#yeah he /can/ heal but he's convinced he's causing harm and making things worse

[devildomdisaster]

I’d like to request a body switching scenario with [Satan, Asmo, Beelz, Solomon, Simeon] and an Gender Neutral MC with undisclosed chronic health issues. Like brittle bones that break if you step a little goofy, stress ulcers, sensitivity to light, joint pain, poor stamina, etc. I just want to see the boys go “You live like this?!”

Satan:

Satan has a habit of collecting rare magical objects. Somehow quite a few of these cause body-switching incidents.

The cursed object causes the two of you to lose consciousness for a few minutes. When he wakes up he is in immediate pain.

His first thought is that the spell must have caused this and you must be in pain too! If he, a demon, is in this much pain it must be excruciating for a human.

He rushes to you or tries to. But falls to his knees in shock as a shooting pain runs through him.

He blinks watering eyes and sees his body stirring on the floor and realizes you’ve switched bodies.

You sit up feeling better than you’ve felt in years. Wondering if this is ‘normal’ or if that cursed object gave you super healing.

It’s only when you hear your own voice calling your name that you realize you and Satan have switched bodies.

You can see the tears in his(your body's) eyes and know exactly what's happening. You’ve had chronic pain for years. And Satan is sitting in just the right way to send shooting pain up your spine.

“Lay down on your back,” you order him. He has just enough control to follow your order and lower your body down slowly.

You can see Satan’s relief on your face as the pain eases slightly. It takes a moment for the worst of the pain to subside and his breath to even out.

He’s staring at the ceiling when he speaks, voice still a little shaky, “You live like this?”

You hum out a yes.

“All- all the time?” he asks, horrified.

“Sometimes it's worse than others. If I move or sit in certain ways it gets real bad. But if I avoid those movements it’s bearable.”

Satan turns to you “This is what you call bearable?!”

You shrug, “That position is usually pretty safe. So yeah probably.”

He is careful to move your body a little as possible as he shifts to point at a spellbook. “That book-”

“Are you going to change us back?” you ask.

“I-” he hesitates. Clearly not wanting you to be in pain again.

“Look, Satan it’s not that I don’t enjoy being pain-free. But I’ve dealt with it for years now. I’ve learned how to function around it. I had to. You on the other hand are going to be laying on the floor for most of the day if you stay in my body.”

“I’m going to find a way to fix you.” He says firmly as you place the book in his hands.

“Promises, promise,” you sing, preparing yourself to experience the pain in your body again.

“I mean it. As soon as I can move again I am going to find a way to help you. Devildom magic has to be better than human medicine.”

Asmo:

Asmo bought you matching bracelets. “Look Mc, I bought us these bracelets! They are supposed to bring us closer together!”

Well, they did bring you closer together. Just not in the way Asmo intended.

When he clasped the bracelets on, you felt a shiver go down your spine and when you opened your eyes you felt...different. Better. There was no aching pain. For once the dazzling lights of Asmo’s room didn’t cause you to wince. That's when you realize you’ve switched bodies.

Asmo on the other hand immediately cringed and squeezed his eyes closed, clutching his(your) head.

Asmo groaned pitifully, teary eyes squinting at you “Mc, how do you do anything like this??”

He curls up beneath his covers, and you make your way around his room turning off all the lights and closing his curtains. Once the light is gone, Asmo peers out from beneath the covers, “Do you live like this all the time?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“No wonder your room is so dark. I thought you were just being dramatic.”

You shrug at him, “The Devildom is better than the human realm. There’s no bright sunlight here.”

Once the spell wears off, Asmo keeps the bracelet on both as a reminder of how you live with this chronic illness and as the intended purpose of showing how close the two of you are.

He buys you super dark glasses to try and filter out some of the bright light that bothers you.

and asks Solomon to help him find any magical treatments that might help you.

Beel:

Beel and you switch bodies after eating some of Solomon’s cooking.

Neither of you wants to eat Solomon’s cooking, but you had the misfortune to be the only two people who couldn’t find an excuse to get out of it.

Beel doesn’t know how it happened, Solomon doesn’t know how it happened, you sure as hell don’t know how this happened. But here you are with a strange magic ‘cake’ in hand, looking at your body from Beel’s eyes.

Your first thought is how strong you feel in Beel’s body. Like you could do anything. The exhaustion and joint pain you normally deal with is gone.

Is this how normal people live? Although you suppose a demon doesn’t count as a normal human, so it’s not such a good comparison.

You watch as Beel catches himself on the counter as he adjusts to the symptoms of your illness.

He lowers your body to the ground. Sitting gingerly as the movement causes the joint pain to flare.

“Mc, is this how you feel every day?” He is so so concerned about you! How do you function if you feel like this all the time? “Why haven’t you told anyone about this?”

“It’s ok, Beel. I’ve figured out how to deal with it.”

“It is not ok. Mc, we could have helped you!”

It’s strange to be lectured by your own voice and body. But Beel does a good job of it. He insists that you have to tell him when your symptoms act up and convinces you to let him speak with Lucifer about trying some magical treatments.

The potion doesn’t wear off for several hours. You feel a tad bit guilty about enjoying this when Beel is so obviously suffering, but you can’t remember the last time you felt so good. So capable.

Once the spell wears off Beel insists on carrying you around so you aren't as fatigued and to avoid aggravating your joint pain.

Be prepared for trying a string of different potions and spells to treat your illness, under the watchful eyes of Beel and Lucifer.

Solomon:

After hearing about Lucifer and Satan’s body-switching incident Solomon went looking for another cursed book.

He’d heard some rumor about Satan’s book having a twin and was determined to find it.

And find it he did.

You accidentally touched the book at the same time as him and switched bodies.

Solomon is more intrigued than anything else. “Do you live like this all the time? If so, you do a remarkable job of hiding it.”

He is going to test the limits of your body’s capabilities. He wants to know what situations cause pain or discomfort so that you can’t pretend to be ok when you aren’t.

You’ll have to warn him if he is doing anything that might permanently harm your body.

Unlike some of the others, Solomon doesn’t immediately look for a way to switch back.

When the spell wears off Solomon has a near-complete understanding of your condition. He knows what causes pain, what doesn’t, and what situations you should absolutely avoid.

“Mc, you need to stop pretending you are ok when you’re not. I’ll be here to help you when you need it. And if that help happens to be stopping you from doing foolish things to save face then so be it.”

Solomon keeps a close eye on you from now on. He respects you enough to not tell anyone about your condition if you don’t want him to, but he will also come up with the strangest excuses to remove you from activities he knows will aggravate your condition.

If there is magic that can be used to help you Solomon will find it. Just be prepared to feel a little bit like a lab rat while he figures out the perfect spell or potion to help you.

Simeon:

Simeon wants to know what it feels like to be human. He thinks it would give him a greater understanding of humanity.

He mentions this to Solomon, who being the chaos loving wizard he is, makes a potion to allow Simeon to switch bodies with you.

The problem occurs when Solomon 'forgets’ to tell you both that he’s already put the potion in your tea.

Simeon is shocked. He finds himself in your body. Looking at himself through your eyes. And by god does your body hurt!

“Mc, I’m dreadfully sorry, but I think Solomon’s little joke may have gone wrong. I-everything hurts.”

You blink at Simeon...er Simeon in your body. Mind taking a moment to catch up with the sudden body switch. You feel great. Part of that might be due to being in an angel's body, but mostly it's due to the lack of pain.

“Oh, everything's fine on my end. So it must be my chronic pain. It’s worse today than others.”

“Wh-what do you do when it’s bad?”

“Usually I try to distract myself. Or try to take a nap and hope I wake up feeling better. But we’d made plans and I didn’t want to cancel so…”

“So you decided to deal with extra pain for my sake? Oh, Mc. You should have told me you live like this. I can help”

“There’s no point, Simeon. Not a single doctor I’ve been to has found anything wrong with me. I didn’t want anyone here to pity me.”

“I am an angel, Mc. I’m quite sure I can do a bit more than your human doctors.”

You help Simeon to his room where you spend the afternoon watching human world movies to help distract him.

Simeon sleeps fitfully next to you and as you drift off you wonder if that is how you always look when you let your guard down enough to show your pain.

When the potion wears off you are both asleep, curled up next to each other.

When you wake up you are back in your own body. Simeon is sitting next to you slipping a charmed bracelet onto your wrist. “This is from the Celestial realm. It should help keep your pain at a more manageable level until I can find a more permanent solution.”

[kthynes]

the caller you have reached (chris evans x reader)

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

summary: chris was trying to drunkenly call the woman he loved and wanted to get back with but instead he reaches you, a shrink.

warning: swearing (sailor level), brief mentions of mental health

**IMPORTANT disclaimer: I won't be dabbling into the hard hitting topics of mental health in this short only because I'm not a certified health professional and so I can't be providing a written, unbiased, often characterized diagnosis towards any sort of mental health disorder because really, those types of sensitivities need proper care and output. With that being said, I do want to emphasize the notions of seeking help and not being afraid to seek help when needed. It's hard, but we all fight a battle and no battle is big or small or better or worse.

If my followers or readers do feel the need to privately chat with me, I'm here and I can you lend you an ear. Otherwise let's be kind and uplift another while we can. No harm in doing good and being better, that's for sure!

-end rant-

This short is dedicated to the following lovelies:

@princess-evans-addict

@mrs-djokovic

@slut-for-chris-evans

@saltyflowermakertaco

@bitchyslut99

@patzammit

@itskikiyooo

@maximeevansblog

Being a working adult is dreadful but the work you do is the most fulfilling kind of anarchy. You are a therapist, you work to heal and you work together with people who willingly reach out to you and your facility of care. There is that balance, the altering nuances in between that allows you to do what you do best. You advocate for good prosperity of mental health and accolade of teachable moments that fosters a safe space for your clients, not patients, but the people who deserve to be heard and not be medically categorized.

Your salubrious passion keeps you grounded. In your lifetime, you've seen the imperial impacts of poor mental health and it has been a detrimental drive in how you retreat and give back to a small found community.

"Okay." You exhale to yourself while leafing through another client chart. You're working off the clock, stuck in the renaissance of your homey office space while the outside world turns pitch black.

In the appropriate fields you jot down important takeaways from your last sit in session with heavy concertation and reasoning, you try to congregate a treatment plan all before you cellphone cries for you in venturous fashion.

"Hello?" You answer without checking the caller ID, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder so that way you could work and talk.

"Jenny!" The man boisterously shouts. "Jenny baby please talk to me! Let me make it up to you, let's just do this right, please. I'm fucked up here."

"I'm sorry but you have the wrong number." You infringe sounding like the posh, automated answering machine lady.

"Oh what the fuck Jenny — oh cah'mon don't do that, don't be like that baby." You re-verify a local number and it doesn't belong to anyone you know of. So you wonder who this man is but choose not to press further instead you tell him what is right from the knowing wrong.

"I'm not Jenny."

"Seriously?" He yells, forcing you to hold the phone away from your ear. "That can't be... This is—" He recites the number that is similar to yours but the last two digits are off.

"You got 42, not 53." It's an easy mistake to recall, a swipe of a drunken thumb could've mixed that up, so this time around, you're forgiving. Not that it happens often.

"Oh no. That's—" The mystery man trails, something about his voice discerns you, it's familiar but in a hindbrain way that you can't put a finger on. "Fuuuuuuuck."

"Wait hold on, hold up, is this Jenny's assistant, Nina?" You exhale sharply sometimes it takes more than one try and a side of convincing to get your point across and your passiveness was certainly to blame.

"No I'm not her assistant either."

"Then who the hell are you?" He exasperates. You make the snide mistake of telling him your name and he buffers for a bit.

"Oh. So you really aren't anyone of my concern then?"

"No." You mildly retort. "I wouldn't want to be anyways."

"Okay well I'm not sorry then because I'm here trying to reach my girlfriend and I can't get to her because I have you on the line being a smartass." With that accent of his you can tell he's a patriotic Bostonian. One of your own kind and that furloughs your need to engage in this mindless drivel, it wouldn't get you or him anywhere. At least that's what you tell yourself before shutting him down.

"Well then maybe you should learn to listen first, how about that?" You snap, dropping your pen before you note down angry nonsense into your actual work.

"Hey nowwww!" He yells as if he's trying to be Hank Kinsley.

"It's clear that you're drunk."

He brushes you off on the other end, enigmatic in what he wants you to know. "This is Chris Evans, you're talking to Chris-motherfucking-Evans, you hear?"

"I do now." You say tersely.

"Good." He huffs. "Good... Cause you know I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and this is what I get. This is what I seemingly deserve, god you women I swear..."

Your face changes. You don't agree to be a lending ear but somehow Chris forces you to hear him out.

"I told her Y/N. I TOLD her that I wasn't ready to take the next step but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her. And now she throws it back in my face by getting with some other guy she once dated back in high school. And somehow, I'm supposed to be ok with it and move on, as she tells me. How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?"

"I, um, I don't know what to tell you." You sigh somberly.

"Of course you don't!" His Boston twang begins to nerve you as there some remitting frequency of it. Hearing him obnoxiously go off, reminds you of all your shrewd New England exes who were his exact counterpart when soused. A ludicrous memory that you relive again with time and perfect harmony.

"Listen lady all I'm saying is that I fucked up. I know I did alright? I mean it doesn't take much denominational math and the plot of Lost in Translation to get that. I get it!"

Jesus. You whisper the lords name in vain as you lean your forehead against the palm of your hand while your elbow rested on top of the desk.

"So, let me get this straight, you think yelling at a random woman will help get further?" You question a little acutely for his liking.

"I don't know but it sure as hell takes off the heat, sweetheart." Something about a man calling you sweetheart grinds your gears and now your molars.

"Okay, alright, let's talk." You begin, sitting up a bit and tearing out a blank page from your memo pad; you were doing a late night consultation, a small hash out.

"Schuwaaaaa." Chris enunciates the word sure and to much of his mayhem, he’s sprawled out on the curbside, somewhere in the nowhere land of L.A. He contented but also upset and you were simply crashing his little pity party.

"What is it that you want from Jenny?" You professionally prod. "How about we start there."

"Wooooah, what is that we're doing here?” Chris gets mildly defensive with you. “I dunno you like that. If we're gonna talk then you'll have to get through my publicist first because right now I plead the fifth.”

You exhale a deep and fulsome breath. No one troubles you like him. It's sanctimoniously unnerving.

"I'm a shrink, my job isn’t meant to incriminate my clients well-being, or anyone else’s for that matter.” You address calmly. “So, if you do require some solicited advice then we can keep this call under strict confidence. You have my word, Mr. Evans and the paperwork that will follow shortly after this call.”

Silence. There is some shocking silence which is brief before you're catapulted with disbelief and more cackles. "Holy mother fucking shit. You're kidding me?"

"I can run you by my credentials if you’d like?” You mention stiffly.

"God I’ve reached a cuckoo hotline!" Wrong. That's a horrible thing to say and you'd think a man like him would've been more sensitive about his choice of words, inebriated or not.

"Far from it."

"Tell me something, alright? How many grown, adult men come crying to you?" Chris is edging with curiosity even though his eyes are betrayingly reddened after crying into a bottle of Dewars 18. He doesn't make that known to you and you never cared to ask.

"Enough to know that they cry." You simply state.

"Huh. So this is just another Tuesday for you then.” Chris scoff, the bottle making it to his lips and then swishing back down again.

"Comes with the territory except I don't tolerate drunkenness." You motely add. "Can you keep the bottle aside for the time being? Just until we're done here."

"That's understandable and oh yeah sure, sure, I won't touch it." You can hear the glass bottle 'clink' when coming into contact with the pavement.

"Now tell me about Jenny." You softly inquire.

"What do you wanna know? How we fuck or how we met?" Chris giggles like a naughty school yard boy.

"How did you two meet?" You slam the words urgently, nearly spelling out the cause.

"Oh! Oh. We met on the job." Chris chuckles punitively.

"Okay and did you guys connect instantly or was there a slow build up?" You involuntarily took notes for any PR rep of his that wanted solid evidence that would preside this call, cover your bases and your poor ass along with it.

"Instantly. Our chemistry read was off the charts." He explains with a slight hiccup. "Sorry."

"Great. So it was more so a work relationship that later grew into something more correct?"

"Pretty much."

"So when did you start developing feelings for her?"

"Um I'd say..." Chris tucks his chin, burps and then excuses himself before continuing. "Just before we wrapped up filming. But then I think somewhere in between all that I realized that she was my kind of girl, my... better half."

"And what made you come to that realization?"

"Well for one she has this infectious laugh that would have you laughing with her, there's that sound of beauty and pureness to it. And then with that, there were all the little things she'd do for me that made me think, like damn she's the one, she's it for me and that for better or for worse, I'd need her more than she'd ever need me."

Chris gets sad and you feel for him. Your pen stops moving when you were about to prescribe him some mind memory exercises. He was human. Humans hurt. Humans make mistakes. Humans stray but they also love. That's all Chris did. He loved with all of his heart to not expect the same love in return.

"You know Chris, we don't always get the love we deserve and sometimes its sucks. Sometimes you wanna kick it back with a bottle of Dewars 18 and shake your fists in the air." Chris quietly perks up at your choice of alcohol that you didn't know he was forcefully downing. He fashions a small half smile that you don't see but hear faintly. "But there's also a time and a place and things happen, people come apart, people get together, people do people and there's that fine line of letting life run its uneven course."

"I mean you sometimes have to not be okay to be okay again and I know that from my many years of helpful healing. It gets okay, never fully better and I think that's just how it is. You acknowledge your pain, your trauma and then you go on while being mindful of that transition."

"Wow."

"Hey, um, look, I actually have to get going. But if you can, just down the rest of that bottle and get yourself home."

"Are you sure?" Chris gawks.

"I mean you were already halfway through and it's not like I can physically stop you, right? And besides this is what I'm prescribing to you. I want you to acknowledge your pain, drink away your sorrows and then smash that bottle so you can be relieved from that trauma and hurt. After that you need to fix up and start new, have a mature conversation with her, if you can and then have your feet hitting the ground again. Don't fall into the routine of heartbreak even if it becomes too hard, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good." You sniff and start to put things away. "I know you're a good guy Chris, from how you are on TV and in interviews, I'm amazed by how articulate you are. You have the right mindset so I have no doubts that you'll fall back in any way. But if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out, I might have to hand you off to another cohort but nonetheless it can be worked out even if it does feel like you might be sparring on your own. You'll get the help you need."

"Great, thanks." Chris responds in his conscious state of thought. He feels pathetic with himself and that doesn't have you galling over the fact, instead you let him be.

"Do you need me to order you an Uber? Cab? Call a friend for ya?" You laugh easily and Chris hears it clearly, smiling in return.

"An Uber would be nice. I'll try to share you my location."

"Sure, on me and that'd be great."

"Thanks."

"No problem... And your ride should be here in two minutes, just look out for Raul in black Elantra." You inform him after checking your phone.

"Nice."

"You have a goodnight now Chris."

"You too." The line cuts and you're given a piece of your life back. You gather your belongings, flip off the light switch and make your way home. There's some truth and some brokenness in every situation. You knew Chris was going to be OK even if he didn't consult you afterwards. For you, there was no need. He's a smart man and he proves this over a prolonged period of time when he finally finds himself back on the market and then eventually in a relationship with a faceless and very loving woman from his own hometown.

He was finally happy, making you serendipitously glad that you were the caller he had reached.

[going-dead]

Lightning Scars and Listening Ears

Phic phight prompt by @datawyrms : Danny Phantom's jumpsuit is hiding a secret he'd rather not reveal to anyone. (feel free to be metaphorical if you want.) l

Team Human: @currentlylurking​

Most citizens of Amity Park often forgot that Phantom wasn’t human. Sure he would fly through the skies, turn invisible, and shoot ectoplasm at the ghosts who would attack the city on a daily basis, but the way he acted when not saving the city always seemed so alive. That’s where the problem lied though. The ghost kid wasn’t alive, a fact that Amity Park never actually thought much about.

Phantom was playing around with some kids in the park when it all happened. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the boy play with the younger citizens of the city, under their parents supervision most of the time. Seeing him give them piggyback rides and playing tag was actually a common sight when there were no ghosts to fight. Phantom had six different kids hanging off of his arms and legs, apparently trying to tackle him and get him to fall down. The group of parents laughed at the sight as the teenage hero fell to the ground admitting his defeat in a dramatic flourish. “Ahh you got me! Foul villains, you will regret this!” He laughed as he lunged at the closest kid and launched a tickle attack. Childish squeels rang out as the uncaptured children ran trying to avoid being tickled. The little girl in his arms was finally released from her attacker when she turned on Phantom and started to tickle him back. His laughter attracted the other kids who scattered and they joined the counter attack.

“I yield I yield!” He flailed his arms as a dozen little hands tickled any spot they could reach. The kids slowly let up their assault leaving the teen gasping for breath.

One of the children, the girl who started the attack on Phantom, pulled on his arm. “Mr. Phantom? What’s that did you get a owie?” She asked pointing to his neck where part of his jumpsuit wrinkled down revealing a few red raised streaks maring his skin.

Phantom froze eyes jumping over to the adults just a few feet over who had stopped their conversation to try to see what the young girl was asking about. He quickly pulled the collar of his suit back into place. He gave the girl and the other kids surrounding him a pained smile. “Yeah I did get an owie. Don’t worry though I’m fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Suddenly blue frost escaped his lips, the adults sitting nearby never saw him more relieved to have a ghost show up than in that moment. He gave quick goodbyes to the kids before shooting off to find the day's threat to the city.

All the adults gathered waved over their respective kids. While they trusted Phantom to get rid of the threat it was always smart to stay inside during a ghost attack. A loud boom sounded in the direction where Phantom flew off, shaking the ground. They all gave each other uncertain looks. “My house is closest we can take shelter there.” One of the men said leading everyone away.

After a block of running the group was almost to shelter when the ghost fight moved over their heads. The adults grabbed onto the children doing their best to shield them from the flying debris. They held the kids against their chests as they watched the sky in horror. They didn’t recognize the attacking ghost, but it was certainly doing a number on Phantom. The rest of the battle lasted at most a minute when Phantom managed to suck up the ghost into his thermos before he seemed to wobble in the sky and falling to the ground creating a small crater where he landed.

The man who was leading the group passed off the kid he was holding to the man next to him. “David what are you-?”

“Brian just hold her.” He ran over to the fallen teen and picked him up in a fireman's carry and rushed the rest of the way to his house.

Once he arrived he kicked open the door and placed the teen onto the couch in his living room. He looked down trying to assess the situation. Phantom’s jumpsuit was torn in numerous places exposing spots of his arms, neck, and chest that had splatterings of green ectoplasm across the exposed flesh. He started taking the rest of the jumpsuit off of the teen wanting to make sure there were no hidden injuries underneath. Behind him he could hear his husband and the other parents come through the door. “Get me a wet rag and some warm water!” He yelled behind him.

Once he was handed the items he started working on cleaning up the cuts and wiping off the ectoplasm. He silently thanked any higher being out there that he took a first aid class a few years back. The wounds actually seemed less severe than what David initially thought, that or the kid had some seriously advanced healing. One of the parents led the kids upstairs while the rest of them crowded around David and Phantom.

Once Phantom was as patched up as he could be David finally sat back and actually took a full look at the boy. His breath caught in his throat as he examined the body infront of him. In the end all he could get out was.“Oh my god. He’s- he’s dead.”

“What the hell do you mean? Of course he’s not, I can clearly see him breathing right now.” One of the parents protested.

David shook his head. “No.” He went to run his hands down his face before spotting the blood- no the ectoplasm covering them and settled for grabbing onto his husband for support. “No, I mean he’s a ghost.”

“Well yeah he’s a ghost it’s not like that’s news now is it?” Brian said running his hand up and down his husband's back.

“You guys don’t get it.” David pulled back. “Think! Look!” He ran his hand through his hair, staining it green. “Look at him.” He pointed at the teen’s unconscious body. There were lightning shaped scars running all over the boy’s body, from the base of his neck trailing all the way down to his ankles. Those weren’t the only scars marring his body though, small scars were scattered all over his body, there was a rather large one on his abdomen in the same spot where he was hit the other week fighting off a ghost who was attacking the high school. The gathered adults looked back at Phantom’s face. As he slept he almost looked like a normal teenager, there were small bags under his eyes, his closed eyes hid the toxic green color, and the glow surrounding him was almost nonexistent.

Three things seemed to dawn on the parents all at once.

1: Phantom at some point had died

2: He died young, at most he was just out of middle school when it happened.

3: From the looks of it he didn’t die in his sleep but painfully. They all silently hoped that at least it wasn’t drawn out.

As they all looked at each other they couldn’t help but think of their own children who were just upstairs. Did Phantom have a family? Did his parents miss their little boy? Do they know that Phantom was their son? Even worse, the boy had a jumpsuit on when he died, was his parents the cause of his premature death?

Of course if Phantom was conscious, didn’t have to worry about the whole identity thing, and could read their minds the boy would quickly put their minds to rest responding; yes, no he sees them daily, god no, and sorta it really was more of a case of teenage stupidity than his parents fault though.

Two of those issues though were quickly resolved as two white rings shocked the group out of their grief for a boy they hardly knew. The rings traveled across the boy’s body replacing bare skin with street clothes and white hair with black. Everyone looked at Phantom(?) confused, the boy in front of them was very unghost-like and the scratch on his face that was previously bleeding green now had a red where the scab was forming.

“What the fu- wait isn’t that the Fenton kid, Danny I think?” David asked looking back at the other parents who were in the same amount of shock that he was. Actually he was positive it was him, his older sister Jazz used to babysit their daughter and he would sometimes come along. If someone was going to respond they were cut off as the boy in front of them started to stir and open his eyes. He sat up almost falling off the couch in his panic, thankfully David was quick enough to catch him. “Woah there Danny, be careful you took a pretty bad beating out there. Hell I’m surprised you’re already awake to be honest kid.”

Danny gave him a thankful smile as he steadied himself. He froze once he caught a glimpse of his hair, his eyes shot down to his clothes. He looked back up and noticed the group of adults in front of him. “Now before you jump to any conclusions there’s a very reasonable explanation for this, or there will be just give me a few minutes.” “Wait so does this mean you’re not dead?” Brian asked.

“Brian you can’t just ask that! What if it’s a sensitive subject?” David scolded his husband then looked over at Danny. “Sorry about him.”

Danny looked over to the men who for some reason had hope in their eyes. “What? It’s fine. I mean I guess no- well yes- no- sorta- it’s complicated.”

As Danny looked at the numerous questioning eyes he sighed. It’s not like he could convince them that it was a trick of the light or something. And he did owe them since they patched him up better than he would have been able to at home in his bedroom. But before he could start he turned to David. “I’ll tell you guys everything but first um… is that my ectoplasm in your hair and on your hands? Because if so you probably should wash that off, prolonged exposure isn’t harmful per say but you could start to glow or something if you don’t wash it off soon.”

David looked down to his hands, apparently just now remembering he was still covered in the boy’s ectoplasm and rushed to the bathroom to wash it off. He’d worry about why the sight of his own blood- ectoplasm didn’t phase Danny at all later.

Once David returned, now free of ectoplasm, Danny sat down and started from the beginning. At one point in the story he must have started to cry because he was handed a tissue box, which he accepted with a thanks. By the end he wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes, one of the adults had to go into the kitchen to compose themselves. Danny didn’t really understand why though, sure he sort of half died, but he didn’t see why it would affect any of them. “Hey! It’s fine, I’m fine it’s not a big deal! I mean it’s not like it only happened to me. Vlad went through it too like 20 years ago.” Danny seized up after he said that. “Don’t tell him you know about him though! Me not telling anyone about him is the only reason he’s not trying to fully kill me when we fight. That and he has a weird obsession with my mom and me.”

David paused at that. “So you’re telling us that not only did you go through a highly traumatic situation at a young age, but the only adult that even knows about it has tried to kill you multiple times?”

“I mean I guess but Jazz, my sister, knows about it too and she’s older than me and my friends.”

“Danny she’s also still a kid, an older one sure, but she is not an adult. Even if you didn’t go to your parents, was there no one else you could have talked to about it with? A therapist maybe?” David asked.

Danny laughed. “Ah no, Jazz tried having me go to the school therapist but she turned out to be a ghost who wanted to try to cause as much pain as possible. She even almost killed Jazz in front of the whole school.”

“Dear god.” David sighed. “All right, we will all keep your secret on one condition.”  Danny cringed and looked down at his lap, of course there was a catch. He just hoped it wasn’t anything too bad like letting them run a bunch of experiments on him whenever they wanted to. His ghost injuries were bad enough to hide from others, he didn’t need to have to explain away needle marks or something. “You’ll see Brian once a week for therapy sessions. He’s a licensed psychiatrist.”

“Wait what?” Danny looked up confused.

“Oh don’t worry I won’t charge you of course since we are forcing you to do this, and obviously you can choose the day of the week. I usually don't work fridays or the weekends but if those are the only days that work I’m sure we can rearrange some of our family time to make room for you.” Brian smiled. “Now it’s getting pretty late isn’t it? I’m sure it’s about time everyone here starts to head home now hmm? Of course if you aren’t feeling well enough Danny I can call your parent’s up and just let them know you’ll be staying here. I’ll just tell them you were injured in a ghost fight, not exactly lying now is it?”

“Um no I’m fine enough to walk home thank you though.” Danny said. Everyone started saying their goodbyes and calling the children down to get them ready to leave. Danny was the last one left, he was almost out the door when he was stopped by David handing him a piece of paper.

“Here are our numbers, I also wrote down where Brian’s office is, you can set up your appointment over text. As well as our address, you can stop by or call us for any reason Danny and I mean it okay, any.”

Danny looked down at the paper and pocketed it with a nod. As he left he felt almost lighter for some reason. Maybe having adults who knew and didn’t want to kill him but actually wanted to help him wasn’t so bad after all.

[charmspoint]

what i know abt qifrey from u talking abt him uhh ok so he's genuinely just a nice guy but also he's evil and irredeemable but also he's literally just a pleasant gentleman

I know ur not asking for a rant about this but by god ur gonna get it.

So the thing is, I don't think Qifrey is evil or irredeemable at all. We joke around the fandom (at least i hope its mostly jokes) that he's evil and crazy but he's really not. If id have to pin Qifrey on a morality spectrum I'd say morally gray but leaning towards the good.

Did Qifrey do some messed up stuff? Yes, fo sure. But I've always gotten more of an impression that he's teetering towards the edge and not completely over it. He does do damage but so far he's mostly made sure that damage was extremely localized and not actually harming other people (I talked about before how Qifrey's own memory erasing spell seems weirdly specialized compared to what we were brought to believe memory erasing spell actually does when used by anyone else).

But now comes the question

Do I think Qifrey will get worse?

Yes, 100% I believe this is where we are going towards, I said before that I'm p convinced he will become some kind of obstacle for Coco down the line.

Qifrey is going through a LOT rn. He's already got ptsd from, you know being stripped of his identity, buried alive, almost drowned and then remembering he was experimented on like a lab rat, but now it's getting worse. Before he could at least relay on the fact that even though his past was horrible, his future was bright. He genuinely loves his job, he loves his girls, he loves teaching. This monolog gets me every single time

Now he's losing his future, he's losing not only his eye, but the whole identity he built out of nothing, he's losing his teaching position, he's losing his kids, he's losing Everything he gained after he had already lost Everything.

It leaves him rushing against an uncertain time limit, desperate, stumbling, sloppy. I don't think he's thinking straight anymore, not really. I think he's convinced he is being methodical and calculating but in actuality he's stumbling forward, grasping at straws, unable to hold on to anything but his need for revenge and the empty words that his actions aren't only for his own sake.

It's all very striking, in his relationship with Olruggio in particular. Olruggio is very clearly supposed to be the guiding light for Qifrey, the one who pulls him back when he goes too far, the one who helps him resist the growing darkness. It's very meaningful how as Qifrey continues on his path he makes sure Olruggio doesn't even know about it. He said it himself, if Olruggio knew, he'd try to save him. He'd try to bring Olruggio to light again and Qifrey doesn't WANT to be saved, he has decided on a road he wants to take and he won't allow anyone to change his course. Not even Olruggio.

So do I think Qifrey is evil?

No

Do I think he'll get worse?

Yes

Do I think he'll become evil?

Not really

See here's the thing. Qifrey's desperation, how quickly he's trying to work through this, how determined he is to throw everything else under the bus if he could just achieve his goals? All of that is dictated by the fact he's running out of time, the fact that once he loses his eyesight he can no longer be a witch. Eyesight is VERY important to witches since magic is a very visual art. We've seen with Tartar how something as seemingly miniscule as color blindness can basically doom someone, causing everyone around them to say they can't become a witch without good eyesight. So complete blindness is a death sentence to a witches career. Now, it's funny how a lot of the Coustas and Tartars arc has to do with adjusting the world to disability and not the person to the world. How it's made pointed, over and over again, that people with disabilities shouldn't be written off but given proper tools that will help them function, how the world should adjust to be a more comfortable place for all kinds of people and not just those who are already adjusted to it. Without the threat of his eyesight going out and cutting his whole identity into bits, Qifrey wouldn't have to act like this, he would be able to sit and think and not rush and if he still wants to pursue brimhats he could do it more safely for himself and everyone else because the desperation factor would be gone.

So what I think is going to happen is that Qifrey will lose his eyesight but won't lose his standing as a witch because he, Olruggio and the kids will figure out how to make magic accessible to him.

Now there's of course a bunch more unaccounted for variables which I'll probably have a better grasp on after the current arc is done being translated. Ininia and Lord Restis represent a very interesting development because they are brimhats introduced specifically via healing injuries. The rule of 'medicine magic isn't allowed cuz it's a slippery slope' has been there since the beginning of the series and a big thorn in the 'yeah the witch world rules are good and fair' side cuz of course, everyone thinks healing people should be allowed. Now the brimhats we've had so far were fully ready to attack and experiment on children's bodies in order to further their own goals so of course that immediately leaves you disliking them and not putting much account into their rhetoric even though it does make sense at times, but ur not gonna listen to ppl experimenting on kids. That's why I think Ininia and Lord Restis are interesting, cuz if they aren't literally attacking children they might get a good case in about medicine magic being allowed. I think we are going towards at least some sort of medicine magic becoming acceptable considering Tartar's arc. But then the question is, if some sort of medicine magic is approved, will it be used to heal disabilities cuz like...that would kinda suck. I would much rather have a 'world should be adjusted so disabled people can participate in it equally' narrative rather than the 'just heal the disability with magic lol' narrative. But honestly this whole paragraph is pure speculation because the arc isn't fully translated or even fully out yet but I sure af am LOOKING at it. I think it will be v important in understanding where the story is going to go. I just hope Shirahama does a good job with it, but honestly she never once let me down up until now so I'm feelin positive.

Circling back to Qifrey, I do think he's one of the kindest, most understanding, most lovable characters I've had a joy of reading and studying. But he does have a black hole in him that is pulling apart all that kindness, leaving him a shattering shell. I don't think he's evil, I don't think he'll ever become truly evil and despite what he's done I don't think any of what he did is irredeemable, especially with how careful he tends to be not to take away from people more than he has to to further his own goals. But I do think that hole will eat at him more and more and that before he can get better somebody will have to notice it and help him plug it up. Olruggio noticed and Qifrey refused the help, convinced that he can't be helped, not in the way he needs. He will need proof that he can keep his future before he can ease up on the frantic hunt after his past

[whumpingcrow]

Pt. 12 "It's Already October?"

CW: PTSD themes, nightmares, insomnia, dishonesty about mental state, past noncon/dubcon mention, past abuse mention, emotional abuse, panic attack, tics/tourrettes, food mention, slapping mention, injury mention, blood, self harm (explicit), razor mention, bondage mention, drugs/alcohol (explicit), August is sort of in this one, oblivious caretaker, party setting, halloween setting (Let me know if I missed anything!)

(Note, as a general warning these two upcoming chapters are going to be pretty graphic with descriptions/intensity of the situation, and I really want to reinforce that I prefer if these stories are viewed by 18+ readers, and is read with discretion <3 -Crow)

The last time that Elias had talked to Allen, he had promised that things were going to start getting easier, that the pain and the fear would ebb and it would all begin to feel ok very soon. Elias was beginning to think that he had a different idea of 'soon' than Allen did, because he wasn't feeling like it was getting any better. If anything, it seemed like it was only going to keep getting worse. His nightmares were so violent and often that he didn't even put in effort to sleep anymore, he simply stayed up after the first time he was jolted out of his sleep. After that he would always sneak out of the room around Tyson and busy himself with something until he woke up as well. He was constantly tired, sure, but it was ridiculously hard to convince himself to close his eyes and force himself back into a nightmare once he was already awake. It made him feel incredibly ashamed, but he was getting rather good at hiding how much all of it was really wearing down on him from Tyson, how he wasn't allowing his injuries to heal, how he was always terrified and exhausted. Except that this didn't exactly go in his favor, because he was acting so good that Tyson decided he could go back to work.

"I'm not working the full shift, so I'll be back before you even know it. You'll probably sleep the whole time, won't even know I'm gone." He smiled at Elias, who was sitting at the edge of the bed watching him get ready. "If you need anything, you can call Leo or Allen, or me if you don't wanna call them."

Elias nodded, only out of obedience, he didn't want to bother anyone by calling them in the middle of the night. He could deal with it himself, just like he always did. "You look nice in your scrubs," he said, to deflect the attention off of himself, "like one of those hot doctors from that show."

Tyson laughed and flopped onto the mattress next to him. "Yeah? This pale blue really brings out my eyes, huh?" He melted as Elias laughed, the sound of it was light and, if he dared to think, happy. Maybe he was gonna be just fine, he seemed like he was doing alright so far. He was hopeful, and the fact that he was about to leave Elias alone all night and he was alright enough to be laughing had to be a good sign, right? It was ironic, but it seemed like Elias was less nervous about the whole situation than Tyson was. With a small sigh, he reached over and smoothed out a wrinkle on the sheets and mumbled, "I'm gonna miss you."

At that, Elias turned his gaze away from him, trying not to let his upset that he was leaving show. "You'll be too busy to miss me." He insisted, forcing as much humor into the sentence as possible.

"I highly doubt that." Tyson pulled him against his chest, kissing his cheek gently. When he thought about having to stand up to leave, dread filled his chest and weighed him down enough to stay put. He tried not to think about how someone might break in, how they might take Elias away from him again, how he would be powerless, so far away. August was in jail now, he reminded himself, Elias would be ok.

"You're gonna be late, Doctor." Elias teased him, pushing him away playfully. He smiled when Tyson sighed heavily and stood up, looking him up and down.

"Ok... I'll see you in the morning. Promise you'll call someone if anything happens?" He waited for Elias to nod, then grabbed his bag and turned to the door.

He only made it a few steps before he heard Elias stand up, his voice small and scared as he breathed, "Tyson, wait."

"Hm?" He looked over Elias, who had his arms wrapped around himself and looked like he might fall over any second. He was silent for a long time, squeezing his hands tightly around the materiel of his shirt, looking like he was too nervous to say what was on his mind.

"I love you," he finally muttered, "that's all. Have a good night."

Tyson grinned at him and crossed the room again to kiss him. "I love you too. Get some rest."

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

Whatever movie was playing on the TV was boring, Elias couldn't seem to focus on it. He had been sitting on the couch the majority of the night, smoking weed every time he felt uneasy. He got up a few times to double-check that the door was locked, just to make himself feel a little better. It was painfully lonely without Tyson, without the simple knowledge that there was someone else in the house with him. He debated calling him, just to hear his voice, but he didn't want to take him away from his work. Then he wondered if maybe he should call Allen, that he might have some advice about being alone. Really he felt like he just needed someone to talk to, someone to tell him that he was doing alright.

"Everything you're doing is wrong," August was sighing, shaking his head disdainfully. The disappointed glare in his deep blue eyes could've killed Elias, made his chest ache so painfully every other injury he'd ever gotten from August paled in comparison. August was a monster, a sadistic devil of a man who's main goal seemed to be causing everyone else around him misery. So then, Elias found himself wondering time and time again, why was displeasing him so upsetting? Why did Elias feel like he was crumbling to pieces without his approval? "Tyson's too soft on you. But you know that, of course, don't you sweetheart?"

"I'm trying to do what you taught me it's just...he doesn't care. I don't know what to do."

"Yes you do. You've got to be punished, my love." Just like always, his voice was disgustingly honeyed, even as August grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the ground. Elias didn't even see him grab them, but there were the ropes again, tight around his wrists as always, and Elias couldn't move, and he could see the glint of the razor inching closer to his skin.

"August please God, no! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please I'll do better!" He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, August was going to slice into him again and he couldn't handle anymore pain.

"You know you need it, Elias. Remember, it's to help you be better. Don't you want to be better?" His voice was sweet, almost caring, even with the corner of the razor digging into his skin.

Elias didn't remember falling asleep, but all at once he was bolting off of the couch and gasping in frenzied breaths, looking around the dimly lit room for any sign of danger. He was alone still, there was no one with him. As soon as he realized it was only a nightmare, he blindly reached forward until his hand brushed the glass pipe on the table. He didn't waste any time pulling it toward him so that he could get high again. Even though the smoke made him cough, he felt like he could breathe a little better the foggier his head got. He checked his phone, disappointed when he saw Tyson hadn't checked up on him yet and that it would still be hours until he got back. Without meaning to, he thought back to the nightmare, what August was saying. His subconscious August, at least.

Would he feel better if someone hurt him? Would it make him stop lying and hiding what he was feeling if he just got into trouble for it once? He knew Tyson wouldn't ever lay a hand on him, and August was long gone. But the more he lingered on the idea, the more he realized how much he needed the pain. His anxiety only began to worsen again as he dwelled on it, so he stood up and tried to busy himself by cleaning up. It helped for a bit, he was mostly distracted enough that he didn't think of the nightmare or the idea of being punished, until he got to the bathroom.

He was paralyzed the second he saw the large straight razor sitting menacingly on the shelf of the medicine cabinet, similar to the one August had used on him. He could feel the sharpness of it without even touching it, he was familiar with the sting and the burn that came when it was dragged heavily against his skin, he remembered the dull soreness of the injuries when they started healing. What he didn't know was how it would feel to hold it, though, he had never been allowed to touch it in that way. He wondered how heavy it would be, if it would be cold or not. His hand was trembling as he reached out and picked it up, his breath bated as he looked it over. It was so god damn sharp. If someone were to hold it to his skin and just ruin him, he imagined it would probably be like pushing a reset button, like he would be brand new when it was all over. At the thought, he set it down and pulled his sweatshirt off, not even bothering to look at himself in the mirror, grabbing the razor again once his shirt was on the floor. There was nothing he wanted more than to cry at the dangerous thoughts running through his head, but at the same time this felt like the only option. He placed the razor over the healing cuts on his forearms, taking a few ragged breaths to gain some courage.

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

Tyson felt bad when Elias flinched awake as he crawled into bed with him, he seemed to be sleeping so peacefully. He looked lost and scared as he sat up, squinting through the dark at Tyson.

"Just me, love. I was gonna come sleep with you for a bit, is that ok?" He asked him, finding his hand on the blanket and brushing his fingertips over it.

Elias's shoulders dropped back to relaxed and he moved closer to Tyson, allowing him to pull him against his chest as they laid back down. "How was work?" He whispered.

"It was alright. How was your night?" He rubbed up and down his back, trying not to be bothered as he felt his spine underneath his hand.

Elias was silent for a while, then he cleared his throat. "I missed you a lot. It was lonely here."

"Yeah, I bet. Did you sleep well? I mean, before I woke you up."

"Uh...yeah, sort of. I stayed up late though. Watched a movie." He snuggled closer to Tyson, against his bare chest, sighing at the warmth.

They talked for a little longer, until Tyson was too tired to stay awake, and then Elias just stayed close to him and listened to him breathing for a long time. He couldn't fall asleep again, mostly because he didn't want to wake Tyson up if he had a nightmare, but also because he couldn't get comfortable with all of the new cuts on his arms.

There was a lot more blood than Elias was expecting, and he was too shocked to move for a second as he watched the red ribbons stream down his skin, and then a sort of sick calm washed over him. He didn't remember it feeling this relieving when August did it, but, God, did it feel like a breath of fresh air. So he just kept going, and soon he was covered in blood, like he was used to, and he turned off the light and sat at the bottom of the shower for awhile until the bleeding stopped.

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

After the sun started to shine through the curtains, Elias slipped out of Tyson's arms carefully and made his way to the kitchen, busying himself by making breakfast. He made himself some coffee while he waited for the french toast to cook, then he began to cut up some fruit. It felt odd to hold the knife after hurting himself the night before, and he found himself shaking slightly. He was doing everything he could to stay busy, he felt like if he stopped moving he would sit down and fall asleep, and he couldn't handle another nightmare. He didn't want to see August anymore, he wanted it to really be over, and when he was dreaming about him it was like actually being around him again.

"That smells amazing." Tyson remarked as he came into the kitchen. Elias jumped hard, nearly dropping the knife that he was holding.

"Jesus," he huffed, trying to breathe so his heart would stop racing, "I didn't know you were awake."

Tyson sighed as he leaned against the counter, looking around at all the food. "I just woke up."

Tyson looked so good, his dark, curly hair was messy, his face was still tired and he was shirtless and his voice was gruff from sleep. Elias set the knife down as carefully as he could and walked over to him, wrapping his arms around his torso and hugging him close. "Well, good morning, then."

"Good morning. How long have you been awake?"

"Oh, uh...I um..."

"Did you go back to sleep after I got home?" He pulled away from Elias and inspected his face. He had dark circles under his eyes, but he couldn't really tell if it was from lack of sleep or the healing bruises. Tyson knew he was getting thinner from holding him, but now that he was looking at him harder, he could see it in his face, too. He frowned as Elias shook his head, then placed his hand over his cheek.

"I'm sorry," Elias choked out, fearful over the disdainful look on Tyson's face, "I tried to, I just couldn't...I just didn't wanna have another nightmare-"

"Hey, it's ok, love. You've got nothing to be sorry about."

Even though his voice was nothing but sweet and loving, Elias turned away from him with a frustrated sigh. "For fucks sake, Tyson!" He groaned, grabbing the counter to steady himself. "I'm fucking up so bad why cant you just, like, fucking yell at me or something!?"

Tyson was shocked at the outburst, gawking at him for a moment, left speechless. He was angry at him for not being angry? Allen had been similar when he first got back, tried everything he could think of to get the people around him to see that he was bad, that he was deserving of pain, but that stopped for the most part once he realized that the people around him were safe and wouldn't hurt him even if he wanted them to. He could see Elias shaking where he stood and he felt helpless in that moment, like there was no way he could comfort him.

"Elias," he said softly, stepping carefully toward him, "you have been through more pain and fear than anyone should have to deal with in their entire lifetime. I can't imagine how hard it is for you to adjust after that, and I'm not going to punish you because you're having a hard time."

Suddenly, Elias burst into tears, caving in on himself as his shoulders shook in sobs. "You don't understand! I'm so...I need...I need you to fucking...! God fuck Tyson!"

"Baby calm down." Tyson moved to grab his shoulders in some attempt to soothe him, but Elias turned and shoved his arms away, stumbling back from him. "Elias, please-"

"Shut the fuck up! Shut up Tyson, stop being so fucking nice to me!" He covered his face as he cried, sinking down to the floor with a thud. Tyson sat down across from him, hands to himself, and watched as he began to rock back and forth a little.

"I love you Eli-"

"Stop it! Please stop it!"

"-I love you so much and you're not doing anything wrong."

Elias only got more hysteric at that, his breathing so quick and labored that Tyson was worried he might pass out. When Elias began to tic and hit his injured hand against the ground, Tyson grabbed his wrist to hold him still. Elias fought harder, screaming to be let go, for Tyson to "stop fucking touching him!" and thrashing in his grip. He wasn't going to calm down, not like this, not on his own, and he was hurting himself, so Tyson had no other choice. In one quick movement, he slapped Elias across the face.

He felt bad instantly, of course, but Elias grew still, apart from his body trembling and his shoulders rising and falling with his labored breathing. He looked up at Tyson, fear etched into every detail of his face. After a few seconds of silence, he dropped his head down and took a deep breath.

"Th-thank you," he breathed, his voice just as shaky as his body, "thank you, Tyson."

Tyson shook his head, fighting the tears in his eyes as he stood up. "Come here."

Elias slowly pushed himself to his feet, sniffling a few times and trying to steady his breathing. He stiffened when Tyson grabbed his shoulders, only bowing his head further in submission. He fought the familiar dread he usually had when August was only just beginning a punishment, when he knew he was going to be weak and broken and near death in a moment. Logically, he knew Tyson wouldn't hurt him as bad as August would, but after being hit, his brain went right back to that same fearful, trained head-space.

"Look at me, baby," Tyson whispered. When Elias shook his head and grew even more tense, Tyson took a step toward him. "Eli, angel," he cooed, tilting his face up until he grudgingly made eye contact. "Are you ok?"

Elias nodded eagerly, eyes still wide and terrified. "M'ok." He insisted. Tyson knew it was just because he thought it was what he wanted to hear, he could still see the fear and the pain written on his face.

"I'm so sorry I hit you. I won't do it again." He wiped the tears from his face as he spoke. His cheek was red from where he hit him, and Tyson's heart sank further. "I love you so much, Elias, I never want to hurt you. Ever."

Elias forced a small smile, nodding his head. "It's ok. I love you." He flinched a fraction as Tyson stooped down to hug him, then melted into his arms. He closed his eyes and took a few more deep breaths. He counted to ten, then pulled away and cleared his throat. "Your breakfast is gonna get cold."

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

Tyson couldn't be sure if it was just because he had been hit earlier and now wanted more than ever to please him or if he genuinely wanted to, but he was surprised when Elias insisted they go to Leo and Allen's for the Halloween party they'd been invited to. When Tyson brought it up, it was mostly just to let Elias know that they were thinking of him, that he had friends who wanted to see him, he wasn't expecting him to want to go. Initially, Elias was just shocked that it was already Halloween, had he been with August for that long...? Had it already been almost two weeks since he'd last seen him? He tried not to act too bothered about how much it shook him up, realizing he'd completely lost his sense of time lately. But once Elias said that he would love to go, Tyson gladly agreed, promised Elias that if it got uncomfortable or overwhelming they would leave. Elias was amused with Tyson's makeshift costume, his tight red shirt and cheap devil horn head band. He looked ridiculously attractive, and here Elias was in his oversized hoodie he'd been wearing for days and an added jacket, his hair and face were both an absolute mess. He felt ugly, not that he didn't always feel like that lately, but as long as Tyson was distracting him he wasn't really thinking about it.

The party had a lot more people than either of them were expecting, the house was buzzing with conversation and music and loud laughter, and Elias was instantly intimidated. He reached for Tyson's hand and stood close to him, looking down at his shoes as he was guided through the crowd.

"Hey! I didn't think you guys would come!" Someone was saying. Elias looked up for a split second to see it was Leo, who was grinning ear to ear. Elias was envious of his carefree happiness, and he wanted to sob when Tyson let go of his hand to hug Leo. "How are you, Elias?"

He flinched at the sound of his own name, snapping his eyes up to Leo. He hated being addressed like that, like a person, because every time he could hear August pounding it into his brain that he was less than human, that he wasn't important enough to be spoken to, that he was only alive because August allowed it, because August wanted to use him, because he was a punching bag, because he was a sex toy, because-

"I'm fine," he choked out, forcing a tight smile. "Do you have any booze?"

Leo frowned at him in confusion, then looked to Tyson for some sort of explanation. When he only responded with a simple shrug, Leo turned his attention back to Elias. "Uh...yeah. Yeah, it's in the kitchen."

Elias thanked him and turned away from them both, weaving through people until he found himself in the kitchen. Only a few people were in there with him, one of them being Allen, who looked just as uncomfortable as Elias. He was wearing a tee shirt and bow tie, which was the most low effort costume Elias had ever seen. He would have laughed, if he wasn't so hell bent on getting himself drunk so he could handle being here.

"Hey," Allen said, smiling a little, "I didn't know y-you were here."

"Yeah, just got here. Ty's with Leo." As he spoke, he poured himself a shot of tequila, holding his breath so he wouldn't tic and spill it. He threw it back, gagging on the taste, on the memories of August forcing him to take shot after shot of the burning drink because he was more fun when he was drunk, he was told. "What are you supposed to be?" He asked. Allen's eyes were on him as he filled up the shot glass again, then grimaced as he set it down and reached for something to chase it with.

"Oh, I dunno. I've n-never really done this whole Halloween party thing." He shifted his weight, chewing his lip. "What about you?"

Elias didn't answer him, shaking his head. "Can we please go somewhere quiet? This sucks."

Allen laughed, "yeah, it does, huh? Wanna go sm-smoke?" After Elias agreed, Allen took his hand and led him out to the backyard. There were a few other people, but they were dispersed enough that they found a place far away from everyone quickly.

"Tyson hit me today," Elias said suddenly, looking at the ground as he smoked, "I can't even remember why. I just...I just remember I was on the floor and he hit me."

Allen was shocked into silence for a moment, then he took a deep breath and leaned against the wall they were standing at. "Was he mad at you?"

Elias felt on the verge of tears then, couldn't speak over the lump in his throat. "He didn't seem mad, he said he was sorry after. I think he just...I think he just felt like hitting me."

Allen shook his head. "No, Tyson isn't like August. He wouldn't just hit you because he wanted to." When he looked up at Elias, he was surprised to see his cheeks wet with tears and a tight frown on his face. "Hey, it's ok, Elias. It's ok."

"No, it isn't. I'm so fucking exhausted." He dropped his head into his hands and fought the sobs shaking his shoulders. "I can't sleep and I can't eat and I feel like I'm fucking up every little thing-" he froze up when he felt Allen's arms around him, holding him tight. For a second he was stunned into silence, then he really began to cry.

"You're gonna be alright," he was saying, "right now, you're in the hardest part of it, but it's gonna get better." He pulled Elias closer as his weak, broken whimpers shook his small frame. He didn't remember ever being in this much despair, sure, he was confused and scared and hurting, but for the most part he was just relieved that he was safe. How long had Elias been back, a week and a half? When Allen had been back for that long, he was focusing on trying to get his life back together, trying to mend relationships and himself and feel as normal as he could. Elias seemed to be breaking apart over and over again. August must've been so cruel to him.

When Elias slowly stopped crying, he pulled himself out of Allen's grip and took a deep breath. "I um...I'm gonna go get another drink. Thanks for uh, talking to me."

"Yeah, of course. Let me know if you need anything." Allen watched as he stood up and limped back into the house.

[andiinaraethtash]

Chapter Nineteen is Up!

Here's the link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35710339/chapters/92726341

And here's the chapter:

Is That Me or the Fear Talking? (I Don’t Know Anymore)

Notes: TW: Panic attack/flashback, unintentional self-harm. If these things bother you, please, please skip the second section (enclosed by a line on either side). I want you all to be safe and happy. Which might be asking a lot in this day and age, but you know, one can hope. Chapter title is from Mansion by NF, and really covers both fWhip's and Gem's perspectives of what's happening in this chapter. (See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

After nearly two months of healing, fWhip manages to convince Bramble and Clementine that he’ll heal better at home, and at this point, since most of his injuries are healed—his wings, no matter how many potions they gave him, aren't growing back—they acquiesce. So it’s with a spring in his unsteady step that he finds Gem to tell her.

“You want to go back to the Grimlands,” she says flatly, and he nods.

“Come on, Gem, I’m going crazy here. As much as I love Katherine, I want to go home. It’s been six months, I want to see my people, see my home, start tinkering again. Do you have any idea—actually, let me put this in perspective for you. Remember when we were little, and you’d discovered how to cast a spell, but Mother told you not to, and you didn’t, for like, a month, and then you slowly started feeling like you were going crazy? It’s like that, but worse.”

Gem hesitates, and he knows he’s got her. After a moment, she sighs and throws her hands up in the air in defeat. “Okay, okay. I get it. But I’m staying with you for a little while, I don’t want you re-injuring yourself.”

He grins. “Great! I’ll go tell Katherine.”

“Wait, we’re leaving now?”

Leveling a ‘c’mon, really?’ look in her direction, he says, “You really think I’m going to wait?” before turning and hurrying out of the room.

Katherine gives him a warm hug goodbye, and makes him promise to write, and tells him to stop by Shrub’s after he’s settled back in to let her know he’s back, something he’s only too happy to agree to.

Then they’re off, Gem having brought a horse from the Grimlands for him, and riding one of her own horses so she could stay next to him. They ride most of the day, making it to Eastvale as the sun sets.

He has to pull a hood up over his head, but they manage to get through the village without being recognized. Once they arrive at the manor, though, fWhip lets his hood down and smiles at the guards, who stare at him for a moment before hurrying forward and taking his horse. One of them, the captain, approaches him as he dismounts.

“It’s good to see you, your Grace. You were… dearly missed.”

He claps the captain on the shoulder. “Good to be back.”

Gem escorts him inside. “Your room should be almost exactly like you left it—maybe a bit dustier. The maids haven’t had as much cause to keep it clean.”

He nods, but as soon as he reaches the door, he knows something is off. The door creaks open, and he steps in, letting out a slow breath as he takes the room in. On the surface, it hasn’t changed. But for some reason, it feels like stepping into a mausoleum.

He glances back at Gem, who’s similarly frozen in the doorway, looking like she’s seen a ghost, and raises an eyebrow. “You okay?”

It takes a second, but she flashes him a hesitant smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… didn’t think I’d see you here again.”

“Wow, so little faith in me. I feel the love.”

She rolls her eyes, and turns to leave. “I’m going to go to my room to sleep for a bit. Wake me up for dinner.”

“Sure thing.”

_______

Dinner that night is delicious, and full of stilted conversation. It’s like no one knows how to act around him. The one maid who’s serving them fumbles with everything, and he catches her staring a couple times like she thinks he’s going to disappear, to say nothing of how Gem’s acting. She won’t take her eyes off him longer than it takes for her to get food on her utensil.

Not that he doesn’t get it. He’s on the edge of his seat with nerves, because every shadow could contain the demon, and he’s constantly having to remind himself, that yes, this is real, he’s not hallucinating, or trapped in a dream, or being toyed with by the demon. With every scrape of the plates, he’s jumping and looking around for the next attack.

Gem notices, but every time she opens her mouth, some inane question comes out instead, like, what do you want to do later? Are there any projects you’re looking forward to working on? Do you want to show me around your workshop?

He stops eating and stares at her at that last one. Gem has always encouraged his tinkering, yes, but she’s never shown any interest in it. So she’s obviously up to something.

Not that he minds, really. He wants someone to watch his back for a little bit, just until he knows for certain his kingdom is secure and the demon can’t get to him here.

So he nods and says sure, and of course that’s when it all goes to hell.

The serving girl drops something, he doesn’t see what, but the resulting clang is loud and metallic and reverberates through his bones, and suddenly he’s on the floor, scrambling for the nearest safe spot, the nearest wall to press his back against, and he’s holding something cold and sharp in his hand, and he’s alone, and he’s trapped, and Gem’s right in his face, and he’s not safe, and—and—

“fWhip. fWhip, please, listen to me, you need to put the knife down, you’re hurting yourself—”

He ignores the sound, squeezes his eyes shut, and presses his hands to his ears, screaming to drown out the noise. On the one hand, he knows he’s not supposed to scream, he’s supposed to stay as quiet as possible, he’s not supposed to break, but it’s the only way he can drown out the awful noise.

It can’t hurt me if it isn’t there, he thinks distantly, but his thoughts are slipping like sand through his fingers, and all he knows is that there are hands on him, and people nearby, and he has to get away.

So he lashes out, and the hands vanish, and he scrambles farther away, only to find himself trapped again, this time by a second wall coming up on his left and cutting off his escape. He screams again, this time bashing his fists against the wall, trying to break it down so he can get out, but a pair of arms grab him around the waist and heave him away, pinning him on his stomach and wrenching the thing—the weapon—out of his hand.

He thrashes, trying to get away, trying to stop the inevitable pain, but he can’t, he can’t, he’s trapped, and pinned, and the only thing he can do is pound his head against the floor. It helps, sort of, clears the fog in his head just enough that he can take a moment to check in with his body, but before he can understand any of what it’s telling him, the panic is back and he slams his head into the ground again to try to get that moment of relief back.

Hands scramble to stop him, to cushion the place that’s making contact with the floor, but he shakes them off and bangs it again. More voices, more hands, then finally a splash of cool liquid against his back.

Almost immediately grey clouds his vision, and he struggles to stay conscious, but it’s no good. The grey is there and it stays until it’s overtaken by black, and he’s dead to the world.

_______

Gem’s by his bedside when he comes to, reading a book, and he has to take a moment to remember what happened. When he does, he squeezes his eyes shut and groans. “I flipped out, didn’t I.”

“You got startled,” Gem says defensively, putting the book aside. “Besides, that makes it sound like you made the choice. It was an accident, on all sides. But you’re going to have to be careful for a little bit, you concussed yourself and cut your hand on the knife.”

He glances down at his hand, which is indeed bandaged and throbbing. He sighs. “And I was doing so well.”

“You were doing an admirable job pretending you’re fine, but you’re not, and really, no one expects you to be.”

fWhip knows that, intellectually, at least, but that doesn’t make it any easier. “I don’t want to be helpless, though, especially not when Xornoth comes back.”

She frowns. “Did we never tell you? I guess not, but I could have sworn we did. fWhip, Xornoth is gone.”

The world spins around him, and for a moment he can’t breathe. The words just aren’t processing. “What?” He whispers, because something in the back of his mind is railing at the announcement.

“He’s gone,” Gem says again, and it still doesn’t make sense. “We trapped him in a crystal. Scott has it now, and we think that might’ve been why you freaked out that second time, remember, when Joel visited? Scott had it on him, and you went crazy when he got close.”

“I really appreciate being called crazy,” he retorts without really thinking about it (snarking his sister is second nature at this point, he can’t not do it).

But internally he’s reeling. Xornoth’s gone. He’s gone, and they all had known, and none of them had told him. He is safe, and he was lied to, and he is confused and relieved and angry all at the same time.

Objectively he’s not sure why he’s angry, there’s just a primal part of him that is decidedly not happy with anything, but he ignores that fact and just sits, stewing in his thoughts for a moment.

Gem is staring at him, though, and he realizes his time to stew is up. He forces a grin. “Well, I can't say I’m sorry to see him go. Wish you’d left some for me, though.”

That must be the right answer, because Gem sighs and shakes her head, a hint of a smile on her face. “Never change, fWhip, never change.”

“I’ll do my best.”

_______

“Joey wants to know if he can visit,” Gem says.

It’s been a few days since they arrived back in the Grimlands, a few days full of Gem hovering, people staring, and whispers behind his backs that vanish as soon as he tries to overhear. He knows something happened while he was away, but not what, and it’s driving him crazy because no one is answering his questions.

Still, fWhip sighs as he sets down the screwdriver he’d been using. Does he really want to see Joey, after everything he did to him? Not really, he knows, but Gem wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t safe.

Which begs a new question.

“What happened with him when Xornoth was defeated?” he asks, and glances over in time to see Gem purse her lips.

“It was just before we managed to trap Xornoth—like, minutes, if not seconds, before. It was that crown he was wearing—Pix and Pearl got it off somehow, they might have had to kill him, I don’t know. But when he came back, he wasn’t… he wasn’t bad. He still loved Xornoth, but he understood why he was bad news. He’s uncorrupted, now.”

fWhip hums as he processes that. Then another thought crosses his mind, and he frowns. “What about Sausage? What happened to him? Did he go back to normal when you guys dealt with Xornoth?”

Gem hesitates.

“Gem.”

After a moment, she sighs. “He… I killed him right after he killed you. We thought he was dead—obviously we all had mixed feelings about that—but he did come back, and when he did, he was… normal. Uncorrupted.”

fWhip isn’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, Sausage had been the one to trap him with the demon. On the other hand, it’s Sausage they’re talking about, fWhip’s best friend, who’d been led astray and all but possessed.

Finally, he decides that what he’s feeling is relief. Above all else, he loves Sausage like a brother, and if he’s back, that’s probably the best news he’s gotten since being told the demon is gone for good.

“So why’s he not stopped by?” fWhip wonders aloud, and Gem gapes at him.

“fWhip, he—he killed you! Last time most of us saw him, we told him never to come back! I’m pretty sure he thinks that’s still the case, which it is.” Gem’s voice shakes, but her tone is firm, and he turns to stare at her in disbelief.

“Gem, we kill each other all the time. If anything, I’d have thought you’d want him closer to make sure he’s, you know, okay and not corrupted.”

Gem’s staring right back at him. “But this wasn’t a friendly spar, or an accident, or even a prank, this was cold-blooded murder.”

He’s confused. Really, really confused, and he doesn’t like being really, really confused. Figuring things out is his thing, understanding is a necessity, and he doesn’t know why everyone is so upset with Sausage.

He turns around fully, sitting backwards in his seat. “Okay, look, if anyone has a right to be upset with Sausage, it’s me. I’m the one he sent to the depths of the Nether and into the demon’s hands. And I’m not. I was, sure, I was a little mad, and I’m concerned that we haven’t heard from him, but I’m not upset. Not anymore.”

Gem pinches the bridge of her nose. “fWhip, we thought he’d killed you, don’t you understand that?”

“He did kill me. He’s killed me a lot. If I’m not upset anymore, then you don’t have the right to be anymore either,” fWhip says, summoning every once of stubbornness in his body.

Gem looks like she’s hurting inside, tears gathering in her eyes and everything. “You’re not the only one your death affected, you know.”

fWhip crosses his arms. “All I’m getting from this is that you want to be mad at someone, and you don’t want to blame me or you, for obvious reasons, so you’re blaming Sausage.”

Gem inhales sharply, and he realizes that maybe he’s gone a step too far, but he can’t stand down now. He’s fully prepared to counter any argument she comes up with, but she’s apparently done with this conversation, because she turns and leaves the forge, blasting off toward the manor as she goes.

Notes: You guys notice something? fWhip has no clue that he was dead. They never explained that to him. So as far as he knows, the others were searching for him the entire time he was gone, and only found him when they finally confronted Xornoth. So Gem will get to break that news to him sometime in the near future. Speaking of the near future, guess who's making their grand return in the next chapter? That's right, it's ya boy Sausage. Stay tuned for that angsty reunion

[drabbles-of-writing]

Necessary Needles

This is part of my Four Years AU

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The Boiling Isles, like any other place, had its own diseases. Some were unavoidable, like the bright maggots that lived at the Toes who gave you bright disease. Having your organs glow and shrivel up was not fun.

However, like any other place, they had ways to combat most diseases. Schools like Hexside required it. You can’t expect to deal with abominations, beasts, healing, multiple species of plants, and the occasional wayward potion and expect to come out completely clean.

So the worry of Luz having no papers or medical exams to speak of was bound to come up.

 ,

“We need to take her to a healer, Edalyn.” Lilith hissed, crossing her arms. “She’s human, she’s incredibly exposed to everything here.”

“Coming down with a little flu isn’t that big a deal,” Eda muttered, turning her head away and crossing her arms. “She’ll be fine in a few days.”

“She might, but what if it was worse?” Lilith persisted. “Hexside is looking for papers saying that she’s been vaccinated. They could kick her out!”

“Bump is a flexible guy,” Eda snapped. “Look,” She sighed, shoulders slumping. “It’s not that I disagree. Luz could get sick pretty easily. But like you said, she’s human. We don’t know how those vaccines are going to react to her.”

Lilith thought for a moment, pacing the living room. Luz had been sent to bed hours earlier after it’d been revealed she’d woken up with the Centipoodle Flu. Not typically deadly, unless you were very unlucky. But worrying all the same.

“Human biology isn’t all that different from witches, is it?” Lilith asked. “The shots are designed to fit a very broad section of witches, even half-demons can take those.”

“Well, she doesn’t have a bile sac, that’s a big difference.” Eda pointed out. “And…” She frowned.

“Actually, I think that’s the only issue.” She blinked. “I don’t think lack of fangs, rounded ears, and getting excited about hisses and growls do much.” She said.

“Her vocal cords must be different if she can’t hiss,” Lilith nodded. “But I doubt that will be a problem.”

“Okay, er, blood vessels or something?” Eda tried. “Those could be different. If she doesn’t have a bile sac, who knows what else she does or doesn’t have.”

“I really think it’ll be fine,” Lilith insisted. “I doubt that vaccines as modified as these will cause serious harm to Luz.”

“This isn’t a spell that’ll go away after a day, Lilith,” Eda growled, pacing around the living room table. 

Lilith flinched at the obvious reference and cleared her throat.

“As hard as it seems to believe, I do want Luz to be safe.” She said, carefully keeping her voice low. “I understand she means a lot to you. But it will only get worse if she’s left to the elements on her own.”

Eda glanced back, scowling with her ears laying back.

“I’ll think about it.” She finally said. “We’ll see how she is when she gets better.”

“Thank you, Edalyn.” Lilith sighed, the tension releasing from her shoulders.

“But if she gets them, I’m making you take her.” Eda added, pointing an accusing finger at her sister. “Which gives me more leverage to bully you if she hates you. Those things are painful.” She winced at the memory.

“Uh huh, of course.” Lilith nodded, mildly amused. “And because I can at least pretend I’m not a wanted criminal?”

“That too.” Eda agreed. “Also, if you kidnap Luz, it’s on sight.” She warned, eyes narrowing.

“Why in the world would I want to…?” Lilith began to question before Eda gave her a deadpan stare and she slowly shut her mouth again.

“Right, of course. How could I ever forget?” She sighed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep reminding you.” Eda said cheerfully.

“Oh, I’m well aware.”

  ,

Luz had been better within a few days. Still a bit sniffly, but otherwise no worse for wear. Eda had finally relented to letting her get vaccines, and true to her word, Lilith was the only one who took her.

Of course, disguises were hardly needed. It had only taken a year for everyone to recognize the residents of the Owl House on instinct alone. Though Lilith did make illusions to make sure the Emperor’s Coven wouldn’t come around.

And the sheer intimidation of her existence was enough to convince the healers to usher Luz away to get her shots that, in the humans opinion, looked a lot like leeches and hurt way more.

Aside from a somewhat numb arm full of leech bite-marks, Luz returned to the Owl House with no problems, despite Eda’s best efforts to prove otherwise.

Lilith, incredibly smug, said that really, the worst that would happen was that Luz would get sick for a bit and need checkup, but nothing more.

With that, Luz had gone to bed to read her books with King before passing out like she always did.

Eda could never push away a small lingering quiver of worry.

 ,

Eda was awoken at six in the morning to the sound of something, very loudly, crashing down the stairs.

And since she was used to interruptions like these, and heard plenty of muffled giggling and thumping after the fact, she wasn’t overly worried as she pulled herself out of her nest.

“Luz, did you sneak in a baby griffin again?” Eda called, walking down the hallway towards the stairs.

“Eda, Eda,” Luz’s giggling drifted from the bottom of the steps. “Eda I can feel colors.”

Eda paused for a brief moment, slowly processing what she heard her say.

Then she broke into a near-sprint as she stopped at the top of the stairs, spotting Luz in a tangle of limbs at the bottom, giggling like a madman.

Eda hurried down and pulled the kid up, checking for any broken bones or sprains, which thankfully there were none of.

“Eda, colors feel weird.” Luz whispered, looking up at the witch. “Really really weird. But also kinda cool?”

Eda sucked in a breath at the sight, letting go of Luz.

Her pupils were heavily contracted. Like she was staring right into a flashlight. While she spoke, her left pupil had suddenly expanded and began growing and shrinking at the speed of a broken lightbulb.

“Oh boy,” Eda breathed, worry creasing her brow. “Do you feel alright, kid?”

“Thirsty,” Luz said, her head slowly falling to the side before she jerked it back up again. “And excited! I don’t know why, but I am! Everything’s really bright but also not?” She said, looking around.

“Christ, I haven’t seen a trip like this since King ate moondust.” Eda murmured, running a hand through her hair and shaking her head.

“Hmm?” Luz hummed, clearly only half paying attention.

“Just, go sit on the couch, please.” Eda sighed. “I need to get Lilith.”

“Okay!” She said, overly cheerful.

And then she just stood there, blinking fish-eyed at Eda, still smiling.

“Uh, kid? Couch,” Eda said, pointing off towards the door to the living room.

“Oh, yeah,” Luz said, shaking her head and stumbling, slamming into the doorframe on the way out.

Eda watched Luz leave for a few seconds before growling and storming her way back up the stairs.

King had awoken from where he was in Luz’s room and sleepily poked his head out, half-awake.

“Keep an eye on Luz,” Eda instructed him as she walked by. “Don’t let her touch anything.”

“Oh, someones in trouble,” King sang before scampering out of Luz’s room.

“You bet she is,” Eda hissed, stopping in front of the makeshift storage room they had made into Lilith’s room.

She didn’t even bother to knock, she just threw the door open.

Lilith was already waking up from the noise, her hair a mess and rubbing at her eyes. She looked up, saw Eda furiously standing in the doorway, and let out a sigh.

She calmly picked up her glasses from an old table she’d made (Eda had insisted she get her glasses back since she had no reason not to use them anymore), put them on, and slowly stood up, mentally preparing herself.

“What happened this time?” She asked calmly.

“Luz! Luz is what happened!” Eda shouted. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought she’d snuck into the Night Market!”

“And by that you mean…?” Lilith asked slowly.

“She looks drugged, Lilith.” Eda hissed. “How long is this going to last, exactly?”

“I don’t know, I’m not a healer.” Lilith shrugged, clearly trying to hide an amused smile. “Let me see her, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Don’t eat the glyphs, Luz!” King’s yelling from downstairs reached their ears. “Don’t--Luz that’s fire!”

Eda’s sneer grew and Lilith pointedly refused to meet her gaze.

Without a word, the sisters hurried down the stairs and into the living room, both mentally preparing to have to put something out.

Luz was in the process of eating a ripped up glyph, both pupils blown wide, blitzed out of her mind. King was stuck under one of her arms, holding the other end of the glyph he had probably been forced to rip to stop her from activating it.

“Eda, what happened to her?” King demanded, squirming in the human's grasp. “She thinks the glyphs are pancakes!”

Lilith snorted, stifling a laugh at the sight. Eda gave her sister a glare that would melt Emperor Belos himself, and her smile quickly fell.

“You’re right, you’re right, not funny.” She said matter-of-factly. “Did she wake up like this?” “I assume so,” Eda said, walking over to the girl and picking her up from under her arms. “She fell down the stairs and said she could feel colors.”

“These have a lot of colors,” Luz giggled, pulling the ripped glyph out of her mouth and waving her around.

“...alright,” Lilith said slowly, placing her hands together. “Clearly, the vaccines had more of a side effect on her than we thought.”

“Ya think?” Eda hissed, holding Luz upright as she looked around at everything, her eyes nearly entirely taken up by her pupil.

“On the plus side, I doubt this will be permanent.” Lilith continued. “Most of the vaccines given to her were ones that wear off over time.”

“How long, exactly?” Eda asked.

Lilith pressed her mouth together in a thin line, weighing her options.

“...about ten years?” She said, raising her hand and tilting it. “Sometimes five?”

“Lilith!”

“It’s probably just her body reacting to the small bits of illness and magic,” Lilith said quickly, mildly nervous. “It’ll get out of her system eventually, I’m sure.”

“And how long,” Eda grit her teeth together, grabbing Luz’s hood as she tried to wander off. “Do you think this’ll last?”

Lilith frowned, thinking for a moment.

“A week at worst,” She decided. “If nothing changes by then...we may have to ask in a favor or two.”

“You are so lucky Amity likes you,” Eda growled, pointing a finger at her sister. “Or I’d do worse than send you to Hooty.”

“I didn’t know this would happen!” Lilith defended. “I genuinely thought it would be okay! You think I want her like this?” She said, gesturing to the girl with her hand.

Eda knew very well she didn’t. Lilith could be uncaring and annoyed with practically everyone around her, but she knew better. And, well, even she had admitted that using a child as a shield that one time was a bad move.

And, besides, her apprentice, as far as she knew at least, was friends with Luz. So that automatically put her higher up on Lilith’s list than others.

Didn’t change that Luz was even crazier than normal now, though.

“You insisted on this, you fix it.” Eda finally decided, pulling Luz closer. “This is borderline disturbing, even for her.” She said, looking down at Luz’s glazed, but still happy, expression.

“I’ll do what I can,” Lilith promised. “In the meantime, let’s hope being a little delirious is the worst of our troubles.”

“Don’t jinx us, Lilith.”

 ,

“So, we’re basically on Luz-watch now?” Willow asked, eyeing Luz as she downed her fifth water bottle in an hour like a shot.

“We’re all on Luz watch,” Eda corrected. “Lilith is off trying to find something useful while we gotta sit here and hope she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“Like being thirsty is a crime,” Luz huffed, her right eye half-lidded with a contracted pupil. 

“Fascinating,” Gus murmured, poking Luz’s cheek. “I never would’ve imagined something as simple as a few vaccines would cause such a severe reaction in humans.”

“Who knows? Maybe it’s just a Luz thing,” Willow suggested, holding her friend up as she started to heavily lean to the side.

The trio were all sitting on the floor in front of the couch in a semicircle. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were expecting Luz to start coughing up blood.

“There are lights everywhere,” Luz grinned, gazing with drooping eyes around the room. “They kinda hurt.” She said, her smile never falling as she squinted her eyes.

“You better not get worse,” Eda warned, crossing over to the kitchen. “You kids hungry? It’s still morning.”

“I had a snack on the way here,” Willow assured the witch.

“Has Luz eaten?” Gus wondered.

Luz stared at him blankly for a moment before Willow nudged her.

“Mm, not hungry,” Luz mumbled, her left pupil dilating for a moment before contracting to the same size as her other one.

“Are you sure you feel alright?” Willow inquired, frowning.

“Yes and no?” Luz squinted. “I’m like...feeling so great it’s uncomfortable. Does that make sense?” She asked, turning her head to her friend before almost falling over again.

“At least she can talk a bit better now,” Eda muttered, poking her head back into the room.

“Luz is going to get better, right?” Gus worried, peering over Luz.

Eda opened her mouth, shut it, thought about her words for a few moments, and inhaled deeply.

“Yeah, eventually.” She said, praying to the Titan she wasn’t lying. “We just don’t know when.”

“So does this mean I can study her?” Gus asked excitedly, eyes shining.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Willow said carefully, relenting to just always keeping an arm around Luz as she stared off into blissful space. “I doubt she’ll stay still.”

“I want to see what kind of symptoms she has,” Gus defended. “This is the only time I’ll ever get to know what some of our medicine does to humans!”

Eda flinched at the unintended reminder of Luz’s current situation. She was almost glad Luz could barely process any of the words being spoken around her, she was sure the human would’ve noticed as well.

“Just be careful with her, you hear?” Eda relented. “I’m not about to take her to a healer and risk this information making it to the Emperor’s Coven. A little studying will probably help us.”

“Yes!” Gus pumped a fist in the air and conjured himself a pencil and paper. “If anything, think of this as a recording of what’s going on. I doubt Luz will be able to remember all of this in clear detail.” He said, tapping his pencil on her head.

Luz jolted, looking towards Gus dumbly at the sudden touch.

“Hm, pencil isn’t very colorful.” She hummed.

“Where’s rich girl, anyway?” Eda asked, leaning in the kitchen door frame. “I thought she would’ve rushed over here.”

“She doesn’t even know this is happening.” Willow said. “You just called me and Gus, told us to hurry over, and then hung up.” She deadpanned. “We didn’t know the situation until we got here.”

“Eh, fair.” Eda nodded. “Poor girl would probably have a heart attack at the sight of her,” She gestured a hand to her apprentice.

“Amity would definitely have some choice words,” Gus agreed.

“Amity?” Luz suddenly perked her head up, looking around wildly like a puppy who’d been told they were getting a treat. “Amity’s here?”

Willow and Eda shared a knowing glance before turning back to the human.

“No, Luz, Amity isn’t here.” Willow said calmly.

Luz visibly drooped, disappointed. At least they knew she could still feel other emotions.

“Do you want me to call her?” Willow asked the girl.

Luz rose up again, excited. Gus was reminded of an emotional yo-yo.

“Great, more children,” Eda muttered. “You two are handling her inevitable panic.”

“Fair,” Willow nodded, pulling out her scroll. “Gus, take Luz for a minute.”

“Huh?” Gus looked up from taking notes just in time to get crushed by Luz falling over him.

Willow dialed Amity, ignoring the strangled cries of distress from Gus. She picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, Wills,” Amity crackled through the scroll.

“Amity!” Luz trilled happily, sitting up from where she was crushing Gus.

“Is that Luz?” Amity inquired.

“Yeah, we’re at the Owl House.” Willow explained, holding Luz back from tumbling over her by holding a hand against her face.

“I can breathe!” Gus gasped. “Hi, Amity!” Luz giggled.

“Hey, Luz,” Amity mumbled.

You could see Willow’s will to live leave her body. Eda gave up and went back into the kitchen to grab herself a snack.

“Luz is in a bit of a situation at the moment,” Willow said calmly. “Turns out our vaccines don’t clash well with her.”

“What? Is she okay?” Amity worried, and the sound of shuffling was heard from the other line.

“Yeah, just really blitzed out.” Willow assured. “She says she can feel colors and is excited to an uncomfortable extent.”

“Willow has a lot of calm colors,” Luz grinned, giving up trying to squish Willow and instead dropping her head onto her leg. “I like ‘em.”

“That...sounds concerning.” Amity said slowly. “I’m coming over.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Willow said, before hanging up.

“Yay! Amity’s coming!” Luz cheered, trying to raise herself to a sitting position and wincing. “Ow, too loud.”

“Too loud?” Gus repeated, trying to write something down. “What is?”

“Spoke too loud,” Luz whined, shutting her eyes.

“You...usually speak that loud when you're excited.” Willow raised a brow. “Are your ears alright?”

“Just round,” Luz snickered at her ‘joke,’ cracking open an eye. “Everything about me is round! Round ears, round fang teeth, round face,” She said, proceeding to squish one of her cheeks in her hand.

“Your round ‘cause your squishy,” Willow agreed, helping Luz sit up properly.

“Very squishy,” Luz agreed. “I am the squishiest.” She said seriously. “Is your vision normal?” Gus asked, cautiously leaning closer to his friend. “No more spots?”

“Mm, less so.” Luz said, staring off at nothing. “And I think the couch is alive,” She said calmly.

The friends looked at the couch, and upon seeing it wasn’t moving, turned back to Luz.

“There’s...nothing happening.” Willow said slowly. “I mean, it could be alive, but nothings happening right now.”

“Are you sure?” Luz frowned, squinting intensely at the couch. “I swear the cover is like...rippling.”

Gus looked to the couch, back to Luz, back to the couch, and then back to Luz again.

“So she’s getting hallucinations,” He said, writing it down. “Good to know.”

“She what?” Eda called back, confused.

King poked his head through the kitchen door, his tail flicking.

“Eda wants to know what you said,”

“We heard her.” Willow sighed.

“Hallucinations. Luz thinks the couch is moving,” Gus said, not even sparing a glance up from her notebook.

“Oh, did it wake up?” King asked sincerely. “Eda! I think the couch woke up again!”

“The couch is alive?” Willow squeaked, pulling Luz closer and scooching away from it.

“Ha! Knew it,” Luz weakly waved a fist. “I knew it had to be alive.”

Eda reappeared soon after, double-checking that the couch hadn’t woken up. Gus was about to tell her the same information he told King, but the sounds of Hooty shrieking at someone caught everyone's attention.

They couldn’t make out his words, but it was hard to miss his high-pitched voice. Eda walked to the front door and cracked it opening, fully expecting to see Lilith or some random kid trying to find the Owl House again.

Instead, she saw Amity, hissing with fangs bared and looked ready to punch Hooty in the face. Which was understandable, considering he was continuously bugging her.

“Someone was anxious to get here,” Eda chuckled, swinging open the door and crushing a small piece of Hooty’s body between the door and the wall.

Hooty squawked and started harping on Eda, complaining and turning his attention away from Amity.

“Oh, hey, Eda.” Amity said, calming down and smoothing her hair back.

Eda could visibly tell Amity was trying to not breathe in too deeply, sure-fire evidence at how fast she had rushed to the Owl House.

“In here,” Eda said, letting Amity inside before shutting the door on Hooty’s complaints.

“Hey, Amity.” Willow greeted numbly.

Luz, who had previously been laying against Willow’s shoulder, popped up at a speed that made Gus concerned that her neck might’ve cracked. 

“Hi, Ami!” Luz said cheerfully, her pupils immediately dilating so wide that you could barely see the whites of her eyes.

Amity paused, looking like she was about to be flattered before seeing the state Luz was in. She knit her brow together, clearly even more anxious as she hurried in, getting on her knees beside her friends.

“How long has she been like this?” She asked, hesitantly reaching out a hand before pulling back.

“Since this morning,” Gus said. “Eda said she’ll be fine.”

“That’s a relief,” Amity exhaled.

Eda mumbled something and slipped out of the living room. King was about to follow her before she spoke something quietly to him and left. 

Instead, the demon pouted and sat at the door leading to the staircase hallway, his arms crossed.

“Oooh, you’re really colorful,” Luz said, grabbing Amity’s outstretched hand and pulling it closer.

“I--huh?” Amity stuttered, blushing.

“It’s so pretty,” Luz whispered, sounding not all there as she pressed Amity’s hand to her cheek.

“Don’t pass out on us,” Willow teased the furiously red witch. “I’d hate for you to die at fifteen.”

“Don’t test me,” Amity growled.

“Can you feel these ‘colors’ with other people?” Gus questioned the human.

It took a few seconds for Luz to react but she eventually looked back up at Gus.

“Mmm, yeah,” She mumbled. “Eda’s are weird,” She enunciated, swaying slightly.

Willow slowly held a hand on her shoulder to stop her from toppling. If Luz noticed, she didn’t comment.

“So, she’s really high right now, is what I’m getting at.” Amity said, looking over Luz, who still refused to release her hand.

“Pretty much,” Willow nodded. “At least the vaccines gave her a happy-high. I don’t know if we could handle a panicky or angry Luz.”

“Where’s,” Luz slurred for a moment, her right pupil contracting. “Where’s my, my,” She struggled for a moment, clearly forgetting what she was trying to say.

“You alright there?” Gus asked, trying not to laugh.

“¿Cuál es la palabra para eso?” Luz muttered under her breath. “Capucha...gato...gato capucha…” 

“Is she speaking backwards or something?” Amity asked, alarmed.

“Oh, oh! Luz explained this to me once,” Gus said, perking up. “She said it was a human language...Spanish I think.”

“Hoodie!” Luz finally burst out before wincing and ducking her head, finally releasing Amity’s hand.

“Your hoodie?” Willow blinked. “Luz, you grew out of that four months ago.”

“Did someone say Hooty?”

Everyone groaned as the bird tube himself popped in through the window, happily chattering in his high voice.

“Did you guys miss me?” He yapped on.

Luz suddenly yelped and clapped her hands over her ears, doubling over into a ball. Her friends whirled back to her, startled.

“Is she still all weird?” Hooty continued, circling around them until his head was right by Luz. “Hi, Luz! Are you still being weird?”

Luz whimpered and curled into an even tighter ball, turning her head away from Hooty and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Quit it!” Amity snapped, shoving the birds face away. “You're scaring her!”

“Scaring?” Hooty repeated, though he did move back. “But I didn’t even do anything mentally scarring this time!”

King, who had fallen asleep at the door, was easily awoken by Hooty’s screeching. He noticed Amity pulling a balled-up Luz further away from Hooty, murderous intent in her gaze, and was quick to rush over.

“I’m awake! I’m awake! What happened?” He asked, skidding to a stop.

“I don’t know, but Hooty’s freaking out Luz.” Willow said, reaching out a hesitant hand to the girl.

“Hey! You! Shoo!” King snapped to the bird, waving his paws at him. “Don’t make me get Eda!”

“Alright, alright! Sheesh!” Hooty grumbled, slowly pulling himself back out the window. “I didn’t mean to do anything, gosh.” He muttered, frowning as he disappeared back to the front of the house.

“Luz?” Amity worried, looking down at the shaking girl halfway in her lap. “Luz? He’s gone now, it’s okay.”

Luz cracked open an eye, revealing it had contracted to a disturbingly small size. She slowly removed her hands from her ears and sat up, almost knocking her head into Amity’s chin.

“Are you alright?” Willow worried, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder.

“Loud,” Luz whined, rubbing at her ear.

“Should I call Eda?” King worried, coming up in front of Luz. “I should call Eda. Hey, Eda!” He shouted, turning his head away. “Eda!”

Luz hissed and jerked back, shutting her eyes and covering her ears again.

King jumped back and covered his mouth with his paws. Willow was quick to wrap her arm around Luz’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry!” King exclaimed, immediately covering his mouth again when Luz’s flinch revealed he’d been too loud again. “Sorry, sorry,” He whispered, taking another step back.

“Luz?” Willow worried.

“Loud,” The human repeated, burying her head in Willow’s shoulder. “It’s loud.”

The other three all looked to each other with concern.

“But...Hooty and King always talk like that.” Amity said slowly. “It...it’s never bothered her before.”

“She must have gotten more sensitive to sound,” Gus said, his voice lowered. “Us talking normally must already be quite loud. And considering King and Hooty are naturally louder when they talk, she must think they’re screaming if they go so much as a few notes up.”

King sat on the floor, his paws still wrapped around his muzzle, his face full of horror and shame.

Rapid footsteps were heard coming down the stairs, and Eda was in the living room in a flash, holding her staff in one hand.

“What happened? Is everyone okay?” She asked, hurrying over.

“Luz is sensitive to sound,” Willow explained softly. “Hooty and King hurt her ears without meaning to, that’s all.”

“Great, another symptom.” Eda muttered, her staff vanishing in a flash of light. “How sensitive?”

“Anything higher than normal talking is painful,” Gus said, quickly writing it all down. “To her, it must sound like we’re already talking loud, but she’s putting up with it.”

Eda sighed and ran a hand down her face. Luz had recovered from King’s shout and peeled herself off of Willow, hands hovering by her ears in fear there would be another loud noise.

“I’m gonna go get Lilith,” She decided, watching Luz pitifully. “I need to know what else is going to happen to her.”

“What?” Luz blinked, looking around. “Why was everyone shouting?”

“Sorry,” King repeated again, shaking his head.

“You didn’t know,” Eda leaned down and ruffled the fur behind his head. “Luz, maybe you should go rest.”

“I’m not tired,” Luz said, becoming cheerful again. “Not at all! Hey, do you think I could climb the Knee and back?” She asked, turning to Willow. “I think I could do that.”

“Don’t,” Willow said, standing up and helping her friend off the floor. “We’ll stay with her.” She assured the older witch.

“I’d say don’t do anything stupid, but we all know that’s going to happen no matter what.” Eda said, crossing her arms. “Just don’t do something overly stupid.”

“Understood,” Amity nodded, scooping up King as she and Gus stood.

Luz paused before whirling her head around, nearly falling over at the force if Willow didn’t catch her in time.

“Ami?” Luz blinked blearily. “When did you get here?”

“This is going to be a long day,” Eda sighed, shoulders slumping with the weight of a sky.

“We’ll try to get through unscathed,” Gus said, glancing at Luz as she started staring at and inspecting her own hands, confused. 

“Key word; try.”

,

“I think I swallowed another light spell,” Luz groaned, face-down on her sleeping bag.

“You didn’t. We would’ve seen it.” Willow said, glancing back at the girl.

“I must’ve,” Luz muffled through the bag. “I feel like it.”

“Huh, so she’s hallucinating sensations, too.” Gus said, sitting cross-legged by the window and writing in another page of his notebook.

“Or she could just feel awful,” Amity pointed out, leaning against the wall behind Luz. “I certainly would, considering the state she’s already in.”

“Please don’t throw up like last time,” King begged, his voice barely above a whisper as he placed his paws on Luz’s arm. “That was disgusting.”

“Water,” Luz mumbled, raising a hand and grabbing at air. “Need water.”

Amity picked up the water bottle on the floor beside her and crawled over, placing it in Luz’s open hand.

“Humans can’t die from drinking too much water, right?” Gus asked, looking up from his notebook.

Luz looked up and tilted the water bottle, never raising her head off of the floor. She opened her mouth and let the water trickle out and into her mouth.

Her friends all watched her, mesmerized at the sight. Luz’s grip on the water bottle loosened after a few minutes and it fell and hit her in the face, causing her to hiss and water to spill.

Amity muttered before pulling Luz into a sitting position by her shoulders. The girl was still staring off blankly, like this outcome was completely out of the blue.

King came back with old clothes Eda never used and Willow mopped up the water with them, barely batting an eye.

“Aw,” Luz finally reacted, mournfully watching her forgotten water bottle which was now only a quarter-full. “My juice…”

“Luz, you're getting soaked.” Amity sighed, grabbing one of the unused shirts and dabbing at Luz’s shirt and face.

“Like it, it’s cold,” Luz said, though she did nothing to stop Amity.

“Cold? Are you feeling too warm?” Willow asked, glancing up.

“Uh,” Luz stared off for a moment. “Yope.”

“Yope?” Gus echoed.

“Nes? Yo? Noes? Sio? Ni?” Luz tried out a bunch of different words, often slurring them together.

“Luz, what are you saying?” Amity sighed, trying to get the worst of the water off her shirt now.

“What’s yes and no combined?” Luz questioned Gus. “You’re smart, you know.”

“Maybe?” Gus tried, raising a brow.

“Maybe?” Luz frowned. “How can you be ‘maybe’ smart?”

“You’re maybe too warm?” Willow reiterated.

“I’m like…” Luz spaced out for a moment before snapping back to reality, both her pupils at different levels of dilated. “Hot and cold?”

“That’s mildly troubling,” Gus spoke, flipping to a new page in his notebook.

“I feel like I have a weird fever,” Luz sniffled, blinking her eyes rapidly. “You know? You know like...like when you're so sick you're too extreme in both temperatures.”

“I think I had that once!” King raised his paw excitedly before quickly lowering back down when he saw Luz flinch at his voice. “I had frostbite on my fur after I ate a fire-twig. I couldn’t stop moving for like, three hours.”

“Mood,” Luz nodded solemnly.

“I’m...pretty sure that’s not an emotion…” King said slowly.

“So, do you want like, extra blankets?” Amity suggested.

“I want to die,” Luz whined, almost flopping over onto her face again before Amity grabbed the back of her shirt and held her up. “And everything smells like those weird street corners.”

“Smells fine to me,” WIllow said, laying the wet clothes on the ledge in front of the window. “Do you want to change into a non-wet shirt?”

“Oh,” Luz nodded after a few beats. “Yeah,” She said, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling up.

Amity, who had previously been tossing the damp cloth away, turned back around just in the nick of time.

“Not right now!” She squeaked, frantically grabbing Luz’s hands and forcing her to shove her shirt back down.

The other three whirled back to the girls, startled by the sudden noise.

“Ow,” Luz complained, removing her hands and rubbing at her ears. “Loud,”

“Sorry, sorry,” Amity whispered, jerking her hands back.

Her ears were pressed down, and she was a bright red from the tip of each ear.

Willow rolled her eyes but made no comment as she stood up and offered a hand to Luz. The human stared at it for a moment before Willow took the humans hand herself and helped her up.

“I’ll ask Eda if she has anything that’s not covered in dust,” Willow asked her, gazing around at Luz’s room. “Somehow, I doubt she keeps her clothes on the racks in here.”

“I,” Amity shook her head to clear it. “I think she has a chest in the room down the hallway.”

“I’ll check it out,” Willow nodded, keeping a hand on Luz’s shoulder and guiding her out of her room.

Thus leaving Amity, Gus and King to their own devices.

They all looked at each other.

“You wanna cut holes in Eda’s raggety clothes and stitch them together?” King asked casually. “Yeah I do!” Gus grinned, throwing his notebook and pencil aside.

“I’m picking the fabric,” Amity said matter-of-factly. “You guys will just make an unholy abomination.”

“Says the girl in the abomination track,”

,

“Maybe...if we split my head open...the pain will stop.”

“I’m not cracking your skull like an egg for a headache, Luz.”

“Do you think zombies would like that?” Luz asked, raising a hand in the air. “Would it be like scrambled eggs?” “That’s disgusting, Luz.”

“Not to the zombies,”

Luz was laying across the couch, her head hanging off the armrest, holding a warm washcloth against her forehead. Willow was sitting on the other end, with Gus perched on the armrest beside her. Amity was sitting on the floor in front of Luz with King in her lap, making sure she didn’t slide off the couch.

“Some guy did it once,” Luz continued, her eyes covered by the washcloth as she wildly waved her other hand around in the air. “Some god or something. Head split. Woman popped out. It was a whole thing.”

“Wait, really?” Gus gasped, eyes shining excitedly.

“Gus, she’s high.” Willow deadpanned. “I don’t think we can trust most things she’s saying right now.”

“It was a thing!” Luz insisted, trying to sit up and failing. “Learned ‘bout it...Big Z got a nerdy war daughter. Like…” She paused for a moment. “Like Amity, but a goddess.”

Amity made a few strangled choking sounds, and King glared up at her. Though he didn’t try to move out of her lap.

“I’m writing it down anyway,” Gus said, scribbling furiously.

“How’s the headache?” Willow asked.

“Killing me slowly,” Luz said, rolling her head to the side on the armrest so she was nearly falling off the couch. 

She moved the washcloth further up, revealing her pupils going off the fritz for a few moments before appearing to pulsate in size.

“I wanna run laps and then curl up on the floor,” Luz said, eyes glazing over in that way you knew she was focusing on nothing at all. “I wanna slam into something.”

“Wh...why?” Gus said slowly.

“No idea,” Luz shrugged, her voice sounding far too cheerful. “Maybe if I run into a wall I’ll start feeling normal. I should try that.” She said, beginning to sit up.

“Absolutely not,” Amity snapped, her voice a bit strained as she sat up and sharply pushed Luz back onto the couch. “You’re not getting any more brain damage today.”

“Eda told me she already fell down the last few steps on the stairs,” King piped up.

“Few?” Luz repeated, blinking. “I fell down all ‘em.”

There was a few seconds of silence where everyone soaked in her words.

“You fell down the entire flight of stairs?” Willow repeated. “Yeah?” Luz looked between her friends, perplexed. “What?”

“Didn’t that hurt?” Amity winced at the thought. “You’re lucky you didn’t break anything!”

“I didn’t feel a thing,” Luz shrugged, completely uncaring. “Felt like falling in a ball pit.”

“You fell down wooden stairs, and you felt nothing?” Willow gaped.

“Nope,” Luz smiled.

Her friends stared at her for a few moments, all in different states of concern.

“Oh, her pain tolerance shot up, too.” Gus spoke, breaking the silence. “Her ears and head must either be incredibly painful or they don’t work the same way.”

“I’ve never felt more terrified for Luz in my life,” Willow near-wheezed. “She could have a cracked bone right now and we wouldn’t even know.”

“I’ll be fine,” Luz waved a hand. “Mamás a doctor, I know things...many things.”

“I know Eda is a lot of things, but I doubt she’s a doctor, whatever that is.” Gus said, confused as he looked up.

Everyone froze. Gus realized who Luz was talking about a moment too late.

Luz squinted and stared down at the couch, washcloth slowly sliding off her head. Her left pupil expanded before slowly shrinking. She looked like she was trying to reboot her brain, and swayed slightly.

“Hey, Luz!” Amity quickly sat up, giving her friend a nervous smile. “You wanna dress up King in that weird patchwork shirt we made?”

“Uh, yes,” Luz went right back to smiling.

A silent sigh of relief swept through the room.

“How could you?” King cried, lowering his voice a second into his outburst. “Haven’t you tortured me enough?”

“It was a cupcake, King.” Amity said, standing and scooping up King in her arms.

“And you crushed it mercilessly!” 

Willow glanced back at Gus, who’s ears were flicked back. He was staring at his notebook, looking like a toddler who’d been caught trying to steal food from the counter.

“Sorry,” He whispered when he caught Willow’s look. “I wasn’t paying attention…”

“It’s alright,” Willow sighed, watching as King squirmed in Amity’s hold and Luz tried to sit up. “We’re all trying to get used to it.”

“King, c’mere,” Luz cooed, putting her hands on the armrest and trying to pull herself up.

Before promptly losing her grip and falling face-first off the couch.

“Are you okay?” Amity worried.

“Feeling nothin’,” Luz said, giving a thumbs up as she raised her head. “Never better.”

Amity cringed back at the sight, and King made an ‘ew’ noise, curling closer in the witches arms.

“She gave herself a black eye, didn’t she?” Willow sighed.

“Yeah…”

“Titan save us, she’s not gonna last a week.”

,

“Oh don’t cha dare look back, just keep ya eyes on me, I said ya holding back, she said shut up and dance with me,”

The quintet were all sitting around the kitchen table. It was well past noon, too late for lunch but too early for dinner. But King had gotten hungry and so everyone had eaten at what Luz had called ‘dinunch’ or ‘lunner.’

Well, everyone aside from Luz. She vehemently refused to eat anything. So she’d resorted to laying upside down on her chair, her head on the floor, and singing some human song nobody at the table knew.

“This woman is my destiny, she said oooooh, shut up and dance with me!”

“I’m going to lose it,” Gus whispered, staring at the table with the gaze of centuries of pain.

“Ha! Luz it,” Luz giggled. “McLuz it. Puns,” 

“Shouldn’t Eda be back with Lilith by now?” Willow asked the demon sitting on the table by Luz’s chair.

“Eh, she may have just started studying at the library with her.” King shrugged. “Or they’re busting themselves out of prison, either is plausible.”

“We were victims of the night,” Luz continued humming. “The chemical, physical, kryptonite.”

“At least she’s not whining about headaches,” Amity shrugged.

“Helpless to the bass and the fading light, oh we were bound to get together, bound to get together,” Luz tilted her head while on the floor, eyes closed.

“For your sake, I hope you don’t remember today all that well,” Willow said, rubbing her temples. “Luz, are you keeping that ice on your eye?”

“She took my arm!” Luz trilled, though it was no louder than regular talking. “Don’t know how it happened, we hit the floor and she saaaaaaid,”

“Luz,” Willow repeated.

“Oh don’t cha dare look back, just keep ya eyes on me, I said you’re holdin’ back, she said--”

“Luz,” Amity said, peering under the table.

Luz paused, blinking open her eyes and holding them on Amity. One of her hands was splayed out by her head, loosely holding a wet towel with no ice in it.

“What happened to the ice?” Amity sighed.

“Huh?” Luz blinked, her pupils fritzing out for a moment. “Oh, I ate ‘em.”

“You ate four cubes of ice?” Willow cried, standing up suddenly. “Why? Why in the world…?”

“Wanted to see what it’d taste like.” Luz said earnestly. “Tasted bad,”

“Then why’d you eat all four?” Gus raised a brow, also peering under the table.

Luz looked at him blankly.

“Shut up and dance with me!” She went right on singing. “This woman is my destiny, she said oooooh,”

Everyone at the table couldn’t look more tired. Willow sighed and got up to get more ice for Luz’s black eye, which had swollen to the point where it could only open halfway. 

“Okay, you’re making me nervous from that position, please sit up,” Amity said, getting up from her chair and standing by Luz, who was still singing on.

“A backless dress and some beat up sneaks,” Luz sang. “My discotheque, Juliet, teenage dream! I felt in in my chest as she looked at me,”

Amity gave Gus and King a look of utter pain and confusion before crouching down by the human, snapping her fingers to get her attention.

Luz jolted to attention and rolled her head to the side, looking up at Amity.

Her pupils dilated wide before one flickered slightly smaller.

“Can you get up?” Amity asked her.

Luz opened her mouth to reply before slowly shutting it again. She did this a few more times before turning her head to the side and avoiding the witches gaze.

Amity sighed and resigned to helping her up herself. She picked up Luz’s feet and took them off of the back of the chair, setting them to the side at a very awkward angle, considering Luz refused to move.

“Lost my place,” Luz mumbled.

For a second Amity thought she was complaining about her current position being shifted, but as her friend started singing again, she knew she couldn’t care less.

“She took my arm, I don’t know how it happened,” She hummed. “We took the floor and she saaaaaaid,”

Amity leaned down and took Luz’s hands, pulling her up. She was now facing off the side of the chair, finally sitting in a normal position.

Luz looked up to her, blinking innocently. One pupil contracted and she broke into a goofy grin.

“Take me home tonight,” She sang on, keeping a hold on Amity’s hands and trying to pull herself to a standing position. “I don’t want to let you go till we see the light.”

Amity stepped back, unconsciously helping to keep Luz standing, watching her in confusion. She glanced at the others, but Gus wasn’t paying much attention, just glad Luz wasn’t singing the same lines over and over again. King barely spared them a glance, much more interested in notes Gus was looking over.

“Take me home tonight,” Luz grinned, pulling Amity’s hands back till she was nearly nose-to-nose with the girl.

It likely would’ve been a lot more romantic if Luz’s eye wasn’t swollen and black. Plus her pupils that were still fluctuating.

“Listen honey,” Luz chanted. “Just like Ronnie said,”

Amity slowly drew her head back, beginning to flush brightly. Luz giggled and gave her a lopsided smile.

“Luz...Luz what are you--”

“Be my little baaaaaaaby,” She snickered, placing her head on Amity’s shoulder and continuing to give short laughs.

“Luz?” Amity stuttered, trying to get her hands out of Luz’s grip. “Listen, you--” She swallowed. “You need to sit back down…”

“Is everything okay?” Willow asked, appearing with more cubes of ice wrapped up in a washcloth.

“Oh don’t you dare look back!” Luz suddenly shot back, snatching Amity’s arms and tugging her along. “Just keep your eyes on me!” 

She misjudged the distance between her and the table, smacking her back into and crumbling to the floor, not as steady on her feet as everyone thought.

The back of her head hit the table as she fell. She didn’t make any noise of pain, simply toppled over and landed on the floor before roughly sitting back and knocking against the table leg, looking dazed.

“Luz!” Amity cried.

Gus and King jerked up as Willow rushed over, crouching by Luz along with Amity. 

Luz still looked almost to be in a state of shock, but it was hard to tell from how her head turned and pupils contracted. Willow reached out and turned her head to inspect the damage.

“Yeah, it’s bleeding.” Willow winced. 

“How much?” Gus asked, peering over the table.

“Uh,” Willow pulled her hand back, revealing Luz’s blood coating it.

Amity sucked in a breath and her eyes went wide. She quickly turned Luz’s head to see for herself as Gus and King hurried around to them.

She couldn’t tell where the cut was under Luz’s hair that she was beginning to grow out, but it was bleeding rapidly. A large patch of her hair was dark red with blood gushing out.

“Call Eda, call Eda!” Gus exclaimed as King rushed to Luz, worrying over her.

“Call the healers!” King insisted over the witch.

Luz winced and covered her ears, whimpering at their frantic shouting. Willow quickly pulled out her scroll and began dialing Eda, clearly just as freaked out as the others.

Amity was in a state of shock. She was sitting on her knees at Luz’s side, just staring at the blood beginning to trickle down Luz’s hair and onto her neck. Her pupils were slitted into thin lines, and her breathing had become heavy.

Luz opened her eyes, but kept her hands over her ears because of the shouting. She gave her friends a hurt look before noticing the stilled fear on Amity’s face.

She frowned and nudged Amity’s leg with her foot. When the witch didn’t respond, she turned to King, who was sitting closest to her, and nudged his back with the same foot.

King turned, and everyone's shouting paused.

“Guys?” Luz said, one eye dilating as the back of her shirt grew soaked with blood. “I think something’s wrong with Amity...”

,

Lilith sat on the couch, looking over as many medical papers she could. She finally wore her glasses, and she had notes lay strewn about on the coffee table. She was exhausted, and words were beginning to blur together.

It was almost one in the morning, but she couldn’t stop yet.

After a study session and quick escape from Kikimora yesterday, Eda had been called and informed by panicked teenagers that Luz had hit her head on the table and was heavily bleeding on the floor. Lilith didn’t think Eda could get that scared in such a short amount of time, but you learn something new every day.

Thankfully, Luz had turned out fine. Her head injury wasn’t all that serious, it just turns out humans bleed more from head wounds than witches.

But considering that in just a few hours Luz had managed to get said head injury, a black eye, and traumatize her friends, Eda was quick to shoo them away.

Lilith hated the pained expression plastered to Amity’s face.

She couldn’t be mad at Eda, not really. Her little sister was scared for Luz, and who wouldn’t be? Having to deal with three more kids was far from her to-do list.

Luz had been patched up by very concerned healers, leaving Lilith to insist that, no, they had not drugged a child, she was just having a bad reaction to vaccines.

Her friends had come back the second day, but Luz was on constant surveillance watch by them and Eda alike. Not much had changed from the first day, though Luz had somehow managed to get her head stuck in a cardboard cylinder.

She was glad when they left before dinner. The constant terror flashing in Amity’s eyes worried her beyond belief.

Technically speaking, Lilith supposed, it was the third day now. But she was too busy focusing on finding anything useful to dwell on it.

She heard creaking steps and didn’t bother to glance up. It was probably Edalyn. She was awake at all hours and was probably off to grab a snack.

She heard heavy footsteps and eventually something flopping down at the edge of the coffee table.

A moment later, a head was placed on it.

Lilith looked up then.

Luz was sitting on her knees at the end of the table, her chin resting on the end with her arms loosely dragging in the floor. She had bandages around her black eye and head, and, according to her, making her look like ‘a pirate.’”

“Luz?” Lilith blinked, setting down her pen. “What are you doing up?”

“Not tired,” Luz said, her eyes turning to the witch.

Her right pupil expanded, nearly taking up all the color in her eye.

“Well, you should try to sleep,” Lilith said simply. “I have tea to help calm you down, if you want.”

“Nah,” Luz said, looking back to the papers. “Whatcha doing?”

Lilith, already tired and not thinking completely straight, decided it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to humor the human.

“Studying,” She said simply. “To help you.”

“You are?” Luz perked up, raising her head off the table. 

“Um, yes?” Lilith raised a brow. “I have been for a while now. Did you not know?” “Nobody told me!” Luz shook her head, placing her hands on the table and holding herself up. “You found a lot on the human...human thingies,” She commented, gazing at the papers.

Lilith suddenly understood, and she felt a twinge in her chest. She decided not to think about it for too long.

“Oh, no, no, I’m not studying for that.” She explained. “I’m studying how to make you feel better, not the human realm.”

Luz’s smile instantly fell. She slumped onto her elbows and glomily lay her cheek on the table.

“Oh,” She said sadly, letting out a sigh. “Okay,”

Lilith frowned, her chest suddenly feeling just a bit hollower. She thought she must’ve been feeling the weight of her exhaustion, but she was quick to realize the real issue.

Lilith sighed dramatically and ran a hand through her hair.

Great Titan, she’d begun to truly care, hadn’t she?

She bit her lip and glanced back at Luz, who was still sorrowfully staring at her papers, her pupil now contracted to half the size of a dime.

“But,” She said cautiously, catching Luz’s attention. “I suppose I could help you with that...once you feel better, of course.”

“You will?” Luz shot up again like a rocket. “Thank you!” She smiled.

Lilith gave a small smile and chuckled.

“You’re going to regret all that happened these last few days when you gain control of yourself again,” She said, going back to flipping through the pages of a medical book she found. “I know I would.”

“Why?” Luz asked, tiling her head curiously.

“Wh--Luz, even you must realize you’d never be like this in your normal state.” Lilith said matter-of-factly. “You hate me, remember?”

Luz stared at her blankly for a moment. She crossed her arms on the table and rested on them, giving her an innocent look.

“No I don’t,”

Lilith paused. She slowly glanced over to the girl, confused.

“You do,” She said firmly. “In case you forgot, I used you to lure Eda to the Emperor’s Coven and could’ve gotten you seriously hurt.”

“You did?” Luz asked, before realization dawned on her. “Oh yeah! You did,” She chuckled. “I used to have nightmares about that.” She said casually.

Lilith flinched and turned away, focusing her attention on the paper she’d read over and over again.

There was a stretched silence for a few moments. Lilith thought Luz had fallen asleep, but she was still staring at her.

“Don’t hate cha,” Luz said again, her pupil flickering. “Ya no, al menos,” She mumbled.

“And why’s that?” Lilith sighed. “If you’d care to enlighten me,”

“You try,” Luz said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, I definitely have favorites,” She said, turning her head on her arms. “But you’re off the hate-list. Hate file. Hate...paper.” She stuck out her tongue.

“Luz, with all due respect, I’m finding that hard to believe.” Lilith said simply. “You’re in a deleriated state, and I don’t trust your words at the moment.”

“I know stuff!” Luz shot back, glaring.

“What’s six times three?” Lilith asked.

Luz stared at her for a moment. She looked down at her fingers and began quietly counting on them.

“...twenty-three?” She suggested hesitantly.

Lilith gave her a deadpan stare before sighing and setting aside another paper.

“My point still stands,”

“But I don’t,” Luz whined, pounting.

“Not to be unappreciative, but Eda is far more deserving of you than I ever will be.” Lilith said simply, ears flicking back.

“Eda’s not perfect,” Luz muttered. “She made me break into the crema...the...tori...prison.” Luz muttered. “Prison break.”

“She made you break into the crematorium?” Lilith jerked up.

“First day,” Luz grinned, raising a finger. “For a...a lil crown.” 

She suddenly lit up, happily facing Lilith.

“Hey, hey,” She started giggling. “Did you, did you know Warden Wrath,” She could barely hold back her laughs. “Wrath had a crush on Eda?”

Lilith’s eyebrows raised, and she searched Luz’s face with hesitant interest.

“I did not…” She said slowly. 

“It was weird,” Luz giggled. “And, and she forgot my name!” She said gleefully. “Had to remind her who I was.”

“She did?” Lilith said, slowly setting her pen down.

“And she laughed at me,” Luz added, resting her chin on the table as she thought. “And told me to dig through trash. And almost killed me while cursed.”

Lilith visibly flinched, turning away. She had never heard that Eda transformed while Luz was stuck in the house with her. 

How Luz made it out unscathed, she wished she knew.

“And she made me cheat at the covention,” Luz continued rattling off. “And Eda swapped our bodies because...petty I think. And made me shove moss up my nose. And she sold some of my old stuff,”

Luz visibly frowned slightly at that one.

“And she taunted me by saying I was fragile. And a bunch of other things,” She continued, her pupil spazzing for a moment. She visibly winced before it calmed to enveloping half her eye.

“That’s...quite a bit.” Lilith said slowly. 

“Yeah,” Luz nodded, before placing her hands on the table again and raising herself up.

“But I still love her,” She said cheerfully. “She did good things, too.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about those, you don’t need to list them.” Lilith quickly assured the kid. “Eda boasts about her accomplishments all the time.”

Luz smiled and began messing with the pen Lilith left on the table, rolling it around as her eye followed it.

“You’ve done good, too.” She said quietly. “I like that you try,” She said sincerely, looking up. “I try.”

Lilith watched the girl for a moment. She offered the tiniest of smiles and glanced down at her hands, looking them over.

“Thank you,” She said quietly, holding her hands close. “I...I appreciate it.”

Luz ditched the pen and held herself up higher, looking proud.

“And if I’m honest, I’d almost think you weren’t as affected as we thought,” Lilith raised a brow in amusement. “Are you sure your not actually high?”

Luz blinked at her, tilting her head in confusion and frowning. She looked down, then looked back to Lilith.

“I’m on the floor,” She said.

“...never mind.” Lilith sighed, shaking her head. “You’re a wonder, Luz, you know that?”

Luz puffed out her chest with pride and brought a hand to it. She was about to say something, but she had been resting all her weight on her hands, and with one removed, she promptly slipped and cracked her chin against the coffee table.

“Are you alright?” Lilith exclaimed as Luz groaned and held her chin, falling onto the carpeted floor. “Ow,” Luz whined.

Lilith muttered under her breath and took off her glasses. She got up and walked over to Luz, helping the girl to her feet.

“At least you can feel pain again,” She murmured. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Luz didn’t respond, but she allowed the witch to guide her out of the living room, still whimpering about the pain. 

Lilith had gotten to the bottom of the stairs when Luz leaned against her side, holding her arms. Lilith looked down at her before wrapping an arm around the girl and gently leading her up the stairs.

Her studying could wait.

,

“Des-pa-cito,” 

“Day three into Luz’s descent into madness,” Gus droned over Luz’s singing. “And I’ve lost my will to continue on.”

“Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito,” Luz sang deliriously, though at least she seemed to be having fun.

The friends were all sitting on the living room floor, with Eda and King messing with some glyphs on the couch.

“Where’s Lilith?” Amity wondered, eyeing Luz, who was laying on her back on the floor.

“Holed up in her room studying on something,” Eda waved her hand casually. “Don’t know, don’t particularly care. Unless it's useful to us right now.”

“Deja que te diga cosas al oído,” Luz hummed. “Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo.”

“When Luz said she was going to distract herself from her headache, I wasn’t expecting this.” Willow said calmly, already glazed over from three days of putting up with this.

“It’s not that much different from yesterday,” Amity insisted.

“Des-pa-cito!”

The green-haired witches expression, however, proved that she was tired of dealing with Luz’s shenanigans as well.

“Quiero desnundar--” 

Luz suddenly cut herself off, staring at the ceiling. Amity glanced over, noticing a crimson on Luz’s face as her unbandaged pupil contracted.

“Luz?” Amity asked.

“Nope, not saying that.” Luz said, still staring at the ceiling.

Amity raised a brow and glanced at her friends. They only gave her clueless shrugs. Not like any of them knew Spanish.

“I’m too hungry to put up with this,” Eda grumbled, getting up from the couch and ditching the fire glyph she was trying to draw. “You kids want lunch?”

“It’s three PM?” Gus said, glancing up.

“Time is an illusion and so are you,” Eda responded, walking by the kids. “You hungry or not?”

“I am,” King said, scampering after her.

“A bit,” Amity nodded, standing up. “C’mon, Luz.”

“Not hungry,” Luz said simply, turning her head to watch as her friends all got up.

“I know for a fact you haven’t had lunch today,” Eda said, stopping and looking back. “You gotta eat, Luz.”

“I’m just not hungry,” Luz whined. “Wake up not hungry, stay not hungry.”

Eda frowned as Amity offered a hand and helped Luz to her feet.

“Didn’t wake up hungry?” Eda repeated. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“No,” Luz said bluntly. “Wasn’t hungry.”

“Luz!” Willow scolded.

“What? I’m not!” Luz huffed, crossing her arms.

“Luz, when was the last time you ate?” Eda sighed.

Luz paused. She scrunched up her face for a moment before beginning to mutter and count on her fingers.

You could see the fear spike through everyone in the room.

“Uh, not yesterday,” Luz mumbled. “Not...yesterday-yesterday…”

“You haven’t eaten anything in over three days?” Gus exclaimed.

“Ow,” Luz grumbled, pointing to her ears before her pupil contracted. “But...yeah, think so. Wasn’t hungry,” She shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eda groaned, disturbed. “Come on, Luz, you’re eating something.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Eda snapped, grabbing the back of the girls shirt and tugging her into the kitchen. “You not feeling hungry in three days is the most worrying thing you’ve said. The no-pain thing is definitely second.”

“I swear we thought she ate before and that’s why she wasn’t hungry,” Gus said, hurriedly following after.

“Not your fault, I should’ve paid more attention.” Eda shrugged, dumping Luz into the kitchen chair where she pouted. “Add that to the list of vaccine symptoms.”

“No wonder she keeps falling over,” Willow murmured, casually shoving Luz back into her seat when she tried to get up. “I would too, if I was functioning on no food.”

“Shouldn’t she have gotten better by now?” Amity asked, pacing on the opposite side of the island counter. “Eda, when did you say she’ll get better?” “I…” Eda paused, one hand on the fridge door as she thought. “...a week. A week at most.” She said, glancing back. “We’ll be seeing progress between now and the end of this week, I promise.”

She almost winced at her own lie. Which was a rare sight for the con-artist.

“I’m fine,” Luz grumbled, slumping onto the table. “I’ve had worse,”

“While you weren’t inebriated, Luz.” Amity deadpanned. “It’s one thing when you get yourself into trouble on your own, this is worse.”

“Dramatic,” Luz muttered, but didn’t comment further.

“Willow, you're the strongest, right?” Eda asked, turning and placing a bowl of leftover meat chunks on the table.

“Yeah?” Willow blinked. “Why?”

“Hold her down,” She instructed the witch. “Because she will fight back.”

Willow didn’t react for the first few moments, allowing Eda’s words to sink in for Luz. She started to shoot up and make a break for it, but Willow quickly snapped out of it and shoved the human back into her seat with little difficulty.

Luz flailed and even tried to bite Willow, but it did practically nothing. A sharp shoulder squeeze at the human wincing and obediently sitting still.

“Is this...common?” Gus inquired.

“No, not really.” Eda shook her head. “I just figured since Luz was having such an aversion to eating for three days, she probably wouldn’t be inclined to now just because we asked nicely.”

Luz tried to mimic a hiss as Eda set down the bowl in front of her. Gus giggled at the sight, since it was more like her saying the word hiss than the actual noise witches made.

“Every day, I lose more of my sanity in this house,” Amity said, stepping away as Luz tried to struggle again and Eda searched for a fork.

“Welcome to the club, kid.”

,

Luz had been sent to bed three hours earlier. 

It was the end of the third day.

Eda, for some reason, was wide awake.

This wasn’t out of the blue. She was usually up at odd hours due to her curse. She felt less inclined to do so now, but thirty-year-old habits die hard.

She figured she woke up on her own, so she got up to get a snack like usual, and to check on Luz in her room.

But when she left her own room and looked down the hallway, she saw that Luz’s door was wide open.

Panic seized her for a brief moment before she forced herself to calm down. An open door didn’t mean anything, get yourself together.

Eda poked her head inside Luz’s room and looked around. Sure enough, her sleeping bag was left abandoned, and the human was nowhere to be seen.

Her first thought was Lilith. Nothing specific at all, just that Lilith was responsible.

She shook her head and looked back towards Lilith’s ‘room.’ The light was still on.

She opened the door a crack, seeing Lilith was sitting on the floor, ready to pass out. She had books and papers strewn out before her, half of them medical, the other half everything on humans and their realm she could find. Eda knew Luz and Gus had already read through those before.

She felt the tiniest twinge of guilt at the immediate blame before silently shutting the door.

Maybe Luz had just gone for a snack, like her. It wasn’t too unusual for her to creep out at midnight.

Granted, she wasn’t on the verge of toppling over at every step those last times.

Eda walked down the stairs and looked around. She checked every room, seeing no trace of the human anywhere, her anxiety growing by the minute.

She pulled out a fire glyph and lit the candles around the kitchen, forcibly keeping her breathing normal.

“Hello?”

Eda perked at the sound of the girl's voice and pricked her ears up. She saw that the back door was wide open, explaining why Hooty hadn’t noticed anything. He was asleep at this point, anyway.

She could see the outline of someone standing well outside the house, nearly at the treeline.

“Luz!” Eda called, rushing out the door. “What are you doing out here, kid?”

Luz whirled around, eyes wide and scared.

The bandage around her head was gone, revealing the injury on her head was at nasty cotting phase. Her eye was still dark and swollen, but she could open it far better than before. The healing glyphs had sped up the process, while they had been on.

“Luz?” Eda slowed, coming to a stop a few meters from the girl, the kitchen light from the house giving her a shadow that stretched out right towards Luz.

“It...it’s her,” Luz said, slowly turning her head back around to face the forest. “I can hear her.”

“Hear who?” Eda said, taking a step closer. 

“Listen,” Luz said simply.

So, Eda did. She angled her ears to listen towards the forest, silent and still.

The only sound that greeted her was the wind through the trees.

“There it is!” Luz suddenly perked up. “That’s her!”

There hadn’t been a sound.

Eda knew her hearing was well more developed than Luz’s, all witches ears were. So the fact that Luz claimed to be hearing something even she couldn’t was...concerning.

“Kid, I can’t hear anything.” Eda shook her head.

“You’re not listening,” Luz huffed, her left pupil dilating. “It’s her! She’s somewhere out here, I know it!” She said, looking around.

“Who?” Eda demanded. “Who can you hear? What are you talking about?”

“My mamá,” Luz said, still scanning the treeline. “I can hear her.”

Oh.

Eda felt a painful twist in her chest. For a moment, she thought her gem was acting up, but it was still the same inky black as before.

“Luz,” Eda started gently, walking closer to the girl. “Your mother’s not here.”

“Yes she is, I hear her.” Luz said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I think you need your ears checked. She’s somewhere out there, I just need to--”

Eda grabbed Luz’s shoulder and she whirled around, startled. Her eyes flickered and spazzed, reflecting Eda’s face before shrinking again.

“That’s not her,” Eda said softly, looking down at the girl. “You’re hallucinating again, kiddo.” She said sorrowfully. “There’s nobody there.”

Luz looked up at the witch, her brows knitting together in a frown. She suddenly jerked back to the forest, head raised.

“But I hear her…” She said quietly, a crack lacing her voice.

“I know you do,” Eda said, wrapping an arm around the teens shoulders. “But there’s no way that can be her. She’s back in the human realm, remember?”

Luz stared up at Eda with wide, searching eyes. She looked back to the forest, her body tense. Eda knew that look and tightened her hold around Luz’s shoulders, her hand placed just below Luz’s collarbone.

“Mamá!” Luz shouted, straining against Eda’s hold. “Mamá! I’m here!” She cried, raising a hand to grab Eda’s, but she didn’t try to pull her off.

Eda realized that the shouting must’ve been torture to Luz’s ears. She could even see the human wince every time she shouted. And yet, she kept calling.

Luz waited, listening intently. Eda sighed and gently tried to pull the human back.

“She’s not there. She would’ve heard you.” She said. 

“She must be stuck,” Luz insisted. “Mamá!”

“Luz,” Eda breathed. “Please, she’s not--”

“She has to be!” Luz persisted, straining again. “She...she has to be...I can hear her…”

The girl looked back at Eda, tears shining in her eyes and already beginning to roll down her cheeks.

Eda’s ears pressed back and she let out a breath, drawing up her other hand to gently grab Luz’s arm, her expression full of sorrow.

“I’m sorry, Luz.” She said softly. “I’m so sorry, but that’s not her.”

Luz sniffled and hiccuped. She opened her mouth to shout more, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. She quickly closed her mouth again, shutting her eyes as tears freely rolled down her cheeks.

The girl turned and buried her face in the crook of Eda’s arm, her hands tightly clutching Eda’s dress as she tried and failed to muffle her sobs.

Eda enveloped the girl in a hug, feeling every shake her body gave as she wailed. The human flinched at every loud noise she made, but was unable to stop it.

Eda offered hushed whispers, holding the girl up and placing a hand on the back of her head. She stared off into the trees, only being greeted by the empty shadows.

The only sound now was Luz’s cries.

The witch, keeping her arms around Luz, began to guide her back to the house. Luz stayed clinging to her side, her face streaked with tears.

It was awkward maneuvering around her, but she didn’t complain.

Luz’s sobs had quieted to choked cries by the time Eda stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

She debated trying to turn off the lights, since she couldn’t rely on her magic to do that for her, but she decided to let the candles burn themselves out instead.

“Can you walk, kid?” Eda asked the girl.

Luz sniffled and nodded, slowly peeling herself off of Eda’s side.

“Come on, let’s hit the hay, eh?” She offered, nudging the girl in front of her. “When’s the last time we got a good night's rest, am I right?” She said, trying a half-hearted joke.

Luz paused at that, wiping at her eyes as she thought.

“I don’t think I’ve slept the last two days,” Luz said, glancing back.

Eda stared at her, praying that the girl was joking. And as hard it was to take Luz seriously with one pupil blown wide and the other taking up her entire iris, she knew very well she wasn’t joking.

“Great Titan, kid,” Eda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Alright, my nest. Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

Luz nodded and began to climb the stairs, holding her hands together to try and stop their shaking. Eda stayed right behind her, fearfully shifting every time she saw the girl sway slightly.

Eda caught Lilith’s door quickly shutting when they made it up the stairs. She wasn’t surprised, Luz hadn’t necessarily been quiet.

Luz stumbled down the hallway, Eda hovering right behind her. She looked away for a moment to look at Lilith’s closed door, noting that the lights were off now.

She heard a thud.

Eda spun around, tensing.

Luz had fallen mid-step, crashing onto the floor in a heap. In a flash, Eda was at her side and pulling her up, terrified something bad had happened.

Instead, she was greeted by Luz’s soft snores.

“Of course,” Eda sighed, scooping her up into her arms. “Just my luck you’d pass out before we even got to my room.” She muttered.

Effortlessly, she carried the human to her room and kicked the door shut behind her. She lay Luz in her nest, leaning her head on the edge to keep it propped up.

Eda searched her room for a moment before finding the spare gauzes and healing glyphs she kept for emergencies. It was awkward trying to wrap up Luz’s head, but she managed and placed two healing glyphs on her, one over her eye and the other on the back of her head.

She searched her nest for a moment before pulling out an old blanket she rarely used. She wrapped it around Luz and lay her back down before slipping into her nest beside her.

Luz twitched in her sleep, but aside from that, she didn’t stir.

Eda lay on her stomach, her head squished against the edge of the nest. She glanced at Luz beside her before wrapping one arm around her, keeping the girl close.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Eda sighed quietly. “You never deserved any of this.”

All that greeted her was deafening silence.

,

“Are you sure you feel fine?” Gus asked for the eighth time that morning.

“Yes, Gus,” Luz sighed. “I swear that I am completely conscious now.”

“Guess your prediction was right,” Eda mumbled to Lilith, standing off to the side from the group. “Been a week, and she’s nearly normal again.”

“Thank goodness!” King breathed, slumping over Luz’s crossed leg. “I couldn’t handle being smothered by you again.”

“Sorry,” Luz winced, giving a sheepish smile. “I take it I…” She raised a hand and felt at her eye, which, while less swollen, was still noticeable. “Caused a bit of trouble?” She guessed shyly.

“Your hallucinations weren’t fun,” Willow nodded. “Or your unending thirst for every water bottle you could find.”

“And your refusal to eat and sleep,” Eda added.

Luz rubbed the back of her neck, hunching her shoulders and offering nervous smiles.

“Sorry, guys.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.” Amity assured her. 

Eda casted a sideways glare at Lilith, who looked away and held her hands behind her back.

“At least you’ll get to freely move around the beast keeping track now,” Willow added. “Viney will appreciate the help, I’m sure.”

“Oh, yeah!” Luz perked up. “No more sick day excuses!” She pumped a fist.

“Which means you’re helping out with the trash slugs now,” Eda reminded with a grin. “Because now you don’t have excuses.”

“Getting vaccines doesn’t mean she’s immune to all sickness, Edalyn.” Lilith grit her teeth and sent a glare towards her sister.

“Yeah, but she won’t get, like, ones that’ll kill her.” Eda waved a hand casually.

“Aw,” Luz slumped.

“A moment of silence for Luz.” Willow said solemnly. 

“Do you wanna read about what happened?” Gus asked excitedly, already pulling out his notebook.

“Am I going to regret it if I do?” Luz turned to Amity.

“Fifty-fifty,” Amity tilted her hand. “I’d skip the part with the broken window and dumpster-diving.”

“And the kitchen incident?” Willow added, giving Amity a smug look.

Amity gave a guttural growl and lowered her ears.

“I’m already worried,” Luz said, anxiously glancing between her friends.

“How about we hold off on the trip down memory lane?” Lilith said, walking around and slowly pushing down Gus’s notebook that he was pulling out. “Luz, aside from the usual symptoms, is anything different?” She questioned the girl.

“Uh,” Luz frowned and thought for a moment. “A mild headache is normal, right?”

“Yeah, you got those all the time.” King nodded.

Luz hummed and thought, tapping her fingers on the carpet before perking up.

“Oh, I think I’ve got a better pain tolerance now.”

“I thought that faded?” Amity exclaimed, panicked. 

“That was an issue?” Luz blinked. “I mean, it’s not that bad. I kinda fell down the stairs earlier but all I got was a regular bruise instead of a small gash like three weeks ago.”

“You really need to fix the stairs if this is a common issue,” Lilith turned to Eda.

“Oh, that’s not as bad.” Willow relaxed. “Your pain tolerance used to be so high that when you cut your head you didn’t feel a thing.”

Luz gave Willow a wide-eyed, very concerned look.

“Wasn’t fun,” Amity shook her head, shuttering.

“Yeah, no, my tolerance is nowhere near that high.” Luz assured them. “And I can sort of feel the magic from my glyphs? I dunno, it’s hard to describe.”

“Probably the magic the vaccines had,” Eda shrugged. “That might last a while longer.”

“Cool,” Luz grinned. “Oh, and my vision feels weird sometimes, but I think I’ll be fine after a few hours.”

“Yeah, that's normal. Your eyes acted up a lot.” Gus nodded. “It was really funny, your entire eye would be just black.”

“...human pupils can’t dilate that much.” Luz said, concern lacing her tone.

“They can now,” Eda snickered. “With the,” She broke off in a fit of giggles. “The power of witch drugs.”

“I’m going to admit,” King raised his head. “Now I’m curious what actual drugs would do to you.”

“You have drugs in the Isles?” Luz exclaimed. “Like, illegal ones?”

“Course we do,” Eda chuckled. “You can find them at the Night Market for, what, ten snails?”

“That’s the cheap ones.” Lilith corrected. “The very illegal ones go for fifty or more.”

“And you know this because…?”

Lilith stiffened and cast a fearful glance at the children all watching her expectantly. Aside from Amity, who looked very worried.

“...I used to catch a lot of people selling at the Night Market,” Lilith said, crossing her arms. “It’s hard not to take notice of how much they were going for.”

“Plot twist of the century, ex-coven leader Lilith Clawthorne snorts fairy dust.” Eda giggled. “Oh how the masses would love that.”

“Edalyn!” Lilith gasped.

“Am I wrong?”

“And this is our cue to leave,” Luz whispered to her friends as the sisters began their daily bickering.

Her friends didn’t argue, they just quickly got up and shuffled towards the door. Willow carried King with them in her arms like a football, much to his silent complaints.

Luz opened the door and guided her friends out, quitey shutting out the arguing sisters.

“Hi, guys!” Hooty chirped.

Luz winced and pulled away, rubbing at her ears.

“Ow,” She muttered.

“Are your ears still sensitive?” Amity worried, shooting Hooty a glare that made him shut up.

“Only a little,” Luz offered a smile, stepping away from the front door. “Anyway, what did I miss while I was out of it?”

“Nothing much,” Gus said, beginning to walk off as the rest followed. “Aside from, like, a ton of homework.” “I expect nothing less,” Luz muttered, pain etched into her face.

“You want me to ask Principal Bump to loosen up on you for a bit?” Amity asked.

“Teachers pet privilege,” Willow whispered under her breath.

“I heard that!” Amity snapped.

“Just a little,” Luz nodded. “I’m still emotionally recovering from being basically unconscious for a week.”

“I still have the notes if you want to read them,” Gus said, slowly pulling out his notebook again.

“On one hand, yes,” Luz said. “But on the other hand, I’m scared of what I’ll find.”

“It’s mostly just filled with you falling over a lot and singing random songs on repeat.” Willow shrugged.

“I have all of them stuck in my head at the same time and I can’t get them out,” Amity whispered, looking horror-stricken.

Luz chuckled nervously, rubbing along the edges of her black eye.

“You know, I think I’m glad I don’t remember much.”

[davids-cartoon-corkboard]

Do you think that if Shredder!Raph will occur in rottmnt, the aftermath might result in Raph inheriting some of Shredder’s rage even after saved? Maybe that is how the crew is going to implement Raph’s trademark temper throughout previous generations and maybe even make him have to step down due to it, making Leo the new leader?

Short answer: “Inheriting the rage of a centuries-old demon" is a dope-ass idea, so if you’re a writer I would definitely encourage you to use that in your own stuff. But I think that if Raph’s temper worsens throughout the show, it should be because of his own character development and not a magical effect. However, a Shredder!Raph scenario could contribute to said worsening temper by inflicting emotional/psychological damage instead. :)

Long answer ahoy!

Looking at “Many Unhappy Returns” from the Shredder’s perspective makes it very clear why he does what he does. Like, he’s been dead for five hundred years, and then something went wrong with his resurrection. He’s waking up with no idea where he is or what’s going on and oh shit those guys are pointing weapons at him, that’s a threat!

Note that he doesn’t even bolt for them immediately, he does a warning stomp and screech (back off!) before starting to approach.

Those other guys are yelling, that’s also a threat,

and they’re closer so he’s gonna attack them first, actually. (None of the Foot wind up even comically injured, suggesting that flailing them around was an intimidation tactic rather than genuine Murderous Intent.)

And then the first group attacks, so of course he’s going to retaliate.

And then suddenly he’s somewhere else, with other threats (the animatronics), and then the first group that attacked him is back, so he’s gonna fight them again.

And these jerks just keep following him? He’s not going to ignore that. And WOW that’s a lot of bright lights and loud noises, which are also threats, what the fuck is going on?!

And then this tiny human girl chucks a giant metal box at him, holy SHIT?! Sure, the Shredder is a dangerous antagonist, but at this point I wouldn’t call him a “bad guy”, he’s literally just responding to what’s happening to him.

In summary, the Shredder was stressed tf out because he didn’t know where he was or what was happening, he retaliated against perceived threats, and quite possibly wouldn’t have attacked the turtles in the first place if they hadn’t just rushed in without understanding the situation.

Gosh, doesn’t that sound familiar?

So yeah, I’m waiting for Rise to give us that good good Shredder!Raph content.

As for the possibility of Leo taking over afterwards... no, but also yes, sort of? On the one hand, we know that Leo does have leadership capabilities, and it would be a waste for the narrative to not explore that. On the other hand, Rise has broken from the status quo in many ways, and it would also be a waste for the show to do a complete 180 and return to Leo Being The Leader™.

Consider how the “leader” role has influenced Leo in past iterations: his perfectionism wears on him and his brothers, any failure tanks his self-esteem, he feels isolated from the rest due to taking on such a large share of responsibility, being an authority figure grinds everyone’s gears, etc. It’s just bad for his mental health.

No doubt all this responsibility will also wear on Rise!Raph as the story progresses and the stakes get higher. It will be bad for him as well. But if Raph steps down, Leo will once again suffer from the weight of this role. So if neither option is quite correct, if neither brother can shoulder the burden of leadership alone, then the solution is just... for neither of them to shoulder the burden of leadership alone. Sure, Raph will probably remain leader in title and in spirit, but Leo taking on a sort of “deputy” role makes sense from a strategic standpoint, and would be good for his character development.

Here’s how I think it could go down:

The Shredder!Raph scenario will be different from the Shredder!Draxum scenario. The Shredder was starved for mystic energy the first time around, so he immediately chewed Draxum up and spit him out. But Raph could be compared more to a battery than a meal; it will take a while for the Shredder to drain him. And at this point the Shredder could be back in “evil samurai” mode, and thus will understand the value of holding Raph hostage.

Y’all who have followed my blog for a bit know about my “Raph is a system” theory; that when he was little, he got separated from his family and pursued by some cryptid hunter. This trauma formed Savage Raph, who is able to handle “being lost/alone/threatened” when Host Raph cannot. “Pizza Puffs” didn’t give us a lot of info about who I’m calling “Red Raph”, but he made his presence known when Host Raph was sort of... "emotionally alone”? In that his brothers were dying a little bit and too stoned to care.

So if Raph is trapped inside a living cage, scared and helpless and hurt and exhausted, his family unable to help him... he’s not going to be able to handle it.

Or, rather, Host Raph isn’t going to be able to handle it.

These two can, though.

I’m imagining a scene in the mindscape where the Shredder says something like “Your pathetic family cannot bear to strike you down, and so there is nothing that can stand in m- wait, why are there three of you OW FUCK-” Red and Savage will mentally kick his ass long enough for the other turtles to rip off a chunk of the armor so Leo can portal it into another dimension or something. Shredder gets K.O.’d since he’s not whole anymore, and the battle is won.

Since the armor didn’t drain Raph as severely as it did Draxum, he won’t become as weak as Draxum did. However, it will still take him some time to recover. Raph trusts Leo in serious moments as of “Many Unhappy Returns”, and he already took charge when Raph wasn’t available back in “Man vs. Sewer”. So Raph will be like, “Hey Leo, can you handle the Mad Dogs for a bit? Just long enough for me to get back on my feet.” And Leo will be like, “Sure bro, I’ve got this.”

He does not, in fact, “got this”. Leo’s ego has caused trouble before (”Shell in a Cell”, “Minotaur Maze”), and being in charge will no doubt go to his head. This has the potential for both comedy and seriousness, leading to wacky mishaps and genuine danger. Being the leader is hard work and it’s not always fun, but someone has to do it and Leo will have to put the others before himself for it to get done. Once Leo realizes this, he could bond with Raph by asking for his advice on leadership. Sometimes Leo will follow the advice and sometimes he won’t, sometimes that will work out and sometimes it won’t, laying the foundation for the idea that there are situations where it will be better for one or the other to lead, rather than having one lead all the time. But that will only happen for a few episodes, because Raph will heal quickly and he’ll be the leader again and everything will be fine!

Everything will not, in fact, be fine. Raph is the strongest in the family, the tank, the one who can take a hit so the smaller ones don’t have to... the idea of being hurt, of being weak, scares him because his family is also in danger if he’s unwell. So I don’t think he’ll acknowledge to anyone, not even himself, that getting possessed hurt him emotionally as well as physically. And when a wound isn’t acknowledged, it doesn’t get tended to, and when a wound isn’t tended to, it gets worse.

That he’s a system will add another layer of complexity to this. The Shredder!Raph incident would make all the alters aware of each other via mindscape shenanigans, but it would also leave them with the fear of not being in control, so I think they’ll come in conflict with each other for a bit. They’ll argue with themselves, switch, and lose time more often, enough that it impedes their ability to function and the other characters start to notice something is wrong.

Host Raph will convince himself that Everything Is Fine and try to get things “back to normal”, which probably means he’s just straight-up not going to acknowledge that he's a system. He’ll rationalize that he’s always “gotten weird” from time to time, so it’s nothing to think too hard about... right?

Savage Raph will be on high alert because they just survived a near-death (a near soul-destroying) experience. He’ll probably take the front and go overboard fighting some villains that Host Raph could have ordinarily fought on his own. It might also take a while to convince Savage Raph that these “sewer monsters” who keep following him around really don’t mean him any harm.

Red Raph will get snappy (pardon the pun) about the more social aspect of “not being in control”; that Host Raph asked Leo to be in charge and then Leo started being an egotistical dumbass. And when Leo does make the right decisions, Donnie and Mikey might side with him over Raph, and that will also grind his gears.

Mix all that together and you have a recipe for a capital b Breakdown.

So yeah, I can definitely see how the Shredder!Raph incident and its aftermath would worsen all three of their tempers, trauma will fuck up your emotions real bad. Perhaps Host Raph loses faith in himself and tries to step down and get Leo to replace him as leader... only for Leo to be like “Bro I cannot do this full time I will one hundred percent have my own Breakdown if that happens.”

The life lessons here are that Leo learns to offer support by sometimes taking the leader role; not to benefit his own ego, but because he wants to help Raph. And Raph learns to accept support by letting Leo be in charge sometimes; not because he’s weak or incapable, but because he can’t always be a Staunch Immovable Rock and he needs to let himself rest by trusting Leo.

And then the Raphs can work on communicating, cooperating, letting their allies know about them, digging into their trauma, etc. now that they have some breathing room.

(Do you think the Hidden City has therapists? Steven Universe and Mao Mao both have therapists can we BLEASE get one for Raph.)

[infinitefandomimagines]

Consequences - Harry Bingham x reader

WARNINGS: ANGST, LANGUAGE, CRYING, 

REQUEST: Hiiii, I saw that you were taking The Society requests and I was curious to know if I could submit a request for the reader being with Harry and finding out about Harry, Campbell and Lexie’s scheme with Allie and Will and being super conflicted. If possible could it be super angsty? I love your work so much, thank you for taking the time to read this even if you don’t decide to write it. Love ya xo

+

Hello!! Love your work, can I please request a Harry Bingham angst imagine?

-

You weren't supposed to find out, that much was obvious. The shock on Harry's face the second you confronted him in his room told you he didn't plan on telling you, and the disappointment on your face told him how screwed he really was.

"So what exactly was your plan, huh? Keep me in the dark forever, or just until you and Lexie were the new rulers of New Ham?" Venom dripped from each word as you tried to mask just how truly hurt you were, how betrayed you felt.

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but as far as you were concerned those questions were rhetorical, you weren't finished saying your part.

"On day one you said it was just you and me, that no matter what we could trust each other, that we would have each other's backs. We promised-You. Promised." Your voice was starting to betray you, shaking as your emotions tried to break through, but you refused to cry, refused to let yourself lose control. "Did you even think of how this genius plan of yours would affect me? How it would affect anyone who isn't you?"

"Campbell promised you'd be safe, I made sure-"

"Oh yeah, cause Campbell is so fucking trustworthy!" Your voice was slowly climbing in volume despite your attempts to stay as calm as possible. "Campbell doesn't give a shit about me, or you, or anyone in this town, he only cares about himself. Can't you see he's just manipulating you? You really think you're gonna be the one making the decisions? You're his fucking puppet Harry."

"Give me some credit, I have it handled, I-"

You cut him off again, "Can you honestly tell me that you've actually thought of the consequences of your little plan?"

Y/N-"

"I mean honestly Harry do you think of anyone but yourself? Did you even consider-"

"Would you let me fucking talk?" He yelled, a bit louder than he intended. The outburst startled you, the surprise clear on your face. Harry let out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair, "I wanted to tell you, alright? But we couldn't risk telling anyone who wasn't involved and have the plan getting out."

"And what exactly was this plan of yours? Have the guard, the people we all trust to keep us safe, storm Allie's house, and what? Arrest her? Then what? Take over by force and arrest anyone who gets in your way?"

"I know it sounds bad-"

"Bad?" You were shocked at how ignorant he was, did he really not realize his harmful this could before the town? "Harry everything is finally working, stores haven't been raided, people are doing their jobs, an expedition is set to go out soon, and the committee on going home is actually making progress. This town is fragile, even the smallest shift in structure could cause a panic. Your plan would shatter this town."

"You're telling me you're seriously okay with picking up trash every day for what could possibly be the rest of your life?"

"Yeah it sucks, I don't like it either, but it works! What Allie is doing works."

"Yeah well not for me," he fired back, the two of you now in a big yelling match, "Okay, this place sucks! Everything about it sucks! The food, the jobs, the housing, the leaders." Harry felt bad for yelling at you, he hated fighting with you no matter how big or small the argument was, but everything was getting so heated that it was becoming too easy to say regrettable things

"We're on our own! We don't get to live in luxury anymore, Harry! We have to make sacrifices in order for things to work around here, I know you think you can do better than Allie, and who knows maybe you can, but this is our life now, we can't do much better!" Your voice was starting to get raw and scratchy from the amount of yelling, tears stung the back of your eyes, and you were beyond exhausted.

"Yes we can, we can do so much better! Why can't you just trust me on this? I thought we promised to have each other's backs?" He said the last part almost mockingly, and you felt your anger skyrocket, so much for trying to remain calm and collected.

"No!" You yelled in his face, "No, you don't get to throw that in my face, not after all the shit you've pulled! Going behind my back, lying to me, lying to everyone in this town!" Your voice got weaker with each word, finally reaching your breaking point.

Everything was so fucked up, Harry's head was so far up his ass that deep down you knew there was no changing his mind, and the right thing to do was so obvious, you needed to tell Allie and Will, so why weren't you already doing that? Why were you still here trying to convince Harry to change?

You knew why, and you hated it, hated how head over heals you were for him, hated how you still believed in him, hated how even after everything he'd hidden from you, you still loved him. You were stressed, angry, conflicted, but above anything you were just so tired. Tired of the fighting, the yelling, the chaos, the unshakeable feeling something horrible could happen at any moment, you just wanted to be home, back with your family. You'd give anything to have your old life back, Friday night football games, date night every Saturday with Harry, stupid high school drama and cast parties.

You sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, hunched over with your elbows resting on your knees and you head in your hands, the tears you'd been holding back finally finding their way to the surface. Your body shook as you took in ragged breaths, small sobs escaping your lips.

It seemed as though your breaking point happened to be Harry's as well, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, that's why he was so adamant with Campbell about you being safe no matter what, that you would have a say in what happened after he was finally in charge. He knew you wouldn't like the plan the second it was made, and maybe that alone should have told him there was a flaw or two with it, he considered you one of the smartest people in both West Ham and New Ham, but it was the only way to fix things and have a better life. Right?

But seeing you like this? It almost made him want to throw the whole plan out the window. Almost.

Harry took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he crouched down in front of you, his mind searched for some magic phrase that would make everything better, but he knew there was no such thing.

"Y/N," he whispered softly, "Baby look at me."

When you didn't budge he gently gripped your wrists and pulled your hands away from your face, revealing red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He held your hands in between his, lifting them to his lips and placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"I am so sorry I didn't tell you, I should have been honest with you the second Campbell mentioned the plan," your jaw tightened at the mention of Campbell, telling Harry to keep him out of the conversation. "I never meant to hurt you, and if I could go back and do it all over again I would, I'm sorry, Y/N."

He was genuine, and that gave you the silver of hope you needed to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could stop him from doing something he couldn't take back.

"Then tell Allie, stop all of this before it gets out of hand, run for office and try to win fairly," you pleaded. "Please, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he prepared to answer. He didn't know who this would hurt worse, you or him.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he couldn't even look at you as he spoke, his gaze meeting the ground instead. The sliver of hope you'd felt before had been crushed, your heart dropping into your stomach when it finally hit that there was no changing his mind. You were now the one with a choice, tell Allie and betray Harry, or support Harry and go against what you felt was the right thing to do.

"It's not fair Harry," you said in a small, squeaky voice, "It's not fair for you to put me in this situation." You were right, he couldn't argue with that.

"You don't have to do anything, just keep quiet and I promise you will be safe, but if Campbell finds out you know and you're not on board. . . Just, can you promise me you won't say anything?" Harry's eyes finally met yours.

"I don't know, Harry," you whispered, looking down.

"What?"

"I don't fucking know, okay?" You raised your voice, standing up abruptly. "You're asking me to chose between you and what I know is right for this town! I- I just need some fucking air."

You pushed past Harry, wiping stray tears from your cheeks as you rushed towards the door. You gripped the cold metal knob and pulled the door open. However, a hand came down on the door, pushing it shut.

You whipped around to see Harry, his arm extended past your head, leaning against the door to prevent you from opening it again. You let out a sharp breath, scoffing at how actions. You looked up at him in disbelief, but it seemed as though he couldn't quite meet your gaze.

"Open the door, Harry," you said in a dangerous and low voice.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave." His tone held a sense of pain in it. He didn't enjoy what he was doing. Nonetheless, he shifted his body so that he now stood with his back pressed to the door, completely blocking your only way out.

"Fucking what?"

"I'm sorry, I can't until I know you won't tell Allie and Will."

You reached for the doorknob again, even though you knew your efforts would be unsuccessful. Harry grabbed your wrist, his grip was gentle, but that didn't do anything to calm the rage bubbling up inside of you.

You instantly ripped your wrist from his grip, giving him a few choice words in the process. Frustration and anger burned inside of you, and you could feel more tears stinging the back of your eyes.

You turned your back to Harry, walking over to the window at the far end of his room. Soft footsteps echoed from behind you as Harry hesitantly walked towards you, choosing to stop a couple feet away from you.

"Y/N I-"

"Just get out, Harry." You said coldly.

"What?"

"If you won't let me leave the least you can do is give me some space."

There were a few seconds of silence before you heard Harry sniffle. "I'm sorry," he whispered in a broken voice. When you heard the door open and softly close you turned around to make sure he'd actually left.

When you saw he did, you collapsed onto his bed, letting out all of your emotions.

Everything was so fucked.

[jawritter]

You and Me...

Chapter 12

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chapter Warnings*** Therapy session, talk of trauma and trauma-related repercussions, mild talk of nightmares/night terrors, talk of flashbacks, language probably, Hint of body insecurities due to rape. Suggested discussion of rape. I think that’s pretty much it.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 3151 (sorry this one is a little long)

A/N: Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. This is something I actually did and witness, and I realize this one might be hard to read because it is a little heavy.

Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

A short three hours later you found yourself sitting in a small clean room on a small deep grey couch. Two end tables on each end dark oak wood and a coffee table in front of you to match. The carpets are also dark grey. Certificates lined the walls, showing off different degrees, and other accomplishments of the therapist you were here to see. A large window overlooking downtown Austin across from you, and in front of it a large chair and an end table to match other furniture in the room. 

A younger woman, Dr. Melissa Johnson,  who insisted on everyone being on a first-name basis with each other in order to make Jensen feel more comfortable, sitting in the large chair in front of the window, her clipboard in hand, listening closely to everything Jensen had to say. 

You knew this wouldn’t be an easy visit for him, and honestly, he was doing better than you thought he would. He was much calmer than you think you would be in that situation. 

Melissa hadn’t rushed him or pushed him, she simply said. “Okay, Jensen, let’s start from the beginning.” 

That’s where you found yourself now. 

Jensen was sitting on the other end of the small couch to your left, as you listened to things that they had done to him, things you only thought happened to people in horror movies. A tape recorder was going on the coffee table. It was more horrific than you thought. The things they did to him made it was hard to keep your breakfast down. 

You were trying not to let it show on your face. He was doing so well with opening up and finally telling what had happened to him. Not without some convincing that he was in a safe, judgment-free space, but still, you didn’t want him to see you get upset, and then in turn get upset or feel like you were judging him in any way. He was so vulnerable right now. He didn’t need you to be weak.

"Then the next time I came to myself I was in the hospital, and Jared was sleeping on the small couch in the room," he said, shaking so hard you could almost hear his teeth chattering, a light sheen of sweat dripping down his face that he quickly wiped away. 

You knew it was incredibly hard for him to tell that story. Hell, you don't know if you would have been able to go into detail that way.

Once he started talking though it just seemed to flow out of him and keep coming, gruesome detail after gruesome detail.

Melissa put the clipboard down on the table and looked at the two of you. 

“How are you doing now that you're out of the hospital? How are you feeling? Something obviously convinced you to come and see me today. Help me to understand where you're at right now.”

Jensen cleared his throat and set up straighter in the corner of the couch, hands nervously running up and down his knees. His eyes shifting uncomfortably around the room. He finally just shook his head, not answering anyone for a long time. She gave him time, and you did as well. Though you could literally feel your heart racing in your ears.

“I…. I don’t… I don’t really know how to explain it,” he said, shaking his head. You knew that wasn’t the whole truth, but you weren’t about to say a damn thing.

 "Jensen, you went through quite a trauma. Some things are going to come to the surface, the nightmares, night terrors, flashbacks. That's all part of experiencing any sort of trauma. It's your brain's way of dealing with unnatural things. Things that are traumatic. Hallucinations have even been reported in some cases. If you're having any of those things, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Something obviously made you decide to come to see me today... I can’t help you unless you open up to me. This is a safe space, remember." 

Jensen took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “All of it, I’m having all of it... Everything you described, and it’s all so fucking real.”

Your heart broke at that moment. You wanted more than anything to reach out and at least grab his hand, and even started to, but stopped yourself. 

Melissa noticed your movement. She paused and looked at the two of you for a moment. Taking a note at the distance between you on the couch.

“Is it worse when you are alone or does it not really make a difference either way?” she asked. Jensen took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. 

“It’s worse when I’m alone. That’s why I’m staying with Y/N. She was at the hospital with me. We’ve been together ever since.” 

Melissa nodded her head knowingly. Jensen was still shaking lightly but was calming down now considerably. 

"I'm an expert in this sort of trauma. I see a lot of people that have gone through similar traumas as yourself. Then I see some that didn't have such violent traumas. I want you to remember this, everyone deals with things differently. Everyone’s process of healing and the time it takes them to do so is different, and there is no wrong way to do this. Your experience was very violent.” 

Jensen sat chewing on his lower lips, staring at the floor. He looked exhausted, and you were ready to get him out of there, get him back to your apartment where you knew he was safe, you knew he needed to do this, but watching him work through it wasn’t easy.

 “I need to ask you a few questions, some of these may make you a little uncomfortable, but it’s important that if you answer them you do it honestly. They're going to be kind of personal," she said. 

Jensen just nodded his head. You had learned him well enough by now to know that was something he did when he was trying to deflect. Just going through the motions, but not really present in the conversation. 

He did it a lot lately.

“Jensen, are you and Y/N in a relationship,” she asks, and you tried to hide your widened eyed expression from Jensen. 

Since that day in the hospital, you had never spoken about your feelings for each other again, and you didn’t really know where you stood together, but a relationship wasn’t even in the cards rights now for either of you.

“I’d like to be, but I don’t know if I can be. I know I can’t live without her, and I have feelings for her, and I know she does for me, but we’ve never labeled anything. Everything has just been so…” 

Jensen let his words fall away, looking at you, his eyes distance and numb, his gaze unfocused and tired. 

“Y/N, do you want to be in a relationship with Jensen?” she asked, and you were still slightly stunned that he even wanted to be in a relationship with you.

“Yeah... I mean, of course, I would, but I don’t want to push him into something that he’s not ready for you to know?” you tell her. 

Jensen licked his lips nervously and fidgeted a little in his seat.

“Figure it out guys, don’t be afraid to talk about your feelings for each other. I don’t think it would be a bad idea personally. I can see something between you. Even though you hadn’t said anything before this point in our session. You like each other, and I think it can help him heal, as well as you, because it’s hard to watch someone you care about go through something so hard.” 

Jensen nodded his head, looking back down at his lap again.

Melissa picked up her clipboard again, eyeing Jensen carefully. 

"Jensen, this might be hard to answer, but since you were attacked have you been intimate with anyone?" she asked. 

Your eyes got wider, you hadn't expected that question, and apparently neither had Jensen. He was looking at her with a similar expression on his face. 

"I'm sorry... What?" he stuttered, looking at her like she was speaking a foreign language. 

She smiled gently at him, not surprised seemingly at all by his reaction. 

"What I mean is since your attack have you had sex with anyone?" she said calmly. 

Poor Jensen looked like he'd been nailed in the face with a frying pan. You sat there bug-eyed and not saying a word. The answer was not no, but hell no, you didn't expect her to ask that. Obviously, he was in no shape to have any sort of contact in that manner with another human. 

"Uh... She... She's.. Not exactly my “partner”...I," Jensen stammered, trying to regain his composure, his mind obviously going straight to you. That took you again by surprise. "We weren't sleeping with each other before this happened, and we haven't started now." 

He still looked taken aback, and would not look at you if you paid him to do it, keeping contact with the woman sitting across from him. 

"Okay," she said, nodding her head and smiling at him softly. “That’s perfectly okay, I just wanted to know if you had ventured out into that yet. I know things are still fresh, but like I said, everyone deals with things differently. Not being intimate with someone is okay, and if you had that would have been okay too. When I saw the two of you come in I thought that might have been the case between you. I wanted to see where you were in the process of intimate contact before I suggest the exercise that I had in mind for you.”

"Why did you think she and I were having sex?" he asked, not angry, but genuinely curious.

"Well, the way you look at each other mainly. The way she seemed to respond to your pain in retelling your experience that brought you to me. The way she's reached for your hand at least three times since you started telling your story, but stopped short of actually touching you," she said, smiling at the two of you warmly.

All you could think was apparently you weren't covering up your reaction to his attack as you thought you were. 

Jensen was staring at you, blinking, like he'd expected her to say anything, but that. 

"You obviously trust her. People that have gone through trauma like yourself don't tend to allow people outside of their trusted circle to come to these appointments," she said, weighing Jensen's response to her every word. 

"She's been there with me since I was at the hospital basically. We were working together, before... well.. She's been with me ever since, doing things for me that my wife wouldn't even do when we were married," he said, looking down at his lap playing with his watch. 

"Let's do a little exercise," she said, crossing her legs with a smirk on her face. "Y/N, I want you to scoot over on the couch, and sit right next to him, as close as physically possible.” 

You look at Jensen, then back at her. 

"It's okay, trust me. He can handle it. I want to prove to you something," she said. 

You look over at Jensen again. He half-heartedly smiled, but it was his body language that stuck out to yourself and the therapist. 

Before you could even move he had thrown his arm over the back of the couch, and grabbed your hand, making room for you to sit comfortably next to him, and pulling you to him by the hand. 

Slowly you slid into place, and you felt Jensen lean into you slightly. 

"Jensen, it's not abnormal to feel detached from your body after experiencing a violation to the degree that you did. It's a way your body copes. Your mind may be screaming one thing, but your body is doing another. Is that how you feel?" she asked. 

You felt Jensen's grip tighten on you. You looked up at him and you saw silent tears slipping down his face. 

The therapist smiled knowingly, sliding the tissue box closer to you so that you could hand him a few tissues. 

He didn’t have to answer, she already knew...

"It's okay to feel the way you're feeling. Your feelings aren't wrong. They're human nature. It's human nature to feel the need to be close to someone. It's not dirty, or wrong like your mind had tried to make it out to be. Even though you were hurt your body is still gonna have urges. That's because they hurt your mind more than they hurt your body. That's where your battle is going to be. You feel like your control has been taken away from you. That what once might have been enjoyable, or natural, or even intimate has turned filthy and painful. We’re going to help you get that control back, in time, give yourself time, be patient with yourself. Don’t be afraid to push yourself either. " 

She then turned to you. 

"He's not gonna break, He's not glass. He's going to have bad days, he's gonna have nightmares and flashbacks, but he NEEDS the contact. He needs intimacy, and I’m not talking about sex. He needs to feel you close to him, to know you're there. Don't walk around him like you're afraid if you touch him he'll shatter. He wants you to touch him, he wants you to snuggle up on the couch with him. When he's having a bad day he wants you to wrap your arms around him. He's just not able to ask for it right now. You saw how eager he was to have you under his arm just now. I never told him to grab your hand with his free hand. He did that. I never told him to lift his arm and let you closer to him. He did that. Do you understand? Right now he's craving you to be close to him," You look up at Jensen, who is looking anywhere but you and the therapist. 

"Okay,” was all you could say. You felt his grip tighten on your hand. 

“It’s good that you're staying with him. He doesn’t need to be alone right now, he needs you to be there for him,” she said.

"I've been staying at her apartment. Sometimes I go home during the day, but at night I can't make myself stay by myself," his voice sounded ashamed and broken. It made you lean your head onto his shoulder. As soon as you did he tightened his arm around you and took a very deep breath.

"It's okay that you don't want to be alone. That's normal," she said. “You two do need to come to terms on where you stand. That way what I'm about to tell you doesn't seem so awkward." 

Jensen looked down at you honestly a little afraid. 

"I want you to think about moving in with him at his house. I think it might help him being familiar with his surroundings, in his space with you. Someone he trusts... Do you think you would be willing to do that?" she asked you. 

You thought for a moment, honestly a little nervous about what Jensen may think about it, but you decided to play along. You weren’t going to leave him, especially not now, and if he needed to be home, then home with him you’d go... 

You nod slowly. "I can do that if he wants me to," you say, not really believing your own words came out of your mouth, yet never more sure of anything in your life. 

"I want that," he said before the therapist could say anything, eyes locked on you; an emotion that you didn't understand burning deep in the background of his eyes. 

"Okay, that's settled then," she said. "Now the hard part. The part that's gonna be a little awkward and tough. It very well may throw you into a flashback the first time, Jensen," she said, giving him a sympathetic look. 

"Trust me though, this will work. Every free chance you get, Every time you have some time alone. Every time you go to bed at night I need both of you to lay there and cuddle with each other. Let him explore you, let him gain control, and make sure he knows he has control of the situation, eventually get to where you can do it naked." 

Seeing the look on your faces she threw her hand up before either of you could say anything. "Just hear me out," she said. 

Jensen is shaking next to you again. Not that you hadn’t seen him naked before. Just that type of contact while naked seemed to throw him a little bit.

"Sex isn’t what they took away. Your power over your own body, that’s what they took away from you. It's what caused the mental detachment that you're feeling. The only way to get that back is to get your control back. Sex is how your going to do that. I want you to get comfortable in your own body again. It's human nature that eventually this type of cuddling will turn into intimacy. That's gonna be hard the first time. The more you allow yourself to go there though. The more control you will regain, and you will be able to start to heal," she said, handing him a piece of paper. "Come back in a month, before then if you need to. Let me know your progress." 

Jensen nodded and stood. “Okay, we’ll give it a try… I want to get past this.. So bad.”

“You will trust yourself, and trust Y/N,” she said.

Both of you shook hands with her and walked silently to the car. Jensen was still holding your hand tightly. 

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

When the door was finally shut and the two of you were back in your apartment he finally spoke. 

"So, looks like we got some things we're gonna have to figure out between us, apparently we can't just keep ignoring it anymore if I'm ever gonna get better," he said, closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close to him.

"Were you serious? Will you move in with me?" he asked, almost a little afraid of your answer.  

"Yes, I told you I would," you say. 

His grip tightens and he pulls you into his chest as close as he can. 

"Then what will you say if I told you I have feelings for you, and I really want you to be my girlfriend? Do you want to be with someone as fucked up as me?" he asked. 

Which floored you. You weren’t expecting that, but it did make your heart flutter a little in your chest. 

"Jensen, of course, I want to be with you.”

Before you could even finish his lips were on you, softly, sweetly. It didn't last near as long as you wanted it to, but it was a start.

"Well baby, I guess we need to get you packed."

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

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[banalbones]

The Petite Prince: Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, 7, 8

Chapter 4: The Treasure Hunt, Part 1

Summary: Roman is a child. Virgil and Logan lost him, and are on a quest to find him. Meanwhile, Remus loves his baby bro.

Words: 1920

Ships: Familial prinxiety, logince and Creativitwins. Eventual familial royality, roceit and DRLAMP  

Genre: Fluff with a side dose of angst

Warnings: swears, falling, arguing, creepy little gnomes, tell me if there’s any more!

Taglist: @pricklyfish777 @sunflowerblondeuwu @itriedandimtired @draw-your-perfect-world

_____________________________

“Virgil?”

“Yea- oh no…”

“Exactly.”

_____________________________

Logan knew many idiots.

Roman, for one, when he was not a child. Patton, Remus, Thomas and even Virgil, from time to time, were on it.

Logan never knew he could be included on that list, but there he was.

He and Virgil had checked every room in the mindpalace, even Janus’s, but searching for a small child you can’t help but love, whilst simultaneously panicking because you had lost said child, makes you forget certain things.

Remus being certain things.

The pair had somehow managed to forget about the one person (or metaphysical person) who would willingly cause the angelic young prince harm.

The one person!

How does that even happen? How could one overlook something so dire?

Meaning, the resident nerd was in a bad state.

Virgil was in an even worse state.

Logan picked up the small paper crown, being careful not to tear it, and looked to the anxious side.

He really didn’t look great.

_____________________________

He looked horrible, actually.

Hey! It wasn’t that bad!

It was.

_____________________________

Virgil really didn’t look great.

Or feel great, for that matter.

They had lost the bean, which was bad enough, he had already been panicking about that, but, losing the bean to Remus?

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Thoughts were such a beautiful insight to one’s character.

The emo looked to where Logan stood, then to the deep depths of the Dark Imagination.

He had already been to the ‘Light’ Imagination, with its singing birds (annoying) and its lush forestry (also annoying), but the Dark Imagination was still a mystery.

It was comprised of living trees, dead trees, semi-dead trees and any other things that Remus could have thought up.

Meaning, Virgil was terrified to go.

But, he (and Logan) would do what had to be done to save the bean.

_____________________________

Why do you keep calling him ‘the bean’?

‘Cause that’s what I was calling him in my head the whole time.

Aww, cute!

Shut up.

_____________________________

As the left brain boys mentally prepared themselves to go into the hidden depths of the forest of the Dark Imagination, the two brothers (you can’t exactly call them twins at the moment) were having the time of their life.

In Remus’s room, of course.

Remus had seen his fellow sides enter the Imagination, and came up with a brilliant plan.

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

“Hey RoRo, do you wanna prank LoLo and Virgey?”

“Wha d’you have in mi- have in min- in mind?”

“How about we make them go on a little treasure hunt?”

“Yeah!”

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

The smol one hadn’t been hard to convince. He also didn’t know that he was the treasure, which was kinda funny actually, seeing as he kept asking what it was.

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

“Wha’s the trea- the treasure?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“But I don’ wanna…”

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

So, while Logan and Virgil panicked about the paper crown, Roman and Remus created a devious little ‘treasure hunt’.

“Can they figh’ a dra- a dragon?” The miniature royal asked.

Remus looked to the map of the Dark Imagination he had laid out on the table.

“Sure.” He grinned. “Armor and weapons or no?”

Roman giggled.

“With!”

Damnit.

Remus suppressed a groan.

“Whatever you say, little prince.”

_____________________________

The forest was dark and creepy and honestly kind of disturbing.

Virgil shuddered as he caught sight of one of the flying eyes that were following them.He tried to keep his eyes in front of him.

He was failing, but it’s the thought that counts.

“There’s a tower, maybe a mile away.” Logan muttered.

“That’s probably where he’s keeping Roman,”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

A pause.

“I though you didn’t have that one.”

“I now do.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“No, you can’t, you can hear it.”

“Same difference!”

“That doesn’t even make sen-oh shit!”

Oh shit?

Virgil looked over to Logan.

Wait, where was he?

“Loga-AhHhHhHhHhH!”

_____________________________

Ow. That was unpleasant.

Logan stood up.

Or attempted to stand up.

“Ow!”

Why was this place so small? And dark? He was already blind, for crying out loud. Also, where was Virgil?

…

“AhHhHhHhH!”

…

There, apparently.

“Don’t stand up.”

“What the fu-ow!”

He sighed.

That was what happened when one didn’t follow his instruction.

“I know that sigh. Logan?”

“Yes. It is me, Virgil.”

“You could have warned me about the ceiling.”

“I did.”

“And the hole.”

“I literally fell through it before you. How could I possibly have warned you?”

“By screaming ‘hole’ instead of ‘oh shit’.”

“Well-”

 “HeLlO bOyS!” A voice screeched from somewhere in the darkness.

Virgil screamed and grabbed Logan’s arm.

Ow. Why do I keep getting hurt?

“I hAvE a RiDdLe FoR yOu!”

Virgil tightened his grip, causing Logan to wince.

“What is it?” he questioned.

Might as well.

There was a sound of a throat being cleared.

“WhAt Is SmAlL aNd CuTe, LoVeD wHeN yOuNg BuT nOt WhEn OlD? AnSwEr CoRrEcTlY aNd DoN’t GeT eAtEn By GnOmEs!”

The voice then laughed (or screeched, depending on how nice you are) and disappeared.

For a moment there was silence.

Then,

“What?”

_____________________________

Remus and Roman cackled as they viewed what was happening through the fly-eyes. The treasure hunt was going as perfectly as planned.

(Apart from the two getting hurt, Roman had frowned at Remus for that, causing Remus to pout back. The exchange had ended in giggles.)

“Hey ReeRee?”

“Yeah?”

“I wan’ my cro- I wan’ my crown back.”

Remus turned his head to view the three year old.

_____________________________

He actually looked four at this point.

How come?

He was getting happier, so he was getting older.

Oh.

_____________________________

“Do you want a new one?”

“No.”

“Do you want some cuddles instead?”

“Maybe… but my- but my cr- cr-crown…”

Remus saw the smol one’s lip start wobbling, and oh god if it wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing (apart from hammers).

“Do you want Virgey and LoLo to bring it back?”

And then, as if by magic, Roman adorable little grin returned. He lunged forward, hugging Remus’s long, skinny legs.

“Yeah!”

Remus inwardly let out a sigh of relief. He loved his little brother with all of his (admittedly, shrivelled) heart, but he wasn’t prepared to deal with tears.

“Do you still want cuddles?”

“Duuuuh!”

_____________________________

“A toy?”

The screechy laugh returned.

“YoU iDiOtS! tHe AnSwEr WaS rOmAn! GoOd LuCk WiTh ThE gNoMeS!”

Virgil, for a moment just sat there, shocked.

Roman?

The moment lasted for approximately 0.6 seconds as the sound of footsteps filled the hole.

Many, many footsteps.

Virgil swallowed, his breathing quickening, as Logan scooched closer to him.

Then music started playing.

Virgil took a breath.

Do it for the bean.

_____________________________

“Holy mother of hell.”

That had been terrifying. Even for Logic himself.

He had screamed. So had Virgil. And so they decided they would never speak of the incident ever again.

Logan took a few deep breaths as he regarded his and Virgil’s attire.

His tie was ripped, along with his shirt, and Virgil’s jeans were more than a little worse for wear.

Getting away from the gnomes had been easier one would think, simply crawling through the hole they (he shuddered) had come from allowed them to escape.

It had led the pair to a cave in which they were able to stand.

Thank Einstein, I hate crawling.

 “So, now what?” Virgil’s voice echoed throughout the cave.

Logan stepped forward.

Do it for the child.

“We walk.”

_____________________________

Roman, after a healthy dose of ReeRee cuddles, started to feel curious.

There was so much stuff in Remus’s room, after all, and though his ankle still kinda hurt, he still reeeeeally wanted to poke it all.

Possibly with a stick.

“BroBro, stick?” he asked, missing the way Remus’s face filled with joy at being called ‘BroBro’.

“On the way, your highness.”

Roman like the nicknames. Big him never really got all these nice ones.

After being handed the stick by a grinning Remus, the petite prince took a stool (Or what seemed most like a stool) and started calmly climbing the shelves, poking at the stuff in the jars if it was colorful enough to catch his eye.

Remus, on the other hand, was laying on the floor, hands on his heart.

BroBro.

It was so. Pure.

The young prince would perhaps heal his blackened soul.

The Duke was so distracted by the purity of his baby brother that he didn’t even try to dodge the glob of purple luminescent slime.

He blinked.

And heard a snort of barely muffled laughter.

“I’ve been betrayed,” the trash man said dramatically, “By my own brother, no less!”

More giggles were escaping.

“And I am now… dead.”

Remus let his head flop, hitting the floor with a small crack.

After a few seconds, he felt a small finger poke at his cheek (How had that kid managed to get down so fast?) and a voice.

“ReeRee?”

“Ahhh!”

Remus jumped up to lift his little prince into the air, spinning him around and around and around.

Roman squealed and laughed, his little legs kicking the air.

The cutest boy, change my mind.

_____________________________

Virgil and Logan walked. And walked. And walked.

“Are we there yet?”

Logan deigned not to respond. Virgil had already asked seven times. In the past five minutes.

“Are we?”

His voice was higher this time.

Logan groaned.

“No.”

_____________________________

“Hey L, I see a light! At the end of the tunnel! Freedom!”

Virgil had been panicking (shocking) for the past twenty five minutes.

Logan had been getting increasingly irritated for the past twenty five minutes.

Virgil didn’t know why.

(He definitely knew why.)

“I see it, Virgil.”

“But do you really?”

“Yes.”

…

“Mind if I join your conversation?”

Virgil jumped at the lilting voice.

“I’ll do it anyway. Hello fellow travellers.”

“Who the heck are you?”

A small flame jumped out of the darkness, illuminating a figure with delicate features and large wings.

Wings?

“Why, I’m the Dragon Witch of course! Care for some bones?”

“I thought Roman killed you.” Logan remarked.

“He did. That’s why I’m here. Who else could sell bones but the dead? Speaking of,” the witch smirked, “You should buy some.”

“Why?”

The smirk grew.

“Why not?”  

____________________________

And so, the left brain boys bought a few bones, in exchange for a shoe each, before going on there way.

The Dragon Witch smiled as she slunk back into the shadows.

Remus would be pleased.

____________________________

Remus was most definitely pleased.

Two more shoes for the collection!

“Hey RoBro, look! It’s Virgey’s shoe! And Logan’s!”

“Shoes!”

“Shoes.” He nodded.

Roman was playing with a few birds that had followed him from the Imagination. And the squirrels. And the deer. And all of the other forest creatures.

The smol one truly was a prince.

I wonder if they have names.

_____________________________

Roman was enjoying playing with the creatures, especially Elphaba.

Her emerald green feathers shone brightly in the golden light of… something. He didn’t know what, as Remus’s room didn’t have many lights, lest not gold-ish ones.

Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind.

“Hey ReeRee?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think if I si- you think if I sing, the birdies will- the birdies will too?”

Big him always did that. It seemed fun.

ReeRee looked a bit confused.

“Li-li-li-”

Roman got stuck on the word. They were the worst sometimes!

“Big me!”

Remus seemed to catch on.

“Like big you does?”

Roman nodded aggressively. Yes! Maybe Big Bro would sing with him! That would be so fun!

_____________________________

As Virgil finally stepped out into the light, relishing the sweet, sweet sunlight, a bunch of birds appeared and started tweeting out… a song?

Well that was odd.

“Hey Logan?”

“What.”

“Is that the tower you mentioned seeing earlier?”

Because standing in front of them at fifty feet tall, was a tower.

And on top of that tower, was a dragon.

Fuck.

_____________________________

Thanks for reading this chapter of the Petite Prince!

I’m going to introduce Patton and Janus soon, so which one do you want to see first?

[everlastingdreams]

Jaskier x Reader : A Bard Bewitched   Chapter 1

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Notes: The second long story I wrote for this character, I haven't posted the first one yet so don't panic :) Also let me know if you want me to add you to the taglist for this story.

Summary: Unfortunate circumstances cause you to get lost in the forest until the sound of a lute pulls your attention. A handsome bard seems very eager to help you, a damsel in distress, to get out of the forest. One problem, you're a witch on the run and those who chased you into the forest are still looking for you.

Chapters: 1/3

Word count:  1805 words

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You had been helping people for a long time now, healing their ails and pains. It was a peacefull life. Until one day people started to go missing, one by one. Only to turn up dead soon after. Then one day the whispers started, you noticed them, noticed how people became quiet when you were around. It was your worst fear, you had aided this town for years. As a witch, you could help the ill. But now it seemed that they believed you had something to do with the murders. You hoped after all these years they would know that you would never do such a thing. The next day you were awoken by loud knocking on your door. You heard men shouting "Kill the witch!" Over and over again, you had no time to grab anything as you bolted out the backdoor. Having to run for your life you ran into the forest to try and lose those pursuing you. It seemed to have worked as you could no longer hear or see them. This left you with a new problem. You were lost in the forest. Cold, scared but mostly hurt because of the betrayel of the townspeople. They had condemned you without evidence, you were a witch and that was enough evidence for them. You shivered as you walked through the forest, trying to find your way. You had been walking for an hour when you heard something. Deciding that following the noise must lead to somewhere more then trees and well...trees. As you got closer to the sound you realised it was the sound of a lute being played. Then you heard someone sing. At least they're not singing about killing witches you thought. Finally reaching the origin of the singing you saw a man sitting on the grass, leaning against a tree with his back. Mindlessly playing a lute. It looked like he was composing his own song. You wondered if you should talk to him. He didn't look like he carried a sword, and it was just one person. And he didn't look familiar, so perhaps he wasn't even from this town. You stepped from behind the trees, the breaking of some twigs beneath your feet drawed his attention. He looked up from the lute and when his eyes focused on yours he smiled broadly. You approached with caution "Hello.." He sprung up on his feet and brushed some grass from his trousers. He didn't notice the leaf stuck in his hair that had fallen from the tree. He even bowed as you stepped closer "Milady." You weren't used to people actually bowing for you. You weren't royalty nor a highborn. Not even a descendant of a highborn "Hi.. I am glad to find another person in this forest. My name is y/n l/n. I was taking a walk and I fear I have become lost." He stepped closer but still kept his distance as if he was afraid that you would bolt back behind the trees again "Fear not Miss l/n . My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz. But please, just call me Jaskier." It was nice to see a friendly face after everything, a bonus that he was handsome "Jaskier ? The name sounds familiar to me." His eyes lit up "Oh then perhaps you have heard of my song ! It has become quite popular." You smiled playfully at him "You're a bard ?" You saw him nod in agreement. "What song has made people praise you so ?" He grabbed the lute he had put down against the tree "If the lady wishes I could sing it for her ?" He winked at smiled at you and you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Then you remembered why you were in the forest in the first place. People were looking for you, and it was best to remain as quiet as possible because of this. Before you could stop him he began to sing. You recognised the song as he started with the famous line "Toss a coin to your witcher." And with that you also realised that he was the bard travelling with the infamous witcher. You stepped closer quickly putting your hand over the one he was using to control the chords "I have heard of it.". He seemed frozen in place for a moment until you drew back your hand and took a step back again. He cleared his throat, feeling like it had gone dry so suddenly "I am humbled that my song has reached the ears of one so lovely as you, Miss l/n." You chuckled "Please just call me, y/n." "Of course, y/n." He seemed happy to just use your first name. "I know we just met, but I was wondering if you could show me how to get out of the forest ?" you looked at him sheepishly. “Oh !” he clapped his hands together and pointed at you “You wish for me to accompany you ?” You gave him a nervous smile “Well...yeah. Do you want to ? I understand If you-” He quickly interupted you “Of course I will join you, I'm not the type of man to leave a lady stranded in the woods. Please, follow me !” In two quick long strides he was beside you and you started walking, he seemed very eager to help you. A total stranger, and some of your faith in humanity was restored. “So do you wander around this forest often ?” he attempts conversation. You laughed a little “You mean do I get lost in this forest often ?” “Meh, whichever you prefer.” Jaskier couldn't help but look at you. How did he get so lucky to meet a beautiful woman in the forest ? A damsel in distress. Who actually seemed nice. He couldn't wait to tell Geralt about how he found you and helped you and- * THUD * His thoughts were interupted as he fell to the ground after stumbling over a badly placed branch. Within seconds you were kneeling besides him on the ground “Are you alright ?” worry plastered on your face as you scanned his for any damage. He'd leave this part out when he'd tell the story to Geralt. He hissed in pain, not really daring to look at you to see your reaction “Yeah.. I've been through worse.” You took hold of his arm and helped him up “Perhaps. But still, are you okay ? Is anything hurting ?” He looked at you and saw the genuine worry in your eyes, soon finding himself wanting to get lost in them “It's nothing really, maybe a bruise or two.” You brushed some grass off of his sleeve and then reached up to take the leaf from his hair that had been stuck there “There. Good as new.” Jaskier liked you the second he met you, but now he could almost feel his heart burst. He wasn't often shown genuine care and kindness “ I can't believe you're real.” You blinked at him confused “What do you mean ?” “You're just...” he waves his hands at you “.. You just popped up in this forest and you are..” he pauzes, cursing under his breath as he didn't find the right word. “I didn't just pop up here.” you admit awkwardly. “PERFECTION !” the word came to him finally. And he exclaimed it loud enough to make you lean back a little at the sudden loudness. It left you speechless and Jaskier looked at you a little embarresed. “Forgive me. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable by being so forward.” his voice was hushed now. Your lips turned into a sweet smile and you looked at him. The handsome bard who seemed so kind, so sweet and funny. Yet so unsure of himself. “It's alright, Jaskier. I am flattered that you think of me as such. But no one is truly perfect, we all have our flaws, they makes us who we are.” he relaxed again “And I am gratefull to have met such a handsome and kind man like yourself.” you added. His eyes lit up and he started to stumble with his words “I..well.. it's.. I...” You patiently waited for him to form an intelligible sentence when he finally sighed and brushed the last bit of dirt from his clothes. “I would ask you if you would like to join me for a drink some time, but I believe we should make our way out of the forest first.” he tried to say it nonchalantly but you could hear the shaking in his voice. “I'd like that.” you shot him a playfull grin. He was left staring at you, and you could almost see the wheels in his head turn as he thought about it “Sorry.. which part of that would you like ?” he finally asked with an uncertain voice, “You get me out of this forest and I'll tell you.” you kept your eyes on his long enough to give him a hint. Then he blinked and cleared his throat as he turned so he stood sideways, he held out his arm, gesturing for you “Shall we ?” You nodded and locked your arm in his, and for a moment you had forgotten your troubles. Seeing the worst of humanity only hours ago and now seeing the best. A reminder that your work was not in vain, that there was still good people out there who you could help. But would he still think you were perfect if you told him what you were ? “We're almost there, can you hear the river ?” he looked at you. You listened and indeed heard the running of water “I do.” “I was supposed to meet my friend there, it's a little early. I could ask him if you could join us on our journey to the next town ? It's only a day's travel from this one.” Jaskier looked at you hopefully, still paying attention to where he stepped so he wouldn't fall again. “Your friend ? Is it the witcher from your song ?” you asked with caution. “Yes. Geralt Of Rivia. I know he looks intimidating and he doesn't say much more then a few words most of the time but he's a good person.” he pondered the thought. You knew you had to tell Jaskier what you are, maybe he could convince the witcher that you weren't evil. That you didn't mean harm. To explain to him what had happened. You stopped walking and with that Jaskier stopped in place as well “Jaskier.. I have to tell you something. I-” The snapping of twigs snapped your attention to your left, and you drew a sharp breath when you recognised the person walking to you.

[themisadventuresofmomtiri]

Here we go, Part 2 of the Tangled Sibling AU! I actually cut this in half because it was proving to be way longer than anticipated, but the good news is I should be able to get the next part up yet this week! Enjoy~!

It took a second for the words to sink in before Rowena and Quirin bolted for the wagon door. Kiera jumped off the steps, making way for them to enter. The thee sisters shared a look before running in after their parents.

Literally nothing had changed about the interior of the wagon since Rapunzel had left it merely an hour ago, but somehow the air felt more oppressive, thick with a tension that was ready to snap at any moment. Ruddiger chittered, wringing his little hands nervously as Rowena and Quirin reached their son’s side.

“He’s burning up,” she said, worry thick in her voice.

“Rapunzel, can’t you heal him,” Catalina asked, voice barely above a whisper.

If it were Dad or Kiera, Rapunzel wouldn’t hesitate. She’d managed to successfully heal them from colds and other ills in the past. Kiera always came down with a cold at least once a winter, and Catalina usually got sick for a week or two come spring and fall if she spent time outside--- for some reason, Rapunzel’s healing magic was only ever a short-term fix for Catalina. Mom’s working theory was that it was the pollen in the air making her miserable, and it wasn’t like Rapunzel could cleanse the air of the little irritants, so Catalina had taken to spending most of the fall and spring in the wagon until Mom could get a hold of the ingredients needed to make the only medicine that seemed to offer her any relief. Dad would get sick sometimes, though it was rare and tended to come after Kiera recovered from her cold if it came at all. Mom never got sick, but that was probably because she wasn’t human so mortal ills likely didn’t affect her.

Varian and Rapunzel, however, had never caught so much as a sniffle in their lives.

And unlike Kiera and Catalina, Varian had a lot of magic. Rapunzel had been able to handle cuts and scraps in the past, but it took a lot of effort and Varian needed to be able to help her out.

Instead of answering, Rapunzel swallowed hard and stepped forward. She undid her barrettes, letting her golden hair fall loose around her shoulders. 

“Mom? Dad? Do you think maybe I could…” she trailed off, holding up a thick lock of her hair as a visual cue.

“Rapunzel, I don’t know if---”

“Row, we have to let her try,” Quirin cut in, somehow managing to keep his voice level.

“What if she gets sick, too,” Rowena worried. If there was an illness that could take Varian down, it wasn’t too much of a leap to think it might get Rapunzel, too.

“We have to try.”

Rowena bit her lip, but nodded, moving a bit to give Rapunzel room to join them.

Varian looked terrible. He was paler than usual, almost ashy, and it looked like he was soaked in sweat. Rapunzel radiated heat like the sun---a comparison Kiera had made once and refused to let go of the second she realized the pun---and sure, six people sleeping in the same area meant for a lot of body heat (a godsend come the winter), but the nights were still fairly cold this time of year. There was no reason for Varian to be sweating so much. And his breathing…it was shallow and fast. He’d been perfectly fine last night.

She carefully placed her hair around him, deciding not to wrap it around him because the idea of jostling him and accidentally doing more harm than good terrified her. With any luck, this would do the trick and Varian would be back to normal. Rapunzel took a deep breath and started singing.

“Flower, gleam and glow; let your power shine.”

The faint tingle that was constantly humming under her skin grew stronger, concentrating in her scalp as it poured into her hair, the strands lighting up with the sun’s magic.

“Make the clock reverse; bring back what once was---”

Rapunzel always sang with her eyes closed; when they were little, Varian had noticed and asked her why. When he’d convinced her to sing without closing her eyes, they discovered that her hair wasn’t the only thing that glowed. Which explained why her eyes always burned a little anytime she used her magic. But since her eyes were closed, Rapunzel wasn’t able to notice certain things.

She wasn’t able to notice Varian’s hair suddenly glowing the strongest it ever had outside of him using his magic during a full super moon. And, since it happened so fast, neither Quirin nor Rowena were able to warn her in time. The resulting surge of power sent her flying back wards, snapping her out of the healing trance. The glow disappeared as soon as Rapunzel stopped singing, which was probably for the best.

“Rapunzel!”

She held her head, wincing as she recovered from the shock. Dad’s callous-rough hand gripped her arm and slipped behind her back to help her regain her footing.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she assured. “Is Varian---” Rapunzel caught sight of her brother and sucked in a breath.

He was still glowing, but it was violent, wildly inconsistent, and he looked as if it were causing him pain. Mom pulled him up to her shoulder, holding him tight and muttering under her breath. The longer she murmured, the more the glowing began to slow and smooth out, until finally it was a dull pulsing sort.

“I’m sorry---”

“Rapunzel, you have nothing to be sorry about,” Rowena replied. “Quirin, get Rapunzel and Catalina outside now. Kiera, come and help me with your brother.”

“Mom, what’s wrong with Varian,” Catalina asked, putting up a token fight as Quirin ushered them both towards the door.

“Just stay with your father,” Rowena ordered.

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

Kiera stumbled out of the wagon nearly an hour later, trembling from a combination of shock and the effort it took to not completely fall to pieces.

“Mom said she needs you,” she said, voice wavering a little.

“Go sit and get something to eat,” Quirin told her, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Kiera just nodded, moving forward to join her sisters at the fire pit.

“How is he,” Rapunzel asked.

“He’s…not good. Mom doesn’t think it’s catchy, but…I know there’s more to it than that and she just didn’t tell me.”

Kiera dropped onto the ground, propped up against the log they’d commandeered for a bench when they first set up camp and next to where Catalina was seated. The redhead gently patted her sister’s head, setting up a soft stroking motion that had been known to soothe Kiera when she got agitated.

“I don’t get it,” she continued, curling up into Catalina’s touch. “He was just fine yesterday!”

“Maybe he wasn’t,” Catalina pointed out. “After all, the full moon was only a couple of days ago. If something was wrong, it probably wouldn’t have shown up until that extra energy started to go away. Remember two years ago after the winter solstice? Varian had to stay in bed for a whole week because he got that concussion and didn’t notice until after the full moon wore off.”

“Yeah, but he still woke up,” Kiera retorted. “I couldn’t even get him to twitch.”

There was a vulnerability in her voice that Kiera rarely ever let show. She’d always been the sort of person who liked to put up a strong and independent front, unfazed by anything and ready for everything. But underneath all the bluff and bluster, she was still just a kid. Her nineth birthday was still months away. And she’d already lost her family once; no doubt the idea of Varian being so sick terrified the heck out of her.

“Varian is going to be just fine,” Rapunzel assured her, joining her on the grass and putting an arm around her. “You’ll see. He’ll beat this bug and be right back to his old self in no time.”

“What if he doesn’t get better before the new moon gets here,” Kiera murmured. “New moons have been making him weaker lately. He acts like they don’t, but I’m not stupid.”

Rapunzel winced. The constant shifts in his energy levels had been hitting him harder than they used to, but Mom had said that was likely just a side-effect of Varian entering puberty and that it should stabilize as he got older. Not that the assurance made it any less worrying at this point. Before she could think of any platitudes to offer, the sound of the wagon creaking caught their attention, and the girls turned to see their parents stepping out into the daylight.

“Is he okay,” Rapunzel asked, immediately standing back up.

“For the moment, he’s about as okay as can be expected,” Rowena replied, sounding absolutely exhausted. “We’ll have to keep an eye on his condition, but things seem to have calmed for a bit.”

“Do you know what’s wrong?”

“Whatever he’s managed to catch, it’s interacting with the Moon’s power.” Rowena took a seat on the log, undoing her bun in order to tidy it back up. “Whether it’s for better or worse, I can’t say just yet. That being said, considering the reaction we witnessed, Rapunzel, I want you to keep your distance until I can figure out exactly what’s going on. Hopefully, this is just an aggressive illness that’s as short-lived as a cold.”

“And if it’s not,” Catalina asked, voice small and quiet.

Rowena took a deep breath. “If it’s not…well, we may have to bind his magic.”  

[ghostprincess]

Sweet Things, Ch. 5 (Mysterio x Reader)

Summary: (This is the final chapter!) Mysterio kidnaps Y/N Parker as leverage against Peter, as well as because he has taken a liking to her. But the longer she stays with him, the more twisted her reality becomes, until it’s nothing but him. Will Peter be able to save her before it’s too late? Dark!fic, Stockholm Syndrome, dub-con, etc.

Warnings: (first and foremost there are scenes that could be interpreted as self harm so trigger warning), ffh spoilers, some sexual content but nothing graphic, emotional distress, blood, violence, mysterio’s just a mess

I lay still on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as I waited for my body to recover. 

What just happened?

It all felt like a fever dream. 

Maybe it was an illusion, I thought. Or maybe it was just a dream, there’s no way he would ever do that, right? 

The shock began to wear away eventually, the pain shooting through my body confirming that it was, in fact, real. It really happened. 

I’m gonna be sick.

I got up and stumbled into the bathroom, falling down to my knees over the toilet just as I began to heave. The lack of food in my body made itself known when the only substances I threw up were bile and vodka, and when the heaving stopped, I somehow felt even worse than before. 

I flushed the toilet and pushed myself off the ground, looking up into the mirror at my naked body. My neck was mottled with red and purple, hickeys and bite marks splotched around like paint on a canvas. My chest had a few red marks and my hips had hand-shaped bruises forming on top of them. The gauze that had once covered my wrists was wrinkled and beginning to peel off from Quentin’s manhandling. 

I ripped the bandages off in anger, throwing the bloodied gauze to the ground. Looking down, I noticed the tears in my skin that had begun to scab over were now torn wide open, the once yellowing bruises now an angry hue of violet.

I heaved again when I finally noticed the dried white substance stained on my thighs and between my legs, tears gathering in my eyes. I collapsed in front of the toilet and threw up again as the weight of what I’d just done hit me. 

I did it willingly. Why didn’t I stop him? 

You love him, a voice whispered deep within my subconscious.

The memories of his hands around my throat and his lips on mine wouldn’t leave and my conflicted feelings were at war. I sobbed into my hands.

Minutes that felt like hours passed, and once I calmed down a bit, I pushed myself up and walked over to the shower. The porcelain of the bathtub was still damp from the bath Quentin had given me earlier, and I shuddered at the memory. I imagined him helping me into the shower, his arms around me under the warm water and holding me close as I cried into his shoulder—

I shook my head, snapping out of the fantasy. He was the one who made me feel this way, so why would I ever want to go to him for comfort? The knowledge that something was very wrong with me ate at the back of my mind but I ignored it in favor of getting clean.

I turned the water on and stepped into the spray, hugging myself. The cold water stung like needles piercing my skin but it grounded me. 

I grabbed the bar of soap from the ledge and began to scrub myself relentlessly. I focused particularly between my legs and on my thighs, and sobbed as I cleaned the evidence from my skin. I felt dirty and used, but even the soap couldn’t make me feel clean.

I ran the soap over my arms, nearly screaming as my wrist wounds were cleaned out. The stinging, stabbing pain was worse than anything I’d felt so far and I nearly passed out when blood began to pour from them once again. 

Too much. Too much blood.

I quickly turned the shower off and scrambled to the cold floor outside, haphazardly wrapping a towel around myself as I opened the cabinet beneath the sink. 

I rummaged around, feeling for any medical supplies, and finally found Quentin’s first aid kit, pulling it out. My head spun from a mixture of seeing my own blood and my ever-present hangover, and I nearly fell over again.

I grabbed the first thing I saw— ace bandages— and wrapped one around each of my wrists tightly. The fabric was stained with my bloody fingerprints and I knew I had not treated the wounds correctly, but I couldn’t bring myself to care as I sobbed on the cold, wet bathroom floor. 

———

The sound of the bedroom door opening pulled me out of the haze I was in and I barely had time to pull the towel over my body before Quentin walked into the bathroom, his eyes scanning the room quickly. I closed my eyes as he walked over and kneeled in front of me.

“Aw, baby, what happened?” He asked apologetically, and I shuddered. How could he sound so genuine?

“You made a mess, honey,” he continued, and I flinched.

“I— I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to,” I squeaked, finally meeting his gaze, and he grinned. 

“Let me help you,” he said, in the same tone as before, and I broke, clinging onto him and sobbing as if he were some sort of savior. 

He made no move to reciprocate besides sliding his arms underneath me and carrying me bridal style into the bedroom. He sat me down on the bed but my trembling arms were locked around him.

“It’s okay. It’ll all be over soon,” he soothed, and I felt my stomach drop.

“W-what will?” I asked, leaning back and looking at him. He sighed.

“We’re doing an attack on London, and then I won’t have to do as much convincing to prove to the world that I’m the hero.”

“Attack? You’re not gonna k-kill anyone, right?” My teeth chattered from the cold and Quentin seemed sadistically appreciative of my discomfort, twirling a strand of my hair again.

“There’ll be lots of casualties, but more casualties means more coverage.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, and I felt my lips responding, my eyes closing, until he pulled away with a maniacal grin. “Maybe I’ll even let you watch.” 

My stomach felt like it was doing somersaults as I stared at him, contemplating what he had just said. 

I could play along and escape, tell Fury what happened, get Beck locked up. 

But I could just stay here, where I don’t have to worry about anything.

I could rebuild some semblance of a normal life, get my job back, pursue my dreams of becoming—

I don’t want to leave him, I could never do that to him—

“When is it?” I asked. 

———

“Don’t make them too tight. I don’t need anyone seeing cuff marks on her hands after I save her,” Quentin called, his back turned to me as he fiddled with the screen mounted on his left arm. 

It had been two weeks since he had told me about the plan, and I was unbearably, unbelievably tired. My body was sore from Quentin’s affinity for manhandling me, his hands bruised into my hips and neck.

“These are just for precaution, okay?” The man with glasses said apologetically as he clicked a handcuff around my right wrist. I nodded solemnly and he attached the other handcuff to the metal railing. I was sitting on the ground, my back against the wall inside some large overpass structure, overlooking the city. We were in London, I knew that much, and Quentin was stationed in there with me, dressed in a black and grey motion-capture suit and donning a half-helmet that resembled Mysterio’s.

“William, she’s fine, get to your position,” Quentin said impatiently, and the man nodded quickly, disappearing through a door. 

“Just think about it. I’ll be a hero, Y/N. And you’ll be the tortured soul who I healed, the damsel in distress who I saved. It’s so tragic that you lost your family to the Elementals, but think about it! How much better can a story get? I saved you from your own self-destruction, avenged your family for you, and now we’re in love.” He looked at me and smirked, and my stomach twisted. I shakily smiled back.

“You’ll be the best, Quentin,” I said, and he laughed, kneeling down next to me. 

“If you’re good, when this ends, I’ll fuck you good and hard, would you like that?” He murmured, and I whimpered, nodding. I really did want him, didn’t I? Fuck. 

I tried to convince myself that I was just playing along, but it didn’t feel true. My escape plans were slowly dwindling away from my mind as I imagined the life I could have with him.

I had nothing left, what else was there to lose? Could I be selfish just this once and give in to my desire to feel some sort of love? After all, the world had caused both Quentin and I so much pain, the world had killed my family and most of the Avengers, so why should I care what destruction Mysterio would bring to it…?

Focus, Y/N. When he turns, start trying to loosen the cuff. 

Quentin stood up and walked a few feet away, turning his back to me as he began to tap at his armband again.

“Cue lightning,” he said into his earpiece, and a huge bolt struck, shaking the ground. 

I started to twist and wiggle my hand, hoping to loosen the handcuff enough to slip my hand out. He’d be too busy to bother watching me while he orchestrated the attack, and I could slip away, run to safety before he even noticed I was missing.

The handcuff slipped a bit, loosening by a notch, but luckily Quentin spoke again, drowning out the small metallic click.

“Now that is an Avengers-level threat,” he said in awe. A loud roar sounded from outside and I could only see out the tops of the windows, where a large black sky was swirling with lightning, fire, and sand.

BOOM.

Another bolt of lightning struck and I flinched, momentarily reminded of the sound of Peter being shot, falling to the ground…

I need to get out of here. 

I tugged at the handcuff a little more frantically as Quentin’s demeanor unhinged more and more.

“I have drones breaking formation,” he suddenly exclaimed, seeming worried. 

Please, please have the drones fail, or an Avenger stop him, please…

“I’m gonna take a look inside, just to be sure,” he said, then began to swipe on the screen casually, staying calm— he went rigid, staring in anger at the screen, then looking up to glare at the monster.

“Yeah. And I’m gonna kill him,” he said to whoever was on the earpiece, and I craned my neck, trying to get a good look at the screen.

“What’s wrong?” I asked tentatively as he nearly shook with rage. Quentin turned around and opened his mouth to reply, but stopped himself, looking back down to swipe at his screen.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I—I’m handling it,” he stammered. 

He’d never acted like that before, so what had happened that he couldn’t even tell me? Me, who would probably never see the light of day again after his public “rescue” of me, who could tell no one?

After a few minutes of pacing and tapping at his screen, he became frantic, turning to me with wild eyes and walking over to kneel in front of me.

“Change of plans. I’ll wake you up when it’s over,” he said, pulling a syringe out of a holster on his belt. Before I could protest, he stabbed the needle painfully into the left side of my neck, beginning to inject me with the same drug he had used before, and the world seemed to spin in slow motion. 

A flash of red and black caught my eye, and I heard the sound of glass shattering as I closed my eyes. The needle was ripped from my neck and I heard the syringe clatter to the ground next to me as I whimpered in pain. I opened my eyes to look down at it; he had only managed to inject half the contents into my bloodstream. 

“Show’s over, Beck!” A similar voice called out, and my heart sank. 

Peter.

Quentin had given me just enough sedative to make me hallucinate, apparently, and I closed my eyes as my heartbreak began to surface once again. 

“This certainly isn’t ideal, but I have contingencies,” Quentin said to someone snarkily. A few more crashing sounds broke through the air and I winced, trying to pull myself away from the noise, but something around my wrist was holding me back, and I couldn’t even cover my ears—

“Stop, too loud,” I slurred lazily, wincing as another crash shook my eardrums. 

“Y/N?” Peter’s voice called out, just like before, he’s gonna die, I screamed and curled into a ball, no more, no more, Quentin please stop—

“What did you do to her?” Peter’s voice cracked as he roared in anger, that was new, is this a new projection, please don’t die this time, and the sounds of fighting rang out once again. 

I drowned the noise out, closing my eyes as sleep pulled at my mind, the stupid fucking drug…

The next thing I heard was loud gunfire, right in front of me, and I jerked up, wide awake. The drones were all in a formation, projecting something as Quentin watched in anger, but the projections concealed whoever he was fighting. 

I looked up at the cuff around my wrist, then began to rip the gauze out from underneath it, exposing the scabbed and stitched wounds from previously, now’s my chance.

I shakily picked up the syringe that had fallen next to me and gritted my teeth, then started to hack painfully at the stitches with the needle.

If I bled enough, I could slip my hand out and run.

The pain was excruciating and I tried to ignore the thought of how ugly the scars would be from repeatedly injuring myself as I mutilated my own body. 

Finally, finally, blood began to drop steadily down my hand and arm; I cried in pain at the stabbing agony, but the blood was working, my hand was slipping out. 

With one final tug, I yanked my hand out of the handcuff, letting out a sob of relief. 

“FIRE ALL THE DRONES NOW!” Quentin suddenly screamed.

He looked up at me in shock and anger, walking quickly towards me, and I whimpered in fear, please don’t hurt me—

A final loud crash and the sound gunfire began again, causing me to flinch and cover my ears. Quentin suddenly screamed and I looked up just as a huge blow ripped into my stomach, slamming me back against the wall. It felt like a punch to the gut, but as I looked down, I saw the red soaking my shirt, then felt the pain. 

I’d been shot, and instead of panicking, a part of me felt relieved at the idea of not having to deal with the pain anymore.

I collapsed to the ground on my side and looked up at the scene before me. All the projections were gone from the drones, Quentin lay collapsed on the ground, and— Peter?

I didn’t realize I had spoken until his head whipped towards me and he scrambled to help me up, tears pouring down his face. 

“Y/N,” he sobbed, pulling me into a tight embrace, and I lethargically rested my head on his shoulder. Is this Heaven? Is he here to reunite with me and lead me into the afterlife?

Please be real, I thought, and closed my eyes in acceptance.

“I trusted you, Beck, and you lied to me,” Peter said, turning away. He rested me down on the ground again and I opened my eyes as he walked towards Quentin angrily.

“I- I know. That’s the most disappointing p-part,” Quentin replied. 

He was covered in blood, clutching his stomach, and I felt my heart drop as I realized what had happened to him.

Tears blurred my vision and I struggled to wipe them away, but suddenly a loud BANG sounded. 

Peter was holding Quentin by the wrist, a gun pointing up to the ceiling, and the gun clattered to the ground unceremoniously. Peter ripped the glasses off of Quentin’s face and began to speak, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Quentin. 

His face contorted in agony and we made eye contact, his eyes softening as he scanned my body and realized what had happened.

Neither of us spoke, just stared at each other in an eerie silence, punctuated by Peter’s frantic yelling as he tried to take back control of the AI. 

“Y/N? Y/N, wake up, are you with me?” Peter said, suddenly kneeling over me, tears pouring down his face. I rolled my eyes up to look at his face and smiled weakly at his attempts to put pressure on my wound.

“I’m ready now,” I said. “I missed you.”

“W-what? You’re ready for what? Y/N?” He screamed, shaking me back and forth. I closed my eyes and slipped into nothingness, and felt no pain. 

———

A bright light was shining through my eyelids and I groaned, lifting my arm to cover my eyes.

The window in Quentin’s room was directly in the path of morning sunlight, and after waking up to it for two weeks, I’d had enough. 

“Y/N?” A voice called beside me, and I jumped, my eyes shooting open. 

I wasn’t in Quentin’s dull, grey room; this room was all white, a steady beeping noise sounding from behind me, a blue curtain to my right, Peter to my left.

“P-Peter?” I whimpered, and the beeping noise began to become more frantic as my heart rate spiked. “You’re alive?” I gasped, tears pouring uncontrollably from my eyes, and I reached out for him. He immediately reached back and I pulled him into my embrace, ignoring the pain in my abdomen as I hugged him tightly and sobbed. 

I ran my fingers repeatedly through his hair, he’s real, he’s really here, I can feel him.

The rest of the day consisted of Peter catching me up on everything that had happened while I was held in captivity. He’d finally started dating MJ, May and Happy were dating, Peter was alive.

I couldn’t contain my joy until Peter told me what had happened on the bridge.

“He- he’s not dead.” I shook my head frantically, feeling panic creep up my spine.

“Y/N, don’t worry, okay? He is. I asked EDITH—“

“Y-you don’t know what he can do,” I gasped, becoming hysterical. “He faked it, Peter, he’s not dead.” 

Two nurses came running in as the heart monitor began to beep frantically, one trying to hold Peter back and talk to him while the other fiddled with my IV to sedate me. 

“Don’t believe what he makes you see,” I said, and then the drugs pulled me under.

[moodymidnightkitten]

Blueberry: The Ending

A/N: I’ve been writing this series on and off since May 2020, and it has surely become one of my favorites, one that cannot be compared to really anything else I’ve written, which is a lot for me to say. I cried the night after I wrote this, I didn’t want to end this, but I felt like I kept reaching for things to keep it going but I knew I couldn’t. So I’m hoping there is at least one other person who feels the same towards this series. But for everyone who binge read this series, welcome! 

w/c:1840

Pairing: Tenko Shimura/ Tomura Shigaraki x reader 

Genre: Angst -> a holy amount of fluff 

Click this for my masterlist!

You sat there as Tenko talked for what felt like hours. But it seemed the more he talked the more your mind lagged trying to keep up with everything he was telling you. Your eyes were blank, at some point you stopped hearing what he was saying and could only hear your own thoughts running in your mind. “Does this really change anything?” You thought to yourself. 

“Are you okay, y/n?” you heard a muffled voice next to you, and then felt a hand on your arm. 

“Y/n?” You shook your head a bit to bring yourself down to this reality and look at Tenko who had his eyes on you attentively. For a major villain like him to look at you as though he was concerned how you felt over him pulled at the few heart strings to spare in this situation. 

“Hmm? I’m okay given the position I’m in, if that makes you feel better.” You said looking up at the ceiling. 

“It’s difficult processing everything, I’m laying next to a massive villain sitting by my side, I even invited you into my house, did you not tell me because you’re afraid? Or did you have enough cockiness to convince yourself I would never find out?” You spit out, more aggressively than you meant to. 

“I understand, but please, do try and think about it, you’ve got some time before you should go anywhere anyways,” he brushed your hair back on your head and looked into your eyes. You could see concern and worry paint his eyes. It made you feel worse. 

“I will, I promise, pinky promise even,” you said holding your hand up, pinky out, so he wrapped his with yours and you could see a small smile form onto his face. He got up from his seat after a few seconds of silence, kissed your forehead and left the room. Leaving you with silence and the sunlight peering in on a day coming to an end. 

After a while your stomach rumbled, god, when was the last time you even ate. You slowly got up, putting your hand on your healing wound as you stood up, getting used to the numbing pain in your side, opening the door you couldn’t see anyone but you could hear talking down the hall from an illuminated room, it sounded as though there were about three or four voices enjoying conversation. You were a tad scared to be in a new place with really only somewhat knowing two people, but if they wanted to harm you, they would’ve already. But from what Tenko has informed you, they dared not even try due to repercussions on his end. 

You looked around, darting your eyes to every corner of the room to get a feel for who was around you. On the couch laid ‘Burn ward’ and sitting at a bar stool, twirling a knife under her finger was a blonde girl you’ve yet to meet, standing behind the bar is a black cloud looking man, odd, but okay and the last person you spot is a man in a black and white, skin tight suit sitting next to the blonde girl. 

“Oh y/n, I was wondering when you’d come out of your cell,” joked burn ward from the couch, being the first person to take note of your presence in the room. And the next thing you knew, all eyes were now on you. 

“Haha, yeah, u-uhm I don’t think I ever really got anyone's names..” You said shyly. looking around at everyone. Burn ward was again the first person to respond. 

“My name is Dabi, over there is Twice, in the suit, the blonde freak is Toga and the cloud man is Kurogiri.” He said waving his arm to his fellow compatriots. You waved at everyone, but could see Toga beaming a smile in your direction, in a flash running over to you. 

“Are you okay y’n??” She asked, voice full of genuine concern, circling you, making sure for herself, from what she could see, that you were fine. 

“Thank you Toga, but I’m okay, just hungry, I feel as though I haven’t eaten in awhile, so I was wondering if there were any of my things around, I think I’m feeling fine enough to go home,” you said quietly, you weren’t fine enough for the journey but the space away from here would be best. You winced as you gave out a fake chuckle, causing your side to burn but you just grinned and beared it for the time being. Kurogiri looked towards you, putting down the glass he was cleaning. 

“Yes, we have your things, but are you sure you’re fine enough to get yourself home, would you like Shigaraki to accompany you, this, to say, is not the best neighborhood,” he said, pulling a box from behind the counter. 

“That’s a lot to say, but I appreciate it, I should be fine,” you said walking over and grabbing your things. 

“Here, I’ll join you,” Dabi said, dramatically rolling himself off the couch he was just residing.

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that-” before you could say anything else Dabi already grabbed the rest of your things and was walking towards the exit. In which you followed suit after saying goodbye and thanking everyone for their hospitality. 

You were half way down the street when Dabi started a conversation with you. 

“So, does Crusty know you made the decision to leave?” he asked. 

“No, I was just hoping to get some space to genuinely just think, I really would enjoy venting but I don’t know your relationship with him, so I’m afraid of what to say,” you said, looking to him and looking back down at the ground. 

“We’re not friends, if that's what you’re thinking y/n,” 

“Well that’s good to know, then would you say I could talk to you, because after this conversation, I don’t imagine I’ll find myself able to really have this conversation with anyone else,” you looked at him, the pain from the reality to the physical pain you feel had tears swelling in your eyes. Dabi just nodded at you, taking the rest of your things as you began to just let everything out. And it was nice, but you felt like such a hypocrite for not being open with Tenko but being open with another villain. But you only really felt this way because Dabi never hid who he was to you. But you also never really got the chance with him like you did Tenko. 

Before you knew it you were in front of the doors of the pharmacy, Dabi looked at you confused for a moment but then his confusion was answered when you explained that you live above the pharmacy. 

“Would you like me to stay the night in case he comes over in a rage?” Dabi asked sincerely, and honestly at this point that was probably for the best, you would most certainly feel better sleeping having someone here who knew Tenko more than you did. 

“Honestly, I really would appreciate that, just in case he’s mad I left without him knowing,” you gave a small smile to him and you two both walked in and into your apartment. 

“Are you hungry? Do you need a shower at all? I can cook while you shower, because no offense, you look like you could use one,” you said, over the course of the whole walk you’ve become comfortable with Dabi, like you’ve been friends for a long time. 

“Hey I even have some mens clothes you can use, which I only have because they are baggy and comfortable!” you didn’t need to explain yourself but it got you a chuckle from Dabi. 

“Ugh, that would be great,” he exclaimed. So after carefully pulling out ingredients you two walked into your room as you threw him sweats and a tee, eventually leading him to the bathroom. 

“I’m going to make ramen, enjoy your shower!” you said leaving him at the bathroom and walking back to the kitchen. 

The rest of the night was really nice, it was as if nothing bad happened over the course of the past couple of days, but you were on edge for most of the night, but nothing came, Tenko didn’t come, he didn’t even text you. 

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” you said, yawning, getting up from the couch where you sat next to Dabi. 

“Alrighty, sweet dreams dollface, see you in the morning!” He yelled to you as you walked into your room and shut the door. 

You woke up to the smell of breakfast, and it smelled absolutely wonderful. What you didn’t expect though was to find Tenko, who you struggled to fall asleep over last night, but not because you were scared, but because you began to miss the man you’ve come to adore so much. He was cooking breakfast as Dabi laid on the couch watching TV quietly. 

“Tenko…” you said quietly. Right then he turned around to look at you, and you could just see it in his eyes, the way they sparkled with excitement and were a bit puffy, as though he was crying? Which was only questionable because he didn’t seem to be the type to cry over trivial matters given the fact that he’s the leader of the League of Villains. 

“Y/n…” he said, carefully turning down the stove and putting the spatula on the counter, slowly making his way over to you and when he did he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you with such a passion you never knew existed. 

“I was absolutely sick to my stomach last night after hearing that you left, and I wanted to chase after you, especially knowing Burn Ward helped you home, but at least I knew you were safe...I’m even sorry I’m here now, and i know we’re still getting to know each other, but you being gone solidified everything I’ve been thinking about you-” his voice cracked with emotion. 

“I like you y/n, and I know I’m this big and bad evil guy but I want you..” he continued on, holding you as tight as he could, you could feel tears well up in your eyes again. 

“Tenko, I like you too, I lost sleep all night last night thinking about everything and I don’t want to lose this, lose you..” you kissed him, eventually putting your foreheads together and just standing there basking in the smell of breakfast and the feel of the morning sun, completely forgetting Dabi on the couch. 

“I know, everything I do is dangerous, but I know having you around I’ll be able to keep you genuinely safe now that you know everything, so please, stay with me…?” He asked, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. 

“Tenko, I promise-” you said holding out your pinky,

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be..”

[shytalia]

A Prince and a Pirate’s Fate - Chapter 12

— ♠ — ♠ — ♠ —

Chapter Twelve

Start at Chapter one here:https://shytalia.tumblr.com/post/611878754309079040/a-prince-and-a-pirates-fate-usuk-fanfic

Also available on my AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shytalia

— ♠ — ♠ — ♠ —

The next day, they left The King’s Grave and set sail into the open seas once more.

Alfred had been given the rest of the day to rest up but given he was as stubborn as he was, he grew restless. Instead, he decided to check on Peter and was thrilled to see the smaller Brit sitting up in bed. In fact, he even looked like he was already healing fairly quickly. He assumed Arthur’s spell really worked wonders.

He greeted the boy and sat beside his bed in the empty chair, glad to see that Peter was excited to see him too. Well, since they both had been given orders to rest and heal up, Alfred saw no point in having to do so separately.

“Here, I’ll show you how to play that card game like I promised.” The Prince smiled at the excited way Peter cheered as he brought out the cards.

--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

The next few days went rather well, all things considered. Alfred wasn’t healing as fast as Peter was since Arthur couldn’t perform the spell on him like he could his brother. But, the Brit’s efforts to help him sped up the process incredibly anyway.

Arthur was more or less acting like his usual self, never bringing up anything that had happened at the harbor. Alfred wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. After all, even if he was told not to develop feelings, he yearned to hold Arthur close to him. He would, he told himself, one day he would convince Arthur to be his. Not because of some mark, but because he could feel himself falling hard for the captain. He just wanted Arthur to feel the same.

For now, he would enjoy the small interactions he got with the grumpy Brit.

“Did you hear?” A crew member said within earshot. Alfred pulled at some ropes and tightened the ends as he eavesdropped, not very interested but it was hard not to when the men were so close. “Apparently the Spade prince has gone missing.”

Alfred froze.

“Missing?” The other man said.

“Yes. There’s no word on a ransom yet. You think he finally got offed?”

The two men laughed darkly, but Alfred was doing anything but. Cool sweat dripped down his brow but thankfully he had been sweating before so it was easy to mask.

“I hope not. Think of the money we would get returning the brat back to mommy and daddy.” They laughed more. “Or...I rather think Captain Kirkland would love to get his hands on him. That would be fun to watch, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t want to be the prince if Captain got a hold of me, that’s for sure.”

Alfred felt his stomach twist and fought the urge to puke. He should’ve realized that sooner or later his disappearance would become gossip throughout all the kingdoms. It wasn’t exactly every day a prince up and vanishes for weeks on end, after all.

“Hey! Stop idling and get back to work!” Gilbert yelled across the dock, causing the two gossiping crew mates to flinch and quickly return to their duties. “And you,”

Alfred flinched when he realized those red eyes were on him. They lingered on him uncomfortably and the prince could only wonder what the albino was thinking as he stared. Finally, the tension was broken when the other man opened his mouth for more orders.

“Just ‘cause you’re The Captain’s pet doesn’t mean you get to slack off either. Hurry the hell up!” The albino man barked, his thoughtful gaze replaced by a more stern one. Alfred quickly did as he was told.

Nearly an hour later, Lukas stalked onto the deck and quietly stood beside the commanding pirate.

“Gilbert.” He greeted lowly, though his gaze focused elsewhere. “I apologize for the interference, but I will be taking Alfred for just a short while.”

“Huh? What are you talking about now? He’s got work to do, Captain’s orders that he makes himself useful with the others unless he needs him.” Gilbert frowned.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be long. If The Captain asks, refer him to me. I assure you, I’ll take all the blame.” Lukas replied easily, noticing the look of thought crossing the other man’s face.

“Mn...I guess. But only ‘cause you helped us get The Captain back.” He settled, nodding for the Norwegian to take Alfred. He didn’t bother asking what he was needed for, it was no doubt some sort of ‘divine bidding’. Normally Gilbert would scoff at it, but having the religious figure around did sometimes help the morale of the crew. Who knew having a neutral party to spill all your sins out to could help a bunch of misfits?

“Thank you.” Was the basic reply before Lukas moved forward, walking quietly towards the sweating teen as he moved a heavy crate. “Alfred,”

“Gods!” Said man turned around with startled, wide eyes. He hadn’t even heard the other blonde come up behind him. “Oh man, it’s just you. Lukas, isn’t it? What’s up?”

“Follow me, I wish to talk to you for a bit. It’s alright, I’ve already spoken to Gilbert.” Lukas waved his hand in a welcoming motion before turning around and leading the way below the deck.

Alfred was hesitant to follow but a quick glance in the albino’s direction, and the nod he received from him, allowed his feet to move and follow. He trailed behind the shorter blonde curiously until they came to a small room covered in idols and trinkets. There were symbols of the gods all around and even a small statue of the goddess on a table. She was surrounded with candles and incense, obviously meant to replicate an actual temple and altar. For being on a pirate ship, Alfred had to give it some credit as it really wasn't half bad.

“So...what did you need to talk to me about?” He couldn’t help the edge in his voice. He was nervous, unsure about what Lukas could possibly want from him. He had never spoken to him before, after all, so why now all of a sudden?

Instead of answering, the Norwegian closed the door and motioned for his guest to sit in one of the chairs by a small table.

“There’s no need to be so nervous,” Lukas told him. “You’re Arthur’s now, so no one on this ship will harm you.” Not unless the British captain wanted them to, of course. But, he’d leave that part out. So far, their leader had shown no signs of wanting that. “Gilbert was rough on you today, please relax. Here, have some tea.”

A cup was placed in front of Alfred and steaming liquid poured into it. Alfred wasn’t the biggest fan of tea, but he did learn that Arthur absolutely adored the stuff. Plus, he guessed he shouldn’t be too picky considering what they had was limited until they reached their next port.

“Thanks. Yeah, Gilbert can be kind of an ass.” He said it before he could think better of it and bit his lip, hoping he wouldn’t be ratted out.

“Gilbert isn’t as bad as he seems.” Lukas countered quietly. “He is in a position of authority, after all. His job is to ensure the work is done and done well. But he is a nice enough man at the end of the day, the two of you may even get along rather well.” The shorter man took his place in the chair opposite of Alfred, sitting down and sipping his own drink.

The prince snorted at that. “Yeah, sure.”

“He’s much like Arthur in that aspect. You enjoy The Captain’s company, do you not?”

Alfred nearly spat out his tea at that. “H-Huh? Oh, well, I mean--” He stammered. He did enjoy being around Arthur, more than he probably should considering he was a pirate. This whole mission of his wasn’t just about convincing him to come back to the castle with him anymore. No, now it was even more. Alfred wanted Arthur to be happy and safe. He wanted to love him and for the Brit to love him back. “Yes, I do.” He croaked out.

“I thought so,” Lukas said evenly, as if the man across from him wasn’t a confused mess of nerves and emotions.

The silence between them was stale for a while. Lukas made no more efforts to make conversation and Alfred was swimming in his thoughts.

Was it really that obvious that he liked Arthur? Of course to the captain it would be more obvious, but they had so many moments in private together that would make it clear. But what about the other crew members? Did they know? They must, if Lukas did. Though the man was more observant than the others.

Maybe Arthur had told him? The two talked like good friends would, it wouldn’t be a leap in logic to think that he had simply been gossiped about. If that was the case...what had Arthur said? Had he made fun of him for his feelings? Did he confess some sort of attraction as well?

Alfred was nearly ready to explode from all these different scenarios playing through his head that he didn’t notice Lukas staring at him until he spoke.

“Arthur still doesn’t know who you are, does he?”

“What?” Alfred was snapped from his thoughts and his eyes met with Lukas’s.

“Excuse me for being blunt, your majesty.”

The Norwegian’s words chilled the prince to his bones. A rush of panic and fear washed over him like the tides, crashing into him and knocking the wind from his lungs. He had no time to recover before the other man continued.

“You’ve done very well to hide your mark from him for this long. But tell me, what is your plan when he does find out?”

Alfred’s throat went dry. Lukas knew who he was. Lukas knew and he could tell everyone, he could tell Arthur! How long had he known? Why hadn’t he told them yet?

“Please...don’t tell him.” Alfred’s voice was so quiet it was barely even a whisper.

Lukas seemed to ponder the words for a moment and nodded. “I haven’t told him yet, have I? But I suggest you figure out what you’re going to do when he does find out.” He told him pointedly. “Do not make it hurt worse for him than it already will.”

“I-I don’t want to hurt him!” Alfred exclaimed quickly. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Arthur. “H-He’s...he’s everything I could’ve wanted. No, no he’s more. Oh my gods,” He whispered, eyes staring in some mix between fear and hope as he looked to the statue of the goddess on the makeshift altar. Some sense of realization washed over him. “I’m falling in love with him. I want him to be my queen but I want him to be happy... to be happy with me.”

Lukas was characteristically quiet for a while before he spoke. “Do you know where we are headed now?”

Alfred looked back over to the man in front of him, eyes desperate for something he couldn’t touch. “No.” He answered, wondering why he would bring that up amidst everything that had just been said.

Lukas hummed softly. “We are sailing to Britannia.” He could tell by the look on the prince’s face that the name rang a bell, but he couldn’t quite place it. He took it upon himself to elaborate. “Britannia is the island Arthur is from. He is going home.” It was no doubt that almost losing Peter ruffled up some sort of homesickness for the Brit. “This will not be a simple visit. Prince Alfred,” he saw the way the title made the other man stiffen. “If you truly want Arthur to be happy, you will need to see why he despises you so much.”

Alfred nodded to show he was listening even though his voice was stuck in this throat. He swallowed and forced it out. “I don’t want him to hate me.”

“I know you don’t.”

“How?” He couldn’t help but ask. Everything in him was swirling in confusion, most of all why Lukas would help him and not tell Arthur who he really was. “Why are you doing this? Why not tell Arthur the truth about me?”

The smaller man seemed to ponder this for a moment, but he was quick to answer. “The Goddess has declared that the two of you are the rightful heirs of the Spade Kingdom. I heard her call and answered it. Those years ago when I assisted in freeing Arthur from your royal guards was because she requested me to.”

“What? But if Arthur was going to be brought to the castle, why free him? Shouldn’t the goddess want him to be there as soon as possible since she gave him the mark to begin with?” Alfred asked, bewildered. He never said he fully understood the gods and their ways, but giving Arthur the mark only to keep them apart was incomprehensible to him.

“I can’t speak for her,” Lukas admitted. “However, from where I stand, it seems like it was the best course of action at the time.” Seeing the confusion furrow deeper in Alfred, he continued. “Think. What would have happened had Arthur been dragged against his will to the castle then? There would be no hope of redemption for you in his eyes. Only hatred.”

“But I didn’t do anything! All I have is a mark that matches his, I don’t want to force him into anything.”

“That doesn’t matter because it isn’t your choice. Tradition would have been followed regardless of what you or he wanted. Arthur would have been crowned, but in doing so he would have lost his ship, his crew, his freedom, and most likely his brother.”

“Why would he lose Peter? He can come live in the castle with us!” He would love having the kid around.

Lukas didn’t reply for a while, sitting there quietly until Alfred shifted nervously in his seat. He chose not to answer the question and settled for something else. “If you want a chance at love with Arthur, you will have to delve into his darkness...and you may not like what you see.” His voice was low but clear, watching the reaction Alfred gave him carefully. The younger boy looked just as confused, if not now scared, as before. “The Goddess asked for my aid in this journey but in the end, it is up to you and Arthur to create your own fates.”

Alfred knew what he wanted, he wanted Arthur to be his but he also wanted him to be happy. He promised himself he would make sure it happened no matter what.

“Here, keep this.” Lukas pulled the necklace from his neck, offering it over to his guest who took it with hesitant hands. “You know what it is already, but for clarity’s sake, it’s the symbol of The Goddess. Keep it on you and let it remind you of what you want your fate to be. May She bless whatever path you choose to follow.”

--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

The conversation with Lukas left Alfred anxious and paranoid. Surely if one person recognized him then someone else would eventually too. There was also the overwhelming thought that his identity would get to Arthur somehow as well, which was the last thing he wanted. He would tell him the truth eventually, he had to, but he wanted to do it on his own terms. He wanted Arthur to be able to forgive him.

These worries plagued his thoughts for the rest of the trip. Over two weeks later they landed on the coast of a green island, by a small, sea-side town. Their large ship looked painfully out of place parked at the humble dock, surrounded only by small boats used for fishing.

The crew members were allowed off the ship, but were instructed specifically to be ‘well-behaved’. Alfred found the command a little humorous considering they were pirates, after all, but no one had complained and even acted as if they had expected it. They respected their captain enough to listen.

“Gilbert,” Arthur voiced after having sought out the man on the deck of the ship. “You’re in charge of The Siren’s Arrow until I return. I trust you’ll keep everything in order.”

“Of course, Cap. Leave it to the awesome me!”

“Good. Alfred, you’re coming with me. Here, carry this.” The Brit handed the younger man a bag to sling around his back before he looked to his brother. Thankfully he had healed up quite nicely and looked alright to go out for the day. “Peter, are you ready?”

“Yeah!” The boy cheered excitedly, basically jumping in anticipation. “I love when we get to come back home.”

Arthur offered the smaller blonde a slight smile before motioning them to follow, stepping off the ship and into the town. They spent little time there, however, as Arthur continued onward. He guided them on a small, dirt path out of the little village and through some trees, leading out to fields and fields of long, green grass.

Alfred held his breath seeing it. It was like a scene from a painting, where the grass gently licked the blue skyline. It was like stepping into a rural portrait in one of the castle halls. But actually being here was so much better than seeing it on a canvas. Here he could smell the salty air and feel the grass dance against his fingertips as he reached out to it. It was a kind of calm that he had never experienced before and suddenly, he found himself staring out in front of him to Arthur and Peter.

The two brothers walked side by side, Peter eagerly skipping along beside Arthur who, every so often, gave the boy a content smile. It was picture perfect. It looked right seeing them together here. Like they were meant to be here and nowhere else.

It wasn’t until the pirate turned his head and gave him a confused look that Alfred noticed he had stopped walking completely, too enraptured by the sight of Arthur being so blissfully happy to even move.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

The words were genuine, their concern and worry piercing Alfred’s heart and pulling him in deeper. He didn’t want this to end, he realized. He wanted to see that peaceful look in Arthur’s eyes every day of his life. He wanted to see Arthur be this happy every waking moment.

“Alfred?” Peter had stopped now too, confused as he turned around just as his older brother had. “Are you okay?”

Something caught in his throat and kept the words from coming out, but he managed to nod and continue onward. He caught the troubled glance Arthur gave him at that moment but the Brit didn’t voice his concerns, instead he turned and continued their pace up the shallow hills.

Eventually, Alfred saw a small building come into view. Sitting atop a hill, only a short distance away from the calm waters was a modest home. It was hardly anything to be proud of, not looking even big enough for a small family. Still, he had to admit, it had a certain charm to it that drew him in.

Peter cheered when the house came into view and he ran the rest of the way to it, bounding through the door without knocking. Alfred was worried he might be busting in on a kind family, but Arthur surprisingly didn’t mind, so he guessed his fears were misplaced.

Catching up to the boy, Alfred glanced around and found they were the only people there. The inside of the building was just as humble and simple as the outside. The rooms were small and decorated with only simple, wooden furniture, the only pops of color being handmade items like pillows and blankets. It was the stark opposite of the castle back home filled with gold and riches.

Yet, this didn’t seem to bother Arthur or Peter at all. The two of them making themselves at home as if they’d lived there their entire lives.

Then, it hit him. Lukas had said they were headed to The Island of Britannia, where Arthur had been born and raised. Could this really be where the extravagant captain had come from?

“Here, let me see the bag.” The Brit pulled at the sack still hung around the prince’s shoulders, easily pulling it off and setting it on the kitchen table. The wooden piece of furniture nearly took up the entire room, making it appear even smaller than it already did. He dug through it and pulled out a small box of tea leaves and a pot, setting them on the table before moving to the stove to start a fire. “Alfred, will you take that bucket and get some water? There’s a pump just outside, around back.”

The prince dutifully nodded, willing to do anything to keep Arthur this happy. “No problem, I’ll be back in no time, Cap!” He grabbed the bucket from its spot and went back outside, rounding the building and easily finding the pump Arthur had mentioned.

The water pump wasn’t the only thing behind the home, however, and Alfred couldn’t help but stop and stare. Resting, neatly cleaned and well cared for were four graves lined in a row, each marked by a slab of stone. They were shadowed by a large tree, its branches leaning over them as if to shield them from the sun.

He gripped the bucket a little tighter in his hand as he looked them over. It wasn’t a feeling of fear, despite the fact they were utterly alone and no one would hear him if he did scream. No, the stones carved with the names of those past sent a wave of heartache over him. He had no idea why, he didn’t know these people or how they had died. For all he knew, they were awful people or they had lived long, fulfilling lives. But something in him told him neither of those things were true.

“That’s our family.”

Alfred jumped, turning to see Peter standing beside him. Despite what he said, he still held a joyful grin on his young face.

“This one here is our mum,” The boy walked over and patted one of the stones under his small hand. He gave the name marker a wide smile before motioning the others beside it. “And these are our big brothers! This one’s Alistair, he is the oldest.” He pointed at each grave as he named them off, not bothered at all by the heart-rending act. Did Peter not feel the sense of gloom Alfred was feeling? He looked as happy as ever. “And this is Owen, he’s the next oldest. And this one’s Liam, he’s the third!”

The young boy grinned over at Alfred as he introduced each passed family member. The realization that Arthur didn’t have just one brother but four shook him to his core. How had he never heard these names before? Why was Arthur’s truth not being told to him? Did his parents really not think it was important to tell him about his future husband’s family?

Peter didn’t notice the forlorn in Alfred’s eyes and continued anyway.

“Next is Arthur, but you know him already. He’s mum’s fourth son, and then there's me! I’m the last!” He pointed at himself excitedly. “Arthur takes care of me now, but we like to come back and visit our mum and our brothers sometimes, when we can.” He explained, as if it were that easy. As if this was the same as a small walk down the road to visit your favorite neighbor.

The ease in which Peter talked about his family broke Alfred’s heart to pieces. He wondered, how did it make Arthur feel?

“It’s really pretty here and I miss it a lot sometimes. But, Arthur says we can’t stay too long. There’s a lot of royal ships around, I think they look for him here because they know we always come back.” Peter sat on the ground in front of the graves, bringing his knees up and resting his arms on them. “I don’t really understand why they want him so bad. I mean, if he doesn’t want to marry some prince then he shouldn’t have to, right? They can’t make him marry someone. That’s not how love works. You’re supposed to love the person you marry, aren’t you?”

Alfred felt his hands shaking. He wondered how a child no older than twelve could really be sitting there in front of his dead family and be so content with the chaos that surrounded him. The chaos that his family was causing.

“Alfred? Aren’t you supposed to be getting some water? Arthur will get cranky if you take too long and he doesn’t get his tea.” Peter warned, snapping the prince out of his emotions long enough to walk over to the pump and set the bucket in front of it. He pushed it until the water started to leak out of it, filling the container with clear liquid.

“Are you coming inside?” Alfred forced himself to ask, his voice strained from the emotional burden he was feeling.

“Nah, not yet. I want to sit out here a little longer. But I’ll come in once the tea is done.” The boy smiled warmly.

Alfred only nodded and carried the bucket back towards the house.