#but maybe you get to ride in the little basket crown

[story-threads]

looking for public domain art of mechs is basically impossible but in the process of looking found: this thing.

(thanks to LOC's public domain collections: http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.rbc/rosenwald.0007.1 Valturio, Roberto, 1405-1475. De re militari.)

[florencemtrash]

Flame, Shadow, Beast : Flame

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Fluffy Eris x Reader and our favorite monster, Bryaxis, makes an appearance.

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It was a cruel irony that winning a war was the easiest part of ruling. Eris thought about it often, doubts invading his rare moments of quiet; Maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe the lives of thousands of Autumn Court members - both those loyal to him and to his father - hadn’t been worth the weight of the crown now sitting on his head.

The wood and gold had been harvested from the body of one of the Old Gods to whom some of the rural folk still owed their ultimate allegiance; the rubies had come from a land beyond the western seas as a declaration of war back when they’d been ruled by a more ancient race of beings - the predecessors to the Blood Rubies the Summer Court was so fond of doling out. Eris wondered if he’d ever get used to carrying so much history on his body. 

The sun had barely crested over the treetops, blanketing the forest floor with streams of liquid gold, when he came across your village. The first fae he saw - a female with short elk horns extending gracefully from her temples - nearly dropped her basket at the sight of him. Eris gently bowed his head in greeting and her face flushed as crimson as the red garment dye that stained her hands. 

“My High Lord,” She breathed out, dropping to her knees despite the prickling straw that perpetually littered the roads.

Heads of varying shades of chestnut and scarlet appeared behind closed windows like candlights. During the harvest months everyone woke and slept with the sun. 

One by one fae streamed out of their homes, each of them carrying tribute in the form of freshly baked bread, baskets of apples and peaches, sheepskin cloaks, and barrels of mead. 

“Stand.” Eris gently commanded them as they fell to their knees, “We’re just passing through.” He could see the hesitation in their eyes. They feared disrespecting him. 

Eight years of being High Lord and he had yet to perfect the delicate balance between distance and familiarity with his people. 

Halvor coughed from beside him, eyes raised from beneath the shadow of his bronze helm.

Get off your horse and talk to them. His eyes said, repeating the mantra that you liked to say around the royal pair.

Eris understood and dismounted with grace and power. With his scarlet and gold riding cloak, flaming hair, and ruby crown he looked like the spirit of Autumn come to life - all sharp edges and burning stoicism. He was a living fire.

But fire could give warmth as much as pain - nurture and grow as much as it could raze the world to the ground. So Eris took his time to speak with the people. He sampled their mead and ale, complimented the pixies who wove threads of warm oranges, yellows, and reds with their nimble fingers, and visited the rolling fields of corn, barley, and wheat that waved in the brisk breeze. The gray-tinged sky above tasted of power and freedom. 

Under Beron’s reign, the fruits of the fields would have fallen entirely under the purview of the High Lord with little remaining for the people who tended the long grasses. Now that they were allowed to own their own land and keep what was due to them, the air was lighter here, happier. It was the first harvest in a long time where they’d feel comfortable enough to celebrate properly.

The mask ebbed away, leaving him feeling lighter than he had in ages as he walked through a town.

A familiar face stared out from behind the small crowd that had gathered by the wheat fields. Talk of this year’s harvest festival rose in the air until everyone could taste the spiced rum, roasted pistachios, caramelized apples, and pumpkin with fresh cream on their tongues. It was still months away, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t get excited now. 

Eris broke away - an easy task when they parted ways for him like a hot knife through butter - and approached your smiling figure.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long.” You said, clasping your hands behind your back and smiling at Eris.

“So you came all this way just to investigate?” Eris arched his brow. You were no stranger to these people (and much beloved), but you preferred to keep to your little cottage beyond the town.

“Surprisingly, yes. For you, I would come all this way. And,” You shook the small parcel in your arm, “For Aliona’s candles.”

He grinned and offered you his arm, which you accepted, and quietly began to walk back to where Halvor had been dutifully waiting with the horses… and taking more than a few samples of drinks from beside his stead. 

“I also wanted to make sure he hadn’t killed you in your sleep yet.” You said, tilting your head towards his brother. 

“Careful, Y/n.”

Halvor was the youngest of Autumn’s trueborn sons, and had grown to become Eris’s second over the course of the war and the years that followed. Cruelty was still hammered into his bones - a disfiguring mark left by their father - but disloyalty was not one of his many negative traits. He’d been the only one to come to Eris’s aid in the war, and subsequently the last of Eris’s brothers to survive. That counted for something in your book.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it seriously, but I could’ve poked fun in a better way.” You said softly, gently leaning into his side. He forgave you quickly. He could never stay angry at you - he wasn’t even sure it was possible.

Halvor tipped his head towards you, eyes the color of freshly brewed coffee staring at you with mischief.

“My Lady.” He said half-mockingly, sweeping out his arm into a shallow bow. 

You rolled your eyes. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“Why not? Is my brother not a good enough romp for you? If you want better company I could-” 

Eris cut off his words with a growl of warning. Halvor only tipped his head back and laughed - a grating sound that eight years of peace under Eris’s rule still hadn’t managed to file away.

“We’ll be walking to her home from here.” Eris said, slipping into his High Lord voice, “Try and keep your distance and be on the lookout.” Halvor nodded, turning serious at the shift in his brother’s voice. There were countless enemies who would be happy to snatch the crown away from a new, as of yet untested, High Lord.

He followed obediently, keeping his distance as you and Eris both bade farewell to the townspeople. 

You lived on a patch of land too far to even be considered the outskirts of town, but you were a familiar face to everyone. A healer by trade and Eris’s most trusted advisor and friend, you were the one they called upon in the dead of night when evil whispered nearby or sickness fell upon them. 

Evaldre, they called you in one of the Old Tongues. The exact meaning had been lost to time, but it spoke of someone cherished and highly regarded. Some of the bold ones even went so far as to call you “Our High Lady.” 

Ten years ago uttering those words would have meant the swift swing of a sword on one’s neck. If High Lord Eris knew of it, he never seemed to mind.

Bryaxis waited for you on your doorstep, pleasantly lounging in a patch of light and watching the gentle fall of crisp leaves from the trees above. Both Eris and Halvor’s horses groaned low in their throats, hooves pressing into the soil to stop before the clearing. Halvor whistled at them to move forward, but they refused.

“It’s that devil dog of yours,” Halvor said, dismounting and tying off the pair on a low hanging elm branch, “Makes them anxious.”

He whispered words of comfort to them, sliding his hands along their thick necks until they stopped bucking against the reins. Eris had his dogs and Halvor had his horses.

“He’ll stay inside then. Wouldn’t want you to have to walk back to the Forest House with your tail between your legs because you lost the horses.”

Eris smirked when Halvor threw an obscene gesture your way. 

The dog in question, black as night with shining silver-blue eyes, stretched and nuzzled into your outstretched hand as you reached your front door, Eris following closely behind. 

“Will you be long?” Halvor called out to Eris, raising his eyebrows suggestively with his hyena grin. 

“Go home if you’re so impatient. I can make it back on my own.”

“I’ll wait til noon.” If Eris was finished by then, it would mean they took care of business… if Eris wasn’t finished by then, it would mean they were taking care of other business, business Halvor would do no good sticking around for. He snorted at the thought, then lost himself in imagining the other females he might be able to seduce back at the Forest House.

You both passed through the enchantments woven into the wood of your home, feeling a rush of power pour over you like water over stone. 

Eris snapped his fingers and the candles you’d placed on your dining table and mantle burst to life, fluttering about like dancers. The fireplace followed suit, sending a wave of warmth throughout the house. Firelight bounced off the rich velvet and creams that adorned your home - a cleaner mimic of the Autumn lands that existed behind the walls and flooded in through the open windows.

The Forest House was a place of luxury, massive enough that it would take you an entire morning just to walk from one end to another, and filled to the brim with treasures of gold, bronze, and enough precious jewels to sink a ship. It was a palace fit for a High Lord. But this was a home, so he took off his crown and hung up his cloak.

“What happened to him?” Eris said, kneeling on the ground and giving Bryaxis a well-deserved scratch behind the ears. The millennia-old creature closed his eyes in satisfaction. “The last time I saw him he was a cat.”

You chuckled, bustling about in the kitchen for a tea set that would match and piling pastries on a plate. The smell of browned butter and strawberry rhubarb jam waltzed in the air.

“He’s been experimenting with new forms.” You said, smugness and pride warming your chest. Not so long after Eris had freed you from the mountain and given you a new home, Bryaxis had found you, drawn to your power. Twin bargain tattoos snaked up from the bridges of your feet to your ankles like vines up a trellis - the first promised that you would do no harm to one another in exchange for dual protection, the second allowed you to take a portion of his power, giving him to opportunity to mold his being into a form that could experience the world in a more physical sense. 

Gone was the shapeless creature of shadow and nightmares. Enter Bryaxis the wolf-dog (and occasional housecat) who still radiated enough power to scare away any creature (wicked or otherwise) that dared to disturb the peace of their home. But he could curl up by the windows and watch the night sky uninhibited, and in his heart he was a creature of violence and simplicity in equal measure.

“I like this one better than the cat.” Eris said with a grin, for the monster had copied the shape of one of his prized hunting dogs. Bryaxis seemed to growl in appreciation when Eris straightened up.

He sighed in contentment, feeling the stress of his crown melt away when you wrapped your arms around his middle, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of cedar, smoke, and cinnamon.

“Hello.” He murmured softly, turning in your arms and pressing his lips against your forehead.

“Hello.” You whispered, brushing your lips against his with a sigh, “I missed you. Where have you been all this time?” The finished reports on your desk, much like your empty bed, had been waiting patiently for Eris’s next visit.

He hesitated, pulling away to look at you. He brushed aside a few stray strands of hair that had fallen out of your braid. “The Night Court.”

You stiffened, “Keir?” 

He shook his head, frowning, “Rhysand.” 

You blinked, and he saw darkness pass through your eyes. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.” 

Twelve years. 

You’d been Beron’s prisoner for decades before. Then you’d escaped and managed a couple of years of peace. You’d found a home and a family… or so you thought. And then twelve years ago you’d been betrayed - handed back to the now deceased High Lord on a silver platter and trapped beneath the mountain for four years. It made your blood boil to think about the people who helped put you there. 

“You’ve been dealing with them for years now,” You forced out in a diplomatic tone, “It’s good for you to have allies, especially strong ones like them.”

“Y/n-”

“You should've told me. I don’t want you to worry about my feelings when it comes to these things. Autumn comes first and-”

“I’ll always worry about you.” Eris said, tilting your chin up and catching the moisture gathering in your eyes that you’d furiously tried to blink away, “And there’s no choice between you and my Court. You belong here. To protect Autumn - to protect you - are the same thing, my love.” 

Your cheeks burned at the careful way he spoke, the sincerity in his voice he reserved solely for you in moments like this.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Y/n. I promise it won't happen again."

Fury burned in his stomach, a continuation of the anger that had steadily been eating away at his patience during his visit to the Night Court. To see the Inner Circle look so safe and happy in the bubble they’d carved for themselves in Velaris, naive to the pain and suffering they’d caused you, had made him want to burn The House of Wind to the ground. Alliance be damned. 

He hated them nearly as much as he had hated his own father. 

“I don’t want to think about them.” You declared, setting your jaw and smoothing away the lines of anger that had formed on Eris’s forehead, “To hell with them.” 

Eris smirked, loving the determination that settled in your eyes as you dragged him over to the living room and finished setting up the tea that had started to whistle on the stovetop. You would carve out a space for yourself in this world and be happy, even if it killed you.

“To hell with them.” He repeated.

Business and pleasure. The two were impossible for him to separate, which is why he cherished time spent with you. The pair of you spoke easily together, seamlessly transitioning from discussions of grain reports, treaties, and trade deals to banter about the Harvest Festival and the latest court gossip. Halvor was long gone, and Bryaxis off hunting, when the talking ceased and Eris found himself comfortably spread out on your velvet couch, shirt unbuttoned, and head resting in your lap as you wove your fingers through his hair.

He opened his eyes, lazy and slow, and quietly took in your features - the slope of your nose, the gentle curves of your cheeks and lips as you smiled at him, the contentment in your eyes that shifted into deep thought. 

He waited for you to share them with him.

“I’ve been thinking about your proposal.” You said carefully and he froze beneath your hands.

“You-you have?” Eris swallowed and sat up, keeping his distance even as he dared to hope. You’d both been keeping your relationship secret, visiting each other under the guise of court business and court business only. It had certainly started out that way, but things had quickly shifted into something far more intimate and worthy of secrecy… Then Eris had asked if it could stop being so secret.

You nodded, searching his face for something more than the neutral mask every High Lord learned to master. 

You moved onto his lap, laying your hands on the sides of his face as his eyes widened ever so slightly, “My answer is yes.” 

“Yes?” He asked in disbelief. 

Yes to living with him. Yes to going to court with him. Yes to showing the world that he was not alone in his duty. Yes to being by his side wherever either of you went.

No more hiding in this house on the outskirts. No more being afraid of what had happened in the past. No more loneliness.

“Yes.” 

He shuddered under your touch and suddenly he was everywhere. His hands roamed the expanse of your back, pulling at the fabric of your bodice. Red locks as vivid as flame got knotted beneath your fingers, and his body pressed flush against yours, desperate for any contact as his chest continued to shake with laughter. 

You stayed with him on that couch, neither of you wanting to bother with the effort of walking the extra twenty steps to your bedroom, as articles of clothing were hastily torn off and allowed to float onto the floor in crumples of fabric.

A growl from just outside your front door, low and gravelly enough to shake the ground, woke the two of you up. The sun was kissing the horizon on its way down, lateral rays of light streaming through the window and splashing onto the bookshelves and walls like gold paint. Eris groaned with displeasure, pulling you flush against his chest when you dared to draw yourself up on your arms to look at the door. 

You giggled against him, pulling a rare smile from his lips when he felt your laughter. 

He was all warmth and color beneath you as you shouted at Bryaxis to give you more time alone. He could practically hear the rolling of eyes with the huff that Bryaxis gave out. But he eventually trotted away to find a patch of soft grass from which to watch the sun set.

“It’s good to know a murderous beast like him still has a sense of humor.” Eris quipped, practically humming with pleasure when you melted into him. “You would know. You can be funny sometimes.” 

“Sometimes?!”

“Sometimes!” 

“You must give me more credit than that.”

“I will not.”

“You must. Your High Lord demands it.” Eris said, puffing out his chest and deepening his voice.

“Your High Lord demands it.” You parroted in a silly voice that made Eris chuckle and kiss you again.

You laid in the silence for as long as you could, until the sun was once again buried in the ground and the calls of the Forest House could not be ignored. With every piece of clothing Eris pulled back on his body, the vulnerable joy that came from being with you seemed to dim. 

Was he a lovesick fool for asking you to come to court and be with him? Was the protection of a High Lord worth the dangers that came with it? Lucien had been the first of their brothers to fall in love and he had paid for it dearly. Sometimes Eris had nightmares that you would suffer the same fate.

Eris watched you as you laced up your bodice with quick fingers, fixed your hair, and smoothed your skirts. You looked heavenly in the light of the fire. You were everything he could have dreamed of and more… because you were real… and you loved him as fiercely as he loved you. Which meant he could lose you.

“Y/n.” He whispered your name like a prayer, drawing your attention. You drew close to him, pressing your forehead against his as he took a deep breath, “What you’re agreeing to… you know what it will mean, don’t you?”

You closed your eyes and nodded. This was no light decision and it was why you’d taken three months to come up with an answer for him. 

“It will mean people will come for me, and never stop coming for me, just to hurt you and to hurt this Court.” Eris flinched, but you wouldn’t let him open his mouth to dissuade you. You’d given this much thought, and your decision was made.

“It will mean constant scrutiny from the other Lords and Ladies. A life spent in a house known for its history of cruelty and disloyalty. A life that will never fully be my own.”

Eris was beginning to think he’d truly made a terrible mistake in asking you to be with him. But before that cold mask of his could fall over his features, you grasped his face in yours hands and forced him to look at you.

“But it will also mean a chance to be with you. A chance to lead alongside the first person to give me a real home - a real family. A chance to continue to build and protect what I love. I love you, Eris, and I love Autumn, and I’ll be damned if I don’t protect what I love.”

Eris clenched his teeth, holding back the emotion that threatened to spill out like a ruptured damn.

“I won’t be like this at the Forest House.” He said, hating the truth of the words that fell off his tongue, “I won’t be able to show who I truly am when I’m around others, at least not for now. They’ll call you foolish, or cruel, or wicked for being with me. I can’t promise you an established and worthy court. I-”

“Then we’ll build it ourselves.” You said fiercely, pouring your power into the words, “We’ll build a new court, a new life for ourselves and everyone here. I know you’ll do everything you can to fix things, even if it breaks you.” You whispered the next words reverently against his lips, “Let me help you. Let me do it with you.” 

Eris let the tears run rivers down his cheeks, even as he set his jaw, and stared resolutely into your eyes.

“Let’s do it then. Together.”

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______

Author's note:

*shouts from the mountaintops* I just want Eris to be happy! And I want him to have someone he trusts that can rule alongside him!

That's it. That's the note. Oh and let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters.

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @logankemaek @the-sweet-psycho @a-frog-with-a-laptop @flameandshadowx @applerubyy

[haveihitanerve]

How the bats deal with Valentine’s Day-

Dick: a nice dinner reservation, flowers, shows up at their work and steals them away for dinner

Jason: cooks dinner for them and a movie night

Tim: tries and fails at making breakfast in bed and they end up at dennys, on the ride home buys flowers

Damian: a nice necklace that compliments them well, flowers and candy, maybe an engraved blade

Babs: flowers and dinner and getting some obscure thing that the other person has always wanted

Steph: picnic on her favorite roof with candles and wine and movie

Cass: gentle kiss and a flower crown. A day off of strolling through the city and window shopping and kisses

Bruce: for Selina/lover he gets flowers and a nice sentimental gift, buys dinner because he can’t cook for shit, takes a day off patrol for a night out of the city- maybe a trip to Paris or wherever they want to go.

For his kids, because Valentine’s Day is about those you love: flowers and a present and their favorite snack/candy that he leaves for them no matter where they are. Dick comes home from patrol to find a little gift basket of face masks and a massager and candles and a bouquet of blue tulips and his favorite Disney movie playing on his tv. Jason is staying at his safe house that no one knows about and hears noises in his kitchen, walks in to find a gift basket of spices and his favorite Alfred recipes and with bath bombs, along with a bouquet of deep red tulips. Tim is off-world and finds a bouquet of pretty green and red tulips, and a gift basket of nice aromas, a new computer and a rare brand of coffee in his room. No one knows how it got there, especially since they’ve been in space for about a month and it wasn’t there the day before. Damian wanders down into the cave and finds a brand new katana that’s beautifully bedazzled with the robin colors and Justice engraved on the blade and some pretty orchid daffodils. Steph wakes in her apartment and sees a basket of sweets and blankets and sprinkles and sparkles(all purple) with a bouquet of one purple tulip in a bunch of different colored tulips. Cass walks downstairs and Bruce hands her a bouquet of lavender roses and a new suit with the bat symbol proudly displayed on the front and a kiss to her forehead. Babs rolls into her office and finds a bouquet of yellow lilies and a new headset with her favorite sweets she eats while watching Gotham.

Flower meanings:

Tulips: deep, unconditional love

Orchid daffodils: second name is Talia, means rebirth and new beginning and happiness

Lavender roses: means royalty(princess), love and respect.

Yellow Lilies: displays gratitude

[aishangotome]

Ellis Twilight: Chapter 11

Chapter 10 Premium Story

--I didn't have any more nightmares until I woke up the next morning.

Kate: "Thank you."

I express my gratitude in sign language to the maid who helped me change clothes.

(I'm glad Ellis taught me.)

The servants at Crown Castle are all deaf.

Ellis had told me that they are thoroughly vetted to prevent them from being exposed to information that could endanger their lives.

Considering my own situation, which I accidentally stumbled upon, it made sense that they would limit their hiring pool.

Maid: "You're welcome. Please let us pamper you, especially when you're injured."

Maid: "Kate used to do everything herself, from dressing to cleaning..."

Maid: "From now on, please let me help you more."

The maid said this with a bright smile and hand gestures, then left the room with a smile, carrying a basket containing my nightgown and sheets.

(My leg... is it still swollen?)

Pain shoots through me when I move it, and I can't help but grimace.

Just then, there's a knock from the door that had just closed, and--

Ellis: Good morning, Kate.

It was Ellis who peeked his head in.

Kate: Ellis! Good morning. Yesterday--

I was about to say "I'm sorry" but then I remembered him telling me "no apologies."

Kate: ...Thank you for everything.

Ellis: You're welcome. Did my magic work?

*flashback*

Ellis: ...Want me to cast a spell for you to have good dreams?

*back to present*

My forehead, where Ellis's lips touched yesterday, feels slightly warm.

(It was a sensation that seemed to repaint the anxieties that had turned my heart gray with warm colors.)

I felt like there was more to it than that, but...

I pretended not to notice and gently tucked away the feelings that couldn't be put into words.

Kate: Yeah, it worked perfectly! Thanks to you, I slept soundly.

Ellis: That's good.

(Ellis seems more energetic than yesterday, too.)

I'm relieved that the anxious and somewhat precarious atmosphere I saw in him last night has faded.

Ellis: Well then, let's go.

Kate: Go? Where... and what's that?

I lower my gaze to see Ellis holding something unfamiliar in both hands.

Ellis: A secret weapon.

-

Sunlight streamed through the glass arches, casting vivid shadows on the ground. This was Leadenhall Market, the oldest market in London.

Ellis: I said I'd bring you your meal, but... since it's such nice weather, I thought it might be nice to eat outside.

Ellis: We promised to go out for something delicious, too. And... how's the ride?

Kate: It's really... how do I put it, this is...

Ellis's "secret weapon" smoothly glided through the market with me on board. It was a contraption I had never seen before, like a chair with wheels attached.

Kate: It's so effortless, it almost feels like cheating...

Ellis: ...Hehe. You're so serious, Kate.

His laughter, pushing the "secret weapon," reached me from behind, and I glanced back at him.

Kate: You'll understand once you ride it too, Ellis.

Even at my accusing gaze, Ellis just smiled.

Ellis: Well then, maybe I'll have you push me around once you've recovered.

Kate: ! You said it! It's a promise.

Ellis: Yeah, it's a promise.

Ellis, laughing cheerfully, pushed the "secret weapon," or rather, the "wheelchair," through the market. This vehicle wasn't very common yet, but I heard it was a tool being developed as a means of transportation for injured or elderly people.

Kate: How did you get your hands on such a rare thing so quickly?

Ellis: I made it.

Kate: You made it!?

(Something this complex, bigger than a chair and with wheels?)

I blinked, and Ellis tilted his head, giving me an ambiguous smile.

Ellis: A long time ago... I researched a lot, so I remembered how to do it.

The chair was comfortable, soft, and the wheels turned smoothly. It was so comfortable that I couldn't believe it was something you could buy.

Kate: Why did you research so much? Did someone get hurt?

Ellis: Hm? Ah... yeah.

He usually tells me a lot when I ask, but for some reason, Ellis hesitated a little and--.

Ellis: ............

He finally fell silent, and I looked up, worried. But from this angle, looking up at him from below, I couldn't see his expression clearly.

(What kind of face is Ellis making right now...?)

Ellis didn't seem to notice my gaze.

(Usually, he would notice right away and meet my eyes...)

He was staring blankly ahead, and he was definitely acting differently than usual.

(...Maybe it was a painful memory.)

The face I saw last night – anxious, as if he was in pain himself – suddenly flashed through my mind.

(I shouldn't have asked so casually.)

It's frustrating that I don't know how to make him smile, the one who makes me smile more than anyone else.

I stopped pursuing the matter further, returned my gaze forward, and felt the vibrations of the wheels against the ground when – I suddenly realized.

(Amazing...)

(To maneuver a wheelchair through such a crowded town without bumping into anything or making sudden turns...)

As if by magic, the wheelchair weaved through the market.

Kate: ...Even when you're lost in thought, you're so kind, Ellis.

Ellis: ………… Huh?

Kate: Not making it sway too much to avoid making me feel sick, not going over bumps too quickly to avoid hurting me...

Kate: I can tell just by riding it, from every movement of the chair.

Ellis: ............

I smiled at him, surprised with wide eyes, and faced forward again.

(Oh... this is really troubling.)

I should have known that the way Ellis looked at me that day at the picnic wasn't like that.

(It's hard not to fall for someone like him.)

I swallowed the feelings that were faintly aching deep in my chest, the feelings I knew would be crushed before they could blossom.

Right now, I just wanted Ellis to smile.

That's why--.

Kate: I still feel a little guilty for being pampered like this, but...

Kate: I'm happy to be taken care of like this.

I leaned back against the backrest, closed my eyes, and surrendered myself to the ride.

Kate: I'm having so much fun going out with you, Ellis.

(To respond to Ellis's kindness, wishing for my happiness...)

(I'm sure the best way is to convey 100% of the happiness I'm feeling.)

Perhaps my feelings reached him, because a smile returned to Ellis's face.

Ellis: ………… Yeah.

Ellis: I'm happy to be out with you too, Kate.

I felt his gaze on me from behind, and I looked up slightly to see his slightly long bangs swaying.

Ellis: Shall we go for a walk after we eat?

Kate: But Ellis, what about your work?

Kate: Speaking of which, is it okay for you to be away from Jude right now?

According to the schedule I noted in my notebook, he should still be working today.

Ellis: I'm taking a break from assisting the president for a while.

Kate: Does that mean... I'm causing you trouble?

Ellis: Not at all. I wanted to do this.

Ellis: Jude also told me to take responsibility and look after you.

Kate: Eh!? Jude said that...?

Ellis: Yeah. Jude was also there when you got hurt.

Ellis: Maybe lending me to you is Jude's way of taking responsibility.

Indeed, from the beginning, Jude had told Ellis, "You got her involved, so you deal with the consequences."

In the sense of "not being indebted," I had come to understand that Jude, despite being an arrogant sadist, was a man of his word.

So, it made sense that he would tell Ellis to look after me.

(The kidnapping case has been solved, and there's no work or missions for a while.)

(Resting with Ellis until my injury heals...)

(--Somehow, that sounds...)

Ellis: It's like a vacation just for the two of us.

Kate: ...!

I jumped in my chair when he whispered in my ear from behind.

Kate: Oh, you're saying that again.

Ellis: I thought we were thinking the same thing... Were we not?

Ellis laughed cheerfully and tilted his head.

Kate: ...You got it.

Ellis: Hehe, I knew it.

(If he doesn't like me and we're not lovers, then...)

(Ellis is... a perplexing person.)

Sunlight glittered down on us as we looked at each other.

Ellis: Maybe I'll just enjoy this as a regular vacation with you.

Ellis: After lunch, is there anywhere you'd like to go?

(Since we're here, I'd like to go somewhere I haven't been with Ellis yet, but...)

Kate: Hmm... Nothing comes to mind right away.

Ellis: Then, shall we go wherever the path takes us?

Streaks of light enveloped Ellis like a staircase ascending to heaven.

Kate: Wherever?

Ellis: Yes, that's right. Wherever, until all your dark feelings are blown away.

After a late brunch at a lovely restaurant, we walked aimlessly.

We window-shopped, passed by sparkling green parks,

a riverbank bustling with boats, a towering temple, and many other sights...

Engrossed in conversation, we somehow arrived at the outskirts of London before we knew it, but we didn't want to stop moving forward.

Ellis: We've reached the top.

Kate: Wow...!

It was a meadow filled with vibrant flowers as far as the eye could see.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the sweet scent of flowers and the warmth of the setting sun.

Ellis: What do you think?

Kate: It feels amazing...!

Ellis: Yeah, I think so too.

Our eyes met briefly, and Ellis gave a mischievous smile--and spun the "secret weapon" around in a wide circle.

Kate: Whoa!

Kate: Ah, did you just... play a little prank on me?

Ellis: ...Did I get caught?

Ellis: You looked so cute having fun, I couldn't help but tease you a little.

(Ah...)

(...He makes that kind of face too, huh?)

It felt like an expression I'd never seen before, and my heart pounded uncontrollably.

(Is Ellis surprisingly mischievous?)

"Ellis's emotions and desires are a secret" –– I recalled the words Roger once told me.

I felt like the lid of that secret box had just slid open a little, and I caught a glimpse of what was inside.

(I want to see more. But... it's also a little scary.)

Because if I discover any more new sides to Ellis... If I fall for him any more than this, it'll be troublesome.

Ellis: I'm sorry, was that scary?

Kate: No! Because I know you're in control, Ellis.

Ellis: ......

Kate: Just like you said, all my dark feelings have been blown away.

Ellis: I see... That's good.

As we gazed at the scenery for a while, the sun, burning like a ball of fire, sank into the cityscape, which looked like a silhouette.

(What a beautiful twilight...)

I wanted to keep watching this scenery with him forever, but with each blink, the sky turned into the colors of night.

Kate: ...But, we should head back soon.

(The day went by so quickly.)

It felt like the peaceful, calm, and happy time was melting into the night.

(It's a little sad...)

Ellis: We don't have to go back.

Kate: Eh...?

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 12

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[hajimine]

Hi Lex! I’d like to request what Bokuto, Akaashi, and Iwazumi would likely do and or gift you for your anniversary? :) and maybe even what you’d get him!

➵ WHAT THE HAIKYUU BOYS DO FOR YOU ON YOUR ANNIVERSARY

a/n: oooh this is so cute! i’m leaving out the part for what you’d get him bc it’s getting too long hehe <3 also please let me know if you prefer this hc format or my usual ones!! request rules

type/genre: headcanons; fluff fluff fluff!! kinda cheesy but it is what it is

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED <33

✿ BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

first thing in the morning, bokuto will knock on the bedroom door and enter with a huge bouquet in his arms, practically covering his broad torso.

his way of waking you up consists of peppering your whole face with little kisses and sealing it with a final kiss on the lips.

he would happily tell you all about the picnic he planned out for the two of you.

like the gentleman that he is, he’ll carry the giant wicker basket filled with cute mini sandwiches, pre-peeled oranges and a jug of sweet peach tea in his arms.

he sets out a large blanket on the grass for both of you to sit on, and bo wanders around while you take the pre-prepared food out.

after half an hour, he’ll come out from the bushes with a handful of white daisies in hand, eyes sparkling with glee.

“why’d you keep giving me flowers today, bo?” you ask, grateful but confused.

he plucks one of the daisy stems from his grasp and tucks it behind your ear, smiling brightly as he admires your face.

“it’s because you’re beautiful,” he beams, “and the flowers are beautiful! it matches perfectly.”

even after all this time, you’re still caught off guard by the genuineness in his voice.

whenever he says these things, he’s not just being nice—he’s being honest, which is what makes it so much more special.

✿ AKAASHI KEIJI

akaashi wakes up extra early in the morning to cook you breakfast.

he’ll take time to make homemade pancakes for you—from scratch!

he would gently knock on your door and carry the plate filled with pancakes to the bedroom so that the sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing you wake up to in the morning.

both of you might eat breakfast in bed together while watching the latest episode of your favorite TV show.

after you’re done enjoying the fresh pancakes, he draws you a relaxing bath and tells you to get ready for the plans he arranged for today.

the two of you decide to have a quick lunch in your favorite restaurant—the place where you had your first date with akaashi

after you’re done eating, he kisses the back of your hand and guides you to the planetarium, where he had booked out the whole venue for the evening

and when you gape at him in disbelief, he would only smile and press a soft kiss on your forehead.

“i don’t deserve any of this,” you sniff.

“you deserve the world, angel.” akaashi says, eyes full of tenderness, “i want you to know that, and i’ll do everything in my power to make you happy.”

he takes your hands and gently places them on his shoulder, smiling softly when you clasp your fingers together on the back of his neck.

the two of you sway along the planetarium’s background music, foreheads touching, like there’s no one else more important than each other.

“i love you,” you whisper, eyelashes fluttering as akaashi plants a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

“i love you too,” he says, voice firm and unwavering.

✿ IWAIZUMI HAJIME

you wake up to iwaizumi waiting for you in the kitchen, brewing a cup of hot coffee.

he doesn’t even need to ask how you want your coffee made, he practically knew it by heart after years of being together.

he sets the mug on the table and presses a small kiss on the crown of your head before walking over to the couch, nervously reaching over for a big scrapbook filled with pictures of the two of you over the years, accompanied with little notes beside each one.

as you admire the amount of care he puts into making this album of your relationship, he hands you a cream envelope and motions for you to open it.

inside, there were two tickets, yellow in color, for a ride on the ferris wheel during the sunset.

he cooks you some homemade curry and rice, and urges you to eat it quickly so you can catch the train in time for sunset.

he held your hand tight the whole way there, and still refused to let go when you’re on the ferris wheel.

it was only when your carriage stops at the very top for a few short seconds that iwaizumi lets go of your hands to cup your face instead, kissing you softly, gently.

“i know i’m not always the best in expressing my love in sentences, but i hope you can truly feel how much i love you.” he sighs, offering you a half smile.

“oh, hajime,” tears are forming in your eyes, “you make me feel like i’m the most loved person in this world.”

his thumb grazes your cheekbone as he looks you in the eyes, eyebrows furrowed.

“well, you’re the most loved person in my world,” he mutters bashfully, “and you deserve it all. really.”

© HAJIMINE — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, or claim any of my works as your own, thank you.

[atlascripts]

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

more spin off content

Peter looked at you a little confused and embarrassed if anything. You had this big smile on your face, as you gestured a 'ta da'.

"What's with the face?" You asked when you finally saw the confusion evident on him.

"I never told you but I don't know how to ride a bicycle." He replied feeling a little disheartened seeing you had planned all this.

You gasped, feeling awful for assuming, "I am so sorry Peter….how'd I not think of that?!" You scolded yourself with a hand smacking your forehead.

"We could walk to the lake, I mean it's not that far." Peter suggested holding the little picnic basket you had prepped. "Yeah I guess that'll do." You picked up the picnic blanket and started leading the way excitedly nonetheless.

~

Peter looked on, taking notice of every tiny detail as if trying to remember the ritual that was the picnic, but he was getting oh so distracted by your presence there. Peter didn't know what these growing feelings were but he knew they were fond feelings and he needed a way to tell you. Only if he had the courage, he thought to himself, "Peter c'mon." You called him as he was watching you get near the edge of the lake to dip your feet. His trance was broken and he followed behind, rolling up his jeans and sitting beside you letting the cool water soothe him.

You and Peter really just spent the day talking about your childhoods but it was mostly him asking how a regular person's childhood looked like. You tried to indulge in it but couldn't help but feel it might really upset him for obvious reasons, you were always worried about that. But that day he had opened up a little bit about his own past.

"My mother was convinced I was possessed, she said lucifer was within me. We'd have pastors and shrinks show up now and then but…it kept getting worse. I always wondered if she truly believed I was cursed or if she just said all those things to hurt me." He was quiet for a second, recalling all those times, that woman that he called mother, taunted him with all kinds of slurs and reminded him how he was good for nothing if he kept this up. "I know father didn't really believe that but mother had a way of convincing him. They kept my sister from playing with me thinking I'd hurt her. So of course It all came crashing down one time."

He didn't elaborate further, maybe that's all he wanted to share for the time being. You couldn't help but hold his arm and scoot close, leaning in for an embrace. You held his hand in yours, trying to hold back your tears and Peter noticed. He noticed someone else shed a tear for him. He noticed how you held his arm and fell silent but the warmth emitting from you really helped him escape reality or even his memories.

"But after that, I was sent away…and that is why I was never taught how to ride a bicycle." He tried to lighten the mood, and you tried to give him a smile. "I know and I'm sorry." You said while turning to look up at him. His eyes softened when they looked at you and he couldn't help himself as his lips pressed softly to the crown of your head. Leaving you all sorts of speechless. "It's alright, don't think too much about it."

[unloved-cadillac]

How would Dabi be with a civilian s/o:

>𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

In all honesty, this man probably bumped into you on the sidewalk or in a store. Of course he was disguised, but you did catch a glimpse of his scars. Or burns? You couldn’t remember.

“Hey. Watch it.” He said a bit annoyed. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.” You responded with a kind smile. Dabi’s mind went: cute.

After you left, he followed you. Out of protection for you and because he wanted to know where you lived. Very blunt, I know.

Dabi stalked you. Plain and simple. When he wasn’t busy with the league, he made it his mission to be near you. He found out where you worked, what restaurants you liked to eat at, family members, your friends. All the stuff he could get his hands on.

Your name was beautiful. Dabi found himself saying your name over and over again to himself but caught himself and scoffed. “Damn woman.”

He would be lying if he said he didn’t fantasize of having a relationship with you. The sex part and the usual bases of a relationship. Hand holding, talking. Everything.

But it was until he got caught by you in an alleyway did he know he was fucked. He was Dabi. The Cremation Villain. Villain. That’s what he was. All he ever would be, even to you.

“Hi. You’re the guy I bumped into the other day, isn’t it?” You say snapping him away from his thoughts. He chuckles. “Yeah.” He answers.

“I’m Y/n. What’s your name?” You ask. I know. I know everything about you. “Dabi.” He saw your eyes widen a bit. “Oh. You’re the villain aren’t you?” He nods. “But I’m not gonna hurt or mug you. I have no reason to anyway.” He explains and your shocked face relaxes into a smile. “Good. I’m broke anyway.” You joke and he chuckles.

“You’re not gonna call the cops or run for your life?” Dabi asks while you shake your head. “I have no reason to.” You repeat his words back at him and it was his turn to be shocked. “Well, see ya around. Dabi.” You walk past him and wave.

What?

After that, you started seeing Dabi everywhere you went. You, being you, didn’t find it weird or creepy. Actually, you felt a bit safer knowing that if you were to bump into trouble, you had him there.

You left some snacks and letters for him by your mailbox where you knew he stood. Dabi happily took it and snacked on it while he read your letters. Some were just a “hi :)” or “I saw you ;)” it made him chuckle, that’s for sure.

Finally, after months, he found himself in your apartment. You were at work, which he obviously knew, so he decided to snoop around. See what this girl who caught his attention  was like.

You had basic stuff. A table, 2 chairs and a small ass kitchen. A tiny TV with a run down couch which looked like it was going to break at any moment. He actually felt sorry for you.

 Your bedroom was a simple, single bed with a white blanket and two pillows. A wardrobe with some of your clothes. He knew you didn’t do laundry at your apartment, since you went to the one down the street, and he saw your basket starting pile up with clothes.

He knew what he was going to do.

He put on his “disguise” and went to the laundry place. He stayed there for 2 hours waiting for your clothes to be ready. And when it was, he realized what the actual fuck he was doing.

He was a criminal, a murderer but here he was, doing laundry for a girl he doesn’t know.

After putting your clothes on your bed, he left. He wanted you. He wanted you and he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do.

When you came home, you saw your clothes done and a note beside it:

“You live horribly. Just saying.”

-D.

You scoffed. “Idiot.” You slowly started falling for this man. And you had no idea how or what to do about it.

Couple of days later, after having supper with your friends, Dabi was by your door. Sitting, apparently waiting for you.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my stalker.” You say walking up the stairs to see him. Dabi looked up and chuckled. “Well, that’s a bit harsh.” He says standing up and facing you.

“What brings you here? Want to do more laundry?” You joke and he scratches his head. “Actually, I want to talk to you.” “About?” Fuck. Dabi wasn’t prepared.

“I-, uh.-..” he starts to say. Dammit. How was this so hard?! “Dabi.” You call his name and he looks at you. God, his name sounded good coming from your lips.

“I..like you. I know it’s weird. I don’t even know you. But you seem to be a good person, underneath the scars and burns.” You say and Dabi stares at you. He scoffs and avoids your big e/c eyes. “Damn, Y/n. You made this easier for me.” He says.

“What do you-..,” you don’t get to finish your sentence because his lips landed on yours. He tasted like cigarettes. But it wasn’t unpleasant, you actually liked it.

Pulling away, he cups your cheek and softly kisses your forehead. “I’ll see you around, angel.” Dabi softly tells you and disappears into the night, leaving you wonder what just happened.

Dabi returned back to you after a week. A mission came up and he wanted to at least taste you before he left.

It was 10pm when he knocked on your door. He knew you would be up because you didn’t have work the next day so you would be up watching those shows you love so much.

He waits patiently outside for you. After heading the door open, he sees you. In your robe, wide-eyed and confused.

“Dabi?” You say and walks up to you. “Where were you?” You ask as he moves closer. “Why? Were you worried?” Dabi asks and you blush. “Maybe.” You reply and he smirks.

“Y/n.” He calls and you look up at him, while his finger hooked under your chin.

“What I’m about to tell you, I have never done before. I like you and it terrifies me. But I want you to be mine. You can deny. I won’t blame you. No one would like to be with a villain anyway.” He finishes and looks at you.

All you did was whisper a soft “yes” and brought his lips to yours.

>𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

Dabi spent the night of his confession with you. Not in sex, just sleeping with you. Honestly, he hasn’t slept that well in years.

The next morning he left you, having needed to return back to the league. But he did get you breakfast.

You didn’t tell anyone that you were involved with someone, let alone a villain. You didn’t want Dabi to get caught.

A few months into your relationship, Dabi started to give you money. Where he got it from, you didn’t know. But when you refused, he took the money and bought something for your apartment. A new couch, food, a new TV. New bedding. He practically renovated your apartment.

Although the both of you had discussed it, Dabi couldn’t stay longer than a week with you. He couldn’t have the League asking questions of his whereabouts and exposing you.

He would rather leave without giving you a day he would be back thangive you false hope and get sad about him.

But that one week per month that he did stay, was the best week you ever had.

Dabi and you watched movies, played cards, cooked. He even taught you some recipes that he remembered from all those years ago.

When it came to sex, Dabi cared for you like no other did before him. He was gentle and loving almost. He hated leaving you in the morning too. That’s why he saved those intimate times for the nights he knew he could stay.

Now, almost a year into your relationship, Dabi trusted you with his life. When he would run from the police, he came to your apartment. Sometimes at 4am.

Knock knock. You hear on the window. Walking up to it, you see him. “Dabi?!” You whispers shout, “What the hell?” “Sorry, angel face. Gotta hide. May I?” “Of course you idiot. Get in here!”

You would wear his shirt all the time. And he loved seeing you in it.

Dabi also liked laying on your tummy, in between your legs while you ran your hands through his hair. That’s when you saw it.

🚫SPOILER🚫

“Baby? Why is your hair white?” You ask and he shoots up and touches his head. “What?” “It’s white. By your crown.” You point and he sprints to the bathroom.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You hear him whisper. Dabi sorta calms down and comes back into your room.

“Y/n. There’s something I need to tell you.” He says seriously. You sit up while he sits down next to you. He places his hand on your thigh and looks at you.

“My name, my real name, is Touya Todoroki. Endeavor is my father..” he begins and continues with his whole story. You listen intently and squeeze his hand in reassurance.

After he poured out all of the shit that he kept on his chest for years, you leaped into his arms making you both fall back on the bed, and smothered him in kisses.

You kissed his scars on his neck and mouth. Then moved to the ones under his eyes. He watched you and you then kissed him fully.

“Can I call you Touya?” You whisper and he nods. “Only here though.” “Of course. Thank you, babe. For telling me.” You say and he hugs you tighter. No. Thank you, Y/n.

It was a bumpy ride with plenty of fights between the two of you, but it was just out of missing each other. He tried keeping you safe as did you.

Dabi loved you. He really did. He told you on night before he left for three weeks. It was emotional and raw, because you loved him too.

But little did he know, someone had picked up on his routine...

———————————————————————

“I’m going through a Dabi phase.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[ahalal-uralma]

The Blood of

Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time, there lived a young girl in a cottage with her mother and twin sister. They lived in a humble abode surrounded by trees and flowers, just the way they liked it, out of sight of civilization. They were as comfortable as a small family could hope to be out in the wilderness.

Their father was gone. He was gone before the twin girls were born. They asked about him once, when they were little “where is our father?”

“He went somewhere better” their mother answered. They never asked about him again. Better was good enough for them.

Over the years, the twin girls grew more and more beautiful: both of luscious black hair and eyes as green as the leaves that surrounded them. But, their minds were ever different.

Respectively, their names were Red and Snow. Snow befriended the wild life and dressed in a cloak of white. Sometimes, she would return home with trinkets, some more peculiar than the last: an acorn, a feather, a rabbit’s foot. Red never asked what the rabbit’s foot was for.

Red had her own strangeness. She wore a cloak the color of blood. Sometimes, you could find her dancing in a field of roses their mother was growing. Other times, she was licking blood off the thorns. One time Snow found her doing this, “did you get hurt?”

“No. I feel wonderful” was the reply of Red before she would get up and continue back to her frolicking. Snow never knew where the blood had come from and she never dared to ask. Red never asked questions, either.

Maybe, her sister was private about her wounds and this was her way of coping with injury. To see something beautiful in the macabre was who Red was. She always saw good in the bad. She always protected what hurt most.

Eventually, the day came for the girl’s to pursue their passions. Their mother was adamant these would become the girl’s professions. “Choose your paths carefully and don’t lose sight of the road” was their mom’s sage advise.

Snow wanted to learn hunting. Hunting had been their father’s trade. According to their mother, he had been the most handsome and skilled huntsman. His skills had been sought by King’s and Queen’s of distant lands.

Snow wanted his infamy. She dreamed of wearing a King’s crown with a bow in her hand. “I would hunt down their hearts” was her favorite thing to say.

Red wanted to learn gardening like her mother and her mother’s mother before her. She would seek an apprenticeship from her grandmother, but it would take much convincing to become her neophyte. Her grandmother was a recluse. She did not like or trust family any better than stranger’s.

“You do not want fame like your sister?” Her mother asked that morning as she prepared a basket of bread and vegetables. She carefully arranged a bed of potatoes, radishes and the like with callouses on her hands.

Her mother was worn away from always tending to things. She was always sewing or cooking. Always mending what was broken. Sometimes, it felt like it was Red’s heart she was knitting back together.

Her mother had a special magic known to few. It was felt in the warmth of her stew and meat pies. Or in the decadence of her chocolate tarts. What reputation she held was carefully sealed for the one’s she loved.

“I have a use for nobody. I have only use for myself. I am enough.” It was like Red to say such things and her mother smiled kindly, “We are very alike. Perhaps, more than anyone realizes.”

Red blushed at this appraisal. “I have never wanted to be noticed, but I hope if they do notice anything, they notice that.”

Her mother kissed her forehead, “always seek to be more of yourself, little cat.”

She set off for the woods to her grandmother’s cottage, while her sister navigated the bushes in the other direction. They did not speak to one another as they departed. They knew better than to wish each other luck. Luck had nothing to do with the futures they were about to forge.

Minutes to hours passed. Occasionally, Red would shelter herself in the nook of a cave when it decided to pour rain.

She wasn’t sure how her sister was fairing in this weather, but it was certainly making a mess of her cloak. It was laying in tatters at the train. It looked like some wild beast had gotten a hold of it. She tried not to flinch whenever she suspected the shadow of a wolf nearby.

Arriving to her grandmother’s went better than planned. She gave her grandmother the basket and sat for some tea. Her grandmother went to the outdoor garden to retrieve some fresh ginger and lemon’s for their drinks.

She wasn’t sure how long her grandmother was gone for before she grew impatient. She tapped her finger nails on the wood of the table.

Tapping once, twice, thrice before she gave into her nerves to walk outside.

She couldn’t find her grandmother. “Ma ma?” No answer. How peculiar.

Maybe, she had another entry she took back into the home? Her grandmother’s residence held a few secret passageways she did not yet know about.

She circled the garden before deciding to return her search to the front door she came out of. She nearly jumped when she found a large wolf lounging, blood on it’s maw, on the wooden table she had left. It looked at her with proud eyes. Red drew the small dagger she kept at her thigh. “You” she accused as if they knew one another.

The wolf snorted as if mocking her.

Big mistake. No one mocked Red with blood on them. She lunged for the wolf and stabbed it in the heart. She pulled it’s heart out and began to bite into it. It tasted bitter. She didn’t expect differently. It had screamed before collapsing, shifting out of it’s form onto the floor.

Red was looking down on the dying body of her sister Snow. “You were warned not to lose sight of the road. You chose the easy path to take people’s hearts, without knowledge, and now I have your heart without yours.

“We might look alike sister, but you know I was always the strongest killer. I didn’t need to make a show of it in souvenirs. You are angry grandmother accepted me to carry on the family business. The real work. I will live on where our father perished.

“You killed ma ma, because you couldn’t handle the competition. You robbed me of my glory of eating her, as is tradition to eat our elders when we carry on their legacy, and now I will eat you, wolf.

You are angry, because I am more myself unknown and unaccepted than you will ever be accepted by everyone who knows you.”

The wolf snorted, “Monster, we are nothing alike. My beauty is greater. I thought you didn’t want the fame? I will always be apart of this forest. You’re just the devil burning it down” before she slipped into unconsciousness.

Red chuckled, “I don’t want fame. I want the respect. That isn’t the same thing. Why not take what is owed? You take all the time what wasn’t earned. I think my retribution is fair. I will burn the forest with you. And you were never more beautiful. I’m the fairest of the land and I shall keep it that way.”

She took off her red cloak, before removing and placing on the white cloak of Snow White. “You couldn’t do what needed to be done. I will not get lost from the path like you and father. I know what I want. I know what I need. Your ghosts will bow before the proper Queen.

“I am Snow White and Rose Red. The White Queen of Hearts. Do not worry, you won’t be forgotten. The kingdom’s roses will be painted with your blood. When they ask who the witch is to blame for the land’s pain—they’ll only have my face to adore and your name to curse. Isn’t that special?” She spoke, bending down to kiss the corpse of her twin sister on the forehead.

“People will learn to not ask questions they don’t want answers to, just like you.”

And with that the evil queen disappeared into the shadows, ascending her form as the black wolf—a forging of the black cat she was before with the remnants of a white wolf that was no longer and never shall be again.

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Remembered how much I love this Ohtori au and I haven't been able to get this out of my head so:

He didn't make a habit of watching the students leave class, but he caught a peculiar smell by the door and turned to find the source when he should have been getting ready to leave himself.

Roses. He couldn't stand the smell of roses. Like those cryptic letters he received as a student, or those hands that made themselves too comfortable on his shoulders. Sometimes he could still feel the knuckles grazing his cheek, twisting his hair into curls, cooing about princehood, about the adult world and power.... The Car.... The Sister....

But he saw her.

No, not the Sister, the Bride!

He hadn't felt himself launch out of the chair so much as see the girl get closer, even though she was walking away. Same posture, same gait. He hadn't felt his arm extend to grab her shoulder and turn her around. Her face didn't show any annoyance, even, just the same tepid disappointment he always remembered. Eyes that seemed to be somewhere else. Glossy black hair pinned up in a way that reminded him of a 1950s movie star. The same as she always was.

"Sir?" she asked, prompting him to realize he had been staring in complete silence for about a full minute. The other students had all filed out of the classroom and headed to their dorms by then. They were alone and his breathing echoed off the walls.

"I met you," he said, still trying to string the words together, "generations ago. You attended this school when I did. The student council, the duels, you were... you gave out the...."

She had thorns around her neck and all down her arms then, skirts that seemed to be made of giant petals. How the image huanted him, how her silent glare that he swore held back tears jolted him from sleep for years and years.

"Why aren't you older?!?" he spat out. His grip tightened to where he squeazed all blood from his knuckles, but her face didn't betray any pain.

"Sir, I have to study," she said, plain as day. "I have a test tomorrow."

He let go of her but did not turn away. She did and gracefully walked to her dorm like the others. Her shoulders would definitely bruise, but she didn't seem to notice. Her steps sounded down the hall, but the scent didn't fade. He turned to gather his things, and there it was on his desk.

A rose, damned thing, a white one, with the stem trimmed. Just long enough to pin to your pocket.

The duels.

No.

The delicate perfume was nauseating and in one smooth motion he swept the rose's severed bloom into the trash basket by his feet.

Those awful duels.

He didn't like to remember, but oh, that smell took him back. The entire way home he remembered the dueling game, letters from End of the World, all of it.

He had settled in his on-campus accomodated room, leaning back in a soft chair he found both ugly and only moderately comfortable. Memories of his time as a student at Ohtori were normally so distant, shapeless, as if made of smoke or water that tinted the sun a different color. A good half of the time he was convinced they were just recurring dreams. He prefered it that way. They were not pleasant times, barring a few scattered moments. But it all came rushing back, clear as a bell and loud as Judgment Day.

He had an old photograph of them and even kept it in a frame. It seemed like the right thing to do. He'd put it on his nightstand, but flipped it down when the nightmares came back. It only took a few days. He held it in his hands, mentally reciting the names.

Bumi, always talking philosophical nonsense; Piandao, the youngest but perhaps most studious; Kanna, sweet but not to be trifled with; Pakku, arrogant like no other; Iroh, the Prince; Hama, the anger boiling under the surface may have been all that kept her alive.

Could they even be called friends? "Colleagues" or even "accomplices" felt more appropriate. Iroh was everyone's friend, competitive and boastful, but always happy with polite conversation. Hama was only interested in sharing kindness with Kanna and intended on knocking everyone else down a peg. These were the extremes of the scale.

And the girl seated on a chair in the center of the sanding student council, perfect posture and ankles crossed just so. Her hands were folded in her lap and her eyes were unfocused and distant, but they seemed to him to be contemplating escape. And of course, her signature not-quite-frown. There was no doubt to be had that she was the same girl he saw leaving class.

Our Rose Bride, Mai.

But how? He had ruled out the idea that she could be a granddaughter to the Mai he met all those years ago. He had Kanna's granddaughter in his class, a Miss Katara Penatac who had refused to take off that tacky rose ring that student council members still wore. In her own gentle yet professionally insistant tone, she pointed out that the dresscode did not forbid rings, only limited the wearer to one on each hand for practicality. She said she would be happy to comply if the headmaster agreed that she hadn't any right to wear her ring, but until then she was quite sure it was protected as per the school rulebook she was given when she had been enrolled.

He had seen what had happened with teachers who pushed her too far. All the gentleness melted away and she began shouting and calling them tyrants. She wasn't quite charismatic enough to get the students to rally behind her, but none defended the teacher either. From that point on those teachers began to lose the stundents' respect, little by little. Definitely Kanna's, and looking at her likeness at that age the resemblance was obvious, but a resemblance isn't a copy. Not like with Mai.

He moved the picture to his other hand, and notice he had covered his own face with his thumb. That's right, he was barely in this photo and almost argued that he should take it. Much of his left side wasn't even in frame. He'd hoped they would ask him to leave, that they would find him too weak or too cowardly -- he couldn't even gather the courage to leave on his own just yet -- but their mercy was relentless.

He'd managed to win one of the duels, to win the Rose Bride, once. She became his roommate after that, somehow, in spite of that not being allowed. She scrubbed the dorm and polished his shoes and made him tea that didn't taste as good as he'd hoped. It felt off but entirely harmless until she insisted on sharing a bed. Her eyes, they weren't hollow or empty like many said they were. Some part of her was very aware that she was keeping herself in people-pleaser mode and it seemed to him that part wanted to cry out and scream. He cautiously acquiesced, but when she started touching him, he moved to the other bed. When she followed, he insisted on sleeping on the floor. When he awoke, he saw she had fallen asleep at the very edge of the bed. Her arm draped off the side and her pinky finger curled around his. He lost the next duel and told himself it was an accident. After that he grew more and more disinterested.

"I don't get it, Jeong Jeong," Iroh had said to him once after sparring. "Your form is good but you never follow through."

"Maybe I just don't want to hurt anyone," he replied.

"Of course you won't hurt anyone! It's just a game."

And it was just a game, until it wasn't. Until the warped half of Dios, and his car rides in the dark, his hands and words, memories of which still stuck to his mind like grime under fingernails. How he had tried to make it all seem silk and silver, but it was actually only made of rot and impossible promises.

And there was a new student council.

Wearing the same rings.

With the same Rose Bride.

He had often asked himself why he came back. The academy caused him nothing but pain and perhaps even ought to be shut down. He'd told himself it was to protect students from what had befallen him. How could he say that when it was all happening before his eyes? Had he dared hope these children had the courage that he didn't in the same situation? That they would come to him for guidance? The photo felt suddenly too heavy so he returned it to its place: face down on the nightstand.

If there's one thing Iroh was correct about, it was the power of comfort, and especially the comfort to be found in a cup of tea. Jeong Jeong filled his electric kettle with enough water for one cup and grabbed a mug with a little wire basket tucked inside. The tea he saved for such occasions was a hand-blended loose leaf from France. It was eqaul parts green and white tea, with bits of lavender and mint and he kept it in little ceramic jar.

But when he opened the cupboard, his tea jar was missing, and in its place was one of glass. Filled with dried rose petals and blooms.

The stems on them only just long enough to pin to a breast pocket.

"What in the world?" He could hear the water building itself up in the kettle. A breath more than a whistle. "Who could have...?"

He pushed past the aversion and reached for it to throw it out. No need to present it to the headmaster, a simple complaint would do. But the jar wore its own crown of thorns the same color as the lid just under the mouth, and his old eyes couldn't see the difference between them. The unexpected pain was enough to make him drop it. It shattered just as the kettle began to screech. Long dead roses made to maintain their shape rather than rot as nature intended spilled out at his feet.

Among them, a letter with that same dreaded rose seal. It was addressed "to the Boy who was Not a Prince, but remembers a Witch from his past," in ink not yet dry.

He stood there staring with that ear-splitting whistling in the background, petrified. He shut off the kettle and swept the glass shards and crumbling rose matter into the garbage. The letter found itself in his hands. It smelled like the others, and the handwriting matched, from what he remembered. Who had seen him recognize the girl?

Somehow, Mai was still a student at Ohtori Academy, and Jeong Jeong had to wonder. If he had fought for her as Iroh had until he won his something eternal, if he had said anything to her about being her own person, would she have grown up with them? If he had given her reason to leave, as he had only left the student council a day after that car ride, would she have freed herself of this place? Why did he come back to teach all those years ago? He told himself it was to protect new generations of students, but that couldn't be true, could it? Was it penance for penance's sake?

He held the letter, positioning his thumbnail to peal off the seal as if it was instinct. He hesitated. Why should its contents matter? What good could possibly come of it?

"Perhaps I'm chasing after what should have been," he admitted to himself.

He lit the damn thing on fire, holding it over the sink in case he dropped it. He watched the little flame lick at and devour the envelope and the pages inside. The scent of roses was gradually overpowered with the scent of smoke.

"Perhaps I'm hiding from the world." Embers lept off the paper and put themselves out in the drain. "Hiding in what I already know."

[teacupfulofstarshine]

pattonella part 13: kingdom alert: the princes are fiiiiiiiightiiiiiiiing!

cw: mentions of injury/infection/illness, mentions of death, arguing, overworking, parental figures who are not the best 

wordcount: ~3.3k

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11 // part 12 // read it on ao3!! 

virgil stays in the infirmary for almost a week after he first wakes up. 

he spends a lot of his time sleeping, since he’s too weak to do anything else. for the first few days of wakefulness, he barely has the strength to squeeze logan’s and patton’s hands when they hold them. despite his barely-open eyes, he smiles every time he sees them. 

“i’m sorry,” he says once, voice raspy and hoarse. patton tilts his head in confusion.

“why are you apologizing?”

“for scaring you. i came home unconscious . . . on logan’s horse . . . and you didn’t know . . . what was happening . . . i’m sorry . . .” his chest heaves slightly with effort, and patton leans in to brush his hair out of his eyes. 

“it’s not your fault. you saved roman’s life, vee, you saved everyone. you all came home alive, and that’s all i can ask for.” virgil smiles at him, eyes half-open, and yawns. “are you tired, vee?” 

“‘m always tired lately.” 

“that’s normal,” emile says, carrying over a large teapot. “you expended an enormous amount of magic when you were fighting. your body is trying to recover that energy; that’s why you’re sleeping so much. this tea helps you recover your energy as well, so keep drinking.” 

virgil makes a face at the cup of tea emile has in his hands, but he still lets patton help him sit up. he takes the tea and sips at it gently, blowing off the cloud of steam. emile dips a washcloth into a pail of cool water, wrings it out, and drapes it across virgil’s forehead, removing the old cloth that has grown warm. 

“is logan going to visit today?” virgil asks. 

“prince logan said he would stop by after attending to his duties at court,” emile says. “remy will be back in a little while, he’s attending to the king.” a somber tone falls over the infirmary at the mention of the king. 

“what . . . exactly is wrong with the king?” patton asks. “we know that he’s sick, of course, but - but we have no idea what’s actually wrong with him. do you know? are - are you allowed to tell us?” 

emile exhales, nodding slowly. “the king was injured in battle. he hid it because -”

“he’s a self-righteous idiot and a coward,” remy mutters, shoving the infirmary door shut behind him. emile’s face brightens when he sees his husband, dimming when he sees how pale and drawn remy looks. “he didn’t want to worry people, so instead of letting me treat his injury and having a recovery time of maybe two weeks, he hid it until it got infected and then he hid the infection until he collapsed and now it’s so far gone that there’s nothing i can do to heal him. it’s killing him from the inside out.” 

“the king will die?” patton asks. 

“we all die eventually,” remy says, “but it’s true that the king is ailing more swiftly than most. i’d say he has . . . three years left to live, at most.” emile reaches up and gently kisses remy’s cheek, pressing his face into his shoulder. 

“there’s a reason the rush is on to get thomas officially named crown prince,” emile says. “if he does not bear the official title when the king passes on, there will be a power struggle.” 

“why? thomas is the eldest prince. roman and logan would never stand in his way of becoming king, would they?” 

“no, but without an official heir appointed, it is possible that anyone with a connection to the royal bloodline, however small, could present themself as heir apparent. it would take months, perhaps even years to sort through the muck and mire of all that inherently political bullshit, which would derail the peace and prosperity of this kingdom. it is imperative that thomas is officially named the crown prince before the king dies.” 

“do we have to be married for thomas to be named crown prince?” patton asks. “is an engagement enough to satisfy the law?” 

“unfortunately, no. engagements can be made and broken at the drop of a hat, but a marriage is not so easily annulled. the wedding ceremony must be completed before thomas can be named crown prince.” 

“i think that’s a stupid rule,” patton mutters. virgil laughs softly, and patton squeezes his hand. 

“the most likely scenario at this point is a triple function.”

“a what?” 

“logan and roman will have a double wedding to the two of you, and then once the wedding ceremony is completed, thomas will immediately be officially named crown prince. that way, no matter what happens, the kingdom will be secured.”

“and then we party?” patton asks. remy laughs. 

“yeah, babes. and then we party.” 

*~*~*~*~*

“everything alright?” 

logan jumps three feet into the air at the sudden noise, whirling around to see roman behind him, hand raised as though he was about to lower it onto his shoulder. “take a deep breath, lo, it’s just me.” logan presses a hand to his chest, exhaling sharply. 

“you startled me, roman. please do not do that.” roman rolls his eyes, bumping his shoulder against logan’s as he steps towards the window logan’s been pensively staring out of. “can i be of assistance?” 

“do you know any good smiths?” 

logan hums, clasping his hands behind his back. “you spend far more time consorting with the villagers than i, roman. if anyone were to possess such information, it would be you.”

“yeah, but you spend all your time with the tax records and shit, i figured you’d know.” 

logan frowns. “what is all this about, roman?” 

roman looks at him, and logan realizes he’s been crying. “roman -”

“i went to see father.” 

logan wants to swear. “roman, i thought we agreed to go together if we went -”

“we did! but i saw remy going to treat him, so i followed him, and when the door opened he saw me and he beckoned me inside and what was i gonna do, say no to the king?” 

“what did he say to you?” 

“he asked me if i was married yet.” 

“and you told him?” 

“no, but i have a partner.” 

“what did he say?” 

“‘that’s not good enough, roman,’” roman grouses, dropping his voice into a gruff imitation of their father’s. “'you of all people should understand how imperative it is that there is no issue with succession. thomas must be named my heir and become crown prince before i shuffle off this mortal coil -’”

“don’t talk about father’s death like that,” logan snaps. 

“and how else should i talk about it, logan? father has been dying for years. and he’s making me rush my relationship with patton just so that thomas can get the official version of a title we all know he has!” 

“father does not want to die without officially naming an heir. i understand that.”

“you really think someone’s going to be stupid enough to challenge thomas’s birthright?” 

“it will not hurt to be prepared. you are responding irrationally.” 

“right, because you’ve never done anything irrational in your life, logan, like riding into battle with no backup and no plan because your stupid magic boyfriend thinks i can’t take care of myself! what does he know, anyway? he doesn’t know anything about me or us or -” 

“virgil saved your life,” logan says, voice low and thunderous. he takes a step forward, then another, and roman takes a step backward, then another. “if it wasn’t for his vision, you would have died . many more people would have been injured or killed if he had not come when he did. or did you forget the fact that he fell into a coma because he expended so much magic saving you? healing you? keeping you alive?” roman flinches away from his anger, and logan can’t bring himself to care.

“logan, i -”

“this conversation is over,” logan says, voice icy and cold. “i will see you at dinner, prince roman. send a servant if you have need of me.” he turns around and stalks down the hallway, footsteps sharp and precise against the stone floor. he hears roman throw a punch at something behind him, but he doesn’t call out, and logan doesn’t turn around. 

*~*~*~*~*

“lord san - patton?” 

patton looks up from the basket of yarn he’s picking through to see nate standing in the doorway, fidgeting with the hem of his tunic. “nate! come in!” 

“you have a visitor,” nate says. he sounds oddly formal, and patton tilts his head in confusion. “sir claire, knight of the kingdom, second in command to his royal highness prince roman, requests an audience.”

“oh! um . . . send her in, sure!” patton remembers her riding just behind logan and roman when they’d returned from battle, but he’s never actually spoken to her. 

nate steps into the hallway and murmurs something, and then claire steps in. she’s not wearing full armor, but there’s leather wrapped around her forearms and legs, and her hair is tied up in a knot atop her head. she’s panting slightly, face shining with sweat, as though she’s just come from the training grounds. 

“lord sanders,” she says, bowing to him. patton stands up, not sure if he’s supposed to curtsy back at her or not, but as he’s gathering the material of his dress claire continues speaking. “i would request something of you, lord sanders.” 

“um . . . okay! is it something you need from roman?” 

“it actually concerns his highness prince roman.” 

“is he hurt? is he alright?” 

claire shakes her head. “i believe he had an . . . altercation with his highness prince logan earlier. prince roman came to the training grounds two hours ago, and he has been putting any guard he can through rigorous dueling. he’s finally exhausted his supply of human opponents, and he has been hacking away at training dummies for the past thirty minutes. his hands shake with exhaustion, but nothing i do or say convinces him to stop and rest. i worry he may pass out from heat or over exertion or -” 

patton wrings his hands nervously, and claire takes a deep breath. “i do not mean to alarm you, lord sanders. i merely thought perhaps, as you are beloved of prince roman, you might accompany me to the training grounds and convince him to rest, if only briefly?” 

“of course,” patton says. “nate, go to the kitchens, get some cold water, as much as you can carry, and some sort of snack. cheese, maybe? and nuts? something to get roman’s strength up. meet me on the training grounds.” 

“at once, lord sanders,” nate says, bowing his head respectfully to patton and claire before sprinting out into the hall. patton slips his shoes on and follows claire out to the training ground. 

“how long have you and roman known each other?” 

“the prince and i entered knighthood training at the same time. were he not the prince, i suspect i may have been picked for captain of the guard, but i am not stupid. i know the ways of the kingdom. the third prince, should there be one, becomes captain of the guard, leader of the knights. prince roman has the skills to back the position up, at least. he is the only person who has ever bested me in combat.”

“it sounds like you really like him.”

“i admire and respect him greatly. it pains me to see him like this.”

“i’ll get him to calm down,” patton says. “what was he fighting with logan about?” 

“it is unclear to me, lord sanders, but it distressed him.” 

“you can just call me patton, if you want!”

“that is very kind of you, lord - patton.”

the stone walls of the castle keep it cool, even in the warmth of summer, so patton had chosen a dress with a long skirt made of lighter fabric. the minute he steps foot outside, he can feel himself starting to sweat. claire, wearing training clothes and leather guards, doesn’t seem bothered at all, so patton pretends that he isn’t, either. 

he can hear sounds of exertion before they even reach the arena. patton gathers the fabric of his skirt up into his hands so that it doesn’t drag along the dusty ground as claire opens the gates to the training arena for him. roman is surrounded by a series of training dummies, stuffed with straw and carrying crude replica weapons. roman is shouting and grunting as he throws himself at the training dummies. 

“his strokes are sloppy,” claire says. patton doesn’t know anything about fighting, but he sort of sees what she means. he’s watched roman train before; he usually keeps all his limbs close to his body, watching with narrowed eyes and striking with quick, precise movements in rapid succession. this looks like a hurricane given human form. roman’s limbs flail wildly, his chest is heaving, and his hair is matted with sweat. 

patton hurries across the arena floor. “roman!” 

roman whirls around, holding his sword out, but his arms are shaking and the tip of the blade drops down into the dust. “patton?” he pants. 

“ro, sweetheart, how long have you been out here?” 

“not - not long, i don’t . . .” roman drives the tip of his sword into the arena floor and leans on it heavily. patton lets his skirts fall down around his ankles again as he reaches out to take roman’s arm and help support him. 

“come sit with me, ro, okay? come on. come sit down.” roman doesn’t protest, quietly staggering over to the wooden benches lining the arena. patton moves slowly to allow roman to shuffle along at his side, carefully helping roman sit down. “claire said you’ve been here for hours, ro.” 

roman sighs. “so she sent you to come reign me in?” 

“she sent me out here to ask you to take a break. she’s worried about you. so am i.” 

“i’m just training. that’s my job, patton.”

“you’re destroying yourself,” patton says firmly. “what happened?” 

roman stares off at the horizon. patton doesn’t pressure him to talk, gently leaning his head against his shoulder. after about ten minutes of sitting in silence, roman finally says, “lo and i got in a fight.” 

“a fight?” 

“i went to see father today. we had an agreement with the two of us and thomas that we wouldn’t go see him on our own. he can be a bit . . . intense. and lo and i got into an argument, and . . . he used my full title. he never uses that unless he’s super pissed off. and like, i’m pissed at him too! he was being an asshole! but . . . so was i, i guess . . .”

nate approaches, setting down a pitcher of water, two cups, and a basket of bread and cheese and nuts. roman shoves a hunk of cheese in his mouth as patton pours them both water and nods his thanks to nate. roman downs a glass and a half of water before staring off again, eyes unfocused. 

patton hums, reaching out to set his hand on roman’s knee. “do you wanna talk about it?” 

roman hesitates for a moment, swirling the water in his cup around, and then he does. 

*~*~*~*~*

“are you going to tell me what you’re brooding about?” 

“i do not brood,” logan grouses. 

“are you going to tell me why you’re pouting, then?” 

“i do not pout either.” logan pouts at virgil, who bites his lower lip to keep from laughing. logan continues to pout as he gently picks up a clay teapot and pours virgil another cup of the magic-replenishing tea. virgil wraps his hands around logan’s as he takes the cup, and logan’s face smoothes into a small smile.  

“i . . . had a disagreement with roman, earlier.” 

“i don’t like the way you’re saying disagreement.” 

“he saw our father.” virgil, sitting up to sip at his tea, pauses as logan’s hands ball into fists. 

“how is he?” 

“our father? the same as always. asking about if we’re married yet so he can name thomas crown prince and die already.” virgil winces, and logan sighs. “forgive me, my love. our father . . . he is constantly rushing our lives. he would have had us wed to anyone, regardless of feelings, so that thomas could have his position as crown prince secured. thomas fought for us to have a chance at happiness, hence the ball for roman’s birthday. our father gave in, but he is . . . irritated that we have not yet wed.” 

“would it make things easier if we got married?” virgil says. logan reaches out and takes one of his hands. 

“i am not going to rush you or have roman rush patton because of our father’s succession issues. you are more than a political bargaining chip to me, virgil. you are . . .” logan’s cheeks and ears flush pink, and virgil can’t hide the besotted smile on his face as he watches logan’s gaze fix on a specific point over his shoulder. “you are invaluable to me. you are incredibly precious. i will not have you feeling like a pawn to be manipulated when you are - you are so much more than that to me.” virgil’s gaze slides to the black chess queen, propped neatly on the nightstand where he can see it.

“you’re important to me, too, l.” 

“roman was insinuating that we were irrational for running into battle to save him. he was implying that you are - are stupid or something, that you don’t know things, when without you he would be dead and we would have suffered innumerable casualties! that fool, what was he thinking , he -” 

“you were worried about him,” virgil says. 

“roman is capable. he does not require worrying about, so he likes to say.” logan scoffs.

“you’re his big brother, lo. you were going to worry no matter what happened. i worry about patton no matter what, and i bet thomas worries about you and roman no matter what. that’s just what brothers do.” 

logan pulls his hands into his lap, fidgeting with his fingers. “i . . . suppose i should apologize to him.” 

“hey, if he was being a jackass, he should apologize to you, too.” logan leans in and gently presses a kiss to virgil’s cheek. virgil makes a very undignified squeaking noise that he will deny vehemently to anyone else. 

*~*~*~*~*

“logan?” 

“roman.” 

“i . . . uh . . . ‘m sorry. i didn’t, uh . . . mean to insult virgil, or . . . or imply that he’s stupid. i know his magic takes a lot out of him, and i know he . . . he really used a lot when you guys came to save us. i just . . . i don’t like feeling like the stupid kid brother you all have to chase after, you know?” 

“i find that i owe you an apology as well, roman. i was, perhaps, unnecessarily harsh on you when last we spoke. i felt that someone had to defend virgil’s . . . honor is not quite the right word, but it is the closest i have.” 

“i can take care of myself, you know.” 

“i know, roman. but when virgil burst into the throne room and told us that he had seen you being slain . . . after the truth of his prediction with my horse incident, thomas and i were understandably distraught. we always fear the worst when you ride out into battle, and virgil seemed to be implying that those worst fears would be realized.” 

“i get that. and i . . . i am grateful, for what he did. for what you did.” 

“i know.” 

“father just . . . rattled me.” 

“i confess that i am irked as well. he has been ill for years, and remy is confident that he is not on death’s doorstep despite his illness. there is no reason for him to be so insistent on this marriage. patton and virgil are more than just marriage partners.” 

“i love him, lo. i - even if i didn’t have to, i would want to marry him.” 

“i share the sentiment.” 

“. . . i do love you, lo. even if you’re an annoying big brother sometimes.” 

“and i love you as well, despite your constant annoying younger brother status.” 

“hey!” 

(patton, hiding in the hallway, giggles and scurries off to the hospital wing.)

[black-streak]

Little Pistol - Up Down

Chapter 12

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Song title by Boy Epic.

Hey guys, I know its been.... 2 months since I updated this. Sorry for the long wait. Shifts at work went up to 9-12 hours each for a while. Now I'm temporarily quarantined as my father tested positive for Covid 19. Things are a bit rough but I have a lot of downtime now so I'm hoping to get some writing in. Unfortunately it's been a while so I kind of forgot what all I had planned for this fic, so I'm open to any suggestions. Thank you again for your patience.

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~---~

"You saw that, right?"

"Yeah."

"So… I'm not having delirious hallucinations steeped in caffeine and exhaustion?"

Hood whipped around to stare at him as he narrowed his eyes on the spot the apparent not apparition had disappeared from.

"How much…?"

"Not the point."

"Yo, dumbass, you won't operate at full capacity if you neglect your fucking health," Hood deadpanned, walking past him and latching onto his cape to drag Red behind him as he went.

Twisting around in the hold, he dug his boots into the gravel and gripped the clenched hand, "Shouldn't we follow him.. Her.. Them? Whatever, we should figure out what that was."

"No, we should go home and clean out your wound. We'll look into them when they make themselves known again. Trail is definitely cold by now."

"No-"

"Shut it, you're too far gone to be obsessing."

Giving in for the moment, he followed Hood back to their closest safehouse, stripping the top half of his uniform to let Jason stitch the jagged tear of skin in his lower back. As the wound wash poured over it, he spaced out on the process, trying to process the last half hour.

It'd been a normal fight. Or at least, normal for them. A group of Black Mask's men had been harassing some of the girls down by the alley. Not their usual MO, not really, but enough to piss Jason off and in turn, Tim. It'd been simple really. It didn't hurt that Hood had a history with the bastards and the target on their back wouldn't grow from a few lowers being knocked around a bit. Until one got a lucky swipe in. 

Tim could tell from the silence behind him that Jason was none the wiser on what exactly happened in those brief moments from the sharp edge cutting his skin to the drop of the body behind him. They never even checked to see if the guy was alive or not. Hood had hauled him up to the fire escape, out of the way and turned back to find the remaining thugs they hadn't already knocked out booking it out of there like they'd seen actual hell displayed before them.

Down below a still figure stood in the shadows. Blood red eyes flashed up at them before the person? Disappeared from view. Poof. Gone.

As they left, no sirens could be heard. As expected in such an area, nobody had called the police. Neither could say they blamed them. This also meant they probably wouldn't ever figure out if the man who got Tim lived or not.

That wasn't the part they were thrown by though. It had seemed, if only for a second, like the person was protecting them. As if they had acted completely on instinct. It had to have been for the reaction to be so instantaneous. The swing was only halfway across his back before impact. Like they saw the attack coming before he had. 

And for the life of him, Tim could not think of a single ally who'd want to protect him so fiercely, nevertheless one with glowing red eyes. Afterall, all his friends were dead.

Which meant they had another motive. 

One he needed to know.

The hunt was on.

…

Marinette dropped into her new abode, dropping the rings of magic layering her skin and started the slow process of removing each piece of jewelry to clean and lay back into its proper resting place. 

She used three tonight. Just the three. Though with how they had worked within her, she knew a change was needed. Sass and Trixx had waged war within her through the night, neither agreeing nor properly disputing every shift in magic, every decision made, every single change in the wind. Nothing was agreed upon. 

Her eyes roved across the three pieces of the night before carefully picking up the bracelet to be deposited within the hidden box along with Trixx's necklace.

If Trixx couldn't settle within her while combining with others, it could never work. She'd need another.

Carefully mulling over another she raised it slightly for Plagg to look over. 

The little cat kwami met her eyes only to nod his assent. If she could feel, perhaps she'd regret denying Plagg's request for rest. She didn't actively use him unless necessary, like tonight, usually only using him for more passive powers. Powers He never knew or bothered to discover. Plagg hadn't questioned her decision. The fact still stood that he was the only one who understood. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't hold it against her.

Releasing an unknowingly held breath, she closed up the box, sealing the top of the sewing basket over the hidden compartment that housed the kwamis. 

Longg settled against her collar, not bothering an attempt to talk, simply along for the ride. Not many of the kwamis tried anymore. 

Dinner was a slow, arduous task. Bland and thoughtless, but necessary. It was only after that she washed up and settled in for the night. 

Maybe a year ago this would feel like a great adventure. A monumental pinnacle of her newfound freedom and adulthood. Instead, it just felt hollow.

For a moment. Just a moment, she felt alive. Watching him. Saving him. Meeting his eyes in the dark and knowing he saw her. The thrill of protecting someone she had cared about. It had reminded her of something she once held dear. She couldn't recall it now, but she knew it then. She knew her reason to keep going. If only she felt it now. If only she could recall that instance, to find out what it really meant. Now her insides seemed carved out and numbed over into a frostbitten tundra, but she knew something had filled her if only for an instance. She needed it. To feel it again and again and again until maybe it found every darkened, rotted out crevice and brought life into the seemingly never-ending emptiness.

Whether it truly had to do with Red Robin himself or just managed to latch onto the familiar figure, she didn't know, but she knew she wouldn't be able to move on until she found out.

[merthurglompfest]

Merthur Glompfest 2020 Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who participated in Merthur Glompfest 2020! It’s been a bit of a ride, with all of us having to deal with extremely unexpected circumstances compared to when the fest launched, but we hope that everyone is safe and well, and that all our Glompee’s enjoy their gifts!  Please check out the masterlist below for all our fantastic entries and we look forward to seeing you all next year!

fifty_fifty & schweet_heart

Gift for mega_mathi | Better with You | by Leandra [ Explicit | 15344 ] Summary:  Arthur is having a terrible day full of bad news, misfortune and a mouthy and irritating manservant. Strangely enough, it’s a rather surprising altercation with said irritating manservant that turns the day around and soon, Arthur is convinced that having Merlin in his bed is the remedy to cure all his horrible days… Gift for broken_fannibal | Breaking Points | by elirwen [ Teen & Up | 2595 ] Summary: His magic bound, their captors ruthless in their torture, Merlin needs to find a way to get both Arthur and himself to freedom. Gift for KimliPan | Broken Days, A Guide and How To Manual | by arsenicandsunshine [ Teen & Up | 20652 ] Summary: In which if Merlin has to see the cracked gray of his bedroom ceiling one more time, he’s gonna scream. Or punch someone. Maybe the wall. Definitely Arthur, who can’t seem to find the words to say what he wants to, but after the morning Merlin’s had, whatever it was can’t possible help. Gift for silklace | The Coming of the Golden Age | by fifty_fifty [ Explicit | 49526 ] Summary:  With King Uther dead, the moment Merlin has been waiting for is finally here: Arthur is king. But his and Arthur's relationship isn't the only thing that's heating up, and with the threat of war on one side and social unrest on the other, some big changes are in store for Camelot – whether they like it or not. Gift for nekoii | The confident king and his nervous mage. | by digthewriter [ Gen | Art ] Summary: Arthur and Merlin on their wedding day. Gift for mega_mathi | A convenient marriage | by Lyss2011 [ Teen & Up | 13786 ] Summary: Love, Merlin thought, caressing the word and signature with his thumb. Arthur was courting someone whom he loved. And who he loved was Mithian. What else could the M stand for? In which Merlin and Arthur have a marriage of convenience, Merlin falls in love with Arthur, and Arthur courts someone who couldn't possibly be Merlin. Gift for actuallyitscaptain | A Crown of Smoke | by CandiceWright [ Explicit | 5421 ] Summary: The execution of a sorceress leaves Camelot on edge and triggers a magical threat that Merlin can only fight by revealing himself. Then Arthur is presented with a choice: to follow his father's footsteps or to let Merlin live, all while battling his feelings for the servant. In the end, it wasn't much of a choice, was it? Gift for jasminum_draconis | Daughters and Fathers and Sons, oh my! | by archaeologist_d [ Mature | 3608 ] Summary:  Morgana was just trying to help keep Arthur and Merlin’s liaison a secret. Little did she know that there was more than one secret in the castle. Gift for afreezingnote | Deadly Games | by keeperofstories [ Teen & Up | 31281 ] Summary: Merlin, Arthur, and the knights of the Round Table get caught in a trap. The trap wasn't meant for them but they have to suffer through the consequences anyway. Secrets are revealed and relationships are threatened. Gift for Cupidity11 | The Diamond Sea | by Excaliburstark [ Gen | 11123 ] Summary: Merlin comes to court, driven by curiosity and desire after he saved a golden haired man during a storm. A Mer!Prince Merlin and Royal Arthur au Gift for Aranei | Don't Let it Be Forgot, That Once There Was a Spot, for One Brief Shining Moment, That Was Known As Camelot | by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy) [ Teen & Up | 8617 ] Summary: An emotionally constipated Prince Arthur thinks he’s being clever in his endeavour to push his new manservant, Merlin, away, but his plan has a major flaw and unexpected consequences. How far will he go to get what he’s lost back? Gift for Merlioske | down the rabbit hole | by TheDragon [ Mature | 4899 ] Summary:  In which Arthur discovers Merlin is sleeping with Gwaine and promptly flies into a jealous rage. Gift for actuallyitscaptain | The Eternal Silence of These Infinite Spaces | by aoigensou [ Teen & Up | 26069 ] Summary: After a spat with Arthur, Merlin retreats for some quiet in the Darkling Woods. What happens there takes away his voice, and forces Merlin to figure out how to exist in a world where communication doesn't come easily. Gift for blueskysunnyday | Feint | by Camelittle [ Explicit | 14440 ] Summary: Three insufferable brothers visit Camelot, making life intolerable for Arthur. Luckily, he has a cunning plan for escaping into the forest with Merlin. A totally solid, sound and foolproof plan, which he certainly is not making up as he goes along. Gift for Jayfire | The Hat is Never Wrong | by MapleBreeze [ Gen | 2504 ] Summary:  When Arthur gets sorted into Hufflepuff upon arriving to Hogwarts, he is shocked and devastated, fearing his father's reaction. But the hat is never wrong and Arthur becomes determined to show just how great Hufflepuff can be.   Gift for KimliPan | Heart of the Woods | by Nympha_Alba [ Gen | 4801 ] Summary:  When one of Merlin's spells misfires, Arthur is left without a memory of who he is and why he's there. Thinking Arthur will have no recollection of any of this when his memory returns, Merlin makes the risky decision to show him how beautiful magic can be. Gift for actuallyitscaptain | Hold On To Your Heart (Hold It High Above Flood Waters) | by tehfanglyfish [ Teen & Up | 10437 ] Summary: After accidentally causing Uther's death, Morgana entered self-imposed exile. The loneliness took a heavy toll until the Great Dragon swooped into her life to recruit her for babysitting duty. Now Morgana spends her days caring for Aithusa, while using her magic to spy on Camelot. As she discovers the secrets that Arthur and Merlin have been keeping from each other, what choice does she have but to give them a much-needed shove? Gift for KasumiAFKGod |  It's the Distance We Don't Need | by tabbytabbytabby [ Teen & Up | 6245 ] Summary:  Merlin can't stand Arthur, and he's more than sure Arthur feels the same way. It's been that way for as long as Merlin can remember. There's no reason for that to change. He's fine with the way things are. It's not as if he likes him or anything. No, the person he likes is Al, one of his best friends that he talks to about everything. The only problem is they met online and despite knowing they go to the same school, Merlin has no idea who Al really is. Things grow more complicated when Merlin and Arthur are forced to work together on a project and Merlin starts to realize that maybe Arthur isn't as bad as he thought. Gift for Merlioske AND pukajen | Light the way Home | by actuallyitscaptain [ Gen | 1097 ] Summary: Freya lives, and Merlin runs off with her, sure that his feelings for Arthur will never be reciprocated. Arthur is stuck at the castle trying not to panic because Merlin LEFT HIM! To top it off, his connection with his soulmate is flaring up. Since soulmates are worse than magic in his father's eyes, he and Gaius are left trying to dodge bullets. Gift for Aranei | Lucky Charm | by Aeris444 [ Gen | 1087 ] Summary: The Knights think Merlin bring them luck. But who will be lucky in the end? Gift for Merlioske | Meddling and Other Sins. | by Michaelssw0rd [ Teen & Up | 5541 ] Summary: Gwaine is just about Done™ watching Arthur and Merlin dance around each other. It's been going on for too long. Any more of it will give Gwaine brain disease-- if he hasn't already contracted one from the two idiots. So really, doing something to get those two together is almost as much for his own sanity, as it is for them. Gift for SeverusBarbosa | Merlin, Morgana, and the Merry Men | by Elizabeth [ Mature | 13645 ] Summary: Merlin and Gwaine return from the Crusades to find Prince Agravaine and the Sheriff of Nottingham terrorizing the local peasants. Arthur and Gwen never wanted to be a part of a corrupt ruling class, but it's the card fate has dealt them. Merlin, though, isn't one to sit back and let it happen, so he and Morgana make a plan: steal from the rich and give to the poor. Together with their merry men, they're the stuff of legends.But being Robin Hood becomes more complicated when one falls for Arthur and the other falls for Gwen. Gift for Kais767 | Not so Silent a Night | by archaeologist_d [ Explicit | 7134 ] Summary: Merlin and Arthur are returning from their final quest for the year when a blizzard blocks the road back to Camelot. The closest village just happens to be Ealdor. But with Arthur an insensitive prat, and Merlin resenting having to be a servant in his own home and at Christmas time no less, things get a little heated. Gift for deathcomeswithakiss | only honest when it rains | by somethingaboutwriting [ Teen & Up | 11081 ] Summary: Merlin is sneaking off to see a girl. Arthur's handling it very well. That is, apart from these weird flowers he keeps coughing up. Gift for Krysania | The Portrait | by arthurandhisswordbros [ Teen & Up | 20917 ] Summary: Arthur must have his portrait made. It is customary that the man servant is depicted as well with his master. Arthur makes the most of the occasion by secretly ordering the painter to produce a small portrait of Merlin smiling. He keeps it preciously in a locket around his neck. Merlin is going crazy with curiosity. Gift for Jayfire | Of Clotpoles and Idiots | by sdewan6 [ Teen & Up | 1592 ] Summary: “You know, Merlin,” Arthur says, once it’s done, “For such an idiot, you’re not that bad.”Merlin beams back at him, unconsciously reaching to tug at his neckerchief. “For such a prat,” he replies, “you don’t always completely suck.” Four times Arthur called Merlin an idiot and the one time Merlin called him a clotpole. Gift for El_tuco | Operation: Picnic Basket | by DevonShea [ Gen | 3562 ] Summary:  Arthur wants to get Gwen and Lancelot together. He needs Merlin's help, of course. Could it lead to something more? Gift for nekoii | Rain Over Me with the Colours of Love | by sdewan6 [ Teen & Up | 2494 ] Summary: Arthur tries to return his focus back to the speech, but Merlin is the only thing on his mind, for some reason. Not that he likes him or anything, obviously. Nothing about his idiotic smile or his dumb gorgeous blue eyes or stupid neckerchief that suits him so much makes Arthur want to kiss him. Absolutely not. He’s the prince! He’s not going to fall in love with his manservant. Except he already kind of has. In which Arthur really loves Merlin and Merlin really loves Arthur Gift for BlazingPenicls | Tripping in the Flowers | by actuallyitscaptain [ Gen | 1378 ] Summary:  Arthur tries (and mostly succeeds) at being romantic. Really, what more can you expect from two idiots in love? Gift for broken_fannibal | Trying to Hide | by fictionalinfinity [ Gen | 1761 ] Summary: When Merlin fails to show up to work, Arthur is furious, but that all changed when he finds Merlin in tears. Gift for afreezingnote | Whatever You Want to Be | by Impala_Chick [ Teen & Up | 5329 ] Summary: Arthur, and those that were hiding out with him in the caves, are captured by scouts and dragged back to Camelot. Morgana sets Arthur's public execution into motion to solidify her rule. But her plans are thwarted when Merlin reveals his magic. After the dust settles, Arthur can't deny that his feelings about magic, and about Merlin, have changed. Gift for deathcomeswithakiss |  You've Got Your Reasons | by FervidAsAFlame (with art by CandiceWright) [ Teen & Up | 11678 & art ] Summary:  Arthur is the perfect flatmate — he pays his rent on time, works so much that he’s not even home half the time, and is totally okay with Merlin’s magic. Best of all, Merlin is pretty sure that Arthur has a crush on him — that is, until he stumbles across a list of things that Arthur hates about him. Merlin is upset of course, but he pushes aside his feelings to focus on being a better roommate so that Arthur will renew their lease for another year. Most of the things on the list aren’t that hard to correct … so how come Arthur seems to get more and more annoyed as Merlin improves his behaviour?

[pepperful-qt]

pepper!! could i get a moodboard with tsukishima 🥺👉👈 a concert date if you would. i generally listen to pop punk, pop rock, punk rock type of music but i vibe with anything really. our relationship involves a lot of fucking teasing bsjshsks you know the vibes like 3am convienient store runs and maybe stealing a shopping cart. for aesthetic uhh i cant really think of one so you decide on that! btw congrats on 200 and i absolutely love your works keep it up bb!! ilysm 💞

❈ 200 Event ❈

your date with Tsukishima

Tsukishima knows how to find concerts. you don’t know how and he refuses to tell you, but he’s the first to hear about bands coming to town, where they’re playing, etc. he also knows the best small venues hook me up pls

that’s what this is. not a full stadium, instead a medium bar where everyone stands in a crowd. it’s hazy and hypnotic, but he’s got his arms securely around your middle the whole time. if you start dancing he’ll let go, but still say close enough to have his hands on you. the most you get him to do is bounce a little on his feet if you’re lucky

he’s that one lanky dude in the middle of the floor, but no one has the guts to tell him to move hAHA

he’ll probably complain a lot about the people, the drinks etc, just jab him in the ribs enough and he’ll ruffle your hair (that you styled) but cease

seriously though, you need to see better? he’ll help you shove your way forward or “politely” ask someone in front of you to move. you want to record but also want to watch the performance? he’s got you covered, and it’s good footage with his vantage point

afterwards? you guys are still riding the adrenaline. Tsukki’s smiles are a lot more common 

and so, convenience store time

yall are really arguing in the aisle about which brand of chips to get when you end up getting three additional ones anyway smh

the teasing turns into good-natured horseplay, each of you shoving and smacking the other and (you) giggling very very loudly, until one of you knocks into a shelf, dislodging it and sending all of the snack bags crashing to the floor

both of you just stare in silence before looking at each other

“this is your fault” he says that mf

BUT you get your slushies (if you mix your flavors he gags) and bajillion snacks and beat it

you just gesture at a shopping cart and he’s just like “ugh” but then just LEAVES YOU BEHIND with his long ass legs

you end up at a little outing overlooking the city, critiquing both the snacks and the concert you’d just gone to. knowing him he probably brought a bluetooth speaker bc he’s just like that

‧⁺˚*･༓ ☾ ༓･*˚⁺‧

“Jeez, when did you get so heavy?” Tsukishima groaned in your ear while putting his full weight on the newly-stolen cart to push it up the hill. When you had finally caught up to him you’d hopped into the cart basket and started munching on one of the ten snack bags within it. Serves him right anyway, in your opinion.

“It’s what you deserve for trying to abandon me,” you huffed and crossed your arms across your chest prepensely. For good measure you leaned back, forcing Tsukki to adjust himself to the added weight. 

“Yeah right,” he sighed through gritted teeth. “That was totally your fault. I’m the victim here.”

“Firstly, no,” you indignantly declared and held up a finger, adding another before you continued. “Secondly, I didn’t exactly force you to run off with a shopping cart at gunpoint. That’s on you-” 

Before you could put up a third finger and continue berating him, your stomach lurched and your body was thrown forward as the cart started rolling down the hill. You let out a shriek and the open bag flew out of your hand, showering you in its contents. Two seconds later you were thrown back, knocking the breath out of you. A cheeky laugh made you snap your head to look at your boyfriend wearing a shit eating grin. 

“Oops, my hand slipped.”

“You asshole!” You flung out an arm to swat him, barely missing even at your awkward angle. Tsukki’s grin morphed quickly into an innocent pout.

“Oh please, at least if you died you’d be with the thing you love.” You started to give him a disgusted look at the horribly cheesy line, but saw how he looked pointedly at the snack bags surrounding you in the cart. 

“Yep, certainly not you. You’re disowned.” As you faced forward and crossed your arms once more you felt him ruffle your already messy hair, pressing a ghost of a kiss at the crown of your head.

“Finally.” 

‧⁺˚*･༓ ☾ ༓･*˚⁺‧

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #17: A Perfectly Normal Prom Night

Words: ca. 2,500 Setting: mAU Lemon: No CW: None

The whole thing started rather innocuously. It was the middle of summer when Elsa and Anna’s parents had dragged them to an outdoor concert for one of those old timer bands. The girls, having just finished eleventh and tenth grade respectively, were not exactly thrilled about their parents’ choice of music, and so pretty soon they wandered off together, eventually finding some relative peace and quiet in a patch of grass and flowers off at the opposite edge of the wide field from where the concert was taking place, where they talked for a while about the things teenage girls typically talk about.

Anna, who was prone to being consumed by nervous energy, busied her hands by picking the nearby flowers and weaving the stems together. When she’d woven enough of them to form a small flower crown, she interrupted whatever Elsa was saying at that particular moment then leaned forward and placed the crown on Elsa’s head.

“Um, thanks?” Elsa said, with a light blush on her cheeks. She was, as ever, rather self-conscious. “It looks silly doesn’t it?”

But Anna shook her head. “No, actually, it looks really pretty.”

The blush on Elsa’s face only deepened.

Elsa wore the flower crown on the car ride home. She wore it around the house for the rest of the weekend. Come Monday morning, by which time some of the stems had started to wither and unravel, she presented the remains to Anna, who salvaged what she could and wove the remaining bits into Elsa’s braid, her facing beaming with pride.

And so it became a ritual for the sisters: Anna gathering flowers and braiding them into various formations, and then placing them in Elsa’s hair until she blushed. Elsa, presenting herself each day for her floral adornment. It was a curious sort of reversal of their usual big sister/little sister roles, and Anna found she rather enjoyed it. In fact, she enjoyed it rather a lot.

The school year started up with no interruption to their ritual. If anything, it brought them closer. It was not uncommon to find Anna fussing with the placement of the flowers in Elsa’s hair during their shared lunch break. Or on their walk home from school. Or while watching TV together on the couch after dinner. And maybe they started inviting each other to hangouts with their respective friend groups more than they had before. All in all, it was a pretty good year.

They were eating two dollar burgers on a picnic bench at the local park when Elsa casually asked Anna to go to prom with her.

“You don’t have someone you’d prefer to go with?” Anna asked, trying to play it cool but feeling a little bewildered.

“I do, silly. I just asked you,” Elsa said before taking a large bite of her hamburger.

“Okay. Sure.” A casual answer for a casual question.

In truth, the prom talk reminded Anna of a fact that she’d done a rather good job not thinking about for the past year, which was that Elsa was going to be going off to college in the fall. Like the flowers in Elsa’s hair, their lives had become woven closer together in the past nine months, and Anna wasn’t looking forward to Elsa being gone.

And so, rather than wallowing in self-pity, Anna resolved to go all out for this prom thing.

The first item was the dress. Some quick internet searching turned up several options online; she went with a long green dress with floral embellishments on the bodice. It wasn’t egregiously expensive, but it would be shipped from overseas and so she had to cross her fingers that it wouldn’t look horribly cheap in person. Luckily it was long enough that she didn’t really have to splurge on shoes, as they would go mostly unseen.

Second was the ride. It took some horse trading with her father, but she managed to get him to shell out for a limo—don’t you want Elsa’s night to be special, Dad?—even if it meant she’d be the one mowing the lawn all summer.

The third, which came together in the last few days before the dance, was the corsage. She’d had to scour every flower shop across town before she found one that would make a corsage of Elsa’s favorite flower, the crocus.

And then there was the last thing, which was stupid and foolish, and conveniently fully refundable if she chickened out at the last minute. Anna wasn’t fully sure which of the two outcomes she would prefer.

When the day came, Anna even did the little ritual of going around to the front door once she was all dressed up and ringing the doorbell. Her father answered the door and gave her a little wink, then turned to call for Elsa to come downstairs, thankfully before he could spot the light blush rising on her face. When Elsa came around the upstairs hallway and descended the stairs, there was no more hope of Anna hiding the bright crimson blush on her face from anyone.

Elsa’s dress was a gorgeous lavender color and surprisingly a bit short, for a prom dress. The bodice was all floral lace, and below that were several tiers of tulle skirts which came down to just below her knees. Her hair was done up in a fancy braid, and woven into it Anna spotted a few of the flowers she’d left on Elsa’s dresser that morning.

Anna thought she had never seen someone so pretty in her life.

If time had seemed to slow for that first glance of Elsa on the stairs, it definitely sped up after that. Anna presented the corsage and pinned it to Elsa’s dress, earning her a dazzled look when Elsa recognized her favorite flowers. Her father took the requisite ‘prom couple’ photos before the limo showed up to take them to their destination. Anna had to repeat several yes really’s to Elsa’s did you really?’s as their parents ushered them into the waiting vehicle.

At the venue they met up with their friends and generally just had a blast. When the slow songs came on they would find each other and catch up on whatever hijinks the other had missed, or poke fun at their coupled friends being sappy with each other. Anna didn’t even mind when they spent the last ‘dance’ snacking on chocolates at the refreshments table instead of on the dance floor.

After the dance came the after parties. Neither of the girls was much of a wild partier, but it seemed apropos to at least see what all the fuss was about. All in all, they had a good time. At one point Anna actually did sneak a shot of tequila when she was offered, for courage. Or tried to sneak; Elsa had somehow noticed and gave her a very judgy older-sister look which Anna only managed to disarm by fussing somewhat dramatically over the state of the flowers in Elsa’s braid.

The night dragged on. At about one in the morning the two sisters found themselves at an all-night diner with Rapunzel and Eugene, sharing a basket of french fries. They’d lost Kristoff when the group had briefly stopped in front of the local gay bar. When the fries ran out, Eugene and Rapunzel excused themselves; Eugene mentioned that it was time to take his girlfriend home, with a very big wink when he said the word home. Anna just rolled her eyes at him. But hey, that was part of the whole prom night thing too, right?

Anna couldn’t help but notice that Elsa looked a bit down when they left the diner. The limo was long gone at that point, so Anna hailed a cab with the app on her phone. Once they were underway, she broached the topic of what was making Elsa glum in that moment.

“We had an amazing night, right Elsa? I didn’t screw anything up?”

Elsa, who had been gazing out the car window, turned to face Anna, eyes wet around the edges but not crying exactly. “Oh, Anna, of course not. You were perfect, everything was perfect. It’s just that—well, I told myself I didn’t want any… entanglements before going off to college, but seeing Eugene and Punz going off to have some, um, special time together—” Elsa stopped abruptly and composed herself a little. “I just kinda don’t want the night to be over yet.”

“So um, about that,” Anna started to say, just as the driver pulled up to their destination.

Anna got out of the car as Elsa scooched across the back seats and then joined her on the sidewalk, just as the taxi pulled away. The sidewalk which was definitely not the driveway of their house.

“I got us a hotel!” Anna announced excitedly, before she could choke on the words. They were in fact, standing in front of a fairly nice hotel near the edge of downtown.

“You didn’t,” Elsa replied, deadpan, though her eyes were wandering up the side of the glass building to the bright blue sign near the roof many stories up.

“We can still go home if you want, I haven’t actually paid anything yet,” Anna offered, but Elsa’s answer was to head towards the front door and into the lobby.

Anna trailed after her, managed to wrangle Elsa along with her to the check-in desk in order to procure the room key. The process of which was somewhat elaborated by the fact that Anna could barely get her words out, suffering a bit of shock at the part where Elsa hadn’t just called up another taxi to take them home. It was definitely the tequila talking when, in the elevator, she grabbed hold of Elsa’s hand. Elsa shot her an indecipherable look, but didn’t let go.

They were still holding hands when Anna keyed the door lock with her free hand, opened the door slightly, popped her foot in the gap to hold it open, and then promptly spun around to face Elsa.

“Turn around,” Anna ordered, and was surprised when her sister complied.

“Anna,” Elsa whined, and the tone in her voice gave Anna a curious boost in confidence.

“Close your eyes,” Anna half-whispered, as she pulled her hand loose from Elsa’s and then raised both hands up to cover Elsa’s eyes. With a bit of an awkward shuffle, Anna managed to guide them both backwards through the doorway, before turning them both in place so that she could guide Elsa forward into the center of the room. And then, with a deep breath, she dropped her hands and let Elsa see.

It wasn’t just that Anna had gotten them a hotel room. That could have been excused as just a fun place to hang out to cap the night off. Anna, god help her, wanted her message to be clear. Which was why the hotel room had only the one king-size bed, completely covered in white rose petals.

Elsa stepped forward tentatively, ran a hand along the edge of the bed, disturbing some of the flower petals. She glanced at Anna briefly, and then back at the bed and around the room. After a long moment that felt like an eternity to Anna, Elsa turned around, kicked off her heels, and sat on the edge of bed with a look on her face that heavily implied that Anna should start talking.

Here, at the crux of all the plans she had orchestrated for this night, Anna found that she didn’t need really need that tequila courage to say what she needed to say.

“I think I’m in love with you,” she confessed. It was a lot easier to breathe like a normal person now that she’d said the hardest part. “I know it sounds absurd, but that’s the only way I can make sense of the way you make me feel. It was just little things at first, and then I started having thoughts and I wasn’t sure—I’m still not sure sure to be honest. When you asked me to go to prom with you, I thought that maybe, maybe you felt something like I do?” Anna paused, hoping the Elsa might respond, but the expression on the blonde girl’s face remained enigmatic. With a bit of resignation, Anna sat down on the bed next to Elsa. “I got this hotel room so that we could—so that I could tell you how I felt. In private.”

Elsa just looked at her for rather a long time, and Anna felt like she could see the various thoughts she must be having go to and fro in her sister’s head.

“And what did you think we would do in this hotel room,” Elsa inquired eventually, with a curious tone in her voice, “now that you’ve told me, if I felt the same way?”

“W-whatever we’re both, um, comfortable with?” Anna responded hesitantly, taking Elsa’s hand in hers once again. “Which could totally be nothing at all, I mean, if you don’t feel that—”

“Can I kiss you?” Elsa asked immediately, before Anna had finished speaking.

Whoa what?

“Uh, yes?”

How was she so unprepared for the very thing she had been hoping would happen?

She felt a little bit like her spirit had left her body when Elsa quickly lifted her free hand to caress Anna’s cheek, and then leaned in until their lips pressed together. Anna wasn’t exactly an experienced kisser; she’d kissed a few girls (and yes, boys), but mostly in the hesitant, high-school way where neither person knows what they’re doing. And still, this kiss with Elsa felt a little odd. It felt, somehow, like Elsa was asking a question, only… Anna didn’t think she was the one who was supposed to answer it. And just like that, the sense of elation from just moments before dropped out of her chest and curdled in her stomach.

Elsa, perhaps sensing the shift, pulled away. Looked away. But their hands were still clasped, and Anna took that as a sign of something. After a moment, she gave Elsa’s hand a brief squeeze of reassurance. I’m still here, she endeavored to say without saying.

“I don’t think I’m in love with you,” Elsa said, and before Anna could fall to pieces, Elsa finally looked back at her and there was something bright in her blue eyes. “But. Maybe you’ve just figured it out sooner than me? Because I do want to kiss you some more. I wanted to kiss you so bad when you gave me the corsage earlier tonight. Wouldn’t that have caused a scene!”

Elsa laughed then, and the sight of it transmuted all of Anna’s mixed up emotions into her own burst of laughter because yeah, Elsa surprise kissing her in front of their parents would have been a whole damn fiasco and who knows if they would have even been allowed to leave the house in that case? And Anna was really glad they had gotten to spend this time together.

“Is that okay? That I don’t feel, um, quite the same thing as you?” Elsa asked, when Anna had mostly collected herself.

“I think so?” Anna replied, rubbing away the streaks from tears that had escaped during her fit of laughter. “We just have to communicate, right? If something changes, it has to be okay for either of us to say something.”

“Of course,” Elsa confirmed. And then she got a particularly mischievous smile on her pretty face.

“What? Elsa, what!” Anna pressed, when her sister still didn’t say anything.

“Well, I did say I want to kiss you some more, didn’t I?” Elsa scooted back on the bed until she was sitting in the center of it, then trailed her hands through the rose petals that still blanketed the sheets. “Your plan worked. You’ve got me all alone in this romantic hotel room with you. What are you going to do with me?”

Anna never once complained about mowing the lawn that summer.

[rokutouxei]

our shadows fall away like dust

part 6 of atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theo van gogh/mc | T |  3623 | [ao3 in bio]

spoiler warning: this references a scene in chapter 25.

other warnings: this fic has references to depression, some hurt/comfort, and an understandable existential crisis. essentialy, you and Theo have matching fragile emotional pieces, so you establish boundaries, pledge honesty, and do your best to make each other stronger.

A habit of playing hide-and-seek with no one, Theo calls it, whenever you ducked away from the rest of the mansion like a quietly sneaking mouse. He always catches you, of course, but knowing that he’ll find you despite any attempts you have of hiding does not ease the worry he has whenever you fall back into that.

No one in the mansion had seen you for hours, as you tiptoed past residents and crossed hallways unnoticed throughout the rest of the day. Jean said he saw you in the balcony earlier that day, looking out over the city, but then nothing after lunch. Vincent recalled seeing you help serve food at noon, but without a word to him and Dazai at the table, you had disappeared out the hall before he could reach out. Arthur last saw you even earlier, breakfast, noting that even then you had looked a little forlorn, quite downcast, while you were putting away some plates. Napoleon, on the other hand, saw you headed out the garden to get and fold a mountain of sheets, which he offered to help with, but you had turned him down.

You had not only gone missing; you’d also been completely out of character.

It doesn’t help that Leonardo had approached Theo once he’d gotten home to ask, “Something happen with cara mia?”

Theo left early this morning, on account for a series of several tasks at hand that had to be completed for an upcoming exhibit. It was one that had been building up for the past few months, and finally, you had gotten the go signal with a friendly client willing to rent you some space, and everything has been busy since. You were supposed to go with him—the artists have really become fond of you, and having you around always brightened their spirits—but you had begged off in the morning because you were not feeling well. You had sounded groggy, but also kind of sick. No fever, Theo noted, but he didn’t want to push you, in the off chance that it turned into something worse. He asked you to stay put for the day, and you’d smiled at him weakly and let him go.

But maybe he should have stayed a little longer.

Now, it’s dinnertime in the mansion. Dinners are usually your favorite, because it is then when Sebastian serves his well-known desserts, beloved to you (and, really, anyone who would have the chance to taste them.) But you were not at your usual place in the table, your dinnerware untouched. Theo came home humming, excited to have finished his tasks early—more time with you is the best time—only to feel his joy replaced with an unsettling dread upon hearing that they hadn’t heard from you in a bit. Sebastian swears he hadn’t seen you leave the mansion either, and Theo knew better, of course.

It didn’t make him feel any better.

He didn’t need to spend that long time looking. Hide-and-seek with you wasn’t a common occurrence—thankfully—but it happened often enough that he would not need much to figure out where you were. He peered out the window to check the garden (no sheets) and on his way to your room he checked in the laundry room (no sheets either) and then he knew exactly where you were.

He knocks three times on your door before opening it.

You made a promise to him once that you wouldn’t lock it, ever, no matter how off you felt, and at that moment Theo was so glad you had agreed to it. Even as he enters the room, you don’t raise your head from where you are curled up on the armchair. You don’t make any move to hide your state either: the fresh sheets crumpled in a giant ball thrown from the basket onto your bed, your messy hair, your cried-out eyes, the scratch marks along your arms made from bitten nails. Theo closes the door shut.

“Hondje.”

You make a gentle “mmmh” noise that Theo takes as approval to approach. He steps gingerly down the carpet, sitting on your bed, across you. He watches you closely for a long moment, without saying a word. You feel his stare against your skin, not burning, not angry, just warm and curious and asking. Finally, you turn your head to look at him. Your eyes are red.

Did something happen? Who hurt you? Let me help you. I love you. What did I do wrong? Who wronged you? Theo’s voice nearly shakes when he settles with “Talk to me.”

To that you only shrug. There’s not much to say, after all. Not yet. You curl tighter into a ball, your cheeks mushed against your crossed arms. You sniffle in an attempt to breathe and Theo’s heart clenches in his chest.

With every word weighed carefully, “Sorry,” is the first thing that stumbles out of his mouth—the only word of care and affection he can piece through the fog of worry that’s building in his mind.

Theo’s like that, always so sparing with his words, but they’re always so full of love. You’re thankful he’s here by your side. You force a small smile he can only see half of, but it stings him anyway. “Not your fault,” you say, and your voice is raspy and catches in your throat. “Just me. Like always.”

For a moment the two of you stay there, in shared silence, testing the air for what’s best to be done next. Theo knows he can coax the words out of you, but not now. Not yet. Now, you just need to have him pull you back to the ground. He stands up from his seat and presses a kiss against the crown of your head, gently urging you into his arms. When you collapse into his warmth, he takes the chance to lift you up princess-style into his arms. You press your face against his chest and sigh.

He turns to place you on your bed to make you more comfortable, but upon remembering it’s currently occupied, he decides to bring you back to his room instead. You place both your arms around his neck as he carries you up effortlessly. You don’t notice if anyone sees the both of you pass by. If someone were there, they make no comment or noise as you walk past them in the hallways. You focus on your breathing (four seconds in, seven seconds hold, eight seconds out) and the scent of Theo’s skin. The next thing you know, you hear his door opening with that familiar swing, the sound of it clicking close, then the creak of his bed under both your weights.

Finally, you let yourself open your eyes. The lights are out, the only brightness coming from the moonlight slipping through the window, silver on the bed sheets. Theo is loosening his tie and taking his jacket off, hanging them as he prepares to sit next to you on the bed. You pull a pillow to your chest (it smells like him, like comfort) and sigh into it just as he climbs next to you.

“How was today?” you say softly, asking in advance to deflect whatever question of concern you knew he would inevitably ask you. You’re not quite ready to answer yet. “I’m sorry I couldn’t go. I hope you passed my regards to the artists.”

“I did,” he says, as he pulls you up to his broad chest into a cuddle. You lean against him, thankful to have someone to lean all this useless deadweight on, someone who will not mind carrying you. “They were looking for you before they even said hello to me. ‘Where’s the princess? Why are you alone today?’ Seems like you’re going to be a better dealer than me after all.”

“Pffsh, no way.” What you want is to be there to help him—and to see him—make his dreams come true. You’re not there to compete. “I’m still leaps and bounds behind you. They were probably just teasing you, since you’re so fun to tease.”

“I’m not fun to tease,” he argues. A little tick of dissatisfaction; he wants to demand what made you think he is fun to tease, but when he feels you smile against him, he realizes maybe it doesn’t matter. He presses you closer to him.

Theo feels defeat when he realizes he’s become used to this happening, but he immediately reprimands himself. Him knowing how to take care of you when you need him most is not defeat, it’s victory.

The both of you relax in the shared silence, not pushing, not impatient. Maneuvering the highs and lows isn’t new to either of you; the basis of most of your trust is the acknowledgement that the other understands what it means to be at the bottom end of it, facing the brunt of a bad swing. It seems pitiful, it seems scary—two people vulnerable to the same fickle mind and heart, trying to patch each other up.

You don’t notice just how tense you still are until Theo begins to run his hands through your hair gently, easing out the knots, massaging your scalp as he goes. You make a soft noise of contentment—Theo always says it sounds like you’re purring, like a cat—and fall limp against him, surrendering.

The words climb up your throat, a rocket fighting with all its might against gravity to get out into orbit.

“I got scared.”

Theo’s hands pause in your hair for just a breath, but then continues. Its steady, consistent rhythm only eases you into a more relaxed state. “About?”

About? The word echoes in your head over, and over again, into the dark cavernous abyss. About what, really? Why the hesitation—why are you so unsure? There are too many things to count. One worry riding an avalanche, getting bigger and bigger until you can no longer lift your shoulders.

“Everything.”

And it’s not a lie, really. It started off like this: yesterday, the door to the future opened as it usually does, every month, without fail. Unlike a few months ago, that very day you decided to stay in the mansion, the unlocking of the door isn’t really much of an affair anymore, except perhaps when Comte announces he’ll be off for a while and maybe you can ask him to bring some things from the 21st century, if that’s where he’s headed. It was just an ordinary, crescent-moon night.

Except it didn’t feel like it.

Somehow, you’d gotten into the habit of staying away from the door on the night that it opens. You still do rounds around the mansion sometimes, when you’re not out at work with Theo, so you get the chance to peer into Comte’s room and catch a glimpse at the door’s hourglass. It’s not that you’re willing yourself away from temptation, and crossing the door, but somehow, it feels safer, in your head, to just be away from it on that night.

Except yesterday.

You were on the way back to Theo’s room, after having a relaxing dip in the thermae, when you crossed the hallway leading to the time-crossing door. You weren’t even going through the hallway, just past it, but in the corner of your eye you felt like you saw someone down the hall.

Someone, being you.

Looking down the hallway with the moonlit window at the far end of it, illuminating the door, you could only imagine what you looked like that night you arrived, when Theo first saw you. Terrified, confused, banging at the wooden door begging it to open. What would you look like to the you back then? Already used to the life in the 19th century, perfected the manners (well, most of it), dressed in appropriate clothes. Would you have been terrified of yourself?

And with that thought, you went into the hallway, lights already long dimmed. You had in your hands a little candlestick, illuminating the space around you by a warm, yellow glow. And standing with it in front of the door that had ultimately changed the course of your entire life, you felt… small. You hadn’t thought of home in months. This was home now—Paris, 19th century. You knew that. But muscle memory of a whole life you’d lived still remembers what it was before this. Before the Louvre. Before Theo.

Without thought, you reached your hand out onto the door.

And for just a little bit, it pushed open.

You held it there, for what felt like hours, head buzzing. You weren’t thinking of going back, no, you love what you have now here, what you’ve built, what you’ll see in the future—and maybe you’re a little terrified, of course, two world wars, a plague, maybe multiple—but you couldn’t pull your hand away from it. Something kept you stuck there. You could see the carpet going through under the door, could imagine the hallway, with the paintings, leading all the way out to the other side.

At that moment, you heard footsteps from the other hallway. And you let go of the door like it was hot. Just as it clicks back into place, locked for another full month, Leonardo peered into the hallway.

“Loitering so late at night, cara mia?”

You’d be embarrassed at Leonardo having seen you in your sleeping clothes if you weren’t so flustered about the door already. “Just a little nostalgic. I should go to bed.” You cross the hallway as quickly as you can, and, greeting him quickly with a soft goodnight, scutter off into Theo’s room like nothing happened.

But something definitely happened.

You just don’t have the words to explain it.

Never have.

It just spiraled. The way it usually does—uncontrollably, like a car without a steering wheel. One thought led to another. And the next thing you know, you’re lying in bed next to the person you love the most, lying to his face about feeling sick, clutching the heavy rock of pessimism nestled in your heart.

(But maybe this is also a form of feeling unwell.)

Theo pulls you a little closer to him; the touch returns you to the present, and you wonder how long you’d zoned out on him like that. At least you feel warm now, none of the overwhelming cold that had taken over you all day. It’s always warm when Theo around. Like the first rays of sun after a long night.

And Theo thinks the same. Which is why it’s so hard to see you like this. Stuck in the 19th century, a hundred years behind what you’ve already known, it felt like he’d put the sun in a cardboard box. He doesn’t know what happened yet. Only knows that something did. And whenever something does, every time you go play hide-and-seek with him, his mind goes back to the day at the wheatfields, where he’d asked you for everything you could ever give.

And everything he cannot give.

Like your parents, growing old, turning feeble, not knowing what’s left of their child.

Like your friends, perhaps still looking, perhaps still remembering you ever so often, wondering where you’d went.

Like the places in your memory. Like the things you would have wanted to come back to—items of sentiment, places of importance.

Like the things you’d begun to build. The things you’d spent most of your life dreaming towards, all left behind a shut door that opens, like a monster, teasing, making you doubt, ask you over and over again, what did you lose, what did you trade away, was it worth it? Will it ever be worth it?

And maybe—you hadn’t talked about it, but maybe—maybe you’d wanted to let it go to begin with, and maybe that’s what made it easy to just turn away. But maybe Theo had also promised you something much more than he could give. Maybe you’d thought it was much more than what it actually was, is, will be. There’s no finding out about these things until it’s too late.

Theo wonders if it’s too late.

But even if it is, what’s left now is you, and him, and art, and everything else, so instead, he holds on to you for dear life. He has never spoken to you about this, and he has never known how to. Instead, he asks, “Can I make it better?”

“You already do,” you say, turning around so you can rest your cheek against his chest, listen through his clothes to the reliable thump, thump, thump of his heart. “It’s just me.”

“It’s not you,” he argues. It’s never you. Never to him.

“It is,” you insist. “I didn’t even feel bad to begin with, I just… I don’t know what happened. Something came over me and… now I’m just worried about things I can’t change.”

Theo feels his heart in his throat. “Is it really something you can’t change?”

A beat. “I don’t want it to change,” you answer weakly, before closing your eyes and pressing even closer to him. “I like it here, Theo.”

Theo feels something in his heart break.

“I like you being here too,” he answers.

Then, again, silence. Silence with Theo isn’t scary, isn’t worrisome—the two of you understand each other through these shared silences. There are things Theo can’t put into words and—so do you. They get said in these shared, wordless breaths. Somehow. Sometimes.

But sometimes, the words come out anyway.

“I hope one day it will be enough.”

You blink, Theo’s voice low and heavy. “What?”

The two of you turn to each other and just look. Searching, trying to understand, the look on your faces, your eyes. Theo turns away first.

“No, Theo, it is enough,” you say. “You don’t have to blame yourself. I’m still adjusting, this is normal.”

You don’t see it, but disbelief fills his features. “A part of it is certainly my fault.”

“It isn’t, and even if it is, I’ve forgiven you for it.”

Theo cradles those words to his chest. Presses a kiss on the crown of your head. "Thank you."

"It's nothing."

"It's something," he insists. "When something like this happens, when things get this way, I wish you would tell me instead.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. You sound tired. Your entire body feels heavy. “I would have, I just… I don’t want to worry you.”

“You know I don’t mind when you worry me, right?”

“I know, but sometimes you push yourself too much.”

“You know I'm willing to walk to hell and back for you,” Theo admits.

“And that’s the point,” you say as you push him away gently, a hand on his chest, forcing him to make eye contact with you. “You can’t keep sheathing an open blade with your hands your whole life. You shouldn’t,” you say. “It’s not just choosing to stay. It’s just… what started this all. I’ve always been like this, Theo. You know that.”

And he does. He knows you understand how he had, for the longest time, hid in his dark corner of revenge because you know what it’s like to carry that pain around all the time. To stand like it’s not slung on your back. To act like it’s not bothering you.

You continue, “I love you, and I love that you’re willing to do so much for me, but Theo—I want you to take care of yourself too.”

Theo has no response to that. There’s nothing more he wants to do than be at your side for every second of pain, of joy, of agony—and to be told to step back, he fears what he’s bound to lose.

You take a deep breath, sensing his hesitation. “You can’t take care of me when you’re hurt too,” you explain, pressing the palm of one hand to his cheek. “And I will never hold it against you, if you decide to step back. I don’t expect you to save me every time. Besides, I know you’re not leaving, you’re just taking a breath. Okay?”

“Okay.” Theo lets it all sink in. “But you’re not allowed to push me away when you begin to think that you’re a burden or all that. I get to decide when I’ve had enough. Is that clear?”

“Sounds like a fair deal,” you say, glad that he’s accepted your terms. You return to your safe space, face burrowed into the crook of his neck, and sigh when he begins to run his hands through your hair once again.

There are a lot of things the both of you still have to learn about maneuvering around each other: it always is, at the start of loves as great as this. And maybe now, it seems pitiful, it seems scary—two people fragile to the same fickle mind and heart, trying to patch each other up, but soon, eventually, the two of you will find a system that will keep the both of you afloat. Keep you together, no matter what kind of storms you might need to weather.

You look up at Theo once and smile; and he smiles back, maintaining his gaze on yours, feeling deep relief at the gentle, slow return of the light in your eyes.

“Thank you for finding me,” you mumble softly, cuddling even closer to him, so close that you feel most of your worries melt. “Stay with me until I’m better?”

He presses a kiss against your forehead, and you can almost hear him saying I’ll stay with you forever.

--

in the atelier: la mélancolie by Louis-Jean-François Lagrenée

[ericsonclan]

The Courtyard Aglow

Summary: Prisha thought it would be an ordinary day at Ericson when she starts noticing that everyone is acting strangely.

Word Count: 2952

Read on AO3:

Something seemed different about today. That was the thought that stood in the forefront of Prisha’s mind as she worked with Ruby in the greenhouse. She had first picked up on it when she had gone out to the courtyard. Willy avoided eye contact and made up some sort of excuse that made absolutely no sense. Even though he had defended his statement that he had to go water Garbage, Prisha knew that wasn’t the real reason why he scampered off. But she also knew it wasn’t out of annoyance or anger since he had grabbed AJ who seemed overly excited when he spotted Prisha and began whispering stuff to his friend.

Louis kept giving big grins her way and even Omar was smiling more than usual. Violet was acting odd too, telling Prisha that she had to help Louis with something important and that she had switched greenhouse duty with Ruby. Prisha didn’t mind spending time with Ruby though, that wasn’t the issue. She found the redhead to make pleasant company. The two of them seemed to share appreciation for maintaining the simple beauties of life even when the world had ended. Still, even she was acting extra chipper today. Prisha couldn’t quite place why but there had to be some reason why all the others were so overly excited. But what could it be?

“Oh, don’t pick those yet!” Ruby’s voice snapped Prisha’s attention back to the task at hand and she saw that she was pulling at some unripe herbs.

“I’m sorry!” Prisha apologized as she quickly pulled back her hand from the planters and picked up her small basket before heading to the next one. She recalled that Ruby said they needed to harvest the jerusalem artichokes today. Her eyes scanned around for the root vegetable. She quickly spotted the yellow buds that grew on the top of the jerusalem artichokes. Prisha began to pull the vegetables out from the earth, careful not to damage the buds so that she could bring them to the courtyard for the others to make some flower crowns together.

“Oh Sug, don’t worry about it.” Ruby looked over at her friend with a warm smile as she picked up her own basket that was filled with today’s herbs. “We just gotta make sure not to waste any food.”

“Absolutely, the last thing I would want is to do that,” Prisha returned the smile and began to take the buds off of the earth-colored lumpy root vegetables. Ruby was about to add to the conversation when suddenly the door shot open. The door whacked against the wall of the greenhouse making Willy flinch as he stood in the doorway.

“Shit, I’m really sorry!” Willy glanced around to make sure there were no hidden walkers nearby that had somehow been drawn by that sound. “Ruby, have you seen the mason jars?” The young teen looked at the redhead who was dusting off some dirt from her hands. Willy’s eyes shot over to Prisha and grew large. “Oh, hi Prisha!” Willy beamed.

“Hello, Willy,” Prisha smiled at her friend. Willy’s gaze soon returned back to Ruby.

“Willy, you have to be more careful with that door. All that ruckus could draw anything near here. Besides we don’t wanna have the door come off its hinges,” Ruby scolded but soon saw the look of guilt in Willy’s eyes. “That being said, the mason jars should be in the admin building behind the staircase.”

Ruby’s words made a toothy grin appear on Willy’s face. “Awesome! Then me and Rosie are on the case!” It was in that moment that Prisha and Ruby noticed the pitbull happily laying in some dirt behind Willy. “Come on, Rosie!” Willy gave a whistle and the pitbull lifted up her head, her stubby tail wagging ecstatically as she barked and chased after Willy. The teen was soon sprinting off in the direction of the admin building, leaving the greenhouse door wide open.

“That boy, honestly. The least he could do was learn to close the door behind him,” Ruby shook her head and lifted up the basket. Prisha didn’t respond though, her mind focused on her curiosity as to what was so important about some mason jars.

“Prish?” Ruby’s voice made Prisha glance over at her friend who was in the doorway. “Ready to head back?”

“Oh, sure!” Prisha quickly grabbed her basket and held it on her hip as walked forward. Ruby immediately noticed that the basket was too heavy for her friend to carry with just one hand so she placed the smaller herb basket on top of Prisha’s before she bustled over to one side of the basket and held it, evenly distributing the weight. Prisha smiled appreciatively and the pair walked back to the picnic tables in content silence.

Prisha and Ruby walked through the courtyard and past Aasim who was tending to Molly’s mane. He gave a wave over at Ruby who gave a more playful one back. Prisha gave a teasing look to Ruby who was about to return the teasing but they’d already reached the picnic tables. The two friends set down the basket, causing a small thunk to emit from the table which made Omar lift his head from his spot by the fire pit.

“Dinner should be ready soon,” Omar smiled warmly at them. “Which means another hour or so,” Louis playfully joked as he sat at the picnic table with Clementine. Their fingers intertwined for a few seconds more before they focused on preparing the vegetables.

“You can’t rush perfection,” Omar looked over at Louis who nodded in agreement.

“True, true, and with all this time I have while cutting up veggies I think it's time for another episode of Stew With Lou!” Louis’ statement made Omar groan but he didn’t stop his friend from continuing. Prisha looked around and noticed that AJ, Violet and Willy were nowhere to be seen.

“Looks like I’ll take a shift on lookout duty,” Ruby bustled over, quickly stopping by Aasim to share a few quick kisses and loving words before she got up on the watchtower.

“If you’re wondering where Vi and the others are, Violet is busy grabbing some more firewood and Willy and AJ are grabbing something for tonight,”

Prisha took a spot at the table across from her friends. “What are they grabbing for tonight?”

“That's a secret,” Clementine smiled then quickly turned her attention towards her boyfriend’s commentary about stew, giving him soft kisses every so often as they worked. Prisha’s eyes wandered over to the admin building, still wondering what the conversation about the mason jars had to do with anything.

“They should be around here somewhere,” Willy poked his head into an old box behind the staircase and coughed roughly when he inhaled dust.

“Did you find them?” AJ asked as he worked to try and move a heavy box down to examine its contents. Rosie barked and hopped this way and that in concern for AJ’s safety.

“No, I can’t find them,” Willy frowned before he looked at AJ, a smile forming on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face?’ AJ wildly moved his hands around his face in confusion.

“Nah, you just have some spiderwebs in your afro,” Willy laughed as AJ began to try to get them out of his hair only for them to end up stuck on his hands.

“It’s not funny,” AJ frowned at Willy who was laughing at his friend’s struggles against the sticky webs.

“Yeah, it is! I-” Willy paused when he saw the metal lids of the mason jars shimmering in the dimming sunlight. The young teen jogged over and lifted up the box which held more than enough mason jars for what they had planned.

“This is going to be so cool! I love lightning bug season!” Willy gave a toothy grin. His eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Me too! Fireflies are really cool!” AJ moved to help his friend in checking all the mason jars to make sure they weren’t cracked. “I remember when Clem and I first caught fireflies here. It was like the whole courtyard was covered in little fires.” AJ smiled nostalgically at the memory.

“It's going to blow Prisha's mind when she sees the whole courtyard lit up with lightning bugs!” Willy exclaimed a bit too loudly which made AJ reach up to cover his mouth.

“Careful, we can’t have the surprise be ruined!” AJ peeked his head out from behind the staircase but no one seemed to have reacted to his friend’s loud voice.

“Sorry,” Willy spoke after AJ pulled his hand away. “I hope she's never done this before, like how it was with you and Clem.”

“Me too!” AJ checked the last few mason jars. “All clear. No cracks.”

“No cracks on my side either!” Willy and AJ smiled before high fiving. The two of them excitedly began to carry out the box when suddenly Willy skidded to a halt.

“Oops!” He ran over and picked up Garbage who had been fascinated by a dusty empty box and was considering it for her new den. “Almost forgot Garbage,” Willy jogged forward with the possum who made soft hissing sounds. The friends soon wandered outside to prepare for a fun evening.

It had taken nearly an hour before dinner was ready which meant that Omar was worn out from the extremely long episode of Stew with Lou as he helped serve dinner with Ruby. Soon everyone was at the table and eating happily. Rosie happily made her rounds around the table while Garbage chilled on her back and enjoyed the ride. Louis spoke animatedly about the hunting expedition he had gone on with Clementine who added in some details here and there, bringing down the exaggerations in the story.

“Then I saw a rabbit as big as AJ!” Louis exclaimed as AJ stared at him in awe.

“It wasn’t that big, but it was fat,” Clementine smiled as Louis took her hand and smiled at her.

“And where is this fat rabbit?” Aasim asked as he looked over at Louis.

“I had a heart and decided to let it roam free,” Louis smiled heroically and looked around at the table, wanting them to praise him for his heroic deed.

“You missed the shot, didn’t you?” Violet smirked over at her best friend.

“Maybe,” Louis’ eyes focused back on his stew and soon the conversation shifted to another topic. As the conversations continued to change so did the sky. Its warm orange hues shifted into the cool dark blue of evening as the stars began to emerge from their hiding places in the sky. Everyone was finished with their meal and Prisha was about to ask Louis if he wanted to work on writing down some more show tunes that she’d remembered when suddenly Louis stood up, causing everyone to glance over at him.

“I think it’s about time!” Louis declared with a smile. Willy and AJ looked at each other with huge grins on their faces and got up to gather the mason jars.

“Okay.” Aasim stood up and slowly started to collect dishes. “Ruby and I can get the dishes done while the rest of you set up.” Ruby soon followed suit as she picked up the bowls around the table. Aasim and Ruby worked together quickly and began to steal small kisses here and there while they worked.

“Wait. What’s going on?” Prisha asked as she walked away from the picnic tables. Her eyes looked towards her girlfriend but for some reason Violet wasn’t meeting her gaze.

“It’s a surprise, but a really good one,” Violet took Prisha’s hand and smiled gently.

“Vi is right. You’ll see soon enough.” Louis gave a playful wink then spun around, his tailcoats fluttering as he ran to help Willy and AJ. The three of them returned shortly, their arms full of mason jars. They placed them down on the picnic table that Ruby and Aasim had cleared. A few minutes later everyone gathered around the table and started to grab a jar for themselves. Prisha stood, still confused by what was happening. When suddenly she felt something tap against her arm.

“Here you go.” Violet offered her girlfriend a mason jar.

“What is it for?” Prisha held up the mason jar and studied it out of curiosity. There was nothing special about it.

“Patience is a virtue, Prisha.” Louis smiled over at his friend before he looked over at Clementine who seemed overjoyed at whatever was about to happen.

“It will be clear in a minute, I promise.” Violet reassured Prisha before motioning for her to sit down by the flagpole. Prisha decided to trust Violet and followed her and the others who were already sitting there. Everyone was silent as they glanced around this way and that. A few minutes passed. All of a sudden lights started to brighten the courtyard as fireflies filled the area. Their small, bright lights made the courtyard radiate a glow that felt nostalgic even though Prisha had never witnessed fireflies in person before. Her eyes widened in awe as she saw the courtyard aglow, sparkling with childlike joy at the wonders of these small creatures. Prisha looked around for a few more moments before turning to Violet who had a soft smile on her lips.

Violet gently intertwined her fingers with Prisha’s. “Sorry I didn’t tell you. We all wanted it to be a surprise.” Violet rubbed the back of her neck while looking at Prisha.

“Surprise!” AJ and Willy simultaneously yelled before running forward to start trying to catch the fireflies. AJ studied the fireflies carefully before trying to snag a few while Willy wildly spun round in circles and laughed with joy. Garbage hissed at the fireflies, trying to intimidate them, but soon found them to be pleasant and so she chilled on Rosie’s back once more. The pitbull lay beside the flagpole and enjoyed the simple beauty of the courtyard.

Willy skidded to halt for a moment and dashed over to Prisha. “Prisha! Prisha! You gotta join us!” He grabbed her arms and pulled her up.

“Alright, alright,” Prisha laughed as Willy continued to excitedly drag her forward. She shared a smile with her girlfriend before she became lost in the competitiveness of firefly catching. Clementine got up and soon was by AJ’s side. The two of them strategized the best ways to catch the fireflies while Prisha and Willy ran around the courtyard, laughing and throwing competitive words back and forth.

After a few minutes Prisha took a break and noticed that the others were having fun as well. Ruby and Aasim were sitting with Omar who took the patient approach and let the fireflies come to him, the bugs curiously investigating the mason jar themselves. Prisha’s eyes wandered over to Louis and Violet who were starting to get competitive as well though their efforts also seemed collaborative as Louis was giving Violet a piggyback ride in order to catch even more fireflies.

“It’s a tradition here at Ericson.” Clementine walked over and stood beside Prisha. “Every year during the summer, fireflies fill up this entire courtyard. Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” Clementine smiled up at her friend.

“Yes, it does. I’ve heard of fireflies but never saw them personally. It really is something special,” Prisha’s heart grew warm as she took in the beauty of the courtyard.

“The courtyard looks so divine. Aasim and I always spend evenings like this enjoying the view.” Ruby glanced over from her spot at her friend.

“And see who can catch the most lightning bugs!” Louis called out as he stood by Violet. “You ready to get your butt kicked, Vi?” he asked with a competitive smirk.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Even with my shitty sight I'm still going to beat you.”

“I don’t know, I beat you last summer in the lightning bug catching contest. I’m a master at it!” Louis pulled on the sides of his coat with a grin.

“That year didn’t count,” Violet moved past Louis before he could comment on that and began to try and catch fireflies. It became clear that Louis would win this round too as Violet tried her best to catch the fireflies but with her limited sight often failed. The soft, happy smile on her face never left though and she laughed alongside Louis as the pair continued to catch fireflies.

“Care to have a competition with me?” Clementine smiled over at Prisha.

Prisha looked at her friend with a warm smile. “I’d love to but be warned, I predict I have a hidden talent at this,”

Clementine’s eyes flickered with excitement at that declaration. “We’ll see about that.”

Soon the two of them were busy using different strategies to try to catch the most fireflies while AJ and Willy had dragged Ruby, Aasim and Omar into running around the courtyard to catch the glowing critters as well.

After a while everyone was calming down from their wild chasing of fireflies. Prisha wandered over to Violet and effortlessly took her hand. Violet glanced up and the smile returned to her face. The two stood in front of each other as the fireflies danced around them. A look of wonder covered their faces as they watched the small orbs of light illuminate the area around them. Prisha gazed at the courtyard filled with fireflies for a moment longer then at the smiles of her friends. Her heart felt a new sense of peaceful joy in that moment as the fireflies continued to dance around her. This truly was a magical sight.