#i've no idea why im posting this!! or writing it!!!!

[xxcxelum]

MOURN NOT FOR ICARUS~

ABOUT: very long, 8562 words

STORY: retelling of the greek myth with an addition to the end

WARNINGS: i mean i guess he dies lol

A/N: i wrote this almost a year ago but i've mentioned it a few times and people said i should post it so im posting it on my writing blog instead of my main.

There was a bird out the window. Icarus could not identify it, for he had never received formal education. However it was small. Each feather on its wings varied in different shades of brown, and it had a black face. Icarus watched as it flapped its beautiful wings, so gracefully flying across the view outside, and delicately landed atop a tall mountainside tree. The small bird did not have a nest in the tree. It only landed on a shaky branch and looked out at the scene below.

Icarus understood why the gentle creature simply perched itself there. He himself was perched at the windowsill, staring out at the ocean below. He found the rhythm of the waves mesmerizing. But more interesting than the movements of the water was what laid below. The tower in which Icarus and his father were trapped in was, though an unfortunate circumstance, built at the edge of a mountain. He could see the sea lapping onto the bottom of the cliff. It was hard not to appreciate the natural beauty of the sight. 

Ahead, at the horizon, were more rocks and mountains, more islands. King Minos has imprisoned both Icarus and Daedalus on the island of Crete. After what his father had done, Icarus didn’t see the punishment fit, especially as he had nothing to do with it. Yet there he was, sitting in the tower, admiring the cities from behind a window that would mean certain death if he leaned only a little closer.

“Icarus,” his father’s voice spoke from behind him. The young boy turned around quickly at the call of his name. He was met with the sight of Daedalus working with a collection of feathers and wax, an already agreed upon method to get themselves out of there. “Help me with these wings.”

He was quick to do as he was told, glancing back at the view and the bird only once more before retreating from the windowsill. “Yes, father.” Icarus took those few steps closer to the center of the room, though it wasn’t far since the room was small. 

The surrounding walls were old and adorned with nothing but dust and the slight growing of moss between the stones. Even the floor was empty, for there was no reason for King Minos to provide the prisoners with anything other than what was needed to fulfill basic needs, which he classified as food and water. Even those were given sparingly. 

Daedalus sat on the ground leaning over the incomplete wings. The frame was already completed, made of materials that Icarus couldn’t quite recognize. He had never been much of an inventor like his father, but although he never took interest in it, he always found it fascinating to watch. His eyes followed his Daedalus’ weathered hands as they bent the wire frame, preparing the wax and feathers. There were leather straps on either side, presumably for their arms when they wore the wings. 

Icarus stepped closer and kneeled next to his father. Daedalus said nothing at first, holding the frame out in front of him and assessing his work. Then, with a nod of self-confirmation, he turned to Icarus. “No,” he told the boy when he tried to touch the wire. “Stand up, son. And put your arms out. I must add the feathers, but I cannot do so with the wings on the floor.” 

That statement made Icarus’ eyes brighten. He was already excited to fly; he’d been looking forward to it since his father first introduced the idea of it to him months ago. He knew that was the day that it was finally going to happen, the day they were finally going to free themselves from their prison, but now it was becoming more real. Once he had his wings on, all Daedalus had to do was put on his own and they would be able to jump from the window without falling to their deaths. 

So, doing as he was told, Icarus stood up and opened his arms. He watched in awe as Daedalus carefully slid the straps of the wings over his arms, the leather cool and smooth against his skin. Icarus hadn’t noticed another strap that was placed upon his torso, attaching the frame to his back. 

He could not tell Daedalus’ emotions as he did this, for his face was expressionless, focused solely on not breaking the wings. However once he finished, Daedalus stepped a few steps back as if to admire his creation. 

Icarus turned his neck to look at either arm, which were weighed down only slightly by the metal frame attached to them. Though the feathers weren’t done being added, he still smiled. He was only getting closer to the moment of inevitable freedom. 

The boy smiled at the thought, and at the wings themselves. Even if they were not finished, and even if he was not one to build such things, he did admire them almost as much as his father did. They were carefully constructed, delicate but strong so that it would be able to support his weight. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, one of genuine joy and excitement. 

“I look like a bird, father,” Icarus laughed. It was a small observation, a comparison that made him smile wider. Daedalus’ face had been more critical as he had been examining the wings and how they looked on his son, trying to figure out the best way to attach the feathers, but his gaze softened at the childlike curiosity that came from Icarus. Daedalus’ eyes moved from the frame on the boy’s small body and met Icarus’ eyes, a small smile of his own growing on his face. 

“Yes, I suppose you do.” With a nod of approval, Daedalus then decided to begin with the feathers. Icarus continued to admire the wings on his back, waving his arms up and down until his father told him to stop before they broke. Then, Daedalus started working. 

He had planned this for a while, but had to be careful as he worked to make sure that everything was done exactly and precisely as it should. He developed a technique of dipping the feathers into wax and carefully placing them on the wired frame of the wings. It took much patience and standing still, which was not easy for a young Icarus. Icarus had been standing there with his arms out for too long, and he was getting restless. Daedalus noticed this and decided to talk to his son in order to distract him from moving too much. 

“Do you remember what I’ve told you about flying?” Daedalus asked softly as he worked. He was standing behind him, so Icarus stared out the window as he answered. Icarus noticed the bird was still there. 

“Yes, you said that we must be careful,” Icarus replied. “You said that the wings are strong, but not perfect.” Daedalus nodded as he placed another feather on the wings. He was getting closer to finishing. 

“And what must we do to be careful?” He pushed, wanting to ensure that Icarus knew what was needed to be safe while flying. Icarus sighed, as he had been warned many times of what to do, even before that day. Daedalus had the idea for so long that he had been explaining the dangers to Icarus far before the wings were close to being constructed. 

“Do not fly too high or too low,” the boy spoke, echoing what he’d heard time and time before.

“That’s right. Because too high and the sun will melt the wax, and too low and the water from the sea will dampen the feathers. We do not wish for the wings to break.” 

Icarus knew this. He’d been told this plenty of times. Daedalus also understood that the repetition of these rules were most likely an annoyance to Icarus, but he still felt the need to reiterate them. Icarus had always had a sense of curiosity, a look of awe at everything his eyes perceived. He was inquisitive. Sure, Daedalus admired that; he was glad that his son had at least inherited something from him, if not his interest in inventing. But he knew how Icarus could be, and knew that no matter how many times he reminded him, a small part of Icarus would still want to explore the sky. Daedalus had to do his best to emphasize the danger to his son. 

However the boy only found it irritating. Icarus knew what to do and knew that if he went too high or too low then the wings would break. It was obvious to him that he wouldn’t be so reckless as to put himself in danger like that, so he didn’t appreciate Daedalus saying the same thing over and over. Yet deep down, Icarus knew that his father only cared for him and wanted him to be safe. So he tried not to let it bother him too much, and to appreciate the love from his father. 

Daedalus continued for what was a little under half an hour until he finally finished the wings. When he told him that he was completed, Icarus practically jumped up, though he was already standing. Icarus’ smile only grew wider as he spread his arms out and looked at the wings. 

He didn’t know where Daedalus had gotten the feathers, he only knew that he had been collecting them for a while. So Icarus didn’t know which bird they belonged to, however they were a light tan color, almost an off white. Though they weren’t the right shade of brown, he couldn’t help but compare the wings to those of the bird out the window. It was a bird that he had been seeing a lot, though he wasn’t sure if it was the same one each time or simply the same species. Either way, his mind kept returning to the bird as he thought himself to be similar. 

Icarus’ excitement was palpable. He laughed as he lifted his arms up and down, mimicking a flapping motion. They were a bit heavier now, though not by much. The feathers were beautiful when they were all pressed together by wax, and he couldn’t even see the frame anymore. 

Daedalus looked pleased, not only to see the wings completed, but also to see his son so eager to fly. But of course before they could fly, he had to get his wings on and make them. Daedalus had started a bit on his own before, just to see if it was possible to do while someone wasn’t wearing them, but decided it might be best if someone else were to do it. However he couldn’t let Icarus put them on as he attached the feathers because Icarus was already wearing his pair. So Daedalus had to ever so carefully use the wax, like before, to put the feathers on his own wings. 

But that wouldn’t work forever. Eventually, he got to a point where the wings wouldn’t balance somewhere on their own, so he had to put them on and asked Icarus to help him with the last few feathers. 

Of course Icarus was more than willing to help. He wanted to be able to feel important, to feel like he was actually doing something useful and aiding their escape rather than just standing there and waiting impatiently for his father to have his wings ready to fly. 

Icarus quickly went to stand behind his father, who had already put the almost-done wings on his back, and did as he was directed to finish them. He tried to imitate the movements of Daedalus in the way that he had been using wax to attach the feathers to the wings’ frame. As he spoke he worked, rambling mostly out of anticipation. 

“You know, father, when we escape, the first thing I want to do is eat a proper meal. It’s been far too long since we’ve had that opportunity. Actually, maybe I will drink cleaner water first. That is a smarter decision.” Daedalus only listened with an amused smile on his face as his son spoke. “Perhaps the first thing I will eat is an olive.” 

That made his father chuckle. “An olive? Is that so?” 

Icarus nodded, placing another wax-dipped feather on the wings. “Yes, an olive. I like olives. I haven’t had one since we’ve been imprisoned.”

“Yes, well, the olive tree is the sacred plant of goddess Athena,” he explained, wording things carefully so as to not upset the deity. “And I will tell you, humbly of course, that my genius for inventing and such was a blessing from the goddess of wisdom herself.” That made Icarus’ eyes widen. He hadn’t known that. “So, as my son, perhaps she will favor you and give you the best olive.” 

The young boy grinned. It was new information to him that his father was blessed by a goddess, let alone one as powerful as Athena. And the idea that she would favor him as well was exhilarating, even if it only resulted in a single, well-tasting olive. 

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime to the impatient Icarus, but couldn’t have been more than an hour, they were finished. Icarus placed the last feather on his father’s wings, and Daedalus checked his own and his son’s to make sure they were intact and in the right condition to fly. Icarus, though not saying anything about it, was proud of himself for managing to finish Daedalus’ wings for him, even if the job had been relatively small. Just as he wanted, he felt important, he felt useful.

And now the time had finally come for the wings themselves to be useful.

The moment he decided they were finished, Daedalus got straight to the point. “We must be quick, Icarus,” he told his son. “I do not know how much time we have.” They both knew that he didn’t mean time left in the day; the sun, shining in all its glory, was still directly above them in the sky. However it was King Minos, their captor, who they feared. He did not enter their prison often, almost no one did, but those who were meant to feed them or check on them would come at arbitrary intervals. At any second could someone enter and discover their plan for escape. If that happened, there would certainly be punishments- punishments that Daedalus did not want Icarus to have to live through.

Icarus only nodded, understanding what his father was thinking. He waited for further instruction, but already knew that their next move was going to be: fly.

Daedalus stepped closer to the window starting by simply looking out and assessing the view, noting the height at which they were at and how if the wings were to break or malfunction, they would not be able to survive the fall. Especially not if they landed in the water. He took a deep breath and turned back to Icarus, who had also been looking out the window eagerly. 

“I know I have told you countless times before,” Daedalus began once more, wanting to stress as much as possible the dangers to his son. “But you will stay by me. When we jump out this window, give yourself a couple of seconds for the wings to begin gliding; do not panic if you feel you are to fall because you will not fall.” Icarus let out a sigh of irritation, but Daedalus continued. “And you will stay behind me as we fly. As I’ve said, do not go too high, as the sun will melt the wax, and do not go too low, as the water will dampen the feathers. Do you understand?” 

Daedalus knew that Icarus understood. He knew how much the boy cared about himself. He knew that he would never do something so reckless as to risk his life, he knew that. Icarus had so much to look forward to in his life; he was young and had much potential. Even if he wasn’t aware of it himself, Daedalus knew that the young boy had so much of his life ahead of him. He would never do something to lose that. 

“Yes, father.” 

For a few moments, their eyes were met. They both were aware of the risk they were about to take, of how much danger they were putting themselves in. Even if Icarus did as he was told, and even if Daedalus was so sure of his wings, there was always a chance that things would go wrong. Not just the possibility of a flaw in the making of the wings, but also the looming possibility that the gods themselves would interfere. 

Zeus was the god of the sky. If he wasn’t happy with them in his domain, he could easily strike them down before they even made it to the next island. Daedalus knew this. That was a risk he was willing to take. 

He nodded, and then broke eye contact with his son. 

One last time, Icarus looked around the small room that had been their unwelcome home for too long. The cold stone walls and floor. The furnishings, or lack thereof. The damp scent. He was relieved to be leaving, to have the smell of moss overgrowth replaced by that of the ocean. Not only relieved but, of course, excited. He took a deep breath and turned back to the window. The bird was still there, sitting out on the tree. But when it suddenly got up and flew away, Icarus no longer watched it in jealousy, for he knew that at last he would get to do the same. 

 Daedalus took the final moment before their escape to say a prayer. He prayed to Zeus, wishing for the king of the gods to grant them safe passing over his skies. They were not out of Zeus’ favor, the father and son, but not necessarily within it, either. And since the gods didn’t simply reply to favors like that so quickly, there was nothing more they could do in that moment than pray and hope he was in a good mood that day. 

Then, that was it. There was nothing else. No more wings to finish, no more rules to reiterate, no more prayers to be said. They had done everything part of their plan but one. There was only one thing for them to do, and it was jump out that window and finally, finally, be free. 

No words were exchanged between the two of them, only another small nod of acknowledgment, as Daedalus took the initiative to step up to the windowsill first. If the wings wouldn’t work, he told himself, he wanted to be the one to find out. Not Icarus. 

Icarus watched, his impatience only growing, as his father carefully climbed into the small window. He had to be careful in how he fit himself in it, so that the wings would fit as well and not be squished in the cramped space. Icarus let himself take a few steps closer, too. Because the moment Daedalus took off, it was only a matter of seconds until he would have to follow. 

The man did not look back to see Icarus’ reaction. He didn’t want the boy to realize the fear in his eyes. He didn’t want him to notice the shaking in his hands as he got so close to the edge, closer than he ever would, because normally that close would mean death. But this was not normal. They had wings, and they would fly.

“Go.”

That was the only warning Icarus had that his father had jumped. It took him longer than it should have for him to actually process what he’d just watched: his father jumping out of a window. Yes, there were wings, but for a few seconds, it simply appeared that he had fallen. He was now alone in the tower. There really was no turning back.

When he snapped back to the present, Icarus rushed over to the window and tried not to focus on how high up he was, how he couldn’t find Daedalus in the sky at first glance, how small everything was below. He forced himself to take a deep breath, climbed into the windowsill, and closed his eyes, holding his breath as he jumped.

Icarus was falling. 

That was the first and only thing he could register. He didn’t open his eyes, didn’t grant himself the horror of seeing how fast he was falling towards the ground. He knew the wings would work, Daedalus had warned him that it would take a few seconds before they actually began to glide. But those few seconds were terrifying. 

Icarus could hear his heartbeat in his ears, almost drowned out by the wind rushing past him. He could also feel that wind, through his hair, through his entire body. He felt the disorientation of tumbling, his stomach turning, heart pounding, breath taken from the shock of the moment. Panic settled in- why wasn’t he flying? He was supposed to fly. The wings clung to him, feeling more like dead weight than anything else. They weren’t working, he thought. They weren’t working, they weren’t working, they weren’t-

As he fell, Icarus suddenly felt a change. A subtle resistance to the pull of gravity. The wind slowly stopped rushing past him, and as it slowed down he reminded himself to spread his arms out even more. His eyes were still squeezed shut, but he forced himself to open them once the falling had slowed.

Icarus was flying.

He was flying like the bird he’d been watching enviously for far too long. He could no longer feel the wind rushing past him, but as the breeze picked up, he felt he was part of the wind. With his eyes open now, Icarus allowed himself to look down with no fear. He was not scared anymore. He was thrilled.

The view below was even better from the sky itself than from the window. He could actually see the rest of the town to his right, which he hadn’t been able to see from the tower. There were homes, buildings, the little ants below he realized were people, and trees- olive trees. He smiled at that. Not only at that but the fact that he was flying. He was doing it, he was finally doing it! This was the most amazing moment of his life. 

Directly below him was the sea. It was a beautiful combination of green and blue and even white with the foam from the waves. Above him was the sky, the clear sky. There were no clouds, only the bright, brilliant sun against the blue above. 

But, of course, he could never get too close to either of them.

Icarus shifted his focus. He had to find his father and follow him, as he’d been instructed. He lifted his head from admiring the sights to looking about the sky around him, letting out a breathless sigh of relief when he saw Daedalus several feet ahead of him. The man was facing him, too, as if they’d been searching for each other.

It was a strange sight, seeing Daedalus flying. The wings on his back looked so gentle, and he knew how delicate they were. They were strong, however, clearly enough to carry the large man. They looked like they didn’t quite belong on Daedalus. In a way, they almost made him look like an angel.

Icarus chuckled to himself at that thought, though it was probably a bit more animated than usual since he was already experiencing so much joy. He wondered if he, too, looked like an angel.

The father and son were far apart, but the moment their eyes met there was an unspoken understanding. Even if they couldn’t quite make out the other’s expression, even if there was no way they’d be able to hear the other if they actually spoke, they could tell how the other felt. Daedalus let himself smile at the complete, genuine joy his son was exuding. Then, making sure that Icarus was still going the right direction with him, he turned away and focused himself on flying towards the nearest island that was not the one they’d just escaped from. He could see it in the distance, not much further. They’d just have to keep going on the straight path, and they’d be there soon enough.

Icarus knew that this was the goal, to get to another island and be free. Drink fresh water, eat an olive, whatever they wanted to do. And seeing the island, so close yet so far, was only making it more exciting. 

For a long while, they simply flew. It only took Icarus a couple minutes to get the reins of the wings and figure them out. He quickly taught himself how to turn either direction, how to angle himself upwards or downwards. But he didn’t use that, of course, other than where he had to in order to direct himself in the right direction after Daedalus. He stayed close behind his father as they flew together, feeling the wind beneath his arms and breathing in the air, salty from the ocean below. 

It was then, in experimenting with the mechanics and controls of the wings, that Icarus made his mistake.

He began carefully, still heeding the warnings that Daedalus had given him. Icarus let himself glide lower, closer and closer to the water’s surface. It was gradual and considerate, not to put himself in danger. He knew the risks of getting too close, he knew that he should just stay directly behind his father. But he could still see Daedalus from where he was, a little below him now, and Daedalus was not looking back anymore. So as long as he continued to be careful, he could test the limits of the wings without them breaking. Or so he thought. 

Icarus slowly descended lower. It was almost that same feeling of free falling before, but this time much more controlled. There was not a single ounce of panic in him as he got closer to the water. The wind was rushing past him again, making it all the more exhilarating. Icarus was careful to spread the wings out as much as he could and use them the right way as to not lose control. 

When he got close enough, he could feel the water on himself. He was just low enough so that he wasn’t touching the ocean, but he could see it right there, right in front of him. The greens, the blues, the whites, the shining reflection of the sun. He could feel the cool droplets of water against his bare arms, too caught up in the pure delight of the moment to realize that the wings were being wet by the water, too.

Icarus was laughing. He was smiling. He was happier in that moment than he had ever been in his whole life. After so long being imprisoned, he felt free. This moment, being by the water, was more freedom than he could have ever imagined. He didn’t want it to end; he wanted that moment to last forever. He wished he could be suspended in time, always feeling such liberation and elation. 

Since that wish was impossible, he decided to take it a step further. 

He was already taking a major risk by allowing himself to get so close to the sea. He’d been told exactly not to do that. Icarus respected his father, loved his father, and would never intentionally go against him. But the lure of it all was too big. The feeling he got from it all was indescribable. He felt invincible. So far, Zeus had accepted their prayer for mercy in his realm and was allowing them safe passage. Maybe, Icarus dared to hope, Zeus was allowing him this moment. Maybe he was letting him risk the dangers because he understood. 

The king of Olympus was not an understanding god. But Icarus didn’t know that.

Icarus allowed himself another deep breath, breathing in the salt from the ocean, taking in the reality of the moment, before swooping back up to meet the same level as his father in the sky. Daedalus seemed not to have noticed that Icarus had done such an unsafe thing, and was continuing to fly. 

Once he was back where he was supposed to have been all along, Icarus only flew straight ahead for a minute or so until he just couldn’t resist the temptation of something different this time- not the sea, but the sun. 

Icarus looked up. If he had already gone too low without the wings being ruined, he could go a bit higher, right? Perhaps Daedalus had just been underestimating the strength of his wings. If he really had been blessed by Athena, surely they would be able to withstand a little heat from the sun. They’d survived the water, so he was certain that they’d survive the sun, too. 

So he took that risk and flew up. By this point, he had so much control over the wings, had figured out the small details with such perfection in such little time, that he knew how to raise himself higher and higher, steadily moving himself up into the sky. 

Daedalus still did not notice. He had made the mistake of trusting that his son would never be so reckless, would never be so ignorant to his own warnings. He did not look back and see that Icarus was no longer behind him. He did not know that Icarus was in fact getting so distracted and off-path that he could not even see Daedalus in the sky anymore. He did not realize that Icarus had been blinded in the most literal sense by his desires. If he had noticed, maybe he would have been able to do something to save him from himself.

Icarus, on the other hand, was relieved that his father did not realize. He knew that it would only anger him. So he could not say why he was doing it, why he was getting higher, why he was allowing himself the pleasure of attempting to reach the sun itself. It was not that he wanted to disobey his father. He did not want to go against his orders. He only wanted to have fun, and fun did he have. 

He was carried away by the moment, not realizing what he was really doing. Icarus just kept getting higher and higher, closer and closer to the sun, farther and farther from Daedalus, who remained oblivious. Icarus’ laughing had restarted again, the smiling on his face growing impossibly wider. He thought he had felt good close to the water; this was even better. The bigger the clouds and sun looked above him, the smaller everything else looked below him. He was soon able to actually feel the heat of the sun on his skin, more than one did on the ground. He could feel it on his face, like that of the flame of a candle. Warm and inviting, friendly, egging him on to get closer, convincing him that no harm could be done. He was having too much fun, being too foolish that he actually believed it. 

It stayed that way, all fun and entertaining. The pull of the sun was so incicing. The thrill of the flying itself was too great. The feeling of it all was the best thing he had ever experienced, the best high--to the most exact meaning--that he knew could ever be achieved. Icarus was, in that moment, the closest any mortal had ever been to the sun, the highest anyone had ever been in the sky. 

Icarus was the closest any mortal had been to the gods.

And he felt like a god. He felt invincible, infallible, strong, powerful, he felt unstoppable. He felt like he had become that bird that he had admired. He felt like he could fly anywhere, do anything, touch the sky. That was exactly what his mind was set on doing. 

Things didn’t change when Icarus began to smell something off. It wasn’t the smell of the ocean- no, that was long gone. He’d gone far too high for that. It was a smell that was accompanied by the sensation of something hot against his skin. Something other than the heat of the sun itself. He was so intoxicated by the pure feeling of euphoria that it took him longer than it should have for him to realize that the feeling of heat and the scent that he couldn’t put his finger on was actually coming from the wings. 

The sun was melting the wax, just as Daedalus had warned. 

Icarus didn’t stop when he felt this. He was still consumed by that sense of power and god-likeness. He didn’t want to stop, regardless of the wings melting.

Perhaps he realized that it was too late for him by then. Perhaps he realized that he was too far from the island to make it, he was flying over the middle of the ocean, not close enough to any to manage to glide himself to safety. Perhaps he realized that once the wings had begun to melt, there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps he realized that he was going to die. 

So there Icarus was, flying like a bird for the first and last time. He didn’t let himself come to terms with the fact that he was not going to get that one olive, the fact that he was not going to have any of the hopeful future that had been promised to him. He did not want to be overwhelmed by the reality that he was not going to get to apologize to Daedalus for disobeying. He only wanted to continue feeling the hot sun, not the hot wax. To feel that freedom one last time. 

In what he realized to be his final moments, he let himself close his eyes. He once again did not want to see how quick he may have been falling to the ground once the wax completely melted from the wings. 

Icarus imagined himself to be the stick of a candle, the wings to be the wick, and the sun to be the flame. For a small time, the wick would burn. The candle would be alight, shining brilliantly, lighting up the space for as long as the wick could last. Until inevitably, the wick reached its end, the candle burning out. Until the wick finally died, reaching the stick of the candle and engulfing that, too, in flames. 

His laughter was the only sound echoing through the skies as he fell, the only thing alerting Daedalus that his son had flown too close to the sun and paid the price. 

***

His mind was still swimming. He could barely remember what happened, and didn't know where he was. He sat up but kept his eyes closed. But wait, he thought, that was wrong. He shouldn’t have been able to sit up. He was supposed to be dead. He shouldn’t even have a body anymore, he shouldn’t be anywhere other than the Underworld. But light was seeping through his closed eyelids, and he knew with absolute certainty that he was not in the dark depths of the Underworld. 

But then again, he’d also been certain that the wings would not melt under the sun.

Icarus reached a hand up to his forehead to try to stop it from pounding, almost losing his balance in the process. He took a deep breath, surprised that he had the capability to breathe. This was all wrong;  he had died. He remembered the wings breaking entirely and sending him crashing into the ocean below. He remembered death; he remembered the moments before it, too, when he’d accepted his fate. Where was he now, and why did he feel alive again? “Icarus.” The voice that spoke his name was one of power. It was deep, serious, demanding respect. It made his name no longer just a name, but a command. He forced himself to look up and open his eyes, squinting them at the figure before him.

It was a man, a man who somehow carried youthful features yet an expression weighed down by years upon years. A man who was completely ageless, both extremely old and extremely young. The man had blonde hair and wore a perfectly white toga that managed to still look bright white against his pale skin. He was muscular and had a strong jawline. Everything about the man was… perfect. It took Icarus a few moments to realize that the man was watching him emotionlessly with glowing golden eyes. Then he realized that all of him was glowing, he was shining like the sun.

Icarus realized that the man before him was no man at all. He was a god.

When the realization set in, Icarus forced himself to stand up, ignoring the dizziness. Maybe it was a bad decision of him to try to stand up in front of someone so powerful, he should probably have kneeled, but being sprawled across the ground half sat up was probably not very respectful, either. When Icarus stood, he let himself look around and noticed that their surroundings were essentially all white. They must have been in the sky somewhere, in the clouds. 

Icarus was so overwhelmed by the situation, not comprehending it all. He didn’t really think when he pointed his finger at the god--something he immediately regretted--and blurted the obvious:

“You’re Apollo.”

Then he quickly realized his error and tried to correct it with a sloppy bow. No one had ever taught the young Icarus how to act in front of a god. Thankfully, Apollo was not upset or insulted by the boy’s actions, though his expression remained blank. Icarus could not tell what he was thinking, and for some reason it made him anxious.

Apollo only nodded. “Indeed I am.” He watched as Icarus straightened up from his bow. Icarus felt like he was being scrutinized under the god’s divine eyes, and didn’t know whether to meet them or to look away. He was completely unprepared for this moment. “Take off those wings.”

Icarus hadn’t realized that the wings were still attached to him. They’d somehow stayed to his form into the afterlife- or at least he assumed this was the afterlife. He had no idea what was happening. Though now, the wings were mutilated. The wax had melted not entirely, but enough so they could not fly any longer. An entire part of the back was waxless, and everywhere else was either half-melted or had feathers missing. The sad remnants were clinging desperately to the now weakened frame. He obeyed Apollo’s order immediately and began fumbling to slide the leather straps off of him.

The wings fell soundlessly to the floor, which Icarus still didn’t know what that floor was. He then looked back up at Apollo, who still only stared at him. Icarus stood there uncomfortably for a few seconds, and then took the silent stare as his cue to step away. Once he did, Apollo stepped forward, leaned down, and picked up the wings, examining them with a certain detached interest. 

“Fine craftsmanship,” the god noted, looking at the slightly-terrified Icarus again. “I assume your father made them?” The boy nodded quickly. 

“Yes, he did. And I helped. Well, not with this pair but with his.” He then decided he should have left the answer at yes and not given unnecessary explanation. 

He really was a mess. 

Apollo nodded. He seemed to still not have been offended by Icarus’ unrehearsed nature. He simply spoke to him as if he were any other man, rather than a child who was both in awe and fear of the powerful being before him. Apollo turned his attention back to the wings, plucking a single feather off of them before dropping them back to the ground. Icarus cringed as he dropped them so carelessly but was afraid to say anything about it. 

“Do you know why you are here, Icarus?” The speaking of his name once again made him nervous, as Icarus felt so minor and insignificant in the presence of a god. His name didn’t deserve to be said by Apollo’s mouth; he didn’t deserve to be speaking with him. 

Icarus hesitated before answering. “Because… I died. But, forgive me if I am wrong, but this is not the Underworld.” Apollo waved his hand dismissively. 

“No, no, of course not. I would never go down there. It’s quite the opposite of my realm.”

His realm. It took Icarus a few moments to think about that. Apollo was the god of many things, he knew that. Medicine, prophecy, music, archery, the sun-

Oh. 

Icarus suddenly knew why he was there. His heart dropped to his stomach. He had been trying to do the impossible, to touch the sun. Daedalus had only been considering the god of the sky when deciding to pray for safe passage while flying. They hadn’t thought about the other gods who ruled the above, too. Had he upset Apollo with his recklessness?

“No, Icarus, you are not in the Underworld,” Apollo continued. “I stopped you on your path to Hades; I wanted to speak with you. Mortals die every minute, you see, but it’s not everyday I find one like you.” 

Icarus swallowed hard. The way Apollo spoke, he still couldn’t tell what he was thinking about this whole situation. He couldn’t tell if he really had offended him or not, and it was nerve-wracking. 

“I- I apologize if I insulted you, Lord Apollo,” he began carefully, the title sounding too formal for his young mouth. “I had no intention to.” Apollo shook his head. 

“Do not apologize. To me, at least. I am not insulted. If anything I am flattered, really. Most mortals fear the sun; they fear me. You, however, seem to have no such opinion. It was quite entertaining to watch, I will admit. Such courage you have for such a young boy. I must ask, Icarus, why do you not fear me?”

Icarus was taken aback by that statement. He had flattered the god? By being an idiot. It didn’t make any sense. Apollo should have been offended, he should have wanted to torture or hurt Icarus in his afterlife after he attempted to go beyond the mortal realm. But… he didn’t. Icarus didn’t know how to react. 

And the mention of his father, the reminder that he had gone directly against what Daedalus had instructed, hit Icarus like a punch to the gut. A reminder that he had disobeyed and gotten himself killed for it. He didn’t want to think about Daedalus just then; he wanted to figure out why and how he’d managed to flatter the god of the sun. Icarus took a deep breath. 

“I do fear you,” he admitted plainly. He didn’t know what more to say. 

Apollo was responding so casually that it made Icarus uncomfortable. He chuckled at his response, which didn’t make him feel any better- though Icarus had to admit that the sound of godly laughter was beautiful. “As you should, I suppose. But if you fear me, and I assume you must also fear death, why would you make such a rash decision and attempt to reach my sun?”

Icarus still was struggling to find the right words. He didn’t know how to explain his curiosity, it really had been an indescribable experience. The joy he’d felt in that moment was too much to ignore, he’d simply wanted to continue to go higher and higher. The skies had felt so limitless, the sun had felt so close. The consequences were unimportant as he flew, but now he was faced directly with them. 

“Because I wished to feel free.” That was the only explanation that Icarus could manage. Apollo raised an eyebrow.

“Free? You would have had more freedom if you hadn’t died, would you not? You gave up the rest of your life for a small taste of freedom?” 

Icarus only nodded. He was still at a loss for words, still trying to comprehend the entire interaction with someone so powerful. Apollo sighed, looking down at the small feather in his hand that he had taken from the wings. 

“Mortals are interesting creatures,” he explained. “They are born, live for so little, then die. But they find so much more to their lives. They’re born nobody, yet believe that they can become something great. It’s almost saddening to watch this endless cycle of life and death. To see the excitement in their eyes as they embark on a journey that will inevitably lead to their end. I don’t understand how you do it, how you keep yourselves so optimistic when you know that in half a century, more or less, you will be nothing more than a memory to the rest of the world.

“Mortals value their lives, no matter how insignificant. So that is why you interest me. You want to live long, you want to be important, yet you let yourself come to an early end for the sake of something as small and temporary as a fleeting feeling.” 

The god took a deep breath, running a finger down the soft feather, and looked back up at Icarus. The boy was only watching him, listening to an immortal’s perspective of mortality. If Icarus hadn’t been able to find the right words before, he was completely lost then. 

Icarus met Apollo’s gaze. The immortal was looking at him with something in his golden eyes that was noticeable now: a look of sympathy. Compassion. Perhaps even pity. 

He didn’t think a god to be capable of such human emotions. 

“I mean… I just…” Icarus tried to provide the god some explanation to his unexplainable actions. Apollo was watching him with interest as he spoke, the emotion in his expression barely there yet still noticeable. Icarus spoke slowly, his mind still turning as he explained. “I didn’t want to die. I wasn’t thinking. I had been trapped for so long… I got carried away by it all. I- I felt free, like I wanted, and I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to make that feeling last forever.” 

Apollo studied the boy before him. He took note of his imperfections, his mortality. Even in death, Icarus’ hair had been ruffled from flight. His arms were red, presumably as a result of the wax melting off the wings and onto his skin. His clothes were tattered. The look on his face was one of fear and vulnerability. Apollo was used to mortals looking at him with that sense of terror, but this was somehow different. Something about Icarus’ youth and innocence. Apollo still didn’t understand how humans worked, how they managed to make such careless decisions, how they grappled with their inescapable death. But watching this young man try to explain himself, he thought that maybe once he could at least understand. 

“You are a fascinating mortal, Icarus. That is a compliment coming from me.”

Icarus swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

This entire conversation was unnerving, but he sensed a slight change in the god’s demeanor, perhaps a tinge of compassion. And he’d just been complimented by Apollo himself. He never thought that flying too close to the sun and doing exactly the opposite of what his father told him to do would lead to a compliment from one of the most powerful beings in the universe. But of the many things he was still unsure of in that moment, there was one question that came to mind:

“What will happen to me now?” He was almost afraid to ask. 

“Well,” Apollo began. “You will go to the Underworld and be judged, as all mortals are. That will determine where you spend the rest of eternity. You are not receiving any special treatment in your afterlife; I simply wanted to speak with you. And spoken with you I have.” Icarus was silent for a few moments, but then nodded slowly. But before he could give a verbal response, Apollo spoke. “Your father will mourn you greatly.”

Icarus was once again taken aback by that. He couldn’t quite tell if that was simply the god stating the obvious, or if it was some sort of order or curse, and he was too afraid to ask. “Yes, I am aware.” But Apollo’s next words surprised him yet again.

“Do you wish for him to?” 

Icarus froze. He didn’t want Daedalus to be saddened by his death, but of course he would be. His son had died, after all. It only made sense for him to mourn the loss of his own blood, the boy he had so carefully raised and loved. The child who’d become his closest partner in life. He didn’t want his father to be in grief. 

“I wish for my father to be happy.” 

Apollo nodded thoughtfully. “Happiness. That is what you felt when you fell, correct? Daedalus will know that. He will know that you were happy.”

 Icarus’ eyes lit up. “You can do that?” He didn’t know if he would end up happy in the afterlife, or if he would receive punishment for being reckless. But at least in that moment, that small moment with Apollo, he was happy again. And Icarus knew that if Daedalus knew that, it would make him happy, too. Happiness was something neither of them had felt in so long. It was another feeling that had made the flight so intoxicating for Icarus.

“Yes,” Apollo said. “I can do many things.”

Then, before Icarus could express his gratitude, before he could say or do anything more, the entire moment shattered. Apollo disappeared, everything around them was gone. 

His conversation with the god was done. He was no longer in the in-between of life and death. Icarus was dead and would have to face the consequences of his actions. He would have to be judged, his eternal fate decided once and for all. 

But he would do all this with the knowledge that his father would know how he felt in those final moments. He would go to the Underworld knowing that he was happy then and now. He would enter the beginning of his afterlife knowing that eventually, Daedalus would get over the loss of his son. 

Icarus didn’t know what Apollo gained from that conversation. He didn’t understand why the god had taken such interest in him. But he did know one thing for certain:

He had died, yes, but he had felt freedom. He had found that feeling of happiness that had been missing for so long. Perhaps he had a small sense of remorse for his actions. If he hadn’t died, he would have been free with Daedalus, and they could have lived long lives together out of the tower that had confined them for so long. But in the end, he accepted his fate. He really was happy.

Because even if it killed him, he had touched the sun.

the writing above belongs to me. please do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own. © 2024 xxcxelum

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[pitter-patt-art]

Ace Attorney AU August (halfway progress update!)

Okay technically it's the 16th (lol, 17th by the time this is done) so a little over halfway actually, but still I thought since I haven't had anything finished to post the past few days this would be a fun alternative!

I've been going a little nuts (affectionate) over @augustwritingchallenge's AU-gust prompts list this year so August has been a wild ride (about 40k words of one, in fact. so far.) but seeing as I will get attached to even the jokiest of AU ideas instantly, I've completed* a whopping 5 whole fics of 16, lol. Considering the shortest of those is over 3k and the longest is over 12k, I think the problem with not finishing these in a timely manner is entirely on my verbose foolish thick skull, haha, but I'm still having a blast with it.

Here is my ao3 series where I'm posting!

And a rundown / progress report / quick teaser of all the AUs including those I've yet to finish, if anyone's interested:

(*by "completed" I should note two of the already posted fics are basically assuredly going to be continued past the challenge, but let's say "completed enough to post and be on theme")

1. Canon Divergence - complete - 4.5k words ("For the Murder of Mr. Wrong" link)

Mia POV, gen. What if Dahlia succeeded in poisoning Phoenix and framed Doug Swallow instead (and then Mia defended him in court)? Basically a 3-1 rewrite. Fun Fact: I only came up with this AU because before I even remembered AU-gust existed at all, I'd come up with like 4 totally separate AUs in which I poison Phoenix in various ways With Real Consequences because it amuses me, lol, but he survives all those other ones and I eventually realized I hadn't even considered straight up killing him off yet so I figured I should try it at least once, haha.

2. Colorless - complete 1st chapter - 3.2k words ("Grey Matters" link)

Phoenix POV (for 1st ch --prob alternating after), wrightworth. "You can't see color until the first time you touch your soulmate"-soulmate AU. 1st chapter is their first meeting as kids (skipping the class trial itself). Fun Fact(s): I really love a color soulmate AU! Big fan of the "only see the color of their eyes" type of one too but uhhh on top of that working better for things that have wild anime eye colors, you could not pay me enough to try to figure out what the HELL is going on with Ace Attorney eye colors at any given time lmfao. (Also--spoilers for what i haven't written yet but hey if you're here you earned it--this IS one of my very many "teehee what if i poison Phoenix just a smidge as a treat for me" fics. NOT my fault the man ATE GLASS. That's on him.)

3. Dark Academia - complete "1st chapter" - 4.4k words ("The Spirit of the Laws of Magic" link)

Mia POV, lanamia. Magical boarding school setting featuring corruption and missing-student conspiracies and a most likely overthought system of magic with hierarchies and prejudices in societal views of academic/formulaic vs folk/innate magic. Fun Fact: I really thought for SURE i was going to skip this day entirely, lol. (foolish.) I don't think i've actually ever personally read anything "dark academia", technically--so if this doesn't read EXACTLY that way, there you go, but i did my best. I also then thought I could live with keeping this vague but I accidentally thought about it too long so... plus at least two people on top of myself at this point have expressed interest in more of this and so I have some semi-concrete Plans™ now.

4. Zombie Apocalypse - conceptualized (but not started)

Concept: probably gen and Phoenix POV, but also because I'm me and they're them, at least a little bit wrightworth even if it isn't necessarily explicit in any meaningful way bc they are Not Normal about each other lol. A little sketchy on how much of an "AU" this counts for, since it could probably be argued to be canon compliant somehow, but basically just: Universe where they make a Pride and Prejudice and Zombies-type Steel Samurai reboot movie thing (featuring, you guessed it, zombies), and Miles comes over and forces Phoenix to watch it with him just to have someone to bitch about it at, and then during that time Maya blows her way into Phoenix's apartment as well with the exact same intentions except her "day job" isn't quite as time-sensitive-strict so she's already finished watching it earlier and knows all the spoilers. Honestly a good chance Phoenix and Pearl (who came with Maya) end up hiding out in the kitchen together to let Maya and Miles rile each other up in front of the TV, but I'm never exactly sure where they'll take me once I wind them up and set them loose on the page, so who knows. I also hadn't necessarily determined the exact time frame yet but for it to make sense as a reboot-type movie/special episode/whatever it probably should be 7yg-or-later so Trucy may or may not be there as well. (That said, in my struggles to complete an actually short one-shot, I probably shouldn't even include Pearl let alone Trucy, lol.) Fun Fact: I also thought I'd skip this day bc I'm not the biggest zombie guy in the world, and to be fair, I managed to do Way Less with it than the dark academia prompt so, yippie?

5. Chess Players - incomplete (currently 3k word WIP)

Miles POV, wrightworth. Miles is a chess grandmaster and back in Japanifornia for the upcoming world cup tournament, but his greatest challenge is actually to FINALLY best Franziska in their annual who-can-get-the-best-Christmas-gift competition. Luckily, he just so happened to hear of an artist who makes bespoke chess sets, so the plan is to get a custom board made for Franziska without her finding out. The plan is not to get trapped in a weird art collective labyrinth with some model-photographer named Cindy who keeps hitting on him but also happens to be protective of the artist he's there to see because "she and her boyfriend kinda-sorta owe him big time", but this is what he gets for coming here without doing any extra research into the artist besides seeing his work and hearing only "his name is White, or, eh, something like that, you know how those artist types are" from Mr. Amano. (AU where we replace law with chess and no I don't think Phoenix could necessarily hack it in the top-world-grandmasters-level of chess tournaments HOWEVER have you considered he DID go to art school so what if he just tries selling custom chess sets until somehow that reconnects him with Miles. Is that somehow a more insane plan than studying law? Maybe. Did Manfred still shoot Gregory but now it was over fucking chess? Maybe. Idk. But I did let Greg live this time at least!) Fun Fact: we can all DEFINITIVELY blame my lovely, terrible, very wonderful friend Ben (shameless friend plug! she's an outstanding writer and has some AA fics of her own too!! @kindlystrawberry on tumblr!!) for making a total joke about "well what about au where they make chess pieces instead" while i lamented not knowing enough about chess to write an actual match and spawning this ENTIRE concept. It is her fault. 100%. She is the guilty party. (I want to finish this one VERY BADLY. Save me.)

EVIDENCE!!!!! Guilty.

6. Reality Show - incomplete (currently 700 word WIP)

Phoenix (& Franziska) POV(s), background wrightworth wedding planning going on as set up but it's also definitely just one of my many excuses to set Phoenix and Franziska up as bitchy worsties who can't admit they enjoy each other's company and will cut you down if you suggest it as such. So far I've only written the quote "set-up" section which is in Phoenix's POV, but that was SUPPOSED to be like 5 paragraphs and cut away and then lead into my actual plan for the main body, which was to be in Franz's instead, so. This is very similar to the zombie one in that it's them watching reality tv instead of being contestants on a show (I don't personally like or watch a lot of reality tv so my creative well was somewhat dry on how to make that work) and then I accidentally thought about Phoenix and Franziska watching something just to judge and tear apart the decisions of every person on it and that was too fun to not consider further, haha. Basically the plan is just they get left alone together and don't know what to do with that and end up wine-drunk and making fun of some reality dating show of some kind and Miles and Trucy come back to them losing it together over something stupid and are like "......uh. what's happening." Fun Facts: I really love the thought experiment of Franziska somehow discovering how often Phoenix's internal dialogue/reads on situations and especially people can be So Bitchy And Judgey despite his affable complexion, and her unfortunately finding his opinions to SOMETIMES be somehow slightly okay. Moderately correct, even--occasionally. I know the section she follows you-as-Phoenix around in T&T is really not long at ALL, but I adore it. There's something about it that so badly makes me want to force them into proximity more (to both their chagrin, I'm sure).

7. Farm/Ranch - complete - 12k words ("Two Little Dickey Byrdes" link)

Gumshoe POV, gumbyrde (tho i still think dickeybyrde is a funnier ship name). 5+1 things--except more like maybe 7-or-8+1 to be honest--so it's more: over 5 times Dick and Maggey sit on a wall together and 1 time they find someone else there instead. AKA: Dick runs his family's small farm (think fantasy farm like in a farming sim or maybe horse girl novel type of thing that has nothing to do with what a real farm is like lol don't worry about it) and Maggey starts working at the next farm over as the latest of her many odd jobs. Fun Fact: oh god this one got so far away from me. it was not supposed to be this long lmao. it's literally the elaborate set-up to a very silly Nursery-Rhyme-I-Didn't-Even-Know-About-Prior-To-This -based punchline!?! still, i was pleasantly surprised by how happy i was with this once it was done... two sittings and about 16 total hours later. haha).

8. Nomad - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Apollo (or possibly Klavier) POV, klapollo. Sort of Jove-Thalassa swap adjacent, but basically: AU where Jove survives the Khura'in fire but loses his memories for [contrived convince sake reasons]. (And also possibly loses some or all of his eyesight just to really go for the parallels?) Therefore: Jove and Apollo stay with Dhurke and Nahyuta and the Defiant Dragons for a time, while Jove recovers, but eventually they leave and head out on their own, just the two of them, and do the traveling musician thing, both because it's dangerous in Khura'in and Dhurke already canonically didn't want Apollo to get caught up in it and potentially get hurt to begin with and because with a functioning actual parent Apollo doesn't need to be taken in by him--and also Jove from what little we know seems like he prefers to be on the move and was already a world traveler anyhow, so even amnesiac maybe he gets a little antsy stuck in one place too long. And so like amnesiac Thalassa, Jove thusly becoming a renowned mysterious musician--and then Apollo, sweet tone deaf Apollo, becoming the sonager of all time (like a momager but...you get it) because he's not that into music but he IS into arguing for better conditions/making deals (contracts!! international legalese!! woohoo!!) with venues and promoters and stuff. And then--oops dang Lamioir still exists and now they have a meet-cute (2 electric bugaloo) (but by then it's later enough Trucy still exists because it will be a cold day in hell when I don't find a way to make her work) and they do music collabs or join up to form a group or whatever and OOPS this means now that Apollo and Jove are with Lamioir when The Gavinners / Klavier specifically meet her and get her to come to do the Guitar's Serenade concert eventually. And Apollo and Klavier ofc thusly also have a meet-cute and then talk and bond etc etc. AND THEN the au STOPS THERE and I DON'T think about how without Apollo Phoenix is totally getting convicted of Zak's murder because there's no way that trial works out as well for him with some other attorney and I also don't think about how reasonable it would then be that maybe Trucy ends up helping Valant with his work setting up the trick for the concert afterward on account of the one father in prison and the other being dead and having left behind a notarized confession clearing Valant's name of suspicion, etc. AND I DEFINITELY do not think about how i could then still so easily get everyone in one place at the concert for Turnabout Serenade and/or any possible funny Sibling (And Thalassa) Reveal that could happen i dont i dont i do not--

9. Accidental Baby Acquisition - conceptualized (not started)

Gen, possibly my weakest / least defined idea on this list, but basically: Phoenix kind of already lives this in canon, lol (insomuch as an 8yo counts as a baby) so I thought, well, how to take it a different direction, then? And I thought, I don't usually go for a Phoenix Fey kind of au because I personally really love the relationships he has with all the Feys as-is in canon and so it's not quite as funny to me as, say, a Miles Fey AU where like Misty and Gregory are married, or any of the ones in that bent, because I'm sorry but that's just SO funny (and sad, but mostly funny) any way you slice it--plus his NAME is RIGHT THERE mia-miles-maya he FITS--anyhow, that completely aside, there are just a lot of reasons I really love the platonic relationships the Feys already have with Phoenix and I don't think it NEEDS to be made specifically familial to still be so very important, y'know? BUT. That said. AU where Phoenix is idk abandoned as a baby or maybe his parents die young or something and it's like a Thing to leave babies at temples or churches or whatever, right? So like--Phoenix adopted by the Feys AU but only because the more i considered it the more i thought it would be WILD for him to literally know Maya her entire life, and it's fascinating to me to consider a Maya who ISN'T basically left all alone to her own devices (and Morgan's) and who has someone absolutely in her corner in the village the entire time even after Mia leaves (who isn't a baby when Mia leaves, love you tho Pearls), AND also and perhaps more importantly, the ships-passing-in-the-night-ness of a scene where, like: Morgan does something sketchy or whatever and Phoenix wants to keep Mia updated but for whatever reason decides to go down to the city and actually tell her in person and so he's waiting outside the courthouse or something (possibly part of or perhaps Most Of the reason he goes in person is because he knows her first courtroom trial is that day and he wants to see her + hear how it went) and when he gets there she's in a heated argument with some asshole in a fancy over-embellished jacket and once that guy leaves Phoenix is like "Sheesh, what's his problem?" You know???? And maybe he really would never even know!!!! Bc he grew up in Kurain!!!! And has no reason to care!!! About some random prosecutor who was mean to Mia!! Aaaah!!! So that, and on top of that, Diego would be there too ofc at that point, and I feel like he would ALSO be quite a funny interaction in this scenario. ("Wow, someone's popular, kitten, you have all sorts of guys waiting on a chance to talk to you, heh?" "Uh.--I'm sorry, WHAT did you just call her")

10. Enemies-to-Allies - incomplete (currently 370 word WIP)

Ema POV, faraskye. Cyberpunk AU where Lana is still under Gant's thumb and Ema, with no other way to stay close to her and getting rejected from any of the sorts of jobs she really wants to do, decides to just join the security force (or cyber police or w/e I decide to call it) and is tasked with hunting down the Yatagarasu, guerilla hacker supreme who is threatening the sanctity of the capitalist overlords. Except Ema's squad gets ambushed and she's captured and tied to a pole, and with her useless fop partner seemingly not coming to rescue her (if he even noticed her absence), she does some quick cost-benefit analysis and decides she didn't really like that job anyway and maybe there's another way she can get her sister back in her life. So she breaks free of her own handcuffs (which she definitely didn't modify into incidental ineffectiveness she's still testing for bugs) and helps fix the "Little Thief" device her captor seems to have broken despite how obviously valuable and impressive the tech is, and they eventually come to something of an agreement. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, and all that. Either Ema as the hardware-engineer one and Kay as the software-programming one as the two sides of the tech coin, or else Kay can just be like doing the physical sneaking kind of spy stuff only--or maybe she knows a little about software but not so much she's a pro the way she is with infiltration and such. Possibly toying with the idea Kay herself is just completely an android, but if not, I think she has some cybernetic cyborg things going on regardless. Possibly from or inspired by her father? I also like the idea that Gant did something maybe more drastic with regards to having dirt on Ema to get Lana to do his bidding--like maybe Ema has a whole cybernetic hand because instead of just her handprint on a leather jacket, Gant has some sicko jar with her entire hand in it in his office safe, or something. I don't know why this would be useful to him but it is certainly an image. I also find it funny if Miss Fingerprint Powder Enthusiast doesn't actually have any fingerprints of her own anymore somehow in this AU, lol.

11. Retail Worker - complete - 6.7k words ("The Bake Anything Boulangerie" link)

Apollo POV, gen. Phoenix gets a job at a bakery instead of the Borscht Bowl Club during the 7 year gap, and Apollo happens to stumble across it and ends up meeting the Wrights while he's still in high school. He becomes a regular at the bakery and is already close to them by the time "Shadi Smith's" murder comes around. And also, yes, sibling reveal right away--at least as soon as Phoenix realizes and can reveal it. As a treat. (Other reveals, though, I might put poor Apollo through on a delayed basis. Also as a treat, lmao, just not one for him.) Fun Fact: I'm being redundant bc this is also in my a/n, but, Baker Phoenix lives rent-free in my brain because Professor Layton vs Phoenix Wright was in fact the very first Ace Attorney game I ever played, technically, and Maya and Phoenix semi-brainwashed in that bakery was literally one of my first impressions of them. ........followed immediately by starting a let's play of Justice for All (which i watched through the first case, after which I was like oKAY fine maybe i DO need more context here, i should probably figure out what the actual first game is, and went back to start the series properly at the beginning hahaha). What do you MEAN i have a disproportionate fascination with amnesiac Phoenix, even if I have yet to finish and publish one of my myriad AUs that utilize stupid, unrealistic, plot convenient re-temporary amnesia?? Hm???? Idk what you're talking about. Also everyone who complains about 2-1 is wrong lmao it's objectively (okay subjectively is what i'm saying yes BUT objectively) such a funny place to start without knowing broad plot strokes, it's great. I both knew so much and absolutely shit-all nothing about Maya after PLvPW and 2-1, LMAO. god.

12. Animagus Wings (Joker) - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Miles POV, wrightworth. Angel/Demon AU, except I'm playing super fast and loose with the rules on that because all my knowledge of Christian-mythos comes from firstly and unknowingly the Chronicles of Narnia and more recently and cognizantly Lucifer (Netflix) and Good Omens. I know that's probably more or less what we're all doing with this kind of AU but still, I'm not even sure I want to refer to Heaven and Hell here, I'm kinda on the fence about maybe just keeping it all very vague? I also accidentally semi-worldbuilt more than i intended incidentally on account of "But Then How-Why Names If Angelic Creatures?" Format-wise it would semi-follow gomens s1 where it's hopping through some meetings between long stretches but also a kind of pre- and post- Fall type of thing? And potentially à la Lucifer becoming, like, these are My Mortal Humans and i will be Spending Time With Them, screw you celestial duties, I'm making my own Free Will, etc. And i mean i guess Lucifer is also a crime procedural lmao maybe they still solve crimes in the end too. Fun Fact: I didn't want to do the original prompt for several reasons, and sure fuck jkr is one of them but even before I knew about her I still wasn't really the biggest hp person in the first place? So i wouldn't know/don't remember at all the way it works without having to do the specific research and i...don't want to haha. Hence. And I know the prompt seems to be using it loosely / might just be borrowing the word and not actually referencing hp specifically but tbh either way human-animal shifter things just in general I can be somewhat picky about haha. (Okay okay plus full disclosure the ONLY idea I have for this sort of thing actually ties into my day-3-dark-academia-extended-au-verse and i COULD make my life simpler by just connecting the two days but Heh who would I be if I simplified things for myself... *sigh*) All that to say: I saw "wings" on the wild card list and I thought, ooh, well that's still sort of a related concept! Let's tag that one in! So it's still kind of day 12 prompt-adjacent, if you squint.

13. Found Footage - incomplete (planned/outlined)

Video Transcript POV? Is that a thing? Possibly capped by a little Phoenix POV (but i don't want that to get too long), wrightworth. Larry's new girlfriend of the month bakes weed brownies and Larry does not realize this and swings by the Wrights' apartment to beg some kind of help off Phoenix and forgets the whole tray there somehow (because it's Larry) and they leave to deal with Larry's thing and by the time they figure the brownies out, in some twist of fate Miles and Trucy have been hanging out (last minute babysitter/adult supervision? but she's at the very very least 14 or 15 here and most likely older, and Nick clearly isn't the most strict about like uhhh supervision in general lol sooo idk. he's helping her with a project or smth. it doesn't really actually matter; he's THERE, that's the important thing.) The point I'm very clearly getting at is they accidentally get incredibly high (not dangerously so because I'm not going that far haha but also, neither of them has actually been high before, so they are Affected) before Phoenix finds out what was in the brownies and tries to warn Trucy and hurry home to like, dispose of them or at least put a warning label on them or whatever, but he is too late lol. By a lot. Definitely an underage drugs tag on this bad boy because it's definitely sometime 18-or-earlier for Trucy, let alone 21. (idk about other places but as a Californian I can tell you Japanifornia "LA" could theoretically have it legalized at 21 for anyone (like alcohol) and 18 with Dr's permission--which Trucy definitely does not have in this AU lol.) Basically, Phoenix grabs Trucy's phone to get photo evidence so he can let them never live this down (after making sure they're okay lmao), but he ofc doesn't get technology so he doesn't realize he leaves the phone still recording when Trucy asks him for something / needs his help, so the recording just keeps going and captures a lot of tomfoolery and eventually some inebriated-to-Extremely-sober Feelings-Adjacent confessions (or maybe more like allusions). Idk, this was actually a fic I thought of before August and wanted to use as an excuse to try a Weird Format for fun, but then i saw this was a prompt on the list and...well. Fun Fact: Cannabis was legalized in California on November 8, 2016 (the first election I could vote in!!! ......uh, rip. lol. but yeah babey I helped legalize weed at least!! gotta remember the positives), which means it was legal right in time for Miles' case(s) / Turnabout Goodbyes!!! Yay!! I mean, I suppose that's genuinely seriously one way to try to mitigate nightmares and manage insomnia--not that I think Miles Edgeworth would ever deign stoop so low as to use an aid to manage his severe PTSD and trauma symptoms, psshaw, who do you take him for? (Get these people some help lol. They all need so much therapy.)

14. Princes & Princesses - conceptualized (not started)

So I've been reading a lot (a LOT) of isekai and/or revenge reincarnation romance fantasy manhwas lately (like, oh, too many, hahaha. they're quite good and they're VERY popular in webcomics at the moment.) Soooo. Soft pitch: Apollo already gets slapped into so many wild backstories he's constantly trying to dodge in an effort to be just a Normal Guy, he's honestly, like, the PERFECT protagonist for one of these lmao. And tell me Kristoph doesn't make a perfect "Upstanding Duke" kind of persona, and Klavier couldn't be the "wild rake" younger brother no one expects much from, and all I'm saying is it wouldn't be that hard to contrive a reason Apollo tries to get Klavier to agree to a contract marriage the way all these stories go, lol. And also, something something, Apollo from the "real world" is an orphan/has an absent family (also like so many of these manhwa protagonists, lol) but then he gets to actually have one in his second life!! I'm such a sucker for that shit. Slightly harder pitch, and the reason I did not let myself actually start writing anything (...yet): so what if the actual plot of the "original romance novel" Apollo is familiar with from the "real world (Earth)" is actually about the slightly older generation and something something instead of admiring Phoenix as a defense attorney, it's just that he instead was Apollo's favorite "love interest" character (not, like, for himself, just the one he most liked to read about) in every way except what a blithering idiot he became when the author had him fall for the female lead--but BEFORE that, he's a cool information guild leader guy who seems like he's trying to work toward some way to improve conditions for commoners in the kingdom (but abruptly there are no more mentions of this after he gets involved with the lead, which is annoying). Aaaand... I guess what I'm saying is, Dahlia is the original female lead because she REALLY fits the whole White Lotus trope, and I'm thinking Klavier is the original male lead because A) hilarious, B) fits in with the idea there's more going on in the ACTUAL world Apollo ends up in that is written in such a way as to make things seem different in the novel (like, that Dahlia and Klavier are actually as nice as they seem and that the terrible things that happen around them are just the trials and tribulations of being main characters and not anything they're directly involved in). And Apollo, the character in the novel Apollo, is an adopted prince of Khura'in, but he's the sickly younger prince and of course not actually of the royal bloodline (and also a man, considering Khura'in is matrilineal), so Rayfa and Nahyuta are the ones the public and other nobles actually know and care about and deal with. But wait! As it so turns out, The Wright Anything Information Guild (I feel like the actual guild name CAN'T have their freaking name on it front and center lol but you get the idea) happens to know some other things that aren't really expanded on in the original novel, and might be key to preventing Apollo's death so he doesn't follow the path of the original story, and also idk maybe Apollo and Trucy are half-fae or something like that and instead of like Aw Yay Bracelet in this AU it's more of a secret Iron Shackle Tool That Will Hurt I Mean Totally-Definitely-Help Us Later (still, in a way, passed down to him by Thalassa, but more as, like... she's kind of a secret hostage and does not manage to hide pregnancy number one so Apollo's now also a secret hostage, but she manages to escape so they don't know about Trucy, only she didn't tell Apollo basically anything to "keep him as safe as possible" or w/e, and......) Well, anyway. It got away from me before I even really wrote anything, that's all.

15. Secretly Alien - unfinished (currently 2.6k WIP)

Trucy POV, gen. Apollo gets sick of very consistently always losing the card games they play at the Wright Anything Agency (usually and in the specific instance the fic starts, Bullshit/BS) and in a stroke of inspiration somehow ropes everyone into playing Among Us instead. ("What! It's still a game of trying to lie/trick everyone else--like you like!--but I actually stand a freaking chance, so we're playing this or I'm going home.") Yes. This is my Among Us AU. Hi. They play Among Us. I'm justifying this one as prime AU territory however because A) Among Us has to exist in this universe, and even more pressingly, B) I found a way to force Phoenix to have--for at least a period of time if not moving forward in perpetuity--an actual smartphone instead of a Nokia-type brick cellphone. Which even under the wild but somehow plausible considering Ace Attorney circumstances I contrived, is just automatically a complete AU lmao. Fun Fact: I am so mad this one wasn't just totally finished day-of, lol. Why I ever thought I could give myself run of an entire WAA 4-person conversation and NOT get instantly derailed is beyond me. (And I want to get the prosecutors there, too?? Someone take the characters away from me.) Anyway. No, I have not written ANY of the actual Among Us part yet. Sigh. Also I haven't personally played amogus since like, 2021? maybe? And I know (now) that it's been pretty updated since then, but, ehhh, I'm just gonna run off like, lockdown-era amogus rules and vibes, lol. If I can get to the game part.

16 - Hobby Drama - conceptualized

I'm going to go out of order this time to say: Fun Fact: I have ALWAYS wanted to write a Reddit-style fic!!! I absolutely love them and I've read some REALLY, really good ones, so I've always wanted to try my hand at it. So theoretically this is the perfect time to make that a reality and write a r/HobbyDrama subreddit fic, buuut I got stuck before starting because I'm torn on two possible routes to take it (I can easily foresee myself caving and just doing both lol). - Option 1: Steel Samurai fandom discourse, always a fun/funny thing to think about, definitely would enjoy having Maya and Miles post some stuff for that. - Option 2: courtroom law fandom discourse, because come ON, how are those galleries ALWAYS SO FULL. The little wiggling rabba-rabba onlookers have GOT to have investment in this shit. And why WOULDN'T they, honestly. I've seen those trials and I have, in fact, spent a Lot of time thinking about them, not that any posts I've made lately would reflect that in any way or anything. Like I know it's hard to tell, but if I can be invested in the Lawyers Fandom, who's to say the people in the courtrooms aren't????? And I LOVE an outsider POV fic actually, I think they're so fun. So anyway. Reddit fic. You will be mine. Just as soon as I can hone my energy

And, what the hell, since it's so late now by the time I complete this "Heh This'll Be So Quick To Throw Together" post, I'll include today's, too:

17 - Flower Shop - conceptualized (at work earlier today. lol)

AU where Daddy Hawthorne is like, 97% less shitty. And the Hawthornes have a flower shop instead of like a gemstone industry or whatever. And he takes both Dahlia and Iris with him instead of dumping one of his daughters at a fucking secluded mountain temple and seemingly forgetting about her forever. On second thought, maybe what I actually mean is he's like 999% less shitty, lmfao. Anyway, Iris POV, but Dahlia (while not a "nice" person by any stretch) is not pushed to such extremes or nearly as desperate as canon, so Valerie lives, Terry Fawles lives, Doug Swallow lives, and Dahlia gets to live a good life overall--because as much fun as I love using her as a villain, she's really such a product of the absolute worst circumstances and I really do find her interesting so I've been kind of wanting to explore her in a less cartoonishly evil light, haha. (Don't get me wrong, I do love the cartoonishly evil light too, but I like spicing things up sometimes.) Like, she does (more) normal teen rebellion things ("Look at my inappropriately older boyfriend, Dad" "I'm going to talk my way out of speeding tickets and petty shoplifting as a bid for attention" etc.) and she still totally orders Iris around and Iris still totally does whatever she asks very much to her own detriment and has to learn to break away and be her own person. Fun Fact: I have a very passionate love for Iris/Adrian Andrews. Is that. Um. Is that a ship anyone else has ever considered before? Is that just me? I'm not sure but very possibly I'll just make this a rarepair fic as a treat, for me alone, teehee. (Like... it's about the becoming the master of your own destiny it's about breaking out of codependent cycles it's about how I genuinely honestly think they'd be each other's type and have chemistry even though they've obviously never interacted lmao... idk what to tell you.)

AND THATS MY AU-GUST UPDATE POST!!!

If you made it this far, take a sprinkle of my undying affection, and may you be blessed with AU inspiration if you so desire it!! (If you do not desire it, hopefully you are not cursed with it. I do not take refunds if you are. Sorry.)

Wish me luck with completing some more fics soon!!! Unfortunately weekends are actually my least free time because I work the most and the earliest hours so I have less time and am more tired, but also on Wednesday I'm leaving for a family vacation, which will either be the BEST thing to happen in regards to AU-gust or the WORST thing lmfao. If nothing else I have 2 flights, and I actually Love writing on an airplane, so fingers crossed for it being Good. <3

EDIT: Now with part 2 for the rest of the month here!

[kikuism]

@ writer mutuals who are actually finishing their wips HOW??? what's your secret???

[nomidreams]

god i finally watched new episodes my honest reaction is jgiwoaoKzmxmkwkakkak

[mellowthorn]

the absolute horror of going to edit one little thing in a fully drafted chapter only to find the file completely blank. and then discovering that none of the 5(!!!!) backups have the contents either???

thankfully dropbox has a file-specific version history so after five minutes of panicking i managed to restore it through that, but dear lord. that was scary.

[skitskatdacat63]

Can someone assure me it's okay that I haven't finished any drawings in over a week 😭😭

[succubi-tch]

I like how people in the comments of that "tag your traumatizing incest media" post are trying to one-up pr*shippers by going "we're all just saying to tag your works, idk why you're getting so mad" while I'm in the bg having said something like You people talk about coping mechanisms like there are no others.

[izzy-b-hands]

Mini s2 blackhands fic-ish thing below the cut

"Fuck," Ed tugs at the rope, then at his belled collar. "Shit. Okay. Not ideal, but-"

The wind gusts; the rope pulls, and his collar gets tugged with it.

He's more or less alone on deck. Everyone else is busy with other chores (not a bad thing, despite being wrecked to shit, the ship's starting to look pretty good), far enough away they can't hear him gag and choke when the rope tugs again.

It's his fault, for not minding the end of the rope as he tied it on to the rest of the rigging, for not making sure it couldn't whip up and get caught under the just loose enough edge of his collar-

A gloved hand lands on the rope, pulling downwards to relieve the tension and let him breathe again.

He makes careful eye contact with Izzy, letting their eyes meet for only a moment. "You don't have to help me."

"No," Izzy sighs. He's slightly off-balance, leaning more with the movement of the ship to stay upright, but how much of that is his adjusting to moving on his new prosthetic versus the result of the rum and whiskey bottles he's been polishing off is uncertain. "I don't."

"They'd tell you not to."

"They might," Izzy shrugs, as he lifts his other hand, and saws through the rope with his knife.

The rope slips away from them, and Ed can finally take good, deep breaths again.

With the tense rope gone to hang onto, Izzy stumbles and trips forward.

He doesn't even have to think about catching him. He just does.

They pause there. Ed helping to hold Izzy up as he gets his balance back. Izzy, holding on to him tightly, but his eyes only on the collar.

"No more rigging work for you," Izzy finally says as he adjusts to stand beside Ed, only partially leaning on him. "Not until that's off. I don't want that happening to you again. If anyone else has anything to say about it-"

"I tell them it came from the orders of the first mate," Ed interrupts gently. "Um. Thank you, for this-"

He hasn't fully let go of Izzy, yet. Nor has Izzy pulled away any further. He's steady now, but Ed's hand still holds at his waist.

Not the first time he's let his hands linger there, after all. It's still, after everything, a comfortable spot for them to be.

"Don't thank me," Izzy sighs, a deep, aching, tired sign. "Just stay alive. For the sake of the Captain."

'And you too?' is what he wants to ask Izzy. But he doesn't.

He forces himself to let go of Izzy, adjusts the collar to be slightly tighter while he watches, and nods. "I can do that. I think. Gonna try, at least."

"All any of us can do," Izzy says. "No more rigging."

"No more rigging," Ed agrees, and watches him walk away towards the Captain's quarters.

He still cares. He shouldn't still care. Ed wants to pull Izzy back and beg him to explain it, how in the fuck does he still care about him after all of this?

But the words strangle themselves in his throat, and there's railing to be painted, easier than trying to force the words out.

Ed kneels to look for the paint brush and small box of paint that's been getting tossed about the deck with each wave, and tries not to shudder when the bell on his collar jingles.

[abusivelittlebunny]

I absolutely LOVE your tags mate. We're all impossibly horny and I just keep checking in to see more. You make my bussy throb <3 Keep at it, hun. P.S. Will you write more Alfie/Tommy and/or Luca/Tommy fics?

Thank youuuuuuu♡♡♡ I'm happy to make any bussy throb real or fictional ♡ and to answer that: yes, but maybe not how you'd like :/ I'll update existing fics with them in it like A4Y, Get Lucky, and the Falling For Danger series EVENTUALLY but I think with my current interests they'll fall a bit more in the background and my focus will be on other pairings (I'm a bit obsessed with John now and giving him all the dick he needs) but that doesn't mean there won't be graphic smut in my writings including those pairings. I'm still unable to let go of the gigantic omegaverse fic I had in mind where Tommy gets knocked up by MULTIPLE alphas (not all at once ofc) and the drama that ensues from that so I do want to write that though!!!! Sorry if you're not into omegaverse tho

In that fic Tommy ends up getting knocked up by Campbell at first per a deal of letting him fuck him during his heat in exchange for his brothers and Michael's freedom who Campbell rounded up in jail. The pregnancy was not planned but it comes to Tommy's advantage when dealing with Campbell and the cops. But Alfie does not take it kindly to see Tommy get knocked up by another alpha, mated or not, and he's not the only one; James and Luca also have a few words to say about it.

[starswallowingsea]

i need to brainstorm ideas for a kaokana fic.

[coffee-without-anesthetics]

oh maybe 'tis truly the averagest of thoughts one involved in such groups and communities might happen upon unconsciously first then brought into full or nay attention of the conscious sentience oh

[chatterbox-juice]

GOVERNMENTS! LEADERSHIPS! WOO!! i hate politics but Jamaa having a flag (last time I checked) suggests that there's some type of government or organization right?? like, yeah the jammatians could've just joined together and said something like "we stand together forever" but no. nah. no thank you. SO, i haven't thought about fully implementing this yet, but i kinda want to? hear me out; the lands of Jamaa have different pseudo-governments and cultures. there's only so much you can do in a game that [was] focused about educating kids the alphas don't count here k? Jamaa Township has a council-based "government;" the alphas make decisions. Township is a jack-of-all-trades thing, anyone from anywhere lives there, so the culture is one big loving doting hug of complete fuckery. Nothing makes sense except the things that do. A leopard runs the news station alongside a penguin. A great horned owl is playing the orchestra on top of the diamond shop. Jam Mart is always empty, a room filled with nothing but pillows exists, it's always crowded and nobody knows personal space even if it gutted them. It just makes sense. Appondale and Kimbara, which are in a territory dispute in my rewrite, both have a vague government structure following the same thing; battle. Appondale and Kimbara both LOVE battle, but in different ways. Appondale, and every other land, by default, also has the alphas that live there in charge (ex. Atlas and his pride, Olive, Biff, etc.) Outside of that "official" government, it's a chieftain system. Tribes in Appondale are somewhat isolated. News gets around, but everyone wants to be left alone outside of events. A gathering for something and other happens, Appondalians (?) celebrate and build camaraderie, and then the camaraderie is basically forgotten about when they retreat to their respective tribes, families, etc. Kimbara, being a smaller land in my rewrite, dabbles in military aristocracy. Protection is NEEDED, and since Kimbara is so bare, warlords are celebrated instead of regular chieftains. Tactical brilliance on the battlefield is what earns you respect. If you have a good sturdy build in Kimbara, use it! They're probably more interconnected because of this. Not necessarily hosting meetings per say, but maybe just little things, like marriages between different tribes. Castes most likely exist in families because of this, we'll see.

Being a warlord's offspring isn't earning you any leverage in Kimbara; blood is as thick as water until it's on the ground. Meritocracy but not really but actually kind of.

In Appondale, blood means everything, to the point of family heads being the ones who call the shots for the land, especially noticeable in Atlas' pride, where obviously the males/head of the family is in charge.

also here's proof about my au's map im transferring it to digital rn

[triglycercule]

i come up with ideas based on the most random things because wdym i just rambled on about fucking fingers and decided,,,, heh,,,,, yeah. this is a good idea. well i mean i do think it IS a good idea but also like in hindsight and out of context i do think its totally fucking stupid. angel92 ahh post 💀💀💀

anyways i was thinking about mtt and fingers and which ones they would lose as a result of being with eachother but then that also means that i'd have to give specific meanings to the fingers (ughhhh,,,,,) ok lets see. pointer finger would represent precision and clear vision because you literally use it to specifically gesture to things. middle finger is like ughh vulgarity and hatred because its the middle finger. the ring finger (heh! i already spoke about this one because of the myth that its connected to the heart and also holds wedding rings) represents love and the pinkie represent promise (PINKIE PROMISE!) and the thumb represents basic functioning and interpretations (because the thumb helps us literally hold things and also thumbs up and down shows your view on things)

i think if i just tack this idea onto the other post about ring fingers then it would be kinda unrealted + plus too long SO ITS GOING HERE. all the mtt are missing ring fingers because i said so. dust is missing an index finger because if the trio break up he's the only one that wouldnt have anywhere/one to go. also he'd struggle to smoke and i think that horror would always complain about him smoking so it'd be like horror's still kinda there warding him off from smoking even though he's not there anymore. horror would lose his middle finger because he'd probably be the most agressive against kist in mttpoly and now without them there he's kinda chilled out. but also the agression and spark isnt there and now he's stuck in plain old boring regular horrortale again which isnt all that fun,,,, even if dust an killer sucked fighting was a way to pass time. but horror would never admit that. and i think killer could lose a thumb (ill be fr im just running out of fingers to use here. next thing yk i'll start talking about TOES) and then he'd struggle to hold knives normally now. he literally can't hurt others the way he hurt horror and dust (but also that could also mean that killer just has to come up with more creative ways to main. or also his reduced actions could result in him causing less trouble and therefore having less threats. depends on if killer wants to be a bit more knife happy or just chil,,,,,, you KNOW i gotta go with the knife happy idea mtt NEVER get a break and if they do i immediately forget about it)

dude imagine them with all these missing fingers 💀💀💀 that shit would lookd SO weird

[rogue-storm]

Do you ever get the vibe that a friend likes you? I'm not totally certain that's what's happening, but it's eerily familiar to TWO other circumstances where that's happened. And um. Instead of feeling happy you just want to cry? What is this feeling?

[i-cant-sing]

TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2

Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

I fucked up.

You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.

I fucked up so baaaaaad.

Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.

You tried to view your options here.

I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?

I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?

No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.

You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.

A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."

Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.

You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.

"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."

"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.

"I said, no." You said sternly.

"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"

"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.

-

You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-

Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."

Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.

"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"

"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.

Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.

"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."

Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.

"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.

He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."

You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."

"You never- never asked me to marry you."

"Huh? But I did today-"

"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.

Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?

He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"

"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.

"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"

"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.

Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.

"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."

Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.

Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.

"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!

"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"

"I believe you."

What? Just like that.

"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"

"Why? We still have to get married."

You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"

Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."

You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"

"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.

"The church wont allow it-"

"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.

"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"

Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?

"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.

"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.

He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."

You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.

"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.

"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.

Does he not listen?

"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.

And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."

You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.

You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.

"You can still go and eat dinner alone."

With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."

You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"

Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."

His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"

-

The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.

The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.

Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.

Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.

You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-

Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?

After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.

"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.

"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?

"No. I dont want to wear them."

The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.

"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.

"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."

Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.

"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."

"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.

The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"

A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.

"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.

"What kitchen incident?"

"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."

Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.

You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.

"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.

The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.

Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.

-

As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.

"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.

"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."

She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."

Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.

"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"

"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.

"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.

"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"

For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.

"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.

Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"

Wait.

"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.

You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!

You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.

"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.

A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"

"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"

"They- they're burning it-"

"WHERE?!"

"The gardens!"

You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.

There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.

"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.

"Princess-" they began bowing.

"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.

"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.

The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.

But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.

Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.

The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.

Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.

"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.

"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.

"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.

-

Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.

A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.

It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.

"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"

You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.

You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."

"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"

"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.

"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"

"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.

"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"

"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.

"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."

You looked at him in confusion.

"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."

Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.

What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.

Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?

Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?

Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."

"As you wish... Baldwin."

-

Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?

Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.

Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!

Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.

"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."

Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"

You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"

He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.

Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.

He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.

He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.

His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."

"Blandishment?"

"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.

You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"

"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.

You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.

"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"

Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"

He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."

"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."

You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.

But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"

Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.

Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.

Finally, he smiled.

"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."

Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)

Part 3 is here.