#why do i hurt him so much

[derailedfiction]

Lonely boy | 1. An Coineachan

Characters: Merlin | Hamish Mycroft, Galahad | Harry Hart, Merlin | Richard Mycroft (OMC), and other

Warnings: sadness, parents loss, abandonment, anger issues, swearing, death

Word count: 1942

Summary: it is a prequel to Run boy, run

A/N.: An Coineachan (en. Highland Fairy Lullaby) a Scottish lullaby, supposed to be sung by a disconsolate mother whose babe has been stolen by the fairies. Translated by L. MacBean, author of "Songs of the Highlands"

It was an unusual night. After a long day of heavy rains, it finally calmed down and the ground started to release accumulated moisture, forming dense and heavy fog around a mansion. When everybody should be sleeping one person, a child actually, was awake and waiting. Left alone with its nanny, in an extravagant and big mansion, the child was waiting for its parents to return. Despite being asked to go sleep a little boy refused to do so. Something wasn't allowing him to sleep, some kind of anxiety that made his tummy hurt a little bit. At once he became scared and stressed and looking through the window, searching for the lights of his parents’ car didn't help. All he could see was a milky cloud tightly hugging his home. The nanny took the snivelling boy in her arms and carried him to his bedroom. She put him in the bed and covered him carefully with a duvet and a blanket.

"Sleep now little one. Papa and Mama will be home soon," she tried to calm down the boy, but she only received quiet sobs in an answer. "Come on boy. Do you remember what Papa promised to you?" he nodded with trembling chin.

"We'll go flying", the boy said calmed down a little bit.

"That's right. So, think about flying in a nice plane and going to sleep and in the morning, you'll hug your parents. Sleep little one," the nanny kissed his forehead and left.

He had a hard time falling asleep. Those strange figures out of the window were making him wonder where his parents were and why they hadn't already come home to him. He curled up into an embryo and lay in complete silence. Even his hamster usually noisy at night was quiet as if something big was oncoming. The boy cried a little bit more but after a while, he fell asleep.

***

In the other part of the country, a man was woken up by an unexpected phone call. It was nearly two in the morning when he answered the phone, shrugging the sleep remnants almost immediately.

"Yes, yes of course. What happened?" he sat up trying to understand what was said to him. "What? Is there any chance...", the speaker interrupted him with new information. "Are you absolutely sure?" He was listening carefully, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was hard to believe in such terrible news. "All right I understand that", but of course he understood. He heard the words, but their sense was lost to him, "Is there any chance that the child will live? The woman... His wife was pregnant... Oh Lord..." He felt all of a sudden numb, unable to speak.

Such tragedy, no one was expecting. His brother was dying, and his lovely wife was dead as the child she was carrying. His mourning thoughts concentrated on the boy they left alone in this world. Quickly he put himself together. He had things to be done.

"Is there any chance for me to arrive there just in time to see my brother?" the hope of seeing his little brother for the last time enlightened his face but it disappeared as fast as it came. The doctor on the other end wasn’t giving him great chances to survive the surgery.

"I'll arrive at the hospital as soon as I can. Yes, thank you," he got up and dressed in extreme rush.

The boy can't wake up alone, that was the most important thought for him at the moment.

"Arthur? It's Merlin. I need to borrow one of the helicopters. It's crucial. My brother and his wife just died, and they left a four-year-old boy after. I would be grateful. I need to get to Scotland as soon as I can. Thank you I owe you that, Arthur."

He was relieved that it went so smoothly. Just one more call and he was free to go but that was the hardest one. He dialled the number and waited.

"Hello?" the sleepy voice answered, he easily recognised Amelia, the nanny. "Amelia, it's Richard, Thomas's older brother." he was trying really hard to remain calm.

"Oh, good night, sir. Is everything all right?"

"How is the boy?"

“He had some difficulties with sleeping earlier this evening but eventually he is sleeping now," he could sense that she was suspecting something.

"Don't wake him, I’ll be there tomorrow. I have bad news, unfortunately."

Richard arrived in the early morning, quiet like a ghost. Of course, before arrival, he had taken care of things of practical matters like preparing necessary documents and contacting a lawyer. Some papers need to be changed. No sooner had he finished those small preparations than he went to the headquarters for the helicopter. The flight was surprisingly short, or it was due to the adrenalin and emotions building up. He didn’t pay attention to it deep in his thoughts looking at Glasgow bathed in the glow of the rising sun. The day looked promising, which even deepened the excruciating pain the man felt.

He tried to remember the last time was, he spoke to his little brother as he stood over his cold body, nodding to the mortician that it was his relative. It was not the first time he had to identify the body as the quartermaster of Kingsman, he got used to it. The coldness of the room and its sterility made him shiver.

Then Richard was presented with his sister-in-law's corpse, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Harsh gasp escaped his mouth as he helplessly tried to compose himself.

“Yes, that’s her,” he mumbled on the way out.

This was not supposed to happen. Never in his worst dreams has he imagined outliving his brother and being the one to determine if it’s the right body. He always thought it would be the other way around or that Thomas would end up getting a fancy letter with golden Kingsman’s emblem on it, informing with great sadness of his passing.

“Mr Mycroft?” he stood still observing the white-tiled floor with an empty gaze, “Mr Mycroft, are you alright?” a doctor touched his arm to get his attention, “I’m sorry for your loss, were you close?”

“We used to be. Unfortunately, my work wasn’t helping with keeping the relationship more devoted. At least at my end,” he cleared his throat and looked at the doctor, “How it will look like?”

“Well, we have to perform an autopsy but given it was a fatal car accident, it won’t take long. After that, the bodies will be transferred to the mortuary of your choosing for the funeral, Mr Mycroft. It will take a few days.”

“I see, you got my contact info?” after the confirming nod, he continued, “Good then I’ll wait for the call. I have to inform their son.”

“Mr Mycroft. Once again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Yes, thank you, doctor,” he brushed it off on his way out. The man’s thoughts were occupied and empty at the same time, already thinking how to deliver the news to his nephew.

***

“Amelia, is my mommy coming soon?”

“I’m sure she is, darling. Do you want to eat your breakfast?” the nanny showed him a plate of small pancakes with some berries on top.

“Pancakes? But it’s not Sunday,” the boy frowned puzzled with this offer, “I’ll eat them,” he added fast with a disarming smile.

“Very well, Hamish. Sit up and eat up, young gentleman,” Amelia put the plate with cutlery in front of the child and added a glass of juice after a moment, “When you finish you can go outside and play in the garden. How does it sound?”

“Mhmm,” he answered the best he could with a mouth full of food. He finished his meal excitedly, in his mind, already running on the barely dry lawn with a toy plane that would undoubtedly crush into the ground, “Thank you,” with a loud rumble he moved the plate away from him and ran away to dress up.

“Put your hat on, it’s rather chilly!” she shouted after her protegee. After a moment she heard a joyful scream as he ran out into the garden with his toys. She smiled to herself and started to clean up after the breakfast.

“Good morning, Amelia,” she jumped surprised.

“Good morning, sir. Quite an entrance,” she responded with a nervous laugh, “Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee, please. How is the boy?”

“He woke up in quite a cheerful mood. Is everything alright?”

“I’m afraid not,” he smiled softly, accepting the cup, “His parents had a car accident. They didn’t make it.”

Amelia gasped terrified, her eyes filled with tears, “My God, this is unbelievable. Oh, this poor boy. What will happen to him?”

“I don’t know, I spoke to the lawyer, I’ll become his legal guardian. We just need documents to move it further,” he heard a sigh of relief from the nanny, “Where is he?”

“Garden, playing with his planes,” her voice trembled as she tried to hold back tears. She was unable to imagine how he would feel when he finally heard the news, “Are you going to tell him, sir?”

“Unfortunately. I have no conscience to put you through it, Amelia,” Richard came closer to the window observing his nephew’s last moments of child’s light-hearted plays, “Let's give him some more carefree childhood. I’ll talk to him when he’s back home.”

Within half an hour a breathless and sweaty youngling stormed the house like a tornado, loudly demanding something to drink. Boots, hat, and jacket were left like a trail of breadcrumbs leading to the kitchen where he bumped into two adults conversing quietly.

“Uncle Rick!” he exclaimed throwing himself in welcoming arms, for a tight hug.

“Hello, dear boy,” the child nested himself comfortably in his arms and with cold hands touched his relative's face with naïve pietism, “What are you looking for, Hamish?”

“You look different, older…” he paused frowning, “Sadder.”

“Well, I am really sad today, lad,” Kingsman smiled softly, which puzzled the boy even more, “Let’s take our drinks and maybe we’ll go to the playroom?” he passed a plastic cup to the child and ordered to hold it tightly. With his other free hand, he took a half-finished coffee and they headed to another room.

“You stopped coming often, why?” nephew inquired, focused on not spilling his drink.

“I had a lot of work,” now I regret it, he thought to himself, “Alright, now off you go.”

As soon as Hamish stood on the floor, he greedily drank up the juice and gave back the empty cup to his uncle, eyeing a particularly soft teddy he wanted to play with. Richard sat down heavily on a black sofa and sank into it. He didn’t want to have this conversation with the four-year-old. All he wanted was to disappear or wake up from this nightmare.

“Hamish,” the boy looked at him expectantly, “Come here,” he stretched out his hand encouragingly, watching the child coming quickly holding teddy’s paw and dragging it behind him.

“Are you crying, uncle?” it was impossible not to hear how concerned the boy was, “Is it because you’re sad?”

“Yes, lad,” he lifted him and sat down on his lap, “I’m sad because something happened and I’m even sadder because I have to tell you about it,” as best as he could, Hamish tried to hide behind his teddy. If such a big adult was crying about something, what would be with him?

“What is it?” he whispered.

“Your parents won’t come home, boy.”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Kiss Kiss Fallen Tree!

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[lazylittledragon]

ok i swear i'm not going to talk about my breakup forever but the thing that just keeps bothering me:

i know that not getting what you need in a relationship is a COMPLETELY valid reason to end it but also. i feel like having a very vulnerable moment where i opened up about my struggles with intimacy and being relieved that i didn't have to keep doing things i wasn't comfortable with, then being dumped a YEAR later because of my lack of intimacy. is something i should be allowed to be very hurt by???

[turtleblogatlast]

Fun little silly thought I had about the Lair Games and specifically Leo deliberately losing is all the reasons he could have for doing so.

My favorite headcanon for his main motivation is that Splinter wasn’t proud of him anymore.

I imagine that, in the beginning, winning the Lair Games was Leo’s opportunity to shine. He wasn’t artistic or the baby of the family like Mikey, wasn’t a tech genius who created amazing inventions like Donnie, wasn’t the eldest who was insanely strong and dependable like Raph. So he had to shine somewhere else- anywhere else- and what better way to get attention than to be a winner? A champion?

And then he won too much. And it wasn’t special anymore. He got too big headed, too cocky, he knew this was his element and he ran with it.

Splinter’s words of congratulations slowly petered out. Suddenly, there was no real reason to win.

Winning feels empty when the only one cheering you on is yourself.

So- Leo schemed. And he’s a great schemer, fooling his whole family (and Donnie did deserve a win- people were way happier when he won.)

He even gave up his prized possession! His room!

Though he knows his brothers probably think it’s a bad prize. A terrible one, even.

Leo doesn’t sleep much as is, though. So Dad’s snores were more comforting than anything. It was reassuring to hear him so clearly alive and close by.

Even if the distance between them was larger than Leo’d like.

He’d just have to find something else, something more to show his dad that Leo was someone to trust, to be proud of, to love.

He gets his chance soon after, when he needs to pull off a plan against Big Mama at his dad’s side. Leo can only hope this victory is one that has a lasting effect when his father looks at him with pride once more.

Victory, for Leo, is a pretty loaded term.

[p4nishers]

there's something i need to say and yall can boo me for it but deep in my heart i'll always know i'm correct: crowley already forgave aziraphale. like already would take him back at one flutter of his eyelashes. that's all.

[kittyandco]

does anyone else get so upset when you think about all the things that happened to your f/o... all the things they went through? all the things they haven't healed from? the pain that they may still be enduring? how you can do your best to help them but you can't protect them from everything. so you just love them the ways they needed before, how they deserved. and you see them happy because they finally accept, at least in some ways, that they do deserve it. they deserve love like all beings do

[yuwuta]

yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 

[sysig]

Puts the “plates” in “Fellplates” (Patreon)

[charmac]

Do you think Mac has jacked off while reading the Bible? Or is he too ashamed? Or does the shame just turn him on more? Are the pages of his Bible all stuck together?

Oh, I don't think; we know:

(Pages stuck together, thanks for the confirmation, Charlie)

I think the shame definitely turns him on more, considering Mac Day:

And, the connected punishment, lest we forget The Gang Goes to Hell... (and the script here... whew)

While he was repressed then, he wasn't as of Charlie's Home Alone, so I think it's clear to claim that a part of his "homosexual awakening" was connected to the fact that he was gradually getting more and more into the idea of being punished (gone sexual) for his sins, to a point where he was just genuinely jerking off to the "evils of homosexuality"

I do wanna continue here though and say Season 15 is pretty interesting because we see Mac battle between being Catholic and proudly gay. He seemingly has no issue bragging to a Priest in the middle of a church that he's into triple penetration, but it is his sex life that is the driving "reasoning" for why he thinks he should become a Catholic Priest:

He's been "S-ing&F-ing" his way though life for too long and now he thinks God has taken away one of his identities (Irish) as a result. Mac's idea of being punished by/for God continues, but it's now through the form of revocation (as opposed to shame or flagellation). I think there's a clear "connect the dots" idea that depriving himself of sex (via becoming a Priest) is an "evolved" form of allowing God to punish him for being gay.

Obviously Mac learns he was lied to, as he actually is Irish, so his "journey" here is a bit of a wash, but the fact that his rationale jumped to God punishing him for having gay sex still stands. As he grows to accept himself, he's still looking for ways to feel shame (which, as we've seen, gets him off)...

But is the constant seeking for some form of punishment still there? We didn't see much of his Catholicism in Season 16 (I think the only mention of God from Mac was in The Gang Gets Cursed), but we did continue to see his sex life and—well, that was pretty heavy on Mac, openly gay dating, somehow managing to be neglected and deprived of actual gay sex, wasn't it?

[dollypopup]

Forgive the rant, but it's been weighing heavy on my heart. So much of the speculation of the Lady Whistledown reveal is the nail biting of 'Oh, I hope it's not too bad for Pen!' or justifying how her actions as LW actually weren't that bad in hopes to minimize the fallout

But there seems to be so little care to the fact that Penelope hiding it from him is going to break Colin's heart.

He is so elated to be with Penelope because he feels like this is the one person he can truly unmask with, that he can reveal all his cards to, and be accepted, and he is going to realize that is a one sided feeling in his relationship. Not only did Penelope feel she couldn't unmask in the past, but she feels she cannot do so even after their engagement. Even after he has reassured her of how much he cares for her and how much he trusts her.

I know everyone wants to skip over the angst of it and get to the 'oh look, they're so happy in love!' but y'all

Penelope is going to hurt him. He put his heart in her hands and she's going to crush it. He's going to have to look in the eye the fact that she didn't trust him enough to inform him of this very large part of her life, and he's going to understand that she kept it from him purposefully. Yes, she has her reasons, but like. . .that's painful. It's a slap in the face. Is it fully understandable her not telling him right after he asks? Or before? Of course! A lot happened! She had the most intimate experience of her life in the back of that carriage, and she'd gone through a lot of ups and downs that night, but after that excitement simmered and she had a chance to breathe, she should have told him.

But she doesn't.

Worse, she decides he simply doesn't have to know.

The fact that Eloise has to put an ultimatum on it at all is proof of that. Colin is falling in love with half of Penelope, and she's making it so that he does so on purpose. She is actively hiding half of herself from his eyes, and regardless of reason, when one party of the relationship is open and vulnerable, and the other is secretive, the secretive party is doing their partner a disservice.

Right now the person who has poured the work into the relationship is Colin. He has confessed his feelings first, he made all the big moves, he openly declared his interest in her, he proposed, he proved to her that he finds her desirable, he has hit every single love language in the BOOK. He's said repeatedly how wonderful she is, he's given her an engagement ring, bought them a house, he's chased down her carriage, he asked for those lessons to spend more time with her, he's had physical touch aplenty.

But I feel like so much of us as an audience are riding on the fact that we know Penelope has pined for Colin for a long time, and not understanding that Colin does not know that. And even if he does, she has not shown him that she loves him.

And I need to see Penelope pour into him an equitable amount as he's poured into her. They're both two people who embody 'I want to be so full of love, I forget what it's like to be hungry', and we forget that both of them have been denied affection. This fandom sympathizes the most with Penelope to the point where we don't want to see that Colin has also been pushed to the wayside. This man is starving for love and romance. Not just to love, but also to be loved.

People forget that Colin has been denied affection from his family, from his sexual experiences, even from Penelope. She didn't write back to him the same way his siblings didn't. Colin has been disparaged in his household, too. He's been made to feel like a burden, like he has no right to family funds, hell, he was all but called a pathetic virgin in Season 1 by his own brother, the head of his household, and his mum and Daphne and Anthony all assumed that he needed his messes cleaned up for him and he says aloud no one takes him seriously.

I want to see Colin be loved. I need to see it.

It's not a scorecard, I get that, but if you look at it objectively, Colin has done so much in his relationship with Pen, and she's lying to him. She's keeping from him a secret that reinforces what others have said of him: that he's gullible, naive, too trusting, someone that needs his muck ups solved for him, just a foolish boy caught up in his fantasies. And when the truth of Penelope's deception comes out, and he's going to question if all those people were right all along, and questioning his trust in himself (because, mind, this is the second woman who has said she loves him and has been keeping a huge secret from him, if that happened to me, I'd be closing my heart off for a very long time), he's going to need her to mend the wound that she'll pry open.

Colin said a hurtful thing about Penelope in Season 2, and then spent Part 1 of Season 3 soothing the pain that caused her. Now, Penelope is doing a hurtful thing to Colin, and she will have to heal that hurt, too. He is a tender, soft-hearted person who trusts her completely, and is falling arse over elbow for her, only to then get tripped up on her own web of wires and do a barrel roll in the dirt. And I know they'll choose each other, I know.

But after she helps him up, I need to see Penelope romance Mr. Bridgerton, assuredly, fervently, loudly.

Because he deserves to be.

[cowboy-kidd]

Caregiver!Alfred Pennyworth

x - x - x

x - x - x

x - x - x

(hc's always in tags 🦇💕)

// pt - dni: nsfw accounts //

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you. I'm sorry.

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[mephoj]

taco and mephone have fascinating parallels more people could explore if taco haters weren't biased cowards

[bellshazes]

the only person who understands joel/etho/bdubs/impulse is me. cos i hate it. and i comprehend who's the dog needing kicked so bad. and it's several of them in the stupidest ways

[skyloftian-nutcase]

(content warning: heavy angst, SI, despair, and some body horror) Link felt sick.

He’d done it. He’d found one of their graves. He knew if he lingered here too long it would give his position away. He knew if Ganondorf took control at any point from here on out, he’d find out his daughter could be found, could be resurrected and controlled like Link was.

It was an accident. He had been looking for sword shards and had stumbled upon this place, nondescript as it was. Hemisi had never been one for flair, unlike her father.

He couldn’t do this. He refused to let his beloved be corrupted like he’d been. Link would rather die a thousand deaths, would rather burn in the magma of Death Mountain, than let Hemisi feel the agony and torture he felt when Ganondorf used his dark powers to bend his will.

Death Mountain. Death Mountain.

A thought crept into his head, dark, twisted, sickening and horrifying but efficient. It came from his heart, a desperate desire encased in love and fear, sharpened into clarity by his crumbling mind.

With trembling hands, Link picked up the urn. Gerudo more often than not burned their dead. The desert was not a forgiving place in general, and bodies rotted quickly. It was the quickest and cleanest way to lay them to rest. Link wasn’t sure Ganondorf could work with just ashes, but considering he’d managed to resurrect Link from likely dust—given how long it had been, he was surprised there had been much left of him—he wouldn’t put it past him.

Link walked for a long time. There was no way he could teleport with the gloom - it would give everything away. He ducked around canyons, hid behind monster camps; he knew the layout of a majority of the Depths like the back of his hand by now. He certainly knew this area.

In the distance it was brighter. Crimson glowed, a dichotomy of innocence and foreboding in comparison to the purple dim glow of the gloom everywhere. Link made his way towards it, feeling the air growing stiflingly hot. He didn’t have any elixirs to protect himself. He didn’t care.

The lava’s heat made the air swim. Link was already sweating, his footing growing unsteady as his lungs screamed in protest. He felt like he could breathe fire at this point. He still didn’t care.

This is the only way. He can’t resurrect what no longer exists.

May Hylia forgive me. May Hemisi forgive me.

I’m so sorry.

Link was close now. The lava was beginning to make the area unbearable. He nearly dropped the urn with as much his hands sweat and shook. He grimaced as a fiery wind tore through him, his skin blistering, his nerves crying for relief, his mind screaming to accomplish his goal before it was too late, his heart begging to join his beloved in this fate.

He was close enough now. Flames licked at his feet, snapping hungrily at his clothes. He took a breath.

He threw the urn into the fire.

The old clay shattered immediately, and the precious ashes it contained couldn’t even be seen in the lava’s voracious hunger. Every last piece of Hemisi disappeared in a heartbeat, as if her memory being erased were simply an afterthought.

Link threw up.

The force of it made him fall to his knees. His head was spinning, and the dirt here was more hot coals than soil. He didn’t have it in him to scream, even though every fiber of his being was doing so. The rancid smell of bile was only compounded and worsened by its cooking in the heat, and Link heaved again.

A scream finally did tear out of his throat as his hands started to smoke.

Leaping to his feet out of instinct, he tried to scramble back, but he wanted to move forward.

To hell with the sword shards, to hell with Hyrule and Ganondorf’s plans for it, he wanted to go home, he wanted to see her—

He was so tired. He was so lonely.

Link stumbled ahead, tears dried before they could ever leave his eyes. The lava was so close, it wouldn’t take much longer before he—

A hand gripped his wrist, cold and clammy, a blessed relief to his skin, but his mind screamed. Link gasped, trying to run, when another hand grabbed his other wrist, and then his body froze up. Cold, dark energy snaked around him from head to toe, except on his forehead, which burned. Link felt his breath stop, his muscles seize, and then, with agonizing effort in each move, he slowly turned away from the magma. A gloom spawn was directly in front of him, easing him away as he walked with it, his mind and heart screaming and flailing and kicking despite his body placidly going along with the beast. The sword shards were warm in his pouch, a comforting kindling fire in an ice cold abyss, and he almost felt himself hesitate despite Ganondorf’s control.

But no. It wasn’t enough.

His head exploded with pain as he fought the puppeteer, as he tried to break free, but he couldn’t. He never could. Unconsciousness was pulling fast, but he’d lose control entirely if he gave in.

Just do it, his mind whispered. Just let him win. What difference does it make now? He can’t hurt her.

Link was so tired.

Just give in. Let him guide you, go along with it. Let him take care of you.

Link was so lonely.

Let him love you.

He couldn’t stop himself from getting sick again, dark control or not. But since his body was no longer his own, he continued to walk, though his steps stumbled to a halt as he vomited. Gloom spread under his feet, easing the burning from earlier, and Link was pulled under.

When the darkness faded, he was back in the Center, the focal point of all the dark energy, and he heard footsteps rushing towards him. The world was spinning so dizzyingly he could get sick again, but miraculously he didn’t - either that or he just had nothing left in him.

The icy puppet strings that infected his muscles receded, leaving him with a pounding headache and body wide shivers. His knees buckled just as Ganondorf reached him, catching him.

“Link, what were you thinking?!” his fa—abuser demanded, voice shaking. “Why were you over there?”

He’d been playing his role so well. He’d been distracting Ganondorf, helping him in smaller ways, gaining his trust. He didn’t want to do it anymore. He just wanted to die.

“I’m tired,” he whimpered, the tears beginning to fall.

Ganondorf held the boy with trembling arms, but his grip tightened as Link fell apart. The child had no more words to say, only convulsing with full body sobs as Ganondorf gently picked him up to support him better. Link gripped his tunic, quickly soaking it with tears, and the demon king found himself at a loss of what to do.

The image of the boy laying in his arms, bleeding and crying and dying flashed through his mind, and he held him tighter, swaying back and forth.

Ganondorf didn’t understand what had happened. Link had been fine, hadn’t he?

His cries clearly indicated otherwise.

He felt his anger start to swell, an automatic response as his heart screamed, as he felt it race in terror at what had almost just happened. He didn’t like feeling afraid and out of control like this, so desperate to try and fix something that he couldn’t just fix. He bit back a snappish rebuke, channeling his anger into energy as he started to walk around the chamber, holding Link close, so close, he’d almost lost his boy—

For once, he didn’t know what to do.

This was why he had placed his magic in the boy. This right here. Because he’d done this before, this was how he’d died before! He’d sacrificed his life to save that pathetic excuse for a king! Why did the child think he could just throw his life away like this?! Did he not realize how important he was?

Ganondorf again found himself fighting his anger. It wasn’t particularly easy, as he usually just let it out, but years of parenting had taught him some self control.

This place was taking a toll on the boy. He needed to fix that, to help him. He channeled his rage into power, reaching up above into the Surface, feeling the swell of the Blood Moon like a high tide pushing on to land. Gloom gathered around the pair, and he made it take them above.

The air was suffocating a moment as they moved, and then it cleared substantially. A breeze blew, cooling the Gerudo’s hot cheeks, and he took a steadying breath. The smell of cherry blossoms and sweet honeysuckle saturated his nose, too unfamiliar to be comforting but pleasant enough. But for Link, it would mean the world. He’d taken them as close to Kakariko as he could manage. He hoped it was enough.

Link’s sobs hitched and paused as he felt the change in atmosphere, and he peeked his puffy eyes out from the folds of his guardian’s tunic. Ganondorf swept a hand up and down his back as he gazed around in wonder and confusion, a glimmering hope shining in his eyes for a moment.

When he looked upward, red eyes matching the moon perfectly, his face fell.

“W-what—what are you doing?” he asked shakily, eyebrows pulling together in worry. “Stop it, you’re going to hurt everyone—”

“My power is slowly growing. This is not hurting anyone.” Ganondorf assured the boy. “When the time comes we’ll take what is ours.”

Link wiggled feebly in his grip. “No, why can’t you just—stop—”

Ganondorf frowned, tightening his hold. “We had nothing but the harsh sun and winds, while Rauru sat on every resource this bountiful land had to offer. The only way he offered aid was through a vow of fealty, yet he did not have the strength or impetus to rule. Everything about Hyrule is a disgrace - a people who think peace is a more palatable option to the point of laziness and stagnation, an over bloated land full of weak fools! I am a true king, Link, and I will rule this land properly. Nothing will stop that.”

Link’s energy drained out of him, and Ganondorf brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll see, child. When it’s all over, you’ll see how much better it is. Just trust me.”

Link closed his eyes, crying once more. “Let me go.”

“Link—”

“Let me go.”

“No,” Ganondorf said firmly, placing a hand on the boy’s cheek, demanding his attention. “You’re my boy. Your life isn’t a waste, you’re not destined to be cast aside and forgotten. You’re a prince, and I am never letting you go.”

Link watched him, some kind of yearning and desperation fighting the dull look in his eyes, those eyes that used to be so bright with fire and determination, that used to reflect the blood moon beautifully. Ganondorf felt his heart break a little at the sight of it, and his hand shifted to behind the teenager’s head, pulling him forward so he could kiss his forehead. The magic he’d imbued there was a promise of protection, and he would ensure this boy was safe, even from himself. Link trembled under his hold, and he heard him sniffle.

Sighing, he let the boy sink into his embrace once more. “I love you, Link.”

The young boy’s cries carried on the wind, filling the blood stained land. The demon king swayed back and forth, soothing him with gentle hushes. And in the distance, a Hero perked up at the sound of crying, pausing from his meal and grabbing his gear to investigate.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Dawn

I am back because i got home from work and I got no chill! :D @spotaus

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Okay. So why this one? Because i realised it was a while since i wrote a drabble from Horror's point of view and that is criminal and it is a great excuse for me to showcase some stuff from the quiet and very observing sockets of Horror! (also gives me an excuse to not think about the drabble order i got now and that thought i messed it up a bit which I need to think of a solution for)

Ready? Let's go!

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Horror makes sure to carefully close the door to the greenhouse. It is still early but he is used to those.

He enjoys the cool fresh air as he walks towards the house, small basket filled with fresh monster food. Horror is happy he got permission from Crop to harvest the plants in there for their meals.

He quietly opens the door and listens for a moment. He saw Cross leave the farm a little while ago to do his own morning workouts and by the sounds of it the other three are still asleep.

Which is good because he needs his own sleep. Horror knows very well that Dust is the one to wake up with Nightmare if something bothers him in his sleep.

He found the two of them awake and reading a book one too many times for Horror to believe they just had an allnighter.

Horror likes being up early. Maybe strange for him but he got used to it in his old universe. The best time to check his traps and search for food had been in the very early morning, or very late night depending on how you look at it, as most people would be asleep.

It is a leftover habit and he just kept going with it when he joined Nightmare's gang.

He puts the food away in all the right places and goes about getting the ingredients for todays breakfast. He notices the fresh milk and eggs and the choice is obvious. Some pancakes would be great.

He starts preparing the ingredients as he takes the time to measure it all. The milk makes him chuckle.

Watching Cross realises there was a cow had been funny. Finding Cross in a tree shaking with a cow under it had been hilarious. Crop ahd been apologetic as he explained that his cow, Betty (Killer had mutters "of course it is claled betty") was aparently mischievious.

Horror had his doubts but Cross swore that the cow would know when he left the farmhouse. That the cow would stand at the edge of her field and stare at him.

Cross did not go to the east side of the farm anymore. aparently that was Betty's territory in his mind.

Nightmare liked petting Betty however so you have your ups and downs.

Horror mixes the ingredients slowly but surely. Thinking about Nightmare, "Shouldn't you still be in bed?"

silence before a soft mutter "Not tired anymore."

Horror chuckles as he shoots Nightmare a look. He looks fully awake and adorable in his new wool sweater. Horror grins "God powers?"

Nightmare shrugs "I mean probably. I never needed sleep before. that is still new." They hadn't really noticed anything that could be connected to Nightmare's godhood at the moment. Maybe it had gone domant, at least that was Cross's guess. Dust just thinks Nightmare's magic is now focussed on healing instead of weird god shenenigans.

Speaking of healing! Horror gives him a stern look "bandages?"

Nightmare rolls his eye lights but mutters his answer "All still in place and good. Killer replaced them after the bath last night,"

Horror nods. With that secured he relaxes abit "Want to help?"

Nightmare is already by his side and stands on his tiptoes. Horror chuckles as he gives him a look "Need a chair?" he would offer a stepstool but the chair is more stable for him.

Nightmare looks at the counter annoyed before nodding his agreement. Horror grabs a chair and puts it near the counter. Nightmare climbs it easily.

Horror really wants to pick him up but they do have the rule that inside Nightmare should walk around himself to carefully train his spine. It is still much to early to already start carrying him. Horror knows that if any of them start they won't stop.

Nightmare reaches for the ingredients, some fruits for inside the pancakes, before pausing and staring at his sweater.

Nightmare has been very careful with his new gifted clothes. Horror himself is also very careful with the set of clothes Dust got him.

Horror frowns at the food he is making. He really hopes he can quickly find soemthing to do here to earn money. At the moment only Dust has something and it is starting to show, even Killer seems to be getting annoyed with himself over it.

Until now Horror and Cross helped around on Crop's farm. Which he was happy to do as it only seemed fair as a way to repay Crop for letting them stay. Horror has also been learning the basics about farming, farmland and farmwork from Crop. It is still a lot and not everything sticks in his skull, probably falling out of that hole. But he is getting better at it. He hopes with this Crop can maybe get the news out that both of them are more than willing to help around with heavy duty work and get a bit of cash flow.

Killer... Killer has a very specific set of skills. Sadly not specifically useful on a farm. Even if he is great with the animals and can herd pretty much anything, which is very useful but well. Most people won't let you near their animals unless they trust you and Killer is Killer.

Horror just feels bad that Dust is pretty much still Ngihtmare's main caretaker, got the rough end with the backstory they settled on, and has to deal with work to get cash. Only to spend all of it on them all.

Horror can see it is starting to wear him down. He just hopes they can figure out how to balance everything better.

It is another reason he loves these mornings. Because morning time means Dust, and Killer, both sleep in and Horror gets time to supervise their babybones. Horror adores the time wiht Nightmare. Especially when alone because then others don't watch them nervously the whole time.

It is exhausting to be seen as something dangerous even if he knows it is true. It is why they mean so much to him, they never treated him like that. None of them did.

A glance confirms that Nightmare has carefuly rolled up the sleeves and is taking extra care with cutting the fruits, using one of the duller knives which won't be able to cut bone. Horror turns back to getting everything else ready. He has to concentrate to push his intent into the food. He wants them to enjoy and like it. Feel the things he can't say to them.

Horror knows what he wants and feels but also knows none of them are ready to hear it. Horror has known that from the moment he realised what he felt was. The curse of being the only emotional stable one.

He still remembers all the way back near the start of them meeting and chuckles to himself. they did not get along at all.

Nightmare immediantly looks up "What is funny?" he looks adorably confused.

Horror thinks for a moment "Remember when you brought me in?"

Nightmare blinks before giving a slow nod "Yeah... I had hoped you would calm Killer and Dust."

Horror chuckles "Can't believe you thought i could do that."

Ngihtmare shrugs as he finishes up his task and just sits normally on the chair "I mean... It worked." his hands find the glass of juise Horror got him.

Horror pauses for a moment before nodding. Nightmare is kinda right with that one. It hadn't worked right away but he made it work. Mostly because he had had a lot of motivation.

Nightmare, still a fully active god at that point, had offered him that he would slowly but surely fix the food problem in his universe in trade for his service, something about it being too severe for him to be able to instantly fix but if Horror worked for him he would work on it. Horror had figured Nightmare had known about his little weird immortality situation with his own universe's core and accepted.

Turns out he just wanted him to fix whatever had been going on with Killer and Dust. Because they would fight. Constantly. And those two got very close to killing each other a few times.

Horror had eventually managed to somehow form a connection and bond with Killer. It had been rather easy and Horror was able to become friends with him over coworkers. Eventually find him not just annoying but funny. And later think fondly of his antics.

Dust took longer. Which had been a combination of Dust just being an introvert and not looking for connections or at least not in the way that made that clear to Horror. And well Horror heard bits and pieces of what Dust had done and had honestly been disgusted with the idea that Dust just murdered his whole universe and his own brother. Just to fight one human? Just to end a timeloop?

It was well after he managed to get them to stop, or at least contain the damage of, their fighting. Well after he started working for Nightmare more permanently that Horror realised how the multiverse worked.

And how fucking unfair it was.

Because aparently? stupid fate or some shit? That decided how your universe worked. His would always have ended up with a famine and starvation. Killer would always lose control and be controlled, abused and used by the human. Cross would always be the end of his universe. Dust... Dust would always have to kill his universe. No matter what he tried or solution he tried.

It wasn't until later Horror learned that Dust had tried everything. Multiple times. That Dust had learned to play multiple musical instruments in the time of resets. That he had learned to cook, and tinker. He master chemistry. Everything in the hopes it could give him a solution.

But the fates had already decided his ending, much like for all of them there was only one ending possible for them. And in the end locked him in a dead AU make by his own hands when no other options was left. Just like all of them had been.

Horror has to admit it took him a long time to get Dust to admit those things to him. Msotly because Horror had been standoffish before and that he accidentally gave Killer advice to treat Dust like one of the many stray cats he interact with.

He hadn't specifically said that. horror had just told Killer that maybe Dust would like Killer more, or at all, if Killer learned to respect his boundaries. Horror had mentioned how Killer could learn each cat's limits so why not Dust?

Worst part was that it actually worked.

Horror rubs his face "I give him cat advice." his voice sounds pained. Dust had been so mad at them both.

Nightmare nods "I remember. Dust left for three weeks." he snorts "which really is very catlike..." more thoughtful "And then you two got mad at me for not telling you where he went." He blinks and shrugs as he drinks from his orange juice.

Horror ignores the cat comment as he looks at Nightmare "Why didn't you tell us?" Dust had actually been recruited to help Nightmare with the balance. Something Horror only started to do after helping Killer and Dust be less homicidal.

Nightmare blinks at him wiht those wide sockets "I didn't want to force any of you... If you wanted to leave..." he speaks softer and softer "I wasn't going to stop you if you wanted to leave... if you didn't want to stay..."

Horror frowns and picks Nightmare up. He embraces him and hums "I am sorry we left..."

Nightmare shrugs as he pushes clsoer to him "You came back..."

hah... yeah they did. Much like Dust did all that time ago. He was gone for a few weeks before returning after killing Ink bringing back one of his fucking sketchbooks as proof. Obviously killing Ink does little in the long run but it was quite the powermove. Dust had glared at them daring to say anything. Killer of course had muttered something about Dust bringing back a kill much like a cat.

Horror is still not sure how he managed to stop Dust from Killing Killer that day.

Horror puts Nightmare at the table and gets a small yogurt and fruit snack ready for him. Just so he can eat a tiny bit. See how his magic will handle food today. Nightmare starts eating it when offered and that is a good sign. Means his magic is actually sending out the signal that it needs food today.

Horror goes back to flipping pancakes. Horror tries to stay in the here and now but his injury makes his mind likely to wander. and with already having been thinking about them.

He still remembers one of the early missions, after Horror learned about fates cruel games. Dust had still acted the same but Horror had tried to be more friendly. He had been close to giving up on it as clearly it wasn't working as Dust was still standoffish. Only for Dust to pull him out of the way of an attack from Ink, getting hit instead.

Later Horror had demanded why he did that and Dust had just shrugged. He hadn't had an answer for him. It confused Horror to no end. Horror was immortal because of that fact that his magic had been used in the core and bonded to that. Meaning as long as the core in his universe was fine he would return to life.

The gang had known this and Horror knew that Dust knew this. And yet. Dust had heard all of that and looked at the large monster Horror had become saw soemthing worth protecting. Something that needed protection.

Horror thinks he fell a little bit in love that day.

Much like how one day Horror just realised he couldn't stand the idea of not being near Killer or never seeing him again. That even if Killer could be annoying that he didn't wish him any pain or harm.

How it warmed his soul that Killer, and Cross later, would hide behidn him. Seeing him as someone safe that would protect them. See him as someone trustworthy.

Cross, so eager to please and desperate for affection and affirmation. but once he relaxed so smart and funny. Loyal and always ready to help...

But now is not the time to try and see what any of them thought or felt. They are dealing wiht a lot at the moment and they need to concentrate with trying to make staying here work.

The front door opens and Cross walks in quietly. He sneaks a glance at them and smiles when Horror catching him looking. Cross waves to Nightmare "Hey guys. All good?"

Horror nods "Nightmare helped." he flips another pancake as Nightmare drinks his juice with a smug little smile.

Cross grins "Good to hear. I will quickly get cleaned up and help. Dust and Killer?"

Nightmare hums "Still asleep." and he sips his juice again.

Cross nods "Good to know. be back in a bit" and he goes towards the bathroom. The pipes groan softly as Cross no doubt turns on the shower.

Horror finishes the last pancake and gets to wrok on getting the drinks and coffee ready.

Another day for them to figure out how this will work. Horror is just happy they are all here, everything else can wait as long as they stick together.

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