#the mark Nine leaves on the story is so strong you can be a different cipher and still feel it

[ebitenpura]

thinking again about Eight who falls in love with Nine from afar, but never once knows them up close.

[darsynia]

Forgiven: Candor | CEO Steve/f!Reader series part 2

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Your first lunch date with your company’s CEO-turned-construction-hottie has netted you an invitation to a fancy gala. You’re falling head over budget heels for this guy, but getting to know him turns out to be more charming and more complicated than you expected. Words/Warnings: 2,900 / none

Written for @buck-star's Fluffy Winter Event with the prompt CEO, a sequel to the 'Ro Roll' story Forgiven. A third story in the series is mostly written (and smutty). gif by @tay-swifts

Quick note: this one's less of a romp than the first, but I'd say where the first fic is about physical attraction, this is about emotional attraction--and part III is both!

Excerpt:

Tonight’s plan is unconventional. The gala he’s invited you to is the last event of a conference for tech companies, and he was one of the keynote speakers for their final wrap-up. Rogers told you he couldn’t miss the networking for the ninety minutes between that and the start of the gala, so you’ll be arriving separately.

Honestly, if it were anyone else, you’d have tried to beg off. You’ll have to show up dressed to the sevens (the nines are way beyond your price range) and find him in a sea of very important people and other hangers-on. It’s a recipe for a fairy tale either way--either you’ll see each other across a crowded room or someone’s rich stepsister will cut you to verbal shreds. The only way to make that image to go away is picturing Rogers acting like a storybook hero vanquishing all your villains. 

Candor

Sharing a meal with Steve Rogers feels like it shouldn’t be this easy. 

It helps that you’d passed a vintage movie theater playing The Mark of Zorro from 1940 on your way to the deli. You’d expressed surprise that the franchise started that long ago, prompting a discussion about the notable parts of each version the other hadn’t seen (Rogers: Just her hair left to cover everything?!). Now you’re both sharing anecdotes from your late teens over some seriously delicious sandwiches, him telling you about his co-founder Barnes, and you sharing about growing up with your sister Jennie. 

Rogers’ easygoing charisma makes it far too easy to forget that he actually runs the company you work for, especially when he’s laughing. It’s only when he holds out a hand to interrupt the story of your sister’s first catastrophic job interview that his business side kicks in.

The counter is only a few feet away from your table, and he leans over, intently listening. That’s when you hear it-- the soft, frightened voice of a young woman defending herself against a furious male voice.

Rogers shoots to his feet, striding over with the remaining bites of his sandwich in his hand. The manager steps over right away, his frown fading away when he sees the tall, well-dressed man at the counter.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“I want you to observe OSHA standards, to say nothing of human decency,” Rogers says evenly. The manager presses his hands together in a blatantly fawning apology, but it’s too late. In an ever-increasing tone, your lunch companion lists out three different violations. At least one customer leaves nervously before Rogers adds a strong suggestion that the manager treat his young female employees with more respect. “I have rarely seen the same employee more than twice in the two months you’ve been open, and I hope for your sake it’s because they know their rights,” he says sternly. “Your food is good. Your management is going to run the place into the ground.”

There’s something about his voice of command that completely stomps the manager’s bravado. Seconds later, the employee who’d been yelled at comes out of the back room with a light jacket on and a purse, her face blotchy from crying. You offer her a tissue from your bag and clean up the rest of the table, which works out well when Rogers steps close and asks if you’re ready to head out. Once outside, he spots the young woman walking nearby.

“Give me a second,” he tells you, jogging over to her before she can cross the street. They have a short exchange while you wait, and you can see him give the woman a business card.

When Rogers comes back, you’re both quiet until he opens his car door for you and settles in on his side.

“That was a good thing you did.”

Rogers sighs. “I try not to throw my weight around. I’ve been watching conditions there deteriorate for weeks, and I guess that was the last straw.”

“You offered her a job, didn’t you?”

He turns and smiles, and the brightness of it reminds you of the way sunlight spills into the lobby at Star Industries.

“You’re going to spill that all down the front of you!” Marcia frets as you wobble your way to the door after work. The takeout container you’re precariously balancing is your peace offering to your sister, since you have a date on Couch Potato Movie Night.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be wearing this for long!” you say in an attempt to reassure your coworker.

“TMI!” the older woman says, playfully putting her hands over her ears.

“No, no no no--” The words cut off as you nearly bobble the styrofoam in a bid to whirl around in protest. “Doesn’t everyone change into comfy clothes after work? See you tomorrow!” 

It’s a total obfuscation, but Marcia isn’t able to object before you escape through the rotating doors. 

You won’t actually be wearing ‘comfy clothes,’ mostly because the black ensemble you’re planning to wear on your date has more exposed back than anything you’d ever worn in public before. The truth is, you look and feel great in it-- but comfy it is not. You haven’t worn it in a while (barring the try-on you did two days ago), and you’re already looking forward to the way the skirt flutters around your ankles. Its style is as close to the red dress from Only You as you could find, and you’re pretty sure Marisa Tomei would approve.

You’re hoping Steve Rogers approves, too.

Tonight’s plan is unconventional. The gala he’s invited you to is the last event of a conference for tech companies, and he was one of the keynote speakers for their final wrap-up. Rogers told you he couldn’t miss the networking for the ninety minutes between that and the start of the gala, so you’ll be arriving separately.

Honestly, if it were anyone else, you’d have tried to beg off. You’ll have to show up dressed to the sevens (the nines are way beyond your price range) and find him in a sea of very important people and other hangers-on. It’s a recipe for a fairy tale either way--either you’ll see each other across a crowded room or someone’s rich stepsister will cut you to verbal shreds. The only way to make that image to go away is picturing Rogers acting like a storybook hero vanquishing all your villains. 

You exit your taxi a block away from the venue, amused and diverted by the mental image of your CEO date wearing medieval armor and wielding a sword and shield. The night is warm for early fall, with a light breeze that pleasingly swirls around your skirt and filmy shoulder wrap. You’re left wishing you could wander through Central Park with him, looking at the first leaf changes instead of feeling out of place at the event.

As you walk, you ponder what a modern-day heroic Steve Rogers would look like. This version can definitely wield his power like a weapon, offering that young deli worker a better job or calling on his fellow manufacturers to use more sustainable materials, something Star Industries recently made news for. You’re preoccupied in coming up with a shield analogue for him when you approach your destination.

“Excuse me, miss?” a familiar-sounding voice says. You lift your head to see that it’s Rogers.

“Oh! I didn’t at all expect you to meet me out--”

“I couldn’t take it in there anymore. Place is full of opportunists who think I’m naive for not taking more advantage of our disabled clients,” he says roughly, stripping off his suit jacket as he speaks. “It seems they thought I was faking nice for the past few years. I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“You could never be disappointing!” The words come out before you can vet them, but even if you had, you’d have said them anyway. He throws his blazer over his arm and looks at you with what you can only describe as professional exhaustion. You suspect more went on in that conference than he’s willing to say, and that makes you want to be more honest with him, for some reason. “There were two things going on in my mind on my way over here, would you like to hear them?”

His tone is guarded. “All right.”

“First I was picturing you as a kind of medieval warrior on a mission to fight the kind of villains you just described--”

“No pressure or anything,” Rogers murmurs. 

“The other thing was wishing that I could take a walk with you through Central Park. The leaves are starting to change, there’s a nice breeze--what do you think?”

“I think you shouldn’t lift me up as some kind of hero,” he finally says, “--but I would very much like that.” Rogers holds out his arm for you, not unlike the way you pictured him leading you around the gala. 

As you take it, you decide to go ahead and say, “What would Barnes say about whether you’re a hero?”

“He’d call me a punk with delusions of grandeur, but he’s the one who turned down the position of CEO,” Rogers says, but though his tone is amused, his expression doesn’t really show it.

It’s information you’re not sure is even public, so you focus on keeping up with his big strides as you make your way to the Park. Everything about his body language tells you that there’s a lot going on under the surface, that he might be close to coming unraveled. There’s no good way to say, ‘it’s okay to be quiet if you need to be.’ All you can do is stay quiet and hope he feels supported. The resulting silence isn’t comfortable, but it’s not awkward either--and after what he’d said about the population of the party he left behind, the twilight beauty of the park has to be an improvement.

A gust of wind finally changes the contemplative mood when it blows your shoulder wrap up onto his chest and into his face.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” you rush to say, fighting with the thing to make it stay put. Through your fussing, he stands with his hands out, a small smile haunting his face. It’s the first one you’ve seen from him today, and you decide to comment on it to test the waters. “I can’t help but be nosy and notice you don’t seem much like yourself tonight.”

Rogers’ body language closes up and his facial expression tightens, but he nods. “I’ve had to button up for the conference. I guess it’s just harder to shrug it off, tonight.”

It suddenly occurs to you that you don’t really know him very well, and you’ve walked yourself into a semi-private section of the park with him, at night. At the same time, you still recognize the man you ogled as he sweated and worked in the foyer of his own building as ‘just one of the guys.’ 

Hadn’t you hated a job so much your sister said it ate you alive?

“I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to hold a position at your level,” you say, in the world’s greatest understatement, “What I do know is that you made a decision to protect me from having to deal with something that clearly made you miserable. It sounds like those people were judging you as a bad leader because you want what’s best for your company and its clients. For the record, I think standing up against that is plenty heroic.”

Rogers looks down at his feet for a second, letting out a quick breath before meeting your eyes again, this time with a wistful kind of smile on his face. “It’s nice to know there are people who still see that kind of idealism in me. Thank you.”

“That’s the most polite ‘I disagree’ I think I’ve ever heard,” you retort. “Just to pile on, I also get the impression that you lied to me earlier.”

Now you have his full attention, blue eyes capturing yours with a laser focus you imagine is even more intimidating to a direct subordinate. “Oh?” Clipped, doubtful.

You could love this man, but you have the distinct feeling that he’s having some sort of crisis you’re not privy to. As such, you could be helping here, or you could be making it very easy to leave you on the curb needing a new job.

He’s worth the try.

“You said Barnes turned down CEO. I think you took the job so he didn’t have to.”

The two of you look at each other steadily for a long minute, the tension of your possible mistake ramping up inside you until he strides over, nearly chest to chest.

“You’re right,” he says, almost breathless. He lifts his hand as if to touch your face, his eyebrows quirking up in a silent question. You nod, captivated by the battle he’s clearly fighting with himself. You hope you’ve earned the faith you can see reflected in his eyes.

He slides his fingertips along your cheek and into your hairline with the kind of gentleness a girl can only dream of, and then he kisses you, stealing away all other conscious thought. You sway forward, catching yourself on his chest and then clutching at his lapel when he angles his head. His lips are reverent but hungry, just on the edge of desperate, and as it goes on, your heart spirals away toward the abyss of yes, please, forever.

When he lifts his head, he’s finally smiling in a way you recognize, and holy shit it feels so much like a triumph that you’re probably in big trouble with this guy.

“How about a do-over?” he asks, offering you his arm again. The happiness in his eyes makes you impish.

“Of the kiss, or…”

With both hands framing your face, Steve takes thirty seconds to methodically ruin you for every other man on the planet. Afterwards, he bends down to pick up his jacket from the ground, slings it over his arm like nothing momentous has just happened, and then holds his other arm out just as he’d done earlier in the night.

“You’re an overachiever, you know that, right?” you say, taking his arm. He’s a few other things, but you feel certain there will be time to work on those.

“It’s chronic,” he says. “Shall we?”

The next half hour goes exactly as you’d originally pictured when you walked past the park the first time. Easy conversation, beautiful surroundings, and more sparks flying between you than a welder’s convention. He calls ahead for a car to meet up at a specific corner, and you end up having to borrow his suit jacket by the time you get there. He makes you promise to call him ‘Steve’ before he hands it over.

“Thank you for a perfect evening,” you whisper to him after he gets in the back seat with you. “For your sake I’ll try to remember the best parts, so I can recreate them when I wake up and it’s this morning again.”

“Does that mean you’ll meet me at the same time tomorrow, in that dress, so I can take you to dinner?”

Even your swoons are swooning. You manage to say, “I could never say no to an invitation that smooth!” 

Steve reaches over and squeezes your hand. “You can always say no. It’s important to me for you to know that.”

He sounds so serious that you pull your joined hands up to briefly kiss the back of his. “There’s a story behind that, isn’t there?” As you say this, your conscience stabs you. Hadn’t you dreamed of a rich man to sweep you off your feet? Would he feel betrayed by that??

“Don’t worry about that. Just know I was starting to feel… How do I put it,” Steve says, sweeping his thumb across the back of your hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way--”

“I’m not going to steal Willy Wonka’s secrets, so you can forget about asking,” you quip.

Steve throws back his head in laughter, his hand tightening on yours almost painfully before he lets go. “I was starting to forget what it was like not to be surrounded by people who want something, even if all they want is to say ‘yes.’ That’s one of the few things money can’t buy.”

“Observation changes the results--or in this case, money does,” you say, nodding. “Well, I’m going to take that as a compliment.” The car stops, and for the first time after a long day, you are disappointed to see you’re in front of your apartment.

He unbuckles and leans over to give you a brief but searing kiss. “It’s a compliment.” 

Steve gets out of the car, and for a brief moment you’re confused until he opens your door like a gentleman. It’s impossible not to be charmed. Once he’s helped you out and onto the sidewalk, you wish you could keep his suit jacket, if only so you can use it to prove none of this was a dream. 

“See you tomorrow?” he asks, then says, “Wait. I know you just well enough to suspect you want to prove you’ll say no to me.” You burst out laughing and nod. “All right then: do you want to stay home tomorrow?”

You grin. “No.”

“Good. Let’s push back by an hour, for a better reservation. Seven?”

“Yes.”

“See you then.”

Because your life is not a romance novel but a comedy, you walk in the door of your apartment two hours earlier than promised, your stomach growling in outraged hunger.

“What are you doing home already? Was that your stomach? Didn’t you eat?” your sister asks as you take your shoes off. “Well?” Jennie demands, when you silently head toward the kitchen to warm up some leftovers. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?” she realizes aloud.

“No,” you tell her, an indelible grin on your face.

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[jakelinestradlin]

Tag yourseld where your Mars take place in your birth chart ♥ Mine is on Scorpio ♥

Aries Mars

Rawness. A strong grip. Tugging a lock of hair when it gets too much. A thin line between pain and pleasure. Nails scratching down a back because of frustration. A build up. Taunts. Deliberately causing arguments because make-up sex with you feels so good. Will you take the bait? Sex feeling new each time. A fast rhythm. Confidence. Advancing towards you. Feeling protective over you. An urge to KO anyone who looks at you for more than 2 seconds. Warrior urges instigated. Persistence got me this far in life, let me show you how it works for me.

Taurus Mars

Pressure. A slow burning warmth that licks up the body. We have all the time in the world.  Every part of the body exposed to a kiss, a touch, a breath of air. Flickering of orange flames in a fireplace. A feeling of pure, unabashed sensuality when naked. Coolness of air which brushes the hairs on the back of the neck. Rooted in sexual energy. Slow and steady wins the race. Scented massages. Starting at the base of the neck. Feeling strength. Resilience. Flavored condoms. Drunk on your love. How is it possible you taste sweeter every time? The smooth column of the throat. The shadows a sunset causes dancing. Seduction is like art to me, let me paint you a masterpiece. 

Gemini Mars

Curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat had nine lives. Opening up to try different things. Trying to do too many things at once. Falling on the floor so we stay there. A combination of arms and legs. Head cocked to one side. Observing you from a different angle. Slanted eyes. A feeling of pressure that’s quick but growing in acuteness. Busy hands. Roaming fingers. Lights on or off it doesn’t matter. I can still picture you. In my mind. With my eyes closed. You’re a permanent imprint on my psyche. My desire resides on the mental plane. Whispering all the things I want to do to you. Biting an ear lobe. Wanting to learn about every inch of your body. Tell me your fantasies and watch how fast I bring it to you in real time.

Cancer Mars

Baby. But I can take control. It depends how I feel. An emotionally charged touch. Hearts in sync. A vivid imagination. Role-playing. Wearing that outfit, I know has that effect on you. Playing coy. If I’m feeling sad, I might insist we stay wrapped in each other’s arms, just for a while. Is that OK? A stormy kind of desire. Waking up to kisses. Not wanting to sleep because this moment is all I ever dreamed of. This feels like home. Checking in with you. A sensitive kind of love. Hold me tight. So tight I can’t breathe. Only then will it feel right. TLC. Crying before, during and after sex. I can’t help it. A sudden wave of desire, greedy in nature. Strong feelings of lust. My fervor for you is bottomless, this is but a small representation of its total expression.

Leo Mars

Doing it in the mirror so I can show you how beautiful you look. Don’t be shy. Rose petals on the bed. Even more rose petals on the floor. I Wanna perform for you. An effortless performance, start to finish. This is what you signed up for. Let me deliver my end of the deal. Pride in the bedroom. Forgetting about past lovers. At the moment of release, saying my name soothes the lion inside that bares it’s teeth when you’re underneath me. Aggression. Feeling royal together. Round one barely took the edge off. Leaving my mark on you. The bedroom feels like a hunting ground. Running isn’t an option. Pleasure in all its forms. Can you tame the beast?

Virgo Mars

Acting reserved in public but it’s a different story behind closed doors. Who knew? Not afraid to get dirty with you. Voyeurism. Less stress. Surrendering to pleasure and not feeling guilty for it. Peace with the imperfection of this ritual. Perfection out of the window. Lust making a direct entrance, front and center. Tasting you. And then kissing you. Tasting us. Fresh sheets. Getting equally turned on watching you get dressed vs watching you get undressed. When we’re done, cleaning you as an act of service. Submission. A routine that brings order to a chaotic life. If I tell you how crucial this is to my well-being, will you look down on me?

Libra Mars

Fluid. Fluidity in our movements. You first, then me. Close your eyes if you like. There’s no rush. I like being here with you. Who said romance was dead? Wants and desires expressed with you in mind. Sleepy sex. In the throes of passion, you still look like a masterpiece. Can’t get enough. Delicate petals of a rose. Instinctively knowing how to get you off. Licking my lips. And then licking you down there. Playing with you with finesse. How does this feel? Dressing up, just for you. A breathy sigh released in the crook of the neck. Scented candles. Not knowing where each other begins and ends. Not caring. A true union of souls. Sharing this helps me to forget about inner turmoil, if only for a little while.

Scorpio Mars

Enticement. Pupils full and unblinking. Space between us lasts for a second. Who are we kidding? Sharing oxygen. Sucking on your bottom lip. Eyes on me. That’s not a request. Wanting to watch you fall apart. A wet trail left by a tongue. Those kinds of toys. Do you trust me? Show me how much. Fingers pressed into the skin, hard. A ghostly handprint on the skin flashes on the surface of the skin for a heartbeat. Teeth tease the throb of a pulse point. Blood rushing. Be brave enough to discover the intensity of my feelings and be sucked under. Only to rise up in levels in consciousness of a spiritual plane. Love is transformational. I’m willing to show you what you do to me. Don’t run.

Sagittarius Mars

Free rein. Sex with the possibility of being exposed. Down for whatever. Bluntness. Desires expressed with no shame. A finger over the lips. Playing to win. Feeling energized when rolling around the sheets. Nothing is off limits. Fantasies coming true. No strings attached. Watch me do you. Laughter as foreplay. Relax with me. You may have tried this position before but with me it’s different. Let’s get physical. A work out. Kissing you to muffle your screams. Messy hair. Messy sheets. How did this end up in the bed? Mundane details of life losing their importance when we’re together. Feeling the strength coursing through the thighs. I would risk getting caught with you.

Capricorn Mars

A hand on your waist in public, a hand on your throat in secret. Trust me, it feels better when you wait. Limits pushed. Burning up. Debauchery. I won’t tell. It’s our little secret. Experience is a turn on. Standards are a turn on. A sense of control. Mastery. I know this game in and out. Sex is all about power at the end of the day. Soft bristles of a whip, barely brushing the spine. I know how to do this with my eyes closed. How do you feel about blindfolds? Vulnerability. Replaying these moments, we share in inappropriate places. Seductive e-mails. Legs pressed tightly together. Having power over you is an accolade I hold close to my heart, not something I take for granted.

Aquarius Mars

Electric. Electricity when our fingers touch. Permission to be one’s free, authentic self. A non-judgement zones. Non-physical forms of affection. I’m open to trying something new with you. Inviting other people into the picture but only you can make me feel this way. Incorporating technology to add a new flavor. Feeling closer to you in group sex. Conversations intermingling within the very act of sex. Noses brushing against each other faintly. Deep eye-contact feels orgasmic. Hearing soft vibrations in the air before you feel it. Swirling galaxies. My thoughts are consumed by you nowadays, but I’m OK with that.

Pisces Mars

Altered states of consciousness. The bliss that comes when feeling wholly accepted. Complete adoration. Eyes locked. A desire to merge together. Skinny-dipping under the cloak of the night. Who cares if we get caught. No restrictions. A transcendent experience. Artistic nudes. A photo album on my phone. Dedicated to you. Boundaries teased. Biting my lip to control myself but failing. Kisses on the forehead. Reverence. I can morph into whoever you want me to. Kissing you, but my eyes are open. Moments of silence. Desires expressed without words. The sweetest dreams. Every time feels like a little death, only to be reborn again.  

[skylarmoon71]

Harrison Wells (Flash) - Oneshot

Harry has always been a bit of a distant person. Even though Team Flash was his family, there were still parts of his life that he kept from all of you. In a way you understood that. What happened with Jesse was an eye opener. You understood why he was always protective and guarded. 

That was years ago. 

Despite the progress made, you still felt like he was keeping something. It started a couple weeks ago after his trip back to earth 2. He returned much like he always did. Telling stories of Jesse and her team of heroes. Then of the new inventions he supervised when he had the time. He’d have his little arguments with Cisco and bicker about tech. But then on certain days, he wouldn't show up to the lab. He’d come back agitated and anxious. 

Tonight was the night. You were going to get the bottom of it. 

You’d snuck off to one of the empty rooms and decided to stake out Harry. Everyone pretty much left, and you knew if he saw you hanging around he would make some excuse as to why he wanted to be alone. 

It was already after nine. Peeking your head out, you ventured towards his quarters. 

“Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious.” 

You smiled at the thought, and when you broke the corner, you noticed his door was ajar. Tilting your head, you moved closer. The soft groans from the other side confused you. 

“Harry? Are you okay?” 

You pushed the door open, and you were stunned at the scene of a shirtless Harry. His hands were braced on the desk, and he was sweating. His glasses were gone and he appeared to sniff the air, turning around so quickly you were surprised he didn’t get whiplash.  

“(Y/N)..” 

Was it just you or did he growl?

“You have to leave.” His voice was strained and he looked angry. Now you are very concerned. You stepped inside, closing the door as you glared. 

“I’m not leaving here until you tell me what’s going on. Start talking.” Your voice was firm. 

You felt a bit proud for standing your ground. At least you would have been. You blink, and it all seems unreal. Harry is by your side in a matter of seconds. Before you even have a chance to voice your surprise, your hands are slammed to the door. They are pinned. 

“H-Harry!” 

You aren’t sure what to do, because he’s strong. Unnaturally strong. He releases another growl and you swallow. You push your hips to try and get free of him, but nothing is working. His hips move forward, and now you’re completely bound. You whimper, more so when his tongue darts out and he licks your neck. The next thing you feel is his teeth piercing your skin and you cry out. Blood drips from the fangs that have penetrated you, and Harry guzzles the liquid. He gulps twice, and when he finally pulls back, you slide down the door, hand moving to your neck in shock. 

His eyes are dark. You can hardly see his irises. When they do become visible, you can see the hungry expression of his gaze change to confusion, then guilt and worry. He staggers back. 

“(Y/N)...” 

There’s fear in his tone, and you frown. What he expects is for you to run off in terror. What he gets is a completely different reaction. 

“SIT DOWN AND TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY BIT ME!! YOU BETTER HOPE IT DOESN’T LEAVE A MARK!!” 

Harry winces. 

Maybe he would have preferred you running off in fear.

~~~

“You were bitten by a vampire bat and you didn’t think to tell us?!” 

Harry frowns, watching the piece of gauze taped to your neck. 

“I had it under control. I was reckless on my last mission. I wasn’t the only one infected. I’ve managed to cure all the other explorers, but it seems my illness progressed further than I realized. It’s taken me longer to produce the antidote for my mutation. “ 

“Of course it is!! Damn it my neck hurts!!” 

Harry’s head lowers. 

“I’m..sorry. I really am. I thought that I had it controlled. The injections work for a few weeks but they are only temporary. That’s why I’ve been keeping a distance during three week intervals. “ 

His crestfallen expression makes you feel guilty. This isn’t really his fault. It’s obvious that when it happened he tried to heal everyone first. That’s just the kind of person he is. He’d put himself in harm’s way for others. 

You sigh.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry for yelling. I was just so mad. This whole time I’ve been so worried. It’s aggravating that after all this time you still don’t trust us. If you have a problem you can lean on us. We’re your family Harry.” 

He knows that, of course he does. It’s just second nature for him to retreat and solve the problem on his own. Some habits were hard to break.

“I’m going to come clean. I’ll tell Ramon and the others everything in the morning.” 

You smile.

“Thank you.” 

Now that you’ve settled that situation, you need to get back to the task at hand. It’s not just your imagination, his face looks a bit pale. 

“Harry.” 

He knows that tone. 

“I’m fine. I just got careless. I miscalculated the dosage. I was trying to make more of the temporary sedative.” Your eyes shift to the table. There’s a few liquids and a mixer. 

“You were working on it, that’s why you were down here?”

He nods, and you can see the small droplets of sweat gathering on his forehead. His chest is still exposed. 

“I’m missing an ingredient and I..I don’t think I’m strong enough to get it.” He admits. 

“Does my blood help?” 

His fists tightened in his lap and you can see the way he turns his head. It looks like he’s taking a deep breath, when he exhales, it’s shaky. 

“Don’t..say that to me.” 

This is a serious situation. It’s not like you have a lot of options. He’s hurting, possibly dying and without this ingredient who knows what will happen. 

“Tell me how I can help you. I’m not going to sit here and watch you in pain. So either you tell me or I’ll take matters into my own hands.” You place your hand on the bandage and he rushes over. You jolt when he grabs your hands from your sitting position. You’ve noticed that this has come with its own little kicks. Because he’s faster and stronger than before. 

“Okay..okay.” He sounds breathless, and he guides you back to the couch. You both take a seat, and you wait expectantly. His cheeks are flushed. 

“My..my urges are stronger. Contrary to popular belief I don’t need all of your blood. I don’t even need a quarter of it. Half a glass is enough to stop the thirst for months. I’ve been running the numbers. I wanted to be safe in the event that I did lose control.” 

That does sound like him. 

“If it’s not fatal then it’s fine. I’ll just give you some blood and when you’re up to full strength you can make the antidote. Easy as pie.” 

He shakes his head. 

“Not easy as pie. Haven’t you noticed that I already took some of your blood. I should have been satiated already.”

He’s right.

“Then why didn’t it work?”

He looks a bit unsure of the right words to use.

“Because…it’s physical as much as it is chemical. The last time it got this bad I had a blood bag. But I needed another outlet otherwise it wouldn’t work.” 

You’re lost. 

“Then just spit it out, what do I have to do?”

He swallows. 

“I need you to help me..” He pauses. 

“Release.” 

Your brows knit. 

“Release. Release what?” 

His eyes move to you, and somehow you can read the answer to that question. 

Your cheeks burn.

“O-Oh!” 

That’s what he meant.

His head lowers in embarrassment. 

“I understand that this is asking a lot. It’s why I’ve been trying to solve this alone. You have no idea how humiliating this is.” He runs his hands through his hair. 

You get it. Harry is a naturally proud person. But this was next level. Of course he would run into a hole. 

“So the last time, did you get yourself off?” 

His head lifts and he looks at you shocked. 

“I-Is that really the question you’re asking right now!”  

You can’t help it, you’re curious. You reach for the bandage, and he’s about to protest, but the second it’s off, it’s like he’s lost all will to complain. He leans back against the couch, and you can’t help but appreciate how breathtaking he looks. Exposed and vulnerable. This is a man who always has it together. The sight before you is probably never going to occur again in this life. 

It would be a lie to say you aren’t a bit excited. It’s a bit of a secret, but you do have feelings for this man. Despite his standoffish attitude, he’s a good person. Even when he tries to hide it. 

“Tell me how to help.” It’s a whisper, and Harry bites down on his lip. He’s too weak to fight you any longer. Both verbally and physically. 

“Climb on top of me.” 

The statement brings a new kind of excitement. You nod, moving over to straddle his hips. His breathing is still a bit staggered as he drinks in the sight of you. You lower your hips, looking down at him. 

“Is this okay?” 

He nods. 

“It’s perfect.” His hands move to your hips as he leans forward, and you squeak when you feel something hard poking you between your thighs. Harry lets out a hiss, hands moving up your back. You nearly lose yourself when his lips move to your neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Can I take off your shirt?” 

He asks softly against your ear. You agree with a huff, and his hands slide along the edge, pulling it slowly over your head. It drops at the side, and he pulls back to admire. You feel a bit self conscious under his gaze. You refuse to look directly at him. But he guides your gaze and when those eyes meet your own, any insecurity jumps right out the window. 

“I need.to drink..” 

You almost forgot the whole point of this. 

“Y-Yes of course.” 

You try to remain completely still when his thumb brushes the bruise he’d left behind. There’s clearly hesitance. You can feel it in his touch, see it in his eyes. 

“Nothing is going to happen to me.” You reassure him. Harry would forever be stubborn. You smile, running your hand down his neck when he finally leans in. His tongue touches your skin, and when those fangs meet, this time you’re prepared. A little sound still leaves your lips. You can hear him drinking, and it’s strangely arousing. Your legs are shaking and he pulls away after a few seconds, licking the excess blood both along your skin and on his lips. His eyes hold what you can describe as raw desire. You can still feel him between your legs. Harry grips your thighs, and you moan when he pulls you closer. The friction is too good. 

“Grind on me.” 

It sounds like an order. 

One you’re happy to oblige to. You hold unto him, and your bare chest touching is better than any fantasy you could have conjured. You press your hips down, rocking to a steady rhythm. Every time his member touches your core, you think you’ll explode right there. Harry is barely keeping it together himself. He holds you to him, determined to reach the release you’re both craving. His deep moans are ringing in your ear, and you can’t seem to stop your own. You want to be free of your clothes. You want to feel more. When he sees you reaching for the button of your pants, he grabs your hand. 

“I-I can’t..” 

He sounds like he’s holding himself back. You manage a desperate sob. You need more. You’re so close. 

He reaches for you, pulling you in for a kiss, and that seems to be the weight that breaks the dam. Your tongues are colliding desperately, and he’s still thrusting against you even after you’ve reached your limit. His own follows, and he pulls back with a groan. You’re both panting, struggling to catch your breath. You’re still gathering yourself, but you can see the color begin to return to his face. He’s beginning to look like himself and you laugh, slumping against his body.

“Vampires rule.” You mutter. 

Harry lets out a soft laugh of his own. 

[basicallywhiterice]

after the round (epilogue) (mark lee)

If you’re not his first and he’s not your last, then he’ll be your worst and you’ll be his best.

pairing: mark lee x reader

genre: fluff. college!au, exes to lovers!au, debate!au

summary: Stealing kisses, sweeping debate competitions, sharing dreams—for the first time—with someone who understands: being with Mark is being alive, basking in his radiance when you know you can’t linger. But how do you say goodbye when you haven’t left yet? In the end, you’ll never be kids again—and yet the path ahead is so uncertain. Can’t you stay with him for a little longer?

word count: 819

warnings: none

a/n: this is a standalone fic, but it’s part 6/6 of the growing pains series. alternatively titled: in which i mean more than i say but maybe i don’t say enough. but i like how it turned out, and this concludes the series! thank you for reading and allowing me to share this story with you.

1 year later

You first regret your decision to ride the bus approximately two minutes into the trip.

“To the right—no, my right, idiot—UP! UP!”

“Chenle,” you sigh, poking your head into the aisle. “You’re screaming into my ear.”

“Sorry,” he replies at a much more reasonable volume before returning to his video game with Jisung, and you settle into your seat. A long day of judging this year’s state championship awaits you, the time in between rounds spent catching up with your old teammates and offering support. You see a few old faces from other schools—Ryujin, home for summer break, and Yedam, wrapping up his gap year—and many more new ones. Jaemin arrives around nine a.m. on the second day, and you have enough time to catch up and judge the same PF round before you see Mark.

From a distance, he almost passes as a stranger, but the curve of his smile is still unfailing familiar, and you see it grow as he walks over.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Jaemin leaves in the middle of your conversation about college life and majors, but the mood doesn’t sour or turn awkward. You and Mark are just two people, and you think that in this instance, it’s more powerful than being two ex-lovers.

“Yeah, I’ve been enjoying learning more about some parts of business too, actually,” he says after you describe how your Business Law professor piqued your interest. “I was wrong to butt heads with my parents so quickly. I’m really interested in—”

“Mergers and acquisitions?” You can’t help yourself.

“No, business ethics. I’m thinking of switching to an anthro minor to make philosophy one of my double majors instead.”

“Huh.” You must sound evidently impressed, for Mark smirks a little, but it’s devoid of smugness. “That’s really cool. You could be a good astronaut, y’know. You have the brains and the morals.”

“I’ll be sure to remember those qualities when NASA comes calling,” he grins.

You smile at him for a moment too long. “Will you stay for awards?”

“I could potentially, yeah. Will you?”

“Probably not. I was thinking of heading back.”

“Oh. Do you need a ride? Are you in a hurry to get home? I can drive you back.”

He looks nervous in his confidence—wide eyes, squared shoulders, and hands stuffed in his pockets. He looks different, but lovely all the same.

And the weight of everything that went wrong hinges upon your answer—but you’re okay now. If you say yes to his offer, it will not be because you are still in love with him, or because you want to love him again, because neither explanation is true. You’re strong. You’re different. He’s changed. You’ll be fine if you get heartbroken a second time, and you’ll be okay if you choose to walk away.

“That’d be nice, Mark.”

The conversation to his car is light. You discuss summer plans, how your internship is starting in a week, and what he looks forward to the most about his job at a nearby museum.

“You said you’ll be here the entire summer?” he asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Yeah,” you reply. “After the internship ends, I’m staying at home for two weeks before school starts.”

“That’s cool. I’ll be in-state until the week before school.”

You nod, lapsing into silence and unsure if you’re accurately deciphering his intentions, until he hesitantly speaks up again, carefully enunciating each syllable. “I… missed you, and I think that I’m a better person than I was last year.”

You observe his face carefully. His face is free of the harsh tension it carried in high school, replaced with something less youthful but more peaceful. College looks good on him, like it’s given him a life more fulfilling than he ever imagined in his dreams, like his life on the other side of the country is completely different from yours but has taught him the same lessons that you’ve learned.

Mark doesn’t rush you, just drives while you sit and reflect and choose the best words to respond with.

“Slow down,” you finally decide. “Take me out to dinner first, and then we can see.”

“How about getting dinner now, once we get back in town? If you don’t need to be somewhere, that is.”

You like that he’s direct this time around, that he’s clear with his intentions and doesn’t let you hide. “I’d like that.”

He smiles broadly. “Hey, what happened to being in a hurry to get home?”

“What happened to staying for awards?” you fire back.

“Touché.”

“So,” you clarify. You’re not nervous, just excited, because what is there to be scared about? “Dinner—just dinner. If that’s where it ends, then that’s it. And if not, we… see how it goes, I guess.”

“It’s a deal,” he agrees, and the way he says it makes it sound like it could be a beginning.

[reflectionsofneptune]

little things about the Mars Signs

18+ 

little, dreamy things I associate with sex and the Mars signs in Astrology. 

Aries Mars

Rawness. A strong grip. Tugging a lock of hair when it gets too much. A thin line between pain and pleasure. Nails scratching down a back because of frustration. A build up. Taunts. Deliberately causing arguments because make-up sex with you feels so good. Will you take the bait? Sex feeling new each time. A fast rhythm. Confidence. Advancing towards you. Feeling protective over you. An urge to KO anyone who looks at you for more than 2 seconds. Warrior urges instigated. Persistence got me this far in life, let me show you how it works for me.

Taurus Mars

Pressure. A slow burning warmth that licks up the body. We have all the time in the world.  Every part of the body exposed to a kiss, a touch, a breath of air. Flickering of orange flames in a fireplace. A feeling of pure, unabashed sensuality when naked. Coolness of air which brushes the hairs on the back of the neck. Rooted in sexual energy. Slow and steady wins the race. Scented massages. Starting at the base of the neck. Feeling strength. Resilience. Flavoured condoms. Drunk on your love. How is it possible you taste sweeter every time? The smooth column of the throat. The shadows a sunset causes dancing. Seduction is like art to me, let me paint you a masterpiece. 

Gemini Mars

Curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, but the cat had nine lives. Opening up to try different things. Trying to do too many things at once. Falling on the floor so we stay there. A combination of arms and legs. Head cocked to one side. Observing you from a different angle. Slanted eyes. A feeling of pressure that’s quick but growing in acuteness. Busy hands. Roaming fingers. Lights on or off it doesn’t matter. I can still picture you. In my mind. With my eyes closed. You’re a permanent imprint on my psyche. My desire resides on the mental plane. Whispering all the things I want to do to you. Biting an ear lobe. Wanting to learn about every inch of your body. Tell me your fantasies and watch how fast I bring it to you in real time.

Cancer Mars

Baby. But I can take control. It depends how I feel. An emotionally charged touch. Hearts in sync. A vivid imagination. Role-playing. Wearing that outfit I know has that effect on you. Playing coy. If I’m feeling sad, I might insist we stay wrapped in each other’s arms, just for a while. Is that OK? A stormy kind of desire. Waking up to kisses. Not wanting to sleep because this moment is all I ever dreamed of. This feels like home. Checking in with you. A sensitive kind of love. Hold me tight. So tight I can’t breathe. Only then will it feel right. TLC. Crying before, during and after sex. I can’t help it. A sudden wave of desire, greedy in nature. Strong feelings of lust. My fervour for you is bottomless, this is but a small representation of its total expression.

Leo Mars

Doing it in the mirror so I can show you how beautiful you look. Don’t be shy. Rose petals on the bed. Even more rose petals on the floor. I wanna perform for you. An effortless performance, start to finish. This is what you signed up for. Let me deliver my end of the deal. Pride in the bedroom. Forgetting about past lovers. At the moment of release, saying my name soothes the lion inside that bares it’s teeth when you’re underneath me. Aggression. Feeling royal together. Round one barely took the edge off. Leaving my mark on you. The bedroom feels like a hunting ground. Running isn’t an option. Pleasure in all its forms. Can you tame the beast?

Virgo Mars

Acting reserved in public but it’s a different story behind closed doors. Who knew? Not afraid to get dirty with you. Voyuerism. Less stress. Surrendering to pleasure and not feeling guilty for it. Peace with the imperfection of this ritual. Perfection out of the window. Lust making a direct entrance, front and centre. Tasting you. And then kissing you. Tasting us. Fresh sheets. Getting equally turned on watching you get dressed vs watching you get undressed. When we’re done, cleaning you as an act of service. Submission. A routine that brings order to a chaotic life. If I tell you how crucial this is to my well-being, will you look down on me?

Libra Mars

Fluid. Fluidity in our movements. You first, then me. Close your eyes if you like. There’s no rush. I like being here with you. Who said romance was dead? Wants and desires expressed with you in mind. Sleepy sex. In the throes of passion, you still look like a masterpiece. Can’t get enough. Delicate petals of a rose. Instinctively knowing how to get you off. Licking my lips. And then licking you down there. Playing with you with finesse. How does this feel? Dressing up, just for you. A breathy sigh released in the crook of the neck. Scented candles. Not knowing where each other begins and ends. Not caring. A true union of souls. Sharing this helps me to forget about inner turmoil, if only for a little while.

Scorpio Mars

Enticement. Pupils full and unblinking. Space between us lasts for a second. Who are we kidding? Sharing oxygen. Sucking on your bottom lip. Eyes on me. That’s not a request. Wanting to watch you fall apart. A wet trail left by a tongue. Those kind of toys. Do you trust me? Show me how much. Fingers pressed into the skin, hard. A ghostly handprint flashes on the surface of the skin for a heartbeat. Teeth tease the throb of a pulse point. Blood rushing. Be brave enough to discover the intensity of my feelings and be sucked under. Only to rise up in levels in consciousness on a spiritual plane. Love is transformational. I’m willing to show you what you do to me. Don’t run.

Sagittarius Mars

Free rein. Sex with the possibility of being exposed. Down for whatever. Bluntness. Desires expressed with no shame. A finger over the lips. Playing to win. Feeling energised when rolling around the sheets. Nothing is off limits. Fantasies coming true. No strings attached. Watch me do you. Laughter as foreplay. Relax with me. You may have tried this position before but with me it’s different. Let’s get physical. A work out. Kissing you to muffle your screams. Messy hair. Messy sheets. How did this end up in the bed? Mundane details of life losing their importance when we’re together. Feeling the strength coursing through the thighs. I would risk getting caught with you.

Capricorn Mars

A hand on your waist in public, a hand on your throat in secret. Trust me, it feels better when you wait. Limits pushed. Burning up. Debauchery. I won’t tell. It’s our little secret. Experience is a turn on. Standards are a turn on. A sense of control. Mastery. I know this game in and out. Sex is all about power at the end of the day. Soft bristles of a whip, barely brushing the spine. I know how to do this with my eyes closed. How do you feel about blindfolds? Vulnerability. Replaying these moments we share in inappropriate places. Seductive e-mails. Legs pressed tightly together. Having power over you is an accolade I hold close to my heart, not something I take for granted.

Aquarius Mars

Electric. Electricity when our fingers touch. Permission to be one’s free, authentic self. A non-judgement zone. Non-physical forms of affection. I’m open to trying something new with you. Inviting other people into the picture but only you can make me feel this way. Incorporating technology to add a new flavour. Feeling closer to you in group sex. Conversations intermingling within the very act of sex. Noses brushing against each other faintly. Deep eye-contact feels orgasmic. Hearing soft vibrations in the air before you feel it. Swirling galaxies. My thoughts are consumed by you nowadays, but I’m OK with that.

Pisces Mars

Altered states of consciousness. The bliss that comes when feeling wholly accepted. Complete adoration. Eyes locked. A desire to merge together. Skinny-dipping under the cloak of the night. Who cares if we get caught. No restrictions. A transcendent experience. Artistic nudes. A photo album on my phone. Dedicated to you. Boundaries teased. Biting my lip to control myself but failing. Kisses on the forehead. Reverence. I can morph into whoever you want me to. Kissing you, but my eyes are open. Moments of silence. Desires expressed without words. The sweetest dreams. Every time feels like a little death, only to be reborn again.  

| little thoughts about the mercury placements

| little thoughts about the venus placements

| little thoughts about the saturn placements

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin goes missing, and they find him in chains, looking blank:

Stories of the great power of Emrys have been spreading. But Merlin is still young, and though powerful, control alludes him, from time to time. What happens when those who crave power for themselves take that control from him? By force?

Part 2(final part)

TW: Graphic ish descriptions of violence/blood.

(This was requested a while ago, mind control being broken by the power of friendship)

Merlin was meant to be on a three day trip to gather some rare herbs for Gaius.

The former manservant thought that it was quite ironic, how “herb picking” had been one of his most often used excuses (after “the tavern”) for where he disappeared to when he was still hiding his magic, but now he was Court Sorcerer, Gaius actually made him do it.

This just meant that no one immediately panicked when he wasn’t back by sundown on the third day.

All knew how capable Merlin was. None of the Druid advisors had been sent a message through the link, and an irate dragon hadn’t shown up asking for help.

Meaning he probably just got lost or distracted; lost track of time. He’d be home by noon the next day, prattling on about something he’d seen, or someone he’d spoken to.

Gaius would give him a raised eyebrow and Arthur would punch him in the arm and he’d be all indignant, insisting that “I can look after myself, and honestly Arthur, I was only gone an extra half day, no need to be so panicked.” with a smirk.

When he still wasn’t back before sundown on the fifth day, The Gang started to really worry. They gather in the council room, just the nine of them (the five knights, Arthur, Gaius, Gwen, Morgana) to try to come up with some sort of explanation, or if needed, a plan.

Morgana speaks first, and the uncertainty on her face heightens the anxiety in everyone:

“I’ve tried looking for him, sensing him, but I can’t feel him at all. Like he’s completely disappeared from the world-”

At that, Arthur interrupts her, panic showing on his face, and his voice shaking:

“You don’t mean?-”

Morgana widens her eyes at the meaning the others had taken from her words:

“NO! No, not that, if he were... dead, I would feel that. I would be able to find his… I would be able to find him, and feel a sort of echo, feel the recent effects he’s had on the world around him. But I don’t, I just feel…. nothing. Like he never existed in the first place.”

Everyone looks extremely troubled at that. Morgana wasn’t nearly as powerful as Merlin, but he had been teaching her, and she was getting stronger. If this feeling of absence worried her, then it worried all of them.

Gaius speaks up after a few moments of silence:

“We could ask the Druids? They have a strong, permanent bond to him. It may help in finding him. If not…”

Arthur nods firmly as he replies to the room:

“If not, we track him down the old fashioned way. We managed before, we might just have to manage again now.”

The others nod at that, determined to not let Merlin down.

(Not let Merlin down again. None of them (other than Gaius, Lancelot, and Morgana of course) had reacted all that well to Merlin’s magic when they first learned the truth. And whilst that was years ago, and Merlin claimed to have forgiven them all immediately, they still felt guilty for the way they’d treated him in those first few hours/days.)

As it turns out, the three Druid advisors were equally worried, and had been in the process of hurrying to the council room to inform The King of the severed tie between themselves and Emrys, just as Arthur had decided to call for their presence.

The whole gang had to quell their panic, and remind themselves of Arthur’s words. They’d managed before, they would manage now.

At first light the next day, Arthur and the knights rode out. Morgana was left with the crown, with Gwen and Gaius as advisors to stay and support her.

The King tried to insist on leaving one or two of the knights behind as well, just in case, but they weren’t having it, and Morgana’s reminder of:

“Merlin is incredibly powerful, Arthur. If someone has been strong enough to subdue or hurt him, then you’ll need all the help you can get.”

-he reluctantly allowed all five of them to come.

Gaius had provided them with the directions, so they could start their search where Merlin was supposed to be, and go from there.

After a full day’s journey, they arrive at the first of two clearings, just before nightfall. After a thorough look around, they found that Merlin had in fact been there, but he left peacefully, and they found no sign that anyone else had travelled through recently.

So he hadn’t been taken from the first clearing. Arthur and Gwaine had wanted to push on through the night, the second of the two clearings was only a few hours away, but Leon gave them a stern look, and with support from the others, insisted that they rest for the night.

They could wake early and continue in the morning, but the horses (and the knights) were starving, and tired, and needed rest. They would be no use to Merlin at all if they turned up dead on their feet.

Elyan tried to volunteer for the first watch, but Arthur insisted he take it. No one really argued with him, they knew he wouldn’t sleep well anyway, not with Merlin missing, and potentially hurt.

Elyan did however wake up a few hours later (a pure coincidence, it definitely wasn’t because he asked Percival to cast a low-level enchantment that would wake him (I like to imagine that once things had settled, Merlin tries to teach the lads a little sorcery. Arthur is hopeless, as are Lancelot and Elyan, but Leon and Gwaine aren’t toooo bad, and Percival is fairly alright)) and insisted that The King get some sleep.

He didn’t like to do it often (Arthur’s head was already big enough) but Elyan did use a little flattery to his advantage:

“Come now, My Lord. You’re the strongest of all of us, and it’s your orders we follow, how can we expect to win if our leader can’t walk or think straight?”

Arthur mumbles something about how “Flattery won’t get you anywhere in court, Sir Elyan.” But dutifully allows himself to slip into a fitful rest.

As promised, they rise and pack up just before first light, choosing to eat whilst they ride out just as the sun rises over the horizon.

The second clearing they reach, tells a much different story to the first. The knights slow their horses down, and stare on in barely concealed horror at the scene laid out before them.

Merlin’s horse lay dead to the side of the clearing. They had clearly killed her deliberately so that Merlin couldn’t escape if he freed himself. That could be the only explanation. She wasn’t wearing her saddle, and was still tied to the tree: Merlin wasn’t riding her when the arrow was fired.

The ground was scorched almost entirely, and a few trees had been uprooted, with the remaining standing ones bearing scorch marks and sword scars higher than naturally possible.

Merlin had obviously fought back, but the small puddle of blood next to his dropped herb bag tells them that he had been injured before the fight even began. Whoever took him? Knew who he was.

After a moment of shocked silence, Arthur starts barking orders:

“Percival, check the horse and the herbs, try and figure out how long ago this happened. Gwaine, Elyan, Lancelot, have a good look around, try to find anything discarded by his attackers; we need to figure out who took him. See if you can learn how many there were, and how they attacked, we need to know if they themselves are magic, or if they just know how to fight magic. Me and Leon will check the surrounding areas to find out where they went. Leave your horses at the edge, we don’t want to muddy up any tracks.”

Everyone wordlessly nods, and they go about their tasks quickly but thoroughly. No wants to make any mistakes here, Merlin is incredibly important to them, and they couldn’t risk going in to this blind.

They work in silence, and once Arthur and Leon return from their scouting ahead thirty minutes or so later, they gather the horses once more and huddle at the edge of the clearing.

Arthur looks to Percival expectantly, and he reports his findings quickly:

“Going by the carcass and the herbs Merlin had already cut, this happened maybe four or five days ago? Considering he was obviously still picking, and not just dawdling-”

(he gestures to the bag that he had picked up and attached to his saddlebags)

“-I’d say he was taken in the afternoon of the second day.”

Arthur clenches his jaw at that, that was five days ago. Hopefully they hadn’t travelled too far, and weren’t still travelling, otherwise it would take far too long to track them down.

He looks to Lancelot next:

“We found two bodies, average, plain armour, and it didn’t look like anything had been taken from them after they died. One of them did have this in his pocket-”

He looks grim as he says this, and hands over a very crumpled piece of parchment. On it, there was a rough sketch of Merlin’s face, and the Pendragon crest. It was rough, old, clearly drawn from memory, but there could be no mistaking who it was.

Arthur looks angry at that, but tucks it into his saddlebag before gesturing for Lancelot to continue:

“I don’t think they used magic, at least not combative magic-”

He gestures around the clearing, at the scorch marks:

“All of the blows seem to be extending out from the middle, from where Merlin was stood: he fought back with magic, but they used normal weapons.”

Lancelot looks to Gwaine, and he wastes no time in telling the group what he found:

“There was a broken off arrow shaft next to Merlin’s bag, someone shot him. I couldn’t find the head, so it’s still in him most likely, we need to be prepared to clean an infection when we find him-”

Percival interrupts him:

“I had a look through his bag, there’s a lot of useful stuff in here, so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

Gwaine nods and lets out a sigh of relief before continuing:

“The arrow shaft stunk, and his blood was funky. I’m guessing they soaked it in mandrake or something to knock him out. Otherwise he would’ve decimated this lot. They would’ve only had to avoid his attacks for two or three minutes at most before he passed out. And even then, he wouldn’t have been all that coordinated.”

Everyone worries at this. Every new bit of information just tells them that whoever took Merlin knew exactly who he was, and what he was capable of.

Elyan speaks up next:

“Going from the tracks, I’d say there was six or seven others, not including our two corpses. They were spread evenly around the clearing so he could only attack at one at a time, all they had to do was aim one good shot, and wait it out. They may not have used magic to attack, but they must have hidden themselves somehow: there’s no way that Merlin wouldn’t have felt them coming, we’re in the middle of a forest, this is his domain.”

Arthur hums thoughtfully and nods, before speaking to the group:

“I agree with your assessment of seven other attackers. Me and Leon found a large group of tracks, from multiple people, coming from the North, but they split up and spread around the clearing about a quarter of a mile out. No has any idea who they were?”

Everyone shakes their heads, and Lancelot speaks once again:

“No. The armour was non-descript, the weapons left behind were nothing special. They had no tattoos, nothing of value on them, no defining marks, sigils, or crests. Nothing. Either they were randomly hired mercenaries, or they were clever enough to not carry anything that could identify them, or their masters.”

Arthur growls in annoyance and nods once again. The Knights all gather their horses and follow Arthur and Leon’s quick pace out of the clearing, towards the tracks they had found.

At Arthur’s instruction, they split into two groups, one following along about 10 feet to the left of the tracks, the other, the same to the right.

They needed to be careful, the group who had taken Merlin were obviously well informed professionals, and would know that it wouldn’t be long before someone came looking. They didn’t want to run into any traps or ambushes by following the exact same path the kidnappers had.

~

The Knights follow the trail for another couple of days, taking few breaks, and spending the majority of it in silence; not even Gwaine is being talkative.

A few hours into their tracking, there was another battle arena (though much smaller than the last).

They didn’t stick around for long, it was likely that the mandrake had worn off quicker than expected, and Merlin had tried to escape. Once they saw Lancelot turn pale as he picked up a bloody rock, they hurried their horses along the trail even faster than before.

It was around noon on the third day since they left the second clearing, that they notice the tracks getting significantly fresher: the kidnappers (who had been on foot, meaning the knights were making good time anyway) had slowed down; they must almost be there.

That evening, they finally came across what appeared to be a rundown farm. The roof of the house was caved in, and there wasn’t even one fully intact fence in the whole property. A large barn further to the back of the area however, was in good condition.

The tracks went all over the overgrown farm, but focused mainly around the barn (going no further than the edge of the property) and the Knights could see the flickering light of a fire glow through the gaps between planks of woods.

They tied their horses up a few metres in to the treeline. Normally having horses during the attack would be useful, but they were at least a four days journey from the capital (on horses, closer to two weeks on foot), and depending on the state Merlin is in, he may not be able to walk it. They needed to leave the horses undamaged and with energy enough to flee if they had to.

Arthur sends everyone off to scout the area, learn what they could, and they gather once more about five minutes later, hidden behind the rundown house to avoid being spotted.

Leon speaks first:

“I got as close as I could without being seen, there are about twenty-five men in there. I didn’t recognise any of them, and none of them had any identifying marks, but there was one man who was clearly in charge. Larger than the rest, had nicer clothes, a large key on a chain around his neck.”

Arthur perks up at that:

“Might unlock whatever is holding Merlin. Did you see him?”

Leon sighed and shook his head grimly:

“No, but the fire lit only the middle of the room, I couldn’t see in the corners or along the edges.”

Percival speaks next, quickly adding what he had learnt:

“There’s no one else in any of the other buildings, and no fresh tracks leading away from the area. Merlin must be in there with them.”

Leon hums in agreement before continuing:

“They weren’t... drunk. But they are drinking. It might be worth it to wait for a few more hours so we have more of an advantage. There’s only six of us remember, we-.”

Gwaine shakes his head roughly, interrupting:

“We can’t wait. Who knows what they’ve done to Merlin, but if they’re celebrating, and he isn’t fighting back, then it’s bad. We need to get him out of there as quickly as possible.”

Arthur hums thoughtfully as he thought through their options. Both of them had valid points, but the attackers wouldn’t go through all of this trouble just to kill Merlin, so he shouldn’t be in any imminent danger, and as much as he wanted to rescue him as soon as possible, they had to be careful.

He looks up at the group and replies confidently:

“We wait until the sun has disappeared completely. It should be no more than half an hour. That gives us the cover of darkness, and gives them time to lose a little more of their wits.”

Gwaine seems like he wants to argue, but a pointed look from Lancelot calms him, and the group go through the motions of checking their armour and weapons, preparing themselves fully for a difficult fight.

~

After spending the time preparing, and discussing their options, the group decided that the best plan was for them to split in to two.

Arthur, Elyan, and Gwaine were to rush through the large door at the front, and Leon, Percival, and Lancelot would sneak in through the small door at the back.

There was no way they would be able to hold on to the element of surprise for long, and it would be a difficult fight, but hopefully the first group would be distraction enough to allow the second group to kill at least a few people before they realised what was happening.

That, unfortunately, is not how things go.

After one last firm nod from Arthur, the group splits and heads as quietly as they can to their designated entrance. The King takes a deep breath before gesturing at Elyan, who pushes the door open with force, allowing Gwaine and Arthur to rush in without hesitation.

Elyan joins them, and they make a point to look at the enemy, so as not to draw attention to the other three sneaking in behind them.

It takes only a few seconds before Arthur realises something is wrong. None of the men seem angry, or even worried in the slightest, and as he spies Leon step silently forward to slit the throat of the man closest to him, he understands why.

Leon takes three steps fine, but on his fourth, he hits an invisible barrier, and is thrown back violently. He hits the wall with a crash, and falls to the floor, unconscious from the blow to his head.

The leader of the group glances briefly behind him before looking back to Arthur, amusement on his face. Arthur covers his confusion with anger, but before he can demand an explanation, the leader begins to speak:

“Looky here, boys! Kidnap one sorcerer, get six of Camelot’s finest knights free! That’s a pretty good deal if I do say so myself!”

The rooms breaks out into laughter, and Elyan takes a step forward, speaking in a dangerous tone:

“Well unfortunately, our sorcerer was not for sale. So if you would, we’d like him back.”

The leader chuckles once again, and the knights have to stop themselves going for an attack. Leon was just about starting to stir, and Lancelot stands protectively in front of him, waiting for the knight to right himself again.

“I’m not so sure he wants to be returned, good sir. I think you’ll find that he’s quite enjoying being under my service-”

He raises one hand and grips the ancient looking key that’s hanging around his neck, and looks to a darkened corner of the room before speaking again, louder this time:

“Isn’t that right, oh sorcerer of mine? Come here.”

The knights have to hold in a shudder at what they see.

Merlin, or what looks to be Merlin, judderingly walks out of the dark corner towards the key-holder. His left shoulder hangs oddly, and they can see the blood staining his clothes and dripping from his hand, leaving a trail on the floor. His feet drag across the ground, and his head nods and sways, like he is desperately trying not to collapse into unconsciousness. A wound on his temple still slowly seeps blood, and his hands shake.

He had a thick, metal collar around his neck, and two matching circlets around his wrists. Thick chains, the length of his arms, attach the cuffs to the collar (so that he still had full mobility, but all three circles of iron were connected), and as his body sways, the knights can see the skin beneath the metal has been rubbed raw, to the point of bleeding in some places.

But what was most striking, was the permanent golden glow of Merlin’s eyes, and the blank look on his face.

The golden colour didn’t quite match up to it’s normal hue, and seemed duller, sickly, somehow.

The knights stare on in horror as their friend, clearly not in control of his own actions, finishes his disjointed journey to his new master.

Arthur glares viciously at the man as he growls out:

“What have you done to-”

But before he can finish, a resounding thwack echoes around the room as a gauntleted hand connects with the side of Merlin’s face. 

The other bandits laugh as Merlin’s head rocks violently sideways. His head is angled towards the floor for just a moment before he looks back up at the leader, the blank look not having left his face, despite the blood now dribbling from his mouth and the dark bruise already forming on his cheek and jaw.

Gwaine lets out a growl, but before he can take a step forward, the leader speaks once again, a horrid grin on his face:

“Be a dear and subdue our new guests, sorcerer.”

Without hesitation, Merlin sidesteps the leader, giving him a direct line of sight to Lancelot, Leon, and Percival. He waves his hand at them, muttering something under his breath, and the three of them gasp as they lift off the floor, and go flying across the room towards the other knights.

Arthur only manages to widen his eyes in surprise before he’s bowled over by Percival, and before the group can react, they find themselves unarmed, and kneeling side by side; lined up in front of the leader, with Merlin’s hand extended towards them.

The bandits begin laughing once again, the leader the most uproarious of them all, as the knights struggle to break free from Merlin’s grasp.

Arthur is the only one who holds still, not resisting, as he tries to get Merlin to look at him, but the sorcerer isn’t paying any attention. It almost seemed like Merlin just... wasn’t present.  His body was stood in the barn, but his mind, his soul, were elsewhere, not even looking upon this earth, let alone stood in it.

Merlin’s blank face looks to the leader, and he doesn’t react at all as Arthur yells at him:

“Merlin! This isn’t you, he’s controlling you! You have to take back con-”

The leader interrupts him, his hand still gripping the slightly glowing key, as he directs himself to Merlin:

“Oh do shut them up, sorcerer.”

Merlin looks to the group once more, twisting his outstretched hand slightly. The knight’s voices are ripped form them suddenly, and silence permeates the barn for only a second before the bandits continue their laughter.

After a few minutes of the knights being unable to move or make any noise, the leader speaks up again:

“You know, sir knights,-”

He smacks Merlin again, in the same place as before, and the knights tense even more at their friend’s non-reaction:

“-I had thought, that the most fun part of having a pet sorcerer, would be the magic, and don’t get me wrong, it’s great, but-”

This time he aims a punch to Merlin’s abdomen. The Warlock bends over slightly, and takes a step back, before righting himself again, and returning to his original position:

“-I have discovered, in fact, that the most fun part is actually having a living punching bag, who can’t die as easy as the normal peasants and commoners I lay my hands on.”

He grins wickedly once more as he takes out a small dagger. The knight’s eyes all widen and they begin struggling even more against their magical bounds, as the leader drags the blade along Merlin’s outstretched arm.

The cut isn’t too deep, but it’s long, and bleeds enough for infection to be a definite worry.

Merlin’s head wavers slightly and his lip twitches, but he otherwise doesn’t move.

The leader looks to an almost tearful Arthur, and slowly, ever so slowly, pushes the blade into Merlin’s uninjured shoulder, as he grins:

“I wonder, sir knights, how much he can take.”

Arthur looks back to Merlin and sees him flinch, his face seeming more strained. Arthur hates himself for thinking it, but the more pain this jackass inflicts... the more aware Merlin seems to be becoming.

The glow in his eyes flickers, but only momentarily, and Arthur feels the ability to speak come back to him. He holds his breath for a moment, hoping that it’s just him (or that the others had the same idea as him). He lets it out a moment later when none of the knights make any noise.

He needs to pick his moment, wait until Merlin is most aware of his surroundings, before he tries to reach out to him.

It’s a difficult situation, a mix of not wanting Merlin to have to suffer, but also knowing that there is no way the knights could take him on. Not even with no other attackers to worry about. Not even with Merlin at partial strength. The only way for them to win this, is to get Merlin to come back to them.

The Knights watch on with horror, glares painted on their faces, as the leader removes the knife and steps away. He wipes the blood off the blade on Merlin’s clothes harshly, the pressure on his wound making the glow of his eyes flicker once again.

The arsehole looks to the rest of the grinning bandits, and yells:

“So, boys! Shall we see what our new pet can do? We have some lovely new test subjects after all!” A cheer goes up around the room, and the knights take in nervous breaths. They know what Merlin is capable of, and though he doesn’t show off his magic regularly, they’ve seen him angry, seen him when he has the least control of his magic; and right now, he has zero control. The only thing they could do is hope that this mercenary didn’t have a very vivid imagination.

At the bandit’s cheer, the leader turns around to sweep an assessing gaze over the knights. He hums thoughtfully, before waving his arm in Percival’s direction:

“He looks like a big guy, looks like he can take a lot. Break his arm for me, sorcerer.”

The others look to Percival in fear, but his only reaction is to take a deep breath, and clench his jaw.

Merlin tilts his head slightly, and moves his outstretched arm to be pointed at Percival. Arthur sees him swallow, and his hand shake slightly. He’s fighting it. The sorcerer stands still for just a moment, staring at a resolute Percival, but at the leader’s yell:

“DO IT!!”

-he closes his fist, quick as lightening, and a snap sounds out. Percival makes a pained face, but makes no noise as his arm hangs at his side.

Arthur casts a quick look at him, and is grateful for the lack of blood and odd angles. Merlin had managed to break his arm in the least damaging way possible.

Percival’s breath evens out, and he shakes the daze from his head before looking right at Merlin and saying:

“It’s alright, Merlin.” Arthur tenses slightly at that, but the bandit’s seem to be too drunk to notice the broken silence.

The leader bellows out again:

“Aw, well that was a little anti-climactic. Hmm... what about him-”

He gestures at Leon, who is now only slightly dazed, before continuing:

“-knock him out. Properly, this time.”

Merlin’s outstretched hand moves once again, pointing at Leon. Merlin hesitates for even longer this time. His hand shakes violently, and the glow in his eyes dulls (only slightly, but permanently this time) as Leon gives him a small smile, and nods at him.

The leader snarls before aiming a violent punch to Merlin’s side, before screaming:

“YOU ARE MINE!! STOP HESITATING YOU BEAST!″

This time, Merlin pulls his hand towards himself quickly, and Leon’s body tips forward. His head smacks off the floor with a sickening thud, and he doesn’t move from his place crumpled on the floor.

The others panic slightly at this, not being able to see Leon properly, but Arthur holds in a grin. He’s seen enough knights be knocked out to know that Leon was still conscious. Merlin had deliberately held back, cushioned his blow. There was no question that if he had really tried, Leon most certainly would have passed out, which means that Merlin is somewhat in control of his strength, if not his actions.

Arthur is grateful that Leon has the sense to lie still and keep his eyes closed. In order to remain convincing, The King plasters a sufficiently horrified look on his face as he looks from Leon to the Leader.

The man gives a satisfied hum, and turns to Lancelot, a loathsome smirk on his face:

“You, my friend, are far too calm for my liking. Let’s change that, shall we?”

The bandits let out yet another cheer (And Arthur is pleased to see that the majority of them are incredibly drunk at this point. He just needs Merlin to focus long enough for Arthur to grab the key) before he continues:

“Choke. Him. Out. I want to watch the life drain from his pathetically noble eyes. I want to see him panic as his breath is stolen from him. DO IT!”

Fear flash across Lancelot’s face, before he schools his features again. Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan do not manage to hide their panic at all, and Leon takes in an unnoticed deep breath from his place on the floor.

Arthur looks a tad worried, but this has got to be it. He knows how close Merlin and Lancelot are, there will be no better chance to try and break him from this pig’s control, he only needs a moment, and he can see Leon subtly preparing to pounce as well.

Merlin moves his arm to be pointed at Lancelot, and the knights can see their Warlock flinch slightly as Lancelot speaks a shaky smile on his face:

“It’s ok, Merlin, it’s not your fault.”

Merlin’s hesitation earns him a smack on the back of the head, and a second later, he turns his open hand to the ceiling. With that motion, Lancelot raises from the floor.

His hands go to his throat and his eyes widen a fraction as his feet kick, looking for purchase, but finding nothing.

Arthur gulps as he looks between Lancelot and Merlin, waiting for the last possible moment before he jumps into action.

The knights, thrash slightly trying to reach Lancelot as he begins to audibly choke. His legs kick more violently, and his face turns red, his eyes shut tight.

He manages to opens his eyes just a fraction, looking to Merlin and letting out a choked, barely audible:

“I... trust you... Merlin.”

Lancelot’s eyes close once again as his thrashing slows and he loses the last of the air in his lungs.

Arthur stares at Merlin intensely, and the moment a tear falls from his eye, he yells:

“Merlin, look at ME!”

The leader lets out an outraged yelp as Merlin drops his hand to his side, whipping his head around to stare at Arthur. Lancelot drops to the floor with a thud, and begins taking in sudden, deep breaths. The glow disappears briefly from Merlin’s eyes, and in that moment, he lifts a hand to his head, whispering “30 seconds”. The moment his fingers touch his temple, he crumples gracelessly to the floor.

Leon finally moves, jumping to catch Merlin before his heads makes contact with the floor and at the same time, Arthur leaps at the outraged Leader, tackling him to the floor roughly.

Percival moves to Lancelot, and quickly drags him, using his good arm, to the side of the room so that he can catch his breath. Gwaine and Elyan tackle the men who had been standing closest to them, and take their weapons, before moving quickly to stand above Arthur and The Arsehole (still wrestling on the floor).

Both of them hold their blades to his throat, and at his momentary hesitation, Arthur finally lands a good punch to his jaw, properly dazing him.

Arthur rips the chain from his neck and staggers back, leaving Gwaine and Elyan in front of him, not moving their weapons from the man’s neck.

All of this had happened in around five seconds, the knights following Arthur’s signal smoothly and in tandem (exactly like he had trusted they would), and the rest of the bandits too drunk to react quick enough.

The bandits had finally gathered themselves, and have their swords out and pointed at the gang, but before they could move forward, Elyan speaks:

“Take another step, and we’ll cut his throat.”

Arthur knew that that wouldn’t hold them for long. No honour among thieves, they didn’t care if he died because it just gave way for a power struggle, allowing one of them to come out on top as the new leader.

He glanced down at Merlin and Leon again before looking behind him to check on Lancelot and Percival. He counted in his head. Twelve seconds to go.

Elyan and Gwaine pulled the stuttering leader up by his clothes and drag him back. Gwaine stands behind him, his sword held across his throat, as Elyan takes his weapons from him and then moves to stand by Gwaine’s side.

Six seconds to go. Arthur isn’t really sure what he’s counting down to, but he trusts Merlin.

The bandits begin taking slow, drunken steps towards the gang once again. They may be pissed, but they also still vastly outnumber the knights, especially with Lancelot coughing his lungs out, Leon with at least a minor concussion, and Percival with a broken arm.

Three seconds... Two... One.

As the Arthur’s mental countdown reaches zero, he turns his head to check on Merlin, at the same time as the sorcerer opens his eyes once again.

His eyes shine bright golden once again (though still not quite normally), so brightly that Leon and Arthur have to shield their eyes for a moment. That moment is all it takes for the bandits to take action, and they surge towards the gang.

Gwaine pushes their leader into them, and his large form knocks two of them over. Gwaine and Elyan are the only ones who have weapons, so they hold off the first of the attackers as best they can. Percival picks up a still struggling Lancelot, and Leon and Arthur grab an arm each of Merlin. The five of them rush outside, and once Arthur yells back at them, Gwaine and Elyan turn and follow them. They shut the door quickly behind them, and Lancelot is dropped the floor, Merlin left standing blankly, as the rest of them throw their collective weight against the door. Percival speaks first, holding his broken arm to his chest, and bracing his shoulder against the middle of the door:

“Why isn’t... ugh... why isn’t he doing anything??”

Lancelot looks up from his place on the floor, and staggers to his feet, leaning on (a still blank) Merlin for support. He taps his face slightly and squeezes his hand, but still the sorcerer doesn’t react. His hand brushes against the cold metal of one of the cuffs, and he looks back to Arthur, still coughing lightly:

“He’s still bound! Please tell me you managed to hold on to that key?!”

Arthur nods, and Lancelot stumbles over, pressing his weight against the door with the others as another shove is felt from the other side. They wouldn’t be able to do this for long, the bandits were becoming more and more coordinated.

Elyan speaks up:

“We don’t have... no time to uncuff him, you’re in control Arthur just tell him to kill them or knock... or knock them out!”

Arthur looks angry at that, and shakes his head violently:

“No, I won’t take that control from him. I won’t.”

Leon yells next, his words slightly slurred, but understandable:

“You have no choice, Arthur. Just something simple!”

Arthur growls, and huffs as another, much harder shove hits the door. The gang almost stumbles back, but they brace themselves against the door once more, and Arthur shouts:

“Fine! Merlin, protect us!”

Without even a second’s hesitation, Merlin raises his hand towards them, and then pulls towards him. The knights all find themselves flying away from the barn, but land on their feet a few feet behind Merlin. 

The barn door opens with a crash, the first three men falling forward, but quickly being trampled on by their... co-workers... as they escape the building. Before they can make it far however, Merlin throws up his other hand, muttering something under his breath, and all of them are stopped, frozen in place.

Merlin keeps his hand stretched out towards them, and the knights hear one of them go “oh shit” under their breath, as the realisation crosses their faces.

The Warlock’s face remains blank, and after a few moments of the knights catching their breath, Arthur steps forward hesitatingly:

“Merlin?-”

Merlin tilts his head slightly, but doesn’t turn to look at him and Arthur gulps, and moves around to stand in front of him. He holds the key in one hand, and grips Merlin’s arm with the other, he speaks over Merlin’s shoulder to the others:

“I don’t see a keyhole or anything. How do I get this thing off him?!”

The knights shrug and move forward, examining the iron from a distance. Gwaine speaks first:

“Well, Merlin would know, right? Ask him.”

Arthur frowns slightly, he is really not liking this, but none of them have seen anything even slightly similar to this before:

“Merlin, do you know how to release yourself from this?” as he speaks, he shakes one of the chains, and hears the bandits behind him begin squeaking in fear.

Merlin still doesn’t look directly at him, staring straight ahead, eyes still glowing, one hand still outstretched, but he does give a slow nod.

Arthur gulps once more, and takes Merlin’s lowered hand. He presses the key into his palm, holding his hand over it and quietly says:

“Do it. Take it off.”

Merlin mutters something else, forcing the barrier he had placed around the bandits to stay in place. He closes his hand around the key, and without looking, touches the end of the key to the cuff on his other wrist. A hole opens up in the metal, and he pushes the key in, twisting only slightly before the cuff falls off his wrist entirely, still dangling by the chain attached to the collar.

The glow in his eyes instantly dims a bit, and he takes a staggered step back. He shakes his head slightly, and the key swaps hands. He does the same to the other cuff.

He falls to his knees, shaking, and the knights step forward to support him. He slowly lifts the key to the collar, and the same thing happens a third time. As the collar falls to the floor, the glow in his eyes flashes it’s normal, healthy colour, before disappearing entirely.

His blue eyes find Arthur’s momentarily, just long enough for Arthur to smile at him and nod. That’s all the convincing that “everything is ok” Merlin needs, and he promptly passes out, slumping forward.

Arthur just about catches him, and looks over his own shoulder panicked, thinking that with Merlin unconscious, the barrier would disappear.

It would appear that Merlin had thought of that, even in his state, and the barrier stayed in place, leaving Arthur and the knights to let out breaths of relief.

Now everyone has had time to catch their breath, and Merlin was free, they had a moment to realise how furious they were.

Gwaine looks ready to slaughter every man there, and every person they’ve ever spoken to, and even Lancelot looks pissed.

Arthur gathers Merlin up in his arms, carrying him bridal style and looks to the others:

“Grab our weapons from inside, quickly, we need to get out of here, I don’t know how long that's going to hold, or how long Merlin will be out. We need to get him to Gaius, and bring that... thing.”

He gestures to the set of cuffs still sat in the grass, and Leon steps forward to pick them up. Elyan and Gwaine stand guard in front of Arthur and Merlin, (still being the only ones who are actually armed) and Lancelot and Percival rush around the group of bandits, still frozen in place, and through the door into the barn.

They come out not even a minute later with everyone’s swords, and hand them out. Merlin begins to stir, and Arthur spares him a quick glance before gesturing back towards where they left the horses.

The group huddles together, Arthur with Merlin protected at the back, pointing their weapons at the bandits as they shuffle back, moving as quickly as they could, not daring to move their gazes from the kidnappers.

Merlin stirs once more, but settles quickly, probably still a while from waking up, and the group reaches the treeline before they begin to pick up the pace.

They finally reach their horses, and Gwaine quickly helps Arthur load Merlin up in front of The King, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder. 

Leon wraps the cuffs in a spare tunic before shoving them into a saddlebag, and the group takes one last look behind them, before galloping back in the direction of Camelot.

If they went by the crow flies, instead of detouring to those clearings, they could be back in three days, instead of the four and a half it had taken them to get here.

~

They ride through the night, trying to get as far away as possible, not taking any breaks, and only stopping to make camp a few hours after midnight.

Elyan splints and wraps Percival’s arm, Leon drinks plenty of water and tries not to pass out, and Lancelot coughs the whole journey, but other than that, there seems to be no lasting damage or serious injuries.

They have little food left, but (despite no one being willing to admit it) they were all a little shaken, and none were prepared to leave camp to hunt or forage for anything more substantial.

Merlin had stirred a few more times, and opened his eyes briefly when Arthur laid him on his bedroll, but it didn’t last long, and he was passed out again shortly after.

The King massages some water down his throat, has Elyan help him with digging out the arrowhead, and follows Percival’s instructions on which of the herbs Merlin had gathered would help best with pain, infections, and larger wounds. The arrow and stab wounds were stitched and thoroughly cleaned, before Arthur moved on to the less serious wounds: checking his jaw to see if it was broken (it wasn’t, thank the Gods), and dressing the burns and bruises on his neck and wrists. The head wound wasn’t serious thankfully, only requiring a thorough cleaning, and two stiches.

Leon takes the first watch with Arthur, on account of not being allowed to fall asleep just yet, but there isn’t much conversation as they watch their friends toss and turn, obviously not sleeping too well.

Gwaine takes over from Leon around two hours before sunrise, before informing Arthur that:

“If you don’t go to sleep, I’ll put you to sleep. And then we’d have to double-ride two horses. And that would slow us down even more. So. What’s it gonna be, princess?”

Arthur grumbles minimally, but he knows Gwaine is right. He doesn’t move from his spot however, choosing to lay down right next to Merlin.

Gwaine simply raises an eyebrow, (and wakes him before everyone else in the morning) at The King’s position.

Arthur has one hand gripping Merlin’s wrist, and the other splayed out against Merlin’s chest, his Warlock’s pulse, and breath, just under his fingertips whilst he slept.

~

They get back to Camelot when expected, around three days later, just before noon.

Leon’s concussion had cleared up completely by the time they had got there, and Lancelot’s throat wasn’t quite so irritated. Percival’s arm was still broken of course, but with the help of some medication they had brought with them, the pain hadn’t been too bad.

Merlin had woken up a few more times across the journey, but was far too exhausted to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, and despite his grumbling, he admitted that it would be best for him to continue sharing a horse.

He managed to get some food in him as well, which the knights were relieved at, and the herbs must’ve been very special, because the infection in the arrow wound was almost gone by the time they got him to Gaius, and they had managed to avoid infection in the stab wound entirely.

Speaking of Gaius, he fussed to the extreme when Merlin hobbled in to the infirmary, supported by The King. After double checking all of his wounds, and forcing a mixture of gross tasting potions down his throat, he had him asleep on one of the patient pallets whilst he checked over the others.

He set Percival’s arm with magic, gave Leon a potion for the headaches he would be having for the next week or so, and gave Lancelot a special tea mix to help with his throat.

The moment Gaius relaxed, Arthur did too, trusting the physicians assessment of his friends. Elyan had scurried off to find Gwen and the Lady Morgana, before joining Gwaine, Percival, Leon, and Lancelot, for much needed naps in their own quarters.

Once everything slowed down a bit, Arthur presented Gaius with the chains and key, and explained to him what had happened.

It was late in the evening at this point, so they spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb Gwen or Morgana, who had both fallen asleep in their chairs at Merlin’s bedside.

“His eyes were bright gold, but they looked... wrong? Like slightly the wrong colour. He was almost completely blank, barely reacted to pain, and just.... stared. Into the distance. Like he had no awareness of his physical surroundings.”

Gaius looked concerned, but not so much so that it worried Arthur:

“Ah. That would explain the severed connections with Morgana and the Druids, his consciousness was locked away, pushed far too deep for anyone to find him. What else?”

Arthur looked uncomfortable and shuffled his feet as he continued, recalling memories from the previous days that he was sure would haunt him as he slept:

“Well... he hesitated a few times, when he was told to... hurt us. Like he was fighting it. But when he was hit or yelled at, it looked like he sort of... re-set? And he would do whatever he was told.”

Gaius nodded:

“Yes. Merlin is incredibly powerful, but so are the enchantments on these chains. He would have fought against it viciously, but the sudden noise, or pain, would’ve have shocked his system into obeying without hesitation. I’m guessing that’s how you broke him free?”

Arthur glanced briefly towards Merlin, before nodding, and replying even quieter than before:

“Hmm. I waited until he looked most... unsure, most hesitant, then yelled at him to look at me. His eyes cleared for just a moment, he whispered “30 seconds” , then knocked himself out somehow. We got the key thing, held off the bandits for 30 seconds, then he woke up and I...-”

He clenches his jaw and looks away at this, letting out a harsh breath at the memory. Gaius pats his hand a few times consolably as he speaks:

“You did what you had to my boy, you didn’t take advantage, or force him to do anything he wouldn’t have willingly done anyway. If anything, from the sounds of it, you were far more merciful and forgiving than Merlin would’ve been.”

Arthur huffs a weak laugh at that, and Gaius smiles, before saying:

“I’m hesitant to analyse these chains until I know more. I’ll talk to the Druids tomorrow, and wait until Merlin’s strength returns before doing anything. You best get some sleep, My Lord.”

Arthur looks up sheepishly, and bites his lip not quite meeting Gaius’ eyes. The old physician raises an eyebrow, prompting him to speak:

“Would you mind if I... stayed here for the night? I can just pull out a pallet but I...-”

Gaius picks up where Arthur hesitates:

“Don’t want to leave him?-”

Gaius smiles once again at Arthur’s infinitesimal nod:

“That’s fine by me, though you’ll have to leave this room to talk to the council eventually.”

Without waiting for a response, Gaius gets up and walks away. He checks Merlin’s bandages briefly before shuffling off to what had been The Court Sorcerer’s previous room, before he had been given his own chambers.

Arthur sighs, and walks over to Merlin, standing above him. The colour has returned to his cheeks, and he looks much healthier now he was no longer covered in his own blood and was wearing clean clothes. 

He sweeps the hair away from his forehead, and leans down to place a gentle kiss where his hand had been. He looks up to see Gwen looking at him sleepily, a fond smile on her face as she stares at Arthur’s blushing face.

She stands and stretches, before whispering:

“Why don’t you take my chair, Arthur? I should probably get back to Lancelot anyway, and I doubt you want to leave his side?”

Arthur nods slightly, and whispers his gratitude as Gwen gives him a quick hug, before sneaking out the door.

Arthur settles in the chair, finding a comfortable (or as comfortable as possible in a wooden chair with wonky legs) position, as he once again wraps one hand around Merlin’s wrist, and places the other over his chest.

He falls asleep after only minutes, and rests easier than he had in a week, satisfied with the knowledge that Merlin was safe and on the mend, and returned to the position Arthur thought he belonged in most: next to him.

~

THE END! 

I dunno, I might write a part two, about the psychological effects on Merlin? Of having his magic controlled, AND of having to watch from behind his own eyes as he hurts his friends? Let me know if y’all wanna see something like that :)

EDIT: Part 2 is up! Link at the top

Same as always lads, you wanna write it out properly with paragraphs and descriptions and shit, go for it, but credit and tag me ✌

[mistninja]

Here's another OC, but first some necessary lore about the setting

In the world of the story, theres 2 magic systems, Soul Magic, which is divided in a couple branches (the main one being Soul Collecting), and Brujeria (Witchcraft), which is more vague and basically encompasses everything that is magic but isnt related to souls.

Soul Collectors are able to take the souls of living beings, and gaining attributes of the owner. For example, taking the soul of a bird can give you wings, taking it from a warrior would give you their strength and swordsmanship, etc etc. Souls can only be taken after the owner dies, in the seconds right afterwards. These souls can be contained inside ones body, or into objects.

Soul Magic can be learned. Brujeria is an innate ability, that manifests in different ways.

Brujeria can be anything from clairvoyance to spells to speaking with the nature to shapeshifting to many other things. Brujos usually have one or two magic abilities, and the magic often also leaves some mark on their body - strange coloration, extreme height, birthmarks, etc.

Another important thing in this world are the Nueve Maldiciones (Nine Curses). These are beings of extreme power that represent things that humanity fear: Oblivion, Darkness, War... the Curses are strong enough to wipe out entire cities in minutes. These beings are all equally powerful and each nation possess one, which keeps the world in some kind of peace since they cant destruct one another.

Catarina Gil, also known as the Tenth Curse - the Curse of Death

Any pronouns (primarily she/her tho). Bisexual. Late 50s at the time of the main story.

A couple decades ago, she was a renowned knight along with her two companions, Gabriel and Alonso.

She's a Soul Collector, the greatest to ever live. Most Collectors cant handle more than a couple dozen souls, but she currently holds exactly 107, 100 inside her own body and 7 placed in different containers. In battle, she always took the souls of those opponents she deemed worthy. Thanks to this, she now has both the strength and fighting abilities of all her enemies.

She was feared so much that she earned her title as the Tenth Curse, and she was said to be able to clear entire battlefields on her own (which was an exaggeration, but almost true).

Currently, she has given up knighthood and has become sort of a dark figure used to scare children. Shes an hermit, and most people havent seen her in a long time.

Pale skin, really short gray hair (used to be black), and dark green eyes. Shes still quite muscular, and stands taller than most people at 2m. Always carries her battle axe.

Catarina is rude, abrasive and closed off. Basically she has the harsh around the edges personality of a retired fantasy character (including the sleeping around and the alcohol).

Her role in the story is being Orellas (begrudging) mentor.

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 15: Same Old Story

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Summary: Some history for Y/N and some brotherly love from Cole.

A/N: when you so busy writing smut that you forget to update the story so you can get to the smut lmao. enjoy, fellow nerds.

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

You were uncomfortable talking about personal things, particularly your history, but Cole deserved answers and he was a patient listener. Being a father, you weren’t really surprised by that. “When I was a kid, like… nine I want to say? Honestly my childhood is pretty blurry. Feels like another life.” You cleared your throat. “Anyway, yeah, around then I fell ill. I had these… fits, for lack of a better word. I didn’t understand what they meant at the time because I was well, nine. No one else understood them either. As an adult I know that I was experiencing prophetic visions. Honestly, they weren’t really prophetic then, I guess. That’s a word Raiden uses a lot for them. Back then they were rarely of future events. It was more like gaining deep insight into the lives of others. I could touch someone or something that someone else had touched and I would disappear. I’d see a glimpse of their history or their present. I was too young to interpret it.”

“Like touch telepathy? I’ve seen television shows about that concept. This stuff is hard for me to wrap my mind around. Too much like fiction.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing to call it. When I saw things, I would also black out. And have a fit. Like a seizure, I suppose. And when that was happening, I would often say things about what I was seeing or hurt myself. It frightened people. My parents took me out of town and I stayed with my grandmother. I was homeschooled after that. My parents saw it as an embarrassment if I recall.” You laughed at the idea of that now. That life was so far behind you that it didn’t matter how stressful it had been. Back then it had felt like the end of the world but as an adult, it was a distant memory. Those experiences had made you different and strange but they had also made you unique and special. You had embraced the things that had separated you from normality since then.

“Well, that’s awful.”

“Oh, no, no pity. It’s fine, really. That was world’s ago.” You waved off his disapproval of a parent being embarrassed by their child for things they couldn’t control. Cole really was a good guy. “I stopped having the visions at around twelve and while I was weak from being so sick, I fought to be normal afterward. My dad ran a dojo and so I grew strong again. I focused on martial arts. It was something that helped me find strength and determination back then.” You smiled at the memory. You’d always had a fondness for it in your heart. That was one of the first things you and Kung Lao had bonded over. Your father had taught Wing Chun and that was what Kung Lao specialized in. “With time my father could no longer teach at the dojo so he moved in with my older sister. I took over the dojo and then opened a shop in the old storage space to make extra money. I had every intention of moving away. I would never be more than a weirdo or a witch there. It was too small a town.”

“Did you ever get to?”

“I mean, I’m here now. That’s a long story though. I’m trying to keep this brief.” You chuckled. “We can talk about that stuff another day.” That was a more casual and personal conversation. This was personal but definitely not casual. If you didn’t have to share these parts of your life then you never would have. Much of it was still too raw. But Cole Young was curious about your past and you were curious about his. It was nice having another friend who wasn’t Liu Kang. You really did get along with him and his family.

“Fair enough.”

“About five years ago I was still doing the same. There had been a robbery across the street and the thugs came into my shop afterward. And, well, I’m not the type to roll over and be robbed.”

“I’d say not.”

“It escalated. There was a man who came in to pick up herbs I had imported for him every month who came in after. He ended up helping me out. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, I killed one of those would-be robbers. He’d been trying to kill me so… I have come to terms with that. That’s how I got the dragon mark.” You pointed to your back. Yours was on your lower back on your left side. “The man who helped me was Liu Kang. I knew him then and he was kind enough to help me deal with the fallout at the time. It took ages for him to convince me to that there was any truth to any of this… Mortal Kombat and arcana nonsense. It’s kind of embarrassing looking back at it.” And the story was far more complicated too. You’d been attracted to Liu Kang from very early on. “I guess that’s why I’m so patient with Johnny. It’s easy for us to know what’s the truth but when you spend your whole life believing that fairytales are made with computers and science? It’s difficult to believe anything else.”

“Yeah, I get that. Not everyone had Sub Zero rushing them into the truth.” He joked. That was true enough. But Johnny Cage had had his come-to-jesus moment that afternoon you were pretty sure. You hadn’t had a moment like that in the beginning. Just Liu Kang’s word and his arcana.

“Liu showed me his arcana but I thought it was a trick. He was very persistent at the time. Tried to talk me into leaving everything I had ever known for what I thought was a trick. I was scared, I’m not too proud to admit that. The part of me that wanted to leave home and never look back had grown smaller over the years. I’d become complacent. I’d grown comfortable being known as a witch and honestly, the next generation of people in town hadn’t treated me so terribly. The kids even thought it was funny that everyone thought I was a witch. But then… I found my arcana.”

“The ink?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty and under control now but in the beginning, it was a nightmare. The first time I used it had been on accident. I nearly destroyed my store. Then I fell and had a fit and I was suddenly seeing things again. Those things I saw didn’t make any sense. None of it. I saw flashes of people and places I didn’t recognize. The best way that I can describe it is… nonsense. It didn’t mean anything.” You sighed heavily. Those moments had been terrifying. “The second time had been even worse. If Liu hadn’t been basically stalking me then someone would have gotten seriously hurt. I’d hurt him but he’d been tough enough to handle it. I felt terrible about it. By then I’d more than grown fond of him.” You didn’t want to get into the details but it hadn’t exactly been difficult to fall into Liu Kang’s arms and it hadn’t taken very long either.

“There’s a lot of history there, huh?”

“Yes. Focus.” You wanted to get this story over as quickly as you could. “After that I decided to go with him. It wasn’t worth the risk of hurting people in town with something I didn’t understand. I didn’t want to leave but I was glad that I did afterward. Raiden’s Temple was where I had needed to be for what came next. It was awful at first. The ink and the visions made me sick. I had little to no control over any of it. Raiden helped me. He could unravel what I saw even if it was just spaghetti to me. My visions helped him. At least he said that they did. Liu helped me get control over my arcana. There I met Kung Lao and I was happy. About a year later the visions stopped altogether and I was stronger than I’d ever been.”

“And now you’re having them again? Out of nowhere?” Cole didn’t sound terribly concerned. He had handled all of this very well. It was nice not to be taken too seriously or looked at like you were about to fracture. You didn’t think the visions were out of nowhere. In fact, you thought that the visions were likely triggered by Kung Lao’s death. Trauma did funny things to people. The things that happened to you were a little funnier than most.

“I confess that I didn’t realize I was having them at first.” You shrugged. It was difficult to explain but it seemed as though, at some point, Cole had abandoned his disbelief and had embraced chaos. “They were more like nightmares. It was difficult to decipher what was guilt and grief and what wasn’t. It wasn’t until the other night on the roof that I even considered they were visions. Well, that and I feel terrible. I haven’t felt this terrible since the last time I had them.” You were a little embarrassed to admit that. If you’d been honest about what you were feeling from the beginning then maybe you could have done things differently. You just hated being weak. It was a hot button for you.

“And that was when you saw what happened this afternoon?”

“Kind of? I saw the beach and a wave of corpses coming for us. Does that count?” You tried to joke. Cole tilted his head as if to consider if it counted or not.

“It does at least explain why you were extra creepy this morning.”

“Implying that I’m always a little creepy.”

“The ink is a little creepy, I decided.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“But you’re okay? This morning was wild.”

Did you not seem okay? You supposed that you were feeling out of it after seeing Kung Lao’s death. You definitely weren’t feeling yourself but you thought that you’d hidden it pretty well. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sound a little morose.” Cole looked to the door like he had somewhere else to be. He probably did. He had a family and all that. “I can’t say we know each other very well but whatever happened back there must have hit hard… and I mean… you were so different at the end of it.”

“I’m fine, Cole.” You reassured him with a forced smile. You were a little morose. That was a good word for what you were feeling. You wanted to sleep for the rest of the week until you had to go back to China.

“Ally, Emily, and I are going to go grab dinner. You’re welcome to join us. You could probably use some food.”

“No, no. Thank you but I think that I have encroached upon your family time enough this week.”

“We really don’t mind. You’re good company. Allison asked if you were joining us, even.”

“Really, Cole. I appreciate the offer but I’m not up to it. My social battery is completely drained.” You offered a weary smile. It was nice to be wanted. “I’m going to rest.”

“You’re just… so off. I feel bad leaving you alone.” Cole pulled his phone from his coat pocket. “I’m considering asking if Ally wants to grab food and then bring Emily here to watch a movie with you.”

“It’s okay, Cole. I need the time alone, I think. Besides, I’m allowed to be a little under the weather after that.” You smiled even so. You didn’t want him to pity you. You didn’t need that. You really would be okay. That morning had been difficult but you weren’t prepared to say the real reasons why. You were a mixture of angry and hurt but you’d trudge through it.

“Yeah…”

“Hey, look, you don’t need to feel responsible for me just because of what happened with Kung Lao.” You would happily absolve him of any guilt he felt in that regards. He was guilty of nothing but being a good man.

“What?” Cole was genuinely surprised and you internally winced at how you’d miscalculated. You’d read the whole situation wrong and instantly regretted your words.

“I thought you might be feeling some misplaced guilt about it. I don’t want that for you.”

“Oh. Maybe that was why I approached you on the street that day but I think we’re past that. We’re friends now. Am I wrong about that?”

“Not at all. It’s been lovely getting to know you and your family. I really mean that, I’m not just saying it. You’ve managed to get me a little out of my head which is nice. And you like my jokes which I appreciate. I’m sorry about the way that came off. I wasn’t trying to diminish our friendship. I just didn’t want you to carry around that guilt, either.”

“That goes for you too.”

“It’s been a hard day. I’m not coming across the way that I mean to. Let’s say lost in translation.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Your English is pretty good so I’m not sure that excuse works, but I’ll let it slide.”

“I know, I know… I’m being cold without meaning to. Like you said, I’m a little morose right now. I do this thing when my feelings are difficult to process where I kind of shut off and… I can come off as cruel without meaning to. Honestly, even in Chinese it doesn’t sound much better.” You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“No need. Today was a reality check. It scared me too. And you’re clearly going through something. I wanted to help, is all. Sometimes when I get too far into my head things snowball and become an avalanche.”

“I appreciate that.” You kicked your shoes off next to the bed and laughed. You had no plans of going anywhere else for the rest of the day. “I used to have Kung Lao to keep that from happening. I appreciate you trying to help but you can go get food with your family and enjoy your afternoon. I’m exhausted. I’ll probably nap or meditate on what happened today.” What you really meant was that you would do whatever it took to get it out of your head. You were going to try and forget the awful things you’d seen today. You weren’t sure you could forget it. His death was burned into your mind’s eye. It would haunt you for the rest of your life.

“I will but before I go, I wanted to talk to you quickly about Liu.”

“I would very much prefer if you didn’t.” You scrunched up your face in distaste.

“I know that I’ve been teasing you about it.” He laughed and you rolled your eyes. “But is everything okay with that? I know, I know… it’s not my business, you’ve said it a dozen times now. It’s clearly complicated. You don’t owe me any details but if you need help with it then say the word. I’m happy to help.” Was Cole Young offering to be your wingman? Or was he offering to beat up Liu Kang? Either scenario was kind of hilarious.

“I’m obviously defensive about it. I’m sure that it’s hilarious from the outside looking in but Liu and I have more history than I care to explain. I’m not ready to get into it with anyone. Not you and definitely not with Liu, either.”

“But that’s okay?”

“Yeah, it will be. I’m a pretty tough lady.”

“On a scale of one to ten just how supportive do you need me to be?”

“No scale. Just be yourself, Cole. You’re doing fine.”

“Even teasing you?”

“I’ve had worse teasing, trust me. I dated Kung Lao for years. Besides, it kind of lessens the frustration of it. Sometimes I get too serious and scary in my head. The joking grounds me a little.”

“Good to know.” Cole patted you on the back. It was nice having a friend to talk to. A friend that wasn’t Liu Kang. Not that you didn’t enjoy Liu Kang, things were just too complex between you right now. There was so much hurt and grief that you weren’t sure how things would pan out or if they would ever be fixable. And Cole was a good man. You enjoyed talking to Allison too and Emily had taken a shine to you. You hadn’t had the opportunity to be around kids in years and you were good with them at most ages. That was part of why you’d enjoyed running the dojo.

There was a knock at your door. You made to get up to answer it.

“I’ll get it. I’m on my way out anyway.” Cole stood and so you sat back down. You wouldn’t argue with him. Cole opened the door and there was Liu Kang, which was no surprise to you. You’d been expecting him to show up at some point. Who else would it have been, anyway? You were pretty sure that you’d rubbed Sonya and Jax the wrong way with all your talk of kidnapping. Cole stared Liu Kang down instead of greeting him and you tried not to laugh.

“Hello Cole.” Liu bowed his head politely in greeting. “I was hoping that I could speak with Y/N for a few minutes. Is she here? Did I come to the wrong room?” Liu peered around him and made eye contact with you. You offered him a curt wave.

“That’s up to her.”

You tried very hard not to laugh at the look of confusion on Liu’s face. He was bewildered.

“Of course it is.”

“You can come in, Liu.” You stopped that conversation before it got any weirder. Cole meant well, but wow.

“I was just leaving.” Cole clasped Liu on the shoulder as if to wish him good luck and then left, closing the door behind him after Liu had stepped past him. Liu watched the door close and then turned back to you. His expression was priceless. You’d have to thank Cole for that later.

Next Chapter >>

[odanurr87]

My thoughts on... Hotel del Luna

From left to right: Pyo Ji-hoon as Ji Hyun-joong; Yeo Jin-goo as Gu Chan-sung; Lee Ji-eun (IU) as Jang Man-wol; Bae Hae-seon as Choi Seo-hee; and Shin Jung-keun as Kim Sun-bi.

Released in 2019, Hotel del Luna was my introduction to the works of the Hong sisters as well as actors Yeo Jin-goo and Lee Ji-eun (IU), and what an introduction it was! The first episode of the show was excellent, giving us a hint of Man-wol’s tragic past that left me wanting to know more, then moving forwards in time to reenact that scene from Beauty and the Beast where Belle’s father is caught trying to steal a rose from Beast’s garden to give to Belle, and finally reaching present day as Man-wol tries to recruit Chan-sung and introduces him, and us, to this world of gods, ghosts, and souls with lingering grudges, that reminded me of the wondrous world of Harry Potter. Everything clicked for me in this episode, from the beautiful cinematography and music to the strong performances, particularly IU’s as Man-wol who knocked it out of the park and, incidentally, has a most impressive wardrobe and an uncanny ability to look amazing in every single one of her outfits. This was a highly promising start for my next modern fantasy show after Goblin and I couldn’t wait for the next episode. But what is this show about and why should you watch it?

Plot synopsis

21 years ago, Gu Chang-sung’s father cut a deal with the beautiful and mysterious owner of Hotel del Luna, Jang Man-wol, so that she would save his life in exchange for his son. Regretting the deal afterwards, the father left the country with his son hoping to spare him his fate. Believing himself to be safe, Gu Chan-sung has returned to work as assistant manager in one of Korea’s top hotels but Jang Man-wol is intent on collecting on the old debt by having him work in her hotel instead. However, Hotel del Luna is not your typical establishment, as Gu Chan-sung soon finds out, providing a service for souls who need healing or have grudges left to settle before moving on. While initially afraid of the prospect of becoming assistant manager at a hotel that serves ghosts, Gu Chan-sung finds himself intrigued by the challenge and curious about the story of the beautiful owner who runs it.

A magical atmosphere

Stepping into the world of Hotel del Luna feels like taking the train at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and attending Hogwarts. In fact, our intrepid hero, Gu Chan-sung, also receives a magical letter welcoming him as Hotel del Luna’s new manager, and while there’s nothing magical about the subway that takes him there Jang Man-wol does use a little magic to ensure their first encounter goes undisturbed. The hotel itself reminded me of Hogwarts, not because it is filled with ghosts and can only be found by them (and the very much alive and fearful human manager), but because of the feeling of perpetual wonder knowing that behind every door lies a new magical mystery waiting to be discovered, be it a room only people who are alive can enter but not exit, the sky lounge, a swimming pool that is actually a beach in some undetermined plane of existence, or a beautiful garden with a magical tree that holds one of the hotel’s biggest secrets. Of course, one should not forget CEO Jang Man-wol (if one wishes to live) who, while certainly a very different character from Albus Dumbledore in terms of personality, always knows more than she’s letting on and is usually in control of any situation, even if the outcome isn’t always the one she anticipates. There is also the wonderful supporting cast in the form of the different incarnations of the deity Ma Go-sin (played by Seo Yi-sook, who looks like she’s having a blast playing the different sides of the goddess), a reserved but diligent Grim Reaper (played by Kang Hong-suk), and the welcoming staff of the hotel, represented by the trio of Kim Sum-bi (the bartender), Choi Seo-hee (the room manager), and Ji Hyun-joong (the hotel receptionist).

In the same way we cannot divorce Harry Potter from its music, given its distinct signature by that legend that is John Williams, I cannot forego mentioning Hotel del Luna’s mysterious, magical, and ethereal, instrumental soundtrack. Let me take you on a brief musical tour, shall I? Let’s start by taking subway line 4 and going to Hotel del Luna. The receptionist seems to be asleep so why don’t we let ourselves in? Wow, looks like the hotel’s throwing a party, apparently they’re welcoming human guests for the first time in years and the staff is particularly excited about it. That explains how we managed to get in (remember, this is not really a hotel for living, breathing, people). I can see that the bartender is busy receiving food orders and members of the staff are decorating the hall with real flowers. Hey, where’s that kid sneaking off to? Let’s follow him. Oh, that’s the Samdocheon Tunnel, which marks the boundary between this life and the afterlife. The Grim Reaper and the manager are there to bid farewell to one of the hotel’s guests. Apparently, there’s a bridge beyond the tunnel that takes 49 days to cross! I’m not eager to cross it just yet so let’s return to the hotel. Wait, why is there water everywhere? Looks like a water god managed to get past the receptionist (not that difficult when he’s asleep) and the CEO isn’t very happy about it. Yup, she definitely doesn’t look happy. We’d better make our exit before she figures out we shouldn’t be here.

To complement this excellent instrumental soundtrack, my favourite among all the kdramas I’ve watched to date, there’s an amazing selection of songs by artists like Red Velvet, TAEYEON, Heize, Punch, Chung Ha, and Paul Kim, among many others. IU herself sings an absolutely beautiful song that plays in one of the most highly-anticipated scenes of the show but which, sadly, has not been released. However, just as important as having a great soundtrack is using it well. If you’ve read my reviews of Angel’s Last Mission: Love or Strong Woman Do-Bong Soon, you should have an idea of how much I value using the right music at the right time to convey or accentuate the proper emotions during dramatic, comedic, or romantic scenes. Correct music usage can lead to your soundtrack being memorable, whereas incorrect music usage will surely render it forgettable. Fortunately for us, Hotel del Luna knows precisely when to use its music and how. It knows when levity is called for and when it’s not, when to highlight the wondrous side of magic and when to show its darker side, when to use Heize’s “Can You See My Heart” or Punch’s “Done For Me.” I believe it was John Williams, when talking about the music of the original Star Wars trilogy, who said that he wanted the score to tell the story of what was going on in the screen. I believe Hotel del Luna’s score achieves this feat.

Another aspect that contributes to the magical atmosphere of the show is, without a doubt, its incredible cinematography (from camera angles, through its beautiful use of lighting and colours) which, combined with its excellent score, can create scenes that are best defined as poetry in motion. I particularly liked how it favoured studio sets for shooting many of its scenes, giving the sensation that we’re watching a superb play that encourages us to send our imagination into overdrive. Even some of the more noticeable VFX work, like the city view from the hotel’s sky lounge plays into the notion that one cannot always tell what’s real and what’s fake in Hotel del Luna, as Man-wol warns Chan-sung that the view from the sky lounge is not from this world, but the fall will kill him just the same (Man-wol being Man-wol). Because I’m not knowledgeable enough to explain the show’s cinematography in technical terms, I’ll leave you with a trailer that captures some aspects of it and, luckily, also showcases Jang Man-wol’s incredible selection of dresses.

A part of a greater whole

In my review of Bring it on, Ghost I mentioned the show followed a certain formula that is often poorly executed in Western shows. There is a main story-arc that encompasses the whole of the show and there are side stories where our protagonists confront the “ghost of the week.” One of the strengths of Bring it on, Ghost lied in how these side stories would sometimes tie into the main story or would be used to expand on a character’s backstory so that they rarely came across as filler. Hotel del Luna executes the same formula with a lot more thought and care, often laying out the groundwork for events later down the episode, what is expected, or even later down the show, what is a bit more impressive. The Hong sisters remain true to their initially-stated intention throughout the show and reinforce this with the aid of these side stories, preparing both Gu Chan-sung and us for the inevitable dénouement of the show. Let me try to illustrate my point by way of an example. I don’t want to give more for fear of completely spoiling the show for you.

Episode 5 tells the story of a ghost bride whose parents want to give a soul wedding so she will be able to peacefully pass into the afterlife. Unfortunately, the chosen partner for this soul wedding ends up being Gu Chan-sung’s best friend, Sanchez, so while Man-wol goes shopping as Audrey Hepburn with the parents’ black card (our girl has very expensive tastes), Gu Chan-sung tries to figure out a way to spare his terrified friend. After some twists and turns, what is often the case with this show as the truth is not always what it seems, it is revealed that it is actually the groom’s parents who want to marry off the bride so she’ll let go of their son, who’s in a coma. For those who’ve watched Bring it on, Ghost, the parallels with the ghost side story from Episode 10 are fairly evident, as the ghost bride needs to find the strength to let go of the person she loves and she ultimately does so in one of the most beautifully composed scenes of the show. This is one of those “poetry in motion” scenes I was talking about. As the groom runs away in shock and fear, the bride gathers the courage to cut the red string of fate tying them together, under the intent gazes of Gu Chan-sung, dressed as the groom, and Jan Man-wol, dressed as a bride (in red).

You need a stronger will to let go than to hold on.

This scene is a portent of events yet to come, when the day finally arrives where Chan-sung and Man-wol will also have to part ways. Indeed, several episodes later, the room manager will remind Gu Chan-sung of the words Goddess Ma Go-sin then told the ghost bride, “You need a stronger will to let go than to hold on.” The bride’s selfless act of letting go of the person she loves, breaking free from her earthly tether of her own volition, can be seen as a challenge to Man-wol, whose hatred for the man who betrayed her has been her sole drive for the past 1,300 years but also a curse that has bounded her to the hotel and prevented her from dying. Could she, like the bride, unburden herself by letting go of her hatred? Is it possible for someone with such a long and deep resentment to simply let go? This is a recurring question throughout the show and one that puts her at odds with her increasing desire to protect Gu Chan-sung, as she fears her actions, born of her hatred for the people who wronged her, might end up harming the man she loves.

Side stories such as this one often give us further insight into Man-wol, whether it be a glimpse of her past or challenging her beliefs, making her question herself and her actions, however briefly.

A fairy tale romance

Man-wol is a tsundere character, both a Beauty and a Beast, who has been nursing a thousand-year-old grudge against the people who betrayed her and consequently filters every human interaction through a lens of cold cynicism, expecting the worst from people. Chan-sung on the other hand, is a proper gentleman, a type of character we don’t often see in kdramas and a natural consequence of his training as a hotel manager. He’s friendly, cultured, well-mannered, kind, clever, and someone who's very much in control of his emotions most of the time. The evolution of the relationship between these two characters is the centrepiece of Hotel del Luna, a breath of fresh air in a landscape that often feels the need to use love triangles, or other polygons, as a shortcut to properly fleshing out the relationship between two characters. While there are elements of a love triangle present, such as expressions of jealousy for the sake of comedy, Hotel del Luna chooses to forego this trope and commit fully to the main characters’ fairy tale-like romance.

When you tell her you’ve been dreaming about her.

Another trope the Hong sisters mostly dispense with is that of misunderstandings, which are kept to a bare minimum, as Man-wol and Chan-sung are very open with each other regarding their thoughts and feelings, although Man-wol is, understandably, less transparent about her feelings in the beginning. It was incredibly refreshing to witness two characters that could guess each other’s thoughts and were willing to have an open and honest conversation about it rather than to hold back for the sake of drama. Of course, this did become somewhat frustrating for Man-wol (and fun for us) when Chan-sung started gaining more confidence, feeling at ease with Man-wol, and rebuking her selfish or materialistic actions. Their playful banter and bickering throughout the show is, to my mind, a clear indication that they’re comfortable with each other, as strong a sign of the chemistry in their relationship as half a dozen kisses, if not a better one, what is a good thing because those are few and far between. On the other hand, it makes those moments much more valuable and meaningful. The love between Man-wol and Chan-sung comes across in the gestures they make, in their facial expressions, in the words spoken and left unsaid. When Man-wol tries to comfort Chan-sung but doesn’t know how (Video), when she confesses she wants him to stay with her till the end and they share an intimate hug (Video), when Chan-sung breaks down and cries at the thought of not being able to see Man-wol ever again (Video), when the two have a conversation on the balcony under the moonlight (Video)... These are a precious few examples of the beauty, strength, and depth of feeling, of their relationship.

When the adult catches you in a lie.

While Man-wol is not the same ruthless person she was at the beginning of the show as she is at the end, she still retains some elements or traits of her personality throughout the show (there’s still a little tsun in her dere), as it should be. In one episode Chan-sung is remarking upon how much nicer she has become and she replies, “Gu Chan-sung, you’ve made leaves and flowers grow and have changed me a lot. But you won’t be able to change my core personality. Don’t even expect that.” Even as she says this you can see her looking a little uneasy about something, a little girl about to be caught in a lie by the adult who’s trying to keep her out of trouble. It is thanks to Gu Chan-sung’s patient and enduring love, that protected her from the worst aspects of her own self, that Man-wol is able to let go of her anger, both literally and metaphorically. But Man-wol also deserves praise, as she reciprocates Chan-sung’s love and equally tries to protect him from the dangers of this new world he has entered but most of all from herself, to the point she is willing to renounce her revenge and extinguish her existence to ensure she can never harm the man she loves.

Conclusion

It should be evident by now that I absolutely love this show and it is, without a doubt, my favourite out of all I’ve watched thus far, including Goblin. This is not to say the show is without flaws. Its almost single-minded focus on the story of Man-wol and Chan-sung has some collateral damage, most notably in the form of a character’s loved one, an event used as a means to highlight the pain experienced by those left behind, anticipating the day when our main protagonists will be forced to part ways. In another case, a poignant encounter for Chan-sung is not properly fleshed out, perhaps intentionally so but it seems like a wasted opportunity. Additionally, the introduction and development of the secondary villain’s arc (Man-wol is both the love interest and the main antagonist) felt a little weak, but is still a functional plot device that leads to some of the show’s best scenes. Finally, there is also the way the Hong sisters handled the riddle of Chan-sung’s dreams, which I may address in a separate post because it has too many spoilers.

If you’re a fan of fantasy dramas like Goblin, there’s simply no reason for me not to recommend this show and, hopefully, I’ve given you a few to persuade you as to why this is such a standout drama and, to my mind, the Hong sisters’ best work to date. It’s even on r/KDRAMA’s banner as one of those must-watch shows. If you do decide to watch it, I advise you to pace yourself so you don’t have to say goodbye to Hotel del Luna’s wonderful family too soon.

[caramelcal]

The Truth Hurts... {part eight}

Every time your soulmate lies, a mark presents itself on your body. In a world like this, people normally told the truth so that their soulmate didn’t have to deal with the consequences. But your soulmate? They seemed persistent to make your life hell, and mark your body until there was no skin left.

Word Count: 2.1k

a/n: We’re getting close to his betrayal and I’m scared omllll, this chapter is full of Theo x y/n content so enjoyyy! 

Taglist: (comment if you want to be added, or you can message me) @itsjustmeiguessallrightthen @moonbeams-stuff @cece-lives-here​  @aprilfire18​ @adrianaprox​ @slytherinrising​ @deadric​

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It had been three days. Three days since you had talked to anyone in the pack apart from Theo. You had briefly spoke to Stiles over text, but the pack was just so disconnected. Ever since Liam and Hayden had been found, you don't think you spoke much to any of them. Scott hadn’t been in contact with you but you weren’t surprised, Liam and Hayden were just trying to live out their lives and explore their new relationship and god knows what Malia and Lydia were up to.

However, you had spent the past few days with Theo and honestly, it was the best weekend you have had in a long time. You done all sorts of stuff together, watched a movie, studied, and talked until the sun rose. The Dread Doctors hadn’t been seen for days and no new chimeras had appeared, life almost became normal. Except, it wasn’t. You knew that you could enjoy the time you spent with Theo, the friendship and trust that had blossomed between the two of you wasn’t something that you experienced in a long time; you were normally too busy with dealing with the supernaturals.

He understood you, and that was exhilarating. Yet, there was still an inkling in the back of your head, a gloomy cloud hovering above you that the Dread Doctors were still here, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until they attacked again but you still savored these days, becoming almost human again. It wasn’t like you were a supernatural but the weight of the secret was too much sometimes, you didn’t like to talk to the pack about it but Theo seemed to sense it. He knew that you were scared of the Dread Doctors, he knew that you knew that they didn’t just go away. Something was coming, and it was coming soon.

Yet, you let yourself fall into the dreams of a normal life; one that you could’ve had. You secretly yearned for one, a life where you could focus on being a normal teenager, with normal friends. The pack had lost a lot of people, between sacrifices, pack members, and others; people that you were never able to grieve for. The amount of pain you had all experienced was much more than anyone should ever have to experience, let alone a bunch of teenagers.

So was it bad that you wanted some normalcy back? No, you should be allowed to be a little selfish sometimes. Maybe that’s why the past few days were intoxicating, you didn’t have to deal with any supernaturals and that was beyond freeing.

It shouldn’t feel this good, not when the Dread Doctors were still here. They didn’t leave, they weren’t gone. There was not that relief, yet you still felt the addictive feeling of freedom. Maybe that’s why you found it so happy when you got another message from him. When you awaited the notification to pop up as you smiled, feeling giddy as you read the most recent message from him.

meet me at the library :) don’t forget your card

. . .

You remembered the first time that you had met up with Theo, he had just arrived at your house and dropped you a text “look outside your window”

Not that you were disappointed anyway, in fact, you smiled so wide and practically rushed downstairs. Theo had been the first real friend you had made for a long time. Sure there was Kira, Lydia, Malia, Liam, and all that but they were different. You were friends with them of course, but you never really spent much time outside the supernatural with them, they were what you class as “the pack”, not "friends”.

There was Scott and Stiles too. But you had known them for so long, and you guys had been through thick and thin together but you were friends before you found the secret out. You had been there with them through everything, but they weren’t new friends. Outside of the pack, you didn’t have time to make any new friends, and even if you did you knew you would feel far too guilty about holding back such a big secret but you couldn’t spill it, you knew that. The burden of the supernatural was one that you had to guard with your life, no matter what. That’s why you didn’t meddle with the other students, the unknowing and innocent people that you secretly envied.

So when Theo showed interest in you outside of pack duties, you were probably a little too excited. He wasn’t a proper member of the pack just yet, not until Scott said so, but to you, he was an honorary member. You remembered getting into his truck, greeting him with a small smile and sarcastic quip to which he smirked.

He didn’t even tell you where you were going until he showed up at a drive-in movie theatre a town over, where you guys talked, making fun of the crappy movie that was playing and picking out all the faults in it. You guys were good at that, but you weren’t at picking out the ones in each other.

Maybe you were blinded by his smirk, or maybe it was his cocky persona, or maybe it was the fact that despite the picture he painted of himself that he still listened to you rant, or talk acting completely interested and enraptured in your story. Maybe it was because you felt that you were actually listened to or maybe it was that deep down the thought of his gave you butterflies.

Maybe he liked you too, the way you watched the crappy movie with a smile, even though it was the most ridiculous movie that he had ever seen in his entire life. Maybe it was the way that you laughed at the jokes he said, or maybe it was the way your hair moved due to the wind, but you paid no mind. Maybe it was the fact that you trusted him or showed him what a real-life was; one he hadn’t been able to spend due to being a chimera and being with the Dread Doctors.

With you, Theo felt free. He felt normal. Normal was never something that he had hoped for, it was something that he didn’t consider either but as he looked at you there was a tiny flicker of a thought that rung in his head, maybe normal wouldn’t be so bad. He knew that thought wouldn’t stay, his drive for power was too much. Power meant everything to him, and maybe you would understand that; he secretly hoped you would.

That was the day after you both found Liam and Hayden.

The first day you had gone somewhere with someone outside of pack stuff. It was a relief; to finally feel like a teenager again, a normal teenager. You should’ve felt guilty, that you were acting normal with Theo instead of plotting ways to defeat your most recent enemy like you normally did. You normally do so much research, searched the bestiary, or done all-nighters to find out the weaknesses of these creatures and rivals but what were you doing instead? You were laughing and sharing stories with the enemy. An enemy that was trying to get inside and rip the pack apart. An enemy just as, if not more dangerous, than everything you had faced before. An enemy that you trusted with your whole heart.

But he had already ripped you apart from Scott, how long would it take him to do the same to the others?

. . .

It was nine pm by the time you got to the library, and you don’t think you had ever seen it so empty. It was Saturday, and what sort of nerd would go to the school library on a Saturday? Most kids didn’t even go to the library during the weekdays, never mind the weekends.

You swiped your card before putting it in your back pockets and walking into the library. It was silent apart from your light footsteps as you heaved the door open. Looking around the library, you noticed the distinct lack of Theo, deciding it was best if you called out for the boy to grab his attention. Maybe he was just looking for a book or something, or you just couldn’t see him due to how dark it was, “Theo?”

The shout was left with silence as its answer, making you walk further into the library. You checked all the aisles downstairs, where bookshelves were stacked high with books of all genres, lit dimly but there was still no Theo. There was no one.

Well, that’s what you thought until you felt strong arms around your shoulders, a hand over your mouth. Eyes wide, you froze for a few seconds before you used your foot to stomp into the person’s foot behind you. You then proceeded to throw your head back, hitting into their nose as they let go of you, you spun around, ready to punch them in the face when you seen the person.

“Theo, what the hell?” You spoke out angrily, you had thought that someone was legitimately trying to kidnap you or something, but it was just Theo. You crossed your arms over your chest as he groaned, clutching his nose.

“Gosh y/n, it’s just me!” Theo groaned again, eyes opening to look up at you, your arms crossed over your chest and eyes glaring at him with annoyance, “at least I know you can protect yourself, I guess.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him, going to walk away from him and further into the library yet he caught up with you, walking in sync with you. You looked at him, noticing that his bloody nose was already healing, werewolves these days.

He took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as you whirled around to face him completely, noticing the smirk that lay idle on his face. Even when you nearly decked him he still always had that smirk on his face, “What did you want me to be here for anyway?”

“What? Do you not love spending time with your favorite werewolf?” Theo feigned hurt in his infamous cocky manner, to which you snorted in return.

“Wouldn’t go that far.”

Suddenly, you were hoisted into the air and over Theo’s shoulder as he walked up the stairs, running slightly making your heart rate spike, “I swear Theo, you better not drop me!”

“Have trust, Princess,” The nickname rolled off his tongue without even thinking about it, and he didn’t even realize he said it, but you? You did. How could you not? And how could he act like he didn’t say it; like it was natural?

He placed you down at the top of the stairs, laughing at your dizzy figure with amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. You looked up at him, any annoyance that you had for him moments ago completely dissipated as he guided you along to a table. You sat down on the chair opposite him, a table in between the two of you as you asked, “What are we here for anyway, Theo?”

He looked up at you again, his smirk growing a little bigger as he lifted out his Biology textbook and throwing it down on the table making you groan, “I’m not studying for Biology, not on a Saturday.”

“Well, how else will I get you not to drop out?”

“By not making me study on a Saturday, that’s one thing,” You started as you rolled your eyes, looking down at the textbook with distaste, “Plus I told you the reason that I’m dropping out was because of all the supernatural stuff.”

“But everything has calmed down,” Theo interjected, trying his best to persuade you as he set his elbows down on the table, hands clasped together.

“Not for long, I can feel it, Theo, something is going to happen soon,” You said with a sigh, pushing some of your h/c hair out of your face and behind your ear as you traced patterns on the table.

Theo got up, moving over to you as he crouched down, “Then we better make the best of the time we’ve got then.”

“What are you talking about?” You questioned as you turned around to look at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion. Yet, you were not met with a verbal answer. Instead, you were met with something a lot more intense, and confusing. It made your heart race to the point of no tomorrow and made your body freeze. It was something you had been secretly hoping for and as you stared into those blue eyes of his, you would never have imagined what he did. Not until he did it.  

Theo Raeken smashed his lips against yours.

And suddenly everything felt right.

[thelostguardianau]

The Lost Guardian- Chapter Eight

“Heed the Silenced”

(Authors note: aha.. yknow I should probably stop making promises for this fic. Months later, w/ a chapter that doesn’t have Thomas in it, three different outlines down and i’m really just at the mercy of this fic at this point xD considering midway through writing this chapter I had to cut and rewrite an entire scene i’d spent a month on bc I’d decided that Dee had a chance at redemtion that added an actual direction and a tangable end goal to this story. So. Yeah. And!! A loud Thank You!! to @bumblebeekitten for helping me bounce ideas back & forth for this au and being my beta for this chapter!!)

Character Info & Art:

Patton | Logan | Roman | Virgil | Remy | Deceit | ??? | ???

Chapter Seven | Chapter Nine

Fandom: Thomas Sanders Sides

Pairings: Eventual Polyamsanders (LAMPR/CALMR-a.k.a LAMP/CALM + Remy ‘Sleep’ Sanders)

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS KINDA DIALOG HEAVY!(sorry) Currently depicted as morally grey Deceit(subject to change in future chapters), though the side of Deceit from his first appearance doesnt make an appearance in this chapter and it is explained why, mentions of past betrayal and dark descriptions of bodily concepts, curses, limitations, and changes only really explained as possible through the lore of this au. Deceit speaks in riddles because he has to, ominous warnings. Virgil still isn’t okay mentally. Mentions of indifference to death, lack of selfworth or self preservation. (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

[[MORE]]

Brown eyes flutter open at the chilly breeze of a fan, and the ravenette’s mind comes to realize that he’s been moved from resting on his stomach to laying on his back. Groggy from his much too short nap, it takes a few moments to realize there are no warm bodies near him or under him, no breathing or chatter of familiar voices to sooth him.

The room, he realizes, is empty.

The room itself is, in fact, not Remy’s bedroom at all.

Shooting straight up, Virgil’s first clear thought is that he’s back at home. At his apartment, this time in his hoodie yet still roughed up from his latest ‘adventure’. The scene is eerily familiar, and yet he knows this time that work is not where he needs to be. It’s already daylight and his mind now knows this familiar scene, he should feel alone. Yet, this time he can hear the sound of honking cars and people, his loud neighbor from upstairs stomping around.

It doesn’t make sense as he walks to his window and peers out to see vague cars and people, he can’t even seem to make out any individual faces. It’s grey and raining outside, but there is no pattering sound against the foggy window. ‘What’s happening?’ Virgil wonders.

“Life seemed so simple a week ago, even months ago, did it not..?” A familiar voice drifts from behind him. Ice cold fear shoots down the ravenette’s spine as he recognizes the voice.

“I can hardly believe you were able to leave it, your routine. It was your everything, back when you came to terms with what you had left. Am I wrong, Virgil?” Whirling around to face the voice, Virgil finds the terrifying ex-Guardian sitting on his couch looking quite at home, if a little sheepish.

“What do you care?” He spat back, stepping back against his window.

“I am only looking out for you, you know. I have been protecting you all your life. Of all people I think I would know what is best for you, don't you think? We are connected after all, you and I.” The man sighed, making a surrendering motion with his hands.

“Why would I trust you?! You tried to kill me yesterday!” Virgil growled. “Why--h-how are you even here!?”

“False, my dear Virgil. I tried to warn you. Sure,” The guardian rolled his hand as he spoke, “I am forced to have a round-about way of speaking my truths, it is just part of my consequences it seems. But how else was I going to get you to listen to me after the others fed you lies about me? I do sincerely apologize for my other half being rough, though. I cannot quite.. Control.. Him.” The guardian tilted his bowler hat down to guiltily hide his eyes, regret briefly twisting his expression.

Finally the Guardian stood, dusting himself off as if his immaculate attire had acquired dust from just existing in his apartment. “I needed my physical body to reach yours and make our soul connection strong again, so that my soul could reach yours. However.. The pain I caused you was far from my intention. I am deeply regretful that it came down to.. That awful encounter.

“To answer your question though, Virgil, I am here because I created ‘here’. A realm made to form this illusion of being home, sweet home, just on the corner of the little street you had come to live on for the past year. It is all my doing. Where you stand is simply an illusion only you and I can access, a manipulation of your dreams and memories. The only place where the real me can talk to you mostly unhindered.” The guardian gestured to his surroundings.

“It takes only one person to flip your life on it’s head, a matter of hours to make the decision of a lifetime, and a matter of days to have completely changed your life’s direction,” He turned to Virgil, and looked him straight in the eyes, feeling distant and lost.

“And only a matter of years to succumb to the depression of the lonely consequences..”

Virgil blinked at that. The sad, longing tone had him thrown for a loop; it almost felt like the Guardian wasn't even quite talking to Virgil. “I-What..? I.. I don’t understand.”

The Guardian shook his head, snapping out of it and refocusing himself. "Nevermind that. It is time I talked to you for real, if you will have me?" The Guardian held out a hand politely, though there was no real expectation for Virgil to take it.

After a pause, Virgil gave a slight nod, still suspicious of the other's intent. The Guardian returned the nod, and his hand fell to his side.

“I am limited to the time that you rest and for now I will not be able to explain myself thoroughly, so, I ask you to understand that I do not expect you to trust me when I am done. I honestly do not expect you to ever trust me. With the mistakes I have made, I firmly believe I would not deserve it.”

Virgil blinked in surprise, not having expected his captor to admit to his faults straight off the bat.

“Okay.. Well, we’re here, might as well hear your side of the story. So.. Shoot.” Virgil said lightly, distrust and suspicion still evident in his tone and stance.

“I would assume at this point you are well aware of how the story you have been told paints me as the villain, a mastermind seeking power, immortality, and revenge? At least, that is what I am led to believe is still the story, it has been many years since I have heard the tale first hand… And... Well. Would that not be so lovely?” Virgil made a face, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“I am serious. Life would be so much easier if it was all black and white, true or false, good and bad, would it not? If those who meant well knew everything and those malicious few could not corrupt anything?” The Guardian frowned a bit, frustrated with his words that couldn’t seem to cooperate with him.

“Would it not be lovely if I could talk to you without fighting to keep from turning every honest thought into a question or theoretical statement just to let it be said? That my words could hold a meaning not forcibly disguised in the forms of fables and riddles?” The Guardian looked down lamely, his words tapering off in agitation. For a moment, Virgil waited as the Guardian was silent, contemplative. Then, the next moment the Guardian’s face scrunched up in sadness and his words were soft as he placed a hand over his golden wrist markings.

“My story is complicated, and twisted with shades of grey. One could say what I did was an attempt to keep you safe, another could say that what I did was outlandish and impulsive, and stupid. But no one will be able to tell you that what I did went according to the plan I had... at first. No one will tell you that my intention was to save you, to keep your fate safe. No one will tell you that my plan was ruined. Because there is no longer anyone who remembers what happened that night except for me,”

The Guardian’s eyes flicked up to meet the ravenette’s, a hurt look passing over his face as he continued. His steady voice now just barely trembled with uncertainty as he continued.

“No one but me and the soul who wants so desperately for everyone to forget. The soul who ripped my own in two to bury the secret, and ruin you and I both.”

“My final warning is this: Beware of the man who carries the world on his shoulders unflinchingly, he will be watching you closely. You have immunity to his power thanks to our connection, you might use this knowledge well to find the truth that lies in plain sight. However, your fate lies in the decisions you chose to make with this knowledge, I can only warn you of what might come.” The Guardian nodded solemnly, choosing to finish his cryptic warning there.

Virgil stood there, reeling with the information. Sure, he definitely wasn’t completely convinced he could trust this cryptic stranger, Guardian? Foe? Friend? Virgil wasn’t really sure what to call him anymore. But damn, his life was already so fucking crazy, this was all just fucking crazy! He could just be dreaming for all he knew.

But… Deep inside, he was hoping he wasn’t.

This was, well. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting to hear when facing the man whose, er, body? Had originally tried to strangle him? Now he’d heard his sob story and, well, Virgil wasn’t that easy to fool, but he’d also been told that it wasn’t expected that he’d trust the guy even in the end and he didn’t really want to.

He’d been on the path to death for so long, and then just two days ago everything had changed. So much was happening, it was frankly exhausting. What the fuck was he, some book protagonist? Couldn’t he get a little time to think about all this before he went crazy?

Still, something under all his incredulity begged to hear the guardian out. He vaguely wondered how Stockholm Syndrome worked before he gave in a little. What difference did a little more crazy make in his life at this point?

“Fine, I’ll heed your warning, or whatever the fuck. But only if you can tell me what you mean when you said that this guy ripped your, uh, soul? In two.” Virgil huffed, partially relaxing. It was odd how comforting he found it to be, floating in this weird feeling imaginary world, where he could interact with objects that weren’t real. It felt like he was really standing in his home, and yet it was just built from memory.

The guardian’s solemn expression formed into a grim smile, eyes distant once more before nodding. “I will do the best that my words will allow.” Virgil nodded, and waited for the now very familiar stranger to gather his words and take a breath. Then he began, his markings lightly flashing gold.

“You find yourself whole one day, as you have always been. To be whole of body, whole of mind, both human and guardian in nature. To have conscious thought and control over your whole physical being and soul..

“You find that yourself and others of the winged variety are capable of separating your soul from your being, though only the most Elite can do it well. You find out the family you made would soon be in danger. You then find yourself lost and alone when you once had a home to call your own.

“You find yourself knowing a truth, a perilous truth. Your home is in shambles now that you are gone, yet they do not know it. This truth is at fault, but the blame is not fully your own in a world built on lies.

“The source of truth tucks itself into blankets of grey, drawing itself further from discovery with each passing day. Now only you know the truth. The source of the truth finds you, it seeks to hide you too.

“You find yourself split one day, as you have never been before. Forced apart from the body, trapped within the mind. Guardian in nature, to have conscious thought and your dying soul trapped within, a false mind piloting the puppeteered confines of a broken body with a blind goal.”

“You find you cannot control what you used to, you are a prisoner to a body that is no longer your own, mostly unconscious to the world around it. Crazed by the false emotions that fuel it.”

“The you that used to be is no longer, and has not been for over a hundred years. The world that knew you knows not of what you’ve become. Knows not of the shackles that bind you.

“The you that used to be is no longer, and will never be again.” The Guardian finished, hesitant yellow eyes meeting Virgil’s carefully. Phantom goosebumps trail down Virgil's arms as the final sentence strikes a cord in him.

Virgil found he really wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, the rawness in the other’s tone spoke volumes of the sore spot they’d reached.

“Your body rests, but your mind also needs time to process today. I shall see you when you next rest, though only if you wish to seek me. Rest well knowing that you will not be scooped from your safety once more, as I hope I’m never to do so again. And...” The guardian paused, considering their next words very carefully.

“I know it is selfish to ask... but, I hope and wish that Thomas is alright, after all this time... Do take care of him, would you?”

Virgil paused and stared, finding only concern and longing in the guardian’s expression. And, well, fuck. What a way to pull at a guy’s heartstrings.

“Er, yes. Yeah. I’ll try my best.” Virgil gave his signature mock salute, the Guardian tipping his hat in return.

“Trying is all I could ever ask of you, Virgil. Rest well, you will need it.” And with that final sentence, the world around Virgil gently grew dark, and he sunk into the comforting arms of sleep.

Despite it all, Virgil still found his mind vaguely conscious. Sluggish at best, but awake nonetheless.

He figured it was likely some lingering effect from the Guardian’s dream realm, but didn’t dwell on it. His life had way too much else going on to be debating the side effects gained from Guardian powers.

First, he’d been pretty damn convinced two days ago that he was going to be a goner by the end of the month. Completely resigned to die believing that his very existence was scorned by the world he’d been unwillingly born into.

Then Patton had stumbled onto his shitty apartment’s roof, found him in all of his resigned and depressed glory, and changed his life forever.

They’d mostly skipped the whole ‘Human nature is a series of life, death, and rebirth’ spiel that guardians were known to give in these situations because... Well, It wasn’t like they’d really had time to address it before the truth about his soul had come out. That he wasn’t exactly human to begin with.

Virgil didn’t think that Guardians had ever had a situation like his before. There wasn’t a protocol for comforting a kidnapped guardian soul. It’d never been a possibility before!

So it wasn’t surprising then, that Virgil didn’t have any better of a time processing it.

His whole life, all that he’d known to be true, all that he’d believed in? Everything had been uprooted and turned on its head. He’d apparently been living a life that was not supposed to be.

Perhaps for the first time in two days, Virgil realized that the thought of his death at the end of the month had not been consistently worming into his brain. It had once been something he could never seem to stop thinking about.

The death indicated by his soul timer was now perhaps the farthest thing from his mind.

Perhaps the strangest thing so far was that he wasn’t alone anymore. He’d possibly had more physical contact with other people in the short two(three?) days since this adventure started then he’d had in the past 16 years.

And wasn’t it just the cherry on top that he’d also gotten nearly choked out by the very guardian accused of kidnapping his soul in the first place? And now he was considering trusting the damn guy.

Virgil hollowly wondered why he even cared.

Why did he care about staying alive now when he’s spent his whole life believing he never would? Up until two days ago, that belief had still been true. But now? Avoiding death was the goal, Logan had stated as much.

Really, would Virgil lose anything by trusting the banished guardian? Even if the guardian was trying to trick Virgil and got him killed, what difference would it make? That’d always been the goal before. What did he, Virgil, really have to lose?

If it happened that Virgil lived past his twentieth birthday, if he became a guardian like he was supposed to be in the first place. Would he want that? Did he want that?

He wasn’t sure. Didn’t know if he ever had been.

His life had been built on resignation to the inevitable. Nothing seemed to motivate him towards liking or hating that possibility. He was just that.

Indifferent.

And wasn’t that just the greatest revelation of the night? Finding out that you’re indifferent to living or dying.

Once this was all over, if Virgil lived that long, he would make a note to see a therapist. He knew very well that this kind of mindset was unhealthy to keep. It just couldn’t be helped that the nineteen years he’d lived with this particular affliction couldn’t be fixed by a few extra hugs and comforting words.

Even if he didn’t like the fact that death sounded like the more peaceful option.

His thoughts paused, mentally sighing at the downward spiral he’d caught himself in. It was tiring, and going nowhere.

‘For now,’ he decided, ‘I’m just going to see how this plays out. The Guardian said that none of the others remember the truth, or whatever. So, It’s a ‘he said-they said’ situation right now...’

‘I’ll have to keep an eye out for the guy that he warned me about, then. Who knows if he's as dangerous as The Guardian made him out to be. It’s hard to tell with the weird way he has to talk..’

Virgil paused again, a realization striking him. If he could have groaned, he would have. Not once had he been given or even remembered to ask for the name of said Guardian. What was he supposed to call the rogue Guardian now? He couldn’t just keep calling him The Guardian!

Amidst the disbelief of such a slip up, a foreign yet familiar feeling prodded questioningly at his conscious mind. Adding confusion into the mix of emotions, he returned the feeling with a questioning thought of his own.

He briefly heard the Guardian’s whispy voice once more, now acting with permission.

“You may call me Janus”

Then all at once, Virgil woke up.

.

.

.

Chapter Nine

[eveenstar]

remembering the stars ┃Javier Escuella x Jedi! Reader ┃ Star Wars AU

Chapter II: The bear and the witch

❥ Chapter I

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of killing animals (deer and bear), death and war. Reader has she/her pronouns.

Author's note: Hello! Here's chapter 2 of what will become a somewhat short series. We'll see! Hope you enjoy! ❤

Taglist: @bdb1993

The sun was cold today. It felt cold on your back as you went through your day, the memories of last night's occurences haunting your mind like living nightmares. It was currently nine am and most of the gang was already up and on the run around camp. You stayed on your own.

"Mornin' (Y/N)." Hosea, who had been watching you for the past minutes, knew something was off. "Mind keeping company to this old man?"

You gently chuckled and took a seat next to him. "You're not an old man, Hosea." He smiled at you with soft eyes before his hand reached out to yours.

"I saw you and Javier yesterday." You furrowed your eyebrows a bit in confusion. "Look (Y/N), whatever you need, we're here for you."

You watched his serene eyes for a few moments. Hosea had been nothing but a friend to you since you had arrived, it reminded you of your old master. You knew he cared deeply for the gang and would do anything in his power to not let it fall apart. Sadly, not everyone appreciated it.

"Thank you, but it's nothing, really." You assured him but didn't seem convincing enough. "I probably should go, I'm going hunting with Charles."

You got up and ready to leave, yet you felt like more things were left to say. You hoped no one else asked more questions about your past, it was bad enough having to make up a story, omitting certain parts. It didn't matter now; going hunting with Charles wouldn't certainly keep your mind off things.

With a bow in hand, your eyes moved past your lightsaber which was well hidden inside a locked box, underneath other stuff you managed to save. You glanced over to Javier, who smiled and nodded at you before moving his attention back to his guitar. Your feet felt heavy as you walked over to Charles, near the horses.

"Are we taking the horses?" You asked while patting your horse, Warrior.

"I know a place not far from here, but we get there faster with the horses." Charles replied, already on top of his horse. "You got everythin'?" You nodded.

The journey to the hunting grounds Charles had choosen was peaceful. The wind was moving through your hair and kissed your skin with a slight shiver. Not a word was spoken between the pair of you, but it wasn't needed, there was a silent understanding that all needed now was the connection you both felt with nature. The Force was strong with this planet as it was with you.

The journey to Earth was a troubled one. Your ship was in bad shape so you used an escape pod, which ended up crashing in the snow mountains. Fear and confusion clouded your mind as you fought to keep yourself awake while seeking for shelter and help. That was when you ran into Javier and Arthur helping a wounded John. They were shocked, to say the least. «Woman dressed in strange clothes wandering through the snow» was what Arthur described you. You still had your Jedi outfit which took you lots of convincing to fool them to think it was a nurse outfit from Europe. They were all weary of you at first, but you were glad that this specific part of the Unknown Regions was still safe.

With time, you earned their trust and your place. You tried to camouflage your presence from the Force but you didn't close yourself completely to it. Sometimes, when time allowed, you'd meditate and train your abilities. Once you had tried to reach to your master, Plo Koon, but you gave up in fears of being found, yet you knew something had happened to him.

You remember it all as if it was yesterday.

"(Y/N)?" Charles' voice made you jump and you lifted your head to look at him. "Everythin' alright?"

"Yes, just got lost in thoughts. Sorry." You both stopped near the entrance of another forest. Charles explained further the instructions; it was rather easy. There were some deers around here, so if you both managed to hunt two at least, Pearson wouldn't complain about the lack of food for the rest of the week.

"We follow this track and it should lead us to a good spot." He showed you a map marked with red circles. You asked him if he'd been here before. "Once or twice with Arthur. Just be careful with the bears."

The forest felt light. Butterflies flew past you, the birds were singing in the trees, small rabbit played with each other, everything was what it was supposed to be.

Charles and you walked for a few minuted until eventually you reached a spot. Near a small highland and stones to hide behind, there was a deer distracted eating. You didn't enjoy killing animals but you made sure to honor their death. You held tight to your bow, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes you let the Force guide you.

Seconds of silence and you heard the deer falling to the ground right after the first arrow was shot. When you first began hunting with Charles, he was admired by your talent with a bow and arrow, you even taught him a few tricks. You explained that it was your father that taught you.

"Next one is mine." He warned with a smile.

You laughed while making your way to the deer. "Let's see if you're as good as I am." You looked over your shoulder just in time to see a shadow rising from behind Charles, who was unaware of it. "Charles!" It was too late for him to escape in time, so in the heat of the moment you used the Force to hold the bear up in the air.

"What the-" Almost falling to his feet, Charles looked between you and the bear. It was costing you too much of your strenght.

"Charles run, now!" The bear was thrown against a tree while Charles ran behind the fallen rocks and began shooting at the animal, who lost no time in charging towards you. But by the time the bear reached you, he fell to your feet.

"(Y/N), what-what was that?" You blinked a few times before looking back at your friend, who was bewildered staring at you. You reached out to him.

"Charles, please, you can't tell anyone what you saw." You grabbed his hand, holding it tightly. He sighed.

"I knew there was something different about you but...." He hesitated, "Be honest with me, (Y/N). Are you - Are you a witch?"

You could see the worry and confusion behind his dark eyes. He wasn't scared of you, he was confused and curious. You could never lie to Charles more than you already do, was this the right thing to do? Would he understand?

You looked down to your feet with a heavy heart and loud mind.

"No, I am..." You took another deep breath. "I am a Jedi."

There was a tense atmosphere and you were expecting the worst of the worst. Charles remained in silence.

After a few moments, he spoke up.

"You're a J - Jedi?" The name clicked on his tongue as a new word was added to his dictionary. "What is that?"

"I'll explain to you later. Let's just head back to camp before they send someone looking for us." You turned away, already grabbing your things and heading back to your horse in a hurry. You could hear Charles sighing loudly before following after you with the dead deer.

You hoped Charles would keep quiet about this but you'd also have lots of explaining to do now. How are you supposed to explain what the Force and intergalactic civilizations are to a being who comes from a planet that's isolated from everything else? Perhaps Charles was the only one who noticed you were slightly different from the others and maybe something good would come out of this. To have someone who knows you and you can share your thoughts and fears to truly would be a gift of the Force.

But now you still had a three hour long horse ride back to camp with an awkward silence. Let's hope the Force is with you on this one.

[sondepoch]

Chapter 1

Written in the Stars (Lucifer x Angel!Reader)

Four thousand years is a long time. In the absence of your most cherished friend, it feels even longer. But when a certain student exchange program in the Devildom reunites you and Lucifer, things aren't the same. Because four thousand years of separation is a long time. And the love you once felt for Lucifer has changed into something different—something forbidden. But that might not even be your biggest problem, because with each passing day, your holy wings are turning blacker and blacker.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | ✔

MASTERLIST

The weight around your shoulders is unnatural.

You shift the fabric as you stand, gently pushing it back while fiddling with the golden clasp that keeps the thick, Celestial silk wrapped around your body, before forcing yourself to stop. It had been Simeon who had helped you put it on this morning. For good reason, too—the angel is blessed with a surprising degree of lean muscle and strength—but where he could easily carry the cape and drape it around your body, you can barely lift the thing.

It's heavy for a reason, he had told you when helping you wear it. We can't stay in our angel forms at the Academy, so the High Seraphs said that this will help remind us of the weight of our wings.

And while the fabric is definitely as heavy as your wings, it does no justice to the true feel of your snowy feathers, a poor simulation of the holy pinions.

You sigh, pressing your hands against the closest object to stabilize your body, wishing that you could bring your wings out to do so. You'd begged to come here, begged and cried and pleaded with the High Seraphs to give you the chance to see Lucifer one last time before eternally returning to the Celestial Realm, and they'd warned you that the experience wouldn't be pleasant. That you'd be forced to take this unorthodox human form, deprived of your wings and halo, surrounded by demons and the unbearable heat of the Devildom.

But you hadn't faltered then, and you certainly won't falter now.

It's for Lucifer, right? You'd do anything for Lucifer.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you hold your body steady by gripping the tall, wooden chair that Diavolo had been sitting in when he'd greeted the three of you.

"Welcome to the Devildom!" He'd exclaimed enthusiastically, a grin so wide stretched across his face that you couldn't help but offer your own smile in return. The man had been nothing but pleasant when introducing himself to you. Each word, he spoke with purpose. His tone bordered on intimidating when he declared his own titles—proudly naming himself Lord Diavolo, overseer of the nine circles of hell, heir to the Devildom, prince of the abyss—but he immediately expressed what a pleasure it was to meet your acquaintance, honorably referring to you all with your own titles. Again, with purpose. His formality was to remind you that you're all just as important to your realms as he is to his. Just as crucial, powerful, and strong.

"Luke," He had proclaimed with a smile, his grin almost proud as he gazed upon the youngest of you three. "Child of Chamuel, heir to the twelfth Holy Protectorate." He'd then turned to your best friend, the oldest of the group: "Simeon: child of Selaphiel, defender of the High Seraphs." And last, but absolutely not the least, he had faced you. "MC: child of light, equalizer of the Celestial Realm."

The man had proceeded to shower you all with gifts, casually instructing his butler to have the larger presents delivered to Purgatory Hall, the location of your year-long stay. He'd offered to give you all a tour of the Devildom, looking almost eager as he began leading you out the door—but he hesitated at the last minute.

"Ah, MC." His eyes watched you carefully as he spoke, waiting to see your reaction. "If you don't mind, would you be alright with staying here? Lucifer explicitly requested that he be the one to greet and show you around, though it's entirely understandable if you should wish to remain with the group for—"

"Not at all!" You'd exclaimed immediately, excitement flooding your veins at the mention of the man who's been dominating your thoughts for the past four thousand years. Diavolo's relief was apparent at your immediate acceptance of his offer, and you almost had to laugh.

Had he been concerned that you wouldn't want to be alone with Lucifer? Surely he's heard all the stories about the Morningstar of light and the equalizer of the heavens. Did he think your feelings for Lucifer would have changed after his fall? You chuckle to yourself, shaking your head. For all the stories and songs written about the two of you, people never seem to understand the true depth of your love for Lucifer.

Then again, the written history has never done a good job at portraying truth, has it?

You sigh, turning your head to stare out the windows of the room. This is the Student Council Office, you know. Small wonder. It has a marvelous view of the entire RAD campus, and really, you don't think you'll have the full map memorized even after you've spent a year here.

You smile, eyes skirting over the immense campus.

You, Simeon, and Luke had arrived in the Devildom just as the sun was beginning to make its journey back under the horizon; by now, the sun has almost completely set. Still, the remnants of its illumination light up the various fountains and statues littered around the campus. There are eight buildings set up for classroom use, nine buildings in total—likely modeled after the nine circles of hell—and each is connected by a modernistic sidewalk three wingspans wide. Every intersection is marked by a different ornamental tablet, engraved with what you can only assume is Devildom history, and the last remaining rays of sunlight jump off the various metals like fiery dancers of dusk. There's a large field in the distance, where you see six demons playing some sport you don't recognize, and you'd stare even longer at the strange forest in the background if not for the sound of a door opening behind you.

You freeze.

All of a sudden, you wish you hadn't been staring out at the window but at the door instead, because your body is stiller than the statues you'd been admiring outside, unwilling to move an inch.

Fingers tensing around the chair you'd been casually gripping, you feel your throat bob as you swallow, your mouth suddenly dry.

It's the moment you've been waiting for.

There's no doubt about it: you can feel it in the shift of the darkness in the room, in the subtle scent of the cologne that after all these years he's still wearing, in the quiet but sharp breath he takes that you were once so used to hearing.

Mustering up all the courage you have, you turn your head, preparing yourself for what you've been waiting four thousand years for.

Your head moves slowly, impossibly slow. You can't bring it to turn any faster, even though all you want to do is see the man you've spent so long yearning for.

And then you do.

A strangled gasp leaves you throat as all your breath deserts you, the man looking as magnificent and glorious and breathtaking as he did the last time you saw him. You stare into his eyes, two red rubies that shine not with holiness or darkness or anything but love as they gaze back at you, and then whatever restraint you had vanishes, and you're throwing yourself into Lucifer's arms: crying, whimpering, sobbing as you embrace him the way you've wanted to for so long.

"MC," he murmurs softly, his own voice thick with emotion as he lifts you, spinning you around gracefully as he used to so long ago. "What's this?" He asks, gaze traveling to the golden clasp that keeps the dense cape wrapped around your shoulders, wordlessly unclasping it.

And as the Celestial silk falls, so do the last of your inhibitions, leaving you truly weightless in Lucifer's arms as he holds you tighter, fingers running through your hair the way he used to.

You know he's fallen now, a demon, but nothing about him seems different. His embrace is still comforting as he holds you, his hands still rub small circles into your back, he still presses weightless kisses to your forehead as he holds you. Angel or demon, he's still the Lucifer that raised you, the Lucifer that taught you everything you know. He's still Lucifer.

"I missed you," You whisper, well aware that he can feel your tears as you bury your head in his neck. "So much."

"I know," He murmurs back, his voice carrying the rare softness that he only unveils for you. "I've missed you too."

The two of you remain like that for far longer than is necessary, simply basking in the blissful feeling of being together until even the sun has gone down, knowing that its warmth is unnecessary now that the two of you have each other.

Even when Lucifer finally begins to pull away, you let out a reluctant whine. You've been deprived of his company for four thousand years, surely he can give you one more minute?

"Don't look at me like that," He says, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Come. Don't you want a tour of the campus? You'll be staying here the entire year, after all."

You grudgingly agree, removing yourself from Lucifer's arms while staring at the fabric on the ground. Now that it's off your shoulders, you certainly do feel much more free—but Simeon was absolutely right. No matter how heavy the fabric was, it really did remind you of your wings. You feel naked without it.

Lowering your body to the ground, you summon all of your strength in an attempt to lift the thick cloth up, trying your best to raise it higher than a foot off the ground. Next to you, Lucifer lets out an audible laugh as he watches you struggle until, finally, you collapse to the ground. "I give up," You mumble, light pants escaping your lips. Your muscles genuinely ache as you look up at your old friend, a defeated expression cast on your face.

"Celestial silk, is it?" Lucifer crouches, lifting the fabric. "Even heavier than I remember, but still manageable." He smiles lightly as he finds the clasps, fingers deftly hooking the golden fasteners in place until the cape is secured around your body once more.

It's a comfortable motion for you, and familiar, too. When Lucifer was still with you in the Celestial Realm, he had taken it upon himself to be your guardian—understandable, given the nature of your birth—and had practically raised you himself. It was Lucifer, who whispered stories to you every night until you slept. Lucifer, who taught you how to cook and bathe and read. Lucifer, who would help you dress in the mornings, while you blankly sat on the floor, just as you're doing now.

"Why are you wearing something so heavy? I doubt you can even stand straight for long, when this weighs as much as you." The demon's expression is intrigued as he pinches the fabric between his gloved fingers.

"It's not just me. Simeon is wearing the same thing. His cloak is even longer, actually, and heavier, too. And it's really bothersome, but without this, it just feels so unnatural to be in this form. At least, with this around my shoulders, it feels like I still sort of have my wings."

Lucifer nods. "That's smart. I think that was the hardest adjustment after the fall. It took me a while to figure out how to walk normally, without my wings weighing me back. Even in my demon form, I..." He trails off, a dark look cast on his face. You hold your breath, waiting for him to continue, but he says nothing.

"Lucifer?" You ask, bringing a hand to his cheek, gently angling his face back toward you. "After the Great Celestial War and your fall, I heard...the messengers would say..." You swallow, realizing that beating around the bush isn't going to help either of you right now. "They said you lost your wings."

Lucifer's eyes widen in surprise, and the shocked response is enough to tell you that the rumors were false. But then the demon's gaze darkens once more, and you can't figure out what's going on in his head.

When he next speaks, his voice is soft, quiet enough to be lost in the sound of your own breathing, if you're not careful. "If I show you my true form, will it scare you?"

Your breath hitches in your throat.

His true form. His demon form.

Against your will, the image of Lucifer's angel form flashes through your mind—the image you'd cut out from your history textbook, before anyone could take it away. A time when Lucifer's pride had been given to him by the realm, rather than stemming from within him. When he had six divine wings and the Mark of the Blessed on his forehead. Dressed in full white garb, every fine detail outlined in rubies and gold, you've never stopped picturing that Lucifer as the true Lucifer in your mind.

But times have changed.

Four thousand years have passed, and the Lucifer who dressed in white is no longer a reality.

"Show me," You whisper, voice earnest.

Closing his eyes, it takes barely a second for Lucifer's darkness to manifest, the black wings curling around his frame and the familiar Mark of the Blessed on his forehead. But only after a second look do you realize that neither are quite the same—the six wings you're used to seeing being reduced to four, and the mark on Lucifer's forehead something twisted, something unholy, no longer shining with light: a small diamond of skin blackened with the retraction of whatever blessing was once laid upon his fair head.

"Lucifer..." You whisper, unable to say anything other than his name. "You're beautiful."

The demon's eyes, once dropped to the floor, look up at you in surprise, evidently not expecting to hear that of all things. Indeed, the light favored Lucifer brilliantly, but the darkness brings out a different side of the man: unfamiliar, strange, and foreign—but undeniably beautiful, in its own right.

Before he can say a word against you, you wrap him in another embrace, this time letting your hands run along his wings, savoring the sensation. Their color may have changed, but they're just as soft as you remember, each feather delicate and majestic. You allow your hands to trail all the way to where they meet at Lucifer's back, hesitating before running your hands along the small strip in between the four wings.

A shudder travels through Lucifer as your fingertips graze the spot. "Don't—don't—"

You calmly move your hands, sliding them back into the wings you love, understanding that you must have been touching the location where Lucifer's two center wings were ripped out during his fall. The sheer thought is painful enough; you can't begin to imagine how awful it must have been.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have been there for you," You murmur into Lucifer's ear, kissing the black diamond on his forehead. His body trembles once more, but he welcomes your touch, gripping your shoulders tightly even as he slowly shifts back to his human form. It's a long time before he speaks, but when he does, he's composed once more.

"Don't be. I was relieved that the High Seraphs had the sense to keep you locked away during the Great Celestial War. You would have done something foolish, like get yourself banished with me." You don't respond, knowing all too well that you'd entertained the thought numerous times. "Come," Lucifer murmurs, finally standing up. "It's time I gave you the tour I promised."

You nod your head, attempting to stand up. Key word: attempting. Your silk cloak drags you back down before you can even straighten your legs, causing you to collapse rather ungraciously on the floor.

"How did even manage to put this on in the morning?" Lucifer asks, shaking his head as he bends down and lifts you to your feet. "You can barely stand properly. Did you enchant it with a spell or some such?"

"Not exactly. I still struggle a bit when it comes to object enchantments." You hide a faint blush, sheepishly glancing away. "Simeon helped me dress this morning."

You glance up at Lucifer, only to see him averting his eyes, a strange expression wrapped around his face. You don't recognize the look, but before you can ask Lucifer about it, he's speaking: "I see. That much is unsurprising, I suppose." His voice is calm and controlled, but from his face, you can tell that it's taking all his effort to do so. He feigns a sense of casualness, not meeting your eyes. "There have been rumors in the Devildom about you and Simeon. That the equalizer of the Celestial Realm and the defender of the High Seraphs are...involved." You don't comment, but Lucifer almost seems to choke on that last word. Still, you let the man continue, watching as his steady voice wavers. "I suppose the rumors are true?"

Your lips twitch in amusement.

Is it jealousy that's casting Lucifer's face into this unappealing frown, the demon desperately trying to conceal his distaste but failing so miserably? You're unable to stop a brief sound of laughter from escaping your lips, a quick shake of your shoulders, but Lucifer catches it.

"What. What? What?" His voice is sharp, irritated as he gives you his usual glare, one that you've missed all too much.

"Simeon and I are friends," You tell him, eyes twinkling with mirth. "Nothing more, Lucifer. There's no need to be jealous."

"I am not jealous," The demon hisses, eyebrows fuddling together in a demonstration meant to be intimidating, but you only find it cute.

"Relax!" You exclaim, consciously stopping yourself from squealing with merriment. "I was only teasing. I would never involve myself with another man—didn't I promise you that I would get your approval before doing so?"

Lucifer's eyes widen in surprise, as if he'd long forgotten that exchange. But his next words reveal that his thoughts were quite the opposite: "I didn't realize you had any recollection of that promise."

"How could I forget?" You ask, the memory clear in your mind even to this day.

"It's just..." Lucifer sighs softly, his eyes dropping to your hair, where he brushes a strand of the (h/c) behind your ear. "You were only a child when you said it."

"A child? Lucifer, I grew up in a literal hour," You argue, recalling how the High Seraphs had described you being born as a baby and then having turned into a young woman before they'd even had the chance to give you a name. It's angel stuff—not wholly unheard of, since Lucifer's birth was somewhat the same, but definitely not the most common thing out there. Then again, nothing about the story of your birth is common.

"Yes, but you'd only been in the realm for three days. You might have looked older, but you were young and inexperienced in the ways of the world, foolish enough to make such a preposterous promise." Lucifer chuckles, crossing his arms as he remembers your youth. "I do hope that you haven't been denying your heart on my account? As long as the suitor makes you happy, I would support any union you might partake in."

"I know, Lucifer." You smile up at the man. He may be a demon now, but inside, he's still the man you adore. You press a delicate kiss to his cheek. "When I made that promise to you, you told me the same thing."

***

Lucifer had promised Diavolo that he would handle your student tour of the RAD, that he would show you all the prettiest fountains and loveliest statues and best restaurants. And when he'd assured his prince of such a thing, he had been sincere.

But as he leads you out of the student council building, there's really only one thing he deems of immediate importance: how to get to the House of Lamentation from your residence in Purgatory Hall. Doubtless, he'll ensure that he's there to accompany you the first few times, but as he makes the walk with you, he can't help but feel a familiar sense of worry bubble in his stomach.

A part of him still can't believe that it's been four thousand years since he last saw you.

You've barely changed.

Your smile is still just as bright, your hands are just as soft, your hair dances in the wind the exact same way—but there are subtle differences, too. Lucifer swallows as he notes the womanly shape that you've taken on over the centuries, the small of your waist, the curve of your hips, the tantalizing dip of your collarbone.

The demon is unable to take his eyes off you, desperately wondering who in heaven designed your uniform. Diavolo had decided not to force the standard RAD uniform on any of the exchange students, and for good reason. The Devildom is too close to hell, and unbearably hot for anyone that isn't already used to its temperature.

But Lucifer had still expected the angels to be wearing somewhat modest clothes. He'd assumed that they'd arrive in angel attire, the garb simply enchanted with spells to resist the heat. Not these outfits that resemble the strippers he's seen in Asmo's clubs!

His eyes are glued to the thin mesh fabric covering your shoulders. It does an awful job of concealing skin. In fact, it only draws more attention to your upper body and—really—does the outfit have to be sleeveless? And is it truly necessary for the sides of your waist to be exposed?

Lucifer exhales lightly, his jaw tensing. None of his brothers would dare try anything inappropriate with you, you're too precious to them for that, and he'd do his best to shield you from the lustful eyes of his peers. But even then, how long would Lucifer be able to protect you from himself?

He forces himself to look away from your body, knowing that he would kill a lesser demon for the very thoughts reverberating through his own mind.

It's ridiculous that he even feels this way, he reasons with himself. He's practically your older brother. He knows you think of him as such. So why is he looking at you like a woman, when he should be looking at you as a sister?

Off limits. Lucifer scowls, staring forward as he drills the word into his mind. Off limits. MC is off limits. MC is off limits!

But the more he tries to ignore you, the more he's drawn to you, to the light sway of your hips as you move, to the elegant grace you've cultivated over the years, the dazzling smile that he can only describe as enchanting, where it had once been cute and endearing.

Is it because he's a demon, that he feels this way around you? Because it's now in his nature to give in to temptation, where it had once been in his blood to resist? The thought weighs heavily on his mind, because that means that it would be impossible for you to ever feel the same way about him. And as much as Lucifer hates himself for thinking it, that prospect seems to be even worse than the notion of you being foolish enough reciprocate his feelings.

"Lucifer?"

The demon halts his thoughts, staring at you in surprise. "I'm sorry, MC. My mind was elsewhere. What were you saying?"

He watches you giggle, an action he's seen you do thousands of times, but it's never made him feel such a strong urge to wrap his arms around you and hide you away from everyone else.

"I was talking about your youngest brother. Though I think he's been named the fourth-born? I'm talking about Satan. I know he was born a little before the Great Celestial War began, but the High Seraphs isolated me immediately after, so I still haven't met him. Do you think he'll like me?"

Lucifer blinks. You've certainly grown, but you've still retained your angelic innocence. "Don't be ridiculous," He murmurs quietly. "How could anyone not like you?"

The beaming smile you give Lucifer is worth the agitation he feels when he realizes how smitten he is with you.

You're off limits, he tells himself once more. Off limits.

Just as he will not allow any other demons to lay a hand on you, he will not allow himself to touch you.

"MC?" He asks, eyes glued to your exposed shoulders, all too aware of how it's only furthering the temptation within him. When you turn to him, a questioning gaze on your face, it's all he can do to take off his coat without letting his embarrassment show on his face. "It's cold." It's not. "Wear my jacket for the time being."

Wordlessly, he helps you slip it onto your shoulders, lifting the Celestial silk for you and then unclasping it altogether, not failing to notice the blissful sigh you give as he takes the weight into his own arms, allowing you to freely slip into his jacket.

He breathes a sigh of relief when you continue talking, the demon finally eased of the tempting sight of your exposed body. He turns back to you, hoping to listen to whatever subject you're currently ranting so passionately about.

And fails.

Even with his jacket wrapped around you, Lucifer finds that his gaze is just as hungry as before, only further stemmed along by the sight of you in his clothes, your smaller figure entirely enveloped by his jacket.

By his side, Lucifer's hand clenches into a fist.

Thou shalt not covet, he tells himself, the words still engraved on his heart after all these years. Thou shalt not covet. But staring at you, talking so animatedly next to him, so comfortable and trusting by his side, he can't stop.

No matter how many times the words echo in his mind, they fall short of his heart.

He covets.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | ✔

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: And that's the first chapter of this series :D Just so you guys know, I currently plan to update this work on Tuesdays and Saturdays - and based on my current drafts, this whole thing will be either 8 or 9 chapters, so not too long! I hope that you enjoy this - things start to get real in the next chapter <3 Expect a slight slow burn? Ngl, I've done more planning than usual for this fic, but this project is also bigger than I'm used to taking on - regardless, I'll do my best to make sure that the content I give you guys is my best effort :D

Comment & Like

Next Update: 5/23/20

I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

[heleizition]

I am just now finding out about your chosen one au and must know more

ok so i decided to copy paste everything i wrote to my friends when talking about it so its gonna be long Oups ... but it's the most complete ill ever be about it !

so this is set in a universe where gods, old and new are very present and usually they have humans serving them, regularly called chosen ones, every century or so. it's considered an honor and every sanctuary and gods have different missions for their chosen ones and it can go from taking care of the temple every week while being allowed to have their own life to go on a mission to erradicate evil. humans usually know that they are destined to be taken in by gods because of marks on their body, specific to the god(s) they'll serve. the mark starts to glow and guide them to where their god is waiting for them once the god decides they want them.

the story is set on an island stuck between two different temples. on the island stands gotham which is a strangely sunny city,  and then you have the deep sea in the bay, and the deep forest north of gotham. if gotham is mysteriously devoid of bad things, its because it's been giving every century a child to the old gods temple in the deep forest. and time is coming, soon, another one will go.

so here you have the wayne family, they mostly have the same backgrounds ? kind of ? cass's parents were mercenaries that went into the deep forest, where no one (haha) in gotham dares going due to fear of breaking the old gods protections, never came back, and left cass on her own in town. bruce adopted her. dick's parents were travelers on a ship that sailed not far from the island and while they did not survive, the gods in the deep see allowed dick to stay alive until he reached the coast. immm not quite sure of what happened to jason's parents yet but uh he's here and alive woo

damian is a bit of a mystery to most people. he was delivered to bruce's doorstep when he was only a few days old. what they dont know is that nine months earlier bruce went into the deep forest himself. 

so added to that is timothy drake. young boy of the drake family, the two parents who dont seem to care for him much. the boy is quiet but full of smiles and affection to give and when jason and cass drag him to the wayne estate after a day out, bruce opens his arms to him. he's a regular at the wayne house and a few days after he turns 11, he stops showing up. bruce's kids cant find him. the drakes dont seem disturbed by their missing son. and bruce knows the drakes by now, know they wouldnt give their affection to someone they knew would disappear, and bruce realises tim is gone, to the old gods in the deep forest. 

so tim, 11, wakes up sweating and his room lit up with a green light that he's never seen before but in dreams and he knows that it's time. he knows that this strange mark spreading across his back, shaped like a dragon, is glowing green. he's being called.

he moves by himself, not thinking, opens the door to his room and the one that leads outside and it's so fitting when he notices that his parents arent even home, that he'd leave without them caring. soon he's reaching the deep forest and for the first time in his life, when looking at the dark depth, he's not scared, and he walks on. 

tim walks and walks and there are eyes looking at him bu the soft green glow reassures him, and he knows where he should walk, and soon he's reaching a temple, strong stone and green plants and a setting sun carved on its floor, and there is a man - a god ? - walking out. and his eyes are glowing green like the mark he knows is glowing in his back, but it feels wrong, and when tim looks around again everything looks so much hostile, 

tim made researches on the deep forest temple, since he knew it was gonna be his future, and he knew that temple was supposed to host old gods who were dying, so why does it feel so wrong ?

tim approaches, despite himself, and waits for the man - god??? - to say anything. there is a hand, wrinkly and uncomfortable and cold, on his cheek, and tim looks up, and he's shivering when the god - he knows hes a god. he knows he is now. - speaks up.

"i am ra's al ghul. you were given to me to serve me. you will obey me in any way i see fit, and you are to never return to your human town." 

tim did make researches before he was taken. he knew that usually the child taken by the deep forest gods could travel to town without punishment. he knew that, with pattern, they were taken early, before they turned fifteen. he knew that he would most likely be lucky, have a mostly free life. he didnt know that a new god in quest of power had taken over, chained some of the old gods inhabiting the temple, killed others, simply for power and magic. he didnt know that he would be chained to a scary and cold temple, with a terrifying and powerful god that could turn him to dust on a whim. 

so thats basically,,, the intro ? the first part ?

so a few months after tim disappeared, it was jasons turn. 

jason, much like tim, had marks on his wrists and arms, long lines following his limbs. they're signs of being of the all caste temple, chosen one for those gods. for the ones in the deep sea. now these humans linked to temple in the sea are a bit different than the kind that tim was supposed to be. the all castes purpose is protection, and while there always is a human chosen for them, they're not always called for their purpose, in fact, no all caste chosen one had been guided to the temple in the deep see in generations.

however, one day, jason woke up, glowing white lines on his arms, told dick that he had to go to the sea, and disappeared for months.

jason doesn't remember going into the sea when he wakes up in the temple, doesnt know how he survived the journey there, but he's there, by the will of the gods, and he's informed of his purpose.

something hover over the island. something bad. it's already there, its root in the islands ground, and it must be killed. that will be jason's purpose. he doesnt know where. he doesnt know when. he knows it will happen.

so they train him. they give him the weapons and magic he will need to defeat the enemy. they want to protect the island and its inhabitant.

several months later, jason leaves again, with new knowledge and strength, and washes up on the beach, and dick finds him, unconscious. he brings him back to the wayne estate, where he tells his tale of sea gods and protection and prophecy where he is the hero.

years pass. its been about nine years since tim disappeared, since jason went to the sea temple for the first time. damian is 16 and damian wants answers from his father. he knows he's from the deep forest. he knows his mother is there. he wants to meet her, he wants to know her. but bruce never talks about her, never says anything about their meeting, like he was commanded not to, and damian decides to go against all beliefs he has grown with and he prepares. he will get in the forest. he will find his mother.

except jason know his little brother and he knows and sees him planning and on the night he leaves, jason is here, not stopping him, but ready to follow him into the forest. he has a feeling. something is there for him too .

so they travel in the forest, they're not really sure how to find damian's mother with how little bruce ever said about her, and they find creatures along the way, some of them recognize damian as one of their kin, which is how they realise damian's mother is either part god or part spirit, and jason as a god's messenger. they do not guide them, but they do not attack them. 

until they walk into a territory they feel they shouldnt have walked into

a small being with wings and claws attacks, telling them to not trespass, it's smaller than jason had been at 14, but it's furious and cold and it strikes right. and when jason finally looks up he's terrified to see that he recognizes the child in front of him. and its wrong, because tim should have been nineteen by now, but he doesnt look older than 15. 

finally the fight draws to a close when jason calls out for tim, a name he musnt have heard a lot, or not recently, not with care and not without an order behind it. tim stops. tim looks. he recognizes the boys in front of them, even if its been nearly ten years. after all they were two of the last humans he ever saw.

"you cant be here. you cant be here if he knows he will kill you and i cant let you die. please you need to go"

im not quite sur how they get tim to follow, or if they get in ra's territory, but they camp in a safe zone with tim, and tim tells them his story

[torture mention, non consensual body modification]

after ra's took him, he tortured him, he experimented on him. after all he was his first ever human tribute, to obey and be controlled at will, a toy for an immortal, and after many games of the new god, he settled on making tim a sentinel for his property, one that will age slowly and wont feel pain, a puppet with no strings but one that is scared of ra's power, enough that it will obey. jason and damian are Angry. something at the back of jason's head tells him that this ra's might have something to do with his own prophecy. 

so after that its more blurry but tim reacts strangely to damian, he's a bit scared of him and he figures out it's bc of his heritage, that he has links to ra's, and he leads them to talia who's half god half spirit and hidden deeper and deeper in the forest, away from her father, and it makes tim leave the territory he's supposed to guard, disobey ras, which makes ra's angy bc tim never disobey, not since the first few times when he was 12/13 and thought he would still get out,,,

so there is a bit of a final showdown w tim talia jason and damian facing ra's, ra's using his hold on tim to hurt him, and talia torn between her father and her son + tim who she's seen grow up from far away and who she feels she should have protected from ra's,, jason eventually has a one on one with ra's and the prophecy does happen and he kills ra's and angry old gods who were chained in the temple wake up and banish ra's soul from this realm.

they heal tim from whatever ra's did to him, with the promise that he will travel to care for the god's temple again, as his duty was supposed to be 

they all get back to gotham, tim still looks 15 but will grow to his real age within a few months, he has many scars and the mark on his back changed for a setting sun like what was carved on the temple's entrance, damian has his Mom, and jason is free from his all caste duty.

the end woooo this is over 2k long rip !! feel free to ask if u got more questions :0 !!

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

A familiar Soul - Chapter Nine

Summary: Hilda decides to be completely honest with her mother, surprised when she seems to be a lot more in on magic than Hilda had expected her to be.

With her daughter’s association with witches, Johanna is forced to face some secrets of her own, bringing her back to feelings and people she’d rather have left behind

Dealing with insecurities and inner demons of her own, Kaisa finds herself face to face with the very issues that brought her to be so displeased with her own abilities

Or: the one where Johanna is Kaisa’s familiar

Notes: I suppose this is more of a filler chapter, but I hope you could enjoy some shippy fluff anyways. And look! We’re over the half way mark now :D

Read it on ao3: (chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7) (chpt8) (chpt9)

The second time Matilda hears that story, the atmosphere is astoundingly different.

She pretends to never have heard about the recent happenings in the sewers, of course, because Frida sounded so excited about her success that she wanted to give the girl an opportunity to ramble about it all she wanted, without leaving any detail out. Tildy would be the first to admit she was no actress, but she thought she did quite well with making exclamations of surprise, worry and wonder at just the right times, all the while feeling the warmth of pride fill her chest.

Hilda had come with her that day, and even though she wasn’t as thrilled with the recent adventure as her witch, it was stark clear that she wasn’t traumatized or scarred from it like any other person would be. If there was anything bothering her, it seemed to have been her mother’s attitude, but she hadn’t talked much about it and Tildy hadn’t pressed her. Still, the sorceress couldn’t deny that the outcome could have easily been tragic had her apprentices taken any longer to arrive, and as someone who cared about Hilda that truly didn’t sit well with her. Besides, she had made a promise to Johanna, after all.

Having been told that story by Kaisa right after it had happened, she had had enough time to prepare for the girls’s next visit. On top of the small table by the door, there were two miniature drawstring velvet bags, the sort that was used to carry crystals when a witch wished to take them on a trip. Inside those two, however, there were no precious stones, and Tildy picked them up when she had finished congratulating Frida for her magic feat.

“Only one thing worries me.” As nonchalantly as she could, Tildy weighed the two bags on her hands, making sure they felt the same. “If something of the sort happens again, you might not be as close to Hilda, or vice versa. I made some of this for both of you, and it would make this old woman a lot calmer if you could promise to keep it with yourselves at all times.”

Frida took the bags from her hands and passed one on to Hilda, whose curiosity immediately led her to opening it. A bluish glow lit up the underside of her face as she stared inside, amazed. It looked like Tildy had captured all of the stars in the sky and trapped them in that tiny satchel.

“What is this?” Frida asked as she looked over Hiilda’s shoulder and into her friend’s bag. The scent of seawater tickled her nose, and traveled down to her lungs making her feel like she was on the beach on a stormy day.

“Enchanted kraken shell powder.”

Hilda gasped “Kraken shell?!”

“Enchanted powdered kraken shell. Should one of you ever be in danger, the other needs only to step on some amount of the powder and find themselves instantly by their side. Crafty, isn’t it?”

Blinking, Frida tried to get past her surprise. Yes, it was crafty, but most of all it was impossible. Wasn’t it?

“Tildy, how on earth did you get this?”

Her mentor shrugged. “I know people. And the kraken was already dead, so worry not for that.”

While Frida tried to comb her mind for any spell that had a similar end and could be manipulated to have that same result, attempting to figure out how such an awe inspiring feat was done, Hilda’s head was already filled with ideas of how useful that could come in the future.

“That’s so cool!” She exclaimed. “Could it work with other people too?”

Dialing Hilda’s excitement down, Tildy moved her head left to right in a negative gesture. “This powder only works between witch and familiar. That’s why it's so rare. Familiars are usually treated as pets, so they rarely stay away from their witch at all.”

“But how are we supposed to know when the other will need help if we’re not close by?’

“But that’s the exciting part!” Tildy clasped her hands together in glee. “I think it’s time for you two to learn about the call!”

Though she herself didn’t know what that was about, Hilda noticed Frida gasp softly; no doubt her witch had already read about that.

“That’s really true? I tried to send the call to Hilda one day to test it but… I don’t think it worked.”

“Wait, what?” Hilda turned to her friend while her mentor watched them with amusement. “I never got any call from you.”

“That’s why I’m saying it didn’t work, Hilda.”

“The call isn’t something you get, darling.” Moving past them, Tildy began walking in the direction of the room where they did their magic training. It was the girls’ cue to follow her. “It is something you feel. The bond between witch and familiar is so strong that you are able to send a signal of sorts to each other, but you have to properly learn how to do it first. Once this ability is activated, you never lose it.”

“So cool!” Both of them gasped at the same time as they followed on the sorceress’s tail.

Turning the brass knob clockwisely and sending a jolt of magic through it (after all, what kind of witch would she be if her spell room was protected only by mundane ways?), Tildy opened the door to allow them in.

“It’s good to see your excitement! Shall we begin?”

_#_#_#_

Even though Kaisa would be the first to say that rainy days were her favourite, she had to admit to being glad for the sun shining brightly that afternoon. The event would be ruined otherwise, and that would make Johanna terribly upset.

Children of different ages ran excitedly through the stands that were put up in the field near the Sparrow Scouts Hall, playing games which Kaisa couldn’t recognize or gathering close to said stands. The Raven Leader had had the idea of introducing the children to different crafts, in order to try and make them interested in parts of their culture that weren’t given much attention. Being one of the senior Sparrow Scouts, Johanna had taken upon herself great part of the responsibility for organizing that event, and Kaisa even had accompanied her to those professionals’ houses to be with her when she made the invitation. Artisans with a wide range of different abilities now showed their skills to the children, and Kaisa was sure her girlfriend must be feeling really proud of the result of her work.

As she looked for Johanna among the swarm of similarly dressed scouts, Kaisa could only imagine how livid Henrietta would be if she learned that a witch so close to being fully trained was attending such a human event; mingling with non witches was not something she was encouraged to do, and the feeling of rebellion made being there even more worth it. Of course, that still couldn’t compare to the chance of seeing her girlfriend doing something she felt comfortable with.

Kaisa found her in the middle of the crowd, giving information to a trio of children who didn’t know where to begin exploring the event. After sending them on their way to a woman who was demonstrating the making of julehjerters, little decorative hearts of weaved paper, Johanna lifted her gaze and noticed the witch observing her. With a smile on her face, she beckoned Kaisa closer and closed her in a tight hug.

“I’m so glad to see you here!” She chirped into Kaisa’s cardigan, both of them taking a couple of seconds to just hold each other.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Answered Kaisa, looking around without dislodging herself from the embrace. “Are you sure I can be here, though? I only see other scouts around.”

Granted, the witch knew she wasn't the best of influences when it came to following rules, but she still wouldn’t want Johanna to get into any kind of trouble because of her. There were no other outsiders around her, and Kaisa didn’t think stealing a sash from some random kid would be a good solution.

Johanna took a step back, though she kept herself close enough that they were still holding each other’s waits, and smiled. “Don’t worry about it! We were encouraged to call people for the event. I just asked you to come earlier so we could make the most out of it, but people will begin arriving soon enough.”

“‘The most of it?’” Kaisa lifted an eyebrow.

“Of course!” Johanna’s eyes glittered as she tugged on her hand, guiding her girlfriend through the gathering. Kaisa didn’t resist, trusting her girlfriend knew where she was going as she began feeling a scent of flour and hearth in the air, which got stronger with every step they took. “There are things we must try before there are queues! Have you ever eaten a traditional lefse?”

_#_#_#_

Johanna had been right; it didn’t take long before a crowd began gathering on the field, both people who seemed to be there for their Sparrow Scout loved ones or those who only happened to hear about the event and showed up to enjoy the activities. As she’d already worked hard to make that event happen, not much else was expected from her except helping a confused younger scout every now and then, leaving her with time to spend with Kaisa.

Already eating their second serving of lefse with butter, they were discussing a way to find the recipe (Kaisa had offered to use a spell to steal a copy from the stallman, but unfortunately Johanna had stopped her before she had the chance) when one of the faces among the ones surrounding them caught their attention. Not because it was familiar to them in any way, but because there was something unquestionably strange about it. Framed by eerily red bangs, the girl’s eyes seemed to reflect no light at all. Johanna tried to point her out subtly.

“There’s something weird about that girl.” She said, watching Kaisa’s eyes narrow as if she was staring right through the other teenager.

“She’s a marra.” The witch stated with not an inkling of doubt in her voice, even though Johanna couldn’t tell what kind of magic she might have used to reach that conclusion, and turned to her with a sly smile in the corner of her mouth. “Should we do something about it?”

“No, I don’t think we should. Let’s not ruin our lovely day.”

“Anna, where is your sense of adventure?” Kaisa lifted an eyebrow, only half joking. She had noticed that with each passing day her girlfriend became less and less excited about the things they used to do together. It didn't mean that they were drawing apart, since they still always enjoyed simply being together, but sometimes Kaisa worried that things were changing too fast; while Johanna got more mature, she still felt moved by the same things she did as a child. She could only hope Johanna would never outgrow magic. It’s not like Kaisa had anything else to offer her.

“Right here, as always.” Johanna tapped her chest playfully, making Kaisa giggle, and then slid her arm across her girlfriend’s back to keep her close. “But the only adventure I’m interested in right now is being with you.”

Rolling her eyes, Kaisa leaned her head against Johanna’s shoulder and resigned herself to not doing anything. She watched the bustling event with little interest, focusing only on Johanna’s comments about school, her family, the Sparrow Scouts and all the other things happening in her life. Adventurous or not, she would have loved to spend the whole evening like that. Soon, however, Johanna took her arm away from around her witch, which made her look up questioningly.

Johanna was wearing an apologetic expression, trying her best to not look away from Kaisa’s face. The few strands of curly copper hair falling in front of her eyes made her seem disheveled for a moment. “We should probably get going. People are leaving, the place will be deserted soon.”

“Right.” Kaisa sat upright on the bench. “Want to come over for dinner? Tildy said she was making stew.”

The smile that Johanna had managed to put up wavered. “I’d love to, but… not today.”

After so many years, Kaisa recognized that tone of voice, and her own happiness faltered. “Your parents?”

“Yeah.” As a cooler breeze brushed against their skins, Johanna shivered. “They don’t like it that I seem to be out more often than before.”

It took Kaisa effort not to huff. Of course Johanna was going out more; she was trying to get extracurriculars under her belt for when the time came to send out college applications, not to mention how she had taken to helping some of her friends with their studying. How it escaped Johanna’s parents' notice that they were lucky to have a daughter like Johanna, Kaisa didn’t know, but she did take them for fools for it. Though Kaisa had to admit that their wariness of her didn’t get them any points with her either.

She did, of course, know that Johanna was certainly more upset with this than she could be. It was her problem to deal with, after all, and Kaisa wouldn’t make it worse by protesting. As they lifted themselves up to their feet, she tried to smile reassuringly.

“You could come over some other day, then. Don’t worry about it.”

Despite her mood, Johanna’s spirits were lifted by Kaisa’s thoughtfulness, and she leaned in to kiss her girlfriend sweetly on her lips, uncaring of who could see them. She tasted of coffee and of the lefse they’d had some time before, leaving Johanna slightly breathless when she drew back. Their hands interlaced between them as their foreheads touched, they had to make an enormous amount of effort to let go.

“Good evening, then.” Kaisa whispered, wondering how on earth the day had passed by so fast. If she thought such magic even existed, she would have suspected of some wicked witch casting a spell to steal their time from them. “And good luck.”