#TO BRAVING THE WORLD OF LIGHT AGAIN EVEN THOUGH HE'S WEAKENED AND PAINED AND TERRIFIED OF THE LIGHT

[fourswords]

zelda and shadow in the fsa manga drive me ridiculously insane actually. the panel where shadow is kneeling on the floor and zelda is standing there looking down at him and they're SEEING each other is enough to give me fucking RABIES. LOOK AT THIS

[whos-she-never-heard-of-her]

[Warning, proceed at your own risk. This fic contains unsympathetic!patton, violence, mentions of death, and self-deprecating thoughts.]

Pretend you’re somewhere else. Somewhere nice. Somewhere that’s not here.

Janus felt Patton’s hand, cold and harsh, grab at his wrist. His fingertips kissed bruises into the skin.

No matter how many times he tried to deceive himself, he was always pulled back to reality.

Patton told him relatively the same thing every time. So why did it hurt just the same each time it happened?

"You're a disgusting creature. The others don't want to have to look at such hideous scales." Patton was smiling down at Janus, his eyes wild and unhinged. How could he enjoy saying such things? Enjoy causing Janus misery?

Janus slumped against the wall and fell to the floor, looking away from Patton. "Nobody in their right mind could love a monster like you." Patton cooed, kneeling down in front of Janus. Janus went breathless as Patton cupped his face in his hands, forcing him to look at him.

"But I've always been so generous. Kind enough to love you even with that face." Patton leaned in to kiss Janus roughly, and the dark side felt his stomach turn. He didn't love Patton. But if he played the game and stayed in line, he wouldn't get hurt.

Janus tried to muster up a smile, but he seemed to have forgotten how. It looked crooked and fake. "Thank you…"  He muttered when Patton pulled away. 

"If you didn't have me, what would you have?" Patton hummed, getting back to his feet.

Peace of mind, maybe. Patton's constant insults had worn away at him, conditioned him into a very destructive, self-hating way of thinking. His bonds with the other sides slowly weakened as he actively avoided them, wanting to spare them the discomfort of looking at such a monster.

Some days he felt so weak, so miserable, so pathetic, that he couldn't keep going. He would close his eyes and wish that he could sleep forever, if only to save himself from the pain. But he had one reason he kept going.

Oh. There it was.

The one light in his darkness.

It was tiny, small enough to be held, but far too bright and strong to ever be extinguished.

Roman.

Just one smile could melt his pain, even if it was only for a moment.

"Janny, you're on the floor again." That voice punctured his dark thoughts and pulled him back to reality. He looked around his room. Patton must have left. How long ago? He frequently lost track of time, spending the majority of it inside his own head.

Roman approached him, offering a hand to help the other up. Janus smiled. For some reason, around Roman, it was so easy to. An angel. He was an angel to him. He could let his guard down around Roman without fear of being looked down on, of being hurt. The snake took his hand and pulled himself to his feet, swaying for a moment. His legs had started to fall asleep.

"Can you look over this script I've been writing?" Roman asked, blinking down at the other innocently. 

Janus furrowed his brows. "You want me to proofread? What if I mess up?" 

Roman smiled and tilted his head. His hair was a shiny caramel hue, and looked soft to the touch. He wanted to be able to run his hands through it.

His heart clenched.

He loved him.

He loved him so much, some days it seemed he would burst at the seams.

On days he felt most broken, Roman would walk by with a smile, or ask for a hand with the dishes. The prince would frantically rant about whatever new show had become his obsession, and Janus would happily listen.

"How could you ruin it? I'm only asking for your suggestions. You're usually pretty good at spotting errors, too." The prince said, taking a seat on the edge of Janus' bed.

Janus glanced at Roman for a moment, then back at the script. "Why? Why do you hang out with me? Do you pity me?" He hated being pitied most of all. He hated being seen as the weak, pathetic thing he was.

Roman looked surprised. "It's not that at all. I hang out with you because I enjoy our time together."

Janus felt his heart in his throat. His whole body burned in a flustered heat.

"Don't I disgust you? Who could enjoy someone so hideous?"

Roman stood swiftly and reached out, clasping both of Janus' hands in his. Janus looked up at him breathlessly, eyes wide with wonder. Roman's eyes were not full of pity, or disgust, or hate. They were soft, and warm.

"Hideous? Is that how you see yourself?" Roman gave a sad smile and stroked at a patch of scales on Janus' hand.

"I don't think that you're hideous at all." 

Janus felt hot tears spilling down his cheeks. Before long, he let out a broken sob, and clung to Roman's chest, crying like a child. This was the pain he had held in for so long. The pain he hid from the others so they wouldn't pity him. The pain he hid from Roman so he wouldn't worry him.

Roman accepted him. Roman's words began to dissolve the pain Patton had caused. Roman's words lit his dark world with a flash of color, burning brighter than the sun. All he could do was cry, and all Roman could do was offer his shoulder. 

But he was always so selfish, wasn't he?

"I love you." He blurted between sobs, sniffling and choking on his tears. "I love you so much that it feels like I can't hold it all in. I want to be selfish. I want to be close to you. I…"

Roman lifted his chin and shushed the smaller male, smiling warmly. "You don't have to say another word. I love you too." 

That was why he loved him. He was so kind. Too kind. He reached out his hand to help, even if Janus had nothing to offer him. Time and time again, wordlessly, he came to his rescue, even if he hadn't known it. And he asked nothing in return.

"I can't ask you to love someone so miserable." He laughed incredulously, wiping away some tears.

Roman smiled sadly. "You're scared of being hurt. I understand. I will be patient with you. I will mend your broken pieces as well as I can." 

And just like that, Janus felt his walls come crashing down. For once, he felt human.

Having exhausted all his energy sobbing, Janus curls up on his bed. Roman strokes his hair and sings until he falls asleep. He was so happy.

Janus was jolted awake by a shove to the floor. He scrambled to turn and get up but he was kicked in the side. Janus curled his arms into his chest and strained to look up at Patton.

He’d never seen Patton so angry. It made his blood run cold. He was paralyzed with fear.

“You forgot your place again, didn’t you? You forgot that you’re nothing?” He crouched down to look at Janus with a sickening smile. “You’re so deluded. Seducing the prince like that. You have me. Are you that ungrateful? So weak you’re willing to cry to anyone?” His eyes were seething with hate. He yanked Janus to his feet by his hair and threw him into the wall.

“You promised not to disobey again. Yet here we are, Janny.” Patton had spat the nickname that Roman would so lovingly coo. It felt wrong. He wished he hadn’t heard it. He wished he could go back. If he hadn’t told Roman those things, Patton wouldn’t be so angry. He could go back to being a good boy. 

“I wish you would just die.” Patton started reaching for something in his pocket. Janus couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. He watched in horror, and Patton eagerly drank in his expression.

“Patton?” 

At the prince’s voice, Patton whirled around, his expression changing to a much more neutral one.

“Princey! What can I do for ya?” He held his hands in front of him and rocked on his heels innocently. But Roman had already seen something he couldn’t unsee. His terrified expression was a tribute to that.

“Oh...Princey...did you see something you weren’t supposed to?” Patton chuckled to himself. He had kept this part of himself from the light sides for so long.

Roman silently reached for his sword, unsheathing it, and pointing it at Patton.

“Get out.”

Patton clicked his tongue. “Roman, you don’t have to pretend you’re actually interested in this monster.”

“I said get out!” Roman thundered, pushing Patton aside tearily to kneel in front of Janus.

“Janny, baby, it’s okay. I’m here now.” He soothed, reaching out to cup Janus’ cheek. Janus looked like a shell. He had a far off stare, but the fog in his eyes slowly dissolved at Roman’s touch.

When Janus looked past Roman, he could see Patton had left. Roman was hugging onto him, his fingertips tickling the back of his neck. “I won’t let you get hurt again.”

Janus went limp in Roman's arms. "I- I didn't want you to have to see that." He sounded so hurt, so broken. He protected Roman from this for a reason.

"I'm glad I did. I don't know what would've happened if I hadn't stepped in when I did." Roman leaned in to kiss Janus' forehead, brushing some hairs back into place.

"You really do always save me." Janus mumbled. Roman looked confused for a moment, but his expression quickly changed as Janus leaned in and kissed him sweetly. Roman closed his eyes, letting out a sigh through his nose. Janus' kiss put him at ease, and calmed his frayed nerves.

"Hey." Patton's voice severed Janus' sense of calm. He watched the other standing in the doorway, his arms hanging limp at his sides. Patton had abandoned that cheery side of himself. The way he was standing- the way he was eyeing the two of them made him seem like a demon, if anything. "Who said you could take my plaything?" Patton reached into his pocket again and retrieved what looked like a butcher's knife. He pointed it straight out in front of him, right at Roman, looking as though he was measuring the shot before he would hurl the weapon at him. 

Before he could even react, Roman grabbed hold of his shoulders and pulled him through the floor, sinking out with him. When he opened his eyes, he could see he was standing in a field of flowers with the prince.

"Where...are we?" Janus looked around uneasily, as if waiting for Patton to come out at any second.

"My side of the imagination. Patton won't be able to access this place. You can breathe easy, now." The prince put on a brave face, despite how much Patton's latest appearance had shaken him up. 

Roman was hesitant to speak up. He wanted to know more about what Patton had done to Janus, but he didn't want Janus to have to be in a difficult position. Still, his curiosity prompted him. 

"How...long has he had control over you? How long has he been hurting you?" Roman turned to look at Janus, who was sitting in the grass, picking petals off a flower with a thousand-yard stare.

"Ever since Remus and I were being included with the light sides. He didn't want us to be accepted. He wanted to keep the dark and light sides separate. He called Remus and I selfish and deluded for thinking we could fit in with you all. Remus...I...envy him. He has much thicker skin. He didn't want to listen to Patton's cruel words. But I couldn't help but bend to his will. It hurt less if I did." He explained, swallowing hard. 

Roman offered Janus his hand and he took it without hesitation, getting to his feet. "His reign over you ends now. He'll be powerless if you disobey. Next time we see him, we face him together- two brave knights against an evil spirit. What say you?" 

Janus bit his lip and nodded softly. "It's...time I faced my demons. It's time I broke free of Patton." 

Roman tucked a stray curl back into place for Janus, who looked up at him, his green eyes soft and wide. "I'm so proud of you, Janny." He cooed with an easy smile. 

Janus' knees felt weak. Roman knew just how to melt him. And with the love of his life by his side, he could finally end Patton's reign of terror.

[bloodlnthemoonlight]

Fic: i love you never felt like any blessing

Another little Caryl thing I had brewing in my head that I started writing down for @equuleus86 on her birthday (sorry it's not longer, love, but I'm the slowest writer in the world.) I felt I needed to write this conversation that we're all hoping they'll eventually have. You can pretty much imagine it taking place where/whenever you like, I haven't been specific. Hope y'all like! 

***

“You fucked up.” 

The rumble of his voice breaks the terrible silence palpable in the air, and Carol finds herself very aware of the distance between them in this room where they stand; every awful inch of space. He doesn’t sound accusatory or angry, just so damn tired. 

I did this to him. The thought stabs her in the chest. 

“I know.” 

She forces the words out because Daryl deserves this acknowledgement. He deserves so much more than she can give him anymore. He deserves to take out his anger and grief on her because she is responsible, and she doesn’t know why he still refuses to say it. Why he hangs on to some misplaced sense of loyalty or obligation to her. She’s not worth it. 

“You couldn’t just leave it alone.” She can hear the bitterness now, the sadness. “Why the hell’d you even promise me anything if you were just gonna...” 

He trails off and she catches his face crumpling briefly with too much emotion before he ducks his head and hides, hair falling into his face. The movement is so characteristically him that it hits her like a gut punch, fingers itching to reach out, to soothe. He looks overcome and conflicted and lost and, God, does she empathise. All at once she wants to push him away and draw him close and never let go.  

“I meant it,” Her voice breaks and she hates how raw and vulnerable she feels. How all her defences have always been useless in the face of this man. “I promised you and I meant it when I said it. I wanted to mean it.” 

“Well, that don’t mean shit now, does it?” 

It’s not even close to the worst thing he could say to her right now, but he growls it and she can’t help it, she winces, even though he’s entirely in the right. She knows Daryl sees it because he sees everything. 

His face softens just the slightest fraction, blue eyes shining, pleading with her again, for what she isn’t sure either of them know anymore. 

He takes a step towards her, “Carol -“

“No.” And she moves back. “No, you’re right, it doesn’t. They’re dead, regardless of my intentions.” 

He draws a deep breath at that, but his gaze doesn’t break. 

“I know what it’s like, you know,” His voice is back to that soft, quiet cadence that it always takes with her, and Carol can’t bear for him to be gentle with her right now. It hurts. “To want revenge so bad that nothing else matters. Glenn died because of me -“

Denial and years-old grief rise up in her throat, “That’s not -“ 

Daryl shakes his head, “Maggie’d say otherwise but it still feels like that’s on me. I didn’t swing the bat but... “ His eyes close, brows pinched in pain, and of course he still carries that with him. Of course he does, because Carol knows so would she. Just as she knows that he would carry her pain for her like she wishes she could for him. 

Still... “It’s not the same.” She alone blew up that damn cave, ignoring this man - this good, brave, true man whom she loves - trying to be there for her. Trying desperately to talk her down. 

Carol crosses her arms, holding on to them to stop herself from walking across into Daryl’s. She knows he wouldn’t deny her. 

“We’ve all done things we wish we could take back. I know you wish you could -“

Carol crumbles. 

“Stop trying to make what I did okay! Stop being understanding! Please, just stop!” 

The last is a broken cry as she shrinks into herself, eyes squeezed shut and biting her lip against the sobs fighting to break free. The guilt feels as though it’s searing through her, eviscerating from within. All she can do is keep her arms wrapped around herself as though that might hold her together. She didn’t hear or see Daryl move, but she can feel him hovering close now. 

“It’s not okay. We lost people. Friends. But - hey... look at me?” Carol feels his fingertips brush under her chin and opens her eyes, tears spilling over, to find Daryl’s face just inches away, his face an open book for her to read, no longer hiding... “I was where you are, I was ready to do anything to take out the Saviours. The only thing that mattered more was you.” 

She feels a rush of deja vu as he cups her cheek, catching tears with his thumb, and she wants to reach for him so badly. She can feel her resolve weakening and her mind spins at his words. 

 “I - I don’t understand.” 

“Stuff happened. Doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that you matter to me. More than anything.”

“I shouldn’t -”

“Even if I can’t be that person for you. Even if I can’t be enough to stop you, to save you.” 

His voice trembles, catching in his throat, and that hurts even more than the guilt tearing through her. Daryl Dixon should never, ever think that he is not enough. 

“You are,” She sobs, “You are my person, Daryl, you’re -” everything, she should say but still can’t because he deserves so much better than her. Because she is afraid. “I’m not… I’m not worth it. I’m not good. I kill people. People die because of me!” 

He can’t die because of her. She cannot stand the thought. Everything hurts; it’s too much. 

Carol breaks out of his light grasp and turns, old habits and the instinct to flee almost driving her out the door until strong arms wrap around her from behind and Daryl pulls her back flush against his chest.  

“Don’t -” He begs roughly next to her ear, “Please don’t run again.” 

Dimly, through the rushing in her head, Carol thinks he sounds terrified; afraid, probably, that if she walks out the door he might not ever see her again. 

She wishes she could say for sure that he’d be wrong. 

“You should let me go.” She can’t stop the tears. She never could when it comes to him. Could never shut it all down and plaster on a mask because he will always see right through her. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

“You know I can’t.” As if to emphasise his words he squeezes her tighter. “You know why.”

Carol does. Deep down, she does, she just doesn’t want to face it. 

“Daryl,” she begs, unsure of what she’s even begging for anymore. 

“Fuck…” He draws a shuddering breath and she feels the pressure of his head on her shoulder, wonders if he’s hiding his face. “I love you,” He says finally, sounding wrecked and raw, and all the fight goes out of her. 

Carol lets herself fall apart, knowing that somehow, no matter what, Daryl’s arms will hold her together. 

[vagrantblvrd]

Dark Horse (1/1)

Summary: It seems there’s always a climactic battle happening these days.

Notes: For @miss-ingno​ who asked for Trevor/Gavin superpowered au and had the best idea of hero/villain with the villain going all protective Fuck You He's My Rival at the other villain about to kill the hero?? (Because yes.)

(Read on AO3)

It seems there’s always a climactic battle happening these days.

All these newcomers hoping to strut their stuff, show the world who they really are, and how does it like them now?

Long-winded monologues peppered with egomaniacal standards as though there’s a book they’ve all read, or perhaps some online course.

It’s annoying, really.

Makes a mockery of hard-working individuals like Trevor who have put their time in. Clawed their way up through the ranks, so to speak, to reach the top and in come these fresh-faced idiots bubbling over with some overrated superpower and thinking that’s all there is to this business.

No finesse to them at all, just brute force and bull in a china shop.

Smash through whatever – whoever – gets in their way and laugh about it afterward like it’s a game.

Look down on those like Trevor, the ones who favor clever plans and careful machinations and nothing about them that stands out at first glance.

Unassuming look to him, some underling that’s somehow survived his elders and betters through luck and coincidence and no real threat.

No.

Not him, or those he’s gathered close to him over the years. Equally unimpressive at first glance, dismissed as unimportant. Lesser threats, and perhaps a source of entertainment when the real threats have been dealt with?

Trevor bites back a snarl, signals Alfredo to take to the rafters as he moves on ahead.

Slips through the shadows striking from above, below, all around as Alfredo provides support for Jeremy who throws himself at the two-bit thugs guarding the building like a wrecking ball. Absorbing the force of the blows they land on him and turning it back on them with more power behind it. (Makes a note to do a proper study of it one day, discover what his limits are, if they exist. For science.)

Matt’s...somewhere.

Trevor knows he’s here, even if he claims neutrality in this constant back and forth between the heroes of this city and its villains. (Balance, delicate balance, and those who watch over it.)

There’s a pained cry ahead of him, and Trevor forces himself faster, faster as he moves past traps and devices meant to ensnare the unwary. (Foolish.)

Comes upon a set of doors and hired muscle and years of martial arts training serve him well against street brawlers and.

Imagines he feels his bones shaking as they hit the ground and a little further still, and there, there.

Familiar figure crumpled at the feet of a mountain of a man. Bright colors and blood smeared on his face and there is a raging inferno inside Trevor -

His.

- and then there’s no time to think because the man turns.

Cruel eyes set in a craggy face and it’s clear what his powers are as he thunders towards Trevor, and this time he knows he’s not imagining it when the ground shakes.

Heavy fists aimed at his head, but Trevor is faster, more agile, and avoids them.

Blocks and parries, turns aside strikes that would break bones if they landed true. Winces back from those he’s too slow to deflect, but doesn’t back down.

Watches the overwhelming confidence, arrogance, in the man’s eyes waver. Attacks wavering, weakening. Ground beneath their feet settling, until Trevor grins, smirks, and uses the man’s momentum against him. Flips him and moves back quickly as Alfredo’s shadows strike without warning to pin him to the wall, tendril wrapping around his neck when he spits foul invective.

Trevor glances behind him, sees Alfredo and Jeremy supporting Gavin between them, Matt following along behind.

An odd entourage to be sure, but this city -

Outcasts and misfits coming together how they will.

Trevor, unassuming Trevor no one looks twice at and the bonds he forms with those enough like him. Touch of bitterness, resentment to them and this refusal to abide by rules not meant for those like them.

Idiots like this would-be tyrant with their flashy powers on display for everyone to see and never, never expecting someone like Trevor.

Seems so frail, so human.

Breakable.

Smart, though.

Clever.

Realized there was something off when he was still a child. A bully with super-strength and an absence of adult authority and Trevor’s hands wrapped around thick wrists trying to pull hands away from his neck – and he did.

Slowly, slowly, but the bully weakened and Trevor could escape.

Another instance with a pyrokinetic who’d lost control of their powers and Trevor’s arms up as though

And again and again until he realized it wasn’t happenstance, wasn’t luck or coincidence.

A trip to the library and exhaustive online searches and eventually a succinct article buried deep in an archive.

Power-negation.

Dismissed as so much myth and legend. Stories bandied about by nulls to offer hope they weren’t as broken as society seemed to think they were.

A dirty little secret, people like him, and they always, always the villain of the piece.

Wave of their hand and the brave, noble hero struck helpless. A threat to those with powers, and -

There’s a history to it, reason they’re so rare these days, and oh, Trevor’s so very willing to play the role of the villain if that’s what it takes.

Gavin groans, struggling towards consciousness.

But.

Alfredo shifts, and his shadows mimic the movement, the ones looped around this would-be tyrant’s neck tightening just a little more, breath a faint wheezing thing.

“Did you really think,” Trevor says, smile a knife’s edge. He leans closer, because the sniveling weasel of a man is straining against the shadows holding him in place. “Did you really think you could get away with this?”

Trite and cliché, and oh, oh, he’s spent far too much time around Gavin and his ilk.

The heroes of this city are fools, everyone knows that.

Noble and kind-hearted to a fault, as their kind are, and so laughably short-sighted. Trip their way into traps all the time, cleverly laid out or not, and it would be amusing, if.

Trevor sighs, because the would-be tyrant looks moments from fainting out of sheer terror.

Takes a step back, allows his posture to slip back into its usual lines. Affable, approachable. Friendly smile and next-door neighbor.

And this man in front of him with all his little tricks and gimmicks and abilities watches him carefully.

Licks his lips.

Thinking, much as he’s capable.

Scheming.

Assuming once Trevor’s far enough away he can free himself, overpower them or escape to fight another day.

“Matt,” Trevor says, and there’s a quiet murmur from him as he moves away from Jeremy and Gavin.

Trevor glances at him, sees the question in his eyes, slight tilt of his head.

“Have you ever met an Architect before?” Trevor asks, turning back to the would-be tyrant. “Matter manipulators. Whatever they can imagine will become reality.”

Trevor pauses.

Leans closer as though he’s sharing a secret, just between them.

“Very powerful.”

Cosmic-level.

Almost as feared as people like Trevor. (Harder to kill.)

The man swallows nervously, eyes ticking over to Matt.

Fond of Matt as he is, Trevor knows he doesn’t inspire the sort of fear those with his powers tend to. Not what people picture when they’re told what he can do. (Great and terrible things.)

Trevor clears his throat. Smiles when the man’s eyes snap back to him.

Matt’s people are meant to be neutral parties. Observers.

But he’s so very young, Matt. Still growing into his powers and his bloodline has been muddied with filthy human DNA through his mother’s side.

An outcast in a city like this, and he’s strangely fond of Gavin, isn’t he.

Morals somewhat malleable, and Trevor would like to think he’s clever. (Enough so to make an ally of Matt instead of an enemy, unlike others he could name.)

“Would you kindly,” Trevor asks, wriggles his fingers, “do that thing you do?”

There’s all this science to it that would just go over the poor man’s head, no need to burden him with that at the moment.

So.

Matt -

“Really?” Matt asks, so long-suffering. “’Do that thing you do’?”

Trevor shrugs, takes a step, two, away from the man.

“Please?” he asks, all sweet and nice and he’ll owe Matt one once this is done.

Another sigh, and this...humming buzz through the air, faint glimmer that flares with an audible snap and then there’s a hole in reality, yea high.

Portal, really.

Pulsing darkness on the other side and creeping cold and the man makes this terrified noise, struggles to get free of Alfredo’s shadows.

It’s a good thing Gavin isn’t awake to see this, because he’d put a stop to it.

(Cruel and inhumane, and he’s the best of this city, he is.)

A look to Alfredo, and the man is hurled through the portal, agonized screaming reaching them – who can say if a human can survive there? - and in between one blink and the next the portal is gone along with the humming buzz.

There is no sense of satisfaction to this kind of thing, no.

Just -

“Trevor?”

Trevor blinks, looks over to see Gavin leaning heavily on Jeremy.

Blood in his eyes and a mess, trying to make sense of things as he looks around, mind sluggish still.

“What happened?”

Jeremy glances to the side, jaw working.

Alfredo moves to take more of Gavin’s weight and Matt remains silent. (An observer.)

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Trevor says, pitches his voice soft, soothing. Smiles. “Let’s get you fixed up first, hmm?”

Gavin’s sure to figure it out on his own, piece things together and realize what went down here. (And where was that team of his? Do-gooders all, and suspiciously absent through all of this.)

Gavin squints at him, clever, so clever, never forgets who – what – Trevor is.

“You - “

“Later,” Trevor says, fingers light on Gavin’s face as he examines a cut here, bruise there. Too many hurts to catalog just yet. “I promise.”

Gavin huffs, still so suspicious, but there is trust between them. (Hard-earned, and even more precious for it.)

“...Later,” Gavin agrees, tired and hurting, winces as he moves wrong.

Stubborn.

“Here,” Trevor says, and takes Jeremy’s place, gladly taking Gavin's weight as they make their way out of his firetrap of a building with Jeremy in the lead. “Let me.”

Gavin gives him a look, knows something is off, but unable to determine out what.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me,” he says, low, quiet. Knows the others won’t comment.

Trevor knows all too well, yes. Feels his mouth twitch up into a wry little smile.

There had been a proper fight over it, years back. Long before they moved past the roles handed to them. Before they’d reached an...understanding, and so much more besides.

“I’m aware, yes,” he agrees, hears Gavin’s soft laugh.

Makes note of the pang in his chest, cold hand wrapped tight around of his heart finally loosening its grip because Gavin is safe.

No way to know how he’ll react to Trevor’s actions, choices here tonight, but that’s a future worry. His focus is on the here and now, and one foot in front of the other.

Everything else can wait.

[averagemarvelbitch]

Adventure Time!

Summary: During a game of D&D, Peter, Ned, MJ, Harley and Cassie Lang explain to a very curious Loki what a Dungeon Master is. Intrigued by the power a DM holds, and frankly appalled that these Midgardian kids are pretending to have adventures using only a badly drawn map and some dice, Loki decides it is time to give them a real adventure.

Or: The one where the gang is sent to a made up land as their D&D characters and all hell breaks loose.

Chapters: 2/5

Read it on AO3

Tagging @supernaturalyloki and @dreamdictator

---

Peter woke up slowly, shielding his eyes from the bright sun light coming through the trees. He blinked several times with a grimace, feeling like he had the worst hangover of all time. He heard other moans of pain joining his own and looked around, finding his friends all lying on the grass, hands on their heads , looking just as confused as Peter felt. And then, after a moment, he finally noticed what they were wearing. Cassie had a hat on her head, complete with an eye patch and a trench coat that screamed ‘pirate’. MJ was at her right, wearing a long, red dress and… horns. Michele had horns. Michele was red and had horns! Peter was pretty sure he was about to have a heart attack.

“OH MY GOD!”, Harley screamed in terror.

Everyone turned abruptly to see a dragon-like person, eyes as red as blood, and a mouth full of very sharp looking teeth. They all immediately got up, stepping away from the beast with gasps and yelps of terror.

“OH MY GOD, WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FACE?”

Peter narrowed his eyes, taking one step closer to the dragon. “Harley? Is that you?”

“WHO THE HELL ELSE COULD IT BE? I’M A FUCKING DRAGON, MAN!”

“Holy crap”, Ned said softly on Peter’s left, raising his hands and looking at them in awe, “Holy crap, I’m green”.

“Ok, what the hell is going on?”, Michele asked angrily and, by god, she looked even more terrifying now than she did in her human form.

“Ok, everyone just calm down. Harley, stop screaming!”

“I’M A DRAGON! OH MY GOD, I’M AN UGLY DRAGON!”

Peter ignored his laments and turned back to the rest of the group. “Ok, it’s obvious what just happened. Loki is messing with us”.

“Makes sense”, Ned replied with a nod, “He is the god of mischief, right?”

“He is DEAD, it’s what he is! LOOK AT ME”, Harley complained, touching his gigantic dragon face with a painful moan.

“What are you guys even complaining about? This is awesome! We’re basically our characters! And I’m guessing we’re in a far away land, ready to live an adventure! This is the best day EVER!”

“Easy for YOU to say, you’re a hot pirate!”

“Own, you think I’m hot?” Cassie asked, mockingly batting her eyes at Harvey, who blushed like crazy and was ready to retort before being interrupted by Peter.

“Stop that, you two! We need to work together here to fix this mess”.

They all jumped when a sudden, very loud clap of thunder filled the clearing. Smoke appeared out of nowhere and the gang covered their eyes, coughing. Finally, the white smoke dissipated and they noticed a tall figure in the middle of it.

“Dr. Strange?”

“I am Strange, the wizard, and I have come seeking your help, young adventurers”.

They all exchanged exasperated looks.

“Ok, I’m guessing we’re gonna have to play along with we want to get out of here”, Peter whispered to the others, who nodded in agreement.

“What troubles you, wizard Strange?”, Cassie inquired in a firm voice.

“Evil has penetrated these lands…”

Harley snorted. “Penetrated”, he repeated between giggles, earning a very stern look from Michele.

“… and only you can save the people from its claws. There is a town not far from here, where you will find food, ale and shelter, but first, you must defeat the beast that guards these woods. Slay the beast and the magic that surrounds this forest shall weaken and you, my brave adventurers, will be able to continue your journey to the cursed Castle of Vania”.

It was Peter’s turn to snort, “Castle of Vania?”

“Makes sense, I showed him the Netflix series last week”, Harley added with a shrug.

“Go now, brave adventurers, and good luck. But fear not, we shall meet again”, and with another loud thunder echoing through the clearing, Strange disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

“So… Any chance Harley is the beast we have to slay?” Cassie asked while Harley threw her dirty looks.

“I’m guessing not. We should take that path; it looks strangely lit when compared to the others”.

“Alright, let’s go”.

And so, together, the group started walking towards the lit path, feeling not entirely ready for an adventure.

---

They walked for what felt like hours through the dense forest, carefully watching every step and sometimes kicking some twigs they found on the way. The forest was strangely silent, no birds singing, no animals running around the bushes, just the eerie silence that seemed to weigh on them with every step they took. Suddenly, Michele stopped and raised her finger to her lips, gesturing for the others to be quiet.

Harley snorted, “We’re not even talking”.

Everyone turned to glare at him before turning their attention back to the clanking noise ahead. The sounds were somewhat weird, like a big old rusty machine, the gang thought as they inched closer to its origin. Suddenly, they saw a clearing a few feet down from where they were, much like the one they had found themselves earlier upon waking up in this strange world. Down there, scattered on the grass, were big cages with all sorts of animals inside, with goblins patrolling the place, carrying small swords and bows.

“Holy shit, those are real life goblins!”, Cassie exclaimed excitedly.

“Shhh”, Michele replied, “they’re gonna hear you. So, what are we going to do? You think maybe they’re the evil we’re supposed to end?”

“Strange said ���the beast’, though. So goblins don’t make much sense”, Harley supplied with a shrug, “But we’re gonna have to deal with them to go forward, right? Look, there’s a path over there”, he pointed to the small pathway right across the clearing.

“Great, we’re gonna have to fight goblins!”

“I think Pete should probably go first, he has the most experience with those”, Ned said in a joking tone and then stopped, “Wait, do you still have your powers? Like, your Peter Tingle?”

“Ok, first of all, it’s called the Spider Sense. And second of all, no, I felt nothing, and I don’t have my web shooters so we’re on our own”.

“Oh no, he lost his Peter Tingle”, Harvey mocked him, making the boy glare at him.

“Guys, we’re our characters right now. So we have their powers. We use those!”

They looked at each other in awe, the information sinking in for the first time.

“Ok. Ok, but there are too many goblins down there. How can we fight them all?”

“Uh, guys…”, Harley said, with a smirk, “…In my hometown we have a song called… Far Cry 4”.

Cassie snorted loudly while Ned and Peter tried to control their laughter.

“I don’t get it”, Michele replied, confused.

“It’s a video game. He’s saying we should free the animals and let them deal with the goblins”, Peter explained.

“Cool, how are we gonna do that?”

“Pete can turn into animals! He could turn into a cat, go down there and open the cages with his tiny claws”.

Michele stared at him for a moment, “That sounds like the worst plan ever”.

“But it’s the plan we got so get going”.

Peter took a deep breath and closed his eyes. And then, after a minute, opened them again, throwing his friends a very confused look.

“How do I do it? Like, do I just think about it?”

“I guess? Yeah, try that”.

Peter closed his eyes once more and scrunched his nose in concentration. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, a small white cat was standing in the boy’s place. He looked at his own tiny paws and then shook his butt, as if preparing to jump. He meowed to the rest of the gang, ignoring their comments on how cute he looked, and turned to the clearing, going down the small hill and towards the cages with dexterity. He was careful enough to hid in the nearby bushes whenever a goblin passed by and made his way slowly to the biggest cage, where a big, brown bear sat, looking very sad. He got as close as he could, observing the bear. It had just occurred to him that, if he let the bear go, he’d probably attack not only the goblins, but his friends as well. Maybe I can talk to him?, he thought to himself.

“Uh, hello?”

The bear looked up and around, apparently searching for the origin of the voice, and finally set his big eyes on Peter, “Hello, little one. You should run before they catch you too”.

The voice sounded awfully familiar. Almost like… “Quill?!”

“That is my name, yes. What is yours?”

“Uh, it’s Pe… Eldrin. My name is Eldrin”, he introduced himself with a nod, “Listen, Quill, I have some friends over there, on top of that hill, and we’re here to free you and all the other animals. But we need your help! If I get you out of this cage, can you attack the goblins?”

Quill stared at him, turning his head slightly to the side, “That sounds scary. But I like the thought of being free again! I’ll give it a go, yes!”

Carefully as to not call attention to himself, Peter used his very sharp nail to open the lock on the cage ― something he was certain he’d never done before in his life, not even in his human form. Upon hearing the click, the bear opened the metal door with his head and roared in delight, walking out of the cage. The goblins, finally realizing what was happening, froze in fear as the gigantic bear glared at them. He huffed and roared again, and took off after the goblins, who panicked and desperately tried to get away from the huge beast.

“Ok, let’s get this party started, people!”, Harley said, watching the bear chase the goblins from a distance, before sliding down the small hill towards the mess. Ned and Cassie soon followed, while Michele, emitting a very faint red glow, floated down after them.

There were too many goblins. Even with the bear’s help, it was still a difficult battle. They fought as if they’d been using swords their whole lives, which was weird but still very awesome. The gang killed the goblins that came at them with ease. Apparently, it was much easier, morally speaking, to kill people when you knew they were just illusions created by the God of Mischief. While they fought, Peter continued his work, liberating more and more animals, including a huge goat that Ned was pretty sure was actually a horse in disguise.

“Hey, P… Uh, Eldrin! Tell the goat to hoard the goblins over there, I’ve got an idea!”, Harley shouted at Peter, using his sword to swiftly cut a goblins throat.

Peter did as he was told and very soon the animals were hoarding the remaining goblins into a corner. Harley, taking full advantage of it, put his sword back on its scabbard and turned to where the goblins were. Suddenly, smoke started to come from his nostrils and the rest of the gang watched, astonished, as he opened his mouth and fire came out of it, burning the desperate goblins until they were nothing more but a pile of ashes. Harvey turned around, looking at his friends with absolute pride in his face.

“Did you see that? I BREATH FIRE, you guys!”

The gang looked at him, completely baffled, before whooping and clapping, while Harvey took a bow. However, they were interrupted by an arrow that missed Ned’s head by an inch. Michele immediately turned to the source and raised her hand in said direction. The air around them suddenly became heavy and a smell of what they assumed was sulfur filled their noses. A red ball of light shot from Michele’s hand, hitting the goblin who had just attacked them right on the head. Everyone groaned and turned away as his head exploded in a thousand pieces.

“What? What’s happening?”  Peter asked, changing back to his human form.

“Remember when Danvers was showing us her powers and she aimed a beam at that watermelon?”

“Yes?”

“Yeah, Michele just did that with a goblin!”

“Well, it’s dead now, isn’t it? Jesus, it’s like you guys missed the frog dissecting lessons”.

“Yeah, sure, an exploding goblin head is the same thing as opening up a dead frog. Okay”, Cassie complained, looking very green.

“Well, they’re all dead now, so… Maybe we can leave the forest?”

“Wait… You guys hear that?” Ned asked, shushing his friends and stepping closer to the pathway.

A very loud, mechanical noise was coming from the next clearing. They couldn’t quite see what it was exactly, but they could tell it was big. They exchanged a worried look, thinking back on what Dr. Strange had said about some beast they were suppose to defeat, and started down the pathway, looking apprehensive. Upon reaching the end of the path, they finally saw it. A gigantic machine in the form of a beetle was standing in the middle of the clearing, blocking their way to what appeared to be the edge of the forest. The beetle turned around every so often, smoke coming out of its head, stomping its big foots on the floor.

Peter looked at the others with a grimace. “Well… Have you guys ever heard of this really old tale called ‘Empire Strikes Back’?”

—

Leave a comment and/or ask to be tagged // Feed my caffeine addiction

[aliaisonfanfiction]

Chapter 60

   “Gwendalyn, would you mind putting that cloak there into the chest?” Adlanniel asked. It had been three days since her mother had sent her letter to the prince, and now they were making their preparations for the arduous journey back to the Valley.

   “Of course, hiril vuin.” Gwendalyn smiled. The younger elleth was ecstatic that her beloved Melethril would be once more in their escort. Even though she had been against the notion due to what had happened on the previous journey, he had adamantly insisted to the king to be placed in the entourage once more. Surely the Valar would not be so cruel as to have them set upon again. Alas however, these were turbulent times.

      There was a sudden, hard rapping at the door. Adlanniel, her mother and Gwendalyn looked up at it almost collectively.

   “I have an urgent letter for the Lady Celebrian.” Said the messenger when Gwendalyn opened the door to greet him.

   She looked down at the forest green wax that sealed it. Thanking the messenger she closed the door and turned back to her superiors.

   “Lady Celebrian, an urgent letter for you from Prince Legolas.”

   Celebrian looked almost surprised, not that she had received a letter from him, but that it had arrived so quickly. Her daughter looked on curiously.

   “A reply to your previous letter, nana?” She asked.

   Celebrian nodded slowly as she continued to read. “It appears they are not as far from home as we had originally thought. He is begging us not to leave, as he will ride ahead and arrive home in five days time. Considering this letter was sent three days ago, I am assuming he will arrive here in two days.”

   Adlanniel’s eyes widened in surprise, and then her expression turned to one of panic. She almost felt herself begin to hyperventilate. Of course she wanted her prince to return, but with his return would mean the inevitable would have to come to pass. Even though she was adamant to tell him the truth, her wicked self still dreaded the notion. Her conflicted heart did not want him to have to feel the pain of what she had done. Almost inadvertently she began to pace the room, twisting her hair in her fingers till it almost broke from the tension.

   “Iellig, calm yourself.” Celebrian came to her side, and took one of her arms gently.

   Adlanniel blinked hard and stared at her, almost dazed.

   “Oh naneth…” She began to weep. “I am so scared.”

   “I know that you are, my dear child. Time heals all wounds eventually, all will shine once more within the Great Greenwood again.”

   “Do you really believe that?” Adlanniel scrutinized, then shifting her gaze to Gwendalyn.

“The truth may cause darkness for some time, but with time comes the light.” Gwendalyn replied.

   “She is right.” Celebrian agreed. “What is to come may be one of the hardest experiences you will ever have, but as with all experiences, we grow and learn from them. And through our many lessons in life, we learn not to repeat the mistakes we have made.”

   Adlanniel nodded slowly. “You are both right. I know this, I just cannot bear the thought of tearing his precious heart in two. But,” She sighed dolefully. “I have done this to him.”

   “And you are willing to take responsibility. Not everyone has the audacity to do that.” Said Gwendalyn.  

   “That is very true.” Celebrian agreed. “So many will run away from their responsibilities, which in the long term only causes more suffering if you keep holding back on telling the truth. But you are willing to face it, something that I am sure the Valar will look upon favourably.”    

   “One can only hope.” Adlanniel sighed as she looked up at the ceiling.

   Her mother rubbed her arm gently. “Sometimes hope is all we have to hold on to.”  

“Only if you could hold me, nana, when I will speak with him.” Adlanniel then sighed absentmindedly.

“I could, but someone has to hold Thranduil up as well.” Celebrian remarked. Yet, Adlanniel was able to pertain the deeper meaning of her mother’s words.

      Once her mother and her handmaiden had left to allow her rest, the sudden loneliness began to make her mind wander once more. Again and again the image of the prince’s face; aggrieved, afflicted and heartbroken, appeared to her. How could she possibly tell him the truth knowing the pain that she would ultimately cause? What if he would discredit the children? They were yet innocent and unborn and did not deserve such a terrible dishonour. How would it feel to grow with no father figure at all? Unless...no, she should not think in such a manner...What if Thranduil decided that he did want to be part of their lives? The disorder that would surely come about was unthinkable. And yet, she could not possibly blame him for wanting to be the father of his child, especially after having been denied another so long ago. The thought made her contemplate on whether or not it was what he truly felt; were he simply keeping his true feelings from her for her sake and the sake of his son?

   Weeping, she began to wander the halls aimlessly, keeping to the shadows of the pillars and nooks. She had not realised that she had wandered into the Garden of the Brook until she came across the very same tree that the Elvenking had ravaged her upon. The mixture of sensations she felt as she stood there, staring, unnerved her relentlessly. The need to feel his firm body against hers terrified her. After all that had occured in recent weeks, how could she possibly consider such a thing? But alas, the desire was there, and once more she could feel his hot breath against her neck as he thrust within her.    

   A gentle touch upon her shoulder startled her back into reality. Thranduil’s lithe fingers rested upon her, and she felt a sudden chill beneath all of her winter attire. Biting her lip she turned to look back at him. His crystalline gaze became almost desperate at such a display, for it reminded him of all the times she had done the same to arouse his desires.

   Inadvertently, he traced his thumb slowly along her bottom lip as their gaze deepened, just as he had done the first time they had found themselves within the garden.

“If only in another world…” He muttered almost to himself. Yet, no sooner did he say such words, did he withdraw his hand. “Goheno nin, hiril vuin.” His expression became dispirited.

“I feel your pain as deeply as you do now.” He wiped the tears that were trickling down her pale cheeks.

   “I am scared.” Adlanniel admitted finally, lowering her eyes in shame. “I fear the repercussions of what will happen when we tell Legolas the truth.”

   Thranduil sighed and nodded, understandingly. “But there will be graver repercussions if we do not tell him Adlanniel. Yes, life may continue on merrily as it once were for a while, but the guilt will still always be there. The desire will still always be there. You and I telling him the truth will be painful for all, but it will be the start of the healing process. And with you, and hopefully he returning to the Valley, you both can strengthen your bond and you and I can heal our own shattered hearts.”

   Sighing deeply, she nodded. “Fill the chalice of Truth. I must remind myself of that every day. Sometimes my mind wanders into the unseen and unknown.”

   “And so you must go rest. A weary mind and soul will do you no good.”

   “I doubt that it will ever change.” She replied as she turned and left to return to her room.

    Drinking some of the herbal tea her mother had left for her, she then collapsed onto her bed and fell into a deep slumber. Her dreams slipped into the lascivious; his hands were once more upon her; his kisses gliding up and over her skin as he crawled his way down her body, his tongue finding its way to her heated sex where he lapped at her deliciously.

    “Adlanniel? Adlanniel!?” A desperate voice called her. “Quickly Gwendalyn, she is burning up. Bring me some of that tea and a wet cloth.”

   “N...naneth?”

   “It is alright, pinnig, we are here.”

    “What…?”

    “You were screaming. A bad dream. Here,” Her mother lifted her head gently to offer her some of the calming tea whilst Gwendalyn wiped Adlanniel’s forehead.

    “It was a dream?” Adlanniel felt dazed.

    “A vivid one it seems.”

   “Did I....say anything...out of the ordinary?”

   Gwendalyn and Celebrian looked at each other before looking back down at Adlanniel.

   “No, not a thing.” Her mother replied calmly.

   Two days went by as swiftly as the winter winds and with the help of her mother’s herbal remedies, Adlanniel had managed to keep a relatively calm demeanor. Yet now was the day her fiance was to return home, and almost the entire palace had braved the cold and snow to turn out in the courtyard to greet their prince.

   Adlanniel took her place beside her mother and handmaiden whilst the Elvenking stood some ways from her with his butler and personal servants. Though she stole glances at his grandeur from time to time, he not once returned them or acknowledged them. It were for the best, she knew, but she could not help but feel more and more uneasy the closer she knew the prince was from home.

   Suddenly she felt a hand clasp her own, and looking to her side she saw her mother watching her. “Your beloved Greenleaf.” She reminded her gently. Adlanniel nodded and turned her gaze back towards the grand gate of the courtyard. It did not take long before the blasts of the horns began to resonate throughout the forest. Adlanniel felt her body weaken as her head swooned. The inevitable was almost upon her, and though she felt immensely overjoyed, she too felt a great and overwhelming dread.

   The great black steed cantered down past the returning battalion towards the gates of the mighty palace upon the hill. His sapphire gaze gleamed across the heads of all the elves that awaited his return until finally it fell upon the one he most longed to see. As he dismounted and made his way through the cheerful crowd, he greeted all those he could, edging his way closer and closer to his most beloved. Before he could reach her he came across his father, and greeted him warmly with his hand on his heart.

   “Ada, I am so pleased to see how well you have recovered.”

   “It is only thanks to your beloved, ion nin. Go to her, I am sure you are much eager to see her.”

   “We shall speak at length later ada.” He thanks his father before making his way over to his fiance. Formally greeting her mother, the Lady Celebrian, he turns to his beloved, tears of joy beading at his lashes. “Well, look at you! The mother to be!” He admires her ever growing bump as he places his hands gently upon it before cupping her face. “Oh how I have missed you, my darling.”

   Before Adlanniel had the chance to reply, the prince kissed her feverishly. She could feel the bile rise in her stomach from the guilt as his tongue swathed with hers.

   “Little dove, you have suddenly become cold, are you alright?” He pulled away from her with concern written upon his face. She gave a faint smile and put her hand out to the fluttering snow.

   “It is winter…” She jokes, making him chuckle softly.

   “That is true, and I apologise for having you all wait out here for me.” He looks to her mother and handmaiden apologetically.

   “We were all eager to see you, cund vuin, but indeed we must take Adlanniel inside. The cold is not good for your babies.” The lady Celebrian answers with a gentle smile. “There is a lot that the both of you, I am sure, wish to catch up on.”

     Sindarin - English

Goheno nin, hiril vuin - Forgive me, my lady

Naneth - mother

pinnig  - my child

Ada - father

Cund vuin - my prince

ion nin - my son