#i miss being terrified of ruin guards and desperately sneaking around them

[prettybbychim]

so i got navia on my second account. AR 45, world level 5, highest character level is 70-80. everyone else hasn’t even breached 70. i’ve been neglecting artifact farming for exploration

so uh

looks like i won’t be building navia anytime soon bc goddamn the waltzing meks are Tanky

my venti crits at like 8k lol kaeya maybe does like 3k maybe

and to do the boss right i need pneumousia so a slot is taken up by navia solely for that purpose.

although, at level 30~ish meaning level 1 talents, random artifacts, level 20 melusine claymore (and i’ve not helped a single melusine), she can reach 6k on her skill

but that doesn’t help when she gets one-shotted after xinyan’s shield breaks after one hit lmao

aye-

[sonnet009]

Wilder: Jamal’s Story (Route Summary)

PROLOGUE:

MC decides to flee Ziya alone. A rotund wine merchant named Barlow offers her a timely rescue, smuggling her out in one of the wagons in his caravan. On their journey across the Shining Sands MC learns that Barlow is a wealthy and ambitious man who can afford not only a team of djinn guards but even a pleasure slave. It is this pleasure slave who warns MC that Barlow intends to ransom her back to Ziya and urges her to leave the caravan. Though afraid, MC chooses to stay rather than risk facing the desert alone. Jamal is not pleased at the prospect of continuing to share his wagon.

CHAPTER I:

The caravan stops so Barlow can take his dinner out under the stars. MC joins him and Jamal while the djinn guards keep watch. Barlow is very blatant about his sexual relationship with Jamal and Jamal for his part fawns over Barlow in return. MC has never seen anything like it. Left alone for a few moments, Jamal teases MC that she can't keep her eyes off him.

During the next day's travel the caravan is attacked by a raiding group of djinn come down from the Western Hills. The djinn guards rally around Barlow to protect him but change their minds when the leader of the wild djinn offers them a free life with the tribe. Barlow and MC are pushed onto their knees, faces in the sand, and Barlow is beheaded. MC hears Jamal's horrified gasp.

MC does not share Barlow's fate. She is restrained and brought back to the Hills with the tribe and their new recruits. She is not sure why, but feels in her heart that this is no salvation.

CHAPTER II:

While the new djinn are welcomed into the tribe, Jamal sneaks over to where MC has been tied. He probes her about her rich, important family and muses that she must have connections in Umar. Though he knew she was fleeing Ziya he doesn't seem to have the full story – he certainly doesn't know that MC is an accused murderer and therefore utterly without connections or power.

After a ritual in which each new djinn must eat a piece of a raw deer heart, the disgusted Jamal has had enough. In the dead of night he frees MC in return for her promise to take him to Umar. They catch their breath by the river but are soon discovered by one of the ex-guards whose disdain for Jamal the pleasure slave is obvious. He calls out for the rest of the tribe and MC and Jamal run.

The tribe pursues them far, all the way to the base of the mountainous Knives. With little other choice, MC and Jamal head up – away from the Hills but only into more danger.

CHAPTER III:

MC offers condolences for Barlow's death. Jamal is dismissive and MC realises that though he appeared to adore the man it was all just an act. He doesn't miss Barlow, just the security that being his personal slave offered. Jamal insists that MC is his master now, though MC insists that she is not. Jamal reveals his intention for MC to sell him to a famous pleasure house in Umar, and for that she has to be his master.

Jamal whines and gripes the whole way up the mountain path. In contrast, MC finds a fortitude within herself she never knew she had. In the night he attempts to seduce her though she rebuffs him, saying, “I told you, you don't need to do that.” The next day they stumble into the path of a mountain lion. Jamal hides behind MC while she scares it away.

They come across a hot spring and MC spends most of her time trying to avoid looking at Jamal's naked and shameless displays designed to get her attention. But when he asks her to wash his hair it is with genuine, vulnerable wanting so she does so. It is the most intimate moment MC has ever shared with anyone.

CHAPTER IV:

In the sprawling farmland on the other side of the mountains, MC and Jamal are caught in a sudden downpour. Sheltering in an old barn, they share a sweet, quiet moment that turns into an argument when she once again refuses to claim him as her slave. MC is secretly very drawn to Jamal, but fears that his affection is all a lie and that she will be taking advantage of their positions if she lets herself believe him. He accuses her of looking down on him and gives her the cold shoulder. This means that MC has missed another chance to confess that she is not the connected noblewoman he believes her to be.

As they continue on their journey in strained silence, a group of bandits appear and block their path. MC is afraid but not as afraid as Jamal. However, when one of the men grabs MC and makes lewd comments, Jamal exclaims, “Hey!” surprising no one more than himself. As the scene turns to violence, MC and Jamal learn that even a light slap from a djinn whose claws have been growing for weeks can be devastating to a human body. MC thanks Jamal for his protection while he desperately tries to get the blood out from under his nails.

They finally make it to Dijarah, a port town where MC intends to board a ship sailing for Umar. The one problem? She has no money.

CHAPTER V:

To earn money in Dijarah, an innkeeper agrees to hire MC and Jamal to work in the kitchen. Jamal is aghast at the prospect, especially when he meets the old battleaxe of a cook on whom his charms utterly fail. Jamal is terrible at every practical task put before him and, after only a few days, is utterly miserable.

MC is gentle and encouraging with Jamal, and he eventually is able to put aside his pride (a little) and improve. He finds it amusing to think of a world in which he worked here instead of as a pleasure slave. But when MC takes this question seriously he balks and insists that he would never want an unglamorous life like this. “I know what I am,” he says quietly.

As the two grow closer, Jamal tells MC the story of his life. Bred illegally and born sick, Jamal was passed under the table from master to master, role to role, failing at all of them. Finally dumped in a pleasure house as an insult, Jamal actually flourished there – able to put his natural charm and artistic talents to use. That is why he cannot even consider another life. MC asks if he would choose the same life if he were a free man. Jamal goes quiet and does not answer.

CHAPTER VI:

One day MC walks into the kitchen to see Jamal scrubbing pots with all his might then absent mindedly tidying up some things – not as part of his assigned task but just because it needs doing. MC announces herself and they compare their palm callouses and growing arm muscle. One night Jamal is asked to perform for the inn's patrons by playing the lute – he is giddy with excitement to be the centre of attention once more, though the audience is not his usual clientele. He plays and sings beautifully and MC sets off a standing ovation that nearly makes him cry.

An evening shift turns tense when a group of drunkards start causing trouble. Jamal shocks everyone by taking charge of the situation and intimidating them into leaving. Though, as soon as they are gone, his legs turn to liquid and he slides to the floor declaring how terrifying the whole thing was. The innkeeper draws him a hot bath in thanks. Jamal asks MC to wash his hair again. Though she won't join him in the tub – despite his persistence – Jamal does wash and style her hair for her in return.

Finally MC and Jamal have enough money to book passage on a ship. As they are boarding MC catches sight of Hamza in the crowded street. She drags Jamal away to avoid getting caught, though now she is less afraid of being arrested than she is being exposed to Jamal who still doesn't know that she is a fugitive. She resolves that she must tell him soon, even if it ruins the... friendship... that seems to finally be blossoming between them.

CHAPTER VII:

Hamza has also boarded so MC spends most of her time hiding in her cabin – and Jamal has no objections to passing the days relaxing on a soft bed. She tries many times to broach his misconceptions about her but is consistently thwarted by interruptions and her own cowardice. A rich passenger tries to buy some time with Jamal from MC but she staunchly refuses. Jamal is delighted by this, then confused as to why he is so delighted.

One night they lie side by side on the bed and MC asks Jamal why he is so set on being sold to this particular brothel. He explains that, not only is it a famous venue, but if they purchase him then by Umar’s laws he will no longer be a slave but an indentured servant. MC says that isn’t good enough – she wants to free him. Jamal is dismissive of such an impossible idea but MC insists that Lord Yasir, the most powerful man in Umar, could surely help them. Jamal asks why MC would be seeking Yasir’s help for herself and she prepares to finally tell him the truth when– the ship’s bell rings. They have arrived.

Hamza catches sight of MC at just the wrong moment. She drags Jamal off the ship, pushing past everyone else, and manages to lose Hamza in the moonlit streets of Umar. They come to Minerva’s Pleasure House. Inside is a whole new world to MC but Jamal is in his element. Then he goes quiet. “I don’t want you to leave me here. I want to stay with you. I want to be–”. The madam interrupts, realises exactly who MC is, and throws her and Jamal out of the place, calling MC a murderer and threatening to tell the authorities if either of them ever return.

CHAPTER VIII:

MC hurries to Yasir’s estate, a confused and suspicious Jamal with her, and fortunately finds the merchant-turned-lord to be very welcoming and willing to provide sanctuary. Jamal confronts MC and she finally admits everything. Jamal is devastated. He accuses her of using him, of dragging him through danger and hardship just for the amusement of it, of being just as rotten as Barlow and the others. “You think so little of me. You think nothing of me.” MC cannot explain her actions without admitting – to Jamal and to herself – that she has been falling in love with him. Jamal is stunned. Then he turns and leaves the manor.

He returns in the morning and apologises for leaving, kissing MC on the cheek and saying that he understands she was only doing what she had to do – she’s a survivor. He turns down MC’s attempts to make him a free man and instead asks Yasir to use his influence to place him in the pleasure house. “No more pretending,” he says in response to MC’s protestations. “I know what I am.” Yasir arranges for the madam to accept him as an indentured servant.

MC and Jamal say a fraught goodbye in the gaudy room that is to be Jamal’s from now on. Jamal kisses MC and, at his soft declaration that he has fallen in love with her too, she gives in to her passion and they come together in a tangle of flesh and emotion. After, as they lie in bed, the door is kicked down and in bursts Hamza to arrest MC. Jamal is remarkably unsurprised. “I should’ve known it was all a lie from the beginning. All those things you said about my potential. Trying to make me doubt who I am; what I am. But you know something, mistress?” There is nothing but cold resolve in his eyes. “I’m a survivor too.”

CHAPTER IX:

MC is transported back to Ziya to face her execution. She spends the journey thinking on Jamal. That night he left the manor he must have gone to Hamza to arrange the ambush. Anger and betrayal come in cycles but always give way to regret and the knowledge that she brought this on herself. MC’s execution is a public event on the steps of the shah’s palace, but the proceedings are suddenly interrupted by Jamal and Yasir’s right-hand-djinn Royo. Since MC was under Umar’s protection, Ziya’s actions in abducting her have been taken as a hostile act. Hamza takes justice into his own hands and attacks MC with his sword. Jamal tries to protect her but she pushes him away, taking the blade in her chest.

MC wakes in her old bedroom in her Aunt and Uncle’s villa. The blade missed her heart and, though badly wounded, she will live. Jamal is by her bedside. He asserts that he hasn’t forgiven her, and he’ll never forgive himself, but he wants her to know that Hamza was the one who caught and pressured him into the betrayal that night, and Jamal convinced himself that she deserved it. But he regretted it immediately and went running to Yasir for help. He confesses that he wasn’t lying when he said he’d fallen in love with her. He thinks that’s their shared fatal flaw – they’re dreamers.

When MC next wakes quite a lot of time has passed. This time it is Royo who comes to see her, informing her that the political pressure from Umar – and Yasir specifically – has worked. To avoid trouble between the two cities, Ziya has agreed not to execute MC but to exile her. Royo must return to Umar now but says that MC is welcome there once she is well enough to travel. MC asks after Jamal but Royo shakes her head. He is waiting by the carriage to leave and will not return to the villa. MC asks Royo to take something with her when she goes – a letter addressed to the madam of Minerva’s.

BITTER END:

Two years have passed since the almost-execution and MC has been travelling ever since, working tirelessly in whatever jobs she can in order to save money and send it periodically to Minerva’s to bit by bit pay off Jamal’s “debt” to the pleasure house. Finally with enough to complete the contract she returns to Umar.

When Jamal sees her in Minerva’s he covers his shock by asking if she is there to taste him once again. They go to his room and MC interrupts his cold, emotionless seduction with the last of the money he needs to truly be free. He insists at first to not want it then finally cracks open, tears spilling down his cheeks. “But where would I go?” MC says he can go with her if he likes. He doesn’t answer, conflicted, still so afraid to trust. MC backs off and says he can go wherever he wants to go; anywhere in the world. She leaves the pleasure house but lingers outside, hoping that when Jamal comes out a free man he will choose to go with her after all.

SWEET END:

Two years have passed since the almost-execution and MC has been travelling ever since, working tirelessly in whatever jobs she can in order to save money and send it periodically to Minerva’s to bit by bit pay off Jamal’s “debt” to the pleasure house. However when she journeys to Umar with the final payment she is informed by the madam that Jamal has already been freed from his contract and left months ago. MC turns to Royo for help, who informs her that Jamal had also been working hard to pay for his freedom – taking on extra chores and responsibilities at Minerva's – and that last she knew he was heading for Dijarah.

MC sets sail immediately. When she disembarks at Dijarah’s docks she is stunned to find Jamal waiting, Royo having sent word ahead. There is a tense moment of uncertainty then Jamal launches himself at her, catching her in a tight embrace. He thanks her for contributing so much to buying his freedom and says he’s never worked so hard for anything before – for the chance to live a free life. To stand before MC as an equal. To say he loves her and for it to be the simple truth. Hand-in-hand, Jamal escorts MC to his new place of employment – the inn in which they spent so much time before. He winks. “I hear they're hiring. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Treasure hunt Part 2

Pairing: dragon!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, mentions of breeding, non-con.

Words: 2035.

Summary: No knight would dare to save a sacrificial bride of the dragon.

Part 1

______________

Stepping on the cold stone floor of the cave, you carefully circled around the mountains of gold and silver and moved forward. Navigating in the dark was incredibly hard, but the soft glow of gems and shining armours here and there helped you to get through. 

You were in your old torn nightgown again, the fancy garments Steve had gifted you laying on the bed along all those necklaces, earrings, cuffs, broches and rings finished with precious stones. You didn't need any of those as you run towards your way out of the deep cave. The only thing you craved for was your freedom.

Almost tripping over the golden spear, you finally saw the moonlight coming from the entrance of dragon's dungeon. You held your breathe. You were so close.

In a second you sprinted towards it with gleeful abandon, thinking of the dark night sky, huge fields and mountains surrounding the cave. It was scary to think you would have to fend for yourself from now on, but you were a traveler. You could make it as long as no one tried to seize you like those villagers, now all gone thanks to the dragon's wrath. You gulped. You prayed he would sleep soundly while you sneak out in the darkness of the night.

A part of you felt guilty for leaving him after everything he had done for you, but being his little pet because he deemed you too feeble to leave was humiliating. Maybe you would find some other way to thank him for his generosity later. As of now, the only thing on your mind was getting away from this place.

You could already feel the slight chill in the air when you got closer to the huge entrance of the cave and rushed towards it, thinking of nothing else but the cool wind blowing outside. Your lips curled when you saw the moon and stars high above you. However, before you stepped on the grass, you felt a push so strong you ended up thrown far back at the rocky floor and yelped in sudden pain - you crushed your elbow, blood seeping from it on the cold stone beneath you. Tears sting at your eyes as you hugged your arm and bit down on your lip to stop screaming.

What was that? What had pushed you so hard it sent you flying? You saw nothing in front of you, no scary creatures guarding the entrance of the prison you were locked in. Yet something didn't want you leave.

... or rather someone.

In a few moments you heard a distant sound of flapping gaunt wings and stilled. You had awoken the dragon with your cry, and now he was coming for you. You had failed terribly.

His blue eyes were glowing in the dark brighter than gems as he flew to you in his true form, big as a mountain, while you stared at his scaled golden wings with horror. His monstrous shadow covered you from above before he started landing, his gaze disturbing, anxious. A flap of his wings set off a little tornado, and you pressed yourself to the floor in panic. He was going to eat you. Burn you. Make you suffer for your disobedience. You had to stay in the cave instead of opposing his wish to protect you.

You sobbed quietly once the dragon had partly changed his form in haste - although his body was human, his sharp claws and long tale belonged to the dragon, his new appearance strange and frightening. He hurried towards you, his eyes on your blood-stained arm.

"What happened to you, my love?" Steve asked, bending over and reaching for your elbow. "Why did you leave your bed?"

What could you answer? With eyes full of tears, you kept your mouth shut, watching him growing with worry at your silence. You had betrayed his trust. 

"I will heal your wound, stay still." He sighed when you chewed on your lower lip, afraid to look at him.

The ointment suddenly appeared in his hand as if by magic, and Steve had torn the cotton fabric forcefully to look at the blood seeping from your arm. He said nothing at all as he wiped the wound and applied fresh-smelling balm on your skin. You felt disgusted at yourself: your savior had been so patient and kind, yet you preferred to escape without expressing your gratitude.

"You gave up all the gifts I brought you, my love." The dragon stated calmly as he finished. "Why? Don't be silent, sweetheart. I demand you to speak."

Desperately wiping the tears falling again and again with the back of your hand, you nodded. You could not bring youself to open your mouth.

"Why?" He asked one more time, his eyes the same color as the dark sky again. "Why do you want to leave me, my love? Have I not treated you kindly? Have I not given you everything you wanted?"

"I want to see the night sky." You muttered under your breathe, looking at the torn hem of your nightgown. "I want to feel the grass under my feet and listen to the chirping of the crickets."

"You are not my prisoner, sweetheart. I can bring you wherever you want me to."

A whine rebounded from your chest at his words.

"I don't want to be a sacrificial lamb." You sobbed, shaking your head desperately. "I don't want to be a pet. I don't want to ask for permission every time I step outside the cave."

"You are not my pet." The dragon whipped his huge sharp tail with such force it ruined one of the mountains of gold close to it, and you squeezed your eyes shut, terrified of his temper tantrums. "You are the one I've chosen to keep by my side, shield from the dangers of the world and share my treasures with you so you would share yours. Why isn't it enough? What else do I have to do?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line, his claws dangerously close to your body as if he were going to sank them in your sensitive flesh and tear you apart. He would kill you, oh he would, you felt it in your bones. 

"I have nothing to give you, Steve, Sarah's son." You uttered and finally raised your head to meet his darkened gaze. "And I want nothing from you. Why do you want to keep me? You won't profit from it."

His eyes softened at the sight of your flushed face, wet from tears still streaming down your cheeks and chin. You looked so pathetic in front of him in your old nightgown, degraded bloodstains covering once white fabric, yet so beautiful, so lovely it enraged him to think he could lose you despite all his efforts. It bewildered him how fast he had grown used to your calming presence, your smell, your voice. You said you had nothing to give him, but you were so wrong. He wanted you. He wanted to feel you close, see your pretty face, touch your tender body heavy with his child, your breasts full of milk... He wanted you like no other treasure of his. No one but you could give him what he desired the most.

All of a sudden, he jumped at you and covered your trembling shoulders with his callous palms, his hungry mouth devouring yours while you were frozen on the spot. His hot tongue had poked at your lips, and you gave up to him, granting him access and barely recognizing what you were doing. It felt like a shock jolted him, followed by a pleasant tingling, and the dragon slammed his mouth down against yours with a groan.

"You have a lot to give me." He crooned when you were left gasping for air, astounded and confused. "You have something no one but you can grant me, sweetheart."

You gasped once his clawed hands cupped your soft belly through the thin cotton fabric, watching the man panting and looming above you. You realized just how wrong you were, thinking of him as your protector, a knight in shining armor while he was exactly who villagers told you he was - a hungry monster craving for his bride's warm flesh, just in a different way. 

"No, no." You tried pushing him back, and his sharp tail hit the ground loudly, making you shiver. "P-please, I'm only human. I can't do it."

"My mother was human too." Letting out a chuckle, Steve lowered the nightgown on your shoulders while you desperately clenched the fabric in your arm, your other palm on his chest to prevent him from coming closer. "Why are you afraid? I won't harm you. In the end, this is the destiny of all women, isn't it? To become a good wife and mother. Surely, it is better to belong to me rather than any filthy peasant?"

You couldn't keep arguing, knowing your words would fall in deaf ears, and tried breaking free from his grip only to make the dragon more excited as he climbed on top of you, lifting the hem of your nightgown as his hands trailed upward. His palms were burning your thighs when you whimpered, shaking and moving beneath him like a snake. Why was he doing it? Did he force himself on each and every bride of his and got rid of them later once he got bored?

"Please, please let me go." You pleaded, feeling him leaving hot kisses down your neck and shoulders, his lips dry but soft. "Let me leave, I beg of you!"

"Oh you can't leave, sweetheart. You've eaten the dragon fruit, remember?" His toothy smile made you feel sick. "Now you are bound to me."

"Like all of them were?" You yelled in disgust and despair, staring at the dragon's hollowed blue eyes. "Did you truly let them go as you said? Or did you eat them when you no longer loved them?"

Your words made him laugh as he bared your breasts, ripping the fabric apart with his claws but avoiding touching your skin before his hands fully tranformed into human ones. Dragon's enourmous tail layed close to you, its razor-edged tip reminding you Steve could kill you within a few seconds.

Then he stroked your wet cheek with his fingers and cooed softly, his gaze darkening at the sight of your angered face. "None of them deserved to stay, sweetheart. I let them go. I don't know why you insist I eat humans as if I were a lowly beast, but if you're so eager to see me doing it, I will eat you."

Your mouth tasted like copper when you bit on your lip too hard, missing the mischievous look in Steve's bright blue eyes as you flinched from his touch, his tail now pressing you to the cold stony floor. The dragon backed down a bit, and you saw how he hungrily looked at your thighs and belly. He prepared to devour you, tear your flesh apart, and you were to die at his hands for your stubbornness and stupidity. Trembling like a leaf, you shut your eyes, preparing for the end.

Then you winced from a tender touch, Steve caressing your naked mound with his hand lovingly, his eyes watching you intently. What was that? Was he going to sank his teeth into?..

You covered your mouth with your palm as you felt his long wet tongue on your gentle folds. Gods, it would be even more painful than you had ever imagined. This perverted monster wanted to devour your womanhood. But before you could cry out in pain, you suddenly mewled from his pleasurable kitten licks and squirmed, trying to get up to see what the dragon was doing.

"W-wha..."

"I'm sorry, my dear." Steve smirked, raising his head a bit and pressing a shameless kiss to your mound. "But this is how I like to eat cute little girls like you. So, keep this pretty hand away from your mouth and let me show you how good I can make you feel."

_____________

Tags: @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @kawairinrin

[mini-moongi]

My Lover, Love Letter || kth.

Genre: angst, fluff, pining?? unrequited love for a hot sec? EXTRA cheesy 

Summary: Being in love isn’t supposed to hurt so much, but you’d sooner roll over dead than confess to him. Your best friend. After a particularly rough break up, you decide to send Taehyung some additional love via love letters. What you weren’t expecting, however, was a letter back.

A/N: Not entirely proof read, so please excuse any inconsistencies lol

─────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ───────

“I just don’t know,” Taehyung sighs as he grabs his shoes from the company’s designated drawers. His name that’s scribbled onto a label is faded and worn, but he pays no mind as he slips his sneakers on. Frustration eats away at him, silently beckoning him closer. “How did I not see it coming? I’m so stupid like how could I not have seen--”

“--I don’t think anyone would’ve seen it coming.” Your voice lays low, uncertainty and concern bubbling up. “And I know what you’re thinking: No, this isn’t your fault. She cheated on you, and you’re doing the right thing, okay?” 

Taehyung doesn’t look at you like you so desperately wished he would, but what else could you do? What else could you say? “...You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, your best friend who knows that you deserve better. Besides,” you smile,” there’s plenty of other fish in the sea.” and oh how you wish you were a fish.

That night, your mind wandered to Taehyung’s predicament. He’s been your best friend for years and years on end, but along the lines somewhere, you’ve started to feel a little bit more than “just a friend.” It’s an ongoing pain, and you’ve known that for a while now. A breathy sigh escapes your lips as you glance down at your notebook. Minutes go by of you staring at nonsensical scribbles of lyrics and poems, ones you’ve written throughout the day. That’s it. 

The next day you get to the recording studio a bit early, early enough that there’s no one else in sight and no one to see you with a crisp white envelope. Your footsteps echo throughout the empty hallway, and with each passing second, you become uneasier and uneasier. Is this a bad idea? Is it too much? What if he finds out? Will he find out?

You’ve been standing in front of his drawer for the past five minutes contemplating. It stares back at you the same way it did last night, piercing through your soul and convincing you to step closer. If anything, you’re doing this to be a good friend, right? Before you can mull over it any longer, you hear chatter at the end of the hall. You can’t even convince yourself that it’s a horrible idea anymore when you slip the note in and hurry off inside the studio. Minutes later, Namjoon walks in with Jungkook.

“Oh!” Namjoon breaks out into a small smile,” You startled me, y/n. What are you doing here so early?”

The question catches you off guard and has you scrambling for an excuse. “I uh… I couldn’t sleep? I have a lot on my mind, I guess.” You shrug and spin around in an office chair. You didn’t like the fact that you just lied to Namjoon, but it wasn’t necessarily a lie. It just… wasn’t the whole truth. “I got us coffee?”

Jungkook and Namjoon don’t catch on to your jittery attitude, too excited by the fact that you bought them drinks. They mumble out their thank-yous and go off on their way. They’ve been working on Jungkook’s new single, so it’s not that big of a surprise that they’re also here early. It’s the fact that usually you’re never here early, and it irks you every time they look your way.

A heavy pair of footsteps trudge through the hallway, and your breath catches in your throat. This is it, the moment of truth. You hurriedly get up to greet taehyung outside. For a moment you catch yourself; you’re like an overly excited puppy greeting their owner, it isn’t too obvious, right? Nevertheless, Taehyung didn’t seem to mind too much when you said hello. He slips his shoes off and opens the drawer.

He sees the letter.

You watch as his eyebrow quirks up a little and how he gingerly picks it up out of his box. “I didn’t know we get mail in our cubbies now.” He jokes halfheartedly. When he looks at you, you shrug and look as shocked as he is.

“Does it say who it’s from?” You ask aloud. Your heart pounds so loud in your ribcage you wonder if he can hear it too.

Taehyung turns the envelope over to examine the front and back. It’s a simple white envelope with a red heart sticker sealing it shut. “...It doesn’t. Huh,” he ponders,” that’s weird.”

You wander back to your desk, but you can see him holding the letter in his hands out of the corner of your eyes. He follows you, and to be quite honest, you feel like you're going to shit your pants. You’ve never done this before, and rightfully so, but you really wish he wouldn’t try to read it in front of you. He opens it carefully, his fingers slipping between the lid of the envelope and pulling out the letter you wrote. You swallow thickly,”....what does it say?”

He’s silent for a while, eyebrows furrowed and focused on the tiny piece of paper in front of him. His deep voice reads,

“Dear Taehyung,

   I hope this letter finds you well. I’m scared, terrified even, as I write this. I heard that you were going through a rough time, and I thought to myself: it’s now or never, you know? I want you to know that I’m cheering for you! 

  You may not realize it now, but I promise you, good things are waiting for you. It’s not going to be easy, I know from personal experience that love hurts, but it’ll be okay :) I really like you, Kim Taehyung, so please cheer up! Your smile is really cute!! (´,,•ω•,,)♡

Love,

        :) “

As per the singular acting class you took, you widen your eyes and pretend to be shocked. You gasp,” Taehyung, I think that’s a love letter?”

“...yeah?” He nods. Suddenly his throat is very dry, despite being very hydrated seconds ago. A smile crept up onto his lips as he gazes at the handwritten note. “Yeah, I think it is.”

The next couple of times were just small sticky notes all signed with a smiley face; encouraging words to give him some extra love. And it works. He’s happier when he reads them, and you’re happy when you write them. 

The next time you give him a major note is on a whim. Written at 3 in the morning, where loneliness is felt and feelings are emptied out onto a page. You don’t even remember sealing it or sneaking out to slip it into his drawer for him to find. Eventually, the morning sun shines in your eyes, and your alarm is too loud for your liking. Grogginess envelopes you and pushes you out of bed, yelling at you to start your day, but five more minutes couldn’t hurt...

Taehyung’s contact buzzes on your phone, making your device shine brighter than it needs to be at this hour. You squint at the harsh light and unlock it.

Tae: ajsdjsjfdsljds

Tae: there’s another one

You: another what

Tae: Letter!!!!

You immediately sit upright in your bed. Wait, you actually went out last night? You look around frantically, trying to somehow prove to yourself that you didn’t. The jacket laying in the corner of your room taunts you: you did it again.

Hastily, you scramble out of bed. You’re wide awake now, eyes wide and crusty. You rack your brain for an appropriate response because leaving your best friend on read might be a little suspicious.

You: omggg

You: what does it say this time :0

You’re a little nauseous waiting for his response, but you throw on clothes and hope that you didn’t reveal too much about yourself.

Tae: “i miss you. i wish you’d look at me the same way i see you. Like my favorite color, or my favorite sweater, it’s always been you. You’re my favorite, but am i yours?”

Tae: they say other stuff too but that one hit deep yknow

It’s hitting you like an 18-wheeler, and everything you wrote comes back to you in waves. ugh, emo hours are meant to stay in 3 am, not shared with your crush via secret love letter.

You: woah that does hit different

You walk into the studio that day a little bit more paranoid than usual. Taehyung greets you, already starting his day with a smile stuck to his face. It’s softer today, one that comes with a huge sigh and big brain thoughts. You already know he’s going to ask you a question; which kind however is what you dreaded.

“Hey,” he starts off slow and unsure. A beat goes by, and he continues,” is it stupid to fall for my secret admirer?” The question comes out, loud and clear. You feel the wind is knocked out of your stomach, or is it your gut? You stare at Taehyung in shock; he’s in love with you? Well, obviously, he doesn’t know it’s you, but still--

You choke on the water you’re sipping and turn to face him. “You’re in love with.... the writer?” You’re trying really hard not to tremble in surprise, and he buys it.

“Yeah, I just wish I knew who they were..”

“--Woah, hold on,” you’ve officially thrown yourself into the deep end. “What if it’s someone you know? You could be crossing some sort of line here buddy.” You didn’t anticipate Taehyung falling for your love letters, so for him to now start reciprocating was a bit much. You had gotten comfy in the unrequited love section, and to ruin your friendship like this was going to be one hell of a rollercoaster. 

“Ugh,” he grumbles. He drapes himself on an adjacent office chair and twirls around dramatically. “You’re right, but maybe things will change? All I know is that this person is writing me enough love letters to actually be my lover.

“and not to mention the fact that I love handwritten notes? Like come on, y/n,” He gives you a lopsided grin that makes you fall for him a little too much. “You know I’m a sucker for this crap. Whoever this is should just marry me right now. I’m ready to be an old fashioned, romantic poet writing, sonnet sweetheart for you darling!” He calls out to the open air.

You chuckle at this, a prime example of why you love Taehyung. His hair falls a little on the sides of his face as his shoulders shake in laughter. Your face is starting to feel warm, but you pay no attention to it. “Oh yeah, that’s totally gonna get them to reveal themselves.”

The next time you go to deliver him a letter, you find that there is already a sealed envelope in his drawer. Carefully, you pick up the letter with a wax seal holding it closed. To my Lover, it reads on the top left corner in Taehyung’s handwriting. A short barely-there laugh breathes out of your nose, and a smile finds its way to you. Of course he’d do something like this; something so out of the blue and unnecessary, yet so thoughtful and sweet.

You slip in your letter in exchange for his, and gingerly put it in your backpack to read later in the confines of your home. 

[ ---I can’t sleep because I lie awake and think about you, did you know that? You could be anyone: my boss, the intern, the librarian, or even my best friend, and I’d still have no clue. Is our relationship really so fragile that we can’t meet in person? Or maybe, we always do? 

Have you listened to my friend’s new single? It’s called “Still with You.” Please think of me when you hear it. “When will it be when I get to see you face to face? I’ll look you in the eye and say I missed you.”--- ] 

It’s a small excerpt compared to the rest of the letter he’s written for you, but you can feel your heart beat faster in your chest. You find that your hands have already started writing a response. 

A month goes by since you’ve started exchanging letters with Taehyung in secret, but today shit hits the fan. “y/n?”

You’re in your kitchen fixing up some snacks for movie night when Taehyung calls out to you. “yeah?” you respond.

“Why do you have this?” He comes around the corner, holding up a letter that was once sealed with a wax stamp. You freeze. 

“--Why the fuck do you have all of my letters?” At this point he’s face to face with you, a pain etched into the soft features that silently cry out. You’re silent, the pop tarts in the toaster long forgotten.

Your eyes paint him like a movie; a film that you’d never get to see again. Everything is blurry except for the old letter and tears that fall to the ground. Love hurts, but never this much before. You clutch your chest— lungs aching for the sweet relief of fresh air. “Taehyung, I didn’t... It’s not—“

“Is this some kind of sick, twisted joke to you?” His voice reverberates in the kitchen. Dark, deep, bitter, like the coffee you used to drink. “I don’t need you to play pretend anymore; you can drop the act. I don’t want empty love letters filled with shit if it’s all fake anyways.”

Those words cling to you and rip through old scars. He’s leaving you with open wounds, bleeding out painfully slow. It’s not shit, it’s your feelings. You poured your heart into that! If any song could play right now, it’d be,” All I Ask by Adele.”

“...what?” He stops in the doorway, having heard a faint whisper fall from your lips. Had it been a nasty remark, he was ready to spit one back at you. But it wasn’t. He didn’t catch what you said, but he knows it wasn’t an insult.

You couldn’t have with the way you’re clutching the empty pop tart wrapper for dear life, looking so empty and lost and alone on the tile floor. An empty shell: nothing more than a vessel staring at him, soaking in his every detail as if it’s the last time you two will meet. Hurt and betrayal replays in his head, so no matter how much he wants to stay, Taehyung steps out the door.

You couldn’t bring yourself to write letters for a while. You wished so desperately to tell him that the letters were genuine: you loved him. You still do. There are so many things you want to say, but none of the poems or essays you’ve written were strung together correctly. They just didn’t convey your feelings the way you want them to: the pain, the regret, the love, it wasn’t good enough.

After many sleepless nights and a few phone call confessions with Namjoon, your last letter was written. The cute stationary you’d use reminded you of every other letter, but this will be the last one. Promise.

[—“if this is my last night with you, hold me like I’m more than just a friend... because what if I never love again?”—]

[—All I Ask by Adele played in my head when you left, like a soundtrack in a movie. Everything I’ve written to you is true; please forgive me for falling in love with my best friend.—]

That night it rained. How fitting, you think to yourself. The weight from the grocery bags pile softly to the floor, the annoying crinkle rustling from the plastic. You peel the wet jacket off of your shoulders, hanging them up to dry while you put away the food. Thunder rolls in from the distance, pellets of rain tapping on your window. You don’t bother with music or tv, the silence thick and heavy as you busy yourself in the kitchen.

A knock sweeps you out of the dull lullaby of chores and rain. You move to open your door, and the next thing you know, a pair of arms embrace your still figure. All at once the sweet scent of cologne and honey clouds your senses, a familiar sedation too powerful alone. He holds you closer to his body. The physical touch makes you crave more, leaning in to relish in as much of it as you can.

He releases his hold a little, much to your dismay, and your eyes catch his restless ones. They flutter shut, and Taehyung’s forehead touches yours. His hot breath tickles your lips, shaky but inviting all the while. “...I missed you, so much.”

Is this what it feels like to be held like a lover? Embraced so tenderly and gently, fingertips tracing along your jawline. He pours his love onto you like the rain outside, and the kiss he gives sparks like a strike of lightning.

You wonder how you could’ve been content with unrequited love when this was on the other end? Seeking mutual forgiveness, making up for guilt with praises and promises? You know from personal experience that love hurts, but now, you’re ready to learn how love heals.

─────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ───────

A/N: This originally was supposed to have a sad ending but I couldn’t bring myself to...... I had to be cliché, it’s my drug 😔mayhaps I’ll make an angst fic someday,,

[themadauthorshatter]

SOOOOOOO, I have seen a lot of Henry Stickmin AU'S, and while this one already exists, I feel like it doesn't get enough love, damn it!

While I'm a fan of Toppat!Henry, I propose to you all MY take on TOPPAT!CHARLES! (Even though I made headcanons for Insane!Charles a while back😅) I will also be following the headcanon that Henry is a selective mute and signs more than he talks, though I will add that he makes sounds when he needs to communicate with someone who can't sign, sounds like "Tss! Tss!" or similar hisses, shushing, clicking, coughing, and other sounds of the nature.

I'll be adding some dialogue here and there to add more to the scenes and to put more context into the story.

With that out of the way,

THE STORY:

For context, this would take place if Triple Threat became a thing before the Toppat clan went into orbit. Reginald Copperbottom would be arrested, the airship taken down, and Right Hand Man fixed up with his cybernetics with either Sven or Burt as his second in command.

With guidance from Charles outside, Henry and Ellie try to kill two birds with one stone: stop the launch and arrest the clan.

It goes well in the beginning, until Henry and Ellie run past a window and give a signal that they're okay right as two toppats sneak up behind them.

"Guys, watch out! There's-"

Before he can warn them, he's either shot down or pulled down by Right, Henry and Ellie being apprehended and fighting the two toppats as they watch the helicopter falls to the ground. Ellie is surprised and terrified, but Henry has a stronger reaction, falling to shocked silence before being more desperate to fight off the toppats.

"Henry! HENRY! SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Though they knock out both toppats, cracking one of the windows in the the process, Henry continues to punch the one that jumped him, only stopping when Ellie pulls him off and tells him that Charles might still be alive, due to the static and talking through the ear pieces, and that they might be able to still at least arrest the Right Hand Man.

Henry gestures for her to stop the rocket before taking one of the toppat's weapons to break the window and runs off to find Charles, which is easy to do since there's a smoke column from the crash.

Jump to Charles, a few minutes back in time to around the same time Ellie and Henry are fighting off the toppats.

Despite being a little disoriented from crashing, Charles gets out of the helicopter and tries to call for Henry and Ellie on his head set, only to feel the barrel of a gun against the back of his head.

"I wouldn't do that, if I was you, kid."

Charles holds up his hands before curb stomping his foot- or trying to- and whhels around to punch him.

Right catches his hand mid swing and throws him on his back to the ground, similar to how Right threw Henry in the Free Man ending of CtM, and makes Charles even more disoriented.

Right gets cocky and gloats, which, honestly, I don't blame him for because he just plucked a helicopter from the sky.

"You're a brave one, kid. C'mon. Let's see whatcher' made of."

Charles rolls to his stomach and tries to get up, but this is a diversion to try to hide that he's trying to call for backup, more specifically Henry because he heard the "conversation" between Ellie and Henry, though he'll take any help he can get. (Note here, I do not know how military personnel ask for help, so bear with me)

"R-Requesting back... backup. Man... Man down. I'm injured. Send. HELP."

Right notices him staying on his hands and knees and taking a little too long, and realizes what he's doing.

"You sneaky little RAT!"

Right kicks Charles in the face and throws his headphones away before stomping on his back.

Jump back to Henry, who has been running before he finds a jeep or motorcycle and drives that to fund Charles, having heard his call for backup before Right destroyed his headphones.

He also hears from Galeforce, who informs him that Ellie has been critically injured trying to stop the launch, having taken a bullet to the rib (as in the bullet itself is lodged IN her rib, a very lucky shot that could have killed her), and, due to the increase in casualties and people getting injured, he is calling for a retreat as the mission has failed.

With a hoarse, frustrated cry, Henry flings out the ear piece and speeds up whatever vehicle he's driving. At this point, he's about to break because the mission was going well, but it's crashed and burned, so his thought process here is, 'I failed the mission, but I won't fail Charles.'

Back to Charles, who is trying to fight off Right, but is severely outmatched due to having no augmentations, having been crashed in a helicopter, and having several injuries. Whatever hit he throws, Right blocks it and pushes him back. He then gets a call from Burt, or anyone on the intercom system, and Charles overhears.

"Hey, chief? We're about to launch soon. What's taking you so long?"

"Don't worry about it," Right replies as he watches Charles barely cling to consciousness and try to get back up. "Just leave a hatch open for me as long as you can."

Tired, injured and determined to stop Right, at the very least, Charles screams as he rushes toward Right and throws his hardest punch into the human half of Right's face, actually throwing the cyborg off guard. Right catches him as he starts to fall again, Charles proud at the punch he threw, and picks him up by his hair.

"You've got some guts, I'll give you that, but not enough brains to go with it."

Charles only gives a grimace as he reaches behind him and pulls out the gun Right threatened to shoot him with.

"How's this for brains?" He asks with a smirk.

Before he can pull the trigger, Right slaps the gun away with his cybernetic hand and breaks Charles's wrist before smashing him into the ground and stomping on his head. He then stands and turns Charles onto his back with his foot, noting that he's a hair's length away from unconsciousness and, more importantly, that he's a part of the government, WITH HENRY.

Speak of the devil, Henry somewhat crashes the vehicle he's in and rushes over to Charles, only to see Right standing over him.

"DON'T YOU DARE!"

Henry pulls out a gun, but Right gives him a look that says, 'bitch, really?' before turning to look at the sky, the announcement from the rocket blaring, "Launch in t-minus 10 minutes."

"You remember Reg?" Right inquires. "The clan's last leader? The guy you arrested?"

Henry looks down at Charles, who smiles at him with bloody teeth and tears in his eyes.

Right puts his foot down on Charles's neck, pressing down only enough to cause irritation.

"I really liked Reg. Yeah, he was loud and annoying sometimes, but the guy knew what he was doing."

He looks over to see Henry turn his head in suspicion, noting his eyes darting between him and Charles as Right presses his foot down more.

"Better than the last leader, I mean. I cared about him. He knew how to take care of the clan. Got it back on its feet. And you took 'im away, even when he offered you the entire clan."

"Sh-shoot him, Henry!"

Right and Henry both look down to see Charles trying to push Right's shoe off his neck with his good hand, which causes the latter the run forward.

"Don't." Right's cybernetic hand transforms into a sword and he points it directly at Charles's forehead, snipping off a little bit of his hair.

Henry stops dead in his tracks and points the gun again, Right pressing his foot down harder and causing Charles to cough.

Henry shots, but misses because of that shield Right used in the bounty hunter ending, and, because he's stressed and his voice his heavily strained, lets out a, "TSS!"

Right eyes Charles and kneels down, putting mire weight on Charles and also increasing the chance that Henry misses him, with how close he is to his friend (we all know how bad of a shot Henry is). "Yeah. Reg wasn't exactly the smartest guy, either." He transforms the sword back into his hand and tousles Charles's hair as he kicks against the ground. "But at least he knew what mattered more."

Right then removes his shoe and grabs Charles's neck with his non-cybernetic hand and stands up, lifting Charles off the ground, the pilot hardly reacting as he dangles.

Henry lowers his gun slightly, which makes Right smiek at him, cybernetic arm turning back into a sword.

"Launch in t-minus 6 minutes."

"What means more to you, Henry?" Right asks as he tightens his grip on Charles ever so slightly. "The rocket's launching soon, I'm still a free man, and I've got your friend. What're you gonna do?"

Henry points his gun again, shaking, trying to keep a brave face, but with how downhill everything's gone the 'tough, quiet guy' mask drops as he looks from Right, to Charles, and then to the rocket before turning back to Right.

Charles tilts his head to his friend, extremely out of it from the crash, getting the snot kicked out of him, and the amount of pain he's in and adrenaline wearing off in his body. "Henry..."

Right tightens his grip more. "What'll it be, Henry?" He asks.

"Launch in t-minus 3 minutes."

"What'll it be?" Right asks once more. "It's me, the rocket, or your friend!"

Charles makes a very weak gesture to Henry, a finger gun pointing to Right. 'Do it. Shoot him.'

Henry's eyes reach Right, who glares at him as he raises his sword arm.

Again, Henry is a TERRIBLE shot and is hopeless as he sees his friend drift into unconsciousness, knows Ellie is injured because he left her alone, and essentially ruined the mission. With a that running through his mind, Henry's arms lower until he drops the gun, taking very shaky steps toward Right as he raises his trembling hands and does simple gestures for Right to speak to him: he points to Right, then to Charles, the cradles and hands and he crouches and points to the ground.

'Let Charles safely down.'

"Launch in 10... 9..."

"So that's how much he means to you."

"8... 7... 6..."

Henry repeats the gesture and claps his hands together, palms and fingers touching.

"5..."

Right's glare deepens. "You took Reg from me."

"4..."

Henry shakes his head and laces his fingers together as he throws himself forward.

"3..."

Right's feet because the mini rocket we see in different endings. "Hope you don't mind, Henry..."

"2..."

"I'll give him back when I'm done borrowing him for a bit!"

"1..."

Right shoots into the air as Henry runs to grab him, barely holding on for a few seconds begore slipping and falling back down.

Charles is thrown onto Right's shoulder anddimly watches as he's flown away from Henry, reaching out for him before finally losing consciousness.

Henry has been reaching back, but drops him arm when he see the two board the rocket.

"Charles..."

The rocket raises higher into the sky, even further from Henry's reach.

He staggers forward for a second before falling to his knees.

"CHAAAAAAAARRRRRRRLLLEESS!"

Henry breaks down as a squad comes his way, having taken so long because they were being attacked by toppats and most of the soldiers were either injured or killed in the crossfire.

They can't get an answer out of him, as all he can do is scream and cry, but are able to get two things out of his unintelligible wailing: "It was me." and "Charles."

It doesn't take long for Henry to pass out and be carried back to the base, the soldiers putting him in a bed next to Ellie.

YEP! This took me forever, but I feel like it's a pretty strong beginning.

What do you guys think? Is this too much or should I keep going with this?

Either way, I hope you enjoyed and

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃💀👻

[somedayonbroadway]

Hmmmmm. Tangled The Series Henris AU? I love that series.

Okay, this show was so interesting and Henry’s is a really intriguing ship and I’m finding that I actually like it more and more. I do have to be honest, I don’t think I actually watched every episode of this show. I think I missed a lot. I need to watch the whole thing.

So for this outline I will be using a lot of the characters that I typically put more in the background. This will be interesting.

So….

Tangled: The Series AU

Characters

Henry — Rapunzel

Morris Delancey — Eugene Fitzherbert

Mush — Cassandra

JoJo— Varian

Oscar Delancey— Lance Strongbow

Mike and Ike — Angry and Red

Specs — Maximus (but human)

Snyder — Mother Gothel

Seitz and Bunsen — The Stabbington Brothers

Bryan Denton — Captain of the Royal Guards

Jack Kelly — Hook Hand

Crutchie Morris — Hook Foot

Henry (Rapunzel)

Henry had always been special. Ever since the day he was born.

He wasn’t the only one who’d known that.

On the night after his birth, he is stolen, taken far away and held captive (unknowingly) by a greedy man who wants to have the power Henry was born with for himself in order to keep himself young and live forever.

For the first eighteen years of his life, Henry is unaware of this and believes this man to be his father, growing to trust and respect him.

But Henry had always had a dream to go outside and see the world, though he was never aware.

He has a dream to see the floating lights that always appear on his birthday.

When one day a thief breaks into his tower, mean to him at first, Henry takes his chance and gets out, going on an adventure that changes his life forever.

Along the way, he falls in love.

Now, he’s back with his family, at home at the castle, suddenly a prince who has no idea what he’s doing.

Forced to adjust to this new life, Henry tries to learn everything he needs to know. Taught for the most part by his trusted Valet, Mush, adopted son of the captain of the royal guard.

Mush and Henry are fast friends, pulling together after Mush finds Henry crying alone in his room, overwhelmed and terrified that he was going to screw up somehow.

Henry’s parents adore him, despite not knowing him for the first eighteen years of his life. He loves them just the same, but is hurt when his father placed restrictions on his freedoms.

See, in order to learn about the kingdom, Henry loved to ride through it and see every bit of it as often as he could.

He and Morris, the thief who’d stolen his heart and then kept it close, would go on nightly rides with Mush following them close behind

Henry’s father says it’s too dangerous.

That same night, the rehearsal for Henry’s coronation is scheduled and Henry is already on edge, feeling as though the walls were closing in on him.

Being locked in a tower for eighteen years seemed to make him a bit restless and a bit claustrophobic

When Morris proposes to him that night, the stress of everything and the thought of never leaving the castle again gets to him and he declines, running off to his room and trying to figure out what to do.

Mush suggests they run away that night.

Henry and him sneak out into the kingdom, actually leaving the walls of Manhattan altogether and stumbling across some mysterious rocks that Henry just seems to be drawn to.

Despite Mush’s insistence not to touch the rocks, Henry does anyway, unable to stop himself

While his hair does not grow back, his powers do, but this time it’s energy sources from his hands.

Mush rushes Henry back to the castle and helps him hide away, not wanting anyone to know.

It’s painful for Henry to keep such a secret from Morris, but he does for a while, not wanting anyone to know he’d snuck out.

Nightmares haunt Henry’s dreams after this happens, making him fear that bad things are coming to Manhattan

While Henry doesn’t necessarily have all of his healing powers back, he finds he can create force fields around him and those close to him to protect them from harm.

With the help of a young Alchemist named JoJo, Henry and Mush set out to find out just what the rocks did to him.

After confessing how his powers returned to his boyfriend, Henry explains to Morris why he couldn’t accept his proposal

The two remain in a relationship, getting married years later after all of the chaos is placed far behind them

Morris Delancey (Eugene Fitzherbert)

Growing up an orphan with only one brother, Morris learns how to be a thief out of necessity, finding that it came naturally to him

He is not necessarily a people person, but always did try, as the oldest of the orphanage he grew up in, to keep the littler kids entertained and hopeful and happy

He loved to read stories of a devilish, daring adventurer by the name of Flynn Rider

After aging out of the orphanage, he adopts the name until he nearly drowns and confesses to a certain magical boy with long brown hair that he’d tried to become a fictional character who had everything because it was better than being an orphaned kid with nothing

While parading around as the mysterious Flynn Rider, Morris begins to get more and more daring, eventually working up the courage to trick to other thieves into helping him steal the crown of the lost prince of Manhattan

After getting chased by the royal guards through a deep forest, Morris stumbles across what looks to be an abandoned tower, changing his life forever.

He meets the boy who would become the love of his life there, sending them both out on an adventure where Morris realizes that he wants to be able to turn his life around

After being arrested, escaping, dying and coming back to life, Morris is ready to turn over a new leaf, after being pardoned for seeing to the safe return of the lost prince

Morris is unaware of his parents origins for a long time, believing them to be explorers who he’d hoped were one day going to come back for him growing up

Even when they don’t, he still has hope.

It is eventually revealed that Morris and his brother were both sons of a king and queen who had to evacuate their kingdom and separate themselves from them when a threat awaits to plague and destroy their entire kingdom

The kingdom became known as The Dark Kingdom and was eventually reduced to ruin, the king and queen barely managing to escape

The queen died a few years later, but the king continued on, searching for his lost sons

Morris eventually reconnects with both his little brother and his father who he is stunned to see after so many years.

After returning Henry to his family and castle, he is relieved to know that the boy he’d fallen for still wants him around, even as he’s moving up in the world

Realizing that his heart no longer belonged to him, Morris gets ready to propose, fearing rejection all the way

When he does get rejected, he doesn’t know how to react.

Morris and Mush never really get along too well, constantly at odds with each other, though they both truly do want what’s best for Henry in the end

After not being able to see or talk to Henry for days, at Mush’s insistence, Morris climbs up the side of the tower to see him, shocked to find that his powers are somewhat back and he has no idea how

Despite finding out this secret, Morris is still left behind when Mush takes Henry to find some more help

Hurt by this, Morris follows along anyways, meeting a young boy by the name of JoJo who claims to be his biggest fan

Morris grows to like JoJo for a while, though is constantly suspicious of him, knowing that, despite his sunny disposition, a kid like him, who never had much, would do nearly anything when he got desperate

Overall, Morris does his best to constantly prove to Henry how much he loves him and how far he was willing to go to make him happy.

Mush (Cassandra)

Mush is a royal visor for Prince Henry

Adopted at a young age by the captain of the royal guard, Mush is very skilled fighter and spy, having been in training nearly his whole life

After the lost prince returns to the castle, Mush, who wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps as a royal guard, is assigned as his royal visor.

Mostly, Mush is placed in the position to provide a certain protection for Henry as the king fears someone will still be out to harm his son

Despite his insistence that he’d be more useful continuing to train to become a royal guard, Mush ends up taking a liking to Henry and actually ends up being able to call the other boy his best friend

After sneaking Henry out of the castle one night to try and cheer the boy up, he ends up accidentally getting the boy’s powers back

Now feeling responsible for this, Mush tries to hide Henry away and figure out what happened for himself

Mush ends up crossing paths with a young Alchemist named JoJo who offers to help as the word no is not in his vocabulary

While knowing that JoJo has a small crush on him, Mush views JoJo as nothing more than a kid and, while he does protect the boy, constantly pushes him away

Mush eventually ends up becoming a sort of protector to Henry and anyone Henry unofficially adopts into his family

Mush believes that Henry can do better than some former thief from nowhere, but puts up with Morris as much as necessary because he doesn’t want to upset Henry

He grew up a bit of a loner, not having friends and not really caring to have any

Growing up surrounded by a lot of older guys who constantly made fun of him and teased him, Mush grew to become very competitive

Mush slowly opens himself up to have friends after he meets Henry and ends up liking JoJo and a few others, though he is still very cautious and wary around everybody, especially when it comes to his feelings and his past

Eventually learning that his own father abandoned him after kidnapping Henry and showing the other boy more love and affection than the man had ever shown him, Mush becomes enraged, blaming Henry for all of the misfortune life had thrown at him

After more reminders are set in place to show him how he was constantly placed in tough spots, having to turn down opportunities for Henry, and constantly being stuck in his shadow, Mush finally has enough and, while out on a quest, picks up the all powerful moonstone, making himself the moon to Henry’s sun

This event leads Mush to be Henry’s worst enemy, vowing to destroy the kingdom and everyone who’d ever wronged him

Eventually, he kidnaps JoJo, who he forces to help him, he nearly kills Morris, who he claims he always hated, despite their insistence to get along for Henry, and he nearly lets monsters destroy all of Manhattan

JoJo De La Guerra (Varian)

A teenage Alchemist who does not believe in magic.

JoJo is very smart and is always willing to lend a helping hand, desperate to be needed and wanted and useful

He is the only son of the unofficial leader of Old Manhattan, a small town with old fashioned utilities and traditions

Despite his love for science and his genius mind, he often finds that his inventions get him into trouble as he has difficulty thinking things through

When the prince comes asking for his help, JoJo is more than willing to lend a helping hand, adoring the prince and developing a small crush on Mush

After meeting Morris, it is revealed that JoJo believed him to be the real life Flynn Rider

JoJo grew up poor, having nearly starved on more than one occasion and only having his father to provide for him and the rest of the town on a regular basis

The tales of Flynnagin Rider were a sort of escape for him and he grew to convince himself that these stories were real.

Morris tries to tell him that he was just a petty thief but JoJo doesn’t listen, still looking up to him a lot

However, after trusting Morris with a dangerous secret that Morris ends up spilling in order to save lives, he sobers and sees Morris as a normal person, though he still does look up to him

JoJo’s town is soon threatened by the mysterious black rocks that seem to be after Henry

After pleading at the castle for help and getting nowhere, JoJo feels betrayed and goes to try and destroy the black rocks on his own

An experiment gone horribly wrong entraps his father in Amber and, while at first blaming himself, JoJo makes a promise to himself that he’ll make the kingdom of Manhattan pay for taking away the only thing he had

This leads JoJo on an adventure that changes his entire demeanor, making him go dark

He goes back to the kingdom, stating that he’s forgiven the prince and enlists Henry’s help in finding something that will free his father

Henry goes, believing that JoJo has genuinely forgiven him for not helping him before but it’s quick that JoJo turns on him the second he has what he needs.

After he gets the flower that had been the original source of Henry’s power, he finds he needs Henry himself to free his father and kidnaps the prince and Morris, threatening to encase Morris in the chemical if Henry refuses to help him

After this fails, JoJo is arrested and treated as a criminal

Heartbroken and terrified, JoJo tries to beg for genuine forgiveness, trying to convey how scared he is before he is recruited by a group of bandits and ends up the brains behind a gang trying to tear down Manhattan from the inside out

After learning that Henry had never stopped trying to help him or his father, JoJo eventually turns on the gang and rejoins the quest to find out how to stop the impending threat on Manhattan

I know this ones short, but again, I have only seen bits and pieces of the show.

Let me know if there are any scenes you’d like to see from this one!

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

[erandir]

Fic: Stronger Together (Herald Tainan AU)

How many AUs is too many AUs?

Here’s one where Tainan gets the Anchor and becomes the Herald of Andraste. And Idhren is also there.

Part 1/?

----

Idhren was still asleep when Tainan woke and crawled out of their tent, as was usually the case. They had set up camp on a rise overlooking the village, wary of getting too close to the settlement when it was crawling with Chantry folk and templars. But their location still had a fair view of activity going on at the Chantry and the road leading up the mountain.

The sun was only just rising over the mountains, so there was little activity in the village now. To Tainan, all the people looked to be milling about with no purpose, but Idhren had a way of reading the behaviors of city folk. Knowing Idhren, though, he’d probably sleep some hours more. Which made this a good time for Tainan to try and get a lay of the land. Just head up the mountain a little ways before it was crawling with shemlen, maybe find a good place to sit and wait for news.

Just an hour or so, and be back before Idhren woke.

----------

The cold woke Idhren. Sneaking in through the gaps in the tent and the folds of the blanket. And there was no warm body beside him on the bedroll to compensate. Which meant it was morning, and Tainan was already up and about. 

Reluctantly, Idhren sat up and poked his head outside the tent. But Tainan was not there. Only the cold embers of their fire from the night before. “Tainan?” Idhren called out. No reply. Maybe Tainan had gone to find something fresh for breakfast. He pulled on his boots and cloak and climbed out of the tent.

He’d only just begun stoking the fire back to life when a chill ran up his spine that wasn’t from the weather.

He felt the explosion before he heard or saw it.

The Veil pulled taught. Snapped like threadbare fabric under too much strain. 

A roar from the mountaintop felt in his bones. A sensation crashed over him like a tidal wave, setting every hair on his body on end.

The Veil ripped open and the sky along with it, bathing the mountaintop in sickly green shadow.

He could taste the Fade in the back of his throat. Acrid and metallic. 

Then he saw the footprints in the snow leading from their campsite up the mountain.

----------

Idhren didn’t see them pull the lone survivor out of the temple ruins. He’d been preoccupied with a demon that fell out of the sky, and trying to make sense of what was going on. And praying that Tainan hadn’t been anywhere close to that temple. 

But the rumors reached him eventually as he searched, frantic and increasingly desperate. Only one survivor, a figure who had fallen out of the Fade after the explosion. A Dalish elf with red hair.

In hindsight, walking up to the templar guards outside the Chantry and demanding to see their prisoner was not Idhren’s brightest moment. But he was terrified, and distraught, and it was so hard to think clearly with the Fade all around like a soup that made it hard to breathe. 

Perhaps they wouldn’t have seen him as a threat if he’d been coherent. Or maybe he’d simply said too much - let slip his Tevinter origin. Or maybe they were just looking for anyone to blame for this disaster and there he was, a foreign mage that nobody would miss.

The templar’s silence pulled the magic from his veins and the breath from his lungs. Idhren wavered on his feet, but still managed to swing out with his staff - a weak show of resistance that was easily thwarted. Then they had him by the arms. “No!”  Each templar a full head taller than him Idhren’s struggles were useless, but he struggled nonetheless. “I didn’t do anything! We didn’t do anything!”

They dragged him down below the Chantry hall, into dungeons that had no business being in a church. He caught a glimpse of Tainan then. A shock of red hair against the stone floor. “Tainan!” Idhren’s struggles redoubled. “Let me go! Tai -” something caught him on the back of the head and the world went dark.

----------

The last thing Tainan remembered was walking into the temple. And then waking up in a dungeon. There was some glowing thing on his hand. It hurt, and the frightening templar woman said it had something to do with the explosion.

Where was Idhren? Idhren would know what this was. Idhren would know what was happening.

But frightened and confused as they were, Tainan didn’t dare mention Idhren’s name as they were dragged up the mountainside. The shemlen thought Tainan had caused this. Tainan who wasn’t even a mage. What would they do with Idhren - a Tevinter-trained Dalish mage - if they got their hands on him?

And there was hardly a moment to spare thinking of Idhren. Not with demons raining from whatever that thing was in the sky, and whatever this thing was on his hand. It was all Tainan could do just to try and stay alive, and argue their own innocence. An argument that fell on deaf ears.

The temple was a horrific sight. Unlike anything Tainan had ever seen. Unlike anything they could have imagined. It was like walking in a nightmare.

This thing on their hand hurt more with each passing minute. Ached so much it was difficult to hold onto their bow. But that pain was nothing compared to the scorching, tearing, stabbing that radiated up from their palm when Tainan raised that mark to close the hole in the sky. 

----------

The next time Tainan woke they were not in shackles, and the people in the village stared at them in awe and reverence. Tainan didn’t understand the name they’d been given, but that didn’t matter right now. They needed to find Idhren.

“I need to find my betrothed. He wasn’t in the temple with me, he must be in the village somewhere.” Lying low, probably, until he knew it was safe. He was afraid of templars, after all. “He’s a mage, he can help.”

Across the table Cassandra and Leliana shared a glance that made Tainan uncomfortable. 

“Have you seen him?”

“Your betrothed,” Leliana spoke in a calculated gentle tone. “He is Dalish like you? Slight? With dark hair and purple eyes?”

A feeling of dread settled like a rock in Tainan’s gut. “Where is he?”

“I will show you.”

She led Tainan through the Chantry hall and down into a dark basement level that Tainan vaguely recalled being dragged through the last time they woke up after a blackout. That feeling of dread in Tainan’s stomach grew stronger the further they walked, until they stepped into a room lined with barred cells.

Even in the dim light Tainan spotted him right away. Only one cell was occupied. A small figure huddled into a ball and pressed into the back corner. As far from the templar stationed at the door as possible.

“Idhren!” Tainan pushed past Leliana, racing across the room to the cell door. Of course it was locked. “Get him out of there,” they demanded, tugging ineffectually at the bars until the lock was undone and the door swung free. “Idhren. Idhren.” Tainan’s knees collided hard with the stone floor beside Idhren’s huddled form.

Slowly, hesitantly, Idhren’s head raised. Those big violet eyes stared up at him with that same broken expression as the night they first met. “Tai?” he asked, voice faint and uncertain.

“I’m here, city boy. You’re safe now.”

“Tai.” This time the name came out a sob. Idhren’s body unfolded. Arms reached out and latched around Tainan’s neck. 

Tainan clutched him back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” As Idhren trembled in their arms, Tainan turned a furious glare in Leliana’s direction. She at least had the decency to look contrite. “What did you do to him?”

“He showed up shortly after we brought you back from the temple. We thought he might have something to do with the Breach. He’s been under templar guard since. I’m sorry.”

Locked up and cut off from his magic for days. No wonder Idhren was in such a state. 

Tainan slipped one arm under Idhren’s legs and pushed to their feet. Idhren barely shifted in their arms as Tainan carried him out of the cell. The Breach and everything else could wait, first they had to make sure Idhren was alright. That was more important.

[fandom-collective-writers]

The Perfect Gift (Sirius x Reader)

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Prompt: “You make me happy” with Ikerev Sirius for anon

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2195

Written by: @dangerousfe-l​

It’s a trap.

You should know the moment the street vendor smiles at you, the moment he makes his offer -- but, carelessly, you don’t.

Sirius’s birthday falls almost exactly a year after the war between the red and black armies had ceased, but that doesn’t mean the event is any less prominent in anyone’s minds. If anything, the timing has everyone more on edge than needed.

Still, you try your best to take the focus off of what you hope is in the past. For yourself, if not at least for everyone else, because you know full well how the reprise of emotional events can damage the army’s heart.

Or, more specifically, Sirius.

But thankfully, things are better now in terms of almost everything: him and Lancelot are on speaking terms again, the threat of war looming over is long gone, and you -- you are finally home safe. He had taken the magic tower’s advances on you the hardest, that’s no secret, and he was second to you in being glad everything was over.

That’s why you want to make his birthday an even bigger deal, truthfully, because it’s a good break for not only the man in question, but for everyone feeling the effects of the other upcoming anniversary as well.

And somehow, that’s ruined by your single, very simple and very wrong decision.

You have been warned constantly since then, even after multiple months, to never let your guard down now that you reside permanently in Cradle. But the young man that runs the small booth that day seems anything but harmful, especially when he happens to be selling what you think is the perfect final touch to anyone’s birthday: a gift.

What to get for a person that is so hard to disappoint yet simultaneously so hard to get a reaction out of; it’s a question you had been asking yourself for weeks. Then, almost as if fate had crafted it herself, a gift that neatly fits every aspect of your head’s image is sitting right in front of you. And only hours before the day in question, no less.

“You can have it.” The vendor muses once he notices you eyeing it, giving you a smile so pleasant that you don’t even think of the need to read into it. “But I’m afraid it’s only a display piece for now. If you’d like to buy it, you’ll have to come back later tonight after a new shipment comes in.”

You ponder for a few moments, but ultimately see no harm in the offer, so you agree to come back at the time he suggests.

The young man smiles at your confirmation, his head sinking into a low and apologetic bow. “I’m sorry for your trouble, miss. Thank you.”

Smiling politely, you make your way back to where Sirius had told you to wait for him in the central quarter’s community gardens. Thankfully, he isn’t finished his task either, still running around in a nearby shop and completely clueless that you were even away in the first place.

It’s usually painfully hard to get something past your boyfriend, that’s why when you sneak a glance at Sirius’s completely unaware expression on your way back to the black territory later, you’re happy as can be.

You’re surprised that he hasn’t even caught onto the extra details at the headquarters, with you being gone for hours at a time, or Luka cutting down on training slightly more than usual to sneakily prepare for an inevitable birthday dinner. Sometimes you think he’s pretending not to notice on purpose, but you’re far too excited to dive into the theory very much.

Because with everyone else behind you, you’re sure that your surprise will be a success no matter what Sirius suspects.

You spend what’s left of the daylight helping around headquarters, though you’re unable to keep the smile off your face. It’s not that you aren’t unafraid of seeming suspicious to any onlooker, just more that you physically can’t stop smiling. But you don’t mind as much.

After all, people almost expect that of you now, so you know it’s not as big of a deal as you think it is. Yet, there’s still one person who, of course, notices your minimal changes eventually and thinks to question them.

At the end of the day, you’re wrapping up your to-do list by hanging last minute laundry by the light of the setting sun. You’re almost sure that everyone else is off doing something else, whether it’s preparing for dinner or polishing off their share of the day’s tasks, you have every reason to believe you’re off everyone’s minds indefinitely.

But that is clearly not that case when you feel a pair of long arms sneak around your waist, pulling you closer just as you manage to clip the last sheet to the line.

“You seem awfully happy today, little lady.”

The gentle words that are murmured over your head send a bubbling feeling through your chest, and you lean into Sirius’s touch with a small contented sigh.

“I am happy today.” You say, gripping his hands where they fold over your stomach. “I’ve been thinking about how nice it is to finally be where I am.”

You can almost feel him smiling at your answer, the surrounding atmosphere practically lifting with your moods conjoined. It’s telling how he sways with you in his arms that he’s happy too, and you love it. It’s the lightest you’ve felt in a while, and though you aren’t too keen on letting it go, a voice calls you out of your personal paradise like the drop of a pin.

“Sirius, we need you at the table!”

The table is a term that’s usually used in regarding the strategy table in Ray’s office, the very one littered with the maps and chess pieces that you’d discussed war over not even a year ago. Some of the younger recruits had picked up the term and it has since transformed into a type of slang among the members of the army, but it still isn’t something you expected to hear anytime soon.

Sirius’s arms slip hesitantly from your waist as he goes without question, giving your hands a small squeeze before he follows the young soldier who is already leading him away.

You turn and watch their backs as they fade out of view, and you can’t help but purse your lips, your smile finally dropping. It’s a gamble, even beginning to think over the possible reasons they could have called Sirius away, and you know that. You know that, but you still do it anyway.

Memories of your first month in Cradle resurface with your worries: the terrifying realisation that you were stuck there, the feeling of swords clashing by your ear and injuries being sustained because of a power you never asked for -- the war, ultimately. The war that made you into the person you are now, and the very thing you would never like to visit again.

You hope desperately that whatever’s going on now, it’s miniscule.

Sighing to yourself, you quietly slouch down as your eyes linger on the setting sun. An idea then pops up in your head -- something that would surely serve as an adequate distraction while still being productive enough that you wouldn’t feel bad about giving into it. It’s slightly risky, but noting the finality of your last task of the day in the form of laundry rippling in the wind from the corner of your eye, you opt to take your chances.

The vendor certainly won’t mind you being a bit early, will he?

You take the early stages of the night under your belt and use them to slip away unnoticed, only coming to a halt once you cross the black bridge. If anything, sneaking away from the black army is the hardest thing you would have to do that night, so you’re feeling luckier the moment you step over the boundary.

The quarter is still bustling even if it is slightly late, many people getting last-minute shopping in or still picking up little things to eat. It’s in moments like this that you’re so painfully aware of how similar your world is to this one, and how humans fall into the same patterns no matter where you happen to go.

The charming little booth is in the same place you had left it, the only difference being the small string of magic lights illuminating the remaining items set out. The same man from earlier is crouched almost unnoticeably behind the stand, and only looks up when you clear your throat.

Recognition flashes through his eyes as his lips quirk up in a smile that suddenly seems all-too cynical.

“Ah, there you are. Here to pick something up?”

You push your doubts away and just nod, reaching a hand into your pocket to feel the loose change floating around. “Yes, the item I asked for earlier today. You said it would come in later, right?”

“I did. Please wait one second..”

He trails off and crouches down again, but not before sending a quick glance over your back. It’s almost completely unnoticeable, and if it weren’t for the lessons Seth has been giving you for the past few months, you probably wouldn’t have noticed it either.

“Um-”

You take a step back instinctively, and startle slightly when you feel a gust of wind behind you that can only indicate that someone has passed by. But, you try to keep your ground, standing still with your fist balled tightly in your pocket.

Yet, then you feel the atmosphere shift around you -- the unquestionable feeling of magic coursing through the humid spring air finally making you turn around. You’re then face to face with another man, an eerily familiar mask covering the important details of his face. But rather than that, you’re inclined to focus on the energy gathered in his palm instead, the magic crystal growing brighter with every passing second.

Your eyes widen as you curse under your breath, and you suddenly feel like a deer in headlights. It’s not as if it’s uncommon for small events like this one to happen every so often, but you can’t help but feel caught off guard. You were just supposed to duck out and come back before anyone noticed, but that evidently probably isn’t going to happen so smoothly now.

“No,” You swallow back your nerves, your brows going taut as your ability immediately fans out to turn the magic crystal in the man’s hand to rock. You’re surprised at the little effort it took to activate, but know it’s not the time to ogle your improvement.

Forced to drop your intents of getting the gift, you use both the men’s confusion to push past and stumble back to where the community area is still bustling enough that you think you’ll be safe. Your breath is laboured by the time you stop, but you ignore the curious eyes around you as you clamp your eyes shut.

The finishing touch has just slipped from beneath your fingers. It’s not your fault, you know more than anyone that things like that are unavoidable with the magic power you possess, but the disappointment you feel is crushing. You just want to make Sirius happy, but the fact that the universe continues to reject your attempts does nothing to encourage you.

Stuck on the topic whirling through your head, you walk back to the black territory in silence -- then don’t even notice when someone calls out your name.

“___!”

You look up after what must be the third time to see Sirius coming towards you, his expression slightly twisted under the soft light of the moon. Fear that he knows you were gone hits you, but you still try to play it off.

“..What’s wrong?”

He stops in front of you and looks uncharacteristically exasperated. “What’s wrong? I left you and got the news that disciples are roaming around, then I came back and you were gone!”

Your mind flashes back to the mask the man with the magic crystal had been wearing, and dread suddenly runs cold through you, turning your skin pale.

“Oh,” You manage, avoiding his eyes sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I just tried to pick something up for your birthday, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

You apologise, but stray from the fact that you had any interactions with the disciples at all for his sake.

Sirius just lets out a relieved sigh. “Don’t risk yourself for me, please, ___. Your safety is so much more important than that.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re happy-”

“You make me happy,” He cuts you off, his mouth shyly curving into a small smile as your lips part.

“You make me happier than anything you could give me.” He says this gently, taking advantage of your surprise to pull you into a tight hug. Sirius’s fingers dig into your back. He’s trembling, and whether it’s from ebbing unease or relief, you’re not sure.

But he holds you as if you are the only solid thing in the world.

[emotionalsupportfiction]

Oh anon... I do WANT angst~ So much delicious angst~ I went overboard with this... HEH.

Forsyth

Air was thick with the smell of smoke and blood, the cacophony of battle was disorienting. One couldn’t pick apart the sounds around them, whether they belonged to enemy or ally. But Forsyth steeled himself, eyes fixed on one cantor that summoned an unending stream of foes and commanded them to attack the Deliverance. The nuisance had been heavily guarded by its thralls, leaving no opening for a huge portion of the battle. Everyone had been worn down, killing the cantor would turn the tides of battle in their favor. The thought of it made him restless, Forsyth itched to charge straight towards the cantor.

Suddenly the air picked up and grew hot, Luthier and Delthea had combined forces to deal with the growing swarm of terrors. ‘At last an opening.’ Forsyth thought as he gripped his lance and  shield tightly. An awesome display of power and technique right before him, an angry flurry of flames thrashed through the terrors, clearing a path for the charge. Forsyth breathed deeply, his focus fixed on the cantor, with tunnel vision and no hesitation he charged forward.

Forsyth was so close to the cantor then he felt all the hairs behind his neck stand on alert followed by laughter and the crackle of lightning. He whipped his head back to see a witch had teleported right behind him, light crackling at her finger tips, hastily creeping towards him. He’d be hit point-blank and he was sure that’d be the end of him. He could almost hear Python cursing him for being so fool-hardy as he squeezed his eyes shut and whispered a prayer to the Earth Mother.

“FORSYTH!!!”

His eyes flew open at the sound of your voice. You took the bolt of lightning for him and Forsyth had the displeasure of watching you get electrocuted on his behalf. The overflow of lightning arcing away from your body as you crashed into the ground.

CLANG! He dropped his shield and lance, his legs gave out as he watched you twitch uncontrollably  but your eyes were glossed over and empty. His surroundings spun out of control, as if whirling and mixing into a chaotic murk. Forsyth weakly called out to you, he reached out to you but you didn’t respond.

Lukas

Far too many battles had chipped away your supplies, desperate times called for desperate measures. Alm opted to enter some mysterious ruin in the hopes of scavenging for weapons and provisions. Of course, he wasn’t the only one who thought of that but no one anticipated a large group of brigands within the ruins. To complicate things further, a few spectres roamed the abandoned halls.

You and Lukas had the misfortune of running into one particularly strong spectre, there was no glory dying in a forgotten ruin, better to flee and live another day. Both your laboured breaths and frantic footsteps echoed through the halls though the ungodly sound of the spectre’s pursuit grew more distant. “I think…” Lukas panted “It would be best if we go back to the entrance…” he took a quick glance back “… and wait for the rest there.” Then looked back at you for your approval. A sound idea indeed, you’d actually forgotten how expedition group had been separated. As you were about to agree, you caught some movement from an opening behind Lukas. You had only a few seconds to decide if it was friend of foe as both of you made your approach, could it have been Gray? Maybe Tobin? The movement seemed cautious but whoever they were they could’ve been injured. Lukas was quick to notice your distraction and followed your line of sight.

A glint of an axe, that was neither Gray nor Tobin, you pushed Lukas away. A sickening “THUNK” soon followed and your right shoulder grew heavy and limp, the impact knocking you off your feet. Pain and warmth followed as you lay flat on your back, the wind knocked out of you. You took a tentative glance to your right shoulder, registering an axe buried into your flesh.

The brigand yelled as he charged towards you but his battle cry turned into a yelp of pain. Lukas blocking him with the length of his lance, and with all his might, pushed the brigand back and sent him crashing against the wall. He rushed to your side, in the dim light of the ruins, checking on your wound. Blood, so much blood had pooled around you, your breathing laboured. You did your best to hide the panic in your eyes from Lukas, you forced yourself to smile as you looked up to him.

Blank, stiff, cold, and terrifying. Those are the words you would use to describe the look Lukas had on his face. His gazed trailed from axe then to the blood, his jaw set and his whole body shivered tensely. You swore you could hear him grinding his teeth. Lukas snapped his attention to the man who had injured you and slowly made his way towards him, dragging the tip of his lance against the floor ominously. His target picked himself up, yelling curses as he pulled out a dagger. Lukas swiftly disarmed him, a deft spin of his lance smacking hard against the brigand’s arm. He spun it one more time and impaled his foe right through the chest, pushing with all his strength once more, smashing the brigand against the wall.

Wounded and without any options left, the brigand pointlessly begged for mercy but Lukas remained quiet as he ripped his lance out from the wounded man’s body. He howled in pain as he clutched the gaping bleeding hole, desperately begging for mercy but Lukas would have none of it, the knight in red possessed with bloodlust and rage. Lukas gripped his lance tightly and started stabbing the brigand repeatedly. The sickening sounds of flesh being punctured repeatedly, a dying man’s pleas, and Lukas’ angry grunts bounced through the halls.

The body was indistinguishable once Lukas was done taking out all his frustrations, he was splattered with blood, an eerie accessory to his cold expression. He made his way towards you, picking you up, registering how cold you had become. “Worry not my love… nothing will hurt you. Not anymore, I’ll make sure of it.” Lukas made his way back to the entrance with you in his arms, an unearthly calm enveloped him. “You won’t hurt anymore, I promise. Nothing can hurt you. No one will hurt you. They can’t hurt you. I won’t let them.” He muttered as he walked.

Python

Python cursed his damn luck, a sword blow to the shoulder rendered him incapable of drawing his bow and being useful out in the field. You and Python made a mad dash towards one of the trenches for some cover. Once you thought you both were secure, you started patching up his wound. A warm green glow radiated from your hands and Python felt the sting of the wound dull slowly. He noticed how your brows were furrowed and how nervous you looked. He tilted your head to meet his gaze and gave you a playful wink. “You’ll get wrinkles worrying too much about little ol’me sunshine. I’ll be alright, wound’s far from the heart and the guts.” He chuckled. You let out an exasperated huff before pinching his cheeks. “Perhaps this will motivate you to miss less mister-I-can’t-aim-for-shit.” Python loved your feistiness, he feigned surprise “Mila’s knickers! You’ve got quite the mouth young lady!” You lightly flicked at the wound on his shoulder “If you can joke around then you’re well enough to fight.” You planted a quick kiss on his forehead.

He’d be lying if that little gesture didn’t make his insides melt a bit, he wanted to return the show of affection but noticed how your eyes had grown as wide as saucers. “Py-Python! Behind!” You managed to stammer out, the archer fluidly loaded his bow, drew it and turned his body around. One of the enemy grunts had managed to follow and sneak up on the both of you, his javelin  primed to be thrown. Python fired one shot, the arrow sinking into the enemy’s arm but they were undeterred. The grunt threw his weapon while Python’s body dodged instinctively, the archer quickly firing two more shots. One landing on the grunt’s neck and the other burying into his eye, they falling to the ground with a loud thud. Python was impressed with himself and pridefully turned towards you “How’s that for ‘can’t-shoot-for-shit’”.

He didn’t hear you laugh, you couldn’t, not with a javelin impaled on your stomach. “SHIT!” Python stumbled as he made his way towards you and cradled your form in his arms. “Py… it hurts…” you clutched at the fastening of his armor. “He… got me in … the guts…” “SHH! Don’t talk! Save your strength!” Python whipped his head around looking for any of the other healers. “I… I’m sorry…” panic began to overtake Python “I gotta…” he gently pressed around the javelin “St-Stop the bleeding! Mila help us, please hold on!” He saw you squirm in pain from the added pressure.

Should he leave you and look for one of the healers? Not an option, he’d never leave you, not like this. “SILQUE!!!” He yelled at the top of his lungs. “FORSYTH!? LUKAS!?” He frantically looked around him, hoping to spot one of his allies who could help you or call for help at least. Python’s heart dropped when he felt your grasp loosen “No! No! NONONONONONO! You! You stay with me!” He clutched you closer to him and angled your face so he could look into your eyes “Look at me! Please look at me!” He saw you blink, albeit weakly. “I.. am…” you croaked then your faced twisted into pain and anguish “Py…thon... I’m c-cold…”

Python let out a long frustrated shout then proceeded to yell the name of every member of the Deliverance repeatedly till his voice grew hoarse. “SIIIIILQUE!!!” He lost count of how many times he’d circled through his ally’s names, he bit his lip in frustration. “TA-“ he couldn’t get her name out through his tears. “TATI-“ his voice broke again “TATIANA! ANYONE!?” He pressed his forehead against your “please… help.” Python’s tears dripped onto your face. “Sunshine… I ain’t gonna leave you here…” he sobbed “So please… don’t you leave me.”

[bae-leth]

This is definitely not how things are gonna turn out but I’m kind of a sucker for doomed timeline AUs and my Blue Lions bias is calling to me after E3, so I hope you enjoy! I am so so SO sorry it’s soooo long, I got carried away. But yeah, hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~

Ingrid, soft-spoken and unwavering, was the first of them to fall.

Dimitri knew he should’ve never sent her on a mission so far away, practically skirting the volatile border between Faerghus and Adrestia. It didn’t matter that it was a simple escort mission, that Ingrid had been on more than handful of them before, that she’d travelled even farther than that for some missions. At the very least, he shouldn’t have sent her alone.

“Milord, you can’t spare any of the others with how tense things are right now. I’m capable.”

“Can’t you wait for another mission? I’ve been receiving troubling reports about the border.”

“My family doesn’t have the luxury of waiting anymore, milord. I…We need the money.”

The money. A noble house near ruin, desperately in need of money to the point that Ingrid would repeatedly throw herself into dangerous situations. He understood why she was so desperate, having heard the rumors of an earlier incident with the Black Eagles’ Dorothea Arnold.

But he should have refused. Then he wouldn’t have to be in his room, dawn quickly approaching, with the letter he needs to send to Ingrid’s family to inform them of their daughter’s death not done.

A powerful Bolganone spell, burning her Pegasus to nothing and leaving barely anything of Ingrid to find. Adrestia’s known for their mages the messenger who delivered the news stated, not even bothering to wait for Dimitri to stop shaking, to overpower the need to throw up, to make his comment.

He snapped at the man, sending him off with an uncharacteristic glare. He had informed the Empire well in advance that Ingrid would be in the area. Edelgard had responded promptly. Adrestia wouldn’t threaten to break years of peace, uneasy as it may be at times. No, they wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.

But Ingrid was still dead, her body laying in the morgue, waiting to go home. She would’ve been devastated to hear of the fate of her dear Pegasus. Devastated to know there was no body to bury with her, as she had once mentioned offhandedly back in their school days.

The letter still wasn’t started when a maid came to inform him that breakfast was ready.

~~~~~~~~~

Ashe, eager to please and wearing his heart on his sleeve, never truly recovered from his adoptive father’s death.

Dimitri was an idiot to ever think otherwise, to not pay closer attention. After all, Ashe was a master of hiding his grief and frustration, a trick of the trade from a childhood spent in the slums. But Ashe had become more open after Sir Ronato took him in, gave him a home, an education, a family. The old lord had become everything to Ashe, his world. His idolization of the man was no secret to anyone.

Of course, it would stand to reason that Sir Ronato’s death would cause the young boy to lapse into old habits. But Dimitri didn’t see it, didn’t search for it. But he was worried, particularly due to reports of more hostile remnants of Sir Ronato’s rebellion feeling furious at Ashe for “betraying” Sir Ronato, for biting the hand that fed him. This is what happens when you show pity for street rats, they said. It was a dangerous situation. And so, after graduation, he invited Ashe to spend some time at the castle, under the guise of training with the famous knights of Faerghus.

“Heh, you’re such a worrywart, Your Highness. I’m alright on my own! Besides I’ve got…Gaspard Castle to look after now.”

“Are you truly fine, Ashe?”

“…Yes, I am…But fine, if it’ll ease your mind, I’ll stay at the castle for a little while.”

A week later, Dimitri messed up. He let Ashe stay in the room when updated reports of the remaining members of Sir Ronato’s rebellion came in, about how they seemed to be lingering around Gaspard Castle. He underestimated Ashe’s abilities to sneak out of the castle, despite the number of guards stationed all over, despite the extra guards he assigned outside Ashe’s room on the off chance something would happen.

Gaspard Castle was eerily quiet once he and Dedue reached it, the pair having raced ahead of the rest of the soldiers. Yet there were telltale signs of fighting all over. Cracked windows, dislodged stones, cuts deep in the door…blood…so much blood…

Dedue was the one to speak to the remaining soldiers once they caught up. Leaving Dimitri in the room that could belong to none but Ashe. Staring at the still, bruised, and bloody figure of the young boy curled up in bed, looking for all the world asleep.

They never find enough evidence to charge anyone, no matter how much Dimitri searches.

~~~~~~~~~

Sylvain, friendly and passionate, disappears without a trace.

It’s terrifying how similar it is to a case from their days in the academy, which also happened to involve a member of the Gautier family, Sylvain’s disinherited older brother if he remembered correctly. Despite it occurring with Faerghus, the Church dispatched the Black Eagles to take care of the matter. Without giving him much information, even though it’s his homeland they’re in, Church orders or not. Not even Sylvain received the full story. All they were told was a mysterious beast appeared and that the Adrestian students had taken care of it. Not even a day later, Sylvain received word his brother had vanished, although he should have been at the castle where the beast was, the castle being all his brother had left to his name after being born with a crest.

Dimitri tried to speak with Edelgard, or even Professor Byleth who oversaw the Black Eagles, but he never got more information. Not even his attempts to get an audience with Lady Rhea made any progress…It was suspicious…

But he trusted Edelgard, truly he did. They may have different ideals in many categories, but Edelgard wouldn’t…couldn’t…

Without any more information, nothing could be done. As far as the records knew, Sylvain’s brother went missing and was presumed killed during the beast’s attack. Sylvain was frustrated but begrudgingly accepted the flimsy story…And then, just a few weeks earlier, Sylvain had said something strange.

“Milord, do you believe in the crests? That they’re a treasure and something we should hold with pride?”

“Sylvain? Where is this coming from? …Are you feeling alright? You’ve been looking sickly for a while now.”

“…I didn’t run off…No matter what anyone says, I didn’t run…And neither did my brother…”

Sylvain left soon after that, practically in a trance, never giving Dimitri a chance to ask him to explain. But the pieces started to fall into place once he received the news of another mysterious beast attacking near Gautier territory. Which was once again dealt with by the Adrestians, on the Church’s orders, without so much as informing Dimitri of the situation until it was already “taken care of”. And a few days later came the news that Sylvain Jose Gautier was missing…He had always known that no matter how high one was ranked, all followed the Church…And yet…And yet…Sylvain…

Dimitri didn’t sleep that night. Or the next night. Or the one after that. If Dedue noticed how dark the bags under his eyes were getting, he never said so aloud. Dedue just left various types of tea and herbal remedies by his table each night. Felix wasn’t nearly as considerate, telling him constantly to his face that he “looked like shit”. But his grip was unusually gentle when he grabbed Dimitri’s arm and dragged him to his room after Dimitri nearly collapses during a light sparring session.

He stopped responding to Edelgard’s letters.

~~~~~~~

Annette, clumsy but the hardest worker you could meet, died a month later, and Dimitri had no one to blame but himself.

Medicinal teas didn’t work. No known potions worked. Spells were 50/50, but overusing magic like that could have adverse effects on his body in the long run. But sleep was elusive. Once in a while it’d come, and he would get four, five, even six hours of much needed rest. But then the cycle would start again. One day, two days, three days, four…If this kept up, he wouldn’t be able to finish his work…

He had been having tea with Annette, listening to the young girl’s words about her latest studies in magic, about how she’d been taking a try at making potions, but the results constantly blew up in her face, sometimes to somewhat dangerous extents. Potion making was a very tricky art, she had said, explaining that the most careful person and the clumsiest still run the same risks. Suddenly, his vision went black. What seemed like mere seconds later, he opened his eyes, noticing that he was slumped over the small table, the teapot and cups shattered on the ground, and Annette hovering over him, teary eyed and looking ready to bolt for help. Dimitri quickly, but unsteadily, set himself to rights, trying to calm Annette’s concerns, assure her that he just hadn’t been sleeping right.

Annette didn’t believe his claims that a sudden blackout could occur after missing one night of sleep. She puffed out her cheeks and constantly darted in front of him whenever he tried to escape the room. Eventually, he gave up and told her the whole story, of his terrible insomnia that had started with Sylvain and refused to bow to any treatment.

“So, nothing has been working, huh Prince Dimitri? Well, maybe no one’s made the right potion for you yet!”

“Right potion…Right…The right potion…Forgive me, Annette, I swear I’m not normally like this- “

“No, no, say no more! Please hang in there a little longer! I’ll double my efforts, just for you! Oh, but I better be quick about it, you really don’t look good at all…”

He should’ve understood her words. If it had been before, before things started going to hell, before his friends started dropping one after the other, he would’ve noticed, he’s sure of it. But the tea with Annette came after five nights without sleep. It was nothing but a miracle that he had been able to make passable conversation with the young girl until he passed out. And so, he sent her off without a word, without remembering the stories she had been telling him just minutes earlier.

Damn him. Damn him for actually being shocked when he got the noticeably tear stained letter from Mercedes a week later, telling her that Annette had been mortally wounded during an accident while making potions. Damn him for having the gall to go to Annette, dear little Annette, to say his goodbyes because nothing could be done, as if he had any right. Damn him for running like a coward when Annette spoke her last words, apologizing for not getting the potion right.

Damn him, damn him, damn him…

That night, when Dedue came to Dimitri’s room with a new blend of tea that would hopefully bring the prince some rest, a desperately made concoction of every plant in his garden that produces drowsiness, he opened the door to find the young prince of Faerghus crumpled in his bed, muffling sobs into his arms. Dimitri met Dedue’s shock gaze with tear filled eyes, and yet he couldn’t compose himself.

He couldn’t…How could he take this anymore? Ingrid…Ashe…Sylvain…Annette…

Dedue sat beside Dimitri for the rest of the night, forgoing all propriety for the sake of gently running his fingers through Dimitri’s hair, trying to bring some peace.

~~~~~~~~~

Mercedes, the sweetest girl and finest surrogate sister anyone could find, fell in battle and Dimitri, worthless prince he is, wasn’t aware of any of it.

Brigands…? Enemy soldiers…? Ah, no, that’s right, it was another group of rebels this time around. Dimitri shouldn’t have been on the battlefield. He hadn’t slept in three days. He couldn’t eat anything the previous night, or that morning either. His advisors had pleaded with him. Dedue had bowed on his hands and knees, begging over and over for him to rest. Felix had tried locking him in his room, only to be thwarted when Dimitri threatened and then actually attempted to escape through the window, despite the death-defying fall awaiting him should he slip. But no, stupid, stupid, stupid. He had to come. On his honor as Faerghus’ prince, as the one his people counted on to protect them. The one who had to protect others…Even if he’s nothing but a failure…

Mercedes hadn’t said anything to him, even though they were to set out to the battle soon. He couldn’t blame her. She knew why Annette died, he told her as much after the funeral. She despised him, a weak-willed coward who claimed to be a reliable leader. Leader of what though? Dedue, Felix, and Mercedes were all that was left. But he was still the prince, he had to lead the soldiers, lead his kingdom. But…

Mercedes had turned to him at that moment. Dimitri could only watch dumbly as she gently cupped his face in her warm hands, a soft, broken smile on her face.

“Will you push yourself forever, Prince Dimitri? Will you work and fight until you break? Is this truly what you should be doing?”

“They need me…You all need me…I won’t…can’t…I need this, Mercedes. If I lose this too, then…”

“No, you don’t need this. But you won’t listen anymore…Very well, rely on us. Rely on me. You will return home alive, my prince.”

He wouldn’t listen anymore. Yes, that was true. If he had listened for once, if he had thought things through…The battle was fierce. And he hadn’t realized how much he relied on Ingrid’s distractions, Ashe’s sharp eye, Annette’s magical prowess, and Sylvain’s tenacity…or how lacking their team was without them. Maybe that was why that arrow flew true, jamming right into his eye without any warning.

As he fell to the ground, screaming as he covered his face, blood seeping through his fingers, exhaustion seemingly intensifying everything to unbearable levels, part of him couldn’t help but think about the archer who got him. What skilled archery, what incredible aim. So much like Claude…Too much like-

No, no, no, no, no…They weren’t anywhere near Leicester. Claude wasn’t in Faerghus, he’d know. He wouldn’t risk war, he was too clever for that, Dimitri knew that! Just like he knew with Adrestia, like with Edelgard. He’d know, he’d know…He’d know! He would! They wouldn’t…They…wouldn’t…?

Selfish fool he is, too lost in himself, he never realized there was a woman ferociously protecting him from incoming soldiers until back up could reach them. He didn’t notice when she fell, one arrow to many, one sword too many…He wakes up a day later in the medical wing. He can’t see out of one of his eyes. Even in his dazed state, he knows it’s gone…He should be angrier about that, shouldn’t he…?

Felix, despite Dedue warning him against it from the bed he is confined to, tells him Mercedes is dead. He never was the type to mince words, huh?

Dimitri doesn’t know what the others see in that moment. All he knows is that Felix lunges at him, Dedue trying to scramble from his bed, several healers rushing towards him, staffs raised.

He doesn’t wake up again until two weeks have passed.

~~~~~~~

Dedue. Ever gentle and ever loyal. They were…supposed to visit Daska together…

Dimitri hadn’t adjusted to his new eyepatch yet. As he had suspected, the eye couldn’t be saved. He would have to learn how to battle with one eye, relearn how to handle everything, relearn how to judge distances, both in battle and in life. And yet he wasn’t trying. There he was, lazily lying on his bed for the third week in a row. The doctors had said that, other than the eye and severe exhaustion, he was alright. But he confined himself to his room since that stupid battle. Unopened letters from Claude were piling up on his table. He didn’t answer anymore, but Claude was refusing to back down. At least Edelgard had stopped trying months ago. If either of them ever came to visit him personally…He truly hoped it wouldn’t happen…

Dedue had tried to get him to eat more, but he only ate a few mouthfuls of most meals before the nausea overwhelmed him, making him push the plates away and crawl back under the covers of his bed. Dedue had tried to cut Dimitri’s hair, noticing that it had been steadily growing over his weeks of confinement. But Dimitri had slapped the scissors out of Dedue’s hands, so the matter was left alone for now. Instead Dedue increased his efforts to get food into Dimitri, to find ways to help him sleep, to take care of his eye so that the wound would heal properly, to make him wash himself because even that much had become exhausting to the prince. It was pathetic how Dimitri was forcing his dear friend and retainer to become his personal caretaker.

Felix, who had always been a constant visitor over the years, was now a daily presence at the castle. Surprisingly, he never tried to drag him down to the training grounds. Instead, he’d push him over and lay down next to him on the bed, not saying a thing no matter what Dimitri did. Not when Dimitri stubbornly ignored him, not when Dimitri growled at him to leave, not when he screamed so loudly and fiercely that the soldiers would run in with weapons drawn, not when he actually got into a fist fight with the other man…Not even when he was too tired to do anything but press his face against Felix’s shoulder and cry…

The nobles of Faerghus were growing immensely dissatisfied with their weak-willed prince. Some of the more ambitious, and black hearted, had resorted to assassination attempts. Not that Dimitri was ever aware, to lost in himself and his own pity to pay attention. But Dedue…Always protective, always on guard…Always ready to give everything for Dimitri, even though he never deserved someone so incredible.

“Your Highness, please stop saying those things about yourself. I follow you because I have the utmost faith in you. Nothing has changed that.”

“…There’s only three of us left, Dedue…Go home to Daska…Please…Leave me.”

“That is one order I can never follow, Your Highness.”

And yet he did follow that order in the end. Dimitri’s latest assassination attempt came in the form of a band of highly trained assassins, who snuck into the castle late at night, through one of the few blind spots the castle guard had. When Dimitri, sleepless as ever, spotted the group, he laid quiet and still. His peace would finally come to him…Finally…Finally…

But Dedue, ever vigilant, had figured it out. Had burst into the room and fought off every one of them, even as they all stabbed wildly. One of them got a lucky shot, a blade slicing at the right spot on his neck. Dedue collapsed gracelessly, motionless in seconds. The sole survivor of the assassin group had turned to Dimitri to quickly finish the job.

A minute later, guards alerted to the sound of chaos entered Dimitri’s room to a grisly sight. Dedue, the prince’s retainer, lying in a pool of blood. Bodies of assassins scattered around the room among broken furniture. And Dimitri himself, screaming wildly, stabbing the broken leg of a table into the unmoving body of an assassin over and over and over…

It was only Felix’s diligence that kept Dimitri from following Dedue to the grave in the weeks to follow.

~~~~~~~

Felix…Combative and rude…Always ready to challenge him, to yell at him…Always by his side, for years and years…His most cherished childhood friend…

The bastard deserved it.

Felix effectively moved into the castle following Dedue’s death. Which suited Dimitri just fine. The prince started training again and he could use a skilled sparring partner like Felix. He would never be caught off guard again. He wouldn’t let another be forced to make up for his uselessness again. He. Would. Protect. Others.

But no, Felix suddenly decided that sparring was too good for him. As if that didn’t make up so much of their friendship. From the time they were young, pretending sticks were swords and boulders were fortresses. Felix now decided that talking was all he wanted. Talking about the others, about Dimitri, about the unrest among the Faerghus nobility, about the unanswered messages from Edelgard, Claude, and even Professor Byleth.

He didn’t want to talk. He needed to train! He had become used to the eyepatch at long last.

He needed to sleep, to eat, Felix would respond. To cut that mop of hair of his.

That would come later. He needed to become stronger.

Physically, he was plenty strong, Felix said. Mentally though…Emotionally…

Since when did that matter though? It’s strength on the battlefield that brings in results in the end. Shouldn’t Felix understand that? Dimitri thought they were supposed to be best friends.

But Felix said they were best friends, and that’s precisely why he was tired of Dimitri’s crap. The Dimitri of now, Felix said, was on the verge of shattering, of breaking beyond repair. Felix wanted to do all he could to stop that. Sparring, as much as he loved it, wouldn’t do anything for Dimitri. Not if his heart and mind weren’t there.

Dimitri scoffed and left him at that moment. How dare that asshole…Since when was Felix so sentimental? Did he think he was better than Dimitri? Is that why he was trying to act all mature now? Why doesn’t he leave that kind of garbage to someone like Dedue-?

…He wondered how much longer things would last…

A week later, he learned of a nasty skirmish between the kingdom’s soldiers and some mages. Adrestian mages…? And there were some skilled archers there too. From…Leicester…perhaps…? Whatever, they were there, and his soldiers needed help. But Dimitri was running on nothing. On two hours of sleep in a week and five meals in just as much time. And after…that battle…he wouldn’t, couldn’t go to battle like he is again. But they needed support, so he ordered more soldiers on their way. But they could use more skilled help.

Felix said he’d go. Dimitri snapped.

“They need help. They need leadership, and you’re in no state to go there, so I’m the next best thing. It’s an emergency, so quit your griping, you damn boar!”

“You could never lead to save your damn life! …Please, please, please…I’ll talk, is that what you want? Whatever you want, whenever you want. I’ll stop training, I’ll talk, I’ll eat, sleep, I’ll…I swear, I’ll-”

“Breathe, Dimitri…Okay, fine…Let’s go to your room then…”

Damn bastard…He always turned into a filthy liar whenever he was stubborn about something. The second they entered the room, a splitting pain hit the back of his head and he passed out. He woke hours later in the medical wing, the doctors explaining he’d taken a blow to the head but that he’d recover just fine.

…Faerghus won the battle…He was taken to the field, which had been in chaos while he was out cold. Bodies of his land’s soldiers and the enemy lay everywhere.

…Felix had been a demon on the battlefield. His skills were what saved the day, grateful soldier after grateful soldier told Dimitri. But that damn man…magic was always his weakness…Being grazed by a Thoron spell could paralyze most people…Being struck dead-on by one though…

The soldiers walked away as Dimitri stared at Felix’s burned, still body…Surrounded by fallen soldiers, his prized sword broken in two beside him.

Nearby soldiers flinched and turned in shock when Dimitri let out a practically primal yell and threw himself at Felix’s body, punching it over and over again. The men scrambled to him and grabbed the wild prince, tearing him away, struggling as the man desperately reached out at Felix, fingers clawing in the direction of the fallen man. They didn’t understand…Wasn’t Felix their prince’s childhood friend? He was a savior. How could the prince treat a fallen friend’s body like this?

But Dimitri no longer cared. Animalistic screams tore out of his throat, tears cascaded down his face. Damn Felix! Damn that lying ass! Damn him, damn him, damn him!

He would never forgive him.

~~~~~~~

“We are the future of Faerghus, the knights who will lead the kingdom.”

No one left…No one but him…Worthless, useless him…

“I…I may be your prince, but please remember I’m also your friend. You can speak to me about whatever you wish!”

He should’ve taken a page from Edelgard’s book, remained aloof and aware. Or perhaps be more like Claude, always on guard, hiding behind a pleasant smile. He wouldn’t be suffering like this then…

“Remember to get along with the students from Adrestia and Leicester. It’s important that we maintain strong bonds between our lands, so war will never curse us again.”

The reports were coming in. The Adrestian Empire…The Leicester Alliance…There was something brewing under the surface…And the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus itself…The nobility was furious, the commoners uneasy…Fragile peace would shatter soon. Fodlan was going to die.

“I swear I will do my utmost to lead Faerghus. And I will be relying on you all as well. We are a team; it is our honor to work together for the sake of those who needs us!”

Who was left for him to lead…? Who still needed him now…?

“It is the duty of those in power to protect the weak, the ones who don’t have the strength to fight for themselves!”

To protect…the weak…Yes, the weak. The weak who were constantly being abused by the strong. By Adrestia’s military might…By Leicester’s unparalleled spy network…By Faerghus’ selfish nobles, who would throw the innocent to the wolves for their own needs…

“The Blue Lions are honor bound to defend the innocent, for Fodlan’s future.”

For…the ones who can’t fight back…Who can no longer fight back, no matter how much he dreams of it. No matter how often the wonderful, painful memories plague his mind.

“We must do whatever we can! But remember, we are knights. We won’t shame our homeland by acting without reason, without chivalry.”

Even if he had to raze Adrestia and Leicester to the ground…Even if he had to bring ruin to Faerghus itself…

“We can help Fodlan grow stronger and more united.”

Fodlan could rebuild…They must start again, from zero.

“I’m depending on you all. The eight of us are strong together. There’s nothing we can’t accomplish.”

…Felix, Dedue, Ingrid, Mercedes, Ashe, Sylvain, Annette…

“We’re counting on you, Leader!”

And he would never fail them again.

[imagine-loki]

The last one blooming, Chapter 8

TITLE: The last one blooming

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 8

AUTHOR: fanficshiddles

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine that there is an omegaverse where Alphas and omegas can only bond with their true mate. Loki is an Alpha and he one day meets his omega. But she is a young Midgardian child, who is terrified of Alphas. So he has to work hard to gain her trust, to allow the bond to grow between the two.

RATING: M

As time went on, Rose fit in well on Asgard. Loki taught her everything she needed to know to catch her up before joining school.

When Loki told her about going to school, she was surprisingly ok about it. Her interactions with other Alphas was getting better too. She was still a little skittish around groups of them or if one was loud, but that was to be expected.

The relationship between Loki and Rose grew every day. It wasn’t often that they were apart. Some nights Loki would fall asleep in Rose’s den with her, other times she would sneak into his room and cuddle up beside him.

He quickly discovered that Rose was pretty tough for her age. The first time she fell over, right on front of Loki’s eyes, he panicked and rushed over to her. But she didn’t cry. She complained and whined about the pain on her knee a lot, but didn’t cry.

He knew that was no doubt because of the physical pain she had already experienced, was nothing in comparison to scraping her knee. It broke Loki’s heart in a way, though at the same time he was glad he didn’t have to deal with a crying child as he healed her up.

She also started nibbling on her toy, Wolfie who was starting to look a bit tattered and messy. It was like a comfort thing for her. But Loki was surprised when she started nibbling him too. She would just pick up his hand while he was reading to her and she would nibble on his fingers.

It was adorable and Loki’s heart melted every time she did it. Frigga told him that was something that some omega children did for comfort. And also as a way for them to claim something as ‘theirs’ even if she didn’t understand why she was doing it yet.

As that was the way of marking another. When an Alpha and omega bonded together sexually, they would bite and mark one another’s bodies. Especially the Alpha, who would bite their omegas neck and break the skin, to leave a more permanent mark to show other Alphas she was taken. Sometimes the omega would bite the Alpha hard enough to break the skin too, but it wasn’t as common.

It was the day before Rose was due to start school, Loki could tell that she was nervous, so he kept her occupied for the day.

They were in his quarters playing hide and seek, Rose was hiding as Loki finished counting.

‘I hope you have found a good place to hide, little one. I’m coming to find you!’ He called out through the quarters.

He tuned in on his hearing, expecting to hear her giggling, that often gave her hiding place away when they played. But this time, she managed to stay silent.

He easily sought her out though by her scent. Part of him was annoyed with how strong his sense of smell was, especially for Rose, as it kind of ruined the idea of hide and seek. But Rose loved playing the game anyway.

He discovered she was hiding in the wardrobe. So he threw the doors open wide and let out a playful roar as he grabbed Rose, who started giggling as he tickled her before lifting her up into his arms.

'That was too easy.’ He chuckled.

'My turn!’ She said excitedly as she squirmed in his arms to get down.

He lowered her down carefully to the floor and she ran off to the doors of his quarters. She went outside to count to 10, while Loki went into his lounge to hide behind the sofa.

When Rose finished counting, she searched his chambers before going into the lounge. But suddenly her sense of smell heightened dramatically. It was stronger than ever and she was able to pinpoint exactly where Loki was in the room. Something she hadn’t been able to do before. But the sudden strength of his scent overwhelmed her and made her feel lightheaded.

'Loki!’ She called out in distress as she felt panicked.

Loki could tell by her voice, and the smell of her stress was clear in the air. So he rushed out to her and saw her sitting on the floor with her head down.

Loki sat down by her and wrapped his arm around her to comfort her.

'What’s wrong, Rose?’ He asked, worried.

'I don’t know…. Smell… Stronger.’ She whimpered as she buried her face into Loki’s shoulder.

'It’s ok, little one. That is natural for your age. Your basic instincts are starting to get stronger. It is the same for all Alphas and omegas your age. You will get used to the strength of it, I promise you.’ Loki assured her.

'Why?’ Rose asked.

'Because it’s just who we are. In our genes.’ Loki chuckled.

'What about betas?’ Rose asked.

'They don’t have the same traits that we do.’

'Why?’

'Because… Well, they are Betas and are just made differently from us.’ Loki wasn’t entirely sure how to explain that to her. 'It’s something you will learn more about in school.’ Loki chuckled and booped her nose playfully with his finger, making her laugh.

'Come on, it’s bath time. Then I’ll read you a story before bed time.’

Frigga couldn’t work out who was more nervous about Rose’s first day of school, Rose or Loki.

Loki kept asking her questions and subtly scenting her. By hugging her and nuzzling against her neck, rubbing her arms and back. He couldn’t help himself.

'And what do you do if anyone does anything to hurt you or make you uncomfortable?’ Loki asked Rose for the millionth time, as she rolled her eyes at the worried Alpha.

'Tell the teacher.’ Rose repeated.

'Yes, good girl.’ Loki nodded.

He had wanted to tell her to punch them, but he knew that was more of an Alpha or beta response. And he didn’t want her to get into any trouble or cause harm to herself. So he resisted from saying that.

'Ready?’ Frigga asked.

'Yep.’ Rose nodded as she gripped Loki’s hand tightly.

She was really nervous about how the others might treat her. But Loki gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Both Loki and Frigga took Rose to the school in the city.

Different smells clouded Rose’s senses as children and adults bustled around them. She turned into Loki and hid her face against his thigh.

'I don’t want to go.’ She whined.

Loki very nearly just lifted her up and carried her back home. But he knew that wasn’t the best idea.

'You will be ok. I promise, little one.’ Loki said softly.

He crouched down and pulled her into a big hug.

'After you’re finished school we will go for a ride on Gljásvartur. That’s something for you to look forward to.’ Loki whispered.

'Promise?’ Rose asked.

'I promise.’ Loki nodded.

He kissed the top of her head before letting her go and sending her into school with the other children.

Frigga assured Loki that she would be fine. But Loki was still nervous and worried.

To Rose’s surprise, she really enjoyed her day. The other kids were very accepting of her, not mocking her for being a Midgardian, instead asking questions about Midgard. She also noticed there was others there from other realms like Vanaheim.

She made friends with another omega, called Freya.

'Do you have an Alpha friend too?’ She asked Rose at free time.

'Yes, you do too?’ Rose asked and Freya nodded.

'He works in the palace, he is a guard there. He’s my best friend!’ Freya said with a big smile.

'Me too with my Alpha. He’s over a thousand years old.’ Rose giggled.

'Wow! Mine is only 800 ish… Do you ever wonder why an older Alpha likes to spend time with you? I feel a connection with him, but it’s confusing.’ Freya said as she picked up some clay.

'I haven’t thought about that before… But my Alpha did say we were meant to meet. That I would understand when I was older.’ Rose said as she took some clay too.

'Have you ever played pranks on your Alpha?’ Freya smirked.

'No. Have you?’

'Oh yeah. Lots and lots of times. It’s so funny.’ Freya laughed.

'What do you do?’ Rose asked, curiously.

'Well…’ Freya leaned in to whisper to Rose as she cupped her hands to her ear.

Loki was the first person there to collect someone from school. He was desperate to see her and see how she got on. He had been worried all day about her.

'Good afternoon, my Prince. First day at school for your omega?’ A man asked as he approached, Loki recognised him as Baldur, one of the guards in the palace.

'Good afternoon, Baldur. Yes, I am. I didn’t realise you had a… child?’ Loki questioned.

'No, omega too. She’s from Vanaheim. I was a little worried about others making fun of her, but I noticed a few other Vanir enter this morning.’

'I am worried too. Though Rose is from Midgard.’

'Ah. Well, let’s hope we don’t have to have words with any Aesir children.’ The guard chuckled and Loki nodded in agreement with a smirk.

There was suddenly a mini wave of children as they left school, chattering and laughing together. But Loki and Baldur were concerned when there was no sight of their omegas.

But they both relaxed and looked at one another with a smile as they saw their omegas walking out together, their arms linked together as they skipped along happily.

Loki felt his heart swell with pride and happiness at the sight of them both. He was so happy that she had made a friend.

When the young girls spotted their Alphas, they broke into a run and bolted over to them. Rose launched herself into Loki’s arms as he scooped her up.

'Hello, little one. I missed you.’ He said as he kissed the top of her head.

'I missed you too. But I had a great day and look what I made.’ She said excitedly as Loki placed her back down to her feet.

She pulled out a clay model.

'It’s Glar Glar!’ She said excitedly as she held it up for him.

Loki was pleasantly surprised with how good it was, especially for her age.

'This is wonderful. Fantastic work, Rose.’ Loki smiled as he ruffled her hair playfully.

'You didn’t tell me that your Alpha is Prince Loki!’ Freya whispered to Rose as she looked up at Loki with wide eyes.

'Yes! He is.’ Rose smiled.

'Who’s your friend?’ Loki asked as he crouched down to the girls’ level.

'My name is Freya, Prince Loki.’ Freya said as she curtseyed politely.

'Can Freya come over to play?’ Rose begged.

'I don’t see why that would be a problem. How about we all go to the gardens by the pond?’ Loki suggested as he glanced to Baldur, who nodded in agreement.

The girls squealed excitedly at the answer.

The two played by the pond while Loki and Baldur sat on a bench, supervising them.

'How did you find Freya?’ Loki asked.

'She found me actually. It was during the attack on Vanaheim last year. I was there fighting and when it was over, I was packing up to leave. But I felt a weird tug from outside. So I left the house and out popped Freya from some bushes. I knew instantly that she was the one. So, with the Allfather’s blessing, I stayed on Vanaheim for a few months to get to know her. Then, her parents allowed her to move here with me. She wasn’t worried at all about leaving her parents, which is good… Yet part of me isn’t sure whether I should be concerned about that or not.’ He chuckled.

'I know what you mean. It’s a strange bond. But everything happens for a reason.’ Loki smiled.

'How did you find Rose? She is from Midgard, so far in comparison to Vanaheim.’

'She was cast out by her parents for being an omega. Told her she was worthless. Her Alpha mother harmed her and so did other Alphas when she was in the streets and trying to get help. She was running away when she fell through a hidden portal. I found her in a really bad way. She was terrified of me to start with. She is still unsure around loud or bulshy Alphas. A bit skittish. But much better than she was a year ago.’ Loki said proudly as he looked over at his little Rose.

'I remember that night, now you mention it. I was on duty and saw you carrying her back to the healers. I’m glad she’s been able to bond with you.’

'I’m very glad that Rose and Freya have connected. It will do her good to have a friend her age.’ Loki smiled.

'Me too. Though I should warn you, Freya can be really forward. And is very mischievous.’

'Well, that may not be a bad thing. Rose is still rather shy. Besides, I’m the god of mischief, so I can handle some mischievousness.’ Loki chuckled.

Freya’s cheekiness and confidence did rub off slightly on Rose. She was a little more confident in herself and did indeed start pulling pranks on her Alpha.

The one that had got Loki the best was when he went for a bath. He was washing his hair and when he poured shampoo out of the bottle, he failed to notice all of the glitter in it until it was too late.

'ROSEMARY!’ He called as he rushed into her chambers and saw her with Frigga, sat on her bed.

Rose knew she was in trouble because he used her full name. She shuddered slightly from his tone, but he didn’t smell angry so that slight nervousness melted away. Especially when she saw him.

He still had glitter in his hair and she burst out laughing. Even Frigga struggled to keep a straight face.

'Glitter! Really?’ Loki growled.

'You look very pretty.’ Frigga laughed.

'There is glitter in places that there most definitely shouldn’t be. Do you know how difficult it is to get rid of glitter?’

Frigga just smirked, while Rose couldn’t stop laughing. So much so she fell onto her back as she clutched her stomach.

'Little madam! I’ll give you something to laugh about.’ Loki said as he rushed towards her.

Rose let out a screech as she scrambled up to her feet and jumped off the bed to run away from him.

'Give me strength.’ Frigga shook her head as she watched Loki chase a squealing Rose all around the chambers.

[cutegirlmayra]

Mayraaaa i beg you!!! Pleaaaaase make the part 2 of that prompt you did about Amy as a commander, please please pleaseee i love so much your work ❤❤❤

(x) Permission given by artists, please support them as well!

Prompt referenced: (x) Part 1

Prompt:

“There’s been an attack! Sonic’s-! BBBzzztt…”

“There’s what?” Amy’s head whipped back, her hand moving up a second as if about to charge the lieutenant with the communication box and grab the mic.

“R-Re-Repeat that please?” the man was startled, to these G.U.N soldiers, and the Army Division that was recently added of anthropomorphic soldiers, Sonic was there shining hope in this war…

“C-Commander…” the man was losing his nerve, lowering the phone but not clicking it off as he looked to her in fear.

She saw in his face the courage she was trying to instill in her men vanish, and knew exactly what she had to do.

“Sonic’s fine.” she carefully walked over and put a hand on his shaking frame, and then took the phone.

“This is Commander Amy. Where’s my Sonic?”

“BzzztTTTT….BBBZzttt…”

“Darn, the communications completely wonked out.” she gave it back to his ear.

“You’re now in charge of trying to pick up a signal again. From anywhere. I’m going to go find Sonic.” She ordered as if with a gentle touch to it somehow, and it calmed her soldier as he nodded and returned to his former self after a deep breath.

He fiddled with the communications and she knew, looking behind her, he’d be okay.

About to take off, she suddenly heard a soldier call out, “Commander Rose! How on earth do you expect to find him!? He’s probably a thousand miles out in No-man’s land!!” the soldier had ducked back in the trenches and glared at her, clearly frustrated with dirt and oil all over his face from fighting.

The lieutenant rose his head and looked confused at the soldier, “Are you blind?” he stated, and shut the phone off in what looked to be perplexed disbelief.

“It’s Amy Rose, you nitwit!” he gestured to her as if the soldier was stupid. “She could find Sonic if he were in a haystack!”

Amy smiled, something in her heart sparked to life at his words. A tender warmth she had almost pushed aside for too long now…

She let the feeling come and go… before nodding to the man and then saluting them.

“I’m leaving you in charge.”

“W-wa-wait, WHAT?! B-but the colonel..?” The man protested, thinking him not high enough rank to lead an army in her absence…

“Trust me.” she winked. “After this, you’re getting another star.”

He knew the term all too well, and proudly smiled and straightened his back, realizing a promotion could be in his future.

“Good luck, Commander Rose.” he nodded in absolute faith and trust in her.

She thrust her salute down in respects and raced off, dodging bombs, ducking robot attacks and laser fire, missiles, crumbling skyscraper debris, landslides from too much explosions and fighting, the works.

As she raced to find Sonic, she suddenly felt a panic come into her heart.

‘What could be wrong with Sonic?’ She pondered the terrifying thought, trying to not look around her and see what was happening…

But her eyes darted up to each fearful thing that could befall him…

Tails’s team was attacking from the skies, shooting down the Giant-Egg-blasters and going for multiple air-enemies…

Knuckles team was more underground, below the city where Eggman had set traps and sneaked landbombs. But thankfully, the robots down there were only guard-dogs, so to speak. So Knuckles’s team was mostly in-charge of protecting us from below.

She stepped carefully, but would always look up to see what’s around her.

She finally saw one!

Her heart raced to an unbelievable tempo at seeing a soldier with Sonic’s colors as a bandanna around his neck.

He was in Sonic’s division!

Sliding behind him, she put a hand on his back as he shot and scooted up on one knee towards a fallen enemy.

“What do you want!?” He shouted out over the noise of gunfire, his cheek turning red from tilting it down so hard on his gun, trying to see through his aiming devices to properly shot at the flailing robot he was targeting.

“Sonic. Where?”

“Fallen.” he cocked his gun and a few barrels sprayed out.

Amy felt her whole world pause.

“He’s laying by the compound. We’re trying to let him rest, but-” he shot more bullets, before turning his head back to her once the lone robot reached a hand up, and finally… dropped it down and turned his head.

His eyes flickered, and once finally out, he could sort-of turn his back on the fallen enemy.

He looked over his shoulder now, able too.

“He fidgets, Ma’am.” he smiled, teasing. Amy knew that meant this soldier liked and knew him well.

“What rank are you?”

“A good friend doesn’t need ranks.” He winked, “Sonic’s orders.”

She smiled.

He would run his platoon without ranks.

“I hope you’re still paid well.”

He laughed, getting her up with him, “We hide our stars, miss.” he took her arm and began to run with her, as she felt a little silly being guarded by this man.

Then a memory…

Sonic had always protected her… gotten her out of danger…

At least he wasn’t-…

She shook her head, unable to even comprehend such a thought without a squeezing sensation in her chest, and a horrible sting of tears threatening behind her eyes.

The renewed memory of her telling him she didn’t need a babysitter suddenly stung and pricked at her heart as though she had somehow wounded her dearest friend without realizing it.

She suddenly came to the reason of her wrongs- she may have come off a bit too…

Uncaring…

Of her precious, life-long hero.

That wasn’t her heart though!

She shook herself of her feelings but became more desperate to see him, coming towards a ruined building with no roof, only crumbled walls that still held some bricks left to it.

Rushing inside the crumbled structure, Amy saw Sonic being laid on a large turned, rectangular pillar. The medics around him as he had one hand on his stomach, tossing a bit as they put instruments of healing all around or on him.

She was paused with a sudden horror striking through and pinning her feet to the unstable rumble they had for a ground.

“…Miss Rose?” The man, with some amount of tenderness, stopped himself when he felt the tug of resistance.

Her eyes glossed as she scanned the scene of Sonic breathing hard, in pain, as the men worked on him without sympathy, robotically, as though they were in the zone and couldn’t be drawn out of it just because it was their Commander.

She slowly took a step forward,.. then her quills slowly rose up and she dashed with widened eyes towards him.

The man let her go, and a look of worry struck his face.

Sonic’s senses heard her footsteps, but couldn’t recognize them until he forced an eye to try and open.

“Wh-…Whose making a…Ack! … grr… racket?”

“SONIC!”

His trembling eye suddenly held itself open.

“…Amy…?” he breathed out, as if in shock.

He couldn’t turn his head, as the medics insisted, but he did so anyway…

“Sir!”

“Control yourself!”

“Don’t move!”

“Sh…shut up.” he turned to see her, his neck killing him as he did so. “How’d you find…?”

“Incoming!!!”

A man called right as Amy bent to her knees to be closer to him, but a handful of missiles rose over the beaten, half-standing walls and dared to lift themselves up before spiraling down.

“Take cover!”

In complete and total instinct, Amy looked back to Sonic and threw him over her shoulder.

He let out a cry of pain, but she dashed off.

Amazingly… her adrenaline carried him with just a bit of his own strength left for his feet off and behind a wall, still trying to escape as bodies were flung up from the explosion with cries of pain.

The wall behind her crumbled and she tripped.

They both fell as Sonic whinced, before feeling her grab him again and hoist him up.

“Am… Amy you’re back…” he loosely spoke, looking to see the burns that were still sizzling from the recent attack…

“Ignore them.” she spoke through gritted teeth and carried him on, his arm over her shoulder, and his legs barely able to drag himself along with her.

She walked and breathed hard with sweat trickling down her face as though rain had fallen.

The whole time, he kept one eye squinted open, not daring to look away from her face…

The staring wasn’t even noticed by Amy. All she had on her mind was to get him to safety. Treat him herself.

With tender hands, she lowered him on a patch of grass that lay on a hill outside the war zone near some trees in the distance.

They were far from any bullets… any gunfire…

She fell to her knee and gasped as the arching from her back made some flesh tare and crack, the burns already having festered into burnt crisps, but sealing wounds during the process.

Small blood leaked from her waist, but she didn’t care.

It only stained her dress a darker red anyway.

She turned to her true concern.

Sonic.

He was reeling in pain.

The exertion from trying to keep up with her had left his wounds once again re-opened.

She quickly tore some of her dress that was clean of blood, and began to patch him up again.

She had a;first aid kit on her and just started going at it, holding him still as much as she could as she sowed him up, and finally, he rested in somewhat of peace…

She fed him a painkiller that she had to push into his mouth and then press her hand against him so he wouldn’t spit it out.

Once it was in, and she felt the swallow below her other hand to feel his throat, she sighed in relief and fell by his side.

Panting… they both remained silent.

A moment later, she felt light pats on her back, and awoke to stinging sensations.

Sonic, with the pain subsided to say the least, couldn’t move much but had turned on his side and grabbed the first aid kit.

In gentle pats, he had soaked a cotton dab and was attempting to try and help her own wounds.

She turned her head to look at him, seeing him strain himself to keep his hand up on her back, and not let it fall down to rest… knowing that would only bring her added pain.

“…Sanitizing?” she questioned, breathing hard still as her hands gripped the earth and tared into it… the pain searing like fire afresh on her back.

He seemed numb to her winces though, as if he had become null to any noise of suffering.

War could do that to people though.

And if you didn’t have that ability, then what? Endless guilt and regret?

True torture, to a soldier, is being unable to help through your heart alone.

It’s better to put your heart to the side in a safe, and carry on then to dwell in that misery and ache.

Sonic nodded, mustering a faint smirk before lowering his hand from her.

“I just finished…” his eyes looked tried, as if the painkiller she had given him was in full effect, but now he was trying to move and help when his body really shouldn’t be able to do anything.

“You’re still hurt.” Amy raised a hand to his face, and he closed his eyes, breathing as if to fall asleep.

“…You…You’re crazy.” he coughed a chuckle before looking back at her.

“Why on earth did… did you…” his voice was fading and she pulled herself closer to him, reeling her neck up at the pain it caused her back.

“Hey,” he tapped her arm, “I just.. worked on.. that…”

“Really? Still being… erk.. s-sarcastic?” she smiled right after some pain, and lowered her head close to him.

“… Amy, why did.. you come.. for me?” he closed his eyes again.

Amy face lost it’s cool,… and she started to tear up.

“You idiot… I’ve tried to become so strong.. because… because…” her voice cracked as her face turned red with the threat of weeping, and she let some tears go as she nuzzled her head to the ground, shaking it in her emotions.

“Because I couldn’t stand to leave you to find a war-Ah! that you shouldn’t have to fight alone! I want a future with you… I may have changed, but my feelings and why I even fight so hard still haven’t-!”

She felt suddenly that same fire from her back dip down to her stomach, which she was laying on.

She closed her eyes to fight revealing her pain, feeling the chill of the wind against it didn’t help… it only fed the fire that began to force her mouth open as small sounds of suffering escaped so lightly from it in little gusts of air.

Suddenly, she felt touch on her face.

She was amazed by the action, and tried to reopen her eyes as she sweated and panted, but the touch gently moved over her eyes, bidding them to stay closed.

She felt sleep taking over herself again, feeling the touch glide over the lines of her face… the between area of her eyes and then the stretch of her muzzle up to her eyelashes.

The comfort and calming it gave her renewed feelings she had pushed away to try and remain strong and steadfast.

Her heart almost purred under the sensation of his loving gesture… He was truly trying to peacefully lull her out of her painful state.

But what about him?

She ducked her head to the side, burying it in the ground before opening her mouth once again.

But instead of a sound of suffering… something sweeter appeared.

“I love you.”

The words she hoped she would speak without losing him to a sudden distance he might rend between them… all that fear rose up again… but she couldn’t hold it back.

The feelings had piled and spilled out in a sudden rush of love he had renewed in her.

The tips of her fingers became numb.

Her nose turned cold and dry.

She felt her lungs taking in less and less air.

Then-…

When her eyes started to lose all hope of light…

A arm gently, shaking in their exhaustion, moved over her and gently pulled her closer.

She let out another faint cry of pain, very quickly, but almost with a tenderness of not caring as she felt the gesture worth enduring any side-effects for.

He brought her closer.

In her last moments of conscious strength, she felt him also give a hand to the back of her head, clutching her.. bringing her right beside him.

She fainted after feeling warm breath upon her forehead…

(Author’s Commentary:

 So… people said that they wouldn’t mind- like- my thoughts on a prompt I created? Well… I feel that may spoil my writing techniques XD haha, oh well! Better to express it then let it all die with me someday, right? Plus, it could be fun.

I really enjoyed writing this. I woke up and remembered this idea. I had to write it right away before I lost it. I had structured this to mostly be emotion and longing tied with intense circumstances. Love CAN and WILL be denied on a battlefield. So I pulled them away from the war… let the war be between their hearts, and then you realize… there is no war. There never was one between them. Sonic’s arc was satisfied by the confession, meaning his character dilemma was fulfilled in now knowing he’s still something to her. Which the last prompt made clear didn’t sit well with him thinking he wasn’t needed or anything more to her. Amy’s arc was fulfilled by her realizing he wouldn’t act the way she thought he would from her saying it. Instead, his comforts for her led to his own comfort. The two fell asleep in their exhaustion, but not only that, in relief as well.

I wrote this to draw some tragic longing from my readers. I wrote it to engross you into a never-ending dread that pulls you into each line, with no real breaks from the tension until the end. This way, everything I piled inside of you comes rushing out in a sense of relief, which is exactly what the characters are feeling too. The readers are meant to feel a sense of what the characters feel towards the end of the story. If I had not released them from this hold I first created, they would not have been satisfied and would continue to carry that dread, leading to sorrow and possibly aggressive frustration, depending on the person.

I really liked putting Amy through a suffering that piled up till the moment her heart declared what she had never truly lost. And I liked revealing her strength and love in a way that Sonic could translate and easily understand. Because of that immediate ‘touched’ feeling, he selflessly began to be her hero again, which never truly left him either, but he felt he had to refuse because of their last discussion.

I could go on and on but I think my thoughts and feelings on this prompt may take away from the overall sensation of the prompt story xD I hope you enjoyed, regardless if you wanted Author’s Commentary, or not >w

[leahlisabeth]

6. Empty Kiss - When one of you don’t kiss back, just the stoic feeling of their lips on yours, it’s empty, like no one even cares anymore. - Andreil fight, mayhaps???

Andrew knew something had shifted when feelings started to break through his drug fueled haze.  At first, it was weak, just fleeting impressions sneaking through when he approached sobriety.  There was fear, the urge to run, and, most improbably, every once in awhile he actually cared about Exy.  The anger, the stubbornness, those he recognised, those could almost be his own, but the longing to be a part of the family, that was something that he had stomped out long ago.

Again, he blames the drugs because it took him far too long to realise the feelings were not his own.  They belonged to this boy, the rabbit, scarred and terrified, but strong and full of words like knives, Neil Josten, the runaway, soulmate to the monster.

He wonders if Neil knows.  He mustn’t.  Would the longing to belong be this strong if he knew his soul had found a home?  He wonders sometimes if Neil can feel anything from his side of the bond and if the drugs would let him care, he would rail at the injustice.  

It takes months for the mark to even begin to show.  It’s a fox paw because of course it is.  Neil’s obsessed.  And Andrew thinks it fits somehow because maybe if there was nothing standing in the way and he could let Neil be his everything, he would be drawn into everything else he was missing, the home and family that the Palmetto Foxes provided.

He traced the lines over and over in bed at night, pressing hard, trying to feel what he knew it should mean but he usually fell asleep without an answer.

Thanksgiving arrived and everything changed again.  Drake happened and Andrew was separated from everyone, separated from Neil, and he was getting clean.  He would trace the mark every time he couldn’t sleep, when the pain from withdrawal grew too much.  He wished he could feel Neil, that he could draw strength from his feelings, from a Christmas celebrated with friends, and a new year full of possibility.  But he was also happy that the bond hadn’t darkened yet and Neil wouldn’t have his Christmas ruined by Andrew’s pain.

And then he comes back, and Neil is bruised and broken, and Andrew never really believed this was real.  But sometimes now, Neil lets him pin him to the ground and kiss him slowly and the fox paw on his forearm is red as scarlet.  Neil blushes as red as the mark when he finally pulls up the hem of his shorts to let Andrew see the outline of the key traced on his inner thigh.  Andrew kisses Neil like his life depends on it and waits for the other shoe to drop.

The away game in Binghamton is an exercise in restraint.  He sits beside Neil in the bus and can feel every thought and feeling as Neil remembers their kisses the night before.  Neil is dangerous.  Andrew makes promises.

He feels a spike of fear from Neil as he waits for him outside the showers.  He almost barges in to demand an explanation but Neil calms almost immediately.  Neil exits the showers, his hair wet and his shirt clinging to his skin as if he hadn’t properly dried off before putting it on.  He looks around, able to hide his hint of surprise from everyone but Andrew.  He comes and stands directly in front of Andrew and smiles.  It isn’t a smile that Andrew recognizes.

“Thank you.  You were amazing,” Neil said, and Andrew was overwhelmed.  Neil was leaving the stadium, right behind the security guard before Andrew could even begin to sort out what Neil had just given him.  There was pride, and something Andrew thought might be love, but there was fear too, and bitter determination, and Andrew ran to catch up to Neil when he realised the sour thread running through everything was goodbye.

Then the riot began and he was too late.  He could feel fear and pain from Neil, enough to drive him mad.  He barely felt the elbow driving into his eye.  

And then the riot ended and the fear and pain went on.  Andrew found Neil’s duffle, phone tucked inside, and his Exy racquet a few feet away, handle broken and splintered.  Neil was nowhere.  

And no one else seemed worried.  Dan was preoccupied with Matt’s injuries.  Wymack and Abby were perfectly calm and said they would call around to the other hospitals once they had had time to get organised.  There was no reason to panic now.  Everyone he knew was sitting, laughing, relieved to be alive and safe, and his own world was imploding.  Pain was fluttering up and down his hands and arms.  Andrew knew intimately what a razor to the forearm felt like.  Fire licked at his inner thigh and his soulmark exploded in pain.  Andrew screamed hoarsely and doubled over, collapsing to the floor.

Abby was there a moment later, frantically patting him down for injuries.  Andrew couldn’t speak because it was suddenly much too quiet.  The place in his mind that Neil had occupied since they met was empty and echoing.  Even the residual ache from Neil’s pain had disappeared entirely.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Andrew whispered as he tore off his right armband.  “It’s not black, he’s alive.” But the mark had changed to a deep purple and Andrew didn’t know what that meant.

“Neil’s…” Dan choked.  “He’s your soulmate?”

Nicky deflated, pulled a wad of cash out of his wallet, and handed it to Allison.  Dan shot them a venomous glare.

“We’ll get him back, Andrew,” Wymack started but Andrew was done, he pushed past them all and locked himself in the bathroom.  He didn’t emerge until Wymack knocked on the door hours later.  

“He’s been found.  The FBI has him,” he said simply.

Andrew stood and strode out into the main room.  Two men in suits stood there, falsely sympathetic.  Andrew marched right up to the taller of the two men, grabbed his black tie, and yanked the man’s face down to his level.  “Where is Neil?  I want to see him.”

The man fought and Andrew lost himself to a haze of rage until he feels metal around his wrist and recognizes Wymack’s face.  “You can’t do anything for Neil if they lock you up,” Wymack said.  

Andrew listens. But he doesn’t settle until he comes back from parking the bus and Neil is there in front of him again.  It feels wrong.  Neil is on his knees and Andrew is front of him.  He’s close enough to touch, so why can’t he feel him?  Andrew gently peels the bandages off Neil’s face and the wrongness intensifies.  The burns, the cuts, those would have been agonizing, and Andrew hadn’t felt them at all.

Andrew leans forward, grasps the back of Neil’s neck, and pulls him into a desperate kiss, heedless of the people watching.  And it’s just empty, it’s nothing, Neil isn’t kissing back.  Andrew pushes closer, frantic, trying to find the fire of their kisses from only days before.  But nothing changes.  It’s like Neil doesn’t even care.

Neil pulls back first.  Andrew tries to chase his lips but Neil’s hand is firm on his chest and it so clearly is shouting no.  Neil clutches at his inner thigh, the place his soulmark had formed, and Andrew could see the bulk of bandages under his pants.

“I’m sorry,” Neil said hollowly.  “I thought I was going to die.  I couldn’t let you feel my death. I…I broke it.”

For the first time, Andrew could understand why Neil ran.  All he wanted to do was run until he couldn’t feel anymore.  He missed the oblivion of the drugs.  But he didn’t run.  Neil still had to be questioned by the FBI and, even if Neil would never feel the same way about him again, he had to make sure Neil returned, that Neil could keep his found family, his Foxes.

Returning to Palmetto was probably the hardest thing he had ever done.  Reminders of what he had lost were everywhere.  He couldn’t go to his rooftop refuge, he wanted to tear the beanbag chairs in their living room apart.  Mere hours after returning, he found himself sitting on his bed, armbands on the pillow beside him, his sharpest knife resting in his hand, poised over the fox paw on his forearm.  One quick slice and he could stop feeling all of this.  

A soft knock interrupted his musing.  He shoved the knife under the pillow with a promise of later and answered the door.  Neil stood there, black garbage bags and duct tape cradled in his bandaged arms.

“I’m sorry,” Neil said.  “I need to shower but I can’t cover…my hands…” He shrugged.  “I didn’t want Matt to see my scars.”

And Andrew nodded and followed Neil to the bathroom because he doesn’t know what he’s asking.  There’s so much weight to this moment, seeing Neil completely naked for the first time.  The soulmark is hardly visible.  The outline of the key is broken by white jagged lines as if Neil had torn it open with his fingernails.  It’s the only wound that has already healed and scarred.  Andrew wants to touch it but Neil’s answer is no longer yes.  

He helps Neil cover his wounds and turns on the shower.  He should leave but this might be his last moment to let himself feel and he’s not ready for it to end.  He follows Neil into the shower, fully clothed, and starts to shampoo his hair.  Neil faces him. Andrew almost wishes he would turn away.  He can feel the water running down his neck and Neil is so close.  Neil bends for a moment, chasing a rivulet of water as it snakes down Andrew’s neck.  Andrew moans and Neil pulls back, blushing.

Andrew finishes Neil’s hair and kneels down to wash his legs and feet.  He’s eye level with Neil’s cock and this is not how he imagined being in this position.

“I wanted this so much,” Neil speaks hoarsely from above him.  “I would dream about this.  I remember the want, everything I felt about you.  But it’s like there is a wall between me now and me then.  I wish I could go back.”

Andrew is suddenly glad that the water pouring down his face disguises his tears.  He blinks up at Neil.  “Yes or no?”  He holds his breath.

Neil face twists but he nods and Andrew leans forward and sucks him down.  Neil cries out brokenly and Andrew tries to pour everything he had ever received through the bond from Neil into this one encounter that would never be repeated.  Neil sobs when he comes.  Andrew crowds him into the wall of the shower, keeping him on his feet.  He grips one hand around the back of Neil’s neck and holds eye contact and his other hand slips down into his pants tugging and stroking, completely silent as he finds his own orgasm.

“Goodbye, Neil,” he says and he leaves the shower, dripping water back into his own room.  The soulmark on his forearm has faded into a light gray and Andrew knows it is over.  He scratched absentmindedly at the side of his neck where Neil’s lips had been mere minutes before.  He looked in the mirror and saw the faintest outline of a fox paw where before had been unmarked skin.

He dashes back over to Neil’s room.  Neil is scratching the back of his neck and craning to get a look at it in the mirror.  Andrew looks and rests his forehead on the back of Neil’s neck.  It’s a key.  Andrew is feeling again.  He’s not sure if it’s from his own heart or that of the boy in front of him, but he knows what the feeling is, it’s hope.