#very much put other people’s safety above their comfort or trust in her

[thecorvidcurio-if]

For as long as you can remember, no one you've loved has ever lasted very long.

The moment you come to love someone, no matter the type of love, tragedy befalls you both. In a desperate attempt to escape this cycle you've been moving from place to place, uprooting any time you start getting too close. This new city shouldn't be any different. It wouldn't be any different, if not for your new neighbours.

The more time you spend around these bizarre people, the more obvious it becomes that there's a layer of reality you've previously been unaware of. As you discover more of what was previously hidden from you, though, it begs the question:

Is there something more to your tragic circumstances than an unfortunate run of bad luck? Could it be the result of some power you don't understand? If so, does that mean there's a way out of it?

Does that mean there's someone to blame for your suffering?

Or click here if the image link doesn't work.

PLEASE NOTE: This game is in very early development. Only the first two chapters are posted, the writing will be continuously revised as I write, and there may be bugs or glitches. If you run into any issues, please let me know.

Cursed Ambrosia is an interactive fiction novel that deals with topics of death, loss, and love. It's a supernatural fantasy with a focus on interpersonal connections. There are six relationship routes, two women, two men, and two non-binary options. All romance options will have a platonic route as well. More info on them under the cut.

Note: Though these characters are romanceable, you do not need to romance them to play out their routes. On the platonic route, you still get the same plot content, just minus the romantic bits.

Vicente - An exceedingly polite and seemingly put together man who values kindness and compassion, but struggles to accept those things himself. He's keen to look after others and encourage them to accept help, yet insists on handling his own troubles alone.

Abby - An overwhelmingly enthusiastic and eccentric "person" who values curiosity and freedom, but struggles with moderation. He has more energy than he or anyone else knows what to do with. He's got a talent for mischief and is incapable of going very long without causing trouble, intentionally or not.

Kaida - A bitterly jaded and taciturn fellow who values knowledge and secrecy, but struggles to trust others. He's always many steps ahead of everyone else, and always knows more than he lets on. He's someone very useful to know... Or, he would be, if anyone could get a straight answer from him about anything.

Marina - An unapologetically loud and rambunctious woman who values rebellion and individuality, but struggles to let her guard down. She's brilliant, but easily bored. If you tell her she can't or shouldn't do something, it's just about guaranteed she'll be doing that thing in the near future.

Thea - A theatrically elegant and captivating woman who values loyalty and honesty above all else. On the job she's glamorous and confident, captivating any who hear her hypnotic voice. Off the job, though, she's something much different, and hopes to find someone who can appreciate both sides of her.

Shiloh - A cripplingly shy and skittish entity of uncertain origin who values privacy and comfort, but struggles to leave the safety of what it knows. Shiloh enjoys observing others interacting, and lives vicariously through witnessing the connections other people form with each other. It is quite sure that it will never manage to make such connections itself.

[petraevesplace]

One Completely Good Constant

On a lighter topic than yesterday, some gushing about Leif/Nanna and a beautiful piece from DaigoDoggyma

Leif and Nanna have one of the strongest, deepest bonds of any pair in Thracia. They’ve not only grown up together but did so while living on the run, leaving behind and losing every other relationship they formed and shelter they were accepted in, with a guardian who took care of them physically but was not emotionally available or dealing with his own issues well. They don’t know what it’s like to have a home, be part of a family, to have something stable and permanent and that’s left them both longing for all of it. They have had one completely good constant in their lives though in each other. They’re the one friend the other hasn’t lost and being there through everything allows them to understand, empathize, comfort, and encourage each other better than anyone else ever will. Their mutual support isn’t just a mechanic in Thracia, it’s been the core of their relationship for years and something that only grows deeper once the war starts, Leif confessing to Nanna he wouldn’t have fought half as well if he hadn’t had her keeping him going.

Their introduction in FE4 shows Nanna being the calm voice of reason to Leif’s passionate drive and the value and trust Leif has in her opinion as he immediately chooses to follow her suggestion even though it requires him to abandon the home he just got back and risk losing it once again. Loss isn’t something Leif deals with well and reclaiming Leonster has been one of his biggest dreams and desires for years. But still he doesn’t hesitate to agree to Nanna’s idea because he has just as much faith in her as she does in him. He doesn’t always listen to her though. When Raydrik tries to use Nanna against Leif, Nanna tells Leif to run anyway. She doesn’t care that her life is actively being threatened and Leif running would likely make her situation worse, she cares about Leif staying safe and alive. But Leif feels the opposite, surrendering himself to Raydrik so long as he doesn’t harm Nanna. They both put each other’s life and safety above their own because they’d rather die than lose each other.

As Leif tells Nanna in FE4, Thracia, Cipher, and FEH, he wants her to stay with him, and Nanna promises she will, willing to always be by his side no matter where he may go, even to the very ends of the earth. They want to keep being together, to always be together, because of that deep trust and understanding, the irreplaceable value they have to each other, and all of the other loved ones they’ve lost leaving them feeling alone and longing for a deep, permanent love. Leif expresses this most often through his desire for family, an idealized concept to him and what he believes is the only way he’ll receive a close, open, unconditional love rather than the distant respect and obligatory concern and care his title has always led to. He craves affection and becomes quickly and deeply attached to the kindest people around him; Selfina, Queen Ethnia, Seliph, and of course, Nanna.

Nanna isn’t as open about her desire until towards the end of Thracia. She admits to Eyvel she used to cry to herself out of longing for the dependable love Mareeta received from Eyvel. She does cry when thinking about that kind of deep love as she’s comforting Diarmuid when they meet. She wants to be loved that deeply, unconditionally and openly by someone and that is exactly how Leif loves. He has no issue admitting he’s so happy he could cry when he reunites with Selfina, he wanted to see Eyvel again so badly he dreamt about it every night after saving her, and of course, that he wants to find Lachesis so he can ask her permission to marry Nanna.

One of the biggest issue people seem to have with Leif/Nanna is the sibling comparisons. I don’t think they actually see each other as siblings, they just don’t have a better word for how important the other is to them. They’ve made other friends and what they have with each other is deeper than what they have with them and to children, the only other option for a close relationship is family. This is part of why as mentioned before, Leif sees family as the only way he can be loved so slaps the most age appropriate family member title on whoever he wants that relationship with. He does it with Seliph, calling him like a brother, in their second conversation. But once he’s reminded there’s another way he could have the love he’s longed for now that he’s older, that romantic relationships are an option, he turns to the closest person to him, the person whose support and friendship gave him the strength and encouragement to keep going, who knows and understands him better than anyone else and still stays close with him, the one good constant in his life, and she immediately and happily returns it. Because he’s all of that to her as well. They’re each other’s strength and support, bring out the best and understand the worst, complete and compliment each other. They’re the one completely good constant they’ve always had and always will.

[amused-bouche]

Meme from @itsbuck (lilbishfacemcgee)

🙊what would my muse say their biggest flaw is

⧱ what really is my muse’s biggest flaw //for all of them😂

Answers will be under the cut because I have 14 muses to answer for:

Roman: He would say his biggest flaw is his lack of get up and go, as in, he doesn't go to many places. He sticks to his woods and craft shows / job sites he works on.

His actual flaw is he cares too much almost too immediately. He wants to help people, even if he's just met them. If he's not careful, he can be taken advantage of.

Rafael: He would say that he has pent up energy issues with his being a werebear. It leads him down a dangerous road with how he makes his money in the underground fighting circuit, but thus far, it seems to be the only thing that helps keep him in check. It is also his actual flaw, as it causes his brother more distress than he needs sometimes, depending on the condition he comes home in.

Dante: He would say he can't flirt worth a damn and makes an idiot of himself. Plain and simple.

His biggest flaw is actually his insecurity of himself as a person. It gets in the way of a lot that he would like to do and him making real connections. It even plays into him finding his own place.

Jackson: He would say that he has a tendency to work too hard and sometimes he forgets to come up for air.

His real flaw, is both a blessing and a curse, is his inability to give up on people. He will sacrifice left and right for the people he cares for to the point it puts his mental and physical well being at risk. Sometimes it pays off, sometimes it doesn't. It puts him through the wringer every time and takes a massive toll on him.

Olivia-Grace: She would say she's stubborn. Not much else to it.

Her biggest flaw is at times, she can be a real people pleaser, within reason. She has her limits, of course. Much like her father (Jackson), she will put others in front of herself.

Michael: He would say his biggest flaw is how easily he can become addicted to almost anything. People, foods, potions, etc., etc.

While the stated above is a major flaw, his biggest flaw is his inability to see the bad in anyone. It's what gets him into those above situations to begin with. Sometimes his good faith in others pays off, but nine times out of ten, it does not and he ends up hurt almost beyond repair.

Vesper: She might say she can be too upbeat, sometimes in the wrong situations. She always wants to look for the positives.

Her actual flaw is her determination when she really wants something. She will not give up. Period. She doesn't like being told she can't do something or can't have something and will go out of her way to get what she wants.

Theo: He'd say he's not very musically inclined for being raised in a family of talented musicians.

He's actually a huge push over and people pleaser. He will sometimes put aside what he really thinks or feels for someone else's thoughts and feelings. He rarely thinks about himself.

Wylan: He would say he likes the safety of his comfort zone and it's very rare that he leaves it on his own. It is his actual flaw as well. Most of the time, he doesn't do anything too out of his own norm without Vesper or someone really egging him on,

Amin: He would say his biggest flaw is that he is too easily trusting, based on past experiences.

His actual flaw is that he is too untrusting. He hardly ever lets anyone close and it tends to led him to live a very lonely and secluded life. His heart suffers too greatly for it.

Delcan: He would say that from an outsider's perspective that he lives in a warehouse, sleeping on a mattress on a floor, when he has enough money for a nicer place.

His real flaw is that he pushes everyone away and refuses to let anyone in. He'd rather be cruel than let someone be stupid enough to get close to him.

Jez: They would say that their mutation isn't particularly useful, considering both their forms are pretty unique and easy to recognize.

Their real flaw is their self doubt and their inability (at first) to see that they deserve to be loved.

Odi: He would say his biggest flaw is that his model is obsolete and therefore is not of much use, despite the fact that he tries very much to be of use.

His biggest flaw is that he still wants humans to accept him, even though in most verses, a wide majority of the population never will. He tries too hard to make them like him, even when he shouldn't.

X-009: Considering I have only one majorly developed verse for him that I've explored recently and the nature of what he is, I will stick with his Hellboy verse as Geo with @myersbprd as his main interaction for this answer:

He would say his biggest flaw is that he is unable to get some people, mainly Manning, to like him. He is supposed to be able to please everyone, given his adaptability, yet he cannot break through to the man.

His actual flaw, while sweet in nature, is that he cares too much about what John thinks of him. He wants him to be proud of him and will do most anything to please him.

[tarnishedxknight]

Difficult Person Test

{out of dalmasca} So... I ended up turning this into a kind of personality meta, haha, because I was so inspired by the results and I wanted to explain them a bit. This was a lot of fun, though, and it actually gave me some better defined perspective on how my muses' minds work. Below the cut for length!

Basch (his true inner self, which he shows to everyone, all the time): You are a very easy person to get along with (15.71%).

[ This tells me that Basch is a very calm, genuine, and kind person, which we already knew, heh. What you see is what you get with him. It also shows that he's minorly suspicious of others, which I think could be attributable to him being in leadership positions and not wanting to take things always at face value with regard to war strategy or dealing with internal Dalmascan politics, for kingdom safety reasons. However, Basch does seem to have a bit of an issue with risk-taking, which I interpret as him being a bit reckless with himself. That tracks, since he is one to run head-first into danger to be one of the first to deal with it but also to protect others. As virtuous as this is, it means he is taking a lot of personal risk onto himself. ]

Ashelia: (her true inner self, which she shows to almost everyone, most of the time): You are a somewhat difficult person to get along with (46.43%).

[ Welp... Ashelia clearly has an overly-inflated opinion of herself, haha. I think this probably stems from being royalty and being of the Dynast King bloodline. When you are raised with others constantly telling you that you are special, rare, powerful, important, elevated, etc., you're going to believe it. Aggression and risk-taking are also high, which tracks. Ashe is a bit of a hothead at times and she can be impulsive. She also is not afraid of resorting to violence. She does tend to be a bit suspicious of others, but given how various people betrayed her, that's understandable. However, she is not at all a manipulative or callous person, and she seems to still have a rather submissive personality despite the grandiosity and slight aggression issues. She's a difficult one to get a bead on sometimes, but it can be done.]

Noah (his true inner self, outside of being a Judge Magister; how he is with those he loves, trusts, respects, and/or is closest to): You are an easy person to get along with (32.86%).

[ I had to break Noah's up because he really does lead a double life, internally speaking. The person he truly is and his honest opinion of himself are a far cry from how he behaves around those who are not a part of his inner circle, and how he behaves as a Judge Magister of Archadia.

This was so interesting to me because if we look at who Noah is on the inside and around those he's most comfortable with (Larsa, Drace, maybe Basch under certain circumstances), he is kinder, more submissive, he has a lower opinion of himself, and he is not at all manipulative. He's more genuine, more on their level rather than thinking himself above them. What remains high is suspicion, which I take as him not believing they actually care about him or being afraid they will betray him somehow. Risk-taking is also high, as Noah is impulsive and reckless with himself, much like Basch. And aggression is very high, so regardless of how close you get to him, he still is a hothead with a volatile temper. That tracks, as Noah is definitely someone with volatile emotions who falls back on aggression, anger, and defensiveness to mask more vulnerable emotions.]

Gabranth: (the Judge Magister; how he is with other Judges and politicians and within the court of Archadia; who he has built himself up into, the image he puts forth, and the person he wants everyone to think he is): You are an extremely difficult person to get along with (88.57%).

[ Hooooooo boy, heh. This was so incredibly interesting to compare to his "true self" graph. So this is the person Noah is when the helm is on, his social mask is on, his defenses are up, and he's around people he doesn't trust and/or ones he needs to maintain control/authority over. This isn't really Noah, this is Judge Magister Gabranth.

Look.... at the changes! Aggression, grandiosity, callousness, dominance, and manipulativeness are all essentially maxed out, and suspicion is much higher. Some of those categories were almost at zero for his core self, but here they're maxed. That's... a really extraordinary difference. This means that Noah is significantly changing his core personality on a daily basis in order to maintain his Judge Magister persona. He is more dominant, hardened, callous, authoritative, and manipulative, and frankly that is necessary to maintain order within the Judge Magister rank as he has done. This is a man who, for as far as the other Judges know, is a strong, no-nonsense, imposing figure... and beyond that, he's smart. Calculating and manipulative. Screw with him and he will make you regret it. There's a fear and intimidation factor here that Noah is able to evoke in other by projecting this type of personality. Even his natural amount of background aggression is amplified, which I interpret as him not being afraid to use force to make others around him obey or to enforce orders/the law.

What is most interesting to me... is the risk-taking section. It's much lower than it is for his true, core self. I interpret this as true Noah having little care for himself, having low self-esteem, and therefore not caring if he's reckless... but then Judge Magister Gabranth needs more restraint than that. He cannot be seen as impulsive, erratic, or reckless, because that undermines his own control over others. They will see that as an exploitable weakness. So when he is in Judge Magister mode, he reins himself in considerably in order to maintain good and careful judgement as well as control over various important situations.

This... honestly makes me so sad. Noah is suppressing or changing a good portion of his true self every single day. That has to be exhausting. No wonder this man goes back to his office and falls asleep on his desk, or back to his quarters and just lays in bed and cries. The sheer amount of psychic energy that he's expending on being something he's not, or at least something he isn't naturally, is astounding. It speaks to his intelligence, strategy, reasoning, and adaptability skills, for sure. But it is very sad that Noah felt he needed to be someone else in order to matter, to be successful, and to survive. The even sadder thing is that he may have been right. Someone like Basch likely would not have survived in Archadia with his personality as-is, and Noah I think recognized that a certain type of person could go the distance, and that he had to become that person.

It's also telling that while answering these questions for his core self, I was giving all the lowest rating for questions like "I'm unique and deserve special treatment," "I deserve recognition and success," and "people should treat me like I'm special." But as Judge Magister Gabranth, those questions were all given the highest rating. He feels that being a Judge Magister and having this sort of personality makes him more special and more deserving of good things in life than his core personality. That breaks my heart.

There has also always been this odd dichotomy too within Noah where he is very proud of what he has accomplished and all the work he's put into being a Judge Magister....... and yet he hates what he's become. It's... weird. On the one hand, he has clawed his way to the top and you will damn well respect him for it because he is someone of import and value. On the other hand... he thinks he's a monster and that he's had to degrade himself and sell his soul to get where he is. At his highest moments, his confidence is through the roof and he falls back on the former sentiment, but on his worst days, he defaults to the latter sentiment, and thinks he's absolute garbage. It is both interesting from a psychological standpoint and heartbreaking from a story-telling point of view.

One last thing I'll add is that... I think it makes getting admission to Noah's inner circle even more powerful an accomplishment. Because this man has all the gates barred, heh. He does not let people in easily because he doesn't want them to see the real Noah. So if you've arrived and you're getting the real him, first of all pat yourself on the back for your accomplishment, but also... handle him with care. He's fragile.]

Tagged by: @illbringthechaosmagic Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this! ^_^

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken trust, pt.6/finale

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five 

Summary: Inside the fold, Y/N and the Darkling face off.

Warnings: angst, fluff sprinkled on top, indicating smut

========================

When she was a child, Y/N feared the darkness. Every night she would lay awake with a candle by her side, too scared to close her eyes. She feared the unspoken horrors that occurred under the cloak of darkness, of one day finding herself in peril as well. The fold fueled such fears, especially when the boys in the orphanage would speak of the Volcra. She had heard the descriptions, the vile appearances and inhuman deeds they’re capable of. They haunted her when she closed her eyes, wondering if that’s what killed her parents.

Y/N still fears the dark, just of a different kind.

She fears the darkness that resides in humans, the kind that’s lurking under the surface yet remains invisible to the naked eye. At any point, the darkness could surface and once it does, it would swallow anyone who stands in its way. Perhaps that’s where her trust issues stem from, the corruption of human hearts. People are wicked, using everything, even love, for their selfish desires.

In truth, she should have seen it before.

Aleksander Morozova should have been a clear danger for her heart right from the moment they met in that dark tent where she wondered how anyone could be comfortable in such an environment. A powerful, handsome man with a silver tongue and a weakness for her had seduced her by simply paying attention. He looked at her like no man ever before – like she was the only one for him, a source of eternal sunshine.

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to be deceived.

A woman with trust issues and a fear of darkness fell in love with a man who was darkness incarnated. He embodied all she dreaded and yet she couldn’t see beyond the mask of perfection he always kept in place. A part of her wondered if he ever showed who he truly is in those intimate moments they shared.

Throwing his head back, Aleksander laughed. His chest rose with a sharp intake of breath before it quaked with a new laugh erupting from deep inside.

“It’s not funny!” She pouted, trying to glare at him as if the sound of his laughter didn’t make her feel like she’s in a dream.

“You know I adore that pout”, Aleksander smirks, pinning her against the wall.

Breathless, her lips part just in time for Aleksander’s to take advantage. He gave a low, throaty chuckle once her knees turned to jelly and she collapsed against the strength of his arm behind her back. He bent, put his other arm beneath her knees. His mouth never leaves hers as he carries her to the bed. He abandoned her lips only to press them on her neck and she couldn’t believe how easily he swayed her.

Before long she could bear no more kissing. She ached all over and she pulled his hair to better meet his mouth. She fastened on his lips hungrily, greedily, ready to feel him inside her, around her, to completely numb her senses.

“Aren’t we eager today”, he teased her as he slowed down, determined to drawl out every moment he had with her.

“I can either be angry with you for laughing at me”, she trails off, her eyes flickering to his lips. “Or you can make me forget about the poor Grisha I flashed in your map room.”

Growling, he inhales sharply, “As amusing as it was to see you both scream, I prefer when you scream for me when we are alone.”

Rolling her eyes, she huffs, “I wanted to be spontaneous! How was I supposed to know someone else would be in the room?”

He picked up a lock of her hair from across her neck and held it up, letting the dim light of the fireplace play though the strands. He held it to his nose, then to his lips.

For the first time he could ever remember, he was completely content.

“What do you want us to do?” Ivan asks, finding the change in his general terrifying. He could see the Darkling is enraged, losing control and a Grisha powerful as he is could be lethal in such circumstances.

“You’ll do nothing”, Aleksander snapped as he mounted his horse. “I will go after her.”

He looks to his loyal Grisha with narrow eyes, aware he’ll return undoubtedly changed by whatever transpires inside the fold. Whether he returns with his Sun Summoner in hand or with her body in his arms, the Darkling would be different.

During his time with Y/N, Aleksander relied on her for happiness he long forgot about. He held onto her for as if she was all he had and she still abandoned him. They all do so once they see how far he’s ready to go in order to protect those he loves – his people….and her. He would have done anything for her.

This is his kingdom, but she’s not his queen anymore.

“We shall await for further instructions at the camp.”

Nodding, Aleksander turns away from them with a dark look on his face. For the first time since he created the fold, he will step inside and he didn’t know who would emerge victorious. If he dies, he won’t be around to care, but if she does? He was sure he will never be whole again.

He kissed the corner of her mouth boldly, waiting for a sign of resistance. Her hands pushed weakly against his shoulders but even at his slight touch, her eyes closed in surrender. 

Seeing her so, Aleksander smirked before he kissed her cheek, her ear lobe. Then, as she gasped for breath, his mouth came down on hers. His tongue sweetly touched the tip of hers and she drew back, startled. He smiled at her as if he understood how strange such affection is to her.

“Someone will see us”, she whines.

Shrugging, Aleksander’s smile grows wider, “Let them see.”

“Don’t you have a reputation of a hardass to preserve?” Her lips press into a thin line as her eyebrows rise, tantalizing him.

His eyes are nearly black as he pulls her to him again. He ran his tongue along her lips, touching the inner corners especially. She parted her teeth for him, desperate for a taste of him. He was better than the richest honey; hot and cold, soft and firm. She explored his mouth as he had explored hers, no longer shy or reserved with him.

Parting in desperate need of a proper breath, he looks at her rosy, swollen lips with complete resignation.

“My reputation means nothing to me when you’re with me. You are what I want my reputation to be.”

Panting, Y/N felt like her lungs would explode. She had been running from the edge of the fold, deep into the darkness she once feared. She ran because she wasn’t sure if Aleksander was furious enough to disregard his own safety by following her inside.

Lips quivering, she pulls out the flask Mal packed for her. Taking a sip, she frowns at the watered down taste of alcohol. She made it clear she wanted nothing but water, yet Mal disregarded her wish. Shaking her head, she smiles anyway. If Mal was with her, she’d thank him for the liquid courage. She’d have agreed to a bottle of whiskey now, lost in the dark.

Swept away in her thoughts, she gasps at the growling in the distance. Her heart nearly stops as a dark, looming shadow passes above her. She whips around as the growls come from behind her as well.

She passed sixteen markers, but she hoped to get to the eighteenth. She planned to get as close to the middle as humanly possible, but wasn’t this just it? If she kept going, nothing could guarantee her safety and she was deep enough inside the fold to at least try. 

Every night she laid awake in the past year was spent with her strengthening her light, her control. 

This was it – she could do it. 

She had to do it.

Releasing a shaky breath, Y/N folds her hands before her. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath as she parts her hands at the palms.

“I wouldn’t do that”, a painfully familiar voice sounds and her eyes open wide.

“Or you’ll kill me?” She laughs, unable to stop herself. It’s a laugh made from pure anxiety and hurt, one that made her feel like she’s mad. Her habit of laughing when she feels like she’s got nothing left to lose came rarely; the first time it happened was when she learned her parents have succumbed to the very fold she’s in now. She reckoned this would be the last time.

“I don’t want to but, if you do not submit to me –“, Aleksander starts, coming closer slowly as if she was a doe and he the hunter. Every sudden move could frighten her and he didn’t want to face what happens in that case.

“Kill me if you must but I will not submit to you, or any man who wears his crimes like crown jewels!”

Raising her voice had drawn the Volcra, the growling growing louder.

"Is it so wrong for me to want to save you?" Sniffling, Y/N swallows thickly. She couldn’t cry anymore, there were no tears left to cry. She’s dry, inside out. “Things could have been different, you know? You didn't have to fall so far.”

Lifting his chin, Aleksander took a step further in her direction. Catching the slightest shake of her head, he pauses, arms raised in mock surrender.

“You made me love you”, he speaks through gritted teeth, “To depend on you.” He clenches his jaw, his patience wearing thin. “Now you’re trying to take the last piece of my sanity with you.”

“You don’t have to do this”, she tries meekly, “We can still be magnificent. Be the man I fell in love with, please.”

“And then what? We’re supposed to play house while they’re killing our people?!” Aleksander spat, barely holding himself back. “They wouldn’t stop until they kill you right before me and any children we might have!”

Eyebrows knitted together, Y/N’s mouth opens at the words spoken. There was a moment when Y/N realized she’d misinterpreted her darling Darkling’s actions, his words, his expressions from the moment they met… as if he’d been speaking a language she couldn’t understand… that moment was the moment her heart broke…She could hardly speak in her shock when she learned he had lied to her, but this shockingly defining moment was much different than that first moment.

“Children”, she breathes out as a smile forms on her lips, one he found confusing.

All this time, Aleksander had been using the fold as a way to protect his people and yet, he failed to realize it is exactly what they need to destroy.

“We don’t need the fold”, her smile widens, “You are the fold, my darling Darkling and I am your Sun.” Her lips quiver, her entire body trembles and she still comes closer to him without fear. “With the two of us, we can create and destroy this fold anywhere in the world and today is our chance to demonstrate our power to all those who’d dare to defy us!”

Lips parting, he shakes his head. “What are you saying”, he sneers, still angry at her for defying him.

“I’m saying it doesn’t have to be one way or the other”, she chuckles in disbelief, “We can both destroy the fold and win this war. Every war.”

The growling is near, close enough for the hair to stand on the back of Y/N’s neck.

“Don’t”, he orders as her hands touch, “Don’t you dare!”

Shakily lifting her head, Y/N smiles, "I love you".

Before he has time to comprehend the weight of her words, his world was set aflame by a blinding light exploding all around him.

She screamed out as a bright light emerged from her entire being, enveloping her like a lover’s embrace. It is the kind of brightness that enchants the eyes to open all the wider as it warms the skin.

She never felt the warmth like this, not even when Aleksander’s lips gave her breath or when his arms gave her a reason to believe in him. This warmth is different, like the sun had incorporated itself into her soul and is finally shining through.

She looks to her hands, opening the fists that glow an ethereal light force she never experienced. Her light is like sunlight, it comes as woven strands, free and united, and flowing as it reveals and solidifies, making the world of nightmares around them into something so beautiful. 

Her eyes meet Aleksander’s dazed gaze, her smile wide but his lips are set in a firm line. 

She could feel her soul ripping as she pushed the light further from them, toward the edges. The pressure in her head grew, erasing the smile from her lips. Her legs barely kept her standing as she stumbles. She could feel a wet liquid running from her nose to her lips, the metallic taste making her eyes widen.

“You’ll kill yourself if you keep this up!” Aleksander shouts, trying to make her see sense but she shakes her head.

“I have to do this! For us!”

He could see a vein pulsating across her forehead, the blood gushing from her nose and it slowly became clear to him – he might not have been able to kill her, but seeing her like this convinced him he doesn’t have to. She’ll do it all on her own.

Reaching for her, his hands wrap around her wrists firmly. “I love you too”, he rests his forehead on hers, amplifying her power. He could feel her smile for a split second before she closed her eyes.

Gasping for air, she felt her insides burning and before she could stop herself, Y/N’s bloodcurdling scream echoed in the fold, effectively stopping his heart in fright.

As her scream dies down, Y/N goes limp in Aleksander’s arms.

Her light disappears, another one taking its place as he lowers to his knees, holding her close to him. Looking up, he almost cries as the blue skies above shine a light on his face. 

“You did it”, he croaks, shaking her slightly. “Solntse? Solnechnyy svet?!”

Unmoving, Y/N laid in his embrace as if she had simply fallen asleep, but Aleksander knew she was hanging by a thread.

“Lyubov’?” His voice breaks the self-imposed sternness, his fingers clutching the fabric of her kefta…He didn’t even realize she kept it. 

She must have put it on inside the fold, he realized.

Now, in the light of day, he finally saw the black kefta he ordered to be made for her – black with golden traces of the light she brought in his life. It was fitting she’d be given powers of light for she was the embodiment of lightning, illuminating stormy skies he couldn’t navigate through. Not on his own.

“Wake up”, he whispers. “I need you”, the raspiness of his voice and the cracks are enough testimony for the break inside his chest.

“I can’t survive without you”, he bowed his head down, a choked sob escaping him.

“I love you.” Aleksander whispered into her chest, breaking down when she didn’t say it back. Y/N always chose to say ‘I love you’ instead of goodbye, explaining goodbye was the last thing she ever wanted to tell him and he understood now. He never wanted to tell her goodbye, but maybe that’s necessary too. Maybe life is about learning a better way to say goodbye, learn to let go of the ones you love with nothing but love.

“Aleks”, she tries but the words are stuck in the back of her throat as her need to breathe becomes direr.

“Saints!” He presses his lips as he looks up at her, just as breathless as he was the day when he first saw her. “What can I do? Tell me how can I help you?!”

“All this time I’ve blamed you”, her hand rests upon his cheek, “For pulling me into the dark”, she pauses, “But I was wrong.” Wetting her lips, she manages a small smile, “It was me who brought out your dark side.”

She averts her gaze, hating the vulnerability in her voice as he takes her hand in his, inspecting the ring he gifted her with a crooked smile.

“None of it matters now”, he rests his forehead on hers, “I love you with all I am and I never want to feel like this again.”

“Look at me.” He’s not asking, rather demanding and she can feel the subtle difference just as she can feel his warm hand wrap around hers.

“Gladly”, she chuckles as he helps her sit. None of her hate for him remained. Love…hate, it was always a fine line to walk on and she finally settled on a side – his side.

Saying I love you is the bravest thing he has ever done in his life, for it took every ounce of strength and courage to openly expose his feelings to the love of his life, to put his heart on the line time and time again after all the times she walked away. He knew he didn’t deserve her as she’s always been too good for him, but he swore he’d spend the rest of his life building himself up to be the kind of man she’d be proud of.

“I love you”, he kisses the palm of her hand, giving her enough time to say it back.

“And I love you. I promise you, we will be unstoppable. Together, hand in hand, nothing will dare stand in our way.”

As soul meets soul in a lover’s kiss, the two embrace in the midst of a desert made of ruin they would find a way to rebuild. Their story is far from over, but this time around, they’ll write it together – as equal parts of a whole.

 Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @subjecta13-thefangirl @aquamariene-me​ @savannah-elliott @auggie2000 @daybleedsintonightfa11 

[scxrlettwxtches]

a crown of thorns | hwang hyunjin

genre: royal au, fluff/angst, fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy, slight violence

description: a few years have passed since your tumultuous beginnings with the enemy king, hwang hyunjin, and to everyone’s astonishment, your marriage flourished with an abundance of love. however, this was not yet a happy ever after, and danger still lurks within every corner of your peaceful kingdom.

word count: 14.0k+

a/n: ack the more i read this, the worse it seems to get haha. but guys!! this is my last fic on this blog!! thank you again for all the love you’ve shown me and my writing. <3 wishing everyone all the best!! 

As he sat on his throne, absently chatting away with foreign envoys, Hwang Hyunjin considered himself rather lucky for a multitude of reasons.

All the princes and the lords sitting around the table, enjoying the tea and pastries, had everything one could want in the world. Endless fountains of wealth, resources, luxury. Whatever they desired, they only needed to snap their fingers, and someone would provide. It was the type of life many in his kingdom could only dream about in their wildest fantasies.

But, underneath the splendor, Hyunjin could see it as bright as day. Beneath the material luxury was discontentment, unease, unhappiness. Many of them were married to people that they did not love, were tied to their own wealth as it was the only sense of stability in their lives. And above all, Hyunjin could sense their loneliness, the invisible--yet deadly--disease that latched onto the heart and knawed at it until it was nothing but a shriveled remain. It was a poison that had no identifiable cure, and its affects only magnified as time went on.

Hyunjin could see it all because, once upon a time, he was just like them. Sitting on the throne, he was merely staring at reflections of his past self, a shell of a boy that was forced into a position of power too soon with too few people he could trust. He saw himself in the young lord that was visiting from across the sea, his eyes alight with ambition and a thirst to prove himself. He saw himself in the crown prince of the neighboring kingdom, the mistrust laced in every sip he took of his tea. He was like that once: scared, angry, betrayed, and alone.

But with a strange twist of fate, his life changed for the better. He found people he could trust. He met the love of his life. Unbelievably, he even married her, slowly earning her respect and eventually, her heart. And now, Hwang Hyunjin was no longer the boy with a crown too heavy and a life too lonely. He had people he cared about deeply, he had people he wanted to protect with his whole being. Especially…

“Papa! Papa!”

Hyunjin’s ears perked up as the large, ornate wooden doors of the hall creaked open ever so slightly, and a pitter patter of frantic footsteps bounded into the throne room. Almost immediately, he felt a smile grace his face, all the tension draining out of his posture as he gazed at the little girl, his darling daughter. 

Even the most stone-hearted envoys and esteemed guests could not hide their smiles as the girl ran excitedly towards her father, “Papa!” She giggled again, clumsily climbing up the steps to the throne.

Hyunjin’s heart fluttered with pride as he watched his daughter clamber up the marble steps, and for a split second, the image of her sitting on the throne as the next queen flashed across his mind. One baby step at a time, he reminded himself, and he stood up, easily picking up the girl as she gripped onto his sleeves.

“Naeun,” he brushed the baby hairs out of her face and smiled at her rosy cheeks. Time and time again, he was reminded of how much his daughter had begun to resemble the both of you. She had his doe eyes, but her smile, that was all you. 

The meeting became completely irrelevant to Hyunjin as he lavished all of his attention on her, “What are you doing here?”

Naeun, who was breathing heavily from all the running she had done, huffed and pouted rather sternly, “Mama said that if you stay in the office all night again, mama will dwag you back to the bedwoom.” 

Hyunjin fought the urge to laugh, utterly charmed by Naeun’s petulant words. How hard had she prepared to relay such a fiery message? He climbed up the remaining steps with the girl in his arms and sat back down comfortably on the throne, gently placing her on his lap.

“Papa is very sorry,” he said solemnly, bringing her little hand to his lips so he could kiss the back of it, making her giggle and squirm, “Did your mama send you here to tell me that?”

“Nope! But mama miss you!” Naeun replied brightly, and by this point, none of the guests were able to hide their endeared smiles and chuckles. Hyunjin felt a strange rush of both protectiveness and pride as he observed how easily Naeun had stolen the spotlight in the room with her joy and her innocence. It must be a father instinct that he was beginning to develop.

“Ah, mama misses me?” Hyunjin didn’t even know his heart was capable of containing such unbridled happiness and love as he smiled at his daughter. Naeun nodded firmly, and Hyunjin rubbed her back as he smoothed down her pretty princess dress, making sure she was comfortable before addressing the guests.

“My apologies for the interruption,” he said with perfect politeness, ever the ideal host. As expected, not many people were even the slightest bit annoyed by the disturbance, and they all waved off his apology, continuing the casual conversations about trade, finances, and commerce.

When it was all over, and Hyunjin was finally able to adjourn with all meetings and any other activities he’d scheduled to entertain his foreign guests, he eagerly walked down the hallways to the royal chambers, with Naeun safely nestled in his arms.

“Papa?”

“Yes, my little one?” He replied, letting her rest her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s fin..finan…” Naeun’s face scrunched up with effort as she tried to put the word back together from her memory. 

Hyunjin smiled fondly; he’d noticed her eagerly listening during the meeting, trying to soak in all the new knowledge that was coming her way. Naeun was good at de-escalating tensions, especially when she did her usual thing of barging into meetings without a care in the world, but Hyunjin also liked to let her stay in meetings because the little toddler seemed genuinely interested. She never seemed like she wanted to be anywhere else, only blinking from person to person with her large doe eyes. 

“Finance?” He supplied helpfully, and Naeun nodded into his shoulder, “It’s grown up stuff.”

“I like grown up stuff,” Naeun said with all the seriousness that a three year old could muster.

Hyunjin laughed, “I know you do, petal,” he hummed, thinking of a good way to explain the concept, “You know when you like to play house with your dolls and Uncle Changbin?”

Naeun immediately brightened at that. She loved playing house with Uncle Changbin! He was always a bit grumpy, a bit reluctant, but they always had a great tea party whenever her mama and papa were busy. 

“Mhm!”

“And you always like to trade certain dolls for the dolls that Changbin brings?” Hyunjin asked. Once again, he felt enormous gratitude to his personal commander, Seo Changbin, for going beyond the responsibilities of duty to take care of Naeun. As much as you and Hyunjin tried however you could to make time for her, with royal duties, parties, meetings, and work, it was just impossible to spend large amounts of time with your lovely daughter.

“Mhm! Uncle Changbin brings pwetty dolls!” Naeun nodded.

Hyunjin felt the smile grow on his face as he held her in his arms. He’d been smiling more often ever since Naeun was born, “Exactly. And you always have to give a few of your old ones to get the new, right? Or choose a few toys to give to Uncle Changbin so he can donate them to the capitol orphanages?”

Naeun only nodded curiously. 

“That, in a way, is finance. Of course, it’s a little more boring than trading dolls, though,” Hyunjin tickled her tummy with his finger, distracting her as she wiggled and squealed. Truth be told, Hyunjin didn’t want Naeun to grow up so quickly, even if that was all she wanted to do. Hyunjin didn’t remember anything from his childhood except textbooks, lectures, and a crushing pressure from his father and mother to live up to their expectations. He would never wish that upon his daughter.

After one more turn around the corner, they finally arrived at the Royal Chambers, with Changbin and Felix standing guard on both sides of the entrance. 

“Hi, Uncle Changbin! Hi, Uncle Lixie!” Despite their attempts to teach Naeun royal protocol about how to address the Kingsguard, she had little regard for it, opting to wave from the safety of her father’s arms. 

Changbin’s normally passive, almost grumpy expression melted ever so slightly as he waved back at her.  Despite his constant statements about not wanting to marry and not wanting to start a family, having Naeun made Hyunjin realize that his commander was surprisingly good with children. But if anyone so much as mentioned it, Changbin would deny any evidence of such allegations. Felix, on the other hand, was absolutely besotted with the little girl and made no attempts to hide it.

“Hi, little princess!” He smiled, opening the doors to the most private section of the palace. Hyunjin chuckled, nodding respectfully to both men before walking in. 

“Now, where’s your mama?” Hyunjin murmured. Of course, you were supposed to be in the bedroom, but Hyunjin knew you better than that. 

Naeun giggled, as if she knew you were breaking some sort of rule, and pointed to the study, “There!” 

“Thank you, petal,” Hyunjin booped her nose fondly before walking into the study, creaking the door open slowly as not to startle you. 

Every time his eyes fell to you, he would be swept with a newfound love that was stronger and more powerful than the time before. Even though your back was turned slightly away, and he could only see the slight curve of your lips and the profile of you from the side, Hyunjin knew without a doubt that you were the most beautiful woman in the world. 

You didn’t seem to notice your family walking in, lost in thought as you stared at the window, a piece of parchment in your hand. Hyunjin smiled, knowing how concentrated you can get when it came to state affairs. He put a finger to his lips, indicating to his daughter to be quiet. Naeun covered her mouth with her little hands, nodding as he very gently placed her on the fluffy carpet so she could play with the toys on the ground.

“I believe the doctor’s orders were for you to stay in bed?” Hyunjin murmured softly as he gently draped a woolen shawl over your shoulders, his arms snaking around you from behind. Maybe you did know he was around, since you didn't seem startled by his presence and only smiled as his hands rested on your tummy.

“We have guests in our palace. How can I stay in bed when there’s so much to do?” You replied, leaning into his arms and physically relaxing against him.

“You can just leave the work to me,” Hyunjin pouted a little, feeling guilty that he wasn’t able to handle the entire burden of royal duties. He couldn’t when you were pregnant with Naeun, and he couldn’t now. His hands rubbed your tummy through the silk nightgown as he gently placed his chin on your shoulder, murmuring, “It’s not good for the baby…”

Every time Hyunjin touched your tummy, it made you airy with disbelief and awe at how fortunate you were to have him. When you were a princess, long long ago, you’d never expected yourself to look forward to starting a family. But with Hyunjin, Naeun brought so much joy in your lives that neither of you could help but want another, and your prayers were answered when you became pregnant again around the time Naeun turned three. 

Part of why you were willing was because it awed you every time you saw how much Hyunjin cared. You knew how kings were, always drowning in their work, their duty, which always led them to crave independence, and then occasionally, turning to other women than their lawful wife. You knew that was the norm. Care, much less love, was something that royal women would be lucky to have.

Yet, Hyunjin gave it to you in the spades. Hyunjin cared, Hyunjin loved so much. You saw it every time he looked at you, you saw it every time he would gingerly place the crown upon your head before formal gatherings. You saw it every time he’d keep you close at parties, made sure everyone knew how much he valued you and your opinion. You saw it every time he looked at Naeun, his eyes sparkling with childlike wonder that could only be reflected in your daughter’s own eyes.

And now, with the two of you expecting another child, you saw it in his fretting, his worrying, his constant attempts to keep you safe and healthy, even if he was a little overbearing.

“The doctor never said a little bit of work would harm the baby,” you pointed out, tilting your head back to look into his eyes as you cupped his cheek, “I’m checking myself, I promise.”

“I’m sure you are,” Hyunjin chuckled, and he could no longer stop himself, his lips pressing against  yours in a gentle kiss as he hugged you. You only hummed happily against his lips, enjoying the moment when you were suddenly interrupted.

“Yuckie!” Naeun squeaked out, causing both of you to pull away with a laugh. The princess was sitting on the ground with a soft plushie in her arms as she looked at her parents with disgust.

You burst into giggles, pulling away from Hyunjin to walk over to her, “Yuckie? It’s yuckie that your parents are in love?” You asked teasingly, pinching her cheek. Naeun giggled, trying to run away as Hyunjin suddenly lifted her up from behind, placing her in his lap.

“Kisses are yuckie!” She squealed, making both of you laugh as Hyunjin tickled her tummy.

Hyunjin smiled, chuckling, “Don’t ever let me catch you kissing someone else,” he warned. In all honesty, the idea of his precious daughter falling in love made his blood boil unreasonably. Especially in the royal realm, it was so hard to determine which ones were good and which ones were only hiding behind the mask of benevolence. Just the thought of Naeun falling in love, Naeun getting her heart broken by some good for nothing prince…

“My love,” Hyunjin’s eyes widened as he felt a gentle hand on his arm. You smiled fondly, almost as you already knew exactly what he was thinking, as you always did, “Baby steps, alright? She’s not at that age yet.”

“Baby steps!” Naeun chorused, although oblivious to the conversation at hand. 

Hyunjin felt himself relax, and he engulfed his daughter in a big hug, letting her snuggle into his chest, “Yes, baby steps,” he murmured as he left a kiss in her hair.

.

“What do you mean, they won’t allow it?” You asked angrily, following Hyunjin into his study as he ran a frantic hand through his hair.

Hyunjin sank into his chair, frustration clear in his face as he glanced up at you, “The letter from the council came back. Apparently, there were some strong voices of protest, and eventually they decided to rule against it. They won’t accept Naeun as the heir.”

“That’s ridiculous!” You snapped, feeling steam practically radiating from your ears, “She’s the eldest child, our first born! They've had three years to observe her, and she's performed well in all subjects. She’s practically a genius!" 

You whirled around, tightening the shawl around your frame as you made up your mind to go to the council yourself when Hyunjin rushed over, intercepting you as he gently grabbed your arms, “Y/N, my darling,” you shook your head, not in the mood for his cajoling and gentle attention.

“I’m going to talk to them. They were relenting a couple months ago! I don’t see why--”

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Hyunjin’s voice was suddenly stern, his hands running up and down your back to soothe you, “Calm down, love. Please. Think of the baby.”

You froze, the fight beginning to drain out of you as you tried to take deep breaths. Hyunjin’s hand trailed to your wrist, subtly taking note of your pulse to ensure that you were still alright. 

“I know you’re angry. So am I,” Hyunjin spoke, stepping closer to you and cupping your face in his gentle hands. Your eyes closed at his touch, feeling his warm embrace as his comforting presence, “But we need to deal with this slowly. There are foreign envoys still here, remember? We can’t go barging around the palace like we normally do, not until they leave.”

You huffed, knowing that Hyunjin was right, but still feeling churlishly angry at the news, “So we just wait?”

“We’ll discuss it once more when the council meeting is held again,” Hyunjin suggested, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “I’m sure they’ll cave. Naeun is a perfect contender, the perfect candidate for the next heir. She���s just not what they’re used to.”

“And what are they used to? A son?” You said mockingly, your anger fueled by the ridiculous laws that were still in place. Your kingdom had long since done away with such petty things as male only rules, but it seemed like Hyunjin's kingdom was a little more traditional. 

“Yes, and you know how stubborn they are about it” Hyunjin murmured, palming your stomach, “They’re waiting for this little one.”

“They don’t even know if it’s going to be a boy,” you scoffed, but you could feel yourself relaxing in Hyunjin’s arms. The two of you were so alike and yet so different. Hyunjin was the cooling water to your raging firestorm. And you were the spark that light his ice cold heart alight with love for the first time all those years ago.

Hyunjin hummed at your comment, gently nuzzling his nose against your cheek, “I think it will be. Otherwise, I'd be awfully outnumbered in this family,” he said softly, kissing your cheek as he continued, “But no matter. I still want my precious Naeun to be the crown princess. The council just has stick up their ass.”

“Hyunjin!” You slapped his arm, pulling away to walk towards his study, sitting in the chair as you felt the baby kick once again.

The king only laughed at your glare, immediately rushing to your side as he took your hand, “The baby’s bothering you again, huh?” He asked, his eyes filled with wonder as he stared at your tummy. It was a silent, yet rather apparent question to you, asking whether he had permission to touch. It was almost adorable how childishly excited Hyunjin would get at the thought of his own children.

You gently placed his hand over the fabric of your dress, right over where you’d felt a slight kick just before, “It’s not a bother,” you said gently, “How can it be a bother when it reassures me that our child is safe and healthy?”

Hyunjin’s expression was nothing short of entranced as he felt a push against the palm of his hand, “I love you,” he murmured as he glanced at you, and he leaned forward to press his cheek against your tummy, to which you only smiled fondly and ran a hand through his hair.

“I love them, too,” he spoke to your stomach, as he had no doubt that your unborn child would hear it and know just how much their father cared.

The two of you stayed in that position, basking in the monetary relaxation for a moment longer, your hands gently running through his hair as he rested his head on your lap. It was definitely not a position that either of you would want to be caught in, but Hyunjin found himself rather fond of it, being able to let go of his responsibilities and rely on you for comfort without being anxious. 

You sat for a moment longer before a particular piece of parchment on Hyunjin's desk caught your eye, and you quickly reached for it as your husband continued to rest comfortably on your lap.

“There’s a party tomorrow night?” You asked, scanning the contents over as your free hand gently carded through his hair.

“Mhm, the envoys are leaving the morning after, so it has to be grand,” Hyunjin mumbled lazily in return, his eyes shut from mild exhaustion.

You hummed, putting the parchment down as you said softly, “If it’s the final dinner, shouldn’t I be there? I haven’t seen any of our guests except on the first day. It would be impolite if I missed the last event, too.”

“No,” Hyunjin’s grip tightened imperceptibly as he gently held your waist, lifting his head up to meet your eyes, “They understand your situation. It’s only natural that you haven’t been at all the events,” he said firmly, his hand absently moving towards your stomach.

“It’s still impolite. I should probably go,” you said softly, resting your hand over his, “We don’t want our guests to leave with a bad taste in their mouth.” 

Hyunjin looked uncertain, his eyes pleading with you as he pressed his lips to your knuckles, “If something happens…”

“Nothing will happen, my darling,” you cooed, trying to reassure your love as you sensed his fear. Hyunjin, underneath his cold words and powerful gaze, was just as human as any other man.

“It’s just a party. I won’t even dance, alright?” You continued with a cajoling smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek bone, “I just have to be there, Hyunjin. It’s my duty.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes fluttered shut as he melted against your touch, leaning his cheek into your hand and sighing softly, “I know I can’t change your mind,” he said, “You’re just stubborn like that, and I love it more than you know. But it scares me so much.” 

“It scares you?” You repeated his words, waiting patiently for him to elaborate. 

The king nodded, looking so vulnerable in your arms that you were afraid he’d break, “What if something happens? What if, one day, you overestimate yourself and you lose the baby? Or worse,” Hyunjin kissed your palm, holding your wrist in his hand as he gazed upon you with more pain in his eyes than you’ve ever seen.

“What if I lose you, too?”

Your heart shattered at the fear and the sheer amount of unconditional love that glistened in his eyes whenever they met yours, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you sighed, leaning forward to be closer to him, “It won't come to that.”

But Hyunjin couldn't hear reason at this point, frightening himself as he held your hand, “I can't rule this kingdom without you, without your love. You're the first happiness I've ever had in this lifetime.” 

“Hyunjin, you can and you have,” you argued, reaching to lace your fingers with his, “You were ruling wonderfully before we met.”

“It's not the same, darling, and you know it,” Hyunjin answered, kissing the pulse point of your wrist daintily, “You made me a better person and a better king.”

You couldn't help but smile adoringly, reaching your other hand to run your fingers through his soft hair, “I'm glad. You made my life happier than I ever dreamed it could be.”

Hyunjin sighed, melting into your touch. As always, he felt weightless in your arms, free of burden and responsibility. He didn't have to think of anything but you and him.

But alas, there was still a problem at hand. 

“Do you really want to attend the party?” He asked softly into the fabric of your dress, one of the comfortable ones he'd ordered to be specially made for you when the two of you discovered that you were expecting a second time.

“I do, Hyunjin. I think it's best that I take my place beside you, at least once before they leave. It'll quell any rumors about us and about my supposed ill health,” you explained your reasoning, understanding Hyunjin’s doubts but still feeling strongly about going all the same.

Hyunjin’s eyes opened slowly and he nodded in resignation as he stood up, “Alright. I won't stop you. But, my love, at least let me assign Changbin and Felix to you as your guards for the night.”

“Both of them?” You asked, standing up slowly to maintain your balance. Hyunjin didn't leave your side for a moment, holding your arm in case you fell, “Isn't that a bit much?” 

“It would make me less anxious to know you're well guarded,” Hyunjin pleaded with you, fixing the shawl around your shoulders as the two of you walked out of the study. It was already quite late in the evening, with Naeun having been sent to bed long before. 

Your fingers intertwined naturally, and the two of you headed to your chambers, ready for a long night's rest, “Alright, assign both of them to me,” you relented, “I still think it’s a bit overkill.”

“You’d be walking around the town without a single guard if we went with what you thought was overkill,” Hyunjin chuckled, beginning to shed his uniform.

“Not true,” you protested weakly as you climbed into bed, already in your nightgown.

Hyunjin joined you soon after, engulfing you in his arms and his comforting scent as you let out a sigh of contentment, burrowing in his embrace, “Let’s get some rest, alright?” You said, sleepiness laced in your voice as you hummed softly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my darling,” Hyunjin murmured his response without a moment of hesitation, as if he’d been waiting all his life to tell you, “so much.”

.

Parties were hectic enough already, even more so when you had a hyperactive toddler to manage on top of the plethora of things that could already go wrong, from the banquet food to the entertainment. 

"Weeee!" Naeun squealed, running around the bedroom like a madman and trying to escape changing into her party dress. 

Before she could slip away, you managed to snag an arm around her waist, lifting her into your arms with a grunt, “Where do you think you're going, little princess?”

Naeun pouted, whining as she wiggled in your grasp, “Want to go play! Want to find papa!” She said with a huff. 

“Papa is busy right now,” you said patiently as you gently plopped her on the bed, trying to help her out of her nightgown while Naeun fussed, obviously not wanting to do as she was told.

“But I want to play with papa!” She protested as she eventually lifted her arms, letting you help her change. 

You sighed as you helped her into the beautiful golden dress, the fabric laced with ruffles and sparkling thread that was fit for any little princess.

“Papa is a little busy, alright?” You spoke gently, trying to make your lecture sound less like a scolding and more of an explanation, “There have been guests in Mama and Papa's home for the last few days, and Papa has been busy taking care of them.”

“B-but...what about me?” Naeun’s lower lip quivered dramatically, and you fought the urge to smile at how utterly adorable she was, “Papa take care of me!”

“You don't think Papa takes care of you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, “Papa spends all his free time with you, Naeunie. Papa takes caring for you very, very seriously.”

Naeun pouted still, her lip jutting out petulantly, but she let her head fall. Even for a three year old, the little girl was awfully perceptive, and knew when she'd lost an argument. And in her heart of hearts, she knew that her parents really did move heaven and earth to make her their top priority.

“Papa no stop taking care of me?” She asked softly as you buttoned the pearl clasp around her collar.

“No, my little one,” you answered with a gentle smile as you fixed her hair, “Papa and Mama will always take care of you. When this is all over, how about we stay a week at the summer residence? Just you, papa and me, and we'll have all the time in the world to play with you.”

Naeun gasped, bouncing on the bed, “Weally? Just us?”

“If you want, you can drag your Uncle Changbin to come with us, too,” you said slyly as you booped her nose, but instead of scrunching her face playfully as she always did, Naeun suddenly looked ashamed, head tilted downward as if she’d done something naughty and then felt guilty about it after the fact.

You were immediately concerned, “Little one?” You prodded, gently trying to tilt her chin up so she’d look at you, “Little one, what’s happened? You can tell Mama anything.”

Naeun hiccuped slightly, and your heart ached as you realized that she was on the verge of tears, “Mama, ‘m sorry,” she mumbled softly, eyes glittering with unshed tears and you quickly sat on the bed, pulling her into your lap.

“Why are you sorry, Naeunie?” You asked, trying not to sound frantic, worried, or anything that might frighten her more.

“Papa said Mama is tired, and that I shouldn’t bother Mama,” Naeun explained, large droplets beginning to roll down her rosy cheeks as she wailed, “But I’ve been bad bad! I make Mama worry!”

You tried to stifle your incredulous laughter as your daughter clung onto you, wailing dramatically as if the world was about to end. So that was what got her so worked up all of a sudden.

“Silly little thing,” you teased, cradling her in your arms as best you could with the bump of your stomach getting in the way. Still, you nuzzled your nose against her cheek, wiping her tears, “It’s mama’s job to worry. You’re a perfectly good girl, Naeunie. Mama and Papa are so lucky to have a precious girl like you.”

Naeun’s shoulders slowly began to shake as she rubbed her eyes, “Like me?” She repeated, a tinge of innocent hope and adoration laced in her voice that always raised your protective instincts, the instinct to shield her from any harm that this world could throw at her.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as you spoke softly, “Just like you. Mama and Papa love you to the moon and back.” 

“And I love Mama and Papa, too! So so muchie!” Naeun parroted back happily, smiling with all the life and brightness that both you and Hyunjin lacked in your own childhoods. Maybe that was why the two of you were so determined to be there for Naeun in every way possible, to make sure that she knew she was so very loved. Because neither of you received that type of acceptance when you were children.

“Good girl,” you said, kissing her forehead once more before smoothing down her dress, “Are you ready to go?”

“Mm!” She nodded, clambering off the bed and standing tall, “Will Papa be at party, too?”

“Your papa is already there,” you chuckled to yourself, taking your daughter’s little hand and heading out of the bedroom.

Outside, both Felix and Changbin were waiting for you, dressed impeccably for the formal occasion. In normal circumstances, it would only be one of them waiting for you while the other guarded Hyunjin, but the king had not allowed any exceptions. Both of the strongest in the Kingsguard must be by your side for the day.

“Sorry for the wait,” you said to both of them as Naeun slipped away from you, skipping over to her two uncles, going especially for one in particular.

“Uncle Changbin, Uncle Changbin!” The man grunted as he caught her in his arms, shifting so she was eye level with him, her bright smile contrasting with his typical frown.

Felix walked with you as Changbin and Naeun entered their own little world, with the young toddler prattling his ears off and the commander listening with surprising attentiveness, “She plays favorites,” Felix complained playfully, clutching a hand to his heart as he stayed by your side.

“She definitely does,” you agreed with a fond smile, keeping an eye on your daughter as you walked down the halls, a hand resting on your tummy as you glanced at the man beside you, “Hyunjin is at the party, right? How is he doing?”

“When will the two of you ever not worry about one another?” Felix laughed, shaking his head, “Hyunjin caught me on the way up to your bedroom, asking about you as well.”

You shrugged, the sound and clamor of crowds and partying beginning to be apparent as you neared the ballroom, “That’s just married life, Felix. Trying to put the other person before yourself,” you glanced at him, the gaze in your eyes shifting into something more mischievous as you opened your mouth, “And maybe, you--”

“Nope! Not happening!” Felix interrupted you cheerfully, “You and His Majesty have just been on my ass about it, and it’s not happening!”

“Oh, but Lixie,” you laughed with him, taking his arm as you walked down the marble steps, “it’s really not all that bad!”

Felix’s gaze was soft as he gently patted your hand. He’d been assigned to the Kingsguard right around the time you were crowned Queen, and there was a sort of camaraderie that formed between the two of you from trying to navigate the ups and downs of palace life. He was a good confidante, and you very much valued his happiness.

“I’m happy here,” he said gently, looking into your eyes with his bright and genuine ones, “I’m happy looking after people that I care about. And for now, I don’t ever want to lose that.” 

You sighed, a smile gracing your face as you shook your head, “Alright. But if you ever change your mind…”

“You and His Majesty would be the first to know,” Felix promised.

The doors swung open, and the crowd quickly stood at attention as you entered the ballroom. Your gaze hardened ever so slightly, and your posture shifted, taking the persona of the respected queen that you were to the eyes of your people. Before you were a mother, or a wife, you were a symbol, an anchor of virtue.

Even Naeun was on her best behavior as she walked down with Changbin, holding his little pinky as she climbed down the steps. She seemed to sense her own importance, and did her very best not to mess up, making you break character for a moment as you smiled.

Your eyes caught sight of your husband standing near the throne, and his eyes twinkled with adoration when your gazes met. He put down his glass of champagne, quickly gliding through the room to receive you.

“God, he’s whipped for you, Your Majesty,” Felix muttered under his breath, “Does the honeymoon period never end--ow!” A discrete finger jab to the side was enough to shut him up.

Hyunjin’s smile was small and hidden, reserved just for your eyes as you made it to the bottom step, “Don’t you look beautiful, my Queen,” he murmured, chastely kissing the back of your hand before pecking your lips.

“Jinnie, not here,” you scolded lightly, letting him take your hand as Naeun rushed over, the crowd cooing with delight. Naeun had only been present in a handful of engagements before this particular party, and the people were still fully immersed in baby fever, entranced by the little girl.

“Papa!” She jumped at him, your husband bending down and catching her easily.

“Oh, my little petal!” His smile was bright as he held her securely, spinning her around, “Ready for dinner?”

“Mhm!” Naeun nodded, but not before placing a big kiss on her father’s cheek, “Miss you!”

You couldn’t help but giggle, watching as the princess’s actions completely melted the crowed. She was definitely a natural. You remembered what you were like as a three year-old, scared, terrified, and always trying to hide behind your mother’s skirt even as she forced you to be independent. 

Naeun didn’t need that push, and you were grateful.

Hyunjin carried Naeun in one arm and escorted you with the other. Your eyes scanned the room, automatically taking note of certain esteemed guests and nobles. In the edge of the room, you noticed a few council members sitting together at a table, refusing to stand at attention for your entrance. 

"Is everything ready?" You asked as you carefully sat down beside Hyunjin, "The dinner, the entertainment-" 

“It’s all done,” Hyunjin smiled, pecking your lips before he placed Naeun in her chair beside his golden one, making sure she was sitting still, “Nothing to worry about.”

You smiled, grateful that your husband was so accommodating and willing to handle so much of the work while you needed your rest. Gesturing to one of the maids, you waved your hand, requesting her to start ushering the guests to their seats as food was about to be served.

As you continued to observe the room, making sure everything was running smoothly, you felt a gentle hand take yours, rubbing it soothingly.

“I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you,” Hyunjin murmured into your ear, making you blush slightly. Even after all these years, his forwardness always flustered you, made you feel like a giddy young princess rather than an experienced queen.

“Hyunjin, come on...not here,” you whispered back, letting his hand glide to your stomach, hidden from everyone’s view by the table in front of you. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Hyunjin protested in a playful tone, gently patting your tummy before pulling away and gaining back some of his kingly aura right as the first dishes were served.

The banquet went without much of a hitch, to your relief. The atmosphere was overall genial and it didn’t seem like any of your guests had malicious intentions. Hyunjin, of course, grew a little ruffled when one of the young boys from the envoy’s family, no older than five, asked to dance with Naeun, but you argued that it was rather endearing to see the children stumble around the dance floor.

“Mama, that was really fun!” Naeun reported happily when she was sitting back in her seat, her hair slightly messy from twirling so much, “Want to do it again!”

“Never, not while I’m still alive,” Hyunjin muttered, rubbing his eyes halfheartedly as the memory of his precious little girl dancing with a boy replayed in his head. 

You laughed at the two of them, reaching over to fix Naeun’s hairdo so she didn’t look like an absolute mess for the rest of the evening, “I think your father wouldn’t be very happy with that,” you said teasingly, kissing her forehead just as the crown prince approached your table with a glass of fine wine in his hand.

“Your Majesties,” he spoke respectfully, exuding the perfect mixture of gracefulness and charisma as he bowed, “If I could do the honor of making a toast for the occasion?”

Of course, the request was posed as a question, merely to play to the ego and the pride of the hosts, but a toast was usually not something you could refuse. Doing so meant bad blood, tensions, potential rifts in foreign relations. Besides, the prince didn’t look malicious; you normally had a good sense of intuition about people, and the man standing before you and Hyunjin didn’t raise any red flags.

Hyunjin didn’t seem to sense anything either, and with a courteous smile, he waved his hand in agreement, “The trade deals we’ve made this time around are definitely a reason for celebration,” he said, “Although, I’ll have to drink on behalf of the Queen as well.”

The prince smiled at that, gesturing to one of his servants as they walked towards the table, bringing two gold encrusted wine glasses towards you, “We would never want to leave Her Majesty out. In consideration of her pregnancy, I’ve brought a specialty drink created from a fruit that is grown only in our country. It is harmless to the body, and said to bring good health and longevity to expecting mothers.”

Gasps and noises of approval filled the air as you tilted your head inquisitively, looking at the wine glass being presented to you. You could feel Hyunjin’s hesitancy, and you studied the prince’s expression carefully, but there really didn’t seem to be anything wrong. There wasn’t any point in making a big fuss over nothing.

Delicately, your fingers wrapped around the glass, picking it up and looking at the orange liquid. Hyunjin watched you carefully before doing the same with his glass, which held red wine like everyone else.

The prince smiled, relief obvious in his posture as he held up his own glass. He obviously had worried that you might reject the gift, thinking that it overstepped boundaries. 

“May our kingdoms stay allies through peace and through strife. To friendship!”

The crowd chorused the sentiment as you merely lifted the glass to your mouth, the liquid just about to touch your lips when you froze.

That scent. You remembered it when your physician had warned you against certain plants that were harmful to your body. As the queen of two nations, you were an obvious target, and there was never any telling with when someone with a cruel heart could slip a poison into your food or water. The scent was almost imperceptible, but you knew it was there.

Someone was trying to poison you, and they chose the most opportune time to do so.

Watching as the prince and your husband both downed their glasses, your brain was working a mile a minute, scrambling for a way out. You could you say outright that there was poison in the glass. That would put both your own staff and your guests in a terrible position. You didn’t have any proof that it was actually the prince who was trying to harm you, and making those accusations would all but tear the alliance apart. 

Your heart must’ve been pounding so loudly that the people around you could hear. You kept your face placidly calm as you decided on your course of action, and very subtly tapped your finger against the wine glass three times, a signal that Changbin had taught you in order to alert the Kingsguard of danger.

Both Changbin and Felix saw your movement, and so did Hyunjin out of the corner of his eye. He turned, his expression slowly morphing into shocked anger, something you had not wanted to happen. Thinking quickly, you pretended to choke, coughing up a storm as you managed to put the glass down.

Felix walked forward and was beside you in an instant, catching on to your actions. He handed you a handkerchief, gently patting your back as Changbin was also by your side, a concerned expression crossing his face as he stood guard.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” Felix asked, keeping the attention on you as he discreetly slid the glass to the side, letting Changbin collect it and take it away, ensuring that it was as far away from you as possible.

“Y-yes,” you smiled shakily, pressing the handkerchief against your lips, “Just got startled when the baby kicked.”

The people around you, Hyunjin and Felix, instantly saw through your lie, but knew better than to question your words when everyone’s eyes were on you. You finally glanced at your husband, your anxiety spiking when you saw the way he looked at you, eyes filled with uncontrollable fury. 

Someone had really tried to hurt you, really tried to take his happiness right out from his grasp.

You placed a hand on his, and gave it a warning squeeze, “I’m alright, love, there’s no need to fret,” you cooed, putting on a show of calming him down so that his anger might be taken as anxiety instead.

Hyunjin caught onto your cues, and did his best to control the murderous emotions threatening to bubble out of his chest. Luckily enough, there was another distraction that waddled over, effectively putting the whole situation at rest.

“Mama! Are you alright?” Naeun ran over, her expression overly worried as she stood beside you, her little hands grabbing blindly for you and wanting to be held. As she was watching her Uncle Changbin, she’d panicked when he did, automatically thinking that something bad had happened to her mother.

“Oh, my little one, nothing happened. See?” You comforted her, bringing her hands to your cheeks as you smiled, “Mama is fine.”

“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty!” The prince stammered out as you gently placed Naeun in your lap, giving into her cries to be close to you, “I did not mean to cause you harm. Not in the slightest.”

“And you did not,” you spoke gracefully, a hand lightly squeezing your husband’s leg under the table as you took control of the conversation, sensing that the man was no longer thinking rationally. Hyunjin already suspected the prince as the main culprit, and any words that would leave his mouth from here on would be far from pleasant.

You smiled serenely, looking at the prince, “There was no harm done. Pregnancies are always unpredictable.”

The prince nodded, his expression still anxious as he excused himself and took his seat back with his family. Looking at his frazzled expression, the idea that the person who was looking to poison you was less likely to be him.

“Hyunjin, snap that glare off your face. People are beginning to notice,” you hissed in his ear as people began to dance and mingle now that the dinner part of the banquet was done. Naeun was still in your arms, having fallen asleep. It was far past her normal bed time, after all.

But Hyunjin’s fury was just barely contained, “How can I? Someone tried to hurt you, Y/N. Someone tried to do so right before my very eyes, right under the noses of our Kingsguard,” he spoke under his breath, the cold glint in his eyes growing stronger with every moment. The Hwang Hyunjin of old, the ruthless king that ruled without mercy, was returning, and you needed to stop him quickly.

“Making a ruckus will not serve us any good,” you said softly, continuing to bounce Naeun lightly on your lap.

“He needs to know what happens if he hurts a member of the royal family,” Hyunjin’s glare shifted to the prince, who was dancing with his wife amongst the crowd.

“It isn’t him, Hyunjin,” you took his hand, lacing your fingers together, “I’m sure it isn’t.”

“Then who?” He rounded on you, eyes filled with pain and anger as he tried to hide it from nosy onlookers, leaning closer to press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Who would dare hurt the most precious person in my life?”

“I don’t know, Hyunjin. But now isn’t the time to play detective. Let’s get through this party first, alright?” You asked soothingly just as Naeun shifted in your arms, mumbling.

“Papa…”

Hyunjin faltered at that weak cry, and you smiled in relief as you carefully handed Naeun to her father. The king held her in his lap, using her as his anchor. 

"Oh, my little petal," he sighed, letting the girl slump into his chest as she slept soundly, unaware of the turmoil raging through her father's heart. Hyunjin held her close, kissing her hair, and you were able to observe the party absently, letting yourself calm down after a near experience with death.

Who could've done it? The very idea of lacing the queen's drink with poison, and quite possibly starting a war in the process, would scare almost anyone away. It had to be someone with much more to gain from the incident, someone that feels sure enough of their position that they see the act through knowing it could never be traced back to them. 

You sat in relative silence for the rest of the evening, choosing to observe rather than participate as the guests enjoyed the many festivities you'd planned for the evening. One particular man, sitting at the table to your right, who looked suspiciously upset for such a joyous occasion, caught your eye. 

His motives certainly aligned, and he was of high enough status that he probably didn't even have to personally orchestrate any of it to happen. 

Could it be...? There was only one way to quell your suspicions. 

. 

The party ended uneventfully, and soon, many of the guests began to trickle out of the palace gates, ready to retire for the night. One man opted to take a less crowded route back to his estate, cutting through the palace passageways instead of braving the cold and the people. After all, he was no longer in a sociable mood after the events of the night. 

He should've  known it wasn't going to be so easy. The queen was not only royalty, she was an experienced general as well. It shouldn't have been such a surprise that she sniffed out the little surprise so easily. 

Still, even if it was to be expected, it was still a disappointment. If only she wasn't around, things would be so much simpler. He would've been able to further secure his position, maybe even take control of the military. Oh, the possibilities for him were endless if only- 

"General Lee Minho. It's quite late for you to still be here in my palace." 

If only you weren't around to stop him. 

Maintaining his composure, Minto turned around, giving you a perfect bow, "Your Majesty, I didn't mean to impose. I was merely trying to get home-" 

"Why did you do it?" 

Never one to beat around the bush, were you? 

Minho gave you a saccharine smile, his heart still relatively at ease. You had no proof. There was nothing that could connect the act to him. 

"Your Majesty, I don't believe I understand." 

It must've been the wrong thing to say. Your eyebrow raised inquisitively, and you took a step forward, your eyes cold and unwavering. You must've learned a thing or two from your besotted husband.  

"You're a cunning man, General. Our kingdoms profit off your intellect and your strategy," you said, looking straight into his own unflinching gaze.

"In fact, your cunning is the only reason you are still alive." 

The air seemed to grow thinner in an instant, and the pleasantries all but faded from Minho’s expression. You weren't inquiring, you knew it was him. This encounter was merely icing on the cake for you. The general was suddenly aware that the halls were completely empty save for the two of you, and there was not a sound to be heard. Not the sounds of a servant fetching water, or a maid finishing up her errands. Nothing.

Minho pursed his lips, giving you an unreadable gaze, “I wouldn't advise threatening me in your condition,” he commented, eyes falling deliberately to the swell of your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile in amusement at his thinly veiled threat, “I assure you, General, I am perfectly safe.”

“Oh?” Minho raised an eyebrow at your words, “And I suppose one of your two dogs that you call the Kingsguard is hiding just around the corner, waiting for a movement that would put you in danger before cutting me down.”

The silence screamed under the midnight sky, and the candles illuminating the hallway seemed to flicker as your smile turned icy.

“Do you really think I need Felix to intercede in order for me to kill you?”

Your words were barely audible, and could've easily passed as the murmurings of the wind, but for the first time, Minho didn't feel safe. There was something about the glint in your eyes, the way you stood before him like a storm just waiting to tear through him. 

All this time, Minho had not worried about the consequences of his actions. He did not believe that you were in a position to raise a finger at him, especially since the nobles were on his side. You were the former princess of a foreign kingdom, after all. You were the disadvantaged one here. If anything, he was worried what the king might do if his plot was discovered, knowing and having witnessed Hyunjin’s merciless punishments to those that defied him.

But standing before you, alone and without the bravado of his typical entourage, Minho realized. It was you that he should've feared. 

There was not an ounce of humanity, affection, or care in your eyes. The loving queen that had just been cradling her daughter in her arms earlier that night had all but slipped away. Standing before him was a battle-hardened warrior, a woman who had experienced too much suffering to ever go through it again, no matter what it took.

“What do you want from me?” Minho said, his innocent facade fading completely as he finally caved, the hatred seeping into his eyes as he glared at you.

“I want answers, and you will give them to me. If you don't know, which I doubt will be the case, you will direct me to someone who does.”

Minho’s jaw clenched, feeling the growing panic and fury clawing up his chest as he stood before you, with no more cards to play, “Alright.”

“Alright?” You raised an eyebrow, the simplest action laced with an unspoken threat.

“Alright, Your Majesty,” Minho sneered, wanting nothing more than to pull out his hidden blade and run it cleanly through your throat. He knew better though, especially since he was sure Felix had his eyes trained on him, ready to strike.

“Who else is in on this?”

“A few of the lords were vaguely aware that I was plotting something, but they did not actively participate in the act.”

“Were your actions supported?”

Looking down to the side, he muttered, “There were a few people that did not agree on my methods, but still want you removed.”

“Naeun. Is she in danger?” You asked sharply, for the first time, feeling a spike of fear hit you. If there was someone willing to murder your unborn child, you suspected that Naeun would not be safe either.

To your relief, Minho shook his head, “Not that I know of.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. As long as you and your child were relatively safe, you could continue the interrogation more seriously, “You laced my drink with poison, but it was not a large enough dosage to cause death. Why?”

“Your death would effectively sever any alliance between my kingdom and yours,” Minho gritted his teeth as he spoke, as if you were physically pulling out every single word from his mouth, “As much as I despise your kingdom for starting that useless war, I am not arrogant enough to deny that our alliance has benefited both of us greatly.”

“So you wanted my child,” you snarled lowly, your hand unconsciously reaching to touch your stomach as if protecting it, “You wanted me to miscarry.”

Minho smiled, all daggers and fangs as he replied, “If your baby didn't make it, you won't have a male heir. You would most likely have a harder time conceiving, and we'd be able to supply His Majesty with a suitable mistress.”

You stared at Minho, the pieces falling together in your mind as you thought of every moment when the general had tried to undermine you, make your comments less received by actively criticizing them, or scorn you for your status as a foreigner.

“You wanted me to lose favor with Hyunjin,” you concluded, feeling almost disappointed by the turn of events. No matter what kingdom, the power hungry were always the same, tearing down others for their own benefit. Doesn’t the battle for control ever get tiring for them?

Minho barked out a scathing laugh, “Of course I wanted you to lose favor with him. I wanted him to resent you, to hate you, to see you for what you really are, a viper hidden beneath that pretty, pretty face of yours.”

“Why?” You asked, genuinely confused, “Why must you go so far to stop me--to stop him--from being happy?”

“You think he’s happy?” The general scoffed, and against his better judgement, he took a threatening step towards you. The expression on your face barely twitched, but Minho could suddenly feel a murderous aura coming from behind him, and he knew better than to push his luck.

“Do you really think he’s happy?” Minho laughed, “You destroyed him, Your Majesty. You turned him soft. We were going to build the greatest, most ruthless empire the continent has ever known. And suddenly, after he met you, he decided to stop conquering, to take care of his people, to take care of your people after you lost.”

You weren’t expect such a barrage of anger and honesty, but you took the chance while you had it, “And what? You’re upset because you stopped gaining wealth and power in the spades like you used to?”

Minho’s scowl was pure wickedness, and you stared him down, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, “I’m upset because you turned our king into a soft, weak little boy. The plan was to wring you and your people dry, taking all the resources before leaving you to fend for yourself. And, suddenly, after he met you, he wanted to do nothing but protect you, a cowardly, foolish princess that was nothing but her parent’s puppet--”

“Careful,” your voice was soft, its edges laced with poison as your eyes flashed with a silent warning, “You are alive still because I have use for you, but you run your mouth like that again, and I’ll have your tongue cut out before I slit your throat.”

The general realized the seriousness of your words, and his eyes narrowed, “You have use...of me,” he repeated your words, already disliking where this was going. 

“Of course I do. If I didn’t, your body would have already been dumped into the river by now,” you said pleasantly, the serene smile back on your face as you pulled at your lace gloves.

Minho raised an eyebrow, “Do you think you’d be able to get away with that, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, my dear General,” you couldn’t help but laugh, amused by his doubtfulness at your capabilities, “unlike you, I am not in the position where every move I make is another desperate grab for power. I am the Queen. The power stems from me and my husband. And do you think Hyunjin would care about the potential murderer of his unborn child if I told him the truth?”

Minho’s jaw clenched so hard, it was painful. He underestimated you. Hyunjin was not the ruthless one. You were.

Like a snake constricting its prey, knowing there was no hope of escape, you smiled, “You are in no position to threaten me, Lee Minho, and unless you want me to strip you of all of your titles or for me to tell Hyunjin about what has just transpired, I’d keep that snippy mouth of yours shut.”

How pathetic. You knew exactly what he valued in life, and didn’t hesitate in brandishing against him like a sharpened blade. All of Minho's actions were to protect his reputation with the king and to hold onto the power he'd already earned, and you were dangling that prize over his head, ready to rip it away from him at a moment's notice.

“What does Her Majesty require of me?” Minho asked through gritted teeth and a clenched smile.

“Stop with the schemes. I'm sick and tired of them,” you said tiredly, giving him a wary glare, “Stop trying to usurp my power and overthrow my position as Queen. It doesn't matter how many mistresses you want to throw at Hyunjin. He will always love me as I will always love him, and even if that doesn't come to be, he will always have respect for me.”

Minho felt his blood boil as he nodded, “Yes...Your Majesty.”

You didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile, moving straight to the most important term.

“You will instate Naeun as the Crown Princess.”

“Are you insane?” Minho snarled, his anger spiking as he spat at you, “The people who supported me in ruling against her will think I've gone mad.”

“Maybe you should've thought twice before deciding on your vote then,” you smiled placidly as you took a step closer towards him.

“You will instate Naeun as the Crown Princess, no conditions, no what ifs. She is the heir. Understood?”

As he gazed into your eyes, each order you have laced with power and unspeakable threat, Minho saw himself in the reflection of your sharp stare. To you, he was nothing but a mere doll for you to manipulate to your own will, a being that could just as easily be discarded as it can be replaced. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Minho said again, the hatred in his tone more than apparent.

“I expect the good news to be placed on Hyunjin’s desk tomorrow morning.”

Without another word, another acknowledge or even goodbye, you turned around, walking down the hall and leaving Minho to wallow in his own failure, leaving him to forever berate himself for the missteps he made, the miscalculations that had now put his entire career into the hands of the person he despised most in the kingdom.

“Sounded like things were going well, Your Majesty,” Felix commented nonchalantly as you passed him, the young guard having positioned himself in the adjacent hallway, waiting for any inkling of danger to jump in and protect you. You didn’t fail to notice the way he twirled his knife before slipping it back into its sheathe, obviously having pulled it out when Minho had made a poorly concealed threat regarding your condition.

“Yes, it seems like some good has come out of this ridiculous farce,” you sighed, placing your hand gently over your tummy as you felt the slightest kick against your side. With that conversation, you could only hope that the worst of the nobles’ spite towards you and your blood would soon be over. 

Felix eyed you carefully in the silent walk back to the Royal Chambers, noting both your emotional and physical state, “Are you going to keep this from His Majesty?” He asked, afraid of overstepping his boundaries by prodding too much.

“Eventually, the truth will come out whether I want it to or not,” you said as you entered the private section of the palace, exhaustion laced in your words. Truthfully, if Minho had decided to call your bluff and attacked you earlier, it wouldn’t have been as easy as you’d made him believe it to be. You had your reputation as a powerful general back when you were a princess to thank for how successful your negotiations went.

“Still, I think I’ll keep it a secret...just for tonight,” you confided to Felix tiredly, turning to him with a weary smile, “He’s worried enough already, especially after earlier.”

Felix nodded, and you didn’t need to ask additionally to ensure secrecy. Felix was good about those things. He was a good confidante, and once again, you felt immensely grateful for his presence. 

He gave you a bow, practiced ease and gracefulness exuding from even the simplest of movements as he spoke softly, “Take care of yourself, Your Majesty.”

You couldn’t help but smile, reaching over and gently patting his head, a silent gesture of praise for the young knight who’d done so much for you, “I promise. Now go get some sleep. It’s quite late.”

Felix excused himself politely, and you took a deep breath, heading to the bedroom where your lover was probably waiting anxiously for your return.

.

As you’d expected, Hyunjin was almost beside himself when you walked into the room, his hands freezing from where they were pulling at the roots of his dark hair when he gasped, “Y/N, my love!” He rushed towards you, pulling you into his arms and sweeping you into a tight hug.

“Where have you been? I was worried sick! Changbin said that Felix was with you, so I trusted that nothing was wrong, but you were gone for so long and I thought—”

“Shh, my darling,” you cooed, letting his hands touch you fleetingly everywhere he could, your shoulders, your waist, your tummy, anything to let him know that you were once again safe in his arms.

You smiled, cupping his cheeks as you leaned close, “I’m alright. Everything’s alright. I just needed some air after what happened today, so I took a walk in the gardens. Felix was with me every step of the way.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh of both relief and frustration as he held your hand resting on his cheek, looking into your eyes, “Please don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered, “Not after what happened earlier.”

“Nothing happened, Hyunjin,” you said softly, your thumb lightly brushing his face as you comforted him, “I’m here, aren’t I, safe and sound?”

“Things could’ve turned out so much worse,” he pressed a fleeting kiss to your palm as he held your hand, “I had the liquid inspected. At this very moment, you could’ve been unconscious, fighting for your life, our child...gone,” his voice cracked ever so slightly as he palmed your stomach.

“But it didn’t happen like that,” you reassured him, eyes widening as you saw his own eyes glistening with unshed tears, “Oh, Hyunjin.”

Reaching forward, you wrapped your arms around his waist, burrowing in his chest as Hyunjin easily fell into your embrace, burying his face in your hair as he hugged you tightly. The room filled with the comfortable silence, and your conversation continued without the need for words.

I love you. I want you to be safe. Please don’t do anything dangerous. It was all translated through your touch and the warmth you gained from one another.

Hyunjin’s hugs were warm. They felt like hot chocolate on a cold winter day, like a summer breeze that swept you away. You felt safe just being in his arms, and soon, you let out a quiet yawn, nuzzling into his chest.

“Let me coddle you tonight,” he murmured, sensing you slumping forward in his chest as his fingers lightly massaged your scalp, “I know you don’t like it very much, but just for tonight, can I please take care of you?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his request. As much as Hyunjin liked to be cared for, by you in particular, his favorite hobby was to spoil you in any capacity that he knew how. He loved to lavish you with gifts, shower you with love, and to do every little thing to make you comfortable. You weren’t the person that liked to take advantage of this little trait of his, since you were never one for lavish gift giving nor were you ever given such attention before, but seeing how earnest he was, you decided to compromise, especially after all the worrying Hyunjin had probably gone through just waiting for you to return. 

“Of course,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Let’s get ready for bed.”

Hyunjin was carefully meticulous as he  undid the corset of your party dress, pulled out the pins that held your hair up, and delicately slipped the silk nightgown over your form, all the while trailing kisses wherever he could. You did the same for him, helping him out of his uniform as your lips connected with his.

“I was thinking,” you mumbled absently as Hyunjin kissed you with abandon, his hands nimbly undoing the braids in your hair, “We should go away, just us and Naeun.”

“Oh? Do tell me more,” Hyunjin replied with a soft smile, his lips trailing down to your jaw as you tried your hardest to remember what you were trying to say. What a little brat he was being.

You sucked in a gasp as you rolled your eyes, amused by his antics, “Let’s spend a week at the summer estate. Naeun needs space to run around, and both of us need a breather from our royal duties. You especially.”

Hyunjin groaned at your words, “You’re definitely right about that. But can we afford to leave, with all the chaos going around?” He asked, as he began to usher you to the bed, his arms looping around your legs as he ultimately decided to just carry you.

“H-hyunjin!” You squeaked, surprised by the sudden action as your arms wrapped around his neck. Your husband paid you no mind, carrying you to the bed before placing you down delicately. His eyes met yours and you touched his face, “I’m sure we can make time. We can delegate some of the less important work to some of the council members. If not, we can just work extra hard after to make up for lost time. We all need a break.”

“Your wish is my command, my Queen,” Hyunjin leaned forward, pecking your lips before walking around to crawl under the covers from his side of the bed, “I’ll start planning the details of the trip tomorrow. Deal?”

“Deal,” you smiled, snuggling into the covers and scooting closer to your husband as his hand absently shifted to rest on your tummy.

“It would be good for this little one, too. Just to experience what life outside this stuffy palace is like,” Hyunjin mumbled, his eyes already closing. He was no doubt exhausted from hosting the party and all the preparations before hand.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you giggled. Hyunjin always had a way of bringing the conversation back to the baby, “Yes, it'll be good for them, too,” you agreed softly as your eyes began to close as well. The day had been far too eventful for your liking, and you'd like at least one full night of rest before having to tell Hyunjin about your conversation with Minho.

Suddenly, your ears perked up at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open ever so slightly. Hyunjin reacted instantly, pulling you close as he sat up to see who had come in.

“Papa…? Mama…?”

Naeun’s sleepy voice was soft and almost inaudible, but Hyunjin let out a sigh, relaxing as he could make out the little figure of his daughter standing at the door.

“Naeun, what’s wrong?” He asked gently, beckoning her over to his side of the bed, “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“I-i—” The little girl rubbed her heavy eyes as she waddled over to her father as she began to whimper, “I had a bad dweam, P-papa.”

Hyunjin’s heart and yours simultaneously melted as a silent agreement passed between the two of you. The priority was no longer to get a good night's sleep; it was your daughter’s comfort.

“Oh, petal. Was it scary?” Hyunjin cooed, reaching down and easily picking her up, settling her in the large bed. He placed her right in the middle, and you rolled over to your side so you could gently wipe her tears.

Naeun nodded at his words, her lips curled in a trembling pout, “Scawy. C-couldn’t find Mama—a-and people saying that Papa was gone…” Her lip quivered again and she began to cry just from remembering the awful images that passed through her head.

“Shh, shh. Oh, dear,” Hyunjin quickly grabbed a spare handkerchief on the night stand beside his bed as you sat up, murmuring comforting words as you cupped Naeun's cheeks gently. 

“Naeun, my little princess,” you said softly, looking into her sparkling eyes as large crocodile tears rolled down her cheeks, “Mama and Papa are right here. We'll always be here for you, alright? No matter what happens, your Mama and Papa would never, ever abandon you like that.”

The little girl sniffled as Hyunjin wiped away her tears, smiling fondly, “Your mother said it best, petal. No matter what, we'll be here to support you, protect you, and love you until you've grown sick of our coddling.” 

Hyunjin couldn't help but add in a little teasing, booping her nose as he said, “Even after you grow sick of us, we'll still stick annoyingly close.”

Naeun scrunched her nose as she always did when hyunjin messed with her, and she frowned, “I won't ever get sick of Papa and Mama. Never!”

“Oh, one day, you'll take those words back,” you added playfully as you tickled Naeun's little tummy, making her squeal with delight and effectively drawing the nightmare out of her immediate thoughts. Hyunjin joined in, tag teaming your poor daughter until she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open. 

"Love Papa... Love Mama," Naeun mumbled sleepily as she curled into the warm blankets, beginning to fall asleep. You smiled at her words, pressing a kiss to her hair. 

"Mama and Papa love you more than anything else in the whole world," you reassured her, brushing the stray hairs out of her face, "Get some sleep, little one.  Nothing can hurt you here." 

Naeun mumbled in acknowledgment, and her little hands wrapped around Hyunjin’s pinky, making her father’s heart positively melt, “Papa...sing.”

“Sing?” He repeated, slightly flustered as he shifted to a more comfortable position, making sure that Naeun was still able to hold onto his pinky. 

“Mhm, Papa sing,” Naeun nodded as she curled up into a little ball, bringing Hyunjin's hand to her chest as she began to doze off on her own.

You couldn't help but giggle as you burrowed into the covers as well, wrapping a gentle around your daughter as you smiled up at Hyunjin, “Won't you honor a princess’s request?” You teased.

Hyunjin pouted at you, scrunching his nose much like how Naeun had done only minutes before, “But I'm the king,” he said petulantly, making Naeun giggle at his antics, “I can do whatever I want!”

“Well, your Queen is now requesting a song as well,” you said with an air of playful haughtiness as Naeun and you shared a conspiratorial glance.

“Oh dear,” Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, “then, I believe I don't have a choice if my Queen and my Princess so insist.”

“You don't!” Naeun chirped in, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Hyunjin let out a dramatic sigh before propping himself up against the headboard and pulling Naeun into his chest so she could rest comfortably in his arms. He didn't forget you, of course, and laced his fingers with yours as you decided not to move around as much, resting on your side of the bed as you held his hand.

The sound of soft-spoken singing wafted into your ears like a gentle breeze. Hyunjin, albeit not a professional in any way, always had a nice voice. It was the kind of voice that could lull you into relaxation, the kind of voice that soothed your unsettled heart. Before long, your eyes grew too heavy to keep open, and you drifted off to sleep with your hand wrapped around Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin gazed down at his family as he slowly stopped singing, noticing that the two of you had fallen asleep. Without the prying eyes of the world boring down on him, he could finally drop his guard and his cold exterior to fully admire the two people he loved, the little girl in his arms that he treasured so dearly and you, the love of his life that showed him what it truly meant to have a soulmate, a person to confide in wholeheartedly. 

It was his little personal heaven, just to see the two of you sleeping safe and sound, to lie in bed with both his daughter and his wife just at arm's reach. He savored it as much as he could, squeezing your hand once more before putting down himself, pulling the warm covers higher over Naeun to keep her healthy. And not for the first time, Hyunjin wistfully dreamed of a life where he was not the king, where he could be a simple man, only tasked to provide and love his family. 

Hyunjin knew he would be asking for too much. He knew what the two of you had promised to those that had put their faith in your hands. You'd promised to protect them, to wear the crown and carry the burdens of your kingdom, no matter how bruised, bloodied or battered the journey made you. 

But as he stared down at your peaceful expression, your lips slightly parted and your eyes fluttered shut, he couldn't help but remember the terror he felt just hours before, the all consuming fear that you would disappear from his life. And for the first time, Hyunjin was at a loss, facing a crossroad that—in the naivety of his youth—he never thought he’d encounter.

If he had to choose between you or his country, what would he do? If he had to protect the integrity of his kingdom and sacrifice Naeun, would he be able to do it? Before you came along, Hyunjin cared about nothing but his work, his duty. But now, he had a family that he'd do anything to protect.

At the party, Hyunjin felt anger like he'd never felt before in his life. It was more than fury, it was pure rage. He would've been willing to lock the doors and interrogate every single person present in the banquet hall if you hadn't calmed him down. He didn't want to become a king like that, he didn't want to become a ruler than put his own needs and his family’s needs before everything else. 

But if he lost you, if he lost Naeun, if he lost his unborn child, his whole world would shatter. It was almost terrifying how much the past five years had changed him. 

“Hyunjin,” his eyes flew open as he suddenly felt your thumb brush against the back of your hand. Turning his head, he realized that you had woken up, your eyes gazing at him with a mixture of sympathy and love that Hyunjin wanted to drown in.

“You're thinking too much again,” you murmured sleepily, playing absently with his fingers without jostling Naeun, “At this point, you'll have wrinkles before you're even middle aged.”

The king couldn't help but chuckle at your little quip, pressing a kiss to your hand, “I'm sorry, my love. Did I wake you?”

“No, I woke up on my own,” you reassured him, “But I'm glad I did. What's wrong, darling?”

Hyunjin bit his lip, hesitating for a moment. He shouldn't bother you with his feelings, not when you already had to worry about yourself on top of the baby you were carrying. 

“Hyunjin,” you murmured his name once more, and he felt his body shudder at how sweet, how loving you sounded, “You can tell me anything.” 

It was the only gentle nudge he needed.

“I'm worried about this,” Hyunjin said softly, “Our family. I can't stop worrying. I didn't know about the poison, even though all the food and drinks were inspected. When will it ever be enough?”

You squeezed his hand, “You're putting too much responsibility on yourself. The family’s safety is not your burden to bear alone, it is for us to share.”

Hyunjin nodded, “I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his midnight hair, “I know, Y/N. But I just wish I could do more.”

“You do more than enough for us, darling,” you reassured him, “You do more than any king would do for their families. It's alright, Hyunjin. You're doing so well.”

“I am?” Hyunjin sucked in a breath, placing your hand on his cheek as he closed his eyes, revelling in your words and your presence. 

“You are.”

These were not honey coated words to soothe a monarch and appease his temper. You meant them more than you could ever express. You knew Hyunjin was trying his best. You knew Hyunjin was most likely protecting you from forces that you weren't even aware of, just like the way you'd dealt with Minho just earlier. 

“I found out who did it, by the way,” you mumbled, figuring that this felt like the right time to tell him in hopes that Hyunjin might sleep better knowing that the problem was dealt with.

There was a moment of deathly silence before Hyunjin uttered a single word, "Who?" 

You sighed. Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all, especially since your daughter was soundly sleeping in the space between the both of you, "Promise that you won't do anything rash right now." 

"You're asking me not to do anything rash when I find out who tried to murder my unborn child and harm my wife?" Hyunjin asked in disbelief. 

“I'm asking you not to overreact now while your daughter is sleeping," you hissed back, "I handled it for the time being." 

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh, "Alright, you win. You have my word,” he said, lacing his fingers with yours.

You bit your lip, wondering if it would just be easier to be completely honest or to ease into it gently. After a moment of consideration, you decided on the former. 

“It’s Minho.”

Hyunjin reacted without thinking, feeling the rage run through his veins once again as he began to sit up, “That bastard--”

As he shifted aggressively, Naeun whined in her sleep, beginning to squirm. You wrapped your arm around her body as your other hand grabbed Hyunjin’s sleeve, “You promised!”

Hyunjin’s steeled eyes softened as he looked down at the little girl beside him, and he slumped back on the bed, pressed a kiss to her forehead and rubbing her back, helping soothe her back to a deep sleep, “I should’ve gotten rid of him earlier. I knew he disliked your presence, but I thought--I thought he’d be able to see past the differences.”

“As did I,” you admitted, running your fingers gently through Naeun’s hair as her whimpers stopped and slowly went back to soft breaths, “but it seems like he disappointed both of us.” 

The king sighed tiredly, feeling the rest of his fiery hot anger dissipate as he turned to lie on his side, his eyes trained on Naeun as he made sure she was asleep, “You said you handled it. Let me guess, it was when you ‘went for a walk.’” 

“You know me too well,” Flicking his forehead playfully, you couldn’t help but smile, “Yes, we had a quick conversation as I was walking back to the chambers. I don’t believe he will try it again any time soon.”

“I would ask what you told him, but I almost don’t want to know,” Hyunjin said with a hint of a smile as he closed his eyes, “My wife can be very scary when she wants to be.”

You shrugged, stroking his cheek fondly for a moment longer before pulling your hand away and lying back down, “I’m the same as you, Jinnie. Anything to protect this family we’ve created.”

Hyunjin hummed in agreement, his long arm draping over to wrap around both you and Naeun, “Anything. But for now, let’s sleep. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Whatever for?” You asked curiously, unsure of what Hyunjin was thinking about in that little head of his. 

“For being here. For loving me. For everything you do,” he mumbled, already beginning to fall asleep    as his words began to slur. Your heart felt warm and fluttery as you smiled, patting the back of his hand as you mumbled your sleepy reply.

“I’ll always be here for you, Jinnie. You’re not alone anymore.”

Hyunjin cracked a smile at that, and hugged you and Naeun ever so slightly tighter in his arms. You were right. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had you and Naeun, whom he loved with every fiber of his being. He had Changbin and Felix, who were slowly becoming less like guards and more like their surrogate family. 

And for all those reasons, Hwang Hyunjin fell asleep considering himself quite lucky. 

[thefanficmonster]

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing. 

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him.  One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

[palimpsessed]

Please please please could you talk about this parallel internal monologue—what are your thoughts?

BAZ

I kiss him back, squarely. Firmly. Matter-of-factly. You’re all I want, I think. And you can have everything you need.”

“I’m not sure what he’s telling me with this kiss. I pretend it’s Yes and Yes and Be kind to me.”

SIMON

“Fine, you fucker. Have me. Just have me. Do your worst, you stubborn twat. Be the death of me. You’ll be the death of me.”

Oh ho ho, my dear Anon. Of course I will talk about this part!!! What a meaty passage to sink my teeth into.

To put things as simply as possible, the juxtaposition we see between these two sections is the perfect encapsulation of the different ways Simon and Baz express and receive love.

Let's start by taking a look at Baz's piece, as it does come first. (Read that sentence out of context, I dare ya.)

At this point in the book, Baz and Simon have just had one of the most critical relationship-building conversations thus far. Simon has set boundaries about magic being cast on his body that Baz has agreed to. They've talked about Lamb and America and settled that matter for good. Baz has managed to lasso Simon with own tail and proceeded to do some very interesting things to it. (I'm going to do my best not to get distracted by that, but, Anon, if you know anything about me, you'll know what an absolutely monumental struggle that is.) Simon has asked Baz to be less kind to him and Baz has delivered, as only Baz can, one of the most romantic lines in the entire trilogy: "I can touch you less gently, but I won't love you less kindly."

And that leads me neatly to my first point: Baz wants to be gentle and kind with Simon, because that's what he thinks Simon needs and deserves. Gentleness and kindness are what Baz wants from Simon. That's how he thinks love should be. They've both seen and done horrible things, and he believes their love should offer a solace from all of that.

(That offering of solace is a theme throughout AWTWB. Slightly off topic, we see their bed become more and more such a sanctuary—perhaps the only place where the troubles of the outside world cannot reach them. @theflyingpeach has shared some beautiful thoughts on the bed's symbolism—their own Eden/paradise and a place where they help one another lay aside the burdens that could otherwise separate them. I've remarked before that Baz's childhood bedroom serves as a kind of refuge for them in CO in the midst of some truly steep trauma, so it was really lovely to see this kind of idea brought forward and deepened and expanded on in AWTWB in this way.)

Baz wants to give Simon kindness, safety, gentleness—three things he's been sorely deprived of in his life. When Simon is beside himself because Baz makes him a sandwich the way he likes, Baz responds internally with: "As if I wouldn't make the world spin backwards if I thought he'd like it better that way." Baz would give Simon anything, would do anything to make him happy. Baz wants to be a kind, caring, thoughtful boyfriend to the love of his life—who he knows is struggling with trauma and self-worth. All the while, Baz himself is also struggling big time with trauma and self-worth. (It's almost like they match.) It feels pretty logical that someone in Baz's place would look at Simon's struggle and wish to be soft and gentle—especially basing this logic on how he feels. He asks Simon to be gentle with him their first time together. Maybe that's because it's Baz's first time. Maybe that's because he wants to feel fragile instead of being reminded that he's an indestructible vampire. Maybe that's because gentle is just what he wants. Maybe it's all of the above. In this case, the reason isn't really important, but the fact that it's what Baz needs is. If it's how Baz needs to receive love, then it follows it's how he would give love. (Rainbow tagged a post about AWTWB shortly before the book was released with the Beatles' lyric: "and in end, the love you take is equal to the love you make". I don’t think that was by chance.)

All this is to say that the conversation Simon and Baz have before the parallel passages in question reveals that Simon isn't comfortable receiving love in this same way. He doesn't want gentle and kind and soft because he doesn't know how to process feelings like that. I'm going to do something different and tag the @youhearbiggirls podcast whose July 29 episode talked about this in a really great way (at 26:20)—including discussion of a message from Rainbow's now-deleted Twitter account. I was so happy to hear that old tweet being talked about, because I thought it was really great and was sad it was lost when Rainbow deleted her account. And! Because they mentioned the date of the tweet and people and the search function on discord are awesome, I was able to locate a screenshot someone shared!

The takeaway here is that Simon isn't programmed to accept love and kindness from others. His brain and his body have been conditioned for violence and fight or flight by trauma. He doesn't know how to accept or process good feelings and sensations, because to him, those sensations actually feel bad. They're foreign, and therefore frightening to him. That's why he feels like he has to flee when he's being physical with Baz—or, rather, I think, when Baz is trying to be physical with him. This is what Simon is attempting to express when he tells Baz that he doesn't "like that feeling. That, like, feathery feeling. Like, touch me or don't—but don't, like, whisper on me." Simon takes a huge step forward when he's able to finally verbalize this to Baz—it also goes a long way to allowing them to be physically intimate.

Baz's half of the parallel passage addresses this directly: "I kiss him back, squarely. Firmly. Matter-of-factly." This is Baz consciously making an adjustment in how he treats Simon to better give him the kind of love that Simon needs, the kind of love he asked for. His thoughts here reinforce this. "You're all I want" he tells Simon in his head, and he means it.

He understands much more about Simon now. He's seen more of who Simon is. And he still loves him. Simon—all of Simon—is still the only person Baz wants. "And you can have everything you need", Baz promises Simon. He's going to give Simon the kind of love and affection that Simon has asked for. He's going to be firm. He's going to kiss him squarely on the mouth, not softly. He's going to be direct and he's not going to let himself be scared or timid or shy away. Simon needs boldness and bravery and unequivocation. Baz is up to the task, and this is his way of showing that to Simon.

And then…! "I'm not sure what he's telling me with this kiss. I pretend it's Yes and Yes and Be kind to me."—Be kind to me.—Baz has admitted that he's "more used to guessing what Simon is thinking—what he's feeling, what he wants." He's once more trying to fill in those gaps in his mind, except this time, he actually understands Simon. They've finally gotten to a place where Simon is speaking for himself and Baz doesn't have to guess. The kiss comes immediately after Simon asks Baz to be less kind, and Baz has refused on the basis that it is exactly the opposite of what Simon needs, even if Simon doesn't see it that way. While Baz is kissing Simon—firmly, squarely, not in a new way, but definitely in a way he hasn't for a while—Baz is hoping that Simon will feel differently. That he'll feel good enough and safe enough with Baz to not only accept kindness, but to ask for it. To understand and internalize his need for kindness, and then to be able to accept it from Baz. For Simon, accepting kindness is being vulnerable, and as much as he loves Baz, he's not yet at a place where he feels safe and settled. He convinced himself early on that there was no security in their relationship, and he doesn't yet trust any security in his life—it's not something he's had to count on. So for Simon to ask Baz with his kiss to "be kind" would be monumental—it would be him undoing a lifetime of programming for violence and giving himself fully into their relationship and their future together.

Of course, we know what Simon is really telling Baz with his kiss. Onward to part two!

"You're all I want," Baz says, trying to convince Simon not to be jealous of Lamb. "Fine, you fucker. Have me. Just have me" then serves as Simon's response. In fact, this whole section seems to be in conversation with Baz—but more so the reconciliation scene than their preceding conversation.

Let's take a little trip back to Chapter 16. "If we do this", Baz says then of getting back together—of Simon trying—"I want the full Simon Snow treatment…I want the locked jaw. The squinty eyes. The shoulders." (I mean, same, Baz.) "I want you to slay a dragon before you give up on me, do you understand?...I want you to try everything before you give up on us again." If we start here, then I think we can trace these threads through directly to what Simon is thinking when he kisses Baz.

Baz wants the full Simon Snow treatment? "Fine", Simon says, "Have me. Just have me." Baz wants him to fight and "try everything" before he gives up? "Do your worst" is Simon's answer. "I thought you'd go down fighting if you believed in something…" Baz says. So, Simon responds with: "Be the death of me. You'll be the death of me." The kiss in Chapter 32 then becomes a rebuttal of sorts. It's Simon's closing argument. He's opened himself up to Baz and told him what he needs. He's "Use[d his] words" and now he's using his mouth the way he's most comfortable—kissing Baz. Kissing him fiercely and telling him everything he's feeling with it. More than that, it's his way of showing Baz—not just telling him—that he's going to keep his word. He's going to try now, and this is him trying for Baz. This is him meeting every challenge, every demand that Baz issued, and slaying them like dragons. He's going to fight, he's going to give his all, he's going to risk everything to make his relationship with Baz work this time. Simon asking Baz for what he needs was a major victory in his ongoing battle with insecurity and I think he's feeling buoyed by that, a swell of confidence that comes through in the fierceness of his thoughts.

I'd like to spend a little more time with the last line: "Be the death of me. You'll be the death of me." Let's look at this in terms of what we know of Simon. He needs fierceness, passion, violence to feel comfortable.

Both Simon and Baz are all or nothing in the way they think about each other and the love they feel, but I think we're seeing something else with Simon's "Be the death of me. You'll be the death of me." The first time he tells Baz that he loves him, Baz is shocked. He truly doesn’t believe that Simon is in love with him, and when he questions it, Simon's reasoning is: "I've killed so many things for you." And when Simon is facing off with the goblin, he lets the goblin get close because "The Mage taught me that sometimes the best way to get under someone's guard is to let them close." If violence is what Simon knows and understands, if that's what's comfortable to him, then it makes sense these are the terms in which Simon views everything, including his relationship with Baz. From his earliest moments under the Mage's control, Simon learned to think of himself as expendable. He was the Chosen One, a weapon, a blade to be kept sharp. He internalized the idea that he wouldn't live through the war and the Humdrum—he said "I’ll fight until I can't anymore". He spends most of his childhood with the belief that the greatest thing he will ever do is die—fall in battle saving the world. His highest aspiration in life is to sacrifice himself for the people he loves. I think this is at the heart of what he's thinking during that kiss with Baz: the way he knows best to prove his love to Baz is to offer him his life—"Be the death of me. You'll be the death of me."

I don't think Simon’s moved passed this way of thinking about himself & the price he thinks he has to pay to prove his love. (Further underscoring this, Baz tells him to “slay a dragon” and Simon is—probably—a dragon...) But I think this is so much of who Simon is at his core, beyond the manipulation he suffered at the Mage's hands, that he'll always play the hero because it's inherent to his nature. He does put himself into harm's way & lies to Baz to protect him. The good part in all this is that living a life of peace with Baz will present far fewer chances for Simon to put his life on the line in order to prove himself, and finally, someday, he'll realize that he doesn't have anything to prove. Until then, he'll keep trying for Baz in the best way he knows how.

Thanks so much for this ask!

As ever, if anyone has thoughts to add or other questions to ask, please do send them along. 😘

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Soulmate AU Part 4 (final part):

Uther continues to be very OOC and Merlin is presented to the Kingdom; luckily enough, everyone already loves him. The Future starts to come together...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

The summer passed in much the same way the previous year had; awkwardly polite conversation between Merlin and Uther, Leon panicking at everything, Gwen being exasperated, Morgana and Merlin pissing about, and Arthur watching it all with exponentially growing fondness.

Eventually, it was Yuletide again. Yuletide meant Arthur’s 18th birthday. Arthur’s 18th birthday meant revealing Merlin to the Kingdom; announcing him as The Crown Prince’s Soulmate.

There was an odd mix of feelings surrounding the upcoming event. Both Arthur and Merlin were ecstatic at the idea of not having to hide and sneak around anymore, but Merlin was a foreign peasant boy. The common people would love him, Nobles and Foreign dignitaries? Not so much. Granted, Arthur had a powerfully intimidating presence, when he chose to display it, Morgana could glare anyone into submission, and even Leon was known to be passive aggressively threatening when it concerned Merlin’s safety and respect, but not all could be daunted into compliance. Merlin would surely face discrimination.

That, and the growing spotlight meant that it would become much harder to keep his magic a secret. With Uther’s insistence that Merlin be... part of the family, they’d already had a few close calls.

Thankfully, not much else had changed, or it had changed for the better. Arthur and Merlin still scared everyone else shitless when they popped up to each other, but Morgana’s visions seemed a lot less terrifying now. Leon still had heart palpitations when Merlin and The King were in the same room, but Gwen, Gaius, and Hunith relaxed more; the Physician especially could see the pride glowing in Uther’s eyes, and the awkward fondness he held for Merlin (even if that wouldn't protect him if Uther discovered his magic).

Nevertheless, no ones’ fears or aspirations stopped the passage of time (though Merlin, in his increasing power, had put it on his “List of Things to Try Before I Die”), and Arthur’s crowning ceremony crept closer, day by day.

Hunith, Merlin, Leon, Gwen, and Gaius were gifted front row seats to the event, and as annoyed as Uther was at having the front row taking by commoners, a servant, and a young knight, he didn’t dare argue; he’d learnt that it was pointless now. Morgana was stood behind Uther’s throne at her own seat, giving Arthur a rare smile, not a hint of teasing in her expression, and Arthur returned it easily, comforted by the dream she told him she had the previous night (of adoring crowds and a grinning Merlin) despite his nerves.

The ceremony of course went of without a hitch, a rare smile on Uther’s face, and tears on all the faces of Arthur’s front row.

After an uproarious round of applause and chants of “Long Live The King, Long Live The Prince!”, the room cleared, leaving only Uther, Arthur, Morgana, Merlin, and a few faceless guards.

(Gaius, Hunith, Gwen, and Leon rushed off, wanting to be at the front of the crowds in the courtyard when Arthur and Merlin were presented to the Kingdom.)

Merlin didn’t hesitate in rushing up the steps to Arthur, wrapping his soulmate in a tight hug and whispering his pride into his blushing ear. For once, Morgana didn’t roll her eyes at the display of affection; Arthur may have occasional spurts of arrogance, and the two of them still acted like immature children occasionally, but she loved them both dearly. Uther did roll his eyes, though he could not hide his fondness from Morgana, who raised (yet another) teasing eyebrow at him. He glared at her half-heartedly before clearing his throat, and the boys jumped apart with a start.

He wordlessly nodded towards the door of the Throne Room, and walked out regally, his steps fast and heavy and his cloak billowing behind him. Merlin and Arthur followed quickly, hand in hand, and Morgana walked closely behind them, the guards bringing up the rear. The group finally made it to the large double doors that opened out onto the balcony above the courtyard, though it was two corridors previously that they began to hear the cheering and festivities below.

Arthur could feel Merlin’s hand shaking in his own, and squeezes it comfortingly, giving him a reassuringly soft smile as he murmurs, so Uther can’t hear them:

“Don’t worry, it’ll only be a few minutes, then we’ll come back in. You’ll be introduced to nobles and such during the feast,-”

When Merlin begins to look even more distressed, Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly and continues before his Warlock can interrupt him:

“-yes, I know, we’ll have to mingle, but this evening, it’s just us and the others. We’ll take some food and wine back to yours, and we can have some fun and all fall asleep in front of the fire together. Alright?”

Merlin takes a deep breath and nods, but before he can say anything, Uther stops his conversation with one of the guards and abruptly turns around, his face tersely concerned.

He takes one look at the boys before tutting and stepping towards them. Arthur freezes in shock as Uther begins to run a gloved hand through his hair, neatening it out and flattening it properly under the newly placed crown before stepping back again with a satisfied nod of the head. Arthur’s wide eyes stare straight ahead, and Morgana (having snuck in front of them to watch the whole ordeal) has to stop herself from snorting at his face. If she thought that was funny... well.

Next, Uther’s eyes move to Merlin, where he gives an even more disapproving tut and steps forward once more. He removes one of his gloves quickly, wetting his thumb with his tongue before wiping it just a little too harshly along Merlin’s nose, muttering-

“How the hell are you always so Godamn grubby?”

-to himself. Morgana doesn’t manage to hold in her giggles at that, clamping a hand over her mouth as she dedicates this whole scene to memory forever. Arthur is staring at his father with not even an attempt to hide his bafflement, but at this point, Uther is too busy brushing invisible lint off of Merlin’s shoulders to notice the incredulous stares from the three teenagers (and all the guards).

He finally steps back, huffing out a sigh, and muttering-

“That will have to do, I suppose.”

-before turning back to the doors and gesturing to the guards. Morgana, and Arthur have only a moment to regain their composure before they are ushered out on the balcony; Merlin staying back as he had been informed to do that morning, though he can hear the cheers get impossibly louder as the three royals greet their people.

Arthur glances back, just quickly, giving him one last smile before facing his people and standing in support of his father’s kingly speech:

“My people! Today, on this year’s Winter Solstice, my son has come of age!-”

The crowds had quietened significantly when Uther began, but another cheer went up at his words, and he paused, holding a silencing hand up:

“-I now present him to you, as Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon, heir to the throne of Camelot, my successor!”

His hand moves to gesture at Arthur, and the Prince steps forward as The King steps back, a wide smile on the blonde's face as his people cheer for him. He waves back, eyes searching the crowd for Hunith, Gaius, Gwen, and Leon; they meet gazes just as Uther steps forward once more, holding his hand up again:

“There is other news! It is...-”

He looks to Arthur, settling a hand on his shoulder and giving him a small smile. His voice quietens a little, but it can still be heard by the crowd:

“-it is with great pride, that I announce-”

The moment ended as quickly as it had started as Uther turns back to the crowds below, raising his voice again:

“-that my son has found his soulmate!!-”

Arthur had been expecting loud cheers, but their audience grows quiet and still at the announcement, as if frozen in suspense. As he peers over the stone barrier, he can see almost everyone in the crowd pairing off slightly, pulling their soulmates closer as they wait with baited breath to see their Prince’s partner.

Inside, Merlin takes a deep breath, but relaxes slightly when he sees Arthur unclench his own nervous fist, holding it behind him in preparation, invitation, for Merlin to take it in just a few moments:

“-I present to you, a close family friend of the royals,-”

(Morgana scoffs and rolls her eyes, but thankfully no one is paying her any attention.)

“-a skilled physician in training, and a trusted citizen of this Great Kingdom,-”

He gestures towards the door behind him, and Merlin takes his first shaky step forward, coming into line with Arthur as Uther finishes:

“Merlin, of Ealdor!”

Arthur and Merlin walk to the front of the balcony, hand in hand, as the loudest cheers Merlin has ever heard explode from the crowd. Despite the thunderous noise, Merlin can still pick out the cheers of his mother, uncle, friend, and older brother, and the leisurely applause from Morgana behind him, and he smiles in spite of his nerves. Arthur squeezes his hand once more, and they raise their joined fists to the crowds as they grin, struggling to hold in their laughter at the sheer amount of joy on the faces of everyone (bar Uther, of course, he just looked marginally happy)  present.

Merlin has become even more recognised around the kingdom; normally seen trailing Gaius (who is also well-known, and well-loved) or, as inappropriate as it might be (at least according to Uther’s council), hanging around with Morgana and Gwen during the day. The castle’s servants and the majority of the knights had guessed that Merlin was the soulmate of either Prince Arthur or the Lady Morgana, what with how often he was with them and the way King Uther was apparently ok with that, and gossip spread like wildfire. But the loud cheers just drive home how well-loved Merlin is, and he tears up in response.

Merlin and Arthur finally step away from the edge of the balcony, and Uther continues his address of the people, though it passes by in a bit of a blur for Merlin, and he tunes out fairly quickly. He’s vaguely aware of Arthur running a soft thumb over his knuckles, and Morgana stepping towards him to clutch the edge of his tunic (loud crowds had never been her thing), but the speech and the cheering are drowned out by his racing thoughts.

~

Uther’s speech finally came to an end and the crowd dissipated. The King rushed off immediately, after sending what could almost be described as a respectfully fond nod in Merlin’s direction, but Morgana, Arthur, and Merlin luckily had nothing pressing to attend to before the feast, and had around an hour of time to waste (read: relax).

Despite Leon escorting the three of them to Merlin and Hunith’s home dressed in full armour, sword strapped to his hip, the journey took twice as long as it normally did, with various nobles and citizens alike wanting to stop them in the street and congratulate them. Arthur and Merlin were endlessly polite and extremely grateful for the support of their (now shared) people, but Leon’s forceful insistence that they “have somewhere important to be, My Lords, My Lady” went quietly thanked.

Hunith, Gaius, and Gwen met them at the house, and a round of tight hugs was shared; all staring fondly when Hunith wouldn’t let Merlin go for love nor money, whispering tearful exclamations of pride in his ear.

The hour felt like it passed in mere minutes, but it was enough time at least for Merlin to relax a little. Morgana and Gwen helped Hunith get ready, and Merlin definitely did NOT tear up when she came out of her room dressed like royalty, a string of Morgana’s pearls around her neck. Arthur and Morgana had deliberately stored a spare set of clothes here so they didn’t have to go back to the castle to change, and the Prince just about managed to force Merlin into a new jacket and cloak (”Why?!”  “Because you have to, it’s protocol, you have to be dressed differently.”  “That’s fucking stu-”  “Merlin, I love you, but shut up and get changed.”  “...Prat.” ) .

The seating arrangements weren’t too terrible. As per normal, Uther sat at the head of the table, with Arthur around the corner on the King’s right and Morgana to his left. Merlin sat in between Arthur and his mother; Leon was, unfortunately, on guard duty, though thankfully he was being assigned to Prince Duty (training, hunts, patrols, bodyguard, etc) more and more, meaning he was stood at the wall behind the two boys. 

Thankfully, the only stranger anywhere near Merlin was a respected Camelot noble seated opposite him, and he seemed far more interested in boasting about his son to the King in the hopes of winning him a knighthood than he was in Merlin, and payed barely any attention to him other than the occasional distasteful glare (they did not go unnoticed by Arthur, and simply guaranteed that his prick of a son wasn’t going to end up anywhere near a sword).

So all in all, the feast wasn’t too bad. Merlin’s stomach was turning a little, but Arthur’s hand on his thigh under the table and his mother’s shoulder occasionally brushing against his own calmed him right down, though he still kept well away from any alcohol or too-rich foods, worried about making a fool of himself or turning his stomach even more.

The Gang also had Gwen serving them. Morgana had given up on her pleas to have her join them at the table fairly quickly; she could argue with Uther endlessly on many things, but she knew she was never going to win this one. At Guinevere’s insistence that today wasn’t about her, and Morgana shouldn’t ruin Uther’s tenuous good mood on Arthur’s birthday AND coronation AND soulmate-reveal-day, she gave in. But Merlin appreciated the feeling of friendly eyes, both Leon’s and Gwen’s, on his back for the course of the feast.

Just like during the celebrations of Arthur’s knighting ceremony, the tables were cleared from the room to make way for music and dancing, though this time Arthur and Merlin didn’t have to hide their partnership.

Merlin’s stomach turned more at the mingling he was forced to do, answering awkward questions about the purity of his blood and where he came from and his education and his understanding of social etiquette, almost all of which were phrased in condescending and/or downright spiteful ways. But the way Arthur’s arm, looped through his, tensed, and the scowl the Prince sported when Merlin couldn’t bring himself to, partnered with Leon’s comforting shadow (and even Uther’s, when the question’s strayed into cruelty) made him feel at least justified in his discomfort.

Morgana, at the quiet request of Merlin, spent the entire night by Hunith’s side, shielding her from the malicious glaring of nobles who felt cheated by her accidental winning of a position in the royal family. She was granted at least a little respect due to her being a relation of Gaius, who was highly respected and close to the King, but that was about as far as her favour went, and she was eternally grateful for Morgana’s steadfast presence and silent-but-deadly brand of defence.

The night passed slowly, but not so unpleasantly that Merlin was too desperate for it to end, though that changed rather jarringly when he found himself without Arthur for the first time. The Prince and Merlin had been stood next to each other, though involved in different conversations; thankfully for Merlin, he had been having a rather lovely chat about country-life with the wife of a knight. It was when she was pulled away by her husband to converse with another that Merlin realised that Arthur had also been pulled away by whoever it was he had been talking to.

Merlin tensed when he couldn’t immediately spot his soulmate through the crowd, but took a calming breath when he did spot Leon stood dutifully against the opposite wall, Guinevere next to him. That was fine, it wasn’t Arthur, but it was better than nothing, and he allowed his anxiety to swirl in his lungs for only a moment before he began his soft-stepped journey across the hall. 

He caught Leon’s eye, thankfully, and the knight frowned slightly at the empty space next to him before sending a reassuring smile his way, nodding in encouragement and understanding.

Alas, he only made it halfway when he was stopped by a rather harsh hand on his shoulder.

He turns around, barely swallowing a gasp and a flinch, only to come face to face with the noble he had been sat opposite during the feast. The hand was uncomfortably tight on his shoulder, and Merlin wanted more than anything to push it away, but instead he forced a smile on his face and bowed his head respectfully, hoping beyond hope that Arthur would make a reappearance or Leon would see his discomfort and be able to come up with an excuse to abandon his post:

“Lord Otto, a pleasure to see you again.”

The drunken Lord let out a huff of sarcastic laughter, pressing his thumb even more severely into Merlin’s collarbone:

“Hmm, a pleasure indeed. Tell me boy, how is it that you, a peasant, think yourself worthy of such a magnificent soulmate?”

Merlin’s eyes widen in shock. No one had been so obviously disdainful, but the over-indulgence in alcohol, the Lord’s privileged seat at the table, and Merlin's lack of any sort of protector had evidently given him a boost in confidence. Merlin stuttered for a few moments, not quite sure what to say, before quietly coming out with:

“Well... I... don’t really know, I-”

He’s interrupted by a far softer hand on his other shoulder, but is even more shocked when, instead of Leon or Arthur, he found The King stood by his side, flicking an incredibly scornful gaze between Lord Otto’s hand and face. It does nothing to dissuade the Lord, and Merlin can’t disguise his wince this time when the hand once again tightens it’s grip.

Merlin had hoped he’d been subtle, but the clenching of Uther’s jaw tells him he had not been; before he can worry about what social rule he had broken and how Uther was going to punish him for it, The King finally settled his glare on Otto’s face:

“I must insist that you remove your hand from my boy’s person, and refrain from making such improper inquiries.”

His cold tone almost sends a shiver down Merlin’s spine, but the confusion of having Uther being in defence of him (a Warlock) stops the reaction before it even starts. The Lord glances up at the crown sitting strongly on Uther’s head, seemingly reminding himself of his company, before dropping his hand from Merlin’s shoulder as if he’d been burned.

He bows his head shallowly, making himself look as subservient as his pride could manage, and Uther gives him a barely restrained look of disgust when he looks up again, interrupting any quivering apologies he might have made:

“It’s getting rather late, and you’ve indulged enough for one night, do you not think? I suggest you end your evening here, Lord Otto.”

All three knew that it was not a suggestion, and Otto bows once more before muttering a humiliated, red-faced “Right you are, Your Majesty” and waddling out of the hall, towards the guest chambers.

Merlin let out a breath, his face just a little flushed as Uther spares him a quick, concerned glance before pushing him gently towards an on-going conversation between Arthur and a group of knights on the other side of the band. Merlin lets out a relieved breath when he sees his partner, but quickly frowns in concern when he then sees the tense line of Arthur’s shoulders and the way his eyes were darting around the room. He’s obviously paying only the shallowest of attention to the conversation at hand; but then they meet gazes, and the tension drains out of him as he sends a relieved smile Merlin’s way.

Arthur politely excuses himself from the conversation, using the blinding smile that only made an appearance when he was manipulating courtiers and nobles, before making his way through the crowd towards Merlin, evidently trying to disguise his desperation. Merlin was absent-mindedly aware of Uther keeping pace with him, the supportive hand on his shoulder-blade not leaving even when Merlin sped up slightly.

(If Merlin had been thinking about anything other than just being at Arthur’s side again, he would’ve found the odd mix of disgust and gratitude for Uther’s presence very confusing.)

They finally reach each other and Arthur grabs Merlin’s hand gently, pulling him to his side and landing a soft kiss to his cheek. Uther finally removes his hand from Merlin’s back, and it’s the absence of touch that reminds Merlin of The King’s presence. He turns quickly, hand safely in Arthur’s grip, to give Uther a flushed, timid smile:

“I... uh... thank you, My Lord.”

Uther gives him a tight smile, though you’d have to be blind to miss the slight fondness in his expression as he shakes his head:

“Hmm, I’ve been looking for an excuse to get Otto out of here for at least an hour, the man is intolerable, his incessant rambling about his unremarkable son even more so.”

Merlin nodded awkwardly and tightened his hold on Arthur’s hand, but before either boy can say anything, Uther lets out a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and settling hesitant hands on one of their shoulders each:

“I... am proud of you both, and I wish you all the happiness in the world. One day, this Kingdom shall be yours, and it will be golden under your rule.”

Merlin almost manages to forget the whole... unforgivable genocide thing, and gives The King a weak, though grateful smile, running his thumb over Arthur’s knuckles when he feels the blonde shake slightly. Arthur tears up at Uther’s words, but thankfully manages to keep his voice steady as he quietly replies:

“Thank you, father, we will do everything in our power to live up to your legacy.”

(An utter lie, considering they plan on undoing pretty much everything he’s known for the moment they come into power, but Uther doesn’t need to know that, and the sentiment remains.)

Uther gives Arthur one last gentle smile, before lowering his hands and straightening his posture, going from awkwardly doting father to detached mighty King within a second. He nods at each of them before turning and walking regally away, his cloak billowing behind him and his golden crown shining atop his head.

Arthur tilts his head in question and tugs Merlin’s hand slightly when he sees the small frown on the younger’s face:

“Merls? What did Otto do? He didn't hurt you, did he?!”

Merlin looked up at him in shock before blinking away the surprise and chuckling:

“Ah, no, nothing like that, just asked how a peasant ended up with such a magnificent soulmate.-”

Arthur looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or offended on Merlin’s behalf, so he settled for an odd mix of the two:

“-That didn’t bother me though, it was... Uther called me his boy.”

Arthur dropped his chin slightly in shock:

“He what?”

Merlin shrugged:

“He said “I must insist that you remove your hand from my boy”. It was very... disconcerting, and oddly endearing considering what he’d do if he knew what I was.”

He whispered the last part quietly, and Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise before chuckling quietly:

“Wow, never thought I’d see the day. My father being protective of a commoner and telling me how proud he is all in one evening, perhaps the world is ending.”

Merlin snorts, rolling his eyes and softly responding:

“Hmm. He may be a bit of a prat, but he does love you, and he has his moments.”

Arthur narrows his eyes at Merlin good-naturedly, a smirk dangerously close to breaking out on his face:

“You know Merlin, you may be right, but you’re still the only person I allow to say it aloud without sanction.”

Merlin just smirks and raises an eyebrow; Arthur laughs, and the world feels right.

~

It was late by the time Arthur and Merlin finally decided to call it quits. Morgana, Gaius, and Hunith had left around an hour ago, Gwen following them the moment her shift ended. Technically, someone had come to take over from Leon about halfway through the night, but he stuck around, patrolling the shadows of the room with one eye on Merlin always.

(The boys had insisted that he should go home and relax, but were quietly grateful when he stayed.)

They had been wanting to leave for hours, and normally they could easily get away with such an absence, but this particular celebration was in their honour, it wouldn't do to leave too early, so they finally made their way out of the hall when the crowds had halved and it was approaching midnight.

Uther gave them one last pat on the back when they said goodbye, and the tension practically melted off them when they stepped foot outside, despite the freezing temperatures of winter in the dead of night.

Leon stepped out just a moment after them, and the three of them make quick work of the journey to the house, not wanting to dally in the frigid air and just a little desperate to find themselves in the comforting presence on the family they had built.

They arrive just in time to find Hunith pouring out mugs of hot chocolate (a luxury that Merlin and Hunith never had in Ealdor), and Gwen adding another log to the fire. The next round of hugs was quicker than the last; everyone was tired and eager to settle down, to push the insensitive questions to the back of their minds and revel in the positive feeling of things moving forward.

Arthur had removed his cloak immediately upon entry, folding it precisely and leaving it on the table in the hall, his golden circlet following shortly after, cushioned by the soft fabric, but Merlin excused himself to their bedroom, changing into comfier clothes and washing his face. He had been looking forward to leaving all night, but now that he was home, he found all he wanted to do was collapse in bed and sleep, Arthur securely in his arms.

A knock at the door broke him out of his slow moving thoughts, and he frowned slightly, Arthur wouldn’t knock:

“Come in.”

It was Leon that opened the door, having rid himself of his sword and most of his armour (a pain in the arse, considering he’ll have to wake up early to put it all on again, but oh well), and he stepped into the room, quietly shutting the door again behind him. Merlin sent him a tired smile, but Leon saw through it and raised an eyebrow:

“You alright, Birdy? Anyone in particular you’d like me to embarrass during training or council meetings?”

Merlin laughed and shook his head:

“No, that definitely won’t endear me to people. Honestly, it was a lot better than I was expecting, and having Arthur scowling at people and Uther defending me was rather entertaining in the end.”

Leon snorted, muttering a quietly amused “yeah, I bet” before stepping forward and enveloping Merlin in a tight hug, one hand on his back, one in his hair, holding him close. Merlin melted into the embrace, clutching the back of Leon’s tunic tightly as the older man swayed on his feet slightly, murmuring:

“I’m proud of you, little brother. You handled everything just fine, the kingdom loves you; you’re doing great.”

Merlin lets out a deep breath and steps back, though was grateful to feel Leon’s hands still on his shoulders as he replies:

“Thank you. Honestly, I’m just exhausted, I don’t know how I’m going to deal with this for the rest of my life, and I... I don’t want to disappoint Arthur.”

Leon rolled his eyes good-naturedly and ruffled Merlin’s hair:

“You could never. He loves you more than anything in this world, Birdy, you’re made for each other, after all. He would abandon all of this in a heartbeat if he thought it would make you happy.”

Merlin frowns slightly, clenching his jaw:

“Yeah, I know, that’s what worries me. We’re meant to... bring about a golden age or whatever, and we can’t do that if we leave, but I’m not sure I’m going to be any good at the... politics, or the court manipulation or anything that comes with... with running a Kingdom. I know it’s a long way off but...-”

Leon nods in understanding and squeezes Merlin’s shoulder softly:

“You’ve got plenty of time to learn. And hey, if you want to stay away from the politics? Fine, Arthur and Morgana have plenty of expertise in that area. You’re a physician, Merls, not a courtier, and the kingdom already loves you, not because you’re a good politician or anything like that, but because you’re a good person, and you’re worth loving. Just keep being yourself and you’ll be absolutely fine. And besides, you’ll always have us lot to fall back on when you’re unsure; you’ll never be alone, little brother, I’ll make sure of it.”

Merlin nods and sniffles slightly at Leon’s words, giving him another tight hug. They step back into the hall, and Leon gives Merlin’s hand a gentle squeeze:

“Ready? I can tell them you headed to bed, if you just want some sleep?”

Merlin smiles and shakes his head, pulling Leon to the living room, where everyone is undoubtedly crowded around the fire surrounded by blankets and pillows.

~

From that day forth, Merlin’s life becomes a lot more... official.

He was officially given sword-fighting lessons by a few of the older knights, though thanks to the lessons Leon, Arthur, and Morgana had given him already, he held his own pretty well, and they were more than impressed with the skill level of someone they had assumed was a complete beginner.

He was officially invited to the occasional council meeting (at least the boring, everyday ones). He was always a silent spectator, his participation discouraged, though his presence expected; Arthur always made a point to ask his opinions afterwards though.

His new duties and lessons, on top of his pre-existing duties as the Physician’s Apprentice, AND having to keep his magic hidden and his reputation intact, was all somewhat overwhelming for Merlin, but the steadfast support of Arthur and Morgana when it concerns politics, and Gaius talking Uther down when The King wants Merlin to be more involved in court life, definitely help him in everyday life. Gwen’s hugs and Leon’s hair ruffling are certainly God-sends as well.

The oddest thing was the way people addressed Merlin now. He wasn’t even of age yet, but people were calling him Lord, and servants bowed at him in the corridor. There wasn’t much he could do about the nobles without making some incredible social faux pas, but he always flushed at the servants and insisted they stop bowing and just call him Merlin, at least when no one else is around. 

Thankfully, both visitors to the Kingdom and local nobles tone down the snootiness, especially when Uther publicly shows Merlin respect and rumours (correct rumours) spread of Arthur and Morgana’s protectiveness.

Merlin’s birthday was celebrated minimally, though there was, once again, a mix of feelings upon the realisation that he was now only one year away from being of age, and things would surely get even more intense when that happened. But they all tried to push it from their minds, at least for the time being.

As winter broke and the sun came up on what was undoubtedly a Spring day, Merlin felt the most refreshed he had in a long time, though his mood dropped instantly when he, Arthur, and Morgana were summoned to Uther’s private study... only to be given another mini, awkward “I’m proud of you” speech, and given a week off.

Of course, Arthur was still somewhat expected to keep up with his training at least a little, but really, there was nothing forcing him to.

They exited the study flushed with pride and excitement at the prospect of doing whatever the hell they wanted for a week, and met Gwen in the hall. She was worrying her lip between her teeth when they saw her, but she instantly relaxed and raised a questioning eyebrow when she saw the grins on their faces, and Morgana explained what had happened.

It was that evening, whilst relaxing in Arthur’s chambers, that Merlin heard the dreaded echo of “Emrys...” in his head.

He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, out of both frustration and the pain of another’s voice unexpectedly materializing on the inside of one’s skull.

It was just Arthur and Merlin in the room, and the Prince immediately moved from his own chair to kneel in front of his soulmate, running his hands up and down Merlin’s arms as he shakily asks:

“Merls? What’s wrong?”

Merlin just looks up at him blearily, one hand taking Arthur’s and the other rubbing his temple:

“Fucking... scaly arsehole.”

Arthur tenses and frowns as he answers:

“I thought he had given up months ago? Why is he calling you now?”

Merlin shrugs, slumping back in his seat:

“Who knows, he didn’t say, he just-”

“It’s important, bring your little... friends, if it makes you feel any better.”

“-never mind. He just said it’s important, and I can bring my “little friends” if I want.-”

He snorted in dry amusement before continuing:

“-as if I would’ve listened if he told me to go alone anyway. I really thought that me thinking “Fuck Off” as loud as I could helped him get the hint. Apparently not.”

Arthur rolled his eyes before looking to Merlin in concern:

“Well... do you want to go? Or do you want to just hope he goes away again?”

Merlin sighs, but before he can answer, the voice echoes once again:

“I will not go away this time, young Warlock. This is important, and I have very little else to entertain myself with, other than being an annoyance to you. Come.”

He huffs in frustration, standing abruptly and taking Arthur’s hand, dragging him to where their swords are kept as he grumbles:

“He’s not going away this time. Let’s fetch Leon and head down.”

Arthur dutifully follows, strapping his sword to his hip and locking the chamber doors behind them, not speaking until they were approaching Leon’s door:

“No Morgana or Gwen?”

Merlin halts, clenching his hands tightly as he thinks for a moment:

“Hmm. No, I don’t want to freak them out. We can tell them what happens later, but I don’t want Morgana to have to face him again.”

Arthur nods, and knocks quietly on Leon’s door. He opens quickly, and Arthur and Merlin are thankful that they didn’t wake him, though quickly notice his panic when he sees their grave faces and swords.

The explanation is quick, and within a few minutes the trio are making a stealthy journey down to the Dragon’s Lair. There are no dramatic appearances this time, the great lizard is already perched regally on the edge of the platform, waiting for them.

He tilts his head when he sees their tense forms at the gate:

“I’m grateful that you did not bring the Witch.”

Arthur and Leon look to Merlin in confusion as he bristles, tightening his grip on the sword at his hip as he speaks:

“Yeah, well, I didn’t fancy you trying to kill my best friend again. What do you want?”

The dragon does what the trio guesses is the closest to an eye roll and dramatic sigh that his great form can manage, before lowering his head and speaking in English:

“If you won’t listen to me, I suggest you use your new found, though temporary freedom to meet with the Druids. They have all relevant information on the prophecies, you can learn of your destinies from them. The closest camp is a day’s ride from the Eastern border of Camelot.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, but Arthur beats him to it:

“And how would you know that? How did you know we had time off?”

The dragon tilts his head and huffs out a dry laugh, the hot air making the trio sweat under their thick cloaks (it may have been Spring, but it was still cold) :

“I know a great many things, young King.”

Merlin and Arthur can practically feel the way Leon tenses, even from a  few paces away. The man, ever the knight, was obviously incredibly uncomfortable with the idea that this dragon knew the goings on of the world, could listen in on conversations, all while being chained in the basement. Before either knight can say anything, Merlin tilts his head, a challenging look on his face as he regards the dragon:

“You... you keep saying destiny, but destiny is pre-written, the whole point is that it’s going to happen no matter what anyone involved does, no matter the interference. So why are you so desperate to have us know it, and work towards it? Us knowing or not knowing won’t alter things either way, unless it’s all a pile of shit and you’re manipulating us.”

Arthur smirks at Merlin’s quick mind and Leon looks impressed, the two of them turning their own challenging gazes on the rather thoughtful looking reptile. He mutters something along the lines of “you weren’t so bloody clever last time,” before lowering himself even closer to the ground, closer to Merlin:

“If I were manipulating you, then I wouldn’t send you to a third party known for being pacifist and unbiased, would I? Destiny isn’t completely certain, it is simply one of many likelihoods, the most... benefitting likelihood, is the destiny of you and your soulmate.”

Merlin scowls:

“Benefitting for who? Something tells me that one day you’re going to ask us for something, and we’ll be powerless to say no, thanks to all this... help you’re giving us, and it’ll be a mistake. So, benefitting who?”

The dragon shifts his jaw in such a way that resembles a smirk, speaking once again in the rasping language that Leon and Arthur don’t understand:

“Do you not want magic, yourself, your people, to be free, Emrys?”

He raises himself to his full height, stalking towards the ledge and stretching his leathery wings out. The trio manage to hold their ground in his dauntingly large presence, but their hands do tighten around their weapons:

“Go to the Druids, tell them Kilgharrah sent you.”

With that, he tips himself over the edge, falling for a second before snapping his wings out once again and shooting upwards towards the shadow-bathed ceiling, thick chain clanging loudly with the sudden movement.

Merlin huffs and turns to ascend the steps without another word, grumbling to himself about “stupid fucking dragons” and “my one week off and I have to deal with this shit” . Leon and Arthur look to each other with a shrug and a mix of genuine concern and mild amusement on their faces, before hurriedly following Merlin back through the castle.

~

Thankfully, it took almost no effort for Arthur and Morgana to get Uther to allow them to leave the Kingdom on their little vacation. It being under the guise of “visiting Ealdor” meant that it was perfectly within the realm of reasonable requests to have Leon tag along as “protection” as well. Guinevere was coming because they of course would need a servant whilst they were out and about (though Uther was definitely beginning to suspect that something more was at play between Morgana and the serving girl).

Unfortunately, Hunith was unable to get the week off work at such short notice (mother of the Prince’s soulmate or not), and there was no way they’d be able to justify asking The King for Gaius to tag along, so they didn’t even try. But they set out the next afternoon, having filled Gwen and Morgana in on Kilgharrah’s rather vague and annoying directions.

Neither of them were particularly happy that they had gone to see the Dragon without them or that they were just... doing what he said, but destiny or no, consulting the Druids on Morgana’s visions and Merlin’s magic was still a good idea, and they’d never get a better chance.

Just like Kilgharrah said, they found the Druid camp two days into their journey from the city, almost a day’s ride beyond Camelot’s border. They had to be careful, wear disguises, but they were travelling through virtually untouched wood so they didn’t run into anyone, not even a pesky group of bandits made an appearance.

When the first tents came into sight through the trees, the group stopped to take a breath and prepare themselves, giving each other one last round of dubious looks before beginning to walk again.

They barely make it to their third step when Merlin pauses and takes a stuttering breath, clenching his fingers around Arthur’s sleeve in a white-knuckled grip. The others crowd around him worriedly, but relax (only slightly) when he looks more confused than anything else. Before they can ask what’s wrong, he peers between them towards the tents:

“Uh... how are you- are you Druid? Is this one of you?”

Arthur’s eyes widen as he realises:

“Someone’s in your head again?”

Merlin nods distractedly but doesn’t move his gaze, speaking louder:

“Hello??”

Finally, a middle-aged man steps out from the camp; he wears floor length, dark green robes, and his silver hair almost falls to his shoulders. He gives the group a kind smile before finally focusing in on Arthur and Merlin, bowing his head slightly:

“My Lords. Our seers saw you coming some days ago, and we felt your presence the moment you entered our wood, Emrys.”

Merlin clenches his jaw slightly:

“Please don’t call me that, my name is Merlin... and... Kilgharrah sent us?”

He says it as if it’s a question and the Druid gives Merlin an assessing gaze, before nodding slightly. Before he can verbally respond, Leon steps subtly in front of the others. Morgana rolls her eyes at his protectiveness and Arthur huffs, but before they can challenge him, he asks:

“What do you mean, you felt his presence?”

He tilts his head again and smiles slightly, as though amused:

“Em- Merlin is rather powerful; we can sense him from miles away, his magic is incredibly... distinctive.”

Merlin frowns, holding Arthur’s hand protectively in his own as he side-steps Leon:

“What does that even mean? I’m not that powerful.”

The man shakes his head slightly and gestures behind him:

“Come. I imagine you have many questions about many things. The camp awaits your presence, My Lord.”

Merlin frowns at the title, but the Druid turns his back and begins walking back into the centre of the camp before he can challenge it. He gives a small shrug and a quiet “well, here we go” to the others before following his trail, Arthur’s hand still clutched tightly in his.

They all receive peculiar looks as they walk through the camp. Life seems to stop as everyone pauses what they’re doing to stare at the intruding teenagers (and Leon), but they keep their heads down, all letting out a relieved sigh when the man leads them to a tent, gesturing for them to sit around a table, and closing the fabric gently behind him.

He turns around with relaxed shoulders and an easy smile, not acknowledging that none of them are sat down and are instead gathered in a huddle by the table:

“My name is Iseldir. Druids don’t have strict hierarchies, but I’m considered the chieftain here, welcome.”

He looks at Merlin as he speaks, and the young Warlock nods slightly. He opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it again with furrowed brows; Iseldir raises an eyebrow and Merlin hums thoughtfully before trying again:

“I was going to introduce everyone, but something tells me that you already know who we are.”

Iseldir smiles again and nods, the expression on his face looking something similar to pride:

“Yes, I know who you all are. I see that you are learning to trust your instincts, My Lord.”

Merlin grimaces:

“It’s just Merlin, please. It’s bad enough that everyone at the castle calls me Lord now, I’m not even of age yet.”

The Chieftain’s smile widens in amusement as he nods, and Morgana is the next to speak up, her hand clutched tightly in Gwen’s as her voice shakes only slightly:

“We were sent here to learn about our... destinies?”

Iseldir nods, politely ignoring the way Merlin reaches behind him to grab Morgana’s wrist comfortingly, and how Leon and Arthur rest their hands near their swords:

“I have everything we need laid out here; it isn’t too complicated and we should get through all of it by this evening.”

The teenagers finally move to the seats, but make no effort to hide the way they shuffle the furniture to be sat closer together. Morgana and Merlin are sat in the middle, Arthur and Gwen flanking them protectively; Leon remains standing, a hand on each of his magical kid’s shoulders and a blank, though slightly challenging look on his face. Iseldir raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment, moving to sit on the opposite side of the table and shuffling a few papers around before looking up with a smile:

“Let us begin.”

~

The general mood of the room could be judged accurately by how tense Leon was at any one moment. Though he remained standing, he was relaxed and curious when Iseldir told them about the extent of Merlin’s powers (which Merlin looked incredibly dubious at), and he smiled proudly when they were told of Merlin and Arthur’s intertwined destinies (the nature of their soul-bond means he already knew they had some sort of great future, and this only proved it). 

It was when Iseldir hesitated slightly as he gave Morgana a pitying look that Leon tensed up, and tightened his grip on her shoulder.

“You must all remember that destinies are... tricky. They are incredibly difficult to avoid, but it isn’t impossible; the future is not set in stone.-”

Morgana takes a deep breath and straightens her back, taking Merlin’s hand in her own and settling her face into a determined grimace:

“Just come out with it. Just tell me.”

Iseldir gives her a comforting smile as he nods, turning a sheet of incredibly ancient looking paper over and pushing it across the table towards them. On the scroll is a old, rough charcoal drawing of a woman with long, dark hair, her clothes somehow elegant and tatty at the same time. Her face is covered by a hood, but her arms are outstretched and violent looking flames extend from her hands, burning and destroying all the foliage drawn around the edge of the paper.

Morgana reaches a shaking hand out to touch the drawing but withdraws her hand before she makes contact, ignoring the tears gathering in her eyes as she looks up at Iseldir again:

“That’s me, isn’t it? Burning things?”

Iseldir nods slowly before speaking, his voice low and gentle, understanding:

“It is said that if you come into your full power, you will unite with The Once and Future King’s Bane. Your heart will freeze over, you will become consumed by hatred and fear and bitterness, and you will work tirelessly to bring about the downfall of Camelot, the downfall of Albion.-”

Arthur interrupts:

“Albion?”

Iseldir moves his gaze to the Prince, giving him a tight smile as he explains:

“The Kingdoms to be united under one name, Albion, with yourself as King.-”

He looks back to Morgana, his smiles turning just a little encouraging:

“-Like I said, the future is not set in stone. Arthur’s Bane came into existence several years ago, we’re keeping close watch on him; he has yet to show any... troubling, signs, nor have you.”

Merlin scowls slightly in though, before slowly saying:

“Arthur’s Bane is... a person?”

Iseldir raises an eyebrow and nods, letting out a breath of subtle relief when Merlin seems more genuinely worried than murderous.

Gwen is the next to speak up, her voice strong and her face determined:

“None of that is happening,-”

She reaches forward and aggressively turns the scroll over, squeezing Morgana’s hand as she continues:

“-not ever.”

Leon’s gasp has everyone’s eyes drawn to the overturned sheet, only to see a colourful image appear on the paper. The first figure to materialize is clearly Morgana, though in this drawing she is grinning, hood down, eyes golden and flowers in her hair. Next, Merlin and Gwen appear either side of her, Merlin’s eyes also glowing as he summons matching flowers in Gwen’s hair, Gwen who is pressing a kiss to Morgana’s cheek. Leon and Arthur appear next, in full armour with bright grins, a golden crown on Arthur’s head.

Iseldir chuckles, looking up at Merlin who is giving himself a satisfied nod as the golden glow fades from his eyes:

“Trusting your instincts indeed; you didn’t even need an incantation, very impressive.”

Merlin shrugs before turning to Morgana with a grin. She returns it with a shaky one of her own, once again feeling not-quite-so-scared thanks to the ever-comforting presence of her family.

~

They slept that night in a large tent that had been prepared for them, and were woken up early the next morning. They were given a proper tour of the camp and introduced to a few people. 

Leon had questions about how the camp was run, in terms of enforcing rules and staying safe, so he was quickly introduced to a few of the elders. Whilst he had been reluctant to leave the others at first, Arthur’s teasing laughter and Morgana’s rolled eyes convinced him to spend the day away from them, learning about as much of Druid politics as he could.

Merlin and Morgana were quickly introduced to the strongest magic users, and whilst Merlin was taken aside to be given some lessons on healing using magic, Morgana was taught meditation techniques and breathing exercises by the camp’s most respected Seer.

Gwen sticks mostly with Merlin; whilst she had no magic to heal with, the herbal knowledge that was being shared was fascinating and she was eager to memorise as much of it as possible. She of course wandered over to check on Morgana occasionally, at first out of concern, but then out of pride, out of a desperation to never forget how relaxed and happy and at-home her soulmate looks.

Arthur spends the morning with Merlin, but quickly grows bored. Perhaps he should take more interest in healing considering how often he and the knights get injured, but he’s already got Merlin, Gaius, and now Gwen, so why waste the effort? Instead, he finds Morgana and the Seer. The sense of relief he feels to see his sister looking so at ease with such an easy smile gracing her face is almost overwhelming, but he doesn’t disturb them, sitting a little way away and silently watching them.

The Prince didn’t even realise he had fallen asleep until the tell-tale pop and the sudden shadow of someone stood above him jolts him from his nap. He opens his eyes blearily to see Merlin crouching next to him, an amused smile on his face and his hand out-stretched:

“Come on sleepy head, the others are waiting for us, it’s time to eat.”

Arthur takes a deep breath, allowing Merlin to pull him up before he stretches and rubs the sleep from his eyes. The sun was only an hour or so away from touching the horizon and he could see no one else in the little patch of woods Morgana had previously been sat in:

“Morgana?”

Merlin smiles softly, taking Arthur’s hand and leading him back towards the tents:

“Happy. She joined me a couple hours ago and we were practicing some simple spells, turns out she has more magic than just visions-”

At Arthur’s slightly affronted expression, Merlin chuckles and rolls his eyes:

“-You were exhausted, Arthur, don’t deny it. You got this holiday because of how hard you’ve been working, we didn’t want to wake you. We’ll show you a few tricks tomorrow alright?”

Arthur pouts and huffs slightly, fighting the smile trying to appear on his face as he nodded his agreement. Merlin just laughed at him again as they entered the meal tent, finding spaces with the other three.

~

The next morning was just as relaxed, though this time the five of them stayed together. 

Leon, Arthur, and Gwen sat against a fallen log as they watched Merlin and Morgana show their magic off. A small audience of Druids had gathered as well, on account of Lord Emrys’ presence, and whilst Morgana tired quickly, not used to having such free access to the magic that had been inside her for years, Merlin could go for hours. He used few actual incantations, manipulating water and flowers and floating lights with just a little concentration and some imprecise waving of his hands. 

Noon, unfortunately, came rather quickly, at which point Leon sighed and stood up, giving Merlin a sad smile before looking to Arthur:

“If we want to be home with a day to spare, we should start the journey soon.”

Arthur nodded in agreement and the rest of the group joins Leon in standing. The Druids disperse fairly quickly, but Iseldir stays with them, giving Merlin a pat on the back and a wide smile:

“It was a pleasure to have you here My Lor- Merlin.”

Merlin snorts in amusements but nods his appreciation, and the five of them wander over to their tent to gather their belongings whilst Iseldir collects the horses. 

It’s only half a candle mark before they’re riding back out into the forest in the direction of Camelot. The teachers and elders, including Iseldir, wave them off with proud smiles, and whilst Merlin and Morgana are sad to leave this sanctuary behind, they were grateful for the freedom and safety and lessons they’d had, even if it was less than two days. Their utter faith that things would change when Arthur took the crown, that one day Camelot would feel just as safe, gave them something beautiful to look forward to as well.

Their journey home was just as uneventful as the journey out. When they finally pulled up into the courtyard with a day and a half of their free week left, Leon took everyone’s horses to the stable and informed a servant to tell the King of their arrival, whilst the others headed straight to Merlin and Hunith’s house. They had to wait for Hunith and Gaius to finish their actual jobs, but soon enough the whole group was crowded around the kitchen table. 

Arthur and Gwen (who, though no one else would admit it, has the best memory of all of them) re-tell the prophecies and destinies.

Both Hunith and Gaius were furious once again at Morgana’s so-called destiny, but smiled proudly at her determined disposition, and the obviously magical drawing (the flowers seemed to move and the golden eyes definitely glowed off of the page) that Merlin pulled from his pocket. The others hadn’t even realised he’d kept it, but are grateful.

Next, Merlin and Morgana talk about their lessons. Gaius was intrigued by the healing knowledge Merlin and Gwen had gained, and after double checking that the door was locked and the curtains were drawn, they even showed off a few spells to their captive audience.

(There were times that Merlin showing off even the slightest bit of magic would give Hunith a heart attack and nightmares for days; she finds it doesn’t bother her so much anymore. She knows that Arthur, Morgana, Leon, and Gwen would never let anything happen to him, and the new stories of his apparent great power certainly helped ease her mind as well.)

Finally, Leon spoke about what he had learned from the elders; all bout how they keep camps running, their democracy, and how knowledge is preserved and passed on. It was a little boring, if any of them are being honest, but the bright grin on the knight’s face kept them from interrupting him.

Eventually, it came time for everyone to head to their respective beds and sleep. There was no denying that they’d had an amazing few days, but it was also a few days of constant activity and sleeping rough... they were all exhausted. 

As Arthur and Merlin curled up under the covers, grateful for the slightly chilled night making cuddling easier, they let out simultaneous breaths of relief.

Arthur ran a hand through Merlin’s hair softly as he quietly spoke, aware of Hunith asleep in the next room:

“You think we’ll be alright?”

Merlin sighs and Arthur tries not to let the anxiety in his stomach swirl too violently at the lengthening silence. Finally, Merlin turns over to face his soulmate, shuffling even impossibly closer and giving Arthur a small smile. Arthur doesn’t comment on the nerves in the younger man’s eyes:

“There’s all this pressure on us to fulfil our destinies, to save the world, it’s a little... overwhelming. My whole childhood I tried to forget the fact that being Prince Arthur Pendragon’s magical soulmate would mean... everything, in one way or another, some day. And now that day is fast approaching, I can feel it, and I still have no clue what I’m doing. And that’s not even considering Morgana.-”

Arthur’s hold around Merlin tenses at the mention of his sister, and Merlin presses a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw before continuing:

“-I would give up all of it, everything, to save her. To see her happy. But... do I really have the right to make that decision? My people are counting on me, but you and Morgana and Leon and Gwen, you come first, and you always will.-”

Merlin rolls onto his back again, staring at the ceiling with furrowed brows as Arthur watches him mournfully:

“-I’ve spent so long being terrified of the fact that I know you would give up your crown if I just asked you to, and now I’m close to making the same decision myself; giving up everything for one person, to the detriment of the world.-”

He turns his head to face Arthur again, tears in his eyes:

“-I don’t know what to do, Arthur.”

The Prince clenches his jaw, having to push down the swell of anger at... everyone really. Kilgharrah, the Druids, the Gods, whosever idea this whole destiny shit was. Arthur often thought of himself as a fully matured adult whose place in the world was clear, but at times like these, he’s reminded of how young he is, and how Merlin is even younger.

He pulls the Warlock into a tight embrace, tucking his dark hair under his chin and running a soft hand over his back:

“I will stand by you, always, and we’ll figure it out, we always do. The future is fluid, Merls, we just have to keep an open mind and push through. We’ve all been through a little bit of hell, but that day? That you can feel approaching? That’s the day we change the world. I’ll force my father from the throne if that’s what it takes,-”

Arthur feels Merlin tense to argue, but rushes on before he can say anything:

“-not just for you, but because it will be the right thing to do, one day. This Kingdom, and then the world, will be golden, and the five of us, and Gaius and your mum, will be together every single step of the way. Ok? You don’t have to do anything, Merlin, not alone, not ever.”

Merlin relaxes again, and Arthur can feel his sigh of relief across his collarbones. The room goes silent for a while, and Arthur only just hears Merlin’s quiet words before he slips into a sleep filled with peaceful dreams full of meadows and flower crowns and golden eyes:

“Yeah... I think we’ll be alright.”

~

THE END!!

After thinking about it for a few days, and re-reading the series, I’ve decided that I actually like the ending here!

I hope y’all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, thanks anon for sending the idea to me all those months ago! :)

[kanene-yaaay]

Full of Life

Random Notes: This fanfic contains Cheer Up Tickles, Mouth Tickles, Rapberries, Tickly Kisses, Gang Up Tickles, Nice Nicknames, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and the power of friendship. This fic is about 3.000 words. This fic is Lee!Patton with Ler!Logan and Ler!Roman with also implied Lee!Logan. Virgil is mentioned. I did not prrofreaded this yet :’v.

Kanene’s Notes: Heya!! Holy gosh, I started this fic with a very clear direction in mind and then proceeded to ignore it xDD. Gosh, I literally forgot how natural writing can feel. I hope you have as fun reading this as I did writing it. <3

[~*~]

Patton was not sure how Logan knew about the Blanket Rule, but he did. Maybe they talked about this one day.

 About how, when Patton opened Logan's door and immediately went to hide under the grey comforter of his friend's room, that meant he didn't want any kind of contact. No touches. No words. No acknowledgment.

 And Logan respected that. He was just so good like that.

 Actually, in Patton's opinion, Logan was amazingly good at a handful of things, but especially in dealing with sad days.

 They didn't expect sad days to go as smoothly as they did in each others' company, but now that they lived through tough and hard moments, it really couldn't go any other way.

 Logan, for his part, didn't know how to comfort and preferred the silence instead of the possibility of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the person further, obligating him to deal with things he hardly understood, such as feelings. And, in Patton's turn, he would rather cry and let himself feel all the bad emotions far away from any judgmental eyes or unsolicited advices.

 Now, Patton wasn't really sure what he had to offer on Logan's Bad Days, but the other confirmed that he helped with such certainty and unavoidable security that it left no other options than trusting on his words.

 Patton trusted him. A lot.

 The cat lover mused this sentence on his brain, trying to focus better on his senses than the overwhelming thoughts that fought desperately for his attention. It was also good that Logan's house wasn't the quietest, too. Above the heat that started to bring his mind to the present and to the now, Patton could hear the sound of Roman in the kitchen, talking fiercely on the phone, hitting by accident - between curses and 'Who the hell put this here?' - cabinets, pans and bouncy containers.

 He chuckled. It was a low sound, barely there.

 But still.

There was also the quiet sound of Logan moving the books and cups from his table, turning on his computer and typing.

 Also, there were cars passing outside. Cars filled with people and sometimes even pets. There were purring cats and lazy dogs and families out there. Stars and fireflies and kids laughing because their parents finally gave in and bought them ice cream before dinner. There was the wind ruffling someone else's hair, a parrot learning new words and an old couple enjoying a cup of coffee on a low night who could, as well, be found outside.

 There was so much life outside.

 His hand touched his chest and Patton felt his heartbeats and the way his torso would go up and down at every breath. The way the comforter squished under his fingers in a feeling of soft and secure and...

 There was life inside too.

 There was a vivid life in the way Logan put one of their favorite movies, letting the opening to fly unashamed across the room in a silent invitation.

 There was life in the way Patton knew that, the moment he opened the door, the smell of baked goodies would fill his senses and his heart.

 And in the way the stars kept their light and the planets their rotation and meteors continued to fly around that gigantic amount of things we call the Universe, as if nothing else really mattered.

 And...

 And maybe that was true.

 Maybe, while the stars were in the sky, the cats continued to purr, a child kept bothering their parents for a snack and best friends kept caring about you during your bad days...

  Maybe then nothing else mattered.

 Patton pushed the blanket away from him, taking a deep breath. 

 It was much less stuffy outside.

 "Logan." The other turned in his direction immediately, fondly scoffing when he found the other making grabby hands in his direction. A couple of seconds later his hoodie was flying across the room and falling from Patton's awaiting arms, since his skill of catching things was still a work in progress.

 After a few seconds and a couple more, Patton found himself melting on his friend's half hug, watching the movie - which had to be played again from the beginning, since when Patton arrived it was already in the middle of the plot’s clímax, but neither commented on it - and barely jumping on the bean bag when Roman opened the door with no discretion.

 "If that is a sad movie that I hear I will slay you all. Except for you, Patty Cake, I will fight for you." He came in, phone still pressed between his shoulder and ear, his hands too occupied in not letting the bows full of cookies, popcorn, chocolate and a lonely pot of ice cream to fall. He lightly hit Patton's thigh with his foot. "Move, I'm gay."

 "Hi gay, I’m Patton." He chuckled, that time it sounded a bit stronger.

 "We are not eating this absurd amount of sugar." Logan replied, profusely ignoring Patton's pun.

 "Thank you for your input, Microsoft Nerd." Roman answered with a joyful, fake tune, totally unfazed by Logan's half not-amused and half but-also-not-surprised stare. "If you have any complaints in regards to the attendant's service we ask for you to fill a complaint form that will be carefully read by our team, who will do their best to apply the necessary changes in a near future. Roman's company-" a loud gasp cut his words when Logan forcefully grabbed one bowl and took part of the cookies and chocolates inside it. "Hey! This is mine!"

 "No, this is Virgil's. He won't be able to come for our movie night so he asked us to keep some food for him."

 "Do you think if we watch more movies we will be able to wait for him to come back?" Patton questioned.

 "I can't say for certain since I am not sure how long his date will be."

 Roman snorted. "If I taught him well, he is not coming for tonight. Gotta enjoy the-" Patton shoved a cookie on Roman's face, successfully stopping his sentence.

 "Nope!" He smiled, now proceeding to shove a cookie on his own mouth before trying to give Logan the same treatment, pouting when he saw that the other was already munching a sweet, eyeing him warily. He unpaused the movie. "He is my baby brother and I'm not thinking about that!"

 The movie night started quiet. For today, quiet was more than nice to Patton.

 Then, in the part when the protagonist learned that there was magic in her world, Logan grabbed his hand and started to trace lightly, in slow shapes all the way over the lines across his palm, his fingers sometimes traveling to his pulse and forearm in a few swirls before going back to the previous spot. A small, however permanent smile began to gleam on Patton’s face.

 He knew this was going to happen. Logan was one of his first friends who discovered his liking for tickling somewhere on the beginning of their journey to their friendship, as well as how comforting that activity could be for him.

 A faint blush still dotted his cheeks when he thought about that. Today was not an exception, the soft touches made butterflies wiggle their wings in excitement on his tummy, a wobbly tune taking over his smile, especially when he saw Logan’s slight grin at his quiet reactions.

 Patton glued his eyes on the screen, refusing to acknowledge his friend’s antics, which led to a yelp escaping from his barriers when a hand rested on his side, pulling him closer to the half hug and sneaking a couple of pokes on the ticklish spot.

 “You good, Pat?” Roman quirked an eyebrow in his direction and Patton felt his face get hottier, giggles beginning to bubble in his throat when the pokes evolved to a drag of fingers that went up to his ribs and then down, back to his hips, blunt nails spiraling and teasing carefully the sensitive skin. He did his best to not squeal and squirm away.

 “Yes! I aham.” He beamed, trying to dislodge the walking tickles and dissipate the giddy energy spreading across his nerves. “I just really like this sce-eene!”

 Logan hummed innocently under Patton’s pout thrown in his direction, as if didn’t just squeeze his side right when he was talking. “I believe it’s an important scene for the plot, yes.”

  Roman squinted his eyes at the screen. "She's literally just asleep.”

 “Yeah!” Patton giggled, scrunching his nose as he did so. “I think that part is very-” Logan decided that was a very good time to concentrate his efforts on prodding and exploring every single ticklish inch of his right lowest rib, knowing very well each weak spot and wasting not a single effort to put his best friend in stitches. Patton felt his resolve break, uncontrollable titters pouring from his lips. “Funny!” He squealed. “Very, very funny!”

 “Really, can you explain why you think that, please?”

 “Logan!”

 “I am merely curious to understand your concept of humor, Patton.” Logan mused, finally letting go of his hand to attack his sides, making the cat lover to clap his hands on his mouth, hiding the snorts who were trying to fly from his lips. “Maybe I will even start to see why you’re so adamant on making so many puns on your daily basis.”

 Patton shook his head, giving up from trying to not react to his friend’s attack in order to wiggle away from his curious hands and silly scribbly fingers. Sadly, he ended up making the mistake of turning his back to Roman, who, watching the whole ordeal, let a devilish smirk take over his face.

 Before Patton could even protest against Logan’s words, two arms hugged him from bei, hands squirming to rest, in a mock of safety, on his armpits. “Hey, Specs, guess what!”

 “No! Roman!” Patton squeaked, kicking at the feeling of one more attack concentrated on another ticklish spot, crackles beginning to paint his laughter here and there as Roman’s fingers began to tease the skin, his thumbs just barely twitching on the place, fingers clawing at his high ribs. “No, no, please!”

 “Yes, Roman?” Logan answered, using the opportunity to give the other a break and stop his tickling.

 “You know what I realized? That Patty Cake here,” Patton’s giggles only got higher when Roman decided to nuzzle his neck, words coming out muffled as they hit the sensitive skin. “Who has the purest, sweetest dazzling smile, haven’t told us how amazing he is today.”

 “Nonono, please not this! Not this!” Patton turned to Logan, who was the more susceptible and within his field of view. He put the best puppy eyes he could muster through his giggles and uncontrollable titters that still fell from his lips. “Lo-lo,” he pouted in order to give his face a stronger power. Logan stared at him as a deed caught in the light. “Plehehea- nahaha!” A shriek flew from his mouth. “Roman, not fair!”

 Roman smirked, dramatically preparing himself for another raspberry.

 “Don’t even think about using your evil Puppy Eyes on our defenseless Microsoft Nerd!” He drowned Logan’s protest by making Patton shriek with another attack. Peals of loud laughter filled the room when he decided to release smaller raspberries, traveling from one side to other of the cat lover’s neck.

“Anyway,” Logan ruffed, concentrating a sea of squeezes on Patton’s knees as a revenge, relishing in the way his blush travelled over all his face when snorts and squeals began to become more and more frequent. “You were talking about making Patton tell us something?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking about being really nice today, since our dear Laffy Taffy Patty looks a bit tired.” As the words came out of his mouth, Roman changed his technique to something softer, watching amused as Patton wiggled non when he decided to drag his fingers on his sides, scribbling them to his chin - and, of course, resting a couple of kisses on his neck, he wasn’t a monster - and them tapping his way down, this time choosing to give a bit of attention to his shaky tummy. “So we could just make him admit something small and simple, really! You won’t even notice when the words come out, dear!” He changed his attention to the victim on his arms, hugging him close and nuzzling him.

“Please! Not there, not there!!” Patton tried to dislodge the other’s tickly affection from his ears and neck, but being constantly distracted by Logan, who kept sneaking horribly, unbearable scratches to the sensitive skin under his knees everytime he stopped trying to pry his hands from his legs. “I wihihill give you my cohohokies! All of them! Plehehease.”

“That is very kind of you, Patton. However, I think it isn’t very polite of you to interrupt Roman like that.” Logan tsked, now letting  go of both his knees to concentrate his efforts in tormenting the weak spots of just one. “Please, I do ask for you to refrain from laughing about such a serious matter. I can almost believe you’re not taking your cheering up as seriously as we are.”

“I am! I am!!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you-” he snorted, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “You are t-tickling me!”

Logan’s eyes lit up with mischief, a playful wink being thrown at Roman’s direction before he returned his gaze to the previously-sad friend. “I can guarantee you I am not.” 

“Falsehohohood!”

“Very well.” The one with an unicorn onesie lifted his arms, crossing them on his chest just as the other attacker also stopped his tickling. “See? I am not even touching you. And yet you’re still giggling yourself silly as, ah, Roman would say.”

Patton clamped his mouth shut, trying to keep the remainescent giggles trapped on his chest, a slight feeling of dejavu hitting him. He shook his head.

“No? You’re not a Smiley Laffy Taffy, you say?”

“Stop stealing my sweet nicknames!”

Just as the one with a big, truly gigantic smile would shake his head again, his giggling actually being subdued, Roman decided that was just the perfect moment to vibrate his hands on his lower stomach, his barrier crumbling, again, in a matter of seconds.

“Roman!”

“I see.” Logan mused, in between Patton’s high pitched squeaks when the other failed to cease his attack. “So, you're a serious case of Giggle Bug.”

“Am not!” He cried in protest, holding Roman’s pulse, not really trying to push it away.

“Oh, no!” Roman dramatically cried, fishing more laughter from the puppy lover. “What are we going to do Patton? Are we doomed to hear your cute, amazing giggly giggles and delightful laughter forever and ever and ever? What shall we do, Specs?”

Logan sighs, deep and serious, adjusting his glasses. “I fear there is nothing we can do except mitigate this unfortunate situation. As you can see…” Logan poked Patton’s torso, prodding some of the most ticklish ribs with a tiny, soft smile when the other bounced around, happy yelps pouring from his lips. He cleaned his throat, going back to the character. “This ribcage is full of all sorts of trapped squeals, snorts, squeaks, titters and giggles. As Patton’s friends, we must free them all to help him.”

“Crofters!” Patton suddenly blurted out, his laughter almost making the words untelligible. “I will tell you where Ro-ro keeps his Crof-nahahaha!” Patton squirmed when Roman kneaded his hips, a mischief glint still present on his smile. “Rohohoman!”

“Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!” The one with red pajamas protested with a betrayed shriek. “Patton! After all the adventures we had gone through, after accepting you in my family as a brother, how could you do that to me? Oh, jail for friend! Jail for the Giggle Bug for one thousand of years!”

“I am sorry! I am very sahahaharrey!” Patton’s eyes widened when he saw Roman form a claw with his both hands, slowly descending them to his belly. “Waitwaitwait! Ro! Ro-ro! Ple-please!”

“No can do, Patty Cake.” Roman sighed in faux sadness, wiggling his fingers for a good effect. “Now I have no alternative except having to getcha, getcha, getcha! Your yummy tummy is all mine, now. ~”

But then nothing happened.

Roman’s hands stopped, leaving a puddle of giggly Patton to basically melt more in his embrace, lost in titters and phantom tickles.

“Oh,” Roman said, carefully, the tune of his voice making a shiver run across Logan’s spine. “Hello, Logan.”

Logan accepted his fate, trying another experimental squeeze at the dramatic friend’s side and receiving, just like his first try a few seconds ago, no reaction. He sighed. “I presume you’re not ticklish on your sides, then.”

“And I presume it just takes the mention of Crofters to make you turn the tables.” Roman gave Patton a last quick kiss on his neck, gaining another happy giggle before ruffling his hair. “Excuse me, Giggly Bug, it seems like our dear Blushy Bear is craving for a bit of my tickly attention right now.”

Patton hugged his sides, smile shiny as the sun, the clouds which previously assaulted him haven been already disappeared for a long time, now. His gleaming eyes glued on Logan, smile widening when he remembered he was the one who started everything.

“Get him, Ro-ro!”

And, as pleas and teases felt the air, Patton took another deep breath, letting his friends have some fun before he turned the tables at Roman, since he also deserved some good, nice tickles for being such a caring friend. Soon enough Logan’s laughter rang across the room and Patton only smiled wider.

Full of life, indeed.

[just-a-dumb-gay]

I Trust You - Lady Dimitrescu X Reader - 958 Words

Prompt from an Anon: I loved your nightmare drabble and now I crave the same in reverse Lady Dimitrescu having a nightmare and being comforted 

Tags: reader gender is not specified, this has more angst than i planned sorry, but it has a fluffy ending, alcina really loves her tiny human, doesn't fit exactly with the prompt but i still like the result

You're having a restless night and to kill time you're scrolling through your phone, one earphone in listening to music quietly. 

Alcina is asleep beside you, her arm over your stomach, gentle but stll firm enough to keep you in place. It never fails to amuse you that an 9 foot tall vampire who could kill you, or anyone, without even blinking is by far one of the most affectionate people you've ever met. 

You glance at the clock which is currently reading 3:17am and you wonder where time has gone, you could've swore it was midnight not too long ago. Despite not being tired yet you decide to put your phone down and attempt to sleep again.

You have to move very carefully so as not to wake Alcina, and you panic when she starts mumbling in her sleep thinking you've accidentally woken her. You manage to put your phone down slowly without anymore moving but as you attempt to shimmy further under the blanket Alcina mumbles again and holds you tighter. It would be cute but she's holding you a little too tight and it's starting to hurt.

You attempt to shake her awake but the second you touch her shoulder her eyes shoot open and a clawed hand is above your throat, one claw just ever so slightly digging into you but enough that you can feel a small amount of blood running down your neck. 

You stay as still as you can, the only sound being Alcina's heavy breathing. She stares at her hand over your neck for a moment before reality comes back to her and she realizes what's happening. She moves her hand away as quickly as it got you, nothing but terror in her eyes.

You sit up, completely ignoring the sting in your neck, and try to take her hand but she flinches away from you. 

She whispers "I'm sorry" barely audibly, before getting out of bed and rushing into the bathroom nearly slamming the door behind her.

You don't bother to try and understand what happened, you just follow her without a second thought for your own safety.

You knock on the door but get no reply, so you try again a little louder. And this time you get a reply. 

"Stay away, I don't want to hurt you." 

You roll your eyes knowing she would never hurt you on purpose and let yourself into the room.

"Please don't come any closer." You can see she's terrified of hurting you again, it's something she's been afraid of since the second she started caring about you.

"You won't hurt me, I trust you." You take a step closer and take her hand, but still keep your distance a little. "Look, nothing serious. It'll be healed within a week." You tilt your head to show the small scratch on your neck. 

But she doesn't reply so you try to lighten the mood. "You know me, I'm excited to have a scar left by a vampire." 

That earns you a small smile, she always finds your nerdy side endearing. But you can still see she looks extremely guilty.

"How about I get cleaned up then we go back to bed?" You suggest.

"Why are you not scared of me?" She asks, finally looking you in the eye.

"You came running to check on me after you heard me swearing at a bookshelf because I stubbed my toe." You laugh slightly remembering that being the day you found out just how much she cares. "Last week you stayed up all night to make sure I was okay, I only had a cold." You step closer to her and take her other hand, "I know you would never hurt me on purpose." 

You place a soft kiss on the back of each of her hands, one of the ways you both say I love you without talking while watching a movie or before falling asleep.

She glances at the now dry blood on your neck before turning around and running a cloth under warm water to help clean you up. Cleaning you up is an easy enough task, and Alcina is beyond careful as she covers the wound. 

Once everything is dealt with you lead her back to bed and only once you're under the covers do you remember just how cold the castle can be at night. 

You both lay face to face, the dim moonlight making Alcina's eyes glow just a little bit. You lightly trace your fingertips down her cheek and along her jawline.

"What did you dream about?" You ask quietly.

She stays silent for a moment before explaining that she had a nightmare about vampire hunters thinking you were one of her daughters and killing you to get to her. She also explains that you woke her up as she was dreaming of killing the one who hurt you. 

"I never used to care much about vampire hunters, but then you came along. And you're nothing compared to their weapons. I don't want to lose you." 

And for possibly the first time ever, you see Alcina cry. But you're right there to wipe her tears.

"You're never going to lose me. I know if anything goes wrong you'll be there, and there is nobody I trust more with my life." 

Your intention was to comfort her, but instead you make her cry a little more. You pull her close and she tucks her head under your chin, arm over your thigh and gripping the back of your hoodie. 

Nothing more is said as you run your fingers through her hair until she eventually falls asleep, safe in the arms of the human she's fallen madly in love with.

The End

It is late, I am sleep deprived. I checked this for spelling mistakes and that's all. Goodnight!

[fanfic-me-up]

All The Colors We Cannot See {Bakugou x Reader}

Synopsis: He sees you in the colors that light the sky, and longs for you in the darkness that follows.

Pairing: Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x fem! reader

Warnings: attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, language

Word Count: 4k+

A/N: This took me like 9 months to complete, but it’s finally here. I didn’t completely stick to the request, but this is what came out. I still hope you like it! Banner made by my amazingly talented friend, go follow her @jm.rvice on instagram! 💖

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Blood pumps to his legs. Cement pounds his feet. Bits of rubble catch in his boots. The first spark of the night shoots up- swallowed whole by the black sky. A trail of embers remains in its wake. 

Katsuki stops. And waits.

A second passes- the crowd silent in anticipation. No one can see the spark, but everyone knows it’s there… waiting…  for the right time to explode. And just when the darkness thinks it has won, an enormous burst of light blankets the sky. In that moment, it’s so bright that Katsuki can see the skyline. Like paint splattered on a blank canvas, the sky now bleeds in red, and the explosion leaves an imprint the size of a supernova long after it’s gone. 

The crowd applauds. 

A roar is ripped from Katsuki’s throat. He pounds at the brick wall again and again, despite blood trickling down his fists. He rips his cochlear and smashes it against the wall. A sick satisfaction settles within him. The ringing that greets him is like a devil sucking on the lobe, whispering tempestuous nothings into his ear. 

Katsuki continues his ascent, taking steps by three until he reaches the top. The poor door is yanked off its hinges, but it doesn’t even cross Katsuki’s mind as he’s hit by everything all at once. Smoke slithers down his throat, roasted yakitori wafts up his nose, the rhythmic booms caress his ear, and the lavender shaded sky comforts his eyes. From up here, the people below remind Katsuki of the dots he used to see after he ignited a big explosion- how the dots blur, mix, and separate in one fluid motion again and again. 

His phone ringing is a distant echo. They’re looking for him no doubt, but who the hell cares. Not like they’d find him up here. This was yours and Katsuki’s place.

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

He’d blow himself up if he missed even a second. 

His lungs burned. They ached for a clean breath, yet inhaled the stench of nitroglycerin-like sweat. He could’ve just blasted himself to the top and saved himself the trouble, but fuck. That. Katsuki thrived on a challenge. He loved the rush of adrenaline more than his own mother. (He’d never tell her that- she’d kill him before he reached this goddamn roof.)

He threw himself against the door in time to see the first burst of citrine hit the sky. But he also saw you, a trespasser, standing on the ledge and looking like you were about to kill yourself. You didn’t flinch at the sonic boom (like most people) nor cringe at the heat. It was like you thought the beauty outweighed its destruction. 

All that said you were fucking stupid.

“Oi! Get down from there!” 

You were immersed in skylight, and though your back was turned, Katsuki knew you were staring up in awe; your eyes reminiscent of glassy pools reflecting red, yellow, blue and all the possibilities they create. 

“Fuckin’ hell…” Katsuki muttered. He just wanted to enjoy the show in his spot. Alone. Like he did every year. “Oi, lady! You wanna kill yourself? Do it on some other roof dammit!” 

You jumped at the blasted words, losing your balance and falling off the ledge. Katsuki expected you to scream, to gasp, to cry... anything but fucking wink on your way down like playing with death is just some fucking game. But Katsuki had no time to think before he blasted himself across the roof to grab your hand- but you didn’t need it. You threw a safety line in mid-air, hooked it to the ledge with skillful precision, and used the leverage to hurl yourself back up. You landed on the ledge like a ballerina tip-toeing on a tightrope. The sheer turn of events rendered Katsuki speechless. 

 “Phew! That was fun! Let’s do it again sometime, yeah?” You wrapped the safety chord before bouncing up to Katsuki.

The fuck?

How did you…? 

 You didn’t seem to notice Katsuki’s loss for words.

“I’ve never met someone with a quirk like yours. You could put on your very own firework show!”

You tried grabbing his hand, but Katsuki’s growl stopped you. The flickers popping in his hands were a sign to back the fuck off.

You’re scared. Good, Katsuki thought.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m a bit of a pyro.” You sheepishly smiled, twirling a pink and yellow band around your finger. (You’d later twirl your wedding ring the same way.) 

Katsuki’s growl cut in its tracks. You weren’t scared like he thought, in fact, you looked lost in his sparks- your eyes zooming back and forth, trying to catch each and every one. Katsuki killed his sparks, causing you to look up at him in disappointment.

“I can’t. Mine don’t change color,” he muttered. 

Fireworks always fascinated Katsuki. As a child, he wished his explosions could change color. He imagined people looking up in awe when his sparks rained down. They’d recognize the power and the beauty.

“Hmm…color is what makes a firework...” you trailed off.

“No shit,” Katsuki snorted. How stupid are you? 

“Hold out your hands.” 

Katsuki crossed his arms, “No.”

“Oh, c’mon! Gimme your hands!” You bounced up and down, overcome with excitement. Katsuki stepped back but immediately stopped himself because Bakugou Katsuki never backs down. 

“I’m not giving you anything, woman. You’re fuckin’ weird for jumpin’ off roofs and asking for stranger’s hands. Stay the fuck away from me. In fact, this is my fuckin’ roof. Find your own.” Katsuki looked down to see his hands popping. It must’ve happened on instinct- a defense mechanism to scare off the extras who won’t leave him the fuck alone. 

Except it didn’t work on you. You only came closer. 

“Do you want to burn in color or not?” 

Katsuki saw flashes of himself in your eyes everytime a firework went off. A hunger burned in the pit of his stomach- one he’s felt countless times during battle, but this one was different. This strange warmth made him feel like jumping off the roof himself, and if he put all his might into it, he could brush the spark of a firework from fifty feet above.

“Yes,” he said. 

“Then you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“Trust you!?” Katsuki shook his head, “I don’t even know you!”

“That’s half the fun, isn’t it?” You giggled, “Now hold still.” 

Katsuki grumbled how ridiculous this was, and that whatever you tried wouldn’t work, but you ignored him in favor of pulling his hands and laying them face up. You nodded and Katsuki sighed, activating his quirk anyway because what the hell.

You’re entranced from the moment flickers popped, one by one, in his hands. They died as quickly as they were born, but still left their mark in the air. 

Katsuki’s sparks faltered as cool fingertips brushed against his wrist. 

“It’s okay, keep going,” you encourage, and he does. 

He can’t pinpoint exactly when the change happened. Like all change, he blinked and suddenly his sparks burned in color. Angry red, rooted in tormented crimson, ravished the usual, boring, orange of his sparks. 

Katsuki laughed in disbelief because how is this real? Yellow began to flicker in and out of the red, until it finally caught like a flame and engulfed the red like a warm blanket. Pink and light green began to swirl around the yellow, and the firework show Katsuki had been looking forward to all year didn’t hold a candle to the fireworks fluttering in the palms of his hands.

Katsuki looked up at you. 

Who the fuck are you? 

You giggled at his awed expression, “Our very own firework show.”

And that’s how you spent the rest of the night. His hands in yours while he burned in color for the first time.

Katsuki later discovered you could read emotions through auras. The aura becomes visible, allowing you to color a person’s quirk.

He also discovered that you didn’t need to hold his hand for it to work.

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

A round of fireworks triggers the ringing in Katsuki’s ear. He throws his head back in ecstasy and prays the sensation tickles his eardrum for a little longer- enough to shut the part of his brain that keeps remembering you. 

Katsuki pulls the pistol out. The leather grip, so slick with sweat, that Katsuki has to wipe his hand to make sure he doesn’t accidentally set off his quirk. 

He’s not an amateur. He’s held a gun before. Every pro-hero has to undergo weapons training, but he’s never used one in combat. His quirk was always more than enough. But there’s something inherently dangerous about a gun. His quirk is an extension of himself, but a gun is a separate entity altogether- and it was designed to kill. 

Growing up, adults would praise Katsuki for his quirk. They’d say, “With a quirk like that, you’re destined to become a hero!” But they were still afraid to get too close. They saw his quirk as a weapon that was designed to destroy. And soon enough, Katsuki became the embodiment of just that. But he always felt incomplete. He wanted to be a hero like All Might. One that people looked up to- in awe of their power, not in fear of it.

That’s why he loved fireworks. The only explosion that makes people stop and stare, instead of running away, in fear for their lives.

You were the first and only person to see the beauty in his quirk.

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“What’s your favorite color?” 

Such a basic question that Katsuki should already have the answer to. But color meant so much more to you. You saw the world in a way that made everyone else seem colorblind. 

You twirled that same pink and yellow band around your finger as Katsuki twirled the ring in his pocket. You leaned in closer, basking in the warmth radiating from Katsuki. He watched how your eyes never left the sky, and he was content with missing the show if it meant he can watch you instead. He caught glimpses of you only when lit by a firework. He made sure not to blink during those moments else he’d miss you. Your expressions mixed and swirled as the fireworks continued, but you never lost the primary color of mesmerization painting your face.

“Blue,” you said. Katsuki had to lean in to listen; your voice an ember in a sea of fire. “But not sky blue like on a sunny day. It’s nice, but I much prefer the darker washes of blue, deep like sapphire.”

Blue, the color of sadness. 

“Why blue?” Katsuki asked. The ring in his pocket danced between his fingers.

You turned back to the fireworks. You always made sure to think before you speak when answering a question that mattered.

“Because there’s always an interesting story behind an aura of such sorrow, more importantly, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“So your favorite color isn’t blue, it’s yellow,” Katsuki cut in, but you shook your head.

“There’s nowhere to go but down with yellow. Yellow is the epitome of brightness and joy, and when you crash during the high, you crash hard. But when you’re drowning in deep blue, as I’ve seen many people do, you’re at the lowest of lows- you really can’t get any lower in this life. But when an aura- and I’ve only seen this once- when an aura changes from the deepest of sapphire to sunrise yellow- well it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The twirling of the ring in his pocket stopped. 

“That is why I believe blue is the true color of hope,” you whispered.

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Katsuki should feel the smooth texture of leather as he grips the gun in his hand. He should feel the weight of the gun as he brings it to his temple. But he’s numb to it all. It’s like an invisible string, pulling at his muscles, directing his body how to move. His mind goes blank for the first time, and all the inner-turmoil he’s been unable to escape just straight up… stops. It’s like he’s floating in a body of water with no current. Complete and utter stillness.

It scares the fuck outta him, but it feels good. 

As he’s about to turn the safety off, his phone rings again, snapping him back to reality. Katsuki guts his phone.

“Die!” 

The phone slides down the door like a dead pidgeon. 

“God-fuckin’-damn it...” He pushes the barrel back to his temple, craving that mind-numbing stillness once more. Anything to stop the feelings that just won’t seem to go away. 

The fireworks crescendo as the show reaches its climax. The colors begin to mix and blur together so much that it becomes too convoluted to look at. An infinite regress of color swirling in Katsuki’s mind.

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

You glowed on purpose so Katsuki could find you. He spotted you from miles away, like a beacon of light in the middle of a storm. The melancholic blue of your aura contrasted against the raging reds that painted the sky.

Katsuki ran. He pushed and pushed past his limit, harder than any battle he’s fought in. He could’ve made it if he used his quirk, but he was in a crowded marketplace with too many people. He ripped off his gauntlets and threw them in a random alley. He immediately gained speed. A couple more feet and one minute left.

He should’ve saved his breath. If he did, he would’ve caught you in time. But he had to make sure you knew he was there. You looked down at the sound of your name. He could barely make out your face, but you saw him. He knew you saw him because your aura changed from that melancholic blue to sunrise yellow in an instant. Everyone around him gasped at the flood of light emanating from above. 

You were right. It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

If Katsuki produced a strong enough blast, he could make his way to the top and get you out before the bomb went off. At this point, he didn’t care who else might get hurt in the process. Next to him, Kirishima knew what Katsuki was thinking. He hardened himself to block Katsuki’s takeoff.

“Don’t do it, bro.”

“Get outta my way.”

“You can’t make it.”

“Yes I can.”

“You’ll both die.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP” Katsuki pushed him away, and prepared to blast himself, when two other heroes stepped in to hold him down, but no one stood a chance when Katsuki goes feral. Explosions erupted, not enough to seriously hurt, but enough to get people to back the fuck off. Even Kirishima (whose quirk is to literally be a human barricade) was having trouble blocking Katsuki. One more blast was enough to send Kirishima back and Katsuki used that half a second to blast off. But suddenly he couldn’t. He tried and he tried, but his quirk refused to work. A growl escaped from low in his throat as he whipped his head around, trying to find the cause to his problem so he could decimate it. 

Target acquired. 

Katsuki was about to march right up to his high school homeroom teacher and deck him right in his fuckin’ face, but before he could, he was held down once again.

He couldn’t fight three pro-heroes off without his quirk. He couldn’t get to you without his quirk. All Katsuki could do was look up and watch you die. 

Five seconds left.

He saw it in your face. The moment you realized he wouldn’t be able to save you. The yellow of your aura growing dimmer and dimmer.

Three.

You smiled through your tears.

Two.

And winked. 

One.

Then closed your eyes as you took your last breath.

The darkness that followed was unbearable.

A cacophonous wail erupted from Katsuki’s throat- loud enough to go up against any explosion. He couldn’t help but fall to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer. He still wasn’t able to use his quirk and that only frustrated him more. 

He’d never felt so helpless in his life.

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

He hardly uses his quirk anymore because he sees you in the sparks. He’s got no drive to be Number 1 if you’re not here to watch him do it. His will to live is gone without you and that scares the fuck outta him. He hates you for filling his head with ridiculous bullshit. He hates you for opening his mind to the possibility of love, and hope, and shit that shouldn’t matter but it fuckin’ does for some goddamn reason. He hates you. He hates you. He hates you.

That same cacophonous wail erupts from his very core. The gun falls from his hands, to the ground. It could’ve gone off at that moment and Katsuki would never know. 

His focus zeroes on his hands. How tense they get when he flexes them, how the vein protrudes from his wrist, and how his glands secrete sweat from his palms. He points them to the sky, and a familiar rush of power, that he hasn’t felt in months, surges through him. His blood boils from under his skin and he’s literally shaking from the intensity. Like a volcano spewing hot-blooded lava after an eternity of dormancy, he shoots blinding white heat into the black night.

The color from the fireworks surround his explosions as if they’re echoing his sentiment. Hot red dominates the sky- reminding Katsuki of the sky that night. This causes Katsuki to rattle off explosions quicker, setting off one after another in a staccato rhythm. The crimson sky ravishes all other color. 

If only he saved his breath. If only he’d taken off his gauntlets sooner. If only he ran a little faster. If only he blasted himself a second earlier. If only he didn’t stay back at work that day. If only he turned right instead of left at that goddamn intersection. If only he picked up the ingredients for your favorite meal the day before so he could go straight home. If only he didn’t have to drive back to the market because he fuckin’ forgot the milk again. If only he decided it was still worth it to pick you up from work early like he planned. If only he cared more about your anniversary than about cracking Top 10. If only he went to more of your art shows instead of taking extra patrols. If only he went on that trip to New York with you instead of cancelling last minute because the agency needed him. If only he realized that you meant more to him than being Number 1 before it was too late.

Little by little the crimson wash is buried by the black night and Katsuki’s eyes hurt just staring into the black abyss. It’s suffocating him, weighing his chest down and making it hard to breathe. It’s enough to drop him to his knees, just like he did that night.

You and Katsuki had long talks about your future plans. How you fit into his life, and how he fit into yours. When you’d be able to properly settle down and have kids. You accepted that the first couple years into his career would be the toughest on your marriage. Katsuki would spend more time at the agency than at home with you. Relationships with pro-heroes were like that. But you respected his ambitions. You understood the amount of time that was required to fulfill those ambitions. You never held it over him, never guilted him into spending more time with you, and never made him choose between you or his career. You loved him enough to share him with the rest of the world. You were never each other’s other halves. Instead, you co-existed as separate individuals who made the best team Katsuki’s ever been a part of. 

Yellow begins to flicker in and out, but it’s muted behind the black veil of regret. The more Katsuki thinks of your empathy and your love, the stronger the yellow becomes. It finally brightens the black sky, to the point that Katsuki almost has to cover his eyes because it’s like looking into the sun in the middle of the day. 

And that’s when it clicks.

He’s burning in color.

You must be conducting this masterpiece from above, using the sky as your canvas and coloring the emotions coming from within him.

He kills his explosions as quickly as he fired them. The fireworks come to an end at the same time. The crowd’s cheers is a fly on the wall to Katsuki.

He falls back, lying flat on the ground and looking up at the sky still shaded in yellow. His chest heaves as he tries to get his breathing back to normal, and the sloppy mixture of sweat and tears continue to slide down his face. The cool breeze is a blessing against the nape of his neck.

He struggles to hold his hands up, they shake as he brings them up to his face. He reignites his quirk with the last bit of strength. The sparks lack their usual vigor as they flutter lazily in his palms. They remind him of fireflies swirling in a jar. For once, the orange doesn’t piss him off. 

Has anyone else seen his quirk like this? When he’s not trying to intimidate or take down a villain? The only person he could think of was you. Maybe his quirk wouldn’t be seen as a weapon, maybe he wouldn’t be seen as a villain, if the world saw what he’s seeing right now.

Katsuki sits in this revelation, and the calm that washes over him is nothing like the numbness from before. He’s far from being okay, and he still longs for you in these moments, but Katsuki has a hunch that if you were here right now - holding his hands in yours- his sparks would be burning in your favorite color. And he’s okay with that.

“That is why I believe blue is the true color of hope.”

Katsuki’s phone goes off even in its broken state. His eyes dart between the phone and the gun. He groans as he gets up. His limbs, heavy, after exerting himself. He picks up his phone.

“Hey. Yeah, man, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

Katsuki’s about to hang up when he takes a look at the gun. A reminder of what he was about to do. A decision he could never come back from.

 If things turned out different, he would not be here right now.  

Just the thought is enough to make Katsuki slide down the wall. He takes a deep breath- his heart beating rapidly at what he’s about to admit aloud for the first time.

“Actually, I’m not okay. I need you to come get me.”

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

The Plus Ultra Chronicle

Musutafu Tower Attack: 06/18/2020

WHEN HOPE PREVAILS:

A DAY OF REMEMBRANCE

By: Yamamoto Ichika

06/18/2021

Today marks the one year anniversary of the 2020 Musutafu Tower Attack. Hundreds gathered this morning in remembrance of the lives lost that night. Several people who’ve lost loved ones in the attack have already come forward with statements.

Of those people, Number 7 Hero, Dynamight, has chosen to sit down with The Plus Ultra Chronicle for an all-exclusive interview. His late wife, Bakugou Y/N, was among the citizens that were held hostage that night. After taking a year sabbatical, he has decided to return to the field of pro-hero work. Here is a snippet of that interview; you can find the full interview here. 

“Thank you, Dynamight, for sitting down with us. It is truly an honor. The people want to know- what are your thoughts on what occurred that night? Can you take us through what happened?”

“It was hard on us all. Whether you were at home watching on a screen or out there in person. All of us heroes felt like sh*t- unable to do anything. It’s even worse when you had a personal attachment to a victim like I did.”

“It must’ve been difficult as a hero- having to make quick decisions that forced you to separate your personal life from the objectivity of the situation.”

“If I’m being honest, I couldn’t, and it took a toll on me.”

“Is that why you took the sabbatical?”

“Yes. I constantly questioned the validity of my title. Whether or not I deserved to be called a ‘hero’ if I couldn’t save the one person I vowed to always protect.”

“You’ll be returning to the field next month, and with a new addition to your hero costume. An amulet of what looks to be a blue-colored spark attached to the left side of your chest. It stands out against the black, orange, and green of your costume. What is the meaning of this?” 

“When I was at my lowest, my failures were all I could see. But someone once told me that you can’t get any lower when you’re at that point. The only real change you can make is to acknowledge and move forward.” 

“A symbol of hope is definitely something we all need right now. What made you decide to finally give an official statement?”

“It is my responsibility to protect the citizens of Japan so this never happens again. But I also think it is important for people to see the shortcomings of the heroes they look up to. We’re human too. We f*ck up. I used to think that made someone weak. Now, I see it as part of the journey. The testament of a true hero.”

[shushiyuii]

maybe some soft sbi naga hurt/comfort nomfs?

g!naga phil and t!techno, tommy and wilbur (human)

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Warnings: Soft vore, mentions of fatal vore and death.

Words: 2K+

Phil was known to be a guardian of sorts, he protected those under his territory, which included the human villages that were built there. He never hated these villages, he actually worked with a majority of them and got along fairly well with the village people.

It’s where he actually met his beloved wife, Kristin. She lived in the village, but the thing is she was mainly an adventurer. And Phil fell in love with her, he was head over heels for her. He allowed Kristin to venture out, with the promise that she’d come home to see him now and again.

He was content with how things were going but to be, but that all changed one day.

One day, Kristin came back, screaming for help. His pointed ears twitched, and he slithered as quickly as he could to the voice. When he arrived, he saw Kristin protecting three human boys. And they were surrounded by people he recognised to be intruders.

Before they could strike, Phil protectively shielded them with his tail. And hissed at the intruders, they seemed to crumble at the sight of Phil, screaming and running. Running as far away as they could from the monster.

Phil knelt down to look closely and the humans. There Kristin was panting from having to hold off so many, behind her were three boys holding onto her. One of them had brown hair and eyes, who was holding hands with the smallest of the three.

He had short blonde hair and bright blue eyes, which reminded Phil of himself, then there was the third. Who had brownish-pink hair and bright blue eyes.

He looked to Kristin, “You okay, Love? That seemed difficult” he asked with concern on his features. “I’m fine honey, thank you. I- Uhm actually have some people I want you to meet!”.

She picked up the smallest of the three and walked closer to Phil and directed the other two to follow her. She was now right in front of Phil. “Phil, this is Tommy”, she held up the smallest slightly, then she pointed to the brunette “Wilbur”, then the last. “Techno”.

Phil hummed happily, “Hello there”. None of them replied, they almost seemed scared and neither of the two could blame them in the slightest. “So, Hon. What are you doing with these boys?”.

“They’re runaways from a village, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the boys as they tried to steal from me”. She laughed as Phil furrowed an eyebrow in curiosity.

Her expression saddened though, “I actually tried to find them a place in some of the nearby villages but..”. She looked away slightly, “To put it simply, there’s not really anybody who has room or money to take in three extra kids.”.

She then looked to Phil with begging eyes, “So I was wondering…”.

Phil smiled and brought his fingertip to his darling’s face, who smiled herself. “Of course, we’ve been meaning of having kids for a while now. Haven’t we?”.

And that’s how he met his three boys, he never regretted his decision of taking in these kids. Kristin helped in raising them as Phil was sometimes way too big to care for them, but they grew up, the eldest twins were now in their teens and the youngest a growing boy.

Their mother now continued her adventures, shorter than they used to be though as she usually now brought back food and souvenirs for them.

Tommy had grown up to be rather loud and adventurous, he reminded him of Kristin at times. He was his mother’s boy. Techno grew up to be the more protective of the three, often training with his mom and Phil in combat so he knew how to protect all of them, not only that but he grew up to love farming, he was much more reserved than his twin.

Now for his twin, Wilbur. He grew up to be the creative one of the three, loving music and using words more than his sibling. He also loved to spend time with his family and such.

And now for as long as he’s had the boys, they were growing up fast. And he was worried that soon enough they may not need him anymore or they could get hurt. But he knew one thing and that was he’d protect them to the very end.

There was one thing he hadn’t brought up though as he raised the boys. He never brought it up in case of frightening them. He had his worries like, “the big scary beast eats his kids” kind of worries. He knew the kids trusted him, but he had no idea how they’d react to that sort of thing.

As of Today though, they were heading out for the day. So, they could spend time outside of their cave. Tommy was beyond excited, jumping up and down on his father’s shoulder as he waited for his siblings.

They soon came down, Wilbur with his guitar smiling as he saw his brother happily jumping. Techno just didn’t seem to care, but they all knew he was excited as well as he carried his sword.

Phil then took the three of them to an opening in the trees. He allowed the boys to venture as he coiled up and sunbathed. He could hear Techno swinging his sword against the tree, Wilbur strumming his guitar and his son trying to climb on him as a jungle gym, he didn’t mind.

After a while, the boys had gathered around each other to decide what game they were going to play with their sibling. He kept an eye on them for a while but saw them staying close and inevitably closed his eyes, letting his guard down as he trusted them to stay close.

But that was his mistake as he ended up falling asleep.

Tommy noticed his dad falling asleep and took the chance to try and explore more of the forest, “Tommy!” Wilbur yelled, following his younger sibling deeper into the woods, worrying he’d get hurt. Techno following behind.

They got a fair distance from Phil as they ran into trouble. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?”. There they were, another giant naga. They’ve never seen one besides their dad and well, they looked a lot more threatening than their dad.

“Looks like I’ve got a free snack~”. He sang. The boys tried to run but they were picked up and squeezed by the giant naga. They were going to be eaten since they ran away from their dad.

Techno tried to move and swing his sword at the naga, but his arms were pinned against him. Stopping any movements. Wilbur tried to reach out to his younger brother who was sobbing.

Despite the lack of air reaching Wilbur’s lungs, he screamed at the top of his lungs. “DAD!”.

Phil’s ears twitched as he picked up the yell, it took a second to process, but he realised it was his son. He snapped upwards immediately, scanning for them and when he didn’t see them insight. His mind went to panic.

He slithered as fast as he could to where the direction of the scream came from and soon heard more screams and cries from his kids, he soon found this naga.

His eyes dilated as his finger’s twitched, his body standing in a position to appear bigger and more threatening to the other naga and hissed loudly. The other naga looked over to Phil with an unsatisfied hiss.

“You’re their father? Why not take them as a free snack?”. They then pinched the back of Tommy’s shirt and held him above his mouth in a threatening manner, displaying his fangs. Tommy screamed out for his father and Phil wanted no more than to hold the boy close and comfort him.

He hissed even louder that time, hoping to scare the other naga but they showed no signs of wanting to remotely stop. And that pissed Phil the fuck off. “Let them go.”. he spoke triumphantly.

But the naga smiled and turned to Phil. Phil’s eyes widened as he realised what was about to happen and driven by instinct, charged at the other naga.

As Phil pounced, Tommy was dropped but thankfully not into the other naga’s mouth but he managed to catch him by his own mouth. He immediately swallowed to send his son to safety.

He wanted to stop as he heard Tommy crying and begging, scared beyond belief but this wasn’t over he still had his other sons to protect. But he promised to himself as soon as this was over, he’d give these boys whatever they wanted to cheer up.

He coiled around the other naga, stopping some of their movements as they struggled to move Wilbur towards their mouth, he beat them to it but grabbing Wilbur himself and dropping him into his mouth and swallowing.

He could feel Wilbur’s cries in his stomach and felt him try to comfort Tommy as much as he could.

He met Techno’s eyes who looked at him horrified, tears in his eyes as he witnessed his father literally eat his siblings.

That just motivated him more to take care of this naga, but he somehow managed to take Phil under him in a swift movement. Restraining Phil.

He saw Techno struggle in the naga’s hand. He used whatever strength he could to make the naga struggle to move from his own coils and moved to grab Techno, he quickly shoved the boy into his mouth and swallowed and then, the two fought.

It took time but eventually, Phil managed to get the other naga to back off. He sighed in relief but that was immediately washed away as he heard his son’s cries, mainly Tommy’s.

“Boys, are you all alright?”. He asked them as he put a hand to his stomach, rubbing it soothingly in circles in hopes of comforting them. “D-Dad?!”, Wilbur yelled out, whose voice shook.

“I’m here boys. What’s wrong?”. He could hear Tommy’s cries grow louder, Wilbur tried to shush his younger sibling, in hopes of calming him but it only seemed to make things worse.

Phil turned his attention to his youngest. “Tommy mate, I’m here. You’re okay.”. He focused his rubs on where he felt the weight of the two. He felt Tommy lean into the touch as he cried.

His sobs quieted slightly, enough that Wilbur was able to calm him. That’s when Techno spoke up, “D-dad”, it was rare that his son’s voice shook, but it was so clear in his voice that Phil could tell his son was scared.

“What’s wrong Techno?”, he asked and rubbed where he felt him. Techno sobbed, “Y-you ate us!”. “Shh, mate it’s okay. You trust me, don’t you? You’re safe I promise.”. “B-but!”. “Hey, hey. You’re safe in there, how do I put this into words? Uhm-“.

They remained silent for a moment as Phil thought of a way to put it. “Basically, my tummy won’t hurt you. I can make it safe for all of you. It’s a little place to keep all of you safe”. He worded it in a way all of them could understand and process.

“S-so we’re gonna be, okay?”. Wilbur asked, “Of course”. He rubbed more circles as he felt the boys lean into the touch more. “How about you boys get some rest now alright? You’ve had a rough day.”.

He then felt the boys tuck in and he sighed in relief, he then made his way back to the den and slept with the boys safe in his stomach.

He remembered that Kristin would be returning the next day, so he would have a lot of explaining to do with what happened but he knew his love would understand, after all, they had done it many times in the past.

He was glad the boys were okay, especially after that experience. He was going to have to make sure he kept a better eye out from now on.

[thedeviljudges]

yohan + physical tough + trauma response

disclaimer: this is based off of eps 1-7, and preview of ep 8; i wholeheartedly recognize that this post may become the worst meta ever depending on how the rest of the show goes. however, i do think there are still some interesting things to note about yohan. a lot of this is also me just talking shit out as i was sifting through all the eps again. i’m more than willing to change my mind or hear other thoughts.

also i kinda, sorta, unnecessarily included all of the moments of yohan and any physicality. a lot of them are not super important, but i do think they help draw a distinction in how he reactions when surprised, alone and around other people.

so, here’s a long ass post that is literally 99% me bullshitting, lmao.

so i wanted to delve more into yohan’s response to physical touch by way of trauma. while i know a lot of us have pieced it together, i think it’s pretty cool to lay it all out visually because i think there’s much more justification for his reactions; not to say it makes it right, but it does really flesh out a fundamental part of his characterization that i think is highly, highly important to understand.

yohan lives on the cusp for reckless behavior, almost as if he doesn’t care whether he lives or dies. the car chase, running through industrial buildings where safety isn’t a concern, etc.

episode one

the first time we see an instance of his disinterest in physical touch is when he first meets gaon. he actually offers him his hand, but the way he goes about it isn’t a handshake. he almost looks hesitant, and then he squeezes and does not shake. it’s truly a split second gesture out of formalities. granted, he’s just met someone he thinks looks like isaac, and might be in a little bit of… not shock, but certainly distracted.

later in the episode, yohan is in an abandoned building with homeless people. he’s checking people’s wrist, but he’s quick about leaving them alone. until, a homeless man comes up behind him and grabs him. in response, yohan swings his arm to knock him off. then, he punches him, steps on him and decides whether he’s worth the effort. again, granted, no one likes to be surprised in a creepy situation like this, so his response? kinda understandable at this point.

next is the scene where yohan catches gaon in his office, where he pushes him against the bookshelf and kinda, more or less, comes off as a bit luring. we know yohan knows gaon’s lying, but a couple of things here. yohan initiated the physical contact, and he did it because of the suspicious nature of gaon. yohan also knows how to use his power and charms to catch people off guard, and i think really, he was messing with gaon when he brushed his shirt and asked him if he lived alone. gay as fuck, lmao, but i also see it as an intimidation tactic, in a way.

i could also pose a couple of theories aside from intimidation if we wanted to squint:

yohan is still in a state of awe of gaon’s resemblance to isaac. he’s not heard his voice or been around the other man for at least 10 years, and now there’s tangibility at his fingertips.

if we want to look at it from the gay perspective, gaon is clearly intriguing to yohan, and as i’ll note further down in this post about yohan in relation to physical touch, i’m sure it could be assumed that this is one of the first people in a long time that yohan has an interest in making a connection with. however, because of his upbringing, it’s clear he does’t necessarily know how to connect with people (ie. ep 7 trying to connect with elijah, eps 1-6 with him trying to non-verbally tell gaon that he has bigger plans than what’s in front of his face. his admission in ep 5 about being monster). more or less, he knows his charms can be used, but when it comes to actually flirting and/or liking someone? it’s left to be addressed, but could be assumed he’s just as awkward about it as when we see him at home.

we also see a small instance of him letting someone dress him. there’s still touch involved, but it’s very clear what the intention is. he has control over the situation, and it’s not a surprise.

the next time he engages in physical touche, again, he initiates it because he’s in control, and it’s meant to be comforting, to an extent.

and then to round everything off, we actually see him reaching for isaac, who is actually gaon in the court scene, but you know storytelling and all that. he reaches for him both in the courtroom and within a flashback.

him reaching out for isaac seems to be a motif within the show as it happens later on, of which i’ll point out.

episode two

we see him initiate a handshake again. at first, to gaon, and then with jinjoo. controlled situation.

later on in the episode is when we see our first glimpses of batshit crazy yohan, an absolute delight and fav, lmao. he actually reaches out to the spoiled kid, and it’s clearly to legitimize intimidation and a position of power.

okay look, i’m not even gonna front, this was a cute scene. when jinjoo gets out of the car, he checks to make sure she’s okay, and they have this moment before they go onto the red carpet where they smile at each other. yohan is confirming she’s okay, and she agrees. again, controlled, and i don’t know for certain if yohan is more comfortable around women, or it’s just mere fact that he doesn’t always have a problem with touch when the situation is safe. he actually lets her take his arm further on in the scene, and yes, it is a public display of niceties, and he knows that.

so in the midst of this happening, we get the ‘devil child’ story. and i want to make note of the bird scene because i do think it’s important to note that people yohan cares for, he’s willing to go to the ends of the earth to protect them. yes, they’re children in school, but the girl next to him is the only one who showed him an ounce of kindness, and yohan is proven to remain loyal to those he loves or trusts in some capacity.

of course, he ends up pitting the rich and the poor kids against one another for their betrayal and making him an outcast. in yohan’s mind, what he did wasn’t necessarily wrong because his sense of justice is based on protection and when people wrong him or those he loves, it’s seeking justice on their behalf or making the situation better - not in the technically right way, but right to him. yohan comes across as a fixer and problem solver.

yohan has a very, very strong sense of trust and loyalty, and we can assume that stems from isaac, who clearly tried to protect yohan from his father, who went out of his way to do so as best as he could as a young kid. yohan values loyalty not because he necessarily wants lap dogs and people to do his bidding. it comes from a place of love and security he’s never really had.

anyway, back to the gala with jinjoo, he does shake the minister’s hand. again, controlled. there are cameras. he also puts his arm around her, and that’s mainly because it’s a battle of the wills, and she’s trying to reprimand him, lol, as if she could. he hugs her a little hard and a little enthusiastically, and you can clearly tell it’s for show.

and then he dances with both jinjoo and sunah. and there is a stark difference between these two scenes. yohan actually teaches jinjoo the proper placement for where she should rest her hands and how to move. he’s actually having a good time with her, and again, it’s actually really cute.

with sunah, he’s reluctant and definitely on guard. he can tell from her demeanor that her intent is with purpose trying to get close to him. at this point in the story, he probably sees it as sunah coming onto him and not because she’s actually the maid from when they were children. when sunah reaches up to whisper in his ear, you can really tell he doesn’t like her being that close to him at all especially because her words may not be overly threatening, but there is purpose behind them, which means yohan’s guards are up. he physically removes her hand and than blatantly turns her down: she tells him that enjoying things alone isn’t fun, and he counters it by saying he’s having a lot of fun.

so at this point to reduce on some screen caps, he meets the minister’s family, has handshakes with her husband and the kid he went after to essentially beat up his car with a mallet, lmao. the handshake is quite funny because they both know what happened. yohan is in control, and that kid is shaking in his boots.

then the explosion happens, and of course, it makes sense that yohan helps gaon after he’s hurt. gaon has never been a threat to yohan, and it’s clear yohan’s not heartless whatsoever, but it’s also poignant to note that gaon helped saved yohan’s life, thus starting yohan’s journey of loyalty to gaon. i think he’s always had his sight set on gaon to begin with, possibly long before he even became an associate judge, but if this was a test, gaon passed it with flying colors because if gaon can rescue a little girl, and he can help an old man who fell off his bike, would he really go the lengths to save yohan who has shown him time and time again his sense of justice is different?

episode three

yohan reacts negatively to soohyun and within good reason when she questions where gaon is. he turns away because for him, the conversation is over, but for her, it’s not. to get his attention, she grabs him when he’s not paying attention, and of course he has a very adverse reaction. at this point, it can be chalked up to disrespect given the fact that he’s a head judge and she’s just a mere cop, but hindsight is 20/20. he does throw her arm off by flicking out his arm. but instead of berating her, he just tells her to catch the culprits who harmed gaon and leaves it at that.

and then of course, everyone’s favorite scene and rightfully so. yohan caring for gaon? very sexy of him. gaon is injured, poses no threat, and as i said above about yohan finding some amount of loyalty in gaon means his physical boundaries aren’t jeopardized. and for that, we get these wonderful scenes of yohan helping gaon as he heals.

and then scenes of him messing around with gaon by hitting him. truth be told, i wonder if this was something him and isaac did as young kids. anyone with siblings know how that goes. fake picking on each other? fake bickering? yeah.

and then it slowly, but surely, it’s revealed that yohan didn’t have the same upbringing as isaac did. our first instance that something at home wasn’t right wasn’t just the conversation with ms. ji and gaon. it’s the flashback with yohan reading in his room when the door opens. he hastily pretends he’s asleep, and you can see he’s visibly shaking and breathing roughly until he realizes it’s isaac who’s there to give him books.

and that’s also when we get our first glance of what kind of abuse yohan suffered from at the hands of his father. it’s clear this isn’t the only incident, and there’s been many times that isaac wasn’t around to help defend him.

it’s also very clear in how yohan acts when he’s terrified and that his abuse has gone on long enough to be a routine pattern in the house. any time he hears heavy footsteps or thinks his father is around, he visibly shakes and gets panicky.

episode four

i include this scene because it’s been noted that a lot of books yohan reads are about humans, human nature, animals, animalistic tendencies, and he says random shit like this that directly points to what he thinks about humanity and humans themselves. we notice this most prominently at the dinner with gaon and jinjoo earlier on when he describes that he likes the feel of the chew and that he cannot taste. he always mentions hunting and prey, and i think this is one of those very clear instances where he actually reveals to gaon what he truly, truly thinks; no gimmicks. this also comes into play later on in ep 6 when elijah is worried about him being out all night. yohan clearly doesn’t trust people at all. he understands their intentions, their motives and how much pain they can cause other people for their own profit and their own gain. it makes sense that he wouldn’t leave his house, especially if he has a strong sense of loyalty to isaac (even after all these years) and caring for elijah.

this is also one of the very direct moments that yohan doesn’t understand family dynamics. when it comes to people, it’s a giant chess game. not only that, later on in the episode when they’re in the car and yohan talks about how people, no matter what, are always the same in front of greed, yohan is cynical, and he expects the bad every single time.

what he reads and the way he words things (here and the discussion of him being a monster, for example) is clearly an indication that he doesn’t trust; that he cannot trust, nor does he want to at this point. yohan doesn’t understand the concept of kindness being given freely (ep 7 when he berates elijah for being used by gaon, telling her she falls for kindness every time). and yet, later on in eps, it’s clear when he’s around the right people and the right mindset (uh, gaon?? lol), he’s constantly putting up a front.

after all in ep 7 when he tells gaon that confidence is key, it literally gives him away not just in the courtroom but in his personal life. there’s a reason he looks softer at home than when he’s not there (the hairstyle changes and clothing).

basically what i’m getting at is this behavior can be seen as a defense mechanism because of his abuse.

then it’s another gala event with gaon and yohan this time. another lovely favorite where yohan helps him get dressed and then proceeds to drag him around and safe him from the lion’s den.

tbh i dont even need to include these, but i’m doing it for the indulgence.

yohan does sorta physically throw gaon as well during the rich people party, but that’s mainly to get him to shut up because he’s trying to show gaon the truth at hand and how all of it’s pretty much a farce.

later on in the episode is when we first have gaon truly attacking yohan verbally, and that’s when yohan snaps. it’s clear that isaac is a trigger for yohan, especially from someone who speaks out of line on something they know nothing about. gaon, truth be told, had a stupid moment confronting yohan the way he did. i don’t know who waltzes up to a proposed murderer and just asks them, lmao.

but here’s the thing, thus far, gaon has not entirely posed a threat to yohan. whether that’s from yohan planting gaon and guiding him exactly where he wants him or gaon just not being as thorough as yohan would like, and he’s trying to tap into that talent, is anyone’s guess. but as i said above, the one thing yohan protects is the things he does care about the most, and he tries to talk himself out of his own feelings. he constantly compares himself to an animal (again, dinner scene with gaon and jinjoo) to justify his actions, and to possibly not feel anything; because that’s easier, isn’t it? not feeling. so on top of gaon calling him a monster and a killer, confronted with the possibility about being a villain in his own brother’s story, obviously sets him off. he beats down his emotions until he’s confronted with it - and this is what gaon also meant in ep 6 about how it’s ridiculous that yohan calls himself a monster over a victim because yohan can’t even see himself in that light. not because he truly believes victims are weak necessarily, but i wonder how much he realizes that what happened to him wasn’t his fault.

to me, and as i just said, yohan convinces himself he’s a monster to make it easier for himself to belief his actions (ep 5 telling gaon some humans are born monsters in relation to himself). it’s not that he inherently thinks he’s wrong, but i think his guidance for what’s right and wrong was misconstrued without a parent figure in his life, especially if he’d read crime and law books as the focus. yohan’s actions, at least quite a bit of them are, are based on a gut feeling of right and wrong. when you think about it and your own sense of justice, how would that differ without the checks and balances in place? what punishment do you think fits the crime if we weren’t bound by written law? yohan thinks any action to protect those he loves is, more or less, justifiable because it’s a means to an end. it’s making a worng right again.

i don’t think yohan is a monster. i think his feelings, and what he knows is love, is misconstrued in terms of how to express it. we see this in episode 7 with his and elijah’s conversation where she’s just trying to be a teen, but his version of love is protecting her without, once again, understanding family dynamics and the pain points of growing up, the learning she has to do on her own. yohan might technically be right; similar to being book-smart but not necessarily street smart. his theory of telling Elijah that she’s soft for kindness and being used was true, but his delivery and the idea that that’s how humans develop doesn’t work. he’s telling her text-book rules, but people don’t live through books. they live through real life. yohan reads to get a sense of fulfillment and to learn. he’s learned his way into adulthood, but that’s not normal.

so uh anyway, back to this familiar scene:

because we don’t know the actual story of isaac’s death, it’s hard to say what role yohan played in his death, but i don’t know that i believe he was the one who did it. the entirety of the devil judge is relying on unreliable narration, so it’s difficult to gauge (for now since we’re on ep 7) how this will turn out and what happened, but to me, it really comes across as yohan upset over the insinuation that he could be the one to cause the death of the one person he loved the most. plus, i think it says a lot that he cares/loves elijah, and she was part of isaac. gaon crossed a thine line. yohan essentially welcomed him in, and this is gaon toeing it. we can also look at this is not gaon being an outsider to their family, but now has become part of the family, and so it’s easier for yohan to be ‘abusive,’ if you will, rather than the perspective of gaon still on the sidelines and pushing too far. by this i mean, the accusations made by gaon threatens their formulating family dynamics.

and once again, the only person he ever actually reaches out for is isaac.

and then we have the aftermath of yohan’s nightmare, where he’s still caught in the dream as gaon comes in, and refuses to be touched after, even if gaon’s intention is to see if he’s okay. yohan makes it very clear to gaon not to touch him, and that’s when elijah comes in with a very accusatory ‘what are you two doing?’ in this moment, yohan is not just vulnerable, but he’s emotionally sensitive. i’ve no doubt he’s still dealing with a form of sensory overload from his dream.

and then, i don’t know that this was necessary? was it necessary?

the following set of scenes are the ones where gaon tells him he’s a victim and he hasn’t confronted his own emotions about his abuse. i think yohan realizes gaon is right to some degree, but it is convoluted, and it’s not so simple to face your own traumas. however, he does for a moment after gaon leaves, remember another instance of abuse he couldn’t stop but wishes he could, wishing a parental figure of sorts would’ve come in to save him like his older self is trying to save the kid version if only he could turn back time, if only he had the power to do what he wish someone else had done for him.

and then the kidnapping scene is just. fucked up in and of itself. it actually makes my skin crawl. not because sunah is scary necessarily, but the lack of autonomy yohan has - especially when we find out later more of sunah’s story. to do something like this after what she’s suffered through makes this scene even more disturbing.

you can see the moment yohan hears heels when sunah (not knowing it’s her yet) comes in. literally the minute he knows someone’s headed his way, he checks the fuck out. his whole face goes slack, especially when sunah reveals herself. and when she’s kissing him? blank as fuck, too. it’s the most dead-eyed stare i think we’ve seen from him.

episode six

so, we get this gem from elijah that i’d like to touch on later. it’s more speculation and just me running through ideas more than it is canon fact. but what it does let us know is that yohan doesn’t seek people out. he prefers to be at home and staying there.

after we get the maid story, and we do get yohan touching sunah’s cheek, and in some fucked up twisted way, this is his way of protecting one of the things isaac cherishes the most. the point of the gesture isn’t just intimidation but serves as an act of intent, of protection in the only way yohan knows how. he’s safeguarding isaac. you can tell he doesn’t actually like sunah at all as a kid, but uses that to his advantage. imagine yohan learning violence for ‘good’ things when his father used violence for ‘bad’ things. what a twisted way of looking at it? and the irony at hand.

additionally, the main reason i’ve included so many varying scenes of yohan touching people isn’t to establish that he’s okay with being touched given how many scenes there are of him randomly shaking people’s hand or touching them. it’s all about context and what the intent is for. most often than not, really way more often than not, yohan only reaches out for people when it’s socially acceptable to do so and because it’s manners. and yet, even in some of those cases, there is still intent behind the gesture.

the moments he acts out the most are when he’s not in front of an audience, when he’s more likely to be alone with his thoughts and is exceptionally more vulnerable to his own triggers.

and i think the scene after he’s back at his house from the kidnapping is noteworthy because it doesn’t just feel like he’s shaking off the effects of the drugs he was given. he seems to visibly trying to compose himself of the mental and physical play he just had to deal with.

the next scene is yohan angry with gaon for taking elijah out. which really, he does have every right to be angry, and one thing i didn’t note above during the ‘you killed your brother’ choke out scene before is that when yohan is backed into any kind of corner, he reacts like a caged animal.

because we’ve already established the scenes with his abuse, his father took his anger physically out on yohan. so how else was yohan supposed have developed the tools to express it? it’s easy to hurt the things you love the most; it’s easy to abuse the ones you know, and between gaon and himself, they both have an unhealthy dynamic because gaon is old enough, strong enough to take whatever yohan gives him. gaon is not family and so there’s still that clear divide and a distinction as to why he lays a hand on gaon but not elijah, for example. gaon can still pose a threat. elijah is family. then again, it can also be said that maybe yohan considers gaon family, and gaon betrayed elijah and therefore yohan, and you don’t do that. not with yohan’s understanding of family dynamics.

but with that said, it begs the question why yohan keeps gaon around, and i think some of that has to do with the fact that gaon surprises yohan. he might’ve set his sights on him long before he became an associate judge or maybe he took interest after gaon was chosen for the role (this is still up in the air), but deep down, yohan sees something in gaon despite his snooping, despite his righteousness. it could be the potential; it could be the fact that gaon could be better than yohan if he just allowed himself to loosen the ropes he’s tied himself with when it comes to the court of law and the justice system.

but here’s the thing that idk a lot of people have really picked up on. gaon is one side of the same coin underneath it all. he’s also provoked yohan with physicality when yohan brought up details about soohyun.

to be fair, we can say that yohan evokes a different type of anger in gaon, one that he hasn’t tapped into for years that allows him to open up to that more physical side of himself he learned to put behind him. gaon doesn’t really come across as the physically threatening type, but yohan does push his buttons and vice versa.

but then, of course, we have the big fight scene where gaon goes in on the attack, and that’s when yohan makes his threat not to attack him ever again. it’d be easy to say he says it based on the merit of him not actually attacking soohyun, but seriously speaking, the intent feels much more than that. more along the lines of asking gaon not to provoke him without warning again because next time might be bad. most of their other fights, especially the one above,have been in the midst of conversation. this time, it’s from a place of complete surprise, and you can tell yohan goes on the defensive when his first instinct is to not just throw gaon back but raise his fist to strike.

episode seven

the only physical contact yohan has with anyone is the president, and that’s when he turns on the live video of the two of them, and it’s clearly intended to be a lowkey threat. he keeps pulling the president back into his side to be on the live camera after the dude tried to come after yohan. i do think it’s hilarious that yohan manipulated the situation with a live component just as the president and the rest of the rich people thought they could turn a live court show into manipulating the public.

and then, of course, the jail scene. the part where he makes gaon stay. he also touches gaon’s shoulder later just before they leave.

episode eight

the most prominent scene in this ep is certainly the scene where sunah comes onto yohan, and you can tell she did it to get under his skin in some way. of course, he’s smart and knows she’s up to something, but i think it’s so interesting how he wraps his fists around hers, almost as if to tame her and prevent her from trying to further put her hands on him.

we also know yohan has no issue with using physical force regardless of who it is (obviously, his dialogue in this scene, too) when he feels caged or trapped. his intention is also to retrieve isaac’s necklace, and i like how he uses literally anything to his advantage. meaning, he’ll use physical touch, his mentality, etc to get what he wants or needs, even if it is marginally uncomfortable to some degree.

and i think that also says alot about him is that he’s able to displace what makes him uncomfortable in moments like this to achieve an end goal.

additional thoughts

i know this isn’t really common with a lot of the characters in general, and could be chalked up to a cultural component, but yohan’s definitely not a hugger.

the other thing i wanted to note is yohan’s seemingly adherence to touch unless it’s for good reason in relation to sex. the main reason i bring it up is because i’ve seen it discussed a bit, especially in regard to elijah’s comment about him not staying out overnight since the fire. there are a few plausible scenarios, maybe more, but for the sake of this, we’ll go for these.

yohan has had past relationships/experience or will in future episodes

day flings

he’s never had an interest in anyone before given his upbringing and abuse and therefore never sought out sex

inexperience could be from lack of interest in other people and sex itself

he’s never found anyone to really connect with and trust in such a way and has avoided it for that reason

and i bring this up mainly because i think it could be something to explore in fanon, but also because i’m kind of annoyed with how people have been talking about yohan being a virgin. i’m not quite sure what the joke is, but lack of sexual experience does not mean naive or that he doesn’t have a sense of humor when that’s clearly far from the truth:

i don’t know that people find it unbelievable because of his age, because of characterization of yohan being more dominant, but none of these things negate this being an option. i think it’s perfectly plausible of a situation (from what we know right now), and truthfully, it would make a whole lot of sense. i just don’t get the jokes about it that i’ve been seeing online (twitter) when there isn’t a mutual exclusiveness to any of it whatsoever.

yohan already has a hard time connecting with people, and i can imagine that level of physicality could be difficult. clearly he knows how to use a version of it to get what he wants. i’ve no doubt he’s used his charms in situations where he’s needed to. yohan knows he has that going for him, at the very least. but sexual appeal and jokes doesn’t mean having a body count any more than it could indicate there being one.

lastly, i also want to pull these paragraphs from @b612sunsets​‘s post because i think they do a much better job than i ever could of explaining, short and sweet, a fundamental part of yohan’s characterization, and mainly what i was trying to get at with this long ass post.

“There's two things we already know about Yohan from the last 6 episodes: he hates being touched when he doesn't see it coming and doesn't have control over it because of the abuse he suffered (I assume). To name a few: Soohyun grabbing his elbow to stop him from leaving and get answers about Gaon, the beggar that touched him while he searched for the fireman, Gaon after punching him and Yohan clearly telling him to NEVER do it again. The impression it gave to us is that if there's a next time he might not be able to stop his instinctive reaction of defending himself and using violence back (something worse than choking or pushing Gaon and he doesn't want to do that with him).

“Unless it's a friendly/small/slow touch like in the breakfast scene when Gaon touches his arm when he gets up to offer them some fruits. When he had the nightmare with Isaac, his walls were up high so even if he could see Gaon's touch coming and it was friendly, he decided to stop it because he was too defensive and sensible to accept the gesture (it would be the first time Gaon started physical contact with him too, he wouldn't be ready for that in such a state).

“The second thing is that Yohan hates when people take what is his or mess with what is important to him. Again, to name a few: Sunah with the necklace when she was a maid, the fireman with Isaac's watch (Yohan made them fall from high places, not caring if they died or not), the guy that fabricated the small bombs that hurt Gaon (Yohan would have burnt his face if "K" hadn't stopped him) and Gaon taking Elijah out of the house to Soohyun without previous notice (a cop and someone he doesn't trust).”

yohan has a very, very large sense of self-preservation for himself and for those he cares about. it’s in his intention, actions, facial expressions, movements, the way he interacts with people. i find it fascinating how calculating he can be, but at home, he’s at his most vulnerable and almost socially unaware and awkward.

yohan is a bit of an irony. he understands people from an action-oriented, instinctual level, but he doesn’t necessarily understand their thoughts and emotions in the waves of nuances that people live through on the daily. like, he gets it to an extent and on a practical level, but he himself is a square trying to fit into a circle - he doesn’t always understand it for himself and has to actively work on social cues so as not to come across as the devil child he was once painted to be.

and let it not be unsaid, yohan really will go to the ends of the earth for family, even if it means stepping out of his comfort zone.

and so anyway, i doubt this offered any real insight, but i think this is my way of breaking all of this down for myself. so, tada!!! lmao

[violets-page]

Shot Down |R.R.|

MASTERLIST

A/N: This was my first request and I was so excited! Hope you enjoy <3

The 100, Raven x fem reader? If your kay with it maybe where reader and Raven are in a relationship and had an argument but then the Murphy situation happens in the dropship so the reader helps raven out and when shots happen the reader protects Raven?

You loved Raven, truly. In fact, you loved her more than you thought your heart was capable of. But you couldn’t help but feel like she wasn’t really over Finn. You saw the way she looked at him when he and Clarke were together. You saw the pain of losing your first love and the crushing weight of having to watch him happy without her. No matter how many times she smiled and told you she was ‘so over him’ , you couldn't help but notice how her gaze always lingered on him for a second longer.

When Raven crashed to earth only to have her heartbroken you were there to comfort her. Brought together by her tech-savvy ways and your creative ideas the two of you spent countless days together, thinking up and prototyping weapons. And when night time crept up, throwing darkness onto all those below her, She’d creeped into your bed shuffling blankets to make room on your lap for her head. You’d play with her hair and hum her to sleep as she cried on your lap over a boy who didn’t deserve her.

As you two had grown close an unspoken thing rose between you.

Little kisses through the day, always over before you could move towards her. Cuddling into her bed at night, warm bodies pressed against each other as you fell asleep to the lullaby of her beating heart. Makeout sessions in the forest when no one was around but the trees and birds and all of earth's problems melted away when her hands were in your hair and her lips planted on yours.

Raven hadn’t been one much for public PDA and for a while you thought that was just how she was. It never really bothered you, so what if she didn't feel like sharing your intimate moments in front of a group of immature strangers.

That was until Finn approached you and asked if you knew what boy she was seeing.

*    *   *   *   *   *   *   *

You rolled your eyes as Finn sauntered toward you.

“Hey.” his voice sounded exhausted. Much like everyone's did nowadays.

His hands were shoved in his pockets and he glanced around as if searching for someone. With all that you knew about Finn, you had never actually spoken to him. In fact, you actively avoided him. Desperate not to give off the impression that you were willing to talk to him you let out a hum of acknowledgment.

“I'm worried about Raven.”

Your eyes shot up to meet him. He had no right to worry about her, anything worry-worthy had been his fault. You bit back all the lectures and insults you'd thought you'd say to him someday, the ones you thought up while wiping tears with your shirt sleeve.

“Why.”

“I heard her talking to Octavia the other day about a guy she was seeing. I don’t think she knew I was there but..” he sighed, his hand going in towards his greasy hair as you tried not to grimace at its look.

“None of the guys here are good for her.”

Yeah, none of the guys.

You shoot him a frown and bit back your laugh. “No, but if she was seeing someone how would I be able to tell?”

“Well, when we were together she was always very affectionate. Holding hands in public and kisses all the time. She’s really big on PDA. Ya know?”

You didn't know.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

You held in your emotions for a few days, desperately trying not to let his ridiculous words get to you. But you couldn't help it as you drifted away from Raven. Every time you were together your mind drifted to her and Finn on the ark, holding hands and kissing in the halls where anyone could see. Your mind soaked up awful thoughts until you felt your heart might just explode.

This led to you storming into her tent in a fit of anger. You waved your hands furiously through the air as you told her about the conversation you'd had with Finn.

“I know you're not over Finn, and I know you're just using me to get over him but you don't want him to know about it in case he wants you back. I won't be your safety guard to fall back on until you're ready to get up and walk away!”

“What? That’s not what’s going on at all.”

“Oh yeah, cause it sure as hell seems like every time we’re out you want nothing to do with me. You won't even hold my hand outside this tent much less kiss me.”

“Y/n listen to me!”

“No, I’m so sick of this shit”

You loved her but you weren’t going to sit and watch her fawn over her asshole ex.

When the yelling had gotten too much for you to handle you stormed out of the tent, sweat running down your back from the hot weather and your bubbling anger. You hate how it felt and how it reminded you of stupid Finn and his stupid greasy hair. You remembered a stream you had seen on one of your forest explorations with Raven.

Raven. Raven. Raven.

You hated how even when you were mad and anger flowed through your veins, you couldn’t escape the thoughts of her. You needed to get out.

The stream was probably a 20-minute walk from camp. You knew the woods weren’t safe but you couldn’t stand being cooped up in camp for a second longer. You took one of Ravens’ guns with you, just in case.

When you reached the steam you glanced around before stripping. The woods were hauntingly beautiful, but every time you looked at them all you could see was Raven. Her back pressed against the trees as her fingers weaved knots in your hair. Your fingers slipping under her shirt exploring the curves of her hips. Her lips against yours, silent gasps for air interrupting the rustling of leaves.

You wadded into the water as if it could wash the thoughts from your mind. The water was like ice and only reached enough to go a little over your knees. The light breeze made goosebumps peak from your skin as the water suddenly seemed much warmer. You squatted down, the algae rocks tickling your toes. Splashing your face with the cool water, you scrubbed it, thankful to get rid of the sticky sweat that had built up over the weeks you’d been on earth. You took a deep breath and tried to relax your muscles.

As you sat in the water you thought about everything that’s been going on. More specifically everything going on with Raven. You hadn’t even let Raven explain herself before you stormed out. Your quick temper was always your biggest problem. Hell, it's how you ended up down here in the first palace. Guilt was a sickly feeling, it nestled into your stomach and made you feel like a monster.

Suddenly the woods felt too empty, The river too dirty and everything too loud. You felt loneliness fill your heart, its claws creeping their way up as you choked back sobs. As Raven's face once again visited your memory you decided it was best to get back and apologize before the sun disappeared and sleep took your lover.

As you got closer to camp you took note of the eerie silence, a major contrast from the usual laughs and shouts that filled the camp. Walking in you saw why. Everyone was crowded around the dropship. Most people looked indifferent or only had slight concern etched across their faces. That was until you came across Octavia standing at the front.

She looked as if she would just about pass out. Fear covered her whole face as she tapped her foot impatiently. A walkie-talkie clenched tightly in her hand as her teeth pulled tightly against her bleeding lip.

“What’s going on”

Without her eyes ever leaving the doors of the drop ship she answered you.

“Murphys got Bellamy trapped inside. I- I think he’s going to kill him. Jaspers under the ship trying to get him out.”

You surveyed the crowds trying to find Raven but nowhere was the girl donning the red puffer jacket anywhere to be seen.

“Where's Raven?”

Octavia’s eyes flickered to you for only a moment before returning to the dropship. But with that one look, you knew she didn’t want to tell you.

“Octavia, where is she.” You moved in front of her, blocking her view of the dropship. Annoyance flashed across her features but it quickly vanished.

She sighed “She's under there helping Jasper but-”

That was all you needed to hear before you turned around and headed toward the dropship. Before you could make it two steps Octavia had grabbed your arm and pulled you back. You considered pulling your arm out of hers or even pushing her down so she would let you go. But the girl had a grip like iron and an attitude to match.

“She’s got this. By going in there you could mess up everything. Just trust her. Okay?”

You nodded and stayed put. But her words did nothing to ease the fear that washed over you like a tsunami, drowning you.

A gunshot rang through the air and Octavia’s grip on your arm tightened. One part in an effort to reassure herself and another part to keep you put.

You weren’t super religious but at that moment you begged whoever -if anyone- above to make sure Raven came out of this alive and unharmed.

Minutes seemed like hours until finally a familiar mop of brown hair appeared from beneath the dropship. You felt every muscle in your body relax and the headache that you hadn't even noticed disband.

You shrugged out of Octavia’s grasp and ran to Jasper quickly engulfing him in a hug. His arms hung limp at his sides and you could see his anxiety written across his face. But at least they were okay.

“Oh thank god”

You peered behind him, expecting to see Raven, but no one was there.

As if sensing your unspoken question he spoke,

“She’s still in the dropship. She-”

But you were already gone.

As you squirmed your way through the complicated working of the dropship you spotted the brunette. Your lungs filled with air and the knot in your chest eased. She was okay.

“Raven ..”

She jumped at your sudden appearance and something within the circuit she was working on sparked. She let out a slight scream as the sparks burnt the tips of her fingers.

You both looked up as the noises from above ceased

And then came the gunshots.

After the first one, you dived over her without a second thought, knocking you both to the ground. You heard her head hit the ground with a loud thunk as the air left her lungs. You covered her body with yours tucking your head into her neck as you covered her face with your hands. You breathed in her scent as bullets rained down on you. You could feel her heart's erratic beating against your chest. It felt like forever until they finally stopped.

When they did Raven wasted no time moving you off of her and getting back to the control panel, finishing what she started.

You however couldn’t move.  

Damn adrenaline.

You took a few deep breaths and calmed your heart as much as you possibly could. You tightened your muscles in an attempt to sit up, the same way you've sat up your entire life. Except for this time, your muscles wouldn’t tighten. It was as if they had stopped working entirely.

“Raven “ you called out to her. You were terrified, your heartbeat so loudly you could feel it in your eardrums. She was too focused on finishing the control panel to hear you. Finally, she got it, shooting you one of those proud smiles you always loved. It quickly dissolved when she saw the fear on your face as tears streamed down from your eyes.

“I can’t move. Oh god. Oh my god. “ Your tears turned to sobs as your body shook. She was by your side in a second as she quickly took to examining your body.

“I can’t find a wound.”

“Please, please, please Raven.” She had no idea what to do but couldn’t bear to watch you break to pieces in her arms.

Slowly she moved you so you were sitting up, and although it took a while she was able to get you up and onto her back.

A bang sounded from above and the whole room shook. Her hand slipped from its grip on your thigh but she quickly managed to catch it.

She held your legs as you wrapped your arms around her neck. Although your cries were no longer audible she felt you shake against her back as warm tears splashed her shoulder.

Before she even got into the camp she was yelling.

“WHERE'S CLARKE. SOMEBODY GET CLARKE.” the blonde rushed to her side, a sharp intake escaping when she saw you.

“She says she can’t move. Murphy shot her. I couldn’t find the wound but I don’t know.” She tried desperately not to cry.

Not now.  Raven thought.  Not when she's breaking.

She carried you into the dropship, laying you carefully down on the table. It took a while but Clarke finally made it in to help.

After sanitizing her hands with what was left of the alcohol she looked at Raven. They both knew this wasn’t going to be good.

“I need to get the bullet out. Can you distract her?”

Raven nodded and held your hand tighter. You could feel her warm palm against hers, the only thing keeping you from falling apart in a fit of hysterics. That was about the only thing you could feel. Everything below your chest was dead weight.

“Remember how you thought I wasn’t showing you public affection because I still had feelings for Finn?” Clarke risked a quick glance at the girls before resuming her work.

You felt her fingers enter the wound in your back and let out a scream.

“Is now really the best time to talk about this” you tried to say between screams and grunts. She nodded, a determined look on her face.

“That’s not why.”

“Okay..” you urged her to go on so you could focus on her voice instead of the fingers probing around underneath your skin.

“No one knows that I am ya know,” although she didn't make a show of it you knew Clarke was listening.

“And I guess I was just- am just, afraid of the way people might look at me.” the raw emotion on her face almost made you forget what was happening.  Almost.

You screamed again as Clarke’s fingers exited the wound.

“Got it. Now comes the painful part” You looked at her in horror.

She turned your head away so that you were once again looking at Raven. The brunette couldn't hide the horror that flashed across her face at whatever Clarke was doing behind you.

“Trust me, it’s best not to watch this part.”

Raven almost couldn’t handle the look of fear on your face. She wanted to wrap you up in her arms and keep you safe and away from this cruel world. She laced her finger between yours, light kisses against the back of your hand in an attempt to calm your pounding heart and shaky breaths.

Clarke handed her a cloth for you to bite on. It would stop you from breaking your own teeth is what she had said.

Raven squeezed your hand in reassurance and placed a gentle kiss on your head as you let out a ground trembling scream. She felt her heart fall to pieces at the sound. The world around you disappeared as you tried desperately to focus on Raven instead of the hot metal searing your flesh.

And then-

It was over.

You just lay there, studying Raven. Her lower lip was redder than the top one due to her gnawing on it anxiously. Her eyelashes were long and cast delicate shadows across her high cheekbones. Her jawline was sharp and unmoving. Skin pulled tight in a frown of worry. The whole thing had taken a toll on you. But you refused to let yourself fall asleep.

“Raven, I’m so sorry.”

She let out a sad laugh as tears started forming in her eyes

“Never do that again.”  She wanted to scream at you. She wanted to hit you and yell at you for being so stupid. For putting her life above yours and trying to be the hero. But she knew you wouldn’t be able to handle that. Not today at least.

Your eyelids were so heavy. You decided you would just close them, not sleep.

As your eyes fluttered closed Raven turned to Clarke.

Is she going to be okay?

“Yes, but…”

“But what”

“She suffered a slight spinal cord injury. I don’t know how bad it is. She might be able to walk again in six months or a year or possibly never.”

As you heard these words your mind drifted as the welcoming arms of sleep embraced you.

As longs as Raven is okay,

I can handle it.

Pt.2

[imaginethatneathuh]

Death: Mr World - American Gods

Mr World x gn!reader, ex and abusive relationship

You ran from Mr World and he wants you back.

Part of @dragon430’s Tarot Troop. Some parts were edited by her, too.

Requested by Anon - Hi! I just found the Tarot Card thing and I was wondering if you could do Death for Mr. World ...

TW/CW: Car accident, abuse, domestic abuse, fear, PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, dehydration, hunger.

Word count: 12.5+ K

This was very triggering, that's why it took so long for me.

•

Hands stuffed in pockets, you walked down the concrete sidewalk. Pulled up, the hood of your dark hoodie obscured you from view. It was only a small comfort knowing that it was more difficult for something like a camera to pick up on your face.

A street light flickered above you as you passed by.

Remembering the effects the New Gods could have on technology, you turned around, looking for one of those weird “boxes'' they used. But the street lights all stayed on and none of the boxes materialized.

Stopping for a few moments more, you looked around just in case someone was there and you just couldn’t see them. You mentally cursed the loud chirping of the crickets. Even if someone was there --- you weren’t sure if there was or wasn’t --- you wouldn’t be able to hear them over them.

Finally, with one last look, you turned back to your back and continued down it.

As you approached the small apartment complex, you searched for lights in the windows. Occasionally, a neighbour or two would stay up until the wee hours of the morn. Tonight though, everyone seemed to have gone to bed except for you.

Carefully, you climbed the stairs to your flat. The hair on the back of your neck raised as the cold breeze passed by.

As you got to your floor, you looked down and around. It wasn’t a quick one look-see and done kinda deal. You analyzed everything, half expecting someone to jump out or come around the corner. Everything from the flicker of the old wall lamp, to the shaking trees, and the swarming insects around light was scrutinized.

Despite the months of being away from him, he was always in the back of your mind. You knew, despite being miles away from where he had you last, he could find you and bring you back under his thumb. He was more powerful than you ever imagined. He had eyes and ears everywhere. Here, even with no security cameras and out in the middle of nowhere, you knew he could still get to you. The trees may be plentiful and the people few and far between, but he still had power

No one jumped out, so you went to the door with your heart pounding in your chest.

Still scanning the hall, you patted yourself down in search of your keys. You couldn’t tear your eyes away just in case someone unwelcomed showed up.

You fumbled for your keys, too fearful of the unknown to search for them properly. The thought of someone or something popping out of nowhere took all your attention, the fear forcing you to scan the hall again and again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw something in the shadows.

Whipping your head around to get a better look, your eyes widened as if they were trying to soak in as much of the area as possible. The possibility of your ex or his lackeys being right around the corner froze you in place. One of your hands gripped your keys while the other stayed tensed on the doorknob of your flat.

Quietly, you breathed and tried to calm yourself, but kept your eyes wide open. As you concentrate on your breathing, knuckles paling, your shaky, uneven breaths become even again.

It was just your imagination, your mind playing tricks on you. That was all. No one was there. No one at all. You were safe. He couldn’t get you here.

Eyes still glued to the shadows, you yank open the door and rush inside, slamming the door shut. Once inside, You pressed your body against the door, just in case someone tried to push it open, and deadbolted it as fast as you could manage without looking at the locks. The shadows did not move as you stared at them through the peephole on the door.

Stepping away, you take a few gasping breaths, shoulders and jaw tensed. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest.

Every time you left the flat there was a risk that your ex would find you. Any reasonable, sensible person who knew your ex would tell you leaving your flat was a stupid idea, that there was too much of a risk in leaving. But, you couldn’t stay inside all the time just because he terrified you. You had to live your life, not live in fear. There had been far too much of that.

You looked around the small flat and moved toward the windows, unlocking and relocking the windows.

Placing a hand over your heart, you breathed deeply in and out. You’d found it to be the best way to calm yourself over the past few months. Now, within the safety of your home, you could relax.

Turning, you found your way to the sofa and fell upon it.

The flat’s door stood opposite of you and you stared at it, expecting someone to start banging or barging in at any moment.

A backpack filled with your things lay next to the sofa. Not much was in it. Just some clothes, toothbrush and paste, and other such necessities. No unnecessary items.

The fridge sat mostly empty and the bedroom lay unbothered as if no one had entered it since the last tenant, and even the bathroom had little in it, just a bar of soap that hadn’t fully dried yet and its bag. The flat had barely been lived in. Hopefully, you’d soon have the courage to change that.

After many hours of paranoia, you fell into a restless, fitful, nightmare-fueled slumber. Even as you dreamt, he did not let you be.

•

A loud knocking woke you from a nightmare you couldn’t remember after you got up from the sofa.

At that moment, as you walked over to the door still dressed from the day before, things almost felt normal. It was as if the last 6 years hadn’t happened and you weren’t terrified and paranoid he’d find you.

Every last shred of that feeling dissipated after you looked into the peephole.

There, on the other side, stood two men in black and white suits. Both had an earpiece and sunglasses. They looked straight out of the Men in Black movie you remember watching when you were younger.

Your mother loved that movie. As did you.

Sadly, they were not the Men in Black from the movie. They were a different sort. The men who worked for your ex, Mr World.

Stepping away, you blinked as your heartbeat and fear steadily rose. Your breathing became shaky.

He’d found you.

“Mx L/N, we know you are in there,” one of the men said. “We just want to talk. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Instead of responding, you ran to your sofa and threw the backpack on.

Outside, the two men had a conversation.

Your flat was on the first floor. It would be a quick two-story drop.

Scrambling to the window opposite the kitchenette, you opened it as quietly as you could.

The men knocked again. “Mx L/N, please open the door.”

Remembering the bar of soap in the bathroom, you stepped inside and grabbed it. You slipped the bar into the bag and stuffed it into your pocket.

It seemed completely asinine to grab it, but you didn’t want to leave anything behind. Especially not a brand new bar of soap.

You lifted yourself up the window so you could get out feet first. Going headfirst at any height could lead to serious injury, or, ya know, death.

“Mx L/N?”

You looked back at the door breathing heavily before looking back at the window.

For a moment, you thought about just giving in to him. Letting him keep you locked away and make you live in fear of him for the rest of your life. It would be so much easier. That or just killing yourself.

But you couldn’t do that, not when you had come so far. Not when you had almost enough to get out of the country and never see him again. Not when you could be free of him and the U.S. as a whole.

You didn’t know what had so attracted him to you, but you wished that whatever it was would stop existing.

“Mx L/N, please open up!” The man sounded more urgent now like he knew what you were doing.

Gripping under the window, you pushed yourself out. Instead of letting go immediately, you hung on. You dropped a little so you could get a better grip on the bottom of the windowsill. Swinging side-to-side, you set your sights on a nearby balcony.

Even though the sound of your heartbeat flooded your ears and the fearful doubts filled your mind, you could still hear the shaky, unsure breaths you were breathing. You breathed in through your nose and out through your mouth, closing your eyes, before swinging to the neighbour’s balcony and letting go.

The balcony was situated over another tenant’s old sofa. They’d put it out a few days ago and had yet to throw it away.

You landed with a forceful thud onto the sofa, even moving it a bit. It didn’t do much but it was better than concrete.

You pushed yourself up and turned, only to find a man in black with his gun out. Looking the other way, his partner came around the corner, his gun also raised.

“Mx L/N, we were given instructions not to hurt you, but we will if we have to,” one of them said.

You looked between them, warily.

They seemed to be twins. Everything down to the last detail was identical. Must have joined together and gotten paired up. Who better to trust in the field than your brother?

There was nothing but woods behind you. If you made a break for it, the best they could do was shoot an arm or leg, maybe a shoulder if they were brave. It’d slow you down and you’d need medical attention, but you’d live if you didn’t bleed out first.

One of the twins put his gun away and slowly approached you. “Please, we just want to talk.”

It was obvious he was trying to get you to trust him, but you wouldn’t fall for that again.

You took off running.

The other twin aimed but his brother chastised him.

•

After running through the woods for a while, you climbed up a tree, out of sight. If the men tried to follow, they, hopefully, wouldn’t look up.

As you fell into the almost bowl-like middle of an old oak, you breathed heavily and tried to relax.

You knew he wouldn’t leave you alone for a while. But it had been months. Months. Why was he still chasing? Was it because you knew what he was? Who he was? He had told you many secrets that he probably wouldn’t want anyone else to find out, usually when he wasn’t who he told all the others he was and was, instead, himself. But, you didn’t want anything to do with him or his world. You wanted a new start, a new life.

You waited in the tree for hours, thinking about him and the new life you’d start somewhere else in the world. Maybe Canada, Scotland, or New Zealand. Someplace like that. Somewhere that wasn’t the U.S.

Slowly, you fell asleep.

•

When you awoke, it was late. The full moon was at its peak and the stars were out bright in the navy sky. They all had much to show the world. But, more importantly, it was light enough for you to leave.

You couldn’t go back to your flat. It was too dangerous. You’d have to just pick a direction and keep moving. Hopefully, you’d find someplace then.

•

You had to admit, this was the first time you’d ever come out to these woods since you’d started renting here. It was definitely pretty.

The brown leaves littered the forest floor, but not in an ugly way. It was rather beautiful. The leaves almost looked like rich, dark soil in the night’s late hour. If it weren’t for the fact that you knew they were leaves by their crunch, you would have thought the forest floor had no grass. The leaves reminded you of a time long past, a time of innocence you no longer possessed.

With a smile, you jumped on a group of leaves making them crunch slightly. It was rather satisfying. Sadly, you knew you had to keep going and playing with the leaves just wasn't an option, so you trekked on.

Despite knowing you had to hurry to find safety, you still allowed yourself to enjoy the moonlight as it gave the forest an almost otherworldly, effervescent glow. Funnily enough, it felt more familiar than the word of concrete and metal you came from. It felt safe and comforting.

Twigs snapped beneath you every once in a while as you walked. You gripped your backpack’s straps tightly, occasionally looking behind you.

A part of you wished for this to be over, to be safe and sound elsewhere. Not awake in the middle of the night, walking through the woods on an empty stomach.

While looking behind you, you took a misstep and fell.

You groaned. Leaves stuck to your now dirt-covered hands and you pushed yourself up.

As you looked up, someone came into view.

A new stint of fear shot through you as you scrambled backwards.

“You do not need to fear me,” the person said. “I mean you no harm.”

As the moonlight cast down upon her, you studied the young maiden. What seemed to be a golden wreath of sorts sat upon her head, like a crown.

“I heard your prayer for safety, young one. I only wish to guide you to it,” she said, nearing closer.

Despite her soft words, you doubted her. You knew what she was and, in your experience, their kind never gave anything without wanting something in return.

She knelt in front of you. “My name is Soteria. Will you let me help you?” Soteria stood and offered you a hand.

Unlike other gods you’d met, she seemed kind. She didn’t have the same feel as the others. No malice or anger or lies.

Even though your paranoia screamed no, you couldn’t help but take it.

She lifted you up and gently touched your cheek, looking deep into your eyes. It was rather uncomfortable really. Her hand fell.

“Travel straight that way,” she said, pointing to her right. Her gaze followed her arm. “And you will find safety.”

You nodded, gratefully.

“Young one,” she said, turning back to you. “No harm shall fall on you if you keep this with you.” The goddess took your hands into hers and placed something in them. “You will survive and you will persevere.”

“How do you know?” You asked.

“Believe it and it will be so, my child,” she said, cupping your cheeks with a smile.

•

You pushed yourself off the forest floor and shakily rose to your feet.

“Must have really hit my head,” you mumbled to yourself.

You hadn’t realized you were tightly gripping something cold and sharp in your hand until it began to cut into your skin.

Taking a look at the foreign but familiar object, your sight is met with a metal circle hung from a chain, the face of Medusa filling the frame. Moonlight glinted off the metal, shading her horrific, severed head. Running your thumb over the pendant, you noticed her snake-like head raised from the circle. You could even feel the raised blood falling from her stump and the fangs of Medusa and her snakes. Said snakes had minute scales engraved into them. The gorgon's mouth hung wide open like a snake’s with flesh between the top and bottom at the corners of the mouth. She hissed, baring her fangs, at an unknown attacker along with her forward-facing serpents. Her slit-pupilled eyes spoke of the fear and anger she held before Perseus cut her head from her body. On either side of the pendant, golden laurel sprigs created a sort of half-wreath. You ran your thumb over the gold as well. The detail of the leaves was incredible. Tiny, minuscule veins wound through them. Small gems you didn’t know the names of decorated the sprigs, clustered together to resemble flower buds. It was a beautiful, albeit peculiar, necklace.

Upon remembering what Soteria said, you put the necklace on and gripped the pendant tight. It was strangely comforting.

You took a deep breath, turned to where the goddess had pointed and marched on with a strange, newfound confidence and determination. Knowing that a goddess was behind you and the Roman Medusa hung around your neck renewed you.

He wouldn’t get you. You wouldn’t let him.

•

You didn’t know how long you walked, but the moon had set and dawn had broken.

Birds, the noisy things, squawked and sung and annoyed the ever-living daylights out of your tired self.

Still, it was a better sound to be around than the New Gods and the shite they were always talking about.

The Technical Boy in particular. Him and his talk of being better than the Old Gods. But, he seemed to be the best of the bunch. Sadly, that’s not saying much.

Media was a snake who told you the prettiest lies and World, despite saying he cared for you (never love, only care), preferred a pretty lie over the ugly truth, telling you whatever would keep you the happiest and controlled by him. It took you a long time to admit he was manipulative, but once you settled that with yourself (not an easy task) it was slightly easier to see his lies and manipulative tendencies.

The Technical Boy didn’t give two shites about you, and, thus, didn’t care to lie. He always told you exactly what was going on. He was also, usually, really fucking blunt. The dude had no filter.

Eventually, your tired legs and sore muscles screamed at you to take a break. The dryness in your mouth and rumble in your stomach asked the same of you.

But you couldn’t. Not yet, at least. Your mind told you to keep going, that relief was just around the corner. And, you believed it. Besides, if you passed out now, who’s to say the fumes wouldn’t run out while you were resting? Or worse yet, someone aligned with World would find you.

A car rushed by, a flurry of leaves trailing behind it.

You clambered up the ditch, mud and leaves furthering to dirty your clothes.

Not to say they were clean before your escape. Too much could happen in the time it took to clean a load of laundry.

You walked along the road. Cars passed you occasionally, but it was far too early and the road was probably a ways away from the complex. That complex was also pretty far from any city.

•

Exhausted, thirsty, and hungry, you prayed you’d be able to stop soon even just for a minute or so.

As you walked, the faint outline of a building stood up ahead.

You sighed in relief.

Maybe there will be people there. Ones not attached to him.

All you could do was hope for that and maybe some water, that’d be nice, too.

•

As you got closer, you realized it was a motel. A Motel America with its neon blue and red. It, faintly, reminded you of the U.S. flag. That was probably the point of it.

You stumbled to where an attendant sat behind a desk. They didn’t notice you.

“Hello,” you said, voice raspy. “How- How much is a room?”

They looked up and their jaw dropped. “Are you okay?”

‘Must be worse off than I thought,’ you thought.

The floor under you swayed and you struggled to keep your footing.

“Mx? Are you okay?” the attendant asked again. “Do you need an ambulance?”

You shook your head. “No. Just- just a room. Please. Please don’t tell anyone I’m here.”

They nodded and grabbed a key, handing it to you.

You fumbled for your bag and tried to pay, but the attendant shook their head.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. Just go.”

You mumbled thanks and stumbled away, rubbing your necklace.

“Call if you need anything,” they shouted after you.

A bout of relief spread through you and you thanked the attendant in your head. You also thanked Soteria. She was probably the reason you’d even got here.

•

The smooth, clean blankets covered you, wrapping you in their warmth. It didn’t matter that you were still wearing dirty, grimy clothes and hadn’t taken a shower in over three days. For once, you felt clean, and most importantly, safe.

Your muscles ached as much as your stomach growled. The emptiness of your stomach reminded you of your current lack of adequate resources. Sure, you had some cash stuffed away in your backpack, but not enough to last long.

Someone gently shook you awake.

With a groan, you buried your face in a pillow.

The person shook you again.

You turned to them, only to find the attendant from last night.

“Morning,” they said. “My shift’s been over for a while, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You pushed yourself into a sitting position with more effort than you should need. “I’m fine.”

Your growling stomach betrayed you.

The attendant looked down to your stomach then back to you. “Sure about that?” They asked, eyebrows raised. “I got an extra sandwich in my bag. Want it?”

You nodded but refused to meet their gaze.

It wasn’t that you wanted to take advantage of their generosity, but you were starving.

The attendant slowly backed away like you were a wounded animal. They pulled something out of a bag and tossed it to you. “I’m Sammy, by the way.” Sammy pointed to the bathroom. “There are cups in there if you need them.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I won’t stay much longer. I have to keep moving.”

Sammy nodded.

You got the feeling they understood your position. Maybe that’s why Soteria had directed you here.

•

Night had fallen and the waning moon filled the sky with her beauty as her beautiful wives twinkled with her, though they did not shine with her same might.

You stepped outside your room onto the concrete walk, fiddling with the gift from Soteria.

Though you may not have been able to wash your clothes, a nice shower, some food, water, and rest did you wonders.

Sammy peeked out of their place and waved.

You waved back before setting out on the road.

There was a long journey ahead of you.

•

A fluttering of butterfly-like creatures caught your attention. Turning to the sound, a box sat with the creatures hovering above it. They disappeared when you saw the box.

You had been looking out for one of those.

World and the others had a particular fondness for them.

Your breathing quickened and you slowly stepped away before you started running down the road, your backpack bouncing up and down as you went. Though your muscles still ached, you pushed through the pain.

You couldn’t let this happen. You couldn’t go back. You couldn’t be trapped with them again, with him again. You had to keep running. You had to get away.

In a foolish move, you looked behind you only to see it gone.

When you looked back, headlights blinded you, stopping you in your tracks. You covered your face, wincing from the bright light. Stepping back, you realized it was Technical Boy’s limo. As you, again, stepped back, you knocked into something. Slowly, you turned around and looked into the faceless thing the New Gods called one of The Children. It grabbed you by your arms, holding you still.

Instinctively, your hand went to the necklace as you panted, staring at the Child. It had barely been a day and you already clung to it like a koala on a tree.

A flood of light and smoke came from the limo, bringing your attention back to it.

The door opened and someone, no, two someones stepped out.

A scowling Technical Boy and a pleasantly, fakely smiling Media stood up and faced you.

“Y/N, darling,” Media said, flourishing her arms out. “It is so good to see you again.” She wagged a finger at you. “You’ve been very naughty. Running away like that and all.” The goddess smiled at you. “Mr World has been very distraught over your absence. Oh, how he loves you so. The two of you are like Cesar and Cleopatra.”

Technical Boy snorted. “You mean World’s a creep and helped create a false narrative surrounding--”

Before he could complete his sentence, Media slapped him upside the head.

“Hush,” she hissed.

The boyish god winced and rubbed his head.

Media approached you, still all fake smiles and pleasantries. “Darling, Mr World really does miss you terribly. I’ve never seen him quite so distraught! Please, come home. We, well, Mr World, can take good care of you. You can be happy again. Just come home.”

“He wants me back?” You asked.

Media readily nodded.

“Then he should come get me himself.”

A smirk crept on Technical Boy’s face but he pushed it away. “Look, I admire your determination and tenacity, I do, really, but come on. He’s making life a living Hell for us. Just come back. I’m sure he’ll do better by you or whatever,” he said.

Your gaze shifted to him, eyes shining. “You know nothing of a living Hell,” you said, your voice breaking. Tears threatened your eyelids at knifepoint.

“Not helping,” Media sang with a strained smile at Technical Boy.

He looked down and rolled his eyes.

“Look, darling, I know Mr World can be difficult--”

You cut her off. “Difficult? Difficult!? You think he’s difficult?” You asked. “No, he’s fucking insane and manipulative. I want nothing to do with him or any of you. Just leave me alone.” Your tears cut through and spilt down your face.

Media opened her mouth to say something but closed it, not knowing what to do.

Technical Boy made a dismissive wave at the Child and it stepped away, letting you go. He carefully stepped toward you.

“I don’t like you,” he said. “I don’t know why World does. I don’t get what he finds so fucking interesting about a pathetic, squishy, easily killed human. But I know he wants you back and has spent every second he can trying to find you.” The god stopped in front of you. “He’s obsessed and, yeah, he’s manipulative and probably insane. That’s World for ya.” Technical Boy placed a hand on your shoulder. “Just come back, maybe punch him in the face, demand some shit or whatever. I don’t care. But World is fucking riding us like you used to ride him. He is up our fucking asses all day and it’s driving me insane. Please, for the love of fucking God, just come back before I lose my shit.”

You wiped away the tears and looked the arrogant son of a bitch in the eyes. “Go fuck yourself, Technical Boy.”

His hand fell from your shoulder. He turned back and shrugged. “I tried.”

It was obvious, even to the most socially inept, that he didn’t really care about you.

In the distance, a man struggled to maintain a straight line as he drove. Liquor bottles clink against each other in the backseat, and the passenger seat and floor.

Media stepped forward. “I understand your uneasiness, Y/N, but things can be different.”

The car got closer, swerving around. No one seemed to notice.

“No, they can’t,” you said. “He will never change.”

Technical Boy, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up. He spotted the car and straightened. “Um, guys…”

“Not now,” she said, raising her pointer finger behind her at him.

Technical Boy slipped his phone away. “But--”

“I said, not now!” The goddess turned around to glare at him.

“Yeah, but there’s a fucking car!” Technical Boy said, pointing at the oncoming car.

You swivelled around, taking a look around the Child. Headlights filled your gaze, and, for a moment, you understood what it felt like to be a deer trying to get across a road. By the time you recognized what was happening, it was too late; you couldn’t get away.

The last things you felt was the Child’s body slamming into yours and the distinct feeling of dread.

You were going to die.

There was also a sense of relief, knowing that you would die free and not chained to him.

•

The sound of beeping woke you. The feeling of another warm body against yours was unsettling when you did wake. As you opened your eyes, your blood ran cold.

World was holding you, partially on the bed with one of his legs hanging off.

“Hello, my dear,” he purred. “It’s good to see you awake.”

You pushed him away and tried to sit up.

“Oh, no, no, no, we will be having none of that now, my dear. You are far too injured.” The well-dressed god pulled you back toward him, but you did not relax.

Slowly, he pushed you back into a lying position and kissed your forehead like a child. He even dared to pull blankets over you. World sat onto the bed and faced you, gently reaching out and stroking your cheek.

Some part of you wanted to react, to vomit or push him away, but you couldn’t. Every fibre of your being told you not to do anything to make him mad. After 6 years of that keeping you alive, the idea had become ingrained.

“I almost lost you, my dear,” World said, quietly. “The thought of never seeing you again was unbearable. I’m so glad to have you back, safe and sound beside me.”

Though he seemed to actually mean it, with shimmering eyes and kind movements, you couldn’t trust him now any more than you could any other time. It was all a facade, a carefully crafted one at that. He had manipulated you before and would do it again. This time, though, you wouldn’t let him, no matter what he did. This snake would no longer charm you.

Despite it being a majorly bad idea, you had to ask the question that had been running through your head since you’d run the first time.

“Why?” You asked, quiet as a mouse. “Why do you want me so badly? I don’t understand it.”

His hand traced a path to yours. “My dearest, you know better than to ask something like that. A partner like you best kept with their mouth shut and a pretty smile on it.” With his free hand, he tilted your chin upward, possessively smiling down at your frowning face with malice.

“That’s not an answer,” you said.

World’s smile became strained as he tried to hold back the urge to smack you. You could tell by his eyes that’s what he wanted. There was dark anger behind them. Instead, he chuckled lightly before roughly grabbing your jaw and bringing you in close. “It’s the only one you’re getting, my dear.” He leant in close, any semblance of a smile falling away, and looked into your eyes. “If you ever,” he said, trembling with rage. “And I mean ever, leave like that again, I will not be so kind as I am now. Do you understand me?”

Against his hand, you tried to nod, any form of confidence fading from you. In his hands, or hand more like, you were like a tiny, weak child all over again.

He roughly shoved your face into the pillow and it stayed there as you were too afraid to look back at him. You bit your lip and screwed your eyes shut, trying not to whimper or cry.

World stood. “Technical Boy,” he said.

The tech god slowly walked in, keeping his eyes on the ground. Even he was somewhat afraid of World. Technical Boy stood near the door, not daring to walk in any further without permission.

“Wassup?” He said, popping the p.

World glared at him, disapproving of his casualness, from the opposite side of your bed.

Your head still firmly placed on the pillow, you opened your eyes to look at Technical Boy.

He had a rather odd style choice that you’d become fond of over the years. Today was no different.

Today, he seemed to have a hard-on for neon. Neon yellow and orange shoes with shiny spikes around the soles. A multi-neon-coloured jacket that looked like someone took a paintbrush and just started painting diagonal lines in a thousand different neon colours. His pants were awful, too. Every type of neon colouring on it, just like his jacket. Neon pink suspenders hung from his trousers and a neon blue t-shirt with a giant, pixilated, neon green thing on it. It was one of those spaceships from Galaga Shooter from back in the 80s or whenever. You couldn't remember what they were called exactly. Maybe it was just spaceships from Galaga Shooter.

His hair was, much like his clothing, a weird story. Along the pulled-back sides were two metal pieces on both sides, going from the front all the way back. Maybe they connected around the back of his head. The top had pieces wrapped into little bowls all the way down the middle. On his shoulder was a braid pulled out from the back. More neon stripes decorated his hair, from bowls to braid.

World looked to you. “Technical Boy will be looking after you until you’re all better and you can come home properly.” There was plasticity to his voice that you’d only become recently aware of before you’d run from him. World walked around your hospice bed and stopped next to Technical Boy on his way out. He turned slightly, the tech god mirroring his action, and whispered something you couldn’t hear before leaving.

As World left, you watched the tensed Technical Boy with curiosity. He looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours.

“I guess we’re going to be spending a lot of time together,” he mumbled. The god looked around and found a chair.

As he pulled the chair to sit next to the door, you struggled to sit up.

“Don’t even think about trying to run,” he said. “I ain’t like the Spooks or the Children. I’m not stupid nor easy to manipulate or overpower. You running will only hurt yourself and piss World off.” He sat down and leant back into it, staring at the ceiling. “Why the fuck is he so fucking interested in you, anyway? You’re not that special. Don’t get me wrong, you’re attractive in a simple, human-ey way, but you’re not, well, you’re not geometrically perfect, or close to it, like, say, Jensen Ackles.”

“I wasn’t going to,” you said, finally in a sitting position. “I know there’s no point now.” You wryly chuckled, tears slipping from your eyes. “Fuck,” you mumbled.

Technical Boy watched you, uncomfortable. He wasn’t good with emotions, especially not others’. “You good?”

You wipe away your tears before looking over at him. Deftly, you flip him off. There was nothing Technical Boy could do to you that would hurt more than knowing you were, once again, trapped under Mr World’s thumb.

The god rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. If he was going to be stuck here, he might as well play some games.

You look around the room, crossing your arms and rubbing them. It was a plain, white, rectangular room with your bed, a chair, and a nightstand. Otherwise, it was barren. The most interesting and colourful thing here was Technical Boy’s awful outfit, which looked, strangely, stylish on him, and the blankets on your bed. Their colours were stark in contrast to your hospital gown with the polka dots and barren room. The top blanket looked like a hand-stitched quilt with an array of warm colours and black decorated with images of cats and witches and other things like that. The others were larger child-like blankets with Bob the Builder, Care Bears, and other things like that on them. You ran a hand over the top one, enjoying the stitching and cloth running under your fingertips.

“World had those brought for you,” Technical Boy said, not looking up from his phone.

Your blood ran cold and your hand froze where it was. Slowly, your hands receded and you pushed the blankets away. Knowing that, even now, World was, in a way, touching you freaked you out. You needed to get away from it. You needed to get away from him. Barely registering what you were doing, you kicked the blankets over the edge bed and pushed yourself away from them and into the pillow behind you.

The quilt and childish blankets cascaded to the floor, unceremoniously falling into a heap.

The tech god looked up from his phone and stared at you as you curled up and hugged your knees, staring wide-eyed at the blankets. He continued to watch as you began scratching at yourself, trying to get the feeling of World off you. Technical Boy didn’t intervene until he noticed you bleeding.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, the god got up and walked over to you. He sat on your bed and grabbed your hands.

Out of pure instinct, you thrashed in his grip as he tried to calm you down. You could hear someone calling for you but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was here and he was going to hurt you.

“Y/N,” Technical Boy yelled over your panic. “Stop it. You're hurting yourself.” You continued fighting against him, kicking and thrashing. “Fuck’s sake, I need someone in here!”

Nurses came in and held you down before one stuck a needle into your arm and you passed out.

•

A year and a half ago

You lay in bed, texting a friend, one of the few World let you have. Smiling at your phone, you pulled a blanket over you, a quilt with sock monkeys on it.

World entered and took off his blazer, setting it on a fluffy chair. He rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. “Hello, my dear,” he purred, watching you.

You looked up and smiled. “Hi, bossman.”

He smiled, leant over you, and kissed your forehead. “Have you been good today?” He asked.

You shrugged and took one of his hands into your free one. “I did what you asked if that’s what you mean. I haven’t been out all day.”

“Good, my dear. Good,” he said before sitting on the bed and caressing your cheek. “I don’t want anyone else taking you away from me.”

“I wouldn’t want them to, love.” You smiled, gazing into his eyes.

As World started to say something, your friend texted you back a meme. Because of the addictive nature of technology, your head snapped to your screen. You laughed.

World’s eyes hardened. “Who are you talking to?”

“Just a friend.” You shut your phone off and tossed it to the side. You could worry about responding later.

“Just a friend, huh?” He asked. “A friend that makes you laugh?”

His sudden change in attitude threw you off and you sat up more. “Well, it was less my friend and more a meme he sent me.”

“He?” World growled.

He seemed to grow bigger, or maybe you were just pushing yourself into the bed more.

“I- I’m sorry,” you stuttered out. “I thought you said he was okay to talk to.”

World gripped your wrists, kneeling on the bed, and pushed you down. “I told you not to leave the house.” He jerked you off the bed and began to drag you out of the room in your underwear.

“I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. I was just talking to him,” you pleaded as you tried to stand. His grip tightened and began to hurt. “World, love, please, stop. You’re hurting me.”

Just as you had managed to get in a crouching position to stand, World yanks you down. You land with a thud on the cold, wooden floor.

“Hurting you? Never, my dear. No, I’m just punishing you for disobeying me.” He stood over you, his fists clenched.

“I- I didn’t. I didn’t go outside.”

That only seemed to piss him off more.

“I said not to leave the house. That means technologically as well. You disobeyed me, my dear. I really didn’t want to do this, but you’ve given me no choice.”

•

Present Day

You woke up in a fetal position in bed. Clenching your fists, you willed yourself to forget about the nightmare. Shakily, you pushed yourself up, blankets falling off you. A part of you expected, when you looked at them, you’d find the ones World had gotten for you. Instead, you were greeted by a different set, the top one with a close-up of a bunch of wolves perched atop a cliff with a forest in the background on it.

“I had one of the Children get some other blankets from a nearby store,” Technical Boy said, glued to his phone. “I didn’t tell it any specific type of blankets to get, so it just grabbed some. Hope you like wolves.”

Assured in the knowledge World hadn’t had a hand in getting these, you laid back down, pulling the blankets over you. You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing heavily, and curled back into a fetal position.

•

Weeks passed and you slowly healed. The Child that you had been in front of when the car struck had partially protected you, so you were better off than if it’d rammed into without any sort of cushioning. Still, rehab was fucking painful.

Technical Boy mostly said nothing, preferring his tech to others, particularly you. When he did speak, it was sarcastic and filled with a feeling of superiority. It tended to get on your nerves. But it was better than the alternative. Occasionally, he’d get a text and he’d be out the door faster than the Flash going at light speed. It was rare but still, you dreaded those texts because he’d always leave one of the creepy Children behind, or several depending on how he was feeling.

You’d talk to Technical Boy, of course. Well, not specifically to him, but you’d talk aloud to kill time. It was mostly rambling about one thing or another. Sometimes you’d talk about your parents and family, other times you’d talk about random things you’d learnt over the years. On very rare occasions, maybe once or twice, you’d talk about World and what it was like with him. It was nice, just talking without anyone listening but someone still being physically there. You knew he didn’t care and he probably wasn’t listening, but that didn’t matter to you. You just wanted to talk. Sometimes, he’d stop scrolling or playing a game for so long you thought he was listening. Thankfully, he was just reading something when that happened. Talking “to” Technical Boy was like talking to a brick wall in the best way possible.

Now, you laid in bed, throwing things at the ceiling, head relaxed against the headboard. You closed your eyes, groaning.

Out of pure boredom and nostalgia, you remembered a school play you’d been forced to do; The Wizard of Oz. You had played the Wicked Witch of the West for the second half of the play. Despite the rather enjoyable performance, you did hate the green face paint you’d had to wear. It didn’t feel good against your skin. As you remembered the play, you began to think about the song Ding-dong! The Witch is Dead that your Mum had always teased you with. That and the whole “I’m melting scene”. The song rang through your head as you tried to remember all the words, but the same lines repeated over and over again.

“Ding-dong! The witch is dead. Which old witch? The Wicked Witch! Ding-dong! The Wicked Witch is dead,” you sang, very much off-key but with a childish enjoyment.

Technical Boy joined in with his eyes still glued to his phone. “Wake up, ya sleepy-head. Rub your eyes, get out of bed.”

“Wake up, the Wicked Witch is dead!” You both sang out, Technical Boy was much quieter than you.

Your head fell forward and you giggled to yourself, covering your mouth with your hand. Technical Boy, unused to the sound, looked up at you, the edges of his mouth twitching up. But, when you looked at him, he looked away, his lips straining into a white line as he tried to cover up the smile. You curiously watched him for a while like you were waiting for him to do something. Upon deciding he was too boring to do anything of note, you started humming Ding-dong! The Witch is Dead to yourself. The song had ingrained itself into your brain.

Technical Boy typed something into his phone before speaking. “I can play it out loud if you want.” He showed you his phone’s screen.

You couldn’t tell what was on it as it was too far away, but you assumed it was Ding-dong! The Witch is Dead. “Sure. If you want.”

He pressed play and turned up the volume, but the noise was minuscule. Technical Boy gave it a confused look, frowning, and mouthed a “what the fuck”. For a few minutes, you watched him fuck around with his phone, trying to solve the problem.

Eventually, he turned to you. “Sorry. Volume isn’t working as it should. Must be some sort of hardware issue. I’ll take a closer look later.”

You considered, for a moment, that maybe Technical Boy wasn’t as good with his tech as he liked to boast. Then you remembered that TECHnical Boy was a TECH god and this is probably happening because he wants it to, on some level. You internally laugh at the thought.

‘Maybe he really hates that song,’ you thought.

“It’s fine. Maybe we’ll both be able to hear if you get closer,” you said with a small smile.

You could have sworn he was blushing at that moment. That was definitely peculiar. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you.

Technical Boy scratched the back of his neck, looking away from you. “Yeah, sure. That- that could work.” He got up, shuffling his sneakers along the tile.

As he neared your bed, he rewound the video and started playing it. Instead of sitting on the bed, he awkwardly stood there, holding his phone closer to you.

You laughed lightly before patting the bed. “You can sit down, you know that right? I’m not as easily broken as you might think.”

“I don’t think you’re easily broken at all,” he mumbled as he sat down.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Technical Boy drug the timer back to the zero second mark, replaying the video.

You shuffled around, listening to the song, before getting closer. Your chest pressed against Technical Boy’s back as you rested your chin on his shoulder. Surprisingly, he was very warm.

You’d expected him to be like his domain, cold and calculating, but, you supposed, he’d always been very angry and loud, just like the other part of his domain. You smiled softly, recognizing the duality to him. The angry, emotional, loud human-dominated Internet and the cold, logical, data-processing technology-dominated, well, tech. Then, you remembered how phones and computers were. It had been so long since you’d had one, it was like a far off memory. But, all technology tended to warm up as they were used and cooled when they weren’t.

You nuzzled into his strangely soft sweater, your cheek pressing lightly against Technical Boy's neck. Blood rushed up to his neck as his heart beat heavily, you could hear it more than you could hear the music. It was very calming. Though the rapidness of the beat was slightly concerning. Usually, humans have really fast heartbeats wasn’t a good sign, but he wasn’t human so maybe it worked differently.

Technical Boy glanced down at you, trying not to disturb you. A soft smile spread across his face. A blush did the same thing over his cheeks and his ears tinted pink as your hands found their way to his side.

You sighed, content, as you relaxed.

You hadn’t meant to get so physical with Technical Boy, but it felt nice to feel someone else’s warmth for once. To even be near someone again without fear of getting hurt was a huge relief. Though you knew if World ever found out, he’d kill you both or worse.

At the thought of the cruel god, you reached for where your necklace used to be. Instead, you grasped at nothing. The reminder that World had taken your necklace made you feel empty and cold even with the heater named Technical Boy letting you hold onto him. Your eyebrows knitted together as sadness filled your heart, weighing it down. Still holding nothing, you pressed your face into the tech god’s shoulder.

Technical Boy gently reached for the hand still on his side. He grasped it and pulled it around his stomach, gently rubbing your knuckles. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, just as surprised by his own concern and gentleness as you were.

If it had been anyone else, he would have pushed them away, but this was you and, after all the weeks you’d spent rambling, he felt like he knew you better than World did.

To be fair, most people probably knew you better than World did.

Still, Technical Boy had started to understand why World wanted you so badly. You were so human and so sweet, laughing at your own jokes and, in a way, treating him like a pet like always humans tend to do with technology. The way you so easily spoke to him about whatever was on your mind and the way you smiled even when you weren’t doing anything, was so human and he found that, despite how he had always viewed humans, he liked that about you. He wouldn’t say he felt anything stronger, but he did like it. Maybe more than he should.

You tiredly looked up at him, lips grazing his sweater (Technical Boy found himself wishing he wasn’t wearing one) and gave him a strained smile.

“I’m alright, I suppose,” you said. “I’m just wishing I still had my necklace. It helps calm me down.”

Technical Boy nodded, his phone turning off.

You didn’t know if he did that or it did it by itself.

“What’s it look like?”

His gaze seems to drop to your lips before darting back to your eyes, but you can’t be sure of yourself.

You shrugged. “Head of Medusa and gold sprigs of laurel shooting out from the pendant.”

Technical Boy nodded, mentally putting a yellow sticky note on a rough image of the necklace he had in his head with “find” written in red on it. “Sounds cool,” he said, meaning it but sounding rather casual about it. He mentally facepalmed.

You nodded, still touching the place the pendant once hung in front of.

Technical Boy noticed your despondency and put the yellow sticky note and the necklace under important.

You trailed your free hand down Technical Boy’s back, nails sending tingles all over his body.

This was something you both needed, but both rarely got.

Physical touch is the hardest thing you’ve ever come by, especially after meeting World.

As for Technical Boy, he was a lonely god surrounded by cold fellow New Gods and unfulfilling worship. Though he was necessary for the U.S. to function, the people’s belief in him wasn’t really belief IN him. It was a belief that technology is going to solve everyone’s problems. They do not view him as a deity and they do not know he even exists. It’s a sad thing for a god to be worshipped but not known truly within their worshippers. If that wasn’t bad enough, the other gods like Media and World didn’t really like him and they did nothing to hide it.

He glanced at you again. You caught it and smiled softly, wrapping your other arm around him, enjoying the warmth of him and the feeling of another being. The god leant into you, rolling his head back and closing his eyes. His hands found yours and he absentmindedly rubbed them.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

Technical Boy snorted. “Why? You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“It’s just-- You’re Technical Boy. You don’t like humans, so you probably aren’t the biggest fan of this.” You shifted slightly but still held him close.

He turned to look at you. “If I wasn’t okay with this I would make it known. I tend to do that.” A slight, itty bitty smile surfaced. “I can show you if you want? Trust me, I can be really loud and annoying.”

You pulled away, covering your mouth as you laughed.

Technical Boy’s smile widened and there was a strange light to his eyes as he watched you.

You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Ya know, I’m really touch-starved, so, trust me, I’m enjoying this,” he said.

Silently, you reached for one of his hands and held it in your own. “So am I, to be honest. World was never really one for touching. I was often pretty lonely…” You trailed off, eyes wandering. “It’s not much like that now, though. Even with him looming over me, at least you’re here.”

“Yeah, I am,” he said. Part of him wanted to kiss your cheek, but his far more logical side decided that would be a dumb idea. Instead, he squeezed your hand and smiled. “Don’t think I’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.”

All you could do was smile.

•

The Child sat there in Technical Boy’s chair like an action figure not in use.

Laying on your stomach at the end of your bed, your head sat on your crossed arms as you watched the empty, motionless creation.

Technical Boy had gotten one of those texts and had to leave. One of the Children had taken his place.

Ever since that conversation a few weeks or so ago and all the touching that happened, the tech god had opened up a little more, willingly joking with you and talking. You’d finally gotten to know more about the god. Turns out he was moderately decent sometimes.

You continued staring at the Child, your head falling to lay down. Blowing out a breath of air, you flipped over and stared at the ceiling.

World, thankfully, had been too busy to stop by in ages.

Sometimes, you’d learnt, you were fine with his name and existence being mentioned. Other times, you weren’t. Sometimes, you were scared, but his presence didn’t make you freak out. Other times, it did. The whole thing was pretty inconsistent.

You’d missed Technical Boy. His presence had a calming effect on you to a degree you didn’t understand. Still, when he laughed, you smiled with pride. When he smiled at you, your heart clenched in your chest. And, of course, when you caught him stealing a glance at you, you could practically feel the blood rushing to your face.

The sound of the door unlocking and opening made you jump and you quickly turned to see who it was.

Silently, you hoped it was Technical Boy and feared it was World.

A familiar face walked in with something in his hands.

“Tech!” You smiled and sat up.

He grinned at you before slipping whatever was in his hands behind his back and walking in. Realizing the Child was still there, he gave it a look and it got up. It left and shut the door behind it.

“I got something for you,” Technical Boy said, turning his attention back to you. “I think you’re really gonna like it.”

Head tilting with curiosity, you look at him. “What is it?”

He chuckled and sat down on your bed. “You’ll have to open it and see,” he said, pulling a small box from behind his back. He handed it to you.

Gently, you took the box and opened it. Inside sat a shell-shaped compact mirror. Though definitely disappointed, you were more confused than anything. You took it out and examined it.

“Why did you give me a mirror?” You asked.

Technical Boy’s grin grew. “Cause, without it, you wouldn’t be able to see what I’m about to give you.” He slipped behind you on the bed and opened the mirror over your shoulders, placing it in your hand. “Now, close your eyes and don’t open them till I say,” he whispered into your ear.

You leant back into him, enjoying the closeness. Though you were reluctant and a little confused, you closed your eyes anyway, deciding to trust Technical Boy.

You listened as shuffled around. A sudden and strange, though familiar, feeling of something settling around your neck made you tense, but that tension faded quickly.

“Okay,” he said. “Open ‘em.” Technical Boy’s head settled on your shoulder and he wrapped his arms around your waist, watching you in anticipation.

Just as you began to open your eyes, he stopped you. “Wait, hold up.” You felt one of his hands cup yours as he adjusted the mirror. “Okay, now.”

You opened them, greeted by a view of your necklace shining in the bright, artificial lighting. Your jaw drops as you stare at the terrifying face of Medusa. A warmth finds its way into your heart as your open mouth turns into a grin. Gently, filled with disbelief, you reach up and touch the pendant. Realizing it was truly there and not an illusion or something, a weight lifted off you, knowing you hadn’t lost it. You sighed in relief and clutched the pendant, closing your eyes.

Out of excitement, you turn around and wrap your arms around Technical Boy, hugging him tightly.

For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do. He knew you’d be happy but he hadn’t anticipated this. Remembering all the fanfics, posts, shows, and movies put on the internet, he realized hugging back would be a smart option. That would definitely help with keeping his blush hidden. He hugged you back, nuzzling into your neck.

As you pulled away slightly, you looked at him, still smiling.

He shyly smiled back.

You knew he blushed rather easily, but the sight of his face so flushed and ears so pink was a little shocking. It was still cute, though.

You fell back into him and rested your head on his chest.

Technical Boy squeezed you tight, resting his head against yours. He closed his eyes, finding himself able to relax with you.

A few seconds of silence passed before you decided, on a random whim, to kiss Technical Boy’s cheek.

He froze.

If he was pink before, he was Hot Tamale Red now.

You giggled lightly before beaming up at him.

Honestly, you couldn’t say why you did it. All you knew was that it felt right.

The door to your room slammed open and World appeared. Both you and Technical Boy snapped your heads to look at him, eyes wide.

You scrambled away from Technical Boy and off the bed, eyes going wide at the sight of your terrifying ex.

"And what exactly is going on here?" World asked. He stepped into the room and glared at you

The tech god got off the bed and put himself between the two of you, pulling World's attention away from you. The last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt, especially because of him. He didn't care if he got hurt. Technical Boy was a god; he could handle it. You were human and World had already done enough.

"Nothing much," he said. "Just talking."

World got closer.

Your heart pounded against your chest. The familiar fear of his presence shaking you to your core.

The way he approached reminded you so much of how he used to right before he laid into you, all height and glaring. He was going to hurt you again. Or Technical Boy.

Gods, Technical Boy. You didn't want him hurt. He'd been so kind to you over the last few weeks and had really come out of his metallic and rude shell. The thought of him regressing and being cold to you again sickened you.

"It seems as though I've caught my beloved and you doing much more than “talking”," World hissed.

Out of pure fear, you hide more behind Technical Boy, placing a hand on his bicep.

"Y/N hugged me," the god said, maintaining eye contact with World. "That's it. They were thanking me."

World took off his fedora, his long coat hanging off his shoulder. "For what?" His head jerked unnaturally.

"For being here when you weren't and for getting them their necklace back," Technical Boy said.

You hadn't noticed how tense he was until World was nearly on top of the two of you. He was just as scared as you were. Technical Boy breathed heavily through his nose but refused to flinch.

World pointed at your necklace and growled, "You shouldn't have that."

Your hand shot to your necklace, clutching the pendant in shaking fingers.

"And who are you to dictate that?" Technical Boy asked.

World, angered by Technical Boy's insubordination, walked to him and looked him in the eye. "You will leave if you know what's good for you, Boy," he said unwaveringly. "And, if you know what's good for them." World turned away, his fingers trailing across the end of your bed. "Unless, of course, you want them to receive the worst possible treatment for their injuries."

Technical Boy's eyes went wide and his jaw tensed. He looked to you.

You didn't want him to go. You didn't want to be left alone with World. You didn't want to left alone at all. Despite that, you also didn't want to end up in a dark room to die and you didn't want Technical Boy to feel guilty if that happened.

Turning to the tech god, you nodded toward the door, mouthing the word "go".

He hesitantly tried to say something, eyes glistening with sorrow and guilt, but didn't, defeated.

As he left, his heart heavy, you gave him a pained smile and wave. Once he walked through the doorway, your smile fell and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You already knew what World was going to do.

He turned to you, scowling.

•

Outside the room, Technical Boy stood, already hating himself for leaving you to deal with him alone. The number of times World had hurt him because he wasn’t perfect or didn’t do what World wanted exactly as he wanted it done and had the shite beaten out of him for it was astronomical. He’d always wished Media had done something about it when it happened, but she never did. Now, he had done the same thing to you.

He heard you yelp and the distinct sound of a body hitting the floor. Your cries echoed in his ears as World beat you. Though the door was shut, it did nothing to mask what he was doing to you. Technical Boy could faintly hear him saying this to you. He couldn't fully make them out, but he knew, in his heart, they were as vicious and violent as he was.

It took all of the tech god's self-control not to rush back in and protect you. He'd shield you with his own body if he had to.

Sadly, the god knew you'd only be worse off if he did. So, he sucked it up and walked away, fists clenched.

He had to figure out a way to get you out of here before World made sure you'd never go anywhere again.

•

You laid in bed, curled up with the blankets Technical Boy had gotten for you. The cloth felt soft and strange against your skin like you weren’t used to the feeling of safety and warmth around you. Even though you’d been using them for months at this point, the blankets still felt foreign. They were better than any World could force on you, at least. And, they reminded you of Technical Boy.

Since the day you told him to go, you hadn’t heard a peep. It was like he vanished from your like.

Honestly, you were worried about him and thought about him a lot. You had no idea if he was alright or not. Unfortunately, you'd experienced just how cruel World could be when he was angry; your face and body were plenty of evidence of that. Though Technical Boy was a god and World couldn't kill him, you feared for Technical Boy's safety. Over the years you'd been with World, he showed an apathy toward Technical Boy, if not hatred for him. He'd been violent with the tech god before. You knew he would be like that again on a whim. That's all it ever took; a whim.

The door to your room opened.

Tensing, you pulled your blankets closer. You shook slightly, closing your eyes and letting out a fearful breath. A free hand laid where the pendant of your necklace should be.

You'd been expecting him to come back to teach you another lesson. World had come every day since he's taken Technical Boy off "Y/N duty".

Slowly, you steadied your breathing and opened your eyes. A part of you hoped he'd find no joy in it today, that he'd grow tired of you and toss you aside. Even if you ended up dying, it'd be better than living in fear of World for the rest of your life.

"Y/N," a familiar and gentle voice said.

You wiped the blanket off and turned to look at the speaker; Technical Boy stood there with bruises on his face. They didn't take away from how happy you were to see him.

The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile, but his eyes screamed of pain. "Hey."

Of course, World had hurt him. You knew he would. It was World. But, that feeling in your chest, the feeling of your heart squeezing, the feeling you'd felt when World showed up randomly early on, the feeling of relief and love filled you as you looked at the tech god.

Without hesitation, you pushed away from the blankets and scrambled off the bed, not even thinking about them falling to the floor. You didn't give Technical Boy a second to breathe as you pulled him into a tight hug. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you screwed your eyes shut and breathed him in.

After the initial shock, Technical Boy slowly hugged back. He tested his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily. "Are you okay, Y/N?" He asked, pulling away and cupping one of your cheeks. His soft eyes searched yours.

You chuckled, tears of joy pooling at the corners of your eye. “I’m-- I’m better now,” you said with a smile.

Technical Boy relaxed a little, but still, his eyes stayed trained on your face. His fingers ghosted over your bruises and split lip.

It made you wince.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Did he do this to you?”

You looked away, not wanting to see the hurt in his eyes. "He cause those?" You asked, turning back and gesturing to Technical Boy's face.

For a beat, there was silence. Without having to say a word, both of you knew what happened.

You pulled him into another hug and he quickly reciprocated.

"I can't stay long. World doesn't even know I'm here right now. I hope he doesn't, anyway." Technical Boy pulled away and smiled at you. "I'm going to get you out of here, and soon. I promise." His eyes drifted to your chest, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion before turning into anger. "And I'm going to get your necklace back from World."

You looked down, putting a hand over where your necklace should be. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a necklace.”

It wasn’t, in fact, just a necklace. It was a gift from someone who actually, selflessly cared. Though you hadn’t talked to Soteria since you’d gotten the necklace, you knew she had been watching and trying to keep you safe. You knew it in your heart of hearts, in your essence, in your very soul itself. Maybe it was a want to have someone on your side or blind stupidity, but you had an unending faith that she was with you, that she was protecting you and guiding you even now. It was that faith you clung to when World would come in. It was that faith that kept you sane. Even before Technical Boy had been sent away, it was that faith that helped you get through even the worst days where your mind would plague you will horrible memories of World and your life with him.

Technical Boy shook his head. “It’s not just a necklace. It’s your necklace. It belongs with you, not him.”

You smiled softly at him, relishing in his gentle touch.

“I’m going to get it back for you and I’m going to get you out of here, so be ready to leave at a moment’s notice, okay?” He asked, looking into your eyes.

You nodded before hugging him again.

Real, genuine, caring contact with another being, no matter how artificial, is the only thing you wanted at the moment. Everything else be damned.

•

The door to your room opened in the night. No light shone in as all was quiet. It was past midnight. Of course, all was quiet. It’d be weird if it was loud and noisy.

Laying in bed, you slept as soundly as you could with the constant threat of World looming over you and plaguing your scarred mind.

Technical Boy looked back into the dark, empty hall before slipping into your room.

His own fear and doubt squirming through his mind and infecting him. Around every corner, his heart had beaten loudly in his chest as he could never be sure someone was just around the corner. Though the god knew how to manipulate technology, even recreate and control it to a certain extent, he was still afraid that World would pop up while Technical Boy had blinded himself by taking the cameras offline. It felt wrong to not be able to see everything through the cameras. It was too late to take it back though.

“Y/N,” Technical Boy said as he gently shut the door. When you didn’t respond he got close to your bed and nudged you. “Come on, wake up. We need to go.”

You groaned quietly and tried to pull the covers over your head but Technical Boy stopped you. He pulled them off the bed and stared at you.

You whined, trying to curl up, but the god wasn’t having any of that.

“Y/N, get the fuck up or I swear to God I will throw you over my fucking shoulder,” he said putting his hands on his hips.

You groaned again and flopped to your back. “It’s late.”

“I know,” he said. “Now let’s go.” The tech god pointed at the door.

You sat up, back stiff, and stretched. “Outside?”

He nodded. “I said I’d get you out of here, didn’t I?” Technical Boy smiled before offering you his hand.

The two of you shared a smile. Just as you reached out to take his hand, you remembered World and froze.

“What about--”

“Don’t worry about him,” Technical Boy said. “I’ve got a plan. Right now, we need to go.” He grabbed you and pulled you from the bed.

•

Outside the compound World had been keeping you in, you stared at the night sky. The beautiful blues and blacks melting together, and the points of white stars twinkling high above. You never thought something could be so beautiful. The stars danced in your eyes.

Technical Boy, holding the door to his limo open, stared at you like you stared at the sky.

Feeling his eyes on you, you looked to him and gave him a soft smile.

If it wasn’t so dark, you could have been sure of whether or not he was blushing. Instead, the darkness hid his embarrassment for him as he turned away from you.

“Get in,” he said, gesturing to the limo.

You nodded and walked over. Before you slipped inside the bright automobile, you gently kissed Technical Boy’s cheek.

He stood there for a moment, stunned as the tips of his ears turned pink. Swallowing hard, he gets into the limo, sitting next to you.

•

Standing in the busy airport, you looked around, clutching the carryon bag Technical Boy had packed for you.

Patiently, you waited for the tech god to appear. He had to get some things in order before your departure.

When he did appear, he seemed nervous, scanning the crowd with fearful eyes. He stopped in front of you, still scanning.

You understood his fear. It was a similar kind to what you had felt when you’d run from World.

Gently, you touched his arm, tearing his attention from the crowd. You gave him a gentle smile.

The god softened and weakly smiled back.

“Thank you,” you said.

Technical Boy shrugged, looking down. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is to me.”

•

On the plane, a child kicked your seat from behind and the man at the end of the row was talking loudly on the phone. You felt bad for the grey-clad man sitting between the two of you. He was getting it far worse than you.

Looking away from the commotion, you watched the people outside the plane scramble around and grasped the necklace’s pendant.

You were so close to freedom. Close enough to taste it. Or maybe that was just the aeroplane smell.

Despite still being in the U.S., you smiled. Even if the plane crashed, you wouldn’t be stuck with World. Even if the plane gets redirected somewhere or there’s a storm and the plane has to make a landing, you could still stay away from World long enough to get another ticket out of here. It would be a terrifying ordeal, but you could do it. Even if, worst comes to worst, World finds out and finds you again, you knew you could find a way out of his grasps again.

And if none of that comes to pass, you leave the U.S. for good, and never see anyone here again, you knew you could be happy. Maybe find someone to settle down with or get an animal or something. Maybe find a good job that you can mostly enjoy that isn’t totally soul-crushing. Maybe, if you’re really lucky, you can get a few hobbies that bring you joy like nothing ever could.

If you’re lucky that is, but you’ve never really been that lucky. Who knows? Maybe that will change.