#I almost stopped after 'stepped off the branch' but I thought that would be mean

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

I'm finally back with more MLC long fic snippets for you! FDB is carrying a wounded and barely conscious DFS on his back and is about to attempt to use qinggong to get them out of the tree DFS had collapsed in. (You can find all previous excerpts here.)

**

Slowly, making sure the additional weight on his back didn’t unbalance him, he planted one foot up on the branch and shifted his weight. He brought his other foot up to join him, clenching his core to stay stable.

He looked down at the ground below. He hadn’t exactly used qinggong from heights quite like this before, and certainly not while carrying anyone else or without the use of his arms, but presumably  it was the same idea. He cleared his throat. “Ok. Here we go! Hold on tight.”

“Wait,” a-Fei croaked in his ear.

Fang Duobing froze immediately. “What is it?” 

A-Fei shook his head, his hands fumbling until his left thumb was positioned immediately over the nailbed of his right hand’s fifth finger. Then he jabbed his own Shaochong acupoint with his thumbnail with a force that would have made anyone else cry out in pain. Fang Duobing gaped at him as a-Fei kept digging into the very sensitive point, with a faint, barely audible hiss as the stubborn man’s only reaction. 

“Wait, you were about to faint?” Fang Duobing yelped. Oh Gods, if his arms had slipped off of him while they were in the air and he’d fallen backward, a-Fei could have hit his head on a tree branch, or worse! Thank goodness he’d thought to use the acupoint to restore consciousness. “Here, scoot higher up so you’re draped more over my shoulder! That way, even if you let go, you’ll stay–”

“–Stop. Talking,” a-Fei snapped, his breathing labored. “Fix your technique. Or you’ll shatter your leg.”

“Oh.” Fang Duobing winced. Apparently there was more of an art to this than he’d realized. “What am I doing wrong?”

A-Fei’s answering sigh was so much heavier than he was. “Your qi is too slow. And the proportion is off. Put more around your feet and ankles. Start now and increase it as you approach the ground.” He took a deeper breath. “And you’ll need your arms,” he said, his scowl audible.

Fang Duobing shook his head and forced himself not to press them closer to his sides. “I can’t. You need them more!” A-Fei could already barely move from exhaustion; it was unthinkable that he could support his legs on his own. And even if he could, they’d both seen how poorly he responded to being that close. The emotional toll alone would be–

“–Do it,” a-Fei growled through clenched teeth, “or you’ll splatter us on the forest floor. Right arm first. Now.”

“Fine! But you better not fall, ok?” Fang Duobing’s voice shook slightly despite his best efforts. He slid his arm out from under a-Fei’s thigh and lifted it far enough away that a-Fei wouldn’t bump it as he changed position but close enough that he could catch his leg if a-Fei didn’t have the strength after all.

Slowly, jerkily, and with less grace than a-Fei had ever before exhibited, a-Fei extended his leg and wrapped it tightly around Fang Duobing’s waist. 

Fang Duobing stayed as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe.

A-Fei swallowed and dug his thumb harder into his Shaochong acupoint. “Left,” he gritted out. 

They repeated the process, a-Fei’s foot, then leg, then entire body were trembling from the effort by the time he was fully in position. If a-Fei was breathing, it was too shallow for him to feel, despite their proximity.

Fang Duobing swallowed. “You’re sure about this?” He tried desperately to ignore the fact that a-Fei’s groin was once again pressed tight against his lower back. This was absolutely not the time to–

“–Hurry and fix your qi, brat,” a-Fei rasped, his voice shaking almost as hard as the rest of him.

“I’m trying!” Fang Duobing pushed his worry and other feelings for a-Fei aside as much as he could and closed his eyes. He imagined his qi spinning faster and faster through him, on separating some to cushion his feet, ankles, and knees while the rest kept circulating.

“Arms,” a-Fei prompted, and Fang Duobing stuck his arms out to his side, feeling the qi race through his fingertips, ready to slow his descent.

“Now,” a-Fei snapped, and Fang Duobing opened his eyes, shifted his weight, and stepped off the branch.

Time slowed. Fang Duobing felt it drag against him like the air currents they flew through. A-Fei hissed other instructions at him–faster qi, lean back, not that far, bend your knees–as the forest floor grew before them. 

“Palms,” a-Fei growled in his ear. 

Fang Duobing sent out a large pulse of qi from each palm straight at the ground, just before his soles hit the floor. 

His ankles and knees twinged slightly with the impact, but that was all.

They were safe, because a-Fei had helped.

A-Fei, who had been on the verge of fainting, who had just had a qi deviation, and a panic attack, and who could barely move or speak moments earlier because of whatever horrors had haunted his mind, had used a resuscitation maneuver to force himself to save them yet again.

It wasn’t fair. A-Fei deserved rest, not having to push himself to and past his breaking point once more.

Maybe, now that they were back on solid ground, and would soon be back at Lotus Tower, they could give him the safety and comfort he needed.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d accept some of it.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 27

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, angst, tension, anxiety, mentions of memory loss, suspicion

I didn’t get much sleep that night. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind raced with thoughts about Y/n. Being around her again, especially knowing how much she’s forgotten, made me feel on edge. I couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow, about being in close quarters with her again, pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. I rolled over and picked up my phone, the time showing 8:49am, eleven minutes before my alarm was about to go off. I gave up on trying to sleep. I got up, dressed, and went to my desk. Sitting on the corner was a small, dainty gold hoop earring, a few tiny diamonds glinting in the morning light. Y/n’s earring. I never got the chance to give it back to her before everything fell apart.

Picking it up, I rubbed the cold metal between my fingers, feeling the weight of what it symbolized. It could be an olive branch, maybe a way to start over. To give it back to her now, with everything that’s happened, felt like a small gesture. A way of saying I remember. I shoved it in my jean pocket, figuring I'd find the right moment later.

When I walked into the kitchen, Chris, Nick, and Y/n were stood talking casually by the counter. They were already dressed, waiting to go out for breakfast. The moment I stepped in, Y/n glanced up, and our eyes met for a brief second. She gave me a shy, half smile, and I nodded back, trying to keep my expression neutral. But inside, my stomach twisted. It was like being punched in the gut, seeing her like this, so close but still so distant.

Chris was complaining about being hungry, tapping his foot impatiently. "C’mon, let’s go already" he whined, tossing my keys to me.

Nick laughed. "Alright, alright, we're leaving now."

We all piled into the car, Y/n slipping into the backseat behind me. I could feel the tension between us, even if no one else could. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. I felt like a stranger being around her, even though there was so much history between us, history she didn’t even remember.

As we drove off, I tried to focus on the road, but my mind kept drifting back to Y/n, wondering how this day would go, if I’d find the right moment to give her the earring, and what her reaction would be. Would she remember it? Would it mean anything to her? Or was it just another piece of the past she’d forgotten?

I drove to the cafe, the one Nick insisted on, and the same spot we’d gone a few weeks ago, the morning after Y/n and I gave in to each other. The Nook is what its called. The memories of that morning hit me hard as I pulled into the parking lot, the intimacy of the place now a heavy weight on my chest. It wasn’t just about being close to her, it was about the vulnerability it brought, the emotions I couldn’t hide.

We all piled into a booth, Nick and Chris were already chatting and flipping through menus, while I stayed quiet, lost in thought. Y/n sat directly across from me. It was different than last time, almost symbolic of how distant things felt now. Back then, she was right beside me, laughing and smiling, my hand sneakily on her thigh. Now, it was as though a wall had been built between us, one I wasn’t sure how to break down.

Y/n stood up, interrupting my thoughts. "Where’s the bathroom?" she asked, glancing between Chris and me. Nick gave her directions, and just before she left, she looked back, almost hesitating. "If the waitress comes, can you order me the-"

"Blueberry pancakes." we both said at the same time.

Fuck.

The shock on her face mirrored the panic in my chest. I knew. Of course I knew. Those were her favorite. I remembered every detail, every small thing about her, but the fact that it came out so naturally hit me like a punch to the gut.

“How did you know that’s what I wanted?” she asked, her voice soft, laced with confusion.

I froze for a second, my mind racing for something to say that wouldn’t give me away. I couldn’t tell her the truth, not here, not now. So I forced a casual shrug, avoiding her eyes. “I… remember you got them with Nick once.. I’m just good at remembering people’s orders.”

She furrowed her brows, clearly not satisfied with the answer but too polite to push it further. “Oh.. that’s nice, I guess..” she muttered, then turned and headed to the bathroom.

The moment she was gone, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Nick and Chris were still chatting, oblivious to the tension that had wrapped itself around me like a vice.

Why did I say that? Why couldn’t I just tell her the truth? Every time she was near me, my instincts were to protect, to care for her, but how could I do that when she didn’t even remember who I was, who we were? And now she was asking how I knew something so personal about her, something that only someone close would know.

I leaned back against the booth, running my hands through my hair. This wasn’t sustainable. Playing it cool, pretending that things were normal when everything inside me screamed to tell her the truth. But I couldn’t. I had to keep my distance. For her sake, for mine. Even though it killed me to do so.

Nick nudged me, snapping me out of my thoughts. "You good, man?"

“Yeah” I mumbled, faking a smile. “Just thinking.”

About a million things. None of which I could say out loud.

We sat there waiting for Y/n to return, but in the silence, all I could think about was how much harder this was getting. Trying to act normal when everything was far from it. And knowing, deep down, that as much as I wanted to tell her everything, I might never get the chance to.

We finished up at the cafe, the awkwardness from earlier still lingering. I could barely focus on my food, my mind stuck on that moment with Y/n and the damn blueberry pancakes. Why did I have to say anything? The drive back was quiet, mostly just Chris tracking Nate’s flight on his phone, announcing every update like it was some sort of countdown.

As I drove us toward Y/n’s doctor’s office, I overheard her and Nick talking in the back. She was hopeful she’d be able to get her wrist brace off today, excited about the prospect of returning to “normality.” Or at least what she thought was her normal. One thing she did remember was her job, the retail gig she’d stuck with since she left school. I knew how tough retail could be, and part of me respected her for keeping at it for so long. She even mentioned how excited she was to get back to her first shift today, as long as the doctor gave her the all clear.

I pulled up outside the practice, the conversation dying down as we arrived. Chris was still busy with Nate’s flight updates while Nick and Y/n exchanged goodbyes. Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt, giving everyone a smile before she opened the door. As she stepped out of the car, this overwhelming urge hit me.

“Y/n” I blurted out before I could stop myself. My hands instinctively went to my jean pocket, feeling the small hoop earring I’d been carrying. I wanted to give it back to her. I wanted her to remember. Hoping it was some way to bridge the gap between us.

She leaned back into the car slightly, peering her head through the door. “Yeah?”

I swallowed, my mind racing. Do it, just give it to her, I thought. 

“I hope you get your wrist brace off.”

I bitched it.

That was it.

That was all I could manage.

She smiled, looking genuinely grateful. “Thanks, Matt. I appreciate that.”

Then, she waved goodbye to all of us. “Bye, guys. Have a good day! Tell your friend Nate I’d love to meet him.. if I haven’t already!” she added with a little laugh before closing the door.

I watched her walk toward the entrance of the doctor’s office, and all I could think was how stupid I was. Why didn’t I just say what I wanted to say? Why didn’t I give her the earring or at least have a real conversation with her?

Instead, I sat there, gripping the steering wheel tighter, feeling like an idiot for missing yet another chance to make things right. Chris smacked the back of my seat. “Alright, let's go get Nate.”

But my mind was still back at the café, stuck on everything I hadn’t said.

Y/n’s POV

I left the doctor's office clutching a leaflet for physio exercises and clearance for me to go back to work. My wrist was still a little stiff, but at least it was nothing serious. The brace was off, and now I just needed to get my range of motion back.

As I walked out, I realized I hadn’t heard from Alex all day, which was unusual. He’d usually check in, especially after knowing I had an appointment. So, I shot him a quick message, letting him know I was cleared by the doctor and I should be home soon. The message didn’t deliver, but I figured it was because he was in class or had poor reception.

I ordered an Uber to take me home. God, I missed driving. I couldn’t wait to get behind the wheel again, hopefully Alex would be home by the time I had to go to work so I could drive there. 

The Uber driver pulled up and as we drove to my apartment, I found myself thinking about all the things I had to do once I got back to work - catching up, easing back into shifts, and the usual retail hustle.

When the Uber arrived outside my apartment, I noticed my car was still parked in our assigned space. That was strange. Alex usually took it to college since we share mine. Maybe he carpooled with the guys this morning? I shrugged it off not reading too much into it.

Walking up the steps, I reached into my bag, feeling for my keys. As I got closer to the door, I heard something that made me freeze. Laughter. But not just any laughter, female laughter, coming from inside my apartment.

My heart rate quickened, a wave of unease washing over me. Without thinking, I shoved my key into the lock, the sound of it turning felt so loud in the stillness of the hallway. I opened the door quickly, practically bursting into the room.

And there she was. Emily. Sitting on top of my kitchen table, looking disheveled and far too comfortable. Her hair was a mess, and her face was flushed.

Alex stood just a couple of feet away, by the sink. He looked over at me, and for a split second, his face flickered with something. Guilt? Panic? I couldn't quite tell.

Why the hell was she still here?A knot formed in my stomach, tightening with every second that passed. Something was off, very off.

a/n: 3 more parts left, schedule is here

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[tkwrites]

The Invitation - Jack Hughes x platonic ofc

Photo from Pinterest

Title: The Invitation

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established in the Snapshots Series - Platonic Jack Hughes x  Quinn’s GF Sarah Roberts  

Warnings: None

Summary: Jack extends Sarah an olive branch 

Word count: 625

Comments: Just a little blurb to set up some more off-season adventures. 

The Invitation

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

A week and a half after Quinn left for Michigan, while walking to the train station from the aquarium, Sarah’s arms felt like lead.

They were moving labs, and despite “going paperless,” they still had hundreds of files she had to box up, move, scan, and hopefully shred - if Dr. Forrest would allow them to actually go paperless. She almost told him he could keep all these damn papers at home if he wanted the backups so bad. If she knew she wouldn’t be the one moving them, she would have.

Her phone trilled, and she was so thankful for the airpods Quinn had given her. Digging her phone from the depths of her bag felt like too much of a burden. 

Siri informed her, “Michigan,” was calling. 

Dread flooded her limbs, and she stopped dead on the sidewalk, making the crowd part to walk around her. 

“Call from: Michigan,” Siri said again. 

Taking a steadying breath, Sarah tapped her right earphone to answer the call, “Hello?” 

“Hey, Sarah?” 

Recognizing the voice only calmed her racing heart by a tick. 

“Hey, Jack. Is everything okay?” 

He seemed surprised by her concern, “yeah, everything’s fine.” 

Sighing, she began walking again. “You’ve never called me before, so I thought Q was hurt or something.” 

“Oh,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn’t thought about how she would interpret him calling. He hated talking on the phone. 

“What’s up?” 

“Oh, um…” 

Good god, what was he even doing? He had to wait until she was off work to call her, and now, he was in a corner of the bar patio, hoping no one in their group would come looking for him. 

“I was calling you about Hawaii,” he blurted. 

“Oh.” 

“I, uh,” he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I think it would be good if you could come for part of it. Like, the second week or something?” 

A smile broke over Sarah’s face, “really?” 

“Yeah, I mean Quinn would love it, and my mom keeps talking about all this stuff you know, so it would be good for you to be there part of the time.” 

“That’s really nice. I would love to.” 

Of course she was sweet about it. She was sweet about everything. 

A pause passed over the phone, and Jack heard the city muffled through her headphones. 

“Anyway,” he said after a minute, “I was thinking it could be fun to surprise him. I’m talking to Kylee to surprise Luke, too.” 

“That’s really sweet, Jack.” 

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he admonished. He loved his brothers. If he could make them happy by buying a few plane tickets, he would. 

She laughed, “no, I guess I shouldn’t.” Still, she was surprised to have the kind of consideration that Quinn often talked about directed at her. It was a turning point she hadn’t expected to reach with Jack for a long time. 

“Anyway, I'll buy your ticket. You lived on Kauai, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We’re doing that the second week. I’ll send you the details.” 

“Okay. Can you send me the dates now so I can request work off?” 

Right. She had to ask about stuff like that. He forgot that most people didn’t have the summer off.

“Yeah. I will. Listen, I have to go, but we’ll talk more.” 

Sarah stepped onto the train, feeling a little out of sync but grateful all the same.

By the time she got back to her apartment, Jack had texted her a set of dates and asked her when she could fly. It was going to be awful to keep it a secret from Quinn for the summer, but it would be fun to surprise him. She’d never seen him surprised. She wondered how he would react. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[sadienita]

[1:01] “Joong, where- ugh!” You groaned as you spun around to find Hongjoong way behind you yet again. You were meant to be on a cute date, a first date in fact, because after a year of pining Hongjoong had finally mustered up the courage to ask you out. Despite his clear nerves it had been lovely.

Or mostly lovely.

Because despite taking you out to lunch and then to a cute cafe and now for a walk in the park, he had also brought his camera along. And he couldn’t seem to help himself, stopping at every pretty sight to snap a photo, not to mention about fifty photos each from the cafe and restaurant of your food.

It was cute really, but it did mean his attention kept wandering. If you didn’t know him well it might have been rude. But you knew how shy he could be and you could see how nervous he was even if he hid it well. So you simply gave him a smile when he met your gaze with a confused “huh?”

“I’m walking alone.” You chuckled.

“O-Oh, sorry.” He mumbled, scurrying to meet you. He looked even cuter as the blush on his cheeks matched the pink on the tip of his nose from the cold weather. “I got distracted.”

“Was it a good picture?” You hummed.

“Yeah I think so, I think I have at least a few good ones from today. It’s nice that it snowed.” He gazed over the hedge at a few young girls making snow ducks at the side of the walking path. “Everything looks pretty when it snows.”

“Even me?” You teased.

“Y-You always look pretty.” He said quickly. When you glanced at him he was blushing harder. You nudged him with your arm and he looked at you.

“You’re pretty too.”

“You’re just saying that cuz I said it.” He countered.

You put a hand over your heart. “I swear I’m telling the truth.” You reached over to pinch his nose which made him jump. “You’re adorable.”

“I think you just like teasing me.” He muttered.

“I liked teasing you before you asked me out.” You said. “It‘s familiar. It should comfort you.”

“It does the opposite.”

You stepped in front of him, stopping him as you grinned at him. “Do I make you all nervous now, Joongie?”

A blush rushed up his cheeks as he ducked his head. “Why did I think confessing to you was a smart idea?”

“Do I make your heart race?”

“I should have known you would just torture me.”

“Bet you wanna kiss me, don’t you?”

Hongjoong grabbed his camera again, forcing it between the two of you, almost as if creating his own little bubble to withstand your teasing. “Let me take your picture.” He said.

“You didn’t answer any of my questions.” You laughed. He nudged you backwards.

“You already know I like you, do I have to admit to everything?” He mumbled.

“It’s more fun if you do.” You said, wandering down the path as he found you in his viewfinder.

“Don’t I make you feel the same way, anyways?”

Yes. 

Yes, I feel butterflies in my stomach everytime you call my name.

Yes, I feel my heart racing a mile a minute each time you look at me.

Yes, I want you to kiss me.

But you couldn’t just say those things out loud.

“You make me feel…” You thought for a moment as you gazed up at the snow covered branches of the tree. “Make me feel-”

“Wait! Don’t move!” Hongjoong’s sudden exclamation made you jump a little but you held still after that, hearing the snap of his camera shutter. It went off a few more times before you looked at him, ending with him getting one more of you looking right into the camera. You could feel the heat warming you from the inside out as he shyly brought the camera down. He looked so pretty, the shy smile on his face, cheeks and nose tinted pink. The way he looked at you had your heart hammering in your chest, like you were his whole world.

“Sorry, you- it’s a really good picture.” He cleared his throat, tone hopeful when he spoke again. “What were you saying? About how I make you feel?”

A smile tugged at your lips. You didn’t say anything in response, instead waking back down the path towards him. Hongjoong let out a yelp as you dug your fingers into his scarf and pulled him in, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss that made your heart feel like it had an entire fireworks display going off.

When you pulled back Hongjoong looked just as dazed as you felt.

“You make me feel love.” You hummed, before kissing him again.

[arcielee]

the sword & the salver

paring: Suguru Geto x reader summary: Prince Satoru Gojo sends his trusted general, and friend, across the kingdom to retrieve the girl who saved him when he was a boy. You loathe the idea of having your life uprooted on the whim of some faraway prince, and General Suguru Geto is determined to see through his prince's command, by whatever means. word count: 3.4k+ warnings: AFAB reader, Gojo being Gojo, some miscommunication and missed moments, and more pining for funsies! author's note: Thank you for all the comments and reblogs! They give me life. 🥰 Also, I forgot to mention that Atsumeru means to collect or gather. Enjoy! [Snippet below source.]

Chapter III ~ More Than Words

almost eighteen years ago

The cry for help was wet and shrilled, a kind of panic that rippled through you, echoing from the river that curved through Hoshi. 

It was your first moment away from the fretful eye of your father, a blessed reprieve under the trees as you poured over the book he had gifted. Its pages detailed the history of herbs and its healing properties, your newfound passion. You looked up from it, eyes squinting unsure of the noise you heard until you spotted the frantic flail of arms. 

A boy struggling to stay afloat, being pulled by the swollen river.

Your brow furrowed. No one would dare cross the river, especially after the heavy rains that washed away the recent bloodshed–though the iron smell remained, heavy and haunting. 

He will surely drown, you realized. There was a large tree that had fallen across, and you knew it was your only hope to try and save him. You closed your book, bounding to your feet, divots carving into the still-damp earth as you ran the dirt path alongside. Your mother’s shawl streamed behind you, catching around, but it did not falter your steps. 

“Help me!” You heard him scream, choking on another mouthful of water.

Ahead, you saw the tree was wedged by the rocks that lined both sides of the river; though the branches had grown brittle, you hoped the trunk remained steady. “I am trying!” You kicked off your shoes, quick but careful as you moved towards the center. You peeled the shawl from your shoulders and wrapped it around a thicker branch jutting upwards, a sharp tug to secure before you knotted the end.  

“Grab this!” You yelled as his head bobbed above, hoping he could hear you over the rushing white crash of the current that was pulling him.

Your silent prayer was answered as it left your hands, guided by the gods themselves. The fabric went taut and you braced yourself, pulling hand-over-hand as he held onto the other end for his life. 

When he hit the trunk, he clawed for hold, a fistful of your skirt that nearly dragged you in. “Stop!” You shrieked, losing your balance and falling to your knees, burning against the bark. “I am trying to help you!” You reached to grab his shirt and he used the momentum to himself up, draping over the tree. 

You felt exhausted. Your legs ached, dangling lifeless off the sides, bruised and bloody knees soothed by the water lapping up and soaking your torn skirt. The boy was shaking with deep, shuddering breaths that wracked his slender frame. 

“Thank you,” he rasped after the last of the river expelled from his lungs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thank you for saving me, but–please, don’t tell my mother.” 

At first you thought him mad, as you could not understand what he meant–how could you even know who she was–until you truly looked at him, seeing the bluest eyes with a piercing desperacy, wide and pleading. 

Prince Satoru Gojo. 

You were awestruck. “The prince cannot swim?”

He scowled, and you ignored it. You pulled him to his feet, unsteady but demanding, moving back to the river bank. He was compliant, his fight swept away in the currents, following you to first retrieve your book before you marched him back to your home.

Evening was pulling over and you saw your father was waiting for you outside, tall and lean, the severity of his face twisting with his worry. Your stomach dropped, but he soon recognized the azure infinity of the prince’s eyes–a well-known royal trait–and ushered you both inside. 

It was only after he cleaned up that the prince seemed to possess a regal air about him, despite how the clothes borrowed hung on his lithe frame. He was a few years older, very lean and with a boyish charm that now replaced his panic from earlier. He was gracious to your father and very well-spoken, just as you would expect royalty to behave. 

You watched him, your curiosity knitted between your brows. You had asked your father why he, the future heir to the Tengen Kingdom, would even require anything from your humble home. 

Your father had shushed you. “We will always help anyone in need,” he reminded you, “no matter their station in life.” 

When supper was served, a broth to warm the bones, the prince ate as if he was starved. A silence settled over the table, punctuated by the cutlery. Your skepticism could not be masked and your eyes narrowed onto him, brimming with questions you could not keep to your chest. 

“How did you fall into the river?”

The warning look from your father was set aside; your attention was solely on the prince. Prince Gojo returned your gaze with a smirk curling on his lips, welcoming the challenge, and you wondered how often he was ever told that he could not do something in his privileged life. 

“I was trying to get away,” he offered, another spoonful to fill his mouth. 

You would not be deterred. “Get away from what?”

“From things you could not understand.” 

You scoffed. “Swimming lessons, my prince?” 

Your name came out as a warning, low and lethal, and your father’s sharp eyes bored through you, silencing you. Your jaw ticked, your lips pursing as you looked back at the prince and the celestial blue of his eyes dancing, daring you. 

His tone was even. “There are obligations that are expected of me and I no longer wish to fulfill them.”

“I suppose this is for the best then, for you to wash away.” You could not stop yourself. “A cowardly prince would make for a cowardly king.”

He was red. “You dare call me a coward–” 

“Enough.”

Your father had no need to raise his voice, his gravelly tone was commanding in itself. Your eyes fell in front of you and your cheeks were warm with his chastising tone. 

The silence returned, thicker, denser than before, rolling over to ensnare the attention at everyone sitting at the table before your father spoke again. “Cowardice is only the result of seeing what is right and choosing to do nothing,” he reminded you.

The prince looked at him, the endless ocean of his eyes shining bright. Your father then continued, “I believe the gods often give us what we need and never what it is that we want. And a great king is determined by the resilience he wields with every daunting task that he will face.” 

You looked to the prince and saw a pensive change, a consideration in the cerulean cosmos of his gaze that was observing your father. It shifted his posture, his shoulders lifting with a new acceptance that steeled his jaw with a determination unearthed. 

The prince did not look at you, nor would he speak to you again that night. The next morning, he was gone, his mother arriving with the cavalry to bring him home. 

And Prince Gojo went without complaint. 

+ + + +

present day

The thought dawned on you along with the rising sun, the same as it had been the day before with its unyielding gold pouring over. Your body was sore, tear-wearied and bundled in the furs and the blanket that still held onto Suguru’s scent. You blinked, watching the smoke curl up from the fire pit and looking over to see Mimiko grazing at her leisure by the river’s edge, her ears flickering on alert. 

I have to see it for myself, you decided. It was the only way to accept what happened, to help the raw ache that still rattled inside your chest. 

The air was crisp against your face as you walked back up the knoll to see the damage that was done by the fire. Below was Suguru, kneeling at the blackened border of what had been your home. Embers were still glowing towards the center, smoke rolling over in intermittent waves above the ash and whisking away with the autumn breeze. You could see the tension lining his shoulders as he stretched to sink two fingers in the ashen edge. 

You stayed quiet, moving closer, ignoring the pulse of dull pain at the sight. Suguru looked up at you with the same careful consideration shining in his eyes, following your steps as you moved towards what was left of the fireplace, stones still stacked and most of them cracked. 

Start anew. Your eyes washed over before you pulled out a felt pouch and kneeled to collect some of the black charcoal. “A healer has her reasons,” you called over your shoulder; you could still feel his eyes, but you could not bring yourself to look at him yet. 

Suguru said nothing, only a hum, and your eyes moved onto something protruding from the soot. Your steps were mindful, the earth still warm beneath the soles of your boots, and you tentatively touched it with your toe. It cracked in half and you saw the familiar gleam of agate from the mortar your father gifted you. 

A soft, surprised sound spilled from your lips and you kneeled again, your fingers unburying and flitting to find the pestle unbroken. You moved towards the river with the pieces in your hands. 

He shadowed after your steps, keeping a respectful distance, his curious gaze watching as you removed your boots and knotted your skirt around your knees. The water nipped to the bone as you waded to your ankles, squatting to wash away the ash that covered your hands, cleaning the stone until its dull gray shine showed again; you pressed the two halve together, a perfect fit. 

It made you smile. “I think I will see about getting them gilded together whenever we arrive at Hoshi,” you said, turning to show Suguru.

He shifted with a fleeting relief that you were finally looking at him, but his expression turned pained, almost dumbfounded with what you said. “You still wish to go?” 

You could have laughed. “What other choice is there? If anything… well, first we must go so you can be relieved of this errand the prince sent you on.” The words needled through your throat and you quickly swallowed it. “I will decline the prince’s proposal and then I will request an audience with the queen to see about a possible restitution.” 

Suguru raised his eyebrows. “You say this as though you expect that she would give you such a sum.” 

“Perhaps she will pity me.” You shrugged. “But the queen has helped in the north before with every time the men from Ryomen cross over.”

It was not what he was expecting you to say. His jaw steeled, alarm flashing across his face, but his tone remained controlled. “How often does that happen now?” 

As long as you could remember.

The violent shift from the bordering kingdom in the north only began once Sukuna claimed the crown. His first act as king was to disregard the border policies that had been respected for the last century. He swore they were made as a blatant prejudice against his people, and rallied against the Tengen Kingdom, stating they were selfish with how they hoarded. 

The queen responded with an envoy, an invitation to expand her charter market. He returned only their heads, a trademarked expression, his sense of entitlement beginning its ugly and violent reign. 

Skirmishes began flaring, slowly pressing inwards until the battle of Hoshi was fought some years later. It was bloodied, brazen, but won at a cost that carved out your heart with the death of your mother, amongst many others.

In fact, both kingdoms were nearly crippled from the casualties. 

Sukuna and his men were beaten back to the borders, and he would not attempt another full blown assault for almost a decade–a war fought and lost on Tengen land, beaten by a young man with an enchanted sword that swayed the favor. 

“My father lost his life on that day.” Suguru did not lament with his words, just a fact stated as he offered you his hand. You could feel the callouses from his sword, and his warmth pulled you back onto the river bank. You did not want to let go, but he did, taking the pieces you had washed to carry them for you. “My father had served the queen faithfully and helped win that battle, but his injuries were too severe.”

Your empty hands unknotted your skirts, grabbing your boots and following after as he continued. “The queen took me in with the hopes that I would be a good influence on Satoru. But as you know, he ran away later that week.”

“I am glad he went back.”

A smile shadowed on his face before he asked. “How did your father die?”

With the gold given by the queen, your father decided to return to the north and set up his practice. Meanwhile, Sukuna grew restless before his cruel cycle repeated as before: pillaging and raiding, crippling the Tengen kingdom village by village. While most fled, your father remained to offer aid to anyone who needed it, but when his healing prowess was learned of, it was not long after that your village was attacked. 

Your father had been captured and then killed. Sukuna had his head sent back as an ill omen, but his body remained on display, placed on spikes for the birds to peck at. You had buried what you had of him by the river, shaded under the banyan trees. 

Suguru paled, his voice soft, “I am so sorry.” 

“I am too.” You felt the urge to reach for him, to feel the warmth of his hands again. “I am sorry for what you lost as well.” 

He shifted his stance, uncertainty flittering, still cradling the pieces to his chest. “But with the fire–” 

You stopped him. “We are not having a battle of plight, Suguru.” War had broken you both, you wanted to say, and that just as he found that sword to carve his own legacy, you were determined to rebuild again. 

But instead, you said, “I actually wanted to thank you.” Your boldness burned your face, something that recurred under his steady gaze. 

He stopped and turned to look at you; you sighed to soothe your nerves. “I was… rash last night. I was not thinking clearly. It just felt as if I had lost my father all over again. Seeing all of this,” –you gestured around, eyes flitting back over the soot and ash– “I realized that he remains with me through my actions, that he lives within the pages of the book… the one that I showed you.” 

Your words were spilling, almost rambling, but this time it served as a sense of comfort for you, of reassurance spoken out loud. Suguru stayed quiet, allowing you to gather your thoughts, and you felt a shiver up your spine from the ardent amethyst of his eyes. 

“So, thank you, Suguru,” and you finally looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, “for everything, for what you did for me last night.” 

Your composure was forced as the blood roared in your head from how your heart was beating in your chest. You studied him, deciphering every shift in his features: his look of surprise, at first, but it came and went with your heart beat. His jaw tightened, a rose dusting to his cheeks and his brow furrowing above the swirling cogitation of his purple gaze. 

He said nothing, but began to walk again. You watched him for a moment before following after. 

Back at the camp, Mimiko looked up with a whinny greeting. Suguru moved to pack while you cleaned yourself and laced up your boots. It was decided the buggy would remain behind, and you climbed in the back to pull down the herbs–turmeric and echinacea and lavender–pressing them between the pages of Atsumeru before tucking it back into your satchel.

“Hoshi is about eight days away on foot.” You were startled to hear his voice after the long beat of silence that settled between. Suguru moved to take your bag and secure it to Mimiko’s backside. “And she won’t be able to carry us for long distances.” 

You moved closer to her, your palm flat as offering for her to smell. Mimiko lowered her head for you and you followed along her jaw, reaching to scratch behind her ear. “I do not mind walking.” 

“Have you ridden a horse before?”

“Not since I was a girl.” 

Suguru patted Mimiko and she preened under his attention, turning her head away from you. “We will take it slow with her, but today we should ride. I think we could use the break.”

This was true. You could feel how your body was pulling away, still able to complete the motions but your mind was fogging with a creeping exhaustion, the emotional drain of last night and this morning now weighing heavily on you. 

You were also grateful that Suguru seemed aware of this without you having to say it out loud. 

He stepped towards you and your blood began to warm again. “May I?” he asked you, and it spread through your chest. You were too dazed to understand what you were agreeing to, but he was careful to take your hand and place it on the saddle.

“I need you to hold this tight.” His low murmur guided you as he moved your other hand towards the cantle. He then kneeled in front of you, his hands knitting together to cup your foot and help you aback Mimiko, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. 

“How do you feel?” he asked once you were seated. 

You were still burning from where he had touched you, and it was prickling over your skin. “Tall,” you decided to say and Suguru grinned, moving to pull himself up and settle behind you. 

It pulled the air from your lungs–his chest solid against your backside and his warmth grounding you. He wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you, the other reached for the reins. “You all right?” His voice tickled your ear and you tried not to squirm, but just focused on breathing again.

You gave a quick nod. “Yes,” your voice was tight. 

As Mimiko trodden along, you felt a serenity with how the rest of the day peeled away. The ease of conversation you had shared with the general in the prior days was exchanged for a comfortable silence, but you did not mind this. As night fell over, earlier with the season change, you relaxed against him, growing heavy. Suguru tightened his hold on you in response. 

“We should probably stop for camp.” 

You blinked slowly as he stopped Mimiko. He climbed down first and reached to help you down. “You may be sore,” he warned. 

It was a new ache that shifted into your bones, a painsome stretch as you stumbled down, your fingers grasping onto him. His hands never left you, his palms gripping into the small of your waist to keep you upright, and his touch lingered long after your feet were steady on the ground. 

You looked up at him and Suguru let go at once. “I am sore,” you admitted with a nervous laugh, your blood burning again. 

He moved away from you, from the main road to find a clearing. As you gathered branches, Suguru dug a pit for a low fire to allow some warmth. He hesitated with the bedding before he set aside the furs for you and took the blanket for himself. 

As you watched him, you felt the bubble of words spilling before you could stop them. “Perhaps it would be better if we slept side-by-side again…” you faltered, silencing as he looked at you. 

His eyes were as dark as the night that swelled around the fire. The amber glow showed his tongue pressing to his lips, a tension returning as he considered what you said. “We would stay warmer, closer together,” his voice was low, unsure with how you would respond. 

Heat licked up your spine, though you begged to sound nonchalant with your reply. “It makes sense,” you paused, smothering the eagerness curling in your stomach. “Winter is coming and the nights will only get colder. It also might be some time before we even come across a proper place to stay the night.” 

His face relaxed and he piled the layers before getting underneath. He lifted them enough to invite you and you crawled under. Suguru pulled you back into his chest, covering you both with the furs. 

A smile touched your lips, a soft sigh as you fitted against him, as though you belonged. 

taglist: @sugurubabe @alwaysfreakingout @paprikaquinn @yeehawbrothers @witchbybirth

arcie's navi | jjk masterlist the salver & the sword masterlist

[hotteoki]

pirate king (j.y.h)

pairing: pirate jeong yunho x fem reader

genre: strangers to lovers, alternate dimension, pirate au

wc: 4k

cw: mild language, weaponry

notes: i wrote this with the layout of the ateez ship in mind (the one in the 'illusion' mv but with blond yunho cause he 4+4 the halloween ver of deja vu

xtra - tysm @woosluv & @ssaboala for beta reading for me! <33

"all eyes on me now! if you still doubt mine, it's too pointless. we're still young and wild, we gonna find new world to be mine!" yunho's fingers moved along the quote carved into the compass he's had since who knows how long.

yunho's head was lifted up forcefully by hongjoong's pointing stick poking his forehead. "you're going to get lost later on the island if you don't listen to me right now," hongjoong tilted his head, stepping back to the blackboard. "captain, i mean this in the nicest way possible, we've been over this, like, six times in the span of a week. we'll be fine," yeosang called from across the room as he tapped his telescope against his other palm, still dodging wooyoung's outstretched arms every now and then.

"you all say this but i know one of you is going to get into some shit and i'm going to have to be the one to clean it up," hongjoong sighed, dropping his pointer onto the ground lazily, "okay, come on, let's get off the ship. remember the plan, and wooyoung, stop trying to kiss yeosang's face. you can do that when we come back."

yunho kicked the ladder down onto the dock, stepping off the ship first. the crew split up, him going into the left path trailing into the cave. they all knew exactly what they were looking for, and the lengths each and every one of them were willing to take to get it.

it was peaceful until a rustle attracted his attention. yunho paused, pretending to re-lace his shoes, his eyes darting to his left, the direction where the sound had come from. when it was calm for the following minute, yunho slowly stood to continue his journey, putting on an oblivious façade, his hand subtly inching for his sheathed cutlass with every step.

yunho wasn't stupid. he's had enough experience to know not to doubt his senses at any cost. true to him, the snapping of a branch immediately heightened his senses. he swiftly cut through the thick, tall grass, eyes meeting with ones belonging to an innocent doe.

as the doe ran off, yunho only noted then how it was running along the path he was on. the cogs in his head whirred in confusion as he wondered why a deer wouldn't run away from a potential predator, rather in the same direction as him. that thought never escaped as he trudged on, praying the cave he was walking towards would appear before him faster.

and lo and behold, there it was.

if yunho hadn't been looking for it specifically he would've missed it entirely. it blended in perfectly with the shadows of the swaying trees, outgrown weeds guarding the entrance, vines crawling around, all leading straight into the depths of the cave.

peeking into the darkness, he checked every corner, sharp eyes darting here and there. finally, they landed on an unusual glimmering spot. yunho stepped closer, cautious of the fact he was now exposed to any potential predators hiding deep in the cave.

he was about a meter away from the shining rock when he realised it wasn’t a rock at all. it was an hourglass etched into the cave walls, almost like the cave was built around it over the years. he breathed out a light sigh of relief upon feeling the grooves of the rock nearby. it wasn’t etched in that deep. he could easily pull it out with a bit of help.

he allowed himself a few more minutes of admiring the hourglass. the cromer, its name was. an hourglass with the ability to lead them to an alternate dimension, where they could escape this timeline that caused each and every one of them so much pain and loss.

after stealing books from other pirates, following leads from old legends, tracking down their ancestors' footsteps, seonghwa had finally found a map hidden deep in the journals of an unknown pirate, their initials and writings long faded within the centuries. the joy the crew had felt when they located the hourglass after years was a night yunho could not forget.

just as he was about to turn back and find his crewmates, yunho was greeted with the sight of the very doe blocking his exit. when it was made clear that the doe had no intentions of moving at all, yunho unsheathed his cutlass. this was no ordinary animal.

his theory was proved right when a gust of wind blew against his face. removing his hand from his face and opening his eyes, he tried to conceal his shock. where the doe had stood before was a girl about his age.

“you’re a shapeshifter.” you raised your eyebrows at his statement, “obviously.” “i thought they didn’t exist anymore after hunters hunted them down ages ago,” yunho still had his cutlass held in front of him, wary of this new stranger. “yeah, i know. that was centuries ago. there’re still a few of us left, but most of us don’t want to be found.” “you’re not one of them, though,” yunho pointed out.

“and with good reason,” you stepped closer as yunho stepped back. sighing, you held up your hands in surrender, “do i look like i’m going to attack you or something?” “you can never be too careful,” he shrugged.

“i’ll tell you an easier way of getting that hourglass without taking this cave down.” yunho’s arm faltered, “what do you mean?” “this entire island relies on the life within the roots, the air, the animals, you know, all that shit. you break this cave the entire island goes down with it. you and your crew would never make it out alive.”

he swallowed. he wasn’t sure if you could be trusted. shapeshifters were known to be tricksters, always up to no good. what if you were playing with him and he could’ve saved precious time taking the hourglass instead of talking to you? after meeting your impatient eyes, he finally decided to play it safe.

“what do you want in return?” “get me off this island,” you replied instantly. the lack of hesitation in your voice made yunho believe you’ve had thought about this for a long, long time. he sucked in a breath through his gritted teeth. the crew couldn’t just find an extra person for charity. they were already rationing their supplies amongst themselves, adding another person might as well be a goodbye to their albeit uncomfortable but familiar living.

“take me with you or no hourglass. your choice,” you crossed your arms, tone firm. yunho swallowed again, putting his cutlass away and rubbing a hand on his face, “you’ll have to talk to the captain.” “fine, then take me to him.” “you can’t just-” yunho wanted to scream. despite being a pirate since birth, he’d never experienced a situation like this, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

“you know what? fine, let’s go find him,” yunho pursed his lips. he knew for a fact hongjoong would never agree, but how else were they supposed to get the hourglass? it wasn’t like they could just bow their heads and march back onto the ship and off.

reminding himself of the crudely drawn map in their meeting room, yunho walked for what felt like hours with the intensity of your glare burning the back of his head. he thought he could drop onto his knees and thank the heavens the second he saw the familiar back of hongjoong.

hongjoong darted up at the sound of foreign footsteps, swinging his pistol at your face out of instinct. “she wants to speak to you,” yunho deadpanned, annoyed at the situation he was currently in. hongjoong lowered his pistol slightly, aiming at your chest now, “what do you want?” “i’ll talk when you get this pistol out of my face,” you frowned.

“i’m the one with the upper hand here, you really shouldn’t be making demands.” “considering i’m one of the remaining residents of this island who knows what you’re looking for and how to get it without dying, i don’t think you are.” hongjoong made a face, “and how do i know you’re telling the truth?” “you pirates. always so nervous about everything you see,” you paused, “i want to get off this island, you can help with that, and in return i’ll give you the hourglass.”

yunho looked for a reaction from hongjoong. when he was met with none, yunho was almost disappointed over the fact that his captain was considering his answer. “okay then,” hongjoong put his pistol away, “lead the way.” yunho felt his cheeks flushing at your cheeky smile. sure, he disliked you and your cocky attitude, but he wasn’t blind. anyone could tell you were gorgeous.

“i told you guys one of you was going to get into some shit. now look who’s cleaning it up?”

≡☆

it took a while for the entire crew to be gathered in the tiny cave the cromer rested in, all squished together to get a look at the hourglass while poor mingi stood on his tiptoes at the mouth of the cave. yunho watched in awe as you lifted your hands up, determined to keep his eyes open, only to be slapped with another aggressive gust of wind blowing in his face again.

he blinked cautiously, not realising his eyes had shut involuntarily. yunho vaguely felt his breath hitching at the infamous hourglass held in your hands. the gentle glow of each individual grain amongst the heaps of sand shimmered, tugging on his attention, while contrasting with the simple and plain metal supporting the phials.

“so?” you shifted your weight, waiting for something to happen.

and something happened indeed.

one look from hongjoong was all the crew needed as san shoved you to the ground, with seonghwa snatching the cromer from your grip and tossing it to jongho, the rest sprinting back to their ship. yunho followed his crewmates swiftly, but not before throwing his head back and yelling a quick “sorry!”

in his defense, he was sorry. just not sorry enough to feel guilty about it.

he nearly crashed straight into wooyoung’s back as he skidded to a sudden halt, confused as to why they stopped. sitting on the edge of the ship, legs swinging with an unamused expression, was you. but how…

“you really think you can outrun a doe? how self-centered.” hongjoong stared right back at you, irritated, “you can’t come with us.” “then i’ll take that back.” “i’d like to see you try,” he retorted, pistol now in hand again, “you can outrun me but can you outrun a bullet aiming straight for your head?” you huffed, “i’m not asking you to adopt me or anything, i just need you to drop me off at the nearest island.”

“bullshit. you’re saying you want to go from one island to another?” jongho scoffed from beside wooyoung. “i can’t leave this place without company. please just-” you sighed, and yunho could tell you felt defeated, “please just take me with you.” if he didn’t feel guilty enough, he definitely felt bad now. “cap, maybe we should take her.”

hongjoong gave him an odd look, clearly bewildered, “you were the one who insisted on leaving her.” “yeah well, i kinda feel bad for her now. she’ll stay with us for a few days maximum then we’ll just drop her off somewhere,” yunho briefly glanced at you, lowering his voice now, “i mean, maybe she really can’t leave. what, are we just going to dump her here?”

“i say we make her a deal,” yeosang chimed in, “she can live with us until we locate a nearby island, but if we arrive and it ends up being a bad one, she can’t argue and climb back aboard.” hongjoong nodded approvingly, “yeah, that sounds good.”

yunho watched as your face lit up when he repeated their deal to you. he silently swore to himself to always bring happiness to you during your stay if it meant he could catch a glimpse of your endearing smile again.

≡☆

yunho had volunteered to wrap up the cut on your arm you earned from san’s shove, despite seonghwa usually being the one to tend to the crew’s injuries. he led you down the stairs and to the medical room (which, really, was just their meeting room with a medical kit placed on the table), kicking away scraps of used bandages to the corner, praying you didn’t see them.

as he sat you down opposite him and began prepping the bandages, he began to wonder about you. where were your parents? how did you manage to come onto the island? why did you not have friends? what-

“you look like you have questions.” his gaze snapped up from your arm to your eyes, “no i- well, yeah, kind of.” you laughed lightly, “it’s okay, i get it. i’d be confused too.” yunho hoped you took the redness tainting his cheeks as embarrassment from being caught rather than his giddiness from your laugh. he motioned for you as he got started on wrapping your arm.

“i used to live on a different island, where my parents were. i met this guy, chan, and after being friends with him for a year or so, he offered to take me on a trip with his seven friends. i agreed. i honestly don’t know why i did. it was a spur of the moment thing. i followed him to the docks, where his ship was. turns out he’s a pirate and he’s the captain, much like your crew, actually.

“they said they wanted to go find some ‘treasures’, i just assumed they were joking around. they said they wanted to find an hourglass, i think one of the crew, hyunbin or whatever, said it belonged to his father. i remembered having heard some legends about it, and offered to lead the way. we searched for months, and finally found it on this island.

“when we arrived, they began arguing over who got to have it; they all had a different timeline in mind. someone wanted to go find their dead parents, someone wanted to rescue their girlfriend, it was- it was a lot,” you closed your eyes, throwing your head back, “we weren’t even from this timeline, for fuck’s sake! they fucked with the cromer as soon as they got their grubby hands on it, knowing damn well it was a full moon! i don’t even know what happened, to be honest, either that, or i can’t remember. it doesn’t matter. i don’t want to anyway.

“i think it’s something to do with the stupid hourglass. my theory is it passes down ownership to whomever it deems worthy to hold it, eliminating the past owners. that’s how i ended up alone. i tell myself they each left one by one, but it still bothers me how cursed magic like that exists. i don’t know, the whole thing’s really messed up. i guess being the holder gives you power to hide or expose it to others, because, well, as you saw, i could play around with its surroundings.” yunho hummed, taking in all the information.

he tightened the knot on your bandage, breathing out through his nose and rocking on his chair, “well, now that i know a lot about you, ask me anything you want.” “anything?” you lifted your head up again, eyes wide. yunho smiled, “yeah.” you leaned forward, head resting against your palms, “how are you so cute?”

yunho began spluttering, rocking a bit too far back on his chair, nearly falling over until you grabbed his hand, laughing at his reaction. as soon as he steadied himself, he yanked his hand away, feeling like his entire skin was on fire. you had a proud grin on your face, “i’m playing with you. though, really, you are cute.” he was genuinely convinced right then and there that you were the human form of heaven itself with the way his heart was palpitating.

the only dilemma yunho was having with himself was the fact that you couldn’t stay with them.

he liked to think that you shared the same thought as him.

≡☆

somehow, hours later, yunho found himself next to you on the beach, admiring the sunset from afar. “i haven’t had company in ages,” you commented, “it’s nice. especially since it’s you.” yunho had really wanted to kick his feet and giggle over your bold words, but he opted for a light chuckle.

“do you ever miss your old timeline? or dimension, or however you say it,” he regretted his words instantly at the sad look on your face. “all the time. i had a boyfriend, you know? he tried to stop me from going. i ignored him out of spite because of the amount of arguments we got into before i left. they were mostly to do with chan, he never trusted him, and neither should i have.”

yunho ignored the new, strange sense of jealousy he was feeling, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “you wouldn’t have known.” you only gave a weak smile in response. “so tell me about your boyfriend.” you stiffened up slightly before relaxing again. if yunho wasn’t staring at you, he would’ve missed it entirely.

“well, he was the sweetest guy i’ve ever met. people compared him to a puppy all the time because of his energy,” you hesitated, “he had dyed blond-ish hair, a cute smile, a great sense of humour. he was tall, and was really popular. he always knew just how to cheer me up when i was down. he was considerate, caring, kind, he was everything.” yunho felt himself slowly getting upset. how could he ever compare to him? he sounded perfect.

“jealous?” you teased, nudging him. “not at all,” yunho rolled his eyes, playing with his compass again. he watched your eyes lower onto the very object, a soft look in them. “of course you still have it,” you murmured. “what?” yunho furrowed his brows. had he heard correctly? “it’s nothing.”

≡☆

nighttime rolled around and eventually all of them gathered around; yunho had found himself subconsciously scooting closer to you, landing himself a knowing look from mingi.

while your eyes connected with the flames yeosang started minutes ago, yunho couldn’t help but admire every inch of your carefully sculpted face. it was funny, wasn’t it? how he, at first, hated your overconfident demeanour, your demanding character, your addictive voice, your adorable laugh… huh. maybe he’d never hated you.

“so are you guys going to hide it now that you have to wait to use it?” you tilted your head curiously, and yunho wanted to choke a fistful of sand down his throat to contain the squeals that were threatening to bubble up with how absolutely beautiful you were. he shrugged, “most likely.” “the full moon’s in three days. where would you hiding it for three days?” “up san’s ass,” wooyoung laughed, before getting smacked by san.

yunho couldn’t bring himself to laugh at wooyoung’s immature joke. not when he now knew that he never had a chance with you to begin with.

but hearing your contagious laughter made him think of how lucky he was to have met you at all.

≡☆

“i know you, yunho, and i know you like her-” “like is an exaggeration.” seonghwa rolled his eyes, “just listen to me. she’s not going to be staying with us for long, and if you keep giving yourself a chance to get to know her, you’ll end up getting heartbroken.” “but isn’t that the point? maybe, when we use the cromer and get to a different dimension, maybe we can be together there…” he trailed off at how ridiculous he sounded. “that’s not how it works, and you know it,” seonghwa’s tone was now stern, almost to the point of telling yunho off.

“she clearly likes me too, can’t we at least enjoy the little amount of time we have together?” mingi tossed an arm around yunho from behind, “i say go for it.” “of course you’d say that,” seonghwa tsked, before continuing, “i’m asking you, as part of your crew, and your friend, to think this through.” “i am thinking this through!” yunho insisted, “i’d rather go through a heavy heartbreak than leave her with a bunch of ‘what if’s. i really do like her, seong-”

“no, you’re thinking this with your plan of finding her in a different timeline. yunho, you can’t do that. do you know how risky that is? ignoring the fact how we’ve only known her for a day too!” “of course i know,” he hissed, “but i don’t care how risky it is. i’m doing it.” “love at first sight, some might say,” mingi patted yunho’s shoulder. “oh, don’t get him started on love now,” seonghwa groaned. “love is a stretch, but i definitely find her interesting enough to want to be with her.” “just say you like her, yunho. everyone and their mothers can hear your giggles at night in your room,” hongjoong teased.

yunho’s face flushed, “i don’t giggle!” with that, he left the tiny crowd and stormed off to the meeting room. to his surprise, you were sitting at his regular seat, examining his compass. he left it there?

“so you want to be with me?” you raised an eyebrow, running a thumb over the quote the same way yunho does. “what- no?” yunho scoffed, taking a seat beside you. “i heard you guys. you get loud when you’re defensive. it’s okay, it’s cute.” yunho was at a loss for words. grasping for straws to change the topic, he gestured to the compass, “why did you say something like ‘i still have it’?”

you grew silent, and yunho thought you hadn’t heard him. he was about to repeat his question when you opened your mouth to answer, “i knew you, jeong yunho.” he flinched at the full name coming out of your mouth, “how…” “in my timeline. i knew you.”

you had the same stiff posture as you did on the beach, and yunho recalled what you were talking about during that time, “your boyfriend…” “yeah.” suddenly it all made sense. the dyed blond hair, the puppy personality, tall… yunho had heard every single one of them.

“we were together?” his voice was barely above a whisper. you nodded sadly, a bittersweet smile plastered, “i never got to say sorry for not believing you.” “well, at least i got an apology now,” he wrapped his hand around yours, the compass in between your interlocked fingers, and the cromer, your chance of a new happily ever after, placed on the table just centimetres away.

networks - @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films

[starsnores]

Ok so. I wanted to share a wip of what I was working on for the prisoner au fic. I do really wanna write more for it, I’m just. Very stuck. Writing things and then deleting them, really chasing my own tail. Writers block? I feel like I’m very bad at stringing the little scenes or ideas I have together into something bigger. But I do like how this next part was coming out and idk. Part of me hopes that talking about it more will encourage me to work on it. Bc I liked talking about my aus and stuff and I haven’t in a while. This is supposed to be a very, very rough start to the next chapter.

Rough fabric chafed his chitin. The clothes he’d been given were almost as threadbare as the old tshirt now lying on the floor at his feet. He had scrambled away from the clown, locking himself in the ablution chamber. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there. Rummaging through the drawers and cabinets hadn’t turned up anything useful, would have no way to hide it if he had, didn’t even have underwear to tuck something into. Karkat wondered if they still had his things or if it had all been incinerated already. He could hear gamzee on the other side of the door, moving with slow heavy steps, evidently not worried about him, at all. How long could he stay in here, avoiding the inevitable. He couldn’t stop the clown from dragging him out if he wanted.

The door hissed as it slid open, and the first thing he saw was Gamzee perched on the back of the couch. In the time that Karkat had locked himself in the abultion chamber he had changed, dressed in an initiate subjugglator uniform, boldly patterned but far less ostentatious then other branches of the cult. It made the sharp angles of his body appear that much more dangerous.

Gamzes eyes flicked toward him, and the fine hairs on his neck stood on end.

"You done, motherfucker?"

Karkat crossed his arms over his chest, still feeling naked, "Yeah. You’re r leaving?”

"We got shit to do. C'mere."

"What do you mean ‘we’?”

Gamzee was already stalking forward something in his hand. Karkat flinched back but Gamzee moved faster, dropping onto a knee and grabbing his foot, throwing him off balance. Karkat reached to steady himself on the first thing his hands could find, tangling his fingers in Gamzee’s wild hair.

He was gently laced into a pair of sandals, and he tried not to shiver at the feeling if cold calloused hands cupping his ankle.

"Never knew they made fuckers as tiny as you."

Karkat thought about ripping the curls from his head.

When he finished he herded Karkat out of the front door. The door clicked as it slid shut behind them. “That’s it? You’re not going to put me on a leash or something?”

The clown shrugged. “Ain’t really got to. You can wander off if you’d like, just don’t think most juggalos would take to kindly to a mutant poking around where he shouldn’t be.” He turned down the corridor and, after a moment, Karkat followed.

The further Gamzee took him out of the hab blocks the more crowded it became. He had never seen so many of the cult in one place, had avoided seeing this many at all costs. Most didn’t seem to notice him. Something less than not caring, their eyes bouncing off of him as he trailed behind gamzee. A few, though, stared openly. Like they were trying to peel back his skin.

Hiding his blood color was habit, but he hadn’t felt this conscious of it in perigrees. Too much time spent alone, maybe.

He tried to keep pace with Gamzee, his long strides carried him far even at his leisurely pace, and karkat was still fatigued by his injuries. He felt like he was chasing after his lusus again. He hated it.

[acrazyartist]

Thought to Be Dead AU

Submas Angst technically? I think.

Accidentally made this while daydreaming. Oops. Anyways! I’m willing to answer questions about it

This is my first time posting something like this so 🙏 please be nice…?

————————————————

One day, there’s a newcomer to the Hisui region. Someone that was supposed to be familiar and welcomed with open arms from another.

But wasn’t

And what happens when one remembers fragments of the good and the other remembers fragments of the bad?

————

Ingo, every time he visits the Icelands to visit the Pearl Clan Settlement, a Zoroark always tries to lure him in. It has become habit, clockwork. Ever since the very first day of being in this land.

He has come to detest the illusions, never able to reach the terminal at which his lost memories are for the face he’s shown every time. The illusions have become too much with how certain they are to happen, almost as if he is a beacon of shining light to the Zoroark

One of these times turned wrong. Eventually. Ingo was tired of it, frustrated and tired of seeing a face he could not place a name to and was always a lie. And he fought back against an illusion in despair, saying some things he would never repeat to the actual face of the person he misses so dearly, after firing off an attack from his Gliscor, who in the moment trusted its trainer to not think twice.

He returns back to the Pearl Clan Settlement after, tired and just wanting rest. He has always assumed it was the same Zoroark or the same pack. It was too much to where he had to tell Irida

So she scouts it out with Gaeric and another few. Just to see if it bore a death or they had to prepare for a possible counter attack.

In the spot where Ingo had fought back against a so called Zoroark she finds something. But does not find the Zoroark, instead she finds a single white scrap of fabric with a brown line that is very like Ingo’s coats but white tainted with blood and the splat of blood staining white snow red dragging along further into Zoroark territory.

Horrified, they realize Ingo had not killed or even driven off a Zoroark… but rather a person. Zoroark’s do not bleed that shade of red, nor do they leave items behind if they perish.

They know he means well, and that Ingo is not the first to have done something like this, in a sense… but it would kill the man to know he had done something to a human being.

Irida gives the final say, they will not speak of this. Only say they gave the Pokemon a proper rite, and nothing more. That life was in Almighty Sinnoh’s hands now, it was too dark out and it was too dangerous…

They do not notice the Gear Station emblem that had a scrap of fabric, hanging from a lonely branch.

If only.

————

Meanwhile deep in the Icelands, someone stumbles to a stop, hands clutching their chest and head as bitterness and confusion roll off them in waves.

Emmet stands alone, the only reason he’s even still moving in the freezing cold and leaking blood is the simple thing called; The Indomitable Human Spirit.

How could he? He cared! He looked and he… he did, didn’t he? Everything felt so fuzzy at the moment but he pushed on. Had to find shelter. Had to patch his wounds. Had to live

He would not die here, may he be damned if he did.

Something else found him before he found anyone else, a few lone Zoroark’s on a hunt. While weary of humans and bitter, this one seemed different.

It smelled like them, bitterness rolling off it in waves with the blood that soaked the snow. It reminded them of their deaths.

He even looked like them! White and red, or something akin to red. He must’ve been one of their own using an illusion, right?

But he still smelled different. Perhaps humans could persist after death like they could if bitter enough? They did not know, but it continued wandering despite the somewhat grievous wounds it bore.

Eventually, one of the Zoroark approached him, curious. The human looked startled for a moment, taking a step back before the Zoroark simply held out a paw.

It accepted without hesitation, and with that, the Zoroark’s whisked the human that seemed like them off to their den, to treat and care for.

————

The human lived. It learned fast and healed fast too.

That was good. It became one of their own soon enough. It carried bitterness that did not wane. They made a mask for him, to let him know and be known that he was one of theirs.

After all… when your memories become scrambled and all you remember is the bad and being taken in by beings of bitterness…

It makes you like them.

Living on just the pure bitterness.

————

And Ingo was left none the wiser, for now.

But he thinks he’s haunted.

He keeps finding carved items, and other belongings. He could swear the Zoroark’s are following him to the highlands and leaving items behind…

In that same illusion.

[uhblyat]

Hi everyone!! I ' ve already posted this fic on ao3 and ficbook , but i I thought it would be nice to post it here too. I bet it's not an explicit content, but it's half of it😆😆

Closer to five in the morning, the summer gentle sun rose, awakening the sensitive nature outside the window. It slid along the trunks and branches of trees, casting long black shadows on the ground; the outlines of objects in the apartment become clearer under the influence of the rays. The fresh morning air replaced the oppressive atmosphere of the night, which no longer had any right to host: the rare roll call of birds mixed with the rustle of green foliage literally took your breath away, creating a feeling of serenity. Such a soft, warm, and genuine morning. The very beginning of the day, when the forces fill your soul, breathing in hope and carrying it through the doubts of the mind. The waves have washed away the footprints in the sand, and the wind is singing its strange song. Meanwhile, Aleksi is not sleeping either: an unknown force lifts him out of bed and calls him to action: in this case, you need to wake up the Olli with the miracle phrase "Are you asleep???" when he sees the tenth dream, but Kaunisvesi decides that only a kiss from a loved one awakens the princess, so he bends down and carefully covers his lips with Matela's, after which he whispers softly in his ear,

—Get up, stop sleeping,— and while he turns around, pointing out about twenty ways where Aleksi can go early now, the percussionist attentively silently watches from the side, not even thinking about ending the torture. Of course, his boyfriend is interested in what the fuck Aleksi is lifting him up for, to which Kaunisvesi waves him off and literally jumps out of bed,

— I came up with something ,Olli, it's just awful how cool, get up, please, we need to do everything just now, while the sun is not at its zenith and Mercury is not Retrograde, come on, please, please, you love me, and brazenly presses on a weak spot, already triumphant in his thoughts about victory and anticipating the upcoming aesthetic delight. Ten minutes later, the bassist throws off the blanket, gets out of bed and slowly, barely stepping over, crawls into the bathroom, and Aleksi, almost bouncing, follows from behind. A plaid falls on Olli's broad shoulders while he swears at this hateful day and no less, at the moment, an annoying little boy who literally erases the last day off from a busy Matela. Kaunisvesi decides that the best way out of the situation at the moment is to escape from an angry man and quickly clean up the mess in the kitchen, because curly is unlikely to appreciate such cleanliness and will definitely force the little one to make a cocktail with Mr. Proper.

It takes only twenty minutes to do this: skillful hands quickly wipe the plates with a sponge and rinse the mugs; immediately putting the dishes in their place. When the water stops flowing almost simultaneously in the bathroom and in the kitchen, something clicks in the dark-haired man's brain and he leaves for a second, bringing two stools into the shower, placing one after the other. On the first one, which is closer to the mirror, he seats Olli, whose face clearly expresses misunderstanding, and he settles on the second piece of furniture, burying his fingers in curls and fingering them. A hand reaches out to a white cabinet and takes out different jars— Alexiarchy has long reigned in this house, which means that all the shelves will be filled with different bottles of his intricately shaped care products, they will definitely not fit into one compartment and will be scattered in different drawers. In one of the palms there is a silver spray bottle with varnish, and in the other, which becomes momentarily free, a wooden comb with sparse teeth. Kauniswesi lifts up a little to see Matela in the mirror, and begins to comb his hair, sometimes twisting and pushing the strands in different directions to make sure his decisions about the hairstyle are correct. The percussionist notices out of the corner of his eye how the victim of his bullying is struggling He tries not to fall asleep, barely opening his eyelids, and this, of course, flatters, forcing him to take pity and do everything faster, speeding up the process of freeing the prisoner of inexhaustible ideas. The comb turns out to be in his teeth, and his fingers fix the hair in the right position, immediately patching the curl,

—Hold your breath for a second, please,—Aleksi asks and continues to fasten the curls. Having achieved the desired effect of elevation after a while, the guy begins to work on the main part of the head, now kneeling on a chair. Conjuring over the patches for another half hour and, finally, having finished with the image for them, Kaunisvesi proceeds to probably his most favorite thing: on the dressing table there are pallets and various tubes with viscous contents, unknown to anyone. The dark—haired man moves to Olli's hips and stays there, throwing his leg over, hinting at the hopelessness of the situation, — I'll put some shadows here and that's it, honestly, - lies, and brazenly and to his face. Actually, as always. Soft brushes soon and often fall on the skin of the face, creating a dark haze, the moist core of the eyeliner touches the place below the mucous membrane, in the area of eyelash growth, and draws the curve of the eye, focusing on the lower eyelid. A couple more strokes, a couple of drooling cotton swabs—Olli doesn't disdain, does he? And thank the gods, as well as the ruined disks: now, Aleksi is not sitting in front of a familiar lover, but a godlike lover, which is what Kaunisvesi was trying to achieve. After admiring his work for a minute or two, the guy notices the missing element and goes after yesterday's parcel, grabbing scissors and hastily cutting the cardboard along with the tape. All sorts of rubbish almost falls to the floor, and the percussionist sits down, now carefully examining the ordered items.The gaze immediately clings to a metal replica of a thorn wreath with thorns, so he quickly unpacks it and hooks it on Matela's head. After sending the stalls with the request "Do we have at least something to chew?!", Kaunisvesi decides to take care of himself and takes off his robe, completely exposing himself and sitting in front of the mirror.

With a large brush, he randomly applies black pigment to the neck and collarbones, enters the chest and shades the edges. Now he is dirty, smeared and at the same time vulgar. A cold chain helps to add peppercorns to the image: it is attached just below the adam's apple, thin stripes flow in different directions from the middle, imitating the bones of the ribs, and the catchy hanging stones on the solar plexus cannot leave indifferent even those far from art. Aleksi's eyelid makeup is extremely different: a neat haze turns into bold strokes, now flaunting on the blind furrow, temples are also decorated with shadows; eyebrows are laid with gel and clear boundaries of their shape are drawn. The image creates a feeling of complete rebellion, avant-garde and a pinch of sharpness; it remains to add pity to the look and form a nest on the head, which Kaunisvesi, of course, did an excellent job with.

The aroma of fresh coffee wafts from the kitchen, and even among these tart notes, a dark-haired man can catch the smell of unique classics: sandwiches made of rye bread, processed cheese and cucumber along with tomatoes. And there's a hunting sausage on top, but a little bit of it so that it's not greasy. Bare feet barely move on the floor, and the guy is already peering through the door jamb, closely watching Matela's actions. He, as the most caring and gentle chosen one, prepares the table for a meal and lays out kitchen appliances, while Aleksi, in his place, would simply throw the dish in his face and fork along with it, calmly saying "Fuck you" and hiding in another room. But no, in the place of such an ignoramus, the kind Olli, who will serve food, and wipe his mouth, and kiss his forehead, — and meanwhile, the dark-haired man was already sitting his ass at the table,— there is more in the house than a guy who clearly does not want to learn manners. — And what are we going to do?,— it comes from another part of the kitchen and Kaunisvesi looks up from the food, looking at her lover,

— So, listen, only carefully! You are my god, I am your sinner. You are the arbiter of earthly destinies, who noticed another mortal for violating the laws and subsequently arranged for him to be judged in heaven. Like the ancient Greek goddess Themis, only in an improved version,"eating a sandwich, Aleksi sometimes stopped to chew food,

—Do you know her? Themis was an ancient Greek goddess associated with divine law, order and justice. She was known for her sharp mind and impartiality, acting as the personification of justice with scales in one hand and blindfolded, which enhanced the effect of a cold mind. She was also associated with wisdom, because indirectly she controlled divination and clairvoyance. And, of course, in front of me, a violator of all the rules, you couldn't resist. Don't worry, nothing below the torso will be visible, at the level of the end of the ribs at most,— grinning, he bypasses Olli's sidelong glance and reproach about clothes, washes down pieces of coffee with milk and rises from his seat,

—I really wanted us to have a beautiful shared photo. And so I can't shame you by just taking a picture of us kissing against the background of some boring nature,— coming closer and tracing the outline of Matela's nose with the tip of her finger, Aleksi smiles and takes her partner's hand,

—Let's go?

Both are standing on a white background in the bedroom, Kaunisvesi is constantly running, fussing and putting a small mirror in front of the couple soon standing together. Having straightened his hair several times and tousled it even more, he stares at the reflection, poses and moves to the deputy of Themis, starting to build up his position,

—So you take this in your left hand, and holds out a sophisticated golden scale, on the pallet of which there are rose petals, — note, only on one side, — Extend your arm, do not bend at the elbow. Lower. Even lower. Now bend over and come to me a little bit. Yeah, put your finger on the long beam and make the scales unbalanced so that the part with the flowers hangs down. Here! Great, you 're doing well. Look straight at the camera, a stern, confident look. Well, no, not like you're ready to kill me, on the contrary, — when a percussionist thinks about his eyes, he completely forgets about the bandage and takes it out of the piled things. It has already collapsed and got dirty, but this apparently does not bother the guy,

—Stand still, — and places the fabric around his neck in an untied state. The ends of the tattered rags fall on the right shoulder, it does not waver at all from touching and Aleksi unconditionally likes it ,— THAT'S RIGHT!!! Bring your eyebrows together a little, the corners of your lips go down a little. Just a relaxed state, okay? Well, don't lower your lower jaw too much, just close your teeth inside. Now put your right hand on my chin, as if hugging me from below. And hold it, lifting it a little towards you. I'll look up to you, you don't react. The palm falls to the right place and slightly squeezes the convex bone, and Kaunisvesi follows his own plan, and, now staring so pitifully, helplessly and sadly, bites his lower lip at the last moment. The timer goes off after ten seconds and the photo is immediately saved on the device, the dark—haired man hurries to look at the result and admires the picture he took,

—Look, we turned out so good here, it's just so sexy, even multiplied by ten to the third power! Well, judge for yourself, — showing the result to Olli, Aleksi stares so hard that his smile doesn't crack at the seams, "Wait,maybe another one?" — and when the lover gives up, realizing that there is hardly any more If they manage to protest, the percussionist puts the camera back and sets the time for the picture. While Matela does not have time to come to his senses, Kaunisvesi stands on tiptoes and wraps his arms around his neck, clinging to a silk beige fabric that artfully flows over his body; arching his lower back and fixing himself in one position while he kisses his chosen one for the second time in a day; and even very cheekily, as a real sinner should, licking his own with the tip sticky drooling from his lower lip; and he is amused by this, because power over God is inherent only to the creator, but here the soul was taken over by a vicious earthly one who does not know what he is doing. The click symbolizes the photo taken, Aleksi does not want to pull away, but he has to. After looking at the result, he grins and stretches contentedly, hanging himself around his neck again,

—But I'll put the last frame on my wallpaper. And you have to do the same with the first one, don't worry, I remember that you're shy,— Kaunisvesi runs his fingers over the back of his head, feels the literally frozen curls and slightly bows his head,

—What if people'd look at your lockscreen? And here is such a shame, such a perversion… Anyway, I'll edit it on my laptop, transfer it later and send it, okay? You're my most beautiful,— Alex said, running his hand over Olli's cheek, then smeared his shadows a little, drawing thin lines down,

—Let me take a picture of you?

[in-the-shadow-of-the-blog]

Under the Mistletoe with Garreth

Summary: It's Christmas, and there's mistletoe everywhere! Except... anywhere MC goes with Garreth? (Garreth Weasley x f!MC)

Rating: PG

Words: 700

—

All over Hogwarts, students were hanging mistletoe. Above doorways, halls, staircases, and classrooms, anywhere they might be able to steal a kiss from the object of their affections.

Yet everywhere MC seemed to go, it was nowhere to be found. Though she tried to walk with Garreth in places she thought it would be, but whenever they were out together, it was as if it had all simply disappeared.

MC decided to follow the example of other students and take matters into her own hands. She met Garreth outside the common room, as they often did since they started courting, and he immediately noticed what she held.

"What are you doing with that?"

Garreth's eyes shifted suspiciously as he looked at the mistletoe in her hands.

"Er... I was just going to hang it in-"

"Don't!" Garreth exclaimed. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean... Can I have it? I need it for a potion."

MC raised an eyebrow. "You can't get it somewhere else?"

Why was it so important to take it away from her?

"I, uh... Need a lot of it. It's a complex potion."

"Garreth, are you the reason mistletoe has been disappearing all over Hogwarts?"

"No."

Garreth's cheeks matched his hair as he realized he'd answered far too quickly.

MC folded her arms. "Garreth, what are you up to?"

"Nothing!" Garreth held up his hands, insisting on his innocence.

MC wasn't convinced. She could almost hear Professor Sharp yelling already.

"Well, I best be off," Garreth announced with an awkward smile. "Don't forget! You promised to go foraging with me tomorrow. Horklumps and such."

"I haven't forgotten."

"Good!" Flashing a cheerful grin, Garreth grabbed the mistletoe from MC's hands. "See you then!"

MC blinked at the blur of red hair and black robes as Garreth disappeared into a throng of students.

—

"Garreth, where exactly are we going?" MC ducked under yet another branch as he led her further into the trees.

"Don't worry, almost there!" Garreth's cheery voice called back. MC wasn't sure he was so chipper. It was an overcast day, absolutely freezing, clouds heavy with a promise of snow. But Garreth's attitude was more like a summer's day: sunshine and soft breezes and warmth.

"I'm pretty sure there are more convenient places to find horklumps," MC mumbled.

"Come on, MC! Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Back at Hogwarts, where it's warm."

"It'll be worth it, I promise. Just in this clearing."

Garreth sped up, running ahead. "Garreth! Wait!" MC cried, trying to keep up.

MC finally burst from the trees and into the clearing, coming to a sudden stop. What in Merlin's name...?

"Ta dah!" Garreth announced, grinning at MC's reaction.

In the clearing was an arch completely covered in mistletoe. The leaves swayed in the frosty air,

"Garreth, what is this?"

"Well, at first I just didn't want anyone stealing your heart under the mistletoe. Then I was waiting for the right time. After that... I got a little carried away." Garreth took MC's hand, pulling her closer to the arch.

"So you were never even working on a potion?"

"Sure I was." Garreth waggled his eyebrows. "A love potion."

MC laughed as she stepped beneath the mistletoe arch, eyes shining. "Come get your kiss, then."

His hands found her waist, and he leaned in with a smile. "I think all this mistletoe entitles me to more than one, don't you?"

MC arched a playful eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Mhmm." Garreth brushed his lips against her cheek. "One here... and here... there..." Her forehead, temple, the frozen tip of her nose.

They were both smiling when Garreth pulled her close against him. He leaned back to look into her eyes.

"And here, of course." Garreth pressed his lips against hers.

Warmth bloomed in MC's chest as their lips met, her heart fluttering. She wrapped her arms around his neck, no longer feeling the cold like she was before.

They finally parted, hearts racing, breathless. Garreth cupped MC's cheek, stroking her rosy skin with his thumb.

"Do you want to come visit my family with me for Christmas?"

MC couldn't help but grin. "Yes. I'd like that."

"Excellent!" Garreth beamed. "This will be the best Christmas ever."

He leaned in for one more kiss, not letting a single moment under the arch go to waste.

—

Masterlist

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - Wives of Shor I: Moth to Flame

❤️❤️❤️tagged by @dirty-bosmer and @thana-topsy ❤️❤️❤️ tagging @gilgamish @nientedenada and @tallmatcha

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: T (entire fic is E) Category: M/M Pairing: Kaidan/Lucien Flavius Genre(s): Romance (bodice-rippers my beloveds), bildungsroman Other main characters: Inigo the Brave, she/her Breton LDB

Summary: A scene from near the beginning of the fic - Kaidan has something he needs to do before the party sets off for Bleak Falls Barrow. Lucien Flavius is by Joseph Russell, Kaidan is by Liv Templeton, and Inigo the Brave is by SmartBlueCat.

25 Last Seed, 4E 401 Whiterun's streets were shrouded in mist, the few lanterns still burning at this hour casting halos of light in the gloom when Kaidan stepped out of the Bannered Mare. Tucking his cloak around himself, he walked quickly towards the stairs leading to the Wind District. Given how long it took Lucien and Pascale to prepare themselves in the morning on the road, he estimated he had a good hour at the earliest before they made their appearance at the stables.

The lanterns on the doorposts of the Temple of Kynareth were lit, and the door was unlocked. The inner atrium of the temple itself was lit only by the votive sconces flanking the shrine of Kynareth at the far wall. Not wanting to disturb any sleeping patients or clerics, Kaidan moved around the outside of the atrium, but did not find what he was looking for.

"May I help you, child of Kynareth?"

Kaidan whirled, coming face to face with Danica Pure-Spring, who was holding a lamp and had clearly just risen from bed, her robe ungirdled and hair thrown over her shoulders in long twin braids.

"I did not mean to wake you at this hour Sister, I apologize," he whispered. "I came seeking Kyne's blessing."

Squinting at him in the dark, a flicker of recognition crossed Danica's face. "You're the one who brought poor Hadvar to the jarl - so you're accompanying him on that errand of Farengar's?" When Kaidan nodded she said, "I would be happy to give you a blessing." Danica turned and walked toward the Shrine of Kynareth at the far wall of the temple. "I have a traveler's amulet for you as well if-" She stopped talking and turned to look at Kaidan quizzically when she realized he was not following her. "Is something the matter?"

Kaidan glanced around the Temple. It looked just like every other temple of Kynareth he had seen during his travels in Cyrodiil and beyond.

"I would like a blessing of Kyne, Sister."

Understanding dawned on Danica's face. "I see, I see. I don't get asked for those much, especially with the Gildergreen...well. Unfortunately with the expansion of the healing wing the shrine to Kyne we had outside was removed, and never replaced. But we will do it properly, don't worry. The Goddess of Storms doesn't need anything made by man's hands to work her wonders. Meet me under the Gildergreen, and unsheathe your blade."

Nodding once, Kaidan turned and left the temple.

He almost kept walking past the twisted, scarred trunk of the Gildergreen. He must have incredible depth of hubris to ask for Kyne's blessings after turning his back on all of Brynjar's teachings - and instead of doing it properly, he was going to be doing it in the middle of a city, under a dead tree, with a priestess who prayed to Kynareth.

Despite these thoughts, Kaidan took off his cloak and knelt beneath the Gildergreen's boughs, facing the Throat of the World. He carefully unsheathed his nodachi, placing the scabbard in front of him, and laying the bare blade across his legs.

Below him, the buildings of the Plains District seemed like islands in a sea of thick fog, and to the east the first blush of dawn was chasing the stars away from the horizon. A lark began to sing in the branches above him.

Repeatedly Kaidan tried to still his thoughts and center himself, but every time he attempted to begin a breathing exercise, his thoughts would turn to Brynjar, and a sharp pang of guilt would lodge in his chest.

"Are you ready, my child?" Danica approached, her vestments in place and priest's cowl now covering her sleep-mussed hair.

"I- I don't know, Sister."

Danica paused, but did no speak, waiting for Kaidan to continue.

"I haven't prayed to Her in...a long time. I don't know if Kyne will hear me."

For a long moment, the only sounds were the rushing of water in the aqueducts and the lark still heralding the dawn, heedless of the two humans below his perch.

"It's not my place to say what She will or will not do. But-" Danica moved to stand before him and placed her hands gently on his hair as Kaidan bowed his head. "I am reminded of the story of Keeper Ormi, who turned her back on Kyne when she thought the Goddess had abandoned her sons in war. She was so given over to grief that she turned to daedra-worship, and became a hagraven. She desecrated Kyne's sacred trees, and led her priestesses astray. And yet the Goddess welcomed her back when she repented, and returned her to human form. Do not presume to have done such terrible works that She is unable to grant you Her peace."

Danica's words brought some measure of comfort, and Kaidan was able to quiet his doubts as she began the blessing.

"Widow of Shor, Blessed Warrior-Wife, May this man's blade be as swift as your storms, And sharp as your winds.

"Sister-Hawk, he is your sword and your shield, Use him to safeguard those under his care." "Mother of Men and Beasts, Do not draw your veil against him as he travels, Bring peace to the wild things, that they will not bare their fangs to him."

"Kiss-at-the-End, if he should fall, May he meet you with honor untarnished, And carry him safely to Shor's Hall."

As Danica finished Kaidan felt her place something over his neck. When he opened his eyes and looked down, he saw a small scrimshaw pendant hanging from a leather thong, covered in flowing spirals and flanked by two hawk talons.

The last time he had seen one of these was when they had burned it with Brynjar's body.

He stood suddenly, knowing he had to leave immediately if he was to retain any of his dignity. "Thank you, Sister."

"Your journey awaits," Danica smiled at him. "Wind guide you."

Kaidan refastened his cloak and pulled his hood up as he descended the stairs, leaving the Gildergreen and Danica behind. By the time he reached the main gates, his cheeks were dry and the amulet was safely tucked under his tunic, the weathered bone warm against his heart.

[obae-me]

Tainted Reflections- CH 12

Start This Story From The Beginning 

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Like Sands In An Hourglass

MAJOR Warning: This chapter contains Blood, Violence, Gore, Body Horror, Disturbing Imagery. 

As Always, Read Safely. 

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Fake lips were inches from your face, the two empty voids peering at you, the creature’s neck stretching around a tree just to observe you. You remained frozen, mouth open, stuck in place with fear. Would you even have had time to stand up before it cut you down? Was this how it all ended? All hope…devoured with you. The feathers across the creature’s body fluttered and twitched as the light from the mask was trained onto you. “Ahhhh…” It seemed to sing, to chitter, the magic hitting the back of your head and twisting the note into a hum with the sound of Simeon’s voice. Then something happened. One of the runes engraved into the mask flashed a blue, changing the light shining down on you with it. It was a soft sapphire tone. The mask twisted, neck rotating, turning far too much to be normal, the head completely upside down. Was it…confused? 

A wild blur of black and white rushed by you, the next second followed by an unholy scream. Well, perhaps that wasn’t quite accurate. This, by all accounts, was a rather literal holy scream. The creature’s neck snapped back into position, flailing, the sound it was making was as if a thousand different birds all cried out at the same time. Belphie jumped back, letting go of the sharpened branch he had just impaled into the creature’s neck. But if either of you assumed doing such a feat would be enough to kill it, you would both be wrong. It’s a good thing neither of you considered it would be so easily defeated. Belphie ran over to you just in time to miss the creature swing one of its blade-legs, picking you up and beginning your running once more. Only, neither of you got very far before he suddenly let go of you, pushing you away from him as he started sprinting in the opposite direction. 

You knew he had noticed the strange behavior. Besides, he knew more about this thing than you did. He was going to…no…“Belphie!” 

“Meet me at the house!” He shouted back, the creature’s spotlight narrowing as it moved from hunting down the both of you to only him. It almost trampled you in the process, swiveling towards him. “I’ll draw it away! Just run! Promise me you’ll run!” He looked back over his shoulder, his usual tired or neutral face twisted into one you’d wished you’d never seen before. Desperation. You took a few steps back, heading back towards the way you came. Belphie smiled before turning his head away from you, sprinting faster off through the trees, the sin eater barreling through after him. 

And before you knew it, you were alone again. 

Anxiety, bewilderment, fear, exhaustion, everything raced through your mind all at once, doing so at the same speed your feet were moving at. Following the mess you’d all made through the snow, you made your way back to where you’d first seen the demon be killed. That was when you finally stopped, stomach churning at the sight. Would Belphie…survive? That was a question you thought you’d never have to ask. The demon brothers, the people you knew were all so strong, even magical mishaps were more of an inconvenience than anything. No one and nothing ever posed much of a threat to them aside from amongst themselves. Belphie had looked so frightened…and his face when he’d told you to run…like he was content. 

All the sudden, searing pain ran through you, flaring at Belphie’s pact mark. You fell to your knees, gasping for breath, almost vomiting. No. No, no, no, no. NO. That didn’t mean…that wasn’t…you fumbled with your words, with your breath, remaining calm enough to speak. “H-ear me, de-denizens of-of darkness, you who are– who are born of shadow and you who give b-birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! I, MC, call upon you to send forth one of your n-number! I summon the Avatar of Sloth, Belphegor!” You balled your hands up in the snow, raising your head to the sky. 

Nothing. 

“Belphegor!” You screamed so loud your words cracked…and then broke, choking as your throat finally gave, your voice finally went away. You got back up to your feet, crying quietly, trying to shuffle back towards the house Belphie had told you to head back to. He wasn’t going to meet you back here, was he? Your eyes wandered over something in the blood-covered snow. The other demon’s head was still there, untouched, stuck here to be frozen like everything else. Your hand went up to cover your mouth as images of the same thing happening to the youngest of the demon brothers flared in your mind. Your mouth moved to whisper his name, but hardly any sound came out. You closed your eyes to try to shield yourself from the image, from the thoughts. 

Then…you stopped, mind flicking off like one would flip a light-switch. Your eyes opened, observing the grisly scene with suddenly little more than mild disgust. You touched your body over where the pain you had felt from Belphie was. He wasn’t dead. You could still feel some of his essence swirling through your soul. With hardly a breath, you took that same hand in front of you, staring down at your gloved palm. Your normal body. Your human body. 

“You’re plotting something idiotic again, aren’t you?” Lucifer had come up behind you, using a book he had kept in his hand to gently smack the back of your head as you had sat alone in the living room, papers and items for your project littered around you. Another memory, another reminder of better times. 

Snow crunched under your feet. 

“It’s called helping, not plotting.” You had rubbed the back of your head even though the gesture Lucifer showed did little more than disturb your hair. You watched him come around to the other side of you, crouching down to observe your work. 

“These are for my brothers, yes?” He sighed, standing up straight as a hand went to his forehead. “You care for them too much. They don’t need to drag you into anything they get into.” 

The branch of a broken tree crunched under your feet. 

In the memory, you had looked around you and shrugged. Sure they were tiring at times, but when you helped them out, they always seemed so happy. That in turn made you happy. And besides, any day you got to help keep the peace and lessen the chances of one of them to lose control, the better. Usually if one of them had a tantrum…things were completely destroyed. You’d like for that not to happen. “Of course I care for them. You’d all do the same thing for me if I asked, right?” 

You pulled out the item held by the loop of your jeans. 

With the previous question, the eldest at the time couldn’t help but smile, only a little annoyed that you were right and he could not argue against it. “I suppose you are right. As annoying as it is, we take turns watching after one another. I can only hope you aren’t running yourself too thin. However…I am glad I know you are watching over them. It keeps me at peace.” 

You ran towards the sound of more noise. 

In the memory, you had beamed, watching as Lucifer sat beside you, a soft warmth to his eyes, perhaps a little embarrassed he expressed such a statement to you so honestly. “Thank you…for keeping my family safe.” 

Thudding footsteps and screeching could be heard not far from you now as you sprinted, an insane speed pushing your body through the snow, bolting in the direction Belphie had headed off to. I am plotting something idiotic this time, Lucifer, you thought, wishing he could hear you say it, knowing how he would scold you, how all the others would scold you, but you didn’t care. Yeah, humans are stupid, extremely stupid. Too many stories aired on the news of how just one dumb action could lead to tragedy. But this was already tragic, wasn’t it? You didn’t want to be saved. Not this way. The only thing that scared you more than this ridiculous creature now was the thought of returning home alone…having to answer the question of where Belphie went. Having to tell Beel what happened to his twin…No. That wouldn’t happen. 

A new trail of blood caught your eye, one that seemed fresh. With a pang, you could tell you were heading in the proper direction. Even without demon speed, it seemed you were catching up quickly. Perhaps Belphie had stopped running, trying to lose it or confuse it in the trees instead. 

You had zero plan, you had to admit, acting purely on burning instinct. You didn’t even care if it got you killed. You were getting out of here with Belphie or not at all, you already decided that. Yeah, maybe being cooped up here for so long had made you crazy, or maybe you were already a little crazy to begin with. How could you live with demons for so long after all? 

The sin eater could be spotted ahead of you, turning around in circles, slashing at tree trunks, neck twisted up in the branches. A shadow was darting up above it, almost making your eyes sting with tears. Belphie was okay. As you got closer, he seemed to sense you, a strange wail coming from him, one of disbelief. He didn’t have time to reach for you or scream your name as a warning. 

Like you said, you had no plan. Well, you had one. More like half of one, depending on luck, the gods, Diavolo’s strong belief in faith, in Lilith’s blood. You scooped up a ball of snow and chucked it at the creature. Snow pelted its body, feathers fluffing, shaking it off as it lowered its arms from trying to reach Belphie. The neck untangled itself from the trees, the mask snapping towards you. The light hovered over you, shining up and down, observing you from top to bottom. You could hear the gnashing of its many teeth from below its body. Like before, it came over to look at you, if you could call whatever it was doing ‘looking’ anyway. There was a moment of quiet like before, where it refused to make a move before it could tell if you were what it was looking for. It came closer this time, mask only a few hairs away from yours, it’s fake nose almost brushing against yours. 

Despite the fearful and over-exerted sweat dripping down your face, you managed to follow through, releasing all that pent up anger, the pent up desperation, the human stubbornness and determination to prove yourself no matter the cost. You would fight. You would bare your teeth. Even if it was futile. Even if you were weak. Your hands grasped at the feathers by the mask, pulling it’s head down, jamming the dagger in your hands right behind the headdress, digging it in and pulling it out, over and over and over again, golden blood coating your hands, spraying across your face. Each sickly stab had it squeal, and all the sudden, it pulled its neck back. Hands in a death-grip, you held on, body dangling in the air as it raised. With a clenched jaw and wild eyes, you shoved the dagger back into its body, pulling it along the mask’s edge, trying to cut it off. One of its arms raised, ready to split you in two, but the shadow in the trees kept that from happening. 

Belphie jumped, talons out, digging into the part of the arm that was flesh and not metal. He tore through the skin, keeping the arms from targeting you. The sin eater staggered, the melodic and comforting sounds it usually shared twisting, turning into a much more animalistic howl. It began to stand on its hind legs, pulling you and Belphie up into the air further. It bent itself slightly backwards, its mouth open, trying to pull Belphie inside even at the risk of chewing off its own leg. The demon of Sloth jumped, grasping and straddling its neck, pulling you up with him. The creature then tried to shake you both off, the long tendril you were on thrashing, thudding harshly against the trees. You nearly let go, not strong enough to hold on. A body held you close, Belphie keeping one arm around you, the other gripped tightly against the feathers. “Keep going! I’ve got you!” 

Somehow, while your head was spinning from being thrown around, you plunged the blade back into the sin eater, cutting around the mask, even maniacally digging your hand into its wounds, doing anything it took to peel its face off. Belphie wrapped his tail around you instead, using the now-free hand to help you. In a final act of desperation, the creature raised both the blades on its arms, swinging them towards you both, even if it meant hitting its own body. The next few seconds happened so fast, you hardly remember them. You remember holding onto the mask, fingers sliding through the empty eye-holes. You remember Belphie suddenly swinging down tearing you away with him, and you remembered the ear-splitting caterwaul that filled your whole body with pain, threatening to split your head open. 

Your ears rang, warmth dripping down your face as your nose bled. You sat up in the snow, not remembering hitting the ground. The sin eater violently convulsed, knocking down trees as it spasmed, each feather on edge. With a queasy observation, you noticed the bloody mask in your lap. 

The sin eater wailed, frustrated, angry, swinging its neck around and stomping its feet, moving its arms around wildly. But it no longer moved towards you both. It didn’t seem to know where you were. You were right. The mask was how it saw, even with no eyes. Now it was blind. Wounded, confused, it stumbled away from you both. 

It wasn’t until it was decently far away that you scrambled to your feet, breathing, almost crying in joy, in relief. We’re okay, you tried to say, but the only thing that came out was a wheezing gasp of noises. You turned your head to look with pride at the demon beside you. 

He was face down in the ground, a large gash along his back, not moving…Belphie?

“Mammon!” 

He heard his brother shout, but it seemed so far away, like a dream. Part of Mammon’s mind was screaming at him, trying to remind him that there was something important he should be doing. However, the rest of him felt weightless, some intruding voice encouraging him to close his eyes, to give in to the swirling yet peaceful unconsciousness. He almost submitted himself to it, MC’s face in his subconscious. He wanted to be with them. Yet, something yanked him out of it, both mentally and physically. 

“Get up!” There was a lurch, Mammon’s mind spinning as he suddenly stopped spiraling through the air uncontrollably. What he had assumed was up was actually down and yet now he was being flown in the opposite direction, and now he was all confused. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to recall where he was and what he was doing. He also came to the conclusion that his lungs weren’t breathing. With a gasp, he started coughing, each breath resulted in a stabbing pain in his ribs. Lucifer sighed, muttering something under his breath that resembled something like a prayer of gratitude. Had hell frozen over in the last few seconds? Still limply dangling from Lucifer's grasp, Mammon glanced down. The lift they had all been on was blown to bits, a few stray pebbles still sprinkling down past them, most of them engulfed in flames. Now they all stared downwards into a darkened pit. Howling laughter could still be heard at the bottom, louder now that there was no stone to muffle them. The demon of Pride pulled again at the collar of Mammon’s jacket. “Can you move?” 

“L…m…ehhh.” What Mammon had intended to be words only came out as a series of groans. Lucifer scowled at that, bringing them both onto more solid ground as he pulled them into an empty cell. Still fighting to blink the darkened spots from his eyes, Mammon sighed in a bit of relief as his body rested on the cold foundation of the cell-floor. With a few more wheezes, he was able to push himself up to his feet, trying to reach out for a wall to support himself against, but ending up falling into his brother instead. 

“Take it easy. Get your bearings.” Lucifer gripped him by the shoulders till Mammon could safely stand on his own two feet. “Are you alright?” 

Greed was conscious enough now to be able to scoff a bit. “Yeah, just peachy.” He hugged his torso with one arm, trying to ignore the discomfort in his sides. “That fuckin’ hurt.” Once Lucifer released his hold from him, he managed to take a few steps towards the open prison door. “Where’s Diavolo?” 

The first-born mimicked Mammon’s steps, leaning his head slightly out of the cell to glance up and down. Almost pitch-blackness seemed to devour both directions. “Further up. I dove down quite a ways to grab you.” 

Useless, like always. Something chittered in the back of Mammon’s mind, taunting him. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to get rid of the strange feeling that had just run up his spine. “That’s why the crowd sounds so loud then, yeah?” What they had previously heard as little more than a whisper of a giggle before was now practically a roar. A sea of a multitude of voices cried out, some wailing in despair, others whooping in glee, some of them just screaming as loud as their twisted bodies would let them. What frightened Mammon the most was the fact that he could discern that some voices were definitely closer than others. 

“There’s hundreds of them,” Lucifer sighed as he narrowed his gaze. “And quite a few of them are approaching.” As his brother stated it, Mammon could just now see it himself. Figures down in the dark were writhing, clawing up the walls, crawling up each other even. It reminded Mammon of when you disturb an ant nest, too many critters gushing from the ground in a disturbing mass of wriggling limbs. Lucifer pushed out air through gritted teeth in sharp annoyance, magic snapping around him as he quickly thrust down a burst of magic. He struck quite a few of the prisoners, but those who fell were quickly replaced by others. “We’ll be overwhelmed if we stay here. Let us reconvene with Diavolo.” 

Mammon flexed his wings, pleased to find that they were still functional. He simply nodded at his brother’s plan. Flying upwards seemed like a much better solution than staying here. Lucifer encouraged the second-born to head out first, trailing behind, ready to cover Mammon should anything happen again. As they both headed up, Mammon couldn’t help but almost feel that feeling of dizziness he had felt before. Every set of cells they passed felt the same. There was no indication of progression. The darkness was unyielding. There were only two directions, and yet it almost seemed like they were flying in circles. 

Luckily, before he could panic, they both spotted a familiar shadow above them. Soon that shadow rushed down to greet them. “Thank the realms!” Diavolo reached out a hand to them both, giving them both a little tug so they were at his sides. “I nearly feared the worst.” 

“While I hate to spoil the reunion, I feel it’s too early to say such things. We are all still in danger.” Lucifer folded his arms. Mammon spotted a few of his brother’s feathers falling from Pride’s perfect wings as they fluttered. They must’ve come loose in the blast. His brother must be furious. 

Diavolo hummed so deep it was almost a growl, although Mammon had never heard the prince make such a noise before. “This has turned rather dire, hasn’t it? Between the three of us, I would normally recommend quelling this mob, but we have to remember that prisoners aren’t the only things kept here.” 

“There’s the matter of dangerous objects being used against us as well,” Lucifer confirmed. “That plus sheer numbers puts us in a less than favorable position.” Mammon’s hopes sank a bit at that. His brother was Pride! And the Prince of the Devildom was right here! If Lucifer felt the three of them would struggle…

So he made a suggestion, although he knew deep in his soul that the other two would perhaps rather die than agree to a retreat. “Do we make a break for it?” 

The prince and his right-hand-demon glanced at each other, trying to come up with a proper response. Diavolo was the one who eventually spoke. “While not ideal, we still hold the upper hand. Our main advantage is our ability of flight. If we remain in the air and stick close to caution, we will win this battle.” 

“Now that you mention it,” Mammon pondered, expressing his concern as the thought crossed his mind. “We haven’t had anyone come buzzin’ up here yet.” It was odd to him, to watch all those demons work on climbing rather than those who had ‘em just use their wings. He had expected a small swarm, and yet, the only ones with the wind shifting around them were the three of them. Mammon expected a number of different reactions, most of them some combination of annoyance or exasperation at his lack of knowledge, but he wasn’t expecting Diavolo to look so confused…and his brother to look so pale. 

“You didn’t know?” The prince wondered, curious at first, and then suddenly looking a bit guilty, as if he answered his own question. “Lucifer never told you.” 

The eldest brother tried to raise his chin to combat the slightly crest-fallen expression to his face. “It never felt like a detail he needed to know.” Mammon had never regretted asking a question more. “Those who become imprisoned here get their…” Lucifer hesitated, an unsettling pause drifting over them. Pride almost struggled with his words, a hint of pain behind his eyes. “...Wings clipped…Permanently.” 

As a demon, there were hardly any means of torture or punishment that fazed him too much. Sure, Mammon didn’t have a stomach for horror, and sure, he might have the occasional cry if Lucifer ended up stringing him up by his ankles, but he was still a demon. And yet, the phrase that had just left his brother’s mouth left Mammon feeling ill. Before he was a demon he had been an angel. To an angel, losing your wings was perhaps a fate worse than death. He remembers his younger brother's intense, never-ending cries at their transformation after the Fall. Levi and Belphegor…the only two that lost their ability to fly…forever. To lose that as well as their sister at the same time…it was a miracle the two of them ever recovered. Satan had never really had wings to call his own, and thus never could relate to such a deep loss. Mammon had to shake his head to free himself from the memory. “‘Kay, they’re all grounded, got it.” Which means a lot of them are probably extremely pissed off, he thought to himself. If someone had done that to him…well, revenge would probably be the only thing that mattered. “So, as long as we stay up high, we should be perfectly fine, right?” 

Lucifer opened his mouth, perhaps to correct him, but he didn’t have the time to. Any words were suddenly drowned out by an intense rumble, the stones, the very air quivering around them. For a third time, Mammon was plunged into this maddening sensation of disorientation. Only, this time, he could tell that something wasn’t right. This was more than just his rattled mind. A magical humming filled the air, the noise so fierce, even the prisoners below were muted completely. The metal of the cell doors rattled, almost vibrating themselves to pieces. Then the three of them were all falling, spinning, but slowly. No…not falling. This phenomenon was similar to what he had just gone through a little bit before, but it wasn’t exact. 

Mammon grabbed his brother’s arm, shouting as loud as he could, but his voice lost in the commotion. So he emphasized his words, hoping his brother could read his lips. “What’s going on?!” 

The pain in Mammon’s ribs, the pounding in his head, none of those compared to the torment he felt in his soul as soon as he caught the genuine fear in Lucifer’s eyes. Despite their spats and disagreements, he looked up to his older brother whole-heartedly. Lucifer always seemed perfectly indomitable. There were very few things that could get his brother shaken up. Apparently, they had landed themselves in one of those rare circumstances. He answered Mammon back, pointing down at the prison walls. The cells that had been beside them were now below them. It took Mammon a second to figure out what Lucifer had said. He was never really good at reading lips. Once the message was clear, his heart almost stopped in his chest. No…that was such a ridiculous answer! His brother must be joking! But this was Lucifer he was with…and now was definitely not the time for messing around. “The prison is moving,” was what he had said. Sure enough, the walls continued to twist, the tunnel coming back up to reposition themselves vertically…but in the opposite orientation that had been in. Up was now Down and Down was now Up. What was below was now above. Like a messed up version of an hourglass, that frantic mass of demons at the other end of the pit would now be plummeting down on them. 

So much for the high-ground advantage. 

You got down on your knees, smile fading, shaking Belphie’s arms. You couldn’t call out for him, your voice was dead. You could only try to lift his head, get him to look at you. His eyes were closed. But your mark…he was alive…he was just…hurt. Badly. You looked around at where you were…very very far away from the house. You would use the spell you’d learned but…what if it hurt him more than helped him? You wanted to sob, but you were even too tired to do that. No, neither of you could die out in this snow, not after you’d just done all that. 

The bag that Belphie had carried on him was gone, apparently torn off in the scuffle. There had been supplies in there, things that would’ve been helpful to you right now…Could demons bleed out like humans? You didn’t want to take that risk. With frantic fingers, you unbuttoned the coat around you, shrugging it off your shoulders, shuddering a bit as the icy air bit at your body. You’d be even colder in a minute, but just for a moment. You took off your shirt, pulling it off your head before quickly putting the coat back over you. The dagger…where was the dagger? You stood up, pacing around in the snow before you found it half-way buried by the roots of one of the many trees. You raced back to Belphie’s side, working on using the fabric of the shirt to make a bandage. It was the only thing you could think of to do…There would be more supplies at the house…you just had to make it there. 

Hold on, you wanted to promise, making up for your lack of voice by caressing the side of his face, pulling his head into your lap so he wasn’t planted in the snow. Shaking hands worked on making the shirt into long pieces, doing your best to pull up Belphie’s demon clothes to wrap the fabric around his torso. He would be fine…he had to be. He had to. Tugging the make-shift bandage tightly around him, it quickly grew warm and wet. It was hardly enough, and you could only hope it was a touch better than being completely pointless. You pushed his clothes back over him, hoping to keep him warm. Although you knew out of everything, the temperature was the least of his worries. The cold should be your worry.

Placing the dagger back through the loop of your jeans, you looked at the mask in the snow one last time, hoping with all your soul that it had been enough…and trying to not think of how messed up that whole thing had been. Come on, you thought, almost like you were trying to speak to Belphie through your mind. This would be…grueling. Perhaps impossible. But the only thing you had left in you was stubbornness, your tenacity to never let anything go. You grasped at Belphie’s arms, panting, trying to pull him up to drape over your back. You tried to take a step with him and fell, almost flattening against the ground. Demons were definitely…heavier than humans. 

Curses flooded your mind, having to shake him off of you, gripping your hair as you tried to think of what to do. The only thing you could think of was pulling him along. So, you grabbed the fabric of his hood, tugging as hard as you could, digging your heels into the snow. He moved a few inches. 

Tug. You didn’t want to think about it. Thinking took up too much energy. Tug. Demons healed faster than humans, he would be okay. Tug. He was the demon of sloth, he was just sleeping it off. Tug. You’d make it. Tug. You’d both make it. Tug. Just. Tug. Keep. Tug. Moving. 

You fell backwards in the snow, tripping over a fallen tree-branch. As your body hit the ground, you almost passed out right there. You were exhausted. Soon, there would be a point where no amount of determination would save you. You looked around, unable to tell where you were in regards to how far you were from the house. You’d both run a long way. It took you both a while to make it this far while walking. How would you make it back dragging him along? It would take hours…hours you felt you didn’t have. 

But you’d be damned if you didn’t try. 

With your arms placed under his, fingers locked behind his neck, you pulled him up over the branch, using the weight of your whole body to haul him through the snow, finding it a touch more effective than just pulling his shirt, but finding it drained you faster. At least it was keeping you warm, moving around, blood pumping harshly through your body, your heart pounding in your chest. You stopped every now and again to breathe, gulping air into your weak lungs. Eventually, you noticed plenty of demon blood on the ground. You’d made it to where you first met the beast. You dropped Belphie, almost collapsing. You’d made it…halfway…You laughed a bit, a tear falling down your cheek. It had been a ridiculous goal anyway…but halfway…not bad…for a human. 

You fell to your knees, taking one of Belphie’s arms and giving it one last…tug. His arm was wrapped around you as you snuggled up near his body in the snow. This was fine, you assured yourself. You did what you could to save him. You had no regrets. Up until the end you stayed with them. Lilith and Lucifer would be proud. You’d pushed yourself so far…and you were prepared to lie in the bed you’d made for yourself. And at least…you’d get one final nap with Belphie…

So you closed your eyes. Goodnight. 

Somewhere in the blackness, the void of unconsciousness, you found a warmth. It felt familiar. So, you went towards it. There was a voice calling for you, one you knew all too well by now. “I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I tried…” 

The light and the warmth enveloped you. “I know.” 

“Will he be okay, Lilith?” 

Even though you could not see her, it was as if you could feel her smile. “I think so.” You somehow sat down, even though there wasn’t really a floor to do that, even though this was just your mind…your soul? You were never sure. “What you did was very brave.” 

“It was stupid.” 

She hummed in amusement, much like in the way Lucifer did. Perhaps she got it from him, or maybe the other way around. “Thank you…for saving him…” Her voice began to become more distant. “I know…it’s selfish…but please…” She was almost fully gone now. You scrambled back to your feet, a little confused. Isn’t this where she was supposed to take you away? Or at least stay with you till the end? “Save…the rest of them…I beg of you…” 

“Lilith?” You called out, the warmth of her light fading. Then your stomach dropped, your heart feeling like it lurched up into your chest as you felt like you were falling, plummeting through a darkness with no end. You tried to scream, but your voice was gone again, or maybe you couldn’t hear it through the wind rushing past your ears. You hit the ground. 

Then your eyes opened. 

Everything was blurry, a mushed up series of colors and shapes. What…what was this?...It took you a good few tries before you could keep your eyelids fully open, trying to turn your head, although it hurt like hell. Your whole body hurt like hell. Moving happened in increments, little shifts until you could look to your left. Heat lightly waved across your face, and it took you far too long to realize that it was…a fire? You shut your eyes again, exhausted, taking the time to feel around you. A little weight was across your body…but not Belphie. A blanket? 

Was this not death? 

Sitting up was much too hard, gripping at whatever surface you could find around you, your entire body shaking as you pulled yourself up into a seated position. Your head swam, body in agony, but you kept your eyes open, forcing them to stay open. This was not the forest. This was–

“You’re awake!” The sound of pounding footsteps thundered through the room, two arms wrapping around you, pulling you in so tightly you nearly blacked out again. Your head fell back, but you bobbed it forward, listening to the person panic, their voice almost muffled as you struggled to fight with your own body, your senses dulled. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry, please look at me…please…MC…” The person’s voice finally sparked a connection in your mind. You fluttered your eyes open, working on getting your eyes to focus. 

It was bittersweet, truly, almost cruel. Once you could settle your eyes on the person before you, you cried. You were so filled with joy…and yet, as you croaked, there was a clear chord of sadness to your voice. Voice still gone, you were surprised the noise that came out of your mouth was comprehensible. You squeaked his name, a weak hand coming up to rest on the side of his face. You were worried you were hallucinating. Although, even if you were, this would’ve been a good dream. But this was real, you had to figure. His body was warm. His tears ran over your fingers. “Beel.”

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

The sun is low when a shout goes up from the lookouts. Long shadows stretch across the mountains. The evening light catches on a sunset-bright red head against the snow. She’s trekking up the faint and winding path more slowly than usual.

“Is that a… stick?” Baurus squints, shielding his eyes for a better view as they venture out to meet her. “Is it from the Deadlands?”

“It looks very much like a normal branch to me.” Martin cups his hands around his mouth. “My friend! Are you limping?” She’s tied something to her leg below the knee; he thinks it resembles a splint, a bit.

Her face scrunches up in a scowl. The stick thuds into the ground with a little more force than before on her next step.

Baurus offers an arm. Martin does not tell him he should probably be closer if he actually wants to help, because she does very much look like she might bite right now, fox in a snare. “Is it closed? Did you get the stone?”

“Yes,” she says, leaning heavily on the stick, “but, um. It hurt. A little.”

---

“Even a simple healing spell would have kept it from getting this bad,” Martin says reproachfully, unpicking the splintered bone where it’s begun to fuse back together the wrong way. The faint golden glow warms his cold fingers, crooked like a child making shapes with string.

Around the pair of socks stuffed between her teeth, Molly croaks, “Yep.” It comes out more like yet. The muscles have gone rigid, misplaced and inflamed, around the bone to try to hold it steady; he rearranges the layers as carefully as he can. She slams a fist into the ground with a strangled little noise anyway.

“You should have said sooner that you didn’t know any restoration. I can teach you at least a—”

“Understand the theory behind it just fine.” Her face screws up as he slots a piece of bone into place with an unsettling, grinding creak. “Nnngkk—just can’t do anything with it. Never have. —can’t you get it over with any faster—!” One of the smaller pieces snaps into position. She doesn’t yell, but she does jerk her knee towards her chest to pull the leg away from him.

“Stop that. Give it back. What do you mean you can’t do anything with it? I thought,” he starts, and then stops, because she’s cracked one eye to shoot him a monstrous, bloodshot glare.

“Don’t.”

“It’s just that,” he attempts more delicately, hands hovering over the fresh bruise blooming on her shin (he’ll have to be more careful; he’s usually very good about not causing new bruising), “I would have thought… er.”

“No, fine, go on now you’ve started.” She yanks the wadded socks from her mouth, rubbing at her jaw. “Maybe if I’m benevolently reminded there’s a Breton or six in every mage hall from here to Blackwood, my lifelong incapability will be overcome at last, miraculous—”

“Alright, alright. You are very unpleasant as a patient, you know.” Cross, he sits back on his heels. “Try standing now.”

She props herself up on her elbows, bracing herself for the lurch forward and upward with a grimace. “Did they already take the stone off to—wherever they put them?”

Rising to his own feet and offering a hand she doesn’t take (and she may never take it, he acknowledges, but he doesn’t know how to stop offering, all the same), he says, “Yes. They’re very keen on the enchanting properties, it seems.”

It takes her a moment to answer, all her focus caught up in the act of standing. After a series of movements reminiscent of some barely-born wobbly-legged animal and a truly impressive dedication to pretending he is not standing there with his hand patiently outstretched, she manages it, panting and tentatively stretching her leg out in front of herself, leaning on the table beside her. “Good for them. Have these stones got—souls—in them?” And then, before he can reply, she says miserably, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Thank you.”

“Oh,” he says, eyebrows shooting upwards. “Does that mean it doesn’t hurt now?”

“No, it does.” To prove it, she puts all her weight on the leg and jumps back to the other almost immediately with a hiss.

“Don’t do that, then. You ought to get some rest.”

“Hm.”

“At least try.” He folds his arms as she sits on the edge of the table and pulls her leg up to poke at the bruise. “Stop.”

Making a face, she pokes at it again anyway. “It looks smaller than I thought it would be.” She leans over the table to drag her bag closer. “I will try,” she says, “to sleep. Before I forget, though.” Emerging with a small paper-wrapped and string-tied… something, she holds it out, not quite meeting his eyes. “Tried to keep it from getting crushed.”

He takes it, curious. “What, is this from Dagon as well—”

“No, Skingrad. Just—I don’t know what it’s like when I’m not here, but they never seem to have anything sweet. Blades, not bakers, or something like that.”

A sweetroll. He almost laughs. “They don’t,” he admits. “You broke your leg and stopped to buy a sweetroll?”

“Brother Martin,” she says defensively, “you should think better of me. I broke my leg and stopped to buy two sweetrolls. I ate mine already.”

This time, he does laugh.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

We'll Save You (1/4)

----

Janus finds himself stumbling into problems like one stumbles over rocks on the road, except some problems are a little worse than others.

But when he finally stumbles into someone who isn't like everyone else Janus' had met so far in this unforgiving world, he thinks that maybe there is some merit to the world after all.

----

| Ao3 | Next Chapter -> |

Fic Warnings: implied + referenced abuse/torture. trauma, an oc character generally being creepy. referenced past starvation

Pairings: pre-established prinxiety, pre-romantic anaroceit.

Word Count: 4054

Notes: Hellloooo @anaroceitweek day 1 here - yes I'm tagging myself and participating in my own event shut up.

Ao3 is down so I can't post on there just yet, but I will later! So! Yeah!

My plan is to continue this fic with a few of the other prompts from this week if I can get the writing done in time, but I might not lol, they may be late. I really want to draw Roman from this au after I described him-

Also I'm flying by the seat of my pants for this fic (wtf does this phrase actually mean lmao) so I have planned NOTHING lol

----

“Hello there little one,” said a whispering voice in the back of Janus’ mind that sent shivers down his spine. He ignored it, resolute, you weren’t supposed to talk to the voices in the forest, “My my, aren’t you far from home?”

Janus growled in the back of his throat, pushing forward. If he didn’t acknowledge the creepy voice speaking straight into his brain, then it would go away and leave him the hell alone. 

“What is such a little thing like you doing here in our woods anyway?” The voice sounded thoughtful, and Janus could almost picture a being putting a finger to their chin in curiosity with it.

He shook his head to get rid of the image and kept walking at his almost-too-quick pace, pushing back a branch, ducking under another one, stepping over the poisonous plant, keep going. 

“Careful where you step,” The voice crooned, almost mocking, Janus couldn’t resist the urge to glance around at the area. No one was there, he glared at the empty space anyway. 

“Why such a look, little one? I’m only trying to help,” The voice said, growing a little louder and slightly more persistent, the tone was almost a whine, but somehow Janus could tell that whatever was talking to him wasn’t genuinely upset.

“Shut up,” Janus muttered, pulling out a compass as he stopped for a moment, he groaned, finding he’d gone off course a little, turning and heading in the right direction.

“You shouldn’t be here,” The voice seemed to tease, “The woods are no place for a little mortal like you.”

“Yeah, well, don’t really have a choice do I,” Janus hissed at the empty forest around him, before slapping a hand over his mouth and sighing. Well, now he’d done it. 

“Oh how precious!” The voice seemed to laugh, “What are you running from, little one?”

“Nothing,” Janus snapped, “None of your business, whatever you are.”

“But it is my business, see,” They said voice punctuated with a cackle that had Janus paling, “Because you just stepped into my circle!”

“What,” Janus whispered, panicked now as he heard a whooshing breeze and suddenly the voice was gone. He looked around him, alarmed, to find that he was in fact standing in a circle - of pink and yellow flowers and mushrooms. He cursed, looking around again, this was a fairy circle, and he was stood in the centre of it. 

A strong, icy breeze whipped through the forest, tugging at his cloak and hair before settling again. Janus needed to get out of this circle before… but he couldnt’ seem to move his damn feet.

“What a surprise!” Someone said behind him, the voice sounded eerily similar to the one that had been speaking in his head, “Why, I haven’t had a visitor in years, welcome to my circle, little one.”

“Let me g-” Janus hissed, turning around only for his jaw to drop, the word he was speaking being cut off halfway through. 

Standing mere inches behind him was a person who could only possibly be fae. They smiled at him, the look on their face was something that might have been inviting, possibly even warm, if he took it at face value. 

Instead, he saw the undertones, something unnerving, and almost sinister. 

“Won’t you rest, little one, you’ve had such a long journey,” They said, cupping his face with their hand, he could already feel himself sinking to the ground, compelled by the siren-like melody of their words, “Yes that’s right, just rest, and tell me, what is your name, little one?”

Janus opened his mouth to reply, to answer, despite every part of him screaming no, to stay awake, to keep his name locked close to his chest. As his vision went black, he knew he wasn’t lucky enough to be so strong-willed. 

—-

Running. 

He was running. 

Where to? He didn’t know, where from? He shuddered to think.

His legs burned, the muscles screaming at him to stop, to rest, take a break, his mind whispered. He couldn’t take a break, if he stopped they would catch him and bring him back. His lungs burned too, every breath feeling like sandpaper in his throat, he kept going despite, kept pushing as he flew through the forest, the trees and the grass and plants barely able to hold him back for a second. 

It wasn’t the same forest he had been in all those years ago when he’d been escaping something that felt so far away from him now. So inconsequential and yet still able to shoot another bolt of adrenaline down his spine. He kept running.

No, this wasn’t the same forest. This one was luscious, almost too saturated - enough to hurt Janus’ eyes if he looked close for too long. This forest was filled with critters he didn’t know how to name, that he’d never seen before. It was filled with floating orbs of light that kept his path glowing ahead of him even as night began to fall. 

Janus ran until he crashed into something solid. His eyes were starting to blur from exhaustion at that point, and when he hit… whatever he had run into… his legs buckled and he simply sank to the floor, trying to pull air into his lungs. He didn’t know how far he had gotten, he only remembered the last stretch of the journey. But he felt like he had been running for hours. 

Someone was speaking, and Janus felt a dull stab of panic in his chest, someone was here, would they take him back? Had they come for him?

He tried to push himself up so he could run again but found he could barely even push himself up from the ground. When his arms gave out and he collapsed again, he was caught by an arm, a strong, warm arm, that pulled him into some kind of hold. His mind was too hazy and tired to really register what was happening as he was lifted into the air and carried away. 

—-

“What the fuck is that.” 

“A mortal!” Roman said, “I think.”

“You think?” Virgil hissed, pacing, “You just- You just brought in what you think is a mortal? To our house?”

“It ran into me!” Roman protested, “And then collapsed - and it looked so scared, I couldn’t just - leave it, Virge, you know that.”

“Well what are we supposed to do with it now?” Virgil said, gesturing widely to the mortal who lay sleeping in their shared bed. He wasn’t in the best shape, not by a long way. He was scrawny, with barely any meat on his bones. He wore clothes that covered his arms and legs, though they were ripped in places and too big. Knotted, messy blonde hair covered their still tense face. 

Roman took a deep breath, “I supposed we… look after it?”

“You’re serious?” Virgil said, groaning, “Why don’t we just drop it outside of the nearest fairy circle back into the mortal world?”

“Virge,” Roman said sternly, “First off, I think it’s a he? We’ll have to ask when it- he- wakes up, second, we don’t know where he came from, or how long he’s been here - we can’t just drop him off in the mortal world! He might be centuries and miles away from when he came in!”

“So?” Virgil said, crossing his arms, “Since when was that our problem?”

“Shush,” Roman hissed, raising a hand, “I think he’s waking up!”

“Ro- what-” Virgil hissed back as Roman rushed over to the bed, watching the mortal intently as he slowly blinked open his eyes. There was a moment of silence - so much so that even the room seemed to be holding it’s breath - before the human finally noticed Roman.

And Virgil felt such a strong bolt of fear surge through the room that he almost doubled over - a hand to his chest. The human scrambled from the bed, backing into the corner of the room on shaky legs and putting as much distance between himself and Roman as he could. 

Roman went to step closer, before Virgil intervened, grabbing the back of Roman’s blouse and dragging him back a few steps all while breathing heavily. 

Being able to feel other being’s fear was a useful power, but when it was so strong that it almost hurt it made Virgil wish he could turn it off. 

Virgil wondered what had happened to this human to make him so scared. 

“He’s terrified,” Virgil whispered to Roman, before letting him go. 

“Of what?” Roman asked, eyes wide. 

“You, I think,” Virgil said, “Maybe me too, not sure.”

“Stay away-” The human said raising a hand when Roman turned back to look at him, “What- do you want from me?”

Roman considered, for a second, before taking a deep breath, “Nothing.”

The mortal seemed shocked by that. Shocked enough to near collapse against the wall, ending up sitting on the plush carpet in the corner of the room. 

“...Nothing?” He asked, voice small.

“I didn’t bring you here to take from you,” Roman told him, trying to keep his voice soft but firm, Virgil remained silent, watching the exchange over Roman’s shoulder, “I brought you here so you could rest safely, that is all.”

“You’re not… you’re not with them?” The mortal asked.

“Who’s ���them’, sweetie?” Roman asked gently, before sharing a worried glance with Virgil.

“The ones who gave me these,” The mortal said, sounding almost sad, though Virgil could still feel the fear radiating from him. Moments later he brushed his hair from his face, holding it back so that Virgil and Roman could see the marks imprinted there. 

Virgil gasped, covering his mouth with a hand. On the left side of the mortal’s face - from hairline to chin - was what looked like scales. Virgil knew better, though, the mark only looked like scales. 

“Vee,” Roman whispered, “You look pale.”

“That-” Virgil started, before looking at the mortal, who shrank back under his gaze and let the hair fall back into place, once again covering the mark, “That’s a brand, Ro.”

“What?” Roman yelped, “I thought those…”

“Weren’t a thing anymore? Yeah, so did I.” Virgil said, glaring at nothing, though the mortal shrunk back just a little more - probably because of his tone. 

Roman took a deep breath and nodded. “Of course, we need to… find out who did this-”

“A noble of the winter court,” Virgil answered, voice coming out a near hiss, “I recognise her mark.”

“Don’t send me back there,” The mortal spoke up, before slapping a hand over his mouth when both faeries turned to look at him, “Please.”

“No,” Roman shook his head, “I don’t think we will, right, Vee?”

“No, we won’t send you back there,” Virgil agreed, “whatever cruelty you have experienced under her will not follow you here.”

Roman hesitated, before tugging on Virgil’s sleeve to get his attention, before whispering, “You know we’ll be killed if she finds out we have him here, right?”

“You think I don’t know that?” Virgil sighed, “Buh… knowing that she had him- I can’t send him away knowing that.”

“Okay,” Roman nodded, “then we need to figure out what to do.”

“Of course,” Virgil said, looking back at the mortal, “Hey uh- is it okay with you if we ask a few questions?”

The mortal stared at him and Virgil could feel his fear strengthen the longer they looked at each other, eventually he concluded that he wasn’t going to respond. 

“Do you… not want to talk to me?” Virgil asked, frowning, the human nodded slowly, “Is it because… I’m winter?”

He stared at Virgil for a long moment, before whispering, “You- feel like she did…”

“Okay, yes, probably because I’m winter, then,” Virgil mumbled, “Would you rather talk to Ro?”

Virgil gestured to their partner who waved with a smile.

“Okay,” The mortal said eventually.

“Would you like me to leave?” Virgil asked.

“Please?” the mortal responded, Virgil nodded. He patted Roman’s arm before turning and leaving the room without another world.

—

“Okay,” ‘Ro’ said as soon as the other one left the room. All Janus’ attention was suddenly on the faerie in front of him. He was tall, with golden skin and hair like a bright bonfire. His eyes were like pools of liquid silver - not even mentioning the tawny wings on his back, similarly coloured feathers in place of ears too. He was… beautiful, and had a very different presence than the other faerie he was with, and… her. 

Janus tried to take a few breaths, he needed to answer the faerie’s questions if he wanted to get through this alive - and he had to answer them correctly if he wanted to get out of this without being hurt. 

“First,” He said, “Are you a uh- I don’t know mortal gender terms-?”

“A man,” Janus answered the question he was pretty sure Ro was asking, before continuing when the faerie tilted his head, blinking in confusion, “um, I use ‘he/him’ pronouns?”

“Wonderful, that’s what we assumed,” Ro nodded, Janus relaxed just a little, okay, that was the right answer then, “Now, do you have something you’d like to go by? Something we can call you?”

Janus tensed, he knew the question would come up, but that didn’t mean he liked it any more. Giving his name to a faerie was a mistake he’d made once, and he knew that as soon as he did it was all over. Ro would be able to control him, it would be just like before all over again. Of course, that was why they hadn’t hurt him yet - it all made sense, how nice they had been, they needed his name to use him. 

He must have hesitated for too long, though, because Ro frowned, “Just a nickname, sweetheart, I’m not asking for your true name.”

“You’re… not?” Janus asked hesitantly, he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask questions in return, but… he needed to know.

“I’m not,” Ro nodded, folding down to sit cross-legged on the plush carpet across the room from him, “Your true name is to be freely given to those you trust, and I know you don’t trust me yet.”

Janus didn’t say anything to that for a moment, he didn’t acknowledge that second statement at all, though he was sure Ro knew it was true, “...Deceit - you can call me, Deceit, or Dee if you want.”

“Okay Deceit,” Ro said, smiling, and oh how charming was that, “You can call me Ro, or Prince, my partner is Vee, or Anxiety, if you prefer a more formal nickname.”

Janus nodded, Prince and Anxiety, he could remember that. 

“Next question, how… old are you?” Prince asked, “No- that’s a useless question the numbers mortals use mean nothing to me, um, are you of maturity?”

“What uh- what do you mean?” Janus asked, frowning in confusion.

Prince sighed, “Are you - an adult? Or a youngling?”

“Oh,” Janus said, “An adult, I um - when I was - taken - I was 24 but… I don’t know how long it’s been.”

“That’s okay.” Prince nodded, “And good to know, next question, what’s your favourite colour?”

…Out of all the questions Prince had asked him so far, this was the one that surprised him the most. Why on earth would the faeries want to know what colours he enjoyed? Surely that information was useless?

“Yellow,” Deceit answered truthfully - he had learned quickly that lying to a faerie was one of the biggest mistakes a mortal could make, “And, um, I like black too.”

“Brillant,” Prince grinned, revealing teeth slightly sharper than average, “I’m partial to a nice red, myself, preferably crimson but I do like a lovely scarlette as well - Anxiety tends to be more drawn to purples, what’s your favourite animal?”

“...snakes?” Janus said slowly, his favourite animal was something he’d never particularly had to think about - especially not recently. 

Prince nodded, seeming… thoughtful. About what, Janus had no clue, but he seemed to be lost in whatever thoughts he was having. Eventually, he went to say something else before cutting himself off with a displeased hum and a frown. 

“Is everything… okay?” Janus asked, trying to work out what was going on. Prince had been all smiles almost the entire time since Anxiety had left, the abrupt change had his guard straight back up. 

Prince took a deep breath, the wings on his back shuddering and stretching out a little with it, Janus couldn’t help the way the feathers caught his eye - they looked incredibly soft. 

“She probably gave you faerie food, right?” Prince asked, Janus paled as hazy memories flooded his mind, a hunger that turned to sharp pain that turned to a hollow emptiness that had almost killed him. Right at the beginning before he lost whatever fight he had then he’d resisted, getting up after every kick or burn, She’d punish him every time he refused to eat, and eventually - when he’d been too weak from hunger and pain to even move - he’d given in and taken the apple she’d offered him. 

He still remembered how she had laughed when he’d bitten into it. He could almost hear it now, crisp as footsteps in snow but crackling like lightning. 

Janus couldn’t say anything around the lump in his throat those memories brought with them, instead he simply nodded sadly. Prince frowned in sympathy, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach for Janus, though he didn’t move closer. 

“And you know what that means?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Janus recited what had been drilled into him a thousand times, “That I cannot leave this realm, I can never return home and that I belong now to the fae and the faerie realm.”

Prince sighed again, seeming sad, “You can leave.”

“What?” Janus asked, eyes wide.

“Theoretically, you’re not actually bound to this land, but… all it means is that mortal food won’t satisfy you anymore. You don’t have to stay here, but you do need faerie food, so… it’s an effective way to keep mortal trapped.”

Janus couldn’t do much but nod. He never knew that, but if he couldn’t survive without food from Faerie was there really point in escaping anyway?

“Was there anything in particular you liked?” Prince asked sadly, as if he actually cared that Janus was stuck here, which Janus couldn’t fathom being true, he knew faeries couldn’t lie, but he was sure they could fake emotions. Panic seeped in as he realised he didnt have an answer. The food she gave him was good, but he always felt dirty eating it, it always made him guilty and sick. He was never able to really enjoy any of it. 

“I don’t…” Janus started, trailing off, “I don’t know… I was never allowed to…”

Prince raised a hand to cut him off and Janus shrank back into the corner just a little, pulling his knees up closer to his chest, Prince sighed, “It’s okay, we can try things and figure it out, are you alright?”

Janus nodded, trying to relax just a little in his corner. 

“I will warn you now, neither I nor my partner know much about mortals, but we will- actually,” Prince paused, considering for a second, “Do you know about promises?”

“Fae promises?” Janus asked, Prince nodded, “Just that they’re binding- like deals- she tried to make me make them.”

“Did you?”

“No,” Janus said. Prince seemed to fully droop in relief. 

“I want to make a promise to you,” Prince said, slowly, clearly watching for Janus’ reaction, he just stayed still, staring right back, “I promise that I will not intentionally cause you harm, physically or emotionally, in any way. I promise to protect you to the best of my ability against anything or anyone who threatens you, and- I swear that you will be safe here, in my home, for as long as you wish to remain.”

Janus gasped as the feeling of magic washed over him, though it felt nothing like the magic he’d experienced before. This magic felt like a summer shower, warm and light. It wrapped around him, feeling almost comforting in it’s presence. When the sensation died down Janus thought he could smell woodsmoke. 

“How do you know I’m worth such a promise?” Janus asked quietly, unable to keep the astounded look off of his face. Roman had promised not to hurt him, and he knew how promises worked, did that mean he was safe? From Roman, at least, Anxiety hadn’t made such a promise. 

“Because you have been hurt,” Roman said, “By one of my own kind, you have suffered and you are scared and you deserve to be safe,  you should be allowed to heal, besides, you are a guest in my house, it would be horrifically rude if I let something bad happen to you.”

Roman’s wings flared out as he spoke, as though him being rude is the worst possible offence he could commit. Janus couldn’t help but smile, wondering if maybe this wasn’t going to end quite as horribly as he may have expected. Roman stood up, slowly taking a step closer to Janus, and when he didn’t flinch back he took another. Janus frowned when Roman extended a hand to him, but eventually reached up and took it, telling himself again that Prince had promised not to hurt him. 

With a gentle tug Janus was hoisted to his feet, though almost immediately he tripped - his legs still jelly-like and shaking from all the running. Instead of falling to the ground, though, Janus tripped forward into Roman’s chest. He yelped and pushed himself away as quickly as he could without falling straight to the ground. Prince was still holding his hand - and now was also stabalising him with a hand on his shoulder - and even despite what had just happened, the faerie was still smiling. He actually looked a little like he was trying not to laugh. 

“Lets get you somewhere you can rest, shall we?” Prince said, still actively trying not to chuckle as Janus frowned at him, “And we’ll get you some food while you do.”

“Okay,” Janus nodded eventually, feeling a yawn bubble up inside of him and repressing it as much as he could. He had become a master of hiding when he was tired, fatigue was never taken kindly. But Prince was telling him to rest, so maybe he could lie down for a short while…

The small part of the house Janus got to see as they travelled from the bedroom he had woken in to a second bedroom was immense. The ceilings were tall and vaulted, decorated with patterns and murals that looked hand-painted. The windows that adorned the hallway were open wide, letting in a cool, refreshing breeze scented with summer flowers while deep, floor length, maroon curtains swayed in the wind. The decor was a mix of reds and purples, with accents of silver and gold. Despite the size of the space, it almost felt… cozy. The carpet beneath their feet was clean but well trod, like this area of the house was frequented often. 

In comparison, the room he was led to was plain and felt spacious in a way that made Janus feel a little uncomfortable. Paranoia poking at the edges of his mind as he glanced around. There were a few doors, one that he could see lead to a balcony and the other that they’d come through, as well as two more that lead who knows where.

The room was decorated to the bare minimum, a plain white bedspread with a few decorative red cushions. The walls were still adorned with silver and gold, but the patterns seemed more simple and muted in here than they were outside. Prince lead him to the bed - where he found the sheets were wonderfully soft and felt lovely against his skin - and told him to rest. 

So rest he did, once Prince had left the room and the door clicked shut - he listened for a long moment and was surprised to hear no lock, he really wasn’t trapped here - Janus finally laid down, clutching one of the decorative pillows to his chest as he tried to fall back to sleep. 

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General tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

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[bridgyrose]

Heres a fallen Petals prompt for you:

V9 but, only Ruby fell, taking Cinder with her, into the Ever After. And for added longevity, Cinder's maiden powers dont seem to work in Ever After.

Have fun~

Ruby coughed as she pulled herself out of the water and onto the sandy beach, still a bit disoriented from her fall. Last she had remembered was grabbing onto Cinder and pulling her down with her in hopes that her teammates and her friends would be able to survive and help get others to safety, and yet, she still felt like all she had done was fail. Failed to keep Atlas safe, failed to keep Salem away from the lamp. 

She finally rolled over to look up at the sky, taking a deep breath to try to relax. It wasnt the first, nor would it be the last, time that she had been separated from everyone, but it was certainly the first time that she had no idea where she was or even if her teammates were okay. She pulled out her scroll on instinct to check her teammates’ aura, only to groan when she saw the “No Signal” message. 

Without further delay, Ruby picked herself up and started to make her way deeper into the forest by the beach, almost dragging with each step. Nothing had gone to plan, but at least no one got hurt because of her. At least, not that she was aware of. Neo was still left up there with her teammates and while she knew they could handle her, it was still a worry in the back of her mind. 

“Stupid vines!” 

Ruby paused as she heard Cinder’s voice, looking around to find her. She heard her call out again and followed the sounds of her grunting as she tried to free herself from a mass of vines that seemed to curl around her. 

“Get off of me!” Cinder tried to cut through the vines using her grimm claws, only to watch the vines start to grow back and wrap around her wrists. “I’ll tear through you if I have to!” 

Ruby sighed and shook her head as she made her way to the vines. “You might as well quit struggling, you only seem to be making it worse.” 

Cinder glared, but stopped trying to move. “And what do you know? You’re the reason we’re here in the first place!” 

Ruby winced and took a breath to try to push that thought out of her mind. “And if we want to get back, we’ll have to work together to figure out where we are and how to get home.”

“And why should I trust you?” 

“Because you dont have a choice.” 

“I could kill you here and be done with you.” 

“And if you do that, then you’ll have to traverse this place on your own.” Ruby looked around for a sharp stick to help cut Cinder out of the vines. “And if you kill me now, then you’ll be alone. And you’ll never make it back to Remnant.” 

Cinder frowned. “And what makes you think I cant get to Remnant without you?” 

Ruby picked up a branch from the ground and snapped it to give it a point. “For one, you’re still struggling to get yourself out of those vines, which means you cant use your maiden powers to help. And two-” she stabbed at one of the vines and paused as it recoiled and then wrapped around the stick. “-I think this might be a trap.” 

“You think?” 

Ruby took a step back as the vines started to make their way to her and wrapped around her legs, pulling her into the tangled mess with Cinder. She struggled to free herself until she heard shouting coming closer. She tried to ready herself as best she could, only to pause when she saw a few mice come out from the brush. 

“Our trap worked!” one of the mice called out. “We can finally fight back against our predators!” 

“Your predators?” Cinder let out a growl as she asked. “So let me get this straight: we fell into a trap that was set up to protect mice?!” 

“Hunter mice!”

“Hunter mice…” 

Ruby sighed and started to struggle a bit. “Can you let us out? We didnt realize this was your trap and we uh… we’re not actually here to hurt you.”

The hunter mice looked the two over before finally relenting to cut the girls out of the vines. 

Cinder rubbed her wrists and glared at Ruby, then started to walk off. “I’ll find my way back.” 

“We dont even know where we are!” Ruby looked between the hunter mice and Cinder before finally groaning and following after Cinder. “Where are you going?” 

“To the tree,” Cinder said as she pointed to the tree that seemed to loom over everything. “Its at least tall enough to give me an idea on how to get out of here.” 

“And you’re planning on going alone? What if there’s something out there that tries to kill you?”

“Why do you care?” 

“I…” Ruby paused as she tried to find an answer, but couldnt. Why did she care if Cinder ended up killed wherever this place was? Without Cinder, she and her team could finally stand a chance to stop Salem since she’d never be able to get the Beacon relic without her. Though, that did mean if she died… She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Because… of the maiden powers.” 

Cinder frowned. “That’s why you care?” 

“Yes… no…” Ruby lightly punched a nearby tree. “Why does this have to be so complicated?” 

“The only thing that’s going to be complicated is getting back home-” Cinder paused and sighed when she pushed away a bit of grass and found herself overlooking what she could only describe as a child’s imagination. “-because we’re dead, arent we?” 

Ruby walked over next to her and looked over what she could find. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore as she started to recount everything. “The hunter mice, the tree…” she paused and started to look for anything else familiar. “We’re in the Ever After.” 

“The Ever After?” 

“Yeah. This is all like the story from the *Girl Who Fell Through the World*. All we have to do is follow the story-” 

“Follow the story?” Cinder scoffed. “And how do you know that’ll work?” 

“I dont, but Alyx made it out through the tree and its our best shot on getting out of here together. I… I dont have Crescent Rose, and you dont seem to have your maiden powers. So either we work together and get out of here, or we run into the Jabberwalker and run into further trouble because neither of us can fight it.” 

“I’ll take my chances.” 

Ruby hesitated. “And where are you going?” 

“To find my way to the tree. Alone.” 

Ruby sighed and dropped to the ground, starting to feel lost. She still had no idea how to get to the tree and even if she could, she still didnt even know how to get home from it. She wiped a tear from her eyes and paused as rain started to fall around her. 

“Dont cry,” a small voice called out to her. “I can help you get to the tree.” 

“You… can?” Ruby asked as she watched a small mouse make its way to her. “What’s your name?” 

“Name?” The mouse paused and sat down. “I… dont actually have a name. I’m still looking for my purpose.” 

“Then would it be alright if I give you one?” 

The mouse nodded. 

“What about… Little?” Ruby asked as she held her palm out. “Do you like that?” 

“I do,” Little said as they made their way onto Ruby’s hand. “And what do I call you?” 

“Ruby.” Ruby sighed and put Little on her shoulder. “And you’re sure you’re okay with taking me to the tree? It looks like its a long way.” 

“I dont mind at all. And maybe I’ll be able to find my purpose along the way.”

[mayday-jd]

holy shit this movie was amazing.

welcome back to me watching all the trolls movies in (almost) one sitting with breaks in between to process the colorful trip I'm on rn

TROLLS 2 WAS VERY GOOD

from the great writing in the world building, themes and characters, designs and sound of the other trolls and generally this movie being short but fun makes it a blast to watch

so I'd give it a 9/10 which makes this the best trolls movie out of the whole trilogy

now onto my thoughts

—————

• so first off let's talk about my main man branch

did ever mention how I love this guy?? 😊

but what I love most is him in this movie because wow this man is head over heels for poppy lmao

and ofc there's some other stuff but let's talk broppy for a bit

so I already watched trolls 3 so ik how branch and poppy's relationship looks like in the future but this movie is also an important step in their relationship because there's a massive problem here :

poppy does not listen to anybody.

"I've always been by your side since the moment I've met you" - poppy (trolls 3)

while that is true here it's more like branch goes along with wtv poppy's doing because he's absolutely smitten and so he ends up doing all the listen and bending to what poppy wants while she doesn't give back any of that to branch or anyone else around her

one of the turning points for branch in the movie is after they go to the funk kingdom but the seeds to that change are planted when hickory tells branch that he's doing all the listening not poppy

so they argue and get separated until they reunite at the end of the movie

but that's more for when I talk about poppy and oh boy do I have some things to say. . .

I also like that, contrary to poppy's kind of judgy reaction to the other trolls, branch is all for the music trolls' lifestyles and music

it's shown more in the dance battle between the kpop and the reggaeton trolls but there's also a comment he makes when he hears the sad country song at lonesome flats

"It's kind of sad, but life is sad sometimes. So, I kind of like it."

meanwhile poppy immediately thinks that the country trolls are miserable and don't know how to have fun

but again that's for when I get into poppy's turn 😒

which speaking of.....

• I wanna say that I am by no means a poppy hater

that said this girl has been on my NERVES for the majority of this movie (WHICH IS A GOOD THING!!)

so when poppy gets told about the other trolls' existence by her dad she's excited to get them all tgt cuz she thinks barb genuinely wants to unite all trolls and not yk assimilate them or anything

so she sets off on a journey to meet barb, give her the pop string and have a massive party with all the trolls

but really she's not doing this just because of that no no no

poppy's insecure about being a bad queen

and makes it everyone's problem.

because when her, branch and biggie make it to symphonyville, the land of the classical trolls, they're told and literally see the carnage left by barb, poppy's quest changes

now she wants to save everybody and stop barb from turning everyone into rock trolls

because that's what a good queen would do right?? she'd get rid of the problem entirely instead of going back home and protecting her ppl who are literally under her care because that would be giving. up. 🙂

so let's not listen to biggie or branch who are telling her this is a terrible idea because that's simply not what poppy wants to hear since they're against her totally awesome plan

now let's talk about my favorite section of the movie