#I’m protected & guided so ILL BE SO GOOD — it’s just very strange because I see her doing what she’s doing and she looks like a cartoon —

[thinkpink212]

Not to sound like my grandmother; but Hell’s foot soldiers have being working overtime these few days to really shake me and mines, but they’ll be out of employment when they find out I’m not the one or the two -go play with someone else 🙏🏾

[88088-8]

Idk how i feel. I guess I’ve been doing pretty good lately. But today talking to Derek about all the things him and Ashley are going through really brought up some old feelings that I have with Caleb. Unresolved trust issues. I wish i could just erase it. Or believe him. But i always feel like there’s more that he is hiding from me. Or something huge that he’s scared to ever tell me. I just want the truth though. I hate the unknown of it all.

I mean lately our relationship has been doing really well. And we are both sober and seem to have no issues with sobriety. (I’m loving it, im the healthiest I’ve ever been. Mentally. But obviously im still working through stuff) — i can tell he’s really trying. He’s really making me and halie a priority. He’s not perfect but its the effort. The effort is all i ever wanted. I will never expect you to be perfect. Just trying. —- but i still get these random feelings like he wants to tell me something but is scared so he holds back. Like there’s some lingering information wedging a wall between our love force.

Maybe im crazy. Maybe one day ill read back on this and know i was right and have the truth. Only time will tell.

One thing i know is im very sensitive to people’s energy. More so lately. Yes im full of anxiety but just being around someone going through a really hard time brings me down. It’s strange though because i can disassociate sometimes. And feel completely numb. Like through the process of grieving Kindyn’s death at first. But recently i had my music on shuffle and good news by Mac miller came on while me and Caleb were on our way to Austin and it literally felt like it was Kindyn talking to us. It’s so weird because i was closer to Kaitlynn. But i miss Kindyn more. I guess its because, he had more of a constant in our lives in the most recent years.. but seeing Kindyn in the casket hit me harder than seeing Kaitlynn. And im mad that their names have similarities. But it may not mean anything.

Also, I’ve felt connection to lion fish lately. And i looked up the meaning. It’s basically a guide saying to let go of old negative feelings. Let me double check…. BRB 

++++++++++ taken from a website down below+++++++++

In general, Lionfish symbolism is telling you to let out negative emotions and free yourself of pain. In other words, like the Bluebird, it asks you to take charge of your life and protect your happiness. Seeing this animal is also a sign that you will soon encounter a stroke of good luck in your career. In this case, the spirit animal reminds you to seize opportunities as they present themselves to you. Moreover, the Lionfish’s meaning could be asking you to remain strong in the face of adversity.

Furthermore, Lionfish symbolism encourages you to have a bit of faith in the goodness of people. When this power animal visits you, it asks you to let your guard down and express your authentic self. Like the Tasmanian Devil, this sea creature also teaches you to stand by your word and not let anything or anyone sway you.

Alternatively, encountering the Lionfish could be a sign that you are short towards your loved ones, creating tension and conflict. Surprisingly, this could be because you have spent too much time around them. It is best to tell these people that you need to distance yourself for a little bit. This issue is not personal but merely a case of social exhaustion. Your heart will know when the time is right to come back.

[supercasey]

So I've been playing The Hades Game like fucking mad for the last few weeks, and although I'm not very far in it (at least, I don’t think I am; I’ve only beat Hades once!), I'm absolutely in love with it! Anyways, a certain idea has been kicking around in my head for awhile now, so I thought I'd share it with y'all; feel free to tell me what you think of it! (Warning: spoilers for when you beat Hades the first time!)

Anyways, I've already seen a really cool AU post for if Demeter raised Zagreus on the surface by herself (which you can find HERE; please check it out, the outfit for Zag alone is an amazing concept, and I love the artwork!!!) but I keep thinking about an AU where, after Zagreus dies at birth, Persephone runs away and takes his wrapped up body with her.

On the surface, she reconnects/reunites with her mother Demeter, and with her aid, the two of them manage to resurrect the newborn baby, though now he has more white in his hair than anything else. After that, Persephone sends Hades a letter to tell him that Zagreus is alive and well (because she actually has some fucking class), before proceeding to raise Zagreus on the surface with her mother, far away from the entrance to hell. The Olympians also help her out a bit, but mostly they just help by hiding Zagreus when it’s necessary.

(The rest is under a cut ‘cus this got a bit long, sorry!)

Years pass in relative peace, until Zagreus is about as old as he is in-game (I think he’s around 20-25ish???) and is living well, working with his mom and grandma to take care of their gardens and live peacefully away from mankind; he especially loves tending to the animals and guiding lost mortals to safety. However, one day while foraging for fruit in the deepest corners of his mother’s signature garden, Zagreus happens across a strange man in long robes, who introduces himself as Thanatos.

The two men get along swimmingly from minute one, and after agreeing to meet with each other again soon, they leave and tell their families/friends all about the experience, having no clue who they are to each other. After all, Thanatos was told growing up that his lord’s first wife died giving birth to their first and only child, who was a stillborn, and Zagreus thinks his father died of disease (his mom didn’t have to heart to tell him anything bad about his dad). Needless to say, they’re gonna be in for quite the shock soon.

Cue Hades losing his shit and calling on Thanatos, Megaera, and Achilles to go find his progeny and bring him home; he gives them special permission to leave the Underworld without any resistance, trusting Than to lead the way back to Zagreus. Achilles is less than thrilled to be performing such a morally grey task for his master, but Meg and Than are eager to prove themselves, so he begrudgingly agrees to help, even if it hurts his conscience to do so.

Persephone and Demeter also freak the hell out on their end, scared shitless by the fact that Death incarnate has just met their son/grandson, and they’re worried that he plans on coming back again soon. Demeter suggests sending Zagreus to live with the Olympians until this all blows over, but Persephone disagrees, wanting her son to stay nearby in case he grows ill (it’s implied that she’s a bit overprotective of him, mostly because she’s afraid of him dying again; this also means she refuses to let him know that he’s in any danger, believing it would only make things worse for him in the long-run). Frustrated but understanding her daughter’s pain all too well, Demeter at least convinces her to call on the Olympians for aid, which Persephone agrees to do.

The gods promise to help of course, but... well, they're low-key lying; they wanna see how this plays out first.

After several days of traveling through hell (literally), the “let’s kidnap Zagreus” gang makes it to the surface, and they immediately head to Persephone’s garden. All this time, Zagreus has no idea that he’s being targeted, so he goes about his chores as usual, only to run into Than again, and hey, he brought some more friends for him to meet! Zagreus is friendly with all of them, being raised to be very polite by his guardians, and while he’s busy chatting with Than and Achilles, he doesn’t notice Meg sneaking behind him. Just as Zagreus is rattling on about how the animals have been faring this summer, Meg stabs Zagreus in the back with a blade coated in Hades’s blood, cursing him to belong to the Underworld again.

With Zagreus now unconscious from a sedative that was mixed with the blood, the trio hurry off with him back to the Underworld, but not without Persephone seeing what they’ve done to her son. Horrified, she begins to sob, and winter arrives in the mortal world without so much as a fall season in-between this and the summertime.

When Zagreus comes to, he finds himself in a bedroom similar to the one he has in the game, but it’s much cleaner and has less objects of personal value to him. Hades is standing at the foot of his bed when he wakes up, and very calmly, Hades tells Zagreus that he’s his father, and that from now on, Zagreus will be living in the Underworld with him and his people, where he so obviously belongs. It’s a shame his mother can’t be here, of course, but they just need to wait awhile, that’s all; surely she’ll come to her senses and return home soon, now that her husband and son are here.

Zagreus jumps out of bed and faces his father as soon as he’s done monologuing, ready to tell him off for what he’s done, but to his shock, Hades hugs him as soon as he’s on his feet, and admits that he’s waited for this day for a long, long time. He asks his son to please just accept that this is his home now, and despite still being a bit surprised (and subtly hugging Hades back because Longing), Zagreus tells him straight up that he can’t, that he has to get home, especially with winter coming in a few months!

Dejected but not overly surprised, Hades simply nods in acceptance, but he still warns Zagreus that it’s no use trying to fight it; he’s stuck here, now and forever, so he may as well get comfortable and try getting along with him, because no one’s going anywhere anytime soon. Zagreus is horrified, but he nods nonetheless, unsure of what to say or do just yet.

Later that night, as Zagreus is struggling to sleep in this new, unfamiliar place, Achilles comes to him and apologizes about what’s happened, and although he can’t magically fix everything for him, he tells Zagreus that it actually is supposedly possible to escape; it’s just that no one’s ever done it before. Driven by his desire for freedom and the thought of reuniting with his mother, Zagreus tells Achilles that he’s going to find a way out, no matter the cost. Achilles congratulates him on his tenacity, but warns him that it won’t be easy. Still, he’s willing to help Zagreus as much as he can.

From then on, I imagine the game playing out very differently from the original, with a rather frazzled and scared Zagreus trying to get home to his mom and grandma, but with none of his training from Achilles in this AU, he has to rely on something his mother taught him; his connection with earth and all it’s inhabitants. Or, in his case, his connection with the spirits of animals (a cross of his dad and mom’s powers). That’s right, I’m making The Hades Game into a fucking Pokemon-ripoff, but still with some rouge-like elements mixed in (mostly with Zagreus not keeping his animals after runs).

Having royally fucked up in not stepping in sooner to protect Zagreus, the gods end up helping him out by sending down animals associated with them for the young god to tame for a run (I’ll come up with them later). They usually offer a selection to choose from, and from there Zagreus can build up a team and use it to try and escape the Underworld.

To replace weapons, I like to think he’d have “signature” animals that can help him out for any of his runs, specifically ones from Achilles, Poseidon, Zeus, Demeter (once he reaches the surface at least once), and eventually even Hades gives him one if they bond together enough ((yes, it’s Cerberus... kinda; it’s a puppy version of him, otherwise he’d be OP as fuck)). Zagreus’s signature animals can all be given names, and they keep certain skills that they pick up through enough experience battling in the Underworld for Zagreus.

As for story-line stuff, Zagreus ends up in a very fish out of water situation as he tries to get to know everyone in Hades’s house (he’s still our kindhearted Zag, after all, and he knows most of them aren’t to blame, not even really Than!) while also focusing on his goal to get home to his mom. Hades ends up being a lot nicer to him in this AU, perhaps overly so, as he’s trying to make his son like him more in order to make up for lost time (and fill the hole in his heart that Zag’s initial death as an infant and Persephone leaving with him created). It’s part of the reason he’s even letting Zagreus try to escape; he wants him to learn that it won’t work on his own terms (and maybe also scare the kid so bad that he comes running to him for comfort afterwards).

Also, I should really note that Zagreus is 100% a sweet country farm boy in this AU, and he has no idea what the fuck is going on with pretty much anything in the Underworld, much to everyone’s astonishment. For example:

Meg: Gods, it must be weird getting used to everything down here, huh? Sick of stepping in bat shit yet? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it, and Dusa’s pretty good about cleaning it up to begin with. Zagreus: I mean, I guess? It’s not that different from chicken shit tbh. Meg: What the fuck is a chicken???

After that... yeah, I dunno. I’ll try playing Hades some more, see if I think up anything else that could be interesting, but for now, I hope at least someone ends up liking this dumb AU (if not, I’ll still like it... might even try my hand at drawing for it a bit tbh). Again, please check out the person who’s post/art I linked earlier in the post, ‘cus their art is really awesome and inspired me to include Demeter more in this AU!

[hypermanga]

Stuck in the middle (Thorin x reader; Thranduil x reader)

Requested by: @queenofmankind​

Request: Hi can I request an imagine where the reader is a fem elf who’s travelling with the dwarves company and Thorin feels the tug that tells him you’re his One although he never admit it, just to discover later on that you’re Thranduil’s lover when the Company arrived in Mirkwood.

Word count: 1456

A/N: Because today it is Richard Armitage’s - the actor who played Thorin - birthday , I decided to give this fic a happy ending for our favourite dwarf king 

~~~~~~~

Gandalf had asked you to join the Company of Thorin Oakenshield after you told him you wanted to leave any commodities behind and help more people in Middle Earth. Thanks to your long life span, you had seen the rise and fall of many empires, cities and kingdoms as well as many of  Middle Earth's secrets that only someone like you had the time to unveil. 

Convincing the Company of your use in the quest had been difficult to say the least mostly because of your race and the circumstances, given that you joined them in Rivendell.

"A woman in our quest? And a she-elf to say the least?" Gloin had exclaimed, making everyone mumble and complain about it. It seemed everyone apart from Bilbo and Gandalf was not happy about your addition, which you didn't take as an offence: you knew how the Mirkwood elves had treated the dwarves of Erebor in their time of need; In their position, you would've been just as wary, that's why you challenged yourself to change their opinion about you.

"Mithrandir" you greeted him at one of Rivendell's balconies "(Y/N)" "It feels strange to help the Company" you watched how the dwarves had fun laughing at a member who had just broken a table he was sitting on "I know I ask a lot, given their opinion on elves. Specially Thorin's"

Ah yes, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror. He hadn't been ecstatic with Gandalf's announcement, in fact, he had been quite vocal about his opposition to it "Why would I want an elf" his words had venom, especially at the mention of your race "Elves don't approve of our journey, and I wouldn't trust with my life those who have already abandoned my people once" His eyes had been on you all the time, anger and another emotion you couldn't have pinpointed. 

"I understand where he comes from, I only wish to prove him otherwise...That not all elves have the same mentality" "I wish you all the luck to you, he is a very prideful dwarf" Cups of wine clashed together as you enjoyed the Valley of Imladris' gentle breeze.

Disbelief, that's what Thorin had felt when his eyes landed on you and felt a familiar tug in his heart. For years, since he was a young dwarfling, he had dreamed of finding his One but after Smaug's attack, whatever hope he had faded, including the one of finding his one true love. Now, as he had you in front of him, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry: he had found you, yes, but you were from the same kin of those who didn't help his in their darkest hour.

~~~~

Your sword slashed the goblins with scary precision, one only elves could possess. Like a hurricane all fell around you, none coming near enough to inflict any kind of pain or become a menace "Thorin!" You saw a horde of those creatures approaching the Company's leader, who seemed too lost in fighting another group that he didn't notice them. As you made your way to him, you continued executing anyone who went toe to toe with your sword, your eyes trained in the dwarf king; Not even when you ducked or jumped did your eyes leave him. 

As you arrived at his position he turned around with wary eyes, which softened when he saw who you were, catching you off-guard "There are too many! Let's fight back to back!" As you said that, more goblins appeared, obliging Thorin to follow your strategy with a huff. 

His outside mannerisms and attitude, though, couldn't be far more different than how happy he felt that you were fighting together as one, like soulmates who knew exactly how the other fought.

~~~~

"Lady (Y/N)?" Everyone's eyes turned to you when Mirkwood's prince recognized your face "Hello Legolas" You faked a smile, not content at all with your kin's hostility "I demand you let us go" 

"That is not for me to decide, but Ada's" You could feel the hatred pouring from the Company's gazes, especially the Durin's folk, but decided to carry along with your plan, with all its consequences.

"I'm sure he will listen to what I have to say" You smiled, ignoring the guard who was checking you for any possible threats.

You were all guided to Mirkwood, where the Company was imprisoned while you were accompanied to the Throne Room "Ah, (Y/N)" The elf king smiled sweetly from his antler throne "Thranduil" "What can I do for you, Nin Meleth?" "You must set free the Company. Their intentions are nothing but noble, as well as their quest" "(Y/N)...You understand I can't let them go without a bargain right?" "If you were a good king who empathized more with the other kins perhaps" "Watch your tongue. While I hold you very dear in my heart I won't hesitate to raise my voice if necessary" "I understand, but-" 

Your conversation was cut short as the guards brought Thorin up. He looked dishevelled, a far cry from how you had met: his hair was covered in spider webs, and the ends of his coat soaked in dirty water and mud. And even like that, he still stood proud as the rightful King Under the Mountain, with qualities you'd to admit Thranduil didn't possess.

"(Y/N)" You nodded at Thorin, stopping yourself from siding with the dwarf king, scared of making the situation worse than what it was about to become.

The negotiations didn't go very far, as Thorin wasn't about to give Thranduil Erebor's gems in exchange for the other's help, not when he had deceived his people once 

"Imrid amrad ursul!" With those words, you knew Thorin had sealed his fate. for Thranduil was quick to dismiss him, but not before playing another card.

"(Y/N), you will stay here with me. This little adventure of yours ends here" "But-" "I will not repeat myself, dear" Thranduil beckoned you a second time, hand extended which you took with distaste "What?" "Has she not told you? My, my (Y/N), and here the dwarf thought he had any chance with you" Your brows shot up in surprise "My lord, what are you saying?" "I can't believe you have been so naïve my dear" Thranduil smiled, pleased that his pet name infuriated Thorin even more "He's obviously infatuated with you...May I adventure myself to think you are his One?" 

Thorin looked at the other king defiantly "You do not know anything about me!" "Oh but you know I do" He just smiled wickedly "Thorin, I didn't know..." "Don't make this any worse" Thorin's voice cracked, defeat etched in his features "I do not wish to do so! In fact, I want to make everything clear. Yes, I have been infatuated with Thranduil for centuries. He was a good elf, one that seemed to take over the world and protect it from any danger" You turned your head to Thranduil "But not anymore" At that, Thorin's eyes widened, as well as Thranduil's "I'm sorry, but you are nothing but a shadow of what you were: you let the forest fall ill, the darkness has possessed it with the spiders. You didn't take part in defending another kin's kingdom you were allied to, and now that you could make amends you decide to be egotistical!" Thranduil's face was like an open book: he felt betrayed, hurt that you decided to side with the dwarves instead of your lover "I'm sorry, but this ends here" You freed yourself from Thranduil's weak grasp and descended the throne's stairs "Is that quest more important than me?" "Yes, it is the right thing to do, but you can't seem to figure it out"

Next thing you knew, the guards were dragging you to the dungeons alongside Thorin, who thrashed around to free himself before being thrown in a cell "You have been blinded (Y/N). Trust me, this will be for the better" Those were the last words you heard from Thranduil before the cell's door closed. 

"(Y/N)?" Balin exclaimed, upon seeing you "What are you doing here?" "Thranduil and I didn't see eye to eye on some matters. I thought I could put some sense in him, but he's not the man I fell in love with a long time ago. I'm sorry I couldn't be more useful"

It seemed like some members of the Company wanted to talk to you regarding the "Thranduil's lover part", but Thorin quickly shushed them, not wishing to put you even more down "I'm sure everything will be alright" "How?" "We still have a chance"

A chance that would present itself in the form of a very witty hobbit called Bilbo.

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[a-wandering-ghoulette]

Copia as Papa: the blue papal ensemble first thoughts

I won't beat about the bush: I’m convinced the color is important. We’re used to Popes in black (yeah PE1 wore white, but can't we agree it’s not that surprising?) and now we have this strange bird showing off. So much can be said about this color! Let me add “few” things which, to me, seem accurate or would have personnaly inspired me in the choice of this color, based on the middle age, plague-ish and Renaissance theme following Copia so far:

First of all, starting from the XIIth century blue is a new, trending color, symbol of wealthyness and aristocracy. Deep and vivide tons are the most expensive. It’s said blue colors used to be more expensive than those using gold powder.

During the XIIth century, blue already tended to replace black even in the funeral rite and religious objects.

Catholics didn't accepted the use of blue that easily. Wearing blue was considered as a surge of pride. Actually, they didn’t really care about what people wore but still, it was unworthy of a good Christian. It was a true moral fight opposing the big bad blue of the nobles and Protestants to the imperious red and discreet black of the Christianity.

Copia as a Cardinal often wore red and black, traditional colors, and seemed a little bit clumsy and oopsy oops sorry Nihil aha ‘living now byebye~. Now he’s in blue and he’s the new Pope and he's like eh there can be only 1 Pope, shoo~! Mere coincidences, most certainly, but I wanted to highlight this.

After the Black Plague strucked Europe, wearing blue wasn’t well seen. First, because it’s expensive to produce and european countries are ruined. So decreats were made to stop this hunger for luxurious textile goods. Secondo, ethic: to keep a christian tradition of modesty and righteousness. Young people and women were targeted and repression on innovative ideas were made bc they were “disturbing the established order and moral”. Finally, ideology: a need to initiate segregation between classes and genders. To maintain strong barriers and avoid mixes between classes is a priority and the outfit -the complexity + color- is the first sign of social classification. To break these borders, it’s to break the order desired by God, which is both dangerous (boooo fear the return of the plague!) and sacrilagious.

About the Holy Mary™ (bc I saw posts about that and I know some of you are just joking around and it’s 100% okay! I’m adding that for those who may want/need more infos). Blue started to be associated to Mary during the XIIIth century, and let's be honest, the most noticeable symbolism in that is they used an expensive pigment to depict Mary bc she is a very important biblical figure. Blue wasn’t that valorised symbolicaly speaking at the time, it was too early, not trending enough yet.

So according to me, here Copia is basically showing off all his pride to the eyes of the world and most certainly his will to be a great leader, while sticking with this idea of “death” surrounding him since he first appeared. He’s totally breaking the habits established so far (it already started with Prequelle released. I meaaaan....!!!).

(For the most curious soul: read the book Blue-The History of a Color by Michel Pastoureau. Good shit, well written and documented!)

If I can easily speculate on the color and complexity of his ensemble, when it comes to the embroidery I admit I don't have brain Brig enough lol. However, I instinctively want to shout: “I see astronomy mixed to alchemy here, all followed by Baroque like arabesque, aaaah!!”, but I wonder: what’s going on here?

The first thing I spotted is the G ending on a star, as if it’s pointing at it, wanting us to look at it closely. Indeed, it guide our eyes to it. Is there a comparison to do with Ursa Major and the North star?  I’m kinda confused bc of its look. The symetrical shapes makes sens with the whole aesthetic of the outfit, but the G doesnt look like anything else on this ensemble. Everything is full of arabesque or fine lines, and here we have a thick sharp shaped G (and is it silver or blue? I wanna see HD close ups! ;;). Don’t get me wrong, I think it looks super cool! I’m simply confused because I feel like I’m missing the point here. I’m curious to see what you think about it! (EDIT rightafterpostingthis: Wait, constellation ! I'm stupid aha, it's a constallation.)

We also have this:

I instinctively see cardinal points and the compass rose. Very important when you observe the sky. Again, with the G pointing at the star, this symbol bring the notion of direction, discovery, travel, guiding us/ourself. It’s a tool meant to help us... And the G is centered. But let’s not speculate more than necessary, it’s a bit too early for that.

Alchemy, the Heptagrams :

I don’t know much about them tbh. It’s some good alchemy stuff, about universe and perfection, and it’s also used in occultism/paganism, and catholicism (7 days of the creations + protection against... the evil?).

About the stones. Lot of blue ones apparently. Let’s say it’s meant to be saphirres: stones use to make amulet for travellers, protection against the plague and various nervous illness and such. Note that “saphirre” also refered to “lazulis” during Renaissance(people were confusing them. Both blue stone, can't blame them). Another reason why blue is such an important color here! Fun fact: saphirre also symbolize honesty, fidelity and truth.

Overall, the ensemble looks like a mystic map of the sky and I just love it! These notions also go along with my idea that Copia's character development is bases on Middle Age/Renaissance humanism and opening of minds toward the world, letting go of old beliefs. I mostly linked it with astronomy and alchemy, with historical/social bacground, but I’m pretty sure people into astrology and paganism will surely have a lot to say as well! Let’s see what others interpretations you’ll come with... And what Tobias actually has in mind!

[fluorescenthell]

Going Mad At A Wednesday Night

chaotic ramble about multiple topics while my sanity is slipping away, again.

1. Rage Is Visiting Bring The Fine China So I Can Break It 

rage visited me today, in between seconds when and where my mind stood bare, rage whispered violence and i gritted my teeth with homicide tearing at my skull, i know that i don’t crave to cause suffering, i know deep in my very heart that i don’t want to hurt anyone. it’s surely a deep rooted trauma that i am yet to uncover i just need to break myself to find it and try to do something to mend me. then hopefully this rage will bid me farewell and leave with all of its hurricanes and quakes.

2. God You Motherfucker

lately, as in the last three years, as my mental state deteriorated i directed all my rage and fury toward god, i would look at the sky and says:” i bet you liked that you sadistic fuck.”. nothing but loathing and madness, i can no longer think of the “merciful” without simmering with rage. i guess that’s because i blame him for everything, and to be honest he’s to blame. i don’t have it on me to go on and on about my religious trauma, it sucks and i gotta thanks my fucked up family for it. i only like the ideas of majestic angels surrounding me day and night to protect me but also those bitches be snitching so yeah i got that too.

3. They Are Watching Me And I’m Not Scared

i don’t believe everything my schizo head tells me, like there’s a fifty-fifty chance, a possibility you know? i don’t believe it but i also don’t completely dismiss it. and i half believe in a strange way that beyond us and the universes and god and reality somewhere in an unrecognized space that can be only known by unknown plane of existence in which the mind is introduced to the knowledge of entities who communicate with me and have bigger plans for me.

you see, since i was 14 i knew - or sensed- about the existence of a being and their plans for me, i felt like i was on a quest a journey, but with an unknown end goal and unknown trails, i always thought it was god himself so i became super religious and paranoid about committing sins, i stopped talking to anyone i isolated myself more, then at 19 i guess it clicked that maybe it’s not god.

some pure entity, not good not evil, only pure and they watch over me, they are in everything but they are not everything. they guide me as the watcher.

do i believe this completely with my whole heart? no, but a piece of me do and it wishes for them to be true. i guess its because i feel safe with the mere thought of them.

4. Did it Hurt? to Know That I Can’t Feel Love

i have been feeling very insecure lately, it physically hurt. i feel. no i know that i am so unlovable. i feel my personality is awful and i have nothing to offer. i am just a shell consumed by mental illness, but the thing is i have always been feeling like this, since i was a little kid.

it’s not new for me to feel out of place, alienated, ignored. and no i am not saying this out of self pity, I'm stating facts. but still i do wonder, is my perspective of reality really distorted? maybe. 

but i also isolate myself, i don’t open up to people, i don’t give anyone the chance to know me, i am suspicious of others, but i crave meaningful friendships, and the cycle loops back.

and strangers random kindness and acquaintances genuine care for my wellbeing struck me like lightning, and i wish i had and have people who actually care, because i know i care about people- in spite of the fact i feel nothing toward them- and try my best to help them.

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

THE END 

i can’t wait to look back on this and cringe i basically need help or be hit by a car

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Seal Yourself Away || Morgan & Skylar

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @theskyeandsea & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan finds a lost seal in the woods.

CONTAINS: drug use, body horror, chronic illness, body dysphoria

Wandering through the woods, Skylar ran her fingers on the bark of the trees that surrounded her, enjoying the rough sensation against her skin. Her boots left dark tracks through the snow as she haphazardly moved through the forest. She knew it should be cold, even with as warm as she ran, she knew that she should be shivering in her light hoodie. Mostly she felt the familiar, comforting embrace of Bliss, that buoyed her up and kept her up and up and up. But, she could feel the crash starting to come on, could feel the ache in her bones and the sensitivity of her peeling skin. Her fingers slipped into the pocket of her jacket and she pulled out the small baggie that Gabe had sold her. He’d told her that she’d take a little journey, that she wouldn’t feel anything, that it would be like nothingness. She wanted that. She did. As good as the Bliss was, the crash was awful. She’d woken up in the middle of the night, sheets stained with blood from where the sloughing skin had peeled and cracked, her entire body wracked with pain.

Pulling out one of the pills, Skylar popped it in her mouth and swallowed as she continued to walk through the woods. She wasn’t sure what it would do, but as the feeling in her legs began to slip away, as her fingers tingled and went numb-- before she realized what was happening, the world was suddenly sideways. She was dimly aware that she must have fallen over, that her legs must have buckled underneath her. And then, she wasn’t aware of anything at all.

Morgan knew she was coasting on some big Come to Gaia high with her daily trips into the woods, but maybe the feeling would last long enough to turn into habit and she’d have something actionable to rely on when she felt herself coming undone or latching on too tight to people. She picked her way over the frozen underbrush, plucking at low hanging boughs of pine to burn later as the old mundane witches did when they needed to heal. She was so wrapped in the meditative simplicity of her task, she didn’t notice Skylar until she stepped on her.

“Oh, shit! I’m sorr--Skylar?” The girl had a glazed look of ‘nothing and nowhere’ in her eyes that chilled Morgan with its familiarity. Slowly setting her basket down, Morgan knelt next to her. “Hey-- Skylar? Skye? What are you doing out here by yourself, huh?”

Where she went, Skylar wasn’t quite sure. But, it was like a dream while it was happening. It was like the best night’s sleep she’d never had, the way that the drugs pulled her deep into a sinking embrace. Her body was cold and still and her mind was free. Free of the body that she hated. Free of this form that she never wanted to be. She was coasting, she was dreaming, she was in a world that was nothing like the reality that had been forced upon her. It was everything she wanted.

And like everything she wanted, it came to an end. As awareness and life returned to her body, Skylar dimly realized that someone was next to her, that there was someone else in the wintery woods. Her fingers twitched slightly at her sides and her eyes, half-lidded opened with a very slow, dazed blink. The person was next to her and as their features slipped haphazardly into place, Skylar was able to recognize them.“Mo-rgan?” Her voice was rough, the way it sounded when she woke up. “What?”

Morgan brushed back the young girl’s hair and tried to guide her upwards to sit. “Yeah, it’s me, honey,” she said. “Long time no see. You were laying so still, I didn’t even see you there. You’re lucky I didn’t step on your fingers, huh?” Her voice was soft and comforting, like this was just a happy accident and nothing to worry about. But she couldn’t help but hear Leah’s warnings in her head about the girl. Decisions, consequences. Morgan peered in to Skylar’s eyes, searching them for some sign of clarity. “Do you wanna tell me what you were doing out here? You seem halfway frozen.” She bit back what else she wanted to say, I’m worried. Maybe there was an explanation for this that wasn’t completely heartbreaking, something that could be mended with just a little attention…

Body still limp from the drugs coursing through her system, Skylar did her best to do as Morgan urged her to. She sat up slowly, her head bobbling as she did so. Her neck felt weak and stiff and she could feel how cold it was, how really cold it was. But, her body was too tired to shiver, so she just sat there, blinking in the afternoon light. “Yeah, it’s been,” Skylar blew out a puff of air, vapor rising from her lips. “It’s been a while!” She said, her tone blithe and carefree. As Morgan asked why she was out here, Skylar shrugged as much as she could with her cold, stiff limbs. “I just wanted to be outside for a bit. I didn’t realize how pretty it gets out here, not really. I’ve spent sooo much time, just sitting inside. It’s so pretty out here.” She said earnestly.

Morgan picked out the leaves and damp out of Skylar’s hair as she spoke. She couldn’t feel how cold Skylar was, but she could take a guess from how much the dirt had stained her clothes. She braced Skylar’s head and tried to stable her enough to meet her gaze. “It is pretty, yeah. I love coming out here during the day. The snow sparkles like glitter and everything’s so quiet…” Morgan murmured distractedly. Skylar’s eyes wouldn’t focus, and the lilt in her voice was so strange and unlike her. Skylar wasn’t just content or happy, she was blissed out and numb and...fucking universe, she was high. A good trip, sure, but also one that might catch her hypothermia. “You uh, ook a little woozy there, honey. Can I take you back to my car? Get you some hot cocoa to warm you up?” And then you can tell me what you’re doing stringing yourself out in the cold. Morgan gave her an encouraging smile and stood, ready to pull Skylar up with her.

The coldness of Morgan’s hand against her head barely registered to Skylar, it was all cold. Everything was cold and still and pretty. Pretty because the world had finally slowed down to meet her. There was just too much going on, too much chaos and pain. And with the pills, everything had slowed to a crawl in her mind. Running her hand over her arm, Skylar brushed off some of the snow that had gathered on her skin. She stared at it for a moment before taking in Morgan’s question. “Nope! I’m good here.” She said, not wanting to move. She didn’t know if her legs would work, not like this. She was distantly aware of the fact that her legs were still numb and tingling, the barest hints of sensation present. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’m good!” She said, offering a thumbs up at the woman.

Morgan smiled goodnaturedly at Skylar, though her dread was only mounting higher in her chest. “I’m glad you’re not hurting right now, but you are going to get sick or frozen if you stay out here. Come on.” She scooped the girl up in her arms, gathering her basket as she did. “I’m gonna get you in the car and then I’m gonna hopefully figure out a way to sober you up so we can talk. There’s better ways to take the edge off, you know?” She gripped Skylar as tight as she could, trying to keep her long legs from dangling on the ground. She was hardly dressed for the weather. How much had she been thinking when she left? How much time did she spend like this?

There was a lot going on and Skylar just couldn’t get her head around it all. Everything was happening so much and Morgan was here and the world was speeding up again, all while she was still here. On the ground. Stuck in place. And she wanted to stay there among the trees, in the snow. At Morgan’s words, Skylar blinked in confusion, starting to protest. But, before she could get the words out, Morgan had already picked her up and she was being carried out of the woods. “What are you-- no, put me… stop,” Skylar said feebly, trying to push away from the other woman. But, her limbs refused to obey her, the effects of the pill lingering still. At the mention of the word sober, Skylar’s eyes narrowed. “I’m fine.” She was. She was fine, she was better than fine, she wasn’t hurting right now. And that was good.

As Morgan marched back to her car, she couldn’t help but notice how hard she wasn’t trying to keep Skylar from escaping her grip. She felt hollowed out in a way she hadn’t at the carnival. “Hypothermia in the woods isn’t fine, Skye,” Morgan sighed. “Or eaten by critters, or hunted because you were too out of it to protect yourself. You can do what you want, but I’m not leaving you until you’re fed, hydrated, and at least a little more clear-headed. We’re almost to the car where it’s nice and warm, okay? You think about where you want to grab a bite.” She could see the Subaru in the distance and sogged faster through the slush to get Skylar safe.

“I’m fine.” Skylar repeated. Those things weren’t going to happen, and even if they did, it didn’t matter, did it? None of this really mattered. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with that awful fear that gripped her every time something chased after her, at least she wouldn’t have to stare death in the eyes and know that they were going to try and kill her. If something happened, at least she wouldn’t face reality. “I don’t want your help, I don’t need it.” She said, shaking her head. Why was Morgan here? Why was she even here? Why did she care? Because they were friends? Maybe so, but she didn’t want Morgan to see her now. She didn’t want to see anyone. No one needed to see her, no one… needed her.

“I appreciate that you might have some kind of uncomfortable feeling about being seen like this and I’m crashing on whatever kind of trip this is. But I love you, Skylar, and I wouldn’t be a good friend if I left you on the ground while you’re in some kind of danger,” Morgan said firmly. “A burger isn’t gonna fix your malnutrition or change your life, and neither is a talk. I’d like to know where you’re coming from with this, what even--what hurts so much that this becomes your good?” She made it to the Subaru and wriggled her fingers around to get her keys and the doors unlocked without dropping Skylar. She didn’t like the sound of any of this. She knew Skylar had problems with being a selkie, that she’d once wanted a cure, but this wasn’t a cure to anything, right? There wouldn’t be a Skylar to live ‘normal’ if she wound up passed out dead somewhere.

Loved her? Was a good friend? Skylar’s hands came up to push against Morgan’s body, trying to squirm away from her. She didn’t love her, she didn’t care about her, she didn’t. “You don’t mean that.” She said, shaking her head once more. “You aren’t-- you don’t care about me.” She said. Because if Morgan did, why was she only showing up now? Why was she picking now to try and help her? She had been trying so hard for days and weeks and months to be what she should. Happy. Comfortable with herself. Confident in what she was. But now Morgan was here, to, to try and pick up the pieces? “Let me out of the car, Morgan.” She said, turning in the seat to stare intently at Morgan. She wanted to get out of the car, she didn’t want to be trapped in here with her. But, her legs barely moved from under her, her fingers were still stiff and cold. She couldn’t hardly move even if she wanted to.

Morgan punched her finger on the child safety lock button on the driver-side door and started to drive out of the woods. “I care about you, Skylar. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be spending this energy carrying you out of the woods and fighting you to get some nutrition. If I didn’t care, I would leave you to get sick or die. But we’re here and I am trying for you. You can say or feel whatever you want until we get to Al’s, unless you want to throw out a suggestion of your own.” She took her time slowly on the road, driving almost the speed limit exactly. Maybe if she took long enough, Skylar would let something spill, or exhaust whatever was in her system if she didn’t exhaust her feelings.

“Then let me out and let me go and just leave me alone.” Skylar said, fingers struggling to curl around the handle of the door. But, by the time she had managed to reach the handle, she found that the door wasn’t budging. It was locked? What? Had Morgan, had she used the child locks? Staring at the door for a long moment, Skylar turned to glare at her. “Let. Me. Out.” She said, fists forming at her side as she gritted her teeth together, the sharp points digging into her gums. “I don’t want to be here with you, I don’t want your, your… pity.” She said, trying to get a handle on the roiling emotions within her. Anger was bubbling in the pit of her stomach, hot and burning, but it was trapped below a sheet of numbness. The effects of the pill she’d taken? She didn’t really know, but it was all so overwhelming.

“Mmhm, I feel like you’re asking me to not care about you with that statement, but that’s just not something I’m willing to do. I love you Skylar, and I have a really hard time giving up on people as a general rule.” Morgan said. She winced as Skylar found the door handle and, consequently, the safety locks. “I don’t pity you, Skylar. I love you. And if you want to call someone else to come sit with you and get you fed and cleaned up, my phone is in the cup holder. But I don’t have it in me to abandon you while you’re like this. Don’t ask me to.” She let out a long breath and rolled, very slowly, to the next stop light. “I’d rather you tell me why you feel like you have to do this. What’s hurting you, Skylar?”

That word again, there it was. And the sound of it made Skylar’s blood boil over. “Then where were you? If you love me, where were you? Where’s anyone? Stop staying that you love me when you don’t, when no one does, and LET ME OUT.” Her voice raised to a shout and she slammed her hand against the side of the window. Her body was still limp and weak, but she could make a noise. And even if she couldn’t hear it, other people would. They’d be able to hear the pounding of her hand against the glass of the car door. “Let me out of this car, right now, or I’ll scream.” She said, some of her strength returning as she slammed her hand against the window again. “Let me out!”

“What, the times I said I’m here for you tell me what I can do? Or you don’t have to be fine, you can talk to me? Or you don’t have to hold onto your hurt? You can tell me anything? And then you refused to say anything else besides ‘I’m fine’? Those times, Skylar?” Morgan shot back. “I can admit I haven’t been the picture of stability, but you don’t get to say no one has ever tried for you!” Then Skylar was beating her head into the window and Morgan swerved into the wrong lane, screaming. “Skylar!” She swerved back and pulled on the girl with all her strength, keeping her as close to her and away from the windows as possible. “You’re not gonna scare a banshee’s girlfriend with the threat of screaming, Skylar. But you know what? Go ahead. This is more communication than I’ve had from you in months! This is an amazing change of pace! I’ll even drive all around town to make sure you really get everything out of your system!” Something must have been knocked loose in Morgan, because she was more than willing to do it. Anything seemed better than leaving Skylar to her own devices like this, no matter how batshit.

Her hands had only slammed against the window a few times before Morgan had wrapped an arm around her, pulling Skylar away from the side of the car. The coldness of Morgan’s hands around her shoulders sent a shiver down her spine that was quickly replaced with a hiss of pain as the woman pulled on her. The material of her shirt rubbed against one of the sores on her shoulder and Skylar wanted to pull away, wanted to fling herself back at the car door. But, the cotton wedged between Morgan and her own skin clung to the sore and pulled at the slightest movement. So instead, Skylar went limp. Her body sagged against the woman’s restraining grasp. The anger that had come over her in an instant, it had disappeared just as quickly as it had came. And she was left tired, limp, her muscles and bones aching and weary. She didn’t want this, didn’t want any of this. She’d never asked for this. Shouldn’t Morgan understand that? Why couldn’t Morgan let her be?

“Fucking, fucking, fucking universe…” Morgan hissed as she drove. She felt Skylar go limp, but didn’t dare let go completely. This was a whole other level of uncharted territory, but she couldn’t turn away now. How could she? “Talk to me, Skye. You want someone to show up for you? I’m here for you. At least until you sober up, minimum. Because you are not okay. I know a crisis when I fucking see one. I’ve been on the ass side of the concrete enough times to know.” Not with anything other than alcohol, but Morgan hoped the principle was still the same. “Tell me what hurts, honey. I’ve literally got all the time in the world.”

She knew a crisis when she saw one? Skylar’s entire life had felt like one giant crisis since she’d moved to this town. She let out a thin laugh, shaking her head at the other woman’s words. She wasn’t okay, she’d never been okay. And while she thought she’d gotten good at hiding it, that was the problem, wasn’t it? She hid it. So no one could ever know. No one ever knew. And now, when Morgan was asking what was wrong, Skylar couldn’t bring herself to tell her what had happened. She didn’t want to have to tell Morgan about what she’d been through, didn’t want to relive every awful, terrible moment she’d faced since that day at the carnival. “Everything. Everything hurts.” She said quietly. “I just don’t want to hurt anymore.” Skylar mumbled into the woman’s arm.

Morgan moved her hand up to press Skylar into her shoulder. She plucked at the messy clumps in her hair, sighing deep in her chest with dismay. “I’m sorry, Skye,” she said gently. “I know how a feeling like that can break you inside. I really, really do. But I don’t think this is how you make it better. I don’t think this is how the hurt really goes away. It’s still there when you wake up again, however fast you try to run or hide. But oh, Skylar…” She kissed the top of her head and wheeled around another bend in the road, taking the long way into town. “Can you tell me about your hurt? Because I wanna understand. I do.”

Morgan was sorry? Sorry didn’t change things. Sorry didn’t change the fact that her parents had abandoned her, that Ricky had abandoned her, that Winston had left town, that so many things were just falling apart and Skylar had no idea how to put them together. Sorry didn’t ease the pain. Curling her legs into herself in the chair, Skylar shook her head. “I don’t. I can’t. It’s too much, it’s all too much.” She didn’t want to talk about it, she could barely handle thinking about it. Really, she couldn’t even do that. The Bliss, the mushrooms, even the small pill she’d taken in the woods this morning, they’d all taken her away from the memories and thoughts that lurked in her mind. “I don’t want to hurt anymore.” She repeated.

“Then just one thing, Skylar,” Morgan said. “What if telling someone about one specific thing and trying to bury it somewhere that’s not yourself or your digestive system is how some of it hurts less? Because passing out only to come back down feeling just as broken and sad as before if not worse is no good, Skye. I love you, and I know other people love you too, and none of us want this for you. Help me take some of it out, huh?”

On some level, Skylar knew that what Morgan was saying made sense. That she should try to talk about it, that she should open up. But she couldn’t. She had been trying for so long, had been fighting to keep herself whole for so long. And she was tired, so very, very tired of it all. Shaking her head, Skylar brought her knees up into her chest, curling in on herself in the passenger seat of Morgan’s car. Maybe people cared about her, maybe they loved her, maybe the things that Morgan was saying were true. But, she didn’t want them now. It was too little, too late.

[amillionmillionvoices]

12/river trapped in a closet

She doesn’t quite know what to do. After dinner on the balcony, after they return to the TARDIS, after she showers and slips on familiar clothes.

There’s so much she wants to say, even more she needs to hear. Her stomach still hasn’t settled and she can feel her hearts pick up every time he looks at her. She feels like she’s on a precipice, getting ready to jump and for the first time in as long as she can remember, she doesn’t know if he’ll catch her. 

Isn’t certain anymore that he wants to. 

The Doctor, of course, says nothing. She finds him in the console room, and barely has a chance to breathe before he drags her off on a completely unnecessary tour. He takes her to the 19th deck where there’s a perpetual desert storm and down below where there’s a room full of nothing but carousels; he shows her the replica of Coney Island and a new library and a meadow with thousands of butterflies. 

“Not actually butterflies,” he admits as one lands on his arm. “Tiny robots.” 

He grins, like it’s a huge secret he couldn’t wait to share, and oh, how she’s missed him. She wonders how long he’s been alone, that he’s this eager, chattering away like he’s been starved for company. 

Though his voice is different, she still loves the sound of it, the way he narrates each room. She loves the smell of him, though she has to keep stopping herself from getting too close, from breathing him in. She wants to—wants, so much, to simply stop, to close her arms around him and bury her face in his shoulder and just stay there, for as long as he’ll let her. 

But he doesn’t seem interested in that this go around, and his touches are fleeting at best. The occasional hand on her spine, or her arm. He doesn’t take her hand. 

She supposes she deserves it. 

After Manhattan, after Hydroflax, Fleming and Ramone, she understands why he’d be reluctant to touch her. Now that he knows, now that he’s seen the parts of her she’s tried so hard to keep hidden from him, to protect him from. 

She doesn’t blame him. Couldn’t fathom it, but it hurts—the way his body doesn’t lean toward hers anymore. The way he barely looks her in the eye. She wonders what he sees, now, when he looks at her—a thief, a murderer.

A monster. 

He touches her arm again to steer her from the room, and she flinches. His touch is too light, too absent, too unintentional. 

She doesn’t deserve it, regardless, but her chest aches and she has to take slow, measured breaths, has to dig her nails into her palms to keep from crying. 

There will be time for that, later. When he finally tells her the truth. 

When he leaves. 

She tries to pay attention, to ask questions and offer the occasional innuendo that doesn’t make him blush any more. Instead, he just looks at her strangely, like he doesn’t know how to process the words, and she bites her tongue the next time there’s an opportunity; the very thought of making him genuinely uncomfortable makes her feel ill. 

Pushing the feeling aside, she forces a smile as he explains how the waterfalls work, and where the stream goes. It’s beautiful, and wonderful, and she wants to know everything but all she feels is tired. 

It’s been so long since she’s seen him, so long since Manhattan and she’s been running nonstop and she just wants quiet. Wants one night without nightmares, without his words ringing in her ears, things he’d said in his grief to make her angry, things he said to finally make her leave. 

Looking down at the railing, she stares at their hands, both curled around the metal. There was a time when she wouldn’t have hesitated to cover his fingers with hers; a time when he would have done the same. Now, he keeps himself at a distance, the physical space between them almost more than she can bear. 

And still, she smiles.

She smiles when he takes her to a diamond cave and smiles when he shows her badminton courts and smiles when he grumbles about the new training room the TARDIS made. She smiles behind a flinch when he touches her elbow to guide her into the room, at the same time he declares how horrible guns are and how much he hates having a whole room of them on board. 

Though the room is dark, she steps away from him, closing her eyes briefly against the lance of pain in her chest. 

She knows he hates weapons. She isn’t sure why it’s taken her so long to realize she isn’t an exception. 

Behind her, she hears the Doctor shuffle around for a light switch, hears the door click shut behind him. 

“It was right here the last time I was here,” he mutters. 

She doesn’t want to know why he was in here. The air around them feels dense, and she can’t see anything in the black, not even with the sliver of light from under the door. 

“It’s fine,” she says. “We can come back another time.”

She reaches past him and fumbles for the door handle. 

“It’s stuck.”

“No it isn’t,” he says, and she huffs. 

“Yes, it is.”

She feels him press up against her, and stumbles out of the way, knocking into something that feels suspiciously like a broom. 

“Doctor.”

She feels her way along the wall: shelving, a few bottles, pails, and what she hopes are sponges. 

The Doctor is muttering at the door. 

“You locked us in a cupboard.”

“I did not. It’s the training room.”

“It’s the maintenance cupboard.”

He kicks the door and then grunts. “Why would I take us to the maintenance cupboard? It was supposed to be a grand tour.”

“Sonic?”

“My other coat,” he says, and his voice is strange, almost disembodied. She can’t see him at all. 

“Seriously?”

“No, you’ve been Punk’d,” he says, and she tries not to flinch at his tone. 

“There must be some way out of here,” she says, trying to feel around; but it’s a small space, barely big enough for three people, and it’s only a moment before she bumps into him, and quickly steps away, shrinking herself into the furthest corner. She knocks over what she thinks is a mop, hears it hit something hard and then clatter to the floor. 

“Ow.”

She almost smiles. 

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he says, and her smile drops, her hearts like a lead weight. 

Part of her assumes he’s joking, but in the dark, without his smirk or glimmering eyes she can’t tell, and the words fall flat between them. She doesn’t have a reply, words stuck in her throat, and because he can’t see, she wraps her arms around her stomach in some kind of embrace. 

Oblivious, the Doctor sighs. “We’ll just have to wait until she lets us out.”

“She? The TARDIS?”

“Who else?” 

River frowns. “Why would the TARDIS lock us in a cupboard?”

There’s a beat, then, “Seriously?”

River glares, then realizes that won’t do any good and huffs loudly. “Forgive me for not being a mind reader.”

“If you were this would be a lot easier,” he says, low and almost reluctant, and her breathing stalls. 

She knew this was coming. She just thought, maybe, a few hours… that she could have just a few more hours with him, to say goodbye for good before he flies away. 

“River,” he starts, and she can hear the hesitation, the guilt, and slams her eyes shut.

“Don’t,” she manages. 

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say it.” She’s nearly begging, but she can’t bring herself to care. She can’t hear him say it’s over. That’s it’s been over for years. She knows, if he says it she’ll break and she can’t afford to, not here, not now. “I know—” Her voice catches and she clears her throat, tries again. “I know this isn’t what you want. I understand. I appreciate—everything.” Her eyes sting and she has to take two slow breaths to calm her trembling. 

“You appreciate it,” he echoes, and it sounds angry, bitter. 

“I just meant—I know what you’re trying to do, but it’s unnecessary. As soon as we’re out of here, I’ll leave you alone.”

He’s silent, and it weighs on her. In the dark; she starts to see faces, gaunt and howling. 

“If that’s what you want,” he says finally, flatly, and she resists the urge to laugh, almost hysterically.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she says. “What matters is that you—” She stops, hesitates. “What matters is that you’re happy,” she says quietly, and it feels like a secret, too hushed. 

“What makes you think I’m not?”

Because you haven’t kissed me, she thinks. Because you haven’t touched me. Because it’s been so long without me. 

Instead, she forces a laugh. “I can’t imagine anyone would be thrilled to discover their wife’s a homicidal maniac.”

“I already knew that,” he says, and she flinches, hard. 

Breathless, she barely manages, “Well, you certainly seemed surprised.”

“I’m always surprised when I’m with you,” he says, and she can’t tell what he means, how he’s saying it, his voice low and gruff in the dark. 

“Surprised isn’t happy.”

“No,” he agrees. “No, it isn’t.”

Tears sting at her eyes and she shuts them tightly. There’s not enough air, not enough space and everything feels like it’s closing in on her, suffocating. 

Please, she begs, hears the TARDIS hum soothingly in her mind. Please let me out. 

She can almost feel the ship’s disapproval, her defiance. 

The Doctor moves, does something she can’t see and then there’s a hand on her arm, but it feels misplaced, feels conciliatory, and she flinches. 

She hears what sounds like a sharp intake of breath, and his hand falls away. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop doing that.”

Don’t, she thinks desperately, please don’t stop, please touch me, please hold me— 

She can’t bring herself to say the words out loud. Instead, she clears her throat, tries to make herself small in the tight space. 

“No,” she says, too hoarse. “No, it’s not—it’s just—”

She doesn’t know how to explain. How his touch unravels her. How it feels like a brand, how she craves and needs it so much, and yet, dreads it. 

Because he’s too good. Too kind, too soft, and she knows she cuts him with her hard edges. Knows she’s too violent and too cruel and too sentimental for him, especially now. 

She can’t bear to imagine what he’d think of her if he knew, all the things she’s done since Manhattan. Since she lost the only three people she’s ever truly loved. 

He wouldn’t understand. He’s lost so much, over and over and somehow remains so, so good, and she’s not like that, never has been. Fear has never made her kind, the way it does him; it makes her weak. Angry. 

Unworthy. 

“Just what?” he asks, and his voice sounds softer, somehow. Patient, in a way he’s never been, not with her. At least, not lately. 

She doesn’t know what to say, without saying everything. 

She pushes it aside, tries to keep her voice causal, keep it from cracking. 

“It’s just been a while,” she says, and hopes he doesn’t ask. She hopes he does. 

“Since Manhattan?” 

She nods, and a long silence stretches before she remembers he can’t see her. “Yes.” 

“How long?”

She shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. “Almost a year.” 

There’s a beat, and his tone is a strange mix of anger and hurt. “Then you lied to me.”

“About what?”

“You said two months.”

River frowns, trying to remember. “When did I say that?”

“At Amy’s. When I followed you, you said—”

“Spoilers,” she says, suddenly breathless, a faint hope knocking at her ribs. She hasn’t been back to her parents house, with its warmth and photographs and memories. She hadn’t wanted to see it empty, hadn’t been able to bring herself to go back, to clear it out. She knows she’ll have to, eventually—she knows he won’t do it. 

“What do you mean, spoilers? You’re a professor, you’ve done Manhattan, and then you left and I found you packing up their house—”

“Maybe you did, but I haven’t done it yet.”

“You haven’t,” he echoes. And then, “You haven’t done Arnos yet either, I assume?”

“No,” she says, her mouth dry, suddenly desperate and terrified of seeing her husband, that version of her husband, again. She’d thought that was the end, after—

“So the last time you saw me…” he trails off, and River closes her eyes, tries not to think about his words, the look of betrayal on his face. 

This is your fault. 

She shudders, exhales, waits for more of his ire. 

Instead, he touches her again, fumbling in the dark for her arm. “I’m sorry.”

River blinks. “What for?”

“Everything,” he says. “What I said. What I did. Time travel.” He huffs. “I followed you, River,” he says, and she shakes her head, almost frantic. 

“Don’t tell me—”

His hand tightens around her arm. “I followed you, and I did everything in my power to make it up to you. Or rather, I will.” He sighs. “I didn’t realize it had been so long.”

River swallows. “It’s not your fault,” she manages. 

“Yeah, it is.” She opens her mouth to protest, and he must know, because he steps closer, still holding her arm. “Don’t. Just because I will apologize doesn’t mean you have to forgive me now.”

“I always forgive you,” she murmurs. 

“Even for not loving you enough?”

The words knock the air from her lungs, and she pulls away from him, winded. She’d known, she’d known he didn’t love her, not the way she loved him, but hearing it, she can’t breathe. Her hearts trip and she remembers her father, before he knew he was her father, asking her what she meant by a far worse day and it’s this, she thinks, this moment, all her fears true and the blackness and she can’t stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks. She inhales, body trembling and she’s glad, suddenly, for the dark. If this is what had to happen, and even the TARDIS knew, she’s grateful he can’t see her face. 

“River—” he starts, uncertain, and it’s not his fault, no one’s fault but her own, and she shakes her head, her voice cracking just slightly on her reassurance, 

“You can’t help it.”

It falls flat, sounds unconvincing even to her own ears but she doesn’t blame him, doesn’t want him to think she does, but when she tries to speak, it’s all air. 

“I suppose,” he says, and she tries to breathe, to control herself, but when she exhales it’s a hitched sob, and she claps her hand over her mouth, humiliated and heartbroken and so, so lost. 

“You’re crying.”

He sounds surprised, and she doesn’t understand.

“I’m fine,” she manages, swipes at her cheeks, aware her tone is too curt, angry at herself. 

“Why?” he asks, and there’s no judgement, no reprimand, just concern, and she supposes she owes him, for whatever good it will do. 

“I knew—” she starts, stops when her voice breaks and tries again, softer. “I’ve known for a while. That you don’t feel the same. It’s just another thing to hear you say it, that’s all.”

He moves, and she can feel him closer, and she closes her eyes, wishes he wouldn’t. She wants to bury her head in his chest and cry but she can’t do that to him, won’t do it to herself, and she’s so distracted trying to keep herself together she almost misses his words, the floundering, 

“Say—? No, River. That’s not—that’s not what I meant.”

Her hearts pinch. Her Doctor, always trying to make things better. 

“It’s alright, Doctor, really. It doesn’t matter—”

“Stop it,” he snaps, and she blinks, momentarily stunned. “Stop saying that, of course it matters.” He sighs, and steps a few paces away from her, and she doesn’t know what she’ll do, now. She knows she doesn’t need him—not to travel or survive or live her life but she wants him, always has, always will, and she supposes this is her punishment, to love so fiercely the person who can never or will never love her back. 

She’d thought she’d made peace with that. Apparently she was wrong. 

Just as her tears start to well again, the Doctor reaches out, fumbling along her arm for her hands. She tries to pull away but he holds fast, stands so close, his forehead nearly pressed to hers. 

“I meant I haven’t shown you. I haven’t been there for you. I haven’t done enough.”

She inhales sharply, rehears his words, and they mean something different, so suddenly, but she doesn’t dare hope. 

“Doctor—”

His voice trembles, and she can feel his breath against her cheek. “You really think I don’t love you?”

Hope flutters in her chest and she can’t do this again, can’t be brave any longer. Her mother’s last words ring in her ears, take care of him, but she barely remembers how to take care of herself. 

She wants to lie. On instinct, wants to apologize and lie and say it was all a misunderstanding, to chase the guilt and weight from his words. That of course she knows. Of course it’s all pretend. 

But she’s so tired. Of running and fighting and lying.

In the silence, the Doctor slides his hand up her arm, and she holds her breath as his fingers slip over her jaw, and his palm, soft and tentative, cradles her cheek. 

“I don’t know anymore,” she whispers, doesn’t mean to, wishes she could take it back but instead of the guilt she expects, the groveling, the Doctor’s quiet a moment, and then, so soft, his thumb brushing over her cheek, 

“Would it help if I said it?”

She freezes. “What?”

“Would it—”

She shakes her head. It can’t be real, can’t be true. Not once has he told her, never returned her whispers in the dark. She knows he can’t, and doesn’t want to demand it of him but she’s hungered for those words for so long, so much, each time he leaves her with a kiss and nothing else she’s wished. 

“You don’t have to—”

His hand falls to her waist and he holds fast. “Would it help, River,” he repeats. “The truth, please, for once.”

He sounds sincere, and desperate, and afraid, and for the first time she wonders if she was wrong. If all of this is wrong, and she’s just been without him so long she can’t remember what it feels like, his love. How he says it without saying anything at all. 

But she’s never heard it before. 

Amy and Rory never said it, not as children, not as teens. They never said it as her parents, though they certainly seemed to love her in some kind of way. She’s never been close enough to anyone else, and even if she had been, there’s only one person she’s ever wanted those words from and here he is, at last, offering them to her in the dark. 

“Please, River,” he whispers, like it matters. 

She swallows, breathes out, and admits, so quiet, “Only if you meant it.”

It’s as good as a yes, and the Doctor’s fingers dig briefly into her waist before he drops his hands, and she tries not to panic. 

“You know,” he starts, and she can hear his clothing shift, but can’t see what he’s doing. “Gallifreyan has over a thousand words for love. There’s a word you use for brothers, for sisters, for parents and friends and lovers and strangers.”

She knows, remembers learning them all, his voice in her ear, hand over hers as he taught her how to write, those beautiful circles it took her so long to perfect. 

“Time matters as well—most languages, they only think in past, present, and future, but Gallifreyan - there’s a word for “I love you right this second.” There’s a word for “I’ll love you tomorrow.” There’s a word for “I don’t love you yet, but I will.”” 

River bites her lip, feels like she’s waiting, feels like she’s falling, but the Doctor just keeps talking, almost casual, but she can tell he’s choosing each word with care. 

“We have words for inevitable love and unrequited love and fleeting love and dancing with someone you love. There’s even a word for falling in love, that roughly translates as “the sound of wind rushing in your ears.”” 

She can hear the smile in his voice, the fondness for his native tongue. 

“Marriages on Gallifrey only last one regeneration,” he continues, “Because personalities change, it’s unfair to assume people will stay together any longer than one life. Sometimes vows are renewed, sometimes people go their separate ways.” 

Her hearts plummet again, waiting for the truth, for him to step away. Instead, his voice softens, and he takes her hand again, stroking his thumb over her skin. 

“And very rarely, people will stay together through every one of their regenerations. Those people use a different word—there’s no exact translation, but it’s close to endless, boundless, eternal, with the understanding that life isn’t fleeting at all, not for a Time Lord. When humans say forever it just means time. A little more time.” He echoes her words, and she can hear his smile. “When we say it, it means unending.”

Her chest aches and her eyes burn and she can barely breathe. “Doctor.”

“I can’t say I love you, River,” he says, and she feels herself start to slip away, and then: “It’s too small, and too ordinary, and not nearly sentimental enough.”

River inhales sharply. “Sweetie—”

He pushes something into her hand, something soft and worn and she would know it anywhere, that old bow tie. Her fingers fumble for it, follow it, and she nearly gasps when she realizes one end is wrapped around his hand, the other loose for her. 

To choose. 

Leaning forward, his lips brushing her cheek before they reach her ear, he breathes the words she recognizes, words he just told her. It’s I love you forever. I love you eternal. I love you boundlessly. Her breathing hitches and she strives to stifle the sob, but it creeps up anyway, a shuddering gasp in the quiet room. 

“That’s why I don’t say it, River. Not because I don’t feel it. Because it’s just not enough.” His hand settled on her cheek, brushing tears away with his thumb. “Do you believe me?”

She sniffles, and almost laughs. She doesn’t know what to do, what to say, how to tamp down her hearts, which feel like they’re flying away. She wants to hug him, kiss him, hold him and never let go. She restrains herself, barely, and takes a deep breath before feeling in the dark for his hands. 

“Yes,” she murmurs, wrapping the other end of the bow tie around her hand, the gesture so familiar, so precious. 

The Doctor releases a breath she hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and she reaches out with her free hand, searching for his face in the dark. She brushes his cheek, and he instantly tilts against her, his other hand coming up to cover hers. 

“Good,” he says, his voice scratchy. “Good.” 

River smiles, and for the first time in so long, it’s real. 

“I love you,” she whispers, in his language, the same words repeated back and the Doctor shivers, and steps closer, crowding her, still clutching her hand. His forehead drops against hers and he tangles his free hand in her hair.

“River.”

“Shut up,” she whispers, and he seems to take it as permission, seems to open some floodgates she hadn’t been aware existed. He surges forward, pushing her back against a shelf and his mouth covers hers and she keeps her hand on his cheek, parts her lips and kisses him back. He makes a sound, gruff and somehow sweet, a moan that turns possessive when she tries to pull back. He grips her tighter, presses himself against her and he’s warm and gentle and all-consuming, his mouth moving over hers and his fingers against her neck. 

She startles when the lights come on, and the door clicks, but the Doctor doesn’t seem to notice, breathing heavily, his fingers brushing the remains of her tears from her cheeks. 

“Staying?” he asks, and she can hear the insecurity, sees it in his face still when she leans back, just far enough. 

Squeezing his hand, she smiles. “Yes,” she murmurs, the single word swallowed in his kiss. 

[oh-theatre]

You Can't Force A Fairytale (Chapter 4)

Chapter title: Pain Cuts Deep

A/n:  HI HELLO!! This sucks lol! no seriously im so sorry that this is so bad!! although some stuff was revealed!! also also..whats up with patton? and remus? And all of them! Aaa !! Anyway i hope you enjoy even though its trash and make sure to leave me comments!

Also yes Im keeping Dolion because then I can have... janus ;)

also if this is confusing i understand, so please tell me and ill try and clear it out!

words: 3516

summary: The group is scattered and needs to make a plan soon.

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, eventual demus, eventual remile (These might change but for now im love them)

warnings: bow and arrow, violence, injuries, magic, swearing, bruises, scars, blood, fighting, stabbing, pain

Ao3 Link  

“Are you alright Patton?” Logan whispers, guiding the horses into a hidden cove of the forest, followed by the rest of the group. The prince swallows, the images couldn't stop running through his mind, staining the memories permanently in his mind. He doesn't understand why it set a quick blaze and a blush to rise in his face. Logan takes his hand, stopping them, his glazed eyes stare curiously.

“Im alright” Patton promises, hopefully the shadows hide away his blush. Logan looks doubtful but nods anyways, the others in tow. Prince Roman helps an unsteady Virgil practically tumble off the horse, a quick shove to a giggling Roman. Prince Remus follows suit with Dolion, though he is much more graceful and regal stepping off the horse. “Follow Logan into the cove, through the hanging leaves.” Patton guides, they follow suit.

“Good luck” Logan gives Patton's hand a gentle squeeze. The prince nods, giving Nork a sweet pat before Logan leads them away. Once the clearing is empty, he takes to the amulet around his neck, his hand enveloping the magical touch.

“As we search for cover in this mossy forest cove, let no one uncover or discover what's hidden in the mangrove” He chants, a sweet spur of magic dances around him, green flecks as they follow his spell. They take a moment to give Patton an entrance, once hes safely inside the dank dwelling they shut the group away from the outside world, protected from magic and tyrants above. He whispers a quick spell watching his hands engulf in safe flames, the light allows him to regroup with the others.

“Is it done?” Logan cautions, Patton nods feeling exhaustion hit him.

The sight was something. The wet stone was not faint of aroma, the moss that encircled the area was refreshing. The horses seemed to enjoy the small yet spacious patches of grass that led out the other side into a hidden pool of water. Remus, regal as always, lied flat on his back snoring away already. The gray stone may present itself as hard yet the prince seemed so cozy. Patton almost wanted to join him.

Logan sat ever so sweet under a shaded area, in the intersection of the cove leading out into the pond. He read his book, a routine while he ran his hands through a sleepy Nork’s mane. The horse sat next to him, almost as if he had forgotten what animal he was and was content to act as a smaller one. Thank god the space let him.

Dolion and Virgil seemed inseparable, they both sat with their feet splashing away in the water, their muddy boots by their side. The pair spoke in hushed whispers, hesitation to trust the characters around them, finding solace in the similarity of their situations. Patton did find his heart tug at him as he watched however, their soft delight at each magical essence this strange world presented was something that never got old and something you just couldn't deny.

Finally Roman, Patton had to admit, the sight was hard to watch. The prince stood against the rock in the corner with a bland look to his face. He watched the prince skip stones across the pond, bored, his crown that typically rested perfectly upon his head now flopped a bit with no sight in mind to fix it. Romans steed, Dracaena, neighed in concern but had no qualms about returning to her important task of chomping away at the grass around her.

“I wonder if she would be more comfortable in her other form?” Patton inquires, catching Romans ear instantly.

“I think the same, I sense she's eager to be on alert in case of danger though” He expresses. Patton nods understanding, though he did miss the vicious, mischievous creature, he understands. “I don't believe we will be staying for long, correct?” Romans body shakes with impatience. His clear want to ride through the open fields with a hunger for victory was clear. Patton could feel the fiery passion that boiled his blood, not that he needed his powers for that. The amulet strung on Romans neck was alight with the amber blaze.

“I'm not sure Ro” He glanced towards the foreigners, their anxieties at bay for now. “There is alot to process and we mustn't put innocents in danger over our own goals” Patton explains, Roman knows he speaks only truths but still his anger was unkempt. “For now though, we are safe and this gives us ample time to come up with a plan...a much needed one” He reminds stringing his arm through Romans. This releases a chuckle from the prince. “Come, for it was not I who led the battle of Sarcane to victory, but you our brave warrior at the front line”

“Well I had assistance” He smiles at the newly appeared dragon that rested upon his shoulder, a quick breath of fire in excitement.

“But of course, much credit to Dracaena” Patton gives the creature a sweet pet, adoring the soft murmur of affection. “Now come before Logan and Remus tear eachother apart”

~~~

“My opinion?” Virgil gasps with a vile sarcasm. “I think you're all insane and i'd like to wake up from this nightmare!” He shouts, ending with a bite and smirk. Should Roman find that defense so pulsing for his heart?

“I do indeed second that” Dolion whispers with a yawn, the cross-legged boy sits sleepily next to Remus. He holds in another sign of his tiredness before settling very lightly onto the prince's shoulder. He hadnt meant to but he simply couldn't keep his focus much longer, and the prince was there. Remus froze of course, terrified to move, he didn't want to wake the boy. And he surely didn't want to call attention to his reddened face.

“Maybe it would be wise for us to rest for the evening,” Patton suggests. Logan huffs shutting his book, the maps and scribbles collected quickly by him. He shakes his head, muttering to himself walking to a secluded corner. “Lo” Patton sighs, he eyes the others asking them to set up the proper conventions for the night before following his quiet friend.

“We dont have time to rest!” He utters, throwing his items away from him, Patton quickly waves his fingers making sure they dont sink into the water. “Thank you” Logan stubbornly acknowledges, watching the prince delticaltyl stack his things next to him. “We must prepare Patton”

“Lo we dont even know what we’re up against” Patton sits beside him, the stars shine through the only opening, reflecting delicately upon the water. “Everything escalated much too quickly” He takes his friends hand, it always eased them both.

“You and I both know that he will be coming soon” Logan reminds, the image of the army marching towards them, led by the figure of whom Logan speaks flashes familiar in Patton's mind.

“Yes but we mustn't allow it to consume our minds as of now” Patton assures “You need rest as much as everyone else, for now we are safe” They hear wild giggles from behind them, turning to see the four enjoying their time. Remus dances kookily around the cover, Roman finishing his meal with delight as he watches Dolion and Virgil quite entertained. “Even in darkness, a light can shine through to guide you” Patton whispers, Logan nods from behind him, he takes the words to heart. “Ill take first night!” Patton announces, receiving no arguments from the group. He goes to stand but feels a tug at his hand.

“Promise me i'll see you in the morning” Logan begs, the soft features catching his eyes. “Come back to me?” He worries, the forest though magical and enchanted was not short of danger. A gentle Patton places his gloved hands on Logan's cheek.

“Always and forever” He swears, Logan nods, the exhaustion now dawning him. “Get some rest Logan, your mind has been at work for much too long”

“Agreed” He yawns, he rolls out his makeshift cloth, a comfy pillow and takes what little warmth he has. Quickly Patton watches him follow into his dreams. The shivering did hurt him just a tad, so when he knew no eyes were watching him, a quick spell he cast.

“On this cold and fateful night, give him warmth, give him light” Patton watches the amber flecks dance before shrouding Logan. He smiles to himself before taking his bow and horse and makes his way to the front.

~~~

“Patton!” He would be lying if he said he hadn't jumped, for the voice, though cheery came at the blackest of moments.  Emile and his graciousness fluttered to where the Prince lay sleepily on his horse, trying his hardest to keep awake. Though what protection could he grant with his bow on the floor and his arrows scattered. He was delighted to see the godfather however.

“Emile, your sorcery” He greets, allowing the fairy to fix him up, feeling the boost of energy boil through him. “How did it go?” Patton questions, adjusting his position.

“I was able to clear my own name of crime and reinstate my position but the royal guard is on the hunt just as suspected” He explains. “They're sending out the cavalry”

“Goodness not Remy!” Patton whispers furiously. Emile nods solemnly. “The King is truly going all out...but why?” Patton wonders “What does he know about these foreigners that we mustn't, and what does my needing to get a suitor hold over the kingdom?” His thoughts pour out of him. Emile shrugs as he fiddles with the flowers around him, watching the echinopsis dance around him. He heals the ones that had not been tended with pleasure before summoning a treat for Nork. “We can't stay here then, when morning befalls us we must travel once more” He sighs

“I will do my best to keep you updated, I must go now my dear prince, but I shall visit soon again” Emile promises, an understanding nod from Patton and the godfather disappears in a dazzling shower of light.

Luckily the night went on without any incidents, Patton scoured the area, took Nork for a calming venture before returning to the hideout as the sun came to fruition. He remained outside, reading through one of his many books he had tucked away, Nork allowed him to sit easy while he grazed the small land.

“Good morning” He heard from behind him. Logan emerged from the dangling leaves, a yawn escaping him. “What, might I inquire, are you perusing?” Logan questions, Patton shows him the novel. “Ah very well, I do adore flowers”

“As do I” Patton agrees, he shuts the book marking his page, stuffing it carefully into his sack. Logan observes the area, his eyes admiring every small inkling and detail that surrounded him. Patton extends his hand, a sweet smile. “Care for a morning ride?” He asks, Logans excitement may have begun with his curiosity for the world but it only grew with Patton's proposal. He takes his hand as he had done many times before and allows Patton to hoist him behind him. The simple buzz Patton experiences as he felt Logans respectful hands wrap their way around his waist and his head rest easy on Patton was something he would simply never ever fail to love.

Scratch that… as Logan laughs timidly while they rush through the saplings of the forest, the love that filled his eyes and the mental notes he saw the prince take, the giggle that escaped as water splashed his face

That was something he would never fail to love

Logan..

Logan was something he would never fail to love

~~~

“I swear to god princey if you don't shut up i'm going to tape your mouth shut” Virgil moans, his head falling into his hands. Roman feels taken aback, the shock of such disrespect and yet the almost...excitement from the nickname was something else.

“For such disrespect the kingdom could have your tongue” He retorts, his face hot with anger but almost wanting to engage.

“And yet here you stand with your tongue” Virgil teases, he hears a faint smoky laugh from Dracaena, she slithers away from a silent Roman nestling into his lap. At first hes frightened, but the soft purring spreads a warmth over him. Roman...well despite feeling mocked...enjoyed the gentle view. He takes a place next to Virgil, watching the young teen flip curiously through some of Logan's journals while keeping a steady pet on the dragon.

“What do you think you're doing!” Speaking of the prince, Logan rushes into the room, fuming with shy anger. “Those are my journals! My property!” A scrambled Patton follows him, a look of anticipation for though rare, Logans outbursts were...unpleasant. He quickly snatches them away from Virgil, a glare towards the black haired boy. “Only I and a select few…” He glances towards Patton, did his defenses fall? “Have access! So stop touching others things!” He demands

“And so with Logans anger boiling, and Virgils own fury at storm the two are at odds, will they be able to ban together for a new threat approaching fast?” Remus spouts, Roman takes his side instantly knowing the pain that would come. “I hate it, I hate it” Remus sputters, the sweat fast approaching. Dolion, who while he enjoyed the princes antics found nothing charming as of yet, was intrigued by the sad honesty of the pain. “With that! The group should begin on their way” He barely manages, tears forming as Roman aides him.

“What does-” But Virgil is quickly cut off by the distant sounds of shouts, determination as each beautiful thing in the forest is stomped by power and raging fury. “Oh”

“Nork!” Patton calls, Logan stuffs his books away before allowing Patton to assist him on the horse. “Come now, we haven't much time” He signals to the others. Roman whispers a quick check to his brother, Remus nods. Though pained, he's ready to flee on his own steed. Unsure, Roman calls to Dracaena. She flies away from Virgil before a mist of shrouded light appears and a midnight horse takes her place.

“Coming?” Roman questions, extending his hand to Virgil. The teen rolls his eyes but joins the prince. “Hold on” He warns, and though his own blush denies him, Virgil grips tight to Roman. He watches as Dolion helps Remus to his own horse.

“Estrella” He whispers sweetly, the horse neighs with affection. This fragile moment tugged at Dolion, he missed his own home. New Orleans seemed like such a distant place, Luna, his cat could still be heard purring. “Up up and away” He jokes, Dolion takes the reins, thanking his mother for the horse riding lessons. He doesn't even mind when Remus collapses on his back, the warmth of the prince was...nice.

“On my signal” Patton heeds, and so one by one they gallop through the woods. The horses follow one another, protecting each other from danger and shielding themselves from the public eye. They reach an opening after what seemed like hours, the rope burning on Dolions hands was almost too much to bear. Remus had healed so they switch positions. It seems the sun was setting which set off a yawn in Virgil. He grew more comfortable on Roman, practically hugging him. Not that the prince minded, he enjoyed their journey. And his mind couldn't stop thinking about ...one particular-

“-Moment!” Virgil huffs “Just give me one moment” He slides off Dracaena, clutching his stomach. The group decides to take a rest near the waterfall, Logan leans against a tree and begins reading. Roman makes sure Dracaena is secured before following Virgil to where he sits by the lake.

“Are you alright?” He questions, sitting next to him.

“I feel...sick” He groans, Roman finds his little puffed features adorable. “It just keeps...making noise” He points to his stomach. Roman fiddles with the glass before pulling something from his satchel.

“You haven't eaten have you?” He shakes a small container holding delectable treats. Virgil scrunches his face in realization. “Here” he opens it, pulling out what seems to be a biscuit. Through his own habit he goes to feed Virgil. Virgil takes the first one, before both take a second to come to reality. “Apologies” He rubs the nape of his neck, Virgil laughs watching crumbs fly out. “Habit I guess”

“Fwo wat?” Virgil swallows his food, taking a handkerchief and wiping away the crumbs that had escaped

“Well when I had to meet suitors I had to charm them.” He explains, I suppose the mindless princesses my father found for me enjoyed being treated like a baby” Virgil snorts, Roman would love to hear that sound more.  “ Oh but thats just a few of them! Ive met so many amazing ladies of royalty, each so smart and strong” he muses

“And yet here you are...alone” Virgil notes, he wasn't going to lie. Roman was the spitting image of every disney prince. He should have been scooped up by now.

“Heh...I suppose the shoe...just hasn't fit yet” He gulps, the truth of his uncertainty was something he had only ever confessed to Patton. He wasn't even sure! And yet even with his doubts...No Roman. Once all of this has calmed, you will return home, a perfect princess will be ready for you and you may rule.

Better that,  than living the torute he watched his brother endure. He takes a peek back at Remus, he sits giggling away with Dolion, the look he gives the foreigner was one he had only seen once before. He did miss Janus, he was a wonderful fencing coach, and always challenged the twins. But no one missed him more than Remus.

Ugh! Roman enough! This is ridiculous. You're being ridiculous. You don't know anything, you've never tried anything.

Ok so maybe he didn't enjoy the entire scene, but...he takes a quick peek at the curious raven haired boy, he enjoyed Virgil.

No Roman...

For the crown

For the kingdom.

He looks to Patton. Follow his example, he tells himself. The prince didn't just have a kingdom on his shoulders, he had the entire land of which they rode across. He had endured more suffering than anyone.

But he laughed away the idea of a suitor, he walked away from it

Roman purses his lips...he did, didn't he?

So why can't you

~~~

“Are you alright?” Logan whispers from his position. Patton coughs coming back from whatever daydream he was engaged in. He tightens his hold on the reins, nodding away his suspicion.

“Yes of course, are you?” He wonders. Logan doubts his answer but shrugs it away.

“I am, I am more than ready to find a resting spot. I simply must show you these new spells, and oh the mus…” He rambles on, Patton listens, he does but suddenly the world goes silent. He looks to Nork but finds scared darkness. He panics trying to find anything familiar until he hears a voice...his own.

Hes watching himself, he watches the scene that had been haunting his mind for days unfold once more.

“No stop” He tries to call out, but the fearful hoarse cry was nothing. His eyes follow as Future Patton races through the castle, fighting his way. He knows what's coming, he doesn't want to see it. Not again, not anymore… “Stop!” he cries, nothing changes, his future self continues on his path. Tears swell in his eyes as he tries to avoid seeing the tender moment but he can't peel away. He gasps in pain relief, preparing to return to his body.

“What a sad sight” He peeks through his tightly closed eyes. What's this? He doesn't remember this. The King had not spoken before. But now he spoke and moved. “He was brave, tougher than I thought” The King expresses, Patton watches himself keep a protective hold on the frozen Logan. “But he just wasn't strong enough”

Logan's figure collapses, Patton wastes no time kneeling beside him. Patton watches himself and Logan share a hush conversation, but his eyes quickly glance towards the towering figure. The King moves silently as he takes his sword. Fear quickly engulfed Patton. The prince wanted to cry out, scream, do anything, but all he could do was watch.

And listen to the ear piercing scream as the sword slashed its way into Logan. It became too much, The Kings dastardly laugh, Pattons desperate sobs, and the fades of Logans demise. Too much ...too much. Patton clutched his head before the world went black and he felt himself hit a grassy meadow. His eyes fluttered only to catch Logan jump off of Nork and rush to his side. He heard mumblings and worries but soon he lost all senses and fell into a deep sleep.

But not a pleasant one.

Not with the images flashing their way through his head.

He had to change it, he had to.

[artificialqueens]

A Long Night (Jan x Jackie) - A

A/N: Hello! Back again with another Jan x Jackie sickfic because apparently that’s the only thing I know how to write! This one is based on Jan getting food poisoning during press week (canon-compliant in premise, but obviously took some creative liberties lol). Please let me know whatcha think, and and also if you have any other sickfic requests. I wanna write a Crygi fic and need some inspo!

TW: Illness / vomiting.

A strange sound woke Jackie from her sleep. She groaned, looking over at the clock. 11:07 PM- she had only been asleep for an hour. Jackie wasn’t normally one to go to bed early, but the first day of press week had been exhausting and she wanted to make sure she was well rested for the next day. She listened for a moment to see if she could hear the sound again, but the room was silent. Shrugging, she rolled over, pulling the covers up to her chin as she tried to fall back asleep. The noise came again a few minutes later, just as she was drifting off to sleep. It took a moment for her to realize what she was hearing was the faint but recognizable sound of someone vomiting in the room next to hers- Jan’s. Jackie sat up in bed, still half asleep, and flicked the light on. She fumbled to find her phone on the bedside table and shot her fellow queen a text.

“You okay?”

A few minutes went by with no response. She texted again.

“Do you want me to come over?”

Jan didn’t text back, but a series of painful sounding coughs and gags coming from the other side of the shared wall was all the response Jackie needed.

“Fuck it,” she thought to herself, “she’s sick, she needs someone there to take care of her.”

She put on a robe and slippers and grabbed her glasses before heading next door. She knocked softly on the door.

“Jan? It’s Jackie, open up.”

A few moments passed before the door creaked open, revealing a very pale and very unsteady looking Jan standing in the doorway.

“Jac-“ was all she managed to get out before she was cut off by a gag.

She spun around and ran back into the bathroom. Jackie caught the door before it closed and followed her into the hotel room, wrinkling her nose slightly at the acrid smell that hung in the air. She waited outside the bathroom door, not wanting to embarrass her friend. After a few minutes, she heard a flush and knocked on the door.

“Jan, sweetie? Can I come in?”

A weak “yeah" came from inside the bathroom. Jackie opened the door, furrowing her brow at the sight before her. Jan was sitting on the floor in front of the toilet looking absolutely exhausted. She was white as a sheet, save her blotchy red cheeks, and was shaking like a leaf.

“Oh Jan,” Jackie cooed, crouching down to brush the hair off her sweat slicked forehead. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” the blonde girl whimpered, both her arms tightly clutched over her cramping stomach, “I don’t feel good.”

Jackie frowned. “I can see that. How long have you been feeling sick?”

“I’ve been feeling kinda off since after dinner, but I just chalked it up to the adrenaline from today finally wearing off, you know?”

Jackie nodded, rubbing a comforting hand on Jan’s shoulder as she stopped to cough harshly into her arm. She paused for a moment before continuing.

“And it just kept getting worse and worse until a like an hour ago. I started throwing up and once I started, I couldn’t stop. I feel better for a little bit afterwards but then it just gets bad again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Jack. It hurts so bad…” She trailed off, sounding like she was on the verge of tears.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m here, you’re okay.” Jackie soothed her. “It sounds like you might have food poisoning. Do you think you could’ve eaten something bad?”

“Ugh, maybe. I had a tuna sandwich from craft service, maybe that was it?”

Jackie made a face. She never trusted fish at hotels, and it seemed for a good reason. Just as she was about to make this sentiment known, she saw Jan straighten up abruptly, her face paling. Knowing what was about to happen, Jackie quickly and carefully helped guide h forward, managing to position her over the toilet right as another wave of vomit came up. Jackie rubbed her back as she was sick, whispering words of encouragement until she was finally done. Jan spat into the bowl before flushing and leaned back against the wall with a groan.

“I’m so sorry sweetie… how are you feeling now?” Jackie asked, leaning forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Jan’s ear.

“A little better, I think. Still hurts though.”

“Do you want to try and drink some water?”

Jan nodded her head tentatively. Her stomach was still churning and she wasn’t completely sure she was done being sick, but she knew she was likely dehydrated and needed to get some fluids back in her system.

Jackie returned moments later with a plastic cup. “Small sips, okay?”

Jan took a few sips, grateful to be able to rid her mouth of the awful taste, but it wasn’t long before she started to feel it creep back up. She leaned over the toilet in preparation, letting out a few empty burps before an abrupt gag brought up the water she had just drank, followed immediately by another wave of acidic vomit.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry” Jackie apologized, rubbing circles on her back in an attempt to soothe her. “That was a bad idea, no more for now.”

Jan hummed in agreement, resting her head on Jackie’s shoulder. Jackie could feel the heat radiating off the young queen’s body as she wrapped a protective arm around her. It pained her to see Jan so sick. She desperately wished she could do more to ease her suffering, but she knew that the sickness had to run it’s course. For now, she would just do what she could to make her feel comfortable and safe until it passed.

“Do you wanna try to go back to bed or do you think you’re gonna be sick more?” Jackie asked after a while, noticing that Jan seemed to be falling asleep on her.

“I- I think I’m okay.” Jan said hesitantly, seeming unsure. “For now, at least.”

“Okay baby, let’s get you to the bed. Scoot forward a bit and I’ll help you up.”

Jan normally would have protested, insisting she was fine to walk on her own, but in her current state she was grateful for the offer. Jan moved forward, allowing room for Jackie to get behind her and pick her up under the arms. She was overcome with a wave of dizziness as she stood up, and felt herself sway dangerously. Jackie grabbed her shoulders, steadying her before she could fall. Jan leaned heavily on her friend’s shoulder, allowing her to carry most of her weight as they slowly made their way to the bed.

Jan fell asleep almost immediately upon laying down, clearly exhausted from having been violently ill. Jackie, on the other hand, stayed awake. She lay next to Jan, stroking the sick girl’s hair absentmindedly. She knew she should be in her own room, resting up for another full day of interviews, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave Jan like this. Jackie knew how awful it felt to be alone when you were sick, and she never wanted anyone to have to feel that way. Especially not Jan…

Jackie was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a strangled gag coming from beside her. She shot out of bed, running to the bathroom to grab the trash can. She managed to thrust it under Jan’s chin just in time for her to throw up a mouthful of bile.

“This fucking sucks,” Jan panted between coughs.

“I know, baby. Just get let out, I’ve got you.” Jackie held her steady as she continued to be sick. After a few minutes, the gags turned unproductive and she was left dry heaving painfully.

“Shh, it’s okay, I think you’re empty.” Jackie reassured her. “Take some deep breaths, I’ll be right back.” She went to clean the trash can and when she came back she found Jan still sitting up, arms wrapped tightly around her midsection and tears glistening in her eyes.

“What’s wrong baby, why are you crying?” Jackie asked, hurrying over to comfort her.

“I’m sorry Jacks, this is so embarrassing… You should be in your own room sleeping but instead you’re stuck here taking care of my disgusting ass. I’m a fully grown woman and I can’t even take care of myself. I am so weak and so-”

Jackie cut her off, “Hey hey hey, listen to me. It’s not your fault you’re sick, okay? It happens to everyone. It doesn’t make you weak and it certainly doesn’t make you disgusting,“ she paused for a moment to wipe the tears from Jan’s cheeks before continuing, "Baby, you could never be gross to me, okay? I promise”

Soothed by the older queen’s gentle words, Jan sighed, resting her head back onto Jackie’s chest. She wanted to tell her how much it meant to her that she stayed. She wanted to tell her that she never wanted to her leave. She wanted to tell her that she loved her, but all she managed to say was thank you.

The night was long. Jan was able to get a little bit of sleep between episodes, but Jackie wasn’t so lucky. It seemed as soon as she was able to get everything cleaned up and settle back down, Jan was awake again. It was around 4am when the vomiting finally stopped, and both girls were left completely drained- Jan from being sick and Jackie from being awake most of the night. Although Jan’s stomach seemed to have finally calmed down, Jackie knew she shouldn’t leave her alone. She also knew that their wake up call was at 6, and she needed to at least try to get a few hours of sleep so she wouldn’t be a complete zombie during their interviews. Not wanting to disturb Jan, who seemed to finally be getting some restful sleep, Jackie stepped into the hallway to call Gigi. Gigi had a habit of waking up unreasonably early so Jackie knew that, out of all the girls, she was the most likely to be awake.

After a few rings, a vaguely sleepy “Hello?” came from the other end of the line.

“Hey, Gig. Did I wake you?”

“No, you’re fine! I’ve been up for like half an hour. What’s up?”

“Jan’s sick, I’ve been up with her all night. She finally settled down a little while ago and I was hoping you could come stay with her so I could try and get some sleep. She’s stopped throwing up so you shouldn’t need to clean up or anything, but I just don’t feel good leaving her alone after all that, you know?”

Gigi wrinkled her nose. She hated dealing with sick people, but Jan and Jackie were two of her best friends and she’d do anything for them. “Yeah, gimme 5, I’ll be right over.”

Jackie went back over to sit on the bed while she waited for Gigi. She looked at Jan sleeping peacefully next to her and sighed. If there was anybody she’d pull an all nighter for, it was Jan. The pair had grown close on the season and even closer after it had wrapped. Jan was such a ray of sunshine, always full of energy and putting a smile on everyone’s face. Seeing her so vulnerable made Jackie’s heart ache.

After a few minutes, Jackie heard a knock on the door. Whispering her thanks to Gigi, Jackie headed back to her own room for some much needed sleep.

~~~~

Jan woke up to the sound of her alarm at 6AM. She opened her eyes slowly, but quickly shut them again when a wave of nausea ran through her. She waited for it to pass, knowing she had nothing left in her body to throw up. When she felt better, she sat up in bed, squinting her eyes at the bright light shining through the window. Much to her surprise, she saw a familiar figure sitting in the chair at the foot of her bed.

“Gigi?” She asked, sounding puzzled “What are you doing here?”

Gigi looked up from her phone. “Well good morning, camper! Jackie asked me to come keep an eye on you so she could get some sleep. How are you feeling?”

Jan immediately felt a wave of guilt wash over her. Shit, Jackie! She had kept her up all night! She must be exhausted and was probably mad at her and-

“Jan? You okay?”

Jan looked up at Gigi, who looked equal parts confused and concerned, and realized she hadn’t answered the girl’s question.

“What? Oh. I’m fine. Just… thinking.” She pulled herself out of bed and tried to stand, but immediately regretted it as a surge of dizziness came over her. She sat back down on the edge of the bed, pressing her hands over her eyes. “Okay maybe not fine, but better than last night.”

Before Gigi could respond, there was a knock at the door. The tall girl went to answer it and Jackie walked in, still in her pajamas. She thanked Gigi who called out a quick, “Feel better!” to Jan before leaving the room.

“How are you feeling, doll?” Jackie asked through a yawn as she went to join Jan on the edge of the bed.

“Like flaming garbage, but at least I don’t feel like I’m about to puke my guts out every 15 minutes anymore,” Jan laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry for keeping you up, by the way. You didn’t need to stay, I was fine.”

Jackie scoffed. “First of all, you were absolutely not fine. You threw up like a million times and I’m pretty sure you were running a fever! But regardless,” she continued, her voice softening, “I wanted to stay.”

Jan smiled gratefully, pulling the older queen into tight hug. “Thank you, Jackie. Really. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you.”

“Any time, baby. Any time.“

[petri808]

Chapter 7 of 8

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 bonus

@inukag-week​  ~~~ Home prompt

Inuyasha keeps Kagome close as they walk through the castle on their way to the bed chamber where the queen, Izayoi Taisho was being treated.  He could feel the nervous energy coming off of Kagome in waves, and he couldn’t blame her.  This wasn’t exactly a vacation.  As they walk into the room, Toga tries to tell them Kagome wasn’t allowed to enter.  Inuyasha quickly stands up to him.  “Again, I do not wish to fight you, but Kagome is also a healer and may be able to help, so don’t you dare tell me she can’t come in.”

He pushes past his father, pulling Kagome along with him, whispering to her to try and keep her calm.  They reach Izayoi’s bedside and the sight they are greeted with brings Inuyasha to his knees.  To see his mother looking so pale and fragile broke his heart.  He takes his mother’s hand, tears welling up in his eyes.  “Mom?”

“Inu?” the woman opens her eyes slowly.  “You’re home?”

“Yes, mother I came as soon as I heard.”

The woman squeezes his hand weakly, “I’m so glad to see you my darling boy.”

At that point, Inuyasha prompts Kagome to come closer.  “Mom, I want to introduce you to my girl.”

“H-hello Queen Taisho,” Kagome bows.  

“Girl?  My son is in love?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “finally, right?”

She smiles, but her eyes are closing again.  “I just want you to be happy Inuyasha…”

“Mom?  Mom?!”  But the woman was slipping fast.  Inuyasha jumps to his feet in a panic.  He throws himself onto his mother’s body, shaking her, “mom wake up!”

“Inu, stop.”

Despite knowing it was Kagome’s soft voice behind him, Inuyasha turns ready to snap at her for telling him to back off.  But the moment he sees her, his eyes flare wide.  The king as well as other attendants who had rushed to the bed also stop dead in their tracks.  “K-Kagome?”  In shock, he moves off and away.  Normal human’s may not sense it, but he could, and so could any other yokai in the room.  

Kagome’s face was serene yet with a hint of sadness, and he could see her body giving off a strong aura that bathed her in a hazy yellow light, strongly condensed over her hands.  She walks up to the bed, and places her hands over the Queen, channeling that energy over the body.  With her eyes closed, she searches for the problem starting at the top of the woman’s head and moving down.  

When she reaches the abdomen, Kagome senses something amiss with her reproductive system.  She closes her eyes and focuses all of her energy on the spot.  It was a growth sucking the life out of the Queen.  A sad affliction that affected women that no medicines could cure on their own.  And it was massive, infecting the woman’s entire womb.  Kagome pushes herself harder, with telltale signs, her eyes flinching, grimaced, and her jaw locked tight in concentration.  She had no idea how she was doing any of this but trusted in the wave of reiki that guide her movements.

After several tense minutes of dead silence, the glow in Kagome’s hands slowly taper away and she crumples, half on half the bedside.  

“Kagome?!” Inuyasha rushes to her side.  He drops onto a sitting position on the floor, with the woman cradled in his arms.  “Kagome!” His hands shake her face, “Kagome?!” She was breathing okay, but her skin was paler than usual.

Another healer also rushes up, placing a hand on Kagome’s forehead and listening to her heart.  “I believe she’s passed out from exhaustion.  I-I’ve never seen anything like it before!” The man was clearly shaken by what he’d just witnessed.  

He then moves to the queen and after a short examination finds that the woman was also just asleep.  But it was strange, the woman’s jaundiced skin was returning to normal, her breathing and heart rhythms strong, and she just looked better compared to what she had been just moments ago.  

In the middle of the checkup, Queen Izayoi opens her eyes to find her bed surrounded by the royal healers and her husband.  She turns her head and sees Inuyasha on the floor with his girlfriend in his arms, clearly upset.  “What… What happened?”  She tries to sit up.

“Milady Izayoi, do not sit up,” the healer tries to keep her still.

But she refuses, “I’m fine,” she swats the man’s hands away.  Her son was upset and clearly something major had just occurred.  A mother’s instincts to protect were stronger than any illness…  Though…  As she gets to a full upright position, Izayoi realizes in confusion, “the pain is gone.”  She again looks to her son who was now looking back, “Inuyasha, what is going on?”

“She, Kagome, I-I didn’t know she could do what we witnessed, but I think,” he looks to his unconscious girl, “I think she healed you.”

“Oh, no, but is she okay?”

That’s when Toga steps in.  Even he wasn’t sure what was happening, but what he did know is this young woman may have just saved his wife’s life.  “It appears she fainted from exhaustion dear,” he motions to the guards to come forward, “help Inuyasha back to his room and get them water, this woman needs to rest.” He looks at his wife, “as do you Izy, we still don’t know exactly what is going on.”

Inuyasha rises to his feet with Kagome cradled tightly in his arms.  He nods to his parents and follows the guards back to his room, instructing them along the way to bring water, a basin, and rags.  As he lays her in his bed, he takes note of anything that seems different about her, but as far as he could tell, she really was just asleep.  “Thank you,” he whispers in her ear and closes his eyes.  This whole ordeal was a tailspin, but he was just happy to know the two women in his life should be okay.

Kagome opens her eyes and feels as if she’d been asleep for ages.  Her body was a bit stiff but otherwise well.  She turns her head to see Inuyasha curled on his side with his arm draped around her waist.  He looked so peaceful, beautiful, even as he slept, but she chuckles as his ears twitch at the slightest of her movements, always ever watchful.  His eyes pop open, gold meeting chocolate.  “Good Morning,” Kagome smiles.

“Oh, thank the gods!” He swiftly pulls her all the way against his body and buries his head against her chest.  “You’re finally awake!”

“Are you okay?” She pulls his head up so she can look into his eyes.  “Why?  How long was I asleep for?”

“Two days.”

Kagome blinks in surprise and sits up in a hurry.  “Two days?!”

“I don’t know how you did what you did, but the royal healers have deemed my mother healthy again.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how I did what I did,” she laughs, “my body just reacted when I saw how upset you were.”

He pulls her into a kiss, “well I thank you for saving my mother.  You must be starving.  Shall we get some breakfast?”

“Oh, my yes, please!”

Dressed for the day in clothes furnished for her, Kagome and Inuyasha walk hand in hand with him leading towards the pantry area.  The cooks happily feed the couple, expressing their gratitude to her for what she had done.  She wasn’t used to so much attention, but merely thanked them for their kind words.  Even the clothes Inuyasha insisted she wear were so fancy compared to what she was used to.  She felt strange, appreciated and cared about, but just very much out of her element.

“Come on, I think we should check in on my mom, she insisted on seeing you once you woke up.”

“O-Okay.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” he kisses the back of her hand, “you’ll do fine, just be yourself.”

They find both of his parents in a study room.  Toga Inutaisho was looking over some paperwork, while his wife was sitting on a couch reading a book.  As soon as the couple walks into the room.  Izayoi puts down her book and rushes over, sweeping the young woman into a hug.

“My dear, I am so happy to see you awake!” she pulls away cradling Kagome’s face in her hands, turning it from left to right and giving her a once over.  “You look so well!  I was worried that whatever you did for me would affect you somehow.”

“You’re too kind,” Kagome bows to the queen, “and thank you, I feel completely fine,” she smiles.  “I’m just glad I was able to help you.”

“Come, come, sit,” she ushers the girl to the couch along with Inuyasha.  At this point, Toga joins them, sitting with his wife on an adjacent couch.  “Inuyasha has filled us in on everything, how you met until now.”  Izayoi smiles, “And we both agree,” her husband taking her hand and squeezing in approval, “that despite being a commoner, we welcome you Kagome.  We just want our son to be happy.”

“However,” Toga steps into the conversation, “despite his desire to do as he pleases, there are responsibilities he has here as a prince…”

Kagome braces herself for bad news.  They couldn’t be together, she would have to leave, or worse…

“… and while we wish him to stay, we’ve decided that if he chooses to leave again, we won’t stop him.”

Really?!  Kagome breathes a sigh of relief.  

“Oh, but I wish you would both stay,” Izayoi jumps back in excitedly.  “I do miss my son, but I would be even happier to have a potential… daughter-in-law around?”

“Mom!” Inuyasha screams, “Way to blow my plans!”

“Wait, what?!” Kagome who’d been petrified was now in total shock at this turn of events. She turns to Inuyasha, “what are you guys talking about?!”

Inuyasha scratches the back of his neck as his cheeks flush pink with the adrenaline of emotions flooding his brain, “w-well, the whole scare thing made me realize that you would be the only woman I would ever love and I better do something about it before, you, I don’t know, get tired of me and leave or something.  And after talking with my parents and getting their approval, I would propose, but now my mom went and spoiled the surprise,” his ears deflate.  “I had it all planned out too.”

The room went silent with all eyes locked on Kagome.  She looked shocked, confused, emotionless and after several seconds of dead silence, Inuyasha was ready to jump out of his skin.

“Hahahaha,” Kagome’s laughter catches everyone completely off guard.  “Oh Inu,” she cups his cheeks with tears caught in the corners of her eyes, “Was that you asking me to marry you?  Because I accept.”

“Even if we stay here?”

“Yes,” Kagome’s smile brightens, “home for me will always be wherever you are.”    

His face lights up and he leans in, giving her a kiss, “I’m gonna spend the rest of our life making you happy Kagome.”

“I know you will.”

“Ahem.”  The strong male voice cuts into their little world.  The couple stiffens, remembering where they were.  “Well now that, that’s settled, I shall leave you two to the wife here to start planning your wedding.  I’m proud of you son.  You found yourself a good woman there.”

Kagome blushes, “thank you, your highness.”

“We’re family now, lady Kagome, call me Toga,” he nods and goes back to his duties.

“Ahhhhh!  A wedding!” Izayoi screams and claps her hands, “I have dreamt of this day for so long!”

“Mom!”

The woman pulls Kagome to her feet, “this is so exciting!  Let’s get started!”  She starts to drag her out of the room.  

When Kagome looks to Inuyasha for help, he shrugs and mouths I’m sorry.  There was no stopping his mother once she got an idea in her head.  He watches the women walk away, his mom babbling on and on, and smiles to himself.  When he’d left the castle expecting to find his path in life, nothing could have foretold that this is where he would end up.  Home again with the love of his life and a future of new possibilities.    

[usurpyr-a]

[ taste ] for (Mikasa) to cook for (Eren) :''^)

                             “... Huh ? What’s all this for ?”

THERE’S NO special occasion he can convince himself of: no significant date he recognizes as belonging to an important anniversary / a holiday / a reason why that would offer up a substantial enough explanation to excuse his rampant paranoia. Not that he distrusts Mikasa, necessarily, not in the way of cooking - she carries a familiarity with her into the kitchen that is indicative of a quiet childhood spent at her mother’s elbow, watching her work ( the both of them ). A far cry from the days of his careless youth, when the retort to his own mother’s asking for assistance in preparing dinner had been something along the lines of “but that’s a girl’s job” - to which he had been promptly hauled up by the ear and made out to be an unwilling accomplice, every night, for a whole month, until he knew his way around the knife and ladle. Unaware, the whole while, that even his vehement railing against the unjust ‘punishment’ he had received was all just a part of her grand design - a patient waiting game / a guiding hand: what do you want to have tonight, Eren ? How about I teach you to dice potatoes, hm ? Or maybe we could make something sweet, what do you think ? Some apple tarts, how does that sound ? Can you do it on your own this time ? Can you show me how you made it ? How does it taste ? What did you learn ? Wasn’t that fun ? I’m so proud of you, you know.

No, he doesn’t distrust Mikasa as a chef. The problem is that he trusts her almost a little too much - the smell of that vegetable stew she had just placed in front of him is uncannily nostalgic, after all. Bordering even on the absurd. He nearly convinces himself of some kind of witchcraft, a trick of the senses / memory betraying him for an idolized ideal, that’s all, that’s all. But. He finds himself picking up the spoon regardless. He falls all-too-easily back into that old habit of not asking too many questions, at least when food is involved. Fresh food, at that - more than a starving little orphan on the street could ever hope for in the depths of a recession. He’ll just have to accept the reality that this is, apparently, another one of Mikasa’s spontaneous ‘good deeds’, which have been becoming more frequent as of lately ... Restlessness, perhaps ? He has always known Mikasa to be a very, ah, active spirit. Nevermind that most of these ‘random’ acts of kindness have been dedicated specifically to him, it seems - just another facet of her coddling, overbearing, protective mother-hen nature. Though he has not quite yet reached his threshold for refusing her at every turn ( so he will forgive her this once ).

Eren takes a tentative sip of broth - she’d had the courtesy to wait for it to cool a touch before serving, knowing full-well he’d scarf down any meal too-quick to register his tastebuds melting until he was already more than halfway through. He hums, feeling a stubborn knot in his sternum finally relax under the torrent of warmth flooding through him. This is ... exactly like Mom used to make. I didn’t think such a thing was possible, after all this time ... had Mikasa really been paying that much attention ? It’s a ... not an unwelcome feeling, but ... For whatever reason, he’s reluctant to admit how much this has moved him / shifted something inside, as though a burden has finally been unshackled, the skin raw from where it had chafed against guilt. He can’t recall the last time he ever felt such a way. And Mikasa was able to do it, with a simple soup from when we were kids ...

“It’s ... good,” he finally manages, swallowing heavily. Suddenly, the idea strikes him: possibly ill-conceived, but the words are already tumbling out of his careless lips, too late to take back. “Hey,” he continues, looking evenly at her, “you should have some, too. Doesn’t feel right, me having all this for myself when you’re the one that worked so hard to make in the first place.”

Except. He already knows her answer, sees it in the nervous wrinkle of her nose: I’m alright / I made it for you / just enjoy it, okay ? He tries not to let his annoyance show, convinces himself of his maturity, the years spanning between the here-and-now. But something is inexplicably pulling him back into his past ... not that he is resisting it. And this is not a childhood of bitter arguments and scraped knees, utensils tied haphazardly to the ends of broomsticks, the ground trembling underfoot / eyes transfixed on the haunting image of some cherished someone’s last moments in the hand of a giant marauder-- This is warm summer days and carefree laughter echoing through the streets, a parent’s unconditional affection, pillowcases suspended from a clothesline / their billowing reminiscent of far-off ocean waves. These memories are cherished, yes, but have wasted away in his mind’s eye / been buried like so much else under the rubble of his old life, the life that could have ( should have ) been. How can he be sure he is remembering correctly ? How can he be sure he is recalling the correct taste, the correct atmosphere ? When he’d last thought of his mother, was she different than as he thinks of her now ? How many of her wrinkles has he smoothed over in his imagination ? How many of his angry, hurtful words has he since swept from her brow, in an effort to preserve her forever as the saint-savior-martyr of his youth ? All along, has he been the one robbing himself of resolution ?

... He’s never been good at it, talking to Mikasa. He’s never been any good at talking in general, forever to be known as the bull-headed boy that goes about spouting whatever inane nonsense that jumps to the tip of his tongue. He’s reserved himself, recently, to speaking only in whispers / small sentences / clipped tones. Perhaps that is the greatest deception he’s ever committed himself to: a manic desire to be at once suddenly unapproachable. But especially in the earliest of hours, like today’s, his guard slackens / slips off like an ill-fitting coat, too large for his slim shoulders. He’s never been good at pretending, either, but that hardly matters when any mood he adopts nowadays never seems to be able to find its purchase against the smooth rock wall of indifference that stands ( ever-present ) between them. As though he can do no wrong - as though he hasn’t been trying.

Eren abruptly clears his throat before discreetly glancing at Mikasa from behind the thick curtain of hair falling over his face. It’s getting long. He should really cut it soon. But, ah ...

“... You’ve been eating,” he states, less like a question and more like an accusation, “-right ? I was just remembering .. when you first came to live with me and my family. You didn’t eat anything for days - Mom thought you were ‘gonna starve yourself.” It’s a cheap, underhanded tactic, but it works - is likely to work, anyways. Eren leans back in his seat, turning over a chunk of potato in his dish. He relaxes his words, feigning nonchalance / his levity tentatively genuine. “First thing we got you to choke down was some soup, just like this ... but, heh, you only agreed to because I said I wasn’t going to eat anything so long as you weren’t.” A strange twitch of his upper lip warns of a smile threatening a larger grin / something showing teeth. “I was real serious about it, too,” he adds. “Thought I could go weeks without food if I had to. If it’d make sure you came around, eventually.”

Maybe it’s selfish of him, to weaponize those particular memories against her / in an contrived effort to comfort. But it serves to make its point: he does worry about her, in his own strange fashion - in a way even he himself cannot recognize as totally altruistic in nature. Though he does not leave the anecdote unscathed, either; he can’t stop rubbing his wrists, can’t stop itching them with blunted fingernails, afraid of his newfound freedom ( after all, what would an animal born in captivity possibly know of a life meant to be lived without restraint ? ). Despite how obediently he chews and swallows, at some point the reward of her hard work turns to a mass of indistinguishable mush in his mouth / sticking to his tongue, the backs of his molars. This simple action, too, is made awkward - thanks in no small part to his social incompetence. His ears start ringing as a damming blush dusts their tips, perhaps in punishment of his childlike over-eagerness ( “I can show you how to make it sometime, if you want - Mom taught me how.” ).

Eren dips the spoon in again, holding it out carelessly - though his hand does not waver. He schools his features into something more serious / a replication of his boyish self, all those years ago, caught scowling across the dining room table by a girl who could not swallow the weight of that gaze / no more than she could the meal slipped in front of her, whose smell only sickened - which only reminded her of the home now lost to her. He remembers his mother scolding him, back then - reminding him to give her space, to let her grieve, to never expect anything more than she was capable of day-by-day, always at her own pace. But he’s never been a very patient person.

                            “ ... Eh ? How about it ?” He gestures again, tilting his head to one side, as though expectant. “Come on. Try some. For me ? I mean, I won’t have any more unless you take a bite ... Fair’s fair, and all that.”

non-verbal meme.

[thepalace]

In The Royal House.

➳  It seems that fate called the princess back to Bambam’s kingdom as the queen has fallen ill and the young prince has been thinking of his lover.

characters ➳ Yong Eunjung, Bambam

warnings ➳ a little angst.

“Jungie, why do you have to leave?”

“To protect your kingdom, Bamie,”

“But do you really have to leave? You promised that you will study with me! I thought you are my personal friend! You broke your promise! Hmmp!”

“It’s my job, Bamie. It’s my duty to protect you as well as your kingdom, our kingdom. I’ll be back sooner before you know it,”

“Yeah, right you’ll be back. It’s been 5 years, Eunjung.” Prince Bambam muttered to himself as he glanced towards the photo of him and his childhood friend, his first love, who is also his personal royal guard.

He has been waiting for her, for years. He still didn’t lose that hope.

Too deep into his own thoughts, a loud knock made him return to reality. Bambam turned towards the door, to see a worried looking royal head maid.

“Your highness! It’s your mother! Her condition has worsened!” 

“Eunjung, princess?”

The girl stopped her movement, looking at the door to see the King peeking his head into her room.

“Yes, father?”

“You’re really going to Bambam’s kingdom?” 

“I have to. I need to, father. Prince Bambam’s mother is sick. I have the antidote to help cure her sickness,” said Eunjung as she was packing her clothes into her suitcase. She has already prepared another suitcase that is filled with equipment.

Eunjung is a royal doctor, she is actually a retired royal guard who is now a certified and known doctor among other kingdoms. She even teaches people about general and health medicine.

Since she has an older brother who is going to be next in line for the throne, Eunjung had discussed her title with both her father and her late mother and thankfully, they gave her full blessings on her journey to become a royal doctor.

Her father, King Yong smiled proudly as he approached her.

“Here, take this.” King Yong handed her a very familiar necklace, making Eunjung squint at the carved necklace.

“Isn’t this the necklace that was given by someone?” muttered Eunjung and King Yong sighed.

“It was specifically given by Prince Bambam. I don’t know if you remembered but before you left, he gave you the necklace as a promise that he is your royal guard,” explained King Yong with a soft smile.

“That’s cheesy,” mumbled Eunjung as she took the necklace from him, causing King Yong to chuckle as he watched her daughter wear the necklace.

“But why did you keep the necklace to yourself? Why is it in your hands anyway?” questioned Eunjung as she continued packing her stuff.

“You were the one who specifically gave it to me, Eunjung.” answered King Yong in surprise and Eunjung stopped her movements, somehow remembering.

“Dad. Here.”

“What is this? This is from Prince Bambam. You should wear it! It’s rude to not wear a gift that was gifted by the pr—

“Dad, I’m going for a war. If I can’t make it, you hold it and give it back to him,”

“I guess you forget about it and the prince too, since you were in a coma for more than a month,” King Yong mumbled, causing Eunjung to sighed loudly.

“That was the worst pain I have ever felt,” muttered Eunjung as she closed her suitcase with a thud.

“I should get going, father.” 

“Do you need a ride?” 

“I’m all good, father. I have ride with me - which is Tom, my all time favorite horse,” Eunjung smirked her way towards the King, following her daughter's footsteps as they walked together out the room then towards the entrance of the royal palace.

Her horse was already being set up by the royal butlers, Eunjung turned towards her father.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back but I will write you mails, okay father?” assured Eunjung as she gave a tight hug on her father.

“I know, princess. I know. I’m proud of you,” muttered the King as he watched Eunjung hop onto her horse.

“I’ll send an emergency mail to the Queen,” exclaimed King Yong as he was acknowledged by a nod from Eunjung before she whips her horse slightly - watching the horse galloping its way with the princess.

With a proud smile, King Yong prayed that his daughter’s journey and adventure would go smoothly.

The sound of a horse neighing plus its galloping made the people of Bambam’s Kingdom look over to see an unfamiliar girl whipping her horse in the middle of the road, going towards the palace.

The sight of the palace made Eunjung in awe, seeing how fancy and elegant the palace is. 

Eunjung couldn’t remember much about Bambam’s kingdom. Ever since she had a coma from the dangerous war a few years ago, Eunjung has lost bits and pieces of her memories of Bambam’s kingdom.

Her focus was so into the palace that she didn’t know there were guards trying to stop Eunjung from entering the palace - making her horse to neigh out loud.

Eunjung frowns as she sees lots of guards guarding outside the palace. It was as if they were ready to attack anyone who came near them.

“I’m here to see the Queen!” yelled Eunjung as she was trying to calm Tom down.

“The Queen is unwell to see anyone! Go back to your place!” One of the guards yelled to her, causing Eunnjung to frown deeply as she slightly glared towards the guards.

Eunjung pulled Tom to the side as they went in a different direction.

She spent her whole afternoon trying to find ways to get into the palace. Too tired to find more ways, Eunjung decided to roam around the small town - then to find a very familiar shed.

“What's this?” Eunjung muttered as they approached the old, shabby shed. She inspected the area and it seems that no one owns the shed.

Eunjung dismounted from Tom, approaching the shed as she opens the door of the shed - being greeted by flying dust causing her to cough out loud. With a sword on her hands and a torch on her other hand, Eunjung looked towards Tom before entering the shabby shed.

When all of a sudden, she was being greeted by a strange pain on her head, causing her to shriek slightly.

“Hey Eunjung. When we grow up, let’s own a shed so that we can put Tom and Jerry together!”

“You name your horse Jerry?”

“Yeah! You named yours Tom, so I’m going to name mine Jerry! Since both of them are siblings!”

“Oh no..” Eunjung muttered as she looked around the old, dirty and shabby shed. It seems that this is where she was when she was just a teenager. 

“What are you doing?”

A deep voice made Eunjung turn towards the voice with the sword pointing towards its owner. 

The man was already pointing his arrow towards Eunjung, his eyes narrowing towards her. He looked like he was about to shoot her anytime.

Both of them had a staring contest, Eunjung trying to figure out who is the dirty silvered haired man.

“Who are you? Jack Frost?” voiced Eunjung, her voice came out nonchalant - which caused the silver haired man to frown slightly followed by letting out a slight smirk.

“Yeah, part time Jack Frost. I could say the same thing to you as well. Who are you and what are you doing in my shed?” 

“Your shed? This is your shed?” questioned Eunjung as she slowly put down her sword. The man opposite her was still on guard, his arrow still pointing at her.

“Yeah, what about it?” he muttered as Eunjung looked around.

“It’s shabby, alright. It’s dirty and dusty. Any horse who lives here might fall ill anytime,” complained Eunjung, causing the man to frown deeply - a very visible frown is plastered on his face, trying to figure out who this very brave young woman is.

No one had dared to point a sword nor speaking casually towards him, since he is a prince. A prince to the kingdom of where the young woman is stepping foot to. 

“Who are you? You aren’t surely not the one who poisoned the queen,” mumbled Bambam - making Eunjung snap her head towards him, seeing him lowering his arrow.

“Poisoned? The queen is poisoned?” repeated Eunjung as the man stared at her.

“What? You surely didn’t suspect me to be the one who poisoned the queen. I haven’t even stepped foot in her kingdom for years.” confessed Eunjung as she tilted her head, her hands on her hips as she turned towards Tom.

“You have to get me to the queen,” Eunjung turned towards the man who looked taken aback.

“Why? What’s your relationship with her?” he asked in curiosity.

“I’m the one who is being sent to cure the queen,”

“Why didn’t you say so?” he questioned as he turned towards the mysterious woman, as she was pulling her horse along. 

The young prince instantly believed the woman as soon as she showed him the different types of tools being used by a royal doctor.

“You were suspecting me while trying to slowly shoot me in the head. What am I supposed to say?” 

The silvered hair man chuckled as he watched the woman shaking her head.

“I have never seen you before, and I guess you have never seen me before too - hearing the way how you talk to me,” he trailed off and she turned towards him with a slight frown.

“That’s because I’m not from here,” 

“Right, as I guessed.” he continued as he guided the woman and her horse into the palace, going towards a secret passageway.

“I’ve never seen this passage before. Is this for the royals?” she voiced out while her eyes roamed around the underground tunnel.

“Yes it is. Only the royals in our palace know this. Not even the guards or the maids know. That’s how I escaped most of the royal meetings,” he boasted, causing her to look at him weirdly.

“You escape royal meetings? Won’t the queen be furious?” 

“Why would she? I’m mostly the one who is incharge of everything.”

“You?”

Eunjung looked at him in confusion as the young man looked at her in disbelief - still not figuring out what is his title.

“Well I’m—

“Your majesty!”

A royal maid came running towards both of them while yelling towards them.

“Your majesty! It’s the queen! She is coughing blood! We need the doctor!” 

Eunjung looked towards the silvered hair man, as she held onto his hand - causing him to turned towards her with a worried expression.

“You have to get me to her, now. Before it’s too late,”

➳ masterlist

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

The Guardian’s Oath, Part Thirteen

Ok, I’ve been at this for over a month at this point and it’s a relief to say that we’re approaching the home stretch. I think we’re still looking at a few more posts- three or four?- but things are starting to wind down. Or up. There is winding happening. If you’d like to get caught up, you can find all the previous parts linked in the Master List. If you’d like to let me know your theories as to what’s happening/ going to happen, that is very welcome!

Pairing: Feargal Devitt/ Finn Balor/ OFC

Word count: 1,632 (shorter bit this time!)

Content advisory: nothing for this part

Once she had left, Kate excused herself to wash the dishes, clearly aware that the Reverend and I wanted to speak alone. 

“Are you going to tell me I’m being unfair to the boy?” Feargal asked. 

“If you’d punished him just for daydreaming about folk tales then I’d tell you I thought it harsh but he was insolent to you when you questioned him about it. He shouldn’t be talking back to his elders and especially his father that way.”

“But you do think I’m being harsh.”

“I sympathize with his disappointment,” I conceded. “And I suspect that a lack of exercise in the last couple of weeks is partly responsible for his bad behavior this morning.”

“You seem to be going out of your way to avoid telling me you think I’m wrong.”

“I’m not trying to say that you’re in the wrong! Just because I can understand his feelings doesn’t mean I automatically side with him over you!” Feargal rolled his eyes and that was enough to bring tears to my eyes. “I don’t understand why you seem to be trying to pick a fight with me.”

He turned to look at me and the second he saw my pained face, his expression softened. He walked over to my side and kissed my forehead, cradling my face in his hand, becoming the man I had married once again. 

“Forgive me, love,” he cooed in my ear, “I think perhaps I’m questioning my own reaction. I don’t want to deprive my son of a well-deserved day off. I have some bad memories associated with some of the local stories, and with those of Finn Balor most of all. I’ve told the servants not to repeat those tales to the children but I know that they forget and do it anyway. So at the least I try to keep the children from believing in them.”

“Your bad memories,” I ventured, “do they have something to do with your late wife?”

He sighed and gave me a little nod. 

“During her… decline… Sarah started believing in all sorts of strange things. She’d hear these otherwise harmless little fables from people in the village and she’d suddenly start acting as if they were facts. She believed that the old caretaker at the burial ground next to the church was a ghost, for instance. But worst of all were the ideas she got in her head after she heard about Finn Balor.

It must seem ridiculous to you, the idea of a grown woman believing that there was some kind of goblin or demon lurking about but she did. Sometimes, she’d say that this Balor was threatening the children. Sometimes she’d lay in bed for days because she claimed she’d been injured fighting him. Then, when she said she was going to have a third child, it became worse. One minute, she’d be saying that she had a demon inside her and the next, she’d be claiming that I was some kind of monster who meant to steal the baby from her.”

Tears coated his eyes and he blinked rapidly to try to clear them away. 

“I’m so sorry, my love,” I hummed. 

“What harm could she have thought I would bring my own child?” 

“She wasn’t thinking right. Her mind was ill. No one who knew you could ever imagine that you could hurt a child.”

I felt knots of guilt and tension twisting inside me as I heard the story. How was it that I had confused him, however briefly, with this same creature? How had I let myself believe that this beautiful, innocent man next to me could be anything other than the angel he seemed? It was not the first moment that I had questioned my own sanity since arriving at this place but it was the first time that I felt that I was potentially a danger to the others there. 

“I’ll take Sophia out for a walk,” I soothed him. “Why don’t you talk to William and then you can come and meet us if you think it’s warranted.”

“As always, you are my angel of good sense.”

*

Sophia was quiet for the first part of our walk, her eyes flitting over my form as we made our way down to the sand. The last step had always been a little loose and the winter had apparently made it more so. I moved slowly, trying to balance my strange new body. 

“Here,” she said, taking my arm in hers and guiding me down, “you need help.”

I thanked her and was a little surprised when she tightened her grip on my arm to steady me on the uneven surface. 

“Why does Papa hate it so much when we talk about things like Finn Balor?”

“I’m not sure,” I stammered. “I suppose he doesn’t want you to start believing things that aren’t true.”

“It’s more than that,” she continued sagely. “You know it is too.”

“Whatever his reasons, we should respect his wishes. It does us no harm to push those things from our minds.”

“Can you do that? Can you just push something out of your mind if you don’t want it there?” She seemed incredulous. “I can’t. There are lots of things that I’d like to never think about again but that doesn’t mean I can stop them.”

“We all think about things from time to time, but the idea is he doesn’t want us wasting our time dwelling on them. You’re smart enough to understand that.”

Sophia smiled a little deviously, leading us closer to the water. I wasn’t happy about the idea of getting wet but the sand was firmer where it was damp and so I didn’t resist. 

“You say “we”, like you’re included. You’ve thought about those sorts of things too, haven’t you?”

I nodded but immediately said, “I’ve always been easily frightened since I was a girl.”

“No,” the girl countered, “I think you were really scared when we told you about Balor. I think that you felt like he was real the same way we did.”

“Such things aren’t real.”

“Our mother thought there was a spirit in the house, you know. She thought it meant to harm us. She said that it wanted to take Colin when he was born.”

“I’m sorry that you had to hear that. I don’t mean to say anything against her but that must have been very hard for a little girl to understand and I can see why you’d be frightened and confused.”

“Sometimes at night, she’d come and sleep in my bed when she was upset. She’d have to curl up to fit in but she said that she wanted to be with us so that we’d be safe. She’d say all sorts of things.”

Sophia continued to head towards the water, pulling hard on my arm despite my increasing resistance. 

“She told me that we couldn’t ever be safe from this thing that lurked in the house because it was as much its home as ours. She was certain it was going to take one of the children, one of three, but she promised she’d protect us.”

With a sudden movement, Sophia hopped onto a slab of rock that jutted through the sand. She jerked my arm forward and down to pull me after her but I lost my footing and found myself on my knees in the sand as water pooled around me. Sophia locked her hands on my shoulders, dark eyes gleaming and tendrils of her hair caught in the wind, making her look like something feral. 

“If you believe, you can protect us from what Papa can’t,” she whispered harshly. “Will you? Will you keep us safe?”

The sun hit my eyes and for a moment it was like the girl herself was transformed into something magical, but then she was before me once again, the beautiful, strange child that I’d cared for as my own and all I wanted was for her to know that she could trust me. 

“Yes,” I promised, “yes I will.”

She smiled serenely and helped me back to my feet as some voices hailed us from a distance. 

William reached us first, able to run at a shocking speed even as the wet sand pulled at his feet. As he came charging up, Sophia held her arm out to make sure that he stopped before he ran into me. The two of them exchanged a knowing glance and she arched her eyebrows at him. 

“Papa told me you said I should be allowed to come,” William grinned. 

“As long as you understand why you were wrong to speak to him as you did, then you deserve to have a day to relax.”

“He needs to learn to think more before he speaks,” Sophia scolded.

“I’ll race you back to the rocks,” he challenged her. 

She took off without even accepting, him hot on her heels as Feargal reached me. 

“What on Earth happened to you, love?”

I looked down at my clothing, soiled and damp from my spill earlier. “I’m afraid I lost my footing, but Sophia was able to help me back up.”

“Are you quite sure you feel up to this?”

“Yes, and I suspect that soon I won’t feel up to anything, so I’m going to enjoy this walk even if I keep falling down all day.”

He laughed at my uncharacteristic obstinacy and took my hand. The children scampered around the rocks and life seemed sweetly normal. But I found myself startled at every strange noise, every shadow I saw from the corner of my eye. I could not relax because, as mad as it seemed, I believed that there was something from which I had to protect my family. 

[datheetjoella]

Fantober 2020, Day 12: Enchanted Forest

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 12/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,799 Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Human!Makoto, Elf!Haru, First Meeting, Magic, Fluff Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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

Tired and worn-out from his travels, Makoto weaved through the dark woods in search of a place to camp out for the night. Preferably at a river or a creek, somewhere he could refill his flasks and wash his face. His horse was starting to lose speed, so hopefully, he would find a good spot before she had to give in to exhaustion.

Then, the sound of running water drowned out the symphony of owls and crickets. He followed it and to his delight, he stumbled upon a glade at the bottom of a cliff. A pristine waterfall cascaded down the rocks, flowing down into a moderately-sized lake.

Relief engulfed Makoto from within and he leapt off his horse, guiding her over to the edge of the lake so she could drink from it. He kneeled and peered into the water. Moonlight shimmered on the surface, illuminating every droplet. Never before had Makoto seen such clean water; there were no fish or algae in the lake, not as much as a leaf or a branch floating down the stream or caught on the sides. It seemed almost divine and the mere sight of it made his scratchy throat even drier.

He cupped his hands and let the water flood his palms, gratefully drinking as much as he could get. The water tasted even better than it looked, fresh and crisp like it rejuvenated him from the inside.

Once he'd quenched his thirst, Makoto checked the trees to see if anyone was around. When he was sure the coast was clear, he disrobed himself and dove into the water headfirst.

When he broke through the surface, he felt reborn. The fatigue and strain of his travels slipped off him, leaving nothing but contentment and serenity in his heart. Although he was miles removed from home, Makoto had never felt quite as comfortable as he did within this lake.

Alas, this feeling did not last.

A shadow moved behind the waterfall and Makoto let out a strangled screech, hastily covering his nude chest. Through the stream emerged a man, someone whose presence he hadn't noticed before.

Fear spread through Makoto's body like he'd been hit with a poison-tipped arrow; he was alone in the dark forest in a rather compromising position. Even if he hadn't been, he was not exactly the type suited for combat anyway and he saw no opportunity to make a quick escape.

But when the man stepped forward and the moonlight showered over his face, Makoto's fear evaporated.

Long, dark robes that reached down to the ground were wrapped around his slender body. Pointed ears poked through a curtain of dark hair, framing his small face. His features were soft and elegant and his pale skin contrasted the darkness of the night. But the most mesmerising parts of him were his eyes, blue and piercing. Like he could peer straight into the past, present and future.

Elves were rumoured to be gorgeous and although Makoto had never seen one in person, he was certain this man was among the most beautiful in their entire species. His appearance made him forget about the world around him, enchanted by a single glance.

But then, the elf's expression shifted, from neutral to confused. Or rather, shocked.

"Who are you?" he said, and despite the vibrant distress in his tone, his voice had a calming effect on Makoto. "How did you find this place?"

"Oh, um I," Makoto stuttered, unsure which question to answer first. "I was looking for a place to rest for the night. I heard the waterfall, so I followed the sound and it brought me here."

"Impossible."

"Sorry, am I not supposed to be here?" Perhaps he was trespassing on elven territory without his awareness. "If that's the case, I'll leave immediately. I don't mean to cause any trouble."

The elf seemed to be at a loss for words and the uncomfortable, misplaced feeling in Makoto's stomach grew.

"The water…" the elf said after a brief pause, "did you drink from it?"

"Yeah," Makoto said, cowering into himself like he was being scolded by his mother. "My horse did, too. Is that bad?"

A loud groan left the elf's lips and before Makoto could blink, his robes were flying through the air and water splashed upwards, sending ripples of waves throughout the lake. He emerged right in front of Makoto's nose, shaking the beads from his hair.

It startled Makoto and heat warmed his cheeks when he realised how clear the water was and how he was still very much naked. The look inside the elf's eyes was fierce and sharp and Makoto wasn't quite sure whether he should be embarrassed or scared.

"Listen, if I did something that I shouldn't have, then I sincerely apologise," Makoto said, frantically waving his hands as if to prove his innocence. "Please believe me when I say that I had no ill intentions. I just wanted to wash up and fill my flasks, I meant no harm."

After another second of staring in scrutiny, the elf relented. "I believe you. What's your name?"

"Makoto. And yours?"

"I'm Haruka. Haru," the elf said. "Say, Makoto, you have no idea where you are, do you?"

"Not a clue." Makoto sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck.

"This is the Sacred Moon Spring. Every droplet of this spring has been infused with ancient magic and every full moon, its magical properties are replenished and the water is at its most powerful." Haruka looked up at the sky and Makoto followed his line of vision; the moon was large and round, standing out brightly between the trees.

This was not good. No wonder he felt so refreshed. "We drank from the sacred, magic water…" Makoto stated the obvious. "So, what happens now?"

"I don't know. My clan has been guarding this spring for centuries, but no human has ever come near here, let alone drank from the water," Haruka said, "To be honest, I'm not sure how you even found this place. There's a protective spell around this area, a barrier that's supposed to keep all non-elven creatures out. Not even birds or deer can pass through."

"Oh," Makoto said, drawing circles on the surface with his fingers, "Well, there's this story in my family that my mother's great-great-grandmother was a Woodland Elf, but I always thought that was just a tale. Do you think it could be true?"

Haruka shrugged. "I guess it is. I don't have any other explanation why you would be allowed to pass through. The barrier must've detected elven blood in you."

"But there's so much more human blood in me, and I don't look like an elf at all."

"You don't," Haruka said as he took a step closer. "But your eyes do."

Makoto frowned. "My eyes?"

"Hm. They're… vibrant." When Haruka noticed how close he'd gotten and how breathy his voice had been, he blushed all the way up to his ears and increased the distance between their bodies. The pink hue looked immensely cute against his pearly skin. He coughed and tried to regain his aloof demeanour. "So, I suppose you are a descendent of a Woodland Elf."

"But what about my horse? I don't think she had a great-great-grandmother who was an elf."

"Were you riding her when you arrived here?" When Makoto nodded, Haruka said, "Then that's why. You lead her here, and your authority granted her permission to pass through, too."

That did make sense, as much as any of this magical spring situation could. Maybe there was an off chance he had bumped his head against a low hanging branch and was hallucinating, or maybe he fell asleep beneath a willow and this was all a dream. But was his simple mind truly capable of conjuring up something so fantastical, or someone as beautiful as Haruka?

Ashamed of his thoughts, Makoto said, "If I'm not supposed to be here, then I shall leave. I wouldn't want to disturb the balance of this place."

"You can stay, if you'd like," Haruka said, brushing his fringe back to appear nonchalant, "if the barrier let you through, then I see no reason to reject your presence."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on this sacred place. If there's a barrier to keep humans out, then I can't imagine it's okay for a human to bathe himself in this water."

"As the guardian of this sacred place, I'm sure," Haruka said, "To be honest with you, no one is allowed to touch this water with their bare hands, not even I. It's used in important rituals in my clan."

"Then I should get out! I'm so sorry," Makoto said in a combination of disbelief and panic; Haruka didn't seem to care, but the last thing he wanted was to be struck with an elven curse if anyone else found out.

A hand on his shoulder held him back. It was small and felt cold, yet it also emitted a strange sort of heat.

"You already touched it and drank from it, so I don't see why I would send you away now. The water is already contaminated, and truthfully, it was long before you even got here."

"What do you mean?"

"How could I guard such a beautiful spring without going for a swim every night? There truly is no water like it." For a second, a hint of an adorable smile was visible on Haruka's face before he let himself fall backwards underwater and Makoto couldn't help but laugh. Haruka was the first elf he'd ever met and a rather odd one at that, but Makoto had an inkling they were going to get along very well.

All throughout the night, Makoto stayed inside the spring and talked with Haruka while floating beside him. They discussed their everyday lives, Makoto's family and his apprenticeship at a blacksmith a couple of towns away from his home, Haruka's clan and their traditions - and Haruka's disinterest in adhering to them -, how Haruka became the guardian of the spring and what effects the water could possibly have on Makoto and his horse.

The hours flew by and Makoto completely lost himself in their conversations and in Haruka. He didn't sleep a wink, but the water energised him like no amount of rest could and there was nothing that could whisk him away from this place. That wasn't because of elven magic, though, but because of Haruka. Makoto's suspicions were confirmed; Haruka turned out to be just as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside.

Many things about his future were uncertain now, but there was one thing Makoto knew for sure: this would not be the last night Haruka and he spent together.

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 5

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo investigates Demyx further, and comes to a shocking revelation.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo told Aeleus everything.

The man seemed more tired than usual. He’d been gone for the past two days on some resistance mission neither Even nor Ienzo really knew anything about. He’d slept soundlessly, almost breathlessly, on the couch for two hours before Ienzo tried to feed him and convince him to sleep in his proper bed. But when Aeleus asked how he was… the words had spilled out of him almost against his will.

“There are more people like me here, Aeleus,” he finished. “That much is certain.”

Aeleus ate steadily. Ienzo had made pho; he’d forgotten how much he missed cooking with an actual full kitchen. “Of course there are,” he said. “Not everyone goes underground in our sense. Some merely prefer to hide.”

“In some ways I feel so… naive,” he admitted slowly. “I wish you would tell me some things so I don’t feel so ignorant.”

Aeleus smiled and squeezed Ienzo’s hand. “If I could, I would,” he said. “Even I am only allowed to know pieces, parts.” He set aside his empty bowl. “Though I am curious. I had thought all the seeker lines… were eradicated.”

“But why, if they’re functionally harmless? He has no magic.”

Aeleus rubbed at his eyes. “Their abilities are purely passive… and somewhat latent. It’s thought seekers would do anything to trigger their own abilities, even if they do not consciously realize it. But once they wake… they are a force to be reckoned with. Their individualism was what made them dangerous.”

Ienzo exhaled. Was that why Demyx was so drawn to him? Because on some level he thought Ienzo’s power would awaken his own?

“...Moreover… and Even would say this is all silly mythology.”

“If Even says it’s silly, then I want to know it all the more.”

“Seekers pairbond. It’s thought they spend their days looking for their soulmate… and if they find them, they know. Ironically… despite the individualism, they are nearly dependent on those they bond with."

Ienzo smiled a little. “That is very mythic.”

“I admit I’m rather jealous of you. I’d like to meet one.”

“Well, if I can be subtle about it, I’ll ask him.”

“He might not know much about his own culture.”

“...Soulmates.” Ienzo shook his head. “As if anyone has time for love right now.”

---

Still, why was it Ienzo agreed to see him again?

Thanks to the psychology professor, Eraqus, he was able to test out of many gen-ed courses. But this left Ienzo with a dilemma--namely, that he had no idea what to actually major in. It seemed like a superficial problem to have, on top of all this.

“ Precisely why I wanted you to actually take those classes,” Even told him, with a scowl. “To get to know your cohort, your community--because that influences it too.”

Ienzo pursed his lips. “Why bother, when we might have to run again at any moment? You should have at the very least given me the choice, Even.”

His disposition did not improve. “You know little of the actual world. Gods forbid I try to actually let you learn.”

“Learn what? On paper, I already know all of the content. And you don’t want me to truly get close to anyone--else you would actually let me socialize, instead of calling me until I return home.”

His head snapped up from his computer. “How dare I worry for you, you mean? If there are Heartless and seekers and goodness knows what else--”

“Even. I can take care of myself. You have to let me make my own decisions. Otherwise, what type of ruler would I ever hope to be?” A bit of an underhanded move, but true regardless.

Even turned pink, and his scowl deepened. He knew Ienzo had cornered him. “Very well . Now leave me be. I have to finish this report.”

Ienzo put on a jacket and left the house. He told Demyx he’d meet him at the streetcar station nearest the beach. He thought about what Aeleus told him, about soulmates. He thought of the warmth, the prickling he’d felt with his own magic whenever they were together. Was it possible that--?

Perhaps it was simply a silly schoolboy crush, and given that he’d never much had one on anyone else, this was just how his magic reacted normally. Surely he couldn’t simply ask Demyx what he’d felt, could he?

Something to ponder. Aeleus had said it was myth. Ienzo reminded himself to try and study more magic history. It had been some time, and he was rusty.

The streetcar was relatively empty for this time of day, so his trip was smooth and easy. Ienzo liked public transit, its cleanliness, its efficiency. If only all of life could be organized so neatly. He watched the band of sea grow closer and closer until finally the conductor urged him to get off at the terminus.

The memories of the sea were louder now, harder to fight-- Braig, where is _____?

I dunno, I just turned around for five seconds, couldn’t have gone far--

The feeling of water rushing into his lungs, sand as the riptide tossed him back and forth like a ragdoll-- then a memory he was almost certain he hadn’t recalled in some time, of another child in the water, a child with blonde hair and shiny scales guiding him towards the surface--

“Hey, Zo! You made it!”

Ienzo gasped a little. He had to have corroborated that memory. It was impossible that happened--Braig had to have been the one who saved him from drowning, or Aeleus, not some kind of--creature that looked just like the man in front of him-- “Hi, Demyx.”

He cocked his head. “You okay?”

“Yes… I… fine. Shall we?”

“Uh. Sure.”

They walked along the boardwalk, the old, sand-weathered boards creaking under their feet. Various food vendors, gift shops, and game booths dotted the surface, leading to a set of stairs down to the beach itself. “You ever been?” Demyx asked. “It’s too cold to swim, but still pretty to look at.”

Ienzo breathed that sea-tinted air, the echoes of the memory making both him and his magic feel… so very strange. Was he being put in a thrall? But this felt like none of the thralls Even and Merlin had trained him on. It did not feel like conscious magic. “Sure. Let’s go.”

They took off their shoes when they got to the water. The sand, in this twilight, was pleasantly warm. A few people milled about; the brave were swimming, some wading, others flying kites or playing with dogs or simply watching the water. They walked closely enough that every few drifts of tide, Ienzo could just barely feel the cool water on his toes. He felt… relaxed, he realized, even in the presence of this essential stranger.

“Does this remind you of your home?” Ienzo asked him. Demyx’s expression was dreamy, his eyes trained on the ocean outside.

“It… does. Whenever I really feel homesick�� I come down here. It’s a little too cold for surfing now, but even just the sound of the waves… or the birds…” He sighed. “I was supposed to go back for a visit. Before it… fell.”

“I truly am sorry.”

He smiled sadly. “It’s not your fault.”

Ienzo wondered if it actually was; if he hadn’t been running, if he’d done something or fought , would Destiny Islands be whole?

Demyx took a breath. “I wanted to… talk to you about something,” he said. “And I know it’s going to sound totally insane--”

Ienzo’s heart beat harder.

“But I can’t stop thinking about it, and I wonder if it’s actually true--”

He felt almost like he couldn’t breathe, the world getting dizzy, his magic practically screaming at him to open his eyes and see what was right in front of him--

“Hey… you okay?”

Ienzo’s knees gave out, and everything went dark.

---

“...zo? Hey.”

He blinked. He was lying on the soft sand of the beach, and the right leg of his pants was awkwardly wet. “What happened?”

“You fainted. Here.” He was handed a bottle of water.

Ienzo sat up slowly. His right eye didn’t hurt, but it did feel warm, almost like it was glowing. He opened the lukewarm water and drank it.

“Sorry about your pants. I wasn’t able to fully catch you.”

“...They’ll dry.” He looked back towards the boardwalk--there were no people near them. They were almost completely alone in this strange little cove. “A… friend of mine told me a little about seekers.”

A flush brightened Demyx’s face. “What did they say?”

“He said… that you subconsciously seek out your soulmate, and when you find them, you know.” Demyx’s face was still doubled in his vision. “Is that true? Is that what you're actually seeking, not magic users to protect?"

A substantial pause. All Ienzo heard for a long moment was the waves. Then, finally, “yeah. It’s true.”

Ienzo sat up a little more. “When we…” He swallowed, and forced himself to lock eyes with him. “When we met. I felt something in my magic. I didn’t know what it was, but I wonder--”

“If we--” Demyx cut himself off. His eyes were watering.

“That wasn’t the first time we met, was it?”

“No.”

Ienzo’s heart was beating so hard. “When I was… little. My family and I took a trip to your islands. My caretaker… lost track of me, and I nearly drowned. I was saved by… something. It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” The tears ran over.

“You’re not human.”

“Not completely. But neither are you.”

Ienzo shook his head slowly. “Not completely.”

Demyx took both of his hands. “I’d forgotten it… all the way up until… you saved me from that Heartless, and then I didn’t believe it was you until…”

The pull was growing stronger. “Then what are you?” Ienzo asked.

“I guess you would call it… a siren? I guess?” He bit his lip nervously. “But we… I don’t remember how, I really don’t, but I lost the ability to change form… and one day I just washed up on the beach. I forgot who I was for years .” He took out the pendant. “And since then…”

“You’ve been looking for your history and your family.”

“And you.”

Ienzo’s breath caught.

“I know we’re… we’re basically strangers, but… I know we’re…” He swiped at his eyes. “Right? You felt it too.”

Slowly… in a state of disbelief… Ienzo nodded. The prickling feeling inside of his magic only intensified. Demyx took one hand and touched his cheek. Ienzo gasped despite himself. He’d never had these feelings… maybe there was a reason --

Demyx had said he was a siren. Maybe this was all some kind of enchanting magic he’d never experienced--

But his own energy was telling him this was all truth.

Demyx leaned in a little. How had Ienzo not noticed how he smelled before? Like ginger, and salt, and something else he had no name for. “I…” Ienzo was breathing shakily. He should’ve been embarrassed, falling apart like this. “I’ve never--”

“Would you want to?” Demyx asked gently.

“Yes.” He closed the space between them, and Demyx’s lips on his shouldn’t have felt so right . It took him a moment to learn how to do it. Those callused hands tangled in his hair, pulling him a little closer--

Another stronger, warmer wave broke over him, making the fine hairs on his arms stand up straight--

Demyx broke away first, pressing his forehead against Ienzo’s. “Your hair’s glowing again,” he said softly, pressing a kiss against Ienzo’s cheek.

The pleasure he’d found quickly shattered. “No,” he said, snapping his head around to see if there were any witnesses. “Oh--”

“No one can see us,” Demyx said. “I’m blocking you from view.”

“I just--I don’t know how much magic was released by--” He licked his lips. He could still taste him, for gods’ sake, a weirdly sweet flavor.

“I’m blocking you,” Demyx repeated.

He got it. “You can… you can do that?”

“More like…” He brushed his fingers across Ienzo’s cheek. “Distracting whoever would listen. Making them think about their dinner, or…”

“Passive,” Ienzo repeated. “What do we… what now?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t think I’d get this far.” Demyx blinked the tears out of his eyes. “I mean… I guess…”

“Get to know each other?”

He laughed a little, and Ienzo did too.

“I don’t know how I’m going to explain this,” he told Demyx. “My father… I’m not sure I fully understand what’s going on--”

“Me either.”

“I was told…” He could barely breathe. “I was told… when I didn’t understand the situation… to research. To gather data.” Demyx’s hand, against the small of his back, was so warm. His whole body felt suddenly so much more alive.

“I think I understand,” Demyx said, and kissed him again.

---

“Where have you been ?” Even’s voice was shrill, and Ienzo noted, not without worry. He was late, he knew; the sun had been down for hours. “And why are you--covered in sand ?”

Ienzo winced a little. He had a choice to make here--to lie, or tell the truth. But something this big… he had to be sure. And Even did have a nigh-bottomless knowledge of the monarchy, and Ienzo’s own magic. “I’ll… explain everything, I promise, but know I am fine . Let me clean up, and then we can…”

Even touched his shoulder. He lifted a strand of Ienzo’s hair, the tips of which were still luminous. “Oh,” he said softly. He seemed frozen; Ienzo was able to pull away with ease. Even remained there, his one hand still raised, muttering to himself.

Ienzo took a shower. His skin seemed more sensitive than before; in fact, all of his senses seemed as though a film had been peeled away. He combed his hair and looked at himself in the mirror. He took a deep breath. He put on some pajamas and rejoined Even in the parlor.

The heavy mahogany desk had been cleared off. “Up you get. Up,” Even said, steering him over. Wordlessly, Ienzo listened; the wood was cold and hard after the sand. Even forced him to lay down.

“Are you going to tell me why I was never informed about all this pairbonding nonsense?”

“Shut up ,” Even hissed. “Be still.”

Ienzo felt coldness leaching into his body, making him shudder. Even’s magic was always sharp and angular as it probed his. Finally, after what felt like a long time… the coldness dissipated. Ienzo shivered. He sat up slowly. Even was breathing hard, with an odd look on his face, as though someone had struck him. “At first I wondered… if he had placed some advanced enchantment on me,” Ienzo said. “But judging by your expression… that is not the case.”

Even seemed to be struggling. “I’d thought…” He began softly.

“You knew this was a possibility,” Ienzo said. “You knew , and you never said--” A sort of rage blotted out the coldness. “Why didn’t you--”

“It’s old magic, Ienzo,” Even said, spreading his arms. “Ancient, even.” He pressed a hand to his forehead. “It’s that boy, isn’t it? The one Aeleus mentioned… the seeker?”

“So is he my mate, or isn’t he?”

“That’s for you to determine,” he said. “You needn’t… accept this bond, Ienzo.”

Ienzo thought of that kiss, and the many that had followed, the way it all made him feel .

“In fact, if you do… you might as well send up a flare saying “here I am!””

“He blocked me.”

Even’s head snapped up.

“When we were figuring this out. His magic eclipsed mine.” He knotted his hands together. “Why did you not tell me this was a possibility?”

“Because almost all seekers are dead!” Even all but yelled. “How was I to know you’d come in contact with one, much less we’d run into him here of all places? Child, did you even know which gender you favored?”

Ienzo shook his head wearily. He was tired now. “You remember that diplomatic trip we took to Destiny Islands? When I… nearly drowned?”

Even softened. “Do I remember. It’s one of the many reasons I’m going prematurely gray. It’s due to Braig’s carelessness that you almost lost your life.”

“He wasn’t the one who saved me. Demyx was.”

“Oh…” He turned pale. “And the magic released as you struggled for your life… must’ve forged that bond.” He thought a moment, then dashed over to one of the books on a bookshelf. “No matter. I’m certain there’s a spell somewhere that could break it, and you can simply--”

“Break it?” Ienzo repeated.

“Don’t tell me you want this, Ienzo?”

Ienzo’s hand fluttered to his lip without meaning to. “Would it be so terrible?” he mumbled. “Especially… if he does have a shielding property.”

Even groaned. “Child, I know you are flush with hormones, and this magic is hard to resist, but think a moment.”

The embarrassment burned his cheeks.

“How do we know he isn’t allied with Xehanort?”

“If he spent years looking for me, do you really think he’d hurt me?”

“Does he know who you truly are?”

Ienzo said nothing.

“Exactly, Ienzo. Exactly .”

He stood. “I’m going to bed,” he said.

Even followed him. “Tell me you’re not thinking about it.”

How could he not? “I think you should allow me to make my own decisions, Even.”

“Ienzo--”

“I am very tired. Good night. ”

He tramped up the stairs, reeling. So this was… true, then. He and Demyx were… A flush came over him. Even was partially correct; ever since they’d kissed on the beach, some thing had woken up in him, something hot and wanting, something that had previously been much quieter.

Ienzo drew the blinds and lay in bed. He looked at his cell phone--messages from Demyx--

I hope you got home safe. Everything feels so much louder now… I feel so awake…

Ienzo took a quick breath. I do too.

What do you want to do?

He knew what he wanted. What he said instead was, I need to know more about you. And you need to know more about me.

Just give me a time and place.

Some place private… away from those that may listen.

Leave it to me.

Ienzo set the phone aside. He started up at the moonlight playing on the ceiling. Mate , he thought. I have a mate. Someone who knew neither of his gender nor of his heritage. Someone who might try to get away from him if he found this out.

Ienzo could tell him, gauge his reactions, and wipe his memory if need be…

He wanted to trust Demyx. If his magic could protect Ienzo… could that possibly be a way for him to finally do something about Xehanort’s forces? For him to find out more information to pass on to the resistance?

He said he’d tell Riku about the resistance… but he needed to know more about him, too. Demyx was probably a good way to find out more about all this…

That kiss…

He’d known, in an aqueous sort of way, he’d likely have to have an heir at some point, and even for him children didn’t spontaneously come out of thin air. But he’d never thought of how he’d get one, nor imagined marriage, nor even… allowed himself the possibility of fantasy, of being loved. His life was too split, always on the run. How could he settle down? He’d barely had friends, much less a boyfriend or girlfriend, much less a lover-- he had not, prior to those hours on the beach, even kissed --

Kissed, and kissed, and kissed…

He traced the material of his waistband absently. Perhaps Even was right, he had to ignore this impulse.

He felt awake, and a little less alone. Perhaps it was for this reason, but he let his hand slip below the waistband, to feel at skin he normally avoided, to stroke it gently and imagine he was not the one touching it--

He gasped, feeling it break over him, and instead of feeling shame as usual, he instead felt release, felt… hope.