#shadow milk come home i need you in my kingdom

[melluvsuu]

once in a blue moon I post art

this concept has been itching my brain...

sigh get possessed and corrupted (ish) by shadow milk cookie!!!!

[melluvsuu]

SHADOW MILK APPRECIATION YIPPOIE ouh my goodness ‼‼‼ GUYS SHADOW MILK COOKIE FROM.THR HIT GAME CRK...

❝ 𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 ! ❞

➤ ACT I. | CHAPTER VI.

➤ PAST.

There are two types: A listener and a yapper. [Y] and Shadow Milk Cookie seem to match that. The beast cookie had been yapping for hours while the wanderer listened while reading books. Who listens and reads at the same time?

Shadow Milk Cookie pouted, then pulled on the wanderer's cheeks, ❝Are you listening to me?! Hmph!❞

“Yes.” [Y] replied. The beloved trickster crossed his arms, ❝Hmph…It's no fun when you're being too honest.❞

“Would you rely on my terrible skill in lying?” [Y] asked.

❝C'mon! It can't be that bad!❞ Shadow Milk Cookie snorted. ❝Give me a lie!❞

The wanderer tries to think of a lie to prove that he's bad at lying. How can someone as stoic as [Y] be bad at lying? Shadow Milk Cookie has seen bad liars before, but [Y] has a great poker face and that is how he imagined the face that the former guardian makes when lying. Uh…the results weren't so great…

[Y] made the infamous or famous Tanjiro's lying face as he lied through his teeth, “I…I’m not an honest person…”

Shadow Milk looked at him, shOOked at what he saw and what he heard. Not only that [Y] has an inability to lie, but also BAD at coming up with lies! He has NEVER, EVER seen anyone this bad!

❝THAT'S THE BEST LIE YOU COME UP WITH?!❞ Shadow Milk Cookie hollered, gripping on the taller male's shoulders and shaking him violently, ❝AND WHAT'S WITH THAT FACE?! ARE YOU TANJIRO?! THAT'S CUTE, BUT IT'S SUCKS!!❞

[Y] fidgets, scratching the back of his head, “Sorry, Millennial Tree taught me to be an honest person which gives me the inability to lie…”

Shadow Milk squish [Y]’s cheeks, ❝My poor beloved…What's your name?❞

“[Y]...”

❝Hmm…I’ll call you my pookie, pookie! Still, how can he make you this bad at this?❞ Shadow Milk whined, continually squishing the male's cheeks. ❝You were a great liar keeping a poker face~ Telling such cruel lies that can break other’s mind. Like mine~ My mind was nearly broken but you somehow showed mercy…❞

“Huh? What do you…mean by that?” [Y] tilted his head. Shadow Milk hummed, ❝Are you really sure you wish to know?❞

“It'll help regain his memories, right?” The spirit thought.

❝Are you looking to know the truth? I may or may not be a liar, but…I can't lie to you, pookie. Let's go somewhere private where no one can hear you. I know just the place.❞

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

With White Lily, the female was flipping through pages of the history book about Red Spider Lily Cookie. However, some pages were ripped out of the book. Why is that? It's almost like someone angrily ripped it out or tried to hide something.

“...” White Lily Cookie frowned, feeling that using the book is useless. Tho, she spotted something poking out from between the pages.

Curious, the female flipped over to the page where it was poking out. To her surprise, it was a folded up map, but it ripped in half. What's the map for? Why is it here?

White Lily Cookie took notice of a divine figure in a photo with orange lilies surrounding them. Now that she looks at it, this mysterious figure looks almost identical to Red Spider Lily. She has so many questions…

“...What is all of this? Could this be the secret of Red Spider Lily Cookie?” White Lily Cookie thought to herself. “This is only half a map, could it be leading to treasures or an abandoned kingdom?”

“If I try to explore the secret, I might make the same mistake. But…curiosity is taking the better of me. I must find the other half of the map without Elder Faerie noticing…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Elder Faerie Cookie rubs his temper while pacing back and forth. It was stressing him out. The last remaining flower left behind by its master, Red Spider Lily corrupted White Lily’s dream, and his plan of return. It'll be double the threats if Red Spider Lily Cookie was awakening and will release the beasts.

Worse than that, if Red Spider Lily Cookie was awakened, then the creator behind his existence will make their official appearance rather than in a dream.

The flower that was shrieking earlier became a yellow lily flower which means it was reborn. What can he do with it now? Set it free?

“I'll take that.” Elder Faerie jumped when a tendril grabbed hold of the flower pot. Before the elder faerie could react, tendrils wrapped around his figure. Oleander tilted his head, “Ah? This isn't how it is supposed to look. He must've really changed.”

“Who are you?!” Elder Faerie grunted, feeling the tendrils tightening its grasp around him. Oleander ignored him and tried to use his curse magic to reverse the spell on the flower, but failed.

“Oh? My spell isn't working…Even though he has no memories of the past, his spell still remains the same.” The lilac haired male mumbled before glancing over at the trapped elder faerie, “He’s here, am I right?”

The faerie kingdom flinches before looking away, “I prefer to remain silent.”

Oleander forcefully grabs Elder Faerie's face, forcing the faerie to look him in the eyes, “You're with the spirit of the forest, correct? Let's see…Elder Faerie Cookie is your name…?”

“...”

Oleander then looked over towards the tree in the distance. He has heard of the Beast Cookies, the first holder of the soul jams. They were sealed away by the witches and entrusted Elder Faerie Cookie to guard the tree to keep them sealed.

“I'll give you two choices: tell me where he is or…” the lavender haired male trails off and points to the tree, “...I'll release the beasts in the wild…”

Elder Faerie's eyes widened, “...! You can't—”

“Choice #1 or #2…?” Oleander glared.

The fool faerie was forced to make a choice to protect both [Y] and the Faerie Kingdom. Although, he might think it's impossible for the oleander-scented cookie to remove the seal from the tree. If he wants to escape this then he has no choice but to pick choice #—

“Not yet…” a deep voice spoke. Elder Faerie's heart nearly jumped when he pointed the horned cookie behind Oleander, who got scared by him.

“Fuck! Mayhem, give me a damn warning next time!” Oleander scolded, placing his hand over his heart. Mayhem crossed his arms, “Master ███████ only wants the flower for now. He isn't our objective yet.”

“That name again… I think I might have heard that name from somewhere, but where…? They're after [Y]... Perhaps, the master they speak of is that very same cookie who threatened Millennial Tree Cookie in his dream.” Elder Faerie furrowed his eyebrows.

“Should I crumble him? He may have the remaining power of a guardian left in him, but…he won't last longer if he were to use it again.” Oleander huffed, placing his hand on his hips. “He's a fragile cookie.”

“Your problem. Not mine.” The [h] haired male scoffed before he transported himself elsewhere. Oleander shrugs it off then whistles, commanding the tendrils to suck the inside of Elder Faerie's body.

❝ewwwww!❞

Don't think that way. Oleander has the ability to suck every meat and bone from his victim’s body, leaving them with nothing but skin. Their bodies deflated like a balloon. His tendrils are carnivores.

❝double ewwwww!❞

The tendril wrapped itself around Elder Faerie's neck, allowing the other to insert itself in his mouth to remove everything from inside his body until there's nothing.

❝ew! this came out weird and yet they can't find a way to explain it without making it sound weird!!!❞

“...” Oleander let out a sigh with disappointment when his tendrils let go of the foolish king, “Ugh. He's expired. That's not enough food for my tendrils. All of the faeries are expired. Two or three have already been deflated.”

“Your majesty!” Silverbell and Mercurial Knight shouted out to the king once they arrived at the scene. Elder Faerie choked out the saliva, holding his sore throat. Before they noticed Oleander, he disappeared with the flower.

“Your majesty. Are you alright?” Silverbell asks the choking king.

“I-I’m quite alright…Just a sore throat.” Elder Faerie strained, rubbing his sore throat. Silverbell and Mercurial Knight help him up on his feet. The king apologized, “Sorry that you had to witness this.”

“As long as you're unharmed, then that's fine by me.” Mercurial Knight said. “However, we made a…terrible discovery…”

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

❝Ah. This seems like a great spot.❞ Shadow Milk Cookie smiled, plopping down on the bouncing spore. He then patted the spot next to him for [Y] to sit. So [Y] did. Shadow Milk Cookie plops on the male's lap and clears his throat, ❝I shall tell you a tale about the Light of Knowledge and the cookie who lost hope of life. This is a tragic tale about a dear friend of mine…❞

The spirit of Deceit pulled out two cardboard puppets of himself and a cookie that [Y] never seen before.

Light Milk Cookie was wandering in the hall of the Blueberry Yogurt Academy on his way to the library. He slowed down when he heard a soft shriek from the darkness of the hallway. Curious, the male follows the sound cautiously.

“Hello…?” Light Milk Cookie whispered. The soft shriek was getting closer as the male stepped closer until the light lit up in a limping [h] haired male male, injured. The inverted flower took notice of Light Milk Cookie and let out an alerted shriek, shattering the glass and nearly bursting Light Milk 's eardrums.

“Ugh…Enough…” the injured cookie demanded the flower, causing it to stop. The male glare over his shoulder, “...What do you want? Power? Wealth? What is that you foolish, greedy cookie wants from me…?”

“Ah…sorry, I heard shrieking and found you injured.” Light Milk apologized before kneeling before the male, “Are you alright?”

“Stay back…! I don't need your pity.” The injured cookie growled. “You just want to get on my good side so you can stab me in the back…”

“Eh? No. I just want to make sure you're alright?” The dual haired male declined. “A…are you new here? What happened?”

“...I'm not new to Earthbread, but I'm not sure what the hell is this place…” the injured male mumbled. “But I might be safe from that helluva place I used to call home.”

“Whatever happened to you?” Light Milk asked. “Ah. Before you can explain. Let me take you to the clinic.”

❝I met him back at the Blueberry Yogurt Academy, injured. The reason for his injuries was that his own cookies that he created betrayed him.❞ Shadowmilk explained as he showed off the pre-corrupted Red Spider Lily Cookie being attacked by his people. ❝They grew greedy for power and wealth. They want nothing more but greed. They were made to have peace and happiness, but that doesn't last long❞

❝Sad, right? How could they harm someone who wants nothing but peace and happiness? Cookies these days are nothing but disappointment.❞

❝He’s not a bad person, it's the fact that greedy cookies force him into something he's not. I won't forgive those bastards for hurting him.❞

“Ah…poor Red Spider Lily Cookie…” [Y] frowned. Shadow Milk Cookie sigh, lean back against the male’s chest, ❝Yeah. I didn't get the chance to…tell him how I feel…❞

“Oh? What feeling?” [Y] asked innocently.

Shadow Milk Cookie turns to face [Y] with a serious expression on his face. He then cup the male's face and confessed, ❝I love you even if you doesn't remember me…❞

“...What does that—” Before [Y] could finish questioning it, Shadow Milk Cookie pulled him in a kiss. After a few minutes of kissing, the spirit pulled away and licked his lips, ❝Your lips taste off. Cacao, maybe?❞

“Ah…”

╭      ⁞ ❏. facts

┊      ⁞ ❏. before red spider lily cookie strike fear to earthbread, he been hanging around the pre corrupted beast cookies and grew fond of them

┊      ⁞ ❏. red spider lily cookie has hatred towards the ancient heroes, but despise white lily and dark cacao more

┊      ⁞ ❏. red spider lily wish to take dark cacao’s eye and take it as his own

➤ chapter v.

➤ chapter vii.

[lexi-the-demon-69]

Why do you hate Mystic Flour?

*Inhales* Oh my god.

Bro, the amount of beef I have with this character is unfathomable. I absolutely despise Mystic Flour for OH SO many reasons. Her entire existence pisses me off and I just can't understand why so many people like her. From what I've seen, people like her mainly for her design, and yeah, I guess it's nice. But, other than that, nothing much else but I could be wrong.

Let me just give you a list:

1.) Incredibly Difficult Obtainability Ok, I get why she's hard to obtain, but I can't help but complain about it. When she was first released, you had to pull 250 times to get the pity and, of course, I couldn't get it. Usually, I wouldn't be too mad, BUT, she is (as of now) the most broken character in the entire game and you absolutely NEED her for kingdom arena if you wanna get to a high ranking. I had to get her from soulstones and I even had to stay up ALL night at the end of her update to get the final two I needed to unlock her. I even used fucking MONEY on CRK to get this bitch and she STILL didn't come home! (For context: I'm a free-to-play player). Just goes to show how desperate I was to get her.

2.) Kingdom Arena As I've stated before, Mystic Flour is the most broken character in the game and you absolutely NEED her in your arena team if you want a high rank. Before she was released, Kingdom Arena was a pretty fair gamble. Now (and especially when she was released) this bitch is REQUIRED to have on your team, or else you won't get a high rank. To make matters worse, she has very little to NO counters! The only counter that I'm aware of is herself and that's bullshit.

3.) Her character Look, I know she's supposed to be a villain and does a pretty good job at being one. But, fuck that. She is the most boring, lamest, dullest, lifeless villain I've ever seen. I know that's kinda the point of her character, being that she is the virtue of apathy, but I don't care. I like my villains having a personality. (Shadow Milk supremacy). I absolutely hate everything that her character stands for: giving up on life because life is meaningless. Sure, life is a cycle of life and death, but it's what you do in that cycle is what truly matters. And the fact that she GENUINELY believes she is doing nothing wrong makes my blood boil. Not to mention how she "killed off" Crunchy Chip, Carrow, and the two other soldiers and used them as puppets to talk through... To spread her bum-ass ideology makes me wish that Dark Cacao should've stopped letting her talk so she can have her ass handed to her. (Side note: Dark Cacao is so patient with her, oh my god. Like, Cacao, I can appreciate you being patient. BUT PLEASE JUST SLAP THE BITCH OUTTA HER SO YOU CAN GO HOME.) Also, I know her backstory is sad, but I honestly don't care. She killed MILLIONS and you think I'm gonna sympathize with a crazy bitch like this? No thank you, I like my individuality.

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

There's honestly a lot more that I could go on about, but I don't really feel like typing anymore. In conclusion: Mystic Flour is a fucking loser. The End.

[hugemilkshake]

Oh I have an idea with related to the sequel to Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie with the power of Hypnotism

In general, after defeating Shadow Milk Cookie

T/N Cookie and his friends are coming home

After that, T/N Cookie hears some voices calling you, it's the Shadow Milk cookie that sealed it

Pure Vanilla Cookie arrives and asks if she's okay.

Answered fine. Pure Vanilla was going to visit friends.

Night came, and they all went to bed, and T/N Cookie also

In her dream, she had blue eyes that reminded her of the Shadow Milk Cookie

Shadow Milk cookie wanted it to be all mine, after that stares the hypnotic eyes of the Shadow Milk Cookie.

I hope you enjoy the milkshake. Ah yes the ptsd part of having a yandere 😌

The after effects of Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie

-platonic or romantic insinuation-

!TW! Under the cut are themes like trauma, wanting someone dead and possessiveness (the last two happen at the end)

First part

After the what happened at the faerie kingdom, you and Pure Vanilla decided to head back to the Vanilla Kingdom, you trusted Gingerbrave and his friends could handle themselves

The trip back was tense, you and Pure Vanilla didn’t talk that much.

But once you two got back you started to talk again

It was clear something happened to you to while you were gone and the radon villagers were worried

So they decided to try and cheer you and Pure Vanilla up by making you some raisin bread!

You both appreciated the gesture

But once you got back to your room in the Vanilla castle you lied down on your bed and just looked up at the ceiling.

The world was slightly spinning… probably an after effect of your reality getting morphed right in front of your eyes…

But something took you out of your peaceful trance.

Laughter

His laughter

You instinctively grabbed a pillow and threw it at the direction you heard his laughter

But nothing. The pillow just hit the wall with a soft thud.

After a minute you heard a knock on your door, you got up and opened it. Pure Vanilla was there

“Y/N Cookie are you alright? I thought I should check on you after what happened”

You didn’t admit it but you were relieved to hear his voice but you told him that you were fine just shaken up, you asked his he was holding up as well

“Oh well I’m still a little shocked at what happened… but I think I just need a little time”

You nodded, as Pure Vanilla bided a goodbye

You were alone again…

Later that night in your slumber… you had a dream… no not a dream… a nightmare

Laughter was all you could hear, your body was tied up by blue strings wrapped around you limbs, making you move like a puppet

But the most notable thing was his eyes

You couldn’t look away from them, they were hypnotic

But your last straw was his voice…

“Welcome back dear!~”

You jolted awake. It was just a nightmare… thank goodness…

You heard a knock on your door though… strange it was the middle of the night…

You got up and opened the door to once again be greeted by Pure Vanilla

“Y/N Cookie, I’m sorry to be bothering you this late but I was coming back from my study and I heard a commotion… is everything alright?”

You usually wouldn’t tell people about your nightmares… but Pure Vanilla went through something similar…

You told him to come in as you sat on the bed, Pure Vanilla joining you

You started to talk about your nightmare, describing everything you could remember. Pure Vanilla just listened to you and once you were done gave you the comfort you needed

It was nice to have some who could some what relate to you…

…

…

…

Shadow Milk cookie watched on as you told Pure Vanilla about the nightmare you had… if only Shadow Milk could have actually been in your sweet dreams…

But when Pure Vanilla started to comfort you…. His blood boiled…

THAT should be HIM not some WANNABE POSER

Oh if Shadow Milk could communicate with Pure Vanilla he would be screaming at him

But when you hugged Pure Vanilla once he was done comforting you.. he wanted to make Pure Vanilla in to a pile of crumbs… no… not crumbs…. DUST

But Shadow Milk could only watch as you and Pure Vanilla talked…

[cookiesrunaus-whitelily]

So your au little demons reminds me of my au called dear mother. Where all the beasts are reborn as kids shadow milk is 2 years old, Eternal sugar is 4 years old, Burning spice is 6 years old, Mystic flour is 8 years old and silent salt is 10 years old. The ancients know that white Lily's kids are the old beasts. The beasts hate the ancients [except white lily because she is their mother]. And the beasts made it the job to get rid and Torture the ancients

Shadow milk

After being reborn he found himself a baby in a forest and was soon found by DM! lily and was adopted after. He hates when he sees pure vanilla try to get all lovey-dovey with his mama [DM! Lily] shadow milk will start wailing until DM! Lily pays attention to him and only him. He is a very needy baby and wants to be held all the time by his mama

Eternal sugar

When she got reborn she found that she was born into and abusive family that had her chained up outside and the town would bully and hurt her because she was born with wings and for her those were the worst 3 years of her life but she got sent to foster care and got adopted by DM! Lily. She hates when hollyberry comes over and try to get alone time with lily but that will never happen because in this life she has insomnia and is always next to lily until she falls asleep and holly gets pissy about it

Burning spice

The day he got reborn he was born into a very neglectful family, they would never pay attention to him and treat him like shit, but one day he met lily as she was holding sugar and shadow milk was in a stroller and he got clingy to her and he ended up getting kidnapped [not really she adopted him but his bio parents wanted him back but lily didn't want to]. Whenever he sees golden cheese talking to much, he will walk over and ask DM! Lily for help on something he knows but act like he doesn't because he was neglected

Mystic flour

She was really reborn in the snowy Is mountains of the cacao kingdom. She would almost froze to death if it weren't for DM! Lily finding her in the snow, sooner or later Mystic flour got adopted. When dark cacao talks about his kingdom and warriors too much Mystic flour will run into the kitchen with a new award from school to tell to her mummy but if cacao talk over her she will cry until cacao bribes her with money to stop crying

And now

Silent salt is the only reborn that is biologically Lily's kid so all of the other kids are jealous but the good thing about being the counterpart of your mom is that you don't need to fight for affection but you have to deal with your crazy siblings

Here are the little demons!

White Lily gave them new names to make them feel comfortable.

SM, ES and MF were in the same adoption center and WL legally adopted them.

BS was on the streets when WL found him.

And SS was rescued from an abusive home by WL.

SM is 6 years old.

ES and MF are 7 years old.

BS and SS are 10 years old.

Soon I will upload a small graphic about them, the ancients and White Lily.

[queen-rainy-love]

The Faerie Pure Wedding Part 8

Let's go!

*The scene is set two hours later at the reception party. Everyone was dancing, chatting, and congratulating Pure Vanilla and White Lily. As that is going on, Pastry (while holding Pond Dino in her arms) was talking with Clover and Lilybell.*

Pastry: This kingdom is so beautiful. Can you imagine living here?

Clover: It is quite amazing. It reminds me of the Grass Village. Just a bit more elegant.

Lilybell: Yeah! It would be a beautiful home to be in. Do you think you and Red Velvet would want to move here someday?

Pastry: I'm not sure. We just moved into our new house and the children just love the Cookie Kingdom. But we will definitely be visiting the kingdom.

Lilybell: I wouldn't mind moving here one day. It reminds me of the Grass Village in a way.

Clover: Besides the metal everywhere reminding me of Tea Knight, it kinda does. We should have another trip here soon.

*As they kept talking, White Lily whispered something to Pure Vanilla. He nodded and quickly walked off somewhere. White Lily then talked to the announcer. They nodded and spoke.*

Faerie Announcer: Everyone. It is time to start the flying of the bride's flowers.

Pastry: Flying of the...

Clover & Lilybell: Bouquet toss.

Pastry: Ah. I see.

Clover: *takes Pond Dino from Pastry's hands* You should go and participate.

Pastry: What? But I-

Lilybell: No buts! You should go! *starts pushing Pastry toward the crowd.*

*A crowd starts forming in front of White Lily. Meanwhile, Madeleine, Knight, Capsaicin, and Pure Vanilla were pushing Red Velvet toward the gathering crowd. Red Velvet was trying to stop them from getting close.*

Madeleine: Come on Red Velvet! You've been pushing this back for too long!

Red Velvet: I know...

Capsaicin: Mom deserves it!

Red Velvet: I know...

Pure Vanilla: You have our blessing to do this. Why hesitate?

Red Velvet: It's just that there's a crowd now.

Knight: And you call me a coward!

*Pastry is pushed all the way to the front, standing next to Bubble Pearl and Sablé. White Lily took her place in front of the crowd with the bouquet.*

Faerie Announcer: On the count of three, the bride's bouquet will be free. *White Lily turned her back to the crowd.* One. *Everyone gets ready to catch.* Two. *Everyone besides Pastry takes a step back.* Three!

*Instead of throwing the bouquet, White Lily turned around and walked forward. Pastry was confused and finally saw everyone stepping back with a smile. She looked back at White Lily, who was standing right before her with a smile.*

White Lily: Here. *hands the bouquet to Pastry.*

Pastry: Lady White Lily...

White Lily: No need to keep me calling me that, dear. For now, *looks behind Pastry* you have someone who has a question for you.

*Pastry turned around to see Red Velvet standing right there. Madeleine, Knight, Capsaicin, and Pure Vanilla were smiling while Clover, Lilybell, and Cream Puff were trying not to giggle (Pond Dino actually giggling). Pastry could see him nervously pull something out of his pocket.*

Red Velvet: Pastry...I...I don't know any living Sweet Being who can understand me like you do. To see the world like I do. And it would be an honor if you would-

???: My my my! What a wonderful show! Such a classic! The Prince giving his heart to the Cookie who understands him! This deserves a round of applause! Applause! Applause!

*Everyone freezes and panickly looked around. White Lily rushes over to Pure Vanilla, who protectively stood in front of others. Red Velvet pulled Pastry and their kids close behind him.*

Madeleine: He's here...How?

???: Did you truley think that your little spell could stop me? Shadow Milk Cookie? Especially on this day of all days?

*Before anyone could say anything, a large ghostly form of Shadow Milk appeared above everyone.*

Shadow Milk: Now that I'm here, we can have a real show!!! Hahahaha!

[rusticcircus]

Do you think you'd ever do cookie run kingdom bots?? 👀 Because I also have a thing for jesters and bro I love Shadow Milk sm. He took the entire 250 pity to come home though 😭😭😭

i don't know, anon, i ever would?

i mean, im pretty sure there's talented bot creators on the cookie run fandom. And what motivates me to write majorly for the mcyt is that im hungry for content and have to cook myself HAHAH. But i do see my account in some moment becoming a multifandom one besides minecraft. idk guys, if you dont fw that i can always do a side acc bc i have 20 emails from my time as a roleplayer in twt LOL.

You are a lucky one, i have been trying to manifest that bastard in any way i can and havent gotten him. I hope he NEVER EVER comes home i dont need him (lying and using inverse psychology so he comes)

[nutterzebutters]

I'd also like to remind everyone that pure vanilla often has a habit of taking the responsibilities that aren't necessarily his to deal with- because he wants to heal pains. Painting him as this savior complex-esqu ink blot on cookie lore is about the least accurate version of pure vanilla you could come up with. Pure vanilla has what you can label as a martyr complex and an inferiority complex, and displays symptoms of deep depression, anxiety, and with beast yeasts second episode, a euphemism for invasive thoughts thanks to non other than shadow milk- often a symptom of OCD. This is coming from a purely studied field pov. When I say that people who typically hate on a character like pure vanilla (who is surprisingly a very accurate portrayal of what too much responsibility and unchecked mental illness does to you as a person) I notice they don't usually take kindly to those kinds of ppl irl, and I'd have to wonder how they handle a confrontation of their own behaviors.

It's known that devsis often assassinates his character in the name of needing gingerbrave to be the main character/protagonist, and for that we have to live with it, but pure vanilla really IS a victim. I even have a post elaborating on my point here. Nobody is "victimizing" him, he lost his kingdom and had to run through the halls covered in jam and cookie bits before the big impact, we often forget that this is the equivalent of our blood and limbs, hearing his soldiers and people cry out for him to hurry. Not everyone survived and the English version makes a good job of making it seem like they all did, they did not. He saw his cookies crumbling. Mostly cookies in the castle could get in the airship to later become the republic, and those Lucky to get out in the vanilla kingdom city eventually settled in travelers rest- all desperately wishing to go home, as they still considered the kingdom their true domain.

Highlighting golden cheese and his kingdom reaction, it's very clear that pure vanilla may have new "subjects" now that the raisin villagers moved in- but this does not change that for years he thought the blood of his people was on his hands. Never did he once blame the one cookie who started the siege, he didn't blame the person who created the cake armies and killed soldiers, did away with architecture, and now wants him dead. No blame was placed on the one cookie he should have trusted with his kingdom should anything happen to him, who was now destroying it instead. Not once did he fight dark enchantresses accusations of calling him a hypocrite (when she herself did all the actions she named, only reflecting on to him what she did. It was never pure vanilla and he STILL ACCEPTED IT)

This cookie was given a whole 12 trials for his soul jam, it's very clear that whatever secret he learned at the end of it is big, or else they wouldn't have emphasized that it was unknown. This is also the same cookie who rallied the rest of the ancients to end the very wars that we now know Shadow milk cookie started- with bigger spell capabilities than Lily; or else Shadow milk would have never tried to get him to "show his (true) strength" and cut down the silver tree. For all we know, this cookie is terrified of himself and his power, for all we know this cookie has a legit reason to pull back and fly under the radar other than being "spineless" like so many claim. He's not a wet blanket for comfort, he is realistically a tragic character who continues to try and smile and save face for others while he actively spirals, I truly do not know how you miss that.

This Cookie legit does not have a value on his own life, and the war did not cause that. Please note dear cookie runners, his behavior can be labeled as passively suicidal in the psychological field because of the willingness to literally die for anyone else but himself and not putting as much effort into protecting himself as he would others. Not caring about self preservation out of value, but only ever caring for it because he knows it would end bad for others (either because he's an ancient and he has a responsibility, or because he knows his soul jam in the wrong hands would end terribly for the world-) remember guys this soul jam in particular is the most elusive not only by evidence of clotted creams remarks, but 12 whole trials and DEs boner for it and ONLY IT to "mold the world to my image" should say smth. This is a glass box kind of situation.

The admission of illness aren't just thrown in there as silly character quirks- no. Devsis is aware and has acknowledged his poor mental state through interacting with fans and within the story. Op, I hope whatever anger you have you are working through, but lore, detail, and story are stacked against you on this one.

Can you please rant to me about how much you hate GingerBrave smut and Pure Vanilla? I hate GingerBrave smut too

OML YES PLEASE. For starters, it's clear that pure vanilla cannot handle his own problems alone and I'm honestly sick of people not talking about it, people be saying that he's one of the strongest ancients but I'm not seeing it, it's no shit people see him as a TWINK because he fucking acts like one, He can't face his own problems and relies on others to do so, like white lily with shadow milk cookie and GingerBrave for the cookie of darkness + dark enchantress cookie, it's also clear he gives no shits about his own people nor about his own fucking family, let's talk about how his youngest descendant was left in a forest to fucking die by his own family and pure vanilla didn't even know, also, you get how pure vanilla is ONLY involving GingerBrave? Talking about taking him to war and everything? Like what the fuck makes him think it's okay? Even if GingerBrave wants this, why the fuck would he still do it?! GingerBrave is a three year old in a twelve year olds body, and also I'm pretty damn sure GingerBrave was being sent into this, the others were given a choice and he couldn't even be there for his friend. If he had just heard her out he would've prevented this, GingerBrave had no reason at all to be thrown in this, and also im sick of people victimizing him, like "ohh poor pure vanilla" or "pure vanilla is a good guy!" Even if he regretted his past mistakes, he is clearly training GingerBrave to be his tool only to toss him out when he's done, he doesn't care about GingerBrave or anybody that isn't himself, I'd actually argue he's worse than dark enchantress cookie, pure vanilla is dumb and that's saying a lot for the supposed ancient of wisdom, then when I say this to his fans about why I don't like him they want to get all mad and shit, pure vanilla cookie failed to represent and lead his people which was why the raisin village was being invaded by waffle bots and the vanilla kingdom became timeless and over taken by DE, I'm surprised everyone forgave him after everything he did, it's like he has everyone wrapped around his finger, in my opinion pure vanilla is the WEAKEST ancient I ever fucking seen, at least the other ancients can handle their own fucking problems and not send a literal child into this, pure vanilla is supposed to be this peace maker and voice of reason but I feel like people are glorifying him way too much. Pure vanilla lacks general remorse and emotion towards his people and those around him. Better yet, I'm sick of people making pure vanilla cookie seem like a father figure for GingerBrave, like dark cacao or dark Choco or the other ancients I can see that but pure vanilla?

And as for GingerBrave smut, I fucking hate it, people are generally sick in the head, especially the bitches who would age him up to make it okay, like when will they learn that it isn't fucking okay, people would proship this boy, draw him pregnant and even make jokes of the one ad, if it was someone like sorbet shark cookie or sherbet cookie, there would be absolute out rage, but the minute it's GingerBrave all of a sudden it doesn't matter. People had pair GingerBrave up with everyone, his fucking brother included, I swear if it was some other character there would be actual cancelations. When it comes to other characters being proshipped, they wanna scream, get angry, start an actual outrage, rant on how their minors but the minute it's GingerBrave who is one of the most shipped fucking characters is the victim of this, people wanna make jokes or not care, it's actually hard to find people who would actually act out on proshippers who'd proship GingerBrave to no end, like people would do it for cream puff, people would do it for wizard cookie, hell people will do it for strawberry crepe cookie but the minute it's GingerBrave it's fucking SILENCE. Like not a word, NOTHING. I hate how people turn a blind eye on GingerBrave, hell I swear the only reason people are even talking about it is because their favorite adult cookie is in it, hell some people would say they like it when it comes to GingerBrave, you notice how they would age GingerBrave up in some aus to ship him with adults, even making some rape him it's wrong and fucking nasty but people are acting like it's okay because it's fucking GingerBrave.

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: T (for inherent neutral ending angst)

Summary: Toriel's old house feels like a mausoleum. She will gladly ignore chisp crumbs and lumpy mattresses for a place that feels more like home.  (Queen Toriel ending fic for Soriel Week 2021.)

Word Count: 5211

XXX

The bedroom was exactly how she left it. Her bed pushed up against the gray wall. A book about snails on the wooden desk. A knit sweater with the embroidered words "Mrs. Mom Lady" in the wardrobe.

Even after all this time, she could barely look at it without her soul splitting in two.

She'd known this wouldn't be easy. She hadn't seen this house in over a century. Still, she wasn't prepared for how Asgore had sealed up her old room like a tomb, a photograph of the day that everything went terribly, horribly wrong.

At least the last child was safe. They should not have had to take a life to save their own, but she doubted Asgore had given them a choice.  Her own soul felt more numb than anything.  To her, Asgore had died a century ago.

What was done, was done. And as usual, she was too late to do anything but sweep up the dust.

She backed through the doorframe, shutting the door with a quiet click. She would have to return eventually, but for now, she yearned for a place with fewer painful memories.

"Hey, Your Majesty." A voice startled her as she attempted to escape the foyer. Luckily it was a voice she would always recognize.

"Hello, old friend." She turned and smiled at the monster leaning against the stair railing.

He was smaller than she expected, with that deep voice. Not that that was a bad thing. As for him being a skeleton, that had been apparent from the abundance of bone puns.

"You know the formality is unnecessary," she told him softly.

"Is it?" He shuffled from foot to slippered foot. 

In all her time of joking with him through the door, she had never expected him to be so cute. 

"Didn't want to assume, old lady."

He winked, and she felt a weight lift from her chest. At least one monster would still treat her like a person, and not like a mythical figure returned to save them.

"Toriel," she introduced herself for the first time. He had to have heard already, but between rushing to the palace, scattering Asgore's dust, comforting their—her people… she hadn't had time to seek out her friend.

He seemed to feel comfortable walking right into her home, though. Did he ever visit Asgore when he was here? Her friend seemed like the type of monster who went wherever he felt like, and Asgore, for all his flaws, had never turned a monster away from his home.

"Sans." He held out a bony hand. "Sans the skeleton."

"Nice to meet you, Sans," she tested out the name and clasped his hand with her paw.

A loud pthbbbbbt echoed through the empty hall. Her eyes widened.

"Wow, Toriel. That's, uh, some way to make an introduction." He winked.

She squinted down at the inflatable object in his hand, the source of the farting noise. Then she pretended to ignore it.

"It certainly is. I was not aware that skeletons were capable of flatulence."

His eyelights gutted for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Your jokes are even better in person," he said once he composed himself.

His laugh set her soul fluttering. In all their conversations through the door, he'd never laughed like that. Maybe she should have tried fart jokes sooner.

"I am always happy to tickle your funny bone." She smiled, and his face tinged blue.

"Happy to be tickled. But, uh. I guess that's not all I'm here for?"

Her breath caught in her lungs. Of course he would not visit without a reason. 

"I suppose not. Would you like to have a seat?"

"It's nothing that serious," he assured her quickly. "I just thought you'd want an update on the kid."

"You've spoken with them? They are still here?"  She tried to keep the hysteria from her voice.

How could they have taken Asgore’s soul and not returned home?  Had the Barrier proven too powerful?

"No—geez, I'm making this sound worse." He ran a bony palm down his face. "They’re definitely gone.  Papyrus tried to call them nonstop.  Besides that, you know the big stuff. The king's dead."

Her lips drew to a thin line, pulling tight across her fangs.

"I can hardly fault them for that."

"Right." He stuck his hands back in his pockets. "I gotta be honest. The way the kid looked when I last saw them… I don't think they did it."

Her brow furrowed. She was inclined to hope that the child had not chosen violence.  They had been so sweet, so eager to talk and joke with the monsters of the Ruins, so quick to hug her even after she’d fought them.  It was hard to imagine them striking down Asgore.

"But… then what do you think happened?"

Sans shrugged. "Wish I knew. I kept watch best I could, but…"

"I could not expect you to come between them and your king." As much as she wished he could have. She had hardly expected him to agree to watch over the human at all.

“Couldn’t have even if I wanted to.  These bones aren’t as sturdy as they look.  Maybe I shoulda listened to my bro and drank more milk...” He grimaced and glanced away.  “Anyway.  Like I said, I don’t know what happened.  Just.  Be careful, okay?”

“Careful?” She blinked.

“Yeah.  You never know.” His gaze flickered to a potted golden flower on the end table next to the stairs.

“Sans.  If I did not know better, that would sound like a threat.” She crouched down, so she could better meet his eyesockets. “Is there something you are trying to tell me?”

“Man. First I rip one in front of a lady, then I threaten her.  I’m makin’ a great first impression.”  He rocked back and forth on his slippers. “Look. Toriel. I don’t wanna scare you, ‘specially since today must’ve been hard. Real hard.”

His eyelights bored into her irises. She found herself needing to look away.

“It has certainly been… interesting. Moreso than any day since I last saw this place.” She suppressed a shudder.

Change. Her life had been constant for so long.  There would be no more of that, now. Hopefully that would be for the better, but only time would tell.

“Yeah. Being flung away from everything you’re used to… don’t imagine that’s a cakewalk. Don’t want you to worry about freaks hiding in the shadows on top of that.”

Somehow, she felt he made more sense when he was on the other side of a door. Knock-knock jokes had a formula. Just another normalcy she had forfeited, she supposed.

“Please, Sans. If you believe I am in danger, you may say so.”

“Fine. So.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help a snort.

“Alright, I suppose I walked into that one.” She smiled, despite his warning. “Under normal circumstances, I would say I could handle myself. But I must admit you are more updated on the state of the kingdom than I.  Do you have any information that could help?”

“...Not really?” His grin turned sheepish.  “You look like a tough lady. I bet my bones are rattling over nothing.”

“I would still humer-us you.”

He gave her a funny look. “You’re actually taking me seriously?”

“Why would I not? You are my friend.  Perhaps… my only friend, at this point,” she admitted.  It would be foolish to ignore a warning, even if it was based on gut feeling. Or, whatever skeletons had in place of a gut.

“Well.  Uh.  If someone, something, was behind the king’s… yeah. If it wasn’t the kid, whoever else it was might still be around. So.” He coughed. “Sounds stupid when I say it like that, huh.”

“It does not.  I think it is sweet that you are worried.” He wouldn’t be able to see her blush, thankfully. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her.

“Geez, Toriel.” He rubbed the back of his skull. “You’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation? Are you typically a monster with a heart of bone?” she teased.

“Nah. I just don’t worry. Too much work.”  It was difficult to tell if he was joking.  “Guess I can make an exception this once, though.”

“Why, thank you, my friend.”  She had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze his hand.  It would be more for her own comfort than his, so she did not act on it. “To be honest, your words are a relief. I do not mind the excuse to avoid this place.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “You got somewhere else you’d rather be?”

She both did, and did not. How could she explain without sounding like a clinging child?

...Perhaps that was the wrong metaphor. She would have preferred her children to be a little clingier.

“‘Cause, uh, if you don’t mind a bit of mess… my door’s always open.”

She blinked at the offer. Had he felt the thoughts stirring in her soul?

She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. And she had told him the truth: there were unlikely to be any other monsters she knew still around. Perhaps Gerson; she and Asgore had always joked that he would outlive them.

That joke seemed awfully morbid now.

“Sorry. Was that too forward? Our friendship’s built off closed doors; guess we should just take 'em one at a—"

"No," she interjected too forcefully. “No. I would love to visit your home.”

Though she had never set foot there, she already suspected it would feel more like a home than this place.

“You really—? Great.” His skull tinged the faintest blue. “Just, uh, know that it’s nothing fancy.”

Toriel smiled. “‘Nothing fancy’ sounds wonderful at the moment.”

Perhaps wherever he lived would be out of the way enough that news of her return would be delayed. If she could be lucky enough to pass for an ordinary monster… well, that was likely too much to wish for. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a queen to hide from her subjects.

Stars, there was so much to get used to. So many formalities to reacquaint herself with.  She hoped such things would wait until tomorrow.

Sans returned her smile.

“In that case, I know a shortcut.”

XXX

She handled the shortcut well for a first-timer. No stumbling on the other end, no complaints of nausea or dizziness. Of course, she was a Queen. A Boss Monster. Why would a magic trick ruin her composure?

Sans wanted to laugh. All this time, he'd been joking with the Queen. She didn't seem to mind, but she could just be “humerus”ing him.

...Nah. She had every excuse to ignore him if she really wanted to. Instead she'd actually taken him up on his offer.

He almost forgot to drop her hand once their feet landed in the soft snow. Heh. Who was he kidding? It was just nice to feel her fur under his fingers. To touch her, and know that she was real.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up, reflecting the gyftmas lights strung haphazardly around the house's columns. "I remember this place!"

"You do?" Sans's browbone furrowed.

"I saw it while travelling from the Ruins to…" she trailed off.  To stop the kid from fighting Asgore.

Sans felt stupid for not trying to stop them himself.  Not that a kid that determined would’ve listened, anyway.  Still… he’d believed in them.  Hoped that by some miracle, they’d get ‘em out of this mess.

Heh. That was too much pressure to put on a kid, even a determined one.

"Yeah." He coughed quietly. "Guess we're hard to miss. Papyrus did something to the Gyftmas lights—even when the CORE lights go out for the night, ours stay on. Never figured out how he pulled that off."

Toriel laughed before seeming to realize something.

"I will get to meet your brother!" She clasped her hands together. "I wish it had not come about for such an unhappy reason, but I am excited nonetheless."

He chuckled. Her excitement was contagious. That was something she and Papyrus had in common already.

He pushed the door open, called out for his brother—and noticed the monster sprawled out on his couch.

"Oh." Sans blinked at Undyne, who was snoring so loudly, he should've heard it from outside. Guess he'd been a little distracted. "Uh. This is awkward."

"What is it?" Toriel hung back, her head ducking through the doorframe. "Is your brother sleeping? I would not wish to wake him. You said he rarely sleeps, did you not?"

"Nah, it's not him. Forgot his pal's house burned down. Actually, I'm sure you met her. Undyne? Captain of the Royal Guard?"

"I… yes, we met." Toriel edged inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "She looks far more peaceful now than she did this morning. From what I understand, my ex-husband was something of a father to her."

"Something like that." Sans nodded in agreement. There hadn't even been a Royal Guard until Asgore created the position for her. Sans wondered if Toriel would keep it around now that Asgore was gone.

Welp. It wouldn't hurt, what with his suspicions about Papyrus's friend "Flowery." 

(Maybe Sans should let Toriel sleep on the top floor rather than the couch anyway. No dirt for stray flowers to get into up there.)

"Should we be staring?" Toriel said with a soft chuckle.

Sans shook his thoughts away. "Sorry. Just thinking. I, uh…"

There wasn't room on the top floor. Sans's lumpy, crumb-dusted mattress was out of the question. That left only Papyrus's bed, which while rarely in use, had too much sentimental value to give to Toriel without asking. Where was Papyrus, anyway?

"Undyne!" His brother practically kicked in the door. "I have returned with nutritious—oh!"

Papyrus's sockets blinked at Toriel. Then at Sans. Then at Toriel again.

(Undyne let out another loud snore.)

"Sans?”  Papyrus dropped his groceries on the table next to the pet rock. “Why didn't you tell me we had another guest??"  

Because he was an idiot who hadn't planned past one impulsive offer. His face went a little blue.

"I guest you would figure it out," he managed to joke. 

Toriel let out a bleating laugh at that. The suddenness of it was enough to jolt Undyne awake.

"NGAHH!!" She tried to leap off the couch, but ended up rolling onto the floor. "I'm here, Asgore! I won't—oh."

Her single eye blinked up at Toriel. 

"Papyrus?" Undyne hissed through her teeth. "Why didn't you tell me the Queen was coming??"

"Because I didn't know!" Papyrus replied brightly. 

"I, uh, promise I'm usually more professional than this." Undyne summoned an energy spear and used it to push herself to her feet. The attack left a small char mark on the carpet. "I am at your service, Your Majesty."

Sans thought she looked real professional in a pair of Papyrus's MTT-brand crop top pajamas. Toriel didn't comment on that though, instead opting for a matronly smile.

"There is no need for that, Captain. I am not here on business, but as a friend."

That smile turned towards Sans, and he fought back a blush.

"Yeah. I was just gonna, uh, make some dinner. Y'know, welcome our queen back with some Snowdin hospitality."

"Dinner?" Papyrus squinted suspiciously. "You don't cook dinner. I cook dinner."

"First time for everything, right?" Sans winked to hide his embarrassment. 

Of course Papyrus wouldn't buy his excuse. But he really didn't want his brother and Undyne worrying on top of Toriel. Granted, it was Undyne's job to worry about security threats… but she'd tear up the house's foundation if she thought an enemy might be hiding anywhere in a five-mile radius. 

"Sans," Toriel chided him. "You do not owe me that."

"Wowie! You must be a great influence on him, Bald Asgore!"

Toriel blinked before bursting out laughing. Sans's grin widened. 

"Her name is Toriel, bro."

"Of course!! Where are my manners?" Papyrus bustled past him to shake Toriel's paws. "I am the Great Papyrus! It's an honor to meet you, Queen Toriel!"

"The honor is mine. Sans has told me so much about you," she said, and Papyrus blushed pink.

"You? Know the new queen?" Undyne whispered to Sans while Papyrus and Toriel got acquainted.

"You know me. I know everyone." He winked.

"She came out of nowhere."

"Yeah. My bro and I know what that's like."

Undyne huffed, but Sans didn't offer a more thorough explanation.

Papyrus's affronted shout signalled that Toriel had dropped her first pun.

"I take it back! This is the worst day of my life!!" 

Sans met Toriel's eyes, and they both laughed.

"I suppose I will have to help Sans in the kitchen as my pun-ishment," she said with a coy wink.

"Normally I would object to a guest cooking, but in this case I will make an exception!" Papyrus turned on his heel and grabbed Undyne's arm. "We will clean up the living room in the meantime! Try not to corrupt the queen any further, Sans!!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro."

He gave a quick wink to Toriel behind Papyrus's back, and they moved to the kitchen.

"Did I actually upset him…?" She asked once they were out of earshot.

"Nah. He's just dramatic like that. He'll drop three puns per sentence when he thinks I'm not listening."

He turned away, rummaging through the fridge for something edible they could cook.  Discreetly, he tucked his empty chisp bag behind Papyrus’s spaghetti-filled tupperware.

“Oh, good.  I would not want to make a bad first impression.”

“Pfft. You’d have to try real hard to do that, Tori.  My bro sees the best in everyone.”  He smiled and pulled a “pupperoni” pizza out of the freezer.  It wasn’t anything fancy, but at least it would be edible.

He turned around, pizza in hand, and found Toriel staring at him oddly.

“What?”  His sockets widened.  “Uh, you’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She shook her head quickly, her gaze skimming off of his like oil from water.

“Pizza sounds lovely.  It has been quite some time since I had one.”

Sans didn’t pry, but he couldn’t help wondering what her expression had meant.  Had he said something weird?

...Oh.  He’d called her Tori, hadn’t he?  He should know better than to use nicknames without asking.  Papyrus hated them.

“Please, allow me.”  She held out her paws, so she couldn’t be too upset.

He handed over the pizza, and he jumped when fire flared to life in her palms.  For a moment he thought the fire would scorch the pizza beyond recognition, but the flames were just pleasantly warm.  He’d never known a monster other than Grillby to have such careful control of fire magic.

“Heh.  I didn’t know you were so hot, Toriel.”

As soon as he said it, he clamped his jaw shut.  Geez, how stupid could he be?  Making bad jokes was one thing, but flirting with bad jokes?

The fire went out.  She looked up abruptly—er, looked away from the pizza.  He was still a good two feet shorter than her.

“Tori was fine,” she said, her voice soft.

“Uh,” he replied intelligently. 

She suppressed a giggle, and he was pretty sure his face burned hotter than her fire had.  He could stand to take notes from Alphys and throw himself in the trash.

“Or not.  Whatever is comfortable for you,” she reassured him.  “Now, should we eat dinner before it gets cold?”

Eating was hardly something he could screw up at.

“Sure,” then after a pause, he tested, “Tori.”

Forget her fire magic.  Her smile could’ve heated the pizza all on its own.

XXX

For once in a hundred years, dinner was a warm and energetic affair.  In addition to the pizza, Papyrus had tossed together a salad from his fresh groceries, and Sans had briefly stepped out to grab a few orders of wings and fries.  In the end there was plenty of food for four hungry monsters.

Papyrus apologized for the lack of seating, but Toriel didn’t mind sitting on the couch squeezed between Sans and Undyne, eating off of paper plates.  She couldn’t imagine anywhere she would have felt more comfortable.

Before long, though, the day’s fatigue caught up with her.  She supposed it was to be expected—she wouldn’t regain her social stamina all at once.  

Sans caught her eye, and he nodded towards the stairs as Undyne and Papyrus “owned” each other in an MTT-Brand fighting game.

“Sorry.  I know they can be a bit much.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull.  

“They’re lovely.  I wish I had the energy to keep up with them.”  She smiled.

He leaned against the banister, smiling down at them.  Papyrus had gotten the upper hand this time, and was punching the air with joy.

“Me too,” Sans said, still looking away.  “I was thinking.  If you want a place to rest for the night, my bed’s open.”

She blinked.  Her face seemed to catch fire.  That was rather more… forward than she was expecting.  Sure, she had enjoyed his lighthearted flirting, and much as she tried to deny it, feelings had been growing in her for a long time.  But to have him return those feelings? And so boldly? It was as unfathomable as it was unlikely.

“I can get ya some fresh sheets, and I’ll crash in the shed.  My bro set up an, uh, guest room there when the human was in town.”

Oh.  She rubbed the heat from her face while he wasn’t looking.  How foolish could she be, to think he would be implying…? Well.

“I would not force you out of your room,” she said.  “If your brother prepared a guest room, I am sure that would be adequate.”

He let out a quick laugh.  “Uh, you’re not used to my brother’s… decorating.  Seriously, I don’t mind.”

She sighed.  If he insisted, she supposed it would be rude to deny his hospitality.

“Alright.  Thank you very much, Sans.”

“Great.”  He smiled back at her, then went into his brother’s room.  She waited patiently, and only jumped a little when he suddenly reappeared from the right hand door.  Perhaps the two rooms were connected in the back by a bathroom.

“Hotel Sans, one vacancy.”  He winked while holding the door open.

She chuckled behind her hand.  “You really did not have to resort to this.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t call it much of a resort.  The bed’s not even queen sized.”  He rubbed the back of his skull.

The bed was smaller than she was used to, but it did have fresh sheets.  That was the only fresh thing about the room.  Chisp crumbs had been brushed under the dresser, and… that was a tornado.  A self-sustaining trash tornado.  Though at least there was a pine-scented air freshener suspended in it.

“Sorry, it’s… really not much.  Uh.  Probably kinda insulting, expecting the Queen to sleep—”

“It’s perfect.”

He blinked.  “Huh?” 

“I am no stranger to a few crumbs, Sans.”

She remembered days that bled into weeks that bled into months.  Months where she couldn’t bring herself to clean, could hardly bring herself to care at all.  Months that had grown fewer and farther between since she’d met a friendly voice behind a door.

“I would’ve vacuumed,” he said sheepishly, “but I suck at it.”

More embarrassingly loud laughter burst from her.  In front of Sans, though, she didn’t feel the need to curtail her joy.

“Thank you.” She poured as much sincerity as she could into her voice.  

“‘S no problem, Tori.”  A light blue tinge warmed his cheekbones.  How could he possibly look so adorable? “Bathroom’s down the hall if you wanna wash up or anything.  And Undyne’ll be on the couch, so this is probably the safest place in the Underground right now.”

Her brow furrowed.  Sure enough, there was no bathroom door inside the room—he must have used one of his “shortcuts” to move from his brother’s room to here.

“So, uh.  I’ll be in the shed—uh, guest room if you need me.”  He flashed one more tense grin before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She stepped towards him without thinking.  

He looked up, one brow ridge raised.  She found herself biting her lip, wondering if she dared ask what her soul wanted.  It was silly, really.  She’d been on her own for years, decades.

Maybe that was why she was so hesitant to lose this one taste of companionship.

“I would feel… safer, if you would stay too.”  Her face burned beneath her fur, but she projected her usual composure.

“...Welp. Can’t say no to that, huh?”

She was about to reassure him that he could say no—that she was asking as his friend, not as his queen—but the soft smile on his face told her he already knew.  

He briefly left to grab a few things, then returned with a few pillows and, for some reason, a dog bed.

“You are not going to sleep on that,” she said in disbelief.

He flopped the dog bed in the middle of the floor and started fluffing it.  “Why not?  Gotta throw a dog bed a bone, right?”

“Sans.”  

The outdoor lights dimmed, as if at her command.  Only the colored Gyftmas lights outside and one dim indoor bulb lit the room.

Her confidence waned with the light.  What had she expected him to do?  She’d asked him to stay.  Unless she wanted to…

Oh, to hell with it.  She was too old to be so shy about these things.

“If you are not opposed,” she swallowed, “we could… share this mattress.”

When he looked up, she couldn’t make out his eyelights at all.  Their glow returned slowly, like the rising of the sun from her memories.

“Heh… you sure?  You don’t even know if I snore.”

She laughed and sat on the bed, patting the space beside her.  “You do not know if I snore, either.”

“Fair enough, Tori.”

They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom—she was imposing on Sans enough without adding the smell of dirty fur to his bed.  Then she did her best to ignore the flutterings in her soul as he slipped off his hoodie and climbed up onto the mattress.  She insisted he stay under the sheets; her fur would keep her warm enough with just the light blanket on top.  

The sheets were a barrier in name only.  There was only so much space on the mattress, so no matter how he adjusted and apologized, she could still feel the curve of his spine against hers.

It felt amazing.  It felt terrifying.  It felt like a mistake.  It felt like the only thing she’d ever done right.

The one saving grace of the whole situation was that it didn’t stir memories of Asgore.  Her royal beds had been triple the size of Sans’s lumpy mattress. She and her ex-husband had rarely slept back to back, and if they had, the feeling would have much different.

“...Tori?” Sans’s voice was just above a whisper.  “You, uh, still awake?”

As if she could sleep while enduring the wonderful agony of friendly touch for the first time in a century.

“Yes,” she replied softly.  “Am I taking up too much space?”

“No, ‘course not. I was just, uh… geez.” He sounded embarrassed.

Risking their precarious balance, she rolled over to face him.  Or to face the back of his skull, at least.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Doin’ sans-sational.” He chuckled to himself.  “Sorry.  Never got to use that one with you before.”

She would have laughed, had she not worried about shaking the whole mattress.

“It was sans-tastic,” she joked back, and he laughed again.

Then abruptly, his laughter cut off.

“Thanks, Tori,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

“What for?” She wished she could take his hand, see his face, learn what thoughts were passing through his skull.  Instead she gave him as much space as physically possible… which still was not much.

A long, silent moment passed.  Had he fallen asleep?

“I know it’s not how you wanted,” he finally said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you.  So.  Thanks.”

Warmth spread outward from her soul to fill her whole body.  Sans could probably feel it radiating from her.

“Thank you, Sans.  If I had to return, knowing no one…”

He rolled to face her.  His eyelights were mere inches from her pupils.

“You would’ve been fine.  All you had to do was tell a few of your amazing jokes, and the whole Underground would’ve been linin’ up to be your pals.”

She suppressed a laugh.  “I hardly think that would be appropriate, under the circumstances.”

“Eh.”  He shrugged.  “Plenty of monsters in town cope with jokes.  You’d just be relating to the common folk.”

She stared into his sockets a little too intently.  At this distance, it easily made her dizzy.

“Would you be included in that demographic?” she couldn’t help asking.

“When I first met you?  For sure.” His gaze darted away.  “But it’s crazy.  Between you and the kid… I’m startin’ to think there’s more to life than good food and bad laughs.”

“Really?”  She and the child had made such an impact on him?

“I know.  Don’t tell Papyrus.  He wouldn’t believe you, anyway.” He winked.

“My lips are sealed.” She smiled.

Silence hung between them.  It should have felt awkward, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away.  In the end it was Sans who yawned in her face and then hurriedly flipped back onto his other side.

She laughed, and clearly she was exhausted too, because she pressed a kiss to the back of his skull without thinking.

He froze.  She froze.  There was no way to play that off gracefully.  And there was no way she could fall asleep and pretend that it had not happened.

“Heh… those didn’t feel very sealed to me,” he finally rasped out.

It took her a moment to process what he meant.  Meanwhile her embarrassment only burned hotter.

“I am so sorry—”

“I’m not.” When he rolled back to face her, his face was bright blue.  “You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

His question was tinged with desperation.

“Of course,” she answered automatically, despite the many responsibilities that she would have to attend to in the morning.  She was the Queen once more.  If she had to, she could adjust the schedule of meetings and speeches to accommodate… this.

Whatever this was to be.

“Remind me in the morning,” he squeezed her hand, “that this is real.”

His hand quickly went limp.  She was worried for a moment, before she heard the faint snore escape his nasal cavity.

She gave him a fond smile, and allowed her own eyes to close.  She did not know if sleep would come or not.  She did not know what challenges the new day would bring, or what old challenges would continue to rear their heads.

But she did know that she was not alone.  For tonight, that was enough.

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Glass Swords

Summary:  Tovar knew he had bad luck–it came with the curse the witch gave him on his thirteenth birthday. Trapped in a contract by a band of bloodthirsty noblemen who use Tovar for his skill with a sword, he has all but resigned himself to a life of servitude. But then a job shoves him into the path of a princess who almost makes him smile. (Cinderella!AU)

Pairing: Pero Tovar/F!Reader

Warnings: None really. I make an allusion to the events of the movie but you don’t have to have seen it to understand this. 

Word Count: 4.8k

(Banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites​)

Or you can read on Ao3!

Once upon a time, there was a boy who seemed to have remarkably good luck. He was born to a wealthy, aristocratic family, and being the firstborn and a son guaranteed him a title of his own. His horse always came first in races, his opponents were always making simple mistakes in duels. He always had the keen eye to find a forgotten bit of coin on the ground. His first shot always hit its make when he was hunting.

Yes, Pero Tovar was lucky.

Until his luck soured at the hands of a woods witch.

On his thirteenth birthday, on a hunt with his band of friends and loyal servants, he darted into the forest to call for the hunting dog that had gone after gods-knows-what instead of the fowl they’d been hoping for when they set out. Again and again he called for the hound with no luck.

“Your dog has ruined my garden,” came a sudden voice behind him.

Pero turned to see a woman, old and shrouded in tattered grey robes, emerging from the forest shadows. An answering howl soon followed and a muddied hound bounded up to him, remnants of flowers and trampled vegetables hanging from his panting mouth.

And Pero laughed. What else was he supposed to do?

“For too long I have been held at the whim of your family. They have forgotten the treaty they signed when they came here, building your castle on my land and promising that you would provide. That you would never forget. But you have. And then you laugh when my little source of happiness was trampled by a hound.” Words tumbled from her chapped lips in a language he did not recognize and soon felt as if a bucket of icy river water had been dropped over his head.

“What did you do?” He hissed, feeling himself shake like a scared deer.

“I have made sure the world treats you as it treats me.” Her weathered mouth stretched into a smile he could see beneath the cowl. “But I am not cruel. I only want you to learn a lesson. But your lot seem stubborn so I would not be surprised if it took you the rest of your life.” She stepped forward and pulled a blade from the folds of her robes and Pero took an instinctive step back.

Almost instantly, his heel caught on a root and he tumbled to the moss-covered ground, pain zig-zagging up his spine as he landed.

The witch only laughed and continued forward. She twisted the blade in her hand and she held it out to him. And it was not as if he could say no. Not now. The short sword was clear—like glass. As soon as his hand wrapped around the handle, he felt the cold stone form to his grip, imprinting itself to his touch.

“When you’ve pierced the heart of a princess with your glass sword, then and only then will the curse lift.”

“A-a-a princess?” Pero parroted, feeling his stomach drop.

But the witch was gone and all he had was the glass sword.

His bad luck made itself known when he collided with his sister as they both rounded corners and she tumbled down the stone stairs of their home. Sancha was fine, thankfully but Pero would never forget how the blood pooled around her head or the scream she let out as she fell.

That was his fault. He knew it would only get worse as time progressed. He would not endanger his family. And so, Pero left a short note for his mother and father, telling them that he would return once he’d earned his honor on his own. The note he left for his sister told the truth, apologize for her injuring asking for her forgiveness even though he knew he already had it. Sancha was too pure of heart to ever hold any anger.

He set out. At first, trying to find another witch to counteract the curse. Then, to healers who promised anything and everything for the right price. And then, little by little, his hope faded. For a moment, he did consider driving the short blade through the heart of a princess—any princess—to just be rid of the curse. So he could see his family again. So he could live without worrying about bridges, loose bricks, or roots—or the millions of other things that the witch had made unlucky.

But he couldn’t. And in desperation to stay fed, he took up work as a mercenary. Another unlucky decision. It had led him to far flung lands that would have been an adventure to rival any explorer—he had fought creatures from another world!—but he did not enjoy any of it (aside from a few fleeting moments). And he could kill people who were trying to kill him all the time. Pero was good at it, he found. But it did not necessarily give him much opportunity to even know any princesses or be able to pick them out of a crowd so he could…stab them.

His bad luck continued.

When he failed to return to his employers, a group of nefarious noblemen from some country he didn’t care to remember, with the Black Powder they had requested, there were consequences. And now he was stuck in a contract, unable to leave his ‘employment’ because a bottle of ink had spilled across the contract and blotted out a very telling bit of information. He could not leave unless they were all dead. And if he broke that contract, his life would be forfeit.

He never would have signed—obviously—if he had been able to read that line.

But it was done. He was trapped. His bad luck mostly did not endanger his life—and he was sure the witch made sure of that. It would be no fun if it killed him and he was able to rest in death. The closest he had come to death because of his luck was when an ornamental sword fell from its hold on the wall and nearly took his eye.

One of the noblemen who benefitted from his terrible contract said the scar made him look fearsome. But he said it with a curdled milk smirk that rolled Pero’s stomach. It wasn’t a compliment, he knew.

And now he was called in by his ‘employers’ to settle another job. He vaguely listened—something about needing the little kingdom’s valuable port for some trivial reason and the easiest way to acquire the port was for Pero to kill at least the king and his eldest son so the second-born son could become king. Apparently, the noblemen who were employing him had an agreement with the power hungry prince. Pero was sure there were more details but he did not care to commit them to memory. He knew how to kill and his timeline.

That was all that really mattered.

But first, he needed to scout through the dense forest surrounding the castle to find a way in.

He weaved between trees as he started toward the castle. The outer perimeter walls had been easily climbed without drawing attention and while the surrounding grounds were vast, they were not heavily patrolled. As he continued to close the distance to the dark stone of the castle, Pero started to believe that this might the easiest job his contract had ever permitted him. The one solace he had was still being able to learn languages easily so he was able to learn of this mostly-unattended part of the perimeter wall by listening at the nearest market.

The sound of a horse’s hooves on the drying leaves drew his attention, his head whipping to the side, to one of the few bits of sunlight that slipped through the thick trees overhead.

It was a woman—one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, if he was being truthful—sitting atop a horse. She was smiling up at the birds as they sang in the branches. She was dressed in a simple smock and her horse was unsaddled. She was probably a maid from the castle.

But that did not detract from how his throat tightened as he looked at her. She was, after all, beautiful. It was almost embarrassing how he didn’t even realize she had spotted him until it was too late.

“Hello, sir.” Her voice was kind on his ears and he was instantly wondering if she would speak again.

“Hello, my lady.”

“Are you lost? It is not often I see strangers in the kingswood.” She nudged her horse toward him, uncaring of the danger strangers often present. Or maybe she was unknowing. There was a certain sweetness to her that Pero knew could not be feigned.

“I am hunting, my lady. I hope I did not disturb you.”

She shook her head. “I was not aware the king was having a hunting party today. I hope I did not scare away your prey.”

“No, my lady. I have just lost the rest of our party. Do you work at the castle?”

“Yes.” Her smile seemed to be hiding something but Pero thought little of it, instead focusing on how the light made her eyes sparkle.

“Do they treat you well? I am sure I could put in a good word for you,” he said, knowing his roguish smile was starting to cut across his face. He might have the worst luck but he still knew how to make a pretty woman smile.

And it worked because she demurely averted her eyes before biting her lip for a moment. “They treat me much better than they should,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I thank you for the offer.” She cleared her throat before looking at him again. “I can fetch you a bit of water or ale from the kitchens, if you would like? You must be parched.”

“No, no, my lady. But you are kind to offer.”

The sound of someone calling out in the distance had her turning her head with a frown. “I’ve lost track of the hour. I must go.”

And then her dark horse was setting off, galloping between the black-barked trees, and disappearing from sight before he could even ask for her name.

Pero did not find a way into the castle that day. He could have, but he didn’t. His employers allowed him another day of scouting in the woods and he happily took advantage of it and hoped his curse would subside just for a day, or even a few hours, so he might happen upon the maid again.

And his silent plea was heard as he found her at the base of a large tree, a well-worn book settled on her lap.

“Hello again,” she said as she spotted him.

“Hello, my lady.”

She patted the bit of grass beside her and Pero wavered for a moment before taking the offered seat. “Hunting again today?”

“No. I must confess that I was hoping to see you.”

Her answering giggle had something squeezing in the deep recesses of his chest. “Well, you have found me.” She closed the book carefully and turned to face him a little more. “What is your name? I have tried to guess it but I do not think any name I might have conjured would suit you.”

He could have told her his true name. It was not as if she would be able to stop him in his quest. But he knew to never think he could outsmart his curse. “I am Tovar.” And then he quickly added his title that he had not used in decades: “Marquess Tovar.” As if that would somehow make his lie about hunting with the royals more believable.

She gave him her name in return and then started to gently, simply pull him into conversation about anything and everything—from the animals he was unfamiliar with in the forest, to learning how the she grew up inside the castle and still got lost in its twisting, turning halls and rooms.

He knew he should be committing the hints she was giving to him about the castle’s layout to memory but didn’t want to. He only want to continue to hear her speak. She would ask him questions too, about how he was finding her homeland and if he still “did not require a bit of drink to slake his thirst from the kitchens.”

She was…sunlight. And such a sharp contrast to the darkness of the kingdom she resided in with its masses of dark stone, fog, and black wood trees. She did not deserve such darkness. Sunlight. She should have been bathed in sunlight, in warmth, in all things light and lovely. Not here. Not in the dark and cold. Even if it was her home—even if she called it home with a tilt of her beautiful lips.

“Tell me, Tovar. Are you coming to the Masque tomorrow night? I would like to see you again.”

“There is a Masque tomorrow?”

She nodded with another smile and stood, brushing the moss and dirt from her little dress and apron. “The King is celebrating his birthday and his daughter has finally returned from her time abroad.”

“A princess?”

She laughed and held out a hand toward him, helping him to his feet. “Yes. I thought the king would have told you about her when you were hunting.”

“I’ve only heard of his sons,” he said, not entirely lying.

“Either way, will you come to the Masque tomorrow?” She looked so hopeful, so happy. He could not tell her no. And it was with a soft kiss to his cheek that she bid him goodbye and he was left in the dark of the forest, watching her disappear again.

A Royal Masque. And a princess. Perhaps his luck was turning on its own.

This would provide the perfect opportunity for him—kill the princess and be able to dance with the woman whose lips pleasantly burned his skin.

**

It had been easy to procure an invitation to the Masque. It had been harder to find an outfit that would not gain him unwanted attention. The shops were nearly all too busy or too empty but he did eventually find a decent enough ensemble and matching mask without emptying his coffers too much. His employers had been pleased to know he had found a way into the castle without too much fanfare and seemed to approve of his plan to carry out their plot at the masque. (And if another royal died that night, who would think that it was not part of a larger plan instead of a desperate man trying to break a curse?)

Pero handed over his invitation to the major-domo standing in front of the black and gold doors and was finally ushered inside—even after a few of the knights eyed the short sword sheathed at his hip. The halls were filled with more shining dark stone and gilded suits of armor from centuries past. Paintings and tapestries were hung along the walls, depicting the kingdom’s fabled rise to power. Blooms of white flowers were littered about, a sharp contrast to the darkness that seemed to permeate each corner of this little kingdom.

No couples had already to the floor to dance yet but he did spot a few practicing an almost-familiar set of measured steps away from onlookers. The raised dais filled with a few ornately carved chairs—thrones, he supposed—was empty. His targets were not here yet.

But perhaps she was.

He scanned the crowd but did not spot her—even with everyone wearing masks, he was sure he would recognize her from leagues away.

Music suddenly blared, announcing the arrival of someone important. He turned with the rest of the crowd and listened as the royals were announced. There was the youngest son, the next, and then the eldest. The king was escorted by his daughter, but the answering applause and cheer drowned out her name and Pero could only crane his neck too much to try and get a look before he started to look suspicious.

The first official song was called and the heir apparent took the dance with his betrothed before other couples were allowed to join them on the gleaming wooden floor.

Pero continued to scan the crowd, briefly touching the small vials he’d hidden within his doublet, and found the servant in charge of bringing goblets of wine to the king without much trouble.

It was easy.

But then a woman dressed in fine clothes of the kingdom’s sigil was striding toward him, uncaring of the masses of people bowing and curtseying in her wake and she only slowed to a stop when she was right in front of him. This must be the princess. A mask of gold covered most of her features but her eyes sparkled in such a way that Pero could have sworn he had seen them before. They were alight with recognition and mischief.

“Dance with me,” she whispered.

“Your highness, I-”

The princess tilted her mask up and…

And that was when he realized, the girl from the forest and the princess…were the same person.

His fleeting moment of happiness had actually been another stroke of bad luck. How cruel.

She looked just as beautiful in her finery and jewels as she did in the smock she had donned in the forest. Her grip was gentle as she carefully started to lead him in the dance and didn’t laugh when he stumbled over her gilded shoes. Eventually, thankfully, he righted himself and was able to properly dance with her, letting the music guide his steps with her gentle corrections whenever he missed one or two.

“You’re a princess,” he said, hating the moment they left his lips.

“I am. Very astute of you, Tovar.” She laughed and stepped back from him as the song ended with a flourish and clapped for the minstrels. But then she turned back to him “Come with me,” she murmured, just low enough for him to hear. The princess didn’t wait for his answer and grasped his hands, quickly leading him through the crowd, some of whom tried to stop them, asking for his name, for a moment of the princess’ time, on and on it went. But she did not falter. Her grip did not loosen.

Not until they were out of the humid air of the ballroom and in the beautiful, cooled night air did she finally stop. Her smile was still wide and his face hurt as he felt himself trying to, unconsciously, mirror her expression. His face was not used to the movement. “What are you up to, princess?”

“I have something to show you.” She squeezed his hands once. “Do you have somewhere else you’d rather be? I don’t mean to steal you away if you have someone else waiting for you.”

Pero shook his head. “No. No, princess. I am happy to know you want my time as much as I desire yours.”

She bit her lip with a soft giggle. “Well, I do hope you like it.” She stepped back to link her arm through his, and continued to guide him down the shining palace steps and into the lush, green gardens. It was as easy for her to pull little bits of information from him as she tossed her golden mask into a bush without a care.

“Tell me of your homeland.”

“It is beautiful, your highness. Filled with sunlight and…” he drifted off, finally allowing himself to think of his home and family for the first time in years. “I miss it very much.”

She was quiet as he thought and did not seem to mind as he came back to himself—a familiar, gentle smile on her lips as she looked at him. “You do not strike me as a man who would leave someone or someplace you love so fiercely without cause. What pushed you to do so, if I may be so bold?”

“Bad luck,” he answered simply. “But tell me, why were you in the forest? Not once, but twice and without an escort or lady’s maid.”

Her face twisted into a pout for a moment. “I must admit that I do not care for every bit of royal life. It can all be so…tedious.”

“So, you snuck away?”

She nodded. “Donned my maid’s dress and took my horse from the stables while the hand was busy tending to my brother’s mare. It took hours for them to even notice I’d missed luncheon.”

“Did you not just return from abroad? I would have assumed that they would scarcely let you out of their sights.”

She shook her head with a laugh as they slowed to a stop in front of rusted gate she opened and waved him through. A secret garden greeted them, filled with all the color that the rest of the kingdom seemed to lack. Even in the moonlight, he could see the vibrant yellow, pink, red, and orange hues of the flowers that were growing haphazardly and unkempt by practiced hands. It reminded him, achingly, of the gardens his mother and Sancha would tend to on their own at home. They had always liked the free-roaming blooms over the careful structure of the manicured grounds.

“They like having me close, true. But underfoot is nothing but annoyance for everyone involved.”

“What is this place?” He asked, letting her pull him onto a simply carved bench in the center of the garden.

She turned to him with another smile—she seemed so fond of smiling. “This was my mother’s secret place. Free from the confines of my father’s kingdom and his advisor’s disapproving eyes. She would bring me here when I was little and teach me the names of all the flowers and how to care for them.”

It did not take long for Tovar to recognize the hurt in her tone.

He wondered if she heard it in his voice when he spoke of home. Of his beautiful family in Spain. Perhaps that was why he rarely spoke of them. But he wanted to tell her. Wanted to tell her everything. So, he tried. He told her of the gardens his mother grew and refused to let their servants touch. Told her of how the fields around his home smelled sweet in the spring. Told her of all the colors he had seen on his adventures—even if he had to omit some bits of information to not reveal his true profession. And she listened keenly, asking questions and always seeming to think whatever he had said was interesting. In turn, she told him of her brief time in her mother’s ancestral kingdom, learning all she could and feeling torn when she knew she had to return to her home kingdom.

He was hardly aware of time passing, or how close they had grown on the bench until he heard a crier announcing the time—it was nearing midnight. He turned at the sudden noise and his hand slid across the bench—and quickly earned himself a handful of thorns to the webbing between his fingers. He hissed but hurriedly stopped himself as her gentle, soft hands cradled his and started to remove the thorns one by one. “Bad luck indeed,” she said, teasing. “I had trimmed those blooms back.”

Bad luck.

Bad luck.

Bad luck.

The sword at his hip grew heavier.

He could do it. He could run the blade through her chest and pierce her heart and be done with this wretched curse. But her eyes were shining in the moonlight and she smiled at him and he…couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Seeming to sense his distress, her smile faded. “Tovar? What ails you?” She reached out toward him and the moment her soft hand touched his cheek…he fled.

Decades of running toward dangers left him in an instant and he ran like a coward. Out of the garden, through the crowded ballroom where people shouted for him to stop, and out into the courtyard.

He fled. He ran until his legs gave out.

And it was only then that he noticed his sword was missing.

**

Hiding in the woods was not the most comfortable of living quarters but it was not the worst he had used since he had run from home.

He would not face his employers’ wrath. Another job left unfinished would cost him his head, he knew it. To survive, he hunted and forged, only moving into the outskirts of the market when he truly needed to buy something—like healing herbs for when he cut open his arm on a low hanging branch, or new boots after his toe caught on a sharp stone and tore the sole clean off.

Perhaps it was his need to survive and not be noticed, but it took Pero weeks to realize that the kingdom was in a tizzy.

The King had nearly been murdered as the masque and his second son was implicated in the plot. A band of foreign nobles had been arrested and their heads now sat on spikes outside the castle.

But that was not all.

Apparently, the princess had been scouring the kingdom looking for the man she had danced with at the masque—who had left behind a very peculiar short sword; its handle seeming to fit only one man’s hand.

It felt silly to let himself hope.

Could he? Should he let her find him? The curse still loomed. He would not subject her to the danger that seemed to follow him. He could not-

“There you are.”

Apparently he had been ruminating too long and had not noticed the small band of people approaching him at the edge of the market. The princess—and he was loathed to admit that he had momentarily let himself refer to her as His Princess—was standing in front of him with her familiar, beautiful smile on her lips and his sword in her hand. She turned it over, holding the hilt toward him as he hastily bowed.

“This is yours, yes?”

He nodded and reached out for it, feeling the familiar hand fit into his hand like it had for decades. But soon a gentle warmth bloomed up his hand until he could feel it burrowing in his chest. Something had changed.

**

When the king learned of Tovar’s true identity, he was able to grant his daughter’s wish of allowing their betrothal. A son of duke of a wealthy kingdom was a worthy match—and the king liked to make his daughter smile, too, even if it was at the side of a foreign duke who came into palace looking slovenly.

But Pero was still nervous. Even if he no longer tripped on stairs, bricks did not fall and nearly crush his skull, animals did not dart in front of his feet. He wanted to be sure—after all, he had not delivered a heart to the woods witch.

But, on the eve of their wedding, as Pero paced in his ornate and comfortable bedchamber, a sudden blast of cold air had him turning. In front of him stood a familiar woman. Her robes were still tattered but she was…glowing. Near ethereal. The woods witch had come again.

“I could feel your worries from leagues away, little duke.” Her smile was all teeth and he knew to keep quiet. “While I would have preferred the actual heart of that beautiful princess, the curse has been lifted. That little glass sword led her heart to you. You are free. I promise you that.”

“I am sorry,” Pero said, feeling the words rush out as he looked at her. “I am so sorry, my lady.”

“I know,” she hummed before she glanced around the room. “She will like Spain more, little duke. I promise you that.”

Before Pero could ask for specifics, the witch was gone in another gust of cold wind.

**

Pero watched his wife’s smile grow broader and broader as their carriage drew closer to his castle.

The sun was shining. The air was sweet with the scent of springtime flowers and green grasses. It was filled with the colors he had promised her that night in the garden.

His family greeted them warmly and his sweet mother and sister cried in joy at finally having him back home while his father did look quiet near tears, too. Pero just watched it all with a smile on his face, so large and persistent it hurt his face.

“It is beautiful here,” she whispered to him that night in their bedchamber. “But, of course, I would expect nothing more from the land who gave me you.”

Pero kissed her, smiling against her mouth.

His glass sword was forgotten on their bedside table.

He had all he needed, all the good luck in the world, right here in his arms.

And they lived happily ever after.

The end.

A/N: please let me know what you think! 

[chazz-anova]

A Little Bit Of Magic - Chapter 1

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Lady Veronica Rook, a wizard turned rogue bounty hunter and part time thief, is approached by one of the King's men on a stormy night to acquire her services. Little does she know, she's setting off on a quest that will change her forever. (Fantasy!AU)

A/N: LITERALLY I saw one picture and that spawned this entire AU lmao, this has been a fun start and I'm excited for the rest of this little mini-series! I hope you all like as well <3

Dancing candlelight casted amorphous shadows on a bare stone wall. In the center of the room, a firepit blazed; warming the bones of weary travelers who sought refuge from a tempest storm brewing outside the walls of the inn.

Barmaids bustled from table to table, bringing stout ale to rowdy patrons. One such patron sat at the short oak bar, nursing a tankard of beer. In front of the customer stood a barkeep who looked rather piqued. “Veronica, every night you sit here and take up space that could be filled by paying customers. Pray tell, what must I do to squeeze some coin from you?” The woman asked, her sunny blonde hair bobbing as she swept a damp rag over the counter.

Across the bar, Veronica looked up from her stein with a smirk as she replied, “You’d just as likely squeeze coin from me as easily as you’d milk a dragon, Mary May. Is there not a special allowance for a friend who’s saved your life twice over?”

“If I’d known your aid would end up costing me damn near a barrel of ale in the long run, I would have gladly thrown myself into the jaws of death!” Mary professed dramatically, a small smile giving her away.

V rose her tankard high, proclaiming “And what you pay in ale, you make back doubly in entertainment!”

With a sigh- the barmaid stashed the rag she’d been holding under the counter. “Well allow me to take my leave, before your entertainment proves to be too much!” Mary May rolled her eyes as she departed to the back storeroom; Veronica always knew how to work her last nerve.

Now left to her own devices, the woman spun in her seat to analyze the other patrons. She hoped with any luck, she could swindle some coin from someone deep in their cups to secure a room for the night. Unfortunately- saving a friend’s life only afforded you free drinks, not free rooms. Having grown up in the streets of the Kingdom of Hope, Veronica trusted her pickpocketing skills; especially in a tavern such as this.

The Splayed Eagle Inn was run by V’s friend, Mary May, and had been her home for the past few months. All types found themselves in this bar, whether they be well-to-do, working class, or a simple ne’er-do-well. Of course- Veronica liked to think she didn’t fit into any of those categories.

Sitting around the main floor of the inn were a few possible targets, and our girl set to sizing up the first; an older man seated in the corner. He wore the garb of the royal guard. His complexion was that of worn leather, and his eyes scanned the room suspiciously. ‘Not a great mark..’ Veronica thought, shifting her gaze to her next person.

The person in question was not a person at all, but rather a dwarf. The short man guzzled beer from his stein greedily, egged on by two more of his kind. Finishing the drink he slammed down his cup and roared in revelry. ‘Though dwarves love gold and these ones would certainly have some coin, perhaps they are a hair too unmanageable for a robbery.’ Considering this, the woman moved down the list.

Just as Veronica was about to size up her next mark, she felt a hand on her shoulder. The blonde turned, expecting to see Mary May had returned to give her more grief. V was surprised to see an unfamiliar face and she immediately went on the defense, shrugging the stranger’s hand off her shoulder. “Can I help you?” Her words dripped with distrust.

The stranger met her eyes with a look of contempt, and V considered grabbing her dagger in case things became dicey. The woman who’d grabbed her shoulder stepped back now, regarding Veronica coldly with dark eyes. She wore a black fur cape with the hood up, obscuring her features, though her greasy black hair hung in matted locks on her shoulders. She lifted her hood to reveal a ghastly scar across her face. “Yes, mage, I do believe you can help me.” The stranger chuckled.

Hearing her true title, Veronica started visibly, but quickly recovered. ‘How does she know? Certainly this wench is no mage, I sense no magic in her! Is she an assassin from the Guild? Gods, Mary May will kill me if I’ve brought such darkness to her doorstep!’ V’s inner monologue was harried, in contrast to her cool voice as she rebuffed, “Mage? Surely you jest! I am but a humble adventurer.”

Spitting at her feet, the woman scoffed. “Save your lies! I already know of you, Lady Veronica, and of your discharge from the Royal Mages Guild. I come seeking your help in regards to your… new vocation.”

“And what would that be?” V continued to be difficult, her tone hostile. She didn’t like how much this woman knew of her.

“Bounty hunting, of course. Or was it not you that the Royal Guard granted a bounty to just a week ago for bringing in one of the Banshee Queen’s sprites?” At this, Veronica’s mouth drew into a thin line. She knew she’d been got. The ravenette shrugged, “I dare not judge, how else is a rogue witch to make any coin these days?” Though she put on a facade of good cheer, something dangerous lurked in her gaze.

A humorless laugh escaped Ronnie and she lifted her chin defiantly, “Even if you speak the truth, why should I help you, hag?”

Smiling cruelly, she retorted “It is not I who requests your service, but your King and country.”

“Well, his Kingly-ness will simply have to bring is ass down here if he truly wants me help!” V laughed, chalking up the woman’s words to a childish prank.

Suddenly- the stranger closed the short distance between them and the mage felt the tip of a blade threatening to pierce her gut. “I would recommend a modicum of respect for King Dutch. As his bodyguard, I may feel inclined to defend his honor.”

Under her breath, Veronica murmured ancient arcane words and a ball of flames appeared in her spread palm near the woman’s head. “And I may feel inclined to worsen your scar if you do not back away.” She growled the threat, feeling a rush of relief when the King’s bodyguard moved away. She would rather not release a fan of fire in her friend’s bar.

Sheathing her dagger, the woman took a breath. “Let us start over. I am Jess Black, bodyguard and right hand to King Dutch Roosevelt.” She gave a stately bow along with her title.

“Well Lady Black, what would you have of me?” V asked, voice laden with suspicion. Though she preferred to seek her own bounties, a requisition from the King was sure to bring decent coin.

As they began to discuss business, Jess took a seat next to Veronica and spoke vaguely. “Our ruler would have you retrieve a package for him, for a hefty reward.” When the mage said nothing, she continued, “I cannot divulge the details- but you will find what you need in the hamlet of Fall’s End with a cleric named Jerome.”

“Am I expected to go forward with such little information?” She shook her head in disbelief, finally finishing her drink.

“You are expected to do as our ruler bids! I have told you all I know.”

Veronica’s brow furrowed as she probed, “Surely his majesty has sent some sort of incentive, if it is truly he who sent you!”

Jess sighed heavily, producing a leather pouch from the folds of her cape. She set it on the bar with a clink, and V grabbed it immediately. “Gods, there must be nearly forty gold here!” She exclaimed, counting it out quickly.

“Our benefactor has put this forward as a downpayment of sorts, with the promise of more once he’s gotten his package. On the condition that you leave immediately.” Jess asserted with a nod.

The blonde eyed the gold hungrily- knowing she was on hard times. “Well if my kingdom needs me, who am I to resist the call? Though surely ‘immediately’ could mean ‘first thing in the morn’, with his Highness’s mercy?”

Putting a hand on the pouch of gold, the ravenette shook her head. “I must insist on your departure this night, King Roosevelt wishes for no delay in your meeting with Jerome.”

For a moment Veronica’s gaze shifted from Jess back to the pouch of gold, but she relented with a sigh. “It will take me a moment to prepare myself, and I shall make haste.”

Jess gave a rare smile, acquiescing “Your speed is most appreciated.” She turned to the back wall of the bar then, wondering aloud, “Where is the damn barkeep?”

With their conversation over and coin now heavy in her pocket, V slipped behind the bar to the back office where she’d stashed her travel pack.

Mary May’s office was small but tidy, featuring a large desk and business ledger. Sitting there was Mary herself, counting out coin into the safe next to the desk. Next to the safe was Veronica’s beige backpack, which May let her stash in the office during business hours. Hearing her footsteps, the blonde turned away from her safe to face V. “Ah, come to retrieve your loot without buying a room to store it in first? You must have gotten yourself a job.”

A smile crossed Veronica’s features, showing pearly white teeth. “You know me well friend, I must be off immediately unfortunately, so it would appear you’ll save some ale tonight yet!” She crossed the threshold into the room, leaning over the other to grab her sack.

“My, it must be an illustrious one to cause you to abandon a perfectly good night of drinking!” She chuckled.

This made the blonde stop a moment as she considered telling her friend the details. Thinking better of it, she instead said, “Nothing so fancy! I should be back in a week at the latest, try not to miss me too much!” Giving Mary May a chuckle., Before Veronica was fully out the door, she leaned back to say quickly “And be sure to give your worst service to the raven-haired patron sitting at the bar!”

V slung her sack across her back, weaving through Mary May’s drunken customers towards the front door. Once she cleared the room, she turned back one last time and saw Jess staring at her as she departed. The look on her face gave her chills.

The heavy door to the Splayed Eagle Inn opened with a prolonged creak, and gave way to a gust of wind that caused the mage to pull her cloak closer around her. She stepped foot into the deluge outside and hustled into the treeline, taking her first steps towards facing an evil she couldn’t begin to imagine.

[noctuaas]

AS YOU WISH

synopsis; in this tale of romance, revenge, and treason, you, a beautiful commoner, are set to become the princess of aobajousai. will your one true love be able to save you in time?

pairing; kuroo tetsurou x reader

content; princess bride au (heavily based on both the movie and novel), medieval au, torture, mild violence, drama, fantasy/adventure, murder, minor character death, fem!reader

fic navigation

02 ; THE GROOM

PRINCE OIKAWA WAS A MAN of great renown. There wasn’t a person in Aobajohsai that couldn’t recognize him in one swift glance; he walked through the kingdom with a swing in his dainty hips, which contrasted his mighty barrel thighs and broad, sinewy shoulders. His steps were surprisingly soft, and if he wanted to become a ballet dancer, he would probably find surprising success. But Oikawa didn’t want to be a ballet dancer. He wasn’t even in much of a rush to be king (considering he practically ran the kingdom anyway, what with his mother and father being too old and senile to do it themselves). Everything took second place in his affections, save for one thing.

Tracking was his love.

He made it a habit to never let more than a few days go by without tracking something down or training his hounds. It started when he was a young boy, with his parents’ two Irish Wolfhounds—off he would go with them, chasing rabbits through fields to add the stew that the palace cook was making for supper. Before long, he started studying other tracking sports, from fox hunting to coonhunting to even scenting out other humans, and became a talented tracker in each field. Once he was determined, once he focused on a target, the Prince was relentless.

For a while, Prince Oikawa traveled the world, acquiring hounds from the most prestigious lineages and persuading masterful hunters to mentor him. As his skill increased, he took to training and breeding his own dogs, creating Aoban pedigrees that had a name in and of themselves. Unfortunately, travelling consumed time, and the time away from Aobajohsai became increasingly worrying. Oikawa’s father was growing old, and as the only male heir to the throne, it eventually became time for the Prince to return home.

Instead, he took to roaming the Aoban countryside on weekends, accompanied by Count Iwaizumi on the horses he trained. (The Count always was a better horseman than the Prince.) Sometimes they paid visits to the far corners of the kingdom, but more often they stuck to day trips near the castle.

Prince Oikawa was walking out of the barn, two horses in hand, in preparation for one of these trips when news of his father’s health taking a turn made its ultimate intrusion. The sun hadn’t been up long, dew still heavy on the grass, when Count Iwaizumi made his appearance.

“There you are!” the Prince chided him, “You’re running behind, you know?”

(Other nobles of Aobajohsai might have gotten in trouble for such tardiness, but the Count was an exception. After he and the Prince grew up side by side, Iwaizumi was the only person that could raise his voice or lay a hand on Oikawa without consequence.)

“There is news,” Iwaizumi did not bother apologizing.

“Of?” Oikawa handed off the Count’s horse.

“I have the report of your father’s annual physical.”

A pregnant pause.

“He’s dying.”

Prince Oikawa sighed, a frown creasing his otherwise flawless cheeks. He wasn’t surprised by this news—the king’s health had been questionable for years now—but it certainly wasn’t how he would like to have started his morning.

“Well, I guess it’s about time I get married then, huh?”

“Looks to be that way, sire.”

Four of them met in the great council room of the castle: Prince Oikawa, his greatest confidante, Count Iwaizumi, his father, the aging King, and his evil stepmother, the Queen.

(She wasn’t really evil. In fact, she was actually one of the most beloved people in the kingdom, and had been married to the King since long before he began mumbling. Prince Oikawa had been but a child then, and since the only stepmothers he knew of were the mean ones from fairy tales and bedtime stories, he had decided she must be evil.)

“Alright,” the Prince began once they had all been assembled. “I must marry soon, so we have to pick a bride for me.”

“Yes,” the King said, “I’ve been thinking it was about time we found you a bride.”

(In actuality, he mostly just mumbled it, like, “Yesss, I’ve beennn thumbleee about temmmm wefumbbble bridddde.”)

“You couldn’t be more right, dear,” the Queen patted the King’s shoulder. She was the only person that could decipher his words during these little episodes.

“What did he say?”

“He said whoever we decide on will be getting a wonderfully handsome prince for a lifetime companion,” the Queen replied.

“Ah, well thank you, Father. You’re looking quite well yourself,” Oikawa chuckled back.

“It’s the new miracle maker, I’m sure of it,” the King piped in, wiggling a finger. (It came out mumbled again: “I’ssss the nmumble mumble.”)

“What did he say?”

“He said a man of your importance shouldn’t marry just anyone.”

“I suppose,” Prince Oikawa rested his chin in his hands before sighing.

“What about that Ushijima?” The Queen suggested.

“It would be a good match politically,” Count Iwaizumi admitted, though he knew how much the idea revolted Oikawa.

Prince Ushijima was from Shiratorizawa, the country that lay across the Aoba Channel. (They put it differently in Shiratorizawa; Aobajohsai was the country across the Channel of Shiratorizawa, according to them. The two countries had a history together, spending centuries warring each other. There had been the Rice War, and then the Tuna Fish Discrepancy, which nearly sent both nations into bankruptcy, the Fern Fiasco, which did end up running them fiscally dry, but it was followed by the Great Emerald Boom, during which they both got rich again.)

“He’s a handsome young man, I think we should bring him over for a discussion,” the Queen said. She was always the peacemaker in the royal family, a diplomat through and through.

“No, absolutely not!” cried Prince Oikawa. If it had been any other person, had Ushijima had a sibling or something, perhaps he would have mulled it over, but that wasn’t the case. Oikawa simply could not marry Ushijima.

“There’s no other heirs in any neighboring countries that would benefit us,” Count Iwaizumi reminded him, though he knew it wouldn’t change the Prince’s mind.

“I’ll marry a commoner before I marry that Shiratorizawa filth!”

“Boo, no Shiratorizawa filth!” the King chimed in. (“Booo, numble shumble zumfle!”)

The room quieted for a moment; they seemed to be stuck. Finally, the Count perked up.

“Maybe you can marry a commoner.”

Dead silence again.

“Look, your people have been a bit tense with us nobles the past few years,” the Count continued. “You could bridge the gap by marrying a commoner.”

“A commoner as the princess, what a fun idea!” the King said. (“Commumble as theprimmmble, whumble fum idea!” His words were becoming a tiny bit clearer; he seemed to be coming out of the episode).

“What did he say?” Oikawa still asked.

“Whoever it is must look the part of a noble. They should at least look nice,” said the Queen.

“Of course! I’ll find a commoner so beautiful that when you see them, you stop and stare, and say, ‘Wow, that Prince Oikawa must be some kind of fella to marry someone like that.’ That’s what I’ll do! Search the country, no, search the world!”

Count Iwaizumi furrowed his brow in thought.

“No, I think she is already found,” he said. An uncharacteristic smile crossed his face.

The next day at dawn, the two young noblemen reined in their horses at the hilltop by your farm. Iwaizumi rode a massive black gelding, stout and bulging with muscles. Prince Oikawa rode one of his whites, leaner and elegant. His mare made Iwaizumi’s mount seem like a lowly plow puller.

“She delivers milk from her family’s farm to the market square in the mornings,” Count Iwaizumi told him.

“And she’s truly-not-a-shadow-of-a-doubt-without-question beautiful?” Oikawa asked.

“You calling me a liar?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Oikawa chuckled.

“She was something of a mess when I saw her,” admitted the Count, still grinning in amusement. “But she was still one of the most beautiful people I have laid eyes on.”

From the bottom of the hill, you appeared, turning your horse (whose name now seems quite ironic) onto the path to the farm. Even from this distance, Oikawa knew Iwaizumi was right.

“I must court my princess, now.”

“Good luck,” the Count teased, unknowing that the Prince might actually need it.

And so the Prince rode on, maneuvering his horse quite expertly down the hill until he was at your side.

You blinked curiously when he approached. You had never seen such a man, riding such a brilliantly shiny horse and wearing such extravagantly crafted clothes.

“Are you Miss (y/n)?”

“I am. Who’s asking?”

“Your prince,” Oikawa grinned a dazzling grin. “I’ve come to ask for your hand in marriage.”

Marriage? You continued riding, with one eyebrow quirked incredulously.

“I’m sorry, sire, but I refuse.”

“You can’t refuse.”

“I just did.”

“But refusal could mean treason, and treason means death,” explained a very confused Prince.

“Kill me then,” you told him.

“But…” the Prince trailed off. For the first time in his life, he was left dumbfounded. Speechless. Shellshocked. He had not been prepared to be turned down, not even slightly.

“But I’m your Prince! And—” Oikawa was beginning to stumble over his words. “And I’m not that bad. How could you rather be dead than married to me?”

“It’s nothing personal, sire,” you soothed his ego. “But marriage involves love, and love has never been particularly kind to me, so I’m sworn to never love again.”

Prince Oikawa’s brows furrowed, creasing his otherwise flawless forehead.

“Love? Who said anything about love?” he said. “Look, here’s the deal. There must always be a male heir to the throne of Aobajohsai. Once my father dies, there will only be a king: me. All I ask is that you marry me so that I can provide a new heir to the throne.”

You stared at him silently.

“You’ll get to be the richest and most powerful woman in the country, and give away turkeys at Christmas and meet people from foreign countries. You could even provide us nobles insight to better help commoners like yourself. So won’t you be my wife?”

You paused again, looking back over at your family’s humble little house. Your father was growing older, and milking the cows everyday was becoming difficult with his aching joints.

“I won’t ever love you.”

“If that is what you wish,” Prince Oikawa said.

“Then by all means, let us marry.”

[b-else-writes]

the tiger shark and the sun

New chapter posted for my Star Wars/Avatar the Last Airbender-RebelCaptain fusion AU! Feat: prison break hijinks, unlikely team-ups, and Jyn and Han trying not to kill each other. And a bonus Enfys chapter!

Read on AO3 | read from start

Pairings: Jyn/Cassian, minor Han/Leia and Baze/Chirrut, random minor background pairings

Rating: T

Summary: Star Wars/Avatar the Last Airbender fusion AU. The Fire Nation, under  Fire Lord Palpatine and Lord Vader, has been at War with the world for  the last twenty years. When Jyn Erso lands on his doorstep the day  Cassian, last southern waterbender, is assigned to protect the Avatar,  she seems just another obstacle in ending the War. An obstacle he would  willingly remove. For exiled firebender Jyn, the Avatar is her last way  home - and to her hostaged father, never mind her own conscience. But as  their paths keep crossing, and the Avatar needs all help in saving the  world, Jyn and Cassian find they are more alike than they ever thought  possible.

Snippet under the cut!

Han was listening with half an ear as Erso poured out tea. It was a quiet night at the Western Air City. Both Luke and Leia looked sweaty from another day of Erso yelling at them to punch harder and produce more fire, worse than his old sergeant as a cadet. After that, Chirrut had put them through the paces of more earthbending training. Han absently moved a strand of hair stuck to Leia’s sweaty neck. She grunted in response and continued to lie on her stomach, face on Artoo’s belly. Han grinned to himself. He would admit he loved watching her when she was bending four elements like some kind of wrathful Spirit, but grouchy Leia was funny to bother.

“It’s nothing on Bodhi’s tea,” Erso was saying, smiling – wonders would never cease! – “But I tried my best. He also had a really bad tea joke.”

“Let’s hear it,” Chirrut, Baze, and Luke said at the same, then laughed. Han rolled his eyes behind his cup. It was some kind of black tea boiled in water and milk. Not bad. Nothing on Bodhi’s though. Han sighed to himself, hoping their resident soft-hearted anxious wreck was alright. The only people less inoffensively adorable than Bodhi Rook are probably babies. Erso refused to speak on the subject.

“*Well… I can’t remember the start,” Erso continued to her audience, “But the punchline was ‘leaf me alone, I’m bushed.’*”

“I don’t think that’d be funny even with the punchline,” Han said, as the three stooges cackled to themselves. Enfys looked up from the dusty papers she was reading, documents she’d rescued from Hynestia’s ruins, to roll her eyes at him. Pleasant enough – for a traitor. Erso’s face fell as she saw Cassian was distracted by maps and papers in front of him. Taking pity, Han spoke up, “Whatcha got there, Cassian?”

“A lot,” he said absently.

“Do tell me more,” Han said. When Cassian didn’t respond, Han reached over and poured the tea onto Cassian’s lap. Cassian nearly yelped. Kay leant over, trying to lick it. Cursing, Cassian waterbent the tea off and flung it at Han’s face, who ducked it with grace. Well, graceful for him.

“Remind me again why we’re friends,” Cassian muttered.

“I’ve got charm,” Han shrugged. Chewie snickered to himself behind him.

Feigning deafness, Cassian turned to the group. “Bunch of things. There are other battles going on and we’re trying to pull troops for the battle directly against Palpatine. Plenty of people didn’t come for the Day of Black Sun. For them -”

“The most important battles are for their homes,” Enfys finished. Cassian nodded, pointing towards marked out locations across the Earth Kingdom.

"Sullust, Troithe, Mindor, Naboo, Cato Nemoidia - there's guerilla warfare going on over the Earth Kingdom. It’s good for us in some ways. Once the Fire Lord falls, those who don’t surrender to Mon Mothma are going to dig in and become warlords if we don’t get rid of them first.”

“Joy,” Baze said under his breath. Cassian continued, “Then we’re decoding breakdowns on the Death Star from Jyn’s scroll. And we’ve started ascertaining who survived the Invasion. And if those missing were imprisoned instead of dead.”

“Anyone we know?”

Cassian’s face grew haggard, exposing the premature wrinkles. He looked less like the technically decorated war hero after the Siege of the North, and more mortal. “The death toll is…not good. But we have confirmation Lando was imprisoned.”

“No!” Luke and Leia cried, at the same time Han said, “Lando…Lando made it out?”

Suddenly Erso’s tea tasted of bile. Han set the cup down shakily. His sword lay in his lap. Its presence felt foolish. Who was he trying to kid, playing General? Lando had done most of the leading. Lando had stayed behind and paid the price for having real responsibilities. Had risked his neck to save him from Jabba. Lando and him went way back – there was a corner of the Falcon he still couldn’t quite look at after some activities back during the coaxium heist when Enfys was twelve – and now.

Leia squeezed his hand, kissing him gently. “We’ll get him out, Han,” she said fiercely. Han kissed her back, drinking in her big bright eyes, wishing he had all the power in the world like she did, and he could bust Lando straight out –

 Now, hang on a second there.

Chewie gave a nervous warble at his expression. Han told him shut up, I always have great ideas.

“Hey, Erso,” he said, as the morose group finished dinner and began to head off to bed, “Can I talk to you?”

She frowned at him suspiciously. Han raised his hands, walking off towards the edge of the atrium. She and Chewie followed after. Han stopped near the edge, staring down at the thick layer of clouds. He envied Enfys, being able to fly. Erso folded her arms expectantly. “Where would they have been imprisoned?”

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Erso said, “Knowing will make it worse.”

She turned to go. Han scowled. “Listen, Erso. He’s my friend. I owe my life to him.”

“It’s not good, Solo.”

Gritting his teeth, “Please.”

Erso paused. Her shoulders tightened. Then, “If I tell you, you’d better not do anything stupid.”

“Me? Stupid?” Erso turned and glared at him. Sobering, Han nodded, the lie easy. Erso studied him, glancing over at Chewie, who only growled.

Edging away, she continued, “There’s a story. I’ve only heard rumours. It’s called Fortress Inquisitorius. Highest security prison in the Fire Nation. They say it’s a tower in a boiling lake, on the volcano of Nur. Its run by elite benders, the Inquisitors, and Imperial Intelligence.”

“Volcano of Nur?”

“Volcano coming out of the sea. It’s only stories. People taken by the Inquisitors don’t come back. But that’s my guess for a high-level war prisoner.”

Han nodded. Erso gave him another sharp look before stalking away. “You are so paranoid!” Han called after her. She made a rude hand gesture.

Sneaking out was easier said than done. He, Luke, and Cassian all shared a large room, with Chewie sleeping on the floor. Luke had passed out immediately, but Cassian, stupid magic waterbender, had stayed up reading his papers and writing messages past midnight. Once he was certain Cassian was asleep, Han packed lightly. His sword, some picks, a dagger, food, and his personal map. He tiptoed past Cassian’s mattress. He’d explained to Chewie that there was no way he could smuggle a bear along. The bear had been instructed to warn the group if Han didn’t return in five days. Chewie had given him a big hug before that.

Han regretted leaving him behind already. Being on his own was weird. Carefully, carefully…

“Going somewhere?”

Erso dropped out of the shadows of the atrium. There was no point pretending. “It’s none of your business, Erso. I have to make this right,” Han snapped. What would Erso understand –

Okay, stupid. Erso probably understood perfectly. But this was Lando. Erso had never met him in her life. She wouldn’t get the history. Han didn’t particularly want to hurt her, but he rested his hand on his sword-hilt. She raised her hands, pausing.

He started towards the war balloon. Erso followed. “What are you doing?”

She raised a challenging brow. “I’m going with you.”

“I have to -”

“Die alone?” Erso’s eyes were hard. Was Erso, his former friend, worried about him? Han swallowed uncomfortably. “You’re going to a prison of elite benders. What exactly is your plan? Wave your sword around like a big boy?”

“Erso,” Han said warningly. She gripped the war balloon’s basket.

“Keep at this and I’ll scream my fucking head off and wake everyone up.”

Han swore. “Fine. Get in the damn balloon.”

Erso leapt fluidly over the side, landing in a crouch. With a few quick punches of her odd, rainbow flame, the balloon rose. Soon, they had left Hynestia far behind.

Han had a bad feeling about this.

keep reading

[ardentmuse]

A Woman’s War (Ned Stark x Reader)

Game of Thrones - Eddard (Ned) Stark x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 1.75k

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, and mild angst, pregnancy, childbirth, lactation and hand expression, talk of death

Masterlist

A/N: A spiritual successor to Promises Swept and Promises Kept. Should definitely read first as this is the same MC and same universe changes in my mind. Not exactly what anyone asked for, but what I wanted to write, so there you go. 

The creak of your bedroom door roused you from your sleepless daze, but you didn’t have the energy to turn at the intrusion. You knew immediately who it was and all you could do was smile as the sparks from the fire danced upon your walls, casting a shadow long and tall as the figure moved inward, as quiet as a mouse but as imposing as a tower. 

“My lady,” Ned’s voice whispered as he neared the edge of your mattress, his footsteps softened even more by the bearskin rug that lay at the edge of your bed frame. If you hadn’t been waiting up for him, you might not have heard him at all. 

Your smile only grew as you tried to turn to see his handsome face, even more handsome now that he no longer tried to rid himself of his lush, full beard as he had gained the habit of doing during his time in the Vale, as was more fitting of southern men. No, he was of the North now, fully and truly once again, and every part of you was grateful for just what that meant. 

His large, warm hand, pressed firm against your shoulder blade, pausing your movement. His skin upon your skin was electric somehow, like touching metal after playing with wool, but you longed for it all the same. You felt the heat rush to your face at how, even now, the simplest graze of his fingers could send your body alight. And when he whispered, “Don’t move, darling,” before the distinct rustling of clothes falling to the floor filled your ears, the burn only worsened and that fiery need that often came from Ned’s presence alone grew in the pit of your stomach. Ned was being so quiet, so soft, as though he feared he might be caught doing something he shouldn’t. But no one would question a lord visiting his wife’s chambers at night, especially not a lord like Eddard who dotted on his lady with such care and affection. But this was no conjugal visit. 

You felt the mattress sink down as Ned crawled into the space beside you. His bare chest connected with your back, the hair there a pleasant tickle upon your still-heated skin. He sighed into your neck as he slung an arm tightly around your form. His fingers pressed firm into the flesh of your stomach, swollen and stretched, though not for much longer. 

“My precious warrior,” Ned whispered into your ear as he kissed delicately along the skin of your neck. “I’m so proud of you.” 

You wiggled backwards into your husband; just a few shakes of your hips as that was all your body could manage at the moment. 

Ned held you still once more.

“What did I say?” he asked with a chuckle, his nose grinding into your shoulder in amusement. 

You laid together for several minutes, watching the flicking of the fire’s flames upon the plush grey curtains of your room, the moonlight shining a crisp white to contrast the warm golds of your hearth.  

After several minutes, Ned’s hands began to wander, traveling the soft curves of your flesh, through the valley of your breasts until he began softly kneading the swell of them. The action itself was a beautiful torture, easing the pain and drawing attention to it all the same. You let out a hiss as the leaking began and when Ned felt the moisture of your milk, he seemed to be stirred to take in the room. 

“Where’s our son, my love?”

“With the wet nurse for the night,” you admit, feeling a flush of guilt pass through you. Disappointing Ned felt like tearing the stars from the sky some days. You swallowed once before continuing, “I did the first few feedings but after that, I was simply too tired, Ned. I needed to rest. I’m sorry.”

Ned’s head pulled itself from its home against your neck. He lifted himself on his elbows until the handsome expanse of him was hovering over your body. You rolled slowly onto your back so you could meet his eyes, the beautiful grey storms of which you loved so much. But right now, no storm existed, only the brilliant calm of silver ocean.

“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Ned’s voice was a forceful whisper. “You went to these past few days. You fought hard. If rest is all you require, you are tougher than most men. Tougher than me, I know.” 

His hand came up to brush at the tears that were rolling down your cheek at the shame of sending your son away. Ned was smiling down at you, soft and sweet, before leaning forward to kiss you gently upon your brow. 

His voiced dropped down to a wisp; so soft and sharp you would have mistaken it for the crackle of the fire if you hadn’t been watching his mouth move.

“I’ve seen what this can cost, my love. Watched it with my own eyes. Your safety is more important to me than anything. Anything.” 

You hated reminded Ned of Lyanna but sometimes it simply happened. This had been your fifth labor, and probably not your last if you were being honest with yourself. Ned loved being a father almost as much as his children loved him, and you could see no reason to deny him the pleasure of a keep overflowing with offspring of his flesh. He’d gone to battle for you once, so it was fairly easy to find motivation to do the same for him.

Not to mention, you still, even now after almost eight years of marriage, still had trouble keeping your hands off of each other. 

You sighed as Ned returned to your side, pulling you flush against him once more. His hands didn’t stop their exploring and soon you were but mush against his body, allowing his calloused fingers to ease away a world of soreness and pain.

“Could you…” you whispered but your voice trailed.

But you didn’t need to finish. Ned knew this routine. His hands came up to your breast once more, pushing the flesh inwards and then gently rolling out in a gentle rhythm so ingrained that you worried that you might have desexualized your body for him with how often you’ve found yourself full with milk and full with child. The gentle roll of fluid was soaking your shift but the release of pressure from your breast was certainly going to help you sleep. 

And Ned didn’t seem to mind assisting one bit. 

Soon, Ned’s voice popped through the silence again.

“Why weren’t you asleep when I entered if you’re so tired, my sweet?” 

Ned’s hand slowed as the firmness of your breast released, returning to the softened tissue you were used to. He moved without request on to your other breast and you loved him all the more for how little ever needed to be spoken between the two of you.

“I was waiting for you,” you said, feeling a lightness at the honesty of it. “I’ve missed you.” 

The growl that escapes Ned’s lips is feral and raw, though his touch stays feather-light, tender and healing. 

“Aye,” he said, his accent growing stronger with his need for you, “My bed is too big without you.” 

This pregnancy had been harder than any since your first. You had been scared thinking you might have had multiple babies growing inside of you with how quickly you swelled but the maesters had been right. Your son was just a large, healthy baby, eager to come to this side of the world. And given that you had still been breastfeeding your littlest, it seemed that you had been pregnant much earlier than you thought. 

Come your sixth moon, your maester had advised you both that you would be best to sleep alone as to not disturb your womb. He had said all this to you with a stern voice, though he never looked at you and only your husband in his reproach. It seemed it wasn’t a secret to anyone in your keep just how often your husband sought out the pleasures of your body, though certainly the feeling was mutual. 

You knew that in the south, most nobles had separate chambers and that lords came to their wives’ rooms when they had need. But that tradition always seemed so foreign to you. In the north, where sharing body warmth was often a matter of life or death when the snows began to fall, the idea of spending so much time apart from your spouse seemed wrong. You had already spent your long engagement apart, and your days thrown in the midst of ruling your kingdom, that sometimes the night was the only time you had together. Besides, just toiling away in a room awaiting your husband to call upon you would have made you feel like a whore or a broodmare somehow, just with a fancier title.

No, you were Ned’s partner, his wife, his respite from the harshness of the world, and spending over two moons sleeping in separate quarters to take away the temptation of each other’s touch was simply torture. 

And the temptation was strong, for Ned seemed to find nothing more erotic than knowing your womb so eagerly quickened for his seed.

You knew Ned would come to your bed  the moment the maesters cleared it. And even then it had been two days since you gave birth. Two days of waiting for your bleeding to reside and your blood pressure to return to you. This labor had been fast but more complicated than any previous. You were grateful for Ned’s precautions – though the reason he put them in place always pulled at your heart – because you weren’t quite sure you’d be sitting here as healthy as you were this time around without them. 

“Sleep, my love,” Ned cooed in your ear, his hand now running down the length of your hips to wrap tight in the light fabric of your shift, as though working to prevent his hands from going any further, from exploring the parts of you that were his alone to feel. “We’ll sleep in our bed tomorrow.” 

Something about the promise of it, the lack of question in his words, calmed your aching heart. You nuzzled into your husband’s side as sleep took you in earnest for the first time since you’d been pulled away from the man you loved, the only man who could take away your pain. 

All tags: @fangirlandnerd, @aerdnandreaa, @thisisbullshytt,  @cancerousjojian, @whovianayesha, @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @luna-xxxxx, @sleepylunarwolf​, @starryrevelations, @potter-thinking, @all-by-myself98, @bananafosters-and-books​, @cutie-bug​, @igotmadskills​, @hazelandcoconuts​, @yallgotkik​, @amberkay284​, @the-new-galahad​, @13ofjuly​, @daft-not-punk​

[phoenix-downer]

Of Which Reason Knows Nothing Chapter 1

I’m happy to post the first part of the project @chibiranmaruchan and I collaborated on! They drew the art, and I wrote the fic. Working with them was a lot of fun, and I’m really happy with what we’ve created. The first chapter I’m posting today, and the second I will post next Friday. I will also be posting this story to FFN and AO3 if those are your preferred reading spot(s).

Length: ~2100 words

Summary: Kairi may have lost someone important, but she isn’t alone, and she isn’t without hope. And her mysterious dreams just might have a clue as to Sora’s whereabouts…

Characters: Kairi, Sora’s Mother, Riku

Additional Info: Implied Kairi/Sora, Riku and Kairi friendship. Post-Kingdom Hearts III. Referenced Character Death. Guilt, Grief/Grieving, Angst, Comfort, Dreams, Friendship.

Enjoy!

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Facing Sora’s mother was one of the hardest things Kairi had ever done.

Knocking on the door to Sora’s house had required all of her courage as it was. The cheerful welcome sign hanging on it, with its blue letters against a sunny yellow background, was downright mocking. What could she even say? She wasn’t welcome here. It was her fault Sora was gone; her fault he—

“Kairi?”

She couldn’t even look his mother in the eye. Her throat was dry and all of her carefully planned words fled her mind.

All that came out was, “I’m sorry.” Not that any apology could ever make up for what had happened, for the loss of someone so dear to them both.

“Sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault.”

Her eyes snapped to his mother’s. They were just like his, blue as the sky, only clouded with grief. Seeing them was like a punch in the stomach.

“It was,” Kairi said. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

His mother shook her head. “No. Riku told me what happened. It’s because of you that he even lived.”

Kairi had to choke back a sob at that, and his mother just wrapped her arms around her. She didn’t resist. She didn’t have the energy to anymore.

“I miss him so much,” she said as the tears started to stream down her cheeks anyway.

“I do too.”

His mother invited her in after that, for tea and cookies. It actually helped a little, being near things that reminded her of him. Like a part of his soul still lingered on. It helped to tell stories about him, too. To listen to his mother’s stories.

“When he came home the night before you two and Riku set off,” she said, stirring the sugar and milk into her tea, “I knew something special had happened.”

Kairi perked up. “Oh?”

“He couldn’t stop smiling. Couldn’t focus on anything, especially not his dinner. Just had this big dreamy grin on his face with a faraway look in his eyes as he spilled his rice all over his lap. I figured it had something to do with you.”

Kairi smiled a little. “It did.” She thought of how he’d looked at her after they’d shared the paopu fruit and felt all warm inside. “He has such a beautiful smile.”

“That he does.”

They sipped their tea and nibbled on their cookies and kept sharing stories about him. But the shadows outside were growing long now, and Kairi needed to get home for dinner soon.

“Before you go,” his mother said, “would you like to see his room?”

Kairi’s heart pounded. “Is that… is that okay?”

“Of course. I thought… maybe, if it helps you, you can look at his things.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

One by one her feet took her up the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last, till the door to his bedroom was right in front of her.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe it would be better to—

“It’s okay. You can go in.”

His room hadn’t really changed all that much since she’d last been here. The floor was still cluttered with stuff, old toys and clothes and knick-knacks, as he hadn’t been home long between his return and his Mark of Mastery exam. But despite that, it was well dusted, and if she didn’t know any better, she would expect him to come bursting through the door any second now.

One of his hoodies was strewn across his bed, the red and black one, and she couldn’t help herself. She walked over and picked it up, then hesitated and looked back towards his mother for permission.

“Would it be okay… if I borrowed this, for now?”

“Of course. He’d want you to have it.”

Kairi nodded and pulled it over her head. It still smelled like him, and wearing it felt like he was giving her a hug.

His mother gave her an understanding look. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Kairi couldn’t bring herself to sit on his bed, but she did look around his room a little. Resting on his bedside table was a letter – her letter. She picked it up, mouthing the words as she read along. She remembered how her hand had flown across the paper, the words spilling out of her heart as her memories of him had returned. 

“Starts with an ‘S,’” she murmured as the page in front of her blurred. His expression of pure joy as he ran through the water popped into her head. Would he still have smiled if he knew the fate that awaited him? That only a few months later, he’d be dead because of her?

She set the letter back down. In their final moments together, he’d smiled much like he’d smiled that day, and she had to wipe her eyes. Even the happy memories were bittersweet now. But something told her he wouldn’t want her to be sad, and so she did her best to remember the good things. 

After returning home, dinner went by in a blur. Her appetite still hadn’t recovered, and she could only pick at the delicious food her mother had made, stir fry with pineapples and paopu fruit. The paopu fruit reminded her of Sora, of the cave drawing, of the special moment they’d shared as they’d fed each other the fruit. Not even meals were safe from her memories.

Going to bed was a struggle, too. When she wasn’t lying awake for hours on end, thinking about what had happened, she was having nightmares about it instead. A sharp pain in her back as Xehanort struck the killing blow, over and over again. Sora slipping right through her fingers and falling into the abyss. No matter what he did, no matter what she did, they could never reach each other. She always woke up, alone, with tears streaking her cheeks.

But with Sora’s hoodie on, things felt a little better. She felt a little closer to him. She sent Riku a quick text, then Xion and Naminé, before putting her Gummiphone back on the bedside table. 

Maybe tonight she’d finally be able to sleep.

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Neon lights, flashing colors. An enormous city with skyscrapers pointing towards the moon, trying to reach the heavens but getting pulled back down to earth. Water on the ground in puddles as raindrops splashed into them, disturbing the surface of the water, reflecting the surroundings like a mirror. 

Kairi had never seen this place before. It wasn’t The World That Never Was – the buildings didn’t match. This was somewhere new, somewhere different. 

White paint on the ground. Lots of lines running across the street. Big billboards running dozens of different ads at the same time. Cars with bright lights, too bright in the dark. The sky a strange shade of purple with ominous black clouds. A big white tower with the numbers 104 in neon red letters. 

She glanced at one of the puddles nearby. A face with blue eyes and spiky brown hair stared back. 

Her eyes flew open. “Sora?”

But the dream was over already. What was that place? A big city… a building with the numbers 104… and Sora, somehow. In some place she’d never been before.

Could it be—

No. It was better not to hope. Better not to get her hopes up. And yet… all of her past dreams about him had just been repeating the same things over and over again. This was new. 

She grabbed her Gummiphone and made as many notes as possible so she wouldn’t forget her dream, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, she opened her phone to see what it said:

104 Building

Puddles

Sora

Really? That was really all she had written? Curse her sleepy brain for not being thorough. Sighing, she pulled up her chat with Riku. Time to arrange a meeting with him.

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As the mayor’s daughter, Kairi’s house was up on a hill a little ways away from everyone else’s houses. To reach the street where Riku’s house was, she hopped on her bike. The wind whistled through her ears as she descended the hill, reminding her of all the times she’d raced down this very hill with Sora and Riku. The roads on Destiny Islands were mostly dirt ones, and it was quite the bumpy ride.

Riku’s house looked much like the other houses on Destiny Islands did, but it was nonetheless charming, with its red brick roof and cute shuttered windows. As she approached and parked her bike (no need to worry about locks, no one really stole stuff from each other around here), she noticed smoke was coming out of the chimney. Maybe his mother was cooking something delicious for breakfast.

After a quick knock on the door, Riku invited her in. She removed her shoes and arranged them neatly, then stepped up into the house. 

“Sorry for intruding!” she called in the customary way. No one actually thought you were intruding when you visited, but it was the height of bad manners not to say the little phrase. 

“Welcome to our home,” his mother called back from the kitchen. After exchanging pleasantries, Kairi gave his mother a thank you gift for allowing her to visit, macarons in a nice box with a red bow from the bakery. 

Riku led her into the living room after that, and they took a seat on the couch. He poured them both some green tea, then settled back and said, “So, you said there was something you wanted to talk about?”

“Riku, do you know what the numbers 104 mean?”

He frowned. “104?”

“Yes. I saw them in a dream.”

She explained as much of the dream as she could remember – the building with 104 and the puddle with Sora’s reflection in it. The other details were hazy, but she remembered thinking she hadn’t been there before, and she told Riku as much.

“So, a place you don’t know. These weird numbers. And Sora. You think it might be a clue as to where he is right now?”

She nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, But I thought… maybe… I was just grasping at straws.”

“Because you want to see him again.”

She didn’t say anything. Riku was right on the munny, as always. 

“Trust me, I know the feeling,” he said with a sigh. “I keep hoping and then wondering if it’s just wishful thinking. But this, this sounds like an actual lead.”

“What makes you think that?”

She had to hear it from someone else. She couldn’t trust her own heart to be honest with her anymore.

“Well, for one, you said it’s somewhere you’ve never been before. Your nightmares were always places you’ve already been, right?”

She nodded.

“And you saw that building with a very specific number. Why would you remember a detail like that?”

“Well… the four at the end stuck with me.”

While residents of Radiant Garden considered the number thirteen unlucky, four was the number of death on Destiny Islands. The hospital didn’t have a fourth floor. The numbering went from three on the third floor to five on what should’ve been the fourth floor. The school didn’t have a fourth floor either. So to see it on a building like that when she knew Sora was—

“You think you saw him in the afterlife, don’t you?” Riku said.

She nodded again. “It’s the only explanation I can think of. But how is that even possible? I thought that once you’re dead, that’s it. You cross over whatever barrier there is between the Realm of the Living and the Realm of the Dead. No more contact with the people you’ve left behind.”

He shrugged. “If our journeys have taught me anything, it’s that there’s a lot I don’t know about how reality works. But one thing I do know is that if anything can last beyond death, it’s the bond you and Sora share.”

Tears pricked her eyes. Why was she always on the verge of crying now?

Riku awkwardly patted her head. He was trying, he was really trying, and that made her cry even harder.

“Hey, we’ll figure something out,” he said. “You and Sora are both too stubborn to let each other go. And luckily for you both, I’m too stubborn to let either of you go.”

She laughed through her tears at that. Sora might be gone, but at least she still had Riku. At least she still had the rest of her friends. Together, they’d find a way to bring Sora back.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Check back next week for Chapter 2!

Quick edit: You can see the art @chibiranmaruchan made here! 

[katedoesfics]

Shadows of Hyrule | Chapter 78

Link quite literally slept through the next two days, only getting up when his stomach demanded that he eat. When his phone alerted him to a call or text, he lifted his head enough to check to see who it was from. Unless it was Mipha, he mostly ignored these alerts. He would have slept through the rest of the summer if he had the chance, but there was still one last thing he needed to; return the Master Sword. The Triforce on hand was a reminder of that. It was dim, but it had been pulsing softly ever since he and Zelda sealed Ganondorf away. He knew he couldn’t waste any more time, but a part of him was sad to part with the sword. It wouldn’t be there waiting for him, leaning against the wall in the corner of his room. As anxious as he was to get back to his normal life, normal life seemed rather dull.

Still, Link finally pulled himself out of his bed, and without a word to his father or his friends, he left the house with the sword and made his way back to the forest where he had found it. If it were still there. The last time they tried to close the portal, the forest seemed to have mysteriously disappeared with no explanation at all. This time, however, the forest was there, just as he had remembered it, seemingly waiting for the return of the Master Sword.

There was no voice to call to him, but he didn’t need it to guide him like he had the first time he wandered through. It was as if he had navigated his way through the bizarre forest time and time again; he knew the path like the back of his hand, picking his way over the brush, weaving in and out between the trees. He was unfazed when a fog crept in around him, but just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, and soon the forest opened up into the meadow. In the center, in the light of the sun, was the pedestal that homed the Master Sword.

Link looked down at the ancient pedestal, covered in dirt and moss. There was a deep slit in the center where he had pulled the sword six months ago. And now, it was time to return it, though it felt as if he were saying goodbye forever to a very close friend. He turned his gaze to the sword in his hand and let his fingers run over the blade. He turned back to the pedestal and before he changed his mind, he placed the sword back into its hold, pushing it in until it would not go any further. He kept his hand on the hilt for a moment, then pulled upwards, but the sword did not budge. He let a light sigh escape his lips, then worked off the string of the charm his father had given him and slid it into his pocket.

“ Goodbye, Master... Thank you...”

Link looked down at the sword and smiled. He saluted it casually before turning his back on it and making his way out of the forest. Once he was passed the treeline, he looked over his shoulder, expecting the forest to disappear. Though it remained, he was sure it would be gone soon enough, protecting the precious weapon that now slept within.

*****

When Link returned, Daruk, Revali, and Teba were waiting for him.

“Where the hell have you been?” Daruk asked.

“Yeah, way to ignore our texts,” Revali said. “Now that you got a girlfriend you’re too good to respond to us?”

“Yeah,” Link said. “Because those group messages were so important.”

“I don’t know how I got dragged into that,” Teba said. He sneered at Revali. “Why the hell did you add me to that?”

“But if you weren’t in it,” Link started, “you would have missed all those gems like.” He paused and fished his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through the messages. He grinned and pointed at the screen, reading the text out loud. “When someone says ‘hold your horses’ they are telling you to be stable.”

“It’s true!” Revali said. “I just realized that!”

“Were you high?” Daruk asked.

“Yeah, probably,” Revali said with a grin.

“What do you want?”

“We are here to discuss the official disbanding of Hyrule’s Champions,” Revali announced.

“Excellent,” Link said. “Just in time. I just dumped the sword.”

“Aw,” Revali said. “Now you’re not cool like the rest of us.”

Link rolled his eyes.

“Do you think you can handle the city this year while we’re off being awesome?”

“Don’t be like that,” Teba said. “You know he’s gonna miss us terribly.”

“We are the only friends he’s got,” Revali said with a frown. “Poor Link.”

Link shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“He’s got a girlfriend now,” Daruk said. “He’s already doing better than you.”

“But does he get laid?” Revali said. “At least I got laid.”

Teba snorted. “When was the last time that happened?”

“Hey,” Revali snapped. “I’ve been a little busy saving the world.” He turned back to link. “Speaking of the Yiga Clan.”

“No one was talking about the Yiga Clan,” Teba said.

“Look,” Link started. “I talked to him, alright?”

“And?” Daruk asked.

“And,” he said slowly. “He told me not to worry about it.”

“That’s exactly what they say when we should be worried about it.”

“He has it under control,” Link said. “We don’t need to be involved.”

“Maybe he’s the one with the Yiga Clan,” Revali said.

“Shut it,” Link growled. “I’m staying out of it. I trust him.”

Revali nodded. “Alright. Fine. If Mr. Hero says it’s fine, then it’s fine.” He wiped his hands together. “Won’t be our problem, anyway. Just remember, you’ll be missing half your crew. Don’t get into trouble. Or killed.”

Link smiled. “You take the fun out of everything.”

“I’m going to miss this,” Revali said, then shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll find someone in college to pick on.”

Link frowned. “You’re replacing me? I thought we had something special.”

Revali winked and threw him two finger guns. “Come on, men” he said, turning away. “I still got some partying to do before I gotta ditch this city.” He turned to Link over his shoulder. “Not you.”

“It’s fine,” Link said. “I’m gonna go get laid.”

Revali threw his hand up in the air, half of a high-five. “Nice!”

Teba shook his head and lowered Revali’s hand for him. “Come on, Idiot,” he said. “Or I’m ditching you to get laid, too.”

Daruk followed them out of the driveway. “I can’t believe everyone’s getting laid except me.”

*****

The rest of the summer went just as Hyrule’s Champions hoped it would go. They stayed out late and slept through the mornings, more often than not in each other’s company in one way or another, and usually with three extra tagalongs; Aryll, Riju, and Teba. They spent their days roaming the city or keeping the local restaurants open with their bottomless pits. And from time to time, they dropped by their favorite arcade, only to be chased out by the owner an hour later after an unruly game of laser tag.

And everywhere they went, they were recognized. Children ran up to the for autographs. Teens asked for selfies. Even the older crowd seemed to regard them with a respectful nod, despite the varying degrees of gossip and arguments that had ensued following the first media outbreak. And when it got to be too much for them, they escaped the city to the countryside, returning to their favorite lake with a case of beer.

But the summer quickly came to a close, and before they knew it, Urbosa, Daruk, Revali, and Teba parted ways with their friends to begin their first year in college. Urbosa moved south to the Gerudo region to study law at a prestigious college. Daruk went to Akkala to a school known for their boxing and wrestling teams, which he decided to get into, proudly stating to his friends that he would have to hold back, otherwise there would be no challenge for him.

And despite his father’s refusal to help get into college, Revali managed to follow Teba to a school in Hebra, stating that he would have a babe on each arm and a suit made of ‘hundos’ when he graduated. As far as the group knew, he simply went in with the intent to get a degree in business, but whether he would actually graduate was an entirely different story, considering the college was known to be one of the biggest party schools in the kingdom. “Well, there’s nothing else to do up there,” was Revali’s defense.

The city - and their lives - were much quieter once their friends left for college. But senior year was quickly approaching for Link, Mipha, and Zelda, with promise of heavy work loads and one final push for college applications. It would be enough to occupy their minds and give them a normal life once more, but still, they couldn’t help but to miss the way things were a year ago when the group was whole.

But the night before their first day of senior year, they were all dragged into another group text message, courtesy of Urbosa.

My little babies are seniors tomorrow. Pack a healthy lunch and study hard! I’m looking at you, Link!

Revali didn’t hesitate to jump at the opportunity to tease Link. Let’s be real here. He’s not going to college. He’s gonna milk the hero thing for the rest of his life.

Teba’s response was next. Why am I a part of this…

Because youre our cheerleader, bitch, texted Revali.

Revali we’re sitting next to each other. There was a lull in the chat for a moment until Teba texted again. Revali punched me.

Urbosa responded with an emoji shaking its head.

You bitches are coming to my first fight, Daruk texted.

Link doesn’t condone violence, Revali said. Make love not war guys.

Dude, Link replied. Youre like a 3 days drive away.

Its a 4 hour drive, loser. Dont you miss me?

Link replied with a heart emoji. So much.

Why dont you stick it in his butt, came Revali’s mature reply.

Don’t be jealous of our relationship, Link said.

Does Mipha know?   Teba asked.

We have an open relationship, Mipha finally chimed in.

Does that mean youre open for business? Revali said.

Eat shit, Link quickly replied.

Link and Mipha sitting in a tree, Revali texted.

Oh shit, Link said.

Revali finished the song with a series of kissing emojis and various other symbols that suggested more than kissing.

Omg dont tell her that Link said.

Link, we’re dating.

He responded with two blushing emoji faces.

Where the fuck is Zelda, Urbosa texted.

After a moment, Zelda’s text came through. Hylia, why have you put me into this insufferable group of people.

You love us, Revali said.

Destiny,  Daruk said. Isn’t that kinda her thing?

We belong together, Revali texted.

Revali is singing, now, Teba said. I cannot believe I’m stuck with him for the next four years.

Welcome to my hell, Link said.

I’m muting you all, Zelda said. Some of us have school in the morning.

Suckas, Revali said.

Revali, you do, too, Teba said.

I didn’t come here to go to school.

Good night idiots, Zelda said.

Good night my precious lil babies, Urbosa texted. I love you all and i hope you have a good first day of school! Send mama pictures! And BEHAVE!!

What happens if we don’t behave? Revali asked, following that with a series of winking faces. Are you going to spank me?

Zelda left the chat.

Mipha left the chat.

Link left the chat.

Urbosa left the chat.

Ha.

Daruk left the chat.

FUCKERS.

Teba left the chat.