moonsofmars-writes

[moonsofmars-writes]

The seed of a promise

Fandom: 七つの大罪 - 鈴木央 | Nanatsu no Taizai | The Seven Deadly Sins - Suzuki Nakaba (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Diane & Fairy King Harlequin Characters: Fairy King Harlequin, Diane, Ludociel, Gerheade, Helbram, Elaine Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, War, Death, Blood and Injury, Nothing is graphic, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Hopeful Ending, Pre-Relationship

Summary: In a world where the Holy War didn’t end with Elizabeth and Meliodas, where Mael never became Estarossa, a final battle has just been fought.

The Holy War is finally over.

As the victors gather and the vanquished are chased and finished, the young Fairy King tries to find a way to prevent yet another tragedy - and ends up finding an ally in an unexpected place.

Notes: I've been wondering for a while what would have happened if Gowther's plan hadn't worked and Demons and Goddesses had kept fighting and this is what I managed to come up with! Since it's me, King and Diane are also here - with a whole lot of drama.

Please, enjoy!

There is blood on his hands and his clothes, on his wings and his hair. It makes his jacket heavy and his skin unpleasantly slick. Harlequin can’t bring himself to care right now.

The battle is over, yet he keeps flying over the field, eyes darting from a corpse to the other, studying the survivors as they make their way through the craters and bodies that cover the ground. Most of them walk silently, looking around as if they just woke up from a dream; others are frantic and turn their heads left and right, calling out names and getting no answer.

Harlequin doesn’t call but still searches. The knot in his stomach starts loosening only when he finally catches a glimpse of Elaine on the ground, standing among some human soldiers, alive and apparently unarmed. He is too distant to see her expression when she looks up at him, but he can read her heart as she can read his and what he reads is relief and exhaustion and grief. Later, when they’ll be home, they’ll find each other to whisper words of loss and comfort, or maybe they’ll just rest together, shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand, as they did when they were younger. Right now, they both have other matters to take care of.

Minutes later, Helbram waves at him, a tired grin on his face. He is floating over the remains of a burned tree surrounded by a group of Fairies, to whom he soon returns to give orders. Harlequin doesn’t approach them and heads forward, feeling relieved that his best friend is fine. He knows he can leave this part to him; after all, Helbram has been his first in command for years. He knows perfectly how to handle the aftermath of a battle.

Gerheade is the next. His advisor looks tired, there is a cut on her cheek and bruises on her left arm, but the purple blood staining her dress isn’t hers. “We are still not sure about the number,” she says after a quick bow. They have done this countless times before, and she knows exactly what he wants to know. “For now, the reports indicate that more than five hundred have fallen. The wounded we have found are being taken care of by the Goddesses. I’ll personally check how many won’t be able to fly back on their own.”

Harlequin nods, clasping his hands behind his back. More than five hundred have died today. He expected a high number, considering that they have battled for hours; he still feels sick. More than five hundred Fairies won’t return to the Fairy King’s Forest alive, five hundred people who trusted him, followed him, and he failed to protect. Deep down, he knows it could have gone worse. If they had lost this battle, he doubts many would have left the field alive, and their home would have been next. Had they lost here, his entire Clan would have eventually been wiped away by the enemy.

Still. Five hundred. He swallows hard and sighs, “Give the order to gather the bodies. We are taking them home.”

Gerheade frowns, a question on her lips, but she holds it back when she meets his eyes. “As you wish, my king.” They have never collected such a large amount of bodies from the battlefield, and it will take hours to find them all and bring them back to the Fairy King’s Forest. It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t protect them, but this doesn’t mean he will abandon them. They deserve this, at least.

His next task is a little more bothersome but necessary. Tomorrow morning there will be an official meeting for the leaders of Stigma, but he doesn’t want to leave before checking on the Goddesses.

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As he flies, Harlequin’s gaze turns to the east. That’s where the Demons came from, where the Demon King opened a portal from the Demon Realm to bring most of his army to Britannia. He is fairly sure that the portal collapsed when the Demon King died, destroyed by the hand of the Supreme Deity; still, many Demons flew in that direction when they realized the battle was lost as if in a last attempt to save their life. That’s where the Goddesses warriors have followed them, too.

In the distance, Harlequin can see figures battling in the air, he can see smoke rising from the ground and flashes of light against the darkening blue of the sky. Inside, he feels nothing but exhaustion. Driven by the euphoria following their victory, some Fairies have tried to chase after the Demons too, yelling menaces and obscenities. He stopped them, of course. He has no rule over the other Clans, but he does over his people and he decided that today, no other Fairy will die and no other Fairy will kill.

Briefly, he wonders if there are still Giants standing with the Demons. So many kept fighting until the very end, even after their leader Matrona was killed, but it’s hard to believe that not even one gave up to fear and tried to save themselves at last. As he stares at the fight that still consumes in the distance, Harlequin feels as his bowels have turned into stone. Even if they had tried to escape, they are probably being killed right now. And all of that, because the Giant Clan chose to side with the Demons.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, so he decides to push it away and focus on his task. There is nothing he can do for the Giants right now. And at least, even though he knows he is being selfish, he is relieved he doesn’t sense her power over there. Perhaps it’s because she is already dead, but right now, Harlequin allows himself to hope.

He finds Ludociel hovering high in the sky, giving orders to a small group of Goddesses. “Ah, Fairy King,” he welcomes him with his usual smile, gesturing at his soldiers to go. Some bow and fly away, others stay close, hands tight around their weapons, watching carefully their surroundings. Ludociel’s guards. Stigma’s victory has been overwhelming today, but they are obviously not going to let their guard down anytime soon.

Ludociel pays no attention to them as he turns towards Harlequin. There are stains of dirt and dry blood on his feathers, yet his cape is immaculate, so white it hurts his eyes; he probably changed it as soon as the battle was over. “I see your army is preparing to retreat.”

“My people need rest,” Harlequin says, eyes wandering over the few Goddesses around them, over their tattered clothes and bruised skin. “As does yours.”

“We will get to it,” Ludociel dismisses the problem with a wave of his hand. “As soon as our enemies are gone for good.”

There is something in his tone that makes Harlequin’s hands twitch. “Most of the Demon warriors have died today,” he says slowly, “The Demon King is gone. All his Commandments are gone.” He took some of them down himself. Even the Demon King’s son fell, overpowered by the magic of the Archangels. “Isn’t it enough?”

Ludociel hums. “The most of the work is done, undoubtedly. However, we can’t know for sure how many Demons are left in the Demon Realm unless we don’t verify.” His voice is sweet as honey, it clashes unpleasantly with the cold implication of his sentence.

“We both know that the ones left in the Demon Realm are mostly civilians, Ludociel. Will you slaughter them too? Even the ones who cannot fight? Even their children?”

There is a moment of pause, as Ludociel studies him, tilting his head, his expression unchanged. “We will do what’s necessary,” he finally says. “We don’t want anything like this to happen again, don’t we?”

It takes an effort not to react to the veiled threat in his words, but Harlequin knows this game well; he won’t offer Ludociel anything, especially not a sign of weakness. “What about the Giants?” He asks instead.

Ludociel paints regret in his expression like a skilful painter. “They will be taken care of too. They are traitors, and as such they will be considered.” He slightly shakes his head, “Such a shame, don’t you think?”

This time, Harlequin doesn't hold back. “I don’t think it’s wise to pursue them more. They have lost many lives today, and they lost their chief. They will not be a threat anytime soon.”

“Ah, still nostalgic of the times they were our allies, young king?”

“I just believe,” he answers coldly, “that the relationships among our Clans will run more smoothly if they’ll see us show mercy. The Giants they left behind today are but their youngsters and mothers with children - they knew this battle was decisive. Are you truly planning to exterminate them all?”

“What I’m planning to do is to find them and ensure that we won’t get another unpleasant surprise. Stigma will decide about their fate.” The Archangel shakes his head again, and this time a faint smile appears on his lips. “You are too young to remember clearly about their treason, I’m afraid. We won’t show their warriors more mercy than what they showed us, and about the others … there is time, now. The humans will want to have their say too.”

There is no point in discussing this now. Harlequin feels the gaze of the other Goddesses on him, the resolution radiating from Ludociel’s heart, and suddenly, he feels incredibly exhausted. “Very well,” is what he forces out of his mouth, “We will speak about this tomorrow.”

“Indeed,” Ludociel hums before looking away, as to imply that Harlequin is dismissed. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, both physical and emotional, but this time his arrogance doesn’t touch the Fairy King. He leaves without another word and flies down, towards the scarred ground.

Giant, Fairy, Demon and Goddesses’ magic destroyed this plain. Rocky spurs rise wrapped in vines among still fuming craters, and wherever his eyes can reach hundreds, thousands of bodies are scattered. Harlequin would want to look away, for once. He is so tired of death.

And that’s exactly why he forces himself to keep looking. He is tired of death, and he won’t let anyone else die in this war if he can help it. He already looked before, but now he has to make sure that her body isn’t among the fallen. Could have she fled? It hurts to realize that he can’t be sure she didn’t. The person he needs right now, the person who could help him prevent another bloodshed, inhabits his memories as the ghost of a gentle child who offered him friendship when life was easier and Fairies and Giants were allies. Even though he has seen her later, again and again, on too many battlefields, the first image that comes to his mind when he thinks of her is from their past.

Eyes shining in the light of dusk, a finger raised to make a vow.

“We will be friends forever! Like Drole and Gloxinia!”

Warmth tinges his cheeks with red as he raises his finger too.

“We will. I promise!”

He is rewarded with a bright smile that outshines the sun itself.

The smile on Harlequin’s face is now bitter. It didn’t last long, their promise - the promise of two kids from two different clans that thought that war could never harm them. After all, Gloxinia used to tell him that the Fairies and the Giants had been close for centuries, that their bond would have never faded. He also used to smile and tell him not to worry about him when he left for a battle because he was the king of the Fairies and he would have always come back to his people.

Gloxinia had been wrong about many things.

They had died together, he and Drole, the king of Giants, during a battle so dreadful that Fairies and Goddesses still refused to talk about it. They had died and they had left their Clans in chaos, one lost without a guide and the other thrown in the hands of a young Fairy with too little knowledge of the world outside his forest. As new Fairy King, Harlequin had chosen to remain loyal to the Stigma and the Fairies had followed him, while the Giants had forged a new alliance, one with the monster who was able to defeat their king in combat. The Demon King himself. It was usual for the Giants to follow the strongest, but this didn’t make their betrayal less hurtful.

Harlequin had come to terms with it years before, but he had been unable to forget about his promise to the young Giant girl who had been his best friend when their Clans were allies and he was nothing more than a simple Fairy Gloxinia had taken under his wing. When he saw her again, after years of training and clashes, she was a warrior under the direct command of Matrona, and she danced ballets of death and destruction.

He could never bring himself to face her. He focused on other enemies, turning his back on her, hoping that she would do the same. Even though they had been enemies way longer than they had been friends, he couldn’t help but fear the day he would have found her dead body on the battlefield. She was a tie to a past he missed terribly, a tie he simply didn’t want to cut because once gone, it would have been lost forever.

Until now, she survived, and there is a part of him that refuses to give up just yet. It takes effort to use his magic after he used so much for the battle, but he grits his teeth and flies faster, trying to detect any sign of her power. Even a crumble would be enough, to at least tell him that she lives.

Long minutes later, as he flies over a small crater that seems to brim with corpses, he halts in mid-air; it wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t known what to look for, but there is a presence - distant, feeble, like a spark among ashes. Harlequin turns his head towards the wood that skirts the battlefield at North. It hasn’t been spared by the battle, not completely, but many trees are still standing. It wouldn’t be a bad place to hide.

After ensuring that no one is watching him, Harlequin flies lower, swerving among the debris, and fastly approaches the wood, following the trace of magic. It becomes stronger as he enters the tree lines, and with it, his heart pounds faster and his bowels knot. That’s when the traces of blood appear, with the obvious signs of someone passing among these branches, breaking the frail wood. From there, it’s not hard to find her.

When he finally sees her, she is lying with her back against a tree, the broken handle of a war hammer in her hand. Her eyes are on him as soon as he emerges from the branches, studying him from under dirty brown hair. Her expression hardens, but she stays still, waiting for him to reach her.

It’s not that bad, he thinks as he examines her injuries while slowly flying towards her. Her left leg seems to be broken and her face is scratched and swollen, and fresh blood soaks her clothes coming from dozens of cuts on her arms and shoulders, but she is a Giant and he saw Giants survive way worse than this. The thought doesn’t stop his heart from sinking in his gut. He can’t leave her like this.

He halts mere feet from her, distant enough not to make her feel threatened - or so he hopes - but close enough to speak with her. But as her violet eyes bury into his soul, he finds himself at a loss of words. Here is the child who used to play tag with him, who smiled when he gave her flowers and danced with him in the bright days of summer. Here is the child who told him she loathed violence so much she would have rather abandoned her own Clan than fight this war. The child who would have wanted to use her dance to build, rather than to destroy. He would have liked to live in a world where her wish had come true.

“Have you come to finish me?”

Her voice, weak but firm, feels cold as ice on his skin. His expression doesn’t change, though - he has been practising his self-control for too long to let it slip, how deep her words wound him.

Not once in the past years, when they saw each other on the battlefield, she has shown a sign of recognizing her childhood friend, and still now that they are finally facing each other, her expression is a mask of stone and mistrust. Has she really forgotten about him? Does she truly believe he would go after her just to kill her?

“I haven’t,” he hurries to answer as he lifts his hand; when the green light of Pollen Garden surrounds her, the Giant hisses and pulls back, pressing her back against the trunk, then freezes and watches with wide eyes as the luminescent pollen rains over her, closing her wounds and welding her bones. When she returns her gaze on him, it’s filled with wonder and confusion.

“The Goddesses are chasing the warriors who fled the battlefield,” Harlequin says, “but they won’t attack the Giants who didn’t participate, not today.” With another movement of his hand, his Spirit Spear disappears. “You should be able to come back to your home before them. Matrona is dead, but you were her second in command. They will follow you, and you have to take them away. Leave Megadozer and hide somewhere until the Goddesses and the Humans’ bloodthirst has quenched. This war lasted far too long and too many have been hurt. Even though I don’t think they all are willing to harm civilians, the situation could easily escalate, and I doubt that I … that anyone would be able to stop it.”

Her eyes darken but she nods. She knows as well they won’t make it easy for the Giants. Slowly, she stands, until her face is at the same level as his, her stare fixed on him. There’s a part of Harlequin that is tempted to use his heart reading powers to know what she is thinking now, but as usual, he suppresses it. Heart reading is as natural as breathing for him and helped him so many times, but it can be a double-edged sword. Besides, they aren’t fighting - it would be rude .

“Why are you doing this?”

He should expect her next question, but it still floors him, leaving him silent and still as he thinks about the right words to use.

“The Giants betrayed you,” she insists. “We killed so many among the Fairies. And yet you are here, helping me, giving me the chance to help my people. I want to know why.”

He hesitates another moment before speaking, staring back into her eyes. “I have never wanted to see the Giants annihilated, and I’m tired of slaughters. Our Clans hurt each other enough and you don’t pose a threat for us anymore. I hope that under your guidance, the Giants will follow a new path, one that will allow them to coexist with the other Clans again, once the wounds this war left will start to heal.”

“My guidance? Have you seen me?” He is taken aback by the bitterness in her voice. “There is so much blood on my hands. I’m no more than a murder, Fairy King. What makes you think that I will make the Giant follow the path of peace?”

“Because you never wanted this.” The words slip from his mouth before he can stop them, and they are met by shock flourishing on her face. With a sigh, Harlequin continues, folding his hands in front of him not to move them nervously. “You don’t take pleasure from fighting and killing, nor you have reasons to continue this war. We all have done what we had to, Diane, and we all will answer to the consequences by ourselves. But I believe that now that you have the chance to do what’s right, you will take it.”

She gasps at the mention of her name and watches him in awe. He expects her to question him now, to yell at him to get out of her head, as they all do when they think he is reading their hearts. But again, she surprises him. “You … you remember me,” she whispers, covering her mouth with a hand. “Don’t you, Harlequin?”

Breath stops in his throat. “I - of course I do, how could have I forgotten? You were my best friend.” He swallows, his hands clenching around each other. “I thought you didn’t remember me.”

“I thought you didn’t remember me!” She shakes her head, “I spent years stuck in Megadozer, training for the war, hoping that when they’d let me out, I could at least see you again. But the first time I met you on the battlefield, you didn’t even look at me. You never even tried to talk to me.”

“I kept my distance because I didn’t want us to be forced to fight. I couldn’t have brought myself to hurt you,” he admits.

“I couldn’t have either, I wouldn’t have. I thought you didn’t recognize me - or you simply didn’t remember me.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, “You didn’t say anything either. I thought it had simply been too long since we were friends. Besides, I ... changed quite a bit, since then.”

Diane raises a brown, examining him. “You’ll have to do way more than growing a pair of wings for me not to recognize you.”

Harlequin can’t stop an astounded laugh, “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” she snorts. “Though … I didn’t expect the hair.” For the first time since forever, he sees her lips curve into a smile. It’s surprising, how much he missed it. “No,” she continues, shaking her head, “I was afraid of what would have happened if I had confronted you. It’s not just your appearance, your entire attitude changed since we were kids. I thought that even if I had reminded you about our friendship, I couldn’t be sure about your reaction. You could have not cared about it anyway.”

“Diane, I’m so sorry. If I had known, I …” Truth to be told, he isn’t sure what he would have done. Reconnected with her? While they were on the opposite sides of a war? There was no way it would have worked smoothly.

“I’m sorry too,” she says softly, “I’ve missed you.”

A shiver travels through his body. “And I, you.” There is so much he would want to ask, so much he would want to tell her. She is Diane, his best friend, yet she has changed so much and he thinks he would want to know better the person she became. But there is no time. The sun is going to set soon. “If you want to go home, you should go now,” he says quietly, “Before someone finds us.”

She heaves a sigh and nods, looking down. “I know,” she says as sadness obscures the light in her eyes. “They’ll be waiting for news.”

As are the Fairies he left in the safety of the Fairy King’s Forest. Harlequin will have to do the same himself, later; he will have to look at his people and tell them about the losses they suffered today. There have been so many battles in this bloody war, but this part never got easier. “I’m sorry,” he says again, even though he isn’t sure what he is apologizing for. “If things were different, I’d want you to come with me. I would be able to keep you safe in the Fairy Realm, not even the Supreme Deity can come there without my permission. But …”

“I can’t leave the others behind,” Diane finishes, shaking her head. “I’ll find a way to keep everyone safe. Thank you, Harlequin. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this.”

“I do.”

Her stunned expression would be funny if it wasn’t for the way her body tenses and her hand clenches around the remains of her hammer. A few minutes of reconciliation can’t cancel years of war, he bitterly thinks as he hurries to explain, “I want things to change between our Clans. I know it will be difficult and things will probably never be like they were before, but I want us to stop fighting and to be on good terms, at least. And I hope you can help me with this.”

It takes her some moments to answer. “I’d like that, too,” she admits. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to change their minds. Giants are raised to be warriors, and fighting for our honour is supposed to be our reason to live. Some will want revenge. But … I’ll try to - I'll find a way. I won’t let them throw their lives away like this and I won’t let them stain their hands with blood”. Something new shines in her eyes when she looks at him, “I promise.”

“Thank you,” he answers, letting a relieved smile curve his lips. “And I promise you that I’ll do the same. No harm will come to you from my people, as long as I breathe.”

This is so different from the promise they made each other so long ago - for once, they do not seal it with their pinkies - yet he can’t help but feel a little bit nostalgic; there is something in Diane’s expression that makes him believe she feels it too. There is no time to evoke images of a past long gone, though, and so she nods and moves away, her walk as swift as before the battle.

Before she disappears between the trees, she turns around one last time to look at him. It’s hard to read the mix of emotion in her eyes, but despite the curiosity, Harlequin avoids reading her heart. He smiles, instead. And she smiles back, just for a moment.

Then, she is gone.

When Harlequin comes back to the battlefield, his Fairies have been gathered and are working on finding a way to bring the bodies of their fallen back home. Humans are going back to their settlement, and in the distance, he sees a few Goddesses preparing to return to the Celestial Realm. The air is still filled with anguish and mourning, but something else smoulders in the hearts of the survivors, a sense of excitement that Harlequin knows will rise to the surface tonight, when celebrations will be held all around Britannia. If just for a few hours, people will try to forget about what the future holds for them, to finally allow themselves to live free of the shadow of the war.

As he lands among the Fairies, as he solemnly nods to their tired bows, Harlequin wonders when he will be able to do the same. For others, the war is over, but he knows his allies too well to think the peace after this war will be easy. If Diane manages to hide her people away, Ludociel won’t be happy, nor will the human kings. They will want answers and will search the entire country for them.

But there is something that makes the morrow look a little bit easier; it’s the promise of a different future, the seed of an agreement he just planted alongside with a Giant girl.

So Harlequin holds his head up and breathes in deeply, feeling like part of the weight on his shoulders has been finally lifted; then, he gets ready to lead his people home.

[moonsofmars-writes]

Hello Jlaire fans!! After a few months of art and writing production, we can delightedly announce that ‘Eres Tú’ will be open for preorders on April 1st!! More details to come!

Our amazing, beloved, hardworking, glorious artists and writers have created so many pieces for the zine. Please give them some love in this contributor announcement!

As of tomorrow, we’re going to start showing off zine previews, starting with our insanely GORGEOUS wraparound cover by @kurocyou . Expect a couple of sneak peeks before we reveal the full image!

As I write all this out, I’m filled with so much joy. Me ( @faerie-ana ) and @/cicely.wright have been pouring our hearts into organizing this passion project that we can’t wait to share with the #talesofarcadia community.

To everyone reading this, thank you for all the support you’ve shown this account thus far. To make the zine a proper success, please comment on and save posts, and share the news if you can!! This book is going to be so beautiful! 💕💕💕

As always, keep it crispy!!

[moonsofmars-writes]

to hold you, finally

Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra) Characters: Hordak (She-Ra), Entrapta (She-Ra), Adora (She-Ra) Tags: Season/Series 05, set at the end of season 5, First Kiss, Love Confessions, kind of sappy 

Summary: A take on what happened when Hordak and Entrapta were finally reunited, after She-Ra freed him from Prime's control.

(Basically, Entrapdak kissing)

Being freed by Horde Prime feels like emerging from unimaginable depths. Hordak gasps for air and opens his eyes wide. His sight is unfocused at first and there is so much light blinding him from every side. But this is not the cold, aseptic light of Prime’s domain. It's warm instead, radiant, and when his eyes adjust to it, it welcomes him in a world made of colours. In front of him, he can finally recognize a familiar face - blue eyes, golden hair, a gentle smile.

She-Ra?  

No, he blinks as memories emerge from the back of his mind. Adora. The child he found in that field, so tiny he could hold her in the palm of his hand. It was so long ago that it almost feels unreal. Yet, he remembers, now. He remembers everything.

“I remember you,” he whispers. He is rewarded with a warm and gentle look as her fingers leave his cheeks. She helps him stand up holding his hands, and Hordak cannot but follow her movements, his mind still addled. In his last moments, he saw Prime’s true essence, he felt him being ripped from his mind and then annihilated, leaving no trace. It would be almost too easy to believe that all that’s left of him is a mild headache and a sense of sudden emptiness, along with the lingering, revolting feeling of having his body used against his will. But Hordak is smarter than that, and this time, he doesn’t want to lie to himself. Prime has left scars and fresh wounds on him and his brothers - and on the people he threatened and destroyed, not only here on Etheria. Hordak knows there will be consequences to deal with.

But these are matters he will consider later. Now it’s the moment to ask why Adora, She-Ra, defender of Etheria, is assisting him. Hordak is not good at reading people, he has never been, but he can say for sure she means no harm, not anymore. The smile on her lips hasn’t vacillated once, it’s still genuinely curving her lips when she lets him go. He watches her, unsure what to say, but before any word can leave his mouth, someone calls his name - and he almost stumbles as he turns around as fast as he can, because he knows that voice. Her voice.

Entrapta’s arms are around his waist in the blink of an eye, the impact of her body against his making him spin. “I’m so glad you are here,” she says, her face buried in his chest, “We have so much to talk about!”

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“I …” Hordak hesitates just for a moment before landing his hands on her head and shoulder, “Entrapta …”. He feels her barely tremble under his touch as she muffles a sound against his chest - something small between a laugh and a sob. That’s what breaks him. He forgets about everything else as he holds her tighter, needing to feel her warmth against him, to know that this is no dream; and when he realizes it’s not enough, he falls on his knees and pulls her against him, a hand sinking in her hair as the other holds the soft skin of her back. Her face is now in the crock of his neck and her arms around his shoulders, holding him as tight as he is holding her.

“I missed you so much,” he feels her sighing against his skin, “When Prime took over you, I thought -”

“I hurt you.” The blood in his veins turns into ice. Having Prime possessing his body was like being imprisoned inside his mind, watching with horror as his creator menaced to destroy everything and everyone with himself, Entrapta included. His hands tickle as he remembers how he grabbed her and dragged her back on Etheria to die, how she shouted and fought. Even then, she didn't harm him, she didn't even try to use her hair against him. His heart clenches. “I am -” She squirms in his grip and he immediately lets her go, expecting her to push him away now that he reminded her about that.

But she doesn’t. Entrapta’s hands are firm on his shoulders as she looks right in his eyes, “That wasn’t you. It was Horde Prime and he is gone. You are free now, Hordak.” She smiles even though there are tears in her eyes and it occurs to him only now that there are tendrils of her hair all around him, gently but firmly holding his arms and back.

It’s good to feel her touch, because without it, Hordak fears he would be falling. The enormity of his latest actions threatens to crush him any moment, but he holds out and focuses on her, his heart pounding in his chest faster than ever. He has to tell her, and he has to do it now, before she is taken away from him again. So he pushes everything else in the back of his mind and speaks. “I have never wanted to leave you.” Her eyebrows rise and her lips part, but he doesn’t let her the time to answer. “When it was the time to open the portal, Catra told me you let the Princesses in and I … I was fool enough to believe her. You could have died, and it would have been because of my idiocy. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but you must know that if I had known -” A lock of purple hair lands on his lips, silencing him.

“Scorpia told me. I understand, and I don’t blame you.” She makes him a small, sad smile as she cups his face in her hands, “But it’s the past. We are together now.”

Has she ever touched him like this? She has always preferred touching people with her hair, yet she hasn’t hesitated before to hold him in her harms, nor she is hesitating now that her fingers are firm on his cheeks. It’s inebriating. He sighs, and for the first time in too long, he can savour her scent, a mix of oil and steel and something that it's just hers. “Entrapta, I love you,” he says.

Her eyes widen. Hordak inhales sharply and shuts his mouth as his body stiffens. Was this too much? He doesn’t expect her to love him back, the affection she is showing him now is more than he could have dreamed, and he would be glad to be whatever she wants to be - friends, lab partners, anything. But if she pushed away now, if she ended their friendship because of how he feels … He is not ready to find out how much, exactly, that would hurt him.

But then Entrapta makes a small sound of excitement and the next thing he knows, her lips are on his, warm, soft and sweet. The kiss is a little clumsy at first, as his body is stiffened in surprise and amazement, but soon he melts into her, kissing her back - gently, then more fiercely when he feels her holding him closer and one of her hands run through his hair. It’s nothing like he has ever experienced and he is breathless when they part, almost gasping for hair.

“I love you too,” Entrapta says, mere centimetres from his lips - he can feel his heart skipping a beat. Then she pulls away, now looking at him with a wide smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Aaaaaaah this was great! Better than what I predicted! Oh, we are so going to do it again!”

“Whenever you wish,” he finds himself answering as he stares at her in awe.

“Perfect, it’s settled!” She kisses him again, this time just a quick peck that leaves him no time to kiss her back. “I have to find a recorder! And we should probably find somewhere where we can talk and - Oh! I have to show you soooo many things! And you must meet Wrong Hordak and Darla - I’m sure you’ll like them! I also want to run some tests, just to make sure that Horde Prime didn’t hurt you and -”

Entrapta keeps talking as she helps him stand up, as she holds his arm and escorts him down the hill, where other people are gathering; Hordak notices the other Princesses with their Etherian allies but mostly clones, dozens of clones, moving hesitantly and looking around like they just woke up from a too long sleep. They will need to be taken care of soon. But for now, even though tiredness is starting to weigh on his shoulders, Hordak listens only to her. Entrapta. The woman he loves and who loves him back. He is mildly aware of the stares they attract as they make their way through the crowd, of the wary and sceptical eyes lingering on his figure, but, he finds out, he does not care. Entrapta is at his side now. Together, they can face anything.

[moonsofmars-writes]

May I ask for a Monderi writing? Pls? Maybe about something fluff :3? I have no idea of what exactly tho 😅.

Hello! Thanks for the ask!

I wasn’t sure what to write for this at first but then managed to put this down. I hope you like it! 

“What did you want to talk about?” Monspeet asks as soon as they are in the yard. The night air is chill yet pleasant compared to the suffocating heat of Zeldris’ house, and finally his ears can take some rest from the throbbing music Galand always insists on putting on at parties. He breathes deeply as he closes his jacket and glances at Derieri. He is not sure why she asked him to talk outside. Perhaps she wants to leave? Even though she doesn't mind parties he knows she doesn't love them either, and to tell the truth, neither does he. It wouldn't be bad to leave with her now - surely better than coming back and watching Melascula dance on the table while Zeldris yells at her and Gloxinia films everything. Monspeet sighs, shaking his head. Why can’t their friends act normal for a change? 

“Here.”

He blinks as his eyes fall on the package Derieri is handing him now; it's large enough to cover both her hands. She avoids his haze when he looks up again, eyes stubbornly fixed on the bare bushes of Zeldris' yard.

"For me?" He asks, after a moment of hesitation. He is not forgetting any special occasion, right? His birthday has been months ago and it's still too soon for Christmas. Why should she give him a present?

Derieri shrugs and pushes the pack in his hands. Under the dark violet paper, he can feel something soft - clothing, maybe? “Thank you,” he says softly, “Can I open it?”

A muffled "Hm" is the only answer he gets, but he knows her well enough to notice the tension in her shoulders. Silently, he nods and focuses on the tape holding the wrapping paper together. He can feel her gaze upon him but he still refuses to speak. It would be useless to ask her what the gift is for; she will tell him if she wants, eventually.

The tape comes away easily under his careful hands, leaving the paper almost unscratched, and finally, he finds himself with a soft mass of black cloth in his hands. Frowning, he lifts and unwinds it. It’s a scarf, he realizes. A black, fluffy scarf, long enough that one of its ends almost touches the ground.

“You are always messing with that stupid collar when you are cold,” Derieri speaks quietly looking down, her blond locks covering her eyes.

“You didn’t have to -”

“I simply don’t want you to get sick like an idiot.” She interrupts him, shrugging.

Something warm pools inside his chest, right between his lungs, and for the first time that night his lips curve in a genuine smile. He suddenly remembers … was it two weeks ago? One? They were walking home together and after they stopped to get a coffee, he stood for some moments in front of a stand selling scarfs, hats and gloves, to examine a scarf not unlike this one; but it was getting late and Derieri was already walking away. She must have noticed him looking when she turned back to wait for him. She didn't say anything, though. Has she really been thinking about it all this time?

“Thank you, Deri,” he says finally and immediately wraps the scarf around his neck. The warm touch against his skin makes his smile widen, "I like it very much."

It's hard to tell in the dark, but he could swear she is smiling too.

[moonsofmars-writes]

Just a normal date

Fandom: Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro, Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez Characters: Jim Lake Jr. (Tales of Arcadia), Claire Nuñez Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Sort Of, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Some light angst, Anxious Jim, Post-Season 3 (Trollhunters), jlaire, Inspired by Fanart, Halloween

Summary: While in New Jersey, Claire asks Jim out for a surprise date.

“Jim, stop.” When he looks up, he finds Claire watching him with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

“What? I didn’t say anything!”

“You are overthinking! Don’t try to deny it,” she adds when he opens his mouth, “I can see it. Calm down, everything will be fine.” Her gaze softens, her grip on his hand tightens a little. “We are going to have fun, I promise. Trust me?”

Notes: I saw this amazing fanart by @sparemoon​ and simply had to write something about it because I loved the idea! It’s just so perfect! I hope you enjoy! 

It’s been weeks since they left Arcadia, weeks since he chose to become, as Merlin put it, a “true Trollhunter.” Yet Jim is still not used to feeling so incredibly vulnerable when he walks on plain sight, where everyone could see him and - well, most likely run away screaming. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asks, looking around nervously. Perhaps he is worrying too much; it’s late, the moon is a thin silver cut in the dark blue of the sky, and the streets are illuminated only by the warm light of the lampposts. The few people they met were dark, distant figures that quickly disappeared in other roads. He still feels nervous as he was walking in broad daylight. After all, this is not Arcadia. He highly doubts that here in New Jersey people would ignore a weird guy made of stone wandering in their roads, if they noticed him. He truly misses home right now. He and his friends hunted Goblins and fought Gumm-Gumms nightly and the only person who ever got suspicious was Eli! Things were so much easier there. 

“Don’t worry!” Claire glances back at him, a reassuring smile on her lips, and keeps dragging him down the street. “There is no danger, I promise you. I have a plan!” 

Read on AO3

“If you say so,” Jim says under his breath. His muscles are still tense and he is ready to jump away from the road if he hears someone approaching. Why has Claire insisted that they walked down the streets? But she seemed so sure when she asked him out for a date, so excited when she convinced him to go into town by her side, that Jim didn’t have the heart to refuse. They have grown closer during their trip and there have been plenty of strolls, just the two of them, holding hands and stargazing, but the last time they had a date in town was ... wait, how long ago was it? There had been that time before the Eternal Night, with Toby and Darci, but Morgana definitely ruined it. And before … Well, there were their patrols but they weren't very romantic - maybe before Gunmar got out of the Darklands? No, before there was Angor Rot and ... Jim sighs, giving up. Apparently being Trollhunters ruined way too many of their dates. 

That’s another reason why Claire deserves to have this. A normal date - or the closest thing to a normal date her half-troll boyfriend can offer her. She would deserve so much more, though, he muses, watching her walk in front of him. She deserves to be taken to dance or to the movie theatre or to eat something in a fancy restaurant - with someone who can actually eat with her instead of munching the cutlery. He hates the fact that he can’t do any of these things anymore. 

“Jim, stop.” When he looks up, he finds Claire watching him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. 

“What? I didn’t say anything!”

“You are overthinking! Don’t try to deny it,” she adds when he opens his mouth, “I can see it. Calm down, everything will be fine.” Her gaze softens, her grip on his hand tightens a little. “We are going to have fun, I promise. Trust me?”

It’s not like Jim has any other choice when she looks at him like that. “Always,” he mutters and he feels his cheeks getting warmer when she laughs. She let her hair down tonight and wears dark makeup around her eyes that make them look larger and intense. She is beautiful. 

“Okay Romeo, then let’s go! We are almost there!” She turns around, making her black skirt lift a little around her legs. The dress she is wearing is new, it has large sleeves and a hood, but he hasn't had much time to admire her before she put on a sweater. Has he told her already how good she looks with that dress? Maybe he should tell her again, if only to see her smile. He’ll have to remember to do that later. 

“Can you tell me where we are going now?” He asks instead. 

She turns just for a moment to wink at him, “You’ll see.” 

Jim knows better than to ask her again, he is not going to convince her to talk. He sighs and keeps following her, occasionally glancing around to make sure that no one is watching them from the windows. 

He hears the music first - loud and rhythmical, it feels closer every step he takes. His ears twitch and his nose wrinkles when the smell of smoke and food reaches him. That’s when they turn the corner and he can finally see the house down the street. Jim halts, his mouth falling open. The walls are illuminated by multicoloured lights and he can see the silhouettes of people dancing in the yard. “Is that - a party?”

“Yes!” Her mouth is curved into a wide grin, “Here’s where I came this morning. They said everyone could come and that we could join whenever we wanted!”

“But Claire, I …” He swallows and takes a step back, eyes darting from side to side looking for a hiding place. “I am so sorry, I can’t come with you! They would start screaming as soon as they see me, and I just don’t - I don’t want to ruin everything. You’ll get in trouble and - and the others are waiting for us, I can’t risk them being discovered!” His chest starts hurting and he has to stop to take a deep breath. 

“Jim, calm down, please!” Claire says as she reaches him and takes his hands in hers, “it’s okay! Do you -”

“It’s not okay!” He interrupts her, “You deserve someone who can take you at parties or wherever you want to go, and instead you are stuck with me.” He looks down, mouth clenched, and pulls back, away from the light of the lampposts and towards the shadow. 

“Jim, please, stop." He hesitates, eyes still fixed on the ground, and that's enough for her to reach him. He feels her fingers travel along his chin and cheeks, then rubbing tiny circles on his skin. "Look at me," she whispers. When he does, he finds her staring at him with determined eyes, brows slightly furrowed. “I don’t want a random guy who can take me at parties," she says firmly. "I want you, Jim Lake Jr. You and no one else. Do you get it? I love you, no matter where you can or cannot take me." 

He stares at her for long moments, breath stuck in his throat. She is not lying, she wouldn’t - she is really okay with it. Something warm seems to melt in his chest, and finally he feels his muscles relaxing. "I love you too," he manages to croak, making her smile. 

"Now, please, breathe."

He does, and his chest starts feeling lighter. Heaving a sigh, he leans towards her until their foreheads are touching. “You are incredible, Claire Nuñez.”

“We both are,” she chuckles, “Now, will you let me explain?”

His voice is small when he answers, “Okay.” 

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Erm … Saturday?”

“No - well, yes, but it’s not just a common Saturday!”

Jim lifts an eyebrow, “Oh?”

She grins and takes something out of her purse. He doesn’t get what she is doing until she has stuffed it into her mouth and gave him a wide smile to show a pair of white plastic fangs. “It’s Halloween, Jim! Tonight we can be whatever we want!”

Halloween? Oh. Oh. “Claire,” he says breathlessly, “you are a genius!” 

“I know,” she laughs as she takes off her sweater, revealing her dress - now he gets it, it's a costume! “Now, let me finish my makeup and then let’s go having some fun!” 

Minutes later, they are entering the house’s yard, Claire now wearing black lipstick and some face powder. She waves at someone in the crowd, most likely the people she spoke with this morning, but Jim is too distracted by the people to identify them. Everyone is wearing costumes, makeup, even masks and fake horns and fangs. His gut clenches when he notices that some people still stare at him, but theirs are not looks of fear, they are looks of - wonder and admiration? 

“Wow dude, cool makeup!” A girl comments walking past him, winking at him front under a black witch hat. “Where did you get those fangs?”

“I, uhm, online?” Jim mutters before Claire drags him away. The girl is soon lost in the crowd, but she is not the only one who compliments him for his “incredible costume” before they finally get to the dance floor. 

Claire spins around so that she can face him and takes both his hands. “Now, may I have this dance?” She asks, beaming at him. 

“Of course,” he smiles, “No Troll assassin should ruin it this time.”

“Don’t say that!” She laughs, “Now, dance with me.”

Admittedly, Jim didn't have much time to practice his dancing skills in the past few months, and at first, he feels a little awkward. What if he ends up drawing attention, what if someone realises his it's not a costume? But then, he focuses on her. Claire dances, eyes closed, a wide smile on her lips, so obviously having fun that his heart warms. Finally, he lets himself go and dances with her - and it’s liberating, like the burden he felt over his shoulders until now has finally disappeared. A laugh escapes him as he takes her hand in his to make her twirl. No one is looking at them - not for the reasons he feared at least, and for once, he realises, no one is going to attack them in the middle of their date. For once, he can be a normal boy enjoying a date with his girlfriend. He can be just Jim again, tonight. 

[moonsofmars-writes]

What means to be Hordak

Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra) Characters: Hordak (She-Ra), Horde Prime (She-Ra), Entrapta (mentioned), Catra (mentioned) Tags: Canon Compliant, Episode: s05e03 Corridors, Memory Loss, Angst, hurt hordak, Hurt No Comfort, Hordak thinks Entrapta is dead, Hordak-centric (She-Ra), Hordak remembers (briefly)

Summary: My take on what happened to Hordak after Catra called him by his name in episode 3 of season 5. Or, a (supposedly) nameless clone is forced to deal with a past he should have forgotten. It doesn’t go well.

Notes: this was supposed to be for day 3 of Entrapdak Month but I’m late! Anyway, enjoy some Hordak suffering - at least we know he is alright now!

Clones don’t seek loneliness nor need a place where to stop and just think. The only thing they should care and worry about is how to be useful to Horde Prime, the saviour of the universe. Yet this clone - a simple clone, like all the others, with his white and black garment and bright green eyes -, this common, nameless clone is hasting down the corridors of the Velvet Glove without orders or purpose, going … he doesn’t even know where he is going. He just knows that his mind is foaming like a stormy sea -  

Where did he see a stormy sea? He shouldn’t remember yet it’s there, right in front of his eyes, the waves breaking against the boat’s hull, and he is standing and watching as the fire burns everything, tinging the water red as blood.

Salineas.

How does he remember? Why now? He shouldn’t, those memories shouldn’t be there, they are forbiddenforbiddenforbidden-

The clone clenches his jaw and fists and speeds up, glancing behind his shoulder to make sure he is alone. This is not supposed to happen. He is nothing but a servant of the great Horde Prime, and yet …

She gave him a name. Little Sister - Catra, no, Force Captain Catra - gave him a name. A name that he would just want to forget - it is wrong to have a name - but that he can’t cast out of his mind. It’s now marked on his brain with fire and echos in his head like a distant call.

Hordak.

Read on AO3

He gasps and stumbles, reaching for the nearest wall to find support, then crawls into a near recess, head in his hands, nails scratching his skin. He is not Hordak. He is a clone, a faithful servant of Horde Prime - his brother, his God. He doesn’t want to be Hordak, because being Hordak means -

Hot blood spilling from his mouth and arms as he crawls out of a destroyed ship. A look is enough to crush his hope - it will never be able to fly again. In the meanwhile, his body screams,  worse than usual, worse than ever.

The clone swallows hard. His heart pumps fast and he feels like he is not getting enough air. Being Hordak means solitude and desperation. It means looking up at the sky and seeing no stars. It means to spend every hour working on a project destined to fail, again and again. He doesn’t want to remember that loneliness, he doesn’t want to remember what happened when he thought that loneliness could end.

“Who do you think let the Princesses in?” Little sister - Catra - howls a laugh, then looks at him with burning eyes, “Did you really think she was on our side?”

A tiny whine rises from the clone’s throat, and he has to cover his mouth with his hands and bite his palm not to cry. Being Hordak means betrayal, too.  

He knows enough, so he shuts his eyes close and tries to push them back, the memories that now are coming for him like an army of enemies. He doesn’t want to see them. Deep inside his chest, he knows there is worse. Worse than betrayal, worse than solitude, worse … no, no, no! He shakes his head, but the memories don’t stop coming and now he is breathing heavily, panic clenching his chest because he doesn’t want to remember -

Her.

Her name escapes his mind now, her figure a blur of purple, but her image fills his mind and so does her voice, her laugh, the little sounds she made when she was excited. The clone punches the wall in frustration and grits his teeth - he can’t remember her, he can’t, because she …

Sheshesheshesheshe  -

The clone struggle, and grabs his ears and claws his face, and tries so hard to stop his mind, to stop to think, to-

A green figure walking around him, a smirk on their face.

“Of course, as you know, she wasn’t there”,  they said.

“I figured out the truth”, they said.

“You and Catra sent Entrapta to Beast Island”.

NonononoNO  - he can’t remember this, he can’t remember her - Entraptaentraptaentrapta  - because she … she …

She is dead.

He left her to die.

…

He has collapsed on the floor. There he lies, too weak to stand up, too weak even to move. Tears fall from his eyes and stain his cheek. Clones are not supposed to cry, but he is not a simple clone, not anymore. Right now, he is Hordak again. And being Hordak means, more than anything, suffering.

He doesn’t know how long he stays like this before his brother finds him - not a long time, certainly, because Horde Prime sees all, and Horde Prime knows all. He can feel the other watching him for a few moments before he makes the effort to look up.

“Please,” he begs when he notices the green pupil in the other’s eyes, “please, take them away. Please …”

“Ah, little brother,” the clone - Prime - kneels beside him, shaking his head, “how much pain will you bring upon yourself before letting go of those memories?”

“I didn’t - I don’t want them,” he sobs, “please, please, I don’t want to remember anymore.”

Prime’s hands grab his face, his claws pressing against his skin enough to sting but not to cut. He examines him with his lips pressed in a line, then, he smiles, and his smile is gentle and compassionate. “I see that you search for freedom, little brother. And how could I deny help to the ones who ask for it? Go and get yourself presentable,” he orders, standing up, “then find our little sister and bring her to me. Soon, you will be reborn anew.”

In the blink of an eye, he has gone, and the clone - no, Hordak is left alone. His head aches and exhaustion weighs upon his body, yet he hurries to get up and follow his God’s orders. It will all be over soon. His pain, his desperation, all the agony that those memories bring to his heart. Soon, he will be free again, no different from any other clone. Soon, Hordak will be gone, and with him, the pain.

[moonsofmars-writes]

From the darkness below (life can still rise)

Fandom: 七つの大罪 - 鈴木央 | Nanatsu no Taizai | The Seven Deadly Sins - Suzuki Nakaba (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Diane/Fairy King Harlequin Characters: Fairy King Harlequin, Diane (Nanatsu no Taizai) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, One Shot, king feels guilty about lots of stuff, diane doesn't like that, king and diane dancing!, Dancing, Romantic Fluff, Zine, written for the SPECTRUM zine

Summary: King visits the ruins of the old Fairy King's Forest for the first time in years. The last time he went there he was a criminal and racked with guilt, and he couldn't do anything to save the forest. But this time, Diane is with him. And this changes everything.

Notes: here’s my piece for the Spectrum zine @spectrumnntzine​ ! I got the prompt “black” and wrote some Kiane. King suffer a little here but luckily, Diane is with him. 

Enjoy! 

When he lands, a cloud of ashes and dirt rises from the ground. King clenches his mouth as dust covers his shoes and pants with a thin dark layer, then starts to fall, slowly, to the earth. Around him, the ground is covered with black mud and rubble, all that’s left of what were branches and leaves. King shivers and forces himself to look around, letting his eyes wander over the desolation surrounding him. The burned forest hasn’t changed since last time he was here. Somehow, the trees still stand, raising their slender branches to the sky. The wood is dark and dry, and King feels like it would crumble into ashes under his fingers if he touched it. Below, the twisted roots sink into the arid ground. Dirt and cinder cover the earth, almost obscuring the spider-web of cracks stretched across it. In his mind, the resemblance is disturbingly fitting. After all, this wasteland is a place of death and misery - death of the vegetation that once ruled it, death of the wildlife that made its home here, death of the Fairies he failed to protect. The place is the rotting cadaver of his beloved forest. Nothing but a monument to his own failure.

“Harlequin?” Diane’s voice is as soft as the gentle touch of her hand on his cheek. He breathes in and looks down to meet her eyes, loosening his grip on her. He was holding her tighter than he realized.

“Sorry,” he mutters as he buries his face in her hair. It feels nice and smells like flowers and hills, and it gives him an excuse to look away from the grim landscape around them.

Her head shakes slightly as she answers, “I’m fine - are you alright?”

Continue on AO3

He swallows before glancing around again. The scrawny trees look back at him like a jury of the dead. There used to be colours in their bark - light and dark brown, red, grey - sometimes almost invisible under the green mass of moss. There used to be colour in the earth where their roots sink - the light green of the grass, the hundreds of shades of the flowers; and in the air too, where butterflies flaunted their vibrant wings and birds flew from branch to branch with a beat of their vivid feathers. Nothing is left. King imagines them melting together as the fire consumed the forest, leaving behind only this nauseating, burned black.

“Yes,” he answers slowly, looking away, “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Diane raises an eyebrow but says nothing as he lets her go. She eyes her surroundings, a hint of uneasiness in her violet gaze. Not for the first time, King wonders why she insisted on coming with him. He told her it wasn't necessary, that the sight was hardly worth the trip, but he knows better than pushing her when she makes up her mind. She can be very stubborn, he thinks, a faint smile curving his lips.

Truth be told, he doesn’t know why he wanted to come here. The new Fairy King's Forest is home now. He knew nothing waited for him here. Yet the desire to return had been growing in the back of his mind since the war ended until it was impossible to ignore. Maybe, he admits to himself as some he takes hesitant steps between the trees, he hoped something had changed. When he last came, he was still a traitor, wanted by the kingdom for a crime he didn't commit. Even to him, it feels like ages ago. It was easy to convince himself that it was worth visiting if just to check whether some semblance of life had returned. But on the ground he sees no sprout, and on the trees, no leaves. The entire place looks frozen in time, framed in the aftermath of its destruction. King clenches his jaw as he approaches a tree. After a moment, he finds the courage to touch its trunk. It doesn’t crumble under his fingers as he feared, but he can feel no life within its burned shell. It’s only a matter of time before it rots, leaving no trace of its existence but ashes scattered on the ground.

“We should leave." His voice sounds stiff and low, but he is grateful it's not trembling.

“Oh? But we just got here!” He hears Diane’s approach behind him, her soles crushing tiny pieces of burned wood. “Didn’t you want to take a look around?”

He shakes his head. “It’s useless. I … I was hoping that I would have been able to fix this, now that my wings have grown,” he admits, finally turning towards her. "But this place is ... well, look at it. It’s dead. If anything survived, if only a single bud sprouted, I could help it grow, but I can't bring what is dead back to life.” If he could, he thinks bitterly, he wouldn’t have lost so much, would he?

With his foot, he traces a line in the dirt. It stains his shoe with sludge, black like the charred wood and the burned bones he knows he will find if he looks well enough between the roots. Some are so tiny and thin and can’t come but from small animals. Others are bigger and King doesn’t even want to think who they belonged to.

"It was foolish of me to come here - and to bring you with me,” he mutters. “I should know by now that I can't erase my mistakes."

Diane gasps and King closes his mouth, pressing his lips together, though he knows he can’t take his words back. She hates it when he speaks like that about himself. He glances at her and tries to find something to say as he waits for her to berate him. But she doesn’t speak. She stands silently instead, her head tilted and teeth sinking in her bottom lip; she stares at him with thoughtful eyes, then, suddenly, she moves. King's brow furrows as he watches her walk around, eyes fixed on the ground. Near a tree, she stops and taps her foot on the soil, once, twice, making the dust lift and float. King hesitates, unsure how to ask what she is doing, and his eyebrows rise suddenly when she crouches and reaches for the earth with her hand.

"Diane! You shouldn't touch -"

"Of course you can't erase your mistakes," she says without looking up, "that's not how it works."

King sucks in air and closes his mouth, baffled. That’s … not how she usually answers him, when the argument comes up. The change doesn’t quite upset him, though he feels his stomach clench. She loves him, but if she starts to see how much a failure he was -

"But you can't deny," she continues, pressing her palm against the dark soil, "that you’re trying. You are doing what you can to be a good king, and you are Harlequin. I, our friends, your people, everyone thinks so. Yes, you made mistakes in the past, but you’re trying to make sure nothing like this will happen again. This is the only thing you can do, now.” When she turns towards him, a little smile has formed on her lips. “And anyway, you’re wrong. You can help this forest.”

King frowns. “No, I can’t."

Maybe she can't feel the sense of death that filters through the cracks on the trees' bark, but she is not blind. Her bond with the earth must be telling her there is no hope for this place.

"You know I can't revive these plants," he says through his teeth. "There is no life left inside them, I ... checked, the first time I came here." Those moments are etched in stone in his mind - fear and disbelief taking his breath away, his mind refusing to process what he saw, to acknowledge it was real. He looked for his sister first, then for the other Fairies, and when he couldn't find anyone he had examined the plants, stumbling from one to the other, desperately looking for something alive. "Nothing survived the purgatory fire," he finishes, bitterly.

Diane hums softly before beckoning him with her hand. "Come here,” she orders.

King frowns as he walks towards her, curious to see what caught her attention; as soon as he is close enough, she grabs his hand and pulls him to crouch at her side.

“You have to stop blaming yourself for everything that happened here,” she whispers. “It’s distracting you.”

“How can I?” His eyes drop to the dirt that now stains their shoes and calves. "I was the king of this forest and I left it unprotected." He smiles bitterly, shaking his head, "I can't even bring myself to regret it. I couldn't abandon Helbram and - and leaving led me to you," he adds softly. "No, I could never regret my decision. But when I remembered, when I realized that I abandoned my people for centuries, I chose to stay away. I thought it was for the best to surrender myself to the humans and take the blame for what Helbram did. The truth is that it was an easy option.” He swallows, feeling like there is dust in his throat. “One that didn't require me to face my people after I failed to protect them, after I left them, after what I let happen to Helbram -"

“Harlequin.” Diane’s grip on his hands becomes tighter. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, he meets her gaze. Her eyes burn like violet flames. “You know you had to stay. You told me.”

"If I came back -"

"You would have had to fight a war against humans. Many people would have died - more than the ones who lost their lives in the fire. You would have brought death here,” she gestures at the forest around them, “to your people, and to the humans who would have fought you. You saved lives when you decided not to come back.”

“But I should have been here to fight that Demon!”

“You couldn’t know about the Demon.” She squeezes his hands tighter, so abruptly that he has to hold back a groan. “You did what you had to stop what was threatening your home. You acted like a king.”

He wants to object, to insist he should have done better, he should have found a way to keep everyone safe and give the humans the justice they demanded. It takes just a moment to realise that he can’t. Diane is right. It’s not the first time he’s thought about this and reached the same conclusions, but this time they feel more … real. Not like simple excuses he is trying to make up to absolve his crimes.

“I … know”, he whispers, “but my sister died because of my decision. If Ban hadn't revived her ...”

“But he did. You can’t keep tormenting yourself over what was in the past, Harlequin. Elaine is alive and happy, and so are the Fairies and the Fairy King’s Forest - and that’s what you should focus on. What it is, not what it isn’t anymore.” She smiles at him. “You have to accept that you can’t change the past. But you can protect the present.”

King stares at her, the grip on his chest finally loosened a little. The guilt is still there, heavy and bitter. He knows it will never go truly away. Maybe it's alright. Maybe with time, it won’t feel like a burden to drag him down, but a push to do better. So that there won’t be more burned forests and lost lives.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, releasing a long breath as he lifts their joined hands to kiss her knuckles.

Diane beams before reaching for him; the touch of her lips on his own is quick as a beating of wings. She is gone before King can even think to kiss her back, then, still holding his hand, she murmurs, "Will you look into the earth, now?"

"The ... earth?" He blinks, tilting his head, cheeks still flushing for the kiss. "The - the roots have burned as well. I can't feel them, Diane. They’re dead too."

She shakes her head. "No, I mean - under here," she says, pressing his hand against the ground with her own. "You have to look deeper. Please, just," she adds when he looks at her with uncertainty, "just try."

Under the dust, the ground is hard and coarse and feels nothing like the soft meadow that once covered it all. King hesitates, but when he glances at Diane she nods encouragingly, a spark of excitement in her eyes. So, he closes his eyes and lets his magic flow. When he uses Disaster, he can feel them clearly - the plants, their connection with each other and the ground, whether they are going to survive or if they need to be taken down to allow other plants to grow. When he does it in the Fairy King’s Forest, the wood awakens with whispers and lights everywhere around him, the entire forest pulsing with life.

But here, King feels nothing. The world around him is silent and dark as a starless sky. Nothing seems to answer his call. Clenching his jaw, he keeps looking; Diane wouldn't be making him do it without a reason. She felt something, and now he just has to look long enough to -

It's there. His eyes snap open, but his mind stays focused on the tiny spark of life hidden in the depths of the earth. It’s a seed, King realises, and it’s not the only one. There are others around it, here under him, but also in the surroundings, under every scrawny tree. He looks up, eyes wide, and Diane grins at him.

"You saw them! I think the earth preserved them from the fire. There is still life in this forest.”

“But it's too deep," King breathes, "they are still alive, but they won't reach the surface and grow if we leave them there."

“Then we won’t. We are going to get them out.” Suddenly, Diane is holding both of his hands, looking at him with determination. "Dance with me."

It takes only a moment to understand what exactly she means. He can make the seeds into buds and trees, but with feet and feet of ground separating them from the soil, it will be easier if the earth opens for them.

"Of course," he says as they stand up together. Sliding one of her hands from his, she starts.

This is not by any means the first time they’ve danced together, nor the first time they have combined their powers like this. Yet King feels clumsy and stumbles on his feet as he follows Diane's smooth movements. She doesn't say anything and continues to dance, adapting her movements to his and giving him time to pick up the pace. His throat feels dry, his chest tight - he is nervous, more than any other time, maybe because he needs to make this right, to give this place another chance to live after he failed his duty to protect it.

He breathes in, out, trying to calm the pulse of his heart, and stops thinking about his next step, his focus shifting to the seeds. They are there, tiny and weak, and he keeps looking for them, finding more and more. His magic gently envelops them and then pours inside them, growing them slowly. Around them, the earth opens, like lungs too long contracted and finally given the chance to breathe. King is only partly aware of the way the ground trembles under his feet, but he can feel Diane's magic radiating from it as she delicately pulls the seeds outwards using her control over the earth. They are still dancing, their bodies finally moving in harmony, and when Diane pirouettes in his arms their hands touch oh so slightly - and under them, the seeds keep growing and rising until they are emerging from the ground like tiny green stars on the dark soil. King doesn't stop though, not yet, nourishing them with his magic, pushing them further - just a little more, till they will be strong enough.

And then they stop. King gasps for air, his eyes snapping open; Diane's face is inches from his, her body in his arms with their hands still connected. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes feverish, but she is grinning widely as she whispers, "We did it."

She is right. All around them, among the dead trees, saplings raise their thin branches to the sky and tiny bushes cover their roots. They are not many, yet, but it's a start. A laugh escapes his lips and he takes Diane's face into his hands before kissing her, again and again; he can feel her laugh too against his lips.

Before they leave, Diane carefully shapes the earth so that the wood will have enough water to grow while King finally lets the old trees decompose. They turn into dust under his power almost gratefully, as they were waiting for it. Part of him can’t help but mourn them, as he mourns the times he used to fly between their branches with his sister - and Helbram and Oslo and all the friends he lost. He will hold the memories dear in his heart, but finally, he thinks as the last tree crumbles into ashes, he can let this place go.

He turns back only once as he flies away with Diane in his arms. The wood looks so young, so different from the forest where he grew up, but that’s fine. It will grow into something new - something that will survive, he promises to himself. Even the earth looks healthier and softly embraces and supports the new trees, though its pitch-black colour remains. But ... maybe it’s the green of the new leaves, maybe it’s the fact that his heart is much lighter than when they arrived, but as he looks at it, King feels for the first time like the darkness of the dirt doesn’t mean death. It means life.

[moonsofmars-writes]

say the word and i'll be running back to find you

Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra) Characters: Entrapta (She-Ra), Hordak (She-Ra) Additional Tags: Hordak is just mentioned, but he is in entrapta's mind, Canon Compliant, set in season 5, entrapta is in SPACE!, (with Bow and Adora but they are just mentioned here), Light Angst, internal monologue mostly, Pining, My First Work in This Fandom, Entrapdak Month, Day 1, space, entrapta is going to find her spacebat and no one will stop her

Summary: Entrapta, Adora and Bow just left Etheria to go save Glimmer. While her companions rest, Entrapta gets the chance to admire the space ... and to think about the person she most wants to find.

Notes: this was written for Entrapdak Month, Day 1. It’s my first work for this fandom, I hope you’ll enjoy it! 

Space is awesome. Entrapta can’t stop watching through the ship's - no, through Darla’s windows, gloved hands pressed against the glass and a big, ecstatic smile curving her lips. She had the chance to observe the sky from Etheria since they have finally gotten out of Despondos, she has imagined dozens, hundreds of times how space could look like from up there, but this - this is even more than what she expected. Wherever she looks, darkness is studded with stars and planets - so many new places to see, so many different elements and civilizations, so many ways to do science. If she could, she would visit every single one of them - oh, the data she would collect, the information she could discover! Perhaps, when everything will be over, when Prime will no longer be a menace, she will travel - no, she will definitely travel, even if she had to build another spaceship herself.

First, though, she thinks breathing a sigh, she has to focus on their mission. The beautiful sight displaying in front of her is another reason why stopping Prime is fundamental - if they don’t, he will wipe everything away. Entrapta imagines the sky being emptied of its celestial bodies, the stars extinguishing one by one, until nothing is left but void. She shivers thinking about how it must look. Probably not much different from the sky she observed from Despondos. Hordak must have felt so alone, so far away from everything he knew, when he crashed on Etheria.

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Hordak.

Hordak.

In her pocket, the First Ones’ crystal feels suddenly heavier - though that’s scientifically impossible since destiny manipulation is not among its properties. Adora and Bow told her they would have rested, so she can reach for it without worrying that someone will interrupt her and ask questions. She wouldn’t know what to answer anyway. When her hand is finally around it, she holds it tight, until she can feel its sharp edges through her gloves. She has to find him. She will find him. And then … She bits her lips as a lock of her hair starts tapping Darla’s control panel. About what to do then, she is unsure. Despite what Prime is doing to Etheria, maybe Hordak is happy now that he reunited with him. Perhaps he won’t even want to talk to her.

Yet ...

Entrapta saw some of Prime’s other clones. She heard some of them speak and intercepted some of their communications - their technology is fascinating! But they are nothing like Hordak. They think of nothing but Prime, want nothing but to serve Prime, they don’t - they don’t have dreams or hope, not the way he did. They don’t have his same passion - well, if not, maybe, for Prime. Even their ears move differently than his; she used to watch them, back when they worked together on the portal, and soon realised that they moved according to his emotions - and then watching them became important because it helped her to figure out how he felt - she soon realised that she cared about it. Her guess is that his time on Etheria changed him, not completely but enough to make him develop a ... an identity, something that the other Clones don’t seem to have. Not yet.

Her stomach twitches and she holds the crystal with both hands. Was Hordak really welcomed among them? Is he … is he happy, now? She just wants to know. If he is … if he is fine and doesn’t want to see her ... - she swallows, eyes fixed on the letters carved into the crystal, the letters she wrote because she didn't dare to say them out loud - if it’s really like that, then she will leave him alone. It wouldn’t be the first time a - a friend leaves her. But first, she needs to know he is alright. Besides, she needs to tell him that she didn’t betray him.

When Scorpia informed her about what Catra told him to explain her disappearance, part of her found it almost funny. Betray him? To let the princesses into the Fright Zone and leave him and their experiments and the only place where she had finally felt normal? Nonsense! But Hordak didn’t know how much their work meant to her, how much he meant to her. She never told him - well, not out loud. And Catra is good at convincing people, way better than Entrapta will ever be and Scorpia said that Hordak believed her, that he spent days inside his Sanctum doing nothing but waiting, that he forbade the force captains to even speak her name.

("But ... I don't understand," Entrapta said with a small voice, her mask covering her face. "He opened the portal, he got what he always wanted - he should have been happy. Why wasn't he happy?"

Scorpia looked at her with wide eyes. "Entrapta, he thought you betrayed him. He ... err." Her pincers clacked as she tilted her head. "Not everyone wanted to see it, but he was hurting. He really believed you left him for the Princesses and before Catra convinced him, he ... it didn't seem like he cared about much else anymore.")

Entrapta's hair now lays still on the control panel. He was hurt, and perhaps, he still is. Entrapta can accept it if Hordak doesn’t want to be friends with her anymore, she is used to it - or she should be, by now. Yet, she can’t let him keep thinking she did this to him. He doesn’t deserve that, and she knows that his hate would hurt her more than any rejection.

Looking up, she loses herself again in the depth of space, caressing the cold glass with the tips of her fingers. This is why she is going to find Hordak. It doesn’t matter if she has to search the whole universe, to check every single clone. Most likely, he doesn’t feel for her what she feels for him, and maybe he really just used her to build the portal, but … he never abandoned her, not on purpose. Back on Beast Island, during the last weeks she spent there, when she had given up hope that anyone would have come for her, she thought he had left her like everyone else. Now, she knows that it’s not true. There is no way to know what he would have done if he had known she was there, but Entrapta wants to believe that things would have been different - that he would have come for her, because they were lab partners, because they were friends.

And she will never, never leave her friend behind.

[moonsofmars-writes]

and in the dark i can hear your heartbeat

Fandom: Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro, Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez Characters: Claire Nuñez, Jim Lake Jr. (Tales of Arcadia), Blinkous "Blinky" Galadrigal, Trolls (Tales of Arcadia) Additional Tags: Fluff, Slice of Life, Post-Season 3 (Trollhunters), Canon Compliant, the trolls are going to new jersey, oh my that's a long trip, Poor Claire, claire is tired, Jim is a good boyfriend, jlaire, jim carries claire, because I say so, they are cute, rated T for kissing, blinky is there too, He is trying

Summary: The Trolls are travelling to New Jersey and everything would be great, if only it wasn't so damn exhausting. Or, Claire is tired but will not admit it and Jim tries his best to be helpful.

It turned out that walking for hours every night was exhausting. Claire huffed but kept going, careful not to stumble on a rock or a root; the moon was almost full in the sky but barely filtered between the branches of the dense trees, leaving her and her companions in a thick, cold darkness. They had been walking for a week by now, travelling from dusk till dawn and camping during the day, always making sure to keep away from inhabited areas. Her Trollhunter training had helped her to keep going until now, but she wasn't used to hiking this long.

At her side, Blinky walked carelessly, showing no sign of tiredness. He kept his eyes fixed on the map he was holding, brows furrowed. She considered asking him when he planned to stop, but she quickly discarded the thought. To stop they first had to find a place where the Trolls could camp comfortably, protected by the daylight. That was the reason why Jim had left the group, an half an hour before, to explore the wood that extended in front of them. Besides, Claire didn't want Blinky to worry about her. She was perfectly able to walk another few miles, despite the aching of her legs. Well, or so she hoped. Sighing, she looked down. Her first days had gone better, but then her feet had started to hurt and now her leg muscles contracted painfully every time she took a step. She had even taken out the armour Merlin had made for her - she loved it, really, but it wasn’t made for long trips.

Luckily, her caravan didn’t move too fast. She soon found out that Trolls didn’t tire easily and could keep walking for hours without much effort, but they were slow and there was always someone who got lost or stayed behind, forcing the whole group to slow down or even stop to find them. Out of curiosity, she glanced behind her back, but the thick mass of trees prevented her from seeing much of the long column of trolls. Hopefully they were learning to stick together.

"I found a place!" 

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Claire jerked and almost stumbled as she turned around, just in time to see Jim emerging from the wood. She hadn't heard him approaching - how was he getting so good at sneaking up? He smiled at her before turning towards Blinky, "The branches are tight, so the sun shouldn't be a problem, and I found water!" He moved closer and bent over Blinky's map, "It should be ... ah, here," he said, finger brushing against the paper. "A little farther, keeping on the right. We will surely be there before dawn."

"How long will it take?" Claire asked, moving forward to reach for his hand and lace their fingers.  

He immediately squeezed her hand back. "At this pace, a little less than an hour." She nodded, holding back a sigh. Her calves would have hated her.

“That will do,” Blinky said, folding the map. His eyes lingered for a moment on the couple and their joined hands, a faint smile curving his lips. “I will inform the rest of the group while you start leading them,” he said, turning around, “I have no intention to waste other time looking for lost fools! Not again!”

Jim chuckled, “Good luck with that.”

“You know you are helping me when it happens!” Binky’s voice faded in the night as he disappeared behind the first group of Trolls. Jim and Claire exchanged a look and giggled, then walked away, still holding hands.

“I guess we are going to spend some quality time chasing gnomes later,” Jim said.

Claire let out an exaggeratedly heavy sigh, “Please, not again! I didn’t bring with me my entire wardrobe, I can’t get another shirt ripped because one of them has decided to hide among brambles. I'm sure he did it on purpose!”

“You could stop by the next town, you know,” Jim said softly, “I could get you close enough before the sunrise and come back for you at dusk. You could buy new clothes, have a proper meal, sleep in a real bed -”

“Hey, I’m perfectly fine sleeping with you guys! And I’m not that sick of camping food yet. Besides, I don’t want to leave you alone during daylight hours.”

“We can handle ourselves for a day,” he made her a confident smile, “no one is going to move anyway. I … I am very happy that you came with me - with us,” he added, his eyes full of affection and warmth, “and I don’t want this to feel like a torture for you.”

“That’s not possible! I -”

“Just think about this, okay? Soon or later you’ll have to get supplies anyway.”

He had a point. Claire nodded, murmuring a small “okay” and squeezing his hand a little tighter. They kept walking in comfortable silence, broken only by the creakings and rustles of the forest and by the distant sound of the Trolls moving and chattering behind them. They must have outdistanced them, and it wasn’t hard to see why: Jim’s gait was fast. Claire found herself struggling to breathe regularly and felt her tired muscles contracting painfully; she wouldn’t have been able to keep up that peace for a long time. She frowned, eyes pointed on the ground, and focused only on taking a step after another, and then again, one step after the other, and again, and -

And then Jim was suddenly slowing down and she could breathe a sigh of relief - at least until he asked, voice filled with concern, “Are you alright, Claire?” When she turned, he was bending over her, eyes wide, “Do you want to take a break?”

“No! Well,” she added, “maybe could you slow down a little? We have left everyone behind.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows rose when he glanced back and noticed that the wood was empty. He immediately stopped and gave her an embarrassed smile, rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“It’s alright,” she panted, taking advantage of the break to stretch her legs a little, “We’ll just wait for them, okay?”

“Sure, but what about you? You are tired, aren’t you?”

She bit her lip, looking down. “Just a little,” she admitted, “but I’ll be fine. We are stopping soon anyway.”

He frowned, mouth clenched. “I’m sorry,” he whispered then, “I should have realised it sooner, Since I became … ah, this,” he vaguely gestured at his body, “I don’t get tired as I did before. But you are human and this is not a simple hike in the woods around Arcadia. I should have thought about it. I’m sorry, Claire. You shouldn’t have to -”

“Jim.” She put a hand on his arm and smiled at him when their eyes met. “It’s alright. You had other things to think about. Leading the Trolls it’s been exhausting! Besides, it’s not that bad. Give me another few days, I’ll get used to it!” Hopefully, she added in her mind. New Jersey wasn’t exactly around the corner.

Jim sighed. “I just wish I could make it easier for you! Maybe I could -” He suddenly fell silent and his brows knitted, as he was thinking about something.

“You don’t have to do anything, I don’t want to slow us down even more, or we’ll take forever," she reassured him.

“You are right but, uhm, I thought I,” he cleared his throat, looking away, “I could carry you.”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him. He avoided her gaze, and even though she couldn’t see it clearly, she would have sworn that his cheeks had taken a slightly darker colour. She couldn’t help but grin - he was taller and well, bluer, but he was still Jim. Then her mind registered what he had said. “Wait, what?”

“It wouldn’t be a problem,” he muttered, “I’m not tired at all and I got stronger - I mean, you know I did, I just - I wouldn’t mind carrying you. If you want to.”

“There is no need!” She could literally feel a blush creeping into her cheeks. “I  can  walk, for another little while.” Her legs didn’t really agree about that, but she knew she would have made it. She didn’t have any other option - or had she?

Jim finally looked at her. “Are you sure?” He asked, tilting her head.

Claire took a moment to seriously ponder his proposal. Would have it been that bad? She was tired and he was offering and she trusted him. He was her boyfriend! And he was without a doubt strong enough to carry her. “We can try for a while if you are really okay with it,” she carefully answered. “But if you  start to get tired, I’m walking!”

“I won’t!” He hurried to nod.

A chuckle escaped her lips, “Okay then, Superman! How do you want to do this - Ah!” In the blink of an eye, Jim’s arms were around her and she was lifted from the ground. She yelped and instinctively put her arms around his neck, seeking stability, but there was no need to. His arms felt firm and strong and she simply knew he wouldn’t have let her fall.

“See? No effort!” He said cheerfully, a spark of pride in his eyes.

This time, Claire laughed. “Great job, Trollhunter!” She patted his armour with her palm and took some moments to make herself comfortable in his arms. When she was finally at ease, she glanced over his shoulder and noticed that the other Trolls were finally getting closer. “I suppose we can leave now.”

He turned briefly to check the group and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Claire wasn't used to being carried like that, and at first, it felt - well, new. It didn’t take her long, though, to get used to the pace of his walking and the solid feeling of his arms supporting her body. Resting her head against his chest, she decided that this was nice, actually. And admittedly way more comfortable than using her legs.

During the rest of the trip, they quietly chatted about the people they left behind. Claire showed him some pictures of Enrique she had received from her parents - "I already miss him," she admitted, "he will have grown up so much when we'll come back!" - and then it was his turn to show her all the baby pictures his mother sent him.

"I can't believe your mother and Mr Strickler are really going to raise them all."

"I can't either, but they trying to make it work. Mom texted me to ask if I knew how what exactly she should put in baby food. I've never even tried to make baby food!"

"I'm sure you'd made something awesome if you tried," she laughed, "you are the best chef in Arcadia!"

"You really think so?" He hummed happily before adding with a smirk, "Only in Arcadia?"

She snorted. "Don't get too cocky! My guacamole is still unequalled."

"I've never doubted that!"

Like this, time passed faster. Claire didn’t even notice that Blinky had joined them until the conversation died and she checked again if the other Trolls were still in sight. He nodded at her with a smile and she waved at him before resting her head against Jim’s chest, listening to the comforting thud of his beating heart. This wasn't just nice, it was comfortable, so comfortable that her mind started to cloud and her eyes to close against her will. She tried to keep them open, to keep herself awake tracing senseless patterns on the plates of his armour. With her finger, she followed the edges of his amulet with her finger, again and again, until she knew it by heart and the metal was warm from her touch. She didn't want to fall asleep, not yet. They would have needed help later and she was the only one among them who could walk in sunlight now. So, she definitely had to stay awake. She had to.

She was failing miserably.

When she was about to doze off, her eyes closed and her hands resting on her belly, Jim finally halted. "We are here," he said quietly, probably not to disturb her. Claire heard him anyway and lifted her head, blinking. The wood around her didn't look much different than before, though, she realised looking around, it was a little darker. That would have been helpful at sunrise. “There’s a pool over there,” Jim continued pointing somewhere on their left, “and there should be enough space between the trees for us to sleep.”

Blinky nodded, then let out a sigh, “Now, let’s hope we will be able to camp quickly for once.” Raising his arms he turned around to approach the other Troll. “We have arrived! Now, please, just do as I say ...”

“We should probably help,” Claire said, unable to hold back a yawn. Not that she really wanted to get down, but she knew for sure that Blinky needed all the help he could get.

"Are you sure?" Jim asked, gently putting her down when she moved and supporting her until she stood. "You can go to sleep. I am not tired, I can take care of them alone this time."

"No, it's okay." She stretched and smiled at him, "I feel definitely better now that I got some rest! We will finish faster together."

"Okay, you are right. If you feel like, you can take care of who's already here. I will check the rest of the group to make sure that no one was left behind. What do you think?"

She nodded. "Good plan! But first, let me thank you."

“There is no need to -” he started, shaking his head, but before he could finish she reached for his shoulder with both her hands and dragged him down, making him yelp in surprise. Even like this, she still had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him.  

They hadn’t got many chances to kiss since his transformation. His lips still felt a bit different under hers, not quite hard but somehow solid and cool. She traced the profile of his temple and buried her fingers in his hair until she could scratch the base of his horn. Suddenly he pulled her closer and enveloped her with his arms, lifting her little to reach her better. She smiled against his lip, brushing his cheek with her hand. Yes, she was definitely getting used to this.

When they parted, his cheeks were definitely bluer. He beamed at her, scratching her back with his fingers, “Okay, I like this kind of thank you."

“You better!" She grinned, patting playfully his arm, "Now we should go, they will never set this camp without us.”

He chuckled, “I’ll see you later then! Good luck.” He kissed her forehead before disappearing in the wood, quick as a wild cat. Claire stood for a few seconds, staring at the trees, before heading for the rest of the group. Leg pain or not, she thought, this trip was totally worth it.

[moonsofmars-writes]

One Thousands Summers

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 七つの大罪 - 鈴木央 | Nanatsu no Taizai | The Seven Deadly Sins - Suzuki Nakaba (Anime & Manga) Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Diane & Fairy King Harlequin, Diane/Fairy King Harlequin (pre-relationship) Characters: Fairy King Harlequin, Diane (Nanatsu no Taizai), Other(s)

Summary: After being condemned for his sin, King is serving his sentence in prison. Time passes slowly and the only thing he can do as he waits to be free is losing himself in his memories. When summer comes to visit him once again, all he can remember is Diane.

Notes: Finally posting my piece for Nanatsu no Taizine: Vol II @nntzine! I’m glad I could take part in it! I hope you enjoy my piece.

Days are all the same in his cell. The light that enters from the tiny window, nothing more than a crevice just under the ceiling, is enough to let him know when the sun is up and when the darkness falls, yet it’s easy to lose count, to sleep through the days and the weeks hoping that this will make them pass faster. But even so, Harlequin always knows when summer comes.

It’s the perfume, rich and inebriating, that first infiltrates through the cracks and the bars, filling the room and waking him up from his drowsiness. The scent embraces him like a warm grip and tells him of the blossoming rhododendrons and the delicate lilacs and the too many wildflowers blooming in the fields around the prison. Then it comes the heat and the moisture, the intense sunlight almost hurting his eyes. The sounds of summer are different too, from the calls of the migrating birds to the steps and voices of the peasants getting ready for the harvesting of the fields. Only then, when his every sense is enveloped in the feeling of summer, Harlequin allows himself to acknowledge that another year of his sentence has passed. He lost count of the days long ago, but he can’t stop counting the summers. One, two, ten, and then twenty and fifty and soon they’ll be one hundred - and the day he will be free comes closer, slowly but steadily.

Read on AO3

It’s also a sign that spring has passed, and there is always something relieving about it. He loves spring, he always did, since the time he could spend it surrounded by the trees and blossoming flowers of his native land. Yet, this season is hard for him, even harder than the windy autumn or the cold, lonely winter. Spring is the Fairy King's Forest, the Fairies flying between the vines and laughing and asking him to join them, for once. Spring is Elaine and her honey eyes - they looked so hurt and shone with tears when she begged him not to leave her, and yet he did. Spring is Helbram and his carefree laugh - and his desperate cry as tears ran down his cheeks until blood suffocated his voice. Their ghosts hunt him with the smell of bluebells and primroses, insinuating in his thoughts and dreams, a constant reminder of how he failed them, of how he is still failing them, even though he is doing everything he can to atone for his sins.

Summer is different. Summer is the light entering their cave and waking them up in the morning, is the glimmer of the stream they went to get water. It’s the bright days spent in the meadows, flying in the clear air as she ran after him, laughing and trying to catch him. It’s the shimmer in her eyes and her beaming smile. Summer is her. Diane. Harlequin still can’t understand why this is the season that reminds him of her the most, as they spent together entire centuries, but there is no doubt that when summer comes, it’s easier to lose himself in the memories of her, to forget, if only for just some time, about the people who are hopelessly waiting for him. Strangely enough, thinking about Diane doesn't quite hurt. He broke the promise he made her and he lost her and he knows he could never see her again, and yet his heart aches just a bit with bitterness and longing. He still misses her like air, but that’s alright because he knows that it was the only way. She is okay without him, she has to be. Without her memories of him, she has nothing that could burden her young shoulders, nothing she will want to wait for, maybe in vain.

Harlequin remembers, though. And when summer comes again to visit him, he can take a sigh of relief and close his eyes and dream.

He dreams about the days they used to spend just laying near the riverside, enjoying the warm sun of the afternoon and the softness of the green grass, the singing of the birds and the gurgling of the water. Sometimes, they both fell asleep and woke up only when the dark started to fall upon them like a cool blanket. Sometimes, though, she was the one who woke him up, with a question to ask or something to show him.

"Harlequin! Look what I found!" His eyes snap open at the sound of Diane's excited voice, his mind still a bit addled and lost in a confused dream. He sits up and blinks as he looks up at her and at the green bush she holds in her hands, and it takes him a moment to notice the little red berries between the leaves. "What are they, Harlequin? Can we eat them?"

“Raspberries,” he declares after taking flight to get a better look, “and they are ripe enough to eat them! They are good!” She beams at him and nods, but when she tries to take the berries between her thumb and index, the tiny fruits explode, leaving a red stain on her fingers and a frown on her face. “Let me,” Harlequin says, furrowing his brows as he uses his magic to pick all the fruits he finds.

One by one, they float towards Diane’s open palm and here they set down, forming a little pile. She watches them amazed as they move in the air, then, hesitantly, she brings her hand to her mouth. “Oh,” she says, after tasting some of them, eyes widening, “they are sweet!”

Then she finishes the ones on her hand and smiles at him, and her lips and teeth are red as her palm. The utter and simple happiness in her eyes makes him giggle and feel pleasingly warm as he puts a raspberry in his mouth. It's sweet, just a bit sour and it's perfect as her joyful smile and amused laugh when the juice stains his hands and lips as well.

Then a door slams and when Harlequin opens his eyes, there is no sun and there is no river and there is no Diane. Only the stone of his cell's walls and a bowl of dry bread and rotting vegetables in front of the wooden door that wasn't there before. That's all the food he will get for the day and as usual, he forces himself to eat it - yet, if he doesn't look at it he can still feel the full taste of the raspberries on his tongue.

It was summer, Harlequin remembers as he sits again against the wall, that one time they found a fawn stuck in a ravine. Diane lifted it in her hand to take it out as he held and calmed it, and her eyes shined with joy when he told her how grateful it was. It was still summer when in their wandering they discovered a small lake not far from the river, the water deep enough just to get to Diane’s calves, and her laugh seems to echo in the cell as it did in that clearing, centuries ago.

And it was summer the night of the falling stars. His stifling cell is nothing like the vast fields surrounding their cave and the stone floor can’t be compared to the softness of the grass, but Harlequin lies down anyway and when he closes his eyes, he can see the infinity of the starry sky above him and smell the earth and the flowers in bloom. That night they lingered outside longer than usual, and Diane was lying next to him, excitedly pointing out the constellations she identified.

He blinks, and suddenly there is a flash in the sky, slicing the cloak of darkness like a blade. “Look over there!” Diane exclaims and raises her arm, “a falling star! Oh - look!” There is another, Harlequin notices, and he holds his breath as follows its path in the air. More stars follow and they watch in awe as the sky seems to fall apart. When he glances at her, maybe after a few minutes, her mouth is open and her eyes wide, so close that he can see the lights shine on her irises. “Why do they fall?” She suddenly asks, her voice filled with wonder.

Harlequin knows she probably doesn’t expect him to know the answer, yet he takes some moments to think about it before shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he whispers back, “maybe it just happens, like when ripe fruits fall from a tree.”

Diane hums, her gaze still on the sky. “Do you think,” she murmurs, and this time her voice is so low that he can barely hear her, “they feel lonely?”

“Why should they?”

She bites her lip, taking her time before answering, “They are falling away from the sky and the other stars and leaving everything behind. It seems lonely.”

Harlequin knows she is not just talking about the stars. She told him about the day she left home and how she spent years living alone before meeting him. The thought fills his chest with anguish and bitterness but he casts them away as he rises, flying closer to her. “Maybe they are falling alone,” he says, “and leaving everything they know, but wherever they are going, look at how many stars are in the sky!” He gestures at it but doesn’t look away from her, meeting her curious gaze when she glances at him. “Wherever they are going, they will not be alone. They will find a new place and new stars and a new home, just like - like me. When you found me, I had nothing and was nothing, but you saved me. You gave me a place I can call home. I still don’t know what happened to me, but falling led me to you and I - I am grateful it did.”

Harlequin breathes in, warmth creeping over his cheeks, and only then it hits him, how true his words are. How the fear and anguish of not having a past has slowly lessened as the days went and his affection for the young Giant girl has grown instead, like mulberry trees. It’s only when Diane turns her head to look at him that he notices a glimmer of tears in her eyes, and his stomach clenches as he prepares to apologize - he would have never wanted her to cry. But she smiles a wide, joyful smile. “Thank you,” she whispers, “thank you for staying with me. You are my home too, Harlequin.”

He feels like a lump in his throat that doesn’t let any other word out, so he simply nods and smiles back even though he is the one who should thank her, for saving his life and healing his wounds and giving him a place to stay. For her kindness and selflessness, and for the joy and innocence that pervade everything she does. For making him know love, because he loves her and it’s love that makes him feel warm and fills his chest with joy every moment they spend together. It’s not like he didn’t know before, yet it’s only now, as he thinks about how he could tell her, that he fully realises the enormity of his feelings. And suddenly, when she smiles and reaches for him with her finger and he holds its tip, he realizes that his love will not fade nor wither. He loves her now, and he will until he dies. He would want to tell her, but the silence around them is too peaceful and emotional to break it, and so no word leaves his mouth. They stay like this for hours, her finger in his hands, as they watch more stars falling.

When Harlequin opens his eyes he is in his cell again and tears shine on his lashes. He lied to her, that night, and that’s what hurts the most. He loved her and still loves her with all his soul, and yet he lied and deceived her. It’s in moments like this that he is almost happy she can’t remember about him. Yet, he thinks, eyes half open and fixed on the stone ceiling, yet he knows that as soon as he’ll have the chance, he will look for her. Before he has to serve his sentence, and return to the Fairy King’s Forest, to Elaine, and apologize with her for making her wait. But then, when he’ll be sure that everything is alright, he will fly towards the Giants’ lands and he will find her. Diane will not remember him, but he can take it as long as she is happy. As long as he can see her smile again, at least one more time, and, if she’ll let him, keep his promise.

One day, he thinks as his mind slips again into memories that now are only his. One day, when these one thousand lonely summers will be over, he will see her again.

[moonsofmars-writes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro, Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Jim Lake Jr. (Tales of Arcadia) & Everyone, implied Jim Lake Jr/Claire Nuñez Characters: Jim Lake Jr. (Tales of Arcadia) Tags: Barbare Lake (mentioned), Claire Nuñez, Toby Domzalski (mentioned), other characters are mentioned too, Episode: s03e10 A House Divided, or what happened after Jim got into that bathtub, Angst, Pain, Jim suffers here, but we all know how things went so it’s okay, i guess, What Have I Done, My First Work in This Fandom, I’m Bad At Tagging

Summary: Settled after the end of season 3 episode 10, A House Divided. My take on what happened to Jim after he submerged himself in Merlin’s potion, his thoughts, his transformation and how it felt.

Notes: That’s my first work in this fandom and of course it had to be some introspective angst… But I loved this part too much, I had to. Enjoy!

[moonsofmars-writes]

So, I finally decided to post my Monderi writing on AO3! All of these have already been posted here on Tumblr so I won’t post them here again, but if you are interested, here’s the link!

Summary:  A collection of Monderi one-shots I wrote based on tumblr requests, so each chapter is a stand-alone scene! They are all modern AUs (for now) and mostly fluff.

[moonsofmars-writes]

Hi I love the way you write and I love the fact that you also like Monderi 😍. Would you do a modern AU with them? Maybe Deriere gets hurt, faint, accident, Idk and Monspeet gets really worried about her and help her in any way? Idk( I am lack of ideas) maybe he accompanies her to the hospital ? Holds her hand all the way...

Hello Anon! Thank you, I’m glad you liked my writing! 

I know it took me months to write this down and I know that it’s probably not what you wanted but it’s what I got. I hope you’ll like it! 

Derieri should have seen it coming. Her vision getting blurred, her limbs suddenly feeling so incredibly weak, her head spinning. Even the sounds around her became distant as she was suddenly moving underwater. That was the moment she should have stopped. Instead, she kept hitting her punching bag, one, two, three more times, until she had to take a step back and then - 

Then Monspeet was looking at her from above with furrowed brows, lips pressed in a worried line. When he met her eyes he opened his mouth, but it took her another couple of seconds to realise that he was calling her name. That was also when she realised that she was laying on the gym’s floor with her feet up - wait, why was Drole keeping her feet up like that? 

“Derieri?” 

Looking again at Monspeet, she tried to sit down. “What -” She muttered, “why am I -”

“Slow down,” he said softly before grabbing her shoulders to push her down. “You fainted while training. It’s better if you lie here a little longer.”

Oh. Derieri blinked and clenched her jaw. She fainted. She fainted - during a simple training, in the middle of the gym and in front of everyone. She snorted and kicked to free her feet, making Drole step back with a grunt of surprise. “I’m fine,” she said sitting down. When Monspeet raised a brow, she glared at him. “I can get up.”

“Already?” A voice asked from her side. 

“Yes,” she snarled, turning around to meet Melascula’s amused eyes. 

She grinned at her as she approached, a plastic cup in her hand. “Well, your boyfriend asked me to get you some sugar water, and since I did it,” she bent down, handing her the cup, “you better drink it.” 

Derieri narrowed her eyes and moved away, refusing to take it. Melascula rolled her eyes and gave the cup to Monspeet, who took it with a nod, thanking her. “You should take more care of yourself, Deri, the match is getting closer.”

As if she didn’t know. Derieri grit her teeth, pushing her hands against the ground as she prepared to stand up. Monspeet’s grip on her shoulder stopped her, and she glared at him but as usual, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he offered her the cup. She looked away, snorting, “I don’t need it.”

“Maybe you don’t, but it won’t hurt.” 

He didn’t retire his hand. Eventually, Derieri scoffed and grabbed it before swallowing it all. “Happy now?”

Monspeet hummed, taking the cup back. They sat in silence for a moment, then she snorted and started to get up. Once again, Monspeet’s hand - gentle but firm on her shoulder - stopped her. “You should take it easy.”

“I need to train,” she hissed back, hitting his hand with hers. 

“You have been training non-stop for weeks, you barely even rest. And you just fainted.” Monspeet tilted his head, watching her with his deep dark eyes. “Do you really think this is a good idea?”

Of course, she didn’t. Derieri had played sports since she was a kid and she had practised kickboxing for years. She knew when her body needed rest - and she knew that she had been pushing her limits in the past days. “I’ll rest after the match.” She said but didn’t make any new attempt to stand up.

Monspeet heaved a sigh and brushed her shoulder with his thumb. “I know this match is important for you -”

“It’s the final. I need to win.”

“ … and you will, Derieri, I’m sure of it. But you need to rest. What will you do if you start feeling sick on the ring?”

Derieri opened her mouth, but she found herself unable to answer. She looked away then, jaw clenched. “I’m not an idiot. It’s not going to happen.”

“I know you are not, and that’s exactly why you have to take a break now. I know you won’t stop training, I wouldn’t ask you to do so, but you can’t keep going like this. Just consider taking some hours off. You need to be rested for the big day.”

“Hmph.” Derieri kept her eyes on the floor. Monspeet wasn’t wrong. That match was important, and she couldn’t let herself ruin her chances. Some hours off, he said? She could think about it, later. 

This time he didn’t try to stop her when she got up. She glanced at him from above and tilted her head. “Let’s go get lunch?” 

“Of course,” Monspeet smiled at her as he got up and took her hand. Derieri squeezed it, then, ignoring Melascula's jeering - "Already going, lovebirds?" -, she dragged him out of the gym.

[moonsofmars-writes]

Hello, may I ask for some Monderi writing in a Highschool AU? If it's not bothering you and if you have the time of course! I really love your work so much so please keep going 😁

Hello and thank you for the ask! I’m really happy you like my work :)

I’m not sure this is what you wanted but I got inspired! I hope you like it, and sorry for taking a while. I’m not really accepting writing requests at the moment because I don’t have much time, but well, this was fun! 

“Detention?!” Zeldris’ eyes darted from Monspeet to Derieri as he frowned, “Again?” 

Monspeet shrugged - there wasn’t much he could say. Next to him, he heard Derieri snort. “They deserved it,” she muttered emotionlessly. 

Monspeet nodded, “They were quite rude, yes.”

“And so you hit them? In the middle of the cafeteria?” Zeldris said, his voice reduced to a low growl. “What the hell were you - No.” He halted, mouth clenched, and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was still tense but controlled. “You know what? I am not surprised. What I want to know is why he got detention too.”

“Ask him. I was doing just fine.”

Monspeet sighed. Derieri’s gaze burnt like fire on his skin, but he kept his eyes on Zeldris as he quietly explained, “I couldn’t let her fight them all alone. I know you could have handled it,” he continued, turning towards her, “I do. I just wanted to help.”

She raised an eyebrow and seemed to consider his words, as if she didn’t know how, exactly, to answer. 

“And so, you got detention.” Zeldris’ flat voice broke the silence. “Should I remind you that our assignment is due to Friday? I am not going to do your part for you and I won’t get a low grade just because you decided to play the gentleman and punch some guy.”

Despite being only five feet tall, Monspeet mused, Zeldris could look quite intimidating when furious. Maybe it was his sharp features, or maybe, the intensity of his eyes. They seemed to burn like hot coals. Monspeet nodded slowly, holding the small man’s look. “I know. I’ll send you my piece tomorrow.”

“You better to that,” Zeldris scowled. He glared at Derieri one last time then turned around and left, his fast steps echoing in the hallway. For a moment, that was the only sound breaking the silence. 

“You should stop.” Derieri suddenly said as she watched Zeldris walk away. Monspeet kept his eyes fixed on the floor. He had been her friend long enough to understand her short and sometimes cryptic sentences.

“I should stop to get in trouble because of you. That’s what you mean.” It wasn’t a question. He turned towards her just in time to see her little nod. “Derieri …” He sighed, shaking his head, “I am not getting in trouble because of you. I’m getting in trouble because there are more important things for me than good behaviour. Besides,” he added with a little smirk, “I got to be stuck with you after school. I don’t see it as a punishment.”

Derieri stared at him for a long moment before rolling her eyes. With a snort, she walked away, moving rapidly through the corridor. She stopped only once, after a few seconds, to ask, “So?” He knew what she really meant was, Are you coming?

Monspeet didn’t say a word as he reached her so that they could walk side by side. Even though he knew he would have had to spend the night working on that stupid assignment, he couldn’t help but smile. Before Derieri turned away to leave, he was sure he had seen a soft blush on her cheeks. 

[moonsofmars-writes]

Preview of my piece for the @spectrumnntzine !

I’m honoured I could take part in this project, it was great to work with so many talented artists and writers! Please, check it out if you can! 

Pre-orders will be available on August 31ts

[moonsofmars-writes]

Chapter 10 - Clash 

It took way longer than expected, but chapter 10 is out! Enjoy! 

Read it on AO3

Chapter Summary: Finally, Diane and King are reunited, but things don’t go as expected. Something is very wrong with the Fairy King, but will his friends be able to help?

Story Summary: There are things Fairies don’t talk about, things that are better left forgotten. There is no good in remembering those dark times, and there is no need since none of that can happen again. Until one day, the Fairy King finds something that was supposed to be destroyed millennia before, and what he discovers changes him in a way no one could have expected.

[moonsofmars-writes]

Hi I love your writting and also the fact that you like Monderi, could you please do a Modern AU about them pls? Waking up together or maybe at the couch hugging or warever it comes to your mind. I need them to be happy😭

Hello Anon! Thank you for the ask. I know I’m really really late, and I’m sorry about that, I’ve been a bit busy. But here I am! This is pretty short and just so fluff, but I hope you’ll appreciate it! 

Monspeet’s neck ached when he woke up, and at first, the only thing he knew was that he was not in his bed. He blinked and looked around, frowning when he realised that he was in the living room, sitting on the couch - not exactly the best position to fall asleep. It wasn’t hard to remember why he was there though, especially not since the reason was currently laying on the couch with him, her head still resting on his lap. His eyes fell on her and he couldn’t help but caress her shoulder, his hand light and gentle so that it wouldn’t have disturbed her. Dierieri still slept and didn't seem intentioned to wake up anytime soon. Monspeet sighed, brushing her hair. He should have taken her to bed last night when he realised that she had fallen asleep - but he thought he could have left rest for a while and then he got distracted watching her sleep and - and well, that was a mistake, obviously.

Yawning, he glanced at the window. The light filtering through the curtains told him that it was probably early in the morning, definitely not late enough to get up. Maybe he could go back to sleep for a while. Or maybe not, he thought when, as he tried to get more comfortable, he felt a twinge in his back and neck. Sighing, he glanced at Derieri again; he didn’t want to wake her up, but he didn’t even want to let her sleep alone there. She wouldn’t have liked to wake up on the couch without him. 

Carefully, he slid his hands under her body, and when he was sure he had a good grip on her, he lifted her in his arms and stood up. Even though she had always been more muscular than many of the women - and men - he knew, Derieri was light in his arms, and fit his embrace perfectly. At first, he thought he had managed not to wake her up, but as he took the first steps towards the bedroom, she stirred in his arms and turned towards him, so that she could rub her face against his chest. "What now?" She muttered, without even opening her eyes. 

"We fell asleep on the couch. I'm carrying you to bed now," he quietly explained, holding her just a little closer as he kept walking. 

"Hm. It was fine." 

He shrugged slightly, "Not for my back." 

Derieri hummed but didn't comment anymore. She let him carry her until he gently laid her down on the mattress. He stood up again to stretch and managed to rub his neck for a couple of seconds before he felt a strong grip on his wrist. Derieri pulled him towards her with no effort, making him fall on the bed at her side. Before he could say anything, she was curling against him. When he looked down at her, he found her glaring at him with half-closed eyes. "Now, sleep," she almost commanded, then she closed her eyes, obviously determined to do the same. 

Monspeet didn't though, not yet; he watched as her features relaxed and her breathing became slower, until he was sure she had fallen asleep again. He would have never dared to say it out loud, but he found her so incredibly cute when she slept. Only then he heaved a sigh and enveloped her with his arms to hold her close to him. Having her at his side always made it easier to sleep; it had always been like this, since the first time they had fallen asleep together - on a couch, funnily enough, after one of Galand's party. It felt peaceful, like something he was missing finally fit into place. Smiling, he rested his forehead against her hair, and, finally, closed his eyes.