#but why should you be expected to enjoy a large strange animal crawling all over you

[subterfugespecialist]

Led to You

As a child, everyone finds their "soulmate guide," an animal meant to lead your soulmate to you. And one morning, Janus and Remus wake up to see a stranger's guide in their homes.

Written for Day 3 of @dukeceitweek​ : snakes/bugs

AO3 link

Pairings: Dukeceit, Familial Creativitwins, Platonic Loceit, Moceit, and Dukexiety

Warnings: Some Remus-typical violent thoughts, scorpions/tarantulas/snakes

Word count: 4228

Janus woke up to something brushing against his hand. He groaned and batted Dusa away while muttering "Five more minutes"

But when it brushed against his hand again, he noticed it was definitely not the headbutt from a snake. His eyes snapped open and he glanced down to see a fucking scorpion on his bed holy shit-

If his roommate asked if that was him that made the high pitched squeal that morning, no it wasn't.

He scrambled out of bed to look around for something to try and trap the scorpion under, but he didn't want to get near it what the fuck-

Janus paused. The scorpion was staring at him. At least, it looked like the scorpion was staring at him. It at least didn't look like it was trying to attack him.

Did... did it wave?

Now that Janus had calmed down, he noticed the scorpion was a deep, emerald green. Janus didn't know much about bugs, never had a reason to, but he never heard of a green scorpion before.

Could it be...?

"Hey, Logan?"

Footsteps came from the kitchen down the hallway.

"I was wondering when you were going to call me in," Logan said as he opened the door, his deep blue raven perched on top of his head, "What happened?"

"Can scorpions be green?"

"Why would I know that, Janus?"

"Because you know everything."

"Why are you asking?"

Janus pointed to his bed, and when Logan looked down he jumped back with a startled shout, disturbing the raven on his head.

The scorpion turned towards Logan and, yeah, the scorpion definitely waved.

After calming himself (and his bird), Logan slowly approached Janus' bed.

"...While I have heard of scorpions glowing green under ultraviolet light-"

"Oh, so you did know, you asshole-"

"I haven't seen a scorpion that looks like this, no," Logan said, crouching down next to the bed, "Is Dusa here? She was not under her heat lamp."

"Dusa? Come here, darling."

Dusa didn't crawl out of hiding, and Janus' room and the living room under her heat lamp were the only places she liked to be first thing in the morning.

"I guess she isn't."

Logan's raven, Minerva, hopped off his head onto the bed to examine the scorpion. She leaned down and the scorpion gently bumped heads. Minerva let out a happy chirp.

"My soulmate guide is a scorpion."

"Fascinating," Logan muttered as the scorpion and Minerva playfully chased each other around the bed, "I haven't heard of a bug guide before."

Janus glanced at the clock and put his hand down on the bed. The scorpion immediately ran onto his palm.

"I have class in an hour," he said as he cupped his hands and lifted the scorpion, "So how do you feel about business, corporate, and commercial law?"

 ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Remus woke up to Roman screaming. After a moment of debating whether to go back to sleep or not, he decided that, yeah, he probably should go check on the well being of his brother. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Remus trudged towards the living room to see a snake curled up on the couch, with Roman's robin perched on its head.

"Peter, please come here!" Roman pleaded. But the little bird seemed perfectly content on top of the snake. The snake started to slither off the couch, making roman shout again. The robin flew onto Roman's hand and he relaxed a bit as he held the bird to his chest.

Roman took his gaze off his brother back to the snake and- oh look at that it. It was headed towards him.

"Remus stop standing there what is wrong with you-"

The snake was around four feet long with yellow-and-black stripes. Quite gorgeous, really.

Remus decided he wanted to pick it up.

He knelt down and outstretched his arm (as Roman continued to shout at him), letting the snake crawl up and around his shoulders. The snake nuzzled its head against Remus' cheek.

Roman stared at him, eyes wide and mouth opened.

"What?"

"You're insane."

"And you're a chickenshit. You've lived with a scorpion as a roommate your whole life and you're gonna freak out over a snake guide?"

"How was I supposed to know it was a guide!?"

Remus stepped over and placed a hand on Roman's shoulder. "...You're a moron."

Roman shoved him.

"Peter was fine. And we should be expecting to find strange animals in our apartment at this age."

"Oh, piss off to find your soulmate and stop bothering me for a while."

"Gladly."

Remus turned to go back to his bedroom.

"...I'm really happy for you, you know."

Remus stopped and groaned. "Roman, no sentimental bullshit before nine."

"But I mean it. You deserve this."

"...Thanks, you idiotic bastard."

Roman gave him a gentle smile as Peter hopped onto Remus' head and nestled into his wild mess of bedhead.

"Also you screamed like a little girl."

"Fuck off-"

Remus cackled as Roman shoved him again. Peter gave Remus a petulant little peck on the top of his head.

Peter flew back over to Roman while Remus held out his arms go guide the snake in front of his face.

"Are you gonna lead me to my soulmate?" Remus asked with a large grin, which only grew wider when the snake nodded.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Janus was very much enjoying having a scorpion on his shoulder. People instinctively stepped away from him, even more so than with Dusa, meaning he didn't have to fight his way through the crowded sidewalks.

The scorpion had been upset that Janus didn't follow its directions. It scuttled frantically from one shoulder to the other. It calmed only when Janus explained he had to go to class, but would follow its directions immediately after.

Janus was stopped in his tracks, though, by a corgi running up to him and jumping on his knees.

"Hi, Peachy," Janus said as he scratched behind her ears. The scorpion crawled down his arm in curiosity.

if someone's guide was a common house pet like a dog or cat, they were issued a special white collar to show they were a soulmate guide to be allowed in public places along with service animals.

But this dog didn't have such a collar. She was just a dog.

"Hey, Janus!" someone called out. Janus looked up to see Patton jogging down the sidewalk, his guide right beside him.

"Hello, Patton. Hello, Cookie," Janus said to his friend and the capybara standing next to him.

Patton had been Logan's friend first, and Janus hadn't been too keen on his... optimistic personality at first. But dammit, the guy's too sweet.

"Miss Peachy! What have I told you about running off?" Patton said with a light scowl as he reattached her leash. But of course, unlike a guide, she couldn't actually understand. She jumped off Janus' legs to go lick the capybara's face.

Janus didn't understand the appeal of keeping animals that weren't your guide, but to each their own, he supposed.

Patton's eyes fell to Janus' shoulder, and after the instinctive fear vanished a large smile took over his face.

"Oh! You've got your soulmate guide!!"

"Yep," Janus said as he resumed walking down the sidewalk. Patton followed.

"Ohmygosh, this is so exciting!" Patton exclaimed, practically bouncing as he walked, "How long have you been out trying to find them? Do you think you're close?"

"I'm going to class, actually."

"Really? Gosh, you've got more self control than me," Patton laughed, "I don't think I'd be able to wait."

"I've got exams soon, Patton. I can't risk missing anything."

"Oh, I'm not trying to change your mind! You do what you think is best. But aren't you excited?"

Janus was convinced Patton was smiling so hard his face was going to get stuck like that. But when Janus didn't answer immediately, his frown dampened.

"Hey, are you okay, Jan?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, honey. You're nervous, aren't you?" Patton asked as his smile turned empathetic, which Janus thought was almost worse than excited.

The scorpion nuzzled against his neck, which was an odd sensation for sure, but Janus appreciated the sentiment.

"Of course I'm not nervous. I have no reason to be."

Patton tilted his head down slightly and gave him that look. The soft-smile dad-friend look that meant you were about to be comforted, whether you like it or not. Janus sighed.

"Okay, fine. A little," he conceded. He probably should be worried about how close that scorpion and its stinger was against his neck as it cuddled closer. But he'd never heard of a soulmate guide killing anyone, so he chose not to.

"Oh, sweetie," Patton said in that annoyingly soft tone. He wrapped an arm around Janus' and led him over to a bench. Peachy promptly hopped up to sit on Patton's lap while Cookie plopped against Patton's legs, giving Janus a soft nudge with her nose.

"It's not a big deal," Janus huffed, "I just think its reasonable to be nervous about meeting some stranger I am now expected to spend my life with."

"You have every right to feel what you're feeling. Such a big life change can be scary. But I'm certain your soulmate will understand your reservations and will go at any pace you're comfortable with."

While yes, the idea of a soulmate was a pleasant one, it was also a bit... concerning, to say the least. Janus was quite happy with where he was in life, and he wasn't too keen on the idea of something changing it all completely.

He was a bit surprised Logan wasn't his soulmate. He was the perfect roommate: neat, consistent, punctual. And Janus felt enough fondness for Logan that he was sort of expecting to wake up one day and have their guides just push them into each others' arms.

Alas, apparently not.

Janus bit his lip, debating. It would be good to talk about his worries. And as much as Janus pretended, he was actually quite fond of Patton.

"Patton, what if we don't work?"

"What do you mean, hon?"

"This person is supposedly meant to complete me. To make me better. But I'm perfectly fine the way I am now. I don't feel like I'm missing anything. What if I meet them and they just want to... to fix me? Because I'm expected to change for them?"

"Janus, your soulmate is meant to compliment you. Not complete you. You aren't missing any parts of yourself, because you're already your own complete person. And you certainly don't need to be 'fixed.'"

The scorpion crawled down to Janus' hands, and Janus ran his thumb over its back to pet it.

"But what if... what if we meet and nothing happens? Everyone always talks about their 'immediate romantic connections' but I don't buy it. What if we're doomed to always be strangers? After all, I'm not particularly good with people, Pat. What did I call you when we first met? A-"

"An annoying, self-righteous, dependent puppy with no boundaries?"

Janus winced. "Yeah. That."

A gentle smile grew on Patton's face as he held his arms out for a hug. Janus hesitated for only a moment before accepting.

"You don't need to worry about anything. Soulmates don't always mean romantic. Even if you don't feel romance at first, even if you never do, you two are going to share a tight bond and a special relationship different from anyone else you know. Nothing gets to take that from you."

"...Thank you, Patton. For taking the time to talk to me."

"Of course! What are friends for?"

Patton gave him a soft smile, and Janus gave him a rare, genuine one in return.

"Oh! I hope I didn't make you late for class!"

Janus looked at his watch. "I'll be fine if I hurry. Thank you. Again. Goodbye, Cookie. Bye, Peachy."

Peachy didn't react. Cookie gave him one last gentle nudge.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The snake in Remus' arms couldn't guide in front of him like Roman's bird would or any sort of animal with wings or legs. While he could let it slither on the ground, it would be dangerous with how busy the sidewalk was. And Remus really didn't need to return the snake to his soulmate all squished.

So it was wrapped around his shoulders, reaching down his arms, and rested in his hands, guiding him down the street like a compass.

The snake turned back to look at Remus.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked as he kept walking, the snake shaking its head urgently. Only for someone to grab the back of his jacket and yank him back, pulling him off the street and narrowly missing oncoming traffic.

"Watch where you're going, asshole," the person muttered. Remus turned, ready to start shit, but instead broke into a goofy grin when he saw Virgil.

"Hey, emo!"

Besides Roman, Virgil was Remus' only friend. Most people were too put off by Remus', well, everything.

And Virgil had been too, at first. But the two bonded over their soulmate's guides being creatures most of the public feared and the stigma that came with that. And now he was used to Remus' bullshit.

"And hey, Helena," he said to the tarantula sitting on Virgil's shoulder.

"So. You found your soulmate guide," Virgil said. The snake reached over to inspect Virgil and he scratched under its chin, the snake then nuzzling against Virgil's cheek.

"On your way to find your soulmate?" he asked as the snake and tarantula started inspecting each other.

"Yep!"

"Are you nervous?"

"Nope!"

Virgil squinted at him, searching for any sign of dishonesty, but all he saw was the normal, excitable Remus.

"Shit, you're lucky, man. I've been psyching myself out over meeting mine."

"But aren't they, like, made for you?"

"Supposedly. But you know me. I can't stop thinking about all the bad things. Like what if they don't like me?"

"Well, that would be a them problem."

Virgil let out an amused huff. "Really? You wouldn't be bothered?"

"Well, yeah," Remus said as he watched the snake and Helena play peekaboo behind Virgil's neck. "But like, it's not like I'm not used to people not liking me. And if I don't know this person, what would I lose, really? So actually, this can only go up for me."

Virgil cast him a sad smile. Remus hated it.

"It'll be good for you," Virgil said as the two crossed the street. "You are a strange fucking creature, but you're a good dude. Mostly. Partially? Mostly."

"It'll be good for you, too, then. Cause you're better than me."

Virgil nudged him with his shoulder.

"Ultimately, I know it will be. My brain just hates me."

"You and me both, emo."

The snake curled back against Remus after booping Helena and resumed its role as soulmate compass.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Remus ended up on his old school campus.

Ew.

He had dropped out, and he had hoped he would never have to step foot back here again. Oh, well, C'est la vie, or whatever the fuck.

Though you needed to swipe a student ID to unlock the doors, Remus knew if he yanked hard enough the doors would give. He had managed to make it through a whole semester without his ID after he lost it.

A grimace grew on Remus' face as he walked back into the Taylor Building for the first time in over a year. It was named after his least favorite professor, and he had a lot of bad memories in this building.

Time to find his soulmate and get the fuck out.

He was just about to head upstairs when someone shouted at him.

"Excuse me! Only students and faculty are allowed in this building."

Yeah, Remus supposed he didn't look like the typical law majors that took up a majority of the classes here. Not with his spiked leather jacket and ripped jeans. He turned to see who had yelled at him.

And speak of the devil.

"Hey, you're Taylor!"

The man straightened his shoulders.

"Yes, I am. Were you a student of mine?"

"Yeah! I hated your fuckin' guts."

The man looked like he had been slapped before a sneering look of recognition appeared on his face.

"Remus Kingsley."

"Aw, I'm flattered you remember me. Especially since I dropped out. You encouraged me to, remember? Right after you called me a, what was it, 'moronic good-for-nothing- imbecile that would never amount to anything?'"

"You need to leave immediately."

Taylor had reached out to grab Remus but he bolted up the stairs, making sure he had a tight grip on the snake.

He wasn't about to give up on his soulmate that easy.

As they ran down the upstairs hallway, Taylor continued to shout at him. But Remus wasn't worried. He was clearly much faster.

He turned to see the disheveled man chasing behind him and laughed. This was kinda fun!

Then he had to turn around and run face first into the chest of a campus officer.

Well, bitchtits.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Janus' class was nothing out of the ordinary, except that his surrounding classmates had inched as far away from this as they could, and Janus was enjoying the extra space.

The scorpion had been still on his shoulder for the most part, settling in where Janus' neck and shoulder met. But now it stood, rushing down Janus' arm to the desk and running around in circles.

"What is it?" he whispered.

Right after he asked that, shouting was heard down the hallway. The professor and students all turned their heads in time to see someone running past the door, laughing, with Professor Taylor chasing after them.

"...Okay, then," The professor said, "Now back to your review material."

Janus hardly listened as the professor spoke. He was more focused on the scorpion that kept switching between running in circles and scuttling onto Janus' hand.

When the professor dismissed the class, Janus hung back. He preferred to let the crowd of students leave before him instead of trying to fight his way through.

By the time he walked into the hallway, it was mostly empty. Janus was holding the scorpion in the palm of his hands and it jumped to get his attention. It gestured with its body to go down the hallway.

"Alright, let's go."

The scorpion led him down a couple of hallways, and Janus heard shouting and the sound of running footsteps against the tile.

A man ran around the corner, his neon green combat boots skidding on the floor as he tried to stop. He had a mustache above a wild grin, with a streak of white through his hair.

He also had Dusa wrapped around his neck.

Janus stared. The man stopped in front of him.

"Fluffy!" he said to the scorpion in Janus' hands, who was alternating between running in circles again and hopping in excitement.

He looked up at Janus with a manic grin. "Hey! I'm Remus. I'd love to stop and chat but I'm afraid I've found myself wrapped up with something."

Two campus officers rounded the corner.

What the fuck.

Janus took the scorpion - Fluffy - in one hand and held it against his chest, grabbing Remus' wrist with the other and bolting.

Remus let out a delighted laugh as he let Janus pull him down the hallway and down a set of stairs.

Jesus, what did Janus get himself into?

He was heading towards one of the student parking lots, cutting through the Union. There would be lots of students and he hoped they could get lost in the crowd. But with two idiots running across the yard with a snake and a scorpion, people were parting a path for them. Which made them more obvious but at least let them through.

When Janus looked behind him, he couldn't see the officers, but he didn't want to risk it. It wasn't exactly hard to identify them: one with a large scar on the left side of his face and the other, with, well, a lot of fucking identifiable traits.

Logan would probably get mad at him for this, but Janus was sure he would be forgiven that same day if he made Logan thumbprint cookies. So Janus let go of Remus' hand to dig in his pocket, finding the spare key to Logan's car he gave Janus only for emergencies. Janus would consider this an emergency. Logan probably would not.

Janus unlocked the car and Remus got in without question. Remus hardly stopped laughing.

Great. So his soulmate was a maniac.

Janus pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, gunning it out of there as Remus shouted in excitement.

"Fuck, yeah, dude!" he yelled. His seat-belt was not on, by the way.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Trespass, technically. But it would've been fine if that bitchass Taylor hadn't come along. And then I maybe assaulted an officer, but could it really be assault if I just whacked him when he tried to grab me? Anyways I already have three offenses - I guess four now - and I didn't want to go to jail or anything so I started running-"

"God, I'm going to miss my next class," Janus groaned, "What if they try to find me tomorrow?"

"How's your track record?"

"It's clean. Unlike someone, I don't get caught."

"Psh, then you're probably fine. you're a white law student."

Janus took a deep breath as he tried to collect his thoughts. What was even happening right now?

"...Okay, I may have fucked this up," Remus started, and he at least had the decency to sound sheepish, "I didn't mean to drag you into this mess, even though I was purposefully... searching... for you... Shit, I didn't even think about that. I don't think a lot, actually. I mean, I wasn't even paying attention on the way to find you. I almost got hit by a car. Could you imagine, Fluffy leading you to me only to find your soulmate and guide squashed by a car and our blood and guts everywhere-"

"Remus."

"Sorry, sorry," he groaned as his hands went to grab his hair, "I was really excited to meet you, and even when being chased by police my dumb brain only wanted to focus on finding you because I don't have many friends cause most people get weirded out since I can't control my thoughts or my mouth so, like, all the weird shit that pops int my brain just comes right out and I was really looking forward to meeting someone who wouldn't leave-"

"Remus, it's okay," Janus interrupted, "Deep breaths, okay?"

Remus took a couple deep breaths.

Then Janus let out a short laugh. He felt bad for laughing, but he couldn't help it.

"...What?"

"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you. The situation just caught up to me: You're my soulmate, we just ran from the police, and we just took my friend's car and wow. Can't say this is how I expected this to go."

Remus grimaced. "Sorry."

"No, actually. This is better than the sappy shit I was thinking about."

Remus perked up a bit. "Yeah?"

"Is it always like this with you? Am I sentenced to spend my life digging you out of trouble, now?"

"Yeah, probably."

Janus laughed again as he pulled into the parking lot of a shopping center. He had no clear idea where he was going, and at least this place had plenty of people and plenty of parking. When he stopped, the scorpion hopped off his shoulder and scuttled to Remus.

"Hey, Fluffy," he said with a smile as he put the scorpion in his lap.

"Hey, actually, let's talk about that," Janus said, "You named your scorpion Fluffy?"

"Yeah. I named him that to trick people. Scared the shit out of my mom when he first showed up. 'Hey, meet Fluffy,' then I pull a scorpion out from behind my back. It never gets old."

Janus couldn't stop smiling, and he was sure his face was disgustingly close to Patton's in terms of fondness, but he couldn't do anything to help that.

"I'm Janus. The lovely lady on your shoulders is Dusa."

"Janus. That's a badass name," Remus said as he scritched Dusa under her chin.

"Thank you for your help today, Dusa," Janus said with a grin as she slithered back over to wrap around Janus, "And you, too, Fluffy."

"Fuck yeah. Thanks guys. Shit, Dusa was awesome. I'm pretty sure that while I was running, she flicked her tail to open a door and it hit one of the officers in the face."

Janus glanced down at her. "You are an enabler."

She stuck her tongue out.

"Well, since we're already here, would you like to go on a date or something? It seems like you have stories to tell," Janus said as he gestured to the mall in front of them.

"Yeah," Remus said with a fond grin, "Are you hungry? I'm starving. Wanna go to the food court. On me. We'll have to be careful, though. I'm pretty sure I'm banned from this mall."

Janus stared at him before bursting out laughing again. This was his life now, and how exciting that thought was.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to."

.

.

Thanks for reading! Requests are open in my inbox. Hope you enjoyed <3

#sanders sides #dukeceit week #janus sanders #remus sanders #dukeceit #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #platonic loceit #creativitwins #platonic moceit #platonic dukexiety #janus fic #remus fic #dukeceit fic

[wrathandgreed]

(I hope requests are still open) So ive been thinking. How about the brothers reaction to MC taking a large step away from them when ever one of them raises their hand up. It could be as simple as a high five. MC used to be in a abusive relationship and is paranoid about getting hit

Note: (For the record, I don’t know if you sent me this on purpose - I’ve never done requests; I’ve literally just put out my very first OM headcanons. But I figured I could try. I’ve never been in an abusive relationship, but a number of my friends have. I really hope I can do this one respect - if anything about this is not on the level, please let me know! Also, if I missed a trigger warning in the tags, or tagged this wrong, let me know. Also, for the record, I tend to like soft!Brothers and I really wanted them to try and be better - not put the onus on MC to “get over it” or anything.)

Second note: After writing this, I’m not sure that most of these guys would be a good choice for an abuse survivor! 

Third note: I am NOT good at keeping things short and, as usual, I went overboard with Asmodeus. Like, it should be its own fic at this point. But write what you want to read, right?

Warnings: references to domestic abuse, both physical and verbal. References to suicide baiting. Uncensored swearing.

~5K words

Lucifer

A strange choice; his perfectionism and exacting behavior sometimes make you remember how it was back in the human world; everything had to be JUST SO….or else.

And he’s threatened to kill you. Twice.

But there’s something inherently decent about him - and you live for the rare moments he laughs.

His perfectionism usually isn’t even about you, so you just kind of….ignore it.

You’re doing some of your RAD homework in Lucifer’s study.

It’s quiet there.

And, while he won’t do the work for you, he’ll definitely help when you’re stuck.

Also you can give him tea and soothing when he (inevitably)  gets upset at his paperwork - Mammon’s bills, Asmo’s bills, Satan’s bills (hey, dark magic books are expensive).

You start hearing the shifting and muttering that herald the beginning of the rant.

You gather the tea and walk towards his desk.

“Devil’s sake!” Lucifer suddenly snaps out, slamming hand on his desk as he reads yet another ridiculous piece of paper.

It’s not at you, the anger isn’t at you, you KNOW it’s not at you, but you freeze anyway.

Slammed hands on desks, punched holes in walls, hands on you, always hands - 

The cup of tea hits the floor and you’re out of the room before Lucifer can even look up.

He’s seen it all in your paperwork - the police reports, the restraining order, the lists of injuries - so he puts it all together before his study door closes behind you.

He knows better than to go after you immediately. You’ll want some solitude, some quiet on your own, to steady yourself a little.

If he goes after you now, it might frighten you more. Looks like hunting.

You need to know he’s calm, that he’s not acting or reacting out of emotion.

He takes his time cleaning up the spilled tea, straightening his papers.

When he shows up at your room, he has a mug of hot chocolate.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything. You made a mess in his study, and he’s such a stickler for everything being neat. He was angry before, but he’ll be even more angry now.

“No, I’m sorry,” he returns, and offers you the chocolate.

(You blink once. Has the Avatar of Pride ever apologized before? If so, it was never in your hearing.)

The two of you talk quietly for a time. He insists that you don’t need to apologize - ever. He insists that, while he appreciates the tea-and-break routine, it’s 100% not your responsibility to control his anger. It’s his. He says that his anger isn’t good for him anyway (just look at Satan) and he needs to take a break when that hot feeling starts. 

Maybe he should start scheduling breaks; setting timers on his D.D.D. so that he no longer works long enough at once to let it all get to him.

He doesn’t want you afraid of him.

Mammon

Mammon is pretty much the only demon who HASN’T threatened your life. He often sounds irritated, but he’s never even sounded angry at you.

If anything, he’s a mush and an abuse victim himself. So he gets where you’re coming from, and tries really hard.

So you shouldn’t be afraid of him.

But….he moves too quickly. He’s constantly jumping from one idea to another, one topic to another, one emotion to another. And that’s just emotionally.

You can’t trust where his hands will be. Ever. And that’s not a sex thing.

Sometimes, his protection of you makes you feel safe. If anyone hurts you, Mammon will hurt them a thousand times worse.

He’s funny, and his hands on you are gentle, and once you tell him about your past, he tries really hard not to go back to his “stupid human” habit, because it hurts your feelings.

But sometimes, his protection feels like obsession. Why were you talking to that guy? C’mere, you’re MY human.

Then, inevitably, the tug on your hand or arm or waist, pulling you closer.

It starts simply enough.

You’re playing video games in his room. He’s not as much of a gamer as Levi, but he enjoys them.

Especially ones where you can be competitive or drive cars really fast.

He’s been getting more and more excited, coiled like a spring. And it’s from enjoyment, not anger, but that level of energy, in your experience, explodes at some point.

You get quieter, but that only makes him more boisterous. He wants you to join in the fun! C’mon MC, did you see that?! It was awesome!

After a really impressive win, he shouts in triumph and suddenly his hand is in front of your face for a high-five.

You recoil and hit the floor, crab-crawling backwards before you can stop yourself.

His look of complete confusion, in different circumstances, might be funny. He actually looks at his hand like he doesn’t recognize it.

He drops to the floor too, “Babe? What’s wrong? Y’okay?” And he reaches out a hand towards you.

When you flinch, he gets it.

He sits on the floor, stuttering out apologies, not even finishing one sentence before starting another. He makes sure he’s cross-legged, leaning back on his hands - non threatening, leaning away, hands not hidden, but not prominent, and in a position it would take him time to move from. 

When you start crying, he can’t maintain that pose and crawls towards you, pulling you into a hug.

If you resist, you know he’ll let you go. And that’s why you just curl into him instead, crying out on his shoulder while he holds you close - but not tightly.

“I jus’ need ya to talk to me….let me know if I’m gettin’ to be too much. I know I’m loud. Just….. jus’ remind me, I’ll never be mad.”

Leviathan

Boy already has anger problems.

Envy’s kind of prone to it, you know?

On the one hand, he literally attacked you over a piece of TSL memorabilia.

On the other, he’s generally harmless the rest of the time.

He’s meek and shy and terrified of touching you - so, 95% of the time, you feel super safe with him.

When you wake with a nightmare, when something jump-starts your fear response, he talks you through it, easily abandoning whatever game or anime he’s involved in.

He’ll only touch you when you ask, or when you reach for him first.

But then there’s the MMOs.

You know you should leave when he starts getting mad. Not in a victim-blame sense, but for your own mental health it’s probably not a good idea to be around him when he raids.

He ALWAYS gets mad.

You’re sitting in his room, so involved in your handheld that you forget it’s his raiding night.

(Usually you make study plans with Satan, or shopping plans with Asmo on his raiding nights. You don’t want him to give them up; he enjoys them, but it’s not good for you to be around.)

After finally completing a tough level, you pop your headphones off just in time to hear Levi swear loudly.

You go still as a string of swear-filled trash talk fills the room. Things you’d never expect shy, needy Levi to say. 

You know it really is just trash-talk - the threats of violence are just too absurd. Rip off their arms and use their own fingers to bowl their skull like a bowling ball? Really?

Also this is LEVI. Levi? The demon who needed you to taunt Mammon about his credit card because he couldn’t do it himself? He might be Admiral of Hell’s Navy and all, but he’s not exactly threatening.

You get to your feet, a little shaken but ready to just walk out of the room. It’s raid night, and this is why you don’t hang out on raid nights. You’re not comfortable around other people’s anger.

You’re halfway across the room when Levi suddenly shouts in frustration and throws his controller on the floor.

And you’re out the door.

Levi just glimpses you as he’s reaching to pick up his miraculously-unshattered controller from the floor.

“Henry?” He calls out, just a second too late.

With only one moment of hesitation, he logs out of his raid and goes to follow you.

You had less than ten seconds head start, but it takes him almost twenty minutes to find you, sitting out in the garden, gazing at nothing.

“MC?” He calls quietly. He doesn’t want to sneak up on you.

A single blink, and the tiniest flash of fear - he left his game to follow you. 

Calculation: extreme concern - or extreme anger. 

Conclusion: Undetermined.

So you wait.

“Are you ok?”

Okay, so not mad. “Aren’t you raiding?” You ask, instead of answering. You’re not ok, but you’re also not in the mood to talk about it.

“I, uh, h-had a, uh, power outage?” Even he doesn’t sound convinced, and you snort. Levi only has three modes: simple, stuttering, and verbose. Thankfully he goes with simple. “You ran out. I was worried.”

You debate brushing his concern off, but he deserves better than that.

“I’m not good with anger. Even if it’s not directed at me.”

“Oh.” Levi pauses as he considers. He knows the basics of what’s happened. “I - I mean, I could, you know, NOT - “

“No,” you say quickly and lean in to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to change anything. Do your raids, make stupid threats to stupid players. Just….warn me to leave first?”

Levi nods, but he skips the rest of his raid to stargaze with you in the garden, arms wrapped around you from behind as he points out different Devildom stars and constellations to you. You get a lecture on how Devildom stars are used in Devildom sailing. It’s actually kind of interesting.

Satan

Okay, seriously? The Avatar of Wrath? Author speaking here, I literally can’t picture a worse combination than an MC who’s still recovering from domestic abuse to date the AVATAR OF WRATH.

Like, yeah, he has good control over himself, but he also loses his temper in a moment’s notice.

He has CANONICALLY tortured people for calling him strange.

He flips out with no warning and destroys parts of the house and his brothers just let him do it because he’s too powerful to control when he rages.

I can absolutely see MC falling for the quiet intelligence, the consideration, and so forth, but witnessing one (1) single rage should be enough to tell them that this relationship won’t be good for their mental health.

Let’s not even talk about the (again, canonical) desire for domination, power play, pet play, etc, that kind of defines our boy.

I mean, I love Satan. Out of all the bros, he’s the only one I could imagine legit dating in real life.

But I’m a little ball of rage myself, and I have no problem with anger, mine or anyone else’s.

And the fandom (including me) can totally play cute and love on their “soft little angy boi” all they want, and he definitely has soft, sensitive sides, and I may actively choose to ignore the whole domination/power play/etc when I fic or headcanon because I really love soft!Satan….. but he’s not.

I can’t even make a headcanon, because I cannot picture a situation in which this is actually GOOD for MC.

Because no matter how hard he’ll try and control it, and how much his rage probably won’t be directed at them, I just keep picturing “It won’t happen again” except it will, and it’ll just wind up being flashbacks to the number of times “It won’t happen again” ended in black eyes or an ER visit back in the human world.

And MC walking on eggshells for eternity to avoid setting him off, and how is that healthy?

Asmodeus

Another decent choice for MC, at least on the surface.

King of consent over here, at least how I picture him. Especially for someone he cares about.

Always accepts “no” about literally anything. Don’t want sex? We’ll cuddle. Cuddling a little confining? Holding hands is cool. Really don’t want to be touched at all right now? Gossip and tea! 

You were coming to really care about the Avatar of Lust, and you believed what Simeon said about him - how much he desperately needed love and affection. You got it; you needed some, too. 

I mean, even if he’d been a bit of a jerk, he’d warmed up significantly since the pact, so new that it still burned on your skin, was formed.

But even Asmodeus wasn’t without faults. However much he focuses on love, he can sometimes, really be….mean.

You’re standing on a balcony in Diavolo’s castle, having escaped for a few moments.

He’d always been catty, gossipy, filled with drama, but the genuine affection and likability of him sometimes made you ignore it.

His constant mocking of Luke you could put down to the whole angel/demon conflict. 

His occasional snapping or poking at his brothers you could put down to being stuck in the same house with the same people for literal eons.

The only thing that might make up for your awful existence is if you just ended it.

The words haunt you as you stand looking up at Devildom’s endless nighttime.

How many times did you hear similar words yourself? How useless you were, how much of a burden, no way you’d survive on your own without him, and he didn’t even want you that much. Why didn’t you just go kill yourself?

Dammit, you think to yourself as Asmo steps out on to the balcony.

“Darling! Why are you out here all alone? Or are you waiting for some company?”

When he goes to put his arms around you, you just say “no.” Simply, quietly, emotionlessly.

Asmo circles around to look at you. “Something wrong, sweetness?”

You take a breath. Another. You consider swallowing it, again, don’t want to start a fight. Back down, put on a smile, ignore it.

But realize you can’t. You spent years dealing with this crap, and you’re not going to do it again.

“You’re mean, Azzy.” Your voice is quieter than you expected. You look up into the demon’s eyes. To his credit, he looks deeply confused and, as you take a step away from him, hurt. Before he can open his mouth, you continue, “How could you say that to Mammon?”

“Are you defending MAMMON?” He asks, torn between incredulity and anger.

“Right now? Yes. But also Luke, Lucifer, and everyone else you talk shit to. Or about. He’s your brother. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to hear that out of someone you love?”

Dismissively, “Oh, if it actually bothered him, he’d - “

“What? Beat you up? That’s not like him. So he takes it. And takes it, and takes it, until, because it’s all he hears, he believes it. And then why fight back? Why defend yourself, if you’re such a piece of shit? You deserve it, after all, right?”

You don’t even realize it, but you’re crying by this point. And you’re mad. All the mad you couldn’t fling at your abuser before is filling you now. You don’t even know if you’re talking about Mammon or yourself anymore. Maybe both of you.

“And even though he’s beaten down, you keep going. When he won’t respond to the usual anymore, when that doesn’t seem to hurt him, rile him up, you go worse. You told your brother, who you claim to love, to kill himself. We’re barely even friends. So what happens when I annoy you? Should I just go die now, save you the trouble of telling me to do it later?”

You step right up to him, into his personal space, almost nose to nose, and stare directly into his red-yellow eyes. “Is this who you are, Asmodeus?”

Asmo has gone from defensive; incredulous and angry, to baffled, hurt and worried in just a few minutes. But at your last, pointed question, he jerks his head back as though you slapped him. Not knowing what to say or do, he reaches for you again, but you dodge his hand and brush past him back into the castle.

You get Solomon, the only one who won’t ask questions, to switch rooms with you. (Luke is thrilled; teaching him to play gin rummy actually cheers you up a little.)

For a few weeks, you and Asmodeus pass each other in the House without speaking.  Then, one evening, there’s a knock on your door and Asmo slides into your room.

He looks….well, not awful; he could never look awful. But the glow is gone from his skin and, unless you’re mistaken, he hasn’t bothered doing his hair. He looks like he’s missed some sleep.

You look up from your homework and watch him. Silently. It’s not your job to fill the silence anymore.

More than most of them, Asmo despises being vulnerable. But it’s fix this or not, and the pact is pushing him to be on good terms. At least, he blames the pact. It’s easier than acknowledging how much the weeks of silence have worn on him. How awful it was watching you walk to class with Mammon instead of him. 

And no matter what, he values honesty in his relationships, no matter what kind of relationship. So he would be honest.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly.

Lean back in your chair, hands folded. Waiting.

“I don’t know….if that’s who I am. Maybe it is.”

“Why are you here, Asmo? What do you want?”

“I want you to stop ignoring me!”

Steady face. “I spent too many years having someone talk to me the way you spoke to your brother. The rest of it - the gossip, the side comments, the cattiness…. it’s not your best side. In fact, it’s pretty unattractive when it’s mean, but I could handle it. But I can’t handle cruelty. I don’t want to be around it anymore.”

A pause. “What is my best side then?”

Disgusted, you chuck a pen in his direction. “Fuck’s sake, Asmo. Get out.”

“No! Not, not that. If that’s my bad side, the **unattractive** part, then what’s the other half?”

You search his face, but he doesn’t seem to be fishing for compliments. If anything, he looks….lost. Confused. And you wonder if anyone’s ever said anything to him, good or bad, about who he was; not what he looked like or how he fucked. 

It’s not your responsibility to psychoanalyze a demon, you think to yourself. But you’re not someone to walk away. You wonder how it’s possible for someone to be thousands of years old, and know less about themselves than you know about yourself in just a few decades. And you have nothing to lose by being kind.

“You can be wonderfully kind, Asmo, and generous. You want to see the beauty in everyone and everything. As nasty as you can be with it, I’ll give you points for honesty. You connect with people, and the times you’re actually genuinely interested in them is….charming.”

He’s silent for a few minutes. Then he nods, as if he’s made a decision. “Okay. Tomorrow, after RAD, do you want to go for bubble tea?” At your confusion, he just smiles and continues, “It’s like skin care, isn’t it? Attractiveness requires effort, darling, until it becomes habit. If I want to be attractive inside as well as out, I’ll have to practice the good things, so they outweigh the bad. I can’t do that alone. I need a practice partner who won’t tolerate failure, right? At least until it’s habit.”

You feel your entire brain have to reboot before you can give a coherent response. 

“Tomorrow. One hour. I have papers due.” You wait until he leaves your room before you smile.

Beelzebub

Probably the best choice for this MC.

The most emotionally intelligent of his brothers.

Also the most sincerely kind and gentle.

But also, like Satan, prone to sudden outbursts and rages. They’re all food-related (or, rather, lack-of-food-related), but they’re there.

A smart MC always carries snacks while dating Beel. Phone, wallet, keys, fried bat wings.

Strangely, though, the food-induced rages don’t really bother you. It’s not anger, really, and it’s never once been directed at you. And, unlike back in the human world, there’s a concrete way to help: feed him.

Today you have a whole backpack full of snacks.

You’re with Belphie, watching one of Beel’s games at RAD.

(You’re not sure Belphie wants to be there, but you’re not allowed out alone, and Belphie decided to take you - keep you safe and support his brother. Two birds, one Belphie.)

Belphie tends to nap against your shoulder any time the ref goes to make a call, but he’s somehow always awake to clap for his brother. 

(You stand on your chair and cheer, but that’s you.)

The game is a close one; double overtime. Even Belphie is too tense to sleep towards the end.

And at the end of double overtime, Beel manages the single extra goal that results in victory.

You cheer yourself hoarse for your demon boyfriend.

The whole stadium is crazy, so you hang back and wait. Belphie hates crowds and you’re not keen on them yourself. It’s going to take awhile for Beel to make it through the crowd to you anyway.

You’re standing in the aisle, scrolling through your phone, when suddenly there’s a loud shout and arms wrap around you from behind and lift you up.

You gasp, and your scream strangles in your throat so what comes out of you is nothing more than a squeak. Your phone goes flying.

You’re frozen for a moment as panic surges. You want to fight and you’re fighting your own brain to push the panic into your limbs so you can fight for yourself.

You vaguely feel a tugging and you hear someone - Belphie? - insisting that you be put down and then your feet are on the ground but there’s no such thing as your legs and you start to fall before the same arms help you gently sit. The ground is gross, but you’ll only care about the damage to your skirt later.

Everything is fuzzy and confusing; you’re not even sure of what you’re looking at until your vision is filled with blue and violet.

You know that swirl of color. That’s a SAFE color, and you start feeling your poor brain start to work again.

You blink into your boyfriend’s blue-violet eyes; you realize he’s cupping your face with his hands and the weird underwater noises start to sound like his voice. You realize, very belatedly, that what probably happened was Beel lifting you up in a victory hug.

“M’okay,” you say, but it sounds robotic. It takes a few more seconds - you don’t know how many - for all of your senses and brain to actually begin working in sync again. You start hearing the sounds of the crowd departing the stadium, and you hear Beel continuing to say your name and trying to get you to answer questions. You almost smile; but smiling wouldn’t make any sense.

“I’m okay,” you say, and you must sound a little more convincing this time because Beel looks relieved. He shoots a few more questions at you, and you realize they’re the kinds of questions people get asked when someone thinks they have a concussion or head trauma.

Your answers satisfy him, so Beel helps you to your feet. 

“What was that?” He asks. “Low blood sugar? Are you hungry?”

You have to smile at his very-typical diagnosis. A little sugar wouldn’t hurt, though. For some reason, eating grounds you after something like this. You dig a chocolate bar out of your Backpack of Snacks (Snackpack?) and hand the rest to him.

He impatiently takes a bag of chips out of it but doesn’t open it. He looks at you expectantly and you realize he won’t eat until you do. So you take a bite of the chocolate and he looks more relieved.

“So what the fuck WAS that?” Belphie asks as the three of you move towards the exit.

“Later.” You haven’t yet found a reason to really tell Beel (and, by extension, Belphegor) about everything. You do later that night. 

Beel swears he’ll never surprise you like that again. He’s a lot more cautious about touching you for a few days, but eventually things go back to normal between you.

Belphegor

Author note: Dude fucking murdered you, deliberately, in cold blood, and taunted you for your gentleness and desire to help as you died. But let’s say you can get past that - or try to. Probably the second-worst choice, after Satan, for this reason.

You started dating Belphie for the strangest reason: you could trash-talk the shit out of him.

He kept trying to be around you after you made the pact (which, let’s face it, you made so you could MAKE SURE he never hurt you again). Until, after politely dodging him wasn’t working, you told him to take his emo-boy routine and fuck off somewhere else.

You flinched, waiting for retaliation, but he just blinked at you and told you to stop being a brat.

And he was smiling.

But it wasn’t a mean smile - it was a smile that shared the joke.

Your lips quivered into a returning smile, and you threw another insult at him.

He topped it, and hurled one back.

Before you knew it, the two of you were screaming obscenities at each other in the middle of the common room and laughing like hyenas.

For some reason, Belphie calling you a dumb bitch wasn’t an insult. It was a mark of endearment. And it didn’t hurt your feelings or make you afraid.

It was empowering to call him a dickhead if he did something you didn’t like and have him simply laugh and amend his behavior. Nothing bothered him.

He didn’t move quickly; in fact he didn’t move at all if he could help it.

But you would remember, sometimes, the way his hands felt on your throat, or how cold his eyes had been. And you couldn’t say it was a momentary madness, because he’d planned it. He’d been imprisoned because he wanted to kill humanity.

You put it out of your mind. It was something you were good at, after all.

Until the two of you sat down to watch a movie one evening. A simple plot hole sparked a discussion that wound up being….not an argument, but definitely a difference of opinion.

As usual, insults were flying fast and furious when suddenly Belphie laughed and smacked you with his pillow.

It wasn’t an angry move, and it wasn’t hard enough to hurt. It wasn’t a hard blow at all! But the surprise had you falling back on the couch. And the fear had you curling into a ball, arms wrapped around your head protectively, legs curled up to guard your middle.

There is dead silence.

“Hey, Brat?” Belphie asks. When you don’t answer, he calls your name instead.

You slowly, very slowly, begin to uncurl yourself from your position. It takes time for the residual fear to leave, but enough is gone to leave room for embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” you mutter. 

“I get it,” is the answer.

Cue awkward silence.

“I figured you were still afraid of me.”

“I’m not!” When he just stares blandly at you, you sigh. “Okay, a little. If you wanted to hurt me - again - you’ve had a ton of opportunities. So I don’t think you want to. But…..”

“It’s a hard thing to get over.”

“Yeah. And not just you.” Hesitantly, you start to tell him. You want to just give him the basics, but once you start talking, you can’t seem to stop. He doesn’t interrupt, barely seems to blink, just watches you. A blank vessel to help you empty the poison that fills you sometimes.

You see his jaw tighten as you go on, but you know the anger isn’t at you.

When you finish, he’s silent for a few moments. Then he gathers you up to him. “I’ll never hurt you,” he says.

You look up at him with the same bland look he gave you a moment ago.

“Again,” he amends. “I’ll never hurt you again.”

You let out a watery laugh and he hugs you a bit tighter.

“You’re still a brat, though.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me requests #eferhilda-drake #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #tw: abuse #tw: domestic abuser #tw: suicide #tw: suicide baiting #lucifer #mammon #levi #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #asmo #beelzebub #belphegor #belphie

[feeling-weirdy]

Cute idea for a wanda-vision fic: The first time Vision ever sees a cat. Like he knows what a cat is, naturally, but he's never actually seen or held one.

Vision enjoyed being outside, even though his body didn't benefit from it the same as a human did. It still felt nice. The breeze running along his synthetic skin, sunlight beaming down keeping his internal temperature well above normal.

He could see why humans enjoyed it.

Vision lay silently in the grass, keeping his eyes closed as he just took in the moment. This particular spot by the lake turned out to be more peaceful than he imagined. The subtle splashes in the water, birds chirping above him, he could easily fall asleep out here. It was serene on a level he had yet to experience since his awakening.

"You doing okay there?" Wanda giggled beside him, climbing on top of him and placing a kiss along his lips once she was comfortable. Her soft lips lingered a moment longer, her auburn hair falling toward him. "You still with me?"

"Always, my love." Vision ran a finger along her cheek, pushing some of her long hair behind her ear. 

"What were you thinking about?" Wanda asked, leaning down to place another kiss on his lips.

"Oh, you know...just..." Vision started but trailed off as something cold touched the top of his head. Looking up, he was greeted with a small black cat with two large green eyes peering down at him. "Well, hello there. And who might you be?"

"He's so cute!"  Wanda crawled off him, pushing herself to her feet as she scooped the cat up into her arms. She preceded to make some strange cooing-type noises causing him to chuckle as he stood beside her.

He had seen many cats over the past few months, but this was the first time he had been so close to one. Vision reached out a finger to pet its head. The cat mewled, swiping its claws at his large finger.

"We should get you somewhere safe.”  Wanda looked around, clearly looking for the cat’s owner, but Vision couldn’t seem to take his eyes off it.   “The streets are no place for a cutie like you. Here, hold him for a sec."  Tucking the wriggling creature in his arms, Wanda ran off in the opposite direction.

The cat meowed, looking up at Vision with wide eyes.  Vision looked back with just as much curiosity, poking and prodding at the little guy as he moved around in his arms.  While he knew that cats could come in all shapes and sizes and different types, he hadn’t quite expected them to be so hairy.  He took the opportunity to look at the cat more closely, studying every inch of it while Wanda was gone.  By the time she came back, Vision knew everything there was to know about this particular cat.

“I found its owner,” Wanda said, slightly out of breath after having run up and down the street.  “He got out of their little shop.”

“Can we not just take ownership of it?”  Vision’s head cocked to the side, watching her quizzically.  She had gone to look for the cat’s owner, but perhaps had the owner not lost him, this whole scenario would not have been necessary.  Was it not the owner’s job to protect their creatures?  This one certainly failed.  Providing them with the animal would only encourage irresponsible behavior.

“No Vis, it belongs to someone.”  She chuckled, standing upright and folding her arms.  “I didn’t take you for a cat person.  You like cats?”

“I...suppose so.  This is the first feline I have ever encountered.”  Vision looked down at the cat in his arms, giving a gentle pat on its head.

“Well...maybe one day, but this little guy has a home.  We have to make sure he gets back there safely, okay?”  Vision nodded as she scooped the cat out of his arms, forcing his paw to wave goodbye.  “Say bye!”

“Farewell.” 

“Maybe if we ask them...you can come back to visit this little guy since it seems like you two hit it off.”  She walked back in the direction she ran, Vision following close behind her. 

“Perhaps.”  He still didn’t feel right about returning the animal, but Wanda knew more about human courtesy than he did, so he deferred to her judgment.  He would be checking in on the feline from time to time if given permission to ensure that they are more careful.

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

#scarletvision #wandavision #the vision #wanda maximoff #rini drabbles #CW to IW #he's totally a cat lover and no one can convince me otherwise

[popwasabi]

“End of Evangelion” and the tempting nature of oblivion

(TW: Suicide, Self-harm, Pain, Depression, Mental Health, Death)

“End of Evangelion” is a perplexing movie to say the least.

Not that the original classic anime “Neon Genesis Evangelion” series ends on exactly the most conclusive note itself, but “End” takes everything that transpired in the series and literally destroys it.

The films ends with Earth experiencing the long foreshadowed Third Impact and all of the planet returning to the primordial “soup,” as fans call it, with its main protagonist Shinji Ikari and comrade Asuka Langley Soryu as the only remaining humans left. A pseudo, twisted rebeginning of Adam and Eve’s Genesis.

The film is fairly divisive among the fans to say the least. Some fans consider it a masterpiece for its nihilistic tone and mind-bending illustrations of body horror and others despised it for being too dark and confusing with no clear explanation of anything that happened in the film’s events. Hell, even the movie’s fans have a difficult time explaining what exactly happens in the narrative.

I was somewhat in the middle with it after I watched it the first time not super long ago. It was certainly abstract, and I like plenty of stories that don’t make it easy for me to understand. The animation is definitely the franchise’s best and I enjoyed the character moments between Shinji, Asuka, and Misato. But it was also, as stated before, dreadfully confusing and still to this day hard to makes heads or tails out of with its plot.

But, as with more than a few movies I have revisited this year, 2020 helped me contextualize one aspect I think the story is concretely trying to get across.

(We’ll save discussion of “Rebuild” for another day...)

At my lowest points not long ago, I had this frequent vision that would crawl across my mind.

I imagined being up in the clouds on a beautiful sunny day, but I wasn’t floating or flying. I was plummeting, falling like a bird without wings at a speed that would definitely kill me once I got to the ground. But I never imagined actually hitting the Earth like a meat-bagged, human sized asteroid. I only ever imagined the falling part. The wind reaching a terminal velocity and the air rushing past my body and you know what look I had on my face?

Happiness.

I was confused a bit by why I kept imagining this moribund fall into oblivion over and over again. I wasn’t suicidal, though I certainly have had thoughts of self-harm plenty of times before and general detachment from life. But why the fuck was I so happy? I’m about to die after all!

What I have come to realize in recent years, as I’ve developed a better understanding of my mental health and what makes me tick, it wasn’t that I wanted to die so much as I wanted the freedom that comes moments before it. The feeling of finally letting go and letting fate/gravity do the rest.

Years of my life failing at various aspects of societal expectations and career obligations from not being able to get the girls I wanted to date so badly, relationships ending poorly, not quite applying myself the way I should’ve in college, and working a plethora of unfulfilling jobs since graduation made me yearn for that release. Just that feeling of saying “fuck it all” and giving in to the void.

I wanted to stop feeling out of control. The way the world is structured often feels like you are on a wild, rapid river flowing in one very stark direction but you desperately want to go the other way. You keep fighting and fighting it and realize after a while you are just swimming in place, you tire out and either float where the river wants you to go or you drown. I wanted neither of those things, I just wanted control and unfortunately part of life is accepting that a very large percentage of it is beyond your power to alter.

2020 made this feeling starkly apparent once again as we were hit with a once in a lifetime global pandemic that has killed 2.21 million people and counting. As common people struggle to find ways to handle the loss of loved ones and the fallout from economic instability those tasked with protecting us have more or less ignored the cries of needy. Hell, they’re fucking miffed that we would even have the audacity to ask for $2000 of our own fucking tax dollars to put a band-aid on the situation. Combine this with an extremely volatile two-party system and late stage capitalism, we are about as out of control as ever in terms of how much we actually can course correct our destinies in a period like this.

It is why so many irony-pilled millennials and gen z-ers are posting dank memes about meteors colliding with the earth over the course of the year. We’ve lived through two recessions, two forever wars, and now a pandemic in our lifetimes while paying off our crippling debt with slave wages and yet boomers still wonder why we are near universally depressed as a generation.

(Seriously, everybody needs a fucking therapist right now...and also to dismantle the fucking system that’s making us depressed!)

This is what I feel is the real heart of “End of Evangelion.” The movie is a lot of things, obviously, but, after the events of this year and looking back on the more depressing parts of my life, I feel this film is about the tempting nature of oblivion. Giving up when things are clearly beyond your control so you can get that sweet but twisted, fleeting sense of freedom from it all.

Director Hideaki Anno didn’t feel too entirely different about the state of life when he made this series and certainly by the time he made “End” he was in a very dark place.

So, quick history lesson, “Neon Genesis Evangelion” debuted in 1994 and quickly became a classic among fans of anime and the giant mech vs monster genre. Critics loved it for its exploration of mental health and depression and of course plenty enjoyed the hell out of it for its giant monster/robot escapism as well. Fast forward to the conclusion of the series, critics and fans especially are far more polarized. I won’t try to explain exactly what happens in the ending and frankly I don’t think anyone can, but that confusion led to quite a bit of outcry by the fans.

Hideaki Anno, the series’ director, received tons of hate mail and death threats following the series conclusion. The fans hated how abstract it was, how it had an undecisive ending and chose to dive into the mind of Shinji instead of conclusively describing the events of the Third Impact with plenty going as far as to say he had “ruined” his own series for them. This made him unfortunately quite depressed himself over the ending he felt creatively fairly content with.

(I think it should be clear who Shinji is mostly likely a stand-in for in this anime...)

The fan reaction was toxic to say the least and all too familiar for many creatives who didn’t adequately satisfy the insatiable vapid needs of their fandom. Anno did not take this well to put it lightly. A man who was known as a delinquent in high school and expelled from the Osaka University of Arts much earlier in his life, and dealt plenty with his own bouts of depression, Anno had plenty of his own demons to sort out and quite clearly wanted to explore that mental state in “Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

I’ll be honest and say that I myself was not fond of the ending either when I watched it the first time as a freshman in college, and even went as far as to describe it as everything that was wrong with anime to friends in the years that followed for a while. I felt it was confusing and “fake deep,” existential for no reason other than because it just wanted to and people were “dumb” if they liked it.

When I rewatched it again as a much older adult when it came on Netflix last year, I found it much more fascinating and interesting. A sort of abstract introspective into the mind of a troubled teenager, who I had written off many years prior as a “whiny baby.” Though I wouldn’t say I completely understand it still, I get it much more now and I think it has a lot to say about depression and mental health.

Unfortunately, most fans did not have that reaction back then and as a result Anno made his true conclusion “End of Evangelion” as a response to that negativity.

(You’re welcome, nerds.)

As mentioned before, “End of Evangelion” is an extremely nihilistic film that seems to one up each dark moment as you traverse its spiraling narrative. It’s a film where things never get better. If you go into it blind expecting that big last minute heroic save the day moment, it’s always teased and never comes. Things just end very badly for everyone. Nobody gets a “happy ending.”

While the ending to the original series is strange for sure, it does end on a light note that can be interpreted in a number of different ways but ultimately positive. With the way fans reacted to it Anno decided to write a big “fuck you” to them by, in many ways, smashing his toys so no one could play with them again. He even went as far as to splice in the actual hate mail he received into the movie to quite clearly show to the audience, as their favorite characters met their grissly ends, that this was their fault.

(“Gee, I wonder what that was all about.” ~ a fan walking out of the theater back in 1997.)

In a way though, Anno created something strangely beautiful from that reaction. “End of Evangelion” is about giving up in some ways and accepting our inevitable doom. There are no easy answers, no workable solutions to achieve a happy ending because sometimes in life there isn’t one. Despite last ditch efforts by Misato, Shinji, and the crew of NERV the world still ends through the Third Impact. But tonally it’s not quite pessimistic; it’s actually positive, in a very twisted sense of course.

Set to the song “Komm Susser Tod” by ARIANNE, the film’s apocalypse can almost be described as a celebration. With people “popping” and turning into the primordial soup they all largely have smiles on their faces as they kind of get what they want whether it’s a desire to reunite with loved ones, to be with people they have crushes on, or happiness that they have sought for so long in the embrace of others. Everyone’s depressed! But now they are happy because it’s finally all over, they don’t have to give a shit anymore.

As the planet lights up like a Christmas tree, there are images of suicide and death that rapidly cross the screen in the form of the Angel’s final transformation but again, nobody is truly sad about it. They all have some kind of twisted smile or joy that they get from it. It’s a shocking film, if you’re not already prepared for what’s going to happen, and provocative to say the least.

(Can’t decide if I recommend watching this high or not...)

I had no idea what any of it meant at the time when I watched it several years ago (I watched it well after I had seen the original series), and to be fair there are many ways fans have interpreted what exactly took place in the film and have debated endlessly on its meaning for decades now. But at least in my interpretation, after everything we’ve been through this year, “End of Evangelion” to me is about the sweet release of not giving a fuck anymore.

Whether it’s about Anno feeling that way about his own life or the expectations of his fans or both, the film quite clearly doesn’t care about what people may or may not have wanted for Shinji and the NGE characters and is perfectly fine with the way it all comes “tumbling down.”

(He just wants to be with his boyfriend, guys.)

This past July 4th, city fireworks shows were prohibited in my area because they wanted to limit mass gatherings due to COVID but this didn’t stop people from buying plenty of their own to fire off. In what amounted to a collective “fuck you” to everything and 2020, beginning pretty much exactly at dusk people started firing off their at home lightshows like they were mortar gunners in World War I and did not let up until well past midnight. The entire Southern California night sky was lit up not to unlike the thousands of crosses that filled the screen during the Third Impact of “End of Evangelion” and though it could certainly be interpreted as a moment of people patriotically going “Yea, America!” that night, my head canon was much different. It felt like tens of thousands of people across the region just saying “Fuck it” into the night sky at everything; COVID, our horrendous government, police violence, pending World Wars, environmental disaster, and our collective impending doom from it all.

As these fireworks hit their zenith around 9pm I broke out my phone and started playing “Komm Susser Tod” from the movie and it felt perfect. Everyone just wanted to feel that freedom in the moment, that freedom of not giving a damn anymore. To be removed from expectations, from control, from hatred, from pain and it was kind of beautiful in a sick way.

And that’s what “End of Evangelion” feels like to me now; kind of beautiful in a sick way.

(Not saying the LA skyline looked like this exactly but it felt like it haha...)

There are still many ways to interpret Hideaki Anno’s cult classic, and it’s part of its charm but I think the take away fans should have is definitely not that suicide is ok but that we get it. We understand why people have those feelings and why it feels freeing to desire the void and oblivion. It’s a pity that the series most toxic fans didn’t get that clue through the original finale but Anno, not a person who likes  being shoved around, clearly created perhaps the most twistedly beautiful “fuck you” to that in anime history.

As we enter 2021 all I can say is it’s ok to feel like this, it’s ok to desire freedom from the relentless gloom and doom of the world and people’s prying expectations of what they think you “should” be. No one blames you. At the end of the day, we’re all just trying to survive the apocalypse we have zero control over, so the least we can do is be a bit nicer and considerate of one another. 

At least it’ll make the Third Impact more pleasant whenever it eventually comes...

Happy New Year, everyone! 

Congratulations on surviving 2020! Have fun in 2021...

#neon genesis evangelion #end of evangelion #evangelion #hideaki anno #anime #japan #90s #vintage anime #2020 #apocalypse #covid #mental health #depression #sadness #horror #shinji #covid19 #quarantine

[firemblem-fics]

Smitten Kitten [1]

one | two | three | four | finale

-> Pairing: Felix x Female!Reader | Hybrid!AU (mostly platonic idk)

-> Warnings: Cursing, Hybrids get the short end of the stick, mentions of Felix having a bad past

-> Genre: Crack, Eventual Fluff, Eventually a bit of angst

-> Word Count: 1.8k

-> Summary: You never wanted to be involved with hybrids. They were risky and had too many rules for you. But what will you do when a little black and white cat that you take in turns out to be the very thing you steered clear of? 

-> A/N: Hi everyone! As you can tell, I’m trying some new things with the blog. I’ve got a lot of ideas and new things coming up, and this will probably have a part two (or three, if I go overboard lol!), so enjoy!

Winter where you lived was always harsh. The snow and wind whipped around daily, freezing everything in sight, including you. 

Luckily for you, you were stuck inside of your job for another thirty minutes, watching the winter rage on outside. Business had been slow in the pet shop and you barely had any customers, so you sat at the front desk and watched Netflix, occasionally checking on the fish and little hamsters that lived in the store. You were just finishing popping popcorn using the microwave in the back room when the doorbell rang, signaling a customer. 

You walked back out and smiled, seeing your friends Ashe and Sylvain. “Hey, boys!” 

Ashe grinned back, his teeth chattering. “Hi!”

Sylvain only pulled his coat tighter around him and hid himself in his hat, smiling at you. He’d always been a little grumpy coming to the pet shop. “Ashe says I need a new leash.” 

“Only because you broke the last one!” The other boy exclaimed, “You know you have to wear one eventually. You can’t hide every day once it warms up.” 

Ashe was right, unfortunately. As a Border Collie Hybrid, Sylvain was legally Ashe’s pet. Of course, all of your friends who have hybrids don’t see them that way, but many do. Hybrids were often treated as nothing but animals, despite them literally being human with cool ears and a tail. Laws required them to walk around with their owners on a leash and punishments were rather severe if the rules weren’t followed. 

You didn’t agree with how hybrids were seen one bit. Because of this, you were torn on what to do. Should you continue to stay uninvolved in hybrid care and only focus on regular pets, or should you help one and face the consequences when you inevitably don’t follow the rules? You would be heavily fined and your hybrid would be put in a shelter. The one in your town was literally named “Madame’s Hybrid Correctional Facility” and if that didn’t spell trouble, you didn’t know what did. 

Hybrid shelters were their own form of Hell. Hybrids were often whipped into shape to become the perfect obedient pet for their owner. Luckily for Sylvain, Ashe found him before he was sent off to a shelter and he’s been living in his own little Heaven in Ashe’s apartment. 

You grinned and took them to the aisle with leashes, letting Sylvain pick out his own. You rang them up and bagged the leash, knowing that he wouldn’t dare wear it in public. Not when the cold winter allowed him to hide his tail with a coat and his ears with a warm hat. 

Waving goodbye to your two friends as they left, you finished your popcorn and began closing up the store for the night. 

------

You shivered in the cold, wrapping your jacket tighter around you as you approached your apartment building. As you walked past a narrow alleyway, you heard a rustling noise. You paused, looking into the darkness. 

It rustled again. 

Against your better judgement, you turned on your phone’s flashlight and walked in, following the noise until it led you to a large garbage bin. You slowly peeked inside, but reeled back as a hiss echoed through the metal bin. You looked in once more. 

Inside was a black and white cat, curled around itself in a corner. Its ears were back and its tail bushed up, trying to scare you away. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the packet of treats for Sylvain. You were sure he wouldn’t mind if you gave the kitty a treat or two. 

Grabbing a treat and your hand out, you cooed towards the cat. “Come here, baby. It’s okay.” 

The cat only stared at you. 

You set the treat down in the bin, still calling for him. Soon, the cat unsurely stepped towards you, sniffing the treat before eating it. He retreated back into the corner. 

You hoisted yourself up and climbed into the trash can. How humiliating if anyone saw. 

The cat stared at you as you picked out another treat, this time keeping it in your hand. Once again, he stalked towards you, sniffing your hand instead of the treat. He took it and sat down, staring at you. He was still very cautious. 

The poor kitty looked like he was starving. You couldn’t just leave him here, but you doubted he would let you take him home. Home was only a few feet away, though… 

Fuck it. 

You carefully picked him up and opened your coat, holding him inside to keep him warm. He hissed from the inside, but didn’t claw you. Just tried to bite your shirt a little. 

“It’s okay,” You reassured him through chattering teeth, “You’re gonna have a home soon.” 

———

“I don’t know what to do, Ashe!” You groaned and leaned against the kitchen table. “Mittens is just hiding under my couch. He’s hissing and everything when I get close. I don’t even have pet food.” 

“Mittens? You decided on Mittens? What a stupid name. Anyhow, how do you know he’ll even eat pet food?” Ashe questioned over the phone. “Maybe he’s a hybrid.” 

You shook your head. “If he was, then why would he still be a cat? He could’ve easily turned human and found a living.” 

“Y/N, you know how people are with hybrids. If they knew, he’d probably be declined help. Hybrids have to have owners. You work at a pet store, shouldn’t you know this?” 

“I work at a pet store for regular animals,” You replied, “Mittens isn’t acting like a regular cat. His eyes are just… too strange. They’re red. Cats don’t usually have red eyes.” 

“He’s gotta be a hybrid. He may not be able to shift back and forth since he’s under a lot of stress. Sylvain wasn’t able to when I first got him. Try to get him to relax. Sylvie and I will be over tomorrow.” 

With that, Ashe hung up. You rolled your eyes. Mittens? A hybrid? He’s gotta be a cat. But… the way he looks at you and seems to understand everything you’re saying is a little weird. 

You walked to your refrigerator and opened it up, pulling out some lunch meat. You walked next to the couch and set it down, waiting for the cat to smell it. 

Slowly, Mittens’s nose peeked out from under the couch and his white paw smacked the meat, bringing it under the couch. You heard him chewing and sighed in relief. At least he was eating. 

You sat down on the couch and grabbed your TV

remote, turning on Netflix to a movie. As it started, you pulled a blanket over you and curled up. 

You were completely immersed in the movie, so you didn’t notice when Mittens slowly crawled out from under the couch and looked up at you, as if he was analyzing you. He jumped up on the couch and curled up on the edge of your blanket. 

He laid and seemed to watch the movie with you. You turned to him and reached out a hand. He sniffed it, but hissed again when you tried to pet him. Baby steps, you supposed. 

Mittens continued to lay on the other end of the sofa as the movie finished, laying his head down and falling asleep. You looked over at him and sighed. 

“Goodnight.” You whispered, standing up and heading to bed yourself. 

------

You awoke to a knock on your door. Shivering, you stepped onto the cold floor and wrapped a blanket around you, heading to the front door. You knew Ashe and Sylvain were at the door and you had told them multiple times to just come in, but Ashe refused, saying it was ‘impolite��. 

As you rounded the corner into the living room, you saw a large mass on your couch. You cocked your head and tiptoed closer. Your heart jumped as the mass moved, shifting on the couch and revealing itself to be a man laying where Mittens had fallen asleep. 

When he shifted, you got a full view of him sleeping peacefully on your blanket. Not knowing what else to do, you did what any sane person would. You screamed.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” 

The naked man on your couch stirred, rubbing his eyes. “Stop fucking yelling!” 

“Who are you?” You pressed against the wall, trying to stay away from the stranger. He opened his eyes fully to look at you and you gasped, recognizing the crimson hue. “Mittens?”

 “Do not call me that. Mittens is degrading and the worst name I’ve ever heard.” He sneered. “My name is Felix Fraldarius and I expect you to call me as such.”

“You- you’re a hybrid.” You couldn’t believe Ashe was right. 

Speaking of Ashe, he had used his spare key and quickly opened your door after hearing your scream. He looked in between you and Felix, smirking. “So, what was that about him being a ‘normal cat’?” 

You glared at him as he and Sylvain walked further inside and closed the door. Felix stood up and made his way to your fridge, pulling out the pack of turkey inside and eating a piece. 

“Do you have any shame?” You scoffed at the man. 

He quirked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? Thanks for helping me, I guess, but I don’t see why I need to be ashamed.”

Sylvain snorted, his tail wagging a bit. “Your clothes, man. Where are they? Not that I’m complaining or anything-” 

Felix’s ears flattened and he began to snarl a bit at the dog hybrid. “Don’t flirt with me.” He turned to you, “Why do I need clothes? I never had to wear them before…” 

“Listen,” You finally made eye contact with him, your face still red, “I don’t know what your previous owners or whatever made you do, but you’re more person than cat in this household. You need clothes. We’ll go shopping after work, but for now, Ashe, can you get him some of Sylvain’s things? They may fit.” 

As Ashe nodded and walked to his apartment with Sylvain, you set to work on making breakfast for the four of you. You pulled out eggs and bacon, beginning to cook them before turning to Felix, who had seated himself at the table and was fiddling with the white tip of his tail. 

You leaned against the counter. “So… how did you end up in a garbage can?” 

He tensed a bit. “That’s none of your business. Just, don’t send me to a shelter. They don’t like me there.” 

“Why not?” You pressed. 

“Everyone returns me because I’m ‘too hostile’. They try to train me or whatever to make me nicer and I don’t feel like dealing with that shit again.” 

Nodding, you turned back to the breakfast. “You won’t have to worry about that. You’re not a pet here. You’re a person. I’ll still have to go in and adopt you, but it’ll be okay. You won’t have to go through any of that ever again.” 

Felix continued to stare at the table, trying to fight the small upturn of his lips. “Yeah…”

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem three houses x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #x reader #felix #felix fraldarius imagines #felix fraldarius #felix fraldarius x reader #felix x reader #felix imagines #hybrid au #hybrid #alternate universe #felix hugo fraldarius x reader #felix hugo fraldarius

[chrissyutimagines]

Can I please request a soulmate AU drabble with HT Papyrus for the “You have a birth mark that represents your soulmate and aches when you're close to them, the pain stops when you touch them” AU? I think that one is neat!

Ok, some things about this. This'll not just be a meet cute, it's gonna be a search for the meaning of their mark. Settings and POVs are still the same. And I'm going to assume that the gender is female, just to make my life easier.

You stare at your birthmark, then turned to your beloved boyfriend. Grinning happily, you showed him your arm with your mark tattooed on it.

"Do you remember how we met, Sweets?" He smiles at you, leaning down to peck your lips.

"Of Course, Pumpkin. You Were The Cutest, Sweetest One Of The Crowd." You felt your face heat up.

"Sweets..."

"Oh Silly Me, I Forgot. You Were Also The Loveliest Woman I Have Ever Laid Eyes On."

"Darling please..."

"No, You Deserve To Be Complemented. You're Amazing." You were speechless.

"Nyeh Heh Heh." He was laughing. At you.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Pumpkin. You Just Look So Cute, Just Like When We Met." Oh. Right. That.

You were speechless as well when you first met your sweet, sweet boyfriend.

It was a fine day. The skies were blue and the winds softly caressed your cheeks. It was the perfect time for a nice cup of tea at the scenic Cafe.

You ordered your tea and sat at a outdoor table, relaxing beneath the shade of the umbrella. Then suddenly your birthmark starts to ache.

Startled, you grip your arm with the birthmark and frantically scanned the crowd to see if you can spot a person with the same problem that you have.

Then you spot him.

A tall skeleton, wearing braces and leg supports, holding his hand in obvious pain.

He spots you, and your eyes meet. You stared at each other for a while, forgetting the pain in your arm.

You were rudely reminded though, as he came closer, and gripped your arm tighter. You winced and closed your eyes trying to ignore the pain.

Then, a skeletal hand touches you, and the pain disappeared.

You open your eyes and saw... A t-shirt in your face... You looked up, craning your neck, and you saw the face of your soulmate.

He looked down at you. He's a skeleton, wearing casual clothes. You faintly remembered that Monsters had recently emerged from Mt. Ebott. But that wasn't your first thought, your first thought was, he's so... Large... And his face... His demeanor... It reminds you of a giant bear, a giant Teddy Bear.

"You're So Small." You suddenly feel offended.

"Hey! That's only because you're so large!" He chuckles.

"I Don't Mean To Offend You. Being Small Isn't A Bad Thing, Just Makes You That Much Cuter." You feel your face burn at those words.

"You're the one who's cute, you giant teddy bear." He blushes orange.

"Teddy Bear? Am I Not Scary To You?" You raised an eyebrow.

"No? Should I?" He frantically waves his hands.

"No, No, It's Better To Not Be Afraid."

You both fell silent after that.

"So, do... You want to join me in enjoying the beautiful weather?"

"I'm Afraid I'm A Little Bit Busy. I Need To Get Groceries."

"No worries, I'll go ask the waiter to put my drink in a take out cup. And we can go together."

"Sure."

And that's how you met Sweets, your sweet boyfriend. You had gotten his number on that very day and gotten together a while after then.

"You Really Were Adorable. Calling Me A Giant Teddy Bear." He smirked.

"It's the truth." You peck his teeth, being careful with the jagged parts.

But, something still bugs you to this day...

"Sweets, baby?"

"Yes?"

"What do our marks mean?" He freezes.

"I, I Don't Know..."

You both stare at each other. And burst into a fit of giggles.

"We-we've been together for, so long-"

"-And We, Never Knew The Meaning Behind Our Marks!"

Your giggles slowly die down, and you sigh.

"We should go search it."

"Yes. We Should."

"Together?" You look at him.

"Of Course."

He stood up and swiftly picked you up. You squeal.

"Sweets! Your legs, baby! Put me down!"

"Oh Please, It's Not Like I Couldn't Lift A Bunch Of Grapes."

"I'm not a bunch of grapes!"

"Same Thing, Pumpkin." You blush, covering your face with your hands, you let him carry you to his bedroom.

He plopped down on the chair in front of his desk and adjusts you to sit comfortably in his lap. Then he opened up the laptop.

"Let's See, We'll Start With My Mark. I've Got A Swan With A Strange Looking Cross In It." He said as he looked at his hand.

"Let's start with the swan. Swan...meaning... There! Spirit animal?" You look at the screen curiously.

"It Says Here That The Swan Spirit Animal Means Purity, Grace, Beauty, Love, Elegance, Divination, and Balance."

"It says here that it also means inner beauty, grace in dealing with others, union, loyalty, and peace..."

You look at Sweets with a questioning look.

"It's Not Wrong. You Really Are All That. And I Love You Because Of That."

He leans down to give you a quick peck on the cheek. You giggle.

"Ok, ok, let's search the cross. Cross...tattoo...meaning..."

"Christianity? That Doesn't Seem Right."

"Wait, wait, look! There's a Celtic meaning here!"

"You're Right. It's Says That It Means Balance, Faith, Hope, And Wisdom."

"I- Am I like that? Is it wrong? Should we-"

"No. It's Exactly What I Think You Are." You turn to face Sweets, his pupils have become the most adorable little hearts. You flush at the sight.

"R-really?"

"Why Would I Lie To You My Love? You Helped Me Balance My Life, And You Gave Me Hope... Every Meaning Of My Mark Is Perfect For You."

Your heart swells at his sweet words and you hug him tightly, pressing kisses all over his skull.

"Oh, you sweet, sweet skeleton! My favorite teddy bear!" You continue to kiss his skull until he gently pushes you away.

"Come On, Pumpkin. We Still Need To Search Up What Yours Meant!" You pout.

"Alright, fine. But I'm gonna smother you with kisses afterwards." He laughs.

"Alright, That's Fair." You turn around and reached for the keyboard, but was stopped by Sweets.

"Ah, Ah, Ah. You Helped Me Search, So Now I'll Help You Search." You huff and pout but still complied.

"Well, my mark has a turtle with a maze-like design as the shell."

"Ok! Turtle...Meaning... Done!"

"Long life? That seems a bit off as well..."

"Perhaps It's Another Spirit Animal Like Mine!"

"Oh yeah! There! It means the ability to stay grounded, slowing down, pacing yourself, determination, persistence, emotional strength and understanding, and ancient wisdom."

"Well, I Can Understand Slowing Down And Pacing Myself, But I Don't Know About The Rest..."

From his tone alone, you can tell he's doubting himself. If only he could see things from your eyes... Well, that's why you're here, to remind him of the monster he truly is. You turn to face your, sad-looking boyfriend.

"I think it's the perfect description of you."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. You've left the underground with your sanity, haven't you? You've 'stayed grounded' and had 'the emotional strength' to make that happen. You've grown, you can 'understand' people's 'emotions' when they see you and get scared. But you didn't just give up, you stayed 'determined' and 'persistent', and in the end, you got your happy ending and your happy beginning to a beautiful future. And having been though all that, you gained 'wisdom' that only a handful of people could understand. The turtle spirit describes you perfectly."

His eyesockets watered and he embraced you tightly.

"Thank You... Thank You..."

He pulls away only to pepper your face with kisses, being careful of his jagged teeth, and his hands slid up to pet and caress your hair lovingly. You giggle and attempted to pull away after a small while.

"Come on, Sweets. Love, we haven't finished searching, there's still the- mmf! Hah! Maze part!" He cut you off in the middle with a sudden kiss, but you managed to pull away and finish your sentence.

"Alright, Pumpkin. Let's See... Maze...Tattoo...Meaning... There!" You turn to look at the screen.

"Search of self? That seems not quite right... Wait. Add the word 'Celtic' in! Maybe, this is the same as the cross!"

"That Seems Like A Good Idea! There. It Means Clarity, Searching, Light, And Being Lost Then Found."

"Oh! That makes much more sense! It's perfect for you." You turn to face him again.

"Do You Think So?"

"I know so. You are a bright light in my life. You've been though that treacherous time in the underground, 'lost' yourself, then came out, 'finding' yourself once again... All of those words, they fit you perfectly." His eyesockets watered again. And he immediately pulled you in for a deep, passionate kiss.

When he pulled away, you both gazed lovingly at each other. Sweets spoke up first.

"Let's Continue This On A More, Comfortable Place."

"Bed?"

"Bed."

He adjusted your position on him and picked you up again. You squealed happily as he carried you to the bed, stealing kisses every few seconds.

When he finally plopped you down on the bed and crawled over to you, you grabbed his skull and pulled him into another passionate kiss. He falls on top of you, having not expected that. But he quickly recovered, and rolled you both on your sides so he doesn't crush you.

You both were lost in both your affection for each other. You may have forgotten to check the time, and might have lost a lot of time in the process. But, there's nowhere you'd rather be.

There. Done. That marks the end of my trip, and any large portions of free time. So, any requests after this one would take a while for me to finish. Well, more than 3 days at least. Hope y'all enjoy this fluffy as hell soulmate AU oneshot!

Also, birthmarks of both are below.

(1: Sweets's mark, 2: Reader's mark)

(Also, pics not mine, I just edited it.)

#Horrortale #Sweets #Papyrus #Drabble #Oneshot #x reader #Papyrus x reader #Fem! Reader #Soulmate AU

[prose-for-hire]

[I know what you did last] Halloween

Part One // Part Two // Part Four

Pairing: Scooby gang x reader (platonic)

This the third part to a platonic story with the reader as part of the Scooby gang. Set season 3. This is a multi-parted serial killer/slasher fic for Halloween. This one is probably the longest, and with the largest number of deaths. 🖤🦇

Warning: It is a serial killer fic, main characters are going to continue to die (I’m sorry, it’s Halloween). 

There is a reference to suicide. I do not describe anything (method, etc) in detail, it is implied. It is not the reader. Violence. Blood mention. Swearing.

Domestic Disturbances – the new norm?

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

At The Sunnydale Express, we are always using statistics to tell us what may be happening in our town. A large spike in cases tells us that more young people are getting involved in domestic disturbances, both with partners and friends.

Furthermore, young people in Sunnydale are 50% more likely to be in public places after dark and this accounts for their high numbers of disappearances and more recently, their high numbers of serial-killer related deaths.

It comes to light in the recent spate of serial killings that many young people attract attention to themselves by partying, going out late at night and allowing their friends to walk home alone.

After the argument, Cordy stalked off. She was cold. She only had on her cheerleading uniform and it barely covered her skin. She had goose bumps. Hugging herself as she walked. Still muttering under her breath about the group. She had never known a Californian evening to have such a chill in the air, it was as if she had stepped out into the arctic circle.

“Damn it!” She groaned, realising she had left her cell back at the house. She didn’t want to go back, not after she had already stormed out. She rubbed her own arms as she walked, trying to create a little more warmth.

As she walked, she had this strange feeling. As if she was being watched. She kept checking behind her, quickening her pace. She was starting to worry. She thought she had better contact her father, maybe he could pick her up seeing as her car was in the shop.

She eventually came across a payphone and stepped up to it. She took some money and dialled the number.

She heard a noise as she waited and paused, looked around. She squinted into the darkness but shrugged, stepping back up to the phone. She waited, the phone rang out and she sighed not knowing what to do. It felt as if it was getting colder and she swore she could feel eyes on her.

All at once, her fears came true. Her feeling wasn’t unfounded.

He stared, silently just watching her. When she just stared back, he knocked on the pay phone box with his scythe. She started to diall the phone quickly getting as far as ‘91-′ before he slashed the cord.

 “Oh, what am I supposed to be scared? Am I supposed to, like, run away? Give you a chase?” She asked, standing toe-to-toe with the masked figure before continuing, “Well, I’m Cordelia Chase, dumbass – who the hell are you?”

“Your worst nightmare” The voice spoke as if he had been chewing knuts and bolts.

“Oh please” Cordelia replied, her hands on her hips as she arched an eyebrow, “I’m from here. Y’know Sunnydale? We slay creeps like you for breakfast”

“Slay this, murderer” He said evenly. Cordelia frowned but didn’t manage to move fast enough as he hooked her on his scythe. The hook so deep it came out the other side of her body. She looked down and screamed, scratching at the mask and trying to pull on it. The killer hadn’t been expecting it. Somehow she managed to unhook herself, whether it was adrenaline or maybe because she was used to having sharp metal stuck through her middle, she really was made of stronger stuff than he had anticipated.

She started to run, clutching her now bleeding stomach. She was going to have to find a really good surgeon to sort this mess out, she sighed. She ran as fast as she could, leaving a trail of thick blood in her wake. She started to falter. If the killer didn’t catch her, then a vampire might. This spurred her on, making her run faster.

She turned down an alley, not able to see him behind her anymore. But she didn’t slow, just kept running. That was, until she ran straight into him. He had caught her off-guard sending her straight into his path. He stared for a moment, almost savouring it before he acted. He stabbed her, slashed at her stomach. The blood sprayed over the costume as she screamed at him, mostly in anger but also out of pain. 

She turned, much slower than before and started to try and get away. He paused, just watching her as she went slower and slower.  She started to collapse but she didn’t stop propelling herself forwards. She was trying to fight, to survive until her last breath. She started to claw at the gravel with her nails as she ended up crawling to try to get away. The wound was too much. 

The next day held yet another American horror story for you to wake up to. One that would continue to haunt you as you tried to live through the days without breaking. You felt trapped. Targeted. Like a caged animal, knowing you were next for the slaughter. But mostly, you just felt sad. Missing your friend.

The sky was overcast and grey. You had never seen weather like it in Sunnydale before. It had filled you with a sense of foreboding before you had even woken up properly.

You were all hung over, but that feeling was nothing compared to how you felt when you had heard. Willow had called but she had only sobbed and hung up on you. You waited by the phone until you had another call. From Buffy. 

You had heard about Cordelia’s death the same way everyone else had, through word of mouth. Her body had been arranged publicly for unsuspecting members of the public to pass by. Everyone had told everyone. By breakfast, everyone knew and the media was playing catch-up.

You didn’t go near where her body had been left for everyone to see. You just sat in silence. Your ears ringing, not able to focus. Her body had been horribly mutilated and her intestines had been arranged so that they spelled ‘murderer’. Newspaper clippings arranged around her. You couldn’t stop thinking about how you had just walked away from everyone. Just left them to argue. You felt you were to blame.

Should we blame the parents?

Sunnydale express, October 1999. Official death toll: 6

The police have launched a case that is apparently now being investigated in connection to a now deceased young woman. The alleged murderer, Cordelia Chase, was discovered early this morning who rather ironically was caught spilling her guts to the world. We wonder why it took the act of a serial killer to reveal this. Mr Chase declined to comment.

The Sunnydale Express expects more truth to be disclosed as the vigilante (or, hero, as we may come to know him: you heard it here first) may reveal more as the weeks go on.

We wonder whether the parents should be held accountable in the same way that Ms Chase was.

 The police interviews were being conducted on the entire student body. The questions were apparently to be asked about the current murders as well as this recent accusation written using Cordelia’s death.

You were waiting for your turn. You couldn’t help think that it wasn’t a coincidence that you and your remaining friends were the ones called to the principal’s office first. Snyder had never liked any of you, but he had some (in honesty, not ridiculous) suspicions about you. Especially since you looked like walking zombies in the corridors since last year.

You were sat in the waiting area, trying to keep calm. You were staring straight ahead, into a dead man’s eyes. Principal Flutie. You hadn’t really known him very long, you had probably seen this memorial plaque more than you had seen him in person.

But it made you wonder why his death wasn’t investigated with as much importance. Why, when it came to supernatural crimes did nobody ever question it? His death was pronounced natural causes. You had never met someone who had died of less natural causes than students that had been taken over by hyenas eating your face.

It also made you think that ever since those students killed the Principal, you hadn’t seen them around school anymore. You knew at least one of the girls had moved to a different state. And two of the guys played basketball… or was it football? You couldn’t recall (it wasn’t very interesting to you anyway, you were more likely to have murder on the brain). You do remember that Snyder had kept them for at least another year because they won the school trophies.

But it concerned you. It was right that Mr Bates’ death should be investigated, but there are so many other people that didn’t get this much attention afforded to their case. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was someone in the authorities that they hired to weed out the supernatural from the normal crimes and only focus on them.

“Y/n? Your turn” a voice told you and you got up and walked over to the door, your legs working without your brain catching up. You were mostly on autopilot now. The kind receptionist smiled sympathetically at you as you walked in, passing Willow who’s face was red and puffy. She avoided your eye contact and you felt a growing sense of dread.

 You came and sat down, opposite three men. Two investigators and Snyder. As soon as you sat down, Snyder was enjoying himself, he had a sadistic smile on his face every time the officer turned back to look at you. You avoided looking at him after a while, your eyes trained only on the investigator. Snyder was agitated and you were trying to keep your composure. 

“Where were you on the night of Halloween, 1998?”

“At a party – the same party everyone in town was at” You answered in short sentences, sure you would choke on your words if you tried to say anything else. They knew. About Mr Bates. They suspected you. You hadn’t known the police in Sunnydale to find a lead so quickly. It was as if they had offered themselves to the devil in exchange for half-decent investigative skills.

“Did you see Ms Chase on that date?”

“Yes I saw Cordelia on Halloween” You replied. The questions continued like that for almost an hour. Questions being asked in circles, trying to see if any of your responses changed. They sounded pleasant but there was an underlying accusatory tone that you knew was completely fair. You had, in fact, been involved in the death they were questioning you about after all. 

“Do you have any further information?” The investigator asked finally.

“Have you spoken to Faith?” You asked. You didn’t know why you mentioned her specifically but you were still seething from the argument you had with her. You wanted to check, even though a part of you knew the sentence was somewhat loaded with accusation.

“Ms Lehane is not a suspect”

“But you know she was at the party and she was seen with Cordy-”

“Ms Lehane is not a suspect and we have yet to contact her lawyer for a statement”

“Her lawyer?”

“Yes, a representative from Wolfram and Hart. Why, do you need a lawyer y/n?”

“N-no, that’s okay” You offer, getting out of your seat and avoiding eye contact as you left the office. 

Weird. Since when could Faith afford a lawyer? And why was she suddenly immune to the authorities? You had never thought of her as having friends in high places.

You walked straight past your class, needing some room to breathe. The walls of the corridor felt as if they were closing in and the acute feeling of misery surrounded you. Everyone felt it. Avoided you in the corridors because of it. You went into the library. Wesley saw you, he nodded, understanding you needed your space. You needed time somewhere you felt safe. The library had always made you feel this way.

You ran your finger along the spines of the books, barely paying attention as you picked one out at random and walked over to a desk in the corner with it under your arm. Even if you didn’t manage to focus on the words, it would be at least some comfort to you.

You sat down in your favourite spot and opened a book that read, ‘Ouija boards and how to use them’. Must have been in the occult section. But it did lead to an idea that started forming in your mind.

That was it. That’s what you needed to do. Maybe they would have some kind of clue, some kind of weakness. Maybe they could tell you who the masked figure really was and if you knew them. You decided you would tell the others during the lunch break that you usually spent in a melancholy silence, picking at your food.

You sat back in your chair, knowing Wesley was watching you - debating whether he should offer a friendly ear. But he ultimately decided against it, he could get a little awkward around discussing emotions and he wouldn’t know what he would do if you started crying. You felt his concern though and you looked up and nodded at him, sending him a tight smile. He returned it and quickly scurried off to do some organising of the books now he had become head librarian.

You sat back in your chair, considering everything that had gone on already today. It was enough to make your head spin. You didn’t know if you could handle much more. You were afraid. For yourself, for your friends.

There was something about these killings. Either someone had done their research or they were very lucky in picking off the exact people they needed to target. You figured it must be someone at school, you found yourself deciding you wouldn’t even be surprised if it was Snyder at this point.

It was late afternoon now and you should be in history class. So should Buffy and Willow. But none of you were. You had closed all of the curtains and lit as many candles as you could find.

You knelt down beside Willow and Buffy, a Ouija board on the coffee table that you sat around. You started to reach for each other, to hold hands but something stopped you.

There was a loud knock at the door and you all jumped violently. Maybe it was Faith finally arriving - you had been waiting for her but she had been so late you had to start without her.

“Y/n? Y/n! Is it true you were friends with Cordelia?”

“Wha-”

“Are you next? Do you think the vigilante will be coming for you now?”

“Why would-”

“Leave. Now!” Buffy shouted firmly. The reporters had all heard of Buffy and backed off slightly. But a few pictures flashed of you both before Buffy slammed the door shut on them. You thanked her softly, all of your faces solemn 

The only chance you had now was to contact the spirits, hope they had some kind of information so that you could find the killer and stop him. You could offer them help too. Maybe that was the kind of atonement that would make you feel less guilt? No, you didn’t really believe that. Well, it may save the rest of your friends lives so it was worth it you decided.

You tried to calm yourselves down, you had all been shaken from what had happened. You hoped they couldn’t print anything about you. Newspapers couldn’t publish anything without actual facts, right?

The three of you held hands, closing your eyes and focusing on calling the spirits of the people you loved back to you. The Ouija board was in the middle of the circle, but it was more of an object to focus your minds rather than to speak to your dead friends. You were hoping to manifest them here. To talk to them.

 And you did.

But not in the way you had hoped. Xander, Giles and Cordelia appeared. As if out of thin air. You smiled at them, so pleased to see them. Relived to see their faces. Until you looked properly. It was like seeing them in fog. Their faces slightly distorted. The scars from their deaths sewed up but prominent.

“You did this! You did this! YOU DID THIS!” they started to chant simultaneously, getting louder and louder. The grudge they held was strong. You felt it deep within. They hated you. They wanted you in their place.

You kept trying to talk to them, apologise and even plead with them to talk to you. But they wouldn’t. They started to charge towards you, violence in their eyes as you broke the circle in shock. As soon as you let go of your friends hands, they disappeared. 

You were all exhausted. It had taken a lot of energy and you were no closer to finding out who the masked killer was. You had little hope for living into tomorrow and your friends all blamed you for their deaths. You had used up all of your options. You had no more plans.

You, Buffy and Willow were still recovering from contacting the spirits when Faith entered, a lot later than you had told her to come. She had needed to meet with someone. Someone she had never told any of you about.

“Where did you get your fancy lawyer from, huh? You live in a fucking motel!” You got up immediately, not bothering with the niceties. You had a bad feeling. Like she was somehow going to spin this back onto you. Something about how she had been acting recently didn’t sit right with you.

“Yeah, thanks for offering me a bed” Faith quipped, but you weren’t getting distracted easily.

“Lawyer?” Willow asked, frowning at Faith.

“Why do you have a lawyer?” Buffy asked, her hand on her hip as she scrutinised Faith.

“I was just told I needed one” she shrugged.

“By who?” You demanded. You knew it. You knew there was something going on.

“By no one!” Faith rolled her eyes, “Stop ridin’ my dick, y/n”

“Don’t do that! You’ve fucking told someone!” You persisted. You could feel it, “You never liked Cordelia and you’ve never mentioned needing a lawyer before - why do you have one now? Feeling guilty over something?”

You tried to swing at Faith but she grabbed your wrist and twisted your arm around your back painfully. Buffy had to run in and broke you up. You apologised to Buffy, but avoided looking at Faith as you tried to calm down. She looked around at the rest of you, sighing. She knew you were all suspicious of her now so she left, slamming the door behind her.

Teen suicide: Trendy or tragic?

The Sunnydale Express, October 1999. Official death toll: 6.

It has come to our attention that, amongst the increased missing cases, apparent self-inflicted deaths have been on the increase in Sunnydale especially in young people. Here at the Express, we like to get the facts so we interviewed some students from Sunnydale high school and paraphrased their response.

‘Life totally sucks’ – anonymous student.

‘We just, like, don’t care’ – another anonymous student.

There you have it, real words from real students. It makes us wonder at The Sunnydale Express, whether suicide really is serious or just ‘the next big thing’?

Willow and Oz were sat on the sofa in Oz’s home. They had the house to themselves and they were making the most of it by watching rentals and cuddling. Oz had an arm over Willow’s shoulder. Luckily, he hadn’t heard about the reporters yet and so his girlfriend was satisfied he had no suspicions. Willow wasn’t really in the room however, she was just staring into space.

“I’m startin’ to worry. You’re not yourself” he said softly, kissing her cheek.

“I’m not?”

“Ever since last Halloween… I know what it is. What you did” Oz stated. Calm as ever.

Horror swept across her face, quickly rounding the corner into panic. She was stunned. Unable to move. Speak. So Oz continued, “You and Xander… it was when you and he started... Right?” his voice was level and his expression was stoic, but there was something there. He was still hurt by what had happened, but he understood that this would hurt more. Now he had died. Now so many of the people she was close to had died. And now she had seemed to stop talking to everyone except Buffy. Everything happening this time of year was bound to take her usual Willow shine.

Willow visibly relaxed at his suggestion, but this didn’t last. Estimations suggest it was around half a second, before a voice boomed into the living room, answering Oz’s question. “Wrong” the gravelly texture to his voice making Willow wince.

Oz got up from the sofa, immediately standing in front of Willow. The figure moved his head from side to side, the signature mask not allowing them to see an expression. But the hairs on the back of their neck was standing on end.

Tell. Tell. Tell. Tell.

As if there were still some spirits left over from earlier in the day, Willow felt it within. He wanted her to tell Oz. 

“I- I can’t tell him”

“Tell me what? Will?” Oz asked levelly, his hand comfortingly rubbing her upper arm.

“Tell him… or he dies”

“W-we killed that man. Well, we hid his body a-and then we started getting these notes a-and-” Willow collapsed into sobs as she tried to recall everything that happened, “G-Giles- too and we cleaned it up and made it look like an a-accident”

Oz’s face twisted into shock. He had never been this visibly shocked.  Then his face changed. In their horrifying exchange, they had almost forgotten they had a visitor and Oz had moved to face away from him. Oz looked down, his eyes wide in horror.

It made Willow look down too. It was as if a demon was breaking out of his chest. His t-shirt stained with blood as the blade was removed and then repeatedly stabbed into him. Each time the blade sliced through him Willow winced and stared in horror. She was rooted to the spot. That was, until Oz fell forwards into her arms.

“Did I say or? I meant ‘and’” the voice said, Willow was able to hear that he was smiling through his mask. He cleaned off the scythe with his finger and watched. She sobbed, lowering herself to the ground and Oz became dead weight. She held him to her, his horrified look still in his eye as his breathing began to slow. A pool of blood started to surround them as the killer watched, as if in fascination from above.

He let Willow bawl for a while, her salty tears mixing in with Oz’s blood. Then he got bored. “Sign” he stated, brandishing a typed up note under her nose. He started to grow impatient as she didn’t reply and demanded again, “Sign it”

“W-why? What is it?” Willow said between sobs. She was still on the floor, clinging to Oz.

“A confession” He stated, tilting his head to the side before looking down at his other hand that had appeared from behind his back, now there was a noose in one hand and the already typed note in another.

“No!” Willow screamed and started to run but she was still weak from shock. She knew what was coming. She got up, desperately trying to run but it had been too much. It had been exhausting. Hiding. Living in fear. Witnessing everything she had seen and it never got easier. Especially not now. “Oz”, she whimpered.

The figure chased her through the house, she ran up the stairs towards the bedroom. She slammed the door and jammed it closed with a set of drawers she managed to push with some effort.

He had been right behind her and had started to stab through the door with his scythe when he realised it was locked. The door splintered and eventually gave through. He stuck his arm through the gap, swinging the weapon wildly as if he could catch Willow even slightly but she was huddled in the corner.

“Willow dear, light of nobody’s life?” he asked frantically realising this was futile, “Let me in… Let me in!” he started to get angrier, his composure slipping only briefly before he moved away leaving a gap in the door. She heard footsteps descending down the stairs and slowly moved from the corner she had been hiding in. Willow was breathing heavily, tiptoeing to the door to see where he had gone. She paused before hauling the cupboard back. She started to open the door slowly and stepped tentatively onto the landing. As soon as she started to walk slowly he ran at her full pelt. She stumbled over her feet, running down the stairs and past the front door, through the kitchen, checking behind her to see that he was right behind her.

She turned into the living room, shrieking in horror, she had been chased in a circle back to where she had started. He had been toying with her. Humouring her.

She was covered in Oz’s blood and skidded to the floor, hitting her head on the coffee table. She clutched at her head, Oz’s blood mixing with hers as her vision started to go fuzzy until it finally went black…

#a very buffy halloween #I know what you did last halloween #Oz #Willow Rosenberg #daniel osbourne #Buffy Summers #Faith Lehane #Cordelia Chase #Cordy #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #scooby gang x reader #scooby gang x you #scoobies #scooby gang #gender neutral #Halloween fic

[jonsnowloversunite]

The Heart of a Wildling

This is part of a revamped collection of short stories and other sexy pieces featuring Jon Snow. It's a balanced combination of sweet as honey fluff and sinful smut. I hope you enjoy reading this as much I as I loved writing it!

Background: Jon is presented to the King Beyond the Wall as a traitor of the Night's Watch. He experiences a strong attraction to a woods witch that heals his burned hand.

We sat quietly and listened to Mance tell the turn cloak about why he left the Watch to join us free folk north of the Wall. We had heard his story many times before, but never tired of listening. Mance was a gifted story teller and naturally commanded the room.

The "crow-come-over", Jon Snow, seemed to like the tale, hanging on every word, waiting for what would come next. I studied him carefully, especially those dark grey eyes which were almost black. I had never seen eyes with such conflict. There were notes of anger and defensiveness in them. Yet beneath the surface, I could sense a deep sadness. How troubling it must have been for him to carry such a weight.

Jon caught me staring at him and gave me a warm smile in response. I returned the gesture and turned away pink faced. Mance had never witnessed me fluster so. He examined my next move with a devilish grin on his face. Mance was quite the trickster.

"Mance," I finally spoke up, interrupting his tale. "The crow appears to have badly burned his hand. There is much scar tissue and maybe even some permanent damage, I fear. May I tend to his wound?"

"Is that so Jon?" Mance asked with curiosity. "Are you in need of treatment?"

Jon looked down at his hand, flexing his fingers. "I suffered a very bad burn not long ago. It's healing, but it still causes me pain and stiffness, especially in this bitter cold. It's my sword hand too, so it tends to tire easily." The words just poured out of Jon's mouth. He had not expected to say so much; I could tell by his surprised expression. It was like his voice had betrayed him. But Mance had a way of getting people to talk, and Jon Snow was just like the rest, crow or not.

"Very well Tala. Do what you can for him. We need him healed up as quickly as possible. I have an important assignment for him." Mance smiled at me with a little twinkle in his eye. He was curious of my interest in Jon, yet he had his concerns as well.  Mance examined Jon's face, studying his reaction and looking for any sign of falsehood or trickery.

"I will send for you in a few hours' time, after I have prepared your remedy," I stated, placing my hand gently on his shoulder.

"Of course, my lady- I mean Tala. Just Tala, right? Is that how to address you?" Jon did not hide his sense of awkwardness well and turned as pink as a newborn babe. I could not say if it was from his slip of the tongue or from my touch. Perhaps it was a little of both.

"Tala is the name my mother gave me. You may call me that Jon Snow." I said my goodbyes to Mance and left for my tent on the other side of the camp.

When Jon arrived at sunset, he had his white direwolf, Ghost, with him. It was strange to see such a sight, a Southerner with a wild beast as a pet. Jon Snow had more of the North in him than he knew. "Please come in, Jon Snow. The wolf may enter as well if you'd like." I welcomed them into my tent. I offered him a seat at my table and began to dish out the soup I made him. "You will eat this with your supper every night. It has many healing qualities," I stated as I placed a steaming bowl in front of him. Ghost stirred at Jon's feet as I approached. He nudged him with his boot, prompting the beast to stay put.

"It smells great. What's in it?" Jon questioned me curiously, breathing in the aroma. I sat down at the table next to him with a tray of hard cheeses and a variety of nuts and seeds. "You are kind, Jon Snow. It is a simple recipe, since we have so little of the things that we need here. I have cooked up some barley, turnips, peas, carrots, and onions in some bone broth."

Jon looked at me with interest. "How did you come by all this?" he asked, slowly sipping the hot broth. "Some through trading. But most is through raiding, I am sorry to say. I don't like stealing, but we must survive."

Jon looked up from his soup, smiling. "You are a good cook. Thank you for helping me." He blushed a little. I gently placed my hand on his and beamed at him. I could see that this made him a little uncomfortable. Still, he did not take his hand away. After a few long moments, Jon resumed eating his soup. He also snacked on the cheeses and nuts from the tray.

I brought out the rest of the meal for us to share; roast mutton with rosemary and sage, crusty bread, and a flagon of sweet summer wine we had acquired on our last raid. Jon fed Ghost some of his meat under the table, which he seemed to like very much. Jon and I shared many stories over our meal, laughing and enjoying each other's company.

"When we are finished eating, I will treat your hand with a poultice of herbs and flowers. It will need to stay in place for some time, so you will need to remain here for a while longer. I will also need to continue treating you until Mance sends you off."

Jon nodded courteously. "This is where I am meant to be it seems, Lady Tala."

"Tala will suffice, Jon," I replied with a chuckle. He was soon laughing too, and Ghost laid down at my feet, curling into a warm, furry ball. "He likes you!" Jon grinned, looking at Ghost under the table. "I like you too," he flushed, not sure how the words had escaped his lips.

I smiled at Jon warmly and said, "I am fond of Ghost. And I like you as well, Jon." He helped me clear the food away from the table. I sang quietly to myself as I set up for his treatment; melted beeswax, yellow and orange calendula flowers, bright purple lavender stalks, peppermint leaves, delicate chamomile flowers, soft cloths, and a bowl of cool water. He looked at me with inquiring eyes, but said nothing.

I mixed the flowers and herbs into the hot beeswax and waited for it to cool. "How did you burn yourself? This is one of the worst burns I have come across." I asked as I applied the paste to his hand.

"We were attacked by a wight. I couldn't stop it. So I grabbed a hot lantern. Fire seems to stop them." Jon winced a little when I wrapped his hand tightly with the cloth.

"They can't come back if they are ash, so we burn the dead." I closed my eyes and prayed to the gods to provide Jon with healing and strength.

A large gust of wind crashed against the tent, startling us. Ghost fretted to and fro until Jon let him out. When he opened the flap, I could see snow falling heavily and hear all the animals fussing; a terrible storm raged outside. Jon reluctantly let his wolf loose, knowing that he could not force him to stay. He sat down next to me again with a chill about him.

"I can scarcely see out there right now. I don't think it's wise to leave until the storm has passed," Jon said gently as he placed his hand on mine; his shyness was wearing thin. "I have plenty of pelts to keep us warm tonight. I will heat us some wine as well." Jon agreed, nodding his head.

Once I removed the dressing, Jon flexed his fingers with more dexterity. "It seems better already; it's less painful, and I am beginning to feel more sensation in my fingers," he stated confidently. "I cannot thank you enough for your kindness and generosity, Tala. You did not have to help me."

I poured the hot wine into two cups, one for each of us. "Who am I if I turn my back of those who are in need? I am here to serve others, and care for them the best I know how." Jon looked at me with those beautiful, dark eyes of his, revealing his vulnerability to me. I could see that his guard was down and was wide open for whatever would come next.

"We should sleep next to each other for warmth. It's going to get very cold tonight," I suggested as I hauled out the heavy furs from a basket.

"Yes, that would be wise," he replied favoring the idea. He helped me lay out the blankets on the bed. I could feel the tension building between us. "I have not slept in a bed since leaving Castle Black. I am rather looking forward to a good night's sleep."

We will not be getting much rest tonight, I thought to myself as I grabbed Jon by the hand. He pulled me close to him and wrapped his arms around my waist. Jon gazed into my eyes and whispered, "I want to do more than just sleep next to you." His soft, moist lips met mine. I could taste the wine on him as his delicious tongue tangled with mine. My body tingled with desire, spreading over me like wildfire. I giggled with delight as Jon kissed my neck, and nibbled at my throat lightly, leaving his heavenly signature behind.

"Come to me Jon Snow," I said lying down, legs parted. He soon met me there, his mouth locked with mine. Jon let out a quiet moan as I clutched the bulge in his trousers. The slit between my legs throbbed when I pulled out his manhood, stiff and thick. I urged him onto his back as I got on my knees, and my mouth tightly enveloped his member. I took in the length of him, and bobbed up and down hungrily on his juicy cock. Listening to Jon express his ecstasy made me want to fuck him all the more.

Jon grabbed me by the arm and brought me to his mouth to kiss him once more. I began to remove my clothes when Jon spoke quietly. "I, uh. I, um," the words were trapped in his mouth.

"What are you trying to say? Is everything okay?""

He blushed and spoke softly after a short pause. "I have only been with a woman one time before. I'm afraid that I won't please you."

I smiled at him tenderly and kissed his soft, red lips. "Don't be nervous. You are doing very well, Jon Snow. I know you won't disappoint me." As I undressed him, I could sense his nervousness fading; he began to release himself to the experience. We crawled under the thick layers of blankets for warmth, naked and hungry for one another. Jon explored my breasts, tenderly stroking and kissing them. I moaned when he latched on, flicking with his curious tongue and softly biting at my nipples.

I mounted Jon's iron hard cock, my entire body tightening when he entered. He held on to my hips and looked upon my face with intensity. After several strokes, I laid my body on his to get the angle I needed. Flashes of excitement overcame me when he kissed my neck and touched my breasts. I grabbed Jon's hand and showed him how to pleasure me between my legs. Jon was a tender and attentive lover; he had nothing to worry about. I continued to ride him until our bodies shook, screaming with ecstasy.

We laid in the warmth of each other's bodies, breathing heavily, and hearts racing. Soon the only sounds to be heard were the winds whistling and the wolves howling. Jon rolled over onto his side, pulled me close to him, and kissed me softly on the lips. Gazing into those dark eyes, I knew that I was falling in love with him.

#jon snow #jon snow smut #jon snow fluff #fluff and smut #A Song of Ice and Fire #game of thrones #Kit Harington #my story collection #game of thrones fanart #asoiaf fanfiction

[ruensroad]

Can I just... 36, Xicheng?

This is a brand new AU and probably not what you had in mind when you requested this prompt, sorry! I hope you enjoy regardless :D

Prompt from this list here.

Prompt 36 | “This is embarrassing but I had a bad dream and back home when this happens I normally just crawl into bed with my mom or sister but since they’re not here anymore can I sleep with you?” | Xicheng

There was something calming about the sound of the water. Even if his new life was nothing he had ever wanted or expected, he took comfort in how okay things had turned out. Bewildering, yes, but not dangerous. He had done his duty and had done it well. He was still alive, a surprise. He was married now too, a bigger surprise.

Considering he’d expected to drown and never even meet the Dragon God face to face… well. Lan Xichen chose to focus on the blessings and not what he’d been forced to leave behind. After all, his husband could have been a brute, or boorish, or cruel. Instead, he was kind, if a bit rough around the edges, and had treated Lan Xichen with nothing but absolute respect and compassion, leaving him to mourn his past life and come to terms with this future he never asked for.

Perhaps that was why he sought him out now, the last dredges of his nightmare still with its icy fingers in his chest, making it hard to breathe. Jiang Wanyin was not a warm god to be fair, but he was far from cold, and there was something about his sheer presence that was just as calming as the water that had lulled him to sleep every night since he’d become consort of this strange, wonderful place.

In his dreams he drowned with water roaring in his ears, his lungs bursting while he was still alive to feel them die. Odd then to find the river above so calming in its noise, like the rivers of home. Oh how he missed his people, his brother, the sound of the rain and the chill of snow. Here, there was no sun, no night, just a world encapsulated unseen under the lake and rivers rushing off of it.

He hadn’t drowned, but when he awoke he was still under water. And tonight it had been too much. Too much to be alone, again. So he walked the many paths, pavilion to pavilion, seeking Jiang Wanyin out.

He found him in the gardens, the seaweed standing in the open air with the same fluttering grace they had in the water. Lily pads opened like flower buds and lotus bloomed upon every touch of Jiang Wanyin’s hand. If Lan Xichen were in a far better state, he’d have appreciated the beauty of it more, the softness of his husband, his hair down and eyes far away.

Sad, so sad. Lonely. Lan Xichen felt guilt in the idea that his husband was just as lonesome as he was, but had refused to seek him out, giving him space to mourn and avoid him if that was what Lan Xichen wished.

Maybe it had been, at the start. But now…

“I thought you were sleeping,” Jiang Wanyin said by way of greeting, his soft edges sharpening back into the frown Lan Xichen was most used to. “Has something happened?”

Faced with the truth, Lan Xichen faltered. Now that he thought of it, who was he to bother a god about a mere nightmare? Married or not, Jiang Wanyin owed him nothing.

But the idea of his bed, too large and cold for just himself, kept him from retreat. He sighed, feeling the ache of exhaustion, and was surprised when his arms were gently cradled by Jiang Wanyin’s hands, bracketing him in place. Warm magic flooded over his body, soothing him, and he leaned into it, just a little, because oh, oh how he’d missed touch.

“What is the matter, husband?” Jiang Wanyin asked, the word slightly stiff in his otherwise smooth voice. “What robs you of your dreams tonight?”

“A nightmare,” Lan Xichen admitted, feeling like a fool, but Jiang Wanyin only nodded seriously, giving him the courage to continue. “Back home… my nightmares were few, but when they happened I had the comfort of my brother to soothe me. He would sit with me and allow me to share his space for the night, so that I may be comforted by his presence.”

Jiang Wanyin tilted his head, a human motion but oddly animal-like, and his dark, dark eyes took on an odd, violet sheen. “You do not wish to be alone tonight,” Jiang Wanyin connected the dots, considering that with a furrow in his brow.

“I know it is not fair to ask. You had as little choice in our union as I did,” Lan Xichen assured him quickly. “Do not feel obligated to share my bed tonight, husband. I can find peace in your gardens, watching the flowers, if I may be allowed to stay?”

“My home is your home, whatever you wish,” Jiang Wanyin told him, as firmly as he had the very first time he’d said it, when he’d taken Lan Xichen’s hands and kissed them, looking like he was grieving, and left him to his own devices on the night that was their wedding night. After that, Jiang Wanyin had been polite and withdrawn, treating Lan Xichen like a proper guest.

Lan Xichen had been glad of the distance, but now as he looked into the Dragon God’s eyes, he only saw his own loneliness and guilt and knew it was unfair to continue as they had.

So, it was with more confidence than he’d thought he could muster as he spoke. “Come to bed with me. I do not wish to be alone tonight.” Or any night, he thought, but did not say. There would be time for such things when he was in a far better mindset and not running from a death that had never happened.

A slow nod, then Jiang Wanyin held out his arm. “I will chase your nightmares away,” he promised, a slight growl in his throat. It should not have been reassuring, sensing that animal inside his husband, but it was.

Lan Xichen took the offered arm and let himself be led inside, to warm rooms and a ceiling of coiling water, to a bed double his own and covered in blankets so soft they brought tears to his eyes.

“Sleep,” Jiang Wanyin bid and moved about the room to blow out the candles, one by one. “I will watch over you.”

Lan Xichen let himself fall into the pillows, to the sound of water and the low hum of his husband extinguishing the light. Jiang Wanyin’s presence filled the room with a spice that teased at his nose, tickling in his chest. He breathed in and out, slowly, and let the magic of Jiang Wanyin’s protection wash away the last of the chill.

“Thank you,” he murmured and felt a hand on his forehead, gently pressing, the rush of soothing magic trickling into him like snowfall.

“Sleep,” Jiang Wanyin said again, voice low and far away. Lan Xichen smiled a little and closed his eyes, dreaming of flying in an endless blue, of laughter and soft promises in the dark.

Lan Xichen awoke smiling, feeling refreshed and born anew.

He never slept alone again.

#ruenwrites #xicheng #dragon god au #jiang cheng #lan xichen #hope this was okay! #thanks for prompting me! #writing prompts

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

Fate’s Divergence Chapter 4

@the-bagel-queen

@astraskylark

@theanxiety-tm

@terra-mations

@deyinger

Thank you all for so much support for this story! I’m glad people are enjoying it so far!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragon Prince

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

Callum tossed and turned, restless, in his bed. His eyes drifted to the moon, its glow reminding him of the elf girl’s white hair. He wondered what she was doing right now. Was she sleeping soundly? Was she restless just like him?

He hoped she was comfortable. He remembered his first night as a prince in the palace. He was super jumpy—constantly startling at any shadows in his new room. Everything was so foreign to him…

He sat up, a realization dawning on him. He had at least his mother when he first came here to help him settle into sleep while she didn’t appear to have anyone. His mother and the king didn’t mention she had any family. Was she an orphan?

Callum rose out of bed, his mind trying to uncover the mystery of the elf girl. He remembered how his family said Xadia couldn’t help her—was she upset Xadia kicked her out because she helped humans with the Titan’s heart?

“She must be lonely…” Callum whispered to himself, grabbing some stuffed animals to take with him to give her. “I’ll give her some of my toys to make her feel more at home!” He concluded quietly, smiling at his great idea.

He surveyed each toy critically, making sure to grab the dragon stuffed animal as well as tons of other animals. He hoped these made her happy. They were gifts from his mother and auntie. Hopefully, she didn’t think him too babyish for having them.

“It should be fine. Girls usually like stuffed animals…” Callum tried to reassure himself, remembering Claudia proudly showing off to him her own collection of stuffed toys. With that assertion, Callum crept out of his room, struggling with all his stuffed animals in his arms, and snuck down the hallways to where he remembered was the elf’s room. Luckily there were no guards patrolling down his hallway yet or else they definitely would notice a small boy almost drowned in stuffed animals. Arms overflowing with the plushies, he felt he dropped some before finally getting to his destination.

Arriving at her door, Callum silently opened it, sneaking inside. As soon as he opened the door, however, he could hear crying. Alarmed, Callum hurried inside the elf’s room, closing the door behind him so no one would catch him.

There she was on the bed, curling into a ball and sobbing her heart out. Callum’s heart squeezed uncomfortably at the scene. The moonlight washed over her like a pretty glow, highlighting her snow-white hair, horns, and pink pale skin. Seeing her, Callum was reminded of the beautiful princess with long hair trapped in her tower waiting for someone to come see her.

Dropping the toys, he scurried over to her side and laid a hand on her shoulder, not reserved at all in touching her.

The elf seemed to have finally realized she wasn’t alone for as soon as he touched her, she jolted and gazed up at him. Callum retracted his hand hurriedly, not wanting to scare her, and held up his hands in surrender.

“Hi!” he said, nervous and waving awkwardly. What should he say? He knew she didn’t speak Common and he didn’t speak Elvish. “Um! Don’t cry! I’m not gonna hurt you!”

Her eyes lit up in recognition, and she backed away a bit from him, scared.

“Hurt?” her eyes were alarmed and Callum rushed to reassure her.

“No! No hurt! I come in peace!” he tried to convey. He hoped she knew some more words.

“No… hurt?” this time, the elf furrowed her brow in confusion, trying to grasp what he was saying. He detected her voice had a strange accent.

“Right! No hurt! Just here to help!” Callum smiled reassuring her. He hurried to where the toys were discarded and brought them to her. “Here! I brought these to help you feel better!” Callum excitedly showed her his toys.

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

Rayla blinked, not expecting the human child to show her what she presumed to be his toys. Her hand reached out tentatively, the boy watching her with an encouraging smile. She paused.

“No hurt?” Rayla checked again, her suspicious eyes finding his, ready to detect any sort of lie. The boy nodded.

“No hurt.” He assured her again. He climbed onto the bed, getting closer to her, before showing her his toys again. “No hurt.” He repeated.

Rayla studied him, and found he was not lying. The boy was not there to hurt her. She traced his features with her violet eyes, remembering him with her kidnappers. It seemed he was their offspring.

What did this mean? Was he not aware she was going to be executed? And yet, his presence here, the fact that her door wasn’t locked like she thought, her kidnappers being gentle with her… all signs were pointing to possibly another reason she was here.

But… the titan’s heart! She saw it. Why else would these humans keep an elf if it wasn’t for Dark Magic? She remembered Runaan’s stories. How humans only wanted power and nothing else. They were heartless and cruel.

So why was a human child sharing his toys with her?

Rayla reached out a hand again, hesitantly petting the soft fabric. The boy’s smile grew in happiness, and he handed her the dragon plush.

“I know you can’t go home to Xadia, but this guy will always protect you! He’s like your Dragon King, right?” the boy asked. Rayla furrowed her brow, trying to pinpoint words she recognized, and found he was referring to her king. She gazed down at the stuffed toy, and sure enough, he did resemble her king.

“Amin aran…” Rayla mumbled in mourning, touching the stuffed toy. Tears shined in her eyes, and the boy began to panic.

“Oh no! He wasn’t supposed to make you cry! Do you want another toy?” the boy asked, but Rayla couldn’t understand him. She clutched the dragon toy tight to her chest, shaking her head. She wished someone knew Elvish so she could talk to someone. She appreciated the boy’s efforts, but it wasn’t the same as Runaan or Ethari or her parents.

However, the boy surprised her again when he crawled over and hugged her to his small frame.

“No hurt!” the boy repeated. He gestured to the stuffed toy and himself. “No hurt. You’re safe here.”

Rayla sniffled. It seemed he was trying to comfort her. She didn’t understand why. She didn’t understand humans at all. She was tired and scared. The boy held her close as she cried, clutching the stuffed dragon between them.

Somehow, his embrace made her feel less alone.

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

Sarai had risen early. She was accustomed to this since having Ezran, for he needed feeding in the early hours. Harrow was dressing for the day, preparing for today’s event of Viren’s spell. Both he and Sarai were solemn, knowing what the kingdom of Duran lost in order for them all to be saved.

“We will meet the delegates of Duran first before performing the spell.” Harrow told her. He gazed down at the memento the queens have given him to deliver to their daughter. “We need to pay respects.”

“I agree. If it wasn’t for them buying us some time, we wouldn’t have made it.” Sarai was also thinking about little Aanya. She couldn’t imagine how Aanya would grow up now, without the love of her mothers.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the doors.

“King Harrow! Queen Sarai!” the guard called. Harrow went to open the doors. The guard was huffing, as if he had run all the way to their chambers.

“What is it?” Harrow asked. The guard gave them a frantic look.

“Prince Callum is not in his bed, Your Highnesses!” the guard informed them. Sarai and Harrow immediately went to follow the guard.

“Where could he be? He usually doesn’t wake this soon after sunrise.” Sarai carried Ezran with her, clutching him close, as if afraid some unseen force would take him as well.

“Don’t worry, Sarai. We’ll find him.” Harrow reassured her. He gave a determined look at the guard. “Search everywhere! If he was taken, they couldn’t have gone far.”

Soon Amaya was called to join in the search, as well as some other soldiers. The more time passed, the more they worried something could’ve happened to Callum. It isn’t like him to leave his room and not come to the royal bedchambers if he had woken early.

Passing through a hallway, Amaya noticed some stuffed animals on the floor. She recognized them as Callum’s immediately. Curious, she followed the trail of more stuffed toys before she arrived at a bedroom door.

Amaya gently opened the door, peaking inside, her eyes critically taking in the surroundings before landing on the large bed in the middle of the room, the gentle glow of the morning sun shining on the occupants in the bed. The sight that greeted her made her eyes soften. She waved to a guard passing by to get the king and queen. Soon, her sister and her husband were rushing down the hall.

“Is he hurt?” Sarai fretted. Amaya smirked.

It seems your boy is getting his flirting started early. Amaya said. She held open the door. Look inside.

Sarai, Harrow, and a few guards peaked in, and sure enough, Callum was safe and sound, and he was cuddling the elf girl to him in his slumber. The elf girl allowed Callum to snuggle her, clutching his stuffed dragon Sarai had given him close. Everyone felt their hearts warm at the scene.

“We were so concerned with giving the elf privacy we didn’t think to check here at all.” Harrow whispered. Sarai gave him a smile.

“We certainly are silly.” Sarai agreed. She, Harrow, and Amaya made their way into the room, dismissing the guards. Sarai went towards Callum, caressing his cheek. “Callum, sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.”

“’m comfy…” Callum groggily protested, bringing the elf girl closer. Harrow, Sarai, and Amaya had to contain their giggles. However, it was Ezran who decided there was enough quiet.

Baby Ezran gave a loud shout, wanting to join his brother on the bed, and Callum and the elf girl sprung up, disoriented and startled. Callum wouldn’t let go of the elf girl, trying to protect her, before he realized it was just his family. Sighing in relief, he eased his grip off of the elf girl and smiled sleepily.

“Hi mom!” Callum yawned. He then became more aware and gave them a quizzical look. “Did something happen? Why is everyone here?”

Ezran, seeing his big brother awake, held out his arms from Sarai’s hold to indicate he wanted to be with him. Sarai gave both her boys a fond smile.

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetie. We just didn’t know where you were.” Sarai reassured him.

“Oh, I was with Moonlily!” Callum simply said, standing on the bed and going to give Ezran a kiss. The three adults were confused.

“Moonlily?” Harrow parroted.

“Yeah! We don’t know her name yet and she reminds me of those pretty flowers I saw in a book about Xadia once, so I am going to call her my Moonlily!” Callum told them happily, gesturing to the elf who was watching them warily from the bed. He turned back to the elf, grasping her hands, pulling her to stand on the bed too. “Moonlily! Come here!”

“Boy works fast.” Harrow teased Sarai, who rolled her eyes, but she was also smiling.

As for the elf, she eyed them with distrust, which Callum noticed, and he rushed to soothe her.

“No hurt you!” Callum told the elf. The elf girl gave him a skeptical look.

“No… hurt.” She said, doubtful. Callum turned to the adults.

“I think she thinks we’re going to hurt her. I found her crying last night and she seemed really sad.” Callum frowned at them. “We’re not going to, right?” he began to panic, thinking he put his Moonlily in danger.

“No, sweetheart! Of course not.” Sarai immediately reassured Callum.

“She’s our guest here, Callum. No harm will come to her as long as I am king.” Harrow promised. Callum sighed in relief.

“That’s good. I don’t know how to tell her she’s safe.” Callum appeared sad. “It hurts when she cries.”

Harrow, Amaya, and Saria exchanged looks before glancing towards the elf who was watching them with suspicion. Sarai put Ezran down on the bed, and the elf watched fascinated at the baby human boy crawling to her. She knelt down on the covers, reaching out a hand shyly.

Ezran didn’t waste time and clutched some of her small fingers with his even smaller ones. He giggled happily at the feel of her skin, and the elf couldn’t help but smile nervously.

“Vedui' ai Edan” the elf said. Sarai couldn’t help but give a smile at the wonderful scene.

“Little one,” Sarai called, making the elf glance at her. “We won’t hurt you. Please don’t be afraid.” She reached a hand out and ruffled Ezran’s hair, who gave a shout of delight.

The elf examined her critically, and the three adults made sure to appear non-threatening as possible. The elf chanced a look at Callum and Ezran again, appearing pensive about whether or not to trust them.

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

Rayla observed the adults in the room, weighing their words—or the ones she did know—in her head. It appeared they too, were not trying to hurt her.

If they meant her no harm, then why did they take her from Xadia? Rayla was frustrated. She wanted answers, but it was clear with the language barrier she wasn’t going to get them.

It was clear to her they were in Xadia now to get a magma titan’s heart, but for what? And why? If she knew these things, she could find it easier to determine motives, to judge for herself if she was truly out of harm’s way or not.

Rayla couldn’t help but chance a look at the human boy and his baby brother. They gave her happy smiles in return. The boy really didn’t think his family was going to hurt her.

For now, she would have to believe in him.

She turned to the three adults watching her curiously, and got up, picking up the baby human and handing him to her kidnapper.

“No hurt?” Rayla checked again, looking for any deception.

“No, little one.” The woman said, smiling gently, taking the baby into her arms. “No hurt.”

Rayla sighed in relief, nearly collapsing on the bed. It wasn’t all the answers or everything she needed to know, but it was knowledge that was comforting all the same.

For Rayla, that was all that mattered for now.  

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

There’s chapter 4! I hope people enjoyed the Callum and Rayla interactions!

Translations:

Amin aran = My king

Vedui' ai Edan = greetings small human

#rayllum #raylum #rayllum fanfic #rayla x callum #callum x rayla #the dragon prince #dragon prince #tdp #tdp rayllum #sarai #queen sarai #general amaya #amaya #king harrow #prince ezran #ezran #callum #rayla #canon divergence #canon divergence au

[mimiplaysgames]

Beloved Memories, in Notes (Vol. VII)

Pairing: Aqua/Terra Rating: T (for horror elements) Word Count: 11,074

Summary: His mission was to be her friend, but she didn’t want any. Terra and Aqua meet. Terra is 9, Aqua is 8.

Read on AO3

A/N: This chapter was always going to be the angsty one of this collection (kind of, it ends well). This specific story is honestly my favorite in this collection, and I’m so excited to move on with it. I’m very proud of the ending to this tale, and I just want to be able to cover it lmao.

****

A Tale of Stars, Pt. 2

It was hot, and it sucked.

There was still hay sticking to Terra's arms after he brushed them all off, his sweat just as sticky as the humidity that clinched him. The Master was in just as much of a grumpy mood.

Cows always made Terra laugh though, and Abigail's moos were a welcome cheer for a morning that could either go really well or really badly. Terra needed to be on his best behavior, for this was his very first mission - and he barely even started real Keyblade training.

He already had a to-do list to make him successful. The first step (and the most important): to be Aqua's friend.

But this was also the hardest.

Aqua was in the backyard, pumping water into a pail out of an iron press, before dragging it back to the Widow Tweed's quaint farmhouse, with Tod the fox tailing her feet closely. He noticed that she barely gave either of them the courtesy of a glance when they strolled out of Abigail's barn.

An owl stood at a tree watching them, and Terra didn't know which was weirder: that an owl was out at dawn, or that it enjoyed the company of a sparrow and a woodpecker.

Mrs. Tweed handed them their breakfast (plain old sausage with a sprinkle of salt), and Terra only finished half when Aqua appeared again, hair in classic long pigtails as usual, with Tod following her like he was her best friend. She straggled toward the woods in a daze that made her seem more like a zombie than anything, as if this was the most basic routine for the most basic day and she didn't know what else there was to do.

"You should join her," he heard the Master say.

Terra chewed on his meat with spite. "She doesn't like me."

"She does not know you as a person."

"Still hates me."

"Then she'd be the fool," Eraqus said with confidence. "To pass judgment on mere glance would say much about her and nothing of you… You still have your responsibilities, however, so you must try."

Terra stopped a piece from reaching his mouth, his fingers grasped tightly around his fork. "What if she says no?"

"Then you respect her decision."

A more frightening possibility crept into his mind. "What if she says yes?"

"Then you join her." Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Terra stuffed as much sausage into his mouth until his cheeks almost burst because he hated all the answers and pouted at his Master. It didn't work.

"Continue with that and your cheeks will sag," the Master grinned.

The image of long flabby cheeks terrified him, so brave Terra faced his fears, swallowed all the sausage at once (which hurt), and raced over before she disappeared into the trees. This was still a mission, and he was still being tested.

"Aqua," he panted, and she at least treated him with the decency of acknowledging his presence. "Are you going out to play?"

"Yeah," she said lowly. Honestly, she looked super-exhausted, despite that it was morning.

"Can I join you?"

She turned and left him behind. "Sure."

Now what was Terra supposed to do? Follow, he supposed.

Aqua walked with the grace of someone who memorized where all the uplifted tree roots would snag her, barely putting any thought of where to step her feet while Terra took an extra second or two just to make sure he wouldn't trip. Tod led the way, excitedly rushing onward only to have to come back because they were going too slow for him.

They walked in silence - Terra didn't know what to talk about.

Toys - does she still have any? Pets - I don't know a thing about them, much less foxes. School - well, we obviously don't take the same classes, and I don't study math, so we can't even talk about something we hate.

Her silence sucked just as much as the heat, and why, oh why did Terra have to deal with this?

They reached a pond, where a creek ran the end of its trail into its reservoir, and willow trees overlooking the surface and dragonflies dancing on longrass.

"Do you want to skip rocks?" Terra asked. "It's really fun."

She sat on a log, bringing her knees to her chin and saying nothing in return.

Tod went ahead and buried his nose in the crooks of pebbles that littered the ground, sometimes yipping at something he found, which were mostly uninteresting - frogs, maybe.

"It's really hot," Terra said, and he didn't know if she agreed - she said nothing.

"Maybe we can swim?" he asked, and immediately blushed. Normally he'd strip to his shorts but he probably shouldn't be asking girls to take off their clothes to go swimming with him.

Again, she said nothing, her eyes drifting off into some made-up land. Terra had never seen a child, even at the orphanage, who looked this horrible.

The adults running the orphanage always said that having parents was the best thing that could ever happen, and that each child could have a pair as long as they behaved well. Terra never really wondered if having them (or losing them) would hurt just as much, too.

It was suddenly too quiet. Tod stopped his hustling of innocent forest insects, and slumped his shoulders while he waited.

He and Aqua looked the same: abandoned.

Finally, she spoke. "Copper is late."

"The hounddog?"

"He always comes," she said with a tighter grip around her knees, like she was remembering a punishment.

Copper was late and Tod was sad about it, too. That was what hurt them: missing someone.

Aqua huffed, willing whatever cloudy thoughts that haunted her to go away and stood up with her head held high, marching deeper into the forest. If Terra didn't know any better, he'd say that she was ready to punch somebody.

He and Tod followed, and it turned out that they hiked somewhere uphill, where they eventually reached a rundown farm within several acres of empty land, half-neglected and half-loved.

She gasped - Copper was there, a rope tied around his neck for a leash, where the weight of an empty barrel kept him grounded. Nearby, a much, much bigger gray dog snuggled in his own barrel and snored.

The children sneaked up to the wooden fence that marked the beginning of the forest and the end of this farm's territory. Aqua held Tod closely, quieting his fidgeting and stopping him from racing across to the dogs.

"Mr. Slade is so mean," she whispered with disdain. "He's always trying to keep Copper and Tod apart. Who would do such a thing?"

It was still Terra's opinion that a fox and a hound were strange friends indeed considering their nature.

Maybe he expected Aqua to know better, and yet here she was on the verge of going back to hiding in her mind.

Well, his mission was to be her friend, and he read in books in that friends made each other happy. If she wanted Tod and Copper to play together, as weird as that was, then he was going to do just that.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, Tod squirming more in her arms.

Terra had lifted one leg in between the logs barring up the fence, and ducked under to get to the other side. "I'm getting Copper, what does it look like?"

"Chief will hear you."

If she was talking about the snoring dog, then he didn't know what she was so worried about. Terra was training to be a Keyblade Master, after all, what was a mangey old mutt going to do?

"I can sneak."

"You're going to get in trouble," she barked like a mean teacher.

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will."

He liked her less when she talked.

"Calm down." He dismissed her with a wave and crept, keeping his body close to the ground as he waddled over, the grass patches taller than him. This farm really needed a lawnmower.

Aqua huddled behind a bush, watching him closely and mumbling small prayers to herself as she kept a firm hand around Tod's snout. She worried too much.

Terra, on the other hand, crawled confidently - he was more afraid of Mr. Slade catching him in the act than of an old, tired dog sniffing him out.

He chose to do this for her, and was going to see it through.

Copper was very smart and perceptive, understanding the consequences of being caught by a large quadruped such as Chief, so he shied away from Terra at first.

Of course, Copper was still a young puppy, and the moment Terra followed through on some unspoken promise of releasing him from his prison, he yipped.

"Shhh," Terra said, ever so gently holding Copper's snout. He held his breath for a few seconds, Chief wiggling and kicking his feet from the sudden noise -

Only to go back to sleep.

Terra was more relieved than he wanted to admit. "Don't you wanna play with your friend?" he whispered, and started to head back to Aqua and Tod with the puppy riding in his arms.

But then Chief finally got a whiff, and finally started barking.

Chief spit, Chief noticed exactly who was in Terra's arms, and when he did, Chief lunged with a loud growl. Terra's heart jumped straight up into his throat at the sight of such carnivores, and he swallowed it back into place.

Luck smiled on him though, since Terra only managed to escape because Chief, too, was leashed.

Aqua immediately bolted back into the thicket, with Terra and a pup in his arms following closely, the bark of an angry, old man inching closer, throwing a gunshot for a warning but even then, that faded into the background, too.

*****

Tod and Copper reuniting turned Aqua into a different person - though she was still stuffy, ungrateful at worst, as she yapped about how they were teaching these little innocent animals terrible lessons that could get them into trouble later on, and wasn't this considered dognapping, blah blah blah.

(Honestly, it wasn't dognapping if they were going to return Copper, right?)

But - and that was a huge but - Aqua was at least more willing to talk, more brave to look him in the eye when she did (he realized she had very large, bright eyes, making it hard not to stare).

Who knew that all he had to do was steal someone's pet to open her up?

He could have snarked back by saying that she wasn't a perfect princess either since she was now happy that Tod and Copper were together, but he kept his mouth shut.

She did make some good points, after all. If the Master ever found out what he did, he'd fail the mission.

But... if he didn't do this for her, then she would definitely refuse to be his friend, and that meant he failed, too.

Ugh, Mr. Slade shouldn't have been a jerk in the first place because he made Terra's life miserable (and everyone else's included).

As Tod and Copper rolled in the dirt, Terra kicked a rock and said, "No one should know."

She fiddled with her apron, her dress sprawled over the log they sat on. "Okay. I won't tell a soul."

The worst feeling was keeping this from the Master, and Terra never expected this would ever happen in his entire life.

Was it worth it?

He didn't know. He knew he felt content when Copper approached him with a wagging tail, when the pup crawled onto his lap for a short snooze, alongside his best friend Tod, who helped himself to Aqua's lap.

They looked peaceful, like they had been given a second chance at something important to them. Terra felt like he was a hero, which was always what he wanted to be… and the Master did always say to do what was his heart told him was right.

So would he really get into that much trouble if Terra argued that this was the right thing to do?

Maybe.

That uncertainty was too much of a risk, and Terra didn't know how to feel.

It suddenly dawned on him - this was his first secret that he shared with someone else. Anyone else in his entire nine-year-life!

Wait, it wasn't like they actually promised to keep it to themselves - they merely agreed to never speak about it. She gave him a simple nod when she complied, afraid of the consequences that would chase her if it ever got out. It was not a pinky-squeeze, not a handspit, or a blood oath.

He understood perfectly. This was about survival, not friendship.

*****

By evening, Mr. Slade blamed Tod for the dognapping - he didn't actually see the fox though, and therefore had no basis for his arguments.

The Master's presence was imposing enough to shut it all down. Eraqus was so much taller than Amos Slade that a shotgun to the chest didn't really diminish how intimidating he was, and since everyone thought of him as an investigator, his dismissal of the Case of the Missing Puppy was final.

By morning, it was time for Aqua to go back to school, and Eraqus offered to take her (for protection protocol).

The three of them traversed twisted, muddy backroads to the town square, since the main road would take her right by her destroyed house and it was best to avoid all of that for now. It would have been a pretty stroll, tucked away in the forest trees with the sun shining through the canopies, if it wasn't for the heat. Terra couldn't wait to leave this world and never come back.

It didn't help that Aqua wasn't very receptive to Eraqus trying to open conversations with her, and it left Terra feeling like he had to start back at square one all over again. It was a wonder how the Master didn't feel so personally attacked by her silence.

Being such a small world where everyone knew everything, the people in town cast looks on Aqua as they walked by, whispering gossip and identifiers as they pointed to the girl whose parents were brutally murdered in a town where such things never happened.

When they approached the schoolhouse, children gathered in the windows to look down on her as she crept closer to the entrance, and while Terra couldn't hear what they were saying, they were absolutely riled up like she was a spectacle at a zoo. It was rude.

Since Terra couldn't join her because he wasn't a student, Eraqus took him to the public library - a small wooden thing that was pathetic in comparison to the castle's massive archive.

Eraqus left him behind so Terra wouldn't be in danger, since he was going straight to the outskirts of the town to investigate the last sightings of the demon wrecking this town apart, appearing as a man seemingly named Ardyn.

The Master had only one request: "Let us not kidnap any more puppies today, shall we?"

Terra feigned innocence. "Sir?" When that didn't work, he continued, "Yes, sir."

Equipped with only one ceiling fan for reprieve (it barely worked to keep him cool), Terra busied himself to a number of random books; a good Keyblade wielder spent his time studying about the world he was investigating, as it helped him fit in better.

He tried really hard to be quiet - really, he did. He was the only one there aside from the librarian, a young woman wearing a bun and glasses that made her look older. But he did a spectacular job at being noisy even though it wasn't his fault; the wooden floorboards under him just wouldn't stop squeaking with every step he took.

It turned out that Terra didn't have to be so respectful with keeping up the integrity of the library - a young guy marched into the library, his muddy boots stomping like crackling whips onto the wood beneath.

Immediately, he and the librarian hit it off like they were flirting, and Terra wondered why he ever tried so hard being quiet.

Much of the talk was boring - news of someone's married cousin, and whether she had time Saturday night to go look at some horses… Hopefully she realized that this guy chatting her up was the lamest of the lame and she wouldn't agree to it.

She dodged his question entirely by changing the subject, acting like she didn't hear him. This was where it got interesting - she brought up the subject of the murderer, and asked the guy if he heard anything new.

"Yer tellin' me you didn' hear?" he gargled. His teeth were yellow. "They found the preacher's daughter."

The librarian hesitated. "Is she…?"

He shook his head. "All mangled up by the river. Funny thing is the fog's still rollin' when it shouldn'." He wasn't creeped out about the death, but acted like he was important enough to deliver such news. "Word is she was covered in oil when they found her."

The librarian at least had the decency to be upset. "The poor thing. Who found her?"

"That investigator comin' from the city." They were talking about the Master. Terra pretended to read, with one stack of finished books to his left, and a dwindling shorter stack of unread ones to his right, but he inched a little closer to listen more. The man continued, "If he hadn' found her, she'd continue ter sit there and rot."

Images of the Master finding a dead body burned in Terra's mind. Eraqus was strong, always had been - a hero had adopted Terra the day they met. But suddenly it scared him to think about the Master following Ardyn's trail.

"Makes me wonder," the man continued, his finger lifted in the air as if to make a point, "if Jim Bob'll get his fair share."

"Jim Bob, was that the one who beat his horses?"

"Is that what you 'eard?" He pulled on his suspenders. "Ha! I 'eard he poisoned 'em."

"Well, I don't believe any of it. Jim Bob loves his horses, I figured that nastiness was the work of that creeper."

"Did ya hear? Jim Bob claims the creeper doin' all of this lives in his paintings. Crazy loon. And 'pparently the creeper fancies hisself a fedora. Can you believe that?"

The librarian leaned forward, making sure she heard correctly. "You don't say?"

At this, Terra stood up, and the two adults suddenly quieted, as if their conversation was too inappropriate for a kid.

Not like Terra cared, waltzing up to the front desk with a very specific task in mind.

"Ma'am," he began, giving her a smile. "May I ask for a book about fedoras?"

She blushed at the proof that he heard their every word. "W-what are you needing, exactly?"

"I want to know what one looks like." Terra smiled wider, ignoring the way the man cleaned his own teeth with his tongue.

The librarian nodded quickly, like she had just been given orders by someone very important, and rushed off to find a book from a nearby shelf. She did Terra the favor of flipping through it for him, handing it over with pages showing off hats: fedoras, some with large rims, others short, all of them with similar dips at the top.

"You're a very smart boy," he heard her say, making him look up.

"Thank you, ma'am."

She squealed with glee. "And so very polite, too, they don't make kids like you these days no more." She leaned on her hands, looking down on him from her desk. "I've never seen you 'round here before."

Terra cleared his throat. He was instructed to tell very specific stories should anyone ask. "I'm from the city, miss."

She leaned further at the sound of his answer, like he was just as much of a specimen - it reminded him of the way people gawked at Aqua. "You don't happen to be the investigator's son now, are you?"

My dad?

That was right, if anyone asked, he was supposed to agree. Eraqus was so focused on proper obedience that the most proper way to address him was always "Master," and Terra wondered if it meant he was doing something bad if he lied about their relationship.

Was he, really, if he was lying for a mission?

Either way, it made him feel good to say yes.

*****

When school was over, Terra had instructions to find her.

He'd spent so long being the only kid at the Land of Departure that seeing a mass of children rummaging through the school grounds was like a punch to his heart, reminding him of the orphanage. It made him wonder how the ones he left behind were doing… did they find parents? Did they still hope for some or did they give up? What about Miss Quistis, the lady who ran the orphanage - was she still there? She always smiled.

Terra spotted Aqua, surrounded by other girls and one boy, who asked her incessant questions and ate all of her answers. Aqua was either uncomfortable or shy - he couldn't tell.

This was where Terra was completely useless, making new friends. He was going to be a Keyblade Master, a hero and savior to anyone who needed help, so sure, he'd be brave in the face of danger, or in the game between life and death.

But he remembered the lesson he kept facing again and again at the orphanage: other kids didn't want him around.

So he did what he thought he'd never do again: sit on a bench by himself and watch the others talk and play ball.

He was already so good at staring at rocks that he didn't notice that another child approached him -

Aqua, with her hand extended. He almost thought she wanted him to save her from her nosy friends, but he wasn't going to be fooled that he was necessary in a predicament like this.

"Come play with us," she said.

What was that about being a savior when she was the one to save him?

He was shaking when he took her hand, and didn't know if he was shaking harder as she led him through groups of wandering kids that broke off into their own cliques. Mostly he just stood there when she introduced him to her friends, and needed verbal permission to play skip rope with them.

Terra was smart and got the hang of it, and let himself enjoy some of the games - that is, until the other kids gaped with eyes wide open at someone behind him. The yard surrounding the school dulled into silence - and it wasn't because the kids went home.

Some pudgy kid with a round face, a mean look, a swollen eye, and oily hair approached their group, and with such vigor that everyone else made space for him, like he was king and they were terrified of him, and he knew he terrified them and he took pride in that.

"Looks like the cursed girl is back," he chipped in, and no one had anything to retort.

"Shut up, Pap," Aqua snarked, and the other kids stared in shock.

"Best be on the lookout or else being 'round her will curse your parents, too," he said with cackle, searching for nods of agreement from the other children nearby. He was a giant of a child, definitely a head taller than Terra.

What was most surprising was how literally no one mentioned how cruel that was to say - it nearly made Terra want to punch this Pap in the face… but adults always punished him for getting into fights.

Aqua's lip quivered for a moment before she went cold. "The only reason why no one went after your dad was because his breath stinks. Who'd go near him?"

Pap's face twitched at the sound of giggles from the other kids. "You know," he said with a crunch of his knuckles, "Preacher said your parents must have sinned an awful lot to get what was coming to 'em."

Terra searched for any adults who might be watching. There was no one.

Pap continued his crap. "So yer one to talk. I normally don't hit girls."

"Try me!" Aqua shrieked, pushing him like she didn't care in the world what could happen to her.

That pissed Pap off.

He went ahead, fist in the air for a clean strike.

Despite urging him on, Aqua scrunched her fists into her skirt, like she didn't know what she got herself into.

Terra had no choice.

Grabbing the fist, twisting the arm over, and tripping Pap by the ankle came so fluidly, so naturally, that all the children blinked once just to realize that his huge butt landed on the ground before he even got close to Aqua.

"That was easy," Terra smirked, now standing in between an idiot covered in dirt and Aqua.

It was easy. No one compared to Master Eraqus.

There were some loud gasps and name-calling from the crowd, followed by silence.

"Y-you don't belong here, ain't got no reason to-" Pap's surprised stutters and the drool coming out of his mouth was the first sign of him turning his heel and leaving them alone, yelling something like "I'mma tell my pa!" before he disappeared.

The crowd dissipated slowly, giving Terra and Aqua stares like they were the next most dangerous thing. Like they were freaks, even though Terra had just stood up to the one bully terrorizing them. Why? Not even her friends wanted to be near her, acting like she wasn't even there.

Aqua sniffled behind him, but she just left him alone when he asked if she was okay, taking a place on a bench near the road.

Maybe Terra was used to that by now, but he followed her, paying no mind how she refused to look at him. "Don't think about Pap, he's stupid," he said.

"He is stupid," she croaked, before raising her voice to a yell. "And school is stupid and everything is stupid."

She glared at her lap and Terra didn't know what to say. The other children eventually left the school in droves, some walking together to wherever they've decided to go, while others had their parents pick them up.

"Who usually picks you up?" Terra asked after a while, hating the silence.

Aqua raised her head to meet him in the eye. She didn't cry, but she looked like a pet anxiously waiting at a windowsill for its owner. She looked like Tod.

"My daddy."

Terra didn't have a good reply to that. Eraqus wasn't around - Eraqus wasn't around, and a horrid thought lurked in his stomach. What if they were both now left alone here for good?

It lasted for merely a second. Thankfully.

"I apologize for my late arrival," the Master said, which didn't matter. He still came and Terra found his breath again. "Would any of you like treats? Maybe some flavored ice for this dastardly weather?" He wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

Aqua didn't reply, but reached out to hold his hand with both of hers, and hid her face in his robe. Terra was still processing whatever it was that made him nauseous.

Eraqus smiled but acted like nothing out of the ordinary happened. "I am quite fond of lemon flavor myself."

******

The walk back to Mrs. Tweed's farm seemed longer, and the Master filled it with random stories of the games he used to play as a child. Terra had heard some stories about the past before, but Eraqus left out certain key details that would have marked him as a foreigner to this world, and one day Terra would have to do the same.

Aqua didn't say much, just gripped the Master's hand tightly as she followed him, her eyes lazy and missing, like the road she was staring at didn't exist.

It didn't matter that she never spoke back, the Master kept looking over his shoulder to see if she was listening, smiling at her like she gave him acknowledgement of his words.

Then, she stopped on her feet, and the Master complied. By now, the sun was halfway down to setting.

"I told them," she whimpered.

"Told who what?" the Master asked.

"I told my parents about the bad man."

What dropped first was the Master's smile, then he knelt before her. "The bad man?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "We met him at the summer fair. At night. He sat at a table drinking ale and we passed by him. He asked about me, and my parents answered some questions like I went to school and I danced."

"Was that all?"

She shook her head. "I told them he was bad."

Eraqus cocked his head, more attentive than ever. "How did you know this?"

Her face contorted, her brows scrunching into wrinkles and her lips bending at the center. "I just knew he was bad. I pulled on mama and told daddy to stay away, but they said I was rude."

Then the first tears Terra saw on her face fell, and she struggled to breathe. "They didn't believe me," she said.

She wailed, the most horrid sound Terra had ever heard, and it was so loud that it filled his ears and invaded his chest, and he nearly cried from it, too. It hurt to hear it and it hurt to think about why.

Eraqus picked her up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, with words that said, There, there, you are safe and sound, safe, safe, safe, as they trudged down the road, leaving Terra to carry her bookbag.

She was limp, all her energy seeping into sobs on the Master's shoulder, and all the noise she made frightened the rabbits and the birds nearby.

******

Since they got back, Abigail fussed hard like the air was suffocating her.

"She's doing a little better," the Master observed when he found Terra alone in the barn, brushing the cow, which really helped her calm down.

But now it was Terra willed into silence, Abigail's chewing of hay filling the room.

"Are you alright?"

Terra nodded. "Is it true you found the preacher's daughter?"

Eraqus' nostrils flared and he inhaled. "Word surely spreads far in this world. Yes, Terra, I did."

The Master took his place on a short stool normally setup for milking, but instead of fetching a pail, he rubbed on the hairs of his mustache with his thumb and forefinger.

"This man, if he could still be called one, is very predatory… I saw him today."

Terra nearly dropped the brush. "What?"

"Ardyn, I came into contact with him at the horse farmer's home. It's become a dreary place. Even with the sunshine, the halls of that house stay dark." Eraqus cleared his throat and took the milking pail, though he did nothing with it. "A terrible thing, the darkness. Being near it for too long will compel anyone to commit atrocities they otherwise would not do with a sane mind." He raised a finger at Terra, ready to lecture. "This is why you must never tread on that path, lest you want regrets, Terra."

"Yes, sir."

"Ardyn had found refuge within the oil paintings across the farmer's house, and I've chased him. He would appear and disappear at a whim, taking occupancy in frames he didn't belong… until he stepped out of one."

"And then what happened?" Terra asked quietly. "Did you fight?"

Eraqus nodded, and Terra's stomach dropped. "Unfortunately, he melted into his own shadows, escaping." He took a side glance. "I do not believe this beast is blind like it describes in my records."

"Sir?"

"Terra, do you remember your lessons about the nature of light and darkness?"

Of course he did, he was a good student. He recited, "Light attracts darkness, and darkness will hunt down the light. They are designed to recognize each other."

"Yes. Yes, indeed." Eraqus stared at nothing, gathering thoughts before he put them to words. "Aqua's intuition in recognizing the darkness only asserts my suspicions - I believe he hunted her down for the immensely bright light within her."

"... Why did he go after her parents?"

"Hmmm… the more I ponder over it, the more I see why the records have him labeled as blind. As a hunter, he is barely decent. When I fought him, nothing about his movements and his aversions to my presence gave me the impression that he couldn't see. It was more of… he can sense light when it is near. It alarms him but it deceives him. What I have noticed is his breath, it is so deep when he fights it as though he is drowning."

"So he sniffs the light when it's around?"

"In a way. He approached Aqua's house in daylight, when she was in school, so it would be sensible that her presence would be smeared all over her home, where her parents resided unaware."

"Then why doesn't he find her now?"

Eraqus, pensive and tense this entire time, sighed, like he just remembered that he was talking about human beings. "She is grieving. We all have light and darkness within us, Terra. Grief and rage will cloak our very best selves, and while she is under that state, it hides her from him.

"This is why," Eraqus continued, needing Terra's attention, "it is important that she understands there are others who care about her. To give her inner light a chance to shine again, and remember what it feels like to be happy. A dark mind lends to a dark heart and too much of that will warp her. Do you understand what I am saying, Terra?"

"Yes, sir. I've been trying to make her smile."

"Good. I know I can count on you." Eraqus' smile was brief as if he didn't have the time for it. "As for the preacher's daughter, unfortunately I believe she was mere collateral. A source of light that he found confusing, and he attacked her as such. There is so much darkness to be found in many worlds, Terra, and they wear many faces but this is the most gruesome that I've seen in my lifetime."

So Ardyn could find anyone with enough light, and just… end it all.

"Why?" Terra choked. "Why would anyone do that?"

Eraqus rubbed his student's head. "The reason will differ for each, but it is all senseless and primitive."

The tears were hot and Terra wasn't strong enough to stop them.

Eraqus reached to hold him, alarmed at the sight. "What has gotten into you? Are you frightened?"

Terra sniffed quietly and nodded, using his forearm to wipe his face.

"What if you die?" he squeaked.

"Terra, look at me." He was gentle, but firm. "I will not die."

"Aqua's parents died. And the preacher's daughter."

His Master sighed, rubbing Terra's arms before brushing his hair out of his tear-stained face. "Terra… they had no means of defending themselves, but I am very different. You have no reason to fear. Dry those tears."

He swallowed. "Y-yes, sir."

"If this is too much for you, I can send you home where you'll feel safe."

"No, sir." He stared at his Master's shoes. Under no circumstances did Terra want to go home, abandoning the mission, wondering for days if everyone was okay. And Aqua was so sad, today. "If I leave, then Aqua will be all alone, and I want to be brave."

"You possess an extraordinary amount of courage, capable and necessary for any true Keyblade wielder." Eraqus leaned over to make sure that Terra understood correctly. "The amulet I gave you, Terra, do you still mind it?"

"Y-yes, sir." Terra hurried to pull the knotted, looped cross from under his shirt. "I don't even take it off for a bath."

"Very good. You remember what I told you?"

"If anything-" He swallowed. He didn't want anything to happen. Now he wanted to go home and have Eraqus all to himself. "If anything happened, I need to stay calm and find you."

"And it will protect you. Be mindful of the fickleness of protection spells, Terra. They are powerful but they expire."

"Yes, sir."

The Master wiped Terra's face with his robe, and brushed through his hair with his fingers. Then he took the pail near him, ready to take on Abigail. "You are dismissed, Terra. Take some fresh air outside." He gave a smirk. "Let us hope the next time we speak of such evils, you would be a stronger, braver Keybearer ready to take on the challenge."

"Yes, sir."

******

Dragging his feet on the ground as he welcomed the cool breeze that hit his face, the vastness of the stars above him made this world seem bigger than it truly was. The forests beyond faded into darkness, the shadows mean under the moonlight.

At least Aqua was there, settled in the grass where Tod curled on her lap, his bright red fur the only spec of color to be seen in a night like this one. She was watching the forest but she was not really on her guard, like she didn't consider that something dangerous could be hiding where she couldn't see.

She wasn't crying anymore but her face was still puffy, and Terra took a spot next to her. She nudged over to give him more space, lending him a half-smile as a greeting. The grass was soft but itchy, too tall and in need of grooming.

"Everyone at school now knows me as the girl with no parents," Aqua said, eyes downcast with her hand sunk in Tod's vibrant red fur, and a tone that said she'd rather be known as literally anything else. She sounded tired, too - sick of being sad.

"I don't have any parents either."

She gaped at him with a pity he didn't comprehend. "Mr. Eraqus…?"

For once, Terra shook his head. "He's my teacher."

"Oh…" And there she was again, sad, and he got the notion that it was for him even though he didn't need it. "What happened to them?"

"They gave me up when I was a baby," he said simply. He lived with this knowledge all his life; it wasn't a big deal. Well… it kind of was. All the children went through a phase at some point that maybe they didn't deserve to have a family. But it really wasn't that big of a deal. It wasn't. "I grew up in an orphanage… but I have Master Eraqus now. Everything's great."

"But you live with your teacher."

"The best teacher ever."

She quieted. "...Do you even go to school?"

Terra didn't know what to say. He was supposed to talk about Eraqus being his father this entire time that he didn't have backup answers. "Sorta. I'm his only apprentice. We live in a special academy up in the mountains."

"Really?" She eyed the West, toward the direction of what these townspeople called mountains in this world. "Where?"

"Uh, very far away."

"Hm. So is it a lie that you're from the city?"

"No!" He said too quickly. "I come from a city - a really big one. All the buildings there are taller than your mountains here."

She gave him a… snooty look. "There's no such thing as a city like that."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there isn't."

"It's true," he pleaded. She was such a hard nut to crack. "Okay fine, there's more to it but... can you keep a secret?"

She lit up. "Yeah."

"You have to promise not to tell anyone, or I'll get in trouble."

"Cross my heart."

If she put her heart on the line, then she was serious. "The Master and I aren't from around here."

"Well," she scoffed, "duh."

"No, I mean…" He waved to the sky above them, stars twinkling like they wanted to be noticed. "We're from very, very far away."

It took her a second to think about what he was saying, then she rolled her eyes. "Are you saying you're aliens? That's ridiculous."

He laughed – it wasn't the response he expected, but it wasn't exactly the wrong interpretation either. "Kind of? We are from a distant star, and we flew from there."

"Pfft."

"I'm not lying."

"Sure, you're an alien."

Why she had to be such a snob at all times, he didn't know. Still, Terra felt like a complete idiot – here was someone finally willing to listen to him, to share a secret with and be his friend, and he blew it. He hated the silence penetrating between them now.

Aqua suddenly threw her hands in the air, as if she had enough exasperation to last her the day. "Aliens are supposed to have green skin, okay? They look like bugs, with antennas, and they're bald-"

Like she was the expert.

She said it in a way as if asking him to prove her wrong, and he swayed right back into smiling. Maybe he didn't blow it after all.

"There's more to the stars than you think," he said smugly.

Aqua crossed her arms and studied him for a bit.

What she said next surprised him - not because she believed him, or because she had her own secret to tell, but because he never really experienced someone who missed him before.

"Does that mean you'll have to leave soon?"

Those brief moments where she was smiling were so short.

"Maybe…" And Terra found himself sad, too. "Yeah. When the Master catches Ardyn, we'll have to go back home."

He didn't know if she was going to cry, but she didn't. She turned her nose up at him.

"You can't leave."

"Why not?"

"Because you're my friend now, and I won't let you."

Terra laughed because he had no other reaction. He didn't want to leave either, but he didn't say that out loud. What he realized instead was why she was so attached to Tod and Copper staying together: friendship meant a lot to her, maybe even as much as him, even though he didn't have any.

"We should find Copper tomorrow," he said. "It's wrong that they're separated."

She lit up. "Tod is lonely without him."

And Terra didn't want Tod to be lonely. "We could think of ways to get him back so we aren't caught."

"Promise?" She leaned near him, scanning his eyes for his oath.

Terra traced over his heart with one finger, and swore his first promise to someone who wasn't Eraqus. "Cross my heart."

******

After school the next day, Aqua minded her chores with such focus and speed that she finished earlier than expected and sought out Master Eraqus in the barn.

When she asked, "Mr. Eraqus, can Terra come out to play?" it was proof that yes, Terra did have a new friend. She was ready for the woods, replacing her dress with overalls and an excitable Tod by her feet.

Eraqus of course was pleased to hear that and sent Terra a smug grin before agreeing, which was probably the first time that Terra could remember being let go from his chores early.

Finding Copper was easy, and getting him out wasn't as hard as anticipated. Amos Slade relied too much on his intimidations, apparently, because Copper was there just the same. It took stealing a dog muzzle to contain Chief's barking so no one would be alerted.

Terra felt bad. He promised Chief that they'd all come back, even though Aqua told him that Chief hated Tod and wasn't nice either to anyone either.

Little Copper though was delighted.

And it turned out, babysitting small animals was tiring, and the two of them still went at it with their games while Terra and Aqua took turns lazily guessing the shapes of clouds.

They even talked some more about what he did as Eraqus' apprentice: what kind of classes he took, how far into defense training he had progressed so far, and whether he ever had to tolerate something dumb like math.

His answers were pretty honest except he never once mentioned the word Keyblade. It was a Keybearer's most important clause to keep that secret.

Watching dog and fox toss and tumble, practicing their survival skills on each other, gave Aqua a peculiar idea.

"Can you teach me how to fight?"

"That'd be fun. You're gonna show Pap's who's boss?"

"It's something I've always wanted to do, but Mama said it wasn't ladylike. It's too ferocious."

Terra stood up, at the ready. "It's not hard."

She hopped to a stance, her hands already in lifted. "Then show me."

"Well first…" He grabbed her wrists and brought them closer to her face. "You need to always protect yourself, and this will make it easier."

Then he lifted one open palm. "Try hitting me."

She threw her fist, and it smacked enough to sting.

"Ow," he whined.

Aqua's knuckles were already red from one punch, and she winced.

Terra shook his hand to relieve the pressure. "You hit hard, which isn't bad, but you're also hurting yourself." He lifted his other palm to spare the first. He remembered the way Eraqus spoke to him when he taught, going back to his earliest lessons. "Try thinking about your strength coming from your back, and use that to direct the punch."

It took several times, and Terra often switched palms for her to strike (it helped ease his pain). But Aqua took his lessons much faster than he expected, honestly, finally getting the proper amount of force in her punches without expecting her fingers to break.

"We use the same advice in ballet," she said.

"Really?"

"It's to make sure you're in alignment and you're moving properly."

"Oh!" He dropped a hand after she finished another throw straight into the center of it, now leveled off so that it didn't sting him anymore. "The Master and I talk about that stuff all the time. I didn't think it'd be useful in dance."

"Pfft." Suddenly she leaned off her focus on slugging and stood as straight as a rod. "Observe."

With feet turned out and a curve at her elbows, Aqua started to… well, bend her knees repeatedly.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"It's called a plié," she said as though he should know better. "Try it with me."

Turning out his feet was more uncomfortable than it looked, and he copied her movements, even when she brought one arm out to her side and swept the other across and over her head.

It looked easy to copy and honestly he got bored, but she started laughing -

He realized he never really heard her laugh before. It sounded like small bells, with a sparkle to her eyes. She looked different, alive almost.

"What's so funny?"

She mimicked what he was doing: hunched over, with his arms so curved that it looked like he was about to scratch his side and his head. "You look like a monkey."

"I do not."

He gave up, stomped his foot on the ground and swore to himself that he'd never dance again.

"Aww," she breathed, swallowing the rest of her loose laughs to regain some composure. "I didn't mean it that way. We can try something different."

"How about this," he interrupted, with a finger to command her attention. "We do a little competition and whoever wins gets to decide what game we should play."

Terra already had an idea in mind where he was sure he'd win.

"That sounds fun! What should we do?"

"Whoever does a handstand the longest wins."

Initially, he expected her to be intimidated, but she replied with, "That sounds easy. Let's do it."

It sunk his stomach, but he knew that he was good with this, so he should still be fine.

They bent over, and on his count of three, they lifted their legs into the air and balanced on their hands.

The blood rushed to his head, but he'd done this so many times that he breathed through it.

"Should we count it out?" he heard her say, his gaze somewhere off to the forest where Tod and Copper took a break from their roughhousing.

"What?"

"Count it out, like how many seconds it takes to do this?"

What was harder than breathing was talking in this position. "Nah."

"Okay." She sounded like she had no struggle in the world. "I used to take lots of gymnastics. I really miss it."

He really wished she would stop talking so he could concentrate on staying still.

"Cool," he muttered.

"I had a teacher who thought I would do well in competing," she continued, "but Papa wanted me to stay in school."

"Okay," he huffed.

"I've always wondered-"

He groaned, falling over onto his stomach into the thick grass underneath him, his head light. She glanced behind her, and with a smirk, gracefully went back on her feet and looked over him.

"I win!"

"Obviously."

"And I choose the game of…" She took a finger to her chin, very proud and very dismissive of his utter disappointment. "Hide and seek."

"Seriously?" He was going to refuse because he had pride and hurting it made him fume.

"I won, so we have to play. But Tod and Copper stay with you."

"Why?"

She waved her arm at him, already on her way, like he asked her a silly question. "They'd give my location away, and I'm not gonna let you cheat."

"Fine." He buried his face in arms against a tree and started to count out loud, listening closely to the direction of her steps so he had as many clues as possible; he was going to find her so quickly, she'd know immediately that he was worthy of respect, and she shouldn't ever laugh at him again.

"... Eight, nine, ten. Ready or not, here I come!" he yelled, the branches and bushes that surround him lightly swaying to a song he couldn't hear. The wind was just as gentle, leaving him alone to hear his own breath.

Copper sniffed the air, and Terra had the sinister thought of asking him to track her down - but that would be cheating, and Terra was better than that.

When he started his trek, the animals took notice. Tod's ears perked a little too much, like trying to decipher a sound that was garbled.

Terra went down the trail he believed she took. "Aqua?" he called - this never worked in hide and seek, but maybe it would trick her into giggling.

Tod and Copper followed closely at his ankles, never running ahead, never falling behind - which was weird, wouldn't they immediately react if she was nearby?

"Aqua," he called again, listening in for any ruffling.

It was quiet, like the forest was dead despite its lush green vitality, despite that it was daylight.

At this point, Tod's fluffy tail curled underneath him, and Copper dagged himself too close to the ground, chasing a scent in the dirt that took him in circles.

At this point, Terra spotted an owl - an owl - up at this hour, watching him like he was prey.

Getting into a staring contest with an owl was useless, and the longer Terra looked at her, the more he realized that she was waiting for something to happen.

The owl hooted, and against such quiet, it was thundered in his ears. Tod and Copper perked up at the warning -

And split from him, sprinting so quickly it was like they had to win a race to be allowed to live.

"Wait a min-"

They were gone, the owl leaving with them.

Aqua probably would yell at him for losing them.

If he'd ever talk to her again, that is.

"Aqua?" he called again, desperate for an answer. Praying that he'd find her fast, tripping over loose tree branches, hearing nothing but the noise of his own footsteps.

"Looking for someone?"

The voice came from behind.

A tall, tall man watched him with a diabolic smile. Wavy hair to his shoulders the same color as wine like it begged to be touched, thickly dressed in messy layers like he was homeless, like he was cold (it was way too hot for that).

Terra's heart beat and it went cold the moment he noticed the large-brimmed fedora.

"I-" Terra swallowed. A Keybearer was supposed to be brave. "I'm not, mister."

"Hmm," the man named Ardyn rubbed his chin. "I was wondering if you could point me in the correct direction," he said, words clearly pronounced and laced with an amusement that'd never die even if threatened. "I seem to have lost my way."

Terra nearly asked to please not hurt him, he didn't do anything wrong. "Town's over that way, mister." He pointed north, away from the Widow Tweed's farm.

Another voice rushed to his side. "Terra, don't!"

It was Aqua, breathless when she grabbed his hand. Her pupils shrunk to the size of flies, and she whispered to his ear, "It's the bad man."

"Aha!" Ardyn exclaimed like greeting an old friend he forgot about. "How long it has been to see you, Aqua." Ardyn slipped off his hat and bowed his head to give her a more respectful greeting.

Aqua shuddered, her grip on Terra's hand cutting off circulation to his fingers.

Terra didn't know what to do. This man looked bigger than his Master, and Terra never defeated his teacher in hand-to-hand combat before.

So he froze.

Worse - the moment Ardyn straightened out, his face was different: glowing yellow eyes, black oil seeping from them and from his scalp and from his mouth. He was already a dead man who spoke.

"It's been a pleasure," he said as he wore his hat again. "Good night, sweet child. Sleep will certainly hurt less."

Terra gripped her hand back.

Aqua hid behind his shoulder.

Ardyn raised a palm, the glow of magenta and black puffs of smoke electrifying at his fingertips.

Terra looked away, shut his eyes, got closer to her.

It hurt. It was sore like a dull hit to his chest and it banged loudly -

But he flew, with Aqua grabbing him by the waist and flying with him, as the blast threw them background and they used the momentum to float away, past the trees, past Tod and Copper who were still running, until they were dropped to the ground, rolling in a mess of fallen leaves.

Terra was alive, and finally he breathed. They were near Mrs. Tweed's house, her chimney sticking up above the trees.

He scurried to his knees and fiddled with his necklace, pulling out the knotted symbol. It disintegrated into dust after carrying them here.

The plan! Stay calm. Find the Master. Immediately he stood on his feet, and slipped on leaves.

The mission! He still had to protect the mission. He turned heel and went back to Aqua.

"What was that?" he heard Aqua mumble. She was still picking herself up, removing leaves from her hair.

"Magic. C'mon." He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her, running as fast as he could.

"Master!" he cried when they got near the farmhouse, Tod and Copper yipping from their fright.

Abigail fussed and she was loud enough that they heard her from the barn. In the distance, Chief wouldn't stop barking. The wind howled, and the clouds darkened. A gunshot ruptured in the distance.

Eraqus stepped off the front porch, telling the widow to stay indoors. "Step inside," he instructed Terra and Aqua. "And stay inside."

"Master-"

"Now."

Another gunshot, closer this time.

Copper and Tod followed them inside the house, rushing under furniture. Mrs. Tweed locked the door behind them as Eraqus continued his way into the field. Terra climbed the kitchen counter to take a look.

"Stay away from the windows!" she commanded, and Terra jumped off to head upstairs.

"Wait for me," he heard Aqua squeak but he paid no attention to her.

He rushed through the upstairs hallway, into the master bedroom, right to the windows where he threw the curtains open.

Moments ago it was broad daylight but now it threatened to storm.

Eraqus summoned his Keyblade in a crackle of light, Ardyn now creeping close.

The demon hunched over, the oil dripping out of his coat-sleeve. Sparks of purple light surrounding him, and the ghosts of swords and axes and cleavers swirled in the air in a cycle, a record of ages that passed by for how long this thing had been living.

He used them to strike the Master, slicing and dicing and scratching metal with metal.

Deflected, far enough to strike a tree nearby the second-floor window and Terra and Aqua had to duck.

"Your Master is a sorcerer?" she asked.

It wasn't incorrect. "Eh?"

"I read about them in books," she said as they peeked over the windowsill.

"Shh."

Eraqus summoned chains, gold and blinding and huge, to whip Ardyn - it was the coolest thing Terra had ever seen him do.

Ardyn said something indecipherable, and with a yell, Eraqus summoned something larger: a giant warp that swallowed the demon away before reshaping into a giant keyhole in the sky.

One that the Master promptly locked, the sound of the turnkey snapping everything into silence.

The sun fought through the clouds, and the wind calmed slowly.

Eraqus trudged back to the house, holding his arm as he dismissed his Keyblade, and he limped enough for Terra to bolt back downstairs, leaving Aqua to follow him once again.

The house was messier, like it survived a small earthquake with books toppled over and desks in the wrong position.

He found the Master settled on a loveseat while Mrs. Tweed rushed to get him water.

"I was unable to vanquish him," Eraqus said through large breaths. "But he has been barred from ever coming back to this world."

"Miracles do exist!" Mrs. Tweed exclaimed as she handed him a mug. "Bless you, good sir. I never in my life expected such a spectacle when you showed up around here."

"Miracles," the Master repeated. That was going to be the story for the rest of time to these people, of a man who came from nowhere to perform miracles that saved the town, Mrs. Tweed being the only witness to a harsh storm that raged and died in a matter of minutes.

Terra sat closely to his Master, not to take his hand or to hug him, but to listen to him calm down.

In the chaos, Terra didn't realize that it made him scared to watch Eraqus march his way to battle. Knowing now that everything was alright, it took all his strength to look like he wasn't overwhelmed.

Now the people of this world were safe, and Eraqus was the hero. The thing about his Master was that he showed no fear in the heat of battle, when Terra nearly wet his pants earlier. If he was ever going to get better, he had a long way to go.

Mainly, Terra was just happy that he still had family at the end of it all.

"I want to do what you do," he heard a small voice pipe up.

Aqua stared hard at Eraqus, determination on fire in her eyes, awed and fierce and hopeful.

The Master wasn't surprised by her admission. "You want to save people?"

"Yes," she said simply.

Mrs. Tweed threw her hand to her chest. "In all my life-"

"I want to banish demons," Aqua continued.

"That sounds perfectly unsafe," Mrs. Tweed said.

Eraqus chuckled. Terra thought that he may have succeeded his first mission because it gave the Master what he wanted - a new, promising student. "It can be a dangerous life, but I assure you that she would be safe with me."

Mrs. Tweed eyed Terra, suspicions mounting in her mind. "The young boy, he is…?"

"Yes, ma'am," Terra said. "I'm his apprentice, and I'm training to do the very same thing."

"Aqua," Mrs. Tweed implored, "you are certain?"

A sad cloud hovered over Aqua's eyes before dissipating in an instant. "Thank you so much for taking care of me, Mrs. Tweed… but I've been called a hippie all my life for my name. I don't belong here. I never did."

Eraqus stood straighter, interlacing his fingers and addressing the widow. "I only take children who have no families nor a place to go, children who I am certain will perform spectacularly."

Aqua leaned forward with a hand to her heart. "Please take me. I'll be a good student. I can do ballet and gymnastics, I'll make perfect grades and-"

"You have a strong heart," Eraqus said to her with a warm smile.

She blinked, not understanding what he really meant but she nodded anyway.

And Terra saw it - or felt it, he wasn't sure. It was like a tug to his own heart, a flash and a tickle before it faded. This was what Eraqus was talking about.

He saw the light within Aqua, a warm, strong embrace, like he was meant to feel safe with her and meant to keep it protected.

It was pretty even though he couldn't really see it.

And Terra wondered if he emanated the same. He thought that one night when he tried to bring it out of himself and he couldn't, and how he went to sleep wondering if he had it at all.

He wondered if his was as strong as hers, and if he was doomed to fail because it wasn't.

******

Aqua said she cried more than she expected when she said goodbye to Mrs. Tweed, even though Terra never saw anything.

She was stronger when she said goodbye to Tod, rubbing the fur on his chest a little while longer because she never wanted to forget the way it felt.

"Do you think they'll stay friends forever?" she asked Terra.

If she was talking about Copper… "Of course they will." A fox and a hound were opposites by nature, in a violent cycle that would never end but friendship was supposed to be strong and indestructible, and Tod and Copper were the very best of friends. Nothing would tear them apart.

"Always stay together, okay Tod?" she whispered to the fox, before giving him a quiet farewell.

This was a few days after the battle with Ardyn. By this time, people started visiting the farmhouse to ask Eraqus all sorts of questions: if he was a magician, if he was sent from the heavens, if he was the devil, if all the demonic stuff was nonsense, if the murderer was killed…

Either way, Eraqus respected the laws of the world and they all had to wait until papers were written, agreed upon, and signed for his protection over Aqua as one of his own.

Today was the day to finally take her to the Land of Departure. She didn't have much: one pack of luggage, and one hard, gray folder.

When Terra asked what was inside, she said it was the only picture of her parents that survived the fire.

The three of them hiked into the woods. She started asking the basic need-to-know: what a Keyblade was, the eternal fight between light and darkness, where the Land of Departure was located -

"We're going to fly there, right?" Aqua asked.

Eraqus shot Terra a look, now that she admitted that she knew information she wasn't supposed to know.

"We are indeed." Eraqus stopped the hike, halting the other two behind him, and bent to his knees. "I have one question left for you, Aqua."

By the sound of his voice, Terra knew he was testing her.

"In the deepest part of your heart, why is it that you want to wield the Keyblade?" he asked.

She took a moment, the folder with her parent's photo wrapped in her arms. "I want to make my parents proud. I want to make sure nothing like this ever happens again to someone else."

By the way the Master nodded, she passed. "The Keyblade is a powerful weapon, Aqua. You are still young, and you won't be able to conjure your own for a few years, but you must always know that your strength is bright and strong. It is not to be used for purposes of vengeance."

Aqua nodded. "Revenge feels yucky to me."

With that, the Master was relieved. He patted her head. "Admirable. When we arrive at the castle, you will spend the rest of the day for leisure, but tomorrow we will start your first formal class."

She beamed, and Terra remembered similar excitement at the thought of starting classes with Eraqus, too. He used to be called a nerd for liking school.

"We're going to be students in the same class," she said to Terra, like she was looking forward to it.

Terra didn't know how to respond. Class was class, students were students. Friends were… they acted like they cared. "Uh, yeah."

"I can't wait, Mr. Eraqus," she said. "I'm going to make the best grades."

"W-wha?" Terra stuttered.

"First I must start your bequeathing, Aqua. Come." He gestured to her over by the nearby creek.

"This is going to be fun," she said to Terra before hopping over.

He watched the bequeathing, similar to how he went through it for the first time years ago, when the Master summoned a giant key and spoke a few fancy words. The energy from the magic passed from the weapon through his fingertips, up to his heart to ignite something that Terra later realized was probably always there.

The Keyblade was picky about who it chose and it chose Aqua today.

What it'd be like to wake up to a new person in his home, Terra had no idea what to expect. They would play and swap stories, he'd have a new fighting partner. Maybe he'd be allowed to go into the woods without supervision.

Something about it bugged him, though. Was it possible that he could be kicked out of the academy if he didn't measure up? What if Eraqus liked her better and liquified his adoption?

What would happen once Eraqus found out that her light was brighter than Terra's?

Suddenly, having a friend sounded like more trouble than it's worth.

To be continued...

This chapter makes references to the Fox and the Hound (1981).

#terraqua #terra #aqua #eraqus #ardyn izunia #the fox and the hound #kingdom hearts fanfic #kh fanfic #LOOK WHAT CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD #my fic

[castlebay-crossing]

The Villager in Tent Three: Chapter One

Summary: When Aisling leaves her hometown for the island of Castlebay, as part of Tom Nook’s Deserted Island getaway package, all she expects is sun, sand and plenty of solitude. But when she gets there, not everything is as the brochure said. Secretive villagers, judgemental neighbours, and an antagonistic photographer turn out to be the least of her worries, however, when the mysterious villager in tent three turns up dead one night after a vicious storm that left the only plane off the island grounded. Someone on the island is a murderer. And it’s up to Aisling to work out who it is. Before they come after her, too.

Warning: Major character death, some description of violence

Other Links: Readable on AO3 and FFN.

A/N: Here’s the first proper chapter! I had a lot of fun with this and I’m looking forward to deepening the plot and bringing lots of little details in! Thanks to everyone who read so far and liked/reblogged, it made me very happy! I hope this next chapter doesn’t disappoint! 

.-.-.

The plane had nine seats – eight for passengers and one right at the front that I assumed was reserved for an air steward. But as I quickly found out, an air steward was a luxury this old rust bucket would be lucky to have. It came as a mild surprise that they’d even bothered to fit seatbelts.

Ducking my head to avoid smacking into the low-hanging arch, I took a deep breath in for courage. The other passenger sat close to the front, fiddling with the settings on his camera. I squeezed my hips through the narrow aisle, offering him a smile he didn’t return.

The intercom crackled into life.

“Good morning, passengers, this is your pilot speaking.”

The pilot had an odd quality to his voice. It was guttural and slightly hoarse, like his vocal chords had been rubbed with sandpaper. I jumped into the closest seat available as the door sealed shut behind me.

“Welcome aboard Dodo Airlines towards our destination of Castlebay Island. Flying conditions today are good, with excellent visibility and a steady windspeed in a north, north-westerly direction. Our journey time today will be approximately one hour and twenty minutes, arriving into Castlebay Island at 11:50 AM. Please note that there will be no in-flight services or entertainment.”

Good thing I’d brought a book.  

“For now, sit back, relax and enjoy the flight.”

As the plane whirred into life, I hauled my bag onto the seat next to me. It was strange to think that my entire life was packed into this bag. A life condensed to its basics. Everything I had done – everything I was – came down to a dozen changes of clothes, some toiletries and a few books. No electronics. The brochure said they wouldn’t function properly on the island. Not that it mattered. It would be too risky to bring them.

The plane was moving now. I’d flown before, many times, but nothing compared to the noise this tiny plane made as it rattled down the runway. The words in my book bounced, making no sense, and wriggled around my head like earthworms squirming in the dirt. The engines turned, and with a noise that sounded like a rumble of thunder, the plane lifted into the air. We jerked, buffeted by a sudden wind, and I grabbed the armrests, my heart thudding against my ribcage.

The plane steadied. I relaxed, feeling the vibration cease. I rested my head against the window, the whir of the propellers almost soothing in its consistency. I could see patchwork fields and silvery rivers, dotted with the occasional settlement of houses. After a few minutes, it all melted into a deep blue slab of ocean, daubed with thin wisps of cloud.

I tried to go back to reading. It was easier to fill my head with someone else’s words than my own. I’d spent weeks trying not to think too much about where I was going, but now it was nearly impossible to stave off. Exactly how “deserted” was Castlebay? The brochure said accommodation was “available” and food was “plentiful” – I wouldn’t have agreed to it otherwise – but what that translated to, I had no idea. Accommodation could be anything from a tent to a five-star hotel, although the latter I doubted. And what about other island dwellers? The fact Tom Nook was running a service largely pitched at Animals had been ticking around my brain for days. Most of the time, Animals and humans didn’t cohabitate.

Something clicked. One, twice, three times. I lifted my head out of my book and found I was staring right down the barrel of a camera.

I covered my face. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The other passenger lowered his camera, grunted angrily at the resulting photograph and turned away again.

“Excuse me,” I tried again, trying to inject bravery into my voice. “What are you doing taking my picture?”

The photographer’s shoulders heaved. “There were no good shots from this window.”

“So what does that have to do with taking my photograph?”

“Needed to photograph something to make sure my settings were correct. It looked like a nice composition.”

I blinked. “May I see it?”

“I deleted it. You were pulling a face.”

“I see.” I said stiffly. “Well, listen, please do not photograph me again. I really don’t like it.”

He didn’t reply, already twisting his back and arms like a contortionist to point the camera at the window of the seat behind him. I looked down at my lap. The book had suddenly lost all its appeal.

“Why are you going to Castlebay?” I asked.

He took so long to answer I though he was either ignoring me or hadn’t heard me.

“Work,” he said eventually.

“Oh? Who do you work for?”

“Slice of Leaf Nature Magazine.”

I hadn’t heard of it, but I wasn’t about to admit it. “That’s cool,” I said, hoping it didn’t sound as limp to him as it did to me. “Are you well known?”

“In my field.”

“What’s your name? Maybe I’ve heard of you.”

Three more shutter clicks. “Morgan Stacey.”

“Nice to meet you, Morgan. I’m Aisling.” The name still didn’t sound right, like it was too big to fit in my mouth. “Will you be staying long?”

He pulled the camera back down and adjusted the lens. “Three months.”

“Long enough, isn’t it?” Now that I’d started talking, I found that I didn’t want to stop. “It’s scary though. But exciting. Like starting life all over again. But I suppose—”

Morgan sighed loudly, fixing me with a cool stare. “I’m sorry, but I’m actually very busy. I have a lot of work to get done. I can’t be spending all this time wittering on.”

I was surprised by the strength of my disappointment. I shrunk back into the chair and half-heartedly lifted my book again. Minutes unfurled, like molasses dripping from a spoon. I couldn’t concentrate. There was nothing much to see beyond the wing of the plane, cutting into the blue ocean like an iceberg. This was a small plane and the ocean went on for miles. Tendrils of nerves twisted in the pit of my stomach. What would happen if we went down? Would we ever be found?

I leant against the headrest and tried to regulate my breathing. What had they taught me? Breathe in four seconds, hold for seven, exhale for eight. It was hard to focus on worrying when I had to concentrate so hard on counting.  

Slowly, my body relaxed. Darkness clung to the edge of my vision, soft as velvet, and my surroundings blurred like the dipping of an artist’s brush. I must have dozed, because the next thing I knew, the intercom crackled back into life.

“Attention passengers, we will soon be making our descent to Castlebay Island. At this moment, we ask that you fasten seatbelts securely in preparation for landing. Passengers flying with Tom Nook’s Deserted Island Getaway Package should note that they will be met at the airport with further information. Thank you for choosing Dodo Airlines.”

The Fasten Seatbelt light above the steward’s seat dinged and I wriggled upwards, trying to work out the crick in my back. Morgan was busily packing away his camera and wouldn’t look at me.

The weather had turned. Everything was steely grey; clouds rose like mountainous peaks and raindrops simpered against the glass. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t pick out any landmass through the packed layers of cloud.

The descent started quickly. The plane roared, leaving my ears ringing, then tilted. The clouds rose up to meet us, and as we dipped further, I tried not to look. I didn’t mind flying, but the landing made me nervous, worry fizzing in my stomach like popping candy. I glanced across at Morgan, but he was staring out the window, enraptured.

We were approaching the ocean with frightening speed. I could see something in the distance – land, I hoped – but we didn’t seem to be flying directly towards it. We were still descending towards the ocean, getting closer with every hitching breath.

“We are now approaching Castlebay Island. Please prepare for landing.”

A squeal left my lips and I shoved my hands over my mouth, as if to try to cram it back in. With a sudden drop, my stomach felt like it been detached from the rest of me and had become fully buoyant. I was engulfed by a strange feeling, like gravity gave up on holding me down. It lasted only seconds. Outside the window, I saw the plane unfold two sets of floats. Then, we slowed, almost to a crawl and the ocean was at my eye level.

We hit the water with a judder, shuddered upwards, and then came down again. With another roar, the plane slowed and then smoothly surfed forward. Morgan turned around, a deep frown creasing his face.

“Have you never ridden in a seaplane before?”

My stomach lurched and heaved. The water, separated only by a thin frame of steel, looked tar-like so close. I gasped and gripped the armrest.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

.-.-.

“Try not to feel too bad.” Morgan said as we climbed from the plane and up onto the dock that stuck out into the water like a splinter in the finger. “You got most of it in the seat pocket, after all.”

“Shut up,” I said weakly. “I didn’t realise we were coming in on a seaplane.”

“Hmph.” Morgan folded his arms. “You won’t last five minutes on a deserted island with that weak a constitution.”

I wanted to snap back, but my churning stomach gurgled again, and I clamped my mouth shut. It was slightly better out in the open, but what I really wanted was a sit down and a glass of water. Weren’t we supposed to be met by someone at the airport?

I wandered partway down the dock, watching the water rush between the gaps in the wood. The dock opened out onto a stretch of beach, horseshoe shaped and framed by trees. Further beyond that, the island rolled away into hills and grassland. But not a single other person. Panic surged in me like a wave at high tide. Were we actually deserted? Left alone out here with nothing and no-one to help us?

Then, a voice.

“Greetings, greetings!”

I’d seen Tom Nook on his brochure, so I recognised him immediately as he hurried along the dock. “A warm welcome to Castlebay Island! So very glad to see you arrived in one piece, yes-yes!”

I forced a smile. “More or less. You must be Tom Nook?”

“That’s correct.” He extended a paw and I shook it. “Aisling, is that right?” He pronounced it wrong but I didn’t correct him. “You ordered the full Getaway Package?” When I nodded, he looked at Morgan. “So, this young chap must be our photographer, yes-yes?”

“That’s me. Morgan Stacey.” He briefly shook Tom’s paw. “Nice to meet you.”

“You booked on the three-month package, yes-yes?” He didn’t even wait for Morgan’s reply. “Excellent, excellent! I’ll have you both follow me up to Residential Services.”

He was off, waddling up the dock without a second’s hesitation. He was surprisingly fast. Morgan followed, making quick work of the distance, while by comparison, I had to force myself to catch up.

Rain spat from the leaden sky. I wanted to take in the island, be awe-struck by its beauty as the brochure promised, but as I slid across slippery sand, my stomach in knots, I was distinctly underwhelmed by the whole thing so far.

At least it was a short walk to Residential Services – I counted around six minutes. I expected a building, but it turned out to be a glorified green marquee pitched in a small clearing, surrounded by trees and loose boxes. Tom Nook joined up with two other animals in identical shirts, chatting freely in Animalese, while Morgan and I hung back awkwardly.

“We’ll keep this short as the weather doesn’t seem to be on our side today!” Tom Nook said cheerily. “On behalf of Nook Inc, we’d all like to thank you for choosing the Deserted Island Getaway Package. We hope you will be very happy here.”

A chilly wind picked up. I shivered, wishing I hadn’t worn shorts.

“As part of your orientation, we have prepared you some Welcome Packs that contain everything you need to know about the island.”

One of the smaller raccoons pushed a heavy bag towards me. “This includes a tent and some basic amenities,” he chittered. “There’s also an information pack detailing all the services we offer – including buying, selling and renovating!”

“And this…” Tom Nook handed me something, then plopped an identical one into Morgan’s hand. “…is our special Nookphone. You can use this for keeping in contact with residents and services, find guidance for island living and it’s even programmed with a map and a camera!”

“That’s… that’s very kind, thank you.” I said in a near-whisper. I couldn’t deny it felt good to have a phone in my hand again, feel connected to the world, even if, for now, the world only reached the corners of this little island.

“It is very kind.” Morgan agreed. “But I have no need for it. I have my own phone.”

Tom Nook’s nose twitched. “I’m sure you saw in the brochure, my dear Morgan, that regular phones don’t work on Castlebay Island. Signal doesn’t reach this far out, yes-yes!”

Morgan cursed under his breath, sharp words that didn’t seem right to be said in front of Tom Nook and the younger Nooklings. However, Nook carried on, seemingly unbothered.

“We will also offer workshops on crafting, fishing, bug-catching and all sorts of other fun island activities!”

It was so much to take in. A dull ache drummed at the back of my head. My legs still felt like jelly. Please let this finish soon so I can lie down somewhere.

Tom Nook looked at me sympathetically. “Although, perhaps it might be best to have you both set up your tents and get some rest before we get into the nitty-gritty, yes-yes?”

I managed a grateful smile.  

“The entire island is available for you to set up your tents – though we do ask that you be mindful of other villagers and not pitch too close to their space. You can check their locations on the map already programmed in your Nookphone.”

“Other villagers?” Morgan frowned. “I wasn’t aware there’d be other villagers here. It was billed to me as a “deserted island” getaway. Doesn’t “deserted” mean “no other people”?” He said the last part with a pointed glance in my direction.

“Yes-yes! We currently have three other villagers pitched up!” Nook trilled. “It’s a very popular excursion at the moment! I’m sure they’ll be very pleased to meet you.”

What was that old expression my mother always said? Kill them with kindness. It worked like a charm on Morgan, whose cheeks pinkened.

“Well I suppose it can’t be helped. As long as no-one interferes with my work.”

He turned and stomped away, without saying goodbye or thanking Tom Nook. That left me alone with him and the two younger Nooklings. My words died in my mouth.

“Better get going, Miss Aisling!” Tom Nook said. “We’ll get plenty of time to get to know each other later, yes-yes?”

I nodded wordlessly.

I walked for a few minutes, only as far as it took for me to be certain I was far enough away from Nook and the Nooklings. A tree had been uprooted here, branches and stones littered the ground, and against a backdrop of dark skies, this wasn’t the sort of paradise I had been expecting. Something trickled down my cheek and I wasn’t sure if it was rain or tears.

The Nookphone buzzed. A tiny red notification popped up over the map icon. I pressed it, bringing up a map of the island. It looked much bigger than I originally expected, at least a couple of miles long in either direction. Four symbols showed up on the left-hand side of the screen:

Bill (Tent One)

Muffy (Tent Two)

Withheld at Villager’s Request (Tent Three)

Morgan (Tent Four)

Long-pressing the icons showed the location of each house on the map. Bill’s house was close to a bridge by the eastern river. Muffy’s house sat in a patch of flowers near to Residential Services. Tent Three didn’t show up on the map, no matter how hard I pressed. And Morgan seemed to have set up at the very top of the island, close to a rocky outcrop and a few minutes away from a thick cluster of trees.  

My body ached. I needed to set up my own tent. Here was as good a place as any, I supposed, even though the area itself left a lot to be desired. The tent was simple enough to set up – Tom Nook’s capsule technology was pretty much legendary – and came with a small pink radio, a lantern and a camp bed. I tested it gingerly. It seemed to hold my weight alright, even if it wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world.

I set the radio to a random station, lay back in the camp bed and let sleep come for me.

#Animal Crossing #Animal Crossing fanfiction #Animal Crossing murder mystery #The Villager in Tent Three #Animal Crossing New Horizons #New Horizons fanfiction #Animal Crossing fanfic #I hope you enjoy!

[honeymoonjin]

Chapter One

Summary: When you hear that your recently deceased grandmother left you her property in her will, at first you think that a dinky old cottage in the middle of nowhere isn’t going to mean much for you. But after spending a night there, you discover something far more valuable than the house itself: a hidden door that leads to another time, the same place but over 200 years in the past. In the late 18th Century, there is a king who will die before his 21st birthday unless you can save him. Will you help him, even if it means leaving your own life behind?

A/N: It’s here! Please enjoy the first chapter of my new fantasy AU, Sovereign! It’s been a joy to write so far and I hope you love it as much as I do!

“Okay, what time was it again?” You adjust your cellphone, clamping it between your ear and your shoulder as you rohjdojwiggle a worn key into the front door.

“Come on, Y/n, we’ve been through this! It doesn’t matter what time you come over as long as it’s before 2, because that’s when I have to get ready for work. Maybe like ten? That should give us a decent block of time to hang out.”

You smile at your boyfriend’s lilting voice and finally get the door to unlock and swing open. “Okay, can do. I just got to my grandma’s old place, so I’ll be spending the night here, and then I’m all good to go this morning.” It’s musty inside, but not actually that messy or dirty. You tug your overnight bag in behind you and close the door, wandering around the cramped cottage aimlessly as you chat on the phone.

“Oh, yeah, what’s the big idea with that? I don’t get why I couldn’t come with and keep you company.”

“Something in the will,” you mumble half-heartedly, “it makes no sense, but she wanted me to come here when I received the rights and spend a night alone. I don’t know, she was a pretty superstitious and sentimental lady. I’m sure she had a reason.” You come to a stop in the poorly-lit hallway, staring at a strange sight on one of the walls. “Anyway, this house is so far away from uni and it’s not exactly prime living. I’ve already called mum to get her to give me the details for our real estate agent. Maybe whatever cash I make off this dump will help put me through my last year of med school.”

Jimin laughs on the other end. “From what I’ve heard, you’d be lucky to get a couple coffees in exam season for the price that place is worth. You’d be better off keeping it, maybe one day you and I can move in together.”

You squat down as he talks and run your hand along the wall. For some reason, embedded no more than two feet off the floor, is a crystal doorknob. You had assumed it was for a cupboard, but there weren’t even any seams in the wooden panels of the wall where the door could be. You try twisting it experimentally, but it doesn’t give.

“Y/n?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, Jiminie, that would be really nice.” You stand up again and continue down the hallway, dismissing the architectural oddity. “How about you come out here tomorrow night and see what you think of it? It would need some serious renovation, but we could make it work.”

You pause as you hear shuffling on the line. “Fuck. Sorry, baby, one of my classmates just text to say our grades for the midterm have been put up, I’m gonna go check.”

You smile softly. “No worries, I’ll see you when I come over tomorrow. Should be there around ten, like you said. I love you.”

“Love you more. Bye, baby.”

When the line goes dead, you put your phone away and decide to not bother with cleaning the place up at all before retiring. It’s nearly midnight, and you came straight here after a day of classes, so you’re ready to go set up the spare room.

You hadn’t really visited this place often in recent years; truthfully, you hadn’t seen your grandmother much since you grew up. You did have faint childhood memories of listening to her rambling for hours about what flowers fairies liked to grow in their gardens and how to listen to the trees whispering. Your parents quickly realized all her stories of magic and fantasy were making you a very dreamy young girl, and from the age of around eleven or twelve they stopped taking you out to the countryside to visit.

But now here you were, full circle. Lying in the narrow guest bed you had frequented as a child, one year away from graduating from medical school, something you had no doubt she would’ve found cold and absurd. She had liked to tell you you’d become a princess or a witch or something wonderful like that. Doctor didn’t sound nearly as exciting.

The exhaustion from the day as well as your reminiscing pulled you quickly into unconsciousness, and you slept well enough until a loud thud awoke you.

You shot up in bed, heart racing. There were no other houses for miles with the cottage being so far from the city, and it was untamed forest rather than farmland, so if the racket was an animal that had somehow gotten in the house, it was probably wild. After waiting a few moments, three similar thuds resonate through the small building. With one hand clutching your phone, torchlight on, and the other rubbing at your sternum in an effort to calm down, you sneak slowly out of your room and into the hallway. Blinking to adjust to the glare of your phone light, you barely pay attention to your surroundings, fully focused on the racket coming from the kitchen.

Upon arriving, you relax with a great sigh when you’re confronted not with a fox or a rat or a burglar, but an overly fluffy black cat sitting delicately on the kitchen bench, licking a paw. Below him is a misshapen pile of candles, another one of your grandmother’s obsessions, that the cat has apparently pushed off the counter.

You click your tongue and hold out your free hand gently. “Here, kitty kitty. Here, kitty kitty. Oh, you’re so cute! Where did you come from, kitty?”

You recoil when what can only be described as a scoff comes out of the creature’s mouth. But, like it could understand you perfectly, it leaps gracefully onto the floor and leads you back the way you came, tail swishing impatiently. You follow dumbly, until the cat comes to a stop in the hallway, in front of an open door.

You frown and stare at the black shadowy square in shock. The doorknob, which before seemed so absurdly placed, was now attached to a door of the same wood paneling as the wall, swung open to reveal an open space behind it. You swear just earlier today, or perhaps at this point it was yesterday, that doorknob wouldn’t move at all, and now a cat was sitting in front of it moodily, licking a paw and whipping its tail against the carpet.

What was odder still was the height. It wasn’t a full doorway like the rest of the house; really, were it not for the apparent depth of the hole, you would’ve called it a cupboard. Nevertheless, the cat blinks up at you with baleful silver eyes and slips into the blackness, completely disappearing from your view.

You patiently wait for a few moments for it to have a look around and come back out, but there’s no sign of it. “Kitty,” you call out awkwardly, “come out of there. Where did you go?”

But silence is your only response, so you just sigh and hunker down on your hands and knees, gingerly sticking your hand into the cupboard, which, judging by the way your arm disappears down to the shoulder with no back end in sight, is perhaps a room more so than a cupboard. You wave your outstretched hand back and forth, but the only thing you come in contact with is roughhewn brick, scratching your knuckles as you pull your hand back.

Whatever it is, it isn’t a room or a cupboard. It’s a hallway of sorts. Your grandma has a secret hallway in her house. “Okay, you got me, I’m coming in now, kitty.”

After no response, you prop your phone up so that the light splays as far into the darkness as possible and begin the crawl. Your shoulders scrape against the sides and your hair keeps catching on the rough edges on the ceiling, but you crawl on.

It must be no more than five or so meters that you travel before your hand knocks against a solid wall instead of more open air. Fuck. You’re at a dead end, with no space to turn around. But just before you can start to panic at your situation, you remember the cat. It must’ve gone somewhere, so you tentatively push against the solid wall, only to feel it give way beneath your fingertips. It’s another door.

A warm light greets you, but it’s such a change from the pitch black of the tiny crawlspace that you squint, pulling yourself free finally. When you do open your eyes again, you look around in confusion. The walls are lined with bookshelves, some filled with incredibly ancient-looking leatherbound books, and others with glass jars containing unidentifiable powders and herbs. Some of them even have objects floating in some strange clear liquid. In the middle of the room is a table covered in papers and rudimentary laboratory equipment, like thick glass beakers and iron crucibles.

You don’t recognize this part of the house, but even if you did, something’s clearly not right. Because to the far right of you, in the corner of this rather large room, is a hearth with a roaring fire blazing inside it. And directly in front of that is a tall man. Your instinct is to scream, but the stranger seems awfully calm for having broken in and started a fire, so you just clear your throat awkwardly.

He turns around, and you’re taken aback by how young he is. You never expected good-looking young people to stoop to thieving, but there’s a first for everything. “May I help you?” he questions pleasantly.

You frown at his patronizing tone. “Uh, yeah. Maybe start with why the fuck you’re in my house.”

He brushes down his hair, a startling silver that glints in the firelight. “This isn’t your house yet, actually.”

You tilt your head in disbelief, finally standing up off the ground to be a little more on level with him. “Are you serious? Yes, it is. The will was signed two days ago. Who are you?”

His eyes soften as he stares off into the middle distance. “The will? So, she’s passed away then.” His gaze flickers back up to you. “I hate to break it to you, Y/n, but you don’t own this house yet. In fact, you won’t own it for another two hundred and seventy years, give or take.”

You feel your blood run cold. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Welcome to seventeen-forty-three, Y/n.”

TAGLIST Message me or send an ask to be added to the taglist for Sovereign, and never miss a new chapter!

#bts x reader #bts fic #bts au #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #jin #yoongi #namjoon #hoseok #taehyung

[ma-lemons]

carved

a request! by @olyollyoxenfree

Okay, cool! Maybe rosegarden centered around a rainy day (sitting indoors, splashing in puddles, or whatever runs through your mind)?

thank you for sending this in!! (see you said whatever runs through my mind... and now you will see the result of me using the wildness that runs rampant in my brain)

*****

“Rainy days are the worst,” Ruby sighed. She sat on a stool, staring outside the window, the rain pouring hard outside. You could hear it as started from soft pitter patter to the loud rush, somewhat like a waterfall.

“Something’s telling me it’s going to flood soon,” María sighed, resting on the sofa. The old woman was letting Weiss braid her hair, as she had grown quite fond of her.

“No doubt,” Yang agreed. No one seemed worried about a possible flood? Ruby was. Yang and Blake were curled up by the fireplace, deeply immersed into some book which Ruby would swipe from them later tonight. Jaune and Ren were sparring in a room somewhere, and Nora was napping. Qrow was writing letters to Taiyang. Everyone seemed to be occupied. Everyone except for Ruby and Oscar.

Oscar had walked into the room, boredom clearly written on his face. He pulled up another stool and sat next to Ruby, sighing.

“Bored?” Ruby asked.

“Oh, most definitely.” He turned to Ruby, a smile on his face. “I’m kidding.”

“So you’re not bored?”

Oscar shook his head. “Are you crazy? There so many things you can do in the rain! Once, my aunt and some of the people in my town chased down the milkman’s cow and it took us hours—and then we got caught in the rain!! We all started to like dance around and splash in puddles, it was totally cool,” Oscar beamed.

“Wow. Is that what farmers do? Jump in puddles? Did you ever find the cow?” Ruby asked, teasingly.

“Nope. But the rain was fun. The milkman got over it.”

“Weird. Well, on Patch, it’s sunny. So I’m used to the sun. I hated how cloudy Beacon was when I got there and now it’s raining here, it’s so ugh. I miss the sun.”

“The rain is fun too,” Oscar argued back.

Ruby shook her head. “The sun is where it’s at. No sun, no fun.”

“You’re so childish!” Oscar exclaimed.

“That’s coming from the actual child!” Ruby yelled back. Their voices were rising in volume.

“Both of you, quiet down! You’re both children and no one cares about the weather!” Yang yelled from her spot near the source of heat.

Oscar put his head down, clearly finished with the conversation.

“I’m almost 17 years old, why don’t you leave me alone,” Ruby was muttering to herself.

“I’m going to go outside!” Oscar announced, standing up. Maria and Weiss looked up simultaneously. “Be careful,” Weiss warned. Oscar nodded.

“Don’t get hurt out there or the sparky one will have you head,” Maria chuckled, referring to Nora as the “sparky one”.

“You’re going outside? In the pouring rain?” Ruby asked.

“Yeah. I’m a farmer, remember? We splash in muddy puddles and chase after lost cows?” Oscar huffed, and marched upstairs. Ruby didn’t understand why he was getting upset. All she said was that she liked the sun better than the rain. Was that offensive? Did farmhands hate the sun? She thought they would like the sun because they needed it for their plants! Right?

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice when Oscar came back downstairs, wearing a plastic raincoat over his clothes. He changed his other boots into black galoshes which Ruby didn’t recall him purchasing.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” And with that, he headed outside. Ruby faces back towards her window, and gazed outside it. She decided she hated the rain. It was so boring! She had finished all her comics and there was no comic book store near the cabin! She didn’t feel like sparring, surprisingly, and she wasn’t in the mood for a silver-eye power lesson with Maria. There was much more to do outside. She was happier when it was sunny.

She focused her attention to the farm boy, who had made his way into her view. She watched as he ran back and launched himself into a large, muddy puddle. Water flew everywhere, and he seemed to be enjoying himself. She watched as a wide smile grew on his face and he began to splash into different puddles. He looked childish. But... he also looked... at ease. Did doing this remind him of home?

It suddenly dawned on Ruby that Oscar wasn’t upset because she called him a child, but because... he missed home. He had told her something so personal, and she brushed it off. She may have not understood the significance, but it was one of the memories he treasured with the people he knew back home.

She wished she could have even a minute to spend with her mother. But she didn’t get that time. Oscar was ripped forcibly away from home. He was just doing his best to cope, not because he was afraid of losing his aunt. He was afraid of losing himself. That he would eventually become a lost soul, and never be the same again. He would go home and no would recognize him anymore.

She pushed herself back in her stool and headed outside, her hood pulled over her head. She never bought anything for the rain, but didn’t care too much. She was covered enough. Hopefully.

Shutting the door behind her, she watched Oscar spin around in the rain, his eyes looking at the sky. The woods were usually quiet, but today, you could hear the rush of water and the scuttling and chirping of animals. Carefully, she stepped into the grass, and she could feel the cold mud even in her thick boots. She stepped towards Oscar, sidestepping the puddles. The rain was cold on her skin, but it strangely, wasn’t uncomfortable. It was like a kiss from an ice queen. Nature was in a way wonderful, and Ruby never truly appreciated it.

“Hey, Oscar?” she piped up, when she reached the boy. He turned around, his face twisted in confusion and hurt. His clothes were spattered in mud, and she could see tiny flecks of dirt around his cheeks. Kinda looked like extra freckles.

“Hey.”

“I—I’m sorry about what I said earlier, making fun of you. I didn’t understand how important that was for you.”

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t. No one would. It’s... It’s stupid anyway. It was a dumb story.”

Ruby shook her head and inched closed to him. “No. It wasn’t stupid. You were trying to tell me you miss home. Right?”

Oscar shrugged. “Yeah.”

Ruby didn’t know what to say, and she felt quite useless. She let her arms hang to her side and stood there, as the rain assaulted her and made her clothes stick to her body.

Oscar turned away from her and she figured he was still mad. He jumped in a puddle, and another, and another.

Here goes nothing.

Ruby took a little leap and sprung herself into a giant puddle. It was exhilarating, actually! She was getting a bit sticky, but it was fun nonetheless. She stomped and laughed, spraying water around her. This wasn’t that bad. It never rained this much in Patch. Even when it did, she didn’t like it.

“ Oscar, look!” The farmhand turned to look at her. He couldn’t resist as a laugh bubbled from his lips. He broke into a smile, a wide grin, his eyes lighting up. That’s what Ruby liked to see.

“I don’t need this stupid coat!” And with that, Oscar peeled his raincoat off and let it fly into the wind. Ruby... thought he was taking it a bit too far. But she was glad he was happy nonetheless. He started to spin in circles, his mouth open, catching raindroplets in his mouth. Ruby did the same, spinning in wild circles until her head spun.

She let her hood down and shook her hair in the rain. It felt cool, like she was taking a cold shower. Even the smell of the woods appealed to her. Did Oscar posess some kind of nature magic?

“Oscar, is there something you’re not telling me? Are you some kind of wizard?”

The farmhand cracked a grin. “Nope. I’m just a 15 year-old farmer’s kid who likes to dance in the rain. Hey! Come here, there’s something I want to show you!” He grabbed Ruby’s arm and lead her into the direction of the woods.

“Uh, don’t you think we should tell someone where we’re going?” Ruby asked.

“Didn’t you leave into the woods, only giving your dad a note?” Oscar inquired.

“Right. Um.”

“I’m joking too, Ruby. Now we’re even. I know you miss your dad as much as I miss my aunt.” Oscar turned down another path until they came to a large tree, quite gnarled and hideous. Its roots curled up and snaked every which way and in the trunk was a large hole, where someone could easily sit in.

“Welcome to my haven! Come on!” He dragged her into the large hole and he plopped her down. Then he sat next to her. Ruby was starting to feel sticky and warm. They were seated on moist leaves and the smell of the earth consumed the air around them. Ruby, being taller than Oscar felt a little bit cramped, but she managed to stick her legs out, into the rain.

“I found this place when we started staying here a month ago.” Oscar stroked the inside of the bark. Ruby could faintly see markings etched out in the wood. Oscar allowed her to scoot closer. She could make out letters. She read them, stringing them together. “Dreams... to win the fight against... Salem, to see my aunt again... to be good enough... and to get to know Ruby Rose better.” She stayed silent for a minute as she took it in. Clearly Oscar had returned to this place many times. These... these were his desires. Things he wanted to accomplish.

“Oscar...” she didn’t know what to say.

He shrugged. “Don’t say anything. Writing in the tree kinda lifted this hero burden off my shoulders for a bit. I don’t want you to feel the need to apologize, I just wanted you to see the place I go to find a peace of mind.”

And that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He simply wanted to show Ruby something special to him.

Ruby nodded in realization. “So that’s where you’ve been going all these times.”

“Yeah. It’s a secret, so don’t tell anyone. But it gets better.” He quickly got on all fours and crawled out of the hole. Ruby followed him, eager to see what it was. She didn’t know what to expect when Oscar started to climb the tree. He was lighting quick, and she didn’t even know what he was grabbing onto, he just did it! The tree was about 50 feet high, and Ruby wasn’t sure if Oscar would be able to come back down.

As soon as he reached the top, he called to Ruby. “Get up here!”

“Uh, yeah... I don’t think so! I’m getting kind of cold!” Ruby yelled back, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“Ruby Rose, Huntress, is afraid of heights,” Oscar teased. Even though she couldn’t clearly see his face, she knew he had that cocky look on his face. Fine then. She’d climb.

She figured it would be harder with her chunky boots so she chucked them off and stood in her stockings. Great. Now they would be soaked. She grabbed onto a low branch and hefted herself up. She had to admit, this was a bit difficult. She climbed trees back home all the time. Maybe she was a bit worn out.

“Aha! You’ve been getting lazy!” Oscar sang from where he was perched in his tree. Ruby growled, droplets of water hitting her cheeks.

“You say that from up there, but let’s see who’ll be on top when I get up there!”

Long story short, Ruby made it up there after 30 minutes, because at one point she fell, laid in the leaves and refused to get up. Oscar kept taunting her so she had no choice but to keep trying. When she got up there, she impulsively took Oscar’s galoshes off and chucked them to the ground below.

“What the heck, Ruby?” The farmhand cried.

She stuck ot her tongue and swung her legs over the thick branch, nestling herself on the tree. “So this is what you wanted to show me?”

“Look beyond the trees. Look at everything,” Oscar said, his voice in awe. He had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he wasn’t truly here. Ruby was beginning to think he was possessed by some tree spirit. The boy was indeed possessed, but not by something of nature.

Ruby followed his line of sight and gazed at the land below them. Even in the rain and the thick grey clouds above, she could see the land sprawled out in front of them. The town was so far, so many miles away. In the distance, mountains stretched far ahead. Everything seemed so small from where they were. It was as if they were kings of the world, conquering all the land in the world.

Ruby loved it. She loved sitting here, engaging in a fantasy. Like she was a queen who had no responsibility but to be free. And swing deadly weapons time to time. But she was a queen who didn’t have to save the world.

“Oscar,” Ruby muttered quietly.

“Hm?” The boy turned to her, the faraway look gone from his eyes. He was attentive.

“Do...do you think it’s wrong of me to—to sometimes... back out of this war?” She hesitated, afraid of what he’d say.

Oscar didn’t seem shocked at all. He nodded. “I expected you to ask this once. Everyone else but you has questioned the possibility of this mission, the outcome of this war. When you think about it, we’re just kids. There are thousands of Huntsmen out there who we could recruit, but we’re putting ourselves against an immortal being. The only chance we got is Ozpin and the Maidens, and your silver eyes. So when I think about the unlikliness of everything, no, I’m not surprised you have doubts.” Oscar paused for a moment, his head somwhere else. “Shut up,” he muttered. Ah. He must be talking to Ozpin.

“Anyway. Like I said. It’s okay to doubt this mission. I know how much you want to save the world, so I know you will. But... I don’t expect you to always be the mediator in our group. Basically,” Oscar said, resting his eyes on hers. “What I mean is, I’ve got your back. And so does everyone else.”

Ruby took in the words he said and nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He looked back at the land. “This is so beautiful,” he grinned, craning his neck out.

“Be careful, Oscar,” Ruby warned. The farmhand nodded. “It’s so–“

Oscar had somehow slipped and was heading towards the earth. Rapidly. Ruby had no time to think as she shifted herself into petals, into wind, into speed. She didn’t think as she cocooned herself in red and shot herself towards Oscar. She barely saw him, but could feel his aura.

It was a large crash landing into a pile of leaves. The two started to roll, mud and leaves coating their clothes. When they finally stopped moving, Ruby found herself squashing poor Oscar.

She lifted herself off his body. Gasping, she managed to speak. “A—are you okay?”

Even in the rain, Ruby could see Oscar’s cheeks were stained pink. I mean, she wasn’t surprised. He had fallen 50 feet and was caught in midair.

The boy only managed to nod and Ruby realized that he probably needed space to breathe. She loosened her grip on him and scooted back. Oscar shuffled back, his hair falling over his eyes.

Ruby stood up, her hands stained with thick mud. They needed baths. They both looked like they had been living in the woods for weeks.

She walked over to Oscar and stuck out her hand to him. “Come on. We’re both dirty.”

Oscar looked up and gripped her hand. She pulled him up, and they began to walk back towards their safe house.

After a while, they reached the house. They were both exhausted and knew everyone would question where they had gone.

They walked in, their limbs sore.

Weiss shot up and ran to them. “I was about to look for you guys! You were gone for two hours!”

“No, you weren’t, Weiss,” Yang called from the kitchen. “You said they’d be fine.”

Weiss reddened and looked them over. “You smell. I’ll go get water for you guys. You need a bath.”

Ruby chuckled at the encounter.

“What did you do! What were you doing out there?” María asked, hands planted on her hips. She hobbled over to the children. “Why are you messy?”

A hot bath, two cups of cocoa and three cookies later (Ruby stole an extra one), Ruby and Oscar were seated at the window again, watching the pour that had slowed to just a drizzle.

“Thanks for showing me that tree today,” Ruby murmured to the farmhand. Oscar nodded.

“Thank you too. For everything.”

It was an unexpected adventure for sure, but one that reminded them of things they held dear to their hearts.

#i cant believe ppl kinda like my writing #i do need to improve a lot #but im really grateful for those who like and reblog #rosegarden #ruby rose #oscar pine #roscar #rosepine #olyollyoxenfree #i need to make a masterlist one of these days #lord almighty i ran out of space AGAIN #tumblr mobile stop #like you cant even do the BASIC of tasks #anyway whatever this is enjoy it

[jonsa-creatives]

Prompt: An arranged marriage between Sansa and Magnar Jon.

Hi Anon!

Pardon for the very late reply because this prompt… was challenging. But in a good way. Made me reread the books a bit hence the delay in answering. It’s a little long but then again when have I ever written anything less than 1k words… sigh.

Anyways, poor abilities aside - Now that I have, I hope you like it!

This is also a submission for the awesome Jonsa event by @fyeahjonandsansa - 31 Days of Jonsa: March 14 - Bandaging wounds

Summary: Sansa finds herself lost in the woods beyond the Wall while out riding one day with her siblings. Help comes from an unlikely source but with it comes a condition she isn’t quite prepared for. Or, is she? (Magnar Jon is raised by the freefolk, but he has a secret…)

Mood music: Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

Enjoy! 

~ Mod Elle xx

A Promise

“Move.”

A raspy voice shook her to her core.

It was all her fault. She wanted to prove that she too could be as good as a rider like Arya. But she had always kept companywith the septas and the other ladies indoors within the castle grounds. She knewnext to nothing about riding except to sit on a horse. It wasn’t very lady-likeventuring out in the wintery woods like the Stark boys and Arya often did. But she didn’twant to be the odd one out. She was always the one left out of fun and games.But this wasn’t fun and it wasn’t a game any longer. Sansa knew the minute sheheard only the thumping of her mare’s hooves that she was certainly lost and onher own. In the thick of the woods. Clothed only in her woollen dress and a furcloak, Sansa had nothing else.

“Can you talk?” another voice chimed in.Sansa wasn’t sure if she should. The Freefolk were an uncivilised lot, andSansa had rode far enough to be caught in their midst. All she wanted was to askfor help and perhaps for some food and water. It was a great risk butdesperation drove her to that end. It had been two days of riding and Sansacould barely sit on her horse.

“Leave us. Leave!” The raspy voice waslouder this time and commanded the rest to leave the tent. Sansa watched astheir feet shuffled towards the exit, keeping her eyes down. Please don’t killme, please.

“Here, have some food. You look like youcould use some.”

Sansa’s stomach growled as the scent ofroasted meat hit her nostrils. Looking up, she was met with dark grey eyesstaring back. A head of messy black curls framed a solemn and gruffface. He wasn’t quite what she expected. Not at all hideous, like the storiesabout the free folk told when she was little. In fact, he looked like any othernortherner. He raised his eyebrows and nudged the tray at her.

Sansa nodded meekly and took a smallportion of charred meat. He smiled as she ate. Sansa was ravenous. She couldeat three more plates of whatever they made, it was delicious.

“Where are you from? The North? Were youlost?” he asked, sipping from his cup as he curiously watched her every move.

Sansa nodded again. There was no point inhiding anything, perhaps even better if she told the truth. The truth of whoshe was, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North. Whether ornot the Freefolk knew what that meant, it was all she had. And maybe the onlyhope to return home.

“Y-yes, my Lord. I was out riding with mybrothers and sister and I lost them. I have been trying to find my way backever since. That’s when I came upon your camp, I needed help.”

He listened intently and remained quiet asshe spoke. It was unnerving to Sansa seeing how his eyes roamed all over her, asearing gaze that could burn a hole right through.

“Aye, I heard from the women folk, how ayoung lady, barely hanging onto a tired horse walking right up to our tents.They took good care of you?”

“Yes my Lord. They did. Your people- thewomenfolk, they were very kind to me. Thank you.”

“Aye, they told me you were a lady andindeed you are. Do you have a name?”

Sansa hesitated. Father would be lookingfor me already by now.

“Sansa. Sansa Stark, daughter of LordEddard Stark, Warden of the North-”

“Warden of the North? I know of  a House Stark. So you’re his daughter?”Sansa nodded.

“Yes-yes my Lord. You have all been verykind to me but I wish to return home. Could you please show me my horse so Ican be on my way? I will never forget your kindness and neither will myfather.”

The young man paused as he brought the cupto his lips once more and only looked down without a word.

“Lady Sansa, it is too cold to leavetonight. Perhaps in the morning. I will take you to him myself, it’s not soeasy the roads beyond the Wall,” he said. There was something in his tone thatmade her nervous.

Sansa was too fatigued to move and sleephad overpowered all of her senses. But still she could not shake off themovement of furs and clothes around her. A hand had firmly grasped the inner ofher thighs and a strong pinch woke her up with a start. Large brown eyes and asnarl greeted hers. A towering build that reeked of dried blood and pisshovered above her.

Sansa screamed.

“Shut up! Shut up! You’re my little wenchnow!” he hissed at her and Sansa desperately tried to crawl away but he was fartoo strong. Sansa managed one more shriek, with all her might, before a handsmothered her mouth and pinned her down. No, no, oh gods, please no..

“Are you a virgin, sweet one? Your tightcunt is mine-”

“Let her go! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Sansa drew in a sharp breath of air as allof the weight was removed from her,  in asecond. Sansa turned and saw the beastly man fly out of her tent.

“Are you all right, Sansa? I heard youscream,” he knelt beside her and helped her sit up. Sansa nodded as tearsstreaked her cheeks and pulled together her torn dress in an attempt to regainher modesty. The stories were all true…

“It will never happen again. I’ll stayright here. No one will touch you, Sansa.”

“Your name… I don’t know your name,”Sansa whispered in between sobs as she leaned into him. He was warm and smelledof leather and ale. It was strangely comforting.

“Jon. Call me Jon.”

Sansa woke up covered in a heap of furs,undoubtedly Jon’s as they had his scent but a ruckus heard just outside hertent prompted her to investigate.

“And you believe her? She could be arunaway from a whorehouse you fool! What highborn young lady wanders beyond theforests on her own beyond the wall? She’s fair game.”

“I would behead you if I hear you talkabout her like an animal one more time. She is not ours to keep! We cannot riskangering the Northern Lords. Not the Starks,” Jon argued, obviously in a heatedexchange between the tribe leaders over the incident the night before.

“I know of the Starks. How do you know sheis one?” a deep sombre voice responded. Sansa couldn’t quite see whose it wasas the men were all dressed in nearly identical furs.

“Her cloak. Had direwolves on them. Sigilof House Stark,” Jon said. Sansa wondered who this Jon was, seeing how much heknew about her family.

“You seem to know a lot about theseNorthern Lords. You wish to kneel to them?”

“Mance, you forget I was ten before youtook me in. I knew plenty by then. Let her go, Mance. It’s not worth riskinglives for the sake of one girl. They are searching for her now as we speak.”

Silence ensued. Sansa quickly dressedherself as much as she could with the furs she was given. She searched high andlow in the small tent for a knife or a dagger, perhaps one that Jon took off ofhim during the night but there was none. I want to go home.

“She’s not one of us!” shouted anothervoice, followed by a cacophony of objections rising loud enough to rattleSansa’s nerves.

“Well then, make her.”

“You are out of your mind, Mance! And howdo you do that? She’s of House Stark! A lady! You want her turned as one ofus?” Jon scoffed.

“She has to be spoken for. You can’t standas her guard all the time. If you want to keep her safe, then you have to takeher. No man here will touch her again, you’ll have their word.”

“Take her? What do you mean? … As mywife?”

“Well, how else then? If she’s a cleverone, she will know it’s good for her,” Mance continued and all Sansa wanted todo was run.

“Aye, she will be safe here as your woman.No man would be foolish enough to touch another man’s woman. As long as she’snot, not I nor you can keep her modesty intact for long.”

Sansa paced the tent. She needed to escape,to get away from the whole arrangement set up before her. I was meant to be queen!Not a whore to a man of the Freefolk!

“I…. I have to speak with her.”

Sansa heard footsteps approaching, certainthat it was Jon. She had heard it all. And she was not willing. They can’t makeher.

“San…. Oh, you’re up,” Jon greeted her,seeing Sansa standing wide eyed before him. “I need to speak with y-”

“No! I cannot! I heard everything! Ican’t marry you!”

Jon sighed and sat down on a stump of wood.“I want to kill the man who hurt you last night. Behead him and put his head ona platter.”

“But I can’t do that to every man here.They don’t care if you’re a highborn princess. You understand don’t you?”

“Why won’t you let me go home? Please, myLord, I swear to the old gods, my father will reward you greatly for returningme to him! Please, my Lord, let me gohome,” Sansa pleaded tearfully, rushing to his side almost kneeling and beggingfor mercy. Jon couldn’t look her in the eye no matter how hard he tried.

“Lady Sansa, listen to me. It’s not safefor you here and you cannot be out there alone. I tried to explain… But it’sbetween me and another wildling man Sansa. I’ll… I’ll take care of you. Ipromise I will take you home. And once you’re home, I’ll release you and youcan go back to being Lady Stark again. But for now,” Jon paused, knowingperhaps he had said enough in one breath. Sansa stared at Jon in disbelief.This could not be. Her future, her dreams, her life now utterly ruined. Inresignation, Sansa clutched her knees close to her chest and cried.

It was a riotous affair with the wildlingswhen it came to weddings - perhaps it was their only one since it was a firstfor Magnar to be wed to a lady. A Northern lady no less. Sansa could not findit in her to smile, much less eat or drink, in partaking the huge feast thatlaid before her. Jon had taken notice too but he was mindful enough to keep itto himself.

“Eat, Jon! You’ll need it! To bed yourwoman and bed her well!” a brawny ginger haired man sauntered over to them,reeking of ale. Sansa turned away. No one will touch me, not even Jon. Jon onlysmiled and drank up his ale. He knew it was time for the feast to wind down. He was exhausted and didn’t care much for whatever else. All that mattered wasthat no one was going to touch Sansa ever again. And soon, he had to make plansto venture past the Wall to return Lady Sansa where she belonged. It wasn’tgoing to be easy and even dangerous, if they came across the rangers fromCastle Black.

“It’s time to go to bed,” Jon said quietlyto his new bride. Sansa glared and pulled away from his touch. Jon sighed, athow this was going to be a dreary long night; for both of them.

“Sansa, before they carry you to my tentand strip you naked, please do as I say, my Lady,” he continued, seeing how sherefused to budge earlier. Sansa shut her eyes for a second and eventually stoodup with Jon. The crowd cheered and hollered as the newlyweds stepped out totheir tent.

Sansa walked meekly behind him in hermended dress with a new fur cloak that Jon had draped over her shouldersearlier during the ceremony. It felt heavy and stifling even in the bitingcold.

Jon’s tent was much bigger than hers andbrightly lit and warm. Though not much to look at. The bed was made up of balesof hay and a heap of animal skins and furs atop it. A small fire stood in themiddle of the tent and all Sansa wanted to do was crawl up next to it and fadeaway into nothingness.

Jon removed his furs and weapon belt,leaving only his tunic on as Sansa watched him from a distance. Sansa tried tolook away but her intrigue got the better of her. Who was this man? He spokelike a Northerner, behaved like a Northerner, still had all his teeth and even had manners. A leader ofmen in the tribe of Thenn was all she heard of him. Somehow, it wasn’t enoughto satisfy her curiosity. Now that they were married, Sansa supposed it wasonly right to get to know her new husband.

A soft hiss snapped her back to her sensesas she saw Jon reach from behind him to peel off his tunic slowly, exposing aworn bandage stained with dried blood plastered across his back. It was obvious he wasnot able to look after the wound well as the odour that emanated from it soonfilled the tent. Sansa covered her nose discreetly. Jon groaned in pain as thetunic came off his shoulder finally and onto the ground. The sight of hismaimed back was enough for Sansa to curse the gods.

“You’re hurt,” Sansa said, quiteplaintively, attempting to hide the grave concern in her voice.

“A few scratches that is all. It will begone in a few days,” Jon smirked as he turned to face her. standing half naked.Sansa had never seen the bare chest of a man before and the chiselled physiquethat her new husband presented before her had Sansa let out a small gasp. Itwas probably a good thing, then that he did not look one bit like thewildlings. That if she was going to have to stay near him always, at least hewas comely enough for her to withstand and look upon.

A silence stood between them and Sansa soon realised what was about to take place. Oh, gods, no.

It was her duty. Shutting her eyes, Sansaturned around and uncloaked herself. She took as much time as she could eventhough she could feel Jon’s burning stare at the back of her head. He wasanticipating what every man would on their wedding night. She couldn’t blamehim. She had agreed to the arrangement, it was the best choice she had of everreturning home. But to be touched by a strange man, to be taken as a bride - she wasn’t ready.Perhaps she never will be. This wasn’t what she had in mind with the prince inher dreams. The tears started flowing again and Sansa fought to keep calm.

“Lady Sansa… You don’t have to. If youdon’t want to.”

Sansa paused. A wave of relief washed over her.

“I meant what I said. What I promised you.We will leave once it’s safe. I hope we will get you home safely, my Lady. And I won’t ask anything of you that you do not wish to give me.”

Sansa exhaled the breath she didn’t know she was holding. How she wished Jon knew how happy it made her, hearing those wordsonce more. How happy he had made her. The gods must have heard her prayers.

Jon smiled and took some of the furs fromtheir makeshift bed and laid them on the ground beside the fire. He sat down todrink a cup of ale before Sansa wondered why he wasn’t in bed already.

“My-my Lord? Aren’t you tired? Perhaps it’stime for bed?”

Although, Sansa was more than happy to sleepnext to the fire. Jon gave a polite grin and shook his head slightly.

“The bed, is all yours, my Lady. The firehere is warm enough for me,” he pointed at the flames with his cup.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. I am pleased enoughlaying by the fire, my Lord. If that is all right with you.”

Jon chuckled. He was amused at thecourtesies of the young lady. She was indeed beautiful, skin as pale as thesummer moon and hair kissed by fire, with eyes as enchanting as the bluestskies. But, she wasn’t really his. He had made a promise. Under differentcircumstances, if he was raised the Thenn way, he would ravage her until shecould barely walk the day after but… his old guardian had taught him better.He was of no wildling blood and he would prove it as a testament to his realheritage. But that was his secret and his alone. Whether or not he shouldconfide in his new wife, only time would tell.

“No, my Lady. Living in a camp must alreadybe hard enough. No wife of mine would be sleeping on the ground. Please, thebed is yours. It’s not much but it’s good enough for sore bones and such.”

Sansa returned his smile and nodded. As shesat on the bed, the animal skins and furs softly embraced her as she gentlylaid down; Sansa could not stop thinking of Jon’s badly wounded back. At leastif he was kind to her, she could repay him with some of her own.

“My Lord?”

“Sansa, please, call me Jon.”

Sansa blushed as he turned his gaze on heras she called out to him from his bed. Their bed.

“Thank you. For helping me. I will neverforget it and I’m sure my father will thank you for your kindness.”

Jon’s gaze lingered as their eyes met againand  Sansa could feel everything elsearound her melt away. There was something in Jon that caused a stirring in her.Perhaps it was his sad dark grey eyes that drew her in despite her resistance.

“May I sit with you?”

“Sansa, you may do whatever you like. Isuppose as long as you’re with me.”

Sansa nodded shyly and sat up. Gingerly, she tiptoed and found a warm spotinches away from him. Jon felt a breath hitch in his chest when he saw how beautiful she glowed in the pale amber light.

“Your back. How did you get hurt? If I mayask?”

“Ah, yes. A skirmish. In a small village,they took our livestock. So we took theirs.”

“Raiding cattle?”

“I suppose so. There’s many of us, manymouths to feed. It’s hard in these parts. Hunting is sometimes scarce. You maynot agree but that’s our way of life.”

“I have only heard stories, that is all.”

Jon chuckled. He too, heard of many storiesof the wildlings and it was amusing to him now that he had become one.

“How is it that you don’t speak like them,Jon? And you know so much about lords.”

Jon eyed Sansa nervously and sat upright,slightly uncomfortable at the sudden probe. Sansa’s eyes were mostly fixed onthe flickering flames than on him and it put him at ease a little. Still he hadto be careful lest his secret be known.

“I was ten when the wildlings took me in.Just a boy. I had no mother or a father. Just a guardian who looked after me.Taught me all I needed to know. Lived in a small village just before the Wall.The wildlings came and took over, he died fighting for me. But managed to killa few of them and two were the sons from the tribe of Thenn. So, they thoughtit was justice to bring me up as one of theirs.” It was a good story he had thought of many times over, often to himself since the day he was taken by the free folk. The truth was far from it. 

Sansa wished she hadn’t asked. He was justa boy.

“You were taken? A prisoner? So you neverwere one of the free folk.”

“Aye. Not so much a prisoner. I supposethey found some use for me,” Jon nodded, looking at his weapons strewn on theground.

“Does it hurt?”

Jon pondered on her question. The tribe wasthe only family Jon had ever known. He had fought alongside them, ate withthem, even killed for them. They had taken away the only family he had but unwittingly offered a clan who now called him their lord and leader. No, it doesn’treally hurt.

“Your back, I mean. Perhaps I could take alook at it for you,” Sansa continued.

“It would please me to care for my lordhusband, to see that he is well. Otherwise, who can I count on to bring me backhome?” Sansa persuaded, seeing Jon’s hesitance. A good point he could notargue, though touched by her gesture. A kind woman.

“There is some water over there forwashing.”

Sansa grabbed hold of the cask and lookedaround her for clean rags she could use. There was none.

Well… if I must, then so be it.

Sansa sat down again and lifted her skirts.Her small clothes were the perfect material and probably cleaner than anythingelse in the camp.

“My Lady, what are you doing?” Jon asked asSansa began to undress. She was his bride that was true and Jon had his ownmanly needs but could he refuse her? It would be foolish to do so.

“I beg your pardon, but this is probablyquite un lady-like of me that you have to witness,” Sansa quickly apologisedbefore ripping the hem of her small clothes into small thin rags. Jon could nothelp but laugh. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Sansa motioned for him to turn around andJon winced as Sansa’s fingers made her way to the gashes on his back. Her touchwas soft and tender, almost loving and Jon fought to sit still. In his mind,Sansa would already be in his arms and his mouth on her pretty lips.

“Sit still. This may hurt a little,” Sansawarned as she pulled the stained bandage off his skin. Jon howled and writhedin pain, feeling a thousand arrows piercing his back.

“I’m sorry my Lord! Please, sit still!”

Jon took a few deep breaths, cursing underhis breath, glad that he chopped the head off the one who drove the axe ontohis back. Sansa’s hushed whispers as she washed the wounds had somehow calmedhim and soon he realised he knew the words too. It was a song. He had heard thesong once before but quite vaguely. Her soft tones were enough to lull him to asense of peace and tranquility. It was almost surreal.

“You have a lovely voice, Sansa,” closing his eyes at her touch.

“It’s a hymn that I sing to sleepsometimes. My Septa taught me.”

“She taught you well,” Jon praised as hesighed and melted at the gentleness Sansa was treating him with.

“Yes… She did.” Her fingers paused andJon noticed her touch had left him completely. Instead of a song, Jon heardhushed sobbing. Turning around, Jon saw Sansa wiping her tears hastily, her body heaving uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry if it was something I said, myLady. I didn’t mean to-”

“I miss them. I miss my family. All ofthem. They must think I am already dead,” Sansa struggled through her sobs, hertears and sadness unrelenting.

“Hush now, they will jump for joy when theysee you. They will always hope for your return, my Lady. I know it. I will getyou home, Sansa. Whatever it takes, I promise I will,” Jon said, lifting herchin with his finger to meet her eyes. Her pale blue eyes were glimmering withtears and her face red from crying but it only made her more beautiful.

Sansa nodded and closed her eyes as shecalmed down. With their faces now almost nose to nose, Jon wiped away a teartenderly as it rolled down her cheek. As Sansa opened her eyes once more, Jon’sgaze was still on her, only this time the eyes that were staring back weretender and kind. It was as if he was another person entirely, someone she couldtrust and even grow to love.

“I know you will. I trust you.”

Sansa closed her eyes again, this timereleased from her pain as his lips grazed hers and his warmth wrapped aroundher in an embrace she wished would never end.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #31 days of jonsa #day 14 #canon divergent au #anon prompts #jonsa fic #anon asks