#also in a practical sense that's her heir until she figures out a better one and i have been playing a LOT of ck3

[potatoesandsunshine]

do you guys ever think about ruby & saccharina bc like... i'm still messed up over it

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: anything with Jiang Yanli, I’d love to see more of her PoV

part 2 of whumptober 20 (JYL/LXC field medicine)

ao3 link

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It wasn’t that Jiang Yanli never thought about other men.

After all, she was a female cultivator, and her opinion was therefore one of the ones that was rather eagerly solicited when it came to naming the most attractive young masters in the cultivation world; it was only that it had never seemed to matter. After all, she was engaged, and always had been, to her mother’s dearest friend’s only son, and that, it had seemed at the time, was that.

Oh, her father spoke warmly about marrying for love and not for obligation, but Jiang Yanli had never quite understood what he meant. Even if she didn’t love Jin Zixuan, she loved her mother enough to want to respect her wishes, and it was easy enough to dismiss what negative things she’d heard about him – arrogant, self-centered, impetuous, but of course he was still young, and weren’t most teenage boys like that? – and instead daydream about the life she would have in the future.

When she was young, it was mostly daydreams of having some faceless man (she couldn’t imagine little Jin Zixuan, who at three years younger was barely more than a baby) bring her gifts and tease her and kiss her, then say she was the prettiest person he’d ever seen. The way she’d always heard was supposed to be how lovers talked, the way people said that a marriage ought to be like - the way her parents’ marriage had never been.

When she was a bit older, her thoughts drifted away from retreading romantic stories and to the actual work of being married, of being the mistress of Lanling Jin. In the beginning, her duty would be to first and foremost produce an heir and a spare, to remain healthy throughout the process, and to support her husband as he slowly began to take on the duties that would eventually become his, but later on it would get more interesting. A sect leader could not be everywhere, and his wife would often be left in charge when he was not at home – she would have to know everything about the sect, same as him, enough to make decisions in his absence; she would have to answer correspondence, make decisions, negotiate with traders, collect duties, enforce the peace, and she’d also have to manage the sect’s social scene on top of it all.

She probably wouldn’t have much time to cook, Jiang Yanli thought wistfully, thinking about how Lanling women prided themselves on never having to lift a finger for themselves, and threw herself into her favorite hobby now, while she still could. If she was clever about it, she might be able to get good enough at it that her future husband would find some dish of hers that he liked, something that only she could make, and then her cooking would be something done at his request – a charming idiosyncrasy, an indulgence of sweethearts.

When she got older still, and learned about Sect Leader Jin’s philandering and the iron grip of control Madame Jin imposed on Lanling in order to keep her position in the face of all the backstabbing and politics, she thought to herself that that sounded exhausting. But by that point, all of her childhood daydreams had Jin Zixuan’s name on them – although admittedly not his face, for all that he had grown up into one of the most handsome young men of his generation, and certainly not his mannerisms – and it was far too late to raise a fuss now. So Jiang Yanli studied willpower in addition to trade routes, learned how to exploit social norms in addition to how to manage a dinner party, taught herself how to play people just as well as she played the guqin, absorbed the lessons of both murder and mathematics, and above all figured out how to stand up for herself and what she believed in no matter what overwhelming pressure she might face.

Even though Jiang Yanli was pretty sure that Madame Jin wouldn’t appreciate that last part in a daughter-in-law, especially not one reputed to be as easygoing as her father.

(“Let her be upset,” her own mother had snorted when Jiang Yanli had tentatively raised the issue. “Are you supposed to ruin your own future because she’s a bitter old mother-in-law that’d rather not give up control so early? I may have agreed to marry you to her son, A-Li, but she agreed to marry him to my daughter. If she wanted easy and pliable, she should have thought again.”

“But she’s your friend,” Jiang Yanli had said, frowning a little. “Don’t you want her to be happy?”

Her mother had looked tired. “Once, more than anything,” she’d said. “But the chance for that passed long ago.”)

So it wasn’t that she didn’t notice other men. It was just that there was no point in allowing herself to look, and she knew enough of her parents’ marriage, and of Madame Jin’s, to not want to look.

And then, suddenly, there was.

Her engagement was broken. One could say that it happened at her own beloved brothers’ hands, at her father’s blind dislike of arrangements even when it was one his own daughter had long ago accepted and had even learned to long for, but in truth Jin Zixuan was a proper young master, old enough to make decisions for himself, to exercise some control over his own life, and the first bit of control he’d taken into his own hands was to decide that he didn’t want her.

It was – not fine, no. She spent some time crying over it, and yet more time comforting Wei Wuxian who was distraught at having caused her pain, and the most time of all quietly wondering what the point of her existence was now that she was no longer useful as a marriage tool. She’d never been much of a cultivator, never been especially pretty, never been anything more than average – what was the point of her?

Maybe that was when she’d decided to pick up medicine.

Field medicine was womanly enough to satisfy critics, and yet it was something useful in a practical sense: she could save people’s lives, if she only learned enough, and studying she could do.

Sometimes, she even got the chance to save the lives of very attractive people, like when the First Jade of Lan lay crumpled in the cot before her as she patched him up. So this is the one they ranked first, she thought, examining him with her eyes even as she kept her hands busy, and she was forced to admit that the other female cultivators of her generation had good taste. He was devastatingly handsome.

Kind, too, she soon learned; gentle and courteous in his mannerisms. He smiled often, which she appreciated in a person (if one interpreted Jiang Cheng’s scowls as smiles, he smiled nearly as much!), and he seemed to genuinely admire her efforts at medicine, however rudimentary. Over dinner, which he insisted on sharing with her even after he was well on his road to recovery, the conversation between them flowed easily and well: they both had brothers they loved, which was a conversation topic of which neither of them would ever tire, and they both enjoyed art and music. He didn’t know the first thing about cooking, but enjoyed asking questions (especially after she’d made him a meal he particularly enjoyed, which was often), while she enjoyed the way he blushed when she teased him.

She didn’t think much of it, of course. If she couldn’t keep the husband that had been promised to her since before she could walk – if she was too dull, too plain, too weak, too average to be worthy of an untried young man like him – then she definitely had no hope of catching the most attractive and capable young master of their generation, a dashing war hero and sect leader in his own right.

And then, when they were both laughing over an especially hair-brained scheme they’d concocted to try to get Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian to spend more time together – Jiang Yanli had noticed how much Wei Wuxian talked about Lan Wangji once he’d returned to the Lotus Pier, and Lan Xichen swore up and down that Lan Wangji had been no better – he turned to her and said, “If you were in Gusu, your brothers would be sure to come to visit you.”

“Me, in Gusu?” Jiang Yanli was startled into a laugh. “Why would I be in Gusu? As your guest?”

Lan Xichen coughed. “I had been hoping for something – a bit more permanent than that. If that would be something you would be open to.”

It actually took her a moment to understand, and then she had to raise her hands to cover her suddenly burning cheeks.

“You don’t have to say anything now,” he said hastily. “Just something to think about, if you’re interested…and of course, if your heart is elsewhere –”

“It isn’t,” she blurted out, and had to turn away.

“I’d hoped that was the case,” he said quietly, his voice warm. “I’ll take my leave, Mistress Jiang.”

Jiang Yanli had grown up thinking of herself as the future mistress of Lanling Jin, with its riches and its beauty and its poisonous heart, and then she’d assumed she’d be nothing at all, an old maid that helped Jiang Cheng manage his sect until he finally found a wife to suit him.

She’d never thought about being the mistress of Gusu Lan.

Gusu Lan, which was not as wealthy as Lanling Jin but just as complex – with its own trade routes and subordinate sects and business to manage – with its beautiful and serene landscape, its culture that emphasized harmony and unity rather than backstabbing – with no overbearing mother-in-law that would have barely been tolerable even when her own mother would have been there to hold her back, but would have been impossible without such protection –

She hadn’t dreamt of Lan Xichen as a child, or even as a teenager, but when she thought about all those dreams with a faceless man that she’d named Jin Zixuan regardless of any similarity to the real thing…

Lan Xichen fit in much better to the idea in her head than the real Jin Zixuan ever had.

“I won’t live separately,” she told him when he came over the next day, before he could even say a word; it had been just about the only problem she could see with his proposal. “In another house, certainly, but not an entirely different dwelling, and if I have any children, I would want them to live with me regardless of their gender.”

“I wouldn’t dream of having you so far away,” he said, and he was smiling again, broad and bright and – somehow, impossibly – hers. “Might I kiss you?”

“You may,” she said, and he did.

“Mistress Jiang,” Lan Xichen said a moment later, “you’re the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met.”

Remarkable, Jiang Yanli thought to herself, was better than pretty any day.

[lesbiansforboromir]

I’m sorry if you’ve answered this somewhere else, but does Denethor know what his eldest is getting up to with Theodred?

And if Denethor doesn’t know, how would he react to finding out, please?

This depends upon a few things! In general I tend to go for the canon that Boromir doesn’t tell his father because he sees no reason too and Denethor doesn’t find out. Boromir and Denethor have a very paired down relationship, it revolves quite necessarily around their duties and whilst they’re both warmly dedicated too them, Boromir wouldn’t tell Denethor something if it didn’t seem necessary. There’s other stuff to it, Boromir’s generally very private, he struggles in putting himself in vulnerable positions where he’s making something ABOUT him, he doesn’t know his dad’s reaction for certain and JUST the conversation seems like a lot of risk and effort for (in his mind) not much gain.

However! I’ve also pondered a situation where Boromir as a younger and ‘still figuring it out’ 18 year old gets close to being outed. It doesn’t come to anything and he sorts it out on his own without too much fuss, but the incident makes it clear that he might not be in control of this at all times. AND if he were to be outed it would effect his ability to do his job. Which is something he SHOULD tell his dad about. 

So the conversation is very much geared as a ‘report’, after dinner one night Boromir just says ‘I actually have something else to discuss with you, if you have time tonight. Not a pressing matter but it could be important.’ And that is very normal for Boromir to say, and Denethor nods and takes him back to his office, and he asks with a little humour  "so, is this more work for you or for me?" and Boromir laughs and Denethor actually does not know anything is amiss until Boromir pauses after saying ‘I will hope it is just for me, but at the risk it comes to your desk... ‘

And Boromir just! Says ‘I am ill-fated.’ which irritates him because whilst queer communities have other names for themselves, those terms are not universally known, especially not to the general populace, so ‘ill-fated’ is all he has to describe it. And it’s not just derogatory, it’s also unspecific! Other things are called ill-fated, it is not a queer specific term. So Boromir has to clarify ‘in the ‘he is lead to the river’ sense, I have not been formally cursed.’ 

And well Boromir has to distance himself from this moment, it’s a discussion about his duties, it’s not about him, this is not vulnerable. Meanwhile Denethor (a person who only calls himself a man out of necessity not desire or comfort), with his calm and impassive expression, is wrestling down a vicious surge of protective fervour alongside 30 years of queer liberation theory. There are approximately 200 things Denethor wants to say to Boromir, but by this time he knows Boromir’s implicit request has always been to be distant. Denethor’s emotions are too heavy for his son to bear alongside the weight of duty he also carries, and Denethor has respected this need in Boromir. The absolute last thing Boromir would want is to feel like Denethor needs to protect him, that is entirely antithetical to his responsibilities. 

SO Denethor swallows down the ‘that’s my boy, that’s my son’ and the worry and the empathy and everything else, pauses a moment to try and thread the needle here, and in the end he just acknowledges what Boromir has told him, and why. ‘you tell me this as warden, as my heir, and you are wise to do so, for unfortunately, there are those who would use this to sow trouble that goes beyond you or I’ And Boromir is immediately relieved. Because that held all the information he wished to know inside it, without too much intensity. Denethor has no issue with him, Boromir’s position is unchanged, Denethor understands the situation and he is content. 

Boromir says ‘Trouble enough! I am well experienced in navigating it but I am not as blessed as Faramir and luck has toyed with me from time to time.’ and he pauses and then says, ‘I should perhaps not engage with it at all. Which I would do, if you concurred.’ And it's been hard! He's felt guilt during this exploratory phase, he never meant to make a community, he never meant to actually be invested, he needed to know the ‘issue’ enough within himself to control it. But now he's understood by a group! He has a community and he doesn't want to leave it behind, as much as he knows that would be sensible. And Denethor’s say-so would allow him to cut those ties! 

But Denethor’s composure breaks here ever so briefly as he makes this sharp halting motion with his hand. ‘No, no, do not.’ A pause and then, ‘I have every faith in you. And it is always better to have friends than not.’ And truly, it’s never been easier to see relief on his son’s face before! Usually Boromir is unreadable, even to Denethor, but just for this moment it’s almost too clear. Clear enough to see Boromir realise it himself and look uncomfortable about it. A discomfort Denethor knows how to solve, though he resents the remedy, ‘Besides, you are worth more to Gondor a whole man. Splitting yourself into pieces that way would serve no one.’

And Boromir’s smiling! He’s relieved, reassured, settled and back to being confident with this newfound purpose and logic. It WOULD serve no one, and to serve is his ultimate goal and drive. So he is satisfied. And Denethor has to accept, once again, that his son needs his joys to be of service to Gondor to entertain them. Which is gruelling! But exactly what they need! And he wishes again that Boromir were less accepting of his lot, he wishes again that Finduilas was here so that he might tell her this and hear what she would say. IT’S A LOT, but it’s very short! And really like... THATS IT. Everything continues on as it did before, exactly as it did. 

UNTIL PERHAPS... hmm... Boromir’s marriage. I think Boromir would have told Denethor about Theodred eventually. But again that joy had to be muted to be expressed and whilst Denethor was happy to hear of it, they both knew there wasn’t much to be done. Denethor welcomed Theodred warmly to Minas Tirith the few times he came and liked him more for knowing he had Boromir’s love and good opinion. 

But I DO THINK, for the actual wedding, the weight of tradition and ‘rightness’ would finally outweigh the repression. And Boromir wouldn’t have to ask Denethor to move mountains to figure out a way to properly symbolically welcome Theodred into their family. Which is a big deal!! In Gondor!!! Culturally and socially and practically! And Denethor would do his best to either attend the ceremony or craft some other small meeting. And the silk with Theodred’s blue handprint is kept safe in his desk somewhere, marking the tying of Theodred’s fate with the rivers of life of the House of Hurin. 

I GOT... carried away... and a little sleepy towards the end but I hope this is readable I read through it exactly 1 times. 

[recurring-polynya]

Hi Polynya! I’m curious and in the spirit of Ginrei’s birthday, what do you think are his opinions of Rukia and Renji separately and together?

Ha ha, this is such a simple and straightforward question and my answer is going to be so long and so complicated and have almost nothing to do with Rukia and Renji because Ginrei's feelings toward Rukia and Renji have almost nothing to do with Rukia and Renji.

So, I want to start out by saying that Ginrei is a lot like Hisana in the sense that he's a canon character, we get the idea of him and what he's there for, but there's no actual characterization of him, which gives fanfic writers a tremendous amount of leeway to do whatever they want with him. I'm not going to try to justify anything I say here, it's just my ideas and how it goes in my fanfiction. I love it whenever a writer tries to take on the Kuchiki clan and I'm always interested to see what other people's takes are, even when they vary wildly from my own.

I love the fact that "Kuchiki" means "dead tree." We meet Rukia first, and it's sort of a delightfully spoopy name, very appropriate for this salty, overdramatic, grim reaper girl, but it takes on additional meaning when we meet Byakuya, the noble and powerful scion of a dying house.

The thing that makes Ginrei interesting as a character to me is that he is the one who ruled over his house as it fell. I tend to regard filler episodes as semi-canon, so I like the idea of Kouga, even if I don't want to acknowledge the rest of the Zanpakutou Rebellion shenanigans. I think that the main line of the Kuchiki was already running a little thin, Soujun's health was a big concern, and so they marry in this guy who is a scholar and a powerful shinigami. They never say what Kouga's previous social status was, but given that they emphasize what an accomplished dude he is, I think he was chosen for his skills, not his lineage, to strengthen the Kuchiki bloodline, except it backfires. Then Soujun dies, too, a few years later.

Ginrei strikes me as the type of leader who thinks he can control everything. He manages his clan with an iron fist. He is pragmatic, not sentimental. He’s not bad or mean, but he can see that he does not have a lot of room for missteps, and he takes his role very, very seriously. Despite this, he’s lost the generation under him, and all that he has left is Byakuya. There are cousins and branch families, but to the pride of the Kuchiki is its main line, descended from great generals and heroes and the very founders of Soul Society. Byakuya, in a lot of ways, hearkens back to the great Kuchiki of old, and Ginrei sees that he has the potential to reclaim the power and glory of his house. He’s hard on Byakuya and has high expectations for him. Ginrei loved his son and he loves his grandson, but after Soujun’s death, he often wonders if he was too soft on him because of his health, if Soujun would have lived if Ginrei had just expected more of him. Byakuya is the last hope of the Kuchiki and Ginrei knows he can achieve great things, and Ginrei is determined to do everything in his power to make sure Byakuya achieves his full potential.

And some ways, Byakuya is the perfect Kuchiki. He’s strong and he’s hard-working. He’s principled. He’s working on his self-control, and he’s very good at when it comes, to say, sword practice, he’s just not so good at in when it comes to interpersonal relations, but he’s coming along. Then he meets Hisana.

Hisana is absolutely unacceptable to Ginrei. Byakuya needs a marriage with a woman with strong spiritual pressure and a noble lineage so that he can gain some alliances from the marriage and then she can pop out some strapping young heirs while also managing his social life for him, just like Ginrei’s wife did for him. Hisana obviously isn’t going to check any of these boxes.

I headcanon Byakuya as demisexual, in the sense that he doesn’t experience sexual attraction very often, and if he does, it’s only to someone he’s already got strong feelings for. He was sort of okay with the vague idea of marrying someone for the purposes of procreating until he met Hisana and realized how much that would pale in comparison to actually being married to the love of his life.

Up until this point, Byakuya has had some minor rebellions against Ginrei, but they’ve never really gone at it, but this is one time that Byakuya stands firm. Ginrei is super-pissed. He lets Byakuya marry her because he figures she’s going to die soon anyway, but he’s mad about it. He never comes around to Hisana and he’s mean to her and this is really the nadir of Byakuya and Ginrei’s relationship.

Finally, we are getting around to what you asked. Hisana dies and Ginrei softens a little toward Byakuya in his grief. He retires and turns the clan and Squad 6 over to B, hoping it will be a distraction and that Byakuya will finally turn his focus over to what matters. This seems to be going well for about one year and then BAM! Byakuya acquires an orphan.

I am guessing that Ginrei didn’t know about Byakuya’s promise to Hisana to take care of Rukia, but even so, I think if you asked him, he would have regarded Byakuya’s duty to his clan and promise to his parents as more important. It’s not that Ginrei isn’t an honorable man, it’s that his concept of honor doesn’t necessarily extend to a dead peasant in comparison the Noble and Ancient House of Kuchiki. So Byakuya adopts Rukia and Ginrei’s immediate reaction is panic. What is Byakuya doing? Is he going to marry this girl? Is he going to name her his Heir? Has he cracked? And it turns out to be none of those things, he’s just going to keep her around as this sad ghost that haunts his house, but Ginrei’s initial reaction toward Rukia is that of interloper. He thought this Hisana nonsense was overwith, but no, we’re still doing this.

When Ginrei first meets Rukia, she is in her overwhelmed, lonely stage of first becoming a Kuchiki. Ginrei also criticizes her for being small and meek and basically useless. She’s a mediocre shinigami. She’s not beautiful or talented, so Byakuya can’t even marry her off for political gain. The real issue, though is that Rukia is just emblematic of the fact that Byakuya doesn’t intend to move past his grief and remarry. He works his ass off as Captain and Clan Head, but other than that, he’s just gonna be a sad widower and sit in his big house and write letters to his dead wife and the Kuchiki are going to die off. There is really nothing Rukia could do, no way she could be different that Ginrei would approve of, because it was never really about her in the first place.

Fast forward a few years, and now we come to Renji. I also headcanon that in his retirement, Ginrei has moved out to a scenic portion of Rukongai, so he doesn’t interact with Byakuya much on a day-to-day basis, but he hears stuff through other family members that come out to visit him. He’s never actually met Renji, all he knows is that Shirogane retired, and Byakuya hired some tattooed goon from Squad 11 instead of one of the dozens of Kuchiki cousins that are lying around. In my fanfic Call Me Back When the War is Over, Byakuya explains to one of his aunts that the reason he did this was because he didn’t have a relative who was capable of passing the Lieutenant’s Exam. She replies that he just should have pulled some strings so that someone (preferably her own son) could pass, assuming it’s a mere formality. Now this is exactly what Ginrei would have done. This is a problem, though: it involves choosing sides. I’ve got the top seats of Squad 6 set up as follows:

- 3rd Seat Ohno is the Heir to the most powerful Kuchiki branch family. His father is arguably the next in line for Clan Head, based on power terms - 4th Seat Kuchiki Choei is an actual Kuchiki, but he’s a younger son and he’s a clown, meaning that he got bored standing in line for Clan Head and wandered around the corner to vape - 5th Seat Kuchiki Takehiko is the actual closest of Byakuya’s relatives to him, and is arguably the next in line for Clan Head, strictly on family line terms

Pulling strings to help any of these three become the next lieutenant would be a very political move on B’s part, tantamount to anointing his successor. Ginrei assumes that B picked an outsider for the purposes of recusing, of saying “I shall simply refuse to die and remain Clan Head myself, forever’, with the addition fuck you of picking the Actual Worst Person Byakuya Could Find for the job, instead.

This really isn’t the case at all, it is literally that Byakuya feels that you shouldn’t be a lieutenant if you can’t pass the exam. He’s basically a rule-follower, and also it’s a good rule, and also his dad died as a lieutenant and I think he thinks a lot about how that could have been avoided through actions, whereas Ginrei tends to think of it more of a thing that could have been avoided if Soujun was better.

So, that gets us up to the beginning of canon. I am (in theory) working on a fanfic that takes place in the 17-mo timeskip where Ginrei comes to visit and actually gets to know Rukia and Renji and (spoiler alert, but is anyone really surprised) he ends up liking both of them a lot. Part of it is just Ginrei has chilled out somewhat in his retirement and realized that it’s okay to have parts of your life that are not completely devoted to the Good of the Clan. Part of it is that Ginrei loves Competence and Rukia and Renji are so, so competent. Part of it is that Byakuya is obviously doing a lot better than he was, and it’s just really obvious why. Like I said, Ginrei does and always has loved Byakuya, he just wants what’s best for him. It’s just that if there is one thing Kuchiki are terrible at, it’s expressing their love for one another in a positive and healthy way.

As to Ginrei’s feelings about Renruki as a ship, he’s for it, actually. Conniving family members have been trying to marry Rukia for years in hopes of getting an in with Byakuya, and I’m sure they’re setting their sights on Renji, now, too. Ginrei likes them well enough, but he can imagine what a shitshow this could turn out to be, and he finds it very convenient if they were to just marry each other.

I’m rather fond of the idea of Byakuya appointing them as a branch family to the Kuchiki, because I’m not super keen on them going full-Kuchiki if Renji married in, but I think Byakuya would be upset if Rukia married out and he wasn’t able to provide her with the lavish lifestyle he thinks she needs (she does not). It’s a nice compromise that lets them be a part of the family, but out of the limelight. In any case, I think that was Ginrei’s idea, thanks Granddad!

[kim-miri]

HALF(have a little fun) pt. iii

→ one | two

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part three / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: drugs, blood/violence

» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!

» word count: 2,948

☾ iii.

Name: Sayomi Zoldyck 小夜美 | "小" is small | "夜" is night | "美" is beauty |

Hair color: White

Eye Color: Purple

Nen: Manipulator (same exact abilities as Illumi)

Abilities: Same as Illumi Zoldyck - Body Alteration, Hypnotic Spell, Corpse Control, Needle People, Katana

☾ iii. part iii: meteor city

Sayomi woke up with a start. 

Her violet eyes flew open as she gasped remembering the past events and how her mother had drugged her.

Attempting to rise from her less than comfortable position on the ground, a nasty stench made her cringe as she gaped at her new surroundings. 

Trash and dumped items made up the entirety of where she sat, as well as everything else she could see from her spot. Most of it was worn down enough to be unrecognizeable, only looking like jagged pieces of material building upon each other.

Standing up in one swift movement, Sayomi stretched out her tired limbs as she tried to grasp the situation she was in. Maybe mother threw me in the junkyard?

It wouldn’t be the first time her mother had tried to dump her somewhere, but Illumi or her father would usually come running for her before she would even have time to recognize her surroundings.

Taking a step forward to start exploring, she paused as she kicked something lying by her feet. 

The item stood out amongst the rust and filth, as it was immaculate and seemed to radiate a familiar aura. A katana?

Tilting her head curiously, Sayomi reached down and grabbed the sheathed weapon. It was indeed very clean and actually seemed brand new. 

Looking it up and down, a silver gleam caught her eye- it was an engraving left on the otherwise black covering. 

‘Sayomi Zoldyck’

A rush of adrenaline ran through her blood as she recognized her own name engraved on the sheath. But why would mother reward me after dumping me in this junkyard?

Thousands of questions and possible scenarios ran through her head, but she pushed them aside with a shake of her head. I might as well play with this to pass the time.

The 10 year old unsheathed her new weapon, getting ready to take a practice swing when a rolled up piece of paper dropped from the katana.

Unravelling the note, Sayomi read it contents without a moment to lose. 

Sayomi,

Welcome to Meteor City. 

I’m sure you recognize the name from the many stories I’ve told you and your brother about my hometown. 

And from those same stories, you should know that those who make it out of the city come back stronger than they’ve ever been before. 

My only daughter, you know how much I cherish you and wish to see you succeed. 

When the time is right, you will find your way back home and claim your rightful spot as heir of the family business.

Until then,

Mother

Meteor City. As the reality of her situation started to sink in, Sayomi found it hard to breath. Whether it was the anxiety starting to take over her brain, or the barely breathable, polluted air of Meteor City, she found herself falling to her knees, nauseous.

☾iii.

Sayomi was desperate. She had been walking alone for close to four hours before traces of civilization began to appear in the distance.

Her wounds were splitting open under the cloth bandages she wore, and dehydration sent black spots dancing across her vision. 

Sayomi remembered something from one of the stories her mother had once told them. It was that the citizens of Meteor City refrained from hostility between one another unless they were threatened first.

With this in mind, Sayomi continued on to the tents and vast pillars of smoke in front of her. 

Clutching her side, which was now bleeding through the wraps Illumi had given her, Sayomi spotted vague figures moving about within the camp.

The sweat dripping into her eyes didn’t help her already blurring vision as she squinted hard to try and identify the faint figures that grew larger as she approached them.

At last within modest range of the camp, one of the members turned to face her. 

One after another the citizens turned from their positions, analyzing the outcast that had stumbled upon their camp.

Struggling to remain upright with her wounds and burning lungs, Sayomi let out a cry of pain before falling to the ground once again, the jagged surface cutting into her ankles.

Several of the figures rushed towards the fallen 10 year old. With caring hands, one of the citizens lifted the girl into her arms, her lightweight figure not being a struggle to carry.

Sayomi looked up at the woman weakly, she was most likely in her 40s, her eyes gray and facial features dull.

At the same time, the woman stared back, seemingly trying to analyze Sayomi’s strong features. She recognized that her slanted violet eyes were far foreign to Meteor City, along with her intricate kimono and katana. How did a child of such status end up here?

Taking Sayomi to her own home within the camp, she treated Sayomi’s wounds and gave her water along with a small portion of food to eat.

The woman had introduced herself once Sayomi was back on her feet. Her name was Rin, and she had been living in Meteor City since she could remember. 

She introduced her husband and daughter as well. Their names being Shota and Ayame respectively. 

Ayame turned out to be two years older than Sayomi. She had ashy brown hair and gray eyes like her mother.

The rest of the community welcomed Sayomi with open arms, not bothering to ask where she came from or why she was here. It seemed they didn’t care.

Though Sayomi was grateful of their hospitality, she was homesick already. Missing the mansion where everything was familiar and made sense.

When night fell on her first day in Meteor City, Sayomi shut her eyes tight from her spot next to Ayame on the floor. It didn’t seem real to her. Just yesterday she had been with her family and everything had been as it always was.

Did everyone want her gone? Not just mother?

Thoughts like these ran through Sayomi’s fragile mind. All this stress at such a young age poisoned the girl’s mind, making her question the validity of those who loved her.

☾iii.

Much like Illumi back at the Zoldyck mansion, Sayomi spent most of her time in Meteor city training.

The environment, as well as occasional gang fights taught Sayomi real fighting, and not the guided sparring she would do back at home. 

Mirroring the techniques she had once seen while shadowing a senior assassin, Sayomi worked towards extending her abilities to mastering the katana.

Her needles remained as well, safely tucked away on a band she kept around her left thigh, hidden from others. They were a constant reminder of Illumi, her best friend and the only one she had her hopes left in to save her.

On another note, the family she stayed with was generous to point that she began to grow suspicious of their willingness to take care of her.

Hospitality was one thing, but she knew enough to recognize an odd-favored deal when she saw one.

Sayomi had been freeloading off the family, wearing the extra clothes they provided her, eating their food, drinking from their water supply, and even sleeping in their tent. 

But as wary as she was, she knew this was the only option she had. For now.

She had already stayed far from the city’s borders, and the only way off of the island in the first place was by boat. 

Sayomi would have to wait for the right time in order to escape the city alive.

☾iii.

6 years later

“Sayomi~” 

The sun rose over Meteor City, waking its inhabitants, and marking the start to another day.

Inside one of the many worn tents at the camp, a girl with tangled, brilliant white hair laid sprawled out on the cardboard-floors.

“Sayomi!” Ayame entered the tent once again, waking the girl to join her family for breakfast.

Sayomi groaned at the sunlight that entered the tent with Ayame’s return.

Sitting up, her hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, just barely touching the floor below her waist. 

Now 16 years old, Sayomi’s face had thinned out, no longer round and chubby, but firm and angular with more defined features. 

Her striking violet eyes and silky white hair were the only things that seemed to remain the same from when she was dumped 6 years ago. 

With a noticeable number of inches added to her legs and arms, as well as new subtle curves adorning her body, Sayomi had matured a great amount, both physically and mentally. What had once been an innocent, joyful 10 year old girl, was now approaching the end of her youth days trapped in a foreign city.

Sayomi didn’t talk about her family. Or the past for that much. 

She didn’t like to remember the feeling of waiting desperately for someone to find her. 

As a 10 year girl, she didn’t know any better than to rely on her family to come rescue her. But as those days turned into months, and the months turned into years, her hope had died miserably, being replaced by a deep sense of betrayal.

The most she had told the family about her life before Meteor City was about Killua. She had beamed proudly as she told them how similar they looked to each other. Killua. I wonder how he’s turned out to be. If he’s 6 years old now, that means he’s already started training...

But this was her life now, whether she liked it or not, and she would make the most of it even if it meant living only for herself.

“Sayomi! For the last time, waaake uppp. Breakfast is ready.” 

Yet another day in Meteor City began for Sayomi. After finishing up breakfast with Ayame and her parents, Sayomi grabbed her katana to go run through more forms on her own.

6 years with the katana, and Sayomi was almost considered proficient in the sword’s fine practice. Without a master to learn from, the majority of her techniques were either gathered from faint memories of when she was younger, or those she came up with herself.

She had also taken the risk of going into some of the gang fights using only her katana, and though she had gotten in dangerous situations to begin with, her hard work didn’t betray her. 

Standing in the piles of junk with her arms raised naturally behind her head, Sayomi took a deep breath in and out, ever so bored of the dull features at Meteor City.

☾iii.

After another day filled with meticulous training, Sayomi head back to camp, making her way to Ayame’s tent.

However, upon approaching the little green tent, she sensed within the air that something was off. 

She could feel the abnormally tense auras of those sitting inside the tent, much like those of someone caught lying. Slowing her steps towards the tent, Sayomi activated her zetsu in order to listen in to the apparent conversation going on inside.

“Yes, I’m sure that’s her full name. Sayomi Zoldyck. She’s the one we’ll give you instead of Ayame.”

It was Shota’s voice. 

His normally confident tone was replaced by one filled with a thousand concerns. 

“I assure you she’ll be here with us when you arrive tomorrow. Thank you again, sir, for accepting the replacement. Good Night.”

Could it be another gang looking for trouble? She was sure she could take them, whoever they were, but it still hurt to be referred to as ‘the replacement’. 

Sayomi shook her head out of such thoughts, realizing how panicked she was becoming over another silly gang. She made her presence visible once again, taking louder than normal footsteps as she returned into the tent for the night.

☾iii.

It was a quiet night much like usual, but everyone inside the tent could feel the discomfort that seemed to radiate around the 4 in endless circles.

Sayomi shifted in her sleep, unable to ignore the itching feeling in the back of her mind. 

The gangs here are nothing, I’ll be fine. 

She fell asleep late that night, despite being exhausted from a full day of training. A battle of worries and self-reassurance eventually died down in her mind, letting her sleep in peace.

Having fallen into a deep sleep, she had missed the sound of Ayame crying softly next to her. The older girl fell asleep facing away from Sayomi, feeling too guilty to even look at her.

“I’m so sorry, Sayomi.” Ayame whispered into the darkness. 

☾iii.

Early morning the next day, a commotion stirred through the camp.

The sound of multiple vehicles treading over glass and broken fragments awoke Sayomi, who sat up too quickly for her tired self.

Her body lurched to the side, thrown off balance by the sudden movement she had made to get up.

Groaning while she firmly held her balance with a single hand digging into the blankets pooled around her, Sayomi was confused to see that the tent was empty around her.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Sayomi slung her katana over her shoulder hastily before making her way outside, her left hand hovering over the needles strapped to her thigh.

It was still dark out when Sayomi lifted the entrance of the tent. Quite close to golden hour, but still dark enough for her to have to strain noteably in order to see.

The vehicles she had heard were parked about 50 feet from where she stood. There were 3 cars parked side by side, black sedans that looked much similar to the ones back at the estate. 

Upon her eyes’ adjustment to the dark, Sayomi could see several men dressed in black suits conversing with Shota and Rin, Ayame by their side.

She kept her guard up as she attempted to read the auras of the people standing in front of her, getting a faint feel for their emotions.

Ayame and her family were tense, worried, but Shota showed small signs of relief in his expression. The men in suits were less readable, their emotions hidden behind an experienced aura of composure.

Looks like they’re pretty experienced… But they don’t look like a gang, or like they’re even from around here.

Taking a risk, Sayomi edged closer to the group, trying to listen in on the conversation. She was partially concealed by a pile of junk, only peeking out once in a while to confirm their positions.

Her new spot was about 30 feet from the closest man, and she could now make out parts of their conversation.

An unfamiliar voice rumbled “Rest assured, she will be provided with more than she ever was here.”

Shota’s voice was next. “And will she be safe on the trip to Yorknew City?”

Yorknew City. So whoever these people were didn’t want to kill her, but take her with them to the great city of opportunities? Well, damn.

Sayomi stepped out from her position behind the pile, not caring to keep her guard up as she willingly presented herself to her soon to be captors.

Ayame gasped upon seeing Sayomi walk towards them with her hands relaxed behind her head. Her eyes shifted to her parents. They were just as surprised, having not noticed her presence earlier.

The men looked from the shocked family of 3 to the teen strolling towards their makeshift circle. She could sense them growing tense with each of her steps, deducing her identity as their target.

One of them finally broke the silence, acknowledging her presence. 

“Sayomi Zoldyck?”

Sayomi gave a flat-lipped smile in return. “Yes sir.”

The family was wading in embarrassment and horror, caught red-handed agreeing to sell Sayomi off.

The men scoffed at the brazen teen, preparing to catch her off guard with the proposal, but Sayomi spoke first.

“So, what I’m getting from this- is basically that… you had a deal with this family for whatever reason. And were going to take their daughter from them, but they pleaded with you and insisted that I could be a better replacement?”

Her deductive instincts had helped her reach the conclusion that was pretty much dead on.

The family remained still, averting their gazes from the teen in front of them, while the men nodded several times before speaking.

“Correct. Your arrogance will surely not be needed where we’re going, but I guess it’s alright as long as you’re able to back it up.”

Leaving no opening for Sayomi to respond, another one of the men spoke up. “Shall we get going then? It seems like force won’t be necessary, so we might as well move while everyone’s cooperating.”

Sayomi had only nodded, a slight skip in her step as she seized the opportunity to leave Meteor City at last. Whatever business awaited her ahead could be dealt with, and she found it in herself to smile as she faced the family that had supported her for the past 6 years.

“Shota, Rin, Ayame. I could never thank you enough for your generosity during these past years of mine. And so, with all due respect, please forget all about me and flourish in the love of your family once again.”

No matter how blunt, she had meant every word she said, and with that Sayomi turned her back to the people who had raised her up through her broken youth. 

She felt no remorse for their guilt-ridden feelings, for it was just another thing in the past.

The 3 cars took off through the rubble, Sayomi in the backseat of one of them. Her violet eyes reflected off the glass of the window beside her, reminding her of the first time she had arrived. She sat in silence as she watched the hell that had been Meteor City flash past her.

Old news.

Just like her family.

☾iii.

to be continued.

a/n: i made a taglist if anyone wants to join! :)))

[praetordany]

Things I Would Change if I Could Rewrite Last Jedi and Rise of Skywalker

Last Jedi

Everything is the same until Ben kills Snoke

Rey begs Ben to come with her but he refuses, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he feels he can’t leave the control of the First Order in the hands of Hux.

He helps Rey escape and tells her that he will do his best to give the Resistance time to escape.  

 Ben confronts Luke just like in the movie, but instead of fighting him out of anger, Ben and Luke pretend to fight to buy the Resistance more time.

While they are fighting, Luke apologizes to Ben for not being a better master and for giving in to his fears. He tells Ben that he doesn’t deserve to be Rey’s master and that she deserves to have someone who will train her not to fear the darkness inside her.

Finally, Luke urges Ben to finish his father’s and Ben’s grandfather’s mission to bring balance back to the Force, not by eliminating the Darkness but accepting that it is part of life.   

Luke tells Ben to pretend to kill him since his Force Ghost is fading. Luke’s body fades into the Force. 

Ben and Hux find the Resistance abandoned. Ben/Kylo pretends to be angry.  

Hux is clearly suspicious of Ben/Kylo but without proof, he is unable to confront him. 

Rey rescues the Resistance. She tells Leia that Ben saved her and the rest of the Resistance

“You saved us, Rey.”

“It wasn’t me.”

The movie ends with Snoke’s funeral. As Ben and the First Order watch his body burn, Ben takes a sigh of relief. The dark voices that have been haunting and terrorizing him since he was a child are finally gone. He slowly starts to walk back to his quarters when Palapatine’s laugh stops him in his tracks.

Rise of Skywalker

The movie opens with Finn’s and Poe’s mission on the Falcon, but it is just a supply run and there is no mention of a spy. The merchant runs up the price last minute with the reason, “Who else is going to sell to you?” Finn reluctantly pays up. (This is supposed to serve as a reminder that the Resistance is running out of allies.)

Rey is introduced mediating, but instead of trying to reach the other Jedi she is trying to reach Ben. Their force bond has been silent since Ben helped her escape.

Rey is furious that Ben is shutting her out.

Rey and Leia talk. Leia tells Rey not to worry about Ben, that he has always been able to take care of himself, even as a child. Leia tells he Ben has always been independent and that he shuts people out to protect himself.

Still angry, Rey goes to train. She angrily swings her lightsaber but freezes when she hears a man laughing through the Force, urging her to give into her rage. (It’s Palpatine, but she doesn’t know this). She accidentally drops a tree on BB-8  (Because that whole Poe/Rey interaction was gold!)

Finn and Poe still argue with Rey about how she is doing nothing but train instead of being out there fighting. She tells them that she doesn’t want to make it difficult for Ben. She didn’t want to have to put into a position again to chose between her and his mission. They make bitter comments about how if Ben is good now, why is he still attacking them. They imply that Ben is using Rey. Rey gets mad at them and walks away without answering.

Ben/Kylo and Hux are shown walking to greet a landing ship on the new First Order starbase. Hux questions Ben/Kylo about this sudden new ally. Ben/Kylo tells him that he doesn’t know more than him. 

The doors of the ship open and Sith soldiers walk out followed by a cloaked figure.

The cloaked figure walks up to Ben/Kylo and Hux. 

“It is an honor to meet the grandson of Darth Vader. I see you inherit his strength, let us hope you didn’t inherit his weakness too”

The cloaked figure pulls back his hood to reveal a young clone of Palpatine. (Played by Matt Smith)  

Rey is asleep and is awakened by a bond forming between her and Ben. Rey is excited to see Ben again but is also furious that he has been shutting her out. He apologizes and tells her that he had to. Hux had been raising questions about him and he needed to focus on playing the part of Supreme Leader. 

“So, I distract you?” 

“Very much so,” Ben slips. Rey smiles.

Ben tells Rey that she needs to focus. He tells her that Palpatine cloned himself and he just told him and Hux the location of the Resistance’s hidden base. Ben urges Rey to get the Resistance out as soon as possible since he can’t stop Hux’s attack.

Rey again begs Ben to join them, but he again refuses. He tells her that he can’t leave until Palpatine reveals his whole plan to him. They will need this information if they want to have a chance at defeating him.

Rey fully wakes up and alerts the whole base.

With the heads start, the Resistance escapes. Poe is badly injured while escaping. Rey heals him and then passes out. (Baby Yoda style).

While she is out, she is once again bonded with Ben. She sees Hux confront him about his suspicions. He tells Ben he knows he had been helping the Resistance and that he has security footage of him killing Snoke. Ben fights the Knights of Ren and almost wins until the Young Palpatine shows up and restrains him.

Palpatine uses lightning to torture Ben. Ben pleads with Rey through their bond not to try to rescue him. Rey’s bond is broken when Palpatine looks right at her as if he knows that she is there.

Rey wakes up completely panicked. She tells Finn, Poe, and Leia that Ben has been discovered and that he needs her help.

They stop her from running off to find him. They convince her that she needs to rest some more and that they will work out a plan to rescue Ben when they have the resources to do so. Leia is broken up that her son is in danger, but her practical side wins out. (Rey pretends to listen to them and then sneaks out later that night to steal a ship).

Finn, Poe, Chewie, and BB-8 are already in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon. They knew she was going to try to sneak away and reluctantly agree to help her rescue Ben because she is going to do it anyway. 

Poe tells them that he knows someone that could help them break into the First Order ship. 

They go to Kijimi and run into Lando while trying to escape some Stormtroopers. 

Chewis is captured. Rey gets upset again and uncontrollably shoots lightning while trying to rescue him. Chewie gets hit accidentally and Rey freaks out. An injured Chewie is brought aboard the First Order ship. 

Lando helps make a distraction so that Poe can lead the rest of them to Zorii Bliss and Babu Frik’s workshop. 

The meet D-O in Babu Frik’s workshop. BB-8 still heals him (Because I love that droid!) 

Zorri gives Poe the coin to get them onto the ship. Poe is not a spice runner. Instead, he used to steal from the rich and get to the poor. Robin Hood-style. Zorri was another thief who always made fun of his need to do good. 

Once onboard the First Order ship, they split up. Finn and Poe go search for Chewie while Rey tries to find Ben.

Finn and Poe find Chewie and cause a bit of trouble getting him out. This serves as enough of a distraction for Ben to free himself. (Throwback to Rey using the Force to get the Stormtroopers to free her in the first movie).

Finn and Poe rescue Chewie with help from D-O. Turns out he is a hacking droid. 

Rey’s Force sense leads her the wrong direction. She is led straight to Palpatine. He shuts the door behind her.

Palpatine reveals her past to her. He tells her that she is the daughter of one of the original Palpatine's clones that developed free will and escaped from the other clones. (The clones called each other brothers and the original Palapatine father).  Palpatine hides the fact that he had himself cloned by telling everything his wife died in childbirth. The Palpatine family was very rich and powerful on Naboo until the fall of the Empire with the death of Death Vader. Rey’s family had to go into hiding with no money or contacts because people wanted revenge on the Palpatine family.

Palpatine shows Rey a vision of her parents. Her father looks exactly like the Young Palpatine before her. Their house is attacked by a group of ex-Rebels soldiers (The combination of no longer have a war to fight, having no family to return to, and the need for revenge for everything they lost) They believe Rey’s father is a son of Palpatine. 

Rey’s father tries to hold them off while Rey’s mother escapes with her. Her father is killed.

Rey’s mother hides her on a smuggler’s ship before leading the soldiers off in the opposite direction. She is then killed.

The smuggler’s ship takes off. A man and women find Rey hidden in their cargo. They think she is an orphan or some beggar's child who threw her away. They raise her as an employee before selling her to Ukar Plutt. Rey believes they were her parents because of the memory of her parents dying was too traumatic for her young mind to remember.

Palpatine tells her that Ben knew about her past this whole time and that he purposely withheld it from her because he knew it would turn her dark.

This is where she has the vision of the dark version of herself. She sees herself become a Sith apprentice. Palpatine tells her that she cannot escape her own fate. That she will join him and that she will rule with him as his heir. 

Finn, Poe, Chewie, BB-8, and B-O get cornered by Stormtroopers. Ben rescues them. using the Force. 

“Where’s Rey?”

“We thought she was with you!” 

Chewie roars angrily in Ben’s face

“I know, Chewie.” Ben’s voice breaks.

Chewie hugs him.

“This a lovely family reunion, but in case you forgot we are still on a First Order ship about to be captured again,” mocks Poe.   

Ben reaches out to Rey to tells her that he is safe but senses her being overcome by the darkness. Rey confronts Ben about knowing about her past. He admits that he knew and tells her that he was just trying to protect her. Rey is still furious and confused. She tells him that she can’t resist the darkness. She wants revenge for what happened to her parents and for her lost childhood.

Ben tries to talk her down, but she completely freaked out.

“Rey, if there is anyone who understands the draw to the dark side It’s me. Please tell me where you are and I will help you.” 

“No one can help me.” She cuts off their bond. “I can’t fight what is inside of me. 

Rey steals a First Order ship and runs away to Ahch-To

Heartbroken Ben tells the others that Rey left without them and then helps them escape.  

D-O does more hacking to help them escape

Finn: “I like this droid!”

Ben and the gang flee to the Falcon. Poe and Ben fight over piloting the Falcon. Chewie is too injury to fly. 

“Excuse me? What do you think you are doing?”

“This is my father’s ship!”

“Didn’t you kill him?”

“Poe!” Finn looked nervously at Ben. “Not the time.”

Poe and Ben bicker back and forth while they are chased by the First Order. 

Finally Ben does a move to lose their chasers. Poe reluctantly mumbles, “Not bad.” 

Finn and Poe tell Leia that Ben is back while he waits for her on the Falcon.

Leia finds Ben still sitting at the front of the Falcon looking blankly at the controls. He is remembering all of the times his father taught him how to fly and how much he misses him.

Ben and Leia are reunited. There are tears. 

“I never gave up hope that you would return to me.”

Leia cries and hugs me. Ben shyly returns the hug. 

Ben apologizes to Leia about Han. He tells her that he wishes he could take it all back. Leia apologizes for not doing more to protect him from Snoke and for sending him away in the first place. 

Ben tells Leia about Rey. He tells her that he regrets not being fully honest with her and for pushing her away. Leia reassures him.

“Now, it’s all my fault. She’s out there all alone, and I can’t help her.”

“Sometimes, we make bad decisions when trying to protect the people we love. We act of fear instead of trust. All you can do is believe that they will have the strength to see past their own fears and return home.”

Leia formally introduces Ben to the Resistance command. Ben tells them about Palpatine's giant fleet of the planet destroyers. He also tells Finn about the other Stormtrooper who defected and where to find them. 

Finn and Rose leave to convince the ex-stormtroopers to join their cause.

Lando and Chewie still go to find more help

Leia, Ben, and Poe discuss strategy. There is interesting back and forth because Leia treats Poe more like a son then she does Ben. Ben is jealous of their close relationship.

“Your father was the jealous type too. Don’t worry, you will always be my son.”

On Ahch-to, Rey destroys her ship and is about to throw the lightsaber into the fire when Luke appears. 

Rey tells Luke that he was right about her. She can’t resist the pull to the dark side, so she must isolate herself from the people she loves so she doesn’t hurt them.

“Once again, amazing, everything you just said is completely wrong.”

Luke tells her that he was wrong about her. That she has more strength than she knows.

He tells her that she shouldn’t fear her darker self because that is what he forced Ben to do and what ultimately pushed him to Snoke. Luke tells Rey to trust her and Ben’s bond because together they form a dyad more powerful than any bond in the last century. Together they can overcome any obstacle.

Luke tells her she should want revenge for her parents’ death. But she should use that anger drive her to do better.

“Those Rebel soldiers acted out of fear. You need to do better than them and take out the forces that are really responsible.”

Luke shows her where to find Leia’s lightsaber and tells her that Ben is going to face Palpatine with or without her.

“He would probably do better with an actual weapon.”

Everything is pretty much the same as the movie. (Rey goes to face Palpatine alone. Ben still show up later and runs to rescue Rey :))

Ben gets Poe to drop him off on the planet.

“In case you forgot, you don’t have a lightsaber anymore. What are you going to do? Blast Palpatine?”

“I’ll work something out. Rey needs me.”

Leia sacrifices herself to use the Force to protect the Resistance fleet from Palpatine's lightning

There is an epic battle lightsaber battle between Ben, Rey and Young Palpatine. Palpatine uses Kylo Ren’s saber. Ben uses Leia’s saber while Rey uses Luke’s. 

When Leia’s body fades into the Force, Rey is injury but still fights.

Rey and Ben defeat Palpatine together (We are all of the Jedi)

Ben heals Rey and Rey kisses him

They go back to the Resistance basis

Rey hugs Finn and Poe. 

The movie ends with Rey and Ben going to Naboo to bury Luke’s and Leia’s lightsaber in their mother’s grave. They talk about starting a new Jedi Order that embraces a true balance between the dark and the light. They reveal their new lightsabers. Rey’s is yellow and Ben’s is purple. 

The End

[ihopuhopwehop]

Leap of Faith

AO3

Warning: Talks about blood purity.

It was the most hyped up and controversial game of the year. Slytherin versus Gryffindor. In a fight for the Quidditch Cup.

James was quite exhilarated about it all though, despite the hostility surrounding the game.

James lived for large crowds, chanting, rivalry, and winning.

He loved winning.

The feel of being revered when he made a game winning catch. Of being able to walk the halls with people congratulating him or even better, envying him.

Well, the Slytherins congratulated him. And sometimes Hufflepuffs, but Hufflepuffs congratulated both teams for the sake of sportsmanship.

The Gryffindors would envy him. For a while at least, until there was some fight between the sides, showcasing how disgusting some of his housemates truly were, and then Gryffindors didn’t envy the Slytherins anymore.

But despite all of the quidditch-induced rivalry and buzz, James was excited for the game for an entirely different reason.

 Going against Lily Evans.

 Lily Evans. Christmas on a stick. Sass level unmatched. And also, Gryffindor’s seeker.

James was the Slytherin seeker.

Which meant he’d be allowed to observe Lily Evans all game long without being scolded by his housemates.

Of course, he was always being scolded and harassed by his housemates because he thought muggleborns and half-breeds alike were worthy of life, liberty, and love. Though his house did not seem to agree.

Besides Regulus Black to some extent. Though Regulus usually sided with his family in public, James knew he did not agree with them entirely. This led to James trying to protect Regulus and lead him down a more morally powerful side, but that only worked for so long.

Regulus had gotten the dark mark, and now there was no amount of protecting James could do.

But through all of his efforts to help the younger Black heir, he befriended the older Black ex-heir. Sirius Black was good fun to be around, though he sometimes lacked ambition surrounding his studies and future achievements.

James didn’t blame him, but thought it was dumb not to at least try to get top marks and excel anywhere he could. Especially if Sirius wanted to outrun the infamy of his last name.

Oh well, at least he was noble…most of the time.

But back to Lily Evans.

James had only gotten to know Lily through Severus Snape, and as such, was skeptical of her character at first.

But when Lily Evans allowed her sass to go against her childhood friend and his beliefs, James knew she could be trusted.

He also knew she could be trusted because after the incident that caused her to end her and Snape’s friendship, she had requested a new potions partner. Slughorn had only been too happy to switch Snape with James, much to Snape’s anger and James’ joy.

Not to mention Lily’s eyes matched his house colors, which he thought made her even more likeable.

The first day they had worked together, Lily had seemed put out to be partnered with him. But after James made sure to stay on top of the potion, and even prevented a catastrophe when Lily confused two different dragon scales, she seemed to at least tolerate him.

 And then the quidditch pitch happened.

James had been on his way to practice a few extra moves before his official practice but had been prevented when he found the snitch already being used by his favorite Gryffindor. Well, besides Sirius.

Lily had been trying to practice a diving roll to catch the snitch, which was typically done if the snitch was close to the ground so that one could jump off their broom and land safely on the grass, but Evans didn’t seem to be able to truly jump off her broom.

Her bravery had been lacking that day, and his had been soaring.

He had ruffled his hair as he had begun to speak, “Quite ambitious of you to be practicing outside of your time slot, don’t you think?”

She hadn’t even batted an eye as she responded, “And quite brave to be teasing a girl who could unleash the bludgers while you’re unprepared.”

 “Touché. Now are you going to ever actually jump off your broom or continue to miss the snitch because you’re scared.”

She had now dismounted her broom and blew some of her auburn fringe out of her eyes. “If it’s so easy, then you do it Mr. Brave Slytherin.”

James smirked as he mounted his broom, “Alright. Release the snitch.”

Lily had quirked an eyebrow as she pushed the snitch forward. The snitch flittered close to James nose, enough to reflect in his glasses, and then zoomed forward and towards the ground. James leaned as far forward as he could, prompting his broom to speed up, and then at the last second, pushed off the broom with his feet and clasped the snitch safely in his palms. He completed the move with a barrel roll and a quiet “accio” to retrieve his broom, which he smugly caught when he stood up to wink at the dumbfounded girl.

“That—That was—How--”

James smirked at her floundering and ruffled his hair, “Takes resourcefulness and ambition and, something I thought Gryffindors were supposed to have in abundance, bravery.”

He inwardly grinned when her eyes narrowed, “Alright. Fine. Teach me.”

He beamed at those words.

“A Gryffindor asking a Slytherin for help. What would Godric think?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, “A Slytherin being kind, what would Salazar think?”

He chuckled and motioned towards her broom. He had her practice balancing on her feet a few times and then pushing forward with her feet as well.

That had been an awkward exercise for him as he had to stand behind her to make sure she was doing it properly. It had given him a perfect view of her in her quidditch trousers. He had to admit his chivalry was really lacking during that exercise, but he figured he retained a normal amount of it. Not everyone had Gryffindor levels of chivalry.

Finally, it was time for her to actually jump. He should not have been surprised when she achieved it on the first try, but never-the-less, he was.

“Brilliant! Good job, Evans! You’re a natural!” He may have gotten over excited and pulled her into a hug, but well, he felt pride when he was able to help a fellow student.

He remembered the way his chin had sat on her head and her head laid on his chest. It was, in his humble opinion, a good hug.

Lily had blushed at his compliment, or maybe his hug, he wasn’t sure, and told him, “Well yeah. I’ve been practicing on my own for awhile. Just had to gain a little courage and confidence.”

“Just had to use your courage and confidence. You’ve always had plenty, you just let your fears get in the way.”

She had smiled lightly at him, “You know, you’re not that bad. For a Slytherin.”

He snorted, “You’re not that bad for a Gryffindor.”

She had side-eyed him, “I assume you aren’t a blood purist? You didn’t even hesitate to hug me.”

James furrowed his brows at her, “What made you think I might be?”

She shrugged, “Everyone in your house seems to be. Wouldn’t be surprised if you were, especially since you’re a pureblood too.”

James clenched his jaw. People always assumed that about him. On one hand, he couldn’t blame her, on the other, he thought every person deserved the chance to show who they really were, regardless of house or family.

“Right. I guess you just see what you want. Wouldn’t be surprised if you thought Sirius was a purist too.”

Lily could tell she touched a nerve. She had shaken her head, “No. It’s just. We have to be cautious. Could cost me my life if I assumed you weren’t a death eater.”

James raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t thought of it from that perspective. “That makes sense. Sorry for snapping at you.”

She had seemed surprised at his apology. “It’s alright. And um, I think your team is here. I should probably go, but thanks for the help. I’ll be sure to use it when we beat you.” Then she had winked and made her way back to the castle.

James had ignored everything his teammates had said that day in favor of replaying her wink.

 After that day, Lily seemed to consider him a friend.

Lily had made it a point to keep a conversation going during potions. Had studied with him in the library. And she had even invited him to sit with her, Sirius, Remus, and Peter at the Gryffindor table. 

He thought they were getting along smashingly and hoped it would not crush their budding relationship when Slytherin won. 

 --

The game had started in a whirlwind, with the noises from the audience growing to deafening sounds and the wind beating against his face. He tried to drown it all out by focusing on searching for the snitch but when he noticed Lily flying towards him, he couldn’t help but acknowledge her.

He had begun to wave, but Lily continued straight towards him, until she was close enough to lightly shoulder check him.

He rocked a little on his broom but was able to gain enough balance to shoulder check her back.

“Better watch where you’re going Evans. Hate for you to miss when I catch the snitch.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t miss what doesn’t happen.” Then she had turned a 180 and flew towards the sky to get better optics.

They had each tailed the other a few times and yelled at fellow teammates, cheering and booing respectively when someone scored.

Slytherin was up by 120 points. Surprisingly, if James was honest. But apparently, Gryffindor’s chasers were suffering today, much to Lily’s dismay.

Malfoy had yelled at James to stop ogling Lily, though Lucius had used a word James made a point to never say.

Sirius had shot several bludgers Malfoy’s way after that, and Regulus shot a few back towards his brother, though slightly slower compared to when he aimed at other Gryffindors.

Then, James saw it. A golden glint thanks to the sun, near the Slytherin goals.

Unfortunately, Lily had seen it too, and they both shot off towards it.

Eventually, they were both right behind it, with James longer arms being closer than Lily’s. They followed it higher for a few minutes, the air getting harsher, and each of them inching closer,

 until Lily yelled a loud, “CATCH ME!”

James looked at her like she was insane, only for her to wink and jump completely off her broom, into the freezing sky.

“EVANS!!”

James abandoned his quest for the snitch and instead focused on grabbing some part of Lily Evans that had dived towards the snitch.

Gravity had barely begun to pull the absolutely mad girl down, when James finally grabbed her fanned out shirt.

He felt his arm strain and he grunted as he worked to pull her up onto his broom, “You’ll be the death of both of us Evans, I swear.” He heaved and used his other hand to support the arm that was holding Lily. 

Finally, after tremendous effort, Lily was sat behind him on his firebolt, grinning victoriously and holding the snitch up proudly.

The crowd was cheering raucously, with many people standing and whistling. The Gryffindor team was running towards the Quidditch Cup McGonagall was holding up, with Sirius hugging the usually professional woman. James noticed his teammates looking equally parts angry and shocked.

He ignored them and instead turned to Lily while he began their descent.

“You’re either certifiably insane or incredibly brave Evans, though at this point the lines are blurred.”

Lily grinned at him, “The jump wasn’t that big of a deal. But trusting a Slytherin was.”

And then she kissed him. Which was also very dangerous in the air, but James figured some things were worth the risk.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Right Hand Man (Loyal to the End) Pt. 5

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: You were like Talia’s daughter. The only thing was that you weren’t and instead, you had grown up in the foster care system and at a young age were taken by and personally trained by Talia. Along the way, you meet Damian and the two of you start to work side by side and eventually, after some time become closer and closer. However, when disaster in the league strikes, you face balancing an old, forgotten life as a normal child and the burden of right hand to the demon heir.

Note: I know that this is long and that there are a good number of time skips, but I didn’t want to make this into a series and just wanted it as a long fic because .... well because I can lol

Also, I didn’t want to have Damian so young in this so just go with it. I’m thinking maybe early 15 or almost 16 at the most. Idk I just don’t like writing for young Dami.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4812

Masterlist for Series

      You woke without an alarm with the 4am birds. It was a sound that you weren’t used to. Typically, you’d head down to one of the indoor training rooms and join Damian. It wasn’t unusual for one of you to be a few moments late but after that you’d get breakfast. This time though, you didn’t want to see Damian. You went instead out to the gardens. Instead of really working out or training, you decided that the best thing to do was just sit and meditate.

        Walking down the hallway some the opposite way of where you were going, you saw that Damian’s door was open. Wanting, to avoid him, you went out one of the side doors. He would be in the cave training for the most of what you could tell. You walked outside greeted by the morning air. It was cool outside and the birds had stopped chirping for the most part. You walked towards the sounds of the fountains along the cobblestone path. The trees and shrubs were cut perfectly in different shapes and animals in some areas. You smiled walking through it all, the moon being the only light.

        Once at the fountain, you sat down. There wasn’t really anything you were focusing on. Everything just swirled around in your mind. With no indication or signs on what was going to happen, the only thing you felt like you could do was keep on the tightrope that you had been thrown onto. The start of it all was a blurry and foggy mess. The end however, was even worse. You had no idea where this new life was going to take you or Damian. It was easier when you had an idea. That didn’t make it better.

        You were consumed in your thoughts for the longest time before getting up and walking around more. This was the longest you’d been alone to wander freely like this since God knows when. It was nice but was eventually interrupted. You turned upon sensing that someone was there. Carefully, you reached for your dagger but didn’t pull it out yet.

        “Miss Y/N, breakfast has been prepared. Miss. Gordon will be here soon to take you to the shopping mall.” Alfred said, “I hope you are not about to pull a weapon on me. I will warn you, I don’t fancy being attacked.”

        “N-no. It’s just...” You slacked a bit.

        “Training. I understand.” Alfred gave you a reassuring look, “You seem to be adjusting better than Master Damian even on your first day here.”

        “That’s because I wasn’t born in the league. This is just like some distant home to me. I was in the foster care system until Talia got me.” “I also got to go on more missions outside of the compound.” You informed the older man.

        “I see.” He sighed, “Well, I hope that you will eventually find some sort of comfort here.”

        “Thank you.”

        It was strange hearing words of good wishes. Not that you hadn’t heard them before, it was just that it was rare and typically in a secret kind of code for lack of a better term. No one dared give well wishes directly, only in little ways. You and Damian did that the most out of anyone you’d ever met. It was just normal in that sense.

        The walk back inside was quiet. Alfred informed you of a few other details that you’d need during your stay. Most had to do with the boys. He said that they would be behaved but that they can get a bit... rowdy. It was just in their nature. You understood and told yourself to expect it. Walking inside you prepared for the worst. What you did get though was a very sleep deprived looking teenage boy, a tall man who was almost zombified, you knew that was Bruce, a very chirpy young adult male with bright blue eyes, and a tall red headed girl rolling her eyes at the younger man.

        “Master Dick, Master Tim, Miss. Gordon, this is Miss Y/N. She came with Damian last night and will be staying in the manor now.” Alfred said introducing you.

        Tim looked up, “Hi Y/N.” He then proceeded to down his cup of coffee.

        “Um, hello.” You replied. It was unusual to see someone like that but you also related to his actions deeply. You thought it was kind of funny anyways.

        “Hey, I’m Dick. So, did you get here last night?” He asked smiling and said the last part quietly, “You’ll have to excuse Timmy over there, he’s a bit tired from a case he’s working on. Just wait, he’ll eventually fall asleep somewhere for a day.”

        “Yes.” You shrugged, “And I understand where Drake is coming from.”

        That made Dick chuckle, “You seem to be less temperamental than Damian.”

        Barbra hit him with her elbow some, “Really Dick?” She looked at you, “Sorry about him, he gets excited about new people.”

        “I am only the temperamental type when I need to be. Other than that, I find it partially unwise to try and scare everyone with anger. Silence works just as well for me.” You sat down at the table with breakfast.

        The meal looked like something out of heaven. It smelled fresh and looked like whoever prepared it had been doing this for a while. You took the first bite, and after that you devoured the entire meal. You then remembered that Barbra was taking you shopping and started worrying about what was going to happen.

        “So, Y/N.” She said seeing you drift off into your own thoughts, “I was thinking that it might be best if we go to the smaller shopping center first. That way you might not feel so uncomfortable there. They’ve got some things I think you might like.”

        “That sounds suitable.” You answered, “Um, I have seen the more recent fashions from previous missions, however, I’m hoping that there are still stores that carry items of reasonable value instead of ... absurdly over the top garments.” “Avant-garde if you will.”

        “Oh yes, you’ll have plenty of options.” She laughed some at the concerned look on your face, “But I agree that some people do wear some very over the top things.”

        You nodded in an understanding way noting her tone. In these cases, she probably means that the clothes are normal and what you have seen is just avant-garde clothing worn by the rich to turn heads. While you had walked by the mall countless numbers of times on missions, and even inside, there was nothing that really caught your interest. Besides, missions were never for shopping you had the job of staying on task at all times.

        “Oh, and I invited Steph but she had previous arrangements so it will just be the two of us today.” Barbra said.

        “Very well.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        You and Barbra made your way inside of the mall. It was deemed best if she was the one to drive everywhere since Alfred and the limo would draw unwanted attention. Bruce did still have to figure out how he was going to break yours and Damian’s arrival to the press. He’d probably just pull another adoption stunt in your mind. It wasn’t rare and at this point, the media just accepted that he has an obsession with it.

        The two of you made it through the parking lot and into the building, you on high alert the entire time.         “You’re tense.” Barbra commented, “I can practically feel the tension coming off of you.”

        “Unfamiliar settings may lead to all too familiar circumstances and fallouts. I find it most wise to keep on guard in a place like this. It’s open to any assortments of attacks. With the right variables, a disaster could strike at any given moment.” You replied back looking around overwhelmed at the options of stores not noticing Barbra giving an understanding yet concerned look, “I uh- where do we start?”

        “I have some suggestions. Although, I think the first store that we should try is something with a bit of variety so that you might be able to find something that you like.” She said.

        “I think I might have something in mind. Maybe something a bit dark, classical, refined, but also something that might be able to be turned down to a more casual piece.” You listed some features you were interested in with an almost inquisitive look only to meet Barbra’s eyes which portrayed an almost warm and kind look.

        “I think I know just the place.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        You and Barbra walked around the shopping mall sipping on coffee from the Starbucks and eating some of the pastries.

        “These are not too bad.” You commented speaking about the treats, “I must admit, I have never had anything quite like this before.” “It tastes...”

        “Commercial?” Barbra asked laughing some making you shrug in agreement, “There are better places we might go some time. I just figured this would be suitable for the time being.”

        “Well the decision wasn’t ill placed.”

        “Oh, we should try this store up here. Steph and I are always finding some good items here.” She commented leading you into another store.

        At this point you had almost lost track of everywhere you’d been. It was like navigating a more organized jungle. This time however, the animals were people and there was no North Star nor moss to guide your way.

        “You were talking about more classic. This place has some clothes I think you might really like.”    

        Walking in, there were rows of all sorts of clothes including fitted and paper bag pants, pencil skirts, turtle necks in some places, tweed jackets, blazers, sweatshirts, hoodies, and almost anything you could have desired. You gawked at the sight and started wandering off on your own to explore the vast new area you had found. Slowly, you took what you thought looked best and gained an eventual plethora of clothing articles before heading off into the dressing room with Barbra in close pursuit.

        “What do you think about this?” You asked stepping out in an outfit you had put together from the clothes you’d picked.

        “I like it. I like it a lot. I do think though, that we might be able to add some jewelry to spice it up a bit.” She replied, “Change back and then we can go jewelry hunting.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        Once outside of the dressing room, you and Barbra checked out and went into the jewelry store that was down the hall and across the walk way on the second floor which you were already on. You headed inside and were immediately drawn to some plated jewelry. It was simple and elegant, just what you were looking for.

        “These look nice.” You gestured to some, your own ring on your finger flashing some in the light. It was an ever so slightly worn gold ring that you wore on your right ring finger. On it had intricate braided designs and a symbol that represented an eternal bond or promise.      

        “I didn’t notice you had a ring already, it’s very beautiful. You were allowed to keep it?” Barbra questioned pointing it out.

        “Thank you. But no, actually, I’ve had this ring, and smaller versions of this ring as I grew up. They were given to Damian and I when we were young. It is a symbol of promise. I’m his right hand, I go where he goes, and stay where he stays. Think of it as a contract of sorts, or maybe even a wedding ring. It’s just a daily reminder of my place.” You explained.

        “Interesting. Was there anything you did keep or was this is?” She asked.

        “I um.” You fiddled with something around your neck, “A necklace from my parents. It’s a moon and stars, the only thing I have from before the league really. The piece was the only thing I could keep.”

        She didn’t ask any more questions, instead opting for the task of browsing for jewelry. You picked out a few pieces, some with jewels and others just plated and empty. Barbra picked up a black watch to throw into the mix saying that it goes well with everything. You didn’t really doubt her. There was no reason to thus far. Once you left the store though, the two of you started to notice shopping’s effects and how the pastries and coffee had worn off.

        “I’d say we try the restaurant down the block. It’s got some really great options and I think you might really like the burgers there.”

        “It sounds like a decent plan.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        You and Barbra walked inside of the place. Inside there were booths and tables along with a bar and waiting area. It was the run of the mill nicer business which thankfully, quickly got you seated. With drinks and even food ordered, there was a silence. It was kind of uncomfortable and awkward, you weren’t the greatest with social skills and starting conversations with new people. Damian wasn’t either which made it so easy to be around him. Well, at least when you weren’t fighting. You sighed thinking about it.

        “You’ve got that look on your face.” Barbra noted making you snap out of your thoughts.

        “Look?”

        “I know that you have just arrived and have much on your mind, however, you have that “boy issue” look plastered all over your face.” “Did something happen between you and Damian?”

        You weighed your options. Typically, these things worked themselves out. Damian wouldn’t be able to be rid of you unless he killed you and that would breach one of the highest codes of honor in the league. Typically though, these arguments were stupid or at least simpler like too many missions or being hurt on the field. This time, his grandfather had died as a result.

        You huffed some and took a deep breath, “Damian and I were in an argument last night because of my mission. I have been assigned since day one a location and route that would take him to Gotham in case something like what did happen, happened. For years, I’ve trained for this like some prepare for Armageddon. However, Ra’s al Ghul died in the battle. He blames himself mostly but also claims I have some part in it. Although, I think he might have changed that outlook since the fight last night.”

        Barbra looked shocked at what you told her, “Ra’s al Ghul is dead?”

        “Correct.” You answered grimly, “Heavy arrow fire took him.” “And, you don’t have to give your condolences, I know of what has happened at his hands and how that is viewed.”

        She nodded, “So you and Damian have just been avoiding each other all morning hoping that this all blows over?”

        “Precisely.” You sighed, “I for one know that this might never be worked out if there isn’t a final confrontation on the matter at hand however, I’m not quite sure how to approach that.”

        “Well from what I’ve seen, it might be best to just be straight forward with him. Letting this drag on and on isn’t going to solve anything whatsoever.”

        “I would have to agree with you Gordon. You have my appreciation.”

        “It’s no problem.” She smiled some.

        “I do have one concern and the only reason I’m mentioning it is because I trust my instincts and they tell me you can be trusted.” You said.

        “That is?”

        “How, how are we supposed to adjust to a different culture, life, policies, and circumstances in a matter of a few weeks. I mean I assume that Bruce will introduce us to the public and then with the blink of an eye, we’ll be out in public being swarmed by the media. I worry about Damian’s more impulsive and temperamental behavior with the newer surroundings and how he will cope. I think it will be difficult for the both of us to start abiding to certain ... rules if you know what I mean.”

        Barbra didn’t comment for a few seconds and instead took what you were saying all in.

        “I cannot say that I understand your position. I can say though, that I think that you of all people are more than capable of doing this. From what I have seen, you know what is best for the two of you and will stick to those beliefs, you’ve got the mindset of a fighter and strategist. Whether it be training or even turning away from some of it, I think you will find a way to adjust. And I know that it’s hard to trust people at first. That part I understand, however if you need anything, Alfred and I are always there.” She explained carefully almost washing away all of your fears.

        “Thank you.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        You and Barbra were back at the manor now. Alfred had taken your new clothes for cleaning and you had your new room decorations and jewelry to put into place. You didn’t get many things seeing as the room already decently matched what you felt most comfortable with, however you were not going to protest against a few touches of your own.

        Once upstairs, you closed the door and got your new record player set up. Picking one that looked the most suitable and got to work making things as you pleased. You hadn’t noticed how much the time had passed before there was a knock at your door. You turned the music off and opened it to reveal Alfred with an assortment of clothes on hangers and another stack of freshly pressed and folded clothes.

        “I have your new garments ready to be put away.” He informed you.

        “Thank you, I can put them away myself.”

        “It is no problem Miss. L/N.” He handed you the clothes, “Dinner shall be ready at 6pm sharp.”

        “I understand.”

        Once he had left, you closed the door only and started putting items away only for another knock to interrupt you once more.

        “Yes?” You opened the door again, “Oh... hello demon.”

        “General- L/N, I wanted to talk to you about last night.” He said almost sheepishly.

        “Very well. You may enter.” You closed the door behind him, not wanting anyone else to hear the conversation.

        “I must apologize, my actions of last night were impulsive and guided by misjudgment from the events that have taken place prior to now.” Damian sat at your bed as you were still putting away clothes in the closet, “I stepped out of my place questioning your choices because I did not know under the circumstances they were made.” “You did nothing wrong.”

        “I accept your apology Damian.” You said making him almost sigh in relief, “I understand where the outburst came from.” “As cheesy as it might sound, I have thought over what happened last night.” You went and sat down at the end of the bed and looked him in the eyes, “The only thing we can really do now is stick together. We have no one else here that knows about where we came from and the worst choice we can make for ourselves in splitting apart. Especially over a recent quarrel or smaller dispute.”

        “I agree.”

        There was a small passing of silence, “Just promise me that you will try everything you can to make adjusting as easy as it can be on yourself. It will be a challenge, but you don’t have to do it alone. We’re both in the same boat on this one Damian.”

        “I promise, just as you have done so many other times before.”

        There was a small ringing from the phone you had gotten at the mall.

        “That means it is time for dinner.” You got up and turned off the alarm quickly before walking towards the door, “After supper I expect to see you for some sparring?”

        “I will be there.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        You and Damian were sitting next to each other at the dinner table. It was awkward and quite for some time, no one really wanting to bring any conversation up.

        “So how did you feel about Gotham Y/N?” Bruce asked you trying to start some sort of conversation.

        “It was fine.” You replied, “it’s comparable to a darker version of Chicago with a hint of New York.”         “When did you go to either one of those cities?” Dick asked inhaling his food.

        “I went to Chicago on a mission a year ago and New York three years ago.” You replied, “It was only for two nights at maximum.” “The people are strange though.”

        Your comment made everyone either smirk or chuckle which lightened the mood a bit. You could tell that Damian was uncomfortable in this newer situation however. He wasn’t one for talking to those if he wasn’t bragging about something. You never commented on it while he was doing it, only glaring some to get your message across to him. He’d typically get to a stopping place but on the rare occasions he wouldn’t, you’d actively end the conversation or bite your tongue to keep from saying anything regretful.

        “I took Y/N to that joint near the mall you told me to go to Bruce. It was good.” Barbra commented.

        “Agreed.” You responded, “We also picked up a great plethora of items from the shopping center. Thank you for letting me go. It is greatly appreciated.”

        “You are most welcome Y/N.” Bruce replied with a look of approval showing on his face, “And Damian, because you have opted not to go out with one of the boys, Alfred has had a selection of items delivered to the manor. They should have arrived already.”

        “Yes, they did father.” Damian said quickly, giving you a slight glance.

Damian’s POV:

        You seemed to be adjusting well. It was typical of you to take what you understood of your circumstances and adapt so quickly. You were just like that. He’d always admired it but right now, it was strange seeing you as the best adapted like you were. The strange distant feeling of seeing you not in armor or commanding a squad got to Damian. New surroundings like this were uncomfortable and unpredictable. He watched you fake your every move like it was nothing, the way that you carefully examined everything around you intrigued him. Then again, you were doing too well. He knew you were covering something. Old habits, old nightmares along as new ones, new yet familiar styles in the way you dressed, he saw your walls hold higher, most of the ones you “dropped” were mere props in the way you played. You’d always said life was a game or a gamble anyways, you just had to know how to play it.

        The conversations at the table were forced. At the Leauge, typically there were either no conversations, or they were over missions and training. Though, it’s not like he really enjoyed any of it to begin with. He reached over just enough so that no one would noticed and lightly tapped your leg.

        “most forced conversation I’ve had.” He tapped in a shorter way of speech than typical with Morse code.

        “same.” You answered back quickly, “wonder how long we’ll be here.”

        “hours.”

        “very funny demon.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Your POV:

        Damian was right, it did feel like hours. You didn’t really know when it was alright to leave, so you stayed until Bruce left. He was sitting at the head of the table, so he was in control of when you could leave. At least, that was how it was when you were raised in the foster care system. Damian left when you did and you both got suited up for sparring. You two met up outside of your own rooms when you were done, swords, daggers, and armor in all. If someone wasn’t familiar with the situation, they would have thought you were coming from a dress up party or cosplaying in some sense. That would have been insulting to you if you didn’t care about keeping your cover.

        “Woah there kiddoes, where are you two heading dressed like that?” Dick asked coming down the hallway.

        “Daily sparring.” You answered sharply.

        “With all of that?” Steph chose to comment as well.

        “Correct.” You continued, “They are merely swords and a few items of weaponry, nothing that should be too out of the ordinary seeing as you have the regular superhumans or even super heroes coming in and out regularly.”

        Dick nodded and let you two through after Steph got him to stop pestering you two with questions. You and Damian exchanged looks of distaste in regards to your interaction. Rolling your eyes, you continued, eventually making it to the cave. Once on the mat, you started training. There was no conversation at first. There didn’t need to be. You’d always thought that if there was no room for conversation, there was no need to squeeze it in. If conversation wanted to add more space, it would naturally.

        “So, how are you?” You asked, “Adjusting wise.”

        Damian looked around some before responding to make sure no one was there, “I am doing as well as I can be. I find that we are being underworked in responsibilities however. It’s boring here.” “You seem to be adjusting well.”

        “In standards of not beheading the shrubbery,” You smirked at the glare he gave you, “I’m... just testing the waters at this point.” “It feels strange not having a squad to command, I don’t like it that much but it is what it is.”

        You didn’t reveal everything or really anything close to the most. What you were supposed to do anyways? It’s not like you were going to reveal all of your struggles in one training session. You weren’t ready or willing to do that anytime soon. Deep down though, everything felt wrong. Not having your position anymore was just the surface of your issues. The constant urge to pull yourself back into your old habits was overwhelming. At a strange noise, you found yourself reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. When someone tried to talk to you, you immediately put even more walls up trying to figure out what they wanted to really know. You needed action and something to focus on besides keeping up some imagine like you always did. At night or in the moments you were alone, the constant shadow of your former self was there to greet you like a figment of your worst flashbacks. You knew exactly what was wrong, you just didn’t know how to express it because of the quantity in which your problems amounted in. So, for now, you’d keep it to yourself.

        “Understandable.” He said pinning you down to the mat.

        You went to flip him over and then stopped in mid motion where he didn’t hesitate to take you down before standing up.

        “That was far below your own expectations for yourself in combat Y/N.” He said offering a hand up.

        You felt your fight or flight mode kick in the moment everything happened thinking back to the arrows falling from the sky. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself of where you were. There were no arrows flying. No screaming from those around you. You looked around to reassure yourself before hearing someone come up silently from behind you.

        “Hey love birds.” Dick said loudly walking up behind you.

        You felt him go for a pat on the back. Clearly, he was just being stupid for the time being but you could control what you did. Taking the man by the wrist, you used all of your force and some of his own weight against him to slam him over you onto the mat. The rush of adrenaline faded when you saw who it was laying on the mat groaning in pain.

        “Holy shit.” He mumbled.

        Damian’s jaw dropped to the floor seeing you pull something like that. You snapped out of your temporary trance and immediately extended your hand to help him up.

        “M-my apologies. I mistook you for someo-“

        He stopped you, “No it’s fine. Should’ve known not to do anything too sudden like that.” Dick looked at you for a second, “You put up a fight Y/N. Although, I wouldn’t expect anything less from a high general.”

        You sighed some at the comment, “Thank you. I must be leaving now.”

        The two watched you swiftly head up the stairs. You made sure to travel through the manor as quietly and quickly as possible. The last thing you needed was for anyone to try to touch or talk to you. Once you made it to your bedroom, you immediately grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the shower. A hot shower was the only thing you thought would help. At least, that’s what you were hoping.

Tag List-

@idkmanicantenglish​ @queengeorgiaaa​ @lucy-roo​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget

[liesfallaciesfabrications]

Mr. Queen Analysis

My take on the rather heartbreaking and vague ending of the KDrama, Mr. Queen.

  Okay, I’ve been thinking long and hard on this subject (way too much) and have come to the following consensus:

Bong-Hwan and So Yong are both versions of the same soul. What got me thinking about this was that scene in episode 5 where SoBong talks about original and past lives but then mentions parallel time-streams. To illustrate, she draws two lines running side by side and explains how a past life can be in one and the original/current being in the other. This had me stumped a bit, and I thought it a bit random that they put that in there, but then I looked up “reincarnation and parallel lives” and there’s a surprising number of articles on it - though obviously not conclusive or scientific as it involves spirituality. 

Episode 5 also explains why time in the present is flowing at the same rate as the past, which we discovered when BH’s consciousness briefly reentered his body and explain why they chose to reveal that fact. Time isn’t linear here but more fluid with both versions existing simultaneously - harkening back to the two lines Mr. Queen drew to illustrate.

The reincarnation theory would explain many of the elements of the story that I found hard to accept. For example:

If So Yong’s separate soul was in there with Bong Hwan’s soul then why did he never feel her? In fact, the show repeatedly makes reference to the idea that Bong Hwan does not feel another soul and attributes characteristics of SY to the body (telling her after the kiss that the soul is in control of the body so she ought to behave and in another scene he tries to get her soul to return by addressing the lake - where he believes she is hiding).  The only time he accuses her of being a separate entity inside of him is when he wants an excuse for his feelings and reactions to CJ. The “it must have been her that took control. If I knew it was CJ I would have....still enjoyed it?!? What’s wrong with me?” moments. LOL What if the reason he couldn’t feel another presence was because there wasn’t another? He merely had his consciousness wake up in the body of his past life but didn’t realize it.

It would explain the gradual integration of both personalities. For example, when CJ returns the book to Mr. Queen, she never thinks of herself as NOT being the girl from the well as she did when he first confesses his love for her at the lake. As BH spends more time in her previous body, the lines become more blurred not just in memory but also in identity because he IS her. If they were two separate souls, I don’t think she would have that same reaction nor do I see anything to indicate that So Yong “took over” in that moment or any other. Memories were accessed, personality traits were mingling, but we saw SY come out in episode 20...that personality was immediately recognizable. Fantastic acting by SHS - especially as she had me loving the one and hating the other, despite being both.

It would explain why Mr. Queen falls for CJ so hard, despite his initial protests. I never liked the idea of his feelings being manipulated, but I can get on board with the idea that he accepts his feelings for CJ because this is a man that some part of him has always loved - and falls in love with “again” through their shared experiences and journey.

It would also explain the question of why Bong Hwan. What was the connection between this man and So Yong? They are reincarnations of each other. When So Yong was feeling hopeless and needed strength, she pulled upon her stronger version of herself to help her - made possible in that moment when she desperately wanted to give up on life and he desperately wanted to live. She came to him in that pool and appeared to the queen again when she was looking for answers in the lake. This does not give the impression of a soul cruelly imprisoned in her own body against her will. 

It would also explain why, when Bong Hwan briefly went back to his body, So Yong did not reappear. She wasn’t being suppressed. She purposefully had her reincarnated self come to give her strength and was not ready at that time to assume her life again. I found her choice of words at Byeong-In’s grave to to be telling. She said he always knew where to find her whenever she was hiding. It’s also why I believe BI didn’t realize Mr. Queen wasn’t SY - for the same reason CJ doesn’t at the end of the drama. These two men, both of whom deeply love her, could sense it was her, just in reverse order. CJ-SB-SY and BI-SY-SB.

It would also solve the pesky issue of why BH is an overall better person - not just at the moment of his return but before. Someone on Reddit mentioned the implausibility of CJ’s political accomplishments causing a ripple effect to change BH, and I agree. However, if we look at BH as SY’s reincarnation, then the positive attributes he now displays in the altered timeline can be accounted for because he prevented his previous incarnation from killing herself, therefore in his next lifetime his soul didn’t carry those grudges. This fits with the idea of reincarnation as a person’s life experiences and emotions/grudges/regrets/mindset at death will determine the psychological and even physical manifestation of their next life. 

SY was told by evil Kim that she had no power b/c she was a woman - next life is a man. 

SY had her love cruelly rejected - next life is a playboy who doesn’t seem to believe in love. 

SY felt that she was living a lie - next life is a man who doesn’t care who he offends with his opinion and does what he wants when he wants - to the point of selfishness - though this changes when he prevents many of these resentments by his actions in the past. 

Finally, it would explain why CJ is so “oblivious” at end of the show. He promised when he returned the book to SB that he would never fail to recognize her, and he doesn’t. While her personality has changed, it’s intrinsically also the same person, though this is the area I felt the writers dropped the ball in execution, but I get that they were pressed for time. The implications of this aspect also seem to be what KJH meant in his comment to a fan’s question of whether the king knew that BH had left.That it didn’t matter: SY or BH didn’t matter, only how CJ saw her.

So why send BH back? I believe they did it because it wouldn't make sense for him to live a life he essentially already lived as SY. Reincarnation is meant to be for a soul to grow and spiritually evolve, which it could not do by simply repeating what it had already done. Also, for some reason (I suspect so as not to offend Koreans by skipping over one of the most prominent historical figures in their culture - Queen Min), they still have CJ dying at age 32. This can be seen in the book BH is looking at when he's seeing his portrait, and is mentioned as early as episode 1. This was never going to be a happy ending for CJ/BH in the sense that many viewers wanted. Rather, he was going to facilitate the relationship of SY/CJ so that his previous life could run its course...ugh, I feel sick typing that out...with the hope that they meet again in another lifetime. Our SB is many things but trapped in Joseon without modern medicine, a miracle worker she is not. CJ dies without any heirs; his baby with the queen dies at just six months. If the BH decided to stay for love and then lost the baby and CJ, that would be just as heartbreaking for me as the ending I received. 

Wiki and other sources speculate the CJ was poisoned by the Andong Kims, but many historians (including Bong Hwan’s mother, it seems) dispute that fact as it would serve no purpose since he was a puppet king and since his death then allowed the Jo family to briefly take control until King Gojong’s father pretty much crushed both the Kims and the Jos. In reality, he probably died of unhealthy habits and a life of excess. In the show’s world, who knows...cancer or any number of possible illnesses that could not be treated at that time. During the banquet planning, we see CJ suffer a nosebleed. In the spinoff, Mr. Queen mentions how CJ is trying hard not to collapse from the strain of his burdens. These could be hints left by writers to indicate that CJ’s health has been compromised by the grueling struggles and stress he’s had to endure, not to mention allowing himself to get blown up.

They writers did give us the hope for another reunion - perhaps in BH’s lifetime or perhaps another one. It’s why I think they tried to imply a SY/CJ connection in the Bamboo Forest prequel (the only prequel in the spinoff) as well as end Bamboo Forest with a reincarnation wish. The setup seemed quite intentional and in specific order. The prequel created a sense of destiny. The next segment was about Mr. Queen confirming if it was just his body or his soul that was attracted to CJ...literally the words out of the character’s mouth...and they gave an answer to that with the last shot. The final segment introduced the wish for CJ to meet his queen again, and he is clearly thinking of Mr. Queen - so why the prequel, which would seem to introduce a separate love interest, unless it’s actually not because they’re one and the same with the middle segment emphasizing the genuine attraction and love for each other.

This might not be everyone’s cup of tea; it certainly wasn’t mine, and I think the writers should have handled the leaving better instead of going for an quasi mind-wipe of all the characters’ remembrances of Mr. Queen. I mean, CJ went from being horrified at Mr. Queen acting like a perfect little queen for a few seconds a mere handful of episodes ago to just asking "why the formality" at a more permanent display of temperament and seemed practically oblivious otherwise. Then Choi and Yeon were "shocked" when So Yong didn't revert to her witch of the palace act and chastise the maids that were laughing by the pond - as if Mr. Queen didn't already change that way of thinking months ago. Not to mention that they were also nonplussed by the fact that their relationship to the queen had gone from being regarded as family back to a servant/master status quo. Even with the soulmate angle, there was to much deus ex machina thrown in. The idea of soul mates is a romantic one, but the execution of it fell through.

They should have never gone with the reincarnation route, especially if they were never intending to let SY have a true voice in the drama, even if it’s just a final conversation between herself and BH before he leaves, made possible in that split second before true separation. Viewers never got to bond with her, and in those moments we did see her, she was either a watered down version of the personality we were emotionally invested in or emphasized the opposite characteristics (demure, feminine, etc...) that we loved Mr. Queen for rejecting. Also, this angle gives us no true feeling of completeness and satisfaction. SY is with CJ in the past - we won't see them develop their feelings for each other and grow to like them as a couple. BH is in the present but who knows if he'll find CJ's reborn soul and happiness with whoever it is. Promises without fulfillment demand too much from the audience to fill in the blanks. If that's the case, next time just give us a tag line and tell the audience to imagine the rest.

Even if they share the same soul, we are given two distinct personalities and not enough connection between them in terms of their recognizing each other, acknowledging their feelings for CJ to each other in some sort of passing the flame moment that would make it feel more homogeneous and prevent feelings of resentment at what we perceive as an injustice to a personality we adore.

Instead of creating an emotional divide between the two, they should have just have SY die before BH's soul enters, and develop the romance between CJ and HB's as the novel and even that cheap and campy Chinese version did. Having SY there just muddied the waters, and became a distraction and an excuse for every emotional milestone Mr. Queen experienced, negating that character's development and laying it at SY's feet or claims of deliberate interference.

They should have chosen a fictional king and not boxed themselves into a limited outcome. Granted, it gave them a valid reason for booting BH back to present times, but look at the result: limited number of years with someone the audience isn't really familiar with for our beloved ML (plus their baby dies) and a huge question mark for our F-turned back into ML in the present with the hope that maybe the reincarnation thing works in his favor but who knows because they couldn't even toss us that small crumb which would have alleviated some of our heartache for BH as well as give more credence to the fact that SY/BH are the same and thereby lessened the feelings of resentment to the SY character as well. Or they could have gone with a multiverse theory and left it wide open as to what sweeping changes would occur. BH being initially thrown back to the Joseon era as a result of his dying would have achieved that because then the audience would have no reason to revisit the present nor see that the worlds were linked via changes upon his return and stuck with the poisoning threat averted. Blow recorded history to smithereens and leave that to our imagination instead.

Yes, the fish-out-of-water hijinks were great fun, but the completion of the character arcs/relationship/etc...shouldn’t be an afterthought. 

The other element I would have liked to have seen that was in neither of the televised versions (though the Chinese one came very, very close) but was in the web novel is the king fully accepting that his wife is not the woman she was, believing that her previous body was a man, falling in love regardless and she with him. However, I think we all knew that wasn’t going to happen in a kdrama. 

[mka1098]

I Ask For Your Hand In Marriage - A PJO Fanfic

A Percy Jackson Royal AU Fanfiction 

Description: Percy is a prince, Annabeth is a royal overseer and they both are idiots who don’t realize they are in love. 

Hear it read aloud here ! - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LY0R0M8ZiE&t=17s 

Chapter One

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…” 

In fact, Percy was not doing ‘nothing’. He was basically planking on a wooden stool; he had stolen it from the kitchens. “This  isn’t nothing.” Annabeth said with a pointed tone. Percy looked at her with big innocent seal eyes. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

 Technically, he wasn’t. He was just laying on the wooden stool, swimming in the air like a normal person. Because normal people did that right? Yeahh… they totally did. 

“Where on earth did you get that?” She asked, walking over to him and crossing her arms. Her eyes were on the stool and Percy smirked up at her.

 “Oh this old thing? It’s always been here; nice to see you taking note in my decorations.” He said sarcastically. 

Annabeth frowned. “Why is this in your room.” She said tiredly. She muttered, ``I'm so tired of this, under her breath. Percy ignored it.

 “Kitchens. I wanted to teach the kids how to swim but since they have to stay by their parents, it has to be in the air. And I’ve never swam in the air so I’m practicing.” He explained.

 The corner of Annabeth’s lips raised; she was holding back a smile. “You’re a dork.” She said affectionately. Percy practically flopped around the stool; his abs were hurting from trying to stay up.

 “I’m doing good.” Percy defended himself. Annabeth ruffled his hair, making it more messy than it already was. 

“You’re always trying too.” She said with a smile. “But get up, you have other duties to perform; those that pertain to more than just the children in the kitchens.” Annabeth dragged him up and off of the stool by the front of his sleep shirt. 

“Awww.” He whined but stood up straight, reveling in the visible cringe on Annabeth's face as he stood taller than her. 

“Get that smirk off your face and get dressed. We’re meeting with the King and Queen.” Annabeth said, picking up the stool to probably go put it back. 

Percy rolled his eyes. “Those are my parents. They’ve seen me as a naked baby. I don’t think they care about me in Pjs.” He said snarkily. Annabeth narrowed her grey eyes at him. 

“It’s good to get ready anyways.” She told him, pinching the fabric of his seas themed fleece PJ pants. 

Percy stuck his tongue out at her. “Just for you.” Percy said sassily, tearing off his shirt and shrugging on a ‘nicer’ sweatshirt. It was nicer because unlike the former, it had no holes in it. Annabeth scoffed and turned around to leave the room. 

“You don’t wanna be here when I change into jeans?” Percy called after her with a devilish laugh. 

”You wish, Jackson.” Annabeth threw behind her shoulder.

Percy chuckled to himself. Not only was Annabeth his best friend, but she was also his royal overseer; it was an uproar when they announced it. The past 3 kings had the same royal overseer so it had been a shock to everyone when a randam, non-noble teenage girl had been chosen by the crown prince to take that role. But truly, she was the best option. 

For one, Percy did not listen to anyone but Annabeth. There was no way even wise old Chiron could get him to follow the old traditions that he needed too. Annabeth was able to make Percy begrudgingly put on the formal suits and perform speeches. Not only that, she was responsible, smart and organized; all things a royal overseer needed to be. Percy was so happy to have her in his life. She was the best friend ever; she dealt with him and organized everything. And she was funny and caring and never let him get away with being an idiot. They had been friends for years, 12 to be exact. Annabeth knew him better than he knew himself. 

“That took far too long.” Annabeth deadpanned when Percy stepped out of his bedroom. He stuck his tongue out at her, as all adults do. 

“No big deal.” He said, throwing an arm around Annabeth's shoulders. She shoved it off with a frown. 

“You should still look your best and be on time. Nevermind the fact that they are your parents.” She chastised. 

Percy rolled his eyes but didn’t object or talk back. “Good morning!’ He chimed to the staff; they smiled widely and greeted him with optimistic remarks. Percy had always made it a goal to make all the staff feel welcome and seen. Maybe times in the past, they were regarded as tools and Percy resented that past. 

“I overheard your father has a huge proclamation for you.” One of the staff members said with a smirk.

 Percy tilted his head to the side? “Really? They just said they wanna talk to me.” He thought out loud. 

The staff member sent him a tense smile. “Hopefully you don’t mind his proclamation.” Percy’s eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. What? Why wouldn’t he like what his father had to say? At most, it would be oh add this class to your studies, retake this class, help the general with his plans, do more royal duties. He looked over to Annabeth who was scribbling in her journal; it held all her secrets, tasks and everything. He knew this because he had stolen it once and got judo flipped in return. 

“Do you know anything?” He asked curiously. She looked up to him. “No idea.” She said drily. 

Percy couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. Either way, he had no time to figure it out because Annabeth had pushed open the throne room doors. “Ah, you’re up.” His father said with mirth in his eyes. Percy rolled his eyes like an angsty teenager. 

“No, dad I’m sleepwalking.” He replied. His father turned to his mother. 

“He gets the sass from you.” Poseidon said. 

Sally laughed. “Don’t act like you didn't contribute.” She said in a sing-song voice. Poseidon ignored that. 

“My king and queen.” Annabeth said solemnly, bowing her head

. The entire family rolled their eyes; it was ridiculous that Annabeth still felt as if she needed to bow to them or say your highness. She had practically grown up running around their halls and spoke casually to Percy. Despite all their efforts, she always used royalty manners. Poseidon cleared his throat and looked at Percy.

 “Son.” He said curtly. “Father.” Percy replied with snark; Poseidon stifled a laugh. “You are 18 now. You are an adult-” The king started. Annabeth snorted halfway through muttering, I beg to differ, your highness. Snickering, he continued. “You are going to begin to take more pressing and complex royal duties when you are 25. Starting now as a legal adult, it is important you begin to take on roles for the public to see.” Percy nodded. His parents exchanged a look. “You must find a queen.”

Percy stumbled backwards… what? He needed to what? “Now?” Percy asked in an incredulous manner. He was met with serious nods and stares. “Why now?” He practically whined. 

Percy knew he was being a brat but… they telling him he needed to find the person he’d rule next to, have children with and spend the rest of his life with… now. At age 18! He couldn’t even figure out his favorite movie, much less his permanently future wife. 

“Perseus, you of all people know how difficult it is for power exchanges to occur. Especially for Princesses from outer and different kingdom. They are deliberate and must take time. Lot’s of time, as we must start now. You need a queen. Our subjects must not be led to believe you’re underqualified to be their king.” Poseidon said strictly. He was definitely thinking of the gossiping nobles. 

Percy sighed but nodded. “I get that.” He moped. His father nodded. “But why do I need to find a queen now? I’m not taking the throne for years, I don’t need to have an heir anytime soon.” He protested.

 This time, his mother spoke. “Percy, when you start managing all of your royal duties, you work in tandem with your future queen. It wouldn’t make sense to leave that space blank. A new king and queen won’t be able to handle an entire kingdom. You need to begin your interlocking duties in the next year, so that by the time you ascent; it’s as if you’ve been ruling for years. We can’t just thrust a new queen in the middle of that entire complicated and delicate situation. Your queen will be giving her input on most all of the pressing situations and you’ll have to work on covering each other's biases. You can’t do it all alone.” Sally said with a gentle smile. 

Still Percy frowned. 

“Can’t Annabeth take over the queen’s duties and input for the time being? I don’t want to rush a relationship. She already knows what to do. She knows me well and can cover the biases or my weak areas. The royal overseer already performs duties like this. We can do it until I find a queen.” Percy tried to convince his parents but they shook their heads. 

“No, Percy. That could cause a slew of drama. You’re not going to want that and nor will your future queen.” The king said. 

“She’s my best friend and she’s fit for the role!” Percy objected. 

This time, Annabeth told him to hush. “The future queen must never be a person to be deliberated over. She must be certain. Listen to what your father is saying, there was already an uproar when I became your overseer; I do not want to even imagine the outcome of me taking on queenly duties without taking that title in the future. And more so importantly than gossip… you must marry someone of Royal status. It would be beneficial for our kingdom to have another truce. No royal-blooded Princess would want a husband who has his ‘best friend’ take over her royal duties. Must less, a commoner.” Annabeth said firmly. 

The king nodded in agreement. Percy sighed in defeat. “I don’t like this. But fine. What am I even supposed to do though?” He asked. 

Sally smiled at Annabeth. “Annabeth has lovingly and painstakingly created a plan to help you.” Percy snorted. When did she not have a plan? “She has a list of Princesses from good reputation kingdoms and has invited them to spend a day with you.” Percy sputtered. 

“Whoa so this is like speed dating or something?” 

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot. It’s not speed dating; who do you think I am? Each week, you will meet with one Princess for a day. If you find that you’re extremely compatible with one of them; she will be your queen.” Annabeth explained, shoving her blonde curls behind her ears.

 Percy made a silent O with his mouth. Seaweed brain, she mouthed at him. “I’d say even though it’s rather untraditional; it is a plan that has a high probability of working.” His father said.

 Annabeth nodded. “It was created with Percy in mind, your highness. Which I will admit made it difficult.” She said with a smirk. Percy squawked offendedly. “And we thank you for the plan, Annabeth dear.” His mother said kindly.

 “No one else knows him well enough.” The blonde smiled politely and bowed her head. “That is all. You two can brief on it if you’d like.” Poseidon said. Percy left after telling his parents `I love you` and kissing his mother’s cheek; Annabeth bowed, said `thank you, my king and queen` and followed Percy out the door.

That’s Chapter One! I just had an idea and ran with it. 

[chemicalmagecraft]

A Black Wind Howls Chapter 5: Winter Solstice Part Two

Previously on Avatar...

The fireballs tore through the smoke cloud, but the Black Wind was nowhere to be found.

"He's invisible!" Zhao shouted.

"What was that about you killing us?" he asked the black-clad man before kicking him into unconsciousness, then grinned.

The door suddenly creaked shut. When everyone looked at it they saw a rather short old woman with long white hair appear with her hand on the white lotus design in the middle of the door, as if out of thin air.

"Bending is connection to an element," Dorji said, her hands on Appa's reins. She held her hand out to a passing cloud, causing a miniature funnel cloud to form from it.

"By restricting one of the senses you use the most, you will unconsciously draw on other senses. And once you begin to feel the elements more, your control over them will only increase."

Dorji took a deep breath. "The reason I can't hear in the spirit world... is because I was born deaf."

oOoOo

"So that's why you have trouble hearing," Katara said. Dorji had decided to tell them what she'd told Aang while they were flying to the Fire Nation.

Dorji nodded. She looked nervous, her hands were shaking. "Y-you don't... think less of me, d-do you?"

Katara hugged her until she stopped trembling. "I don't," she reassured her after letting her go, "and I'm sure Aang and Sokka feel the same way!"

Aang and Sokka nodded.

"I don't think anyone would think less of you for being deaf," Sokka contributed.

Dorji's face fell. "Thank you, but..."

Sokka's face scrunched up in regret. "It'd be great if I could go a day without sticking my foot in my mouth."

"No, no," Dorji shook her head. "It... wasn't anything that you could've known about."

He sighed. "Yeah, thanks, but I still should've guessed."

"I... would understand if you were wary of having me accompany you, still," Dorji muttered nervously. "M-my ability to sense noise, w-while more expansive than a normal person's, requires me to actively decipher sounds. I don't think that's normal, anyway. I'd like to say I'm normally good at using my air sense to hear, but it's not perfect. Strong winds and rainstorms can sometimes interfere with my ability to make out sounds, and if I'm distracted..." Dorji absentmindedly touched at her hair, her hand shaking slightly. She bit her lip. "It... that was how..." She took a deep breath, then muttered, "I was too focused on what I was practicing. Didn't notice him until he had grabbed me by the hair..."

"Oh, that must've awful," Katara said. "But don't worry, we'll be here to watch your back from now on."

Dorji smiled at her. "Thank you."

"Uhh, speaking of watching your back..." Sokka said fearfully, pointing to something behind Dorji. Everyone turned to see a Fire Nation ship sailing in their direction at full steam.

"They're gaining on us!" Katara shouted.

Dorji squinted at the boat. "It looks like an outdated cruiser. I haven't seen one of its make before, but it's much too small to be a current Fire Navy ship. I've heard that they focused more on speed than power at the start of the war, though. Is... is that Prince Zuko?"

Katara tapped Dorji's shoulder. "He probably is," she said when Dorji glanced over to her. "He's... kinda been chasing Aang."

Dorji made a small noise, then looked back at the boat. "Didn't think he'd find the Avatar that soon..."

"How can you see someone that far away?" Sokka asked. "And how do you know about Zuko?"

Katara went to tap Dorji's shoulder. "I 'heard,' don't worry," Dorji said. "While my hearing is... not, my eyesight is, thankfully, very good. Though to be honest I can only recognize Zuko from this distance because of his very identifying facial features. I've only had him described to me and it's too far away to really make out fine details. As for why I know him, my father is... a member of the Earth Kingdom army. I know at least the general descriptions of most Fire Nation persons of interest, banished princes included. Speaking of which, I think that's Uncle Iroh yelling at Zuko."

"Uncle Iroh?" Katara asked.

Dorji stiffened slightly. "Z-Zuko's uncle, Iroh. He was originally the heir apparent to the previous Fire Lord, but his younger brother, Ozai, somehow managed to usurp his claim." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "They're loading something into a trebuchet. I think Iroh is fanning his face, so it might have some form of flammable, but pungent oil on it. Get ready to take evasive maneuvers, I'll try to block it." She pulled out her staff halves.

"Hold onto something!" Aang shouted, gripping Appa's reins.

Dorji slashed the air with her staff halves as the now-flaming ball of... something hurtled towards them. It was smashed way off course by a blast of air.

"I'll try to disable their catapult without harming anyone now," Dorji said. "It'll take them some time to reload, so hold Appa steady."

"We've got a problem with that!" Aang shouted, pointing ahead of Appa.

Pointing at the Fire Nation blockade to be specific.

"That's bad," Sokka said.

"This is why I wanted to come alone!" Aang shouted. "It's way too dangerous!"

Dorji, too focused on Zuko's ship to hear, had planted her feet in a stance very unlike traditional airbending. She swirled the two halves of her staff around the air fluidly, then combined them with a flourish and slashed sharply at Zuko's boat. She could barely see the catapult slashed into as if by a giant, invisible blade while the crew of the ship was only knocked over by the blast of air. Just after she did that, Appa darted off to the side to dodge a flaming ball. She only barely managed to stay on Appa's back

"What did I say about-" Dorji started to say, then trailed off when she saw the Fire Nation blockade. "Oh, that's the blockade. It's usually not this bad, they must have been worried you'd go to Crescent Island on the solstice."

"We can't go around, there's not enough time!" Katara said.

"Hang on, everyone!" Aang shouted, gripping Appa's reins and steering him away from another volley of fireballs, up into the clouds.

"I have an idea, but I'm not sure if it'll work," Dorji said, starting to dig through the bag of scrolls. "For now I'll try to ward off the fireballs. Someone alert me if it looks like I'm distracted, though." She pulled out a particular scroll, then quickly unfurled it. When the next volley of fireballs flew, though, Dorji managed to do something to blow them away from Appa just with a single wave of her hand.

"What's that scroll about, Dorji?" Sokka asked.

"A... unique airbending technique my grandmother made a long time ago," Dorji answered after a moment, eyes still on the scroll. Every so often she waved her hand or flicked her wrist, and the fireballs flying around them missed Appa. The wind seemed to get more lively as she kept it up, causing the clouds to shift around. "I haven't managed to learn how to do it yet, but if I do learn it might help out. You might like this one, Aang, it's pretty pacifistic. Potentially."

"Really?" Aang asked, still trying to keep Appa away from the fireballs even though they were mostly being deflected away by Dorji's winds. "How does it work."

"It's..." Dorji squinted at her scroll, then shrugged. "It has... something to do with air and light. Have you ever noticed that, when you stick something in water, it looks a little distorted?" She waved a hand at a fireball, knocking it back down at the blockade.

"As a member of the Southern Water Tribe," Sokka butted in, "I've noticed."

"Thank you, Sokka," Dorji muttered flatly. "A long time ago, my grandmother noticed that as well. After some research she came to learn that while light mostly travels in a straight line, it can be distorted when it passes through clear things. This includes water and glass, but it can also include..."

"Air," Katara finished. "So is that where those mirages come from?"

"There can be mirages in the South Pole?" Aang asked. "I thought they only happened in the desert or something!"

"Apparently," Dorji said, effortlessly directing yet another fireball away from Appa. "So my grandmother managed to figure out how to use that with airbending to cause light to pass around objects, usually herself. The technique, once mastered, allows the user to become more-or-less invisible, as well as potentially create mirages to trick someone into thinking something is where it isn't." She looked back down at the scroll, then started concentrating. "It's harder to do over a larger area, but hopefully..." She started swirling the arm she wasn't using to hold the scroll around, making the air around Appa start shimmering.

"And you think I'd like it because using it means I could sneak around people without fighting?" Aang asked.

"...Possibly," Dorji muttered, still reading from her scroll. "Fair warning, this is where I might start getting more dis... distracted."

True to what she said, the next few fireballs came dangerously close to hitting Appa. He managed to dodge the first, but then the next two collided in midair and exploded near Appa. Unfortunately, Sokka slipped off the side of the saddle when the bison jerked away from the explosion, screaming as he fell.

"Sokka!" Katara yelled.

"I'm going down!" Aang shouted, spurring Appa into a dive. "Dorji, try to slow his fall!"

"Right, sorry," Dorji muttered. The shimmering around Appa got lighter as she waved her hand at Sokka. Some of the nearby clouds started to swirl around him as his fall slowed down. Appa managed to fly below Sokka long before he hit the ocean, allowing Katara to catch him.

"You okay?" Katara asked.

"That... was not fun," Sokka whined.

"He's fine..." Katara rolled her eyes.

"Good, because it looks like they're about to fire again!" Aang shouted, pointing at the blockade. "Dorji, if you can do that invisibility thing you'd better do it now!"

"H-hang on," Dorji said, putting the scroll away and waving her arms a little frantically. The air around Appa started to shimmer even more, though it didn't quite look like the technique was working.

"Fire!" the commander of the blockade shouted. The ship he was on shot another fireball at Appa. It looked like the aim was a little off, but it would still hit Appa if he continued flying straight.

"Whoa!" Aang shouted, steering Appa to dodge the attack. He also threw a blast of air out, knocking it even further to the side. With that last fireball dodged, Appa was able to fly past the blockade. It seemed that the ships were only readied to fire on one the one side of the blockade, as the ships failed to fire on the group as Appa got further from them.

"Everyone okay?" Aang asked. "That last one was a little close, Appa wouldn't have been able to dodge it if it was any closer." He turned around to look at the rest of the group. "We should be there soon, so get... Where is Dorji?"

Katara and Sokka looked to where they last saw Dorji, but didn't see her. "She was right there," Katara said. "Where did she-" Katara was cut off when an unseen, shaking hand tapped her on the arm. "What was that?"

"I-I... I s-saw..." Dorji's voice, distorted for some reason, came from the spot next to Katara.

"Did she... become invisible?" Sokka asked. He carefully poked at the air where Dorji's voice came from until he hit something solid. He caught a flash of black cloth from under his finger for a moment when he lifted it, though the effect quickly reasserted itself.

"D-did I?" Dorji asked. "It... shouldn't work like this."

"What's wrong with it?" Aang asked.

"Nothing," Dorji muttered. "But that's the problem. This is a technique that requires concentration, and I'm not even concentrating on it. I can feel that it's working, but... It shouldn't be."

"Is there anything that you can think of that... might have caused this?" Katara asked. "Sorry, I have no idea what's going on."

"I... s-saw the man that snuck up on me," Dorji muttered. "Wh-when my father was captured. He was o-on the blockade. I-I panicked for a moment when I s-saw him."

"Hey," Katara said, grabbing where she thought Dorji's hand might be. It felt like she grabbed her wrist instead. Good enough. She felt her way down to Dorji's still-shaking hand, then squeezed it. "Take a deep breath, please."

They heard the sounds of an invisible girl taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. "Thank you," Dorji muttered. "I feel better now."

"Do you think you can turn it off?" Sokka asked.

"At the very least, I can disrupt the technique by flowing air around my body in a way counter to how it's currently flowing..." Dorji muttered. "But I don't think I'll try that yet. Whatever happened here, whether it's related to the solstice, my panicking, or a mixture of both, I think it's safe to assume it's not going to happen again, or at the very least something that I can't reliably trigger. I can feel how the technique is working even though I'm not concentrating on using it, so my hope is that if I let it stay I might figure out how to actually use the technique. Plus we're going into enemy territory, so I think I'll take my chances hoping it lasts until we get out of here."

"That makes sense," Katara said. "By the way, how's your ankle?"

"It's better," she answered. "I should be able to walk and even fight, but I might have trouble running too fast. Don't be afraid to leave me behind if it comes to it, I can fend for myself even if I'm not invisible. And by myself it should be a simple matter to sneak by any guards that might be posted."

"We'll try not to leave you behind, though," Aang said. He pointed at the island that they were approaching, or rather the tower-like temple standing on it. "We're here, I'm gonna land Appa."

oOoOo

The grand door to the entrance of the temple opened, seemingly on its own. After a moment a quiet, distorted voice sounded from the door. "There isn't anyone in the main room, but I sense some people nearby. Fire sages, from their breathing and spiritual affinity."

"Good job, Dorji," Katara whispered.

"I'll scout ahead," Dorji said, now in the temple. "Try not to get spotted."

"We need to hurry, though," Aang said, walking into the room. "I need to get to the room at the top of the tower before sunset."

"Then we should avoid confrontation so we don't get caught- hide!"

Five old men in fire-themed red robes and hats walked into the room from one of the hallways around it. "We are the fire sages," the leader, the oldest-looking sage in the fanciest-looking robes, said. "We are the guardians of this temple."

"I don't suppose you're here to take me to the top of the temple?" Aang asked, smiling sheepishly.

The head sage shot a blast of fire at Aang. "No." The other sages also threw fire at him.

Aang quickly twirled his staff in front of himself, using airbending to form a shield of air in front of it that blocked the fire.

"Run," Aang shouted, "I'll distract them!"

Before he could do anything he was swept away by a strong gust of wind, getting knocked into Sokka and Katara and then pushed to one of the hallways that the sages didn't come from with the two. "You're the one that needs to reach the top," Dorji said. About half of her staff had turned visible when she made the gust, but it quickly faded again. "Run. Now."

Aang grimaced, then sighed. "Be careful. Meet back up with us as soon as you're done." He ran, dragging Sokka and Katara off with him.

The head sage sneered at the air next to where the staff disappeared. "I don't know how you're doing that, but you made a mistake by revealing your position. Split up, I'll deal with the ghost." The sages, at their leader's command, split off while the leader threw a blast of fire where he thought Dorji was.

A low but powerful gust of wind swept the sages that ran after Aang and the others off their feet while the fire that the leader shot hit only air. "What!?" the leader exclaimed, seeing the end of Dorji's staff fade away at the other end of the room, between the now-prone sages and the hallway. The head sage growled and threw more fireballs where the staff was, trying to keep Dorji on the defensive by constantly attacking her. The first few didn't seem to hit her so he started throwing his fire in random directions, trying to catch her. It didn't seem to work, but at the very least it seemed that it distracted her a bit judging from how one of the sages was able to quickly get up and dart to the hallway the Avatar went down.

"Good job, Shyu!" one of the other sages, who was still trying to get up, said. Another gust of wind tore through the room, knocking the remaining sages back down. They just barely saw the tip of a black staff flying down the hall the sage went down.

"Alright, who said that?" the head sage grumbled.

oOoOo

Shyu, the sage who had gotten past Dorji, somehow managed to catch up to Aang, Katara, and Sokka in a dead end. "Avatar, I wish to help you!" he told them.

"Why should we trust you?" Sokka shouted as they got ready to fight.

Shyu bowed in front of Aang, placing his hands on the floor. "I know what you must be here for, and want to help you. It's going to be hard for you to reach the Avatar's chamber before the rest of the sages without help." He started to get up but slammed back into the ground, the imprint of an invisible foot appearing on his robes and a surprised expression sprouting on his face. "Wha-"

"I assume from the fact that he was on the ground in a position that greatly limited his choices for attack that this sage is the only one who remembers his ancestral duties," a calm voice sounded from the air above him.

"Of course, Lady Raava," Shyu said. "Now please, we must hurry before we are caught."

"I'm not... right, what do you need to do?" The invisible foot lifted from his back and he was hauled up by the unseen Dorji.

Shyu quickly walked over to a lamp, slid it back to reveal a small hole in the wall, then placed his palm over the hole. Fire flashed from under his palm, then a secret passage opened up in the wall. "Inside, quickly," he commanded.

"Thank you," Aang said, then followed his orders. Sokka and Katara quickly followed after him.

Shyu entered the secret tunnel last, closing the door behind him. "They hopefully shouldn't consider the fact that I brought you in here," Shyu whispered, "but we should stay moving, and stay quiet. I'm not the only one who knows of these tunnels."

"What did you call me earlier?" Dorji asked as they walked.

"Lady Raava, the name of the Avatar Spirit from before she merged with the first Avatar," Shyu answered. "Are... are you not she? I had wondered, when you first attacked us, if the talk of the Avatar Spirit walking with each Avatar was more literal than we thought..."

"No, I'm not Raava," Dorji answered.

"I see," Shyu said, though he still looked puzzled. "How is it that I can't see you, then?"

"A long story that, no offense, I am not willing to share with a fire sage at this time."

Shyu nodded. "I understand."

"Hang on, did you just say that the Avatar Spirit is a girl?" Sokka asked.

"I've never heard the name Raava before..." Aang said.

"I was lucky to learn that name at all," Shyu said, rubbing his chin. "It was mentioned in a scroll about the Avatar that I found a while back. I attributed the lack of knowledge on her to Fire Lord Sozin's regime, but if you only know her as the Avatar Spirit... I suppose it makes sense. The text said that she merged with the first Avatar thousands of years ago, so I suppose it might not be common knowledge..."

"I guess I should add that to the list of things I want to ask Roku about..." Aang said.

"These secret passages are actually Avatar Roku's work, you know," Shyu said. "Once upon a time he called this temple home. Though that was before my time, of course."

Aang stared at the walls of the tunnel. He quietly ran his hand along the cave-like wall. "It feels... strange, being told about all these things about my past lives, about myself, that I don't remember..."

"I can imagine," Dorji said. "I don't have any past lives, or at least I don't have any past lives that I can remember, but... Let's just say that some of my ancestors have done noteworthy things. Hearing about them, knowing that I'm related to them... It's a lot, and I imagine that being the Avatar is like that, but with more pressure. But..." An invisible hand squeezed Aang's shoulder lightly. "You have us. I... I do hope that that helps."

Aang smiled at where he thought Dorji's face was. "I think it does. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Though my eyes are up here."

Aang jumped. "Ah! Sorry!"

Dorji snorted. "That was a joke, you're good."

He sighed. "Thanks..."

"Hey, I thought that Air Nomads didn't know about their families," Sokka said.

"They don't. I was talking about my grandfather's lineage, however, and my grandfather is no Air Nomad."

"Your grandfather?" Katara asked.

"My father's father," Dorji answered. "He was an Earth Kingdom general before he retired. He still helps out, though certain situations even aside from his age prevent him from taking to battle anymore... He is still a powerful earthbender, though."

"Was... was he disappointed you're not an earthbender?" Sokka asked.

"Of course not!" Dorji said sharply. It was louder than her normal speaking voice, but thankfully only echoed a bit off the walls. "He would never be disappointed by something like that! He was delighted to learn that my father and I are airbenders, even if there was only so much he could teach us!"

Sokka backed up a bit, putting his hands out defensively. "I'll take your word for it," he said quickly.

"We're almost to the room," Shyu said. "Please quiet down, in case there's anyone up there already." He thought, then said, "I'm sorry, I never caught your name..."

"I'll scout ahead," Dorji said, anticipating what he wanted to ask.

Shyu nodded. "Yes, thank you. I can do it if you don't want to, but..."

"As I am currently invisible I'm the most logical choice," Dorji rationalized. "Plus if you're staying here with the others then you won't have an opportunity to set up an ambush, in the event that you're plotting against us."

"I would never do that," Shyu objected.

"No offense, but after a century of war and the genocide of my grandmother's people I reserve the right to not trust a Fire Nation official I have just met."

He sighed. "I suppose that's only fair... For the record, though, that thought hadn't occurred to me."

Dorji didn't answer.

"Did she leave already?" Shyu frowned.

Katara shrugged. "Maybe. She's pretty quiet..."

"Sorry about her," Aang said.

Shyu shook his head sadly. "It's... not like she's wrong, is she? You were wary of me, as well..."

"I mean, yeah," Sokka said. "The Fire Nation is pretty much the worst. Our mother died in a Fire Nation raid. You weren't the one who killed her, obviously, but stuff like that makes it hard to trust people from the Fire Nation..."

The sage chuckled sadly, his shoulders slumped. "You know, this is the first time I've ever spoken from anyone from outside the Fire Nation... I didn't know what to expect, but I suppose I can't complain with what you've said... I don't know what I can do to even begin to make up for the sins of my nation, aside from what I'm doing now, but after today I will do my best!"

"An admirable goal," Dorji's voice suddenly sounded from nowhere. "If you're serious about it, you'll find an opportunity soon. Now, the room and the route to it is clear, so let's hurry."

oOoOo

Shyu fell to his knees. "The doors are closed," he whispered. Sure enough, the massive, ornate doors in the middle of the room were shut, the five dragons on its face seeming to glare at the intruders and "traitor."

"Can't you just open them with firebending?" Sokka asked. "It looks a bit like a door in the Southern Air Temple that Aang opened with airbending."

"Maybe it has a similar mechanism," Shyu said, "but this door is made so that only a fully-realized Avatar can open it by themself. It needs five simultaneous fire blasts that otherwise need to be provided by five fire sages."

"I think I have an idea," Sokka muttered, rubbing his chin and looking at a lamp.

"I also have an idea," Dorji said. "Care to share notes?"

Sokka nodded. "Something my father showed me, once. We take some oil from those lamps and put them in animal skin pouches. Soak some twine in the oil and Shyu can light them all up at once!"

"Makeshift bombs," Dorji noted. "It sounds like it might work, at least in theory. My idea is to try to use my airbending to amplify and guide Shyu's firebending. It's actually a concept my father once told me about, as well. How about you set your idea up while we try our thing?"

"Sounds good," Sokka said. "Katara, can you give me some help? And... you probably want Aang, right?"

"He might help, hopefully. At the very least it might be good to introduce the concept to him. Approach the door, Shyu and Aang."

At Dorji's order, the sage and the Avatar approached the door. "Where do you want us to stand?" Shyu asked.

"You take a few steps back and face the door." A bit of dust kicked up behind where Shyu was standing, presumably where Dorji wanted him to stand. "Aang, you stand back. Try to feel what I'm doing to the air, but don't do anything unless you're absolutely sure you can help." A current of wind started to blow despite the lack of open windows in the room. "I am creating pathways of air that will contain and stoke your fire. In theory, this will make the fire powerful enough to trigger the mechanisms even with just your fire. Still, I'm going to need you to use as much fire as possible or it might not work."

A circle of air shimmered in front of Shyu for a moment. "Is that where I'm supposed to hit?" he asked.

"Yes. I'll tell you when it's ready, of course, but you have to shoot inside that circle, as close to center as possible."

Shyu nodded, starting to concentrate. He breathed deeply; in, then out. In, then out. He clenched both of his fists, raising them slightly and entering a firebending stance. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to.

"I take it you're ready?" Dorji asked.

He nodded.

"I'm almost ready, too. Once it's established it shouldn't be time-sensitive, so don't try to rush it once I say so, but..."

He nodded.

Dorji concentrated in silence for a few more moments. Finally... "There, it's ready when you are."

Shyu nodded again, took another deep breath, then punched as hard as he could with both fists. A large blast of fire sprouted from his fists, but most of its heat was funneled forward by Dorji's airbending. The flames spiraled forward and split into five branches that hit the five dragons on the door directly on the mouths. The dragons, thankfully, reacted to the fire, moving up to a position that allowed the doors to open. Shyu beamed at the door as it slowly opened, revealing a statue of Avatar Roku. However it started to slowly close as soon as it was fully opened. "Now, Avatar! Before it closes again!"

Aang nodded and quickly dashed through the doors. He sat down in front of the statue as the doors closed behind him.

"Aw, I wanted to try out my idea!" Sokka said, carrying over three of his makeshift bombs. Katara was walking behind him with the other two.

"Sorry, maybe next time," Dorji said. "Though now you have a few makeshift bombs."

"How is Aang supposed to get back out, actually?" Katara asked, a little concerned.

"There's a similar mechanism on the other side of the door," Shyu said. "Hopefully Avatar Roku can help with it. What do we do now, though?"

"You wander the halls, pretending to be looking for us," Dorji said. "Give them no hint that you have helped us." An invisible hand grabbed Shyu's and pulled it into a handshake. "We'll hide near here until Aang emerges. Good luck."

Shyu looked at his hand with surprise, then smiled at where he thought the girl might be. "Thank you, I wish you luck as well."

oOoOo

Aang waited in the sanctuary until a beam of sunlight hit the statue. He watched light engulf the statue, smoke pouring out of it. He stood up as the smoke engulfed him, seemingly transporting him to a mountaintop. The statue of Roku was gone, replaced by the spirit of the past Avatar.

"Avatar Roku," Aang said with a reverent bow.

His predecessor gave him a smile. "Avatar Aang. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too. Is the reason you brought me here related to that vision you showed me when you called me?"

Roku nodded. "The comet. One hundred years ago Fire Lord Sozin used the power of that comet to wipe out the Air Nomads."

Aang frowned. "I heard about that, actually. Sozin's Comet, it supposedly comes around once every century and gives firebending a boost." His frown deepened. "Hhhey, I don't suppose you know when, exactly, the comet showed up?"

Roku nodded. "Your fears are, unfortunately, correct. The comet will return by Summer's end, and it is unlikely that the current Fire Lord will do nothing with the power it will grant him." Roku bowed contritely. "I apologize for the mess that I have left you, Aang, but now it is up to you. You must end the war before the return of the comet, or I fear the Fire Lord will end it for you."

"I... I don't know how I can do that," Aang said. "I haven't even mastered all four elements, and that normally takes years!"

"That is true, yet you must master the elements by the comet. It is a tall task, but not impossible. If you trust in your friends and make allies, you will be able to avert this disaster."

Aang nodded, though he still looked nervous. "If you believe I can do it..."

Roku moved forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know you can, Aang. You have done it in each of your past lives, even through hardships, and your past lives will forever be with you."

Aang gave him a nervous smile. "Thanks... Hey, speaking of past lives, have you ever heard the name Raava?"

Roku nodded. "Of course. She is the Avatar spirit, after all. However, I only learned her name after my death, when I met her in person. Well, as 'in person' as you can get between two spirits..."

"Why didn't you learn her name until then?" Aang asked.

"It is always easiest for an Avatar to communicate with more recent past Avatars, hence why the most recent Avatar is usually the current Avatar's spirit advisor. Raava first bonded with us thousands of years ago, with hundreds of Avatars between then and now. It's not impossible for you to contact Raava, of course, but it will require effort on your part. You might not be able to until much later in your life. For now, I suggest you worry about the war for now."

"Of course," Aang nodded. "How will I meet you again? I don't think I can come here every time I want advice..."

He nodded. "When you need me, you will find a way. I only used the power of the solstice to contact you because I wanted to make you aware of the comet as soon as possible. Otherwise, you should eventually learn to contact me through meditation. Now, the solstice will soon end..." He waved a hand, showing a vision of outside the sanctuary. The five fire sages stood at the ready in front of the doors, Shyu looking slightly uneasy. Armored Fire Nation soldiers bolstered their numbers, led by a helmetless man that looked quite pleased with himself. Aang could just barely see Sokka and Katara hiding behind a pillar, though he also noticed Zuko hiding behind another. "It seems that your enemies are anticipating your exit." He smiled. "Why don't you let this old man help you deal with them, to make up for dragging you all the way out here?"

Aang returned his smile, then his eyes and tattoos glowed. "Thank you," he said.

oOoOo

"Bathe him in fire as soon as that door opens!" Zhao ordered. As soon as the dragons on the doors started to move, the firebenders all took aim. They threw a wave of fire at the doors as soon as they started to open, before they could even see what was inside. The fire obscured the contents of the room... and then a tall, white-haired man in red robes emerged from the fire completely unscathed. His eyes glowed pure white as he glared at his countrymen. With a single wave of his hands he gathered all the fire that the firebenders had thrown at him and made it explode outward in a wave that knocked all the firebenders down or at least back, but barely pushed Katara and Sokka.

Zhao growled at the phantom Avatar as he braced himself against the wave of superheated air, then blinked when he saw a familiar shimmer in the air. His scowl turned into a predatory grin as he lunged at the shimmering air. The grin widened when he managed to grab something solid, perhaps a wrist, even though she tried to dodge. Dorji squirmed, but he quickly wrapped his other arm around her waist and switched the arm at her wrist to holding a fire dagger to her neck. The heat of the flame disrupted the smallest amount of Dorji's invisibility, revealing a small patch of the skin of her neck just a hair's breadth from his "blade."

The commander chuckled into Dorji's ear, or at least where he thought it was. "You can't cut your hair to escape this time, kid," he whispered. Zhao turned his attention back to Roku and sneered. "I have a hostage, Avatar! Give up the kid's body or I'l-"

His demand was cut off by a squelch and a spray of blood. He released Dorji and screamed, clutching the now-bleeding arm that he had used to grab Dorji. Roku used the distraction to blast him to the floor with another wave of fire.

"Go, now!" the Avatar ordered, looking at Katara and Sokka.

The siblings hesitated, but an invisible force dragged them towards the exit by their hands.

"We can't leave Aang!" Katara yelled, digging her feet in and forcing Dorji to stop with Sokka's help.

She noticed, though, that Dorji's hand was shaking. "A-a-avatar... R-roku... w-will..." There was a sound that, even muffled and distorted by the altered airflow around her, Katara and Sokka recognized as shallow, panicked breathing.

Sokka and Katara exchanged a look. "I'll make sure Aang gets out safely, you take care of Dorji," Sokka said.

Katara nodded and squeezed Dorji's hand. She noticed that the air around Dorji was starting to shimmer, enough that she could make out the rough outline of her body. "Let's go, Dorji," she said softly, then pulled Dorji along. She frowned at Avatar Roku, who was still throwing around the helpless Fire Nation fighters.

oOoOo

Appa flew as close to the now-melting temple as he could, guided by Katara at the reins. Sokka ran out of the temple. dragging an exhausted Aang over his shoulder. He quickly climbed onto Appa's saddle. "Yip yip!" he yelled, even though Appa was already flying. Katara got the message and had Appa fly up and away from the temple immediately.

"Where's Dorji?" Aang asked, looking around the saddle. He saw, in the back of the saddle, what appeared to be a ball of shimmering air. As he watched, Dorji seemed to shimmer back into existence as her invisibility "technique" finally failed. Dorji was curled into a ball, clutching the back of her head. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes closed.

Aang silently crawled over to Dorji and cautiously put his hand on her shoulder. Dorji jumped a bit, then looked up at Aang. She sniffed, then leaned forward and pressed her head onto Aang's shoulder. Aang hugged her as she sobbed, stroking her hair.

He waited until she looked back up at him to speak. "I'm sorry," he said. "Today was too much of a risk, and all I really learned from Roku was that Sozin's Comet is coming at the end of Summer. In hindsig-"

"N-no," Dorji muttered, shaking her head a little. She took a deep breath. "Even... even if you didn't learn much, the first meeting between an Avatar and their predecessor is still important. And as far as you knew he could've told you about a secret tunnel into the Fire Lord's palace. And it's not your fault that Zhao was there." She then slumped over and laid down. "Now if you excuse me, I need to sleep now..."

Aang nodded. "Thanks. Good night, Dorji."

She didn't answer, though Aang couldn't tell if it was because she had fallen asleep already or if she just stopped listening.

[intelligentdumbass]

My Sweet Prince (2.0)

“What do you do when you’ve done all that there is to do? When you’re too bored to do nothing and yet too tired to do something? When you want to talk but at the same time not?

Well, everyone knows I love to sing and, in times like those just described, I prefer to only sing to myself; to sit in the forest and play my cithara for no one in particular but the random fauna that decide to stay and watch.

…

It was a morning like any other, or at least it was supposed to be.

There was a prince, Hyacinthus, who had set off with his dogs to go hunt in the wooded outskirts of his kingdom. I imagined him to be confused, for it must’ve been quite the strange sight to behold; the trees nothing but silence for hours and hours on end. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, when he and his hounds managed to catch a scent, it was accompanied by a song, and the voice was not of a bird’s. It led them into a small clearing and instead of drawing his bow, the hunter froze.

There was, in the middle, what he perceived to be a fair maiden strumming on their lyre; golden hair shimmering under the sunlight as a wide range of animals sat around them. The young man was entranced, and so were his dogs, so for a while he just stared until the musician finally decided to acknowledge the new addition to their audience.

The notes slowly faded but, before the singer could say a word, Hyacinthus snapped out of it and spoke first.

“I’m sorry miss but… Who the hell are you?” He slowly approached, cautious of all the critters. “What in Zeus’ name is a lass like you doing out here of all places?”

I raised an eyebrow, but I decided to play along. “Oh you know… boredom.”

“I assume your father’s somewhere close by, then.” He glanced around, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh no, I came here to have some me time with myself.”

Hyacinthus looked dismayed. “Not even a brother, cousin, or a friend?”

I shook my head; he frowned.

“It’s not safe to be all alone out here.” He insisted. “As a prince, it is my duty to protect-”

And alas, it was in that moment that he had accidentally stepped on the tail of a lion. Fortunately, a second later, a silver arrow rushed by; barely missing the young man and piercing the cat’s heart. The rest of the animals took this as a sign to scram.

Hyacinthus blinked, and muttered a silent prayer to the god of archery. Ironically, this is what he said immediately after:

“See my point? Come on, I’ll escort you back.”

He reached his hand out to assist me, but only got a punch to the face in response. As he staggered back I took the opportunity to speak in my normal, deeper voice.

“Really??”

Needless to say, the mortal was mortified. Gazing into my sapphire eyes, he suddenly understood. He hastily tried to get his shit together, smiling in embarrassment.

“A-” “Apologies my lord. I suppose you’re just… that enchanting.”

I scanned him from head to toe. My instincts told me he wasn’t lying; it wasn’t merely empty flattery. “Hm… I suppose you’re not that bad yourself.”

“Ah well, of course! I’m Sparta’s heir after all.” He proudly exclaimed. “Still though, I am, uh terribly sorry for interrupting your song-”

“Save your apologies; it’s fine. I’m not going to smite you for that.” I sat down and placed the cithara back on my lap. “In fact, you’re welcome to stay if you so desire. I won’t mind.”

“But you said you wanted some time alone?”

“Away from the other gods, I mean.”

Hyacinthus was reluctant, but his puppers seemed eager to hear me continue my song.

“…alright. Only for a bit, if that’s okay with you, Lord Phoebus.” He said, sitting next to me; the dogs following suit. I suppose he had nothing better to do. Then again, how could he?

I smiled. “Please, just call me Apollo.”

Unbeknownst to Hyacinthus a ‘bit’ was quite the understatement. It was like time itself ceased to exist, and for once that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Soon the sun was setting and the prince was leading his pack back to the palace. I chose to stay. It was then that the west wind materialized before me.

“I was just passing by, so here’s a quick tip.” Zephyr murmured. “If I were you, I’d restrain myself. He’s already caught the eyes of two other gods and one mortal.”

“And you’re telling me this because?” A smile crept its way onto my lips.

“…what’s with that look?” He frowned; I said nothing as the god slowly fizzled out into thin air.

Hyacinthus had invited me to go out and hunt with him!

As expected of two skilled hunters, the trip went exceptionally well. Still, as we sprinted through the trees, I couldn’t help but sense the eyes of someone else; immediately knowing who it was. If Hyacinthus knew too, then he merely chose to ignore that suspiciously strong scent of spring. Still, I had a little sympathy for the intruder. The prince was easy to like, and I’m sure many have fallen for his bodily charms alone.

When we paused for a break, I said:

“Has anyone ever made a move on you before?”

Hyacinthus froze; I held in a chuckle. It was easy to see his attempt at holding my hand just as the question was asked.

“At least three other men have, but I’ve rejected them all.” He then quickly added, “That isn’t to say I’m only into woman though!”

I laughed. “Having trouble finding the right one?”

He stared a bit before suddenly grinning. “…Who knows, for all I know, I already have.”

My answer was a line I’ve paraphrased a hundred times. “Because I’m smart, talented, and very hot?”

“Maybe.” He inched closer. “But it’s also because of, or rather, how you smile.”

That response was a little… refreshing. A faint flush of red spread around my cheeks as I flashed a smirk, probably further proving his point. Then in the blink of an eye he leaned in; a hand holding my chin and his murmurs softer than any other breeze against my ear.

“May I?”

He only got a kiss in response.

However, even when the hunt was over and he was already making his way back home, I couldn’t help but… follow him back to Sparta, if only for a bit.

Turns out, Hyacinthus had showed up to his training with hundreds of flowers still intricately woven into his hair. It was hilarious how everyone else looked too scared to comment; well, except for Thamyris.

“What in the actual fuck?” He exclaimed.

“Okay, short version is: I fell asleep during the break after the hunting trip, so now there are a bunch of flowers in my hair.”

“Out of all of your suitors, you chose a god; hell, not just that, one of the fucking Olympians.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

I grinned, but then the other said: “Marpessa wouldn’t.”

…

Hyacinthus sighed. “Look, we all have our own preferences. Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

“As if.” He turned around, about to leave. “Just don’t come back crying to me when shit goes downhill.”

I… suppose you could say that Thamyris had the kind of arrogance that reminded me of Marsyas. They both dabbled in music too. Hopefully he doesn’t end up making the same mistake that the satyr did. Thankfully, the prince seemed to be trying to ignore him.”

  “…You know you could’ve just said “Sorry I’m late, I stalked my date.”” Athena raised an eyebrow; yet her voice carried not a single trace of annoyance. Doing their father’s paperwork was a task she was well accustomed too, and a very boring one at that.

“Hey! For the record I didn’t stay any longer after that conversation he had with Thamyris. Plus, it’s not every day that I almost forget about my duties. I figured you’d want a thorough explanation.”

“Well, as long as it isn’t too thorough.”

The god laughed. “Oh wait, shit-” “What was I doing again?” His eyes scanned the documents he forgot he was holding.

The goddess sighed. There was but one thought in her mind.

‘This is going to start happening much more often now, isn’t it?’

And she was right.

A few days later, Hermes was swiftly flying through the halls until he stopped in front of the studio’s door. He carefully pushed it open, but despite being the lord of communication, he couldn’t utter a single word.  

It was late in the evening, and his brother wasn’t alone.

Apollo was sitting down, writing on a scroll, and behind him was a mortal curiously peering over his shoulder. Then the boy moved closer, and wrapped his arms around the blonde’s waist; tenderly whispering sweet nothings into his ear. To Hermes’ surprise, Apollo allowed himself to be pried away from his research.

The younger god decided to just slowly close the door.

Athena was right and apparently she didn’t seem to mind.

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

Thamyris wasn’t the only one with a complaint.

Hyacinthus was sitting under a cypress tree; trying to practice playing the lyre his lover had gifted him, when the breeze whispered into his ear.

“Look at it.” He said. “Your reflection in the water.”

The prince raised an eyebrow, but he glanced into the stream in front of him anyway. The top of his head was adorned with all sorts of flowers, no doubt due to the breath of the west wind.

“Hm… I think I liked it better when Apollo did it.”

Zephyr frowned; materializing seated down on his left.

“You’re not giving me a chance-”

“Except he already did.” Apollo sighed, suddenly appearing on Hyacinthus’ right. “For fates’ sake, take a hint and go blow someone else.”

The other god glared, but gave in, yet not before yelling something on a whim.

“So in one of the few times a mortal catches my fancy, you, who have already had many, get to have him instead?” He suddenly stood up. “You’re as greedy and insatiable with your lovers as you are with your domains.”

Apollo said nothing as the god disappeared into the wind.

Hyacinthus surprised him with a hug from behind.

“His argument is invalid. This isn’t just your choice, but mine as well.”

Still, after months and months of general bliss, the prince couldn’t help but ask:

“Those laurel wreaths you wear; they mean a lot to you, don’t they?”

The god felt his chest hurt. “Well, of course; there are many reasons as to why I care about them, one of them being that they remind me of something I shouldn’t ever forget because I don’t want to make a mistake like that ever again.”

There was a brief moment of hesitation before he continued.

“Hyacinthus?”

“Yeah?”

“Never doubt my feelings for you, okay?”

“I never did.”

“…even so, you really must know that, because of you, right now is the best I’ve ever felt in literal decades.”

“Oh don’t flatter me, sunshine.”

“You know I can’t lie. So really, trust me when I say that I’m here to stay.”

Hyacinthus’ eyes darted around the room as the musician’s head rested on his lap; the prince’s fingers twirling around in his golden locks. The floor was littered with paintings and marble statues of varying shapes and sizes scattered all over.

“Something caught your eye?” Apollo said as he saw his lover look at a painting of Crete. “You can take one of them home if you’d like.”

“Oh-” “Oh no it’s fine, really! I was just… enjoying the scenery.”

“Hm, you know I can take you there myself, right? Oooooh, imagine! A tour around Greece with yours truly.”

The boy smiled. His gaze shifted from a painting of Delphi to some art work of Leto, then Artemis, then Zeus, Athena and the rest of the other heavenly gods.

What he stared at the most were the ones next to those works about the Muses and the Thriae.

The names were many, Admetus, Cyrene, Branchus, Hecuba, Helenus… then there was Cassandra, Daphne, and an unfinished Coronis, and as he continued to look, the prince could’ve sworn he felt the god gently squeeze his hand.

“Everything alright, my Phoebus?”

The god smiled. “I’m just… tired.”

The prince leaned to give him a reassuring kiss.

Two years, or at least, about two years, their laughter almost lasted for about two years.

Alas, what’s two years in the life of an immortal that can never die?

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

Olympus’ garden was huge; its depths filled with paths most don’t even know of. It was here the two gods sat down on top of a small hill, right in front of a giant crevice that overlooked all of their creations.

“I hate how I can still feel a-” “and remember every single…”

Hermes was never good at these kinds of talks. “You wanna let it all out?”

Apollo sighed, carefully breathing in and then breathing out; repeating that process for a good minute.

Ai, ai, ai-

...

 “It was a morning like any other, or at least, it was supposed to be.

The prince was an athletic young man, much like us, and there were many things that were done on the field. One of them involved the discus. He’d always try to run and catch the disc once I had sent it hurling into the air.

…

The crack echoed- no, roared, and my body screamed like every bone in my system had snapped a hundred times over.

I was by his side in an instant, cradling him in my arms until he was nothing more than a poor flower that had broke its stem; all due to the breath of the west wind.

It was so… quiet and I was so close; close enough that I could feel him go, like I could reach out and grasp his hand to prevent his soul from drifting away. I felt it all: the desperate breaths, the steady weakening of his heart and that last flutter of his eyelids as he looked at me, as scared and overwhelmed as I was with all that was happening and yet I-

I still failed. I’m the god of healing and medicine and I was right there, I was so close and he still managed to slip away!

If only he could take me with him too.

It was like time itself ceased to exist, the exact second that last spark of life faded into the depths of Hades repeating on and on and on, again and again and again-

…

My arms were hugging a lump of ice by the time Artemis found me.”

 “…I heard you tried to murder Zephyrus?”

 “W-” “Well... I think I recall hearing father’s voice when I had rushed into the halls.

“Athena, Apollo’s neglecting his duties.” He said. “When was the last time you saw him walk into Olympus?”

“Give him some more time and I’m sure he’ll-”

It was then that someone, the bastard himself, had noticed me.

“Fear not my lord.” Zeus’ old messenger, the west shit, proudly exclaimed. “He’s already here!”

And indeed I was, fingers stained with crimson red; purple petals falling out of my hair.

A smile crept its way onto Zephyr’s lips. “You’re welcome.”

Needless to say, I immediately started chasing him with my bow.”

 “And then Athena stopped you, right?”

 --------------

It must’ve been quite the strange sight to behold for our winged eavesdropper. Apollo had a blank look in his eyes and Athena was standing in his way; Zephyr a little further down the hall behind her, curiously peaking over the corner.

Unbeknownst to any of them, Hermes was a lizard hiding inside of a jar.

“Athena, move.”

“Apollo,” Surprisingly, the goddess was perfectly calm. “Father has already retired him as his personal messenger, and he is now going to serve under Eros to repent for the very stupid thing he did in ‘the name of love’.”

“It’s not enough-”

“I know, and it’s never going to be enough.” Then she muttered. “Look, what happened with Pallas was much more justifiable than what this idiot wind bag did and even then, even if it was our father, to this day a tiny part of me is still pissed even if I knew he did it because he was worried about me.”

For a moment, the god was quiet. “Zephyr isn’t nearly as important.”

“But still crucial enough; I think it’d be best if we didn’t lose the west wind. Listen to your head, you know this isn’t worth it; it’s never going to be worth it.”

After a few seconds of silence, in the blink of an eye, Apollo was gone.

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

 “I really am unreasonable, aren’t I, Hermes? Crying over beings much lesser than myself…”

“You knew you had your heart set upon a mortal, so I guess it does sound foolish to grieve over their mortality but… I think we’re all a little unreasonable sometimes. On the brightside, I’m sure you’ll meet someone new eventually. You are Apollo after all.” He offers his friend a reassuring smile.

The blonde smiled back, yet his eyes were impossible to read. “I suppose…”

“Is there anything you want to say? To Hyacinthus, I mean, if I encounter him down in Hades.”

…

..

.

“If we should ever meet again

No matter how long the wait

No matter how many lifetimes it takes

My arms will be glad to welcome you in an embrace

Until then, just know

That even when man has forgotten my face

And I roam the world as nothing but a shade

Your memory will continue, forever living on

In all the flowers that the earth will cover itself, bearing your name

Goodnight, my sweet prince”

 And as Zeus’ newly appointed messenger left, Apollo decided to merely sing to himself; to sit on the hill and play his cithara for no one in particular but the random fauna that decide to stay and watch.

Athena was surprised to see him enter Olympus only a week after, even though she should’ve seen it coming. He is Apollo after all.

There were duties to fulfill.

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

(The original one I made)

[darkpoisonouslove]

I'm offering you an empty salt shaker - asks 2, 5, 6, 15 (go ahead, I know you have something XD), 16, 20, 25 (about Bloom searching for her parents storyline)

Starting this again because guess who accidentally hit the key combination for undo and lost half an answered ask! This bitch right here.

I answered 2 here.

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?*

Not that I can think of. It’s usually the source material that ruins things and fandom is tasked with fixing them later.

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*

I didn’t hate it but Bloom x Icy was incomprehensible to me. Fics helped a lot and so did other posts from here and there and I can see it now. Also, I totally couldn’t see Griffin x Codatorta but that changed, too. Though, that was less fandom and more trashcankitty12 with an ask that made me think about it a little more in-depth so it was pretty much me roping up myself into yet another ship. But ooh, I also don’t think I had considered Palladium x Avalon before fandom but, yes, indeed, it is right there in canon. And I was so puzzled over the Riven x Nabu content I was seeing but after watching seasons 3 and 4, I can totally see where this is coming from. The people are right. That is a bromance right there.

15. Unpopular opinion about the manga/show?

I have no idea what is popular and what isn’t (but you’re right that I have something aka A LOT) so I’ll just list my strong opinionsTM, okay? I will try not to dump on Bloom too much also because it is not a secret that I don’t like her so there is no need for me to go in too much detail.

4kids is the superior dub. That is probably the most controversial opinion I hold. But don’t worry, I’ll try to top it and up the ante. XD

I love Enchantix but it has so many flaws as a concept and even more as an execution and the thing that is really pissing me off is how obviously centered around Bloom’s arc it is. It was clearly created for the advancement of her character and the other girls’ stories came as an afterthought which is why Tecna’s Enchantix was total bullshit. And for having a transformation that is specifically created around Bloom, hers was bullshit as well. I think they should have let her reearn it in order for her to be able to use all of its functions like miniaturizing. Also also, at so many points it totally sounds like Bloom is not upset about the fact that Domino and all of its people were destroyed but about the fact that that means she won’t get her Enchantix. Which btw was a hasty conclusion because at the time Enchantix became a thing, she was still on a mission to find her parents which would have definitely been a way to earn her Enchantix and she had a sign that they were alive. So her angsting over not getting an Enchantix because of what happened on Domino was bad form on the writers’ part.

That spell for good decisions in 1x05 was one of the show’s lowest and most ridiculous moments. It was only included to flaunt in your face how naturally being a leader comes to Bloom because “See? See!!!!!! She can make a good decision without using magic to help her!” So can the majority of the population (note that we are talking about ONE good decision, not an unbreakable sequence of such). She ain’t all that special. Plus, Tecna was written wildly OOC there in order to boost Bloom’s stats so to speak. I’m sorry but Tecna would’ve known that three against four doesn’t give them advantage since they are freshmen and the Trix were seniors at the time. God, that scene was stupid.

Flora is the most boring character in seasons 1-3, fight me about it.

The writers totally had no idea what they were doing with the witches throughout most of season 1 which is why Griffin’s characterization in that season is so inconsistent. Also, wtf was that in 1x06? She straight up tried to kill a bunch of 15-year-old girls. Take a chill pill! I’m glad they figured out a much better balance with her later on.

Not using the fact that Cloud Tower is a living organism more was a fucking wasted opportunity. Especially in season 3 when Valtor took over it. That could have made everything so much better. Also, the witches should have been used more. They were interesting but deserved so much better in terms of development.

Sky should have just fucking died in 2x10. What were these resurrections and Bloom getting healing powers out of nowhere for a total of 5 seconds? You know, that could have been a good setup for a Bloom x Diaspro romance. It would have been so much better if they’d gotten together right after 1x17 and dumped Sky’s sorry ass. Also, Diaspro deserved better.

Riven is the best Specialist but he is especially better than Sky. Remember 1x22 when he was trying to escape CT? He was trapped deep in enemy territory with monsters everywhere and so high above the ground, yet he found his way out. Sky would’ve fucking died out in the open at Magix against one single monster if Bloom hadn’t shown up to rescue him. And the show has the gall to imply that Sky is a better Specialist than Riven is? Please!

The teachers should be fined and sued for emotional and physical damage they haven’t protected their students from. Especially the Alfea teachers who in 1x02 practically admitted that the witches might maim a fairy and they still won’t do shit about it. Nice one!

Griffin and Valtor is canonical subtext and I have nothing more to say about this. It is all there.

Valtor up until 3x18 and Valtor from 3x19 to 3x26 are two different people and the prior is superior in every way. The show ruined him in the last third of the season because there was no other way for Winx to defeat him.

Speaking about Valtor, his whole thing with the Trix is despicable and I hate it so much. It is extremely cringy on their part and extremely underhanded on his and I can’t stand it. Not to mention that it is wildly OOC for the Trix because they are obviously better than that.

I cannot understand saying that Bloom x Valtor is love-hate. I see only hate.

It is ridiculous how easily the Trix beat Griffin in season 6 and how they nearly take control over CT in season 2. And it is also ridiculous that she had to wait for Winx to unspell CT in season 3. She is a teacher, the headmistress of the most prestigious school for witches, a veteran and has been Valtor’s partner (and he himself admitted that together they were unstoppable which means that she has to be pretty powerful and even somewhere close to his level of power). Can the show stop acting like she is defenseless?

The teachers should have been used more. It would’ve been so much better if they were there to at least help Winx if not lead their battles. And it would have made much more sense. Also, how come Ediltrude and Zarathustra literally disappear when it’s convenient and then reappear again (like they did in season 1 when the witches went to Alfea)? That’s just bad writing.

Sky is adopted. He doesn’t resemble Erendor or Samara neither in appearance, nor in character and I hate them enough to headcanon that he was adopted but nobody knows because they don’t want to have claims that he is not an “official” heir of the throne because he isn’t part of the bloodline.

Mike and Vanessa are much more parents to Bloom than Marion and Oritel are, especially when the latter were first released from Obsidian, and the fact that Bloom starts calling them Mike and Vanessa instead of mom and dad after she learns she has other parents is abysmal. Also, they are literally the best parents ever and I love them to death. (I also like Marion and Oritel but Mike and Vanessa are definitely the superior pair of parents if we’re ranking them. I like the idea that the two couples are actually super close and love each other like relatives, in fact.)

What the fuck is up with the magic in this show? There is literally, like, NO FUCKING CONSISTENCY WHATSOEVER! You can’t blink without the rules of it changing in some way. But what am I saying? That would imply that there are any rules which is just not true. Also, there is no clear distinction of how powerful anyone is after season 1. The balance of powers especially between Winx and the Trix is pretty much whatever works for the episode. Same for Winx vs Valtor. The fuckery on that account is unreal. Plus, some of Bloom’s major power explosions happen due to her getting angry. According to the official Wiki - “While practicing or harnessing positive magic, one must keep a compassionate heart, primarily by keeping their thoughts and feelings clear of all negativity, making them capable of attracting positive energy more easily. Thus, if one is plagued with negative thoughts or feelings such as sadness, anger or fear, then their magic will grow   weaker until they may even be left incapable of casting magic until said feelings pass.“ Read that and then read it again, let it sink in. According to the rules of the Winx universe, during some of Bloom’s most powerful moments she was actually using dark magic, not light such because it was fueled by rage. Way to keep it fucking consistent. And that is not just Bloom! FLORA out of all people attacks the Trix in rage in 3x12 when they hurt her sister aka she was also using dark magic at that situation (and then you have Wizgiz scolding Mirta for it in SotLK like it is a sin to use dark magic, smh). In some instances I would argue that it was more of determination to protect rather than anger which I would say would still result in light magic. But The Flora thing, Bloom vs Stormy in 1x09 (Bloom even says she got so angry so that was not a case of protectiveness), Bloom vs Icy in 1x26 and Bloom vs Valtor in 3x14 were definitely rage aka dark magic. And then Bloom is all “fairies don’t have any demons”. Guess again, bitch! Also, writers, you need a dictionary to start comprehending the words you are actually writing?

Now that I think of it, the whole arc in the Resort Realm was bullshit. If it is a magic-free realm, nobody should have any magic in it, period! What is this bullshit that you can use Charmix and Gloomix there because they have higher magical energy? That absolutely doesn’t matter! If there isn’t any magic in the entire realm, having a higher amount of magic in you will not matter because you still can’t use it... because there isn’t any in the realm!!!!!! What the hell! Honestly, the writers can’t comprehend what words mean and that is not the only instance in which it shows.

Someone told me that SotLK is better than Magical Adventure and I don’t mean to offend but that is simply not true. Magical Adventure is leagues above SotLK even if it has some structural problems. Like, literally everything is better. Bloom and Sky are even likable and communicate!!!!!!!! Literally when have you ever seen a better moment for their relationship than in Magical Adventure? If it had been all like that, I would have liked them as a couple.

I think I got everything that comes to mind rn out. Might think of more at some point. I was done and then came back to rage some more because I remembered I had more material.

16. If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

I would have them make smart decisions because 99% of the shit they pull is so stupid it is unreal. I literally cannot tell how they are still alive. Oh, no wait! Plot armor. Yep, that’s it.

But if I had to pick something specific? Bring Nabu back. I sure as hell wouldn’t have killed him. That was an asshole move and I have no idea what the hell the writers were thinking when they wrote that.

And my second choice is - implement a magical system into the series because there isn’t one. Magic always works the way the writers need it to work to pull off their bullshit plot even if it contradicts everything that we’ve seen before. Please, for the love of god! Consistency is already dead; stop stabbing its corpse!!!!

20. What is the purest ship in the fandom?

Purest ship? Lmao, asking me this question is underhanded. XD If you mean no drama, then Flora and Helia Mike and Vanessa. But I think my actual answer would be Griffin x Faragonda because they have been through so much that we know of or we can deduce and they still stuck together. Sure, they had their ups and downs but it is obviously a love for life that has lasted through so many obstacles and keeps lasting. The reason why I can’t say the same for Mike and Vanessa is because we don’t really know that much about their relationship with each other. But anyway I love both these ships so much.

If you’re talking about a canon ship, though, then Brandon and Stella (I do not recognize the stupid relationship drama in season 4 as canon). He did lie to her about his identity in season 1 but it was for his friendship with Sky (alternatively, for his job and duty as Sky’s squire). I just love how obviously in love Brandon is with Stella and how much Stella doesn’t care about anything but him. She didn’t care that he was a “commoner” and - one of my fave moments - in 1x08 she only cared about his well-being rather than the competition. It was adorable and they are adorable and I love them so much. Pure serotonin, right there!

25. How would you end the Bloom searching for her parents storyline/Would you change the ending?

I would certainly change the logistics of the whole thing because, boy, did it make no sense at all. As for the actual ending, I’d argue that physically finding them is not the end of that storyline and she needs to “find” them emotionally as well which would definitely take more time than SotLK cared to address. Like, she got them out of Obsidian and boom, everything’s fine! She literally doesn’t know them! Those are her parents and she doesn’t know anything about them! Their touch and their voices are unfamiliar to her even and they have missed on so much that they will never be able to get back and you’re saying that everything is fine? Yeah, right.

I would have had her spend a year on Domino with them before season 4. The school year that started in SotLK? She spends that with them. Possibly even the one that starts in Magical Adventure as well. She learns everything she can about them and the family history. She also learns how to be a proper royal because she is the Crown Princess now and she has no idea what the fuck she is doing. I would have made seasons 4 and possibly 5 about that and added more politics in it. Layla and Stella are also princesses who will run their kingdoms one day so we could have had adventures in political relations with Winx Club. They are pretty famous so I am sure there would be rulers of other lands that see them as threats and don’t like them. There could have been tension about that and the whole thing with Domino being the planet of the Dragon Fire could have been addressed. Who would dare oppose them when they are the most powerful force? Are they the most powerful force after the 17 years the planet spent as an ice block? Are there old alliances to be reforged? What is the political climate in the Magic Dimension? All absolutely fascinating questions that would have helped the worldbuilding and made place for Marion and Oritel in Bloom’s life and in the show. We could’ve gone back to the feel of season 1 when they also had other things going on besides the big baddie of the season and it could have been a little more episodical with a loose theme to connect the season and the overarching story of Bloom finding her parents and her place in the world she was born in. That could have been positively epic... And a great way to retain the cast because the Company of Light were allegedly friends so we could have seen Marion and Oritel reconnecting with Griffin, Faragonda, Saladin and Hagen. There could have been resurfacing debates left over from the war. Kingdoms angry at Domino for something that happened back then in order to include flashbacks with the events. AND that would work out with the fact that the Ancestral Witches were still around and could have led to another epic battle that wouldn’t end with the destruction of a whole planet. Like I said, there were amazing possibilities... and they were all wasted.

Well, this was long... and just what I needed. I hope some (civilized) discussion will spark out of that because I am tired of screaming in a void and I want people to talk to me.

[yellowmagicalgirl]

Destiny’s Pawn

Douxie wants to never meet his soulmate. Krel isn't about to go searching for his own soulmate. Despite not realizing the meaning behind the names on their wrists, they meet anyways.

*slams a 38 page word document onto the nearest flat surface*

Here you go!

Content warning: This fic is rated M on AO3 and FFN for graphic depictions of bloody violence, dissociation, and panic attacks. In addition, this fic also contains dismemberment, mind control, suicidal ideation, minor character death, sleep deprivation, stress positions, and descriptions of poor medical practices.

AO3

FFN

Douxie is fourteen and sitting at his kitchen table, eating a bowl of instant ramen. This month has been going well. He’s been making new friends, one of whom is even a fellow wizard, he’s adjusting to the new time period, he hasn’t gone into any states of eerie numbness where he suddenly has no control of himself and commits violent acts, and it’s been a while since he has last had any flashbacks to Camlann. So, naturally, fate decides to make itself known once more and curse him with another prophecy.

Douxie is able to set his ramen down without spilling or burning himself when his right wrist explodes into light. Cyan light, to be specific, not the exact shade of blue that Douxie’s magic always seems to take.

Douxie doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to look, and yet he does. He has a soulmate, and he doesn’t want one. He ran away from his kingdom (further than he had intended, admittedly) and changed his name because he was sick of being destiny’s pawn, and yet destiny is still deciding to use him. And he laughs, mirthlessly.

At least the name of his soulmate isn’t a name that Douxie can read. He’s not even sure if it’s a human language, and Douxie doubts that the Trollish script has changed so much since he learned it as a child. Douxie isn’t even sure if he believes that aliens exist, not when magic is real and everyone else thinks that magic isn’t real. However, if his soulmate is an alien then that’s a good thing. The chances of Douxie ever meeting his soulmate are impossibly low. Douxie won’t have to worry about one day meeting his soulmate and having to push the guy away so the two of them don’t get hurt.

Douxie gets up and walks from his kitchen table to his dresser. It takes a while to open his top drawer, but it always takes a while. The wood’s warped, which is probably why the original owners got rid of it. When he finally gets it open, it doesn’t take long for him to find the two leather bracelets he had worn when he was younger. They’re slightly small on him, now, and Douxie will want to find a better replacement if he wants to keep the blood flowing in his right hand, but they cover up the name of his soulmate quite well.

No one will have to know. Not his classmates, not the guys in the band who’s name they still can’t decide on, and not Zoe and her talking cat, who will probably ask three times as many questions as everyone else.

Krel’s not sure when he started being jealous of his older sister. Maybe it’s when they started using serrators and Aja took to them so easily, and Papa seemed to value Aja’s skill at fighting more than Krel’s engineering feats. Which, admittedly, weren’t that good at that age, but they were children back then. Krel was still a genius compared to everyone his age, and everyone who was Aja’s age. And yes, Aja isn’t that much older than him, but considering how much she tries to lord it over him it may as well count.

Krel will admit that in the past three delsons since his wrist exploded into pale blue light, he has gotten much more jealous of his sister.

Krel thinks that Aja is very lucky. Aja’s soulmate is an Akiridion, and that makes things easier for her. Sure, Aja’s soulmate isn’t an Akiridion from a royal house, and it would technically be a scandal if Aja married her soulmate, who would be an ordinary Akiridion. Or, it would be an even bigger scandal if Aja’s soulmate was a Taylon. That doesn’t matter to Krel.

Aja doesn’t have Mama and Papa talking behind her back in hushed tones that sometimes cut out the moment anyone comes near. Aja doesn’t have Mama and Papa talking behind her back, trying to find the planet where the strange symbols on Krel’s lower right wrist are actually a name. Aja doesn’t have Mama and Papa talking behind her back about how maybe Krel’s interplanetary soulmate can be a way that Akiridion-V and this mystery planet can have an alliance. Aja may be older than him and technically just as much the heir to the throne as Krel is, but Aja is less of a political pawn than Krel is.

Krel can’t help but wonder if Mama and Papa actually love each other, or at least, if they loved each other when they got married. He can’t help but wonder if their marriage is, or at least was, entirely political. His parents are soulmates, and their marriage ended the feud between House Ventis and House Akraohm.

Krel doesn’t want to have to marry his soulmate for power, or to put an end to a fight.

Douxie will readily admit, dubstep and dolphin noises aren’t his thing, when it comes to music. He prefers emo, alternative rock, alternative metal, electronic rock, hard rock, industrial rock, the occasional pop rock and emo pop, gothic rock, symphonic metal, and hardcore punk. And, of course, trying to recreate lute music from his childhood on an electric guitar.

But the guy on stage, the one making or at least DJ-ing the dubstep? He’s mesmerizing. And not just because Douxie knows that Ash Dispersal Pattern actually has competition for once. There’s the way his eyes light up, and the way his hair falls in waves all the way down to his chin. The way the lights bounce off the guy is beautiful.

Maybe, after the battle is over, Douxie can find the guy, and…

Right. Douxie’s never really known how to talk to people, and even though he’s been slowly trying to memorize the social cues of this century he still feels like he’s even worse at talking to people than he was as a child. And that’s all without factoring in the fact that Douxie is even worse at talking to cute guys. He’s been told that he apparently flirts with girls, which really isn’t how he wants to come off, and yet he doesn’t know how to flirt with guys. It’s frustrating.

Douxie tries to think of ways he can maybe talk to the guy. Talking about music will probably be his best chance. And talking about music will be even on topic, not just awkwardly rambling because classmates expect him to make small talk.

And then, a girl wearing purple armor walks onto the stage. It’s Claire. She looks better than Douxie can remember seeing her, though considering that their track record has put Claire as possessed, sick, or on the verge of a mental breakdown anything is better. But, while tense, she looks… assured. Powerful.

She looks like how a wizard should, which honestly makes a lot of sense in hindsight.

Douxie has never figured out how to use his magic to open a telepathic link, but as he whistles and gives Claire two thumbs up he tries to communicate as much as he silently can to her. He’s like her. He understands what she’s going through. He can help her to understand her powers. He can introduce her to people, well, a girl and a cat that are like Claire and Douxie.

Claire starts to speak, and Douxie realizes that Claire’s armor is familiar. Familiar, like the more important knights, knights whose armor was enchanted to be more protective. Familiar, like his aunt. Familiar, like Merlin.

Douxie can’t ruminate on what this could mean, because the sun goes dark and there are Gumm-Gumms.

When the battle (the real battle, not just the Battle of the Bands) is over, Douxie is aware of three things. His skills have deteriorated in the three years since he fought his – in the years since he last used his magic to fight anyone. He was also unable to talk to Claire or the guy who did the dubstep.

Well, Arcadia Oaks is a small enough town. Hopefully he’ll be able to talk to one or both of them over the summer.

Krel waits until his sister and the other Akiridions are gone. He waits until Steve and Toby and AAARRRGGHH!!! are doing… something else. He waits until he can be sure that Ricky and Lucy are so engrossed in unpacking that they won’t follow him down into his lab. And then, he lets himself cry. It’s stupid. Crying hurts, and it makes him feel weak.

Krel remembers what Mother had said about crying when it first happened to Aja, and he just cries harder. He misses his parents, and he misses Mother. He misses his sister, and Varvatos, and they’re not dead. They’ve just gone back to Akiridion-V, where Aja is actually attending her own coronation as queen. Krel knows that his parents would have wanted him to attend. They would have wanted a lot of things for him, and Krel isn’t sure if he’ll be able to fulfill any of them.

Krel wipes his eyes with his wrist. It’s funny. His human form doesn’t have a name on either of his wrists indicating a soulmate, even though Krel’s soulmate is human. Probably. His soulmate could be a changeling, but his soulmate being human is more likely. Krel’s almost sure that Mother thought that by not giving them soulmates, they’d be even closer to invisible on Earth, especially Aja and Varvatos.

Krel has a good feeling as to what the name on his lower right wrist sounds like, and he could probably hack into the various governments of Earth, searching until he found out just who Mordred Pendragon is. Krel doesn’t do that, though. He wasn’t in any rush to find his soulmate during the three keltons between receiving the name and coming to Earth, and he isn’t in any rush to do so now. He’s seen the way Aja and Steve act around each other, and he doesn’t think he wants that right now. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever want that.

“Hey Krel?” Ricky calls. “Ship’s no going to clean itself.”

“Not yet, anyways!” Lucy says.

Krel sighs and goes to help clean.

Douxie supposes that it was probably better to be safe than sorry when it comes to fighting off whatever great evil is going to attempt to end the world for the fourth time this summer. Still, he doesn’t like the idea of being involved in one of Archie’s prophecies. The only saving grace is that if he has to be caught between two different fates, then at least he can fight off the worse of the two. Still, it’s annoying. Toby keeps on pestering Douxie and Zoe, asking them about how magic works and why the two of them haven’t tried to help out more, as if they haven’t been busy at their own school.

Well, what is he supposed to say? “I helped make your friend’s amulet” may be true, but it’ll reveal too many things about Douxie’s past. Too many things that Douxie has been trying not to think about.

No matter how reluctantly, Douxie, Archie, and Zoe have been working with Steve, Toby, and AAARRRGGHH!!! for the better part of four hours. The past several minutes have been consumed by fighting the first of the many foes that Archie has foretold. Specifically, it’s a group of constructs, suits of armor made of wood, crystal, and metal.

The fight could be going much better. Zoe doesn’t seem to have much combat experience, or at least, she keeps on picking the wrong spells to use on the various constructs. Douxie himself has decided to just use simple shielding spells with his left hand and to manifest a sleek black dagger in his right hand.

Parry. Sidestep. Advance. Douxie scoffs as the wooden construct dodges out of the way. A part of him knows that using a sword like the ones he trained with as a child will have a better reach, but the mere thought of using one causes him to lose his footing. The construct lunges.

It is consumed by cyan light.

Douxie looks up, and his lips part slightly in a gasp. He, just like the rest of Arcadia Oaks, has been made aware that extraterrestrials exist. However, he hasn’t seen any of them up close. No one has told Douxie that they are so beautiful.

The boy jumps off the floating skateboard, and both it and the gun he is holding collapse into themselves.

“Sorry for being late, the Blanks wanted me to help clean and didn’t let me use my phone.”

“Just had to play the big hero, right?” Steve asks the Akiridion.

“No, without Mother the ship isn’t repairing itself the way it used to.”

Zoe gives Douxie a pointed look, and he stops staring at… honestly, Douxie isn’t sure what the Akiridon boy’s name is.

Something inside of him tells him he should be cautious. He ignores that feeling; it must be fear from the world being supposedly about to end.

Though, as he complains to Zoe, it’s really not fair that Krel is so beautiful in both forms.

“Hand me the ixvali,” Krel said. While they would never be able to replace Mother herself, the repairs on the mother ship were almost done after half a parson, give or take a couple delsons. Well, time and the unexpected outside help.

“That one’s the half-monkey wrench, half swage looking tool, right?” Krel looks over at Douxie. For the briefest of moments, they make eye contact, but Douxie looks slightly away before it can become uncomfortable. But he does not fully turn his head to look away like he often does. There is a soft smile on Douxie’s face as he looks at Krel. For some reason, this makes Krel’s digestive organs flutter in a way that is uncomfortable and confusing but not painful.

Douxie is holding out the correct tool. In his right hand, not through levitation like he often does when people who don’t know that Douxie is a wizard aren’t around. Douxie had once mentioned that certain textures make him tense, which Krel understands. He feels the same way around random sounds, sometimes, which is why he often uses headphones when working. But he isn’t using any today.

Though, Krel has no idea why Douxie thinks the ixvali looked like one of the less intelligent of Earth’s native species.

Krel takes the ixvali from Douxie, and his fingertips brush against Douxie’s skin as he does so. The places where Krel’s skin meets Douxie’s tingle even after Krel removes them, and as Krel turns away his face feels slightly warm.

“You’re pretty good at this. Engineering, that is,” Krel says, trying to distract himself from his thoughts. He watches Douxie from the corner of his eye. “Where’d you learn?”

Douxie’s smile falls into a scowl, and for some strange reason with it so does Krel’s core. “An old friend of my father’s taught me. I cut contact with him a long time ago, though. After he betrayed my aunt.”

“I’m sorry.”

Douxie blinks a couple times. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

Douxie doesn’t like fighting knights. Likewise, he doesn’t like that they’re fighting Merlin. It brings back way too many bad memories of death and betrayal. Then again, even the good memories are tainted by Camlann, so he tries not to think about his past in general. There are reasons why he goes by a false name, after all.

But, if he doesn’t fight Merlin’s knights then his friends will have to fight them without him. It could be hubris, but Douxie is pretty sure that without him his friends will be badly injured or worse. And they will wonder why he didn’t defend him, which will lead to suspicion and questions, and…

It’s better that he just swallows his bile and panic in order to stand at his friends’ sides and fight.

Advance. Parry. Lunge. Keep an eye out for Toby, who’s been slightly off his game ever since AAARRRGGHH!!! left to help the other trolls several days ago.

As he stabs his dagger between the knight’s rerebrace and pauldron, the knight swings his flail into Zoe’s unarmored stomach. Douxie winces as she goes flying; he twists his dagger so the knight’s pain will increase.

And a beam of water crashes into the knight. Douxie dismisses his dagger into the aether as the knight gets pushed back. Let the water stimulate blood flow, for all he cares.

Douxie looks towards the source of the water, and his jaw drops slightly. Zoe’s ears and fingers are webbed, and there are iridescent scales on her face and arms. She reminds him of someone he hasn’t seen in years. Technically over a millennium, if he counts the years he wasn’t around for.

The knight crushes an emerald between his armored fingers, allowing him to escape back to wherever Merlin is hiding.

“You’re not human, either?” Krel asks.

Zoe wraps her arms around herself, her shoulders drawing in like she’s trying to make herself smaller than she already is. Like she’s embarrassed about her appearance or scared of someone’s reaction. Except, this time she seems to be scared of Douxie and the others.

“No, I’m…” She looks at her feet. “Archie can probably explain it better. Shit, he’s gonna be so mad. I’m the Lady of the Lake. Well, the latest one, anyways.”

Douxie remembers the first Lady of the Lake. Personally, he likes Zoe better.

Now would be a good time to tell people about his past. To reassure Zoe that she’s not alone in having magic from a kingdom that no longer exists.

“Cool,” he says instead.

The stars are very different from home. It makes sense. It’s a different number of lightyears for each different type of starlight to reach Earth than it is for Akiridion-V. The two worlds also have different amounts of light pollution.

Krel and Douxie sit in a comfortable silence, staring at the stars and listening to the water in the pool lap against the walls. Not that talking to Douxie is uncomfortable. Quite the opposite. With both humans and Akiridions, there is always some barrier between Krel and communicating with them. While that barrier still exists with Douxie, it is so much lower than with most humans.

It has been three delsons since they and Toby and Steve learned the truth about Zoe and comforted her and told her cat that he could trust them, that unlike previous incarnations’ so-called friends they would protect her. It has been three weeks since Krel decided to stay on Earth and met Douxie. The only work left for the mothership is to wait for the new AI to install itself. It won’t be Mother. It’ll be less sapient, and it will take keltons for the AI to be anywhere near Mother’s level. But the ship has been rebuilt as it ever will be able to, in the aftermath of Morando’s attack.

Douxie inhales, sharp and loud, and grabs Krel’s hand. Douxie’s hand is calloused and slightly damp from sweat. The contact feels like when Krel has accidentally electrocuted himself, except for how it inspires no fear. If anything, it’s comforting.

Krel looks at Douxie. In the low light, Krel can barely make out that Douxie’s face is red.

“I, uh, I don’t know how to say this because even though I feel like I don’t have to adhere to a script and social cues as much around you both of those would be helpful right now because I have a crush on you and I understand if you don’t feel the same but I just wanted to tell you,” Douxie says quickly, glancing at Krel before looking around awkwardly, like he’s trying to find a way to escape.

Krel smiles and leans against Douxie, cherishing the way their arms brush together. He’s in his human form, so he can feel the blood rush to his own face, highlighting his cheeks in cyan. “I do. Feel the same the way, that is.”

It’s their first date. Or at least, Douxie thinks this might be their first date? Krel might not see it as a date, since his culture might have different rules for dating. He’s not even sure if he and Krel have technically been dating for the past less-than-forty-eight hours since they confessed their feelings for each other, or if dating starts with the first date. This is so different than what little he learned about courting when he was younger.

Last night he swiped a few mints from the bowl of them at the restaurant before leaving work. Really, it might’ve been more than a few, but the night was winding down anyways. He’s now crunching on one of them in apprehension as he waits for Krel to arrive. It’s a way to try and get rid of the nervous energy that fills his bones. Not for their intended purpose of making your mouth smell better and not taste like your last meal, for the purpose of talking or personal comfort or even kissing someone after the date ends.

Douxie feels himself blush at the idea of kissing Krel. Holding Krel’s hand is intense and Douxie isn’t ready for their relationship to go quickly. They haven’t even talked much about how they want this to progress, or if they’re going to do anything to make their relationship official – do Akiridions even have the concept of making a relationship official?

Douxie wipes his palms on his jeans again. It’s the end of July, and once more he is reconsidering his choice to have nothing in his modern wardrobe but the color black aside from three band shirts, one of which he uses for sleeping. At the very least, maybe he should have left his hoodie at home. He hates the cold, because the cold reminds him all too much of Camlann, but it’s almost never cold in July and August except for in air-conditioned buildings, and this one isn’t.

At the very least, if he wore less black, maybe his hands would be sweating less. Or maybe it’d be the same, because he’s nervous and Krel is running late. It’s only late by thirteen minutes, but Douxie is already anxious. At least no one is giving him a weird look for sitting here alone, not having ordered anything, like he knows that people

Douxie once more checks his phone. There’s nothing. No Krel changing his mind, and no frantic texts from friends who have been attacked and need backup. No magical notifications of knights or constructs, either. He sets his phone to sleep but doesn’t shove it in his pocket. He tries not to worry as he scans his surroundings.

The coffee shop is quiet. There are a couple other people, and some annoying pop song is playing, but other than that it’s quiet. It’s late morning on a weekday, and this coffee shop has never been as popular as the chain one a block away with a drive thru.

Douxie unlocks his phone again, and scowls down at it. Why did he make the pattern so complicated to draw when only using one hand to both hold and unlock his phone?

Someone taps Douxie’s shoulder, and he looks up.

It’s Krel. There’s a sheen of sweat on his face. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, but strands all over have fallen out. He’s beautiful.

“Sorry I’m late,” Krel says, out of breath.

“It’s fine,” Douxie says, his scowl quickly fading into a smile. He rises from his seat, and the two of them go to stand in line to order drinks.

Seven minutes later, the two of the are sitting once more. Krel is telling a story from his childhood as he dumps his third and final sugar packet into his otherwise black coffee. “And then Luug came running in and tripped up Loth Saborian. Oh, uh, Luug’s mine and Aja’s pet soolian. Well, he’s more Aja’s than mine.”

“I thought he was her dog.” Douxie took a sip of his chai to try and cover up his awkward expression as he realized what he just said. “Though I guess that’s what your sister called him to blend in when he got loose?”

“Yeah, plus his transduction is a dog, though he wasn’t transducted when he swallowed my prototype. Um, that was when she was chasing him all over town. Did you ever have any pets?”

“My father had a dog when I was growing up; his name was Cavall. Which I found odd growing up, since his name meant horse. And, like, he was a hunting hound? Or at least he was before I was born, but he was getting old. But, I had thought it could get confusing. Maybe it was just me, though. So, anyways, what happened after Luug tripped your parents’ advisor?”

Twenty-seven horvaths after their date, Krel still feels oddly buoyant. He wonders if Douxie feels the same way.

Douxie is off working at his job at the bistro, and the rest of them are hanging out with Zoe as she works at the record store. She had poked him in the shoulder and told him not to shoplift, with a smile on her face. Krel had rolled his eyes, and now he is looking through the various albums while the others talk. If he finds an album with an interesting title, or even a song with an interesting title, he plays it on his phone, the volume low and muffled by his hand because he didn’t bring his headphones and earbuds feel so weird. It’s like research.

Toby sighs. “I hope I get my soulmate’s name soon. I’m pretty sure I’m, like, one out of the only three, maybe four, people in our year who doesn’t have one.”

“I mean, does Darci have her soulmate’s name yet?” Steve asks.

“No, she’s one of the other three to four people in our year,” Toby says, “but we also haven’t spoken much in the past week since she’s on vacation the other side of the planet right now. And she’s a couple months older than me.”

Krel glances at his oddly bare wrist as he looks up a band called Starset on his phone. He doesn’t want to meet Mordred Pendragon, whoever or wherever he is. Krel is very happy with Douxie, and he doesn’t want to meet his soulmate.

“Dude, I doubt she’ll break up with you even if it turns out that she has a soulmate who isn’t a huge furry.” Toby punches Steve in the arm.

“I mean, does it matter if you have a soulmate?” Zoe pipes up. “I mean, I don’t have one. Though, I’m not sure if it’s because I’m aro, or well, I’ve already got a mark on my arm stating my destiny.”

“Okay, but like, aren’t platonic soulmates a thing?” Toby asks. “And multiple?”

“Yeah, but studies have shown that aro-spec people have a higher tendency to not have soulmates than alloromantic people,” Zoe says. Krel wonders if this is true across species, or if he’s in the minority of demiromantics. “Also, multiple soulmates are, like really rare. Plus, I don’t want one anyways?”

“Hey, if you get your arm cut off above your tattoo thing, would you lose all your magic?” Steve asks, rubbing at where Eli’s name is on his wrist.

Zoe blinks a couple times, her voice lowering in volume. “Don’t know, don’t let Archie hear you say that; why do you ask?”

“Well, there’s the superstition that if you cut off the wrist that has your soulmate’s name, they’re no longer your soulmate,” Steve says in a low voice

“I mean, are we sure that wasn’t just something made up to dehumanize people who’d lost hands?” Toby asks.

Zoe shrugs. “Trust me, I don’t specialize in soul-based magic, and if I try Archie will never let me hear the end of it because it’s dark. But, yeah, I have no idea what magic goes on when it comes to lost hands and soulmates.”

Merlin has sent another knight after them along with a trio of constructs. This knight does not wear a helmet, so Douxie can see the knight’s identity. It’s Caradoc, but he seems strangely younger than how Douxie remembers. Maybe it’s the lack of stress from no longer having to run a kingdom. Maybe Camlann and everything that came after had been good for Caradoc and the kingdom of Gwent.

Douxie remembers being told when he was young that Camelot protected the other kingdoms from Gumm-Gumms and dark wizards, and yet despite that, many opposed it because its king had grown up under the care of a minor lord. Caradoc had been one of those in opposition, and Douxie had been told to remain cautious about him. Except, he hadn’t yet been Douxie then.

“Hand over Mordred,” Caradoc says, “and I’ll let most of you kids go.”

Douxie is keenly aware of the way sweat drips down the back of his neck as Toby and Steve give each other confused glances, Krel raises an eyebrow, and Zoe narrows her eyes.

“Who’s Mordred?” Steve asks. The sound of distant traffic covers Douxie’s relieved sigh as he realizes that none of them associate him with that name.

Krel shifts his serrator into its gun form, and Zoe sends a wall of water towards Caradoc. Douxie summons a dagger and a shield before he charges towards Caradoc.

Parry. Dodge. Parry. Lunge. Parry. Thrust. Adjust footing. Douxie focuses entirely on the fight in a way that would be dangerous if anyone else wanted to attack him.

Parry. Thrust. Adjust shielding spell. Douxie focuses on the fight, because if he allows himself to think about anything else his mind will focus on things that are dangerous to think about. Things like Camlann, and the three hazy days that followed where Merlin revealed the lengths he was willing to go to fight the Gumm-Gumms.

As Douxie’s dagger clashes against Caradoc’s sword, their eyes meet. Caradoc grabs Douxie’s shoulder, prolonging the painful eye contact.

“Should I tell them, or have you already told them, Mordred?” Caradoc says in a low voice. Douxie feels pressure wrap around his skull and numbness settle into his bone. “And should the Lady of the Lake find out before she dies?”

Mordred doesn’t think as he releases the shielding spell and flicks his fingers in the right way to summon a burst of bright blue light to distract Caradoc enough that Mordred can escape his grip. It’s muscle memory to change his dagger into a sword. Before either of them can recover, Mordred rams his sword up through Caradoc’s chest, using magic to bypass Caradoc’s armor.

Mordred dismisses the sword and lets Caradoc’s body fall. He has forgotten what it is like for another person’s blood to soak into his clothing. It is warm, too warm, warm enough that an icy coldness settles into the rest of his body. He was able to forget, to think that every time he woke up screaming and soaked in his own sweat that it was as bad as when he was covered in his father’s blood, but this is so. Much. Worse.

“First kill?” Toby asks, and Mordred can’t tell if his voice is suspicious or sympathetic. This is not Mordred’s first time killing another human being. This is the first time he has killed another human when he feels like his body and mind mostly belong to him.

Mordred hopes his trembling approximates to the proper kind of nod. He takes a few steps towards his friends, but he then turns away so he can violently expel the contents of his stomach into a nearby bush. He appreciates the way Krel grabs Mordred’s bangs and holds them away from Mordred’s face, even if his boyfriend looks disgusted. Hopefully by the vomit and not the fact that Mordred just killed someone. He isn’t even sure if it was entirely to save his best friend or to save himself from everyone else’s judgement. Maybe he didn’t have to kill Caradoc. He could have incapacitated him. Maybe.

Mordred stands up, wipes his mouth on his sleeve, and grimaces. “I’m going to go home and get ready for work,” he says quickly. Hopefully not too quickly. His friends give him what he hopes are sympathetic looks, and he runs off.

He locks himself in his apartment and rips off his soiled clothes. He brushes his teeth to get rid of the taste of vomit as he waits for the water to heat up; while he wants to be free from the feeling of blood on him he doesn’t want to be cold, because being cold means the memories of stabbing through his father’s chest will feel so much more real because Mordred had been cold when he killed his father.

Mordred removes his watch and his bracelets before he tests the water’s temperature with one hand. As he does so, the cyan writing that has been on the inside of his wrist for three years catches his eye. He has spent enough time with Krel to know that the script is Akiridion. Something between a maniacal laugh and a pitiful sob bursts from his lips. He loves Krel. Krel can’t be his soulmate, though, because a soulmate is another prophecy, and the last prophecy involving Mordred didn’t end well. It ended in him dissociating into a state of eerie numbness where he couldn’t control his body and he killed his father by stabbing him through the chest. Just like he stabbed Caradoc through the chest.

But, but Krel had mentioned that while the population of Akiridion-V is smaller than Earth, the amount of Akiridions in the universe is about four and a half times the number of humans. And Akiridions aren’t the only ones who used the Akiridion script. So, it is entirely possible that Krel isn’t Mordred’s soulmate. It’s possible that fate won’t make Mordred kill Krel.

Mordred finishes undressing and enters the shower, twisting his body to soak up as much heat as possible. Because he hasn’t stopped trembling, he can’t tell if he’s sobbing or if soap has just gotten in his eyes.

When Douxie finally exits the shower once more, his skin is raw from scrubbing, heat, and in some areas just how much he had scratched at it, trying to escape the phantom feeling of someone else’s blood.

“Are you alright?” Krel softly asks his boyfriend as the two of them meet up in front of Zoe’s house. “After everything that happened yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Douxie says as he stares at the sidewalk. “Well, I’ve been better, but I’m doing better than yesterday.”

Krel squeezes Douxie’s hand once before dropping it as they step through the door. The two of them are the last to arrive. Steve, Toby, and Zoe are talking in hushed voices, but they stop before Krel can hear what they’re saying. Archie bats at one of Douxie’s shoelaces, nearly tripping them. They take their seats at Zoe’s kitchen table. It’s cramped, and the chairs don’t match, like normally there are only three chairs.

“Okay, so, Mordred,” Zoe says. “A basic Wikipedia search will tell you he’s the son of King Arthur, and he grew up to kill Arthur at a place called Camlann. But that’s where things start to go awry. Mordred practically killed Arthur in cold blood, and he was also Merlin’s apprentice, which means that he should be an enemy of ours. Except, we don’t know where he is, and I don’t think Merlin knows where he is either.” She turns in her chair towards Archie. “Uh, am I missing any details?”

Douxie twists his skull pendant on its string.

Archie raises his head from his bowl of cat food and swallows before speaking. “Mordred did everything he’s infamous for prior to my birth, so it’s not like I can provide you with fine details. Oh, stop giving me that look, I’m not that ancient. But, your memories from the first Lady of the Lake are more accurate.” Archie walks over to the table and hops on top of it. “The one thing I can tell you is that soon after killing Arthur, Mordred disappeared. In fact, until you came to me with this information, I had thought he was dead. And if he’s alive, then why hasn’t he come out of hiding until now?”

Krel flips the clasp to his watch back and forth, trying not to cringe.

“Okay, but why would that knight have thought he was with us?” Steve asks.

Toby shrugs. “Maybe Merlin thinks Mordred turned against him and took refuge with us? I mean, about half of our oldest troll allies – in terms of being on our side, mind you – all tried to kill me and… and Jim, at one point or another.”

Douxie sits up straight. He stares very intently at where some dishes are drying. “I mean, maybe we can use this against Merlin? I mean, maybe Merlin did something that made, er, Mordred turn against him. And maybe Mordred is so against Merlin that, that he’d be willing to work with. Us.”

Everyone stares at Douxie before Zoe clears her throat. “Are you forgetting the whole ‘killed his dad in cold blood’ thing? We wouldn’t be able to trust Mordred not to kill us in the hypothetical scenario that he hates Merlin.”

Douxie slouches down into his chair, twisting one of the white strings of his hoodie between his fingers.

“Hey, what’s Mordred’s family name?” Krel asks slowly, using his right hand to twist the watch on his left hand.

“Pendragon,” Zoe says. “Why?”

Krel sighs. “Mordred Pendragon is my soulmate.”

Douxie inhales sharply.

Toby makes a disgusted face that quickly turns into confusion. “Wait, but you don’t have a name on your wrist. Or is it under your watch?”

Krel pulls out his serrator and changes back into his Akiridion form. “It’s just not on my human form.” He rolls up his lower right sleeve to expose his soulmate’s name. Zoe, Toby, Steve, and Archie all lean in to stare at it with morbid curiosity. Douxie stays sitting the exact same way he has been, but one of his eyelids twitches.

“Could we, I don’t know, track him through Krel?” Toby asks. Douxie pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it. Krel finds it sweet that Douxie’s home screen is a picture of Krel.

“Dark. Magic,” Zoe and Archie say in unison. Douxie opens his texting app but does not exit from the groupchat that five teenagers sitting at this table use.

“Hey, uh, my manager wants me to come in early today, I need to go,” Douxie says. He leaves too quickly for Krel to call him out on his lie.

Krel finds him hours later, during Douxie’s actual shift at GDT Arcane Books.

Mordred sighs. He doesn’t want to do this. He has to do this to save Krel’s life. Behind the counter, he casts a quick illusory spell.

“You didn’t need to come in early,” Krel says. “I saw your phone.”

Mordred stays silent.

“Why’d you lie about it?” Krel asks. “Are you – is this because you’re not my soulmate?”

“Yes.” No, quite the opposite. He is Krel’s soulmate. While unrequited soulmates do exist, it is far more likely that Krel is Mordred’s soulmate. Which means that Krel is in danger. Prophecy and Mordred put together is dangerous.

“Look, I knew you weren’t my soulmate when we got together, so why does it matter?”

“It, it does.”

“You’re being really petty. And shallow.” Krel’s voice raises with each word.

“Okay. Are you done?”

“Well, do you have anything to say?”

“I made a mistake.” Krel’s face softens, and Mordred forces venom into his own voice even though he doesn’t want to hurt Krel. “I should have never fallen for you. And had I known the truth about you and, you and Mordred, I would have never let myself fall for you.”

Krel’s glare returns with a vengeance. “I can’t believe you. When Merlin’s defeated, I never want to speak to you again!”

As Krel storms out of the bookstore, Mordred releases the spell that he used to hide the tears in his eyes.

Krel wants to just lie on his bed and read through old blueprints with a recording of the common sounds of Akiridion-V playing in the background. He wants to lose himself in engineering, so he won’t have to think about Douxie and Mordred. Technically, he had just wanted to lay on his bed face-down when he had gotten home, but Krel has found that doing so doesn’t stimulate his brain enough and without stimulation all of his thoughts go to his now-ex-boyfriend.

But his phone gives him an alert. He’s getting a call from Akiridion-V. And so, with a groan, he drags himself out of his bed and into the lower portion of the Mothership, where the video call center is.

“Hi, Krel!” Aja says. She looks exhausted, but she is still so cheerful that some of Krel’s own misery fades away.

“Hi. How’s life as queen?”

“Busy. So, so, so very busy. I wish I had listened more to Mama and Papa.” She looks away from him, face falling.

“Me, too,” Krel says softly. It’s not hard for him to believe they’ve been dead for so long, though. Aside from the few short moments, they had been reduced to their cores. They had been practically dead, and the mourning wasn’t as hard. But Krel isn’t constantly surrounded by reminders of his parents. He has other things to worry about, like –

No, Krel is not thinking about his ex right now.

“It doesn’t help that some of the lesser royal houses think that I’m not ready, considering that I ran away from the first coronation.”

“Yeah, you kind of brought that on yourself.”

“But, anyways, enough about me,” Aja says, her smile returning. “You had some non-urgent but important good news a couple delsons ago? And I’m sorry I didn’t have time before, but I do now!”

Krel feels his own face fall. “I… I had wanted to tell you that I had a boyfriend, but, he broke up with me two horvaths ago.”

“Oh, Krel, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to come back and beat him up for you?”

“No, I handled it. I just… before today, he’s never been so shallow. He broke up with me because he found out I’m not his soulmate.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to beat him up for you? Or send Varvatos to do so?”

“No, Aja. By the way, have you told Steve about your own soulmate? And speaking of him, how is Varvatos?”

Parry. Adjust footing. Advance. Shove phone back into hoodie pocket because that was a stupid place for Douxie to put his phone when he knew he was running towards a fight. Step out of the way for Zoe to get the finishing blow.

“Anyone else think that construct was oddly weak?” Steve asks. The five of them are crowded into one of Arcadia’s alleys, having gotten up relatively early to go fight it. Krel had given Douxie a murderous glare, and afterwards had just ignored Douxie.

Mordred is very tempted to beg for Krel’s forgiveness, but no. It’s safer this way. If they don’t spend time together, the likelihood of Mordred killing his soulmate goes down.

“Don’t you dare jinx us,” Toby says.

“I mean, Steve’s kind of –” Zoe starts before she gets blown back by a wave of magic. So do Krel, Steve, and Toby. Only Mordred is left standing.

Mordred, and Merlin, who drops the spell he was using to keep Mordred and the others from noticing him.

“Kneel,” Merlin commands.

A coldness spreads through Mordred’s limbs. He mindlessly walks forward, ready to follow this command and kneel in front of his master. Douxie shakes it off and breaks into a run. As he does so, his phone falls out of his hoodie pocket, but he pays it no mind.

Mordred attempts to stab Merlin with his dagger, but Merlin parries with the Staff of Avalon. Glowing green ropes force Mordred into a kneeling position.

Mordred looks behind himself. Scales are flickering on and off of Zoe’s skin, and the construct has come back to life and is trying to entrap her within it. Everyone else is trying to pry her out. Mordred fights against his bonds, trying to escape them so he can help Zoe.

“For all of his faults,” Merlin says, “your father never lost the humility that came with not having been raised a prince. Unlike you, Mordred.”

In the background, one of his friends – or at least, former friends, now that they know – gasps.

Upon hearing his name, Mordred tries to hang his head in shame. Merlin places the Staff of Avalon under Mordred’s chin and forces Mordred to look at Merlin. Mordred tries to avoid his former master’s gaze, but Merlin helped to raise Mordred. Merlin knows how Mordred will try to avoid eye contact by faking it, by looking at people’s eyebrows, forehead, cheeks, or nose. Merlin knows that Mordred finds prolonged eye contact painful, and so he’s using this against Mordred.

Mordred hears Toby exclaim something, and footsteps behind him, but he can’t make them out any further due to the ringing in his ears.

Merlin removes his staff from under Mordred’s chin and slams the butt of it into the ground, sending the two of them away from the battle.

They make their way to Zoe’s house. Krel gets the feeling that everyone else is also reeling from the battle, if for possibly different reasons.

“Are you alright?” Archie asks, curling his body around Zoe’s legs. She picks up her familiar. She looks like she wants to hug him, but she holds him in front of her instead.

“Did. You. Know?” Zoe asks.

Archie nods gravely. “Yes, I warned you years ago about how Merlin will try to bind you if he ever found you. He did so to… to far too many of your predecessors. I am so glad you’re not imprisoned.”

“I… no, did you know that Douxie is Mordred?” She then hugs Archie to her chest. Her arms shake as she does so.

“He’s what?” Archie climbs to her shoulder and looks around at the four of them. “Again, I wasn’t born yet. If what your saying is true, then you met him before I did. Then again, the two of you always did act like cousins, so it makes sense. But where is he?”

“Merlin took him,” Toby says, one of his hands curling into a fist. With the other he takes Douxie’s phone out of his pocket and places it on the table. “And it’s not like we’ll be able to contact him.”

“It doesn’t make sense, though,” Zoe says, not really looking at any of them. “Mordred’s supposed to be bloodthirsty and back during freshman year Douxie nearly had a panic attack while trying to take care of me because I accidentally sliced my finger open.”

“Well, maybe Douxie isn’t Mordred and Merlin made a mistake by calling him that?” Krel offers. Douxie can’t be Mordred, because Mordred is Krel’s soulmate and Douxie broke up with Krel because Douxie isn’t Krel’s soulmate.

“How did Douxie respond to being called Mordred?” Archie asks. “Did he try to refute this at all.”

“No, he just kind of collapsed in on himself,” Zoe says.

Toby smiles weakly at Krel. “Well, at least your soulmate isn’t some creepy old dude who likes killing people?”

“But, he can’t be. If Douxie is Mordred, and he’s known that he’s Mordred, then why did he break up with me yesterday?”

“Wait, he broke up with you?” Toby asks.

“I told you two that they had gotten together, pay up,” Steve says.

“We never actually made that bet,” Zoe says.

“You three bet on us?” Krel is in his human form and he isn’t sure if he wants to cross his arms or put them on his hips.

“We didn’t agree to it,” Toby and Zoe say almost in unison.

“But anyways, he broke up with you?” Toby says.

“Yeah. Douxie was mad that Mordred is my soulmate. And it doesn’t seem like him to be so mad that he’s not my soulmate, but it makes more sense than him being mad that he is my soulmate and lying about it.”

They teleport to a fort with stone walls and floors. Jim walks up to them, movements stilted like a puppet. His eyes are glowing green.

“Take him to the antimagic cell for now while I prepare,” Merlin says.

Jim grabs Mordred by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to his feet. Jim then pushes Mordred to start walking down the hall.

Mordred’s hands tremble with a nervous energy. He narrows his eyes and begins to try to do the hand movements inherent to the first spell he ever cast. It’s more difficult to cast it in a stealthy fashion, considering that the first time he ever cast the spell he hadn’t even been trying to cast spells. He hadn’t even known he was a wizard back then; he was just a three-year-old who would flap his hands whenever he got excited, and that day he had managed to flap them in such a way that caused his magic to ignite.

After slightly less than a minute, Mordred’s hands erupt into balls of blue fire. Unfortunately, Jim does not startle from this. Instead, he just pulls a dagger from his armor and hold it to Mordred’s throat. Mordred lets the fireballs dissipate into nothingness.

“Okay, I won’t do that,” Douxie says. “But seriously, Jim, you need to fight this. I know we don’t know each other that well, but surely you don’t want to be doing this?”

Jim remains mind controlled as he throws Mordred into the antimagic cell. Literally throws. Mordred knows he’s going to have bruises from the impact.

The cell door swings closed quickly, but an armored hand catches it. It’s not Jim. It’s the knight that had hit Zoe with a flail, forcing her to reveal the source of her magic. He’s not wearing his helmet.

“Agravaine?” Mordred says, forcing himself to sit up even though it will likely be more comfortable to continue lying on the floor. He wonders if he hit his head, because his cousin is apparently still alive after all these centuries. “You changed your armor.”

“You know, I thought you were finally starting to get smart, when you killed your father and all that,” Agravaine says. “Clearly you’re still a dumb kid.”

“Are Gawain, Gaheris, and Gareth still alive?” Mordred asks. Agravaine scowls, like it’s Mordred’s fault that he had found his other three Orkney cousins more interesting and fun to be around when he was growing up. Personally, Mordred had liked Agravaine better than their cousin Ywain le Fay, but if Agravaine is working for Merlin then Ywain is now his second-to-least favorite cousin on his father’s side.

“No,” Agravaine says. “Gareth and Gaheris were killed by Gumm-Gumms. Gawain, on the other hand, he made the mistake of opposing Merlin.” Agravaine lets go of the cell door, letting it continue swinging close. “But if it’s any help, I’m sure Merlin has a better use for you than death.”

“Just, why didn’t he tell us?” Zoe asks.

“I think he tried,” Steve says. Everyone looks towards him. “Yesterday, Douxie tried to get us to believe that maybe Mordred would be willing to help us.”

“He was stuttering a lot,” Archie says.

“Exactly!” Steve says. “I mean, without any proof his idea of Mordred being on our side sounded kind of crazy, but I think he was trying to, you know, test the waters? See if it was safe to reveal himself? Kind of like how Aja did with me. And we completely blew it. Now, him being weird and breaking up with you for being his soulmate while claiming the opposite, I’m getting a headache just thinking about it, but everything else? I think he was trying to get us to help and we didn’t help him.”

Zoe sighs. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Krel nods in agreement.

“I’m going to call Claire,” Toby says. “Let her know what to look out for, see if she has any intel, see how she, Blinky, and my Wingman are doing when it comes to protecting the trolls from Merlin. See how she’s healing from Merlin cutting off her hand – I hope Merlin doesn’t try doing that to Douxie, especially since it might be harder to get his hand back than it was with Claire. By Deya, I want him to stop hurting my friends.”

And getting Claire’s hand had led to Merlin controlling Jim.

“We’ll save him,” Krel vows.

Douxie isn’t sure how long he’s been kept in the antimagic cell, alone with only his memories to plague him. Well, that, and one very stale piece of bread that Agravaine tossed at Mordred’s head.

Jim opens the door to the cell, and gestures for Mordred to come out. Jim never enters the cell. Douxie wonders if entering the cell will free Jim.

Maybe Mordred should feel guilty for having made the amulet. Sure, the amulet ensured that the Gumm-Gumms, the beings who killed two of Mordred’s parents and two of Mordred’s cousins, were finally defeated, but it’s also being used to control Jim. But he’s too exhausted to think about it. He’s exhausted from being completely cut off from his magic, so Mordred doesn’t fight back. He just goes to wear Jim leads him.

It’s a small room, but it’s larger than Douxie’s cell. Jim shuts the door behind Mordred, leaving him alone with Merlin. Merlin has his back to the entrance. A set of papers float in front of him. One set older, one set newer. Nearby, a sword is being sharpened with magic.

Mordred swallows down his bile. It’s Excalibur, out of its sheath. His father didn’t unsheathe Excalibur when he fought Mordred at Camlann.

In the center of the room is a stone pillar.

Merlin flicks a hand, and Mordred is dragged towards the pillar by magic. Ropes twist themselves around his arms, legs, and torso. His upper right arm is on the pillar. Mordred is able to twist his head to try and see the papers.

He’s seen the set of old papers before. He first saw them soon before he accidentally sent himself to the twenty-first century. Actually, they’re what truly inspired him to run away from Merlin. They’re the plans to the Amulet of Daylight.

The newer papers look like plans for an amulet.

Mordred remembers how Claire nearly lost a hand to Merlin, and how even now it’s still healing from the dismemberment.

“Please don’t do this,” Mordred pleads as he tries to force himself not to hyperventilate. “I can help you in other ways.”

Merlin grabs Excalibur. “You should have thought of that centuries ago. Besides, you’d be surprised by how hard it is to find wizard hands.”

Mordred glares at Merlin and tries to summon his magic. Lightning, fire, anything. But he hasn’t recovered from the antimagic cell, so he can’t fight back. He still strains against his bindings.

“Fine, have it your way and fight back,” Merlin says. “It’ll only hurt worse.”

As Merlin brings down Excalibur, Mordred’s last thought before painful oblivion takes him is that he can almost understand why Aunt Morgana turned on everyone.

But only almost.

It’s been a long two delsons since Merlin took Mordred. They’ve tried to cover up Douxie’s disappearance. Zoe with illusory magic, Krel with a hastily thrown together transduction, and Toby and Steve with a shared glamour mask. That, and the fact that Douxie’s phone got left behind. They’ve seen him unlock it enough times that it isn’t too hard to hack, though the pattern is annoyingly complicated.

Krel sighs. He’s supposed to meet up with Zoe in a few horvaths, to try and find a way to upgrade their weapons and armor. Well, everyone else’s weapons and armor, considering that Krel’s doesn’t need upgrading. They don’t know where Mordred, Jim, and Merlin are, but they’ll need to be stronger if they want to be able to ever fight Merlin to get their friends back. For now, though, he’s sitting in his room, sipping at a glass of juice that Lucy gave him.

An idea comes to him. It’s technically a violation of privacy, but Krel and the others have already been through Douxie’s phone. Krel’s desire to check Mordred’s wrist can’t be any worse. It’s just a selfish desire for Krel to see his own name on his ex’s wrist.

Krel activates the transduction that makes him look like Douxie. Krel’s name should be on Mordred’s right wrist, underneath the bracelets he always wears. The bracelets don’t budge.

Krel doesn’t get why he’s so disappointed when he returns to his Akiridion form. He should’ve known that the bracelets wouldn’t move. It’s a very basic transduction, only meant to fool people who won’t look too closely. People who don’t know Douxie’s mannerisms and won’t touch enough Douxie to notice that his clothes won’t move from his body. It’s meant to keep people from missing him.

It doesn’t stop Krel from missing Douxie. Krel frowns. He doesn’t want to miss Douxie. He isn’t fine with his ex being held captive by Merlin, but he also doesn’t want to miss him. He wants Douxie to be safe, and maybe a little miserable without Krel. He wants Mordred to be regretting his decision to break up with Krel. He wants an apology, and an explanation. But Krel doesn’t want to miss Douxie, he wants to try and ignore Douxie’s entire existence. Except, even when Krel and Douxie had just broken up, Krel hadn’t been able to ignore him. Krel isn’t sure if he’d be able to ignore Douxie like he wants to be able to, even if Douxie was safe and far from Merlin and not Mordred. Krel can’t stop thinking about Douxie, because…

Because…

“I love him,” Krel admits quietly to his empty room. Krel sits on his bed, one hand over his core. A single tear rolls down his cheek. Despite everything that Mordred has supposedly done, Krel loves him. Despite how much Douxie has hurt Krel by breaking up with him, Krel loves him. Or maybe that’s why he’s so hurt by the breakup, because Krel has never loved anyone the way he’s loves Douxie before.

Krel wipes his eyes with his lower right hand. He then rolls down the sleeve of that arm and presses his lips to where Mordred’s name has been on Krel’s wrist for three keltons.

Krel lowers his arm and chuckles a little, feeling silly for what he has just done.

He isn’t ready to forgive Douxie for how he hurt Krel, but maybe, just maybe, the two of them can go back to being on speaking terms after they rescue Mordred.

Mordred keeps his arms against his chest. Each time he hears footsteps pass by the dim cell that Merlin is keeping him in, Mordred finds himself switching which arm is crossed over the other even though doing so aggravates his injury. He can’t decide which arm he wants to be closer to any impending attack. His right arm feels useless, and it’d be better to use it to protect his left arm. However, he can’t bear the thought of his right arm getting any more hurt. He hasn’t been given painkillers, not pills, potions, spells, or even theriac, though the last of those might be hard to come by in this century. He certainly hasn’t been able to heal himself; an iron cuff has replaced his wristwatch and has locked away his ability to cast spells. The closest he has to a painkiller is the numbness that comes from having been locked in a small, dim cell for what feels like a very long time with nothing to distract himself with other than distant footsteps.

He supposes that the cuff better than the antimagic cell, because the inability to access his magic doesn’t feel as oppressive. Also, Jim has actually been handing the stale bread to him instead of just throwing it at him. But in the antimagic cell he wasn’t chained to a wall by his left arm. In the antimagic cell he could walk around more than two paces. In the antimagic cell he still had two hands.

Perhaps Mordred should consider himself lucky that he had been given bandages, not left to bleed out. Then again, luck is another form of fate, and fate is never on his side. Merlin probably has something planned for Mordred. Something horrible. Perhaps Merlin will harvest Mordred’s left hand as well, and then go on to harvest other parts of his body for spell components..

He can’t just be bait. Perhaps he thinks of himself as too important, but it doesn’t seem right. If Douxie is just bait, then Merlin wouldn’t have revealed Mordred’s identity to everyone else. Merlin would know that Zoe would hate Mordred and would lead the others in hating Mordred even if he had been their friend. If Douxie is bait, then he will fail at the role Merlin was forcing him to play. No one will come for him.

His friends hate him.

His soulmate is grateful that he doesn’t have to look at Douxie, if they’re even soulmates anymore.

His only living family are a cousin who’s never really liked him (and whom he’s never really liked back), and a genocidal aunt trapped in another dimension. Honestly, Aunt Morgana’s more likely to kill Mordred as she razes Merlin’s stronghold than she is to rescue Mordred. Never mind that once Mordred had found the list of ingredients Merlin had used for the amulet, Mordred had run away. He hadn’t been able to apologize to his aunt for everything involving her lost hand in a timely manner because he had accidentally sent himself forward in time about a millennium and a half, but she won’t take his excuses. Besides, she probably won’t recognize him; she hadn’t recognized him back when she had been possessing Claire. So why would she save him?

No one will save Douxie.

Mordred hears footsteps, and he recrosses his arms.

 “I am so glad you’re finally taking an interest in your past,” Archie says as he half reads, half lies on top of the plans that Krel and Zoe have drawn up.

“I’ve ‘taken an interest’ in artificing work before,” Zoe says.

“You wanted to make a magical flamethrower. Honestly, given that three of your uncles are firefighters and both your father and grandfather worked in a chemical plant, I wouldn’t be surprised if a mild case of pyromania runs in your family,” Archie says. “Really, you’re the Lady of the Lake, not the Lady of the Bonfire.”

“Some planets have lakes of fire,” Krel provides. Archie glares at him, stands up, and walks to sit directly in the doorway. Zoe just rolls her eyes.

“By the way, why does your armor need to have pink and blue ribbons?” Krel asks. No one else is getting anything as fanciful. Toby’s armor is being upgraded to be more like Jim’s in that Toby will be able to put it on in a flash of light. Steve is going to be getting a helmet and breastplate, and also an axe, all of which will be collapsible. He has broken far too many baseball bats when fighting constructs; it’s time for him to get a real weapon.

“Because in combination with the armor being silver, it’s trans rights,” Zoe says. “Also, I probably watched way too many magical girl shows when I was a kid. I mean, that was one of things that was actually cool about getting the Lady of the Lake powers. I thought I was getting a cool, supportive black cat that would actually be a useful and effective guide.”

“I can hear you,” Archie says.

Zoe ignores him. “That, and just the gender affirming part. By the way, Krel, are you sure you don’t want to do any upgrades?”

“I’m fine with just my serrator. I mean, it’d be nice to work on my portable wormhole generator, but we need weapons and armor. Besides, I’m more durable than the rest of you.”

Zoe frowns. “Sure, I just don’t want you to get hurt when we go to save Doux… Mor… ugh, I don’t know what to call him.”

“I’m sure we can ask him when we rescue him.” Krel hopes they can do so soon.

For once, it’s Agravaine dragging Mordred out of his cell. Literally dragging. At least Jim had left Mordred with some dignity left by allowing him to walk. Agravaine had taken the chain binding Mordred to the wall and is using it to drag Mordred along at a demanding pace. Or perhaps it’s a normal pace, and Mordred’s limbs are just not used to being able to move this long. Mordred does not know how much time he has spent shackled to a wall. He does not know how long it has been since he lost his hand.

He doesn’t dare to ask. When he was a child, Merlin told Mordred that he asked too many questions. Mordred doesn’t dare ask any now, for fear of punishment.

Agravaine takes Mordred back to the room where he lost his hand. Mordred tries not to hyperventilate as he looks around for a source of escape. Agravaine attaches the chain to the wall and leaves the room.

Excalibur isn’t in the room, but that does not give Mordred any comfort. Merlin might keep it with him. He might also keep it in some sort of pocket dimension. Not that Mordred can remember Merlin ever using that sort of magic. It had always been Aunt Morgana using magic inherent to alternate dimensions.

Then again, according to Krel there were more than three spatial dimensions, so maybe shadow magic isn’t needed to access them. Mordred misses Krel and everyone else so much. He doesn’t deserve to miss them, though. Especially not Krel. He doubts they miss him. They think he’s a ruthless, bloodthirsty killer. They hate him. Mordred doesn’t blame them. He hates himself, too.

Merlin enters the room. One of Merlin’s hands is empty. The other is clasped around something.

Merlin releases the shackle around Mordred’s wrist. Immediately, Mordred can feel his magic begin to return to his body. Before Mordred can attempt to cast any spells, Merlin’s hand wraps around Mordred’s throat. Merlin then places something circular and cold against Mordred’s chest. As Merlin removes his hand from Mordred’s throat, there is a flash of green light.

Mordred feels a numbness wrap around his skull and armor wrap around his body.

He doesn’t feel like Mordred anymore.

He doesn’t feel like Douxie anymore.

He doesn’t feel like a person.

He feels cold.

This feeling is familiar, and he is terrified.

The construct they were sent to fight was incredibly weak. Or maybe the upgrades to their weapons and armor are just that strong. Either way, after Merlin’s ambush Krel is nervous about weak constructs. He gets the feeling that the others are as well. All four of them look around, making sure there is no other threat.

It’s rare that any of them have seen one of the knights or the constructs actually teleport in front of them, but it always starts the same way. Smoke begins to swirl in the floor. As it rises, it glows with green light, and when it clears the knight or construct is there.

Mordred is there. He wears black armor. His helmet has a dragon with outstretched wings on it, and his pauldrons, knee-guards, and elbow-guards all look like wings. There are wings on the armor’s tasset as well. Mordred’s hands are completely encased in armor, and the guards on his knuckles are similar to the ones on his other joints. An amulet glows on Mordred’s chest plate with a poisonous green light, and the brightness of the carvings in his armor seem to correspond to how close they are to the amulet. The amulet looks like Jim’s, but the hands resemble wings. In addition, the amulet is about a third of the size of Jim’s.

His eyes are black and green and glowing.

Krel moves to take a step towards Mordred, but Toby puts his arm out and steps to the front.

“So,” Toby says. “You’re still too much of a coward to actually face us, so you’re going to keep using my friends as a shield.”

“I’m sorry,” Mordred says. His voice sounds pained and so very tired.

Toby’s expression changes from determined to terrified. Mordred’s hands open from the fists they had been clenched into. He waves his left hand in an arc, and five floating daggers appear in the air. He reaches out his right arm, and a sword appears in his hand. The crosspiece of the sword and daggers all have the same wing motif.

He lunges forward, and everyone has to scatter from formation to avoid the daggers.

Krel has fought Douxie before in practice spars. So have the others. Douxie rarely won, because he was always cautious while fighting them. Like he was afraid of hurting them.

The way that Douxie fights now is far more ruthless. It’s not the exact way that Douxie fights knights and constructs, because Douxie would be precise with his dagger and shield. He’d have to be, without armor and the reach of a sword. Worse, it’s not just an improvement to Douxie’s weapons and armor. He casts spells that create light and fire.

What Mordred loses in accuracy he more than makes up for in precision. Every strike makes Krel thankful that he and Zoe upgraded everyone’s armor.

But armor can’t fully save them. Sure, Mordred can’t pierce into the armor’s gaps because he can’t see them, but the armor doesn’t fully cover any of them. And too late, Krel realizes that Steve should have some sort of guards on his arms.

Right before Steve’s arm can be reduced to a bleeding mass of ribbons, the daggers twist so that the flat end hits them. And yes, being hit by them probably still hurts, but not as much as it would have.

Mordred places his left hand on his sword’s hilt. His jaw shifts, like he’s gritting his teeth.

Like he’s fighting back against Merlin.

Afterwards, the fight is slightly easier. Yes, Mordred now has more power to the blows, but he has more control. The fight is not easy enough for any of them to try and ask Mordred how to save him.

A single tear rolls down Mordred’s face as he stops himself from slashing through Krel’s chest.

An emerald floats up from some unseen spot in Mordred’s armor and crushes itself above him, sending Mordred away.

Krel isn’t sure which of his soulmate’s names he screams in frustration.

The cold numbness doesn’t leave when Merlin once more chokes Douxie as Merlin replaces the amulet with the shackle. Merlin then walks away, probably to summon Jim or one of the knights to bring Mordred back to his cell. Douxie doesn’t feel like a person, but he forces his lips to move and sound to escape his throat because he needs to know.

“You…” Mordred says, trying to force out the accusatory anger that he feels in some distant place that all of his emotions and everything else that makes him a person have been sent to. “You killed my father, didn’t you?”

Merlin glances over at him. “We both know that you stabbed him through the chest. And given how you’ve been fighting back against my control for the past several days, I’d say that you were more than capable of fighting back then, especially if you had truly cared about him. So, no. You killed Arthur. I just gave you the needed push. Unfortunately, you lack the discipline that you had back then.”

Merlin steps away, and some of that distant anger and shock is replaced by fear. Fear that Mordred is going to lose his left hand as well. Merlin continues speaking. “It’s really too bad. If your parents had just listened to the false prophecy I had given them, I could have stolen you away with the promise to kill you and instead raised you as my weapon since I had always known your magic would be powerful. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about any of this. But no. Without doubting the prophecy’s validity, Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere all thought the best choice was to raise you themselves and hope that I had misinterpreted the idea of you killing Arthur. Funny, that. When I created the false prophecy, I didn’t yet even have any intention to have Arthur killed. He had still been useful, then.”

The numbness is so intense that the entire trek back to Mordred’s cell is a blur.

Toby’s house is the closest, this time, so that’s where they go when Douxie is gone. Toby very purposefully avoids looking towards Jim’s house as they do so.

“That was Douxie’s voice,” Toby says as the four of them climb the stairs to Toby’s room. It’s the longest sentence he’s said since they heard Douxie speak.

“So?” Steve asks.

“Possessed people don’t have their own voice, they have the voice of the person possessing them. Draal spoke in Gunmar’s voice. Claire spoke in Morgana’s voice. Douxie isn’t possessed.”

“But he’s not the one in control,” Zoe says.

“No, but he was fighting back,” Krel says.

“The point is, how do we get him back? I’d go to Strickler for possession stuff since he was somewhat helpful with Claire, but like I said,” Toby says, glancing behind himself towards the direction of Jim’s house.

“Well, what if we cut him off from his magic?” Steve asks. Zoe winces at the idea. “Uh, cut him off from Merlin’s magic, anyways?”

“Wait, cutting Douxie off from his own magic might work,” Toby says. Zoe cringes away from him.

“How?” she says in a horrified tone of voice.

“Merlin’s tomb,” Toby says.

“I thought the entire problem is that Merlin is alive and none of us know how to kill him,” Steve says.

“It’s where me and the others woke Merlin up from in the first place.” A guilty look forms on Toby’s face. “Big crystal cave, weird rooms, the point is, Douxie won’t be able to use his magic there. Only Merlin’s magic works there, which is why I didn’t mention this to any of you for Jim. Plus, even though only Merlin’s magic working, that’s not where Merlin’s home base is. Don’t get why, though. But the point is, Douxie will only be using a sword. Maybe sword and dagger, by dual wielding. But he’ll be at a disadvantage.”

“But if he can’t use magic, then isn’t there a chance that Douxie will have a harder time fighting back?” Krel says as he sits on Toby’s bed.

“Merlin summoned Douxie back because he was fighting back,” Zoe says. “I think. Maybe? But I get the feeling that no matter what, it’s going to be a lot harder for him to fight back against Merlin next time he’s forced to attack us, no matter what.”

“How would we get Douxie to the tomb, though?” Steve asks.

Toby smacks a hand to his forehead. “Right. Forgot about that. We had to break Jim’s amulet to turn on the ignition for a gyre. I mean, Claire’s checked that place out with her portals, but I don’t want to ask her to do any portals. She’s got enough on her plate with protecting the trolls; I swear she has more white hair each time I see her.”

“I’ve been working on a portable wormhole maker, as a side project,” Krel says. “I need a power source, but I think it could work. The person operating it would have to stay behind, though.”

“I might be able to provide power?” Zoe says. “I’d have to see the schematics, though. But I think I’d be able to.”

“And then the three of us can save Douxie!” Steve punches a fist into the air. He winces as he moves his arm wrong; a bruise is forming.

“No. I have to go alone,” Krel says.

“No. You’re. Not.” Toby stands up to his full height so that he’s almost eye-level with Krel.

“All your weapons are at least somewhat magical. Same with your armor. It won’t work in Merlin’s Tomb. I’m the only one who will be able to fight him.”

Toby sighs. “Fine. But if you don’t come out after four minutes, then we’re coming after you.”

“Okay. Hopefully, the fact that Mordred’s my soulmate will help me in this.”

Mordred doesn’t really sleep after the revelation about the prophecy being false. He had a hard time sleeping in his cell before, since his left wrist was always restrained and there was always some amount of pain from his right arm. But it’s worse now.

Knowing that Merlin has been using Mordred since before he was even conceived makes it hard to sleep, eat, or walk the limited range his chain allows him to. All Mordred wants to do is stare at a single point in the wall and try not to think about, well, anything really, because everything leads back to the fact that Mordred is a weapon and always has been. He is a weapon, but if he had tried harder not to be he wouldn’t have killed his father.

His wrists ache constantly. His left wrist is constantly restrained. He is not sure how often the bandages on his right wrist are supposed to be changed, but they’re changed rarely enough that they’ve become dirty.

When he is able to try to fall asleep, he does not sleep well. Nightmares attack him constantly. They aren’t just the nightmares that have plagued Mordred for the past three years, not when some of them feature his friends being the ones with gaping stab wounds in their chests.

He feels so cold all over. Almost all over; his head feels so unbearably hot.

He is so tired. He is too tired to fight back when Merlin forces the amulet upon him again.

After all, Mordred has always been a weapon. It’s useless for him to fight back.

In that distant place where everything that makes him a person is being kept, he hopes his friends will kill him before he can kill them.

Four delsons are barely enough to finish the portable wormhole generator. Four delsons pass between the last time they saw Mordred and now.

Mordred doesn’t wait to attack them like he did before. He is silent. He doesn’t seem to be fighting back against Merlin. His eyes glow a brighter green, as do the carvings. His blows are meant to cause as much harm as possible.

A cut forms on Steve’s arm and another on Toby’s face as they shield Zoe, who’s channeling her magic into the wormhole generator.

“Are you sure about this?” Steve asks.

“Stick to the plan!” Krel shifts his serrator to its shield form to avoid the barrage of daggers.

Mordred is suddenly backlit by the wormhole’s cyan glow. Krel shifts his serrator into its sword form and charges. Mordred sidesteps him, parrying the blow. A line of blue fire forms between the two of them and the wormhole.

“Hey, Douxdred!” Toby shouts. For the briefest of moments, confusion cuts through Douxie’s blank expression. This gives Toby enough of an opening to slam his warhammer into Douxie’s upper legs, sending Douxie and one of his daggers flying through the wormhole. The others fall to the ground. Krel pulls out his hoverboard and flies over the flames and through the wormhole. It closes behind him.

Mordred walks towards him. He throws a dagger at Krel. Krel jumps off the hoverboard in order to avoid it. Mordred breaks into a run, sword pointed at Krel.

Parry. Dodge. Parry. Lunge. Parry. Krel grits his teeth as he adjusts his grip on his serrator.

Parry. Dodge. Thrust. Parry. Krel glances downwards to see if he could try and trip Mordred. Krel has to jump out of the way to avoid Mordred stabbing directly through Krel’s core.

Parry. Advance. Parry. Krel’s serrator gets caught on one of the wings of Mordred’s helmet, and he has to shift it into a shield to avoid losing it. Mordred’s sword clashes into Krel’s shield once, twice, three times before Krel forms a sword again.

Thrust. Parry. Krel wonders how quickly this fight would be over if he just shot Mordred. But Krel isn’t sure how to shoot Mordred and not kill him.

Advance. Mordred’s sword slices into Krel’s jaw, tearing the fabric. Krel parries to avoid any actual damage but loses his serrator in the process.

Krel pushes away at Mordred’s right wrist. Mordred howls in pain and drops his sword. As Mordred attempts to pull away, Krel’s fingers reach around the amulet and pull it out of the armor. Mordred’s eyes close and he falls backwards. Krel reaches for Mordred’s right hand, but his fingers slip through empty air. Mordred’s head slams into the stone floor.

Krel kneels next to him. All four of his hands shake. One of them is about to touch the bandaged stump where Mordred’s right hand used to be, but he decides against it. He doesn’t want to cause any pain. With his lower pair of hands, Krel texts the group chat so they know he’s safe. At the same time, he grabs his serrator and the amulet from where they’ve fallen and sticks them in his pockets.

Krel’s fingers ghost over Mordred’s cheek as he tries to remember where to check a human’s pulse. Akiridions aren’t as sensitive to fluctuations in temperature as humans are, but Krel is pretty sure Mordred’s head shouldn’t be so hot. Mordred leans his head into Krel’s touch, and Krel sighs with relief. His soulmate is alive. Mordred opens his eyes, and Krel realizes that something is wrong.

Mordred’s eyes are no longer green; they are the same shade of gold that Krel has missed more than he had known. But they are hollow, like Merlin has reached into Mordred and taken out everything that makes Mordred a person.

“Krel?” Mordred asks. He sounds so tired. Tired, and scared, and pained. His hollow eyes focus on Krel’s jaw, where the suit is ripped. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, it was Merlin’s,” Krel says.

“Not just for that.” Douxie trembles as he sits up. Krel reluctantly removes his hand from Douxie’s cheek. He doesn’t want to put any pressure on his soulmate.

The wormhole opens behind them.

“Let’s go home,” Krel says. They stand up; Krel catches Douxie as he begins to collapse. Douxie cradles his right arm against his chest.

“Here, lean on me,” Krel says, his voice more frustrated than he intends. He’s not frustrated with his ex. Not too frustrated, anyways. He’s angry at Merlin. Krel had known that Mordred losing a hand was a possibility, but the reality hurts.

The selfish part of Krel wants to push Douxie away. Douxie is sticky with sweat and blood, and his gait is just different enough to throw Krel off. But the heartbroken part of Krel cherishes the way Douxie’s body presses against Krel’s own, the way Douxie leans into Krel’s touch. He knows it won’t last, but he wants it to.

They exit the wormhole into Krel’s house. Krel isn’t always the best at reading other people’s emotions, but it is easy to pinpoint when his friends realize that Douxie is missing a hand.

“I, uh, I’m gonna go call Dr. L,” Toby says, darting off as he pulls out his phone.

“What happened?” Zoe asks as the four of them follow Toby upstairs.

“Merlin happened,” Douxie mumbles.

“He hit his head when I got the armor off of him,” Krel says at almost the same time.

Krel deposits Mordred into a comfortable chair. Mordred’s hollow eyes follow Krel as he walks away, but then he just starts staring at a random empty point on Krel’s wall. His eyes start to flutter closed.

Steve pokes Mordred in the cheek.

Mordred opens his eyes. “Why?”

“Sorry, but you might have a concussion. If you fall asleep, you might fall asleep forever.” Steve turns to Zoe as he removes his finger. “He’s burning up.”

“Hey, Lucy, where do you keep your towels?” Zoe asks, running off as water begins to coalesce in her hands.

“I doubt it’ll be forever,” Mordred says. “Just another millennium and a half, like last time. Maybe then I can stop being Merlin’s weapon.”

Zoe comes back with a damp towel, using her magic to keep it from dripping on the floor. She unceremoniously lays it over Douxie’s forehead.

“Cold,” he complains. He reaches up with his left hand to move it, but Zoe presses the towel against his forehead.

“Yeah, well, suck it up, you’ve got a fever. Towel stays.” Zoe bites her lip as she steps away. Mordred sighs and continues staring at the blank wall, expression completely blank.

Quietly, she says, “I’ve never seen him this sick before. And his eyes. They’re…”

“Hollow?” Krel provides.

Zoe wraps her arms around herself. “I was going to say voids, but that works better.”

Toby walks over towards them. “Okay. So, Dr. L’s driving over. She’s going to pick him up and take him to the hospital.”

Krel takes the amulet out of his pocket and hands it to Zoe. “Do you think you or Archie could do something with this?” Zoe shrugs, but takes it anyways.

“Thanks for fighting back,” Mordred says, startling the four of them.

“Well, what else would we have done?” Steve asks.

Mordred sniffles. “My father didn’t when Merlin made me kill him. I wish he had.”

Toby, Zoe, Steve, and Krel all look at each other, not sure what to say after that. Mordred just continues staring at the empty wall.

Toby pulls out his phone. “Oh! Dr. L’s here.”

Steve takes Douxie out to the car. Krel looks down at his right hands and realizes that Mordred lost the wrist with Krel’s name on it.

A day later, Douxie is released from the hospital with instructions on how to keep his right arm clean, a list of legal instructions to handle with his employers considering that he’s lost a hand, medical results revealing that he doesn’t have a concussion, and several prescriptions. One is for the infection, one is for the fever, and another is for the pain. He isn’t sure how his health insurance will pay for any of it, not with how hard it is to try and get flu vaccinations covered, but Dr. Lake says not to worry about it and how the city is trying to set up a fund to help with defense. It’s hard for him to worry, but not because of her reassurement. He feels better than he did yesterday, but he still doesn’t feel like a person with actual, non-distant emotions.

Getting re-dressed is a frustrating endeavor. He drops his belt once before he gets the hang of using his forearm. He has no idea of how to tie his shoelaces with only one hand, so he stuffs them inside his shoes. He can’t figure out how to roll his hoodie sleeves up, so he lets them hang around his wrists. It feels wrong. For nearly as long as he can remember his sleeves have been cut short or rolled up. Long sleeves were a fire hazard around a toddler who would make fireballs, so Mother, Father, Da, and anyone else who cared about Mordred would make sure to roll up his sleeves if for some reason his were long. Mordred hasn’t accidentally set fire to anything in a long time, but rolled up sleeves are such a habit that the way they are now feels wrong.

And yes, he can technically use his magic to dress himself, but his magic feels tainted now. Tainted and distant, just like everything else about him as a person.

He walks into the hospital waiting room, arms pressed to his sides. It is mostly empty, aside from the receptionist and three other people. Specifically, three of Douxie’s friends.

Specifically, Zoe, Steve, and Toby. He is relieved to see them, to see that they care about him enough to come here. He doesn’t allow himself to be disappointed that Krel isn’t there, not with how Douxie hurt Krel. Krel should hate Douxie. Krel deserves to hate Mordred even more than everyone else does. Yesterday was just a fluke when Krel had handled Douxie so tenderly. It may have not even been truly tender, it may have been the aftereffects of possession, infection, betrayal, losing a hand, and otherwise poor living conditions causing Douxie to seek out any source of comfort even when there wasn’t one. It wasn’t tenderness, it was just wishful thinking.

The three of them are talking, but Toby notices Mordred first. He taps Zoe on the shoulder, and she looks up. She stands up from her chair and marches towards Mordred, anger radiating off of her.

Mordred tries not to flinch away. Of course. They hate him. They think he’s a bloodthirsty killer. Merlin forced Mordred to try and kill them and so they should hate him for their own safety.

“I can’t believe you,” Zoe says. “Seriously? Why am I listed as your next of kin? I have to get my parents to approve of my own, but somehow I have to make the medical decisions for you. Is that even legal? Why couldn’t you have found some adult to trust with this?”

She then hugs him with enough force that Mordred has to adjust his footing. His left arm shakes as he wraps it around Zoe.

“I can change it, if you want?” Mordred says. He doesn’t understand why it’s somewhat-legal paperwork that she’s mad about and not everything else.

Steve and Toby walk towards them. Steve pulls Douxie’s phone out of the pocket of his khakis.

“You dropped this,” Steve says. Zoe pulls away from Mordred so he can grab his phone. His hand shakes less now. Steve continues, “Oh yeah, you should probably change your password, since all four of us hacked into it so we could pretend to be you so your jobs didn’t think you’d just skipped town.”

“Yeah, also,” Zoe says, “we were wondering if you preferred to be called Douxie or Mordred?”

“I… it doesn’t matter,” Mordred says. He can’t hide from his past anymore, so there’s no reason to continue being Douxie, but Douxie is an identity he claimed for himself when everything else was ripped away from him. He can be both. Maybe he can find a way to change his name to legally incorporate the name he chose into the name his parents gave him. Considering how he was able to falsify his legal existence; it shouldn’t be too hard.

“Okay, Douxdred it is, then,” Toby says.

“One or the other; don’t call me that,” Douxie snaps, then cringes. He isn’t sure how he earned their forgiveness, but he can’t be threatening or else they’ll hate him. “I’m sorry.”

Toby shrugs. “Hey, I get it. I still hate that Claire’s nickname for me stuck.”

“You don’t hate me?” Mordred asks, glancing between his friends. “Not with everything I’ve done? You don’t think I’ll betray you?”

“Why would we?” Steve asks. “It wasn’t your fault. You literally told us that in a kind of depressing way. I know a therapist, she’s really nice.”

“But I didn’t know Merlin made, made me…” Douxie looks away, lowering his voice so it sounds less choked. “I thought I was dangerous, that I was a time bomb before I killed someone I cared about again. I thought it was something engrained into me by fate, not Merlin. And I didn’t tell any of you.”

“And I didn’t tell any of you that Merlin and the knights had a very specific vendetta against me and thus my very presence probably escalated at least one fight more than it needed to,” Zoe says as she rolls her eyes.

Douxie sighs, a very slight smile forming on his face. He doesn’t understand why his friends trust him, but he’s thankful that they do.

Krel’s phone buzzes right as he hangs up after talking to Eli about math and technology. Krel pulls it out of his pocket and unlocks it.

Oh. Right. Mordred got out of the hospital, and the others were going to check on him. There are updates from Zoe, Toby, and Steve. None of the updates ask why Krel wasn’t there. None of the updates are from Douxie. Which makes sense, considering that they aren’t on speaking terms. Krel hasn’t blocked Douxie’s number, not when Merlin is a threat.

According to Zoe, Mordred’s eyes are still just as hollow as they were yesterday. Krel wants to hug his soulmate, to hold him until the emptiness goes away. But Douxie had looked at Krel with a bored expression when Krel had claimed to never want to speak to Douxie again. Which means that Douxie doesn’t feel the same way about Krel. Yesterday was just a fluke. The aftereffects of possession, infection, losing a hand, and anything else that Merlin may have just caused Mordred to find a way to seek comfort out from any source, even if he normally wouldn’t want it. Mordred wasn’t actually taking comfort in Krel’s touch; it was just Krel’s wishful thinking.

Krel types out a quick question, one devoid of emotion but polite, the way his parents taught him to be with dignitaries. He then holds down the backspace button. As much as Krel wants to see if his soulmate is okay, he also wants an apology and an explanation from his ex.

Douxie has less than a day to recover when Merlin sends another enemy. An alert shows up on his phone. It takes far too many tries to unlock his phone; he really needs to change it to something that can be easily unlocked with one hand. When he finally unlocks it, he checks the location of the enemy. Afterwards Douxie shoves his phone in his pants pocket, grabs his keys, and runs out of his house.

He does technically know how to use a dagger with his left hand. But he’s never really liked doing so. He’s trained himself into ambidexterity, so he can cast spells with his left hand and wield a weapon with his right. But he can’t do that anymore. He has to make a choice.

Fire is out of the question, unless he wants to deal with a burning hoodie. Just using shielding spells isn’t going to be helpful.

Douxie stops, several feet away. It’s a swarm of small constructs. Zoe, Steve, and Toby are all trying to smack them. Krel is trying to shoot them with his serrator.

Zoe’s armor doesn’t contain a visor. She gets hit in the nose hard enough to bleed. Blood drips from her nose across her face and onto her armor. Onto her armored chest.

Mordred can’t breathe, not with the memories are overlaying themselves on top of the present. This is all his fault. They’re all going to die and it will be his fault just like it was Mordred’s fault when –

It hadn’t been Mordred’s fault, back then. It had been Merlin’s fault. Or at least, the only fault Mordred had was not fighting back hard enough. He has to fight back now.

Mordred exhales quietly before he bites his lip. He summons a dagger, and then summons four more. He inspects them, makes sure they have a soft blue glow and the crosspieces don’t resemble dragon wings at all. He then swings his left arm like he’s trying to throw something, and he sends his daggers into the fray. He is careful. He doesn’t want to hurt his friends.

Steve stumbles as a dagger takes down a construct about to attack him, but he smiles slightly as he turns towards Mordred. “Oh, huh, you can do that outside of being controlled.”

Douxie tries not to wince.

Parry. Weave. Misdirect. Trying to focus on five different daggers gives him a headache that still doesn’t make him feel real. It doesn’t matter though. His friends are getting hurt less. And he will make whatever needed sacrifice to protect him.

He can see a construct trying to sneak up on him of the corner of his eye. He ignores it. He needs to keep his friends safe. It jumps, ready to pounce, and he does not flinch away because he needs to protect his friends.

The construct is consumed by cyan light. Douxie looks up, and his lips part slightly in a gasp. For the briefest of moments, Krel looks concerned. He then catches Douxie staring and looks away.

Right. They’re in the middle of a fight. But despite everything, Krel might still care about Douxie, or at least, not hate Douxie enough to let him be injured.

Parry. Slash. Stab. The fight finishes more quickly than started. Zoe’s nose is finally starting to clot, and she uses her water magic to clean the blood off of herself. Removing the armor means there isn’t much blood on her clothes. It still looks gruesome. Steve offers her a ride to patch up her face at his house, which she accepts. Toby needs to help his Nana. Krel starts to slowly walk away without a word.

Douxie wants to go home, to avoid everyone. But guilt gnaws at him, and so he jogs over to Krel.

“Can we talk?” Mordred asks, trying to make sure he doesn’t sound pushy, because he doesn’t deserve this.

Krel gives him a long look before speaking. “Sure. Let’s go to my house.”

Krel unlocks the door and steps inside, holding the door open for Douxie while shooing off the Blanks. He does not need Lucy to sharpen her paring knives or Ricky to practice juggling objects heavy enough to crush a human skull while Krel talks to his ex.

They sit on opposite sides of the couch. Krel folds both pairs of hands in his lap. Douxie is about to wrap his arms around his torso, left arm protectively folded on top of his right, but he then presses them to his sides instead.

“So. Talk.” Krel’s voice comes out harsher than he intends. He really needs to get better at talking to people.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you, when I found out that you’re my soulmate,” Mordred says. “And this isn’t an excuse or a justification for how I treated you, because I shouldn’t have, but please let me explain myself.”

Krel nods slightly.

“I… ever since before I was born,” Mordred says shakily, “there was a prophecy where I would kill my father. I didn’t want to kill him, but one day I suddenly was forced to do so, and I didn’t know why. And so, I rationalized it as that for some reason, the forces of fate hated me and wanted me to kill everyone I love. And it was really Merlin manipulating me all along, but I didn’t know that. So, I assumed that fate would make me kill my soulmate. And I was thankful, when I realized that my soulmate wasn’t human, because I thought that the chances of me meeting him, well, you, were so low that I wouldn’t have to worry about pushing… you away to keep you safe. And then I met you, and up until you told us about your soulmate, I just hoped that my soulmate was literally any other Akiridion. But then I found out the truth, and I was so scared I was going to kill you. I didn’t want to hurt you, so I pushed you away.”

Wait… Douxie loves Krel? Mordred loves Krel back?

Douxie gives a wet chuckle. He blinks harshly, like that will stop the tears from forming in his hollow eyes. Like he doesn’t want Krel to pity him, or for his tears to influence Krel. “I really didn’t think that through. Pushing you away that is. Because yeah, I was avoiding killing you. Or at least, trying to. But I still hurt you. And I’m sorry. I was wrong, and not just because it was Merlin controlling me instead of pure fate, but because I should have told you why. And you don’t need to forgive me, and I completely understand. I’m, uh, I can go now, and we can continue not speaking to each other if you want. Thanks for hearing me out, though.”

Douxie rises from the couch.

Krel has wanted three things ever since he found out that Douxie is Mordred: an explanation, an apology, and his soulmate. He has two of them, and he doesn’t want to let the third go.

Krel inhales, sharp and loud, and grabs Douxie’s hand between both of his lower ones. Krel then cradles his soulmate’s face with his upper pair of hands, using his thumbs to brush away Mordred’s tears.

“I love you, too,” Krel says. “Never lie to me again.”

Mordred smiles a half-overjoyed, half-broken smile. “I can do that.”

Krel hugs Douxie as he starts sobbing into Krel’s chest. Krel might shed a couple relieved tears as well.

When Douxie shows his face again, his eyes seem just a little less hollow.

Krel loves Douxie, and mostly forgives him. This keeps Mordred feeling buoyant and more tethered to his own body than he has felt ever since Merlin forced the amulet upon him. That evening, Douxie still feels rather real as he walks into Zimue Records, where Zoe is finishing up her shift. She asked him to come around at the end. If he squints, he can see faint bruises on her nose.

She pulls an amulet out her pocket, and Douxie’s regained sense of reality fades away once more. It is the same amulet that Merlin created out of Douxie’s hand, but the crystal inside of it is utterly clear.

“You didn’t destroy it?” he asks. He digs his nails into his palm as a twofold task: not hyperventilating and maybe regaining a sense of reality. He manages the former.

“Archie showed me how to take Merlin’s magic out of it,” Zoe says. “It has your hand in it, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking that, well, since your hand’s in it, I could use both of our magic to turn it into a prosthetic. It won’t be able to summon the full armor, but hey, the armor made you look like you still had both hands.”

“Merlin could take control of me again!”

“I won’t let him.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I… look. I don’t want you hurt again, and if you don’t want me to do this then that’s fine, but you’re my best friend and I want to help you. And if something goes wrong and Merlin manages to control you again – and I’d take precautions to make sure he can’t – I will save you.”

“If you need to, you should kill me.”

Zoe’s eyes widen. “What? No!”

“Zoe, I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if I kill someone under Merlin’s control again. I’m not fully sure how I lived with myself after Camlann and coming to Arcadia.”

“Okay. But understand that killing you would be the last resort. And that we might have a hard time living with ourselves if we were to have killed you.”

“I understand. But, what are your plans for the prosthetic? And can you make it look a little less like armor I would’ve designed when I was eight?”

“So, after he lied to you, you got back together?” Aja scrunches her face as she says this.

“Yes, I’ve explained this to you multiple times.” Krel had almost immediately tried to call his sister and tell her the good news about him and his soulmate. She had called him back with surprising speed. He’s starting to regret it now.

“I don’t think you should.”

“Unlike you, my boyfriend has never caused an injury to my sibling, which means that you don’t get to lecture me.” She flinches slightly at his statement.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“I… look, I gave him an ultimatum. I can handle myself. How have you been?”

“Um. Fine.”

“Aja, I know you’re lying. What’s wrong?”

Aja mumbles something.

“I couldn’t hear you,” Krel says.

“I met my soulmate today.” The words rush out of her. She doesn’t sound happy. “Or, well, I found her name.”

“And?”

“She’s a Taylon. Much better than average at shooting, slightly worse than average at hand-to-hand combat. Her name was on a list of Taylon soldiers in training who were vetted as loyal.”

“I mean, that’s good. Does she know about you?”

Aja rolls her eyes. “She has my name on her wrist, just like I have hers on mine. I think she knows that I’m her soulmate.”

“I mean, have you talked to her?”

“Krel, I can’t. You know, I was jealous of you, growing up. There was a chance that you might get to have a relationship with your soulmate – and obviously I didn’t think your relationship would be so complicated, but you’d still get to have one. Mama and Papa would have never let me. I think they’d approve more of me and Steve, and well… I’m not sure how they would’ve felt about him. I mean, you didn’t like him at first. Ugh, I’m not even sure how to tell Steve about my soulmate.”

“Again, Steve punched me! Plus, I hadn’t found anything that made Earth worthwhile yet. But, I don’t think Mama and Papa would want you to be unhappy.” Even if they probably would’ve wanted to uphold the caste system. “So, you should probably talk to her and Steve, without caring what others think.”

Aja sighs. “Since when are you smart?”

“I always have been!”

“I meant about emotions. But also, the offer is still open to beat up your boyfriend if he hurts you again.”

Krel rolls his eyes as Aja transitions into talking about something funny Luug did.

Mordred takes his sword, and he stabs it directly through Krel’s core. A grin forms on Mordred’s face as he twists the sword. He grabs Krel’s shoulder for leverage as he then rips the sword out of the wound. The sword disappears, and suddenly Mordred is made very aware of what he has done, what he has been forced to do. He holds Krel to his chest and presses a hand to the exit wound on Krel’s back, trying to stop the blood from flowing out of Krel’s body and soaking into Mordred’s clothes. Redness stains across Krel’s body as he becomes limper and heavier in Mordred’s arms. Mordred stammers out apologies and pleas for Krel to live. The scent of iron burns his nose. He doesn’t know how to heal Krel, he doesn’t know how to fix this, this is all Mordred’s fault and Krel didn’t deserve any of this.

Krel dies in his arms, and a mournful wail breaks free from Mordred’s lips.

With a scream that could shatter glass, Douxie wakes up in his own bed, tangled in his sheets and soaked in his own sweat. While it is too cool of a liquid and it doesn’t have the same scent, the sweat feels too much like blood, and he is tempted to go take a shower and scrub until his skin is raw, but he left a window open and for once, a cold night breeze is blowing. He doesn’t want to have to leave the warmth of his bed. He fumbles around his nightstand for his phone and unlocks it, thankful that he has changed the pattern to something more accessible. It’s 1:03 AM. Without thinking, he calls Krel.

Krel picks up on the second ring. “Douxie?”

“Sorry I woke you,” Douxie says, suddenly realizing that he had been hyperventilating. He tries to banish the image of Krel bleeding out from his mind.

“Bold of you to assume I even need sleep.” Douxie is pretty sure Krel does need sleep, but he is too panicked to state this. “Are you okay.”

“I…” Douxie wants to lie and say it’s nothing, but he needs to be honest with Krel. “I had a nightmare. I killed you, and there was so much blood, and I just wanted to hear your voice to make sure you were okay.”

In the background, Douxie can hear Krel drum his fingers on the table, like he’s trying to think of something to say. “In your dream, what color was my blood?”

“What? Um, it was red.”

“And what form was I in?”

“Akiridion.”

“I don’t have blood as an Akiridion, and as a human my blood is cyan. So, next time you dream about my red and bloody death, hopefully you’ll remember that and realize it’s not real.” The reminder isn’t that comforting; the fact that Krel is trying to be comforting is.

They end up talking until it’s around 3 AM and even Krel has to acknowledge that he needs sleep.

Their first date after they get back together ends up being at the same coffee shop as their first one was. It’s louder this time and there’s more people, which is annoying. Still, they’re able to tuck themselves into a corner, even if they end up having to press against each other. Which isn’t bad, but there is a slight electric feeling to it that distracts Krel. It’s less intense and more comforting than the first time they held hands, but there’s more surface area.

“Did you know that our friends made a bet over whether or not we would get together?” Krel says. Mordred nearly chokes on his chai.

“Technically,” Krel continues, “Toby and Zoe never agreed to it, but they did speculate about us with Steve.”

“Hmm,” Douxie says, having recovered. “I wonder if they’re speculating about whether or not we got back together.”

“Should we tell them?”

“Not our fault those three are oblivious at times.”

Everyone is crowded around Zoe’s kitchen table. Her idea of collaborating on the prosthetic really boiled down to Douxie pumping magic into the amulet and giving design tips, and then her shooing him off. He’s used to it, considering how she is every single time there’s a group project assigned by one of their teachers at the Academy. Mostly used to it, considering that ever since the two of them joined the independent study track at the start of their junior year they haven’t ever had a group project, just homework they’d work on and gripe about together.

Zoe brings out the reconstructed amulet. The stone is now two separate swirling shades of blue; Douxie’s pale blue and Zoe’s cerulean blue. The hands are now daggers instead of wings. The amulet is attached to a black glove.

“Uh, Zoe?” Douxie says. “If I’m not mistaken, if an ornament is attached to a glove, then it goes on the back of the hand. Which means that that’s a glove that goes on the right hand, which, well…”

Zoe and Archie narrow their eyes in unison.

“Just put it on your right arm and twist the amulet clockwise,” she says. Douxie does as told. The amulet glows, and the glove turns to blue light. Metal shoots out from the amulet and forms a gauntlet. It looks like the armor his father, mother, and da both wore, aside from the fact that there’s an amulet and Mordred’s is completely black.

“You’ll probably have to wear a sock under it, to keep your skin from being damaged when the weather gets extreme, like when it’s really hot or the rare occasion that it’s really cold,” Zoe says. Douxie cringes at the idea of another source of cold. “Anyways, can you do a hand gesture or something, to make sure you can use your fingers?”

He feels clumsy. There’s a slight strain on his magic as he tries to correct the clumsiness. Douxie sticks his tongue out as he sticks his thumb, index, and pinky fingers up while curling his middle and ring fingers inward, much to Steve and Toby’s frustration.

Douxie has started working at the bookstore once more, and Krel is hanging out with his boyfriend. It’s nice and quiet. Then again, Krel’s pretty sure the bookstore only gets a few more customers than Stuart’s Electronics. Douxie is sweeping while listening to music on his headphones; Krel is looking at books and rolling his eyes at what random humans think the mystical secrets of the universe are. According to Douxie, only a third of the books here hold actual magical truths and the rest are new age material. The book that Krel is reading almost certainly falls into the latter category.

Krel puts the book back, an idea coming to him. He clears his throat. “Can you kiss me?”

Douxie takes off one headphone; Krel can hear his boyfriend’s music blaring through it. Krel will readily admit, metal growls and yelling about death aren’t his thing, when it comes to music, and this song is doing precisely that. “Did you say something?”

“Can you kiss me?”

Douxie’s face turns a shade of red similar to Toby’s sweater. His voice comes out as a high-pitched squeak. “I mean, I can but why? Uh, that came out wrong. I just, you never really indicated that you wanted to and I’m going to shut up now.”

Krel walks up to him. Embarrassingly enough, his voice is almost as awkwardly squeaky. “Scientific research? On kissing that is? I mean, unless you don’t want to, I was just wondering.”

Douxie cups Krel’s cheek with his left hand and kisses him. It’s an awkward feeling, but it’s nice.

Douxie then pulls back and looks away. Apparently it is possible for Douxie’s face to get even redder. Krel glances towards one of the bookstore’s reflective surfaces and realizes that his own face has a heavy cyan blush.

“So, um, how was that?” Douxie asks.

“Okay,” Krel says, “but inconclusive. I think I’ll need to perform more research.”

Douxie rolls his eyes, his blush receding by a small fraction. “You know, if you want to kiss me more, you don’t have to frame it as scientific research.”

“If I carve something into the prosthetic, will it damage it?” Mordred asks. The two of them are on their lunch break from their respective jobs at the books store and the record store. Zoe raises her eyebrows.

“I made it scuff proof.”

“Oh. Well. Darn.”

“You know, if you wanted it to have carvings, you should’ve told me before I made it.”

“I didn’t think of it until late last night?” It had been really late, considering that Mordred had been kept up by his brain replaying the memories of yesterday’s kiss.

Zoe groans. “What do you want carved into your prosthetic?”

“Krel’s name. I know I hid it before, but I regret doing so now.”

“Oh.”

“And, like, if that’s not possible it’s fine. I can just use markers or something until I can save up for a tattoo.”

“I’m guessing you don’t know any embroidery?”

“I know some. Oh, don’t give me that surprised look. You were a literal blacksmith in your first life, so you should know that gender roles in Camelot weren’t as strict as most of Europe.”

“I’ve got some enchanted thread. You can embroider Krel’s name into the glove, and then it shouldn’t be hard to make it engraved in the gauntlet.”

Merlin sent constructs to two different areas, so Krel and Mordred are alone with a pair of constructs that look disturbingly like overgrown soolians with extra-long legs.

There’s something different about Douxie. Krel can’t figure out what, though. Granted, he’s using a different fighting style than usual. He’s holding a dagger in his right hand and manipulating a cloud of daggers with his left. But that doesn’t feel like it’s it.

Krel blinks and focuses on fighting the constructs. As he slices the head off of one, he tries not to wince as the other one bites down on Douxie’s right arm. The dagger cloud stabs into the other construct’s eyes, and it crumbles. Krel helps to pry apart the constructs jaws so that Mordred can get his arm out.

“I’ve got bandages at my apartment,” Douxie says through gritted teeth. He takes his hoodie off of his left arm and awkwardly wraps it around his right arm to stem the bleeding for now..

“Do you need any help?” Krel asks.

“I can take care of myself, but I’d appreciate it.”

The walk back is thankfully a short one. Douxie hisses as he pulls off his hoodie. “First aid kit’s under the bathroom sink.”

Douxie turns on the water as Krel reaches underneath. As Krel stands up and opens the kit, Douxie rolls up his sleeve and sticks his injured arm under the faucet.

“So, what do you want me to do?” Krel asks.

“See the tape?” Douxie says as he dries off his arm. “I’m going to put gauze on the bite holes; could you please tape them in place?”

Krel undoes the roll of tape and cringes at the stickiness. The two of them tape up Douxie’s injuries, starting with the upper arm and working down. Krel finishes taping up the last of the injuries when something on inside of the wrist of the gauntlet catches his eyes. It’s an engraving that softly glows with the same blue light of the amulet.

“You carved my name into it?” Krel says. Douxie smiles sheepishly.

“I, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out, but yeah. Is that okay? I can undo it if you’d rather me not have.”

“Yeah, just, I didn’t think you really wanted a soulmate?”

“I… no, I didn’t. But after Merlin told me the truth, I realized that having a soulmate wouldn’t have been so bad. And even if I got to choose who I wanted to be my soulmate; I think I still would’ve chosen you.”

Krel beams before kissing his soulmate on the forehead.

Author's note: If you liked this, please reblog and/or go to one of the links and leave a comment! I worked very hard on this so I hope you enjoyed reading it.

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 1: Flee

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (Book 3, Chapter 1... just kidding. I wish, though)

Word Count: ~3300

Rating: R (language only)

Summary: Riley knows what needs to be done.

Author’s Note: So, maybe TRH3 will interest me if we get something like this... but we won’t. This is an AU (not officially yet, but undoubtedly this won’t be the path PB takes) that picks up immediately after the end of TRH2. I don’t know if I’ll play around any more in this universe or not, but I had a lot of fun exploring how Riley Liu would actually react to everything that unfolded. This wasn’t exactly what I envisioned when I started writing this piece, and it probably won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but I like how this turned out, and I hope some of you can enjoy it. Thanks to @shz256 for asking me to tackle this topic! I don’t know if this will be how you envisioned it or not, but it’s where these characters led me.

Riley felt as if things were happening in slow motion, but as if time was somehow passing by faster than normal, too. She could barely catch her breath, trying to follow the discussion about ancient, unused statutes that would somehow take her daughter from her. She needed to listen, to understand, to pay attention, but it was hard not to be overwhelmed by panic. They were trying to take her baby.

It felt like a horror movie, so surreal and shocking, listening as Landon and Kiara, two people she trusted, pronounced her an unfit mother. Kiara, who was always direct with her, who had never been dismissive or involved in a scheme against her. Until now, apparently. And Landon, who she admired, who she knew Drake looked to as a model on how to be a member of the nobility with some common sense. Well, fuck ‘em.

Fuck all of it. Fuck this country and it’s stupid backwater practices. Fuck social seasons and childhood betrothals and and apple themed everything. Fuck her child being heir to the throne. Fuck Liam for asking. Fuck Drake for convincing her to agree. Fuck being a duchess. Just… fuck. She never wanted her life to look like this, her daughter a political figure before she took her first steps, expected to bear the burden of the crown. She knew what she had to do. She would die before they took her daughter from her.

There was exactly one person who she could trust who was also in a position to help her. As she wrapped her arms around Bridget, holding her close, her eyes darted around the room frantically. Olivia was already on her feet, coming to stand next to Liam, who was now apparently debating the finer points of this fucking law. Widening her eyes and staring her down, Riley was able to get her attention. Olivia tilted her head down slightly in acknowledgement, sliding back a half step and turning her head partially to the side so that Riley could whisper in her ear without drawing too much attention.

“I need you to slow them down,” was all she breathed out before pivoting on her heel. The door was only a few feet away. With the element of surprise and Olivia defending her, she could get out of here. Make a run for it. The main gate was out with all the press and citizens there, but if she could find the back driveway that Drake had told her-”

A hand on her shoulder tugged her back around before she’d even fully taken a step, sharp red nails digging painfully into her skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” hissed Olivia, taking advantage of the fact that Liam and Barthelemy had both stepped closer to each other, raising their voices ever so slightly, though nowhere near loud enough to be considered yelling, to serve as a small distraction. Even still, she and Olivia didn’t go completely unnoticed. Both Drake and Hana were watching the two of them closely, Drake clearly torn between stepping over to join her and staying where he was and not drawing any more attention to her conversation. Maxwell just seemed lost and in shock, standing off to the side, staring at his fingers. And Kiara had glanced their way briefly, but quickly flicked her eyes back to the brewing confrontation between Liam and Barthelemy. Everyone else seemed to be ignoring them.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here before they take my baby,” Riley ground out, her voice breaking slightly at the end, sliding her hand over the back of her daughter’s head as she started squirming. It was hard to soothe her when she felt like she might throw up if she had to stay here a second longer.

“Calm down. We need a better plan than-”

“I don’t fucking have time, Olivia. I have to go. Now.”

Olivia sighed, then pulled a small blade from a hidden pocket near her waist and slid it into Riley’s hand, “My driver is out front. Ray. Show him I gave you this, and he will take you to the Lythikos keep.”

“No, I need to get out of Cordon-”

“Riley, take Bridget there. You will be safe. Lythikos will not tolerate a Beaumont-led invasion. The citizens will take up arms before that happens.”

“I can’t risk that. I need-”

“You need more of a plan than just running on foot. You know I’m right, so go tell Hana that you are going to go change Bridget’s diaper. Then calmly walk out of here and straight to my town car.”

Riley knew further discussion would be pointless, and she was just wasting time. Fighting every urge in her body that told her to just bolt, she took those few painful steps closer to the assholes who were trying to take her child so she could tell Hana they were stepping out for a diaper change. Hana squinted slightly, clearly not sure why she was being told this info over Drake, but nodded. Riley could feel Drake staring at her, practically boring a hole into the back of her head with his gaze, but she couldn’t worry about him right now. Her daughter had to be her priority.

She strode calmly to the back of the room. Olivia passed her the diaper bag and gave her a nod as she heard Barthelemy cry out, “Duchess Riley, where are you going?” but Riley just kept walking. She couldn’t risk looking back. She caught Hana’s calming voice start to explain, and all she could do was hope that would be enough and that everyone would buy it. 

She kept her arms wrapped around Bridget as tight as she could, striding down the hall and through the entryway. She wanted to bolt, run straight through those doors, but she didn’t know if she could trust anyone at the palace right now. She had no idea if they had heard gossip and knew what was coming or if they were about to feel as blindsided as her. 

“Babababa!” Bridget babbled excitedly at a pair of guards that were stationed near the front doors, squirming wildly in Riley’s arms.

“Shh, Peanut. You gotta stay with Mama right now,” Riley murmured into her hair as she adjusted her grip on her daughter. She nodded at the guards as she passed through the palace doors, hoping they just assumed she was stepping out because her child was being disruptive. She was sure she looked anxious, though, and the only reason she wasn’t visibly trembling was because of how tightly she was holding Bridget.

She heard a few cheers from what was left of the crowds that had gathered outside the gates to see the arrival of all of Cordonia’s nobility for the start of the Social Season, but she couldn’t worry about them at that moment. She squinted in the sunlight, scanning the drive for Ray, finally spotting him pacing next to a town car maybe a couple hundred feet away, tucked around a bend in the drive that limited its visibility from the front gates. She realized he was smoking while he read something on his phone as she got closer, propelled forward by pure adrenaline. He didn’t glance up at her until she was only a dozen or so feet away, likely not expecting anyone to be approaching him for a while. When he realized she was walking toward him, he quickly shoved his phone in his pocket and stood up straight.

“Your Grace, can I help you?” Ray asked as she closed the rest of the distance between them, dropping his cigarette to the gravel and snuffing it out with the heel of his shoe. Bridget tucked her head into Riley’s shoulder and clutched at her collar. She didn’t like being around strangers, probably a side effect of all the galas and balls and shindigs she’d already been forced to attend. It made Riley feel guilty that she had let things get this far before she took any action, having already subjected her daughter to so much she didn’t deserve.

Riley unclentched her fist just slightly, trying to show Ray what Olivia gave her, but her hands were shaking more and more as the reality of her plan set in, plus she was reluctant to loosen her grip on Bridget even slightly. “Olivia told me that you would drive me where I need to go if I showed you this,” she said, her voice quivering slightly as she finally flashed him the razor thin knife Olivia had given her. Ray jerked his head up when he saw it, staring at Riley for a few tense seconds before scanning the palace behind her. Riley chanced looking back. No one had followed her out here… yet.

“Of course, ma’am. Where are we heading today?”

Riley took a deep breath. She knew what she needed to do. “Ray, do you know the closest border?”

He didn’t react to her question with any shock or surprise, just glanced up as if he were recalling a map in his mind. “The closest from the capital would be the Auvernese border, but I am guessing that does not suit your needs.”

“No, not exactly.”

“Well, The Greek border is probably the next closest.”

“Perfect. That’s where we’re going.”

Ray nodded and moved to open the door for her, but stopped suddenly. “Are you and Her Royal Highness the only passengers today?” he asked, eyes locked over her shoulder in the direction of the palace doors.

Riley nodded, letting her eyes flutter shut and taking a deep breath as she gripped Bridget tighter with her left arm, sliding Olivia’s knife into her grasp better. She was ready to do what she needed to do.

“So the Duke of Valtoria won’t be making this trip with you?” At Ray’s second question, Riley’s eyes flew open and she spun around in shock. There was Drake, essentially power walking across the drive, head jerking back behind him repeatedly.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, I will be in the driver’s seat, ma’am. Whoever gets in the car with you I can take, unless you tell me ‘hit it, Ray,’ alright? If you tell me that, I’ll remove anyone who isn’t you and the princess. Does that suit?”

Riley just nodded weakly. This morning, she could have never pictured a time where she would possibly be making plans without Drake. Plans in opposition to Drake potentially. But she wasn’t sure how he was going to feel about this. About abandoning Liam and their friends and their country in a time of crisis. But she needed to protect her daughter, whether her husband was on board with that plan or not.

“What are you doing out here? They’re going to get suspicious.” she asked as soon as he was close enough that she could keep her voice low. Bridget squirmed in her arms, reaching for Drake and calling excitedly for “Dada,” but Riley kept a tight hold on her. She couldn’t let go of her daughter for anyone at the moment.

Drake opened his left hand, revealing a tube of diaper cream. “Olivia nicked it from the bag and dropped it on the floor so I would have an excuse to go after you. We gotta get going, though.”

“We?”

“Olivia just told me we’d be under her protection at the Lythikos keep and that we’d discuss details later, so on the drive, if you could fill me in on anything else you know, that would be great, Walker.”

Drake moved to open the car door, but Riley shook her head, a few of the tears she’d been fighting starting to trickle down her cheeks as she clutched Drake’s arm, halting him.

“Drake…” 

He took one look at her and grasped both her shoulders tightly, dropping a light kiss to her temple, “It’s gonna be okay, Riley. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or Bridget. But we gotta get out of here. The sooner we enter her duchy, the better.”

“Drake, I’m not taking Bridget to Lythikos,” she croaked out, opening her eyes and taking in his expressions as he tried to understand what she was saying.

“Olivia said-”

“I know. Olivia doesn’t know.”

Drake swallowed roughly before he spoke again, “So where-”

“Greece is apparently the best option from here.”

Another rough swallow, “Did you have any plans to tell me you were running away and taking our daughter to a foreign country?” His voice had a harsh edge to it, but he wasn’t livid yet. But Riley knew it wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge. Not today.

“Drake, I just… I can’t stay and… I would have gotten word to you. I just can’t risk them getting their hands on her. I have to keep her safe.” Riley knew she was rambling, but she just wanted him to understand. It wasn’t about him, it was about doing everything she could to keep her daughter. Hell, there were all those stories about women who lifted cars by themselves to save their babies. Going to hide out in a different country was nothing compared to that.

“Riley, listen to me. This is insane,” Drake kept holding onto her shoulders tightly, but his voice was more desperate, pleading, needy than it had been mere seconds earlier. “We don’t have any luggage or our passports or any of Bridget’s things. If we flee, this gets ten times worse. Come with me to Lythikos. We’ll fight this from there. All of us.”

“What do you mean, all of us?”

“Liam, Hana, Maxwell, Olivia - everyone. Barthelemy right now is in there trying to strip Liam of his title, and I’m no legal scholar, so I have no idea if he has any leg to stand on here. But together we can fight this coup. We will fight this coup.”

Riley just shook her head, tears falling more and more rapidly now. She’d known he would see this as a national matter. But she just couldn’t. Not anymore. “I’m done, Drake.”

“Done?” he pulled back, jerking his hands off her shoulders as if they had scalded him.

“Done being a duchess. Done letting my kid be used as a pawn in fucking political games. Done trusting Liam to sort this out, just waiting for the next shoe to drop. Because the next shoe always drops, Drake. Blackmail and assassins and foreign invasions have been constant, and I’ve haven’t even been here three years! I’m done with Cordonia. I’ve given them enough. I’m not giving them my daughter.”

“Ri-” Drake started, but the words kept flowing out of Riley, all the anger and hurt and fears and struggles just bubbling out, no longer shoved away and ignored.

“This was never supposed to be us! We were never supposed to be raising the heir to the throne! I’m not cut out for this, but I tried. I tried when Liam asked for our kid. I tried when my entire pregnancy was a media circus. I tried when my daughter’s future looked like it was going to be tied up in a foreign marriage alliance. But I am done trying, Drake. Because now they are trying to take my child from me, and I refuse to risk becoming my mother.”

She let out a ragged breath, trying to calm herself. She didn’t have time to get into all this, not now. She needed to be on the road, putting as much distance between her daughter and those asshats and douche nozzles as possible. “I am doing what I need to do to keep my daughter by my side. And if you need to stay and fight this coup, I get it. But Bridget is not going to stay in this country a second longer than she has to, and there is nothing you can say to change my mind.”

Drake just stared at her and Bridget for a few agonizing seconds before nodding at her. “Okay. Yeah… okay.”

Riley tensed slightly at that response, not sure how to interpret his words, but after a moment, Drake continued, “So, we better get going,” tilting his chin towards the town car behind her. “He onboard with the change of plan?”

A little sob escaped Riley as relief washed over her and she sagged forward against Drake’s chest, comforted by the strong, solid arms that immediately wrapped around her and Bridget. She’d been ready to do this alone, she really had. But Drake wasn’t going to let that happen. He hadn’t really let her face much alone since she’d first set foot on Cordonian soil, an impulsive New Yorker with no idea what she was in for. He’d had her back long before he loved her, long before he liked her even. And even now, years later, it still felt like a blessing she never could have expected.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair, “I’ve got you both.”

Riley let out a rough sigh, raising one hand to wipe away the tears still spilling down her cheeks. “Thank you, Drake.”

“Riley, I told you - I’m not gonna let anything happen to you or Bridget. Got it?”

She nodded, pulling back in his arms to meet his gaze and offer him the best smile she could muster. 

“Good. But we need to hit the road. This is already a long “diaper change,” and someone is bound to go looking for us,” he said, taking a step towards the car, sliding his arms from Riley’s back to grab Bridget who had twisted on her hip to grab onto Drake’s shirt. This time, Riley let him take her from her. “Before I put my foot in my mouth in there, I need to know what Ray knows.”

“He thinks Olivia is having him take me wherever I want to go.”

“Got it. You set?” he asked, opening the door for her with one hand as he bounced Bridget on his hip slightly.

“Yeah,” she responded, sliding into the back seat of the town car. Drake was seconds behind her, and as soon as he closed the door behind him, Ray twisted around to face them.

“Ready, Your Graces?”

Riley clutched Drake's hand on the seat next to her and gave Ray a little nod, “Yup. Same plan.”

“Excellent. Just knock if you need anything,” Ray said, turning back to face forward, starting the car and raising the privacy divider between the driver’s and back seats. 

Within seconds, the car was rolling forward. Bridget was babbling, patting her chubby little hands against the window. She loved car rides so much. Drake, on the other hand, sat rigidly straight, staring out the window with her, but clearly just as anxious as Riley that they weren’t even going to make it off the palace grounds without getting stopped. But they barely paused for a few seconds at the guard station before the gates swung open and they turned onto the main road.

Riley let out a massive sigh of relief and Drake closed his eyes and tipped his head back, also letting out a rough breath as he gave her hand a squeeze. As they picked up speed, distancing themselves more and more from the palace, Riley leaned over to rest her head on Drake’s shoulder, smiling up at him as he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. He dropped a long kiss on her forehead before pulling back and nodding at her, slowly and surely. For now, they were safe, and they were together. It was a good first step.

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl   @riley--walker  @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5  @mfackenthal  @thequeenofcronuts  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria  @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs  @drakesensworld​

[forkanna]

WARNING: Very N S F W. Includes sisterly incest, cunnilingus, anal play, tickling, foot worship, and as you probably expected... food kink.

Notes: HAPPY CORONATION DAY! I've been hanging onto this since I posted chapter 5 both because I wanted to make sure it was just right, and I thought it deserved to be released on an important day in the fandom's history: the date Elsa was crowned Queen of Arendelle in 1844. (We know this thanks to some smart cookies on Reddit haha)

So I know this should technically be from Elsa's POV if I continued to follow the convention I set up for myself, but I decided to keep writing it as Anna. It's been her story from the beginning and it should end as her story. Plus it's an epilogue, so it doesn't have to follow the rest of the fic's format! So there! AHAHAHAHA… I don't know, I'm tired.

And YES, this is the end. No sequels, no Epilogues-To-Epilogues; the MSB grand finale. I know a lot of you may have not seen my mention of an epilogue in the notes for last chapter, so hopefully you'll see this! If any of you want to continue Elsa and Anna's story in your own spinoff fanfics, be my guest (but please credit me); otherwise, I consider MSB to be at its natural ending. Hope you all enjoy the last slice!

In all seriousness, thanks to everyone who has waited this long for what is essentially a one-off smutty fic about D*sney sisters to be finished. I owe so much to this story; it changed my life in a very literal, very unexpected way. Elsa and Anna's true love thawed my jaded heart and encouraged me to keep writing, even when I was sank deep in the darkness of a miserable life, and to explore who I am in ways I never felt brave enough to do. I'm in such a better place now than when this began. It's been a pleasure being part of this fandom, and hopefully I will continue to enjoy it for a long time to come.

Until we meet again,

Jessex

[AO3] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

                                                 EPILOGUE

                              Min Søsters Bursdagsmadrass: Anna

                                         ~ Five Months Later ~

Okay, okay, not quite five months have passed since we saved our kingdom from my sister's magic. Closer to four-and-a-half. But the time has flown by so much that it feels more like a week.

Kristoff and Sven came galloping up to the gates just as we were exiting. The ice boy was a lot less shocked that I was arm-in-arm with Elsa than I expected; probably because he pretty much already caught us in flagrante delicto before. He tried to offer congratulations, and I gave him a big hug to cut through all that awkwardness.

Olaf showed up not long after. Well, we came across a puddle that used to be Olaf; I'd know that carrot nose anywhere. Before I could start sobbing, Elsa calmly created a little ice-flurry and rebuilt him as easy as if she were breathing; he was disoriented, but didn't take long to be back to his cheerful self, hugging us and congratulating us on figuring out that we belonged together. That made sense the more I thought about it. Seriously, why wouldn't our snow-baby always know his parents should stay together?

Naturally, there were a few people who came to the levee that didn't condone our love. I wish I could say differently. Most of them were either too afraid to speak out against us — probably because my sister was some kind of ice witch, that tends to make even the bravest of men need a change of underwear — or they were genuinely happy we were happy, and summer was back. But one or two tried to shame us. Didn't go well, considering we were the monarchy and surrounded by supporters. More insisted we needed a king, at the very least for the purpose of heirs. I tried to tell them that Olaf was our heir, which got a lot of weird looks, but Elsa insisted that it was our decision if and when we crossed that bridge. I guess that's why she's the queen, right? I mean, can you imagine me as the queen of Arendelle? No way!

Hans was tried and convicted of treason against the kingdom. I didn't even go; I didn't want to look at him again if I could help it. But I watched from the castle walls with my sister as they led him away to a ship bound for the Southern Isles. We figured his family would make sure the sentence was severe if they wanted to maintain a good trade partnership with Arendelle. Plus, we wouldn't have to deal with him still being in our home. Win-win.

We also shipped old Weaseltown out. He can peacock-strut and backstab on his own turf.

Everything flew by a lot faster after those first few days. Kristoff was our new icemaster general — totally a real title, thank you — and Olaf's cheery presence got everyone used to the idea of magic. The people slowly grew to accept that their queen had a queen of her own. At first, we tried not to be too open with our relationship, but even though everybody thinks of me as the free spirit, it was Elsa who decided we should begin taking walks through the kingdom, hand-in-hand. At first, we got a few stinkeyes, but little by little, they saw we were happy, and not hurting anyone with our taboo love, and… it just became normal, I guess.

Which is fantastic! I mean, if they didn't I would have bought a whole collection of lutes to start smacking them with, but that didn't turn out to be necessary. Good thing; a co-queen shouldn't brawl with her subjects. Looks kinda bad.

As we hit the middle of December and the weather was turning colder without my sister's influence, I started scheming. We had enjoyed four wonderful months of getting to know each other all over again. Even though I'm basically a big ball of libido, somehow Elsa convinced me that we shouldn't just start banging each other's brains out every day. How dare she! But I have to admit, having that sex-free courtship time was somehow a magic all its own.

Because we were behind. By thirteen years. I found out just how well-read my sister was, since she had ploughed through book after book when she wasn't trying to practice controlling her magic. That was something we had in common, since I was often equally bored; it turned out we had read a lot of the same books, and we could compare our thoughts and feelings about them over many, many cups of tea. She never did start talking to paintings like I did, but when I introduced them to her, at least she was bemusedly giggling behind her hand instead of openly mocking me, or telling me I needed medical attention. And we went horseback riding, and swimming, ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. Started going through our parents' things at last, painful though it was. Learned about the kind of adults we had become since we last knew each other as children.

And kissed, sure. Just because we didn't start rolling around in the bed sheets right away didn't mean I was going to let us be complete prudes.

However… my sister's birthday was fast approaching, and I knew I had to do something big. Maybe in a literal sense. So the scheming turned to plotting, and the plotting turned to planning. And then the plans got put in motion leading up to her big day.

                                                      ~ o ~

"Alright, alright, Olaf! I'm going!"

"Sorry, Elsa, but there's no time to waste!" I could hear him replying to her from the other side of the door. I could just barely see her slippered feet and his snow stumps through the crack underneath. So weird doing that from the inside this time… "I guess. I've never had a birthday, but Anna told me this is your biggest one yet, and we got a schedule to keep!"

"Okay, little guy," she laughed at him easily. Even though I couldn't see, I could just picture her petting over his head. "Thank you."

"Yep! And oh, I was supposed to do something else, it was… yeeeessss! Anna told me I should 'get lost for the rest of the day'. So I guess my question is, does that mean until sundown? Or midnight? And how lost do I have to get? I can get lost just in this castle, it's so big, but she was pointing at the gates when she said it…"

"Tell you what. Why don't you go pay Kristoff and Sven a visit? That should be far enough."

"But I won't be lost if I know where I'm going," he told her in a patient tone, as if she were the one who was missing something instead.

"My mistake," she laughed fondly. "Just have a little adventure outside of the castle and we will see you in the morning."

"Okie-dokie! Have fun, don't do anything I wouldn't do! Or do, because you're not me, so you should be doing things I wouldn't do? Maybe? Especially if I'm going to be getting lost and you don't need to be lost. I don't know if that's exactly…"

He was still talking by the time his voice started to fade around the corner. The rest of the sentence was cut off by Elsa knocking on my door.

"Go away, Elsa," I called back at her in an exaggeratedly pouty tone.

"Anna," she sighed. "Yes, I know I was the one saying that to you for a decade of our lives, but this joke is starting to get a little old now."

"Whaaaaaat? No, I don't think so."

"It's officially old as of today. Now, may I come in, or will you be coming out?"

"Think we both already did that last part," I giggled. "Did you, um, prepare?"

"For the love of- yes! Though I don't know why, I let Gerda bathe me thoroughly, and now I am standing outside your door, scrubbed raw and regretting that I listened to her, because you are being a pain in the-"

She didn't finish that thought because I unlocked the door just then. But I didn't open it for her. I was too busy scampering across the floor of my chambers to stand by the bed, grinning from ear-to-ear like a loon. And don't judge, okay? I'd been planning this for a long time.

"Um…" The door creaked open, and one of her baby blues peered around the inside of the darkened room. The sun had already set, so it was only the moonlight and the single candle on my bedside table providing illumination. "A-Anna?"

"Please enter," I said in a pretentiously royal tone.

"Oh, your robe is like mine," she said with a small smile as she eased the door shut behind her.

"Yep! Silk, from the East! I mean, you fill yours out a little better — especially up top. But that's one of the gifts. And I figured, hey, might as well get one for me, too!"

Barely glancing down at the blue silk covering her sizable assets, she shook her head with a small laugh. "It's very nice, thank you. But I thought I told you I didn't want you to make a big deal about my birthday; we should be focused on the Yule festivities for the kingdo-"

"No, no, no," I teased her with a wave of my index finger, bouncing on my heels excitedly. "This is the first time in thirteen years I have been able to celebrate this with you. Give me this one, okay?"

"When can we stop saying the number thirteen and start really enjoying our lives again?"

"When it's been fourteen years. Now… can you take that robe off and hop up on the bed for me?"

Oh, that shrewd little smirk that blossomed on my sister's face. It was both breathtakingly beautiful and super sexy. She was all the time, anyway, but there were moments that it stood out a lot more. "Ahhhh. So that's what all this is about, is it? You think tonight we are going to break our courtship."

"Mmmmaybe. But even if we don't, I still want more with you tonight. If that's okay," I added hastily, fidgeting with my hands behind my back.

"I see." Elsa stepped forward to smooth her hands up and down the green silk covering my chest, teasing her fingernails over my neck. Definitely not making it any easier to stop my lady parts from launching a hostile takeover of my brain, I can tell you! "And… this is very important to you, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah." Clearing my throat, I said, "And I understand why courting was important to you. And it's been great! Really, I loved getting to know you all over again, and we have been having so much fun. But… maybe just a little playing tonight? Please?"

As she glared across into my eyes, I brought my thumb and forefinger up between our faces, half an inch apart. That was all it took to make her burst out laughing.

"That little, hmm?" she finally chuckled as my cheeks burned. "Okay. I assume once I am in position, you will tackle me on this bed?"

"Yeah. Well, not 'tackle', but I'll join you. I just want you to feel how soft it is first."

That got Elsa's eyebrows raising in slight surprise. "Soft, hm? Did you get yourself a new bed for my birthday?"

"I dunno, did I?" I gasped. Hoping my acting skills were at least good enough to hide how excited I was.

Not quite. But at least Elsa hadn't fully figured out my cunning scheme. She pointed at my face and hissed under her breath, "There had better not be anyone hiding in here."

"Hiding? Wait, why would I stick anybody else in here and then tell you to take off your clothes?"

"How should I know? Sometimes you have a really strange sense of humour, Anna."

"Not that strange! Surprise creepy people sounds plain old mean!" But before she could say anything else, I placed a hand over my heart and raised the other one. "I do hereby solemnly pledge that nobody is going to jump out of the wardrobe at you. Or anything else like that."

"Fine, I believe you," she laughed as she stepped from her slippers and let the silk fall from her shoulders, exposing her smooth, pale back. Even now that we had been going for walks and rides, she was still white as alabaster, despite the alternating tans and sunburns I had.

"Mmm…"

"Again, my birthday seems to be full of gifts for you," she accused playfully with a little glance over her shoulder at me as she approached the bed, moving to climb atop it. "Little pervAAAHHH?!"

SPLAT.

Nope, I definitely couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped my arms around my middle and burst out into gales of laughter, shaking all over and trying my best not to fall down. "ELSA! Your face — you should see your face!"

"I'm- what is- ANNA!" my poor sister finally burst out as she slipped and slid everywhere, defiling all my hard work. "What is the meaning of this?! What IS this, where did- is this CAKE?!"

Cackling and bouncing up and down as I clapped my hands, I finally crowed, "YES! Isn't it incredible?! Doesn't it look just like my bed? I mean, it did before you jumped on it, but even still, the rest of it!"

God, she looked hilarious. I was laughing, but was doing my best not to actually point at Elsa while I did it. And anyone would have laughed; her face covered in so much chocolate and frosting, a huge chunk falling from her chin to splash onto her right breast even while she blinked at me in wonder. Never had our regal queen looked so un-regal.

"You… made… a bed-sized cake… just to play this prank on me." She scraped some of the frosting from her eyelids and flicked it away, turning slightly so she could kneel on the layers of confection. That only made me laugh so hard I snorted like a pig. "This is… I have no words. I literally have no words, I could never have anticipated this."

"Aww, don't be grumpy," I teased breathlessly as I got rid of my own robe, dropping it right next to hers. "Just because I got you good this time! You freaked out, it was the most amazing thing I've watched in my whole life!"

"Yes, well, the show is ov- Anna, what are you doing now? Don't tell me- are you going to jump into this cake with me?! That's insane!"

I hesitated. "Well… I was before you called it 'insane'…" But then I approached the edge of the bed, hands on my hips. No way was I going to chicken out that easily. "This wasn't just a prank. I really wanted to do this for you."

That finally got her to laugh, and when she started she found it hard to stop. I laughed with her, watching her slap her caked thigh a few times. But before I could join her on the bed, she suddenly breathed, "Insane… but beautiful. I've never seen a woman more lovely in the entire world."

My heart skipped over a beat, and I hoped she couldn't tell how hard my nipples were in the low light. "Ahhhhh, now you're just lying. We both know you own a mirror."

"Nice try," she laughed, biting her sugar-coated lip for a moment to weather my counter-compliment. Then she tilted her head slightly while asking, "Why? This is the strangest surprise I have ever received — and that includes that certain birthday of yours. But I can tell it means a lot to you, so could you help me…?"

Great. Now I had to actually face the music, and it was going to take a lot of exposing of feelings. So I took a deep breath before throwing my inhibitions to the wind... and letting my knees sink into the cake.

"That is so wrong," I groaned, feeling one of my eyes twitch.

"I know. But once you get used to it, it's… still wrong, but interesting." She was leaning slightly on one arm, moving her legs out to one side. Always so ladylike, even in a big mound of baked sweetness.

"So here it is," I sighed. "You and me, even when we were really little… chocolate was our soft spot. We could never resist it. And especially after my birthday, when we bonded over it again… I knew your birthday had to be something big, since I could finally celebrate it with you. Something that mattered to both of us. And fun! I thought fun was really important, too. Took me a while to figure out just how I wanted to do this, but once I had this idea, I just… I knew. This was the only thing that would be good enough."

Though she had been listening with a small smile, my last sentence wiped it away. Why? What did I say wrong? Her cake-slicked hand lifted to caress my cheek.

"Anna, anything would have been good enough. Even if this had turned out to be a normal bed, I would have been so happy. How much you spend, how much you plan these gifts, it's sweet but you don't have to go to so much trouble. Don't you know my favourite gift is you?"

My lips only got the chance to part very slightly — when she booped me. She booped my nose with frosting on that finger. The Queen of Arendelle, everybody.

"You little stinker." But her words kept me from retaliating. "You… you mean that, huh? That I'm enough?"

"I do." Her lips pecked mine. "You always have been. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to show you until these past few months. But now, I get to make up for lost time."

Sliding closer, I whispered, "Same here."

And that was as far as I could get before I was attacking her mouth. Elsa welcomed me gratefully, humming as she pulled my body closer. I knew she was getting cake all over me, but I had kind of resigned myself to that when I concocted this whole crazy scheme. Literally concocted.

Which was what she asked about next. "How long did this take to bake?"

"Oh, a couple of days. The trick was keeping the parts we already made fresh so they wouldn't spoil before we finished the rest of it. Kristoff helped me with that, grabbed me a few blocks of ice; normally I would ask you to do it with a little magic, but I mean, since it was a surprise for you that would have been pretty stupid."

"Yes, I suppose so," she giggled, rubbing her fingertips against each other experimentally. "Smooth frosting… buttercream?"

"Of course! And I wanted to add a bunch of berries, but then it wouldn't have looked like my bed, because I don't normally have a bunch of berries on it." While Elsa laughed again, I slipped my arms around her waist. "And yeah, I know you still think it's weird I wanted to be in a cake like this. Plus it's a big waste of food. But for just this one birthday, the first one since we reunited, I wanted to give you something so big it was literally all around us. Like we're part of the cake instead of just the other way around."

Her voice was so gentle and warm when she responded, "I believed you the first time, Anna. But thank you for elaborating. I love knowing how you think, how your mind works. My amazing, clever sister."

Again, we kissed, deeper and longer and with no inhibitions. We tried to restrain ourselves when we were out in public, of course, but alone in my room? Nobody looking over our shoulders? Free as wild horses.

By the time we came up for air, I was no longer the clean one because we had been rolling around in the cake-bed. Sure, I still felt guilty for putting the castle cooks through so much work just so we could wreck it, but at least Kristoff and I gave them a hand — and I gave them the day off once they were through. Anyway, basically the only places where chocolate and frosting hadn't accumulated multiple layers was our faces, because they were so close to each other that nothing could get in between them.

"Are we supposed to be eating any of this?" Elsa laughed, running her finger through some on my shoulder.

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't have done this if it was just for show; this might as well have been a big frosted mud pie." Then I held up…

"Anna, where could you possibly have been hiding that?!"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Elsa merely blinked at me for a few seconds until I caved. "Okay, I had it in my butt."

"What- that sounds incredibly painful!"

"No, no, I was just clenching my cheeks on the handle. Obviously! Like I used the handle outside your door that first time. Come on, do you really think anybody would stick the pointy part into anywhere that sensitive?"

"Well, it is you," she laughed as she reached for the fork. Our fork. "Though I suppose I admire the control you have over your muscles back there." Then she hesitated, her brow furrowing. I could figure out what was holding her back.

"I also took one of Gerda's very thorough baths," I informed her to put her fears at ease. Which made her finally take it with a slight shake of her head. "Oh — and I helped one of the servants mop the floor before we got started in here. Trust me, when I say you can eat off the floor, I really mean it this time."

"You really have thought of everything; such attention to detail. It's almost a little scary."

"Love makes you a little scary sometimes, I guess."

"I guess." Then she slid the fork through some of the cake that we hadn't already rolled in, bringing it up to my lips. "After you."

"Oh! Wait… you first, it's your birthday."

"Diving into it counted as me going first," she chuckled. "Besides, I tasted a little on your lips once they caught some from my lips. Go on." And since I had no argument against that, and she was looking at me with those bemused, insistent eyes, I took the bite into my mouth.

"Ohmyghob, ibzo goob!"

"Anna, manners." Which I could appreciate the irony, since there were very little manners involved in rolling around in a giant cake. Probably. Maybe they do that more often in Corona…

"You have GOT to try this," I gushed once I had swallowed, grabbing the fork and scooping up another big bite for my sister.

"Can't I have a different fork?" But I wasn't budging. And she knew how important that particular utensil was to the both of us. "Gerda bathed you the same way she bathed me, didn't she?"

"It was like standing in a geyser."

"Fine." She accepted her first proper bite. Her blue eyes slid closed in ecstasy as she hummed her approval, eventually nodding after she had chewed for a moment.

"Amazing, right?" All she did was nod, raising a hand to give the okay symbol. So I helped myself to another bite, clutching my hand to my chest as tears welled up in my eyes.

Seriously, it was that good. Best cake I ever had in my life, up to and including the one with my sister's extra frosting.

"Okay," Elsa panted a couple minutes later when we had eaten our fill for the moment. "I was teasing you before, but I take it all back; I do want to live here and sleep here."

"Surrounded by layers of chocolatey goodness?" I giggled as I flopped onto my back, spread eagle in piles of sweet perfection. It was like Heaven, or Valhalla or whatever you believe is the good afterlife.

"Exactly. Fun and function." I glanced over to see she was lying on her side, propped up on one elbow so she could look down at me with a smile full of so much affection that my heart skipped a beat. "So very you."

At first all I did was chuckle a little and smile up at her. But then when she leaned down to kiss my chest, I let my eyes fall closed as a little sigh escaped my lips. "Mmm…"

"You were after something like this, I believe?"

Opening my eyes again, I was just in time to see her tongue slide across the meat of my right breast, the one closest to her. The track of freckled skin she revealed by cutting through the chocolate confection gleamed from her saliva, and it was somehow both offensive and arousing at the same time.

"Y-yeah. Something like that." I cleared my throat and caressed along her back, through cake and hair. "But you don't have to. If that whole courting thing is so-"

"We can take a break," she interrupted with an impish smile. "One night, for both Yule and my birthday. And for you, because I know how hard it has been to keep your hands off me."

A blast of air exploded from my lungs as she licked again. "HAH! W-wow, somebody's conceited in here, and I think her name rhymes with… with, uh…"

"With what? Jelsa?"

"No, that's not a thing."

I was still trying to think of a rhyme for her name when she found my nipple, and my squeal blasted every thought out of both of our minds. My chest was a feast for my sister for the moment as my conscious thoughts faded, simply letting her enjoy me. Because I enjoyed it just as much. A few times, she hit the nerves just right that I twitched, digging my nails briefly into her back and making her hiss in response. Some extra added fun.

Then she started moving down my stomach. I knew where she was going; this wasn't our first time trying this particular activity. But the butterflies were as fresh as ever, and my thighs tried to trap her head there.

"Oh, not tonight?" she purred.

"Reflex," I panted shortly, trying not to laugh at the cake all over her face now. Because even though it was funny, it also wasn't… since she was about to go to town on me.

Oh, she did. She really, really did — and it blew my mind so much more this time, somehow. Maybe it was because for the past few months, I only had that fork handle for company in my bed. Being pent up and needy tends to make the release ten times stronger, you know.

"Elsa!" I whined after a few hours. Okay, it was probably a minute or two, but it felt like so long! "You're really… how did you… get this good?!"

By the time she came up for air to answer me, she was gripping my ass cheeks to hold my pelvis closer to her face. "You're worth trying my best for, Anna. And… I may have practiced on an ice-replica." When I laughed at that, a frosting-smeared eyebrow arched. "Ooh…"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Your backside is so firm, and I felt it flexing in my hands. Powerful."

"Y-yeah, I exercise a lot. Could probably pick up a gold coin with it."

"Really?" I felt her poking around back there, and I clenched — again, reflex. "Wow. Do you think… you could squeeze this?"

Before I had any chance to ask a question or protest, I felt a finger sliding between my cheeks. What in the fjord was Elsa doing?! It felt wrong, and disturbing… and hot? Was it hot somehow?! Maybe, but only because it was her, and she had already been going down on me, I'm pretty sure; if anybody else had tried that, especially when I wasn't already chomping at the bit to get off, their hand would be kindling for the fireplace in the corner.

So don't let anybody tell you Elsa is a prude who would never do anything like that. That whole regal facade is just a smoke screen. She can get just as wild as me.

"Wow, your muscles really are strong," Elsa breathed in honest surprise, not just teasing me. "I'm impressed."

Freya, I tried so hard to hold it together. To control my reaction. But as she dragged her finger back from my crack, brushing the little forbidden spot that I had been trying not to think about, I shivered and let out a little moan. Dooming myself.

"Anna?"

"Yes! I m-mean, hello, yeah, you can… you can start back in on the goods now! Remember my goods? Right there in front of you?"

"No, wait. Did you enjoy…?" Probably trying to spare me some embarrassment, she didn't finish the sentence. Instead, she raised her frosting-covered finger and flexed it in my field of vision.

"Oh, did I really get cake in there, too? Sheeze, we've really been going crazy!"

My nervous laughter made it way too obvious I was just trying to distract my sister. Why was I so bad at that sometimes? She looked at me suspiciously for a moment, then glanced at the finger, then back at me.

"Anna-"

"Please, can we not-"

"Anna, it's okay. If you want me to leave that alone, I will; I was only asking how you felt about it. That's all."

Though her words didn't dial back my embarrassment, it soothed away the anxiety spike. "Oh. Well… no, I didn't mind that much. Not really. It's just because… like, after all you've been doing to my clit and tits, I'm kind of sensitive… everywhere. So it was pretty interesting, but I would never ask you to do it again! That's too big a favour!"

Elsa thought that over for a moment, and I finally started to relax. Then she kissed my inner thigh. "Just relax, my love. My Lord Anna." I groaned, thinking back to the coronation ball. Even though it all worked out okay. "I'll take care of you. And all you have to do is ask, and I will stop or change what I am doing. You can always talk to me, alright?"

"Okay," I said, completely relieved. My queen was so sweet to me, always taking care of me as much as she could. Making me feel safe.

Well, I did feel a little less safe when she started kissing closer to my behind. And then when I felt two thumbs pulling the cheeks apart, I wriggled all over and gasped out, "WHOA! Elsa, are you- you're not gonna-"

"Just going to try to get the cake in here," she laughed softly. "Unless you have objections."

Did I? The whole thing was too weird to have any objections. And while I was still trying to come up with one, I felt that wriggling tongue press somewhere I had never wanted or needed it to go. Was Elsa really doing this? She really didn't mind? We did enough wrong and taboo things already that this just seemed like one step too far! But the way she was going at my ass suggested she didn't agree.

And it was… different. Not good, not bad; just unsettling even while it was stimulating. When she was still at it a minute later with no signs of stopping, one of my hands started trailing the handle of that trusty fork down my stomach. Maybe, if I could take care of the main attraction, a little sideshow in the back room wouldn't be so bad.

"Mm?" she hummed, tongue still sliding over my taut skin. She must have seen my fingers moving, because she drew back with a chuckle. "Oh, did you need me to move along?"

"Y-yeah, Elsa, I… we could try that again later, but right now I'm…"

With a solemn nod, she went right back to going down on me. Who could complain about a girlfriend like that? Just takes care of my needs without any complaint. What an angel.

"Oh ffff- MMM!" Yeah, I had to scream into my hand to let out some of my energy. Luckily, it wasn't the one holding the fork or I might have stabbed myself in the face. A minute later, I gasped, "Elsa! I'm almost there! Almost there!"

My sister did not slow down until I actually was there. It felt like she had six tongues instead of two — which she might actually have been able to pull off if she used her ice powers, but I didn't feel her mouth get any colder. I came so hard and shook all over, and the whole time Elsa just held onto my hips and devoured me like I was the best cake she had ever tried. Which was probably how she felt.

Once my heat faded, she lowered me into the cake again and smirked. "That happened awfully quickly for someone who didn't like me playing with her a little lower than usual."

"Y-yeah! Well… you… let me get pent up for multiple months!"

"That is fair. I hope my apology was satisfactory."

Pretending to think real hard about it, I screwed up my face and tapped my chin. Elsa laughed. "Weeeeeelllllllllll… on one condition."

"What condition?" She started when I moved to pin her to the bed. "Oh!"

"This one." My chosen target was her neck. She shivered a little when I ran my tongue along it, enjoying the rich chocolate mixing with the light purity of her skin. I wanted to eat Elsa whole.

"Anna… you… make it hard to breathe."

"Elsa…"

"N-no, I… I'm really-!"

With a shock, I realized she meant the way my hand was pushing into the middle of her abdomen. "OH! Shit, Elsa, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" As she took a deep breath, I caressed her side. "Better? Man, I am just really dumb sometimes…"

Elsa pulled me down into her embrace. "We already covered that. You are not dumb. You have never been dumb."

"You sure? I mean, not that I'm trying to argue with you, but you keep saying that and then I keep doing dumb things."

"Because you're excited. I am, too; I've just had a lot more practice... controlling myself."

For good reason. But since she wasn't judging me, I pushed myself back up to begin devouring the cake covering her ribs and stomach. She giggled a couple of times, and I smiled at the way her abdominal muscles flexed under my lips, bumping up against my nose. I could have kept eating off her and exploring her for hours and never got bored. Not once.

"Mmhhh, this really is so good," I sighed as I got closer and closer to the finish line. "The cake, you… who could ask for more?"

"I'm glad you… approve." But I could tell she was nervous. Why? It's not like this was the first time we had done anything like this; just the first in a little while.

"Elsa?" She didn't answer right away. Watching her bite her lip and look anxious was cute, but I still prompted her, "Hey. You okay?"

"What? Oh… yes, I'm fine." My face must have looked extra unconvinced, because a second later, she relented. "I'm still a little afraid of losing control of my powers when I…"

"When you what? Oh, wait, you're- right, got it, you don't need to explain. But hey, even when you've done that before, all you did was give me a little extra blast of snow. I don't mind a cold cake."

Tittering the slightest amount, despite the fear in her eyes, she reached down to run her fingers through my sugar-matted fringe. "Neither of us do. And I know you're probably right, but I can't help but worry I will hurt you for a third time. I don't think I could take that."

"Me, either. But you won't. I hear you, I do, but I know you have a handle on this now. You've been doing so good! Nobody in Arendelle is scared of you anymore. So just… let me do the magic this time."

That was that. Even though she was still biting her lip, her brow still creased, she didn't protest further as I kissed the inside of her thigh, devouring the frosting I found there. But I still didn't like that she was wound up so tight. So I figured hey, why not try to loosen her up?

"So, if I get a couple of fingers in you and really start going to town… does that make this pound-cake?"

Oh, now she looked mad. I barely had enough time to register the movement before her foot was pushing into my face, trying to shove me off the bed entirely.

"Hey, whoa whoa, Elsa! Come on, I'm sorry!"

"Why don't I believe you?" she demanded in a would-be stern voice. The answer might have been because I was laughing up a storm. But I caught sight of her smile, which told me she was just trying to mess around with me. One of the many things I had been missing over the past thirteen years.

"Truce! I'll keep my corny jokes to myself if you don't shove me the rest of the way off this bed!" Really, I already had to whip one leg back and brace against the floor to keep from falling as it was. But she slowly began to relent. "Thank you."

"I ought to put my finger back in your 'fork holder' for that one," she grunted.

"It was one time! I don't go around carrying forks back there all the time, you know!"

"Actually, no, I don't know that. Because I never inspect the back of your dress when you are casually walking down the halls."

"You could, though…" As she just shook her head at me, I decided to get a little more playful.

"AH! Not my feet — don't bite my feet, you know how ticklish iyyyahahahhaaaa!"

Too late. My teeth were nibbling all over her chocolatey toes in retaliation for almost being knocked on my butt. The way she began kicking was extremely dangerous, but at least now my childhood memories were intact; I remembered learning by watching our father that you had to hold her leg steady when you tickled her, or you were asking for an eyeful of flailing heel.

"STOP!" she cackled. "I'm- I am about to ruin this cake! Anna!"

Right away, I broke off with a laugh. No matter how much fun I was having, it wasn't worth ruining an entire cake-bed by making her wet herself. "Okay, okay. Yellow frosting is as bad as yellow snow, I guess."

"You… monster!" But she was still laughing a little, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling in an attempt to regain her breath. Which looked like she had been doing something else.

Flawless. I was head over heels, alright.

"Sorry. But do you know how cute you are when you get tickled?"

Clearing her throat, she pushed up onto her elbows before answering me. "That is… because I didn't get to run around outside the way you did. Not after my ninth birthday. So my feet are…"

Oh. Well that was a sad reason for them to be extra sensitive. But I decided to simply kiss the one I had been attacking and say, "Perfect. You were gonna say 'perfect' right? Because that's the only answer I'm accepting right now."

Shaking her head a little at me, she let out an exasperated sigh that was followed by a small smile. "You're too kind to me."

"Nah. Just know you deserve the best."

Again, I kissed, and she hummed as her smile grew. When my lips parted to let my tongue slide between two of her toes, she rolled her eyes and pulled her foot away. "Fine, I get it, you love every inch of me."

"Glad we got that straightened out. Now, I have my eye on a couple of pastries… one sec."

Her hand raised up to rest on the back of my head when I attacked her chest. I figured she would probably appreciate having some time to recover before I went back between her thighs. The sounds floating out of her lungs were every bit as enthralling as if I had gone straight for the crux of her thighs, of course, but at least this way I could enjoy my cake a little longer.

"You are… so persistent." I switched to the other peak, my hand wrapping around the mountain below and kneading just enough to add pressure and pleasure without causing pain. "Mmmhh, and I almost want to ask if you have been practicing on someone else!"

"Maybe I made an ice-replica," I shot at her as I moved back down. Her grin was so huge. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's do this."

"You make it sound like you're about to go cliff-diving!" she laughed.

"Oh, I am. I'm about to dive down deep into your sound."

Elsa's lips parted, probably to reprimand me for another corny line. But all that came out was a moan when I pressed my mouth tightly against her soft folds through the frosting and chocolate. And I intended to clean every speck of that from her by the time I was finished.

My Elsa. My queen of snow and ice, grace and beauty and power. The only woman in the world. My mind and heart were full of desire for the goddess I was making writhe with my every teasing touch. And it wasn't just that she was the most beautiful girl in Arendelle, not that she had given me an orgasm so recently. This was about way more than repaying a debt or physical beauty; it was my sister. The one person who had always been a part of me, and who always will.

"A-Anna!" she gasped — well, she had been doing that for a couple of minutes, but this one was louder and stronger. Somehow, I just knew what she meant. "I'm… I'm still scared! I love you!"

I loved her, too. But I wanted to show her in some way besides slowing down to tell her with words. So I moved one hand from her hip to push our fork into hers, which had been clutching uselessly at another pile of birthday cake. And wow, did she respond! My hand was caught with the fork between our fingers, and it was such a tight grip that I felt like she would never let me go again.

Which did as much for me as I might have been doing for her.

There was more snow this time. Somehow, I had kind of expected that; I mean, when you tell an ice witch that she shouldn't hold back with her power, you're going to get more power. Makes sense, right? But even while I was still feeling her flesh pulse against my lips and tongue, her juices running down my chin, tiny pinpricks of cold were dusting my back in the spots that weren't covered by chocolate.

"Oh," I panted when I finally came up for air, satisfied that she no longer needed little licks for little aftershocks. "Snow! See? I told you everything would be fine. And this isn't even that bad!"

Though of course, we were both looking around at the winter wonderland filling the room. It was only a couple of inches deep, but spread over that large an area it still added up to a decent amount.

"It's… a lot," she panted. "But at least there aren't any… nothing dangerous."

Scoffing, I crawled up to lay my head on her shoulder, curling my entire body around hers as tightly as I could. Needing to be that close to her now. "Dangerous? You? Come on, you're a big pussycat."

"We both know… that's… a stretch." Finally, she cleared her throat and simply took in a couple of deep breaths so she wouldn't be so winded. Then she turned to look into my eyes with a smile full of afterglow and affection. "Thank you. For that, for all of this; for my perfect birthday night."

"Yeah. You got it. I'm always going to show you how much I love you, no matter how big I have to go to get the point across."

"Anna, you don't have to. I already know." We shared a firm kiss. Then she crinkled her nose. "Oh, that's… did you really enjoy me adding that to your cake? It's so strange."

"Maybe I wouldn't have if I didn't know what it was," I admitted with a giggle. "But knowing? Oh yeah. Totally hot."

"If you say so." Then she suddenly looked horrified. "Oh no — my lips have- you were kissing-"

"All I tasted was Sister-Queen and cake," I headed her off before she actually said it out loud. "Don't have to make it even more gross. Seriously, you didn't run away from my butt? I thought that would be a fate worse than death!"

"No, no," she reassured me, completely contented now that we had both enjoyed ourselves and could relax. "I wasn't lying for your benefit; it wasn't that bad. Especially when mixed with chocolate cake. Though I agree with you about my essence on this subject; probably wouldn't have enjoyed it not knowing what it is, or by itself. Well…"

Running my index fingertip in small circles on her stomach, I prompted, "Well?"

"I could try it by itself. Maybe. Someday."

"Go ahead. I won't… well, I might judge a little, but since we're already sisters who knock boots, it's not gonna hold a lot of water."

"Mmhmm. I suppose that's a valid point."

"Ohhhhh, I just wanna lay here forever!" I burst out as I curled even harder around Elsa, and she laughed again, nuzzling into my hair. "Though I do have another bath ready in the next chamber. I'm no doctor, but it's probably not the best idea for us to leave cake in some of the places we have cake right now."

Nodding, she whispered, "In a minute. This is so comfortable. Actually, I'm surprised we're not sinking all the way down to the floor."

"Oh — yeah, that's because we took a bed-sized wooden box and made the cake on top of that. Like, it's pretty much a bunch of little cakes smushed together in a grid pattern to make one huge sheet cake, and then we just put the icing all over it and down the sides with the right colours and patterns. So it looked like a real bed, with a quilt and all."

"Clever," she chuckled, scratching at my rib cage just enough to prompt a giggle from me before she stopped. "Really, I was flabbergasted at first, but now I really admire all the work you did for this. Because it turned out to be a lot of fun."

Her praise made my heart glow. "It did, didn't it? Chocolate cake slumber party. Go me."

We both fell into the kind of comfortable silence you can only have with family. Lover, sister, friend… Elsa was all of those things to me. And we had beaten all the odds and found our way back to each other, and we were alive, and our lives were wonderful. There wasn't much else I could ask for.

"I love you, my Anna," she breathed into my hair before rolling over to prop herself up on her elbow and look at me. I mirrored the gesture, gazing into her eyes.

"Love you, too, Majesty. And I always will."

Elsa kissed me hard and long, and held me close for such a long time that time itself ceased to hold meaning. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill anniversary of being born, but I finally knew: what we had? Different-good. The best kind of different a princess could ask for.

                                                      ~ Takk for Reisen ~