#taking a small break so I don't kill the magic too quick

[weirdsht]

Hello! Good morning lol. I hope you're doing well :₱ i gotta say ur writing is good and addicting. I keep coming back it's eating me alive

I have a thought abt ur recent yan!cale post :₱

What if Cale actually got sum magical jewelry on the reader that prevents their risky, suic1d∆l powers from working? The reader realizes it's basically stuck to them and is unable to take it off, remaining stuck unless someone powerful in magic, like Eruhaben, removes it personally. They feel off about it at first, though they eventually accept it because it was Cale who really wanted it on them, and they believe that he's someone who wants nothing but the safety of his loved ones. But then---

Reader gets kidnapped, gets harmed in the worst way possible-

Lol sorry, idk why but yandere cale is so-

😆💞

Blood-Red Garnet - Yan!Cale/Reader

notes: my visualization for the bracelet

tags: gender-neutral reader, yandere cale, torture and injuries (nothing too graphic), hints of possessiveness, hints of unhealthy relationship and dependency but reader doesn't realise it

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

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A shiny gold bracelet with a piece of blood-red jewel in the middle was dangled in [name]’s face by Cale. It was a gift, or so he says. Told the ability user that it’s both an accessory and a preventative measure.

“Preventative measure? For what?”

“For your abilities. I don’t want you dying on me because of your reckless power.”

[Name] wore the bracelet even though they were hesitant at first. Their ability was their primary way of fighting. However, Cale was right. That ability is too dangerous. Plus, they still know how to wield a sword and fight hand-to-hand combats so they should be fine.

“By the way you can only use your abilities if I allow it or if a dragon dispels the magic on that thing.”

Right..?

Apparently not.

[Name] desperately stares at the three pieces of garnet in their bracelet. As if it would magically come off if they stared at it hard enough.

When the ability user first got the bracelet they were happy whenever they looked at the garnet it holds. The colour reminds them of Cale’s hair. Reminds them that the young master gifted it to them because he was concerned for their well-being.

However, now the jewel brings them frustration. The enchantment was placed on those three small circles. If only [name] can remove them.

Then maybe they won’t be subjected to this torture anymore.

“Your beloved commander won't save you. Just tell us where he is right now and whether or not his unconscious. We’ll let you have a quick death once you do.”

“If I’m gonna die either way then I’ll gladly keep everything to my– AHHH!”

[Name]’s words got cut off as another one of their fingers was broken by the torturer interrogating them.

“Are you sure you can take more of this? I can still break your toes if you’re so adamant.”

The torturer mocked them. Gently caressing his fingers over their feet before looking back again at their messed-up fingers.

[Name] merely laughs. They might be beaten up and have no way of fighting as their ability is suppressed, but they won’t say anything. Not now, not ever.

“Torture me all you– keugh! All you want. You won’t get an ounce of information from me.”

Despite being beaten up and coughing up blood, the ability user still had a smile on their face. A mocking smile that seems to rival their torturer’s mocking tone earlier.

The torturer’s face contorts in anger. He looked as if his ready to kill the ability user. Honestly, [name] thinks that would be better. They were getting tired too, they didn’t know how much more pain they could take.

Craaaaack! Psshhh

Just about when the torturer was raising a sword to inflict more pain on [name], a red thunderbolt suddenly fried the man. He was thoroughly burned to a crisp, almost like chicken deep fried in oil.

It was so strong that everyone within the vicinity could feel the anger of those thunderbolts.

And [name] didn’t need to see where it came from to know that it was Cale who did that.

“[Name]! We’re here to rescue you! I’m sorry for being late, I’m sure Saint Jack can heal you…”

Raon spoke in their head while supporting their back. His voice sounded as if he was crying. [Name] could also feel their back becoming wet.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine”

The ability user comforted the toddler. They want to pet him but it’s impossible due to the state of their hands. Raon nodded, his cheeks squishing on [name]’s back. Once he regained his composure he used flight magic on them so they could get out of the cell.

Crash! Bang! Tak!

Outside was chaotic. At the centre of that chaos was Cale and all of his ancient powers running rampant. His face was contorted in something that can only be described as fury. All their other friends had to keep their distance because it almost looked as if the redhead was not in the right state of mind.

“The human has been like that ever since you got kidnapped! I don’t think I’ve seen him that angry.”

Raon tattled as they went closer to Cale. Despite looking like his out of his mind he had enough sanity left to create a path for [name] and Raon.

Cale’s face softened for a moment when he was face to face with [name]. However, it didn’t last long once he saw their state. There’s blood flowing out of their mouth. Wounds of varying degrees littered across their body. Not to mention the absolute wreck of a state their hands are in.

“I’ll be fine.”

[Name] tried to assure Cale who was stroking their cheek. But he isn’t having it. He could see how the ability user is using every fibre of their being to not wince. Probably so that Raon won’t cry anymore.

“Yes, you’ll be fine.”

Cale will make sure of it.

But for now, he must take care of these lowlifes that dare touch what’s his.

“Sleep. When you wake up we’ll be back home.”

Following Cale’s words, [name] closed their eyes. Succumbing to sleep as if the chaos happening behind them didn’t exist.

“Raon, Saint Jack is down there with Rosalyn. Tell him to make sure not a single scar will remain on [name]’s body.”

His negligence already allowed someone else to take his [name], he’ll be damned if he allows another man’s mark to linger on their body.

“Once we get home let’s ask Eruhaben-nim to put some defensive spell in that bracelet.”

“Let’s do that human! We’ll be going now! Be careful, I know you’re angry but you can’t cough blood!”

With that, the toddler used his magic to [name] to where Jack is. Leaving Cale to run wild.

Best to say that no enemy got out of that place alive after Cale was done with them.

[tieflingtareon]

My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 35 | Words: 5.4k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

Despite seeing his face through Vellioth's eyes, the man before him was nothing like the spawn he'd once been.

"Who stands before us? Is this truly our prodigal son?" He'd been expecting them. Or perhaps he simply couldn't be surprised. He likely heard them when they descended into the chapel. Tar'eon gripped the hilt of his blade tighter. His smarmy face irked him.

"Do not slouch before me, boy! Have you no respect for yourself?" He was so quick to shout that it actually made Tar'eon flinched ever so slightly, even when his words were not directed at him, but instead Astarion who was glaring at him. The vampire spawn did, however, stand taller than before. "Look at you, crawling back after abandoning your family. You should be begging our forgiveness."

"Forgiveness?" He scoffed. "You've never forgiven anything. Every mistake, every slip was punished!"

"I strove for perfection in all things - even those as imperfect as you. A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts."

"No! No...fuck you, and fuck everything you've ever done to me!"

"You don't get to talk to him like that anymore. He doesn't owe you anything." Tar'eon glowered. Cazador bothered to look at him now, but it was like he was looking at shit on his shoe.

"Have you fallen so far that this speaks for you?" He gestured to him, and Tar'eon could see why the spawns under his heel had so little confidence in themselves. He knew just the right thing to say to diminish one's self esteem, to get beneath one's skin.

"I don't need anyone to speak for me." Astarion snarled.

"No, you always had a gift for words." Cazador drawled. "I fondly remember your empty boasting, your tired jokes, your endless prattle..."

"No! Shut up!" Astarion's voice broke around the demand. He'd been mocked enough by Cazador. He wouldn't take it any longer. He had no right to tell him he spoke too much when he never shut his mouth, always going on and on until their ears would bleed, begging for his lectures to be over.

"They told me you had changed. I dared not believe it." Cazador spoke like a disappointed father, and Tar'eon felt his own shoulders growing tense. "Oh thankless child. Did I not bless you with our immortal gift? Did I not make you what you are?"

Tar'eon could see Astarion's anger getting the best of him, reaching out to stop him on instinct, but it was too late.

"You son of a bitch!" Astarion rushed at his old master, wanting to finally wipe the smug look of his face, but a slam of his staff halted him. Astarion gasped softly, eyes wide as magical bonds kept his fists firmly in place, no matter how he pushed to break them. An old, familiar cloak of fear came upon him, sending ice into the centre of his bones as he looked up at Cazador.

"You truly forgot my power. You truly thought our bond as creator and creation was all that stopped you from killing me? Hm?" Cazador smiled wickedly. "Oh, you are weak, my child. You are a small, pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything."

Astarion groaned as he felt the bond clamp down tighter on his wrists, like claws of the devil sinking into flesh and bone. Cazador's bond had always hurt like fire and ice in ones veins. He thought he'd truly been free of it - how foolish had he been to believe so.

"Let him go!" Tar'eon swung his blade at the vampire lord, only to be thrown back with a solid thud against a pillar, grasping it last second when he threatened to keep sliding off the edge of the platform. He grunted as a sharp pain ripped through his shoulder blade.

"Tar'eon!" Astarion looked away from Cazador to check on him, but an invisible hand forced his gaze back to his masters.

"But today, you will finally do something worthwhile. You will burn, and I will ascend." Cazador smirked, and Astarion's felt the urge to vomit. He really had damned them, hadn't he? He walked them right into the wolves den. They were going to die; everything in his body told him so. He was conditioned to believe Cazador untouchable. He grunted as he was flung across the room, crying out as the magic wrapped itself around his body, feeling like it was burning its way through his skin. Cazador hadn't lied when he said he'd burn.

"Astarion!" Karlach yelled as Tar'eon managed to get himself to his feet, the fear on the vampires face like a punch to the gut.

"Stop him! Get me out of this!" Astarion cried out, clenching his teeth to suppress the urge to scream.

"Witness the birth of the Vampire Ascendant! Ecce dominus!"

"There will no ascension today, Szarr." Jaheria assured, magic on her fingertips before fire shot out with a shout, a wall created across the ritual circle. It left Cazador on her and Karlach's side, but it left Tar'eon with a direct path to Astarion.

"Go!" Jaheria shouted and withdrew her blades, striking down a wolf-like creature and letting Cazador feel the heat of daylight before he could mist away, Karlach cleaving her way through flapping bats. Tar'eon was left on his own, but he had less opponents, thankfully. He slashed at the ankle of a monster, toppling it as he span past a skeleton, smacking it away with a whip of his tail so he could get to Astarion.

"Tar'eon!"

"It's alright, I've got you." Tar'eon swore, stabbing a bat through the head as another sank its fang into him, grunting as he threw the other off his blade and into the chasm below, sinking his sword into the second. Pain was a great motivator to keep moving. His shoulder blade most definitely took the brunt of the impact when Cazador threw him, and he could feel it, the sharp ache from his shoulder to his bottom ribs.

He reached up and grabbed Astarion by his forearms, dragging him down and out of the ritual circle below him. Astarion gracelessly fell on top of him, panting frantically and eyes wide as he reached to the side for his bow, not caring if he was lacking any armour now. It had fallen into the abyss, but his bow and arrows had been caught on the edge, tangling up in his cape by some of kind of divine luck. He quickly tied the cloak around his neck and drew back an arrow from where he was straddling Tar'eon, piercing an arrow into the eye of a beast.

"Are you okay?" He breathed, looking down at Tar'eon with worried eyes.

"I should be asking you, it hurt just to touch you." Tar'eon admitted, his hands still tingling, like he'd put frigid hands over a campfire. He'd admit though, being slammed into the ground twice in the span of five minutes was not fun, and not helping the massive bruise forming on the right side of his body.

"I'm fine, he almost toppled you off the damn platform." Astarion huffed and stood, withdrawing another arrow. "He may try to target me, he needs me to complete the ritual, so I can't get too close, not while he has the staff." Tar'eon got to his feet with a groan and adjusted his grip on his sword.

"I've got you. He won't get past me again." Tar'eon assured and ran forward to slash his blade across another beast. He could see Jaheria fighting with all she had to keep creatures at bay as Karlach rammed into Cazador with the strength of a thousand men. The wall of fire broke as Jaheria was shoved back by a minion, but she quickly recovered by whipping them across the room with a vine, throwing them far over the edge. She couldn't change into her wildshape, not while the enchanted sunlight on her swords were needed.

Astarions back was pressed against his as they unleashed arrows and spells upon the minions, Tar'eon amplifying a particularly nasty thunder spell with three sharp notes on his flute. He didn't do it often, but it was a fun time when he got to use his music as a weapon. Picking off his minions made targeting Cazador himself a lot easier. The daylight spell was doing wonders against the man.

"I'm going to enjoy this." Astarion murmured as he pulled his bow taunt and let the electric arrow fly into the vampires back. Cazador gave a mighty cry of indignation, convulsing before he whipped around with a glare. Tar'eon grinned, the urge to kiss the delightful smirk on Astarion's lips tempting, but - he couldn't.

Gods, he never thought he'd have to hold back his affections. It was agonising, knowing they still cared for each other yet he couldn't. He was the one who said so, too! If Astarion chose to take Cazador's place...he would never kiss him again. Gods, it sounded like the worst fate imaginable to him, as melodramatic as it sounded. Curse his morals.

He hadn't lied when he said he'd have a part of his heart forever. That wasn't going to change any time soon.

"You ignorant, arrogant, pathetic-!" Karlach cut Cazador off with a mighty swing. The vampire gave a cry of outrage and vanished into mist once more, slipping away into the sarcophagus. They all took a moment to catch their breaths in the silence, Jaheria sparing a healing spell to help them with the surface aches before she took a few paces back.

"Take a seat by the stairs, we can't harm them." Tar'eon warned her, gesturing to Astarion's siblings who were still trapped within the ritual, even as Cazador laid dormant.

"Aye, aye, captain." Jaheria chuckled and limped her way towards the stairs, taking a seat on the bottom step. Just far enough away as she waited for the enchantment to time out. Her thigh was a bloody mess from a pair of claws, but she had suffered far worse. She would survive.

"That bastard-" Astarion stormed over to the coffin and shoved at its lid. Cazador didn't get to take a nice little nap, not while he still had things to say! "No, no. No healing sleep for you. Wake up!"

He grabbed his shoulders and threw him to the floor, Tar'eon taking a few steps back and eyeing the weakened vampire cautiously. He hadn't doubted that they could defeat Cazador, but had worried they'd leave worse for wears. He felt battered and bruised, honestly, and he'd only managed a few long distance attacks with his limited supply of spells.

Cazador scrambled to his hands and knees and crawled around to face his spawn, sneering.

"Get your hands off me, worm!" Astarion laughed.

"I'm not the one in the dirt." He glanced down at the blade on the ground, Cazador's own favoured dagger that he had used to slice into their flesh with. It felt poetic to finish him with it.

"One last thrust...and I'll be free of you." How long had he yearned for this? Since the first punishment? The first hunt? The first time Cazador remarked on his sweet screams? He deserved this. He let him torment him for centuries, as Cazador bent him to his whims, made him follow his every command. He tore him down and broke him in ways no mortal man could. He took his freedom from him. His life. He had no doubt that Cazador was waiting, biding his time to sink his fangs into him. He probably sicked those Gur's on him too. Everything - everything - was his fault. He could only do this now because Tar'eon gave him the chance to escape, without even realising it. The tadpole in his skull was a goddamn blessing.

"I'll never have to fear you again." He had been blessed, and now, he would reap the rewards. He would steal everything from Cazador, like he did to him. "But if I finish the ritual you started, I'll never have to fear anyone. Ever."

He almost waited for Tar'eon to say something. To persuade him. But there was nothing but silence. He really was leaving this decision to him, wasn't he? It left a bitter taste on his tongue. Like Tar'eon had given up on him, but hadn't he wanted that? For him to give up the argument...?

Perhaps. But not with the ultimatum he gave him. He couldn't let his lover blind him from what he needed. He needed this power, this revenge, he needed it all. He only hoped it would finally fix all the damage done to him. That he could be reborn. Be better in every conceivable way. Tar'eon would see once it was over...he'd see that it was for the best.

"You think me a fool? That I would allow anyone to usurp me, speak the words, and ascend in my place? Hm?!" Cazador smirked. "The runes in your flesh bind you and all seven thousand souls to the ritual. Complete it and those bearing the scars will be sacrificed - you included. You were simply a means to an end. I made you to be consumed."

"I am so much more than what you made me." Astarion glared down at him, the master he once feared was nothing by a pitiful man at his feet now. He much preferred it this way. He would revel in his screams while he burned. If all souls bearing the marks of the contract would be sacrificed...he simply had to pass his own mark onto another. Nothing would make him happier than tearing into Cazador's flesh like he had him.

Except...he couldn't see the scar. He turned to Karlach, who seemed to understand instantly what he wanted from the question in his eyes alone, shaking her head. He didn't bother looking at Jaheria. She wouldn't help. His only option was...

He looked at Tar'eon, eyes unsure as he licked his dry lips.

"I...I can do this. But I need your help."

"Didn't you hear him? If you complete this ritual, you'll be consumed, Astar." Tar'eon shook his head, eyes wide in shock. "I can't let you do that. I can't help you kill yourself."

"I'm not trying to - Gods, I need your eyes."

"I can't do it. All those people, Astarion...I can't let you kill them. I can't let them die."

"These people died years ago, trust me on that. All that's left is feral spawn, desperate for blood. If we release them, how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?!" Astarion steeled his gaze. "But if they die, and I ascend, I won't have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I'll be free - truly, completely free. Isn't that what you want?"

He was asking him to put his freedom above seven thousand others. He was asking him to damn so many so he could walk by his side in the sun, so he could do anything he wanted, do everything he wasn't allowed to before. He was asking Tar'eon to give him the freedom he lost when Cazador turned him. Tar'eons heart almost wanted to give it to him. To tell him 'yes'. That that's all he's ever wanted for him. To see Astarion free and happy. Is this truly what Astarion wanted? Did he really want this, despite knowing what would happen to all his victims?

Tar'eon looked into his eyes, and he fell deep into them. He could see the fear there, the fear that always lingered below the surface. He was frightened, but he was not pathetic like Cazador told him he was. Even Tar'eon could smell the thick blood in the air, feel the thrum of power of the ritual. He understood why it would cloud his mind, the hunger to rid himself of all weaknesses. But Tar'eon loved all the weak parts of him as much as the strong parts. He didn't want them to be lost forever.

He didn't want to lose Astarion. Yet all Astarion could see was the power in front of him - a power that would allow him the freedom to do anything. Be anything.

"I can't help you kill innocents. I have enough blood on my hands for a lifetime, Astar. Please...I know you think this will set you free, but it won't. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador." Tar'eon stepped close, slowly rounding Cazador so he could stand by Astarion's side. The vampire glanced up at him before lowering his gaze, eyes falling shut with a pained expression when Tar'eon tucked his curls behind his pointed ear.

"I want you to live a life you can be proud of. Whether I'm there or not, I know you have the ability. The heart. You can't be proud of this." Tar'eons voice was tight and low, wanting only him to hear the truth of it all. "I know you think you're some kind of monster, that you're heartless and unlovable, but you are so much more than that. You're more than what I can make you, Astar. One day, when I'm nothing but bone, you will continue to be a good person. Because that's who you are. You are not what he made you." Tar'eons eyes stung, blinking them back. Perhaps these words weren't only for him.

"You are not the hate, or the pain, or the honeypot. I know I'm asking you to give up the sun, but I will spend every day of my life trying to return it to you, if you let the Black Mass stay buried in this chapel. I'm not asking you to choose me. I'm asking you to do the right thing...to be true to yourself. I know you can make the right choices. You've been doing it all along, even without me."

Tar'eon cupped his face, thumbing along his cheekbone, skin cool like marble. He would gladly wake up to this face every morning for the rest of his life. He'd find a way to get rid of his urges, he'd change his name, his face, if needs be to escape whatever crusaders came after him. He would endure sleepless nights forever to keep this man safe. To keep him at his side, Bhaal's blood be damned.

"Don't become him." Astarion's brows furrowed, his lips thinning for just a moment before he opened his eyes and looked up at him with glossy eyes.

"It's not fair to use my own words against me." Astarion huffed out a humourless sound, fighting back the urge to cry. Nobody had a heart like Tar'eons. He had been right about that. How he came to be the one who held it was a mystery to him.

"I have to even the playing field somehow, don't I?" Tar'eon caressed his cheek and stepped back.

"The choice is yours. If you really need my eyes...I will give them to you." He was extending his trust to him. This was it. The moment where Astarion either proved him right, or proved him wrong. The moment he could choose to break his heart, or hold it with the gentle hands he knew he was capable of.

Astarion stared at him in wonder, shocked that Tar'eon would offer such a thing.

"I..." No one had ever trusted him so completely. No one ever believed in him. Yet here he was, letting him truly decide his own fate. He was...giving him the freedom of choice. He looked down at the knife, the staff at his feet. At Cazador who was too weak to run or mist away, awaiting his fate. Perhaps he was ready to end this eternal life of his. Perhaps eternity was not what it was cracked up to be.

"You- you're right. I can be better than him. I can...I can be better, all on my own." Astarion gripped the hilt of the dagger tighter and smiled wickedly down at Cazador. "I'm not above enjoying this though."

Tar'eon smiled softly, pride shining in his eyes as he stepped back. Letting Astarion have his moment. His revenge. He earned it.

Astarion gripped Cazador's hair like the man had done to him so many times before, relishing in his cry of pain as he sunk the blade into him. Again and again, he let it sink into his old master, his tormentor, the one who took everything from him. His own voice drowned out Cazador's as he stabbed him without grace, letting his anger, his resentment and pain guide the blade. This wasn't about finesse, about Cazador's pain, it was about release. It was about letting out all the hurt and seeing the light leave his eyes.

It was about making things right. About taking back everything Cazador took from him, from all of them, and not letting him see any of the fruits of his labour - of their labour.

Covered in his blood, his strength left him, falling to his knees. His throat felt raw, the hurt still a permanent ache in his chest. He thought it would make it disappear. He thought it would finally end. That his blood would give him the peace he craved, but all he felt was cold and wet. He looked at Cazador, his body littered in wounds from his blade. The blade he tormented him with on multiple occasions.

He was dead. But what did it fix? Everything he did, everything that happened, it didn't disappear. It was still carved into his flesh, into his very soul, and he would always carry the trauma he gave him. There was no erasing it. This was who he was now, whether Cazador was alive or dead. But he was. He was dead. And he'd never hurt him again. He'd never hurt anyone again. Astarion made sure of that.

He tipped his head back and wailed. He didn't care if it was childish, if it was improper of him, or whatever Cazador may have said. He couldn't dictate his emotions anymore. If he wanted to cry, he could damn well cry. He deserved it.

So he did. He wailed, and he sobbed, and he let the ache in his chest be placated by his tears. He would still be a scared, pathetic little boy, like Cazador said he was, but he wouldn't be alone. He wouldn't lose himself. He would never become his tormentor. He would be better. Even if it was doing stupid shit like petting bunnies.

He felt a hesitant hand on his shoulder, and his breath hitched, hiccuping another sob, quieter this time as he was drawn into warm arms. He dropped the dagger in his hand and sunk his bloody hand into Tar'eons hair, burying his face in his neck. He would lose the sun, but he'd still have the warmth of it as long as Tar'eon lived. He gave up the power he craved, but it was worth it. It had to be worth it, or he'd drive himself insane thinking of 'what ifs'.

Tar'eon held him close, nose buried in his white curls as he let Astarion cry.

"I'm proud of you." Tar'eon whispered and Astarion shuddered in a breath, fisting his robes. Attempting to calm himself. The warm hand on his back helped even his breathing, and he pulled away slowly, unable to meet his gaze until Tar'eon tipped his chin up, smiling softly as he wiped blood from his cheek. "You did the right thing."

Astarion smiled bittersweetly and didn't bother responding.

"Is...is it over?" Dalyria asked hesitantly, looking down at the body of their old master. "Is he...?"

Astarion sighed softly and forced himself to stand, his body heavy with exhaustion and strangely enough, grief. Grief for everything he could have been, if not for Cazador. Grief for all the lives he'd been ready to damn, all the ones he already did.

"Yes. He's gone."

"What does that mean for us?" Petras asked, looking lost. He couldn't remember the last time he truly had free will, the last time he made a decision for himself that wasn't backed by fear or hunger. For the first in a century, there was no pain. No bond. He was...he was free. But free to do what?

"What do you want it to mean, Petras?" Tar'eon stood, regarding the man with a warm smile.

"I..." He looked to Dalyria, unsure. "I don't know." He admitted. Nobody had ever asked him that before.

"Your choices are simple, really." Astarion spoke, voice stronger than he felt. "You can hide here, living in the shadows like parasites, or you can be more than what he made us to be." He knew what he would be choosing. For once, he wasn't scared about what was to come of his decision. Whatever happened...he'd face it. He wouldn't be alone when he did.

"You can choose differently, of course...but the consequences are on your head." He said flippantly with a wave of his hand.

"And what does it mean for them?" Dalyira asked as she looked around at the cells around them, anxious. After all, they had put them there, unwillingly and unknowingly, but they had all the same.

"Now that's a better question. Seven thousand spawn, from ancient conquests to stolen children..." Astarion looked down at the staff. Truly, it was a reckless idea, releasing all those spawns out onto Baldur's Gate. Out into Fae'run. It would be wiser and safer to kill them all, quick and efficiently so they felt as little pain as possible.

Yet...

He looked back to Tar'eon as he picked up the staff, passing it to him.

"I don't deserve to be their saviour. I ruined most of them, and I was ready to damn the rest. You're the true hero here, so I'd say the honour is yours, darling." Astarion bowed his head ever so slightly to the other, like it was some royal gesture, and Tar'eon smiled.

"You always had the potential to make the right choices. I trust you, ph myirz. I think freeing them yourself is what you need. Give them the chance you got." Astarion smiled softly at Tar'eons words, at the lovely little endearment that still belonged to him somehow, huffing out a small chuckle.

"Seven thousand Astarions, unleashed on the Sword Coast. It'll be a well-dressed flood of mayhem, at least." Karlach grinned, proud of her friend.

"The poor wretches in the cells are innocent. They shouldn't have to suffer just because I...lured them here." Astarion looked at the staff apprehensively. Would it listen to his command, even though he wasn't Cazador?

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, slamming it into the ground and focusing his intent on the magical staff. It fought him at first, not recognising it's new wielder, but perhaps the blood on him was enough to appease it. He turned back towards the cells they had passed on the way in and heard them creak open, metal scraping against metal. He could see bodies milling out, and in the distance, he could see Sebastian looking over at him from above, before walking away. He could have attacked, been blinded by rage, but he hadn't.

It was the closest thing to forgiveness he could think of ever receiving from that man. He smiled to himself, glad to be able to put this behind him. To make things right for all those he helped ruin.

"They'll need someone to lead them. Take the tunnels into the Underdark, find somewhere...well, not safe, but less perilous?" The Underdark was hardly safe, but with how many spawn there was, there was no chance of them surviving on the surface in such a large group with no hunting or social skills to speak of. Half of them would burn to a crisp on day one.

"What? No, we can't-!" Petra tried to argue, obviously fearing the hoarde's wrath.

"Just," He put a hand up to silence his dimwitted brother. "Try to keep them out of trouble." He directed that to Dalyira, handing off leadership to her. She was the brightest of the bunch, after all. She nodded with a small smile.

"Until we meet again, brother."

"We don't have to pretend anymore, Dal."

"It wasn't so bad, having a family, even if it was one as...horrible as ours." Dalyira looked past Astarion to Tar'eon and waved. "I do hope we meet again, Astarion. And that you'll bring your...friend along."

"Uh, yes, well...maybe." Astarion cleared his throat, a touch embarrassed by her knowing smile. It shouldn't be embarrassing, he'd had plenty of lovers before, but he supposed there was never anyone he actually...got to keep. Anyone he genuinely liked. It had only been for show before, but now...

He watched as his 'siblings' of two centuries walked away, unsure how he should feel about it. He supposed there had been times were it weren't so bad, being around them. But it was tainted by the fear Cazador had instilled in all of them. That fear had ruined any genuine care between them, leaving them to undermine and throw each other beneath the wagon wheel.

"I..." He blinked and looked around the chapel. There wasn't anything left for him to do. He killed Cazador. He freed his siblings. He freed the prisoners. He...gave up the ritual. He had done...everything he needed to. "I think we're done here."

Yet he didn't feel done. It didn't feel over. He wondered if it ever would.

"Let's go." He dropped the staff and stared down at Cazador's body before he looted his pockets. Call him petty, but life was about the small joys. His life was entirely his own now. He'd like to begin it with a bit of pick pocketing.

He left the dagger. He didn't want it. There was no making that his, not when all it would do was remind him of the nights of screaming agony. Karlach helped Jaheria to stand and offered herself as a crutch. After that battle, even a Harper like Jaheria needed a break, and some rest. Once they got to camp, Shadowheart could do her thing and patch them all up. Gods, he needed a bath. A real bath. Maybe they could rent a room at the Elfsong, if only for tonight.

Tar'eons hand brushed his, knuckles bumping against his wrist, and Astarion withdrew from his thoughts to look at him.

"Sorry, I...That's it. He's gone." Astarion didn't know how else to explain his stupor. "After all these years - these centuries...it's really over."

"It is." Tar'eon smiled softly and hesitated before curling his fingers into the vampires palm, Astarion hold his hand in return with a weak smile. "You don't regret giving up all that power?"

"No." Astarion said quickly, shaking his head before pausing. "Well...maybe a little, but I- I'm not sure." Everything in his head felt like a mess. He couldn't think clearly enough to give him a real answer.

"What I've lost...what I've gained," He looked up at Tar'eon, gaze softening as he took in those striking features of his, unable to stop himself from smiling. What he gained was worth more than what he lost. He really did want to believe that. "It's all so much. And Gods, all those spawn, free in the Underdark..."

Had he truly made the right choice? The logical part of him wanted to say no. But his heart, as undead and cold as it was...firmly shouted yes.

"I need some time, I think I-...Just to let it all sink in." He wrinkled his nose as he made up the stairs at a quicker pace, forcing Tar'eon to match his own considering their hands were joined. "Let's just go. This place reeks of death, and I want to feel alive again."

Tar'eon chuckled and squeezed his hand, walking at his usual speed now that he wasn't forced to slow for Astarions small steps. He never minded it though. A leisure pace was just what he needed in his crazy life.

"Take all the time you need. I'll be here when you're ready to talk."

Astarion scoffed softly.

"Of course you will. You need your heart to function, don't you?" Tar'eons cheeks warmed as he laughed.

"I'm going to regret telling you that, aren't I?"

"Until the day you die."

That was fine by him.

[adzeisval]

A Curse is a Curse

Chapter One: The Cursed Bangles. Also on AO3.

Ed stumbles upon some cursed bangles that are supposed to give you want you deserve. They don't seem to work. Meanwhile Stede and Izzy find one of said bangles and start having nightmares. Can they figure it all out in time to save Ed?

Ed noticed two of the merchant ship crew running down into the hold with looks of determination, not terror, on their faces. Intriguing. There was something good down in the hold then and Ed gave chase to find out what it was before the merchants could destroy or hide whatever it was. 

The two merchants were in a small room in the hold whispering furiously about some sort of box. Ed let them dig about the room; he wanted to know what they were looking for. 

“What have you got there?” he asked when they finally found what they were looking for. They jumped and cursed and almost dropped the small box. 

“B…Blackbeard…” one of them managed. 

“Yep, that’s me. So what is that and why are you so desperate to get it? Valuable?” 

“Cursed,” Both men said. 

Ed scoffed, “Sure…” 

“No, truly. We were going to drop them into the ocean they…they’re supposed to give you what you deserve but all it seems to do is drive those around you mad.” 

“Fascinating. I’ll be taking those,” Ed said. He didn’t really believe in curses or magic or any of that but it was an interesting thought. The two merchants looked at each other and neither made the move to give the box to Ed. He pulled out his pistol, “Hand them over.” 

“You’re going to kill us anyway,” one man said. 

“If you give me the box, I’ll make it quick,” Ed said. One of the men handed the box over. 

Later, when the raid was done and they were back on the Revenge, Ed went to the Captain’s Cabin with the box to see the cursed item. He opened the box and found three no wait there were only two bangles inside. Odd. Ed could have sworn there were three when he first looked in the box. 

They didn’t look like much, maybe silver but not good quality with no markings on them. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get any sort of good coin for them and they were too ugly to wear. 

“Cursed my ass,” Ed said and picked them up, “So you’re supposed to give me what I deserve are you? Well I’d appreciate it if you'd get on with it.” 

What he wanted and what he deserved were the same thing and he wanted it all to be over. He thought it might be nice to have a curse do the job for him so he didn’t have to wait for Izzy or the crew to do him in. Or wait until he broke Ned Low’s record and tempted that particular end to come for him. He’d rather have it done sooner than that. 

“You know what I deserve so give it to me,” Ed said. Nothing happened of course because curses weren’t real and Ed dumped the bangles back in the box and shoved them away. He reached for a bottle of rum and spent the next several hours getting too drunk to care about anything. 

In the morning when Izzy came to report their approach to the next target he’d all but forgotten about the bangles so he did not notice that they were gone. 

*****

Izzy woke up and groaned. A raid a day was already starting to wear on him and he didn’t know how much longer Ed was going to keep it up. To break Ned Low’s record, it wasn’t impossible but it was insane. Of course Ed would be the one able to pull it of if he set his mind to it and he seemed absolutely set on it. 

Ed seemed set on other things too. Izzy tried not to think about that or his part in the current situation, or at least tried not to dwell on it to the point it would put the crew in danger. 

Izzy didn’t really know what to do, how to fix things, but he was going to try to keep everyone alive and safe. 

Izzy stretched and dressed and only winced a little as he put his boot over the still tender stump where his pinky toe had been. When he reached for his comb his hand hit something strange and he looked down to see a silver bracelet of some sort that had not been there the night before. He looked around his room for signs that someone had been there the night before. Had Ed been in the room? Izzy didn’t think he could sleep through his door opening, not anymore, but he wasn’t certain. 

Izzy picked up the bracelet and had the sudden urge to put it on. He put it down and stared at it again. The desire to put it on continued. 

“Fuck it,” Izzy said and put the stupid thing on. Nothing happened. Nothing had happened or was going to happen. Izzy went to pull the bracelet off. It wouldn’t come off. It was almost as if had shrunk around his wrist. 

“Fuck.” 

He’d have to deal with it later, he needed to make sure everyone and everything was ready for the coming raid. He’d cut the fucking thing off later. He only wished he put it on his right wrist and not his left. He’d just yell at whoever noticed it first and hopefully that would be the end of it. 

He went to inform Ed and the man didn’t say anything about the bracelet. Maybe it hadn’t come from Ed. No one else would dare go into his room would they? No one said anything about the bracelet, no one even seemed to notice it. 

Izzy felt like he might be going a bit crazy and made several attempts to get the crew to notice and say something but nothing happened. 

Once the raid was over Izzy spent the next several hours trying to cut the bracelet off with no luck. 

“What is this fucking thing,” Izzy said. Izzy didn’t believe in magic or curses or anything like that but there was something about the bracelet that was…just not right. Well he couldn’t fucking do anything about it and it was getting late. Maybe something would come to him in a dream. 

“Fucking stupid,” Izzy mumbled. 

*****

Stede cleaned up his fifth broken bottle of the night with a sigh. And it had only gotten busy and Jackie’s for a few minutes. It was going to be one of those nights and most nights were one of those nights. 

But his crew was safe, they had a place to be, and he would get back to Ed one way or another. He could deal with a few more broken bottles. 

“Olu…” 

“You know they aren’t on the house, not last night not tonight,” Olu said. 

“Ugh I know,” Stede said. Things were…they were alright. Things would be alright and he would be able to get to Ed and he just knew it would all end up alright. 

Stede went to clean off another table and found a silver bracelet, bangle sort of thing laying on top of the table. 

“Odd.” 

No one else had picked it up, which was strange in a bar full of pirates. Stede picked it up looking around as she did. No one saw him or looked at him. Very strange. He felt like putting it on right away but slipped it in his pocket for the moment. If no one claimed it he would put it in the money jar and it could bring him one step closer to getting to Ed. 

For the rest of the night he had the urge to reach into his pocket and pull out the bangle and put it on. At the end of the night as he lay down to sleep he put it on. It was a rather ugly thing but it felt good to have it on for a moment. 

“A bit crazy,” Stede said. He went to remove the bangle and it wouldn’t come off. He tried again and again and it looked like the thing had shrunk around his wrist in the few minutes it was there. 

It didn’t make any sense at all. He spent a few more moments trying to get it off but he really needed to get to sleep. Maybe he would dream up a solution. 

[crispinablr]

What if...

(Scene where you are going to stop Sebastian in the catacombs)

Sebastian and I are discussing the relic.

-Why are you trying to stop me all the time?!

-Because I love you, asshole!

-What…? He looks at me puzzled at the sudden response and puts the relic down.

-I have been fighting by your side by side and advising you because I care about you Sebastian.

He grabbed onto his robe while trembling hands, filled with rage and despair.

-Sebastian, please, I don't want to lose you… Please…

He looks at me strangely and while he is in his moment of confusion I snatch the relic from him and throw it away and before it can crash against the wall I destroy it with a simple spell. At the moment the relic is completely destroyed, the inferi are upon us and Solomon has no better idea than to attack Sebastian and me while he tries to finish off the inferi.

Once I finish with the inferi but both uncle and nephew are still arguing, I sigh frustrated so I take Salazar Slytherin's book without either of them noticing or so I thought, I walk directly to the exit. Once outside I hear the quick footsteps of the two sallows behind me still arguing, I turn annoyed towards Sebastian:

-If you use dark magic again, I'm going to give you such a kick that you'll remember me for all eternity.

-I thought you liked me?

-And I like you, but sometimes you drive me crazy.

-And you!! -I point my finger accusingly at Mr. Solomon- Is he crazy!? Didn't you see that he was trying to finish off the Inferi? And he can't think of a better idea than casting spells on me while I fight so they don't kill us!!

-I was trying to stop you!!

-That's not the way!! -Sebastian and I say at the same time

-Miss, you bettergive that book back to me, it's dangerous

-That book is ours - Sebastian stands up for me

-I'm going to give it to Professor Weasley, she will know what to do.

Before either of us could react, Anne appears out of nowhere and looks at us. I walk up to her and start reciting the curse that rookwood put on her backwards.

Suddenly I see Anne stop being stiff and become more relaxed as her skin turns from sickly white to a pinker shade, her posture from hunched over in pain to more upright.

Uncle and nephews are stunned by what happened and soon Anne jumps towards me to hug me, she takes me by surprise so I freeze in place for a moment and I give myself a few small pats on the back as a consolation. Now I just wanted it all to be over and to be able to go back to the comfort of my bed.

I break away from Anne and watch as the twins hold each other tearfully, Sebastian pulls away from him and caresses his sister's cheeks with his thumbs.

-Oh Anne I'm so sorry, I just wanted to help you. -I know but you were going too far, you were going to sacrifice all of Feldcroft for me so I had to ask for help. -Boy you were lucky that your friend and I could stop you. -Now he is a we?! Because in the catacombs you were blaming me for flirting with the dark side of your dear nephew. Besides that I almost died because of him, I only came to stop Sebastian's feet because Ominis sent me an owl.

Anne sees Salazar Slytherin's book and points to it.

-Does Ominis know about this? - Anne asks concerned -He was with us when we found the book in the scriptorium. -I said carefree -The script what? -She said without understanding

-Don't worry little sister, I'll tell you at home

Solomon still looks at us skeptically but I don't give it any more importance, I prepare my broom to leave.

-I'm going to give the book to the deputy director and then I'm going to sleep because it's very late and I'm dying of sleep.

-I'll stay with Anne and let Ominis know what happened. -Thank you again for saving me and my family," says Anne with a smile.

I smile looking at the trio and ride my broom straight to Hogwarts but not before saying a few last words.

-I hope to see you in class soon and you better not mess around while Ominis and I aren't watching you.-I laugh and finally leave.

[insurguitor]

Ramble time! It's that DHMIS au I came up with while half asleep, I have a decent amount of concept now! Also lore. So get ready for that.

So we've got these critters. They're all felt-y and colorful and kinda funky looking, but they're all sentient and either humanoid or anthropomorphized. They have an extremely long lifespan, too. Most importantly, they produce and run on magic.

Some of them figured out that they could go into the human world a while back, but doing so required a lot of magic. Portals require several people to create and maintain, since the amount of magic it burns is enormous and would kill someone if they tried to open and maintain one alone. Anchors were eventually invented, needing a bit of blood and an exhausting amount of magic to make, but the process wouldn't kill or injure its creator like the portals would, merely taking the magic at one point rather than continuously draining the creator of their magic. The anchor was a small item that resembles its creator, typically taking the form of a doll, and the creator could swap places with it at will. It was a bit uncomfortable over long distances, but hey, it made travelling easier! The unfortunate bit was that any damage done to one reflects on the other, meaning that breaking the anchor could irreversibly harm the creator. This scared a bunch of would-be explorers off, but enough people were curious enough to go for it anyways. They'd make their anchors, throw them through a tiny portal as quick as possible, and then swap places.

Of course, them discovering humans and humans discovering them didn't really end well, so that idea was abandoned quickly. A ban was placed, and pretty much everyone is convinced that humans are ruthless savages. Not all the anchors were collected, so there's still a few here and there.

Got the lore? Good. Now the actual DHMIS-related stuff.

Red and Duck are two of these critters. They live together. Red's got an anchor in the human world and has gotten some damage from it. Red usually stays home because of this while Duck goes out and does stuff.

Yellow/David's a lil human kid. His parents don't get along very well and he usually spends his time doodling, exploring the house, or messing with his stuff. He also knows how to sew, kinda. This is important.

David explorers the attic one time and finds this damaged red doll. He thinks "ooh neat thing" and "I can probably fix this" and snatches it. And tries to fix it. Switch to Red, who's suddenly getting the damage done to him patched up and is Very Confused and Worried. Afterwards he eventually remembers about his anchor, and after some debate he eventually decides to swap.

I don't have much after that. Basically Red meets David and kinda panics but eventually decides "the kid is adorable, protec the bean." David gets attached and likes his new friend. Red visits a lot when Duck is out. Then later something happens, I haven't decided what yet, an Red ends up bringing David with him either accidentally or in a panic. Or both. He hasn't decided what to do before Duck gets home. Que Duck berating Red for being an idiot.

I haven't really got anything other than that yet. David might just visit them a lot, or he might've been brought there via excess magic caused by adrenaline, haven't decided yet. Also haven't really decided the teachers' roles in this, but they're the same species Duck and Red are.

Probably gonna draw them eventually. I've got a good idea of how I want them to look like.

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Master - Chapter 61 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

I'd often witnessed Kalem use his magic but for the first time, it surged between us as if I were also channelling it.

As Kalem tightened his grip on my fingers and called on the life around us, I felt the way energy surged up from the planet's core, freely giving itself over to Kalem, who morphed into the single destination in his mind.

From there, it's a quick trip, a split-second change that passes under a bright light that takes us from one place to another... home.

Instantly, a stillness settles over me.

This place had been the only place I'd ever truly claimed as my own.

From the moment I'd seen the high black walls, with their sleek, pointed edges and pristine windows, I'd felt something click inside me.

It was a feeling of rightness and belonging and that same feeling rippled through me now as I opened my eyes and spotted the familiar archways of the castle's design.

We were home.

Facing Kalem, I take in his gleaming smile, his excitement as bright as mine as the Lyrra stirs to life within me.

It takes no effort for the bond to snap back in place, instantly linking me to all the vampires who resided inside the castle.

I could feel them react to my presence, already heading this way but two reach us before any others.

Malcolm and Wenquie push two heavy doors wide open and frantically rush inside, gazes unfocused until they settle on me.

They're on me as fast as they can manage, both of them making me groan as they crash into me for a hug I would usually dodge.

I don't with this one.

I don't dare do a thing besides wrapping my arms around them in turn so I can hold them close.

There was no use pretending that I didn't feel the same unease as them, that there wasn't a raging storm inside of me that fed on the fear of never seeing one another again after an eternity together.

We'd made a family, the three of us.

So with care, I settle a hand on Malcolm's head, allowing him to burrow close and when I feel scarcely shed tears wetting my skin, I hold him even closer.

I do the same for Wenquie, who was no better, rubbing his back to stop the way he was shaking like a leaf as he clung to my chest.

Maybe the words would never leave my mouth, the consequences too dire if I were to admit it out loud but I'd feared for them the very same way and if I'd lost either, I knew I would never be the same.

"I thought you died," Wenquie shouts as he suddenly pushes me away.

"Everything was going to shit and then it wasn't. There was this black sexy demon flying around, killing everyone like it was fucking judgement day. Then. The sky turned black. Total apocalypse shit. So we went to you and we saw you with that s-spear in your chest..." Wenquie stops himself as he bites into his wobbling bottom lip, his anger deflating like the rest of him.

"I'm alright," I reply as I squeeze his hand.

"I survived it."

"I thought you wouldn't," Wenquie's voice cracks as his tail falls limply behind him.

Pain seizes me at the sight, he looked far too much like the abandoned incubus he'd once been, defeated by so much loss.

"Wenquie," I start but he shakes his head.

"I thought I was going to lose my family again," he croaks.

"And I can't do that again. I can't lose you, Lincoln."

"You didn't," I promise as I press his small hand against my chest.

"I am healed and well. I'm still here."

Wenquie pokes at the sealed skin, pressing harder than Kalem ever dared to.

He keeps prodding it, each touch making Kalem twitch but he doesn't stop until he's satisfied.

"I won't break," I promise as he drops his hand and lets out a heavy breath

"I'm okay, Wenquie."

Wenquie finally smiles, his entire body flooding with palpable relief.

"Good," he grumbles while he rubs at his eyes.

"I can't believe I'm this happy to see you when you're so fucking depressing."

I smile at the foolish incubus.

"Were you not crying just a moment ago?"

"That's because I really thought I was going to lose your pasty ass," Wenquie exclaims, making me laugh so loudly that it echoes around us.

"I'm not so easy to get rid of."

"Good," he grumbles, his fists clenched as if he wanted to punch me but instead, he hugs me again.

"You're not allowed to die before me."

"Deal," I mumble over the head of his curls.

Allowed a moment of respite, I look to Malcolm only to feel the remnants of my heart splinter inside me when I spot the open mess he'd become.

Malcolm looked lost in a way I hadn't seen since the first day we met.

It'd been a long time since I'd seen Malcolm look so scared, longer still since he'd shed tears so freely.

Malcolm was emotive and honest but he never cried.

Tears were the one thing he refused to give and yet, his face was wet and his eyes full.

"I saw you die," he whispers, words so quiet they almost felt like a curse.

"I-I saw you die and I thought... I thought you... I thought it... it was the end for us, Lincoln."

I shake my head, hating to hear the tremor in his voice.

"There's no end yet," I promise as I offer a hand to him, pulling him close again.

The affections were foreign for us or rather me but I knew he needed it and truthfully I wanted nothing more at this moment.

"I'm okay, Malcolm."

"I saw..." he starts again, tears flowing faster.

"I would not leave you alone, Malcolm," I vow in a whisper for him.

In this world, there would only ever be one person I would call my greatest companion, my most cherished friend and that was Malcolm.

God knew he drove me insane and half the time, I wished he were dead but I was nothing without him.

We were a pair, there could never be one without the other.

Malcolm had seen to that.

"I would never do that to you," I promise and slowly, the tension in Malcolm's body slips away as he lets himself believe it to be true instead of the visions that had probably plagued him.

He'd tried to warn me of it before the battle but I'd been too concerned with helping Kalem's safety to take note of the pain etched in his eyes.

I saw it now and knowing I was the cause hurt more than I ever knew it could.

More than likely, the gremlin probably had a million ideas on how he planned to torture me for upsetting his Pisen.

At the thought, I look around for the ever-present Elf, eyes scanning for where he was tucked away, glaring from a distance.

I found him near the doorway but instead of a glare, there was a strange, unreadable expression on his face that I couldn't understand.

It most definitely wasn't joy or relief at seeing me, nothing of the sort but something far frailer.

I follow his sharp gaze to Kalem, frowning when I spot him staring at Arias with a look so cold it made me stiffen.

Kalem loved Arias.

Besides myself, he was the person he'd always been closest to, his best friend.

He should've already been at his side, ecstatic to be reunited, not looking at Arias with the heavy mistrust that engulfed our bond.

It was beyond odd.

It was worrying, as was the way Arias quietly peeled away from the room when Wenquie launched himself at Kalem.

"Look at you," he bellows, oblivious to everything else but Kalem's Elven form.

"All big and sexy and shit. What happened to demons sticking together? You're a total angel now, flower. You even have wings, you sneaky bastard."

Kalem preens, his dark mood easing but I still feel it's remains even though Arias was long gone.

While Wenquie fawns over Kalem, I look at Malcolm, whose gaze returns from the spot Arias had filled.

He tries for a smile when he catches my attention on him but it's far too forced.

"He's fine," he says too quickly.

"The fight just took a lot out of him."

Even without knowing what Malcolm sounded like lying, I knew it wasn't the truth.

I doubted that battle had been more than a tickle for the Elf, which meant something was very wrong.

"But I'm glad you're back and okay," Malcolm presses, noticeably trying to reroute the subject.

"You look even better than before." I glance at Kalem, smiling despite myself.

"I've been well looked after."

"Well, that's definitely going to make everyone feel better," he replies and as if summoned, the open doorway is quickly flooded by all the vampires rushing inside.

[votestaynight2]

15th Day - limited. (Scene 4)

"I'm still taking you home. I'm not going back by myself." I don't even need to think about it. There's no alternative in my mind.

"――――" Ilya just stares back at me in surprise. I take her hand. "Let's go, Ilya. We'll go home before they find us." I pull her small, light body and start to walk.

"I'm stunned. Anything I say to you is useless." Ilya starts to walk without resisting. "Really. There's no way this will turn out well." She happily closes her hand over mine.

"What are you waiting for?" ―――Then. Kotomine jumps in through the window I broke.

"Kotomine…!?" Ilya pulls her hand from mine and stands on guard.

"Oh, wait, Ilya…! He's on our side. We're cooperating just this once. We made a quick team." "What!? No way, you're working with this guy!? Shirou, you can't, he…" "We can talk later. Let's go outside before they catch up to us." "Eh, kya――――!?"

―――He moves in an instant. Kotomine grabs Ilya's arm and jumps out the window without any hesitation.

"Wha――――Ilya……!!!!" I dash to the window.

…Kotomine has already landed. Ilya is in his arms. At once, she shakes off his grip and slaps his face. …She hit him so hard that I can hear it from up here.

"――――This isn't the time to be amazed. So he wants me to jump…!?" There's no time to hesitate. I can manage this height if I land properly.

"Fuh――――" I charge as much magical energy as I can into my feet. I can't strengthen my own body, but this should soften the landing――――

――――Or not!!!!!

"――――Uhhhhhh…!!!!" I jump down twenty meters and roll the instant I hit the ground. It's only the third floor, but the third floor of a castle is very high up. In a normal house, it'd be somewhere around the eighth story.

"That hurts… I thought my brain would pop out." …Damn, my feet are so numb that I can't even stand. But I'm lucky that it's grassy here. If this were asphalt, I would've broken my legs, and then I'd never be able to escape.

"I'm surprised. You're tough, Shirou." "Indeed. It is amazing that you jumped from that height without using any magic. ――――Are you suicidal?" The two stare at me. Setting Ilya aside for the moment, Kotomine's comment makes me forget about the pain.

"Shut up! I had to do it because you jumped! I don't want to do this ever again! You'd normally break your leg, and I almost fainted right when I started the jump!"

"But you have no injuries. You have no right to complain… But it is certainly a surprise. Why did you even consider jumping from that height? Even a magus would not think about jumping from that height without using a spell."

"Eh――――" Well, I was left behind, and since Kotomine jumped with Ilya, I thought I'd look bad if I didn't do it too――――

"It's not Shirou's fault. Archer's influencing his mind as well as his body. That's why his body's so tough. He thought he could handle that drop the way Archer could."

"…Eh? What does that mean, Ilya?" "I see, that is reliable. Please demonstrate that strong attitude during battles. Here's your sword." He throws me the sword I left here.

"Whoa…" "You can run, right? Our lives depend on it now." Kotomine turns to the castle gate, telling me there's no time to talk. And in challenge to him… "[wacky len=14]" An odd sound shakes the winter castle.

"…I thought so. You kept him in this world, eh, Sakura?" ―――That roar was definitely a signal fire for the hunt. Telling us that the most fearsome hound has been unleashed. It's like a death sentence placed upon a fleeing prisoner by an honorable, yet ruthless, lord.

"―――Berserker." "――――――――" My mind shifts into full alert. Berserker. I hear the name that embodies danger, and every last ounce of composure is squeezed from my body.

"Kotomine." "We'll retreat. We can do nothing even if we fight him. We will be killed once he catches up to us." Kotomine leads the way to the castle gate.

"Don't look back, Ilya…! Forget about him, Berserker isn't like before…!"

I take Ilya's hand and start running. ―――We can't be holding back now. If that mad warrior is after us, the only way for us to survive is to run with all our might for the whole three hours to the forest's edge…!

―――It's hard to breathe. A darkness I can't ignore no matter what is overtaking us.

"……!" I run through the forest. I still don't see anything behind us. All I hear is the sound of raging wind. The pursuer is not a hound, but a huge monster. As he cannot slip in between trees like us, he instead follows by knocking aside whatever blocks his path.

…It feels like we're being chased by one of those heavy drills used for digging tunnels. It's like there's a black wall bearing down to engulf us.

"Ah… haa, ha… no, I can't run that fast…!" "…!"

I slow down to Ilya's pace. …This is bad. The enemy's speed and ours are about the same. He'll catch up to us in a minute if I try to run while carrying Ilya――――!

"No…! I'll stay here, so escape by yourself, Shirou…!" "He hasn't caught up to us yet…! Get on my back! One little girl's weight is nothing…!" "Idiot, that's not true…! If you do that, he'll be on us in no time for sure…!"

"Kuh――――" What should I do? Should I carry Ilya and run, or――― ―――Or will I fight that monster? And I can't even match Assassin. Fight one-on-one against the strongest Servant with this borrowed sword――――?

"――――Ah――――" No. Stop. Please don't make me. There's no way in the world I can beat that monster…!

I'll die if I stop. He'll definitely kill me. The moment I face him, my body will be sliced in half, my torso crushed by strength like a machine, all while I'm still conscious, and――――

"―――There is no need for that. I will carry Ilyasviel." ""What?"" We both turn around. ―――I don't even have time to be surprised. Kotomine walks over to us, picks Ilya up, and starts running.

"――――――――!" He's fast…! Kotomine has a good build. With his height, he should be able to easily carry Ilya and run.

But we're in a forest. Even though the ground is uneven, trees are scattered everywhere, and his arms are full, he's not slowing down――――!

"Kotomine…!" I run full-speed after him. We're at equal speed now. Kotomine is carrying Ilya while I'm running without any shackles. In a forest where we might trip at any moment, we run at a pace of a hundred meters per seven seconds.

"――――!" My heart's beating rapidly. This isn't normal. I'm running too quickly. It's not possible for a human to run at almost fifty kilometers per hour through this terrain.

My left arm throbs. It feels like my left arm expanded beneath the cloth.

…This is probably what Ilya was talking about. Archer's battle experience isn't the only thing flowing into me. His physical abilities are flowing into me now. An overdose of strength-enhancing drugs. The poison seeps into my body, letting me demonstrate abilities beyond my limits.

――――That's fine. Even if this may be contamination too great for a Geiger counter to measure, I appreciate it for now.

But Kotomine's different. I don't sense any usage of magic or leak of magical energy. It's unbelievable, but he's running with Ilya in his arms without any magical assistance…!

"Hey, are you really human…!" "Not as much as you. But have you noticed? We can get away if we maintain this speed. It seems he cannot see through his eyes."

"…!? He can't see?" "That is the only reason I can think of. He is faster. The trees in the forest are like pebbles beneath his feet. But he has yet to catch up to us, which must mean something is wrong with him."

Kotomine plainly talks. I don't know why he's talking about this with such disinterest, but…

"…We can manage to get away. So it all depends on our cardio!?" "No. It seems things will not be that easy."

A voice filled with hostility. Before I'm able to tell what he means… "――――Assassin――――!" My left arm writhes.

"……!" I see a white skull. Assassin slips through the trees beside us, as if laughing at our attempts to escape…!

"Cra――――" By the time I realize how much trouble we're in, it's already too late. On the other side of the trees is Assassin, raising his left arm over his head and―――― ""!?"" Someone parries before it can pierce my skull.

"――――――――" I gasp. There's only one person that can do such a thing. Kotomine, still carrying Ilya, parried the attack that was fired without any indication…!

"―――How annoying. He never appears when your hands are free, but he shows up as soon as you're preoccupied." Kotomine slows down. …The priest frowns and glares at the black assassin keeping pace with us.

"Kotomine?" "I will leave Ilya to you. I shall take care of him in turn. I am a priest, after all. I have experience with exorcising evil spirits." Kotomine stops and lets Ilya down.

"Wha――――are you serious!?" I pull the bewildered girl towards me. At the same time―――three daggers are fired like bullets…! "Kotomine――――!"

"――――It's sharp, but too direct. The course of the attacks is too easy to read for an assassin." "――――――――" I doubt my eyes. Assassin fired three sword flashes. The priest easily knocked them all aside――――!

"[wacky len=12]――――"

"…!" Berserker…! Damn, that was close! He'll catch up to us if we slow down here…!

"――――!" This is no time to be indecisive. I have to go ahead with Ilya…!

"It's fine, right…!? I'm going, Kotomine…!" "That is what I am telling you. You do not need to worry about me." ―――I hold Ilya in my arms. I can't run as fast as Kotomine, but this is still faster than having her run with me…!

I turn my back to the priest. The dark roar is coming from another part of the forest. It's surely coming closer while destroying everything in its path.

I have nothing to say to Kotomine. Trusting him with my back and running with all speed will be my best reply. ―――And right when I'm about to start off…

"―――Emiya. Do not kill the person if the one you saved is a woman. Having her die in front of you hits you pretty hard." The priest says something strange, his voice heavy with self-derision.

"……Eh?" "It's just a meaningless warning. Hurry. If your only pursuer is Berserker, you should be able to escape. The rest of the fight is up to you, Emiya Shirou." "――――――――" I nod and start off.

―――Their shadows recede into the distance. His back is so far away. …I have a bad feeling. I think we will never see each other alive again.

Interlude 15-2

―――It's a bit abrupt. But driving away evil spirits is not a priest's duty.

A priest preaches about the teachings of God, but doesn't drive away evil spirits. Their god is one and absolute. Supreme and all-knowing. A spirit that created the perfect world. Such a god would never allow evil to disgrace the world that he created.

But evil still exists, corrupting men and tainting the world. God's world is being desecrated by something that should not exist. This is how they defined the contradiction. That even the evil that threatens mankind is a necessary part of the world. It is something worthy of love.

In this regard, evil is a messenger from heaven. If what brings out the goodness of men is holy, it follows that what brings out the malice of men is evil. They are both angels sent by God. As one who teaches the word of God, the priest has no right to eliminate them.

But. Evil does exist, corrupting men and tainting the earth, producing gruesome tragedies surpassing human knowledge. At times, the trials from heaven made people realize how powerless God is. The inhuman deeds of the evil caused people to desire for miracles from the great God.

Consequently, an exception was created. Apostles, humans that carry out the will of God instead of spreading his word… Trials that should be observed. Heresy that should be denied. People who possess what should not exist, the 8th Sacrament. Executors, destroyers of evil devised by the 120 Cardinals, were born.

They drive away darkness, purging all things that are not part of God's teachings. They hunt down that which doesn't exist in the doctrine, so they're not bound by the doctrine. Their immorality is forgiven. There's only one thing they must protect: the great name of God. For this purpose, they will destroy the evil that God created. That is the only difference between them and the Exorcists.

"―――Executors, eh? I hear the Church teaches to be frivolous as the pigeon, yet adaptable as the snake. …I see that you are no exception." The white skull laughs. The priest Kotomine Kirei doesn't answer, but checks his weapons.

Five Black Keys on each side, and a Command Spell on his right arm, unused since the last war. These armaments are more than sufficient against a low-ranking spirit. But he cannot kill a Servant even if he hits every one of his weapons. Even if he may be nameless, Assassin is a heroic spirit. He can't possibly defeat a heroic spirit unless he has a weapon of the "Scripture" scale that the selected Agents carry.

"What's wrong? It looks like your weapon is a projectile weapon as well. Would you like to try a match?" "――――――――" The priest doesn't move. He stares at the skull that lurks between the trees, listening to the sounds in the forest. Rustling leaves. The breath under the mask. The sound of slowly melting flesh. And the mad warrior crashing into the distance.

"…He went that way, as I thought. It seems you are not doing well with Matou Sakura, Makiri Zouken." He talks while staring at the skull.

"――――Ka. Kaka, kakakakakaka! I see, so you felt my presence, Kirei! Why did you stop in spite of that? You could have used the boy as bait to escape. So why are you conducting such a good deed as to be the bait yourself? Do not tell me you are moved by kindness!"

The laugh echoes through the forest. The white skull slightly wavers. The priest doesn't even move his brow. "――――I did not intend to save Emiya Shirou. I merely had business here." And he speaks with no sign of hostility.

"Oh? You had business with me?" "Of course. Either way, Emiya and I will not get out of the forest. I know we will both die eventually. Then―――it is only natural to do something for yourself before you die, correct?" "Hm……? Then you do not mind what happens to Ilyasviel? You came to rescue her, right?"

"I care not. I can do nothing, even if I defeat Assassin here and move to help the boy. Whether Emiya Shirou succeeds or fails to save her is no concern of mine." He holds three Black Keys in his left hand. The priest stares at the skull in front of him while holding the swords in a fan form.

"…Oh. Then you stayed here because…" "Yes. I must keep Ilyasviel from you, or…" …The hostility disappears. The white skull melts into the forest without trace.

"―――Or kill you here."

―――The blades run. The sword held by the priest and the daggers flung by Assassin clash…!

"Ku, haha, hahahahaha! I see, so that's why you came to die! Fine, Kirei. We have unsavory ties. I shall see through the battle of the Church's outlier――――!" The laugh echoes. The holy man who wards off evil meets Malak al-Maut, knowing it's impossible to win――――

"Ha――――Haa, haa, haa, ha……!"

I run through the forest with Ilya in my arms. I can't turn back. It feels like a black wall would be behind me if I turn back, which would kill my spirit to escape alive. I don't have energy to waste on that. He'll catch up to us if my resolve wavers. He'll catch up and kill us both.

"――――Ah, haa, gah, ah, ah……!" ; " "

It feels like my feet will tear off. Ilya may be light, but carrying someone still slows me down. Making matters worse, the forest isn't the best place to run in. Each step nearly causes me to trip.

"Ah――――! Haa, ah, ah, haa……!" ; " !"

Faster. Faster. Faster. Faster. He'll catch up to us unless I run faster. The presence behind me is getting closer by the second. This is no time to be moving this slowly. I have to run faster――――run fast like Kotomine and run away with Ilya…!

"――――――――Ah, ――――――――guh…!" ; " !"

My heart feels like it's about to explode. It's painful. I can't breathe. The muscles in my legs are about to tear apart, and my bones are screaming to break.

"――――――――, ――――――――!" ; " !"

It's painful. How long have I run for? I'm running frantically through the forest with Ilya in my arms. I've covered five kilometers already. Then again, I'm so short of breath that I can't think, so it might've been twice that. I ran full speed without slowing down.

"[wacky len=13]――――"

"Ah――――――――" ; " !"

But it won't go away. I'm running full speed, my heart and muscles are about to stop, and yet the presence behind me is getting larger.

"――――――――Kuh." ; " !"

Ilya is heavy. Oxygen is heavy. My legs are heavy. Death is heavy. I'll die if he catches up to me. I'm burdened with the fear of being killed in a single blow.

"Ah――――――――!" " !"

I mentally kick myself before I can falter. Run. Just don't think and keep running. So what if my legs are about to rip off? What's the point in worrying? Think about that when it actually happens. For now, I just need to get out of the forest as quickly as possible. Fill my chest with gasoline. Turn the key and ignite the engine that's stalling with fear. Keep the gear at the top. Remove the brakes.

"Ha――――ah, ah――――!" " !"

Run. Run. Run. Run to shake the uneasiness from my back. Run to ignore the fear behind me. Run so I won't think negative thoughts――――!

"[wacky len=14]――――!"

Shut up. Don't yell in my ear. My eardrums are about to burst just because of my breathing. I can't spare the effort to listen to your loud voi――――

"No, stop, Shirou……!!!!!!!!"

"――――――――!?" Ilya screams in my arms. My mind reacts to her frantic warning before my body does.

"Haa――――――――" I stop. My feet slide to a halt in the dirt, and I put Ilya down on the ground.

"――――Trace…" I ready the sword I had on my waist and create a Magic Circuit at the speed of 200 miles per hour.

"On――――!" Nothing comes to mind. In an instant, I manufacture everything without even thinking about it.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!" I resist the impact with all my strength. The whirlwind comes from the side. The pursuer has attacked us from the side, smashing away all the trees in his way――――!

――――I'm sent flying. All it took was one blow. The Black Key, which I strengthened to be as strong as diamond, is bent like melted candy. The impact goes through the sword into my body, permeating damage from the tip of my head to my toes.

"――――――――Ah." I'm flying. The attack I made with all my might was deflected like nothing. ――――I'm no match against him. I'm no match against him. Emiya Shirou isn't allowed to even stop that monster.

My body's floating in the air. No, I'm flying. I'm like a thrown lance, hurled dozens of meters by the impact. I might fly back to the castle. That's how much stronger he is. Escape is impossible.

Time has stopped. I'm still flying, and I should die when I fall to the ground. Having seen the difference in our power, I accept my fate, but…

"No way… No, Berserker…" …I see Ilya crying in disbelief, with the black monster in front of her.

"Gah――――……!!!!!" I frantically reach out. I stop my flying body by hitting myself against a tree.

"Ah――――haa………!!!!!!!!!" It feels like I've been hit in the back with a hammer. My heart, already pushed to the point of bursting, expands still further. It cries in pain as though there's a crack running through it.

"Haa――――ah――――ah……!" I can only draw a single breath. I need oxygen, but it feels like I'll explode if I take another.

"Haa, gu, haa――――――――!" But my body moves. That single breath gives me the strength to run. I use all of my Magic Circuit to move my muscles and―――

"Hey, what's wrong, Berserker? It's me. Can't you tell?" Entranced, Ilya doesn't move. She just calls out in a weak voice, trying to deny the unrecognizable figure before her.

…That's the black enemy's true identity. Kotomine said his eyes can't see. He's right, but he's not accurate.

…That Servant has no eyes, nose, or mouth. His glowing, red eyes are there to emit hostility. His body is covered by the black mud, and the wound he received from Saber is left alone.

…That's something completely different. Engulfed in the mud, he is a monster who can only destroy. He doesn't even see who he's attacking. The mad warrior can't recognize Ilya's figure, let alone mine.

"[wacky len=14]" He raises his axe-sword against the living thing in front of him.

The priest is about to end his life. "Fu――――Fuu――――fuu――――" Kotomine Kirei leans against a wall, staring at the white skull. His outfit is slashed up. He's breathing hard, with three Black Keys as his only remaining weapon.

"Hm, this looks like the end. I should commend you for lasting this long against a Servant." The old man's laugh echoes through the sky.

"――――――――" Assassin remains silent, in contrast to his talkative master. Battle is merely work for him. The Darks that go for his opponent's vital spots are also weapons to measure the strength of his opponent. He measures his opponent's mobility with the first dagger. He measures his opponent's action principles with the second. He always keeps seven meters between him and the opponent. He maintains a distance at which only projectile weapons are useful and measures his opponent's skill.

If he cannot kill his opponent in one blow, he will force his opponent to a place where he can. He will drive them into a corner by cutting their limbs and tiring their bodies. For Assassin, the daggers are merely preparation for his fatal attack. He uses them to analyze his target's skill, creates the perfect opportunity, and smashes his enemy with his evil arm. It's just a chore for Assassin, bringing him no joy.

It's a boring chore, but the priest is better prey than he expected. He has used at least twenty daggers already. Although he uses them to determine his opponent's skill, each one is still meant to kill. The priest has blocked them and reached this ruin. He dismissed the priest as a mere human, but his powers are admirable.

"Fuh――――fuu――――fuu――――" But this is it. His energy drained, the priest leans against a wall and stares at Assassin. He has three hidden Black Keys left. The seven he threw were all dodged.

"Then this is the end. Show him some grace, Assassin." The skull wavers. Assassin fires the daggers without motion. Aiming for the temple, pancreas, and diaphragm. The priest challenges the lightning flashes with his Black Keys.

There is a term called "fatal attack." A move that will kill, a move that will determine victory. This is it. The three daggers are a feint. Kotomine Kirei will die the instant he deflects them.

"――――Die." The wing flaps. The cursed arm, the one-winged spear, is developed. ―――It's an unavoidable attack. Assassin knows the priest's capabilities. He knows his prey is tired and wounded.

―――That is why this will kill. The prey should prevent death from the Darks. But that will be all. Even if he saved up his energy for a counterstrike, his body is incapable of carrying it out.

After repelling the three daggers, all the priest can do is jump sideways. And only three meters at that. He cannot escape the arm―――!

――――The cursed arm stretches out. The priest has no fear. He's prepared for it. He knows that the daggers are a feint, that the cursed arm will strike him the instant he repels the daggers, and that he has no way to avoid it.

No matter what he does, he will die. That is why… "Set――――" The only thing he can aim for is a double-kill―――!

"――――――Fuh." The skull laughs. The cursed arm going for the heart and the Black Keys cross. But there's no problem. Assassin's cursed arm is the only one that will directly hit the target.

The Black Keys will certainly hit him. But how unfortunate. No matter what magic he puts on the swords, the Black Keys cannot kill Assassin. The three swords will pierce through Assassin, sticking to the tree behind him. But that's it. The priest will inflict injury, but will have his heart torn out in turn――――!

Assassin's arm does its job first. His Noble Phantasm, Zabaniya, sticks to the priest's chest and creates a fake heart. But he feels no solid response. The man's heart gives no reaction, as if it's empty.

"Wha―――" At that instant, the impact hits him. The three Black Keys hurl Assassin backward, nailing him to a tree.

"What!?" There are two surprises. One is that the Black Keys have sealed his movement. And the other is…

"Impossible! Why are you not dead, Kirei――――!?" "――――――――" The priest's black outfit flutters through the air. He jumps. The inhuman action is like a cannon firing. Amassing his strength and releasing it, he covers ten meters in an instant. Up to the trees above. He instantly seizes the head of Matou Zouken, the one who has been observing the battle.

"Hm――――What are you doing, Assassin…!?" It does not need to be said. His bodyguard is sewn to a tree by the Black Keys. To Assassin, this is only a scratch. But the holy nails make it impossible to save the old man.

"I will kill. I will let live. I will harm and heal. None will escape me. None will escape my sight."

Why challenge an enemy he knows he cannot defeat? This has always been his announced intention.

"Damn you…!" "Be silent. You'll bite your tongue off." The priest grabs his head and drops to the ground.

"Gi――――!"

"Be crushed. I welcome those who have grown old and those who have lost. Devote yourself to me, learn from me, and obey me. Rest. Do not forget song, do not forget prayer, and do not forget me. I am light and relieve you of all your burdens."

He shows no mercy. The priest smashes the old magus's body on the ground, crushes his bones, and slams his head against the wall.

"Ha――――I see, so you will kill me!? Very well, do as you wish. But what will change? Do you think your wish will come true!?"

"Do not pretend. Retribution for forgiveness, betrayal for trust, despair for hope, darkness for light, dark death for the living."

He walks. Leaving a smear of blood across the stones as he goes.

"Hahaha, hahahaha! Such a hopeless wretch! Do you still seek mundane happiness!? Do you not understand that such a thing does not exist for you!?"

The blood and flesh paint a picture on the wall. All that remains of the old magus is his head. His body has been ground away against the stone.

And not even half of his head remains. Even with his brain pasted to the wall, the old magus gives off his last laugh.

"Relief is in my hands. I will add oil to your sins and leave a mark. Eternal life is given through death. ――――Ask for forgiveness here. I, the incarnation, will swear."

"You will never find it. Kirei, you were defective from birth. Just stand and watch, never fitting into the world…!"

"――――Kyrie eleison."

――――The laughter is cut off. The shape that can't be seen by human eyes withers away.

Baptismal chant. Within the systematic basis of their magic, the teachings of God are considered the greatest weapon against spirits. The key of providence that eliminates wandering souls. It sublimates the wish of the five hundred-year-old magus with great mercy.

End of Interlude

Time is stalled. "――――No. I don't want this, Berserker…!!!" Ilya pleads to the giant. But he doesn't even try to figure out who is talking before he swings his sword――――

"ILYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" I run. I was flung about ten meters. This distance is nothing. I'll definitely make it if I run. One breath. The blood, drugs, and propellant running about my body are like a jet stream, and the igniting thought is like an electric charge――――!

―――I step in. My body feels light. Time seems to stand still.

―――I'll make it. I'll definitely make it. But even if I do…

―――I couldn't do anything with the Black Key. I couldn't match him. So…

―――I search, retrieve, and create it. What can beat him. What can match him.

―――It's clear. It can be nothing less than the sword he carries―――!

――――I block it. Projection succeeds as a matter of course.

" Ah." A crack. A crack runs through the axe-sword I projected. At the same time…

"[wacky len=15]!" "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!" I'm hit with feedback that's almost strong enough to kill me, punishing me for using something forbidden.

I'm flung away. My axe-sword shatters beneath his second attack, and my body slides across the ground like trash.

――――Fading. My consciousness is fading.

I can't think. I can't think even if I gather up everything.

My left arm revolts. My blood overflows. The restraint is still on my left arm, but my intelligence is half lost, and I feel a chill as though it'll never return… The ominous feeling will turn out to be true, and I'll start losing what I value the most.

"Ah, ――――" I'm enveloped by a rushing wind. I'm enveloped by intense light. I lost it, I lost it. I lost it amidst the agony. I can't find it, even though I search. My mind turns into a grain of sand within a desert, lost to everyone, drying up, drying up, drying up, drying up――――

"Shirou! Get yourself together and find yourself…!" There's Ilya. I'm on the ground. I'm about ten meters away from the black giant. His red, glaring eyes are looking around, as if trying to find me.

"――――――!" My consciousness returns. This is no time to be on the ground. My body still moves. The only external wounds are scratches from tree branches. It's just pain. My tongue tries to gasp for air. There isn't any oxygen in my body from all the running, so I want air.

That's all. What's important is inside my body――――I don't really want to know what condition it's in, but I can still fight――――!

"Let's get away from here, Ilya…!" I grab Ilya's hand and stand up. My body's all right, but I need air. I have to get out of his range to regain my breath――――!

But. "…Why? Shirou, do you even understand what's happening to you?" Ilya pulls away, as if denying my assistance.

"――――――――" Something's wrong. Berserker is right behind her. I'm myself, my head's not working due to oxygen deprivation, and I can't think why Ilya might say such a thing.

"Ilya?" "……I'm sorry. But it's fine now. Run away by yourself." "――――――――" Ilya hangs her head. I can't think straight. I can't, so I get pissed off instead.

"Man, don't throw a tantrum now! Let's go, Ilya! Now's not the time for that!" "Kya…!?"

I pull her arm. Her small body. Her desire to help me with that tiny body feels sacred.

"Hey, what are you doing, Shirou!? I said you've done enough…! You can still make it alone, so run…!" She hits my head. I ignore her.

"Shut up…! I wouldn't be here if I could do that…!" And I pull her close.

"Wha――――" Ilya's eyes ask me why. She's got to be kidding me. I don't even need to explain myself――――!

"I don't have a reason! I'm just selfishly protecting you! Look, an older brother protects his younger sister!" "What!? Are you stupid? I'm not your younger sister!" "It's fine! I'm an older brother since you called me Onii-chan! Even if we're not blood-related, you're still my younger sister!"

"――――――Shirou." The black giant turns to us. "Run, he's coming…!" I can think later. For now, I have to get away from him as fast as possible…!

――――It's a bit strange. I'm pulling Ilya and running at a speed far beyond Emiya Shirou's capabilities.

I come out into a familiar clearing. "Ah, haa, ha, ha――――!" Ilya's the one breathing hard. I'm not out of breath, maybe because my body's numb. My lungs are burning from lack of air, but I'm not breathing. I'm just like a corpse. My heart's gone on strike.

"Oh… I'm… fine… I can… run…!" Ilya's fingers are unnaturally hot. She's never had the energy necessary to run. Her design didn't account for ordinary human exercise.

"――――――――" I have a headache. Knowledge I never knew flows into my mind. Thoughts are useless. I have to get away for now. The mad, senseless giant is close on our heels.

I somehow widened the gap between us, but I can't hope for that speed again. My legs are shaking, and I calmly analyze that I can only run for about ten more meters.

Ilya can't keep this up either. There's nothing here for us to hide behind, even if we wanted to. Well――――hiding wouldn't accomplish much, since he can't see anything.

"――――Perfect." But we're fortunate. There's a crater. It's a scar on the earth made by Saber's Noble Phantasm.

"This way, Ilya――――!" I take Ilya's hand and jump into the crater.

The trench easily holds two people. "Haa――――" I lean against the dirt. Raising my head for air, I see the sky. A small cut-out patch of sky, as if I'm looking up from underground.

"Haa――――ah, ah――――" I just focus on breathing. For a bit, I relax and rest my body.

"……!" But it's only for an instant. The giant will not lose its prey. No matter where we run, he'll track us down and kill us.

"……Ah………! ………!" The suppressed voice is from the girl beside me. Ilya's frantically hugging herself so she won't be a burden on me.

"――――――――" This is the end. We can't run away, and we can't take much more of this. I look down at my left arm. The sole weapon to overcome this situation is waiting for its release.

I'll die. Kotomine said this is the switch of a time bomb. I recall the pain. Using projection nearly broke me. I can't imagine what the pain would be like if I released my arm.

The firing hammer is always in my head. Untying the red cloth is the same as putting a gun in my mouth and pulling the trigger. Once I remove the cloth, the firing hammer will go down. My brain will splatter out the back of my head, and everything will end there.

"――――――――" I have to be determined. The answer's already there. I need to bring Ilya back and save Sakura. I know what that means. I have to protect Ilya, defeat the shadow, and remove it from Sakura.

I wished for a miracle that I can't hope to accomplish. I'm still wishing with all my might. I know it's a dream that I can't make come true, but I've never even thought about giving up.

"――――――――" Then I have to go. I have to save Sakura and Ilya. It's impossible. Sakura's facing death, and only destruction awaits her. Someone said it'll take a miracle to save her.

――――That's right. Aid that's impossible with human powers. If I'm to perform a miracle that exceeds human capabilities, I'll need an appropriate compensation. I can't protect myself and someone else. If someone has to take Sakura's place in order to save her…

The ground's trembling. The embodiment of the storm is closing in.

"―――I'm going. I'm going to defeat him, Ilya." "Eh…?" She looks up in surprise. Ilya notices that my right hand is on my left arm.

"No…! You can't do that! You won't come back once you use Archer's arm…! You'll die. No, you'll be killed first! You haven't done anything wrong, so you don't have to go that far…!"

"I'll bear it. I'll somehow bear it even if I almost die, so you don't have to worry about me. Oh, and let me correct you. I've done bad things too."

"Eh――――Shirou…?" "Then I'm going. Wait here, Ilya." I pat her head and walk away.

I get away from Ilya. I'm going to attract his attention and fight him head-on. I have to get away from Ilya so she doesn't get involved in the fight.

"――――It's time." I place my hand on the knot by my shoulder. The knot by my wrist is tight, so if I'm going to take the cloth off, it'll have to be from up here. I just need to pull it all off after that. Then I'll be assailed by pain that's ten times worse than all I've suffered until now.

"――――――――" Kotomine said it's the switch of a time bomb. The fuse will be lit once I take it off. I don't know if it'll explode in the next minute or the next day. All I know is that I can't put out the fire once it's lit.

―――My mouth goes dry. Fear doesn't go away with determination. I want to scream out of sheer dread. ―――If I'll be sane or not. I'm scared of myself.

My death is only natural. I'll be killed even if I stay here. If I'm going to die either way, I'll choose the method that'll keep me alive longer.

So there's only one thing I'm scared of. And that is the possibility of losing my mind before my body dies.

"Ha―――――――aa." Will I be able to bear the pain? I might lose my sanity and forget about Ilya and Sakura. I might even forget the promise to protect them.

That's what I'm scared of. That's the only thing I'm scared of. That's why I sealed it. I know I can't use this arm even if my life's at stake.

…Berserker's appearance isn't somebody else's business. I'll be like him if I give in to the pain and lose my mind. No, the fear will always be with me so long as this arm exists. This arm's the embodiment of a nightmare that seeks to kill me. But. Why did I keep this arm in spite of that?

――――Then cut it off. There's only one reason. This arm exists to be used, and he entrusted me with it because it will be needed.

He said I'll be judged by myself. Ilya said I haven't done anything bad.

"Yeah――――that's good enough." The atonement lies here. I betrayed myself and sacrificed many lives. There's something I can't give up, and that's why I continue to live.

I put my hand on the red penalty. Live or die. I take a deep breath and rip the clot――――

At that instant. The world crumbles apart.

" [p] Ah."

Blowing despair. A strong wind that's going faster than a hundred meters per second. A fierce wind that doesn't allow the existence of living things, let alone allow one to stand up. Therefore, it's not a wind. It's steel, and my body's crushed by the pressure.

" [p] Gah."

My eyeballs are squashed. My back sinks into the wall. I can't lift my hand or fingers. My blood flows backward. My mind is bleached white. There's no pain. Feeling pain and enduring it are too human-like to happen here.

" [p] Ah, ah."

I'm melting. I can't even groan in protest. There's nothing. I have no way to fight it off. I have to move forward, but I can't move a finger.

" [p] Ahh, ah."

I'm melting into whiteness. My body and mind impassively crumble apart. Go forward. Why am I here? Keep going forward. For what am I here? Go to the other side. Why am I fighting? Pass through the wind and move forward.

" [p] ――――"

――――I'm disappearing. My body lost already, but I clench my teeth, not letting my mind lose… but my mind is disappearing.

I won't make it. I can't move, no matter how hard I try. I can't stay, no matter how determined I am. I try to clench my right fist with my whole existence on the line. If I can, I'll be able to hang in here. If I can move any part of my body, I can use that to move forward.

I can't move a finger, let alone make a fist. My left eyeball is crushed. The rush of the wind ruptures my eardrums. My vision fades away. Within it…

I see an unbelievable image.

" [p] Ah."

He's standing. He's standing in this wind. He's standing, walking to the other side. ―――As if it's a matter of course. The wind of steel has no effect on him. He walks forward, his red coat billowing behind him.

" [p] Ahh, ah."

Strength is back in my jaws. I grit my teeth. My right hand is already in a fist.

The red knight takes no notice of me. Set in a stern expression, his face is slightly turned away, showing no interest in me as the wind rushes to engulf me.

For him, this result was expected. Emiya Shirou cannot stand against this wind. He knew there's no future for the man who betrayed himself and wished for something out of his reach.

He's right. The crimes I've accumulated will judge me. But he…

'――――Can you keep up with me?'

As if to scorn me, as if to believe in me. He's waiting for me to get there.

" ――――It's not 'can you keep up with me.'"

My vision fires up. I force as much heat as I can into my body. My limbs cut through the wind like giant swords.

"You keep up with me――――!"

I pass the red figure with all my might.

"[wacky len=14]" I step up onto the ground. The wind's died down. There's about thirty meters to the black giant. It'll take him less than three seconds to close this distance. ―――Therefore. The outcome of this battle will be decided in the next three seconds.

My mind's clear. I know the scope of my power. Projection using creation concept, basic structure, composition, production technique, growth experience, and accumulated years. A Reality Marble that inverts the world engraved on your soul, the embodiment of the mental world using theory of magic, the world egg. Inheritance of battle technique, experience, and physical strength from Archer. Correction. Failed to read physical strength. I'll still be killed in one blow.

Reality Marble, "Unlimited Blade Works", isn't usable. Archer's world and mine are different. I can't reproduce it. I can only reproduce what Emiya Shirou has learned, or the Noble Phantasms he has recorded. If I'm to use a Noble Phantasm from my left arm, I have to search within "Unlimited Blade Works" for the Noble Phantasm best suited for the situation and reproduce it.

But be warned. Projection is a two-edged sword. If you use it once, it will――――

"――――――――" I hold my breath and put all my magical energy into my left arm. I only need to understand the weapons I can use. I already know the precautions. I have to move forward. I have to go beyond that wind and defeat myself――――

"――――Trace, on." I stare at it. I see through his giant sword. I open my left hand and grasp the imaginary handle of the weapon that has yet to exist. An extraordinary weight. Emiya Shirou cannot handle this giant sword. But―――my left arm will definitely reproduce the strength of my enemy.

"Ah――――――――" It breaks. A part of my brain explodes. My bones break, not being able to withstand the overflowing magical energy. It's unsightly like apple skin.

"Here I come――――――――" There's no need to worry. will reinforce the broken parts. I will give my undivided attention to killing him for certain.

"[wacky len=12]!" He notices me. His hostility now has a focus. Recognizing my use of magic as a threat, his eyes move.

They're like ominous stars. The giant gives a death cry and runs to kill his enemy.

―――Mad warrior. The giant is insane, but still the same. He's still fighting his battle against Saber. He is blind and insane, his life has ended twice over, and his body is rotting, but he's still fighting to protect Ilya.

―――――���――――One second.

"――――――――" The running giant won't stop with one blow, and normal projection is useless against him. Tracing won't do the trick. I can't beat that giant unless I use projection past my limits. Therefore―――

"――――Trigger, off."

Nine in my head. I use all twenty-seven Magic Circuits in my head and smash it in one blow――――

――――――――――Two seconds.

He's right before me. His massive sword is upraised. Torrent and swirling vigor. He steps forward, and I confront him by also stepping forward. Upper arm, collarbone, windpipe, temple, diaphram, rib, testicles, and thigh. I take aim at the eight targets. "Set――――Nine Lives Blade Works."

I surpass the crashing speed of sound using godspeed―――!

"[wacky len=5]―――……!" But he doesn't fall. His entire body has been torn through by his own weapon, but Berserker's still alive.

"Haa――――ah――――……!!!!" I step forward. His weapon is in my left hand. I'm faster. I can land a finishing blow before Berserker, who's missing an eighth of his body. I raise the giant sword up to his chest and thrust it like a lance.

"[wacky len=16]――――!!!!" But I lost. I put all I had into it. I used every ounce of the unfair advantage I have, but it still wasn't enough. Berserker's attack draws near. It's swung down with hurricane force.

"――――――――" I twist my body. I use all my abilities to evade his attack. I saw it coming. So I can dodge it. Berserker's attack will only graze my head.

――――But that will still kill me instantly. Even a grazing blow from that monstrous blade will be the end. A direct hit can even destroy the ground. Even a brush with the tip of his sword will scatter my head like tofu.

The giant sword comes crashing down. My vision freezes the instant my head is blown away. ―――But. The sword swung with blinding speed… …Is stopped with blinding speed.

"――――――――Eh?" The deathblow never comes. "――――――――" The black giant is looking forward. Not at me, who's under him. He's staring at the white girl who emerged from her cover.

I pierce him. Without hesitation or mercy, I drive the giant sword into his heart.

There's no counter-attack. Berserker exhausts the last of his life force and crumbles to dust, for good this time.

…And at that moment. As his red eyes fade away, they remain focused on the girl, telling me to protect her.

――――The battle ends in an instant. It really does end in one breath.

The boy, with trembling lips, said he was going. He suppressed his fatigue and fear, put his hand on the red restraint, and walked away from the girl.

She went out to stop him. She hesitated for a second, wondering what she could say. She couldn't come up with anything, yet still followed after him. It wasn't even ten seconds. But that slight hesitation determined the outcome.

"Shir――――――――" She emerges, following the boy. The battle has already ended. The giant who once protected her disappeared, his eyes fixed on her. Wind blows through the clearing, as if signaling that the conflict has ended. The figure is all that's left in her vision.

"――――――――" The battle has ended. It's not the power of the heroic spirit's arm. Using his own power, the boy fought against his death and won. The girl keeps staring at his back. He will never turn around and look back again.

He has released the Shroud and defeated the giant. His figure looks heroic and powerful. There's no doubt left in him now. He cast away all agonies when he released the cloth and used projection.

"―――――――――Shirou." The girl keeps watching him, filled with sorrow. His body looks like someone else's now. ―――It's a foolish and sacred end with no return.

"――――――――Haa." I resume breathing. My left arm burns, and I ache all over. Snakes with electricity are in my body, wriggling around like mad.

"Ah――――guh――――" I can't stay standing. Quickly. I have to quickly cover my left arm with the cloth and escape this pain, or the time limit will come.

"Haa――――Haa――――" But I can't do that. Suppressing my left arm and resting… …Comes after defeating her.

"――――Saber." I endure my pain and stare at her so I won't lose spirit. "…………" Maybe she's been following Berserker all along. She slowly comes closer to me, as if resuming the giant's task.

……Seven meters. Saber stops once I am within range.

"――――――――" "…………" We face each other straight-on.

―――I'll be killed. After my fight with Berserker, I can't move anymore. I'll be cut in two without being able to fight back.

No. Even if I were in perfect shape, I wouldn't be able to beat Saber. I can't project anything stronger than her Noble Phantasm. So there's no competition. To beat Saber, I need an appropriate user to use his Noble Phantasm that equals her Noble Phantasm.

"Ha――――――――" There's a contradiction already. Saber's Noble Phantasm is the strongest. There may be heroic spirits whose Noble Phantasms exceed hers, but there are no such people in this Holy Grail War. If anything can beat Saber, it'll be her own sword.

Therefore, a contradiction. Saber's the strongest Servant in battle. …Sakura did have extraordinary amount of magical energy. But even Sakura wouldn't be able to defeat Saber. Saber is literally invincible now that she's released from me and has a great source of magical energy.

"―――What a futile effort. I warned you that you cannot save Sakura, and this is the result?" There's no emotion in her voice. "―――――!" That's the signal. She mercilessly comes to take my life.

"――――" So what? I can't be killed here. I can't lose, even against Saber. I may not be able to beat her, but I should be able to escape with Ilya――――

"But you are fortunate. I have no time to spare for someone who will soon die in any case. Sakura is calling for me." "Eh――――?" Saber turns around and walks off.

"…No. It is not merely luck. You earned your life with your own hands. You defeated Berserker. Your determination yielded this result." Saber leaves without turning around.

…I can't call out to her. She's my enemy. No matter the reason, I'll thankfully accept the fact that she spared my life. I'm covered in wounds, leaving me nothing to spare.

"――――――――" I stifle my pain and turn my back to Saber. I have to leave the forest with Ilya. …Saber's not my only enemy. Even if I do separate Sakura from the shadow, Zouken will get in our way.

"Guh――――" I know what happened and what's going to happen to my body. I can project three more times at most. …No, even projecting once is dangerous if I don't want any physical defects.

I can't fight Zouken and Assassin in this condition. There'll be no point if my body explodes after I beat them. Then I should keep my last projection to keep my promise with Tohsaka. Then there's still hope, even after I die.

"Shirou…?" I hear Ilya's voice from somewhere.

"…Yeah. Let's get out of this forest as quickly as we can. We won't be able to get away if Saber―――no, if Sakura changes her mind." I can't see Ilya. My heart's thumping loudly, jumping around inside my skull.

Interlude 15-4

―――Purification by the holy word. The priest's exorcism disperses Matou Zouken's spiritual body. Only two figures remain. One is Kotomine Kirei, leaning against a wall with wounds all over his body, his cloak red with blood. The other is the masked assassin, bound to a tree by the Black Keys.

"―――You completely eradicated the magus, Executor. Did you know he was just a collection of worms?" "――――" He turns to the voice. Assassin is no longer there. The only things on the tree are the Black Keys and a small trace of blood.

"…I've known him for a long time. I knew he was a spirit that used worms to tamper with this world. It would do no good to rip his body to pieces. If one were to kill him, one would have to completely eliminate his body, or…"

"Attack the spirit itself, as you did, eh? I see. The magus had a strong binding to the world, but he's vulnerable to the holy words of the Bible. Exorcist, eh? One might say you were Matou Zouken's natural enemy."

"――――――――" The priest doesn't answer, but checks on his wounded body. The bleeding has stopped. He's out of weapons, but he suffered no fatal wounds, and his strength should return once he rests for a few minutes.

"So, what are you going to do, Assassin? Your Master is gone. My holy words should have an effect on you now that your source of magical energy is gone." "…I would assume so. My body will soon disappear. Without a Master, I am no different from the wandering spirits in this forest. My body will degrade to that of a lowly spirit within a day, and I shall disappear from this world."

"Correct. I can harm Servants without Masters. So, what will you do? Will you avenge your Master?" "I am not so foolish as that. He suffered defeat because of his own arrogance. It is not my fault. But still, something does not make sense, and that I must ask of you."

"You must mean how your Zabaniya failed. I believe you obtained your arm from Shaytaan, but it will have no effect on me as long as it bears the name of the fallen angel. That arm punishes humans, so it cannot curse one of its own kind. As my heart is not human, it is strong against such a curse."

"――――I thought so. Your heart was the same as that girl's. You must already be tainted." The priest doesn't answer. He merely smiles ironically.

"…But how did you know? You could not act as you did unless you knew my arm would have no effect on you. Your intention was to have me use my Noble Phantasm, correct?" "Yes. I already knew about your arm, Assassin. A cursed arm that creates an image of the target's heart and swaps it with the real heart. That's how you killed my Servant."

"――――! Then you…" "Yes, I watched it until he died. It's natural that I knew about your arm. Your blunder was made the instant you killed Lancer." "――――Damn, that was indeed a blunder." Assassin tut-tuts in self-deprecation. His hostility disappears at the same time. He must be satisfied with the answer, as he quickly retreats.

"…So he went to look for another Master. I'd assume his next Master would be Matou Sakura―――" That's not a problem for the priest. It's fine as long as Matou Zouken doesn't kill Matou Sakura.

Zouken's wish is immortality. He can achieve his wish by having Sakura's body turn into the Holy Grail. The curse in the Holy Grail will not hatch if the old man is alive. It's meaningless if Sakura becomes his tool. She needs to remain a Master. Because…

'――――You will never find it. You were defective from birth―――'

"――――――――" He gets dizzy. It must be because of the fatigue and loss of blood. The priest leans against the wall and closes his eyes.

It all happened ten years ago.

'Defective from birth――――'

The man did everything he could after accepting the fact. He couldn't understand morals, but had common sense. So his teenage years were spent trying to overcome his defect. But it never happened. The man's purgatories and sufferings were entirely useless. And his final attempt was a woman.

It's a simple story. Every human wishes to love one of the opposite sex, have a family, and die peacefully. Even if one may detest the peace, one can only dream about it. This man is no exception. He wished for such a thing, even though he felt no fascination in it. He loved a woman, trying to earn ordinary happiness.

The man chose a woman with no future. She was terminally ill, only expected to live for a few years. Did he choose her because of that, or was that his only choice? He still doesn't know.

Their life together lasted for about two years. The man tried to love the woman. The woman tried to love the man, did love him, and even had his child. But the result didn't change. It was because the man derived his happiness from the woman's suffering and his child's despair. The more he tried to love, the more their suffering saved him.

The contradiction didn't make the man suffer. He doesn't even know if he suffered. But the more the woman tried to cure him, the more he wanted to see her grieve.

The woman was a saint. She was sickly, but she was still a saint for him. It need not be said how faithful she was or how deeply she understood his anger. That's why the man was in despair. No human will ever understand him and try to heal him to her degree. And this woman still could not fill the void within him.

Then――――there was no need to live and question right and wrong. He was born defective. His birth was some kind of mistake. He concluded that if his existence was a mistake, it was best to disappear. And he went to bid goodbye to the woman before he died. He made her his wife as an experiment, so it's his natural duty to go tell her of his end.

The woman loved Kotomine. Kotomine tried to love the woman. That's all there is to this story.

The end came relatively quickly. "I could not love you." That's all the man said in the room made of stone. The dying woman smiled. She was unable to stand up, because her body was now composed of just skin and bone. "―――No. I love you." With a smile, she took her own life.

There was no way to stop her, and stopping her was meaningless. The woman had a fatal disease. She would eventually die. He knew that when he chose her.

The woman, covered in blood, looked up at the man and smiled. "See. You're crying." He wasn't crying, of course. It's just that the woman saw it that way. The woman used her death to prove to him that he could love, and that he deserved to live. The man silently left the room and broke away from the teachings of God.

―――Yes. He certainly felt sad. But not because she died. The man, at that time, thought… 'How terrible. If she was going to die, I wanted to kill her myself.'

He grieved over losing the chance to enjoy her death.

――――It happened long ago. He can't remember her voice or her face. But sometimes he thinks, 'I wanted to kill her.' Is that for his pleasure, or――― Is it grief over wanting to kill the one he loved with his own hands?

He cuts off his thought process whenever the answer flickers in his head. It's something that should be hidden forever. The woman's death was meaningless. Her devotion couldn't change him. But the man didn't want to consider her death to be worthless. ―――So he stopped searching for answers.

…It all happened long ago. The memory of the man who feeds on others' misfortunes. The man later meets his nemesis. Emiya Kiritsugu. A magus that cast away what the man might have wanted――――

"――――――――" He opens his eyes. It seems he fell asleep. He checks his condition, starts to walk to catch up to Emiya Shirou, and…

"――――No, you can't go anywhere. Because you die here."

…Is interrupted by a girl.

She has completely changed. Her black outfit is her shadow. She's covering her body with her own dark magical energy. ―――The amount and the presence of her magical energy is beyond human capabilities. She's at the same level as pure heroic spirits, the Counter Guardians.

"…You are completely tainted, Matou Sakura. You cannot change to that degree unless your mind is attuned to the curse. ―――So you've accepted the fact that you're a human-eating monster." Even though the priest wished for it, he still criticizes the girl. As if to blame her for being intoxicated with her power.

"…Hah. But is it wrong to be drunk with your power? It can't be helped. Everyone picked on me too much. I think I would've endured it longer if everyone was nicer to me." "――――Oh. Endure what?"

"Myself, priest-san. I finally understand now. I hate this world. The Tohsaka family that threw me away. Nee-san, who lived without any troubles. My scary grandfather and my pitiful brother. The people living peacefully without knowing about my pain."

"I can't allow such things now. …I know I'm just taking my anger out on others. I know it's wrong, but I still think this way. ―――Yes. I wonder what kind of face the people who haven't helped me will make when they realize I exist."

The girl smiles, as if it's a sacred pleasure. The priest doesn't change his expression. He keeps staring at the girl as if regarding something foul.

"You have changed, Matou Sakura. I see, your darkness was one of the qualities to adapt." "Yes, I've changed. I'm not the old Matou Sakura. That weak girl doesn't exist anymore. …Yes. Everyone tormented me until now. So I'm just getting back at them. The me who sat there and endured is gone."

She laughs. Double personality. The original Matou Sakura disappeared, and the other personality surfaced. That's the only logical reason for her change. But… "―――What are you talking about? You don't need to hide it, Matou Sakura." The priest quickly denies it.

"W――――What do you mean?" "I said there's no need to hide it. You are not another personality. You were swallowed by the mud and have become addicted to violence, but you are still Matou Sakura. You don't need to prepare another personality to excuse yourself." Her face stiffens. He's absolutely right. The girl grits her teeth and glares back at the priest.

"What are you saying!? You're the one who made me like this…!" The girl's shadow reacts to her hateful voice. ―――A blazing infringement. The shadow covers the ground in an instant.

"I won't deny it. I kept you alive so that you would remain its Master. You measured up to my expectations, and you are about to give birth to Avenger. You have easily accomplished what I could not."

"It wasn't easy at all…! You don't know how painful it was, how much pain I'm going through right now…!" "I don't know, and there's no need to know. I'm not so mad as to listen to a girl's complaint."

"――――! …………I see. You're right. I don't want you to know. I won't let you feel compassion. I'm in a position where I can make anyone realize whatever I want." She smiles cruelly.

"――――――――" The priest retreats without any hesitation. He quickly backs away, like when he captured Matou Zouken.

―――The priest retreats with one jump. She may have vast magical energy, but she's still inexperienced. She has no experience with battle, and she's unskilled as a magus. It's easy for him to retreat.

"―――How foolish. Do you think you can get away from me?"

She smiles. The priest falls to the ground at that instant.

"Guh――――gah……!" He rolls down. He falls to the ground, coughing up blood. "Haa――――hm, guh……!" It doesn't stop. He can't stop coughing up blood. Every time he tries to breathe, it wells up in his throat.

"How does it feel to have someone grab hold of your heart? Your life's under my control, no matter where you are." "Mm――――guh――――!" "You died ten years ago. Emiya Kiritsugu shot your heart and you died. But you stayed alive because of one reason."

"You're that… hmm, who was it? It's the Servant I ate before, but I guess his name doesn't matter. That gold person was showered with the contents of the Holy Grail, which connected him to it. But it couldn't taint that man, so it flowed into you, his Master. Right? And you were resurrected. Avenger. Your life was saved because Angra Manyu supplied you with magical energy."

"Ha――――I see. Then this is…" "Yes. You're connected to Angra Manyu. But I'm Angra Manyu. ――――So I squashed it. I destroyed the fake heart that kept you alive. I can squash your organs too if you want. I can pull out your insides, no matter where you are."

She raises her hand. How can she say 'if you want'? The girl has no intention of keeping him alive. No matter how much he may beg for his life, she'll laugh as she kills him. He'll give her back his fake life. Because it's hers. Even if it's just a speck next to her total magical energy, there's no reason for her to let the priest keep it.

"Goodbye. I appreciate the fact that you saved me." She grasps her slender fingers together as if to twist apart an invisible doll. A crushing sound. The priest's body is squeezed like a rag. One more twist. The priest will die in the next second. But right before that…

"――――! Ah, uh, ah――――!?" The girl doubles over in pain. …She coughs up blood. She scratches the ground, as if begging for help.

"Ku――――it hurts, no… don't… come in――――!" The shadow expands. …What happened? The shadow on her body expands, then slowly shrinks back to the original size.

"……No way…… Berserker lost…?" There's no other explanation. Berserker was defeated. He died, dissolved into pure magical energy, and was consumed by her, the Holy Grail.

"――――Ah――――Ah――――" Her mind distorts. The personality called Matou Sakura is pushed even further into a corner now. …She can't move any farther, but the great soul pushes her against the wall.

"――――――――――――Ah." …She'll disappear. She'll disappear. Matou Sakura will disappear. "――――――――Before that…" She thinks of killing the priest, looks up, and is annoyed by her failure to follow through.

"――――Fine. He's… going… to die… anyway." There's no one at the ruin. On the ground where Kotomine Kirei lay is his blood-soaked outfit.

End of Interlude

We reach the forest's edge faster than I expected. It's probably because I had Ilya's guidance. The car I arrived in is gone. We started walking to town, stopped a car, and got a lift.

We're both filthy after running through the forest, making us look really suspicious. So I jumped out in front of a car to stop it, and Ilya used suggestion on the driver to make him pick us up. Man. I never thought I'd get a ride like this.

"We're home, Shirou. Let's go in." "――――Eh?" We're back at my place in an instant. The sun's setting. It seems I fell asleep on the way back.

The sun has set by the time I make it to the living room. It's past seven o'clock already.

"―――――――――" Something's wrong. Time's passing by too fast. It was afternoon when I stepped into the house, so it's not possible for it to be night as soon as I step into the living room.

"Ilya. Isn't time passing by too fast?" I talk to Ilya, standing beside me.

"――――――――" But Ilya isn't there. Ilya is… "Hm? The dinner was good, Shirou." …Already in the living room, saying strange things.

"――――――――Dinner?" "Yeah. I was surprised you wanted to get energy before anything, but I'm glad we did. You were so enthusiastic while you were cooking."

"――――――――" There are remnants of dinner on the table. There are dishes in the sink. Come to think of it, I feel pretty full. It seems I really did make dinner.

"……That's strange. Did we have this in stock?" "Nope. That's why we were dropped off at the shopping district to get some groceries."

"――――――――" I look through my memory. …… ………… ……………… ……………………Well. I guess that's what happened.

"I see. I guess I'm talking nonsense. So we had dinner, huh?" "Yeah. All that's left is to rest."

"Hm―――yeah, we have to rest. I'm going to go change in my room. I need to talk, so please stay up. I'll be back right away." Ilya nods. I raise my hand in apology and leave the living room.

And the next thing I know, I'm in my room. The instant I step out of the living room, I'm on the floor in my bedroom.

"Ah… Guh――――!" I wake up because of the piercing pain. A sword's pierced in my chest. That's the first thing I imagine because my chest is hot and numb, and it feels like my life is draining out from it.

"Guh――――" There's no sword, of course. It's just an illusion. The left side of my chest is simply rebelling against my left arm. But I finally realize. My sense of time. The intermittent scenes are…

"…I see. It's not my sense of time that's odd." It's just that my mind is screwed up. It's not that I have no memory. I just can't record the events into my brain.

I can't hold events in my mind unless I concentrate on them. It's natural that I can't remember anything that happened after I left the forest. I can't stay conscious unless I'm in pain, like now.

"――――――This is bad." I frantically grasp at my fading consciousness. Unless I consciously focus my mind, Emiya Shirou will disappear. Only pain or the utmost concentration can preserve my memories. In short, I have to maintain the level of concentration I had when I was trying to insert the Magic Circuit into my spine.

"――――――――" …I'm stumped. I can't keep this up forever, and I don't know how long it'll work.

"…Wait. That means I shouldn't sleep." Once I fall asleep, I won't be able to wake up. Once I fall asleep, "Emiya Shirou" will never return. Even if my body's unwounded, my mind would be scattered.

"――――――――――" I raise my body. I search through my desk. I need a small blade. Something I can hide in my right hand that'll dig into my flesh if I make a fist. I can't keep up the concentration I have during training. I have to clench my fist every time I relax so that the pain will keep me conscious.

"…Oh. It's not a blade, but this might do." I find the crystal from that day. …The pendant I found beside me after I was killed by Lancer. I don't know how much magical energy was originally in this, but now there's not even enough for one strengthening magic left in it.

…That's right. Now, I can clearly think about who this pendant belongs to, and who could have saved me that night. After all, she was the only other person at school at that time. I don't know why she saved me, but she wouldn't need a reason to save a life.

"Ah――――!" My consciousness starts to fade away. I'll think about it later. I'll fall unconscious if I think about happy things and relax.

―――I check my condition. I released the seal on my left arm. I put the Shroud back on it, but it's only there to ease my mind. According to Kotomine, the switch would be tripped if I used Archer's arm. He said there'd nothing I could do after that.

"――――――――" But I can still move my body. The problem is my mind, but I can stay conscious as long as I stay awake. As for projection… I can probably project three more times using Archer's arm.

I know I can manage it once. I'm scared about the second time. The third will be fatal. I think my body will self-destruct, even if my mind's still alive.

"…………" I close my eyes and strain my ears. …I hear creaking sounds along with my heartbeat.

…The thing invading my body from Archer's arm. It gets harder to suppress his Reality Marble the more I use his Blade Works. Eventually, an infinite number of blades will be created inside my body instead of outside. …I don't even want to imagine what'll happen. A thousand blades will pierce my body from within, killing me instantly.

"―――――Don't kid me. I won't kill myself." I'm in a hopeless condition. I accept the whole situation. But I reject the facts as they stand. I won't die, and I won't self-destruct. Not waking up after I fall asleep is just a product of my frightened imagination.

―――I'll be saved. I'll be saved once I do everything I need to. It's meaningless otherwise. I said I'll protect Sakura no matter what. So I can't just die selfishly.

"―――That's right. I have to contact Tohsaka first." I don't have time. I'll go to her house. I'm worried about whether Kotomine's all right, but he's not my ally anymore now that we've saved Ilya. I can't ask for his help again, but the promise to…

It's past nine o'clock. I thought I came back right away, but it's been two hours already.

"―――Sorry to keep you waiting, Ilya. I'm going to Tohsaka's house, so let's go together." "Rin's house? I don't mind, but why?"

"Eh… why? We have to meet up with Tohsaka. And I'm worried about how she's doing. Kotomine said she'd heal by tonight, but I can't really trust him. If she's not doing well, I'll need to look after her."

"Okay. That's fine, but Shirou…" Ilya points to the wall. ――――Then.

"I'm glad to know you're worrying about me. As you can see, I'm all right. But if you were that worried about me, I wish you'd have come by my house before heading off to the forest."

"T-Tohsaka…!? When did you get here…?"

"I was here about an hour ago. I heard from Ilya what happened at the forest."

Tohsaka's in a bad mood… No, she's angry. It seems she doesn't like the fact that I went to the forest without her.

"I can't help it. I thought I had to act as quickly as possible, and Ilya was in serious danger. …Right, Ilya?"

"……Yeah. I wasn't locked up anywhere, but I could've been taken to the Great Holy Grail and had my heart taken out at any time. Zouken wanted to open the gate as soon as he took control of Sakura. I would be dead right now if Shirou and Kotomine had come a bit later."

"―――See. I wouldn't have made it if I'd waited for you." "Who knows? So it all depended on Sakura, right? Tell me the truth, Ilya."

"Oh, you can tell? Yeah, there was a bit more time. Sakura's strong, so she won't easily break. I think there was about one more day to spare until she lost herself and fell under Zouken's control."

"I thought so. You shouldn't pamper Shirou too much. A little strictness is just right for him." "―――You're right. I'll be grateful if you see to that."

The two criticize me. But if the time limit was a day, I don't think we would've made it if I'd waited for Tohsaka. I was faced with an important choice in the forest, but in exchange, I'm able to regain the time the three of us can spend together.

"――――!" …I concentrate hard, since I'm starting to relax. It seems the tension faded away during the conversation.

"……Hm……? Hold on, Ilya. You said Sakura might last one more day. Then the remaining time we have is…"

"Half a day at most. …No, no matter how hard Sakura tries, Avenger is about to be born. Once that happens, she will change completely. Nobody can save Sakura, and nobody will be saved."

""――――Avenger…?"" Tohsaka and I frown at the strange word.

"Yes, Avenger. It's the eighth class in the Holy Grail War. It's a 'violation' that the Einzberns summoned by breaking the rules. That's what tainted the contents of the Great Holy Grail. It's the main body that assimilated with Sakura, projecting the shadow because it couldn't go into the outside world. It's something that should not exist, consuming human lives to take form."

"That's Avenger―――an anti-hero that the Einzbern Master summoned in the third ritual."

"You know about it, Ilya…!? You know what that shadow is, and what Sakura's possessed by…!?" "Yeah. I got the information out of Sakura, so I understand what's going on. What we have to do. What, exactly, you've made into your enemy."

Ilya closes her eyes once. …Is that resignation? Ilya sighs and then stares at us.

"What I'm about to talk about is the heart of the matter, and it's nothing that concerns you two. You shouldn't be burdened with this. Shirou, Rin. As you two are the last Masters in the Holy Grail War, I shall tell you the truth."

"Ilya――――?" Tohsaka looks at Ilya in surprise. I do likewise. Ilya shows calmness and emptiness as if she's someone else.

"Everything started two hundred years ago. No, the journey of those who seek the Holy Grail began long before that. But two hundred years ago, the ritual was begun in this land."

"I'll start from there. The Holy Grail grants any wish. Einzbern, Makiri, and Tohsaka cooperated to conduct a ritual to summon the Holy Grail. That's how the Holy Grail War came to be. A murderous battle between seven summoned Servants to determine the ownership of the Holy Grail. Magi who are chosen as Masters become the hosts of the Servants and kill each other until only one magus remains. That's the ostensible reason for the Holy Grail War that you two know of."

"You don't look surprised, Rin. So you had some idea of it, huh?"

"…Somewhat. I knew all along that I was being used, but I didn't mind it too much. I'm reaping the benefits by using somebody else's system. We're both using each other. I'm not stupid enough to get angry over something so trivial."

"Really? Then I don't have to explain that the order is reversed? How about you, Shirou? Did you already know that the process of making the Servants fight is unnecessary?"

"――――――――" …Well, I did know.

Servants are summoned by the Holy Grail. The heroic spirits are summoned to determine whether the summoner deserves the Holy Grail. Once summoned, they make a contract with a Master to stay in this world and obtain the Holy Grail. Then they go out to defeat the other Masters and Servants.

…In and of itself, that's not a problem. But once I found out the defeated heroic spirits are absorbed into the Holy Grail, something felt off. Heroic spirits―――Servants are only a factor in determining which Master is suited for the Holy Grail. So why are they taken into the Holy Grail after their purpose has been served?

"…So does that mean heroic spirits are needed for the Holy Grail War, and Masters are just a tool to summon them?"

"Right. In the ritual of the war, Masters are mere receptors to summon the Servants. Once they've done that, they can die at any time. The heroic spirits are the only ones needed to complete the Holy Grail. Heroic spirits are pure souls separate from the time axis. Though they are outside of this world's logic, they can still influence it."

"That's the power they needed. They tried to exit into the outer world using that power. That's the real purpose of the Holy Grail in this land. The Holy Grail Wars were waged to create a phenomenon, a miracle, that is still out of human reach."

"That's the great ritual to attain immortality that's said to have been lost by the Einzberns. Not a heroic spirit or a holy spirit, but a soul of a mere human that's fated to disappear from this world. Bringing it about is an act of God."

"―――The name of the miracle is 'Heavens Feel'. It's the golden cup that's the third of the five existing sorceries."

"S――――Sorceries!? You mean 'those' sorceries…!?" "――――――――" The air tenses up. Ilya says that the Holy Grail is a ritual to perform a sorcery.

Sorcery. A divine mystery that cannot be reached with magic. An impossible phenomenon that cannot be achieved by modern people. It's the ultimate goal of every magus, and those who achieve it are called "sorcerers" with envy and awe.

There are five sorceries acknowledged by the Magic Association. As I'm not even in the Association, I have no way to know, but I've heard that there are five sorceries and that there are about four sorcerers.

"W-Wait…! So the Third Sorcery is the materialization of the soul!? But Servants are materialized souls too…!"

"No. The system does use a part of the Third Sorcery, but the heroic spirits are summoned. Servants aren't alive as part of this world or time. It's too imperfect to be the Third Sorcery. And heroic spirits can take form in this world without the help of sorcery as long as they have a host."

"Heavens Feel is not a spell that duplicates a soul perceived in the past. It's actually a spell to make an existence of a higher dimension that can take a spirit form and still influence the physical world. It takes a soul and elevates it to the next level of life."

"Next step――――that's certainly serious, but… Even though the details are different, all sorceries are a way to reach the origin! What does it have to do with the Holy Grail?"

"No. First of all, there's only one administrated land in Japan that can activate a sorcery. I know the ley line in Fuyuki is first-class, but there's not enough distortion to connect to the origin."

"Right. It's not distorted enough to reach the origin. That's why you make a hole. If the path is obstructed, you have to destroy the wall yourself, right?"

"The Holy Grail War is the process of destroying the wall. The process accumulates enough magical energy to grant any wish. But that's just a secondary matter for the Einzbern family. And it was also an advertisement to call for the Masters, the sacrifices."

"The Einzberns only needed a giant magic circle that could store great amounts of magical energy without attracting the notice of the Magic Association. The head of the Tohsaka family at that time cooperated with them. This country doesn't receive much attention from the Association, and there aren't many first-class lands that rank next to Aozaki's land. Fuyuki City was almost the perfect test site, meeting all the requirements."

"You should be able to figure out the rest. There are two kinds of Holy Grails that govern the Holy Grail War. The Holy Grail in this land and the Holy Grail Einzbern prepares. The former is a magic circle that uses the land administrated by Tohsaka. This is called the Great Holy Grail. The key that the Einzbern family prepares for each ritual is called the Holy Grail."

"The Great Holy Grail administers the system of the Holy Grail War. The Holy Grail collects the souls of the defeated heroic spirits and acts as the reactor core to activate the Great Holy Grail."

"And once the Holy Grail collects enough souls to activate the Great Holy Grail, it uses the heroic spirits' souls to open a hole. The Great Holy Grail fixes the small hole created when the heroic spirits return to their original place after their roles are fulfilled. This opens up the passage to the origin that humans cannot reach."

"Of course, this is just the first step. Your wish isn't granted even if the hole is opened. The path to the origin is too far."

"But―――the one who obtains the Holy Grail gains access to unlimited magical energy. The other side has large quantities of unused mana unlike anything seen on this side. For an ordinary magus, it's nothing short of a miracle."

"……I see. So the Great Holy Grail is the magic circle which serves as the foundation, and the Holy Grail is the key to activate it. The Holy Grail Wars must occur on a sixty-year cycle to accumulate enough mana to summon the heroic spirits."

"There's no way you can carry out such a summoning with one person's magical energy. The Great Holy Grail draws mana from the land slowly so as not to deplete it, and once it's full―――"

"Yes, it summons the heroic spirits as Servants. But you need an incentive to summon the heroic spirits. They won't heed your call unless you give them what they want. That's why the Holy Grail was prepared to reward them."

"…Well, that's a deception from the start. The Einzberns just wanted the souls of the heroic spirits. They didn't care about their rank. They just wanted strong souls. To hide that fact, they created the Holy Grail War as a cover. They deceived the Servants and Masters and made them kill each other."

"…Well, I guess that started from the second ritual. The first was conducted in a foolishly honest manner and failed right away because the three families fought for its exclusive right."

"So the rule was made starting with the second ritual. ̠ Outsiders were called and made to fight for the Holy Grail. Masters from outside the families were just an inconvenience after the Servants had been summoned, so it more efficient to have them killed in battle. It was convenient for the three families because they could legitimately kill their collaborators."

"Unbelievable. So the rule for Masters to kill each other exists because they couldn't decide who gets the ownership by talking and had to resort to violence?"

"Yup. But choosing the last magus standing proved to be an even better method than expected. It's just like you. There were Servants and Masters that found out they were tricked, but it seems they didn't care. It's because you obtain the Holy Grail if you win."

Tohsaka's convinced. "………" …In short, the Holy Grail War is not a battle to obtain the Holy Grail, but a ritual to escape to the outside world.

Attempts to reach the outside world. According to hermeticism, there's a power that governs dimensional theory outside of this world. It's called the 'swirl of the origin', and it's a coordinate that's considered to be the beginning of all things. It's the start and the end of all creation. It's the seat of God, recording everything and able to create anything.

"………" But I really don't care about that. My father would've understood what a big deal it is, but it doesn't concern me. What's possessing Sakura is much more important to me than how it all started.

"Ilya. I don't care about the real purpose of the war. It has nothing to do with us, just like you said. More importantly, tell us about the thing you mentioned earlier."

"It has nothing to do with us!? We're talking about sorcery here! And the Third Sorcery at that! It's the taboo out of all taboos that's been kept a secret even within the association! If you're a magus, you can't ignore something like this――――"

"I can. …Man, why do you have the wrong idea, Tohsaka? This isn't the time to be talking about something that can't succeed anyway." "C-Can't succeed? What are you basing that on?"

"Hey now. I don't know why, but the Holy Grail War has never had a victor. That means there's something wrong with the ritual. …First of all, how will you explain what's happening to Sakura? If the Holy Grail's a path to reach sorcery, does that mean Sakura's like that because of sorcery?" Maybe I convinced her, because she shuts her mouth.

"So, Ilya. Why did the Holy Grail War turn out like this? Kotomine said there's something in the Holy Grail. So is this that Avenger thing? And he's not in the Holy Grail, Sakura or Ilya, but in the magic circle you called the Great Holy Grail?"

"Oh, Kotomine would know, wouldn't he? He's a magus tainted by Avenger, just like Sakura. He already knows what's inside the Holy Grail." "Eh…? Kotomine and Sakura are the same…?"

"That's right. This concerns you two. This is about what Zouken's trying to obtain, what's changing Sakura, what's hiding in the Holy Grail, and what's tainting the souls of the heroic spirits. Its class name is Avenger. The heroic spirit that's about to take a living form through the power of the Holy Grail, a successful example of the Third Sorcery."

"…What? What was all that about sorceries not having to do with this? It does concern them."

"No. Avenger's materialization isn't sorcery carried out by the Holy Grail. From the start, it is a heroic spirit with that specific attribute. It can take form within the Holy Grail because it's Avenger. The Holy Grail merely summoned an avenger that can use the Third Sorcery, so it doesn't mean that the Great Holy Grail used the Third Sorcery."

"……? So in short, it's a monster that can materialize? It's someone who can embody the Third Sorcery even if the Great Holy Grail doesn't?"

"Yes. It all started during the third ritual. The first one was a failure. Einzbern was defeated quickly in the second war, and in desperation, they summoned a spirit that specialized in killing."

"They used an old scripture, a foreign folklore they obtained, as catalyst to summon the worst evil possible. They summoned what they shouldn't have summoned to kill all the other Masters, to activate the Great Holy Grail, and to keep all the achievement to themselves. ――――The spirit's name is Angra Manyu. A murderous anti-hero that embodies every curse in this world."

"――――Angra… Manyu?" …Hold on. Angra Manyu is the name of the ancient Persian devil. It's the embodiment of evil, the greatest devil in Zoroastrianism. It fights a nine-thousand-year battle againts Ahura Mazda, protector of human goodness. Zoroastrianism is a story mainly about the battle between these two gods. It's the first religion to come up with the doctrine of duality, the angels and the devil.

But the story contains no hero named Angra Manyu. First of all, how can someone crowned with the name of the king of devils become a heroic spirit?

"That's not possible, Ilya. The Holy Grail can only call on heroic spirits, and you don't need the Holy Grail if you can reproduce phenomena on the divine spirit level. No, first of all, there can't be a heroic spirit with the name Angra Manyu. Even if there was, it would be a nameless evil spirit that left no mark on history. Even if it were summoned, its soul wouldn't be compatible with the Holy Grail."

"…Ilya. What did the Einzberns' Master summon?"

"I said Angra Manyu, Rin. …He was certainly nameless, and not a devil. But a hero with the name Angra Manyu did exist."

"…Yes, the story takes place a long time ago. Insanely long ago, in a very small world. It was a hero that lived in a small, nameless village that practiced Zoroastrianism."

"I don't know how distorted their doctrine was. I don't know what led them to that idea. But they lived cleanly and righteously in accordance with their precepts. People are supposed to value goodness, protect the light, and live virtuous lives. For these people, segregated from the rest of the world, this supplication was absolute. It was probably the only source of human pride that they knew."

"――――Yes. The people in the village earnestly wished for everyone to live in peace. So everyone could be free from malice and live pure, upright lives. They renounced such human concerns as hunger, conflict, love, and hate. They were proud to be worthy of God's blessing."

"But it was impossible. People can't be freed from malice just through clean, righteous living. From the moment we are born, there is evil in us. You must take certain measures if you want to separate evil from yourself. And――――those measures were taken."

"They came up with a way to save not just their small village, but the whole world. It's hard to make everyone do good. But you can prove everyone's goodness. …You just need one person. If one person embodies all the evils of the world, the rest of the people cannot be evil, no matter what. They seriously believed in such a simple, child-like theory."

"And one young man was chosen as a sacrifice. They captured him, carved every cursed word onto his body, forced every sin imaginable upon him, and held him responsible for all evils in the world. That's all. A small world. But an ultimate evil was born in this one complete world."

"The people cursed, scorned, feared, yet adored this man. They believed they were pure and righteous, since all the world's evil was within him. They seriously believed it'd save everyone in the world and created a devil. To demonstrate human goodness, they continuously tortured one man until he went insane. No, they would not allow him to die until he succumbed to old age."

"…The name of the devil that corrupts men. He was given the name Angra Manyu, and was irrationally hated by everyone in the world."

"I don't know if he really did turn into a devil during the process. But everyone in his village believed him to be so, and they treated him accordingly. They hated and feared him, but he was the proof of their goodness. They revered him as the sign of their salvation."

"He was the object of everyone's hate, but he saved people. His existence pardoned everyone of their evil deeds. Though his method was unusual, he still saved people. He became a hero for the villagers."

"And a hero was born. Hated by people, losing his self… Someone who transformed into exactly what they wanted. A helpless sacrifice that came to represent all the world's evil."

"―――That's the anti-hero Angra Manyu. An ordinary person without any special talent that was determined to be all evils of the world. The king of devils that approves of all six billion evils in Zoroastrianism. He's a curse made by a concept of ancient people."

Ilya finishes her story with no sign of bitterness or contempt. …Anti-hero. Kotomine introduced me to the term when the war started.

"…………" …But. If Ilya's story is true, the guy who turned into Angra Manyu is still burdened with all the sins. It's because that's his reason of existence.

A heroic spirit who's had six billion sins pushed onto him. …If a guy like that is summoned, all that'll happen is a big massacre. It'd only be natural for him to hate people, and first of all, everyone around him established him to be evil.

…Angra Manyu. So the man is using Sakura to take revenge on the people… no, to carry out the role people pushed onto him?

"So I understand the story of Avenger… Angra Manyu. But why is he in the Holy Grail? He's just an ordinary person, right? Even if he's given a devil's name and treated like one, he's still just a human. That wouldn't turn him into a monster capable of eating the entire town."

"…Yeah. Angra Manyu is human. He was just an ordinary man, but was forced to become a heroic spirit. So there wasn't any problem, originally."

"…The Einzbern family summoned Angra Manyu in the third war. But the summoned heroic spirit was weak. The anti-hero was defeated in the early stage of the war, and the Holy Grail took him in. The Master of Einzbern grieved how this ordinary human could be a devil that destroys the human world."

"…Yes. The heroic spirit was merely human. A human that cursed the world. A human who everyone wanted to represent their evil. …So he had no power. He was merely constructed by the people around him. But everything reversed the instant he was taken in by the Holy Grail."

"The Holy Grail grants wishes. When defeated, Servants are reduced to raw magical energy and are taken in by the Holy Grail to await their release. They lose their individual personalities and stay in the Holy Grail as an omnipotent power. But Angra Manyu was different. He was a heroic spirit that others wished for. He was intended to be evil, regardless of his personality."

"――――No way. Could he…" "Yes. The Holy Grail grants every wish. He was a mere human, but wasn't treated as one. So he was an embodiment of people's wishes. So―――the instant Angra Manyu was taken in by the Holy Grail, the Holy Grail accepted a wish."

"An existence that should not be. The heroic spirit constructed from people's selfish wishes was finally given flesh within the wish-granting Holy Grail. …Five hundred years under the Makiri and a thousand under the Einzbern are nothing. After all, he's an ideal human that has been wished for since the age of gods, over two thousand years ago."

"That's what that shadow is. It finally obtained form as a heroic spirit. Angra Manyu used Servants' colorless magical energy to embody all evils of the world. Wanting only to be evil. It slowly matured with an ability to curse all six billion people."

"―――Then what? The contents of the Holy Grail have already been tainted by him? The wish the Holy Grail grants is already determined, and the fourth war took place only to store up the magical energy needed to give him form?"

"Yes. I don't know how much Kiritsugu knew about Angra Manyu. But believing the shadow leaking from it to be dangerous, he destroyed the Holy Grail."

"And his course of action was right. No matter what the previous Angra Manyu was, the Angra Manyu that formed inside the Holy Grail is real. It will become the greatest evil in the world, a devil that will kill every human being alive."

"But thanks to Kiritsugu's resolve, Angra Manyu was left unborn within the Great Holy Grail. Kotomine and Sakura received parts of it. Zouken must've known that a Servant was about to be born in the Holy Grail. That's why he implanted a piece of it in Sakura, creating a link between her and that Servant. He made Sakura a Master so that she can control the Servant once it emerges."

"No matter what Avenger is, it's still a Servant. No Servant, no matter how strong, can disobey his Master. That's Zouken's plan. He wants to use Sakura to obtain Angra Manyu."

――――Hold on. Does that mean Sakura has a contract with this Servant, Avenger?

"Are you serious? Even if Sakura controls Angra Manyu that way, she can't resist the taint of the magical energy. She's already changed that much when Angra Manyu is still inside the Holy Grail, so her personality will disappear completely once it comes out. Then being a Master won't matter."

"That's fine. Zouken isn't worried about Sakura's personality. What matters to him is her body and its connection to Angra Manyu."

"He's planning to take over her empty body after her personality disappears. …I don't think you know, but Zouken can take over anyone's body as long as the worm bearing his soul exists. That's how he stayed alive until now. From the start, Sakura was just a body to eventually possess."

――――Then what? The thing possessing Sakura. If what's changing her is a contract with a Servant――――

"Zouken kidnapped me, probably because he didn't want to let Sakura open the gate. He wanted me to take the role of the Holy Grail, allowing him to take over Sakura's body once she became Angra Manyu's Master."

"I guess he plans to take over Angra Manyu in time, since a soul given flesh is a living example of the Third Sorcery. It's like speaking ill of a perfect God because you're a human with desires."

"……The definition of God's creation… It's something that's made from people's wishes, but not affected by people's intentions. Well, I bet any god will turn into a devil if it reflects Zouken's personality. That must be why Kotomine considered him his enemy."

"I get it. That's enough, right, Shirou?" "――――Huh?" Tohsaka's voice brings me back to the present.

"It's not 'huh'. We know our enemy, and we know Zouken's intention. Then we don't even need to talk about the rest."

"――――――――" …We don't even need to talk about the rest, huh? She's right. What's in the Holy Grail. The disaster from ten years ago will be repeated if he comes out.

…No, that's an understatement. He'll kill countless people if we let him be. ―――Yes. Sakura's creation will take many lives.

"――――――――" I can't allow that. Then I have to stop it. I have to make whatever sacrifices I can to keep Sakura from being burdened with more deaths. ――――Stop Angra Manyu. I have to end the war before he emerges from the Holy Grail.

"I guess you understand now. We have to fight and win. And there are only two ways to do this. Kill Sakura, Angra Manyu's Master, before he comes out. Or destroy the Great Holy Grail before he comes out."

"…The former's the more certain method. Sakura and Zouken will surely get in our way if we try to destroy the Great Holy Grail. We won't be able to do it without defeating them. So it's easiest to defeat Sakura."

"Yeah. Fight Sakura and separate her from Angra Manyu. That's the easiest way, and the plan's easy to understand." "Oh. You have no problem with going after her?"

"…That's the only thing we can manage right now. If Angra Manyu is what Ilya says it is, it's not something humans can match. We lose the instant it comes out. Then we have to take the quickest and surest route. More importantly, Tohsaka. I don't mind fighting, but do you know where Sakura is?"

"That's not a problem. If Ilya's right, there's only one place the Great Holy Grail can be. Right, Ilya?"

"…Yes, you're right, Rin. Angra Manyu is about to be born, so Zouken is at the Great Holy Grail. The degraded ley line. The origin that was chosen by the three families two hundred years ago. Angra Manyu is being conceived in the large cavern underneath the Ryudou Temple."

"――――Under the Ryudou Temple…" …That's where Sakura is. That's where we'll be heading, the place where the Holy Grail War will end.

"………" I take a deep breath and allow my tense mind to relax slightly. The cold pendant in my hand settles my thoughts.

"――――――――" Fighting Sakura. Tohsaka isn't lying. It's just that our methods are different. Tohsaka must intend to finish the war by killing Sakura. But I'll end the war by saving Sakura's life―――

"…..!?" My body trembles. The house is beset by pressure, making the air feel like water. And… "Sakura――――!" The instant we realize the pressure's coming from the shadow, we run out into the yard.

――――We go out into the yard. The whole world is covered by the shadow. My entire body is numb with fear.

…The black shadow is standing in front of us. It can crush this house if it wants to. The difference in our power is obvious. It has transfigured to an existence that's unlike anything I've ever seen.

"……………" …The black shadow does nothing. It's not Sakura, but a shadow shaped like her. The real Sakura is under the Ryudou Temple. The thing in front of us is a virtual image.

"――――Hmph. So you're sending the shadow instead of showing up yourself? You've gotten arrogant during the short time you've been away." "………" Does she not hear Tohsaka's provocation, or does she not hear anything at all? Wavering in the moonlight, her shadow looks lonely.

"………" Her eyes look at me. 'Senpai'. Weak, as if she'll reply like always if I just reach out.

"――――――――" But I don't. What I must do is determined. I can't say anything to her, as doing so would weaken my resolve.

She looks away. After hanging her head for a moment, "Did you hear the whole story from Ilyasviel, Nee-san?" She confronts Tohsaka with a cold voice.

"Yeah. I heard about what's possessing you and the abilities of what's about to be born from the Holy Grail. So, Sakura. Let me ask. Do you have any intention of cutting ties with Angra Manyu?" Tohsaka's voice is the same. Completely cold, showing no concern for Sakura.

"No. I said the weak me disappeared, didn't I? I was able to obtain this power, so I don't intend to let it go. I couldn't even if I wanted to. …This is how Matou Sakura has to live from now on."

"I see. Then one more thing. How complete is the Servant you're boasting about? Ilya said it's coming out soon, but what do you have to say as the mother? Is it already born?"

"…Of course not. When that happens, this town will be consumed in a second. I can't allow that yet. Senpai's still here. So I won't let him out as long as I still exist."

"Oh, so there's no reason for us to hurry, huh? So you're going to keep Angra Manyu inside as long as Shirou's with me? That's good, Shirou. Sakura seems well enough."

"…Don't be ridiculous. You should know how much longer I'm going to last. Please run away with Senpai. I won't last long. I don't know when I'll disappear. I might only be able to hold out for one night."

"So I'm warning you before that. …Nee-san. Please take Senpai and run far away. Then I can be at peace and take his life with mine."

Sakura says she's going to kill him using her life. Tohsaka trembles a bit. Is that because she believes her, or…

"…Humph. You don't know when you're going to disappear, huh? You're wrong. You just don't know when you'll run out of patience." "――――Nee-san."

"Oh well. I don't know how you're going to kill Angra Manyu, but you can kill yourself without hesitation if I run away with Shirou? You'll kill the Servant within the Holy Grail along with you, right?"

"…Y-Yes. So please run away. I-I don't want you to see me change. It's fine as long as Senpai gets away. So――――please don't come after me anymore, Senpai."

She's desperately begging us. Sakura's shadow can kill us right now, but it asks for salvation by letting us go.

"――――――――" But I can't answer her wish. I can't leave Sakura and run away, nor can I let her kill herself along with Angra Manyu. And… "We'll go there. We'll go and kill you for sure." Tohsaka breaks away from her sister.

"Wha―――――――" "What did you expect? As Tohsaka's magus, I can't ignore you. And I can't believe you even if you say you'll kill yourself. Don't you get it, Sakura? You're not making any sense. You want to kill, but you're telling me to run. Geez, you're trying to act like a good girl because you're in front of Shirou."

"…What?" "Oh, you can make a good face. That's what you should've done from the start. So, is that all? Then get lost. You don't have to hurry since we'll go see you right away. Look, Sakura. I'll kill you with my own hands."

Tohsaka declares with voice that even contains kindness. …The shadow wavers. After freezing on the spot like a statue… "Yes――――I'll be waiting for you, Nee-san." …It smiles violently and disappears.

The shadow covering the house recedes. Tohsaka and I are the only ones remaining in the yard.

――――I get dizzy. I thought I was concentrating, but it seems I was agitated after seeing Sakura's image. …It seems Sakura's not the only one that's running out of time.

"――――Shirou. You heard what Sakura said. But what're you going to do? If you want to run, I won't stop you. But if you do, that'll be after you project the gem sword."

"You don't have to confirm with me. I won't run away, and I'll somehow project the gem sword. We're cooperating, right? Then I'll follow up by doing things you can't do."

"…I see. That's good, but do you understand, Shirou? Coming with me means killing Sakura. The same goes for the gem sword. You're going to prepare a weapon that I will use to kill her."

"…Yeah. The gem sword thing is contradictory. But Sakura's out of our control, and projecting the sword is a promise we made. If projecting the sword means we can match Sakura's shadow, then it's something we definitely need to do."

"Oh. So…" "Yeah, I'm taking the opposite measure. I'm going to end this war by saving Sakura. I've decided to be Sakura's ally."

"Even if letting Sakura live means killing everyone else?" "We don't know that yet. There should be a way to save Sakura and not let there be any more victims."

"…I don't know about that. Sakura's already killed many people. Is it justice for you to save such a person, Shirou?" ――――Her inquiry is decisive. A sin I can't talk myself out of. She puts it into words, and I finally…

"―――That's right. I'll protect her even if she's not human. I'm going to protect her from everything, including the part of her that wants to kill me. That's all I want to do. That's what it means to be someone's ally, right?" …I'm able to tell her what I think.

"……Geez. You really can just come out and say it." I nod back, feeling no shame.

"……I see. Well, I knew there was no point in arguing with you, but I didn't think it'd go this far. You beat me." "Huh? Where are you going, Tohsaka?"

"I have to go prepare for the battle. Sakura gave us that warning because she really doesn't have time to spare. So I have to get ready quickly." "That's true, but we were talking――――"

"We're done talking now. In short, you're going to save Sakura as long as you're still alive, right? …Hmph. Fine, do as you want. I'm not going to say anything now. Go struggle to your heart's content."

"Hm…?" Where did her nervousness go? Tohsaka looks angry now.

"But don't get me wrong. This is in exchange for making the gem sword. I'll leave you in charge of Sakura as long as you're trying. I won't do anything until you can't move anymore. …That's good, right? You might be able to save Sakura, if you try hard enough."

Tohsaka leaves with that. "………" The uneasiness in my chest goes away. We're thinking oppositely. But Tohsaka still wants to save Sakura.

Then I can entrust her with Sakura. We both like her. Then Tohsaka should be able to save Sakura.

It's ten o'clock. Tohsaka said we'll prepare for battle and go to the Ryudou Temple before the date changes.

"Well. I'm going to have you project the gem sword, but how do you feel? Can you project it while suppressing Archer's arm?" "Oh――――" …I see. Ilya hasn't told her how I took the Shroud off. "Well――――um, yeah…"

"Oh, that's good to hear. Then the rest is up to Shirou and Ilya. The Azoth Sword, which is as close as we're going to get to the gem sword, Shirou's projection, and Ilya's support. We may not be able to replicate it, but if all goes well, we should at least be able to reproduce half of its original ability." Tohsaka hands me a dagger.

"………" The dagger is a ritualistic equipment. It might be something she favors, as it looks well-used. Not only that. Even an amateur like me can feel how much magical energy is stored in this thing.

…Well, this is nothing compared to the shadow, but it's still a hundred times more than my magical energy capacity.

"…This is amazing. You had something like this up your sleeve?" "Of course it's amazing. I used all the jewels I had, which contained ten years worth of magical energy."

Tohsaka sulks, like she didn't want to use them. …She seems generous, but maybe she's really stingy when it comes to money. Well, with that aside…

"Hmm, but is that really okay, Tohsaka? You don't have any left for yourself if you've used everything you have, right? I know you're still not fully recovered, so can you still fight?"

"Well, I can manage to move around. But I haven't healed to the point where I can use magic again." "Wait――――then…"

"You don't need to worry. It's fine as long as you can project the gem sword. The sword has absurd powers said to have even stopped the 'falling moon'."

"…?" I don't get what she means, but Tohsaka has great confidence. …Well, if she's so sure of herself, I won't worry either.

"Let's start, Shirou. It'll take a long time to project that sword, even for you. We have to get started or the date'll change."

"You're right. Then let's go back to your room. If we're not someplace where you can relax, our chances are lower." Tohsaka heads back to the living room.

"Oh, hold on. I'll do the projection in the shed. And I want to be alone with Ilya while I do it, so can you wait in your room?" "Why? I have to be there in case something happens, right?"

"There's no need. It's a bother if you're here. Shirou gets distracted easily, so we might fail if you fall and get his attention when it counts the most."

"…Hey, that's rude, Ilya." Tohsaka complains with a sour look. She's not arguing back, maybe because she can't deny the possibility that she'll screw up at a crucial moment.

"…All right. Then I'll wait outside the shed. Is that all right, Ilya?" "…I guess it can't be helped. That's the biggest compromise we can make."

"Rin. Don't come in until I tell you to if you want us to reproduce the gem sword. I'll call for you if something's about to happen, so please stay outside until then no matter what."

"You're being persistent. I said I understand. I won't come in even if I hear Shirou scream." "………" It doesn't really matter, but I wish she'd picked a better example.

"Well, let's go, Shirou." Ilya goes into the shed. I decide to ask Tohsaka something before I follow.

"Tohsaka. Can I have this sword?" "…? You're going to be projecting using that. The Azoth Sword will go away once the gem sword's projected."

"Yeah. You can have the gem sword, so can I have this in return? See, this might break if I fail. I can't concentrate, thinking how you might get angry if I break this."

"…Geez. Fine. You can have the Azoth Sword if that'll help you relax." "Thanks. Then I'm going to go do my best."

…I shut the door. I can't let Tohsaka see this. I'm sure she won't stop me now, but she'll definitely feel responsible. If I'm to smooth this out, I have to tell her I used it after everything is over and get retroactive approval.

"…Are you ready, Shirou? You've released Archer's arm already, so I don't need to explain the steps, right?" I nod. Ilya tells me to sit down, and I do so.

"But Ilya. I can only project what I've seen or what Archer made. I have no information on the gem sword. I can't project it even if we have a blueprint and a dagger that's just like it."

"I know. I'll first have you come inside my memory. I haven't seen it either, but the record of the gem sword is in me. Tohsaka's great master was there when the Great Holy Grail was made. I'm sure the sword was there at that time."

"Whoa, Ilya――――" "Just close your eyes. I'll keep your body here and send your mind somewhere else. We did this before. I'll send your vision into my memory, so analyze the gem sword there. …I'll release your left arm once you're inside. You'll be hit by the pressure of two hundred years and the invasion from your arm at the same time. Brace yourself and try to finish the projection as fast as you can."

"――――――――" Ilya's voice is trembling. …Her arms are as well.

"…I'll take you to the gem sword, so you just need to hold your breath. Clear your mind and don't look at anything unnecessary. You just need to draw out his Zelretch――――"

――――Space splits. Is it because all my senses are within her memory… or is it because my left arm is released?

There's no pain, the cognition of pain doesn't matter now, I'm swallowed by my injury, I'm falling into a swirling maelstrom of pain.

I don't know where I am.

I don't know who I am.

I don't know what it means.

It's a large circuit. Multi-layered Crests are carved on a bare rock that's over fifty meters in radius. It's like a large observatory, rotating by itself in the deserts of Arizona.

The circuits cover the area in many layers. The geometric figures turn in place. A white girl stands in the center of the beautiful spider's nest.

Her name is Lizleihi. Lizleihi Justizia von Einzbern. She's the magus that devised the Holy Grail War. The great magus who was called the winter saint. A magus accompanied by Makiri Zouken and Tohsaka Nagato.

The Great Holy Grail is activated. Justizia becomes the key reenacting the ancient sorcery. Yes. The Holy Grail is just a Holy Grail without her. Her will is needed for Heavens Feel. The old man knows as well as Makiri and Tohsaka do that the Holy Grail is a mere wishbringer.

――――My vision narrows. The world expands. I concentrated on something needless. I did, so my body was ripped in half.

The world is too big for this small body. I'll eventually see nothing. The process behind this two-hundred-year-old ritual doesn't matter. There's only one thing I need to look at. I concentrate on the man standing in front of the Great Holy Grail. I concentrate on the dagger in his hand――――

――――That's the original. A ritual dagger with a jeweled blade. The kaleidoscopic gleam sears through my eyes and into my brain.

"――――――――, ――――――――"

I understand the instant I see it. I understand that I can't comprehend it. All I can imitate is its shape. I can't analyze its structure and project it.

What kind of a magical theory was it constructed with? The old man's dagger is still a mystery, even if I use Archer's arm and every last piece of knowledge in heroic spirit Emiya. It's alien technology. The old man is embodying general knowledge from a far future, beyond the reach of modern man――――

"――――. ――――……!!"

I'm repelled. I can't be repelled. I can't reach it. Not reaching it is unforgivable.

I reach out. I reach out. I reach out. My eyes are burned out, my brains are burned out. I extend my left arm for dozens of meters, extend, extend, extend――――――――

"Stop! Come back, Shirou…!"

I hear Ilya's voice. But I'm not there yet. I don't even have my fingertips on it. I can't back out now. How can I back out after seeing that miracle, the ultimate one…!?

"Give up…! Do you want to disappear, Shirou!?"

Get there――――

Get there―――――――――

Get there――――――――――――

Get there――――――――――――― ――――――――――――――――――――――― ――――――――――――――――――――――

"Haa, ah…….!!!!!!!!" "Shirou――――!" Did I jump myself, or was I pushed back by something? I'm flying, and I land on my back.

"Ha――――ga, ah――――!" My left arm pain . My tongue my fingers the trembling won't . "Ah――――uwa, ah, ah――――!" . , .

"Stay ! I'll Shroud !" "Haa, guh, ah……….!" A big knife stabs me from the side. It's so uncomfortable that I repel the one wielding it――――

"Oh… Ouch――――" And I realize I just punched Ilya. "……! I-I'm sorry, Ilya, I――――" She pats dust off herself and gets up. …Good. She's not hurt.

"I told you not to look at unnecessary things, you idiot! …Geez, I'll let you off the hook this time since it paid off, but I won't forgive you if you disobey me again!"

She points at my face as she scolds me. …Wait. Feeling something hard in my left hand, I look down.

"――――――――" ……I managed to project it. It's projected, but it doesn't seem like the one I saw. First of all, I don't feel any magical energy in this thing. Tohsaka's Azoth Sword is many times better than this, and this blade wouldn't cut paper.

"Yup. I have a lot to complain about, but thanks for your hard work, Shirou. Your projection was perfect. You showed me a flawless blade works." "Uh――――I don't know, but is this any good? It looks pretty crappy."

"That's fine as is. The sword is an extraordinary demonic sword that can only be used by Schweinorg's lineage. Well, I guess it's fate. Sakura is receiving the protection of the third and Rin's going to try to use the second. It wouldn't end up as mere investigation if the Association were here. Every department would be running to put them on trial." Ilya laughs.

"…Wow. So this dagger is that amazing?" "Yeah. To be more accurate, it's a multi-dimensional refractory phenomenon, Gem Sword Kishua Zelretch Schweinorg. It's called Gem Sword Zelretch, and it's the old magus's favored sword and Tohsaka's heirloom."

"But the sword wasn't passed down the Tohsaka line, just the blueprint. It's an assignment from the sorcerer that the Tohsaka magi must pursue for a long, long time."

"Assignment from a sorcerer… Wait, the great master Tohsaka was talking about is a sorcerer…!?"

"Yeah. But Zelretch is an oddball among the sorcerers in that he still associates himself with this world, so I'm sure he has other apprentices. I don't think Zelretch is in this world, but he might show up once Rin's capable of making the gem sword by herself."

"Hmm……?" He's not in this world, but might appear all of a sudden? Isn't he just a wanderer that likes to travel?

"――――――――" ――――Whoa. I let my guard down. I get dizzy. I clench my right fist, feel the pendant digging into my torn flesh, and keep my consciousness.

"――――, ――――" I steady my breathing so Ilya doesn't notice. My limbs――――I still feel my limbs.

"――――――――" ……Good. I thought I'd lose something if I used projection, but I'm not missing anything yet. My head's still working. The biggest proof is that I can check on my condition. I should be able to use one more projection.

―――No, I have to use it. I have to save Sakura in a way different from Tohsaka. Archer's arm will make it poss-

"So means. In short, the sorcery parallel worlds. So his nickname Kaleidoscope " "――――Tohsaka?" " ? , ?"

"――――――――" I can't understand her. It's not that I can't hear her. She's just speaking in a language I don't understand. She's talking in some strange language and holding something dangerous in her left hand.

…Tohsaka's holding a sword I've never seen before. Never seen before? That can't be. I projected (I think) that sword just now, and my left hand is empty, so it must mean I handed it to Tohsaka.

"Shirou? from . Was the projection ?" "――――――――"

I get a chill. My memory's vague. I can't recall anything. My understanding and the details don't match up.

"Guh――――, ……….!" I clench my right hand. My eyes finally focus in exchange for dripping blood.

"――――Um, Tohsaka." I get up. My limbs are light compared to my disconnected head. They're so light that I think they may be empty inside.

"It's not 'Tohsaka'. Ilya and I will go test it out, so you should rest―――wait, what's with your hand…!"

Tohsaka grabs me. Her speed is surprisingly slow, but… "Eh……? Why do you have this…?" My mind isn't working, and she has ahold of my hand before I know it.

Tohsaka's looking at the pendant in my palm with astonishment. I don't know why she's surprised. But I have this because…

"Shirou. Why do you have this? And are you crazy, holding it this tight?" "Why? I just have it as a charm. This is…"

…Something I picked up. Why did I pick it up? It's something I shouldn't forget, but I can't remember. But the stranger in my left arm knows what it is better than I do.

"……Um, it's something important. I have to have it on me until the end."

Words that are not mine come out of my mouth. "……… Shirou. I also have that pendant."

"Eh?" Tohsaka takes out a pendant from her pocket. It's certainly the same. It's a simple design for a jewel user like Tohsaka, but I think something simple like this brings out her beauty.

"Wow, they're the same." I nod back.

"No. Mine's empty, but there's still a bit left in yours. It's not significant, but I'm sure there's a meaning behind the usage of it." "…?"

"Keep that. It might come in handy." Tohsaka puts her pendant away and walks off with Ilya.

"Hey, Tohsaka. Where are you going?" "I need to talk to Ilya. I'll let you rest for an hour, so stay in your room. And I'll get seriously mad if you don't treat your hand right away."

"――――――――" Tohsaka's bad temper borders on outright hostility. She takes Ilya, who follows her without a word.

"………Oh well. I guess I'm saved." I have to find out what happened to me before I start moving around. I'm still conscious. I can figure out the situation if I don't let my guard down.

"……So. Why am I here?" I think about why I'm here in the shed. Sakura's warning. Sakura warned us to run, and Tohsaka said she'd fight. Then―――that's right, we have to go beneath the Ryudou Temple.

"So… Why am I lying in the shed when we have to go to the Ryudou Temple?" I'm on the ground. I realize that I'm inside the shed. My right hand is hurting. Thanks to that, my consciousness is back.

"―――――Damn. Pull yourself together, idiot." I get up and check how my limbs are doing. …Don't lose spirit. I'm certainly losing something at hopeless speed. But it's not fatal. At the very least, I should be able to fight normally until the day dawns.

"You look terrible. Do you recognize me, Shirou?"

"――――!" I quickly turn around. …In the back of the shed… Shrouded in darkness just beyond the moon's reach, there stands a Servant in black.

"Rider. You…"

"Yes. I was watching you. My mission is to protect you, but Sakura is my Master. So long as she is the one trying to harm you, I can offer you no assistance. That is why I did not help you in the forest. It was your own fault to be attacked by Berserker."

Rider explains lightly. …She speaks without emotion. It seems she was waiting for me to be alone.

"…I see. Then you came here to…" "To kill you. You and your allies are Sakura's enemies. Thus, I cannot let you meet her." Rider's holding a nail-like dagger. …I feel her hostility creeping up my spine.

"――――――――!" Rider's serious. I――――

[tomcat-acaphe]

I meant for music but you can also list Tumblrs if you like!

Okay, I don't know many Tumblr blogs, just search through the tags and see any ones that pop up a lot I guess.

Okay, as for songs: 1. Say a genre and I'll find your taste based on that,

And 2. Here's a list of my personal faves:

-Greener

-Welcome to Tally Hall

-Banana Man

-Haiku

-The Whole World And You

-Mucka Blucka

-&

-Cannibal

-A Lady

-Turn The Lights Off

-Crazy F***

-Rotary Park

-Hoodz 'n the Woodz

-The Apologue Of Hot Rod Duncan

-Actual Cannibal Shia Labeouf

-Introduction To The Snow

-White Ball

-Murders

-The Mind Electric

-Labyrinth

-Dream Sweet in Sea Major

I haven't listened to every album/single yet, (only MMMM, Good and Evil, JHJH and Hpt2) as I wanna save them for later. Tally Hall is great and I don't wanna listen to everything in one go and have the magic be over too quick. But yeah, GO LISTEN TO ALL OF IT. Oh yeah! Also watch Tally Hall Internet Show and Boralogues. (I prefer internet show personally but boralogues are also pretty funny.)

[darlingmurdock]

Takes place after season five events but not really canon to anything. No baby plot. Klaroline were in secret relationship. CAROLINE IS A HETERIC!!

{ I do not own the the vampire dairies characters, that goes back to the original creators. This plot is my own and done all by me. } EXPLICIT CONTENT

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

THE REMEMBERING. The fact that it has been less than ten minutes of our beloved couple being separated yet here they are remembering all of the moments as couples that they spent here at this same location they are in.

Here are the couple sitting on top of a rooftop in silence. Trying to process what is currently happening to them. Feeling betrayed, hurt, confused, angry. Caroline glances up at her boyfriend or now ex-boyfriend with watery eyes.

"You aren't being fair, you know that."

Klaus did not say anything but stayed quiet. Unsure what to say at this current moment. He knows he isn't being fair, he is not giving her a choice but he just knows it is for the best.

Because she is the one person that he could not lose. She is his home as he is her home and he is ruining that. With deep breath he spared her a quick look and his heart broke at the sight of her trying to hold together.

"I do."

Caroline is not one for expressing emotions, she has never been good at it. Because if she is too emotional then she feels that she is weak which is something she hates. But her relationship has taught her that it is okay for her to allow herself to feel.

She was always one of those little girls that believe in magical fairy tale stories of falling in love, finding herself a prince charming but here she is trying not to break down that her relationship, her own version of a fairy-take is now over. Caroline felt a tear come out of her eye. She really did not want to let him go.

Klaus has lost many things in his life but him choosing to let go of Caroline was killing him. He needs to let her go. She will never be safe with him. Klaus has lost many people because of him and he will not risk losing her because he did not make the right choice of letting go. He wanted to be selfish and just lock her in a box all for himself but he knows that she has a life to live and is not with him. He will not forgive himself if she gets hurt again because of him.

Klaus got hold of her hand as he felt her give him a big squeeze. Klaus grabbed hold of her chin and moved it for her to face him, he almost broke down seeing her in so much pain. He put his forehead against hers, just wanting to feel her body heat against his. He let out such soft whispers that were barely hearable, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut as she heard him say sorry. Caroline just wanted to fight his stubborn ass. She opened her eyes and looked straight at his glossy eyes, "I know."

The two of them got up and moved closer to see the city skyline as the bright lights of the tall New York building shine upon them. Where they originally were planning to explore, the city.

The mix of neon lights shine on them as a small cold breeze hits their faces. As each one felt a sudden mix of emotions, Caroline tilted her head to see Klaus looking up at the sky.

"It's not your choice to make."

"I know"

Klaus closed his eyes for a moment as he knew this was the end of their story. He opened his eyes and saw the tears falling down Caroline’s eyes. He quickly went to her and wiped her tears away, "Please don't cry for me. I'm not worth it."

"It's not your choice to make."

Caroline's lips start to tremble as she is not trying to sob right now. Klaus grabbed her and gave her a big hug as he held her. He did not say anything but she knew he was sorry. She just held on to him not wanting to ever let go.

The ex-couple spent the rest of the night holding onto one another for one last time before they went their separate ways. They said nothing to one another, just having each warmth radiating off one another was enough.

Because they were each other's motive, in this long and dreadful immortal life, they were the sweetness part to each other.

“However long it takes.”

“However long it takes.”

TWO YEARS LATER—

Caroline laid on the floor as her body was in pain. Glancing down at the puddle of blood that surround her intoxicating away as the red seem to be the only form of light in the room. She hissed in pain as the spelled chains kept her restricted, her eyes fell upon the chain as light red swirl around the chain as she ripped them off.

Caroline heard light footsteps as she rolled her eyes at the upcoming people. The room shone bright as a door was opened, two people glanced at her as she waved at them. Before they could say anything she flash to them as she ripped their hearts with red splattering all over her.

She huffed out, so much for a fun night out with Bonnie. She sighs as she glances down at her outfit that was ruined at least her shoes were okay. She was wearing a silk baby blue crop top that showcased her ivory skin while teasing her breast. She paired the top with a mini black skirt and her hair was loose but she had red splatter on her golden locks. She sighs as she walks out the room.

She found herself front with someone, she muttered a spell under her breath, as the person fell to the ground groaning out of pain. Caroline went down to them as tug her hand into their heart, “You ruined girl’s night.”

The split unfortunate yells had shuddered as she ripped their heart out, the empty vacuum of blood that poisoned her skin like an additional rigid coat of skin that is slowly strangling her into.

She heard light footsteps coming her way. She winced out of pain as her breath hitch as the burning sensation was creeping upon her. Before she reacted she found her back against the wall with hand around her throat.

She saw a man with dark hair as he pressed harder, stopping her chain of breaths. The man squeezed it harder, Caroline choked it out, “Just because I like hard doesn’t mean we need to get so kinky, take me out on date first.”

The man let out a hearty chuckle, “You would like that, huh?”

Caroline tried to move her hand around her throat that made harder for her to mutter the spells and the wounds around her made it hard for her to break free from the hold. The man gently placed his hand on her leg soothing it, “But unfortunately that won’t be the case. Although you are such piece of candy.”

Caroline could not help but roll her eyes at the man. The dark-haired man hitch his hand higher on her leg but before he could even reach her mid thigh, he was pulled away from her, as the man dropped to floor with blood coming out of him. The man fell down as his life drain away, with his blood soaking Caroline.

Caroline shifted her gaze up to see the original hybrid that left an aching tug in her heart. But she could not focus on anything besides the way the ruby color splatter on his skin, as he gently moved to meet her eyes, gazing at her as his eyes darkened a bit, “Hello, Love.”

Caroline rolled her eyes as walked past him. Klaus caught up to her as he stopped her, “What, not even a hello, after two years?”

“Well I’m not the one that ended it,” she nudged his shoulder, walking down the hall trying to get out of wherever she was. Klaus winced at her harsh tone but he deserves it to be real, even if part of them ended things in an okay manner, he still had hurt her, something he never ever intended to do.

Klaus ran as he grabbed her arm again, Caroline blinked her thoughts away and looked down at her skirt, she moved her eyes back to Klaus and let out sighs, "Hi."

Klaus could not help but chuckle at her awkwardness, "Hi."

Klaus observed Caroline as her curly blonde hair is longer now and her eyes displayed a sudden tiredness, obviously pointing out that she hasn't gotten much sleep in awhile.

He shifted his gaze, not helping but paused for a split second at her ivory breast tainting with red, slightly teasing anyone. He clenched his jaw at the thought she was displayed for everyone to see, which he did not care as long as everyone knew she belonged to him.

Caroline felt like her 16 year old self again, trying to talk to a boy for the first time. She always spoke her mind but when it came with Klaus he made her feel on top of the world but also he set her nerves like crazy. Even when they got together she would always get butterflies, even though she doesn't want to admit it. But she can't help feeling a little resentment after their break-up. But she pushed those feelings down.

In a weird way they were each other’s motive, a reason that they each pushed each other to the limit. Caroline gave him her famous miss mystic falls smile, "I’m go now.”

Klaus has smirked plaster on him, “Not even a thank you for saving you sweetheart?”

“I had it handled,” muttered Caroline as she shook him off but he wouldn’t let her leave. Klaus tilted his head with a teasing smile on him, “Oh, really?”

Caroline chuckled at him, “Yes, plus we both know I love it when it gets messy.”

Caroline walked away with a slight smirk on her face. She refuses to let him win. Klaus stood still with a clenched jaw as she walked away. She was provoking him, his little vixen. He had smirk on him as he was flashing to her, and flashing both of them to a hotel room nearby.

Caroline huffs as Klaus sets her down in the hotel room. She glared at him with a hand on her hip, “What is your problem?”

“I just want to talk sweetheart,” shrugged Klaus as he displayed a dimple smile, acting all innocent. Caroline bit her tongue knowing his little act. She nodded, “Well, I don’t want to. What are you even doing here?”

Klaus shook his head, taking a step forward to her, “Business. I was curious to hear about a blonde vamp witch, which I instantly knew was my blonde.”

“Not yours,” mumbled Caroline ignoring the butterflies in her stomach at his stupid possessive claim on her. Klaus had a smug look on him seeing her all adorable and flushed in front of him.

His eyes fell upon the blood dripping on her skin, his gaze darkened, “What about you? Special night to be dressed like that?”

Caroline scoffed as she met his gaze and noticed his eyes had flint of gold in them. She sighs but nodded to his question, “Yes. I had goals for the night but that got ruined.”

Klaus clenched his jaw knowing what she was implying. He could not help but snarled at her, “You are mine, Caroline. No one is allowed to touch you but me.”

Caroline raised her brow at him, refusing to submit to his stupid claim. She sighs, turning around to exit the room but she found herself trapped against the wall. Klaus’s eyes shined bright as his raspy voice filled her, “Come on love. Don’t forget your place, which is right by my side.”

Caroline bit her tongue, as goosebumps rose on her skin as his hand caresses her leg, hitching higher and higher. But she was stubborn and refused to let him get away with his freakin game. She tilted her head as he did not remove his gaze from her.

Caroline offered a fake smile, “We aren’t together anymore,” she leans closer as her lips brushed slightly across his ear, “I can fuck whoever I want. Whenever I want, wherever I want.”

Caroline heard a slight growl as she felt his arms wrap around her waist in a possessive way. Klaus placed one of his hands on her lower back as he caressed her, “That is where you are wrong, love. You're mine. Do I need to remind you?”

“We aren’t together anymore,” huffed Caroline at his touch that always made her melt into his body. The tension in the room had grown so suffocating.

Klaus offered her smile, “Do I need to punish you, love? I made sure you remember that you belong to me and I don’t care that ‘we aren’t together’ as you put it you will always be mine.”

Caroline ignored the hit of arousal that hit her body like the wash of a hurricane. She moved her hands to his head, slightly brushing his curls, “A bit desperate don’t you think?”

“For you and only you,” mumbled Klaus. He tugged her closer as her chest pressed against his. They stared at each other for what seemed like eternity until their lips met. Who made the first move was a blur to the both of them as all they could focus on was the way their lips molded perfectly, like the softness of clay.

Klaus pulled away nuzzling his head into her neck, lightly biting her neck as she pressed her hips closer to him, causing him to let out a soft groan. Caroline tugged his hair back so she could place her lips on him again, missing the feeling of them. Klaus shifted his hand higher and higher brushing his fingers lighting through her center, feeling the wetness soak through her panties.

Klaus bit her lip, as Caroline gasped feeling all heated. But she snapped out of it as she felt him grow hard under her. She gasped as she tried to push him off, “You left.”

Klaus gripped her tightly which caused Caroline to moan out of pain but they both knew she was a rough type of girl. He placed his lips on her neck, his fangs slightly puncturing her neck, “I know, let me make it up to you.”

Caroline felt herself clench over nothing as she felt the wetness soak through her. She ran her hand across his face as they were still covered in the blood of their victims. She gently brushed her finger across his neck enjoying the light shiver to her touch.

She glanced down at her finger seeing the specks of blood as she placed in her mouth sucking the blood off, her gaze never leaving his as his little wolf wanted to come out and play. Caroline smiled at him as brushed the blood off between her breasts and offered to him.

Klaus could not help but have a slight smile on him for his cheeky vixen. He accepted her offer as he licked the blood off her finger, growling at the smell of her arousal hit him. Caroline gazed at him as they both rushed their lips to meet once again, he placed his hands under her ass, pulling her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He placed his lips against her neck, his human teeth bugging into her neck as she rolled her hips pressed against his erection, trying to find some form of friction. Klaus moved his hand under her skirt as he pressed his fingers through her damped panties. Klaus ripped her panties off, Caroline gasped at the sudden cold air hitting her heated center.

Before she could even scold him, Klaus plunged his finger inside her of her, he let out groan at her wetness and tightness. Caroline let out a moan as he drove his fingers into her core in fanatic speed, he felt the ache in his gums as he could not help but press his lips between her neck once again.

Caroline rolled her head back, giving him more access as she sighs in relief feeling the slight pain that entered her as he drank from her. She rolled her hips, building up a tight sensation as he plunged his finger harder. Caroline let out a strangled moan, “Please.”

Klaus ignored her as he drank from her. Her blood was the taste of honey, summer, it was so sweet and light. He felt himself addicted to the sweet course of blood. He pressed his thumb against her sensitive bud, as she cried out. He did not stop as he drove his fingers into her heated core, with fangs punctured in her delicate soft skin.

Caroline frantically rolled her hips to the speed of his fingers as she cried out at the pressure building up. Is like he felt that she was closed as he pulled his fingers back and she whimpered at the lost contact. Klaus pulled away from her neck as he set her down to her feet, pressing his finger into his mouth groaning of how delicious she was.

Caroline gazed at him, as she panted wanting more. Klaus gave her access to his neck as she lightly tiptoped pressing her fangs into him, as the champagne-like blood streamed into her tongue. She sighs forgetting how good his blood tasted. She pulled back as they stared at each other. She pressed her forehead against his, “You didn’t let me cum, asshole.”

Klaus grinned at her, very much missing her fiery attitude. He gently removed her top, that let her breast spill out, he groaned at that sight. He swiftly licked her left nipple as he caressed the other one, Caroline let out a sigh of pleasure. He moved them to the bed where he sat down and she sat between his legs, rolling her hips against him.

“Then let’s fix that,” mumbled Klaus as he placed his hands on her waist as she tugged his shirt up pulling it away. Her hand lightly touched his chest, as he brought her closer as her tight nipples pressed against his chest.

Caroline felt herself get wetter as her soak centered, damped his jeans. Klaus moved her hips as she rolled her hips to his rhyme, her heated center finding friction between his damped jeans. He bounced his leg that caused a a higher pleasure that coursed through her body.

Klaus brushed his fingers at her heated center groan of her wetness, “You’re so wet. For me and only me.”

Caroline could not help but nodded to his claim, wanting to find some form of relief, “Please, Klaus.”

Klaus wanted to taunt her longer but he could not control himself anymore, he turned them around, removing her skirt out of the way, as he buckled his jeans, removing them. He moved above her as his tip brushed lightly her sensitive center, before he swift in one motion.

Both moaning and grunting of them being connected. Klaus glanced down as he pressed a kiss on her cheek, “Okay?”

“Okay,” confirmed Caroline as she raised her lips to meet him again. He slowly moved inside of her, slowly speeding up, he bit her lip, “You’re so tight.”

Caroline closed her eyes at the sudden pleasure in her as he moved in her like never before, with her body responding to his touch. She gasped as he bit her neck lightly, she cried out his name, “Klaus.”

“Caroline,” grunted Klaus, feeling her walls clenched around him. He felt her light breaths across him as he gazed down to see her eyes opened, as he moved into her in a primal way. Enjoying the way she arch her back, the light bounce of her breast, but most of all her moans that were music to his ears.

He pinned her arms back as he pounded into her, she wrapped her legs around his waist as she was so close. Klaus bit her ear, “You belong to me, don’t you ever forget that.”

Caroline nodded as she bit out, “You belong to me as well.”

Klaus increased his speed, she cried as he hit her sensitive spot, her thigh squeezing his waist, her wall clenching around him. He continued his speed, his breath hitching at her tightness, hitting her sweet spot, until a wave of pleasure hit her, “Klaus.”

Caroline let out a strangled moan as he pushed through her sensitivity as he pounded into her, harder than before. Klaus groaned as he spilled inside of her as his raspy voice hit her, making her more wet, “Caroline.”

They both panted as Klaus laid on his back pulling her closer to him. Each coming down from their high as they let the silence consumed the air. Caroline gently buried her head to his chest, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” mumbled Klaus as he kissed the top of her head. They obviously had a lot to talk about but they could do that later. As right now, they are together and that is all that matters.

Klaus bit his lip as he brushed her hair away from her face, seeing her eyes flutter to him. He really missed waking up to seeing this everyday. Klaus brushed his fingers across her face, “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” mumbled Caroline, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. She sighs moving closer to him, if it were possible, “However long it takes, right?”

“However long it takes,” nodded Klaus. He brought his lips to hers, as they melt at the touch of their lips meeting, it felt so incredible each time. Caroline pulled away as she snuggled onto him, with a teasing smile on her, “You plan on going on murder spree pretty soon, huh?”

“Of course, love. I need to find out who else wants my blonde witch,” Klaus nodded in confirmation. Caroline tilted her head, “You mean vampy-witch?”

“Same thing, love. You’re still mine, you know that right?”

“Yes, I get it. Calm your possessive self down.”

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 2

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2075

Additional note: In Norway, you are of age at 18.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

"... don't start eating until your brother joins us."

As he pushes himself down the large hallway leading to the kitchen, Ivar can hear Lagertha's assertive voice. He knows exactly who she's talking to and his suspicions are confirmed as soon as he enters the room, as a very displeased and apparently famished Hvitserk looks at him with irritation before letting out a muffled, "it's 'bout time."

"Sorry, I must have dozed off." Shrugging, Ivar wheels up to the kitchen table, the smell of pizza tickling his nostrils. He must be hungrier than he thought.

"You look like Hel." Sigurd sneers in greeting.

Ivar, without bothering to look up, just tilts his head and hisses through clenched teeth, "coming from you, dear brother, I take that as a compliment."

He can feel Lagertha's gaze upon him and when he turns his head toward her, she is staring at him, the worry obvious in her eyes.

"I wouldn’t have put it exactly like that but Sigurd isn't wrong." She crosses the room and leans over, her brow furrowed. "You look exhausted, sweetie, what's going on?"

Ivar almost wants to laugh. He looks exhausted? No kidding? Yeah, guess what? That's what two sleepless nights in a row usually do to you. At least that's what they did to him. What you did to him, haunting his nights and even haunting his dreams, waking him up with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, the few times he managed to fall asleep. At least, he'd made up his mind early this morning. Hopefully, now that the decision has been made, he'll sleep better. Saturday night, he'll see you again. His heart is racing at the thought and he inhales deeply, trying to calm down.

Unsurprisingly persistent, Lagertha asks again as she places her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly, "Ivar, are you all right?"

He wishes he could just ignore his stepmom but knows she won't let it rest. Unwilling to admit that he owes his restless nights to a girl - to you - he decides to keep his answer vague. "So-so," he mumbles, slightly rocking his right hand.

"You're in pain? Do you need more meds? I could run to the drugstore really quick."

For once, he doesn't resent Ubbe for his well-meant yet patronizing kindness, nor for the pitying look he gives him. Actually, he silently thanks him for the good diversion. As long as his brothers and Lagertha believe that it's his legs that bother him, keeping him awake, his secret - you - will be safe.

Faking a small, sheepish smile, Ivar shakes his head. "Thanks bro, but that's okay, I have everything I need. Guess I should just double-up the tramadol tonight." He winces for good measure, knowing fully well he won't even need a single dose. The pain in his legs today is barely at four, nothing he can't handle.

Once the meal is almost over – which in plain English means that everyone but Hvitserk has finished eating, but thanks to Lagertha principle 'no one leaves the table until everyone has finished, boys', they're all stuck here – Ivar decides it's time to break the news.

"I'm gonna go to the party."

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the kitchen falls quiet. Even Hvitserk stops chewing, putting his last slice of pizza back on his plate.

Not knowing what to do with the silence, and feeling a little awkward, Ivar explains further, a hand on his neck, "the midsummer party, I mean. Harald's party."

"We heard you just fine, sweetie." Lagertha is the first to pull herself together, even though the disbelief is clear in her voice. As Ivar looks up, his brothers are staring at him, slack-jawed, bewildered, probably wondering what's got into their baby brother.

"Let me get this straight." With widened eyes, Ubbe starts running both hands through his hair, "you are considering attending Harald's party, right? That's... That's what you said?"

"Yep." Ivar shrugs as if it was no big deal. Who is he kidding? Of course, it is! Attending the party is a fucking huge deal for him. There's no way in Hel he'll admit it, though. Not in front of his brothers. No fucking way!

"I'm not sure I understand..." Ubbe sounds cautious and it infuriates Ivar to no end.

"What part of 'I'm gonna go to the party' don't you get, brother? Huh? Too many big words for you?" He wants to keep going but when Lagertha clears her throat and gives him a stern look, he faintly raises an apologetic hand while muttering under his breath, "okay, okay, I'll stop."

Heaving a sigh, he shrugs once more. "Seriously, you don't all have to look so surprised. I just want to go to Harald's party. It's really not that big of a deal."

"But you never wanted to, sweetie. Why now?" Lagertha's eyes are wide open and there's a frown on her forehead as she crosses her arms.

"Why not?" Ivar can't help but raise his voice. "I'm sixteen, Lagertha! Thought I was entitled to a change of heart. Was I wrong?" Pointing a finger successively at each of his brothers, his free hand grabs his push rim, his knuckles white. "The three of you attend every year, why shouldn't I?" Looking directly at Lagetha once again, he asks in a clipped voice, "You're not going to tell me I can't go, are you?"

"Of course not, sweet–" She begins but Ubbe cuts her off.

"Listen Ivar, no one is saying you shouldn't go, not yet at least. As a matter of fact, no one would be more pleased than I if you were willing to go out more. Playing pool, going to the movies, or just having drinks, you know you're always welcome to come along with us. But..." Ubbe groans, rubbing his hands over his face and Ivar stiffens, grinding his teeth, "Harald's party, really? It's not going to work. You know it takes place on the beach, it's not exactly wheelchair-friendly."

Reluctantly taking his eyes off his slice of pizza, Hvitserk jumps in. "Ivar is our brother, if he wants to go, we find a way. That's it - I'll carry him."

Positively surprised, a small smile playing on his lips, Ivar thanks his brother with a nod, glad – and relieved too, because two are always better than one, right? – that Hvitserk, as so often, backs him up. Of all his brothers, he's the only one who sees him first as a sixteen-year-old and not as a cripple.

Ubbe is having none of it though. "Hvitserk, just stay out of this, okay?" He's practically shouting, chin up and chest out. "You don't have a say! I'm the oldest, not you! I don't think it's a good idea for Ivar to attend Harald's party, period."

Hvitserk furrows his brow and for a short moment, Ivar thinks his brother is going to fight back but eventually he lowers his gaze, defeated, before shoving the whole slice of pizza into his mouth. Ivar knows all too well that his brother, who's not the most tenacious of them, hates confrontation, especially with Ubbe.

Unlike him, Ivar is always ready to pick up a fight, even when it's not worth it, even when he is wrong. Today, though, it's definitely worth it.

His nostrils flaring, he smashes his fist down on the table, his face crumpled with anger. "Who do you think you are, Ubbe? You may be the oldest, but you're not my father, okay? So please, just do me a favor, brother, and read my lips." His voice dripping with sarcasm, his bottom lips quivering, Ivar is absolutely livid, "You. Don't. Have. A. Say. Period."

Ubbe is about to retort, his hands clenched into fists but Lagertha raises a hand, shutting him up. "Boys, boys, boys!" Glancing at Ubbe and then at Ivar, she shakes her head, not exactly thrilled with their outburst. "Now, calm down, both of you. Ubbe, Ivar is right. You may be his big brother, you may be an adult, but you're not his father. I know you mean well but as Ivar's guardian, I have the final say." Turning her head toward Ivar, she cracks him a reassuring smile. "We'll talk about this later, okay? Just the two of us."

***

Slamming the door shut, Ivar wheels up right next to his bed and, angling his chair just right, transfers over onto his bed before punching the wall, a roar escaping his lips. Big tears of frustration and anger run down his cheeks as Sigurd's words linger in his mind.

He had been surprised when his less-favorite brother had stayed out of the conversation.

He should have known better.

No sooner had Lagertha, Ubbe and Hvitserk left – she to make a phone call, they to join Margrethe – leaving them to tidy up the kitchen, than Sigurd had lashed out at him with harsh words and eyes full of spite.

"You messed up in the head, huh? It's a fucking beach, Ivar, you do realize your front wheels will get stuck in sand, right? Now tell me, little brother, do you really think we are going to carry your crippled ass around all night? Let me tell you, it's not going to happen! There will be so many better ways for us to spend the night. Girls, you know? Lots of them. Am I going to let you embarrass me and ruin my night? No! Not in a million years. And anyway, why do you even want to go? Get real, Ivar, you don't belong there, you just don't. You're a fucking cripple, a freak, an abnormality. No one wants you there. No one wants to see you. The sooner you accept it the better."

He knows Sigurd was intentionally trying to hurt him. And fuck, he did succeed. Ivar had felt so humiliated that it had brought bile to his throat.

At some point, while Sigurd was spitting his venom, Ivar had grabbed the large knife lying on the table and it took all his self-control not to stab his brother. No doubt his shrink would be proud of him.

Now though in his room, and even if he is boiling with anger, the nagging thought that Sigurd had a point, that he wasn't completely wrong, doesn't leave him. And he can see now that, in his own weird way, Ubbe was trying to protect him. By preventing him from going, his big brother wanted to spare him humiliation, pity, and mockery. Hvitserk, of course, had been willing to help, but let's face it, Sigurd once again was right. Piggy-back riding is not really an option anymore, he is too heavy. Plus, if he's being honest, even if it were still possible, it's the last thing he'd want. The mere thought of you seeing him on Ubbe's or Hvitserk's back makes him nauseous. Which puts him back to square one.

The beach is a problem and a huge one. Wheeling in sand is a no-go. It's just fucking impossible. If he doesn't come up with an idea soon, he's not going to be physically able to attend the party. And that's something he doesn't want to consider.

"I need a fucking genius idea!" He speaks out loud, cracking his knuckles, his eyes squeezed shut.

Fuck.

He just wants to see you. Y/N... Just you. And he won't be able to.

Fuck. Fucking sand! Fucking beach! Fucking legs! Fuck– Stop.

Wait.

What... What did he say?

He needs an idea... A genius idea. Genius. That's it.

A slow smile spreads across his face.

Good thing he knows an authentic genius, right?

Grabbing his phone, he frantically slides his pointer finger on the screen, sighing with relief as he finds the contact he is looking for.

"Hello, Ivar," the man answers after two rings, and his voice brings an even bigger smile to Ivar's lips, "it's very sweet of you to call me."

"Hello to you too, you spindly legged, knock-kneed old fool. There might be something that you can do for me. I want to attend Harald's party. It'll take place on the beach. My brothers won't carry me and I can't really crawl about, can I? I wonder if you could help me, Floki?"

Ivar's godfather lets out a high-pitched chuckle before answering, "I'll figure something out, dear Ivar, I'll figure something out."

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

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[xneens]

thank u, next (ft. loki)

Warnings: angst, swearing, jealousy, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: A new team member in the group shakes things up for the super soldier.

Or: In which Steve casts you aside for a Carter only to regret his decision when he sees you with the God of Mischief.

"Yeet."

Swiveling your chair, you saw the empty pint of ice cream hit garbage can, bouncing off the rim and dropping on the floor with a light thump. You looked at Tony, shaking your head. "You've been hanging out with Peter too much."

"Why, thank you." Tony replied, smirking at you. "So, tell me, you sexy vixen, how do you feel with Thor bringing Loki? You were quiet during the whole argument that almost ended with Barton ripping out his eye."

You shrugged, the heels Tony had bought earlier drawing your attention to your feet. "I'm fine. I don't really care, I mean, I wasn't with you guys when New York happened so I don't really think I get to have an opinion about whether the mind-controlled God of Lies gets a spot in the team."

"You realize your on the team, right? I'm pretty sure your opinion matters especially with the mass murderer joining." Tony replied, accidentally hitting himself with the candy cane in his hands. "I really thought you were going to side with Cap on this one. You always do."

It wasn't a secret that Steve Rogers wasn't completely on board with the plan. That was pushing it; in other words: Steve Rogers despised the plan. If he could kill it, he would've. When Thor had proposed the plan to bring Loki on the team (a punishment from Odin himself)—trying to convince everyone he was "good" now—less than a handful had let him continue speaking. The rest wanted to riot. You had just sat there, a smirk on your face as you watched the six of them fight with each other while Fury shook his head, looking like a disappointed father.

When everyone had came to an agreement on Loki's trial period, there had been pages of rules on what he was restricted on doing including magic and stabbing. Of course, it was very specific so even the God of Mischief couldn't find a loophole. Maybe he could if he tried, which he probably will.

Clicking your tongue, you shrugged, ignoring the little pang in your chest. "Not on this. I'm smart enough to see that there's more reward than risk to have Loki on the team. For example: he's not bad to look at."

Tony choked on his candy cane, coughing up a large piece. With wide eyes, he studied you in silence, trying to figure out if you had been joking. "Are you serious? We should bring you to Helen so you can get your head checked. There's a chance you might have a concussion from the last mission."

"You have eyes, you can see how regal he is despite not genuinely being born royal. And those cheekbones..." you trailed off, biting your lip at Loki's handsome features. Tony raised an eyebrow, slowly shaking his head. "Not that his perfect bone structure justifies all the people he's killed. I'm just very observant being an avenger and all."

"Uh-huh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure." Tony mumbled, leaning back on his chair, his eyes narrowing after your confession. "Ms. Natalia Romanoff didn't get the chance to tell me what happened between you and old Capsicle."

Rolling your eyes, you spun around in your chair, facing away from the nosy billionaire. "There's not that much to tell. We talked, we liked each other, then the sun came up and reality set in as the form of Sharon Carter. It didn't take long for him to ditch me to go for Peggy's niece. Anyways, been there, done that. People change."

"You're not the same girl I met." Tony stated. "On that note, Rogers' old brain is still defrosting and he's getting older so I don't think he knows how stupid he is...yet."

"And I'm not going to wait for him to find out." you muttered, a loud sound coming from the big yard. Looking through the garage window, you saw the blinding light before two figures in different colored capes appeared, the blinding light ruining the fresh-cut grass. Beaming at Tony, you got up. "Want to plan a party with me?"

"You say that like I'd have the ability to say no. Tonight?" Tony replied, grinning at thought of loud electronic dance music and booze.

Getting up, the stilettos clicked on the floor, your perfect pedicure peeking through the hole. Smiling, you walked towards the door. "Well, we are in the presence of two Gods. I think it's only fair we celebrate like it."

"I'm putting Party in the USA on the track-list!"

Rushing to the lawn where the rest of the team gathered, your mood was lightened by the sight of the golden haired retriever in disguised as a jacked God. Ignoring the others, you threw yourself at Thor, the God of Thunder catching you, arms tightening around your body. You let out a breathless laugh, momentarily forgetting your idiotic plan to avoid Steve. "Thor!"

Thor guffawed, lifting you off the ground, shouting your name in glee before letting you breathe again. "My favorite avenger! Miss me?"

"Duh." you responded, glancing at Loki, who had magically changed into an all-black suit, his shoulder length raven-colored hair slicked back. His eyes narrowed slightly at the team who had defeated him. He looked even better in person. "So, that's Loki."

Natasha spoke up before either Asgardian could. She stepped closer, observing him with you. "Not sure. He isn't as smug as before—"

"And he's missing those horrendous reindeer horns he was wearing." Clint chimed in, crossing his arms. His hate for Loki—which had increased when he found out the man who once controlled him was coming to the team—was almost as deep as Steve's. "He looks like a witch in that black suit."

Thor snickered, releasing Loki from the handcuffs that held him. "As you all know, my adopted brother's punishment from Father is to help Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Loki understands all the rules, and he will so follow them accordingly. Isn't that right, brother?"

Loki rolled his eyes, sighing before reluctantly nodding. "Yes, I will."

"Let me make this clear, Loki." Steve stepped up, Sharon right behind him, face composed. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at the couple. "If you break one rule, no matter how small, you will be sent back to Asgard and face Odin's alternate punishment. Just so you're clear, we won't hesitate to send you back."

The God of Mischief smirked, feeling smug knowing he could push the super soldier's buttons. "Of course, Captain. I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules enforced."

Everyone could sense the sarcasm and mockery in his voice, all of them tensing. Thor sighed, clapping his brother on the back, the force making Loki take a steps forward. "Come on, brother. I'll show you your quarters before you get punched by Lady Natasha."

Without waiting for Loki to answer, Thor practically pulled Loki's arm off, pulling him towards the building, crossing the ruined lawn that Tony would bitch about later. Everyone followed them, staying a few feet back, wary of the new team member. You noticed Steve stealing glances at you, quickly moving away from Sharon's side and made his way to you.

Without being too obvious, you squeezed your way between Bruce and Natasha, snaking your arms between there's, hoping it would give Steve the impression not to talk to you. Ever. Natasha threw you a sympathetic smile, squeezing your wrist while Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

Thor continued talking about the new compound, leading his brother to the entrance while pointing out installments that would've seemed impressive to a simple "midgardian."

He might've unconsciously murdered people but he kinda thicc.

At that exact moment, Loki turned around, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. His smirk grew, glancing between you and Steve before turning back. It had been so quick that you weren't sure it even happened. The group scattered as soon as they stepped a foot inside; Bruce heading to the lab, Steve following him while Sharon split and headed up to Medbay, Natasha hitting the gym with Clint, leaving you alone with Thor and Loki.

Unfortunately, Thor's room had been across yours, the empty room next to yours becoming Loki's so both a spy and a god could keep an eye on the trickster. Both Tony and Steve had fought on that, Steve concerned about your safety while Tony argued back, telling him you could keep yourself safe. If not, Thor was there. That had angered you; Steve didn't think you were capable of fighting off Loki if it came to it, and that made you roll your eyes at him, exiting the room.

"...and this will be your quarters. Decorate it any way you want, just no magic." Thor continued, reaching the area of your rooms. It was a big arc, the area looking like a semi-circle with three doors spaced evenly out. "My chambers is across Lady Y/N's, so we won't have any problems. She's a smart one, brother. Anything else to add, Sunshine?"

You ignored the nickname, eyes narrowing at the black-suited man. "There's a party tonight 'celebrating' the addition to the team. It starts at 8 so don't be late or else Tony will have your head. Also, if you wake me up before seven in the morning, watch your back 'cause I hold grudges."

Giving Thor a smile, you head to your room, closing the door with a sigh. On the other side, you heard Loki chuckle once. "I like her."

"She's serious. She almost ripped my heart out the one time I accidentally woke her from her slumber." Thor added, the clap on his brother's back loud. "Get ready for the party, Loki."

Loki had been forced in his room by his brother, the door closing after him. He listened carefully, hearing you plop on your bed. He bit back a smirk, a plan unfolding in his brain. With a swift gesture of a finger, the room had been decorated, the hideous white theme changing into an exact copy of Loki's bedroom in Asgard.

The day went by fast as you wasted it away planning the party with Tony, who had, in no way, helped. You had ran off to your room once the people Tony had hired came, setting up everything in the main room. As you walked to the three-bedroom wing, you saw Steve rocking back and forth in front of your door, his hands in his pocket while Thor gushed about his flying hammer.

Relief washed over his face as soon as he spotted you, and you almost turned around, wishing you had gone to Natasha's room to get ready.

Steve called out your name, abruptly ending his conversation with Thor. As you walked closer, you could see the concern etched on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Thor watched your reaction, your face fighting the urge to make a face at America's sweetheart. Maneuvering your body, you slid between the two men to get to your room. "I'm fun-fucking-tastic. Thor, remind Loki about the party. I didn't spend the whole day with Tony for Loki to miss his own party."

"I'll be there, darling." Loki chimed in, his head poking out of his bedroom. Everyone turned to look at him, seeing the not-so-subtle wink he gave you.

Ignoring Steve's clenched fists, you moved past them, entering your room. Before closing the door, you said, "Tony requests the presence of all three of you, by the way. There's no way you're getting out of this. See you at 8!"

With a sighed of relief, you closed the door in Steve's face, the loud slam cutting off whatever he was about to interject. He could talk to Sharon about whatever shit he was dealing with, the girl he chose. You were no longer someone he could vent to after the shit he pulled, leading you on before leaving for Sharon Carter. It was then that you came to the decision to not love so easily.

Getting ready for the party took longer than you thought it would, the hot shower burning your skin to the point your skin started to redden. Your mind wandered to Loki, curios about the wink. Maybe it was his way of messing with people, a loophole that had not been included in the agreement. Realizing how inappropriate it was to think about the God while showering, you quickly turned the water off and stepped out.

Knowing Natasha, she's be disappointed if you didn't dress up like your inner slut, the one that got fucked up in Tokyo, and the petty hoe who would do everything to make Steve Rogers regret his decision. Well, you weren't going to let your sestra down.

The sultry, tight red dress was almost too short to be considered decent. With it's low cropped top, your tits we're begging for attention, the bra non-existent. Your new motto: protect the city, free the titties. The matching red stilettos would've been a pain if you hadn't started wearing them so early in your life. You let your hair down, running hand through it before slapping some natural makeup on your face, trying not to look desperate for attention.

It was around 8:15 when you finally finished, already exhausted by the amount of work you had to put on for others, but mostly for yourself. Either Tony or Natasha would come barreling through your door if you were going to be any later. Rushing, you took a quick look in the mirror before opening your door, nearly bumping into the God of Mischief.

He was dressed in a black buttoned-downed dress shirt with matching dress pants. Like before, his hair was slicked back, the shoulder length, raven hair looking silky and sexy. You both eye each other, eyes appreciating the sight in front of them. It wasn't until you finally met his eyes that he cleared his throat, a smug smile covering half his face.

"Would you mind accompanying me to the party, Lady Y/N? My brother is an idiot and cannot give a proper tour with his minuscule organ that he calls a brain. As of that, I do not know where this celebration is held." Loki explained, holding out his arm, waiting for you to take it. He raised an eyebrow while you hesitated. "If not, I could just follow you and everyone would assume I'm planning to have your head."

"Jesus Christ, you and Thor are so fucking dramatic." you grumbled, taking Loki's arm, your arm snaking around his. "Must run in the family, huh?"

"I'm adopted."

"I don't care."

Loki darkly chuckled, feeling your warm body against his, letting himself grow closer, enough that he could feel more of you but not enough that you would've noticed. "I sincerely hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you look rather ravishing, darling."

"Have you ever thought of cutting your hair?" you replied, loving the way Loki's smug expression wavered—probably expecting a compliment—before composing himself. "You'd look less like Johnny Depp from Pirates of the Caribbean."

"I don't understand." Loki said, leading you towards the elevator. For someone who claimed they didn't know where they were headed, he had the sense of knowing where everything was.

You waved the pop culture reference away, pushing the elevator button. "You wouldn't. Is Thor already at the party?"

"I'm quite positive."

The rest of the walk to the main room was quiet, neither of you making small talk as you led him. More like, he led you. You were suspicious he had stayed back and faked not knowing the compound in order to mess with you. But you waved that thought away, focus on getting distracting yourself from Steve.

You could hear the party before seeing it, the big room had been half full, not too much, not too little, yet you had been surprised considering how extra Tony could be. Letting go of Loki's arm, you walked to the bar where Natasha was sipping a glass of whiskey, ignoring the rest of the party. She pulled out a bottle of gin as you arrived, raising an eyebrow at your accompanied date.

"Before you say anything, he didn't know where the party was so he asked me to guide him. Nicely if I might add." you said, pushing back the bottle, settling on a bottle of water instead.

Natasha smirked, watching Loki interact with his brother, a frown deepening on his face. "He knows where everything is, Thor gave him the whole tour while you were with Tony. Can't believe you took the bait."

"Ugh." you grumbled, wishing you could forget about tomorrow and drown your problems in alcohol but the last hangover nearly killed you.

"Stevie doesn't look to happy with you showing up with Loki." Natasha noticed, the smirk widening as she watched Steve's glare grew more lethal as Loki's grin got bigger. "This is so much better than America's Next Top Models fails. Do you wanna bet that one of them will punch the other before the party is over?"

"Daddy, chill." you mimicked, turning to see how enraged old Capsicle is. But with the blonde besides him, looking up him in both wonder and worry, he had no right to be angry at Loki for attending a party that had been thrown for him, despite the many people he murdered—while being controlled. "He can't seriously still be sour about Loki joining."

The redhead giggled, a little drunk from the amount of alcohol she already consumed. "I don't think that's what he's so broody about, not anymore at least. He was smiling until he saw you on Loki's arm."

"Ain't my fault he chose Peggy's niece over me, meaning he doesn't get to be jealous whether Loki is my date or a walker for these killer stilettos." you muttered, secretly loving and hating the jealousy that oozed out of Steve Rogers. Even his blonde date had noticed. "Look at these heels, aren't they gorgeous?"

"Almost as gorgeous as you." Natasha replied, winking just before she drowned the rest of her drink. She winced a little at the taste.

"How many of those have you had?" you wondered, eyeing the spy. After the worst hangover of both your lives, Natasha had made you swear to never let her get that drunk again. Although with the rate she was going, you feared you had been too late.

She shrugged, taking your bottle of water. "Four. Oh, look, here comes Steve."

Before you could ditch, Steve leaned against the counter, his blue buttoned down shirt matching his blue eyes. Natasha not-so-subtly walked to the other side of the bar, motioning for Bruce to keep her company, although knowing her, she'd listen to every word.

"Rogers," you greeted coldly, looking everywhere but him. He tensed at your cold greeting, the frown looking permanently pressed on his face. "Enjoying the party?"

"Yeah."

Lie.

"Good."

You sat there for a good two minutes before he cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously from one foot onto the other. Steve coughed in his fist. "So...living near Loki isn't too much trouble, is it? He causing any trouble, yet?"

"Sweet as an angel." you replied sarcastically, wishing you were anywhere but here. Loki caught your eye, raising a hand to wave and the group that had been brave enough to be near him, gasped in shock, the noises audible across the room. Their reactions made you chuckle.

Steve cleared his throat, this time louder. "Would you like to dance?"

"Ask your girlfriend." you fired back, satisfied by the hurt on his face. After the stunt he pulled, leading you on only to stomp of your heart, you wanted to be selfish and make him suffer just a little bit. Thankful, Loki came to your rescue.

Ignoring Steve, he held out his arm once again, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the tense situation between you and Steve. But before he could utter a single word, Sharon decided it was the perfect time to come looking for Steve. She assessed the situation, awkwardly noting Loki's presence.

"Er, hello." Sharon said, standing in false bravery. She wouldn't admit it, but she was afraid of the God of Mischief.

Loki gave her a curt nod and held out a hand to you instead, easily fitting yours in his. He murmured your name, softly kissing your knuckles. "Would you like to dance? This is the first song that came on that has not made me want to tear my ears off."

"Why, yes, I would." you agreed with a grin, moving your body close to Loki as you reached the unofficial dance floor, everyone's eyes on the both of you, with shock and slight fear. You would've cackled at their reactions—and it looked like Loki wanted to, too—if you hadn't been raised with manners. "Thank you."

Loki raised an eyebrow, surprised by the words. "For what, if I may ask?"

"Saving me back there. I don't need that kind of drama in my life. Not anymore." you explained, drinking in the warmth of his arm wrapping around your waist as you both slowly swayed to the slow song.

The raven-haired God smiled—not the smug smirk he wore, but a genuine one that Thor hadn't seen his brother wear for a few years now. "My pleasure. A lady like you deserves someone who'll give her his undivided attention. Any suitor would be lucky to have a tenth of your attention."

A coping mechanism: you rolled your eyes but you couldn't help the small smile that forced itself on you lips. You bit it back, hoping no one had noticed.

Loki had. And he meant every word he said.

By the end of the night, you found yourself naked, against the wall and legs wrapped around Loki's waist. Lips crashed against one another, soft kisses trailing down necks, leaving little love marks that would surely be dark. But at the moment, you didn't care. Not when Loki whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he took you from behind, above, underneath, and even on the side. You had both been teasing each other at the party and now you had given in, no matter the consequences.

—

Annoyed Steve had missed the date he had asked you on, you walked up to his room, heels clicking. You had waited for him for over two hours, texted him and getting no replies, leaving the restaurant with the humiliation of being stood up.

But as you neared his door, you heard crying. But it wasn't Steve. Peeking inside, you saw Sharon. Pretty, talented Sharon. Her eyes were red, tears steaming down her cheeks while Steve hugged her shoulders, resting his chin on her head as he comforted her. Jealousy and hurt knocked the breath out of you.

You waited.

And waited.

And it happened. Leaning in slowly, he kissed her. Softly, like he had kissed you. And she kissed him back, finding comfort in the kiss.

Heart breaking in two, you left, leaving the door open. The couple broke their kiss long enough to see you walk away through the slit of the door. Steve hung just head, feeling terrible. But Sharon had helped him as he had. This time, they hadn't stopped at kissing, forgetting the girl who had her heart broken by the man who claimed he would never hurt her.

Steve knew it was over between you two, but he could focus his attention on caring as much as he wanted to when Sharon kept kissing him. He did try to apologize only to learn you had went to visit Thor in Asgard, leaving him to feel sorry for himself and his decisions. Yet, he still found temporary comfort in Sharon's arms.

—

You woke to the warmth of Loki's arms around you. Opening your eyes, you found yourself tangled limbs with the God of Lies, your hair a mess, a hand over his chest and a leg over his waist. Your cheek rested on the crook of his neck, fitting perfectly as if he was made for you.

"Good morning." Loki whispered, stroking your hair with one hand, the other softly massaging your thigh. "Sleep well?"

Nuzzling into his neck, you snorted at the irony. "Don't know, considering we didn't do much sleeping."

Loki chuckled, pressing a soft kiss on your head. "Touché. It would only be fair of me to apologize for the love marks I left on your soft skin last night. Forgive me but I could not help myself."

Gasping, you jumped up, looking at the vanity mirror across your bed to find your collarbone, neck, and the top of your breast covered in Loki's hickeys. He looked rather proud of himself than sorry. "Loki!"

"Please note my apologies are genuine when they are directed towards you. Although, I have to admit, I'm quite proud of myself. It's my best art." Loki announced, bringing himself up on his elbows, eyes ravaging your naked flesh, littered with his marks.

Noticing the difference between your bodies, you quickly turned around to see the reflections had been right; Loki's body remained unmarked. "I swear to god I left hickeys and bite marks all over you last night."

"You tried but got rather mad when my skin healed itself." Loki explained, pulling you back in his warm arms. The soft gesture surprised you, the whole situation coming into light. You had slept with Thor's murderous brother. Loki read your thoughts. "Don't be like that, love. What what I can remember, you enjoyed yourself last night quite immensely. If it will make you feel better, I can show all the love bites you made the night before."

Thankful you hadn't drank anything last night, you had been so happy to not wake up with a hangover and Loki. Turning to face him, you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

With a smirk, his chest gleamed green for a second before it uncovered layers and layers of hickeys, and reddening bite marks. It was identical to yours. You gasped in shocked while Loki stared at you in amusement, his arms tightening. "You did a little bit of damage. I'm proud."

"Holy shit—" you were cut off by Thor and Steve bursting into your room, the sudden motion making you cover up your naked chest with a shriek. The two men's jaws dropped as they took in the scene, Loki's bare chest covered with the evidence from last night, his arms wrapped around you while you stared at them with wide eyes. "Knock, goddamnit!"

Both of them stood in silence, their brains not processing what was in front of them. Steve's eyes had mirrored yours from when you caught him kissing Sharon, eyes watering, you could see his heart breaking just by making eye contact. But at that moment, you couldn't find yourself to care, not with Loki's arms around you.

"What—" Thor began.

Loki smirked, kissing your bare shoulder. "Hello, brother."

next >

[whitewolfmoving]

Leather and Lace Part One

My Thoughts On You

Summary: Katt Barnes knows the one thing she never has to apologize for is her place in the world; her father taught her how to be strong, her brother taught her how to be stronger. When her boyfriend, John Walker attempts to decide who she gets to be, it becomes the last straw for their relationship. Not only does it break Katt's trust in him, but in her family and herself as well.

Prompt: "I hate you because I will have to wonder for the rest of my life why I wasn't good enough." || found on pinterest.

Warnings: swearing, arguing, breakup

Word Count: 2354

A/N: PART ONE IS HERE!!!!! Buckle up, shit's about to get real. After so much planning and time spent writing, it's finally here. I hope you like it. This series is a special one. Happy reading!

Spring in Brooklyn arrived quickly for Barnes' Garage; and with everyone preparing to travel during the summer, business picked up soon after that. The shop—owned and operated by the Barnes siblings, James and Katheryn, who took over after their father passed—ran just as smoothly now as it did then. A legacy left behind to his children, the White Wolves Motorcycle Club, George's one and only condition for keeping the family business was that the twins run them both together. So, with a 50/50 split of the shop and the Club between them, ask anyone between the Five Boroughs where the best mechanic was in the whole of New York City and they'd say, "Go see Bucky at Barnes' Garage in Brooklyn. You won't be disappointed." And no one ever was.

—

A light breeze rolled through the shop and ruffled Katt's hair. She stood up from where she'd been leaning over the rear end of a red Porsche 911 Turbo, stretched, and looked around for signs of the other mechanics. She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and checked the time—11:50 am—still a good ten minutes until they'd all break for lunch. The car had arrived some time around 8 o'clock, Bucky'd been meaning to get to it but he'd been swamped all morning and she figured helping him out was the least she could do. Katt had changed the timing chain, replaced the cover, and changed the oil in no time at all. All that she had left was the complimentary wash and detail before the client came to pick it up at 12:30. Katheryn Barnes was nothing if not quick and efficient.

"Yo, Katt! John's outside looking for ya," Steve called from the car next to her. He chuckled, noticing the ghost of a frown that pulled at the corner of her mouth.

Katt sighed, wishing she hadn't remembered to change the batteries in her hearing aids when she got to work that morning. Luckily, she'd stashed the dead ones in the pockets of her shorts. She quickly leaned back over the Porsche's engine, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders. With the dead battery cell in her fingers, Katt discreetly lifted her hand to the battery door on her left hearing aid and switched out the cells, then tucked the live one in her pocket. She repeated the action with her right hearing aid, and set to work rechecking that the timing cover was in place.

"Hey, Beautiful." A large hand settled gently on the small of Katt's back; she jumped, startled. Two hands then gripped her hips and pulled her from underneath the Porsche's trunk.

Katt turned a wild-eyed glare on the man behind her. She moved her hands quickly, with little regard for the fact that John would have no idea what she was saying to him. What the hell, JW? Are you trying to kill me?

John blinked, confused. He shook his head, unable to understand what Katt was saying. It was no secret around the shop that John Walker was dating James Barnes' twin sister, Katheryn. And it was no secret that Katheryn Barnes was Deaf. However, for some unknown reason, John Walker (more commonly known around the shop by his sign name JW, given by Katt) refused to learn sign.

The scowl on Katt's face grew the longer John stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights. She stomped her foot, frustrated. Why did you sneak up on me?

"I-I'm sorry. I don't…" he shook his head again, pulling his phone from his back pocket. He pulled up the speech-to-text app and quickly dictated a message, then flipped the screen around to show her. Didn't you hear me call out to you? Are you wearing your hearing aids today?

Katt let out an irritated squeal; she hated having this conversation with him. It was always the same damn thing. She glanced around the shop for her brother or Sawyer or Wanda, anyone who could help her get out of the current situation she was in. Luckily, Clint had been walking by and offered to help out.

Problem?

Can you interpret for him?

Sure.

Thank you.

Katt turned her attention back to John and took a deep breath. The expression on her face sobered as she thought of the best way to handle the situation given that they were standing in the middle of the shop; she didn't want to draw any more unnecessary attention to themselves than John already had, not that it would matter. As calmly as possible, Katt explained to her boyfriend what had caused her to startle at his presence.

"I don't want to have this discussion right now but since you're here, we will. Yes, I am wearing my hearing aids today. No, I didn't hear you call for me. That's why I was startled when you suddenly appeared behind me," Clint said, interpreting for John what Katt had signed to him. Already the blond could tell that he'd walked into a conversation he would have loved to hear about later on. No one at the shop approved of John's place in Katt's life; Bucky simply hated him for dating his sister, while Clint and Sawyer hated him for refusing to learn sign.

"If you're wearing them, why didn't you hear me?" John asked.

Katt continued her explanation, going so far as to remind John again that her hearing aids were a tool she chose, not a magical cure. She removed her left hearing aid, pointing out the blinking red light—the dead battery indicator.

Clint smirked. He could see the frustration bleeding through to Katt's signing, no matter how hard she tried to keep it at bay. "Just because I have them, doesn't mean I can hear. I'm still deaf. If you're approaching me from behind, you still have to let me know. You have to get my attention or tell someone around me who can let me know you're coming. My hearing aids are a tool, all they do is amplify what little ambient noise that I can still hear. And just because I want them, doesn't mean I need them. Today, my batteries are dead."

"I know. I know it's not perfect, okay? I'm sorry. Maybe keep spare batteries in your pocket or something. This is hard for me, too. I just want to be able to communicate with you."

Then learn to sign. If you truly want to be able to communicate with me, learn my language.

John frowned again. He could tell by the look on Katt's face that she was upset, but he didn't understand why. He looked at the other man helplessly when he didn't immediately jump to interpret what the young woman had said. "What'd she say?"

Don't ask him, ask me. And don't talk about me like I'm not here. I'm the one talking. He's the interpreter. He's here for you, not me. But Clint's deaf, too, or did you forget that? You don't give him near as much shit as you do me. Why is this such a problem for you?

Clint turned to Katt with a grin. Stirring up trouble was Clint Barton's forte, especially when it came to John Walker. Want me to interpret that?

Please, do.

"Don't ask him, ask me. And don't talk about me like I'm not here. I'm the one talking. He's the interpreter. He's here for you, not me. But Clint's deaf, too, or did you forget that? You don't give him near as much shit as you do me. Why is this such a problem for you?"

"Because I'm not sleeping with Clint, Katheryn!"

Thank you for interpreting. I can take it from here.

No problem. Later, Kitty.

As Clint walked away, Katt removed her right hearing aid and opened the battery door. She threw both of the dead cells on the shop floor, reached into her pocket for the new ones, and replaced them. She waited for the green light to appear on both hearing aids, then returned them to her ears.

Time always seemed to slow down in John's presence; he was always so blind to everything happening around them, but not Katt. No, she could see it all. She often wondered if maybe she were the problem, she tried to pretend she was for the sake of their relationship. Oftentimes, she was stuck pretending to be someone she wasn't to appease John for so long, that she forgot how it felt when they first met… when she thought he was it for her. God, how she hoped he wasn't.

"What did you just say?" Katt kept her gaze level with John's, her voice free of all emotion until she was absolutely certain she understood what he said correctly. She knew that sometimes their emotions got in the way, they didn't always read the situations properly; between the tension and the fighting, things became skewed. She didn't want to leave anything to chance because deep down, she needed him still.

"I'm not sleeping with Clint," he repeated. John stared back at Katt, swallowed down his own frustration and narrowed his gaze.

Katt didn't need to look around the shop to know that everyone had heard John's comment, she didn't need to look over her shoulder to know that her brother was standing behind her, she didn't need to look at the car next to her to know that Steve had focused his attention on John. She could feel everyone's eyes on them the moment he dared to raise his voice, she could feel Bucky's presence the moment the breath left her lungs. The world seemed a lot smaller when she was at the center of it.

She turned as she felt Bucky's hand settle on her back, protecting her the way he always did. She offered him a small smile, her warm brown eyes darkening with the swell of anger rising within her chest.

Want me to handle it?

Thanks but I got this.

Bucky nodded and stepped back, giving Katt room to breathe. He kept his dark blue eyes trained on John Walker's face, committing every detail to memory. Whatever Katt had to say was nothing compared to what he wanted to do to John after all was said and done.

"I'm going to stop you right there and offer a correction: were. You were sleeping with me. Because as of this moment, I'm not your girlfriend anymore. Who the hell do you think you are, John? What gives you the right to tell me how to live my life? It's my life. And you know what? I love being Deaf. I love my culture, my language, my friends. You couldn't even take two seconds to learn how to say please or thank you or yes or no! And I am done accepting that. "

"Now, hold on, Katt. You don't mean—"

"For once in your pathetic life, just shut up, John! Quit talking over me. Quit telling me how I feel or what I mean. You don't know what I mean because you never fucking listen! You don't get to tell me how to be Deaf; I decide that." Katt's anger bubbled. She took a step toward the man in front of her, only to be pulled back by Bucky's left hand on her upper arm. She shot him a glare at his unwelcome intervention; he only gestured forward for her to keep going.

Go on.

Katt returned her fiery scowl back on John's face. For a moment, she knew all she could think about was the bright blue of his eyes… how she'd fallen for them so easily, the realization hit her like a truck and she felt it deep inside her soul—she still needed him. "You know, I hate you. Because I will have to wonder for the rest of my life why I wasn't good enough. And that really fucking sucks. Go home, John. We're done."

—

The rest of the day flew by without incident.

After Katt left, Bucky and Steve escorted a humiliated John Walker from the premises with a promise to rearrange his face if he ever showed up looking for Katt again. Clint and Sawyer worked together to finish up the Porsche's complimentary wash and detailing in time to be picked up by its owner, and a hefty tip was left in the office for the mechanic who'd treated his prized possession with such tender love and care. They closed shop at 4 pm on the dot.

Sawyer sat in the office counting the cash drawer so she could make her last run to the bank when Bucky stopped in. The air around the usually calm, smooth-talking mechanic had been thick with tension ever since Katt's showdown with John Walker that morning.

How's your arm today?

Fine.

Sawyer knew Bucky's thoughts had been occupied with his sister from the moment the roar of her motorcycle could be felt throughout the garage; she'd sped off without looking back, without letting anyone know where she was headed. No one blamed Bucky for worrying.

She'll be fine, Buck. She always is.

I know, S. But you didn't see her face when she left. I sent Pietro out to look for her, he said he'll call when he finds her. It feels different this time. She… Bucky trailed off, dropping his hands to his lap. He took a seat in the office chair at his late father's desk. The faces in the photo behind the glass frame stared up at him; the last photo the three of them ever took together. The day Bucky and Katt patched into the MC. The smile on George's face said it all; nothing meant more to that man than family.

Sawyer lightly tapped Bucky's knee. She what, Bucky? What's wrong?

Bucky ran his thumb over the silhouette of his sister in the photo and looked up to meet Sawyer's eyes. She was completely broken. I don't think Katt knows who she is right now. I don't even know who she is right now and that's what scares me.

[jazminebrightxx]

LIKE MAGIC

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SHOW: Teen wolf

CHAPTER THREE: “works like magic”

EPISODE: 3x02 “chaos rising”

(part two)

The sudden fact and shock of Erica's death hung in the air, tension rising between Derek and Isaac. After Kaitlin had passed out Stiles grew worried for his childhood best friend. But the thought of the bombshell she had dropped on the two of them not even an hour ago still loomed in his mind.k

He looked at the brunette who sat on a table, her uncle looked here over, double checking she was okay, Stiles was confused, he didn't know how to feel about the fact that the girl he'd known his whole life was a supernatural. In one instance, he still just saw Kaitlin, the girl he had grew up with, the girl who's mom was best friends with his mom before she died. He saw the way her nose crinkled up when she laughed and the dimples when she smiled. Or how she played with her collarbone when she was nervous. Then on the other hand, he saw her in a whole new light, she was a witch, he'd seen her do it, she held Isaac down so effortlessly and was willing to hurt herself to help.

Kaitlin caught Stiles gaze, sighing, she says a few words to her uncle, jumping from the table and made her way over to the two friends, awkwardly standing in front of them.

"We should talk" she stated, her arms crossed over her chest, the boys look to each other, silently agreeing "okay" They make their way outside, standing near the redheads car, she leans against the hood as she crosses her arms.

"Why would you lie to us?" Scott questions, a scowl grows on Kaitlin's face, shaking her head slightly "I didn't lie to you, I'd never lie to you. I just..." she sighs, looking at her feet.

"My mom tried to hide it from me for the first few years of my life" she looks up at the two, slight hurt in her eyes

"When it finally happened she explained everything to me, but made me swear to keep it a secret" her voice was horse, her head still slightly sore.

"How'd it happen" Stiles questions from his place, standing against the wall across from the redhead

"Eight years ago" she starts "I came home from school after a really bad day" she takes a quick glance at Stiles, the boy listening intently. "Every little thing annoyed and agitated me, then I got really upset with my mom, which ended in me shattering my kitchen windows without trying" she chuckles lightly at the memory.  "she knew she had to tell me after that, I was young, but I wasn't dumb"

"She explained everything to me, but even if I was allowed I couldn't tell you guys" her voice wavers, emotion building up slightly, she looks to Stiles "you had just lost your mom" then to Scott "and your dad...you were just kids"

"Katie you were a kid too"

Kaitlin goes quiet, looking down at her feet, she sighs "it was so hard, when I moved away, it killed me. I hated it, the thought that I might never see you guys again, I thought that I would never get the chance to tell you guys the truth" she shakes her head, looking back at her friends.

"The reality of it set in when Lydia told me she knew" the two boys look at each other dumbfounded, Kaitlin laughs

"Yeah that's how I felt, she said something about a feeling"

"Psychic" Stiles mumbles

Scott steps forward, his arms slightly crossed "Katie, I think I speak for us both when I say, we don't blame you and we're okay with it" he smiles "but how did you know about... you know, me" Kaitlin smiles

"About two weeks before I moved back, deaton came to Boston for the weekend. He sat me down and explained everything, Peter, Derek, the kanima and what's currently happening, the alpha pack" Scott smiles with her "have to admit, I was speechless"

Stiles stands straight from his position, clapping his hands together. He walks forwards standing beside Kaitlin and wrapping an arm around her shoulder

"Well, I for one am very excited for all of the 'Sabrina the teenage witch' jokes I'm about to make" he jokes, Kaitlin laughs at him, wrapping her arm around stiles lower back, he pulls her closer, squeezing her comfortably

"Looking forward to it."

******

"She's not dead" Derek Hale yelled at his beta, Isaac flinched at the loudness of his voice, the two had been arguing over the status of Erica.

"Derek, he said, 'there's a dead body. It's Erica.' Doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation" Stiles explains, Kaitlin sat beside Isaac on a counter, rubbing her temple in irritation

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?" Kaitlin rolls her eyes, growing tired of the same conversation "someone else obviously"

"Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle." He looks to Isaac "the one who saved you?"

"No, she wasn't like us, and whoever was in the vault with Boyd was." Stiles crosses his arms, a sigh escaping his lips.

"What if that's how Erica died? They pit them against the each other during the full moons and see which one survives, it's like werewolf thunder dome" Stiles rambles, Kaitlin lets out a breathy chuckle, Stiles' humor always slipped through at the worst times.

"Then we get them out tonight" Derek pushes even further

"Be smart about this, Derek. You can't just go storming in" Deaton buts in. But Derek won't give up "if Isaac got in, then so can we"

"But he didn't get through the vault door, did he?" Kaitlin finally says, the alpha turning his gaze to her "we need a plan"

"How are we going to come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than 24 hours?" He questions the witch, a smug look on his face, challenging her. She gives him an exasperated look.

"Oh I don't know you tell me, your the one that plans on getting them out tonight?" She sits up from her position, Derek glares at the witch

"Uh I think someone already did" Stiles looks at his phone "beacon hills first national bank closes its doors three months after vault robbery" he reads from his phone, handing it to Kaitlin who skim reads over the article

"It doesn't say how it was robbed but it probably won't take long to find out" the girl hands the phone back.

"How long?"

"It's the internet, Derek. Okay? Minutes"

*****

Scott and Stiles went to stiles' house after leaving the animal clinic last night to try find out more about the bank. Kaitlin had told them she would stop by in the morning before school and see how they had progressed, what she didn't expect to see was the two boys Sprawled across the room, papers scattered everywhere, some coming from the printer, both passed out.

"Guys" she attempts to wake her friends, the two teens not moving "guys!" Still even at her raised voice, they slept soundly.

She crosses her arms, smirking, she kicks the chair Scott sat on, he falls from the chair, waking himself and Stiles up as he does.

The two boys smile sheepishly at the witch when they notice her, she stands tall smirking at the boys, wearing a light purple spaghetti string top over a long sleeve white T-shirt paired with denim high waist jeans and her converse.

Stilinski walks into the room, two cups of coffee in his hand, he hands Kaitlin one, the brunette smiles at him, saying a quick thank you

"I see you woke them for me" he laughs "time for school" he states, turning to walk out of the room "Wait, dad!" Stiles calls, his father turning back to look at him

"Heather?" Kaitlin's ears perk up at the familiar name, Stilinski frowns, shaking his head "no. Nothing yet" Stiles' face falls after his father walks out

The room is silent for a few moments, before Stiles speaks up "ten hours and nothing."  He states in frustration

"We're gonna find something" Scott reassures him, glancing at Kaitlin

"Finding something doesn't make Erica any less dead" Stiles argues, moving to clean his room "or Boyd any less about-to-be dead

"We still have time" Scott reassures further, Stiles glances at Kaitlin who shrugs

"Is this whole 'remain optimistic in the face of complete and utter disaster' thing apart of the 'be a better Scott McCall' program?" Classic sarcasm from the king of sarcasm, Kaitlin chuckles, trying to hide her amusement

"Not if it doesn't work"

Stiles sighs in frustration, crumpling a piece of paper in his hand "no, it works"

Kaitlin looks at the papers around the room "Uh guys, maybe your work isn't a total failure" she calls when she notices a newspaper article with Stilinski arresting a man outside beacon hills first national bank

She moves to show Stiles the article, the boys eyes widening and pushing the article to Scott, moving to run out of the room

"Dad! Dad! Wait! Dad!" He runs out of the room, Scott looks to Kaitlin who smiles

*****

Kaitlin jumps out of her car, parked next to stiles' Jeep. The boy groans when he jumps out of the Roscoe, waiting for Kaitlin to catch up to the two, when she does, Scott pulls out his phone and they start walking

"Alright, so we meet at Derek's at 5:00 to go over the plan, and then we don't get started until dark" he swings his bag over his shoulders, Kaitlin sighs

"Do I have to come, Derek's a bit of an ass" she states, Derek's attitude towards the whole situation yesterday make Kaitlin look at the man differently

"Derek's not all that bad, Katie. He's just sour about everything with Erica and Boyd" Stiles explains, reassuring the girl who nods "Yeah I guess, what do we do till then?"

"Well right now, we've got English."

*****

The school day had gone by like any other, boring classes and boring teachers.

After school, Kaitlin, Scott and Stiles met at Derek's like planned

"Okay, you see this?" Stiles pulls out blueprints and a red marker, marking a few places on the sheet

"This is how they got in, it's a rooftop air conditioning vent" he explains the route of the vault that the robbers had took

"It leads down inside into the wall of the vault, which is here. Okay?" He circles the section where the vent is.

"One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft, now that space is so small it took him about 12 hour to drill into that wall, which is stone by the way." He continues, glancing back and forth

"Then throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash up to the guys in the roof, through that one little shaft in the wall. Boom!" He hits the table, putting the cap on the marker

"Can we fit in there?" Scott questions, leaning over the table and observing the sheet

"Yes, we can, but very, very barely." Stiles continues to hit the paper lightly as he talks "and they also patched the wall, obviously,so we're gonna need a drill of some kind"

Kaitlin watches the three men from a counter near by, her legs crisscrossed under her

"I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit.." Stiles starts to ramble again but is cut off by Derek

"Look, forget the drill." He states, Stiles freezes in his place, moving his fist slightly up and down "sorry?"

"If I go in first, how much space do I have?" He looks down at the prints, his mind set in stone

Stiles questionably eyes him, glancing at Scott and then back. "What do you think you're gonna do Derek?"

"Are you gonna punch through the wall?" They straighten up, Derek crossing his arms

"Yes, stiles, I'm gonna punch through the wall." Derek smugly smiles at the teenager

"Okay, big guy let's see it. Let's see that fist." Stiles challenges the taller man, Kaitlin straightens up to watch the scene unfold

"Big old fist. Make it, come on." He pushes further, growing cocky

Derek clenches his hand into a fist, his arms still semi crossed.

"Get it out there. Don't be scared. Big, bad wolf. Yeah, look at that" Kaitlin snickers, earning a glance from Peter Hale who sat on the stairs

Stiles grabs Derek's wrist, putting his hand a few inches away from Derek's fist "Okay, see this?"

"That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid..." Stiles doesn't get to finish his sentence as Derek punches his hand, Sending him backwards in pain, he hits his hand against the metal table. Kaitlin winces.

Stiles whines like a dying cat, falling around the room, holding his newly injured hand "he could do it"

"I'll get through the wall" Derek ignores Stiles as he quietly whimpers

"Who's following me down?" He rests his hands back down in the metal table, looking at Peter

"Don't look at me." Derek's uncle states "I'm not up to fighting speed yet. And honestly with Isaac out of commission, your not looking at very good odds for yourself"

"So I'm supposed to just let them die?" Derek questions his uncle

"Well one of them is already dead" Peter states, a sarcastic grin on his face

"We don't know that" Derek insists, Kaitlin rolls her eyes, sighing and jumping off the table

"Give it up Derek" she starts, all eyes turn to her "you do know what we're up against, right?"

"A pack of freaking alphas. All of them killers, ruthless killers at that. We don't even know all of them" the redhead crosses her arms, standing beside the table

"And if that doesn't scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them form together to make one giant alpha" she finishes, Derek looks to her curiously.

"She's right you know" Peter speaks up "I'm sure Erica and Boyd were great kids, they're gonna be missed" he finishes, stiles glares

"Can someone kill him again please?"

Peter looks back at Stiles, a stern look on his face. "Derek, seriously"

"Not worth the risk" he finishes, referring to the plan to rescue Boyd and the person in the vault

"What about you?" He looks to Scott, Stiles shrugs

"Yeah, if you want me to come..."

"Not you" Derek sternly denies, looking back to Scott

"Scott?" Stiles turns to look at his friend, pointing his thumb in the werewolf's direction.

"I don't know about Erica,but if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something" Scott states, Derek clenches his jaw but nods. Scott looks at Peter, he rolls his eyes and sighs.

"We have to try" Scott pauses, Derek raises his eyebrows "but?"

"Who's the other girl" he turns to look at Stiles and Derek "the one locked in there with Boyd?"

You should know, I am slow with updates. IM SORRY. but anyway have this crappy update :( I promise it gets better and Kaitlin is my favorite oc I’ve ever made so get ready to get to know her more.

[tdoompoet]

Keep You: Preservation of Papyrus

Sans had snapped from the humans endless genocide routes, and so took the option away from them by killing everyone himself first. After so many times doing it on his own, he grew tired (and desparate) from the loneliness. He can't keep it up, but he can't stop, either.

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(Full story under Keep Reading, with alt link to Ao3 in notes)

(Potentially triggering drawing at end of story)

(CW: injury, violence, genocide, decapitation, body horror)

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Keep You:

Preservation of Papyrus

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Not again.

He couldn't do it again.

Yet here he was, covered in dusty remains once more, the population under the mountain made silent.

It had become routine:

Wake up.

(was he really awake?)

Recognize the world had Reset.

(again. he had to do it all again. and again. and again--)

Spend an hour staring at the ceiling, bracing himself for the day's work ahead.

(--again. and again. and again. he had to--)

Slip by Papyrus, busy preparing a fresh batch for his spaghetti trap.

("Today I, The Great Papyrus, WILL capture a human! Nyeh-heh-heh!! --Brother! Don't forget to Calibrate! Your! Puzzles" --yet again--)

Murder Everyone.

After so many repeats (thousands? tens of thousands? how many by the kid's hand, how many by his own?), he was able to go about his self-appointed duty on auto-pilot. Easy enough to slip on his smile, walking alongside the townsfolk and make them laugh or groan at corny jokes as though it were any other day, until they were out of sight of anyone else. Then they couldn't react to anything anymore.

Easy enough for the first dozen or so, as he built up his first few levels of LoVe (don't think about how with his single ATK lousy damage that the only ones he could take down swiftly and quietly at first still being in stars damned stripes--). Even easier once the LoVe trickled into his Soul and what little guilt he could still feel was replaced with adrenaline and the growing reinforcement of the knowledge that he would soon be completely alone in this world once more.

But things would be different this time.

He dusted his way through Snowdin, then Waterfall, and Hotland along with the Core, and finally on his way to the Capitol, careful to keep a good distance between his brother and himself even as the population dwindled to be replaced by gusts of dust, and his growing LoVe became more and more obvious to the point that others went on the defensive as soon as they laid eyes on his on imbalanced red-tinted gaze.

No one would be allowed to stop him. He must complete this before the human arrived and destroyed everyone themself. (was he really any better than the kid, or even that damned flower?)

An encounter with the King would have been likely to end in Sans' favor even before he gained any LoVe, what with the King's own LoVe and guilt making him weak to the mercies of the Judge. This, it couldn't even be counted as a fight. Sans couldn't afford to stop and think of why, if it was because the King believed he deserved the Judgement for all his own sins when there was nothing left to lose, or if it was the shock of grief and betrayal from one of his most trusted-- No, can't think about that. There was a goal to complete.

One last task. And then..

The trip to the Room of Souls was quick. Anyone who earned a Royal title was made aware of its exact location, and given a general knowledge of how the Soul containers functioned. No point in limiting the information to the King alone if his death would also result in the loss of the six souls the Underground had managed to collect so far. No point in denying them what little HoPe was left to cling to.

Now, they were Sans' only means of preserving his own last HoPe.

Soul container collected and stashed in his inventory, a detour through New Home where he quickly found and claimed that damned knife (so many Resets since the kid was last able to hit him, and that scar-that-never-happened still fucking BURNED), and a shortcut later found him blinking a gust of dust mixed snow out of his sockets. And ahead of him on the path, same spot as every other time it had come to this point--

Deep breath. Don't get distracted yet. He was so close to finishing this.

So close to saving Papyrus from the non-existent mercies of the creature masquerading as a human.

Papyrus stood there, seemingly expecting him (as he did every time it came to this point of the timeline), the small remainder of hope being replaced with that soul wrenching mix of grief, disappointment, and ever-present Mercy once he took in the changes to his brother. Once he saw the effects of the LoVe he'd earned.

"Brother."

Sans said nothing. Time was of the essence. The human would be through the ruins soon. But--

"All the Dogi are gone. And all of our neighbors."

"..yea." There was no denying the evidence, he fully knew and accepted what he'd done, but somehow it was still a struggle to get the admission out past the sudden tightness in his non-existent throat at admitting it to his brother.

"Undyne isn't answering her phone."

Sans said nothing. The reason why was obvious. He can't think of how his actions hurt his brother just yet. He'll accept everything Papyrus has to throw at him once this is over. He deserves nothing less.

"She's never going to, is she. Nor any of our other friends." A statement. Not a question.

Every other timeline, he ended it immediately upon shortcutting here before his brother had the chance to talk him down. To allow his guilt and grief to overwhelm him before he could finish and result in his brother being left to the tender (non) mercies of the kid. But if this worked (it WOULD work) Papyrus would be able to say anything he wanted to his Soul's content. He'd be ALIVE to do so.

"..i'm sorry, Papyrus. i have to do this." He was cracking. He needed to get his shit together. He needed to finish before that door opened and everything was ruined.

"Brother, this isn't the way to solve any problem! You KNOW this! Talk to me, I don't underst--"

His barely-wavering appeal, a tangled mess of bravery, belief in his brother, and wet with tears of grief finally released when the truth could no longer be denied, was cut off by a wave of bones surging up behind him. Familiarity from years of training with his brother had him dodging forward into Sans' space without a thought. It was playing dirty, but right now that didn't matter.

Sans took advantage of the familiar routine, manipulating Papyrus into position to move under his outstretched arm, yank him down by the scarf, and within a blink the cursed knife was out of his inventory and through Papyrus' neck.

Everything stopped as quickly as it started, Papyrus never even having a chance to recover from the shock before his body started dusting away beneath him.

"W-well, that's not what I expected," Papyrus managed to say. Sans' soul damn near broke right then from hearing the familiar words usually spoken to the human all those genocide runs ago now directed at himself. But he couldn't let it affect him. Not now. No time.

With speed few would believe he possessed, the knife was dropped, the Soul container was out of his inventory, on the ground, opened, and the orange soul of Bravery tossed aside without a thought. With hands starting to shake, Papyrus' head was reverently lowered inside in its place.

The lid was quickly sealed. Sans remained crouched, staring into the jar and shaking with anticipation as the rest of Papyrus dissolved to dust beside him. The scarf caught up in a sudden gust of wind, fluttering down to catch around himself and the container holding what (HoPefully) remained of his brother. It was hard to tell whether it felt more like a threatening noose or a comforting embrace.

(It was his brothers. Of course there was only ever one option it could be, regardless of what Sans thought he deserved.)

The silence stretched on, Sans refusing to break eye contact for a moment even as a stinging mix of magic and dust dripped into his straining sockets. He couldn't look away, not even to blink. Not until he was sure it worked. Not until--

"Brother, I believe we need to have a talk. There are much better ways to solve problems than shoving people into jars! Well, parts of people! That was very rude! I was very attached to my body! And where did you even find a jar that already seemed to have people parts in it?? They--!!!"

Sans couldn't help it. The tension melted out of him, body falling into a heap between the jar containing his ranting (LIVING!) brother and the dissolving human soul. Tremors wracked him as dreaded anticipation of failure switched too quickly into hysterical laughter, the disbelief of success overwhelming.

Alive. Papyrus was still alive, and still very much himself. Well, until the shock wore off, at least. He was well aware he had a lot to make up to Papyrus for, not that he could ever make up for everything he had done. But Papyrus was safe, ALIVE. With him, and unable to needlessly sacrifice himself to the human yet again.

Sans managed to save him, and he would never have to be alone with his ghosts again.

.

.

.

At the far end of the path, through the woods and over the bridge, a stone door creaked open. The human child stepped out into the snow.

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

A.N. Wasn't sure how to do it, but had the idea of the human coming out of the ruins and being horrified out of their genocidal stupor at the image of Sans gleefully hugging the jar containing his brother's decapitated head, evidence that he'd willfully done it surrounding him. Who knows, maybe it would be enough of a shock to get them to reconsider their choices up to now.

Alternatively, there was the idea that Sans would manage to evade the human while keeping the Papyrus jar close to him at all times (perhaps he even did this early on before killing everyone else), and.. just enjoying what he can of his brother's company before using him as a last resort EXP boost, even going so far as to break the jar and finish dusting his brother in front of the human for the extra shock factor.

But I couldn't bring myself to go that route. With Papyrus having the chance to natter on and chip away at his brother's mental walls while trapped in the soul container, I don't think Sans could have brought himself to murder Papyrus a second time in one run.

[capri-ramblings]

In my earlier post I mentioned I'll be taking a break from constantly working on requests so I'll probably invest more on Raptured and this new series just until juices of inspiration come back to help me with your asks! I hope none of you will mind, and thank you in advance for your understanding! 💖💖 Now, without further ado on to the chapter!

Queen and Chaos

Chapter Two.

The relationship you had with Riddle was something in the likes of a love and hate kind.

Your unique magic, Mismatch, was an ability Riddle found to be unruly. Something to not encourage because of its wild and unpredictable manner, but the fact that it bend to only his will, that it could be commanded to serve him and no one else gave Riddle a sense of power he'd never felt before. And to be honest,he was addicted to it.

You were his loyal servant. His most destructive tool in his jurisdiction of ruling.

On your part, Riddle was a beacon. A sort of light moths flew into to get burned alive. He was impossible to look away from, the very aura he emitted was that of a twisted sense of control and law.

Your magic often took a great toll on your body and the atmosphere around you, because after a single use its chaotic properties would linger for half an hour, which also rendered your remaining magic unable to control thus causing even the most simple of spells to blow out of proportion.

This angered Riddle and ultimately made you a great disability.

Still, you'd use it a thousand times if he asked you to because you've never felt the thrill of serving under a crown that seemed to titter off its wearer's own head.

"Look at the mess you've made." Riddle hissed, his eyes narrowed as he sent you a long frown. The special unit of his Triumph Knights had to be called out to sort out the dancing soldiers and their treacherous Knight Commander, who, to Riddle's annoyance and surprise, was still alive after being stabbed.

You would've told him that you knew the Knight Commander wouldn't have died that easily since he was a rather bulky and robust man, but you were more engrossed in trying to yank off Riddle's collar clamped around your neck.

"It's useless,you know. My unique magic is always a tight fit. The only way you'd get it off is if I let you, or have your head decapitated." He smiled at the last notion catching your attention as you turned you head slowly to him and frowned.

"It's not my fault. I wouldn't have needed to use my unique magic if you didn't let yourself get drugged so easily" You grinned at the sight of Riddle's glare intensifying, crossing your legs as you propped yourself on his wardrobe.

"You should know better than that. Big people like you shouldn't be too comfortable on that pretty throne of yours, because if you're on top there's bound to be people down there who'd killed to get their asses up there too"

"Watch your tongue." Riddle snapped, arms crossing. "You're talking to your Queen,Hatter."

"Oh, what are you going to do? You've already taken my head off."

Riddle chose to ignore that little snarky remark, knowing very well that if you hadn't come as you did earlier then he'd have died like some poor, unfortunate Welp. He hated when he couldn't pin you to a fault, but he'd hate it more to have lost his most valuable asset.

You just like to see him go red.

"You should be executed,you know" Riddle said, haughtily. "What with that scheming exchange you were proposing to that traitor...", his blood was boiling just from the thought of you using his vulnerability for your own gain. After all, despite whatever leash he has you on, Riddle always had this small voice in his head that constantly reminded him that betrayal comes from those you trust the most.

The Knight Commander was a well example of that.

You were no different.

"Scheming? What do you mean scheming? It was a fair trade"

"Fair trade? " Riddle was bordering on a scream now, and the few knights doing their jobs lightly turned their heads to him before he sent them all a glower and immediately they continued their work.

Furious and crossed, he strode towards you and yanked your leg from where it dangled on the wardrobe.

You let out a pained yelp and Riddle's cheeks flared a dangerous red.

"I am not something you can trade around so easily! I am your Queen, your Ruler! The very fact that you so leniently tossed around my worth is a clear show that you should have your head spiked on a barn pigs door!"

He was fuming now,every ounce of his frustration and anger seeping into his words as he hissed them through clenched teeth. His hand still held tightly onto your ankle and as he lifted it up,making you bump your head on the wall behind you and your skirt flayed open, something in your stomach tightened and subconsciously you let out a shaky sigh that was far from terrified.

"You're going all red again,Your Highness" You breathed out, "And as much as I adore that colour on you, I fear you've mistaken my intentions."

You were so quick with your movements, as swift as a breeze, Riddle hadn't even seen how you managed to untangle yourself from his grasp and came to be by his side.

"The price of a Queen is by technical terms another Queen,or in laymen terms another life, for in a game of chess should anyone take your Queen,you'd lose immediately, thus implying that your life would only be accepted if another Queen was involved",You grabbed hold of his hands in both of yours, bringing it up as you clasped it tightly.

There was a sickening look in your eyes then, the kind that made Riddle want to step back and snarl at, yet he was captivated by it as well, of how this swirl of obsession and madness melded exceptionally well with the hues of your eyes. He couldn't seem to pry you off him then.

"Don't you see? I was offering the life of thousands for yours, a single soul. How could I accept any lesser than that?" You smiled,glazed and heavy yet sweet and rich,like honey dripping over ice. "In truth,I would have asked him to give up half of the townsmen as well," a small laugh escaped you then, before you placed your lips on his knuckles and allowed them to linger on it as you spoke. "But I know how you hate greediness,so I refrained myself from asking more, even if I was trying to match up to your worth."

Riddle had no words to say then. He seemed both disturbed and enamored by your twisted declaration, a sudden pit of heat building in his core as you drank up the rather drunken expression you had on. He's had people dedicate their lives to him, but this was more than mere loyalty. You had no shred of fear in your eyes,not even when he threatened you.

You were mad. Oh,but you were also glorious, Riddle couldn't imagine anyone else standing by his side then.

[innocentbi-stander]

just stumbled across your blog in my conquest to consume all feral and bamf Jaskier content within 24 hours, and i read your headcanons for necromancer Jaskier and was wondering if you had anymore, or if you had a small ficlet involving some sort of necromancer Jaskier?? (i also saw your demigod Jaskier, where he was a son of Hades, and LOVED IT) if you don't, or aren't into that trope, that's okay. i absolutely love what you've already written. god-tier writing, truly

Hi there! I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my writing! I do have a small little ficlet that I wrote that I posted on ao3 featuring necromancer Jaskier, I’ll link it below! However I’m also never above writing more necromancer Jaskier content, so here you are:

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25272997

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Sometimes Jaskier cursed the day Death had made a pact with his unborn soul, tying him to the immortal life of a necromancer and all of the bizarre powers that came with it.

Today was not one of those days.

Because when you’ve been locked in a cage in the depths of some decrepit castle after being ambushed on the road with your witcher boyfriend and badass witch friend, those powers really come in handy. 

The bard pulled himself up into a sitting position on the cold stone floor, taking a look at his surroundings.

He was clearly in the dungeon of a long forgotten keep, by the look of the worn stone walls and rusted bars. The room was dark, and shadows flickered in the light of the few torches along the wall.

Jaskier cursed to himself as he felt the ache of his head, where he had been knocked unconscious during the attack.

The attack. The attack on the path that he had most certainly not been alone for.

A look around the cells confirmed the location of Geralt and Yennefer, each located in their own cells across the room. Clearly their attackers had deemed them the more worthy threat, as Geralt was weighed down in chains and Yennefer sported her own pair of silver cuffs decorated in runes. Magic suppressants. 

Jaskier scoffed. They hadn’t even bothered to use rope to bind his arms, too confident that the supposedly human bard would be little more than a nuisance. It was their mistake.

The pounding of his head moved into the background of his thoughts, and Jaskier became increasingly aware of a pain in his stomach. His fingers that caressed the area came away covered in blood. Shit.

Flashes of memory reminded him of the man who had run him through with his sword when one hit to the skull hadn’t stopped him from fighting back. On any other human this wound would have been fatal. For Jaskier, it meant a bothersome hole through his torso for a few days, and a very fussy witcher poking at his bandages and offering bowl and bowl of soup.

Yay necromancy powers. 

The bard lazily scanned the inside of his cell, looking for anything that might aid them in their mistake. Not that he necessarily needed any assistance, but Jaskier wasn’t fond of revealing the true depths of his powers to anyone, much less some low budget crew of hired bandits. He preferred to keep his abilities known to the few, better to be underestimated than overtaken.

He spared a glance over to the corner where Geralt and Yennefer lay. Jaskier sighed, a long and bothersome sound. For such a great witcher and even mightier witch couldn’t they wake up a little bit faster? He’d prefer being able to break them out when they could walk on their own, Jaskier didn’t think he could haul either of them back to their campsite. 

As if on cue a small moan sounded from the other side of the dungeon.

Jaskier glanced up to meet violet eyes blinking at him. 

“Ah, Yennefer, welcome to the land of the living! Or should I say ‘land of the living, also occupied by me’?” 

“Jaskier?” Yennefer’s brow furrowed, “What happened?”

“It appears as if we were attacked by bandits on the way back to the campsite, and not even clever ones at that. Hired men. Probably from that lordling Geralt and I pissed off a contract back. He seemed like the type for stupid baseless vengence.” Yennefer sat up, pulling herself to her feet to pace her cell. She jangled the cuffs on her wrists.

“Magic resistant cuffs. They must have been fairly well informed.” Jaskier laughed.

“Not well informed enough it seems. They haven’t bound me at all.” He flashed his unbound arms at her along with a smirk. A stupid mistake really, he had forgotten the blood that streaked his hands and forearms from his middle. Maybe Yen wouldn’t see.

Yennefer, clever witch that she is, noticed immediately. She crossed to the front of her cell, narrowing her eyes at him through the darkness.

“Jaskier, are you hurt?” 

“......no.” 

The look on Yennefer’s face had killed better men than he. 

“We’ve talked about not covering up injuries to look braver. That includes you too.” Jaskier had a will as strong as a limp noodle when it came to his witcher and his witcher. So he fessed up immediately.

“One of the men may have poked me a little with his sword when they nabbed us on the road.” 

“Jaskier” 

“Fine, he ran me through like he was intending to make the most musically inclined shish kebob known to mankind. Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Are you still bleeding?”

Jaskier sucked in a breath as he peeled up his blood-soaked shirt. Even though he wasn’t technically dying, that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He winced at the blood running down his stomach in little rivulets.

“Yeah, it’s still bleeding a little.” Yennefer cursed.

“Fuck. We need to get out of here as soon as possible or you’re going to have to end up taking one of my blood replenishing potions again.”

Jaskier resolved to leave immediately. Those potions were fucking disgusting. Luckily, Geralt seemed to sense the urgency and chose that moment to reawaken.

“The fuck?” Geralt threw himself to his feet at the ready as quick as one wrapped in chains possibly could. Yennefer clapped her hands together, drawing his attention to her.

“Fantastic Geralt, you’re finally up. It appears we’ve been kidnapped, you’re covered in chains, I’ve got magic suppressing cuffs, and Jaskier’s been run through with another man’s steel.”

Nothing got Geralt furious quicker than hearing of harm done to his bard.

“Jaskier?” The witcher pressed himself against the bars of his cell, eyes searching to meet Jaskier’s own. He raised his arm in an awkward wave, trying not to flinch at the steadily increasing pain.

“Hello Geralt. Lovely day to get stabbed, isn’t it?” Geralt wasn’t amused.

“Are you okay?’

“I’ll be better as soon as we get the fuck out of this awful, disgusting dungeon. I feel like I’m going to catch a disease just from brushing up the wall in here. Now how about I get us the hell out of here?”

The look on Geralt and Yennefer’s faces was one of intense worry as they watched Jaskier heave himself to his feet, almost gagging at the pain that flared throughout his stomach. Geralt barely stopped himself from reaching out to assist him, realizing that he’d never be able to help through the iron bars between them.

“You don’t have to Jaskier. You’re hurt, you need the energy to heal, not drain it summoning the undead. We can find another way.” Jaskier laughed.

“Another way? You’re covered in chains and Yen’s locked off from her magic. I can get us out of here, and then take a nice long nap.” 

He met Geralt and Yennefer’s eyes, waiting for each of them to nod their assent before his next actions.

The bard held out a hand in front of him, closing his eyes and letting his subconscious drag down into the earth below. He could feel his power begin to condense in his fingertips, creating a soft blue glow. His power sent a call out to the underworld, and a smile crossed his face when he felt something answer.

Jaskier opened his eyes to see a skeleton pulling itself from the earth in front of his cell. As soon as it stood in front of him, it swept into a low bow and hissed words in a language foreign to all living beings except those with a connection to Death. 

Masterrrrrrrrr……..

Jaskier grinned.

“Hello there! As you can see, we’re in a little bit of a predicament, if you wouldn’t mind it would be great if you could release us?”

The skeleton spared no second thought before enacting Jaskier’s wishes, ripping open the bars of his cell like they were made of paper, and proceeding to do the same for Yen and Geralt and their bonds. 

Just as the skeleton was finishing up with Geralt’s chains, a troop of bandits swarmed into the dungeon, a man dressed in red at the head.

He was no doubt the leader of the crew, and was understandably shocked to see all of his prisoners standing free. 

“I hate to interrupt the part of this whole ordeal where you’ve undoubtedly come down here to tell us all about your evil plan of capturing us, who hired you, and what’s going to become of us, but I’m afraid we simply must go. Places to be, and all that. Luckily you won’t have to go explaining to the lordling who hired you why we’ve gone missing, because you’ll be a little preoccupied dealing with some of my dear friends!” Jaskier performed a lazy wave of his hand, his fingertips resuming the familiar glowing blue hue. The bandit seemed to be having trouble processing what exactly was going on.

“What-how,” he sputtered, but was interrupted by the screams of his men in the halls behind him. The clickity clack of bone on the stone floors brought a smile to Jaskier’s face, and the tears of flesh and ligaments being torn away filled the dungeon. The men spun around, attention taken by the new imminent threat, swords raising in shaking hands. Too easy.

Jaskier felt a hand tug on his shoulder, and was pulled through a door into a forgotten corridor after Yen and Geralt. They traipsed down hallway after hallway, collecting Jaskier’s lute and Geralt’s confiscated swords. 

After a few minutes Jaskier’s steps became less steady, and his knees began to feel more like jelly. The third time the bard had to grab the wall for support Geralt lifted him into his arms seamlessly, making sure he was comfortable before ambling on. 

It wasn’t long until they reached sunlight, but by then the world had already begun to go hazy for Jaskier. He had used up too much of his energy summoning the undead and he had lost too much blood. 

Jaskier allowed the gentle rocking of Geralt’s pace to lull him to sleep, his eyelids drifting shut against the midday sun. He knew that when he woke he would be safe and the campsite, protected in his lover’s arms and soon to be met with his overbearing fussing. There would be a warm bowl of stew, a roaring fire, and plenty of blankets. There would be laughter as Yennefer told the tale of the most recent fool who had dared to cross her, and Geralt would bury his face in Jaskier’s hair to disguise his amused smile. It would be home.

Jaskier closed his eyes, and allowed himself to dream.

___________

Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to send more prompts!