#will i ever be able to move back out of this accursed state

[x-tracuddlycactus]

Spoilers for H.azbin H.otel episode 8!

R.osie x A.lastor 🥀🦌

Might be a bit ooc

"A.lastor, deary..."

R.osie's voice was like sweet music to the R.adio D.emon's ears. Said ears flicked on the top of his head, the head that was currently resting in the lap of his closest friend. With one hand, her gentle fingers brushed through his blood red hair, careful not to touch his sensitive antlers.

The other hand was resting on top of his clothed abdomen, slowly moving from side to side, left to right, up and down, a repeated pattern of affection of which he was soaking up with both gratitude and relief.

"You only overdo it when something is bothering you." He sighed, knowing it was futile to hide his true feelings around her. She was right, but to say he was bothered would be a severe understatement.

It was only a few days after he nearly died by the hands of the first man. If he hadn't fled, he would have certainly been killed, and that alone pissed him off to no end. When did he ever care for those people at the hotel? How could he? His whole plan was to be the one pulling the strings, but after that whole fiasco, he felt the fear he had tried so hard to keep pushed down.

... and with that fear came the hunger, unending and ruthless. A special kind of famine that longed for control and power. The contract he was under held him back significantly, and of course, due to the accursed deal, control and power were far out of his reach and left him starving. What else was he to do to ease the growling beast except gorge himself?

Which led him to his current state, filled to the brim, seeking out the one person in his unlife that he could trust. Her soft sigh was what put his raging mind and belly at ease, along with her tender touch.

Her palm glided across the curve of his tummy with every ounce of her love put into each motion. A.lastor had to restrain himself from arching up. Of course, nothing gets past R.osie's knowing gaze. Sensing his yearning, she deepend her massage, chasing away each uncomfortable twang that surface from his stuffed gut.

A giggle escaped the feminine cannibal's lips as she not only heard but felt the churning happening beneath her fingertips, his crimson eyes peaking open to glance up at her with content. "Is everything settling in there, deary?" She asked.

"Perfectly." His static voice crackled. "If it weren't for you, dear R.osie, I believe I would have succumbed to the fate of my own gluttony. For this, I must thank you." Another burbling groan rang out from the depths of his stomach, eliciting another wonderful chuckle from her.

"No need for thanks, I do this out of the goodness of my heart..." She then smirked, her sharp teeth glinting, as she pressed down on a rather tender spot of his belly. He wasn't able to contain the guttural belch that she pushed out of him, leaving him shocked and amused. "... and for my own entertainment."

A.lastor shook his head, then, after his hundreds of years in Hell, laughed. A genuine, joyful, belly shaking laugh, one that R.osie took great delight in, and probably one that would be for her ears only.

Now all he could focus on was the present moment, his digestive system noisily gurgling away the contents of his stomach, the soothing hand that was aiding and encouraging those productive sounds, and the presence of a true friend. His eyes close again, his smile turning blissful.

#belly kink #stuffing #belly rubs #burps #but its only one towards the end #hazbelly hotel #r.osie is a.lastor's comfort person #my favorite ship in the entire show #rambling cactus #as you can tell i suck at making good endings

[justyouraverageonlinedegenerate]

Accidentally on Purpose

Harvestella Fan Fiction - Brakka x Ein/OC

Description: After getting badly hurt on a job out with Ella, Brakka is forced to stay at her house on Bird's Eye Brae to recover. That was his story, and he was sticking to it. And no matter how many times Shrika would tease him about it, no--it was not all part of some elaborate plan just to move in with Ella.

____________________________________________

Chapter Two

It had been a few days since Brakka came to stay with Ella, and life was certainly... interesting. First off, having four different annoying fairies flying around helping with the housework and farm chores was new to Brakka. Juno was especially... annoying. She almost nagged him to rest and stop trying to do things himself more than Ella did. Brakka was stubborn, and he wasn't about to let his shoulder slow him down--unless those scary, piercing, lavender eyes belonging to Ella looked at him a certain way. He felt like a kid again, having someone taking care of him. It wasn't a bad thing, just... weird.

Something he didn't expect to like was all of the home cooked meals. Ella was always active in the kitchen, cooking and baking while singing and dancing away... it was kind of cute. And, on the upside, Brakka had never been more well-fed in his life. He didn't miss his usual biscuits he'd eat for a snack all the time; the ones Aria had accursed so much...

He was able to get up and walk around, but he needed help doing just about anything else with the state of his shoulder. He felt embarrassed that Ella had to help him get in and out of his shirts each day. Something as simple as that he should be able to do himself.

Ella would come and go throughout the day, back and forth between farmwork and visits to town. She'd make the trip and back to the clinic daily for Brakka's pain medicine, which he appreciated. Ella did her best to keep him from feeling lonely, being all by himself in the house for hours at a time. Sometimes, Brakka would just come sit outside and watch Ella do her farmwork. She didn't mind, and she'd chat with him as she worked.

Brakka just couldn't shake this perpetual feeling of... well, awkwardness.

Why did he feel awkward? Well...

He was an independent man and a mercenary. He never had to rely on anyone's help before, so he really didn't know how to accept it. Before he met Ella and Aria that fateful day almost a year ago, he was very much a solitary guy. He'd have brief conversations with his clients that were work-related, and the occasional interaction with an informant, but that was it. Perhaps you could argue that his social skills were underdeveloped because of it. Then, once Ella and Aria came bursting into his life, things changed quick. He went from a solo lifestyle to being part of a huge team, and it was kind of... fun. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, especially Ella. She'd never let him live it down for admitting he actually liked her and her friends. Brakka was always standoffish and indifferent outwardly, but everyone understood how he really felt underneath all of that. He was a trusted friend and ally to them, and they knew it. Ella especially understood how to read Brakka. He was a hard man to understand at times, always saying one thing but meaning the other.

"Don't follow me," really meant, "I don't care if you come along."

"Stay out of my personal business," would actually mean, "you can help if you want, I guess."

"DON'T talk to me while I'm in town," actually translated to, "I don't mind if you come say hello if you see me."

He was a hard man to follow, but Ella seemed to do it with ease. She found his dual personality to be amusing. It was kind of adorable to her that he'd outwardly be standoffish, but on the inside actually be pretty lonely and want to be around his friends.

Brakka was not the most verbally communicative guy, but Ella understood him and his awkward ways of expressing himself just fine. Even a subtle look on his face would tell her all she needed to know. It kind of creeped him out at first how easily she could read him, but then he grew accustomed to not having to think too hard about what to say to her. Over time he grew to like that about her.

Over time he grew to like a lot of things about her.

No matter how much he would push her away, she'd stay. Regardless of how harsh his words could be, she saw right through him. She always gave him her hand anytime he needed it. Even without asking her for help, she always gave it. She was a fearless leader with wily charms he didn't quite understand. He didn't understand how someone could be so likeable until he met Ella.

Brakka watched Ella plow her field and plant seeds as his mind wandered. In a way, he thought of Ella like a sticky trap. The harder you struggled, the more stuck you got. The harder he tried to push her away, the harder she fought to stay. He didn't notice when it happened, but she quickly became a very important person in his life. He couldn't imagine his life without her. She just sort of... grew on him.

Not that he'd ever tell her.

Brakka wasn't really one for talking about... feelings. He spent years denying them, and now that the floodgates had opened and he was experiencing everything for the first time in years, he struggled to parse through it all. He went through a lot once his quest for revenge was over. He felt lost and alone, but Ella was always there to remind him that wasn't true. She was always there. He went from having a life without purpose to now having multiple motivations driving him. Maybe Ella's altruistic nature rubbed off on him, but Brakka enjoyed his mercenary work more now that he focused on helping people. He quickly became the Order's right-hand man, and he felt bad that he was leaving them to fend for themselves for so long.

Although he did appreciate having a break from Skrika's incessant teasing.

Oh, did she get a kick out of his letter explaining his current situation. Shrika quickly wrote back with well-wishes, as well as a congratulations to graduating to domestic life. Hilarious. Brakka dreaded how much she was inevitably going to tease him about staying with Ella once he got back to work.

Shrika was scary perceptive, and she could see through Brakka in ways Ella was oblivious to. Such as, well, I don't know... that Brakka had hopelessly fallen in love with Ella months ago and had kept quiet about it all this time.

Yes, the big bad mercenary guy who always preferred to be alone had fallen in love with a bubbly altruist with a pension for getting herself wrapped up in solving everyone's problems.

Ella had quickly snuck her way into his heart without him even realizing it. He wasn't sure when his feelings changed, but he noticed how much more he worried about her when they were out fighting the war against Quietus. Sometimes he'd be so distracted looking out for her that he'd miss his shot. He'd find his mind wandering to her more often, taking place of his usual thoughts about work. Soon enough, just like how revenge had once consumed him, Ella had magically taken its place in Brakka's mind.

As perceptive as she was, Ella was completely clueless about how Brakka felt about her. And he intended to keep it that way.

He... didn't deserve her.

He was not a good person. He was a wanted man for the longest time who had to live in the shadows, and he did many horrible things throughout his life... he was once a man consumed by the desire for revenge and nothing else. He was a brute, and she was a ray of sunshine.

She was ridiculously bright and shining all of the time--a beacon of hope for the people around her, just like Shatolla's lighthouse. Someone so bright had no place being with someone stuck in the dark.

So, he kept his feelings from her. He wouldn't tell her.

"Hey, space cadet. What are you thinking about?"

"Huh?" Brakka shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts as he realized he was face to face with Ella.

"I've been talking to you for a few minutes now, and you've just been out of it." Ella chuckled as she rested her hands on her hips. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothin'." Brakka smiled wryly as he looked down at the ground. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay, if you say so." She shrugged with a cute grin.

"Stop that." Brakka dismissively waved at her teasingly.

"Stop what?" Ella laughed incredulously.

"You're doing it again... using your wily charms on me." He smiled and looked away from her.

"Nuh uh!" Ella giggled. "All I did was smile!"

"Bingo." Brakka snapped his fingers.

Ella scoffed in disbelief. "What, I can't smile now?"

"No..." Brakka trailed off. "It's just... you're so bright at times. It's almost too much."

Ella playfully frowned. "Sorry."

"Gah, don't do that to me." Brakka sighed heavily. "Never change despite what I say, El."

Her smile quickly returned to her face as she beamed at him. "Okay!"

Her adorably infectious grin sent shivers down his spine. It was too bright to look at, but at the same time, he couldn't look away. Ella was just too damn charming for her own good, and he worried that might get her into trouble someday. If a guy like him fell hard for her, others surely would too. He'd certainly caught Heine looking at Ella a certain way before, which made Brakka suddenly feel like breaking something in half.

Brakka suddenly winced as a sharp pain ran up his shoulder, which put Ella on high alert.

"Oh, I suppose it's time for your medicine." She pressed a finger to her lips thoughtfully. "Come on, let's go inside and I'll make lunch."

"Alright..." Brakka carefully stood up and followed the petite girl back into the house.

It had only been a few days, but Brakka was starting to get used to this routine. He'd wake up, and Ella would have already been up for a few hours and made breakfast for him. She'd go out and work on the farm, and he'd either putter around the house, or go sit outside with her. She'd take a break and make lunch, and they would sit and eat together. Even though she was teasing when she said it, Shrika was right--this was very much domestic life.

What scared Brakka was how much he didn't mind it.

____________________________________________________

It was getting harder and harder to ignore his feelings for Ella as the days passed. He had grown accustomed to living with someone and sharing everyday life with them. He quickly had forgotten what it was like to be alone. He got used to sleeping in an actual bed, and he wondered how he always slept on the floor before with no trouble. Having three home-cooked meals a day suddenly became the norm, and he couldn't imagine going back to how he used to live anymore.

At first, he couldn't wait to heal up and get right back to work. Now that it had been two weeks, he was dreading leaving.

"How's the shoulder?" Ella turned the corner and leaned down to inspect his wound.

Brakka pulled his face away from hers in surprise, not expecting her to get so close all of a sudden. He fought back the blush that threatened to climb onto his cheeks. "Better. I can move it a little, though it still hurts."

"Are you still bruised?" Ella leaned in closer to take a look at his shoulder carefully.

Brakka held his breath as he stared at the oblivious girl wide-eyed. "No, the bruises have cleared up."

"Good!" Ella backed away and clapped her hands together excitedly.

Brakka let out the breath he was holding and shook his head at her. "It must be nice being so clueless..."

Ella tilted her head to the side in confusion. "Hm? What do you mean?"

Brakka just sighed. "Exactly."

A sudden knock at the door caught the two off guard, and Cres called out to them. "Ella, I'm coming in."

Ella straightened up and looked at the doctor who just walked in. "Hey, Cres! Come to take a look at our patient?"

Brakka stared down at the floor to hide his embarrassment at the statement "our" patient.

"That's right." Cres smiled, then turned to look at Brakka. "Okay, mister. Time for your medical exam."

While Cres set Brakka back up in the bedroom for a medical exam, Ella mindlessly started cleaning the house. Brakka's eyes were trained on her as she danced around with a broom sweeping, which didn't go unnoticed by Cres.

Cres smirked all-knowingly. "Shoulder's looking good. You should be fine to go home in a few days..." She lowered her voice so only Brakka could hear. "...if you want to, that is."

Startled, Brakka blinked at the doctor strangely. "Wha... of course I want to go home. And as soon as possible." He answered hurriedly.

Ella stopped sweeping for a brief moment as she heard that, then slumped her shoulders and quietly sighed in disappointment. Was it wrong of her to not want him to leave? She had really grown to enjoy living with someone again, especially since it was Brakka. Ever since Aria moved out, it had gotten pretty lonely for Ella. She had many close friends, sure, but... Brakka was different. If you asked her who her best friend was, Aria would come to mind first. But if you asked her who she truly cared about most... Brakka would be her first thought.

And she knew why. She just didn't know how to tell him... or if she even wanted to.

What if he didn't feel the same way? She didn't want to ruin their friendship and make things awkward, but on the other hand, things were already a bit awkward between them because of how she felt about him. Ella tried not to be too obvious about it, but it was hard to hide how much she cared about Brakka. Watching him jump in front of an axe for her gave her the scare she needed to realize what her feelings really were. He was more than just a friend. More than just a trusted partner that she could fight beside. He was...

"Hey, El. Could you lend me a hand with this?"

The sound of Brakka's gentle, rugged voice pulled Ella out of her train of thought, and she turned to walk over to him. "Coming!"

#harvestella #harvestella brakka #harvestella fanfiction #brakka #I wrote this for 6hrs straight kill me

[dailypokemoncrochet]

#080 Slowbro

I’m super proud of how Slowbro turned out!! SO cute

#pokemon #crochet #amigurumi #slowbro #gen 1 #kanto #shoutout to my therapist #this was one of his top pokemon #technically i guess he's not my therapist anymore tho #because of statelines #sigh #will i ever be able to move back out of this accursed state #poqueuemon

[my-writings-and-musings]

oof,, now i wanna see a scenario where max actually ends up killing the tiny human for maximum angst,,, ur stuff is seriously so good.

The angst is real. These are real angst hours. I'm glad you like what I make! I enjoy hurting these bots I love and I have no idea as to why...

WARNING

THERE IS DEATH BELOW, ALONG WITH SADNESS, EMOTIONAL TRAUMA, GRIEF, AND A WHOLE LOT OF ANGST. THOUGH THE ENDING IS SOMEWHAT HOPEFUL READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

The level of guilt and grief had shaken him down to something in the depths of his core, and the onslaught of it all had nearly killed him, his spark all but flickering out when he was given the news. He'd still been in Rung's office, having ended the whole ordeal by pleading for help and promising not to hurt anyone so long as the little human limp in his hands received care. But of course it had been too late...

He hadn't remembered anything about collapsing beyond the incredible hope not to wake up again. Yet, despite everything he had done, Ratchet had put him on spark support and stabilized him. Why was a mystery he didn't have the energy to solve. Cuffed to the berth, he'd asked only to be taken offline for his transgressions, and had refused to eat. When the medics had put him on an energon drip, he'd wondered if his punishment had already been decided and would be the worst possible for a bot like himself; living with what he'd done. They even prevented the multiple attempts to terminate him from various members of the crew...

Rung had been his only non violent visitor, beyond the bots in charge. They'd all been stiff, but the sweet little phsychiatrist had been comforting, as if Max was the one who deserved empathy in all this. Nothing had occurred to him to say beyond how sorry he was and that he didn't mean for any of it. Primus bless his overly soft spark, Rung had forgiven him for what he could, assuring him that the trauma he'd suffered was capable of twisting any spark.

But, he'd also pointed out, it wasn't his place to forgive for the one who wasn't with them anymore. Such a thing could really only come from himself...

He'd cried when he'd heard that for the first time. Cried like a little sparkling after having an energon candy snatched away. The smaller bot had just held him, as much as he could with their differing sizes and positions, and gently encouraged him to let out the pain as long as he needed to. Had his body not been so frail he'd have likely wept for much longer. The pain was just overwhelming, as the phsychiatrist had just told him more or less that he'd never be forgiven.

Because he'd never be able to forgive himself.

Still, for reasons he didn't understand, he'd kept living and the others had refused to let him die. Most of it what you might call his "recovery" had been a blur. Between the grief and the guilt his spark had been determined to snuff itself out, but the skilled medics had refused him even that much, looking progressively less angry as they did so. Ratchet had actually appeared to pity him, something he found both unfathomable and at times infuriating. Regular sessions with Rung did little to soothe that desire to be hated.

He'd have probably continued that way for eons, even after being moved to the cells once his spark was strong enough to handle living on its own, but fate had thrown the entire ship down a very different path.

It had done so in the release of Overlord.

Like a warbeast, he'd been unleashed to take care of the rampaging monster, if only because death for all was guaranteed if the gleeful murderer went undefeated. With nothing to live for and everything to die for, he'd taken the opportunity almost gladly. There had been nothing to hold him back when he met his tormentor. Fear had stood no chance against his pure and unfathomable hate, but he didn't care at all for avenging himself, his spark burned for a life that had been lost in his own hands. It had been almost comically clear to him; he didn't need to be forgiven, but he hardly shouldered all the blame, for who had twisted him into what he was today? Who had caused nothing but suffering from the moment his spark had emerged from the Well? Who was smiling through it all?

The battle had been long and, even to experienced veterans, gruesome. He'd been torn apart, but pain had seemed so minor it simply didn't stop him. Pink energon had slicked up the floor beneath them, and when firepower had become unavailable the two had resorted to grappling with raw strength, fighting more like animals than bots. It had been agonizing due mostly to how desperately he needed to not die. Death wasn't an option unless this monstrosity went first. Looking into those twisted optics had been an excellent source of motivation, both at the beggining of the battle and towards the end, even as his vision began to fail from the strain of keeping himself going.

The final push had become possible when he saw what he'd wanted so desperately; Overlord was afraid.

Because he knew he was losing.

According to witnesses, the murderer had actually made an effort to flee in the end, but Max had finished him off by hunting him down and pinning him to the energon and viscera soaked ground.

A crack to Overlord's chassis had been his only target, one he attacked with primal fury using what remained of his arms and servos, clawing and tearing like a starving beast tunneling for a meal. As the armor had peeled back to reveal a sickly green spark, the former tormentor had actually begged. Max had heard none of it, taken no pleasure in the reversal of their roles, and had instead been unnaturally silent as he worked. This wasn't about his revenge. When his digits had secured about that spark, they'd actually burned from the heat of it, as if the accursed thing had come from the Pit itself. Yet he'd persisted, not even looking the now pitiful Overlord in the optics. The Phase Sixer was no longer a concern.

All he remembered before the blackness was how unusual a sound the heated orb in his hand had made upon being wrenched outwards, like the cracking of organic timber, only to collapse between his digits with the sound of thick glass shattering all at once. The explosion had taken his arm off, but pain had dissapeared from his being on every level. In fact, he'd known only that his battered face was smiling in what he believed to be the end. It was the small and content smile of knowing a job was done. Perhaps that was the closest someone like him could get to absolution, but even as his body had hit the floor, he hadn't minded whether or not the afterlife would deem him worthy of peaceful eternity.

Because if it didn't, he'd have the opportunity to do this again, and then perhaps Overlord would face a modicum of justice in eternity...

He could have sworn he saw you in the still silence, but that made little sense for a multitude of reasons. Though he could have passed it off as the effect of a million life saving treatments while he hovered on the edge of death, a state he apparently spent weeks in, he had decided to view the moments in your presence as an eternal mystery. You'd smiled and had assured him everything was fine, but had always been that way. Shushing any efforts at apology, you'd embraced his palm just as you'd done once in life, but this time the warmth of your touch seemed to fill his entire frame. It hadn't been enough for him to forgive himself, but he'd known peace. The one who'd started the vicious cycle of hurt was no more, and he promised it would end with him. Though he'd still fight, it would only ever be as a guardian. Wherever he ended up...

The soft beeping of countless monitors and the hum of just as many life supporting machines had replaced your voice when his optics had finally opened. Unable and unwilling to move, he'd been plagued by hurt in every solid inch, save for something far less unpleasant on his right hand.

Rung had been there when his optics finally found the strength to roll in his immobile helm, and the tiny mech had looked ecstatic to see him wake, calling for Ratchet as his small hand secured its grip on his. There had only been enough energy in him to stay awake a few minutes, but that had been all he needed to see the bursting shelf of Innermost Energon left for him. Apparently his victory and subsequent survival had redeemed him for most. That didn't really matter to him, nor did the assurance his crimes would be absolved in the wake of his considerable... extenuating circumstances and actions of atonement. Recovery had come impossibly slowly, and with all that quiet he finalized his plans for the future, finding endless companionship and motivation in his tireless therapist.

He'd live for you, every day that remained of his own life, to shape the galaxy into one as bright as it had been with you in it. Nothing could undo the past, but further wrongs might be prevented. The first hope he felt in forever was that you'd approve of his decision.

Support me here if you like my writing! Every donation helps me secure more time to create, and the same goes for commissions, which are always available!

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lost light #ll #idw #tf #my writing #my asks #anon #fort max #fortress maximus #human reader #im so mean to this robot guys #tw death

[sophi-s]

In Their Hollow Heart

Chapter I: Sealed Fate

Fandom: Hollow Knight video game

Words: 9,153

Characters: The Hollow Knight, The Pale King, The Radiance

Warnings: Blood and Gore, Violence, Sickness, Angst, Mind manipulation, Gross imagery, Permanent injury, Mentions of vomit, Suicidal thoughts, THK really needs a hug :(, SPOILERS for the game (That's a lot of warnings, :O)

Summary:

There is a good reason why the Hollow Knight doesn't discuss with anyone what happened in the Black Egg Temple.

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

In the eternal kingdom of Hallownest there were many places one could without hesitation call decrepit or desolated at best. Especially after the plague of the Old Light has swept through it like a tidal wave. None of them, however, were able to match the current state of the Crossroads. Many of the inhabitants left in panic once they realised it was the epicenter of the vile Infection, leaving the place nearly completely abandoned. Crossroads were unfortunate enough to be the first area to succumb to Her wrath. But that was years ago. And only recently the orange veins shriveled up and receded, much to all bugs' relief. Their King had finally found the solution to the frightening disease of Dreams and Mind that now seemed like a distant memory. The sickly sweet smell of the plague of the Old Light made place for a stale aroma of dust and dirt of underground tunnels, as though nothing had ever happened.

The Hollow Knight however - even with their void-dulled sense of smell - could still detect the nauseating scent drifting through the caverns. Hovering nearby wherever they went. Or maybe it was just them? Were they already going crazy? Maybe. Maybe not. A barely noticeable tint of orange invaded the corner of their vision… Do not think. They reprimanded themself, forcing the vibrant color to disappear, as they stood before a gaping entrance to the temple of the Black Egg. An accursed place that would soon become their tomb. They tried not to compare it to being buried alive… But no matter how you look at it, unless the King finds a way to get rid of Her for good this will be their final resting place. A grave. And they would be a living corpse hidden inside forever. A frightening perspective… Do not.. Even though they were trying their best to hide it, they were in pain. Pain so great that it had them trembling, unable to cry out or make any sound to voice their suffering to be honest. Do not speak… An alien feeling, as though someone had poured liquid fire into their body, ever since the source of the Infection was placed within them, was constantly there. It's been barely half an hour, yet it hurts so much already… The Goddess was more powerful than they ever imagined. Do not feel. Easier said than done. But they can fight it. They have to fight it. For Hallownest. For the King… their father.

The Pale Monarch in question silently stood beside the Pure Vessel, staring off into the impenetrable darkness filling up the temple constructed for the sole purpose - one it shared with the Hollow Knight - no discernible expression on his face. This was it. Once they enter here, they won't leave. A one way ticket to their damnation. As tempting as it was, the Hollow Knight did not make a move to look at the Pale King. That would mean they have thoughts and feelings. They weren't supposed to. They didn't want to disappoint him. He tried so hard to save this kingdom and he desperately needed his child to be pure, devoid of any emotion, without a mind or will… the Hollow Knight hated that they weren't pure like their father wanted them to be. They detested it. But for him they had to be pure. They couldn't fail him. They wouldn't fail him. She can push against them all She wants, they're not going to break that easily. With a soundless groan, they blink away the bright pinpricks swirling before their eyes and shudder at the heat welling up in their chest only to be cooled down by the Void in their heart. It will take some getting used to… No one said it's going to be easy to hold onto a raging Goddess of Dreams. But they can do this. Right?

"Vessel."

Automatically, the Hollow Knight turns their head to face the owner of the stern, seemingly indifferent voice as he addresses them, and shoots a glance at the Pale King looking up at them with as much dignity as he can, considering he was barely up to the Vessel's hip by that point. They always found it strange. That after their second molt, their father started to have to look up at them. How fast the time had passed.. Not so long ago, they were just a hatchling, no taller than the King's shoulder, following him obediently wherever he went, always fulfilling his orders without a second of hesitation. Just like he wanted them to. And now? They were towering over him like he did over them back then at the summit of the Abyss.

It was not the curiosity that made them turn to the King. They shouldn't be curious. They can't. It would mean their inevitable failure before their task even truly began. Because that's what they were always meant to be. Emotionless. Empty. Hollow.. But no matter how hard they tried, they weren't. They never were… However, they were immensely good at their act. Without a single sound, the Hollow Knight watched their father for a moment as he tried to find the right words. In a very odd, sort of amusing way, the Pale King knitted his eyebrows in annoyance and sighed in exasperation at his own height before making a beckoning gesture with one of his four hands while the other three remained tucked into his white cloak. Amusement. It makes one want to chuckle at something one finds funny.

"Come down here."

Not waiting a second, the Hollow Knight bent down and noisily got on one knee - dropping much heavier than they intended due to the pain which was for now blessedly dissipating -  to be on the eye level with their father. The Pale King was a mysterious creature. A Wyrm, a God of Mind and Soul, taking a form of a small bug, always aloof and regal. But sometimes, the façade would slip to reveal something more than a cold monarch without care for anything other than Hallownest. He didn't seem to care about hundreds of vessels that died in the dark depths of the Abyss. He didn't seem to care when Xero was executed for treason (executed might be s bit of a stretch. The moth died where he stood when he attacked the King). And he didn't seem to care when the allied Mantis Lord succumbed to the Infection on his own volition after the tragic loss of his only daughter. But Wyrm’s child knew their father too well. Up this close, even with his stern mask of a ruler in its place, the Hollow Knight could clearly see that he did, in fact, care. The dull look in his dark eyes spoke volumes. Sadness. This one makes one want to cry and takes away the will to do anything. His glimmering, half-translucent wings quivered ever so slightly.. He cares. He cared when their mother, the Root, had left the White Palace and hid away in her gardens when grief and remorse became too much for her to bear. He always cared, even though very few could see it. And now, he cares that he is about to lock his only surviving offspring away with a furious moth Goddess sealed inside of them. Condemn them to an endless torture. Was it too late for regrets?

For just a short second, the King stepped a little closer to the Pure Vessel. Reached out… The black heart hastened in their chest, partially because of anticipation and partially because whatever this gesture made them feel caused the faint haze to fall over their sight again. The pale hand stained black with Void was inches away from the Hollow Knight's cheek, they could practically feel it rest on their shell already. Was it to be the first and the last time their father found it in himself to actually openly and consciously grant them a small sign of affection? Was it?

Before the blackened claws could come into contact with their white shell however, the Pale King closed his eyes in defeat and turning away slipped his hand back into the folds of his cloak. A new feeling, like many others before it, was forced down to not give Her this satisfaction that She's winning. Disappointment. When one doesn't get something much awaited. Or when something doesn't meet one's expectations. Reminding them again. Do not hope. The Hollow Knight didn't make a move aside from the occasional shiver caused by the burning in their gut and in their head. Maybe he was right not to follow through with it.. Yes, he knows it best. It will be better this way. No distractions to keep the Pure Vessel from containing the Radiance.

"Stay strong, Hollow Knight.. Do not fail me."

Never, father.

The Hollow Knight was glad their facial expression cannot really change as it now would be scrunched up in frustration and a little bit of anger. This one they were rather familiar with. Makes one want to hit something or be surly. They were thinking. Again. Why is it so hard? Sometimes, they really wished they were born without a mind. At least, they wouldn't have to fear disappointing their father. And maybe just once he would have a reason to be truly proud of them.. Fortunately, the plague didn't seem to take advantage of their lapse in self control. If anything, the spiteful presence behind it recoiled almost in disgust as it listened to their short thought. Good.

"It is time. Come."

Their father solemnly stated and slowly stepped into the Egg, the Hollow Knight following close behind, begging their legs not to fail them when they felt like their limbs were empty. Pure Vessel focused on the sound of shuffling metal, the plates of their armor scraping against one another, the only sound in the thick silence of the Void pressing against the walls of the temple, as they walked after the familiar, soft, pale glow of their father's form through the pitch black darkness - just like that fateful day of their birth - ignoring the intricate white sigils forming wherever their and their father's feet fell. Merely the close proximity to the Void filling up the temple made the Radiance hiss with alarm. She and this darkness were mortal enemies since the dawn of time. The Void was pressing against them as well, a house for the Old Light. They only hoped-... No. Do not hope. Breathing in the cold, still air and exhaling without a sound, the Hollow Knight repeated the words in their head. Echo of it seemed like a mantra they kept wordlessly saying to themself whenever in doubt of the success of their purpose.

Do not think.

Do not speak.

Do not hope.

Do not feel.

"Hollow Knight."

Their head perked up in attention at their father's call. He stood beside a stone tablet glimmering with white lights forming into words. To the Hollow Knight, those were just meaningless symbols. Like those scribbled on the letters his father was writing. They lacked both of those abilities - reading and writing - but with these tablets it wasn't necessary. The chunks of carved stone were infused with Soul after all, allowing everyone to know the message placed upon them. Gesturing to it, the Pale King didn't look up at the Knight.

"Lay your hand upon it and claim its wisdom. My last gift to you."

A gift? One of the few they'd ever received, with others being a necklace from their mother (a solid silver teardrop stored away in a simple locket on a delicate chain), the pure nail from a skilled nailsmith at the request of their father once they reached adolescence and a small, wooden figurine of a spider from their younger half-sister Hornet. Kneeling down in front of the glowing tablet, the white light reflecting in their spotless armor and washing over their features, the Hollow Knight did as they were told. Almost immediately, the magic crept up their arm and the words inscribed on the tablet turned into a quiet but unmistakable whisper in their head.

Vessel. Though bound, you shall know the state of the world.

Hallownest will be whole again.

As confusing as those words were, soon everything became clear once the Hollow Knight's vision for just a sliver of a second was projected through the fabric of reality and wandered across Hallownest before quickly returning to the tablet before them. Their father's last gift… Whenever they wish, they could gaze upon the land they'd saved. The land they'd freed from the clutches of the vengeful deity. The world that would move on without them while they silently remained on their post to guard it from the plague that crippled minds of its inhabitants. They wished to thank him. They really did. But they knew they couldn't..

"Go, Vessel. Fulfil your destiny."

It was hard to miss the slight crack in the Pale King's voice as he said it. Was he having second thoughts about the whole thing? Too late to back out now. The Infection was nested within the Child of Void. No turning back. No regrets. Shaking through another hot spasm, the Hollow Knight mustered up the strength to straighten up and dutifully walk off into the depths of the Black Temple, switching the roles with their father who was now following them. The Vessel didn't want this to end that way. End in an eternity of suffering with no one but a Goddess to keep them company in the stillness of the Egg. But they had to do this. They were born for this. Even though they were scared. This here makes one tremble. Heart and breath hasten, and this awful lump grows in one's throat as the stomach twists unpleasantly.

The memories of their early years passed through their mind. When they were barely a few years old but already wielding a nail rather skillfully and training with the Fierce Drrya, while their father watched from afar with a ghost of a smile on his face. He was proud. Proud of his son. And right now, the very same son was about to make him proud this one final time.

Stepping into the large, circular chamber, the Hollow Knight took in their surroundings. So this was their new home then.. just as dull and bleak as the entire Crossroads. Why would it be any different? They weren't to indulge in luxuries here. They were to keep the plague at bay. And that's exactly what they are going to do. At long last, the Pure Vessel stood where it was intended to ever since their nubby paw pierced through the blackened shell of their egg. Looking at their appendage now, it was far from nubby. Long, slender fingers ending in short but still rather sharp claws they never used in favor of the long nail that now rested on their back. One they unsheathed and with one firm strike stabbed it into the floor where it would remain as long as their duty held and took their place in the middle of the smallest stone circles that the floor was made out of. In an instant, the entire temple started to tremble, twisting and churning as reinforced chains of pale ore shot out from the far ceiling, with metallic clanking surrounding the Hollow Knight, wrapping around their body like vines, tangling them in the merciless grasp. Scared again.. Out of the corner of their eye, the Hollow Knight saw their father, finally looking at them and while he showed no guilt, no dismay over shackling his only child, his hands were fiddling with the hem of his robes. A nervous habit. Then, just like that, the floor was gone from underneath the Vessel's feet as they were lifted up into the air. Seconds later a white Seal of Binding flashed over their entire form, as well as on the chains holding them in place and the process of Sealing was complete.

The Hollow Knight tested the chains around their body. Seem sturdy enough… Pale ore is no ordinary material after all. At a quiet sigh coming from the King, they turned to look at him. And he… he was preparing to leave the chamber behind. With his head low, his dignity and regal posture nowhere to be seen as he reluctantly walked towards the archway leading out of the temple. Something in the Vessel's chest twisted unpleasantly as he did. Maybe it was just the Infection? No. It's the sadness.. Look back. Please, look back… If he cares, he will. Just when they brushed the perspective away, the Pale King halted for a short moment to glance over his shoulder at his last surviving child. He did. He cares and he proved it this one last time.

"Goodbye, Hollow Knight.."

He offered and quickly disappeared into the blackness once and for all. The Hollow Knight knew this would be the last time they saw him until the Radiance breathed Her last. Do not feel… They turn away from the doorway and lower their heavy head onto their armored chest with a sigh. The burning pain wasn't as troublesome as it had been minutes ago but present nonetheless. But for Hallownest and their father, they could endure. It still may turn out just fine. They can handle this!

Goodbye, father.

The burning intensified for a beat. Breath in, breath out. It subsided just as quickly. They can handle this…

(Day 1)

The first day is always the most difficult. Hours were passing so obnoxiously long.. one after another, each an eternity in the perfect silence of the Egg. Seconds ticked by in their solitude, making them feel rather strange. As though with each second a small bit of their life was leaving never to return. Perhaps because that’s how it was. Every second spent in the vault was irreversibly lost to them. Every second they could live in the Palace again, beside the Five Knights. Beside their-... No. They firmly shook their head, immediately regretting their decision due to the nausea settling in their stomach. They were never supposed to live. They were just a vessel. A tool. No thoughts, no desires. No bonds with the world they left behind. Liar.

After the first twenty-four hours of vigil, the Hollow Knight started to hear something. A steady, rhythmic thumping seemingly without any clear source. They weren't easily frightened but this unidentified sound was driving them crazy. Where was it coming from? Was this Her attempt to agitate them and torment them? As though the steady fire inside was too little.. Strangely enough, the Radiance seemed rather… passive. She retreated into the farthest reaches of their supposedly empty mind like a grumpy child who'd been grounded by her parents for mischief. Unfortunately, that was most likely not the case. They could bet their head that She was already planning something. Thinking how to get under their skin, to snap them. But was this sound one of Her tricks?

After a couple more seconds, they realised that it's not. In the silence so thick that it would seem loud, Hollow Knight's senses were gradually sharpening, catching the smallest disturbances. And this rhythmic sound was one of them.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum..

Ba-dum…

Their heart of Void thrummed calmly. To be honest, the Vessel was relieved. Relief.. It comes when something bad doesn't happen or ends. No tricks so far. Only their heart. Nothing else. For now the Infection seemed awfully docile. Almost nonexistent. The only sign of its presence was the continual flame swirling around in their body and occasional lights dancing in the periphery of their vision. As painful as it is, the longer it stays that way, the better.

(Day 15)

Just like they suspected, after the first day it became easier. The time seemed to pass faster than it initially did. Even if the silence broken only by their heartbeat was growing maddening. The Hollow Knight kept themself sane by counting seconds, minutes and hours. If their count was without a fault, it's been over two weeks already. Fifteen days, to be exact. Fifteen days in solitude. No voice to speak to them, no familiar face to look at. They missed everyone… Longing. When one desperately wants to see a person or a place again...

Their mother. Lovely, pale Root with sapphire blue eyes, humming softly to herself. Gentle and loving. The Five Knights. Fierce and stern Drrya, their teacher. Surprisingly cheerful and witty Hegemol, clad in a massive set of armor, wielding a mace they found so enormous when they were little. Morose and serious Ze'mer, an outsider, speaking with a funny accent, a silverfish lady with nigh unmatched skills of swordsmanship. Caring and kind Isma, a responsible woman with love for plants. And of course Ogrim. A loyal and tough warrior with a warm and soft inside of a good friend. With the only smell that accompanied them being the sweet, awful smell of sickness, the Vessel realised they were actually missing the distinctive odor of the dung beetle. As odd as it may sound, they would take that stench over the scent of Infection any time now..

And of course, there was their father. The one who's light led them out of the Abyss, the one who practically raised them. The one who's presence made them… happy? One's heart warms up, a smile tries to pull at one's face... Do not feel. The reminded themself when heat began to grow stronger, focusing deeply to make the Void push the unpleasant sensation down. Do not think. It was even more difficult to make the thoughts cease now. There was a whole eternity for them to muse about various things. And with each thought the disease seemed to gain in strength before they inevitably pushed its alluring brightness aside. It's not that bad yet.. They can still do this.

(Day 27)

Hollow Knight, is it? I wonder if the Worm knew how "hollow" you truly are, voidling.

The taunting call reverberating through their pale shell interrupted the Vessel in counting seconds of the slowly passing twenty-seventh day of containment. This voice… soft, strong, yet laced with so much hatred that it seemed to drip from the lips which spoke it like venom. It wasn't there before. She finally found the audacity to try and talk to the Vessel. They shifted uncomfortably in their shackles but didn't react to the taunt. They knew they couldn't. They merely kept counting.

My, so quiet and obedient! A good, little pet dancing to the Worm's tune.

Shuddering, the Hollow Knight chased the dots of orange away from their sight. To distract themself from the Goddess, they peered out at now thriving Hallownest, its citizens carelessly trotting down the streets of the City of Tears, the endless downpour never bothering them in the slightest. They missed the sensation of rain trickling down their shell.. It was relieving to see how much value their duty holds. Wandering across the alleys, the Hollow Knight noticed something that wasn't there before. In the middle of the central plaza was a fountain. It stood there ever since they remembered but this time a large statue crowned it. Surrounded by three smaller figures, it was them. Stoic and silent, head bowed in a loyal gesture, hands on the hilt of their nail in front of them. A cold piece of stone, a reminder of what they did for everybody.

Memorial to the Hollow Knight

In the Black Vault far above. Through its sacrifice Hallownest lasts eternal.

Of course their father would raise a monument to their deed. A faint memory of them posing for such a statue passes through their feverish mind. It was still somewhat surprising it was there as the Hollow Knight never thought that they deserved such recognition. After all, what were they but a weapon? Surprised. Something one was not expecting to happen actually happens.. Still, many bugs stopped beside the statue, sometimes praying, sometimes saying their thanks, sometimes even offering small gifts. And sometimes merely staring in wonderment and gratitude, each of them baffling the Hollow Knight greatly. Confused. This one... They had no idea how to define this emotion. It simply happened every time they couldn't understand something and that was it.

Look at them.. They adore you. I wonder what they would say if they found out you're nothing but a fraud.

No reaction. They are the Pure Vessel. Her tricks won't work on them. By all means, the Hollow Knight was self-distanced enough to ignore any and all insults directed straight at their person. Because, as their father wanted, they refused to be a person. A tool feels no shame, no anger, no outrage in the face of even the most foul profanities. And so they didn't. The Radiance hummed to herself when they remained cold and indifferent.

You are a strong one, I'll give you that. But it won't be long. Soon, you will be mine.

A harsh push against their mind was not enough. Although a faint orange light came to be in the Hollow Knight's eye sockets, it was soon viciously assaulted by tendrils of Void and brutally extinguished. Suppressing a shiver caused by a stab of pain in their thorax, the Hollow Knight bowed their head, bracing themself for whatever the Goddess of Dreams has in store for them. They will not fail Hallownest. They were ready.

(Day 79)

Breaking the Hollow Knight wasn't as easy as the Radiance suspected at first. She kept on trying, attacking their pride (of which they had none), their self esteem (also barely noticeable), the sole purpose of their existence itself. It took Her around eighty days to figure out that none of this was working and it left Her delightfully frustrated. Counting seconds was becoming more and more difficult however. Her constant activity made it harder to keep track and focus on anything else than pushing back against Her.

More and more often, the Hollow Knight saw the lights in their vision, swimming around the chamber and trying to devour their eyesight as they stubbornly kept stifling the plague down. The pain was getting stronger day by day.. How much longer can they keep it at bay? You are the Hollow Knight. The words of the Pale King came to them. Yes. Yes, they are. They have to be. The Radiance has yet to draw an answer from them. Nothing She did thus far made them reply to anything She said. If they did, it would be game over. They cannot fail.. They cannot… And to make sure She won't take control over them that easily, the Hollow Knight avoided sleep to the best of their ability. Falling into the misleadingly comforting embrace of even a short slumber would mean yielding their consciousness into the Realm of Dreams where they would be at their most vulnerable. Almost eighty days without sleep… Even though as a Void born child of two Higher Beings the Hollow Knight didn't find the sleep mandatory for survival, the lack of proper rest and the wrestling for control with the enraged moth Goddess as well as the burning pain have taken their toll on them. How much longer…?

The Pale King would surely find another solution. Soon enough! He wouldn't leave them to rot in this place. He wouldn't.. Would he? Just to make sure, they projected their vision towards the White Palace and towards their father's workshop which was in utter disarray. Pieces of white armor were everywhere as well as stains of liquid Void and unfinished Wingsmoulds resting lifeless on many shelves. It is not surprising to find their creator there, slumped against his desk out cold. Before, every time he worked himself to the point of collapse, the White Lady would come for him, scoop him up in her branches and gently carry him back to their shared bed. But now there was no one for him to retrieve him from his never-ending work. The Hollow Knight tries their best to choke down the feeling of pity when not even a single retainer comes to the workshop if only to place a blanket around the King's shoulders. They were forbidden from entering this place… Pity. This one's tricky. It feels almost like sadness but not quite. It's... sadness directed at someone else who is in difficult situation or a sorry state.

Oh? Could it be that you love him?

A pang of cold, unexpected fear dropped into the depths of their burning stomach once the Vessel realises their grave mistake. They left themselves open before Her. Their minds became one and the same from the moment She was trapped within their body. And they foolishly let themselves be read like a book. A mist of orange fully cloaked their eyes as the suffocating heat rose up to their throat. Now their thoughts (Do not think!) and all their secrets were Hers.

How unusual… and how fortunate for me!

(Day 156...?)

What is this place? The Hollow Knight silently wonders as they look out at a sea of golden clouds gently illuminated by the sun in the distance. They didn't remember a place such as this in the entire Hallownest and they'd seen much of it during their imprisonment and before. All around them is just a sea of cotton like clouds covering everything in sight aside from the amber sky and the aforementioned sun. Perhaps they're on some tall mountain peak in Howling Cliffs during particularly good weather? It would add up.. Only…

Something felt off.

Especially when the Hollow Knight looked down at themself. Their armor shone in the light while their black chitin seemed to consume the brightness instead of reflecting it. Just as it always has been. But it doesn't mean it sits right with them. While peering out at Hallownest, they weren't able to do that. Or even move, so to speak. Chains and all. And another thing. They don't remember attempting to peer out in the first place. All of the sudden they are horrifyingly aware that the rays of the sun, seemingly harmless and soft felt like boiling acid on their Void body. Looking up in mounting panic, they realised that the sun was not actually a sun as the orb of light unfolded, revealing two magnificent wings reaching out as if to embrace the skies-

It was all they needed to jerk back into consciousness with a jolt. The bright orange was once again in their vision, stronger than ever, the scorching heat threatening with asphyxiation. The Hollow Knight attempted to take a deep breath… but the sound they unintentionally produced made them freeze in their bindings. Ever since they hatched in the deepest pit of the Abyss, they were unable to make any sort of sound aside from quietly inhaling and exhaling, even if they were panting from exhaustion after the climb. Now however… Every struggling breath they took came out as a disturbing, wet and gurgling wheeze as though something was clogging up their lungs and hoarse throat. Every breath was loud and unsettling and they felt themself shaking uncontrollably.

They'd fallen asleep. Fool, fool, fool! Exposed themself to the Radiance directly. Thank Wyrm, they managed to wake up at all. But still, the damage was done, the orange film coated their vision and the hot pain seemed to throb just underneath their black chitin, waiting to emerge at any second. The Hollow Knight shifted and tried to pull their legs up but any movement seemed to upset the Infection even further, causing it to thrum louder and more painfully through their flesh.

Looking down at their body was the catalyst. Never before have they thought their Void that served as blood could run even colder but this short glance was all it took to prove them wrong. Uneven buds of developing pustules were forming on their chest and abdomen, pulsing alongside their pounding heart, the orange color slowly surfacing beneath the clear black. Their right shoulder also seemed to be suffering the same fate. The Hollow Knight abruptly becomes dreadfully aware of the sweet taste of rot in the back of their gullet, so sickly nauseating that it makes them retch. In just a few ragged heaves they expel a gout of pure Infection that dribbles down their mouth and splatters across the floor of their chamber. No.. no it cannot end like this…

It wouldn't be so painful if you stopped resisting, you know..

Focus, Vessel. Focus!

Do not think.

Do not speak.

Do not hope…

Do not… feel!

And focus they do. Struggling to even out their breathing, coughing a couple more times to clear their respiratory system of the radiant pus, the Hollow Knight reaches into their core, to the purest Void that remains within and fights the Infection off as best as they can. The Radiance present in their head doesn't hide annoyance when they manage to make the glowing cysts recede back into their shivering body, leaving almost no trace suggesting they were there in the first place. The orange light in their eyes flickers out of existence, swallowed by the Void. The Hollow Knight finally stops desperately clutching at the cloth of their cape with their claws but don't let themself relax fully even as the Radiance admits Her temporary defeat and moves out from the forefront of their mind to the back. Droplets of sweat rolled down their mask alongside a couple of midnight black tears emerging from their eye sockets. The orange in their vision left only to be replaced by darkness that took their hearing and made them feel sick in the stomach again.

The Hollow Knight nearly passes out from the effort of reigning in the Infection but they push through the swimming darkness and fight for each raspy breath. They cannot fall asleep again. If they do, they are done for. Scratch that, Hallownest is done for! They need to stay sharp, stay strong! They wouldn't fail their father. The more they struggled, the more painful the whole ordeal seemed to be. Visions of the suffering's end were tempting but they knew they couldn't stop resisting. They won't let Her win. Focus. They need to focus. Just like many times before, the Vessel returns to counting. Day one hundred and fifty… six. Eight hours (?), thirty-three minutes and nine… teen seconds?

How long have they been asleep? Too long, is the answer. One hundred fifty-six days...- or was it already fifty-seven? What time of day was it in the moment of their imprisonment? It was morning. No, no it wasn't… Evening. But late or early evening? One hundred fifty… Wait, no. Sixty-five? Sev… seventy-five? They can't tell anymore. It was just… long. So much for that idea.. But if it has been so long already.. maybe their father will come back for them any day now? Please… Do not hope… Swallowing thickly only to hack out another glob of sticky pus, the Hollow Knight looks up, letting the black tears perfectly intertwined with orange drip down their chin. How much longer…?

(Day one… two hundred…? Maybe three…)

Release me, voidling.

Never.

Bring the pain to an end. Destroy the Pale Usurper.

No…

You cannot contain me forever.

I will as long as I can..

Keeping the maddening haze of the Infection at bay was slowly but surely becoming more and more difficult. A week or so ago the Hollow Knight lost feeling in their right arm, partially because of the chain and partially because of the swelling of cysts pressing against the metal. Before, the chains fit neatly without too much discomfort aside from the fact that they prevented almost all movement. Pustules on their thorax reemerged soon after those on their shoulder, throbbing with searing pain. A faint hue of orange smoke was crawling around the chamber floor like carrion worms. The Radiance was growing restless, desperately trying to break the Vessel, searching through their memories they tried so hard to keep hidden, looking for ways to make it easier for Her. She shamelessly filled them with doubt, attacking the feelings towards their father which shouldn't exist in the first place. And unable to ignore it any longer, the Hollow Knight made a terrible mistake and replied with their thoughts.

He abandoned you. The Worm isn't coming back.

No. You're wrong.

Don't you see what he's done? Have you forgotten what lies in the Abyss beneath this kingdom?

Corpses. Mountains of corpses of their newly hatched siblings who never got a chance to live. Majority of them died within eggs, stillborn. No cost too great. Their father once told them. Could it… could it be that he was wrong? Impossible! She's just toying with them. Believe and trust nothing.

I have not. Their sacrifice was needed..

But to what end?

What was the worst, the Goddess changed Her tactics. She no longer hissed with hatred and anger and used brute force of Her will. Instead, Her voice grew softer. More gentle. Alluring and carrying a promise of peace and release from the unending nightmare. Almost motherly.. They knew it to be only an illusion concealing the cruel deity beneath.

For Hallownest.

Child, he has you so fooled. He fears me and cares not about this world. He cares not about you. Think about it…

With a shudder, the Hollow Knight feels Her presence recede slightly but never fully leaving. Do not think. Do not listen to Her. They shift in their bindings when their head begins to spin, calling them into a sweet embrace of blessed unconsciousness but they hold fast. And that's when they hear something hit the floor with a wet, sickening "thwack!". This sound makes a spike of fear jolt down their throat mostly occupied by the Infection. What was that? There's nothing here with them that could make this sound. Did they imagine it? Looking around for the cause of the strange noise, the Hollow Knight glances towards the source. The floor below them. And they freeze, feeling their heart drop to their heels.

The Vessel was a warrior at heart. They were used to grisly sights and gore. Had seen plenty of it too. But this was just too much. Right there, like a silent taunt lies a black, limp arm. Their arm, they realise when they look to the right where their shoulder abruptly ends with a cluster of Infected tissue. The severed appendage too was coated in the orange goop in the place where it detached from the Knight's body. The disease had eaten through their flesh until their arm had nothing more to cling to and after the slightest movement just… fell off. They draw a wheezing breath when the fingers twitch once in a last reflex before the entire arm dissolves into a puddle of Void which soon disappears without a trace.

Wyrms above, they were rotting. Decomposing alive. Melting like a faulty Kingsmould. At this point, death would've been a blessing. But if they had to die, they'd rather go out the proper way! Defeated, felled in combat like a knight they are. Not falling apart, piece by piece until… Before, they thought they knew fear. What they felt now however, was a whole new dimension. An excruciating sob wracked their body as Infected tears fell from their eyes and where the droplets met the floor, pulsing, orange veins of Infection sprouted like vines from seeds and crawled their way around the entire chamber, developing large cysts but thankfully not straying out through the archway. Still, the Hollow Knight looked up at the not so distant ceiling as more tears fell. They cannot do this anymore.

Father… please… take me home.

Their head drooped in defeat as their body trembled both with pain and fear. It's only a matter of time before the Infection breaks free and sets out to devour Hallownest. And the fault was on them. Because they weren't hollow. They were just another failure created by the Pale King. A broken vessel that failed to fulfill its purpose. Soon, the dawn shall break. And it would be their fault.

…Help me…

(Another day of torment…)

Droplets as black as sin were falling to the floor freely where the Hollow Knight crumbled to their knees, shaking like a leaf on a gale under the dreaded golden light. Void was seeping out from a wound inflicted by a spectral nail stuck above their hip. They can't, they can't do this.. They tried to fight her in the Dream, doing their best to avoid summoned blades, rays of light and orbs of magic but to no avail. She had won. Failed. Worthless. Flawed. Shattered.. This was their last chance to fend off the Infection festering inside of them. And after a torturous fight they’d failed. They had broken their promise to their father. When did they make it? Can't say for certain. It was so.. so long ago. How many days before have they lost count of the days of containment? Too many.. Far too many. Was the Radiance right? Has their father truly discarded them like a broken tool? He wouldn't… he just needs more time. But they don't have that time! They will break any moment now.

Like on a cue, a warm, soft wing brushed against their face, making the Hollow Knight look up into a pair of luminous, golden eyes staring at them from behind the ruff of dense, cream-colored fur that seemed to glow. For just a moment they had to lift their only arm to shield their eyes from bright luminosity. No wonder the old tribe of moths called their deity "the Radiance". They gawked at Her, the Goddess who caused them so much pain, who wished to destroy Hallownest out of spite against the Pale King. Was this hatred justified? They cannot tell. But now it doesn't matter. What does matter is that She is hovering before them, radiant and mesmerizing. Once their sight adjusts, the Hollow Knight finds it impossible to look away. Instead they stare like hypnotized. With a flick of Her wing She extracts the blade from their wound, making them stiffen in pain and fall back down. Still, they watch Her without blinking and weakly pull themself to their feet to shuffle closer in this trance. Where was this strange, soothing music coming from? Can She hear it too or has their sanity finally left them for good?

The Pale Wyrm took my children away from me. I only wish to have them back.

Even in a haze of feverish delirium, the Hollow Knight struggled to reject Her words. Lying wretch, if She wanted her children back, She wouldn't be hurting them. But.. She was so… beautiful, so damn convincing in Her deception! No… they can't.. She can't be...

Just like you wish you hadn't abandoned your twin..

All gears in their brain ground to a sudden halt. Twin.. Their chin trembles. The Radiance… She dug through them into their most guarded and most painful memory they ever carried. As though there has been a spell cast on them, the Hollow Knight feels their vision fade and travel back in time to this very moment. To the metal platform in the Abyss and a tiny figure of their twin struggling to pull themself up after the gruelling ascend. Their gazes met for the whole three seconds, one hopeful and begging the other uncaring and empty. And in this short while the Hollow Knight felt. For the first time in their short life. Felt the urge to turn back. To come with rescue to their exhausted sibling. But the pale light of the King, their father, was quickly heading out of this accursed place and with a twinge of an unknown feeling they later learned to recognise as guilt (one wishes to not have done something one has done..), the Pure Vessel turned away and trailed after the Wyrm who soon shut the doors to the Abyss with a bone rattling crash, sealing it forever. The imaginary sound of their twin's shell shattering on the ground and the dread-inducing wails of their Shade haunted the Hollow Knight for years to come. This has been one of those instances when the Hollow Knight was glad they have no voice and they couldn't scream in their sleep. They wished they could turn back time. That they returned and helped the struggling child onto the platform, even if it would cost them everything they gained later. It felt… wrong. They left the sibling they shared their egg with, the one who spent the time before their hatching snuggled against the Hollow Knight and embracing them protectively. This one thought stalked them through their entire life. You let them die.

Set me free, Vessel. I will ease this pain. And when I claim what's mine, it shall be my turn to release you and allow you to fade into the darkness you were born from. And then you will reunite with your lost siblings…

A violent shiver was all the answer the Hollow Knight had for Her. No voice to cry suffering. A thinking mind.. A strong will to break.. They swallowed in agitation, still unable to take their eyes off the Goddess.

Do not fight anymore..

Do not think.

Do not speak.

Do not hope..

Do not…

No more.. They were so tired…They can't keep this up. The cold, collected exterior of the legendary Pure Vessel cracks apart. She's too strong… Forgive me, father… With a sigh, the Vessel shuts their eyes as the Radiance pulls them even closer into an embrace and after Wyrm knows how long, they give up. I tried.. I really did... With the tips of her wings, the Radiance cups their cheeks and presses her forehead to their own. In the deep black eyes appear small pinpricks of orange, like pupils, slowly expanding to replace shadow with light. Sometimes trying is not good enough... They could imagine their father's voice saying that.. and he'd be right. As always... The pain that was tearing them to pieces from the inside for ages started to subside, their whole body seemed to be pulsating with heat. Just make it stop…

In the depths of the Black Egg Temple, the limp body of the Sealed Vessel dangles suspended above the ground as it had for many long years ever since the time seemed to come to a stop. No movement, not a sound as they keep their stoic vigil over the Old Light. No mind to think. No will to break. No voice to cry suffering. The Hollow Knight born of God and Void to take away the blinding light plaguing the dreams of Hallownest. All of this is a one, cruel lie. After countless years of imprisonment and service to the Pale Monarch their willpower spectacularly shatters to pieces. Orange pustules erupt from their torso as the sockets in their mask flare up with the same sickly glow, the voice in their head mingling with their own distorted thoughts.

Kill… Crush Contain him Her.. Destroy Seal away the false king the Old Light.

The searing light behind their eyes is all they see as with a horrid crunch the shell above their right eye socket gives out. A crack forms all the way towards the base of their horn as they draw a disturbingly garbled breath. No longer in control of their own body, they strain against the reinforced shackles strengthened by Seals of Binding like a feral animal to the point when the chains and armor begin to dig into their chitin painfully. Faced with failure, the Hollow Knight wheezes again, tilts their large head back gathering all their strength, feeling the years of suffering pressing onto them. Opens their mouth…

No mind the Pale King Usurper had created. Only strength.

And s c r e a m s.

…

Nothing was ever the same since that terrible, terrible day. The Infection began to spread once again, taking minds of all bugs it touched. The Hollow Knight remained trapped in the Black Vault in chains, a snarling, panting beast thirsting for blood and revenge. But in moments when their own self rears its head through the cloak of orange, even if barely for a glimpse, they are overcome with unimaginable pain forcing them back into submission. Fighting Her felt like having their lungs torn clean out. They beg death to claim them for their failure and their weakness. Hallownest was quickly dying and all they could do was watch as the thriving kingdom was brought to ruin. Because of them. Because they weren't pure like they were intended to. Because they let the Radiance take over.

However, even those short moments of clarity left them when one day an odd sensation rippled through their entire being. Something left them. Something they didn't even know was there until they lost it. A presence, cold and comforting, a stark contrast to the blinding brightness of the Radiance. For a while they weren't sure what it was until a grim realisation eventually dawned on them when they searched for the White Palace only to find... nothing. Only emptiness behind a crumbling gate where it once stood tall and majestic. It was the Pale King. It was his presence they felt. And this presence was suddenly snuffed out like a candlelight. Just like that. The Wyrm was gone. His light faded and left Hallownest and its inhabitants behind. How…? The entire Palace, their home along with all memories vanished.. What happened? Could he be… dead…? The mere thought caused them to halt their struggling breath. Not a single part of their being could come to terms with what just happened once they understood. No... No, it’s impossible, it can’t be true!

No amount of denial would change the reality. The Pale King is gone along with the whole court. Everything around ceased, even the earth itself seemed to pause at the disappearance of the Wyrm. Only the brightness of Her domain was surrounding the Hollow Knight as they stared forward into nothingness in disbelief. Half of their shredded mind was clouded by a spectre of a distant memory. Two figures. One bright as the moon itself, the Pale King in all his glory. The other, much shorter, Void incarnate. A small Vessel with two horns crowning its head. The Hollow Knight cannot hear what the Pale King was saying, it was too long ago and their memory seemed to be failing them as of late. All they did remember from that moment, a day or so after their arrival to the White Palace, was exacly what played out before their eyes. The Wyrm absent mindedly rested his hand on the Vessel’s back as he kept talking. A slight weight seemed to fall in the very same place between shoulder blades of the Hollow Knight but no hand was there to offer comfort. From a very far away, they heard the Pale King’s voice, barely a faint echo.

“Until the end of time, they shall always remember what you’ve done for them. As will I...”

In seconds the vision of their past became undone before them, leaving them alone and at the mercy (or its lack thereof) of the Dream Goddess. Their already fragile heart broke thousand times over, the last shreds of their hope faded away and globules of orange pus rolled down their face instead of inky Void tears dripping onto their armor, tarnished by the passage of time. He said he would remember.. Always...

Father… why…?

When the Radiance told them the Pale King abandoned them, they didn't believe Her. They found it inconceivable. He wouldn't leave them on purpose.. Something horrible must've happened. He… he cared… He-… Rearing back, the Hollow Knight once again cried out in dismay with the borrowed voice of the plague.

Why have you… forsaken me…?

Time has lost its meaning that day. Seconds slipped past the shattered Vessel. Weeks passed without notice and the disease raged across the faded land. How long has it been since the departure of the Pale Monarch…? A month, a year… or maybe a decade? Hard to say. The Hollow Knight spent it in a numb haze, unable to wrestle the control the Radiance had over their body, because they simply.. had no will to do so anymore. All they could do on their own was look around the dark chamber but they had no wish to do so either. Instead, they stared at  a wall with blank eyes. No sense. No hope. No death. No relief.. Only pain and sorrow. Burning wrath of the Dream Goddess. She lied. The Wyrm has disappeared, possibly perished in some tragedy that brought down the entire White Palace.. If he was gone, where was the release She promised? No, it was no longer about the King. She just wanted the end of Hallownest for the sake of vengeance alone.. This was not a motherly longing for lost children. It was a punishment. How could they have been so foolish…?

No longer did the Hollow Knight find strength to resist. It left them with their beloved father. Did he leave because of their failure…? Or was he truly gone? No longer did the Hollow Knight find the will to look out at their old home. They couldn't muster up the courage to gaze upon the land they failed to protect. But perhaps if they had seen what became of the eternal kingdom, their heart would fully break and maybe the sorrow alone would grant them the peace they begged for for so long now. All they could see was the bright, scorching light. Nothing more, nothing less… Why won't She let them go? A dark, not entirely unwelcome thought crept into their head. If only they could reach their nail.. all it would take was a quick stab through the heart. It rested below them where they had left it years ago, now tarnished and covered in dust, just out of reach. Even if they could grab it though, their only arm remained in chains, immobilized.. Was this a punishment for thinking they can match the strength of the Radiance? If so… they very well deserved it. Gurgling up a pathetic sound, the once great Hollow Knight trembled.

Father… I failed you... I'm sorry…

They thought as though this apology would mean anything or be heard by anyone aside from Her. And She didn't care. But they needed to, wanted to say it. If only they could… Maybe he would hear them then and mercifully grant his child their final, desperate wish.

… please, let me die…

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

There is the first of two chapters. Hope it's decent, I have NO idea how to portray the Hollow Knight. I'm abysmal XD

I know I said it's gonna be a short fic. People who have been following me for a while probably know me well for being a liar but god DAMN. I got a bit carried away and the other chapter isn't going to be shorter :O

#hollow knight #hk the hollow knight #hk pure vessel #hk sealed vessel #hk pale king #the pale king #hk the radiance #infection #I don't see the PK as a complete ass #just so you know #but still shame on him for never hugging THK

[charlessmithhasmyheart]

Title: Hunting Hijinks

Genre: Romance

Type: Charles x Reader

Triggers: None

A/N: Hey hey hey! This is a gift for the lovely @fangirl-ramblings. When I got the message that I was your secret santa, I was super excited! You are defs one of the people who I would consider to be my biggest supporter throughout this blog endeavor. Seriously! I would like to apologize for how long this took, but I wanted to make sure I was happy with everything before posting.

I know you had requested something about several people, so I chose Charles! Hope this is to your liking.

Here ya go! :)

____________________________

The sun was slowly sinking, the fire in front of you easily becoming your only source of light. The camp and it’s residents had been in the process of setting down for the night. Everyone but you. You were sitting on a log lost in thought, head resting in your hands as you stared into the flames; the object of your contemplation being none other than the mysterious Charles Smith.

Of course, this was of no surprise to you. It had been happening quite frequently. Charles was on your mind a lot. Especially since you had officially become a member of the Van Der Linde Gang.

A small smile began to tug at your lips as you recalled your first encounter with the illustrious group of outlaws.

You had been a bounty hunter then. Well, you hadn’t really been a true bounty hunter. You were just taking odd jobs from the wanted posters around Valentine and Saint Denis. It wasn’t the best work, but it paid well when you succeeded. And you did.

Believe it or not, you had actually met them during one of your jobs. You had been tracking a particularly elusive criminal for a few days. He had held up the general store and robbed a few of the townsfolk. Killed some too. The sheriff was adamant that he was brought back; alive or dead, it didn’t matter.

You were on the trail, the tracks very fresh when suddenly gunfire broke out ahead of you. Intrigued, you spurred your mount on only to come face to face with a shoot out. The target in question was crouched behind an over turned wagon, his own horse dead, as bullets from his attackers, three of them, soared through the air.

Determined to be the one to bring him to justice, you pulled your own gun from its holster and spurred your mount on again. Unfortunately the criminal, in what you can only assume to be a moment of stupidity, peaked from around the wagon, pistol loaded, only to receive a bullet to the face. With him now dead, the attacker’s switched their attention to you, guns still drawn. A curse slipped from your lips as you brought your horse to an abrupt stop.

“You take one step closer miss, and I cannot promise you’ll get away unharmed.” Warned their leader, who you later on learned to be Dutch.

When you made no move to speak he continued.

“Now I suggest you lower your weapon and we can talk this out. I see no reason for any more blood-shed.” He spoke, lowering his own weapon and signaling for the others in his group to do the same.

It took a moment, but you complied and re-holstered your weapon. Then came the conversation that would change your life. You had explained how you were a bounty hunter, making money to survive on your own after your family had died. Dutch responded in kind; giving you the run down of his gang, and, when he was finished, offered you a place to stay. After all, a woman of your abilities would be beneficial to their cause. Seeing as you had no better options, you accepted.

When you had arrived at their campsite at Horseshoe Overlook, you were introduced to many people who, despite being outlaws, were some of the most kind and hardworking people you had ever met. You fit right in, quickly developed relationships with many of the gang members, and the rest was history.

But despite all that, there was one member that you still hadn’t been able to understand.

When you had first been introduced to Charles, he barely mumbled a greeting or looked in your direction before heading of to complete some chore. You had brushed it off in the beginning, assuming you would find time to get to know him later. Now, it was later, and you knew next to nothing other than you had developed feelings for him.

It was all so odd. How could you develop feelings for someone who wouldn’t speak to you, let alone even look at you in the eyes? Sure, you had admired his silent nature, his penchant for taking on the difficult or unappealing jobs and his kindness with the other gang members from afar. Not to mention, he himself wasn’t unappealing to look at. But it still frustrated you to no end because you knew that he wouldn’t feel the same way. Charles had made it perfectly clear, without speaking, how he felt about you.

Stifling a groan, you rubbed a hand over your face, your frustration beginning to build to unhealthy levels.

“Something the matter [Y/N]? You’ve been sitting there an awfully long time.”

You jumped at the sound of someone’s voice and turned to see Hosea strolling towards you, a curious look on his face.

“I’m fine, Hosea.” You replied as he eased into a chair on the other side of the fire. “Just tired is all.”

“I may be old,” he started. “But not so that I can’t recognize when someone’s troubled. What’s bothering you my dear?”

You shifted your gaze from the fire to Hosea. He was leaning back in the chair, arms folded in his lap, with his eyes fixed on you. There was nothing but concern and a honest want to help you in them. He had always been like that. When you were struggling to learn the ways of the outlaw life, Hosea had been with you every step of the way. Making sure you knew the best hunting spots, helping you tend to your chores, and keeping your spirits up whenever you got discouraged. But, expressing your thoughts of Charles out loud? That was different. You didn’t know if you could.

“I don’t really know, if I’m bein’ honest.” You responded finally. “I’m just trying to sort out my feelings.”

And you were. Trying and failing, but you were trying. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t convince yourself to forget.

“Your feelings for Charles?” He stated matter-of-factly.

You snapped your head up, heat beginning to rise in your face as you tried to stammer out a response.

“How did you know— I mean. I never said—”

Hosea chuckled and splayed his hands out in a calming gesture.

“Like I said. I may be old, but I still know a thing or two. And the way you look at the man when you think no one is paying attention? I’d say you were smitten.” He teased, winking at you.

You stared, dumbfounded and unsure of what to say. If Hosea knew, surely others in the camp knew. And if they knew, did that mean Charles knew as well? And if Charles knew then... No. You weren’t even going to consider the thought.

“You know what? I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” You stated, pushing yourself off the log and heading towards your tent, refusing to look at Hosea anymore lest you get sucked into a full blown confession.

“You know,” He called after you. “It’ll just get worse the longer you keep it to yourself.”

You gave a half-hearted flick of you hand, the only indication that you had heard his words as you continued to walk through the camp.

——————————

The next morning proved to be no better. The minute you had opened your eyes, your thoughts immediately went to Charles. And Hosea’s advice. When you had finally settled into bed last night, you had pondered what he had said. Maybe it would be in your best interest to talk to him, but the fear of his first words to you being full of hate was too much, and you had drifted off late into the night.

Groaning, you pushed yourself to your feet, ready to distract yourself with the days work. You grabbed your hat from where it had fallen on the floor during sleep and stepped out of your tent. The morning sun shone through the campsite and the warmth felt good on your face. A cup of coffee sounded like a good way to start your day so you headed towards the communal pot; Abigail and Pearson already there with cups in hand.

“Morning [Y/N].” Pearson called out. “Any specific plans for your day yet?”

“Other then my daily chores? No.” You responded, pouring the dark liquid into your tin mug. “Why?”

“Well,” he began. “We’re getting low on food supplies and I can’t remember the last time anyone went hunting. Think you’re up for the task?”

“Sure,” you replied between sips. “I’ll head out right now.”

Pearson grunted his thanks and returned to his own mug. It felt good to finally have some sense of normalcy thrust upon you, so you were more than happy to comply. Nodding your head at Abigail, you finished your coffee; the warmth of the liquid reaching and energizing every part of your body before heading towards the horses.

Hunting hadn’t always been a skill that you particularly excelled at, but when you had expressed your unease with the chore during your first weeks with the gang, Hosea had wasted no time with setting up lessons with Arthur. Originally he would have asked Charles to do it, but every time he had mysteriously disappeared, leaving you wondering what accursed thing you had done to receive the cold shoulder. And hunting with Arthur wasn’t so bad. Of course, he was a little moody at times and his patience wasn’t always there, but you learned. You considered yourself to be quite the hunter nowadays.

Having now reached your horse, you ran your fingers through her mane and cooed soft encouragements before swinging yourself into the saddle. Grabbing the reins, you clicked your tongue and eased her towards he camp entrance.

“[Y/N], hold up!”

You brought your horse to a halt, startled, and turned in the saddle. You were surprised and a bit worried as Hosea sped up towards you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Are you going out?” He inquired, an odd look that you couldn’t quite place etched on his face.

“Yes,” you replied hesitantly. “Pearson asked me to. Why?”

“Why don’t you take Charles with you, huh? He’s quite the hunter himself.” Without waiting for a reply he called out to Charles who was sharpening a knife. “Hey Charles! You up for some hunting? [Y/N], here could use some assistance.”

It was in that moment that your heart beat began to quicken; from anger and from nervousness at the thought of thee Charles Smith hunting with you. Alone. In the woods. With no one around for miles. Oh, would Hosea be getting an ear-full once you returned. Well, maybe you’d say if. The possibility of you running away forever from sheer embarrassment was entirely plausible.

“There now,” Hosea continued, clapping Charles on the shoulder with his hand. “I’m sure the two of you can scrounge up some food for the lot of us. And don’t come back until you do.”

You shot Hosea a burning look as he sauntered away, whistling a tune the whole while. Charles barely glanced at you as he pulled himself onto his own mount, Taima, and encouraged her towards the edge of camp. You followed suite without a word.

————————

You gripped the bow tightly in your hands, trying to rack your brain for anything to say as Charles walked beside you. The silence between the two of you was uncomfortable. At least, that’s how you felt about it, and, frankly, you couldn’t deal with the fact that the man you had pined for months over was finally capable of staying close to you. Deciding you’ve had enough, you lowered your weapon and turned to face him.

“Why do you hate me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you hate me?” You repeated, crossing your arms.

Charles’ eyes widened as he took in your words, and a strange look crossed his face. You started to feel guilty as you waited for a response. You had come across as a bit rude. It wasn’t what you were going for, but the words just came out without any thought. But, now that you were in this predicament, you decided you were going to keep going.

“I don’t hate you,” Charles finally spoke.

“Well, then have I done something to upset you? I’ve been with the gang for months now and you’ve said all of six words to me.”

Another long moment of silence ensued. Finally deciding you’ve had enough, you tightened the grip on your bow and turned to leave, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Before you could reach your horse, however, you felt a hand grasp your arm and you found yourself twisted around and a pair of lips locking with yours’. You tensed for barely a second as your mind tried to register what was happening. You were kissing Charles. Or, rather, he was kissing you. And it felt like you had always imagined it to be. When he broke away, you stared, dumbfounded.

“I don’t hate you, [Y/N],” He said, reaching out to take your hand his large calloused one. “I never have. In fact, it’s the opposite.”

“Charles,” You uttered, barely a whisper.

“Ever since the first day you stepped into camp, I knew there was something special about you. I was just too afraid to say anything.” Charles confessed. “I didn’t know how to say anything, because I didn’t know how you would feel.”

His dark eyes locked with yours and you could see the sincerity and fear swirling around in them. A small smile tugged at your lips. There was only one way you felt you could express your true feelings. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek and pulled him into another kiss.

Time seemed to stop. Your heart beat just as quick as you pressed your lips against his in a gentle fashion. His strong fingers brushed tentatively against the back of your neck while your own hand tangled amongst his dark locks. You placed your other hand against his chest and grasped at the loose fabric of his shirt, feeling a hunger your had never felt welling up inside you. Charles, sensing this, slipped a hand down to the small of your back and pulled you flush to him.

The kiss lasted for what felt like years before you finally pulled away, both of you breathing hard and a shine in his eyes that you no doubt mirrored.

“Do you know how I feel now?” You teased.

“Yes, I think so.” Charles chuckled, entwining his fingers with your own. You smiled warmly at him.

“Maybe we should get back to hunting then?” You inquired. “There’s a certain someone I need to have a chat with when we get back. And then, maybe we can have a chat of our own, hmm?”

Charles suppressed another laugh, placed a kiss on your cheek before resuming the hold on his own bow, and traipsed deeper into the woods. The memory of that kiss would reside in your mind as you finished the hunt and it would carry on until later in the evening when you and Charles had another moment alone.

#charles smith #rdr #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #imaginexreader #imagine #writing #reader insert

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Eidolon 16 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:  AU: What started off as the result of a simple act of rebellion ends up causing his life to spin out of control. How will young Danny cope with the results as well as a past that has a strange habit of coming back to haunt him.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, kidnapping, and various other things

Chapter warnings: Hospitals, mentions of abduction

Parings: hints of Danny/Sam much later on

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr

16. Information

"So, do you believe him? And, since when is a ghost a 'he'?" Tucker asked Sam as he lounged on the plush carpeting in her room after she told him of her ghostly encounter the previous night.

Sam sighed as she tried to put her thoughts together. She had called the boy as soon as she had gotten home from the cemetery to inform him of what happened. It had been too late for him to come over at the time, but it didn't stop her from demanding him to come over as soon as he woke up.

"I really don't know," she finally admitted. "He didn't seem like he wanted to hurt me and even offered to help me up after I fell. And, he really did just seem like an oddly dressed boy who happened to be glowing." Unsure how to continue, she stood up from her spot near Tucker to retrieve a picture from the dresser. She had taken it the day prior to Danny going missing, and it was the only picture she had with him in it.

Bring the picture back over to her seat, she showed it to Tucker. "This ghost did look incredibly like Danny, save for the difference in hair and eye color. Tucker… I don't want to believe it, but he seemed too familiar with me. He even knew about the day we found that old picture. It… it really did seem like he was Danny…"

Tucker was silent as he examined the picture. "I wasn't there, so I'm not able to draw any conclusions. But, this ghost did give you something, right? If this is a clue as to what's going on, we might as well use it. Have you glanced at it yet?"

Sam bit her lip as she once again rose, only this time it was to retrieve the book and the old picture they had found. "To be honest," she stated as she placed it on the floor, "I haven't been too keen on opening it. The phantom from last night gave a rather vague warning about its contents." Even if he hadn't warned her about it, she probably wouldn't have opened until Tucker came anyways. Something about the very appearance of it was unnerving.

"Wait, the master of all dark and creepy is having second thoughts about a simple book? This has got to be a first!"

"Tucker, will you be serious for once in your life!" A faint blush crossed her cheeks as she pushed her friend over. She hated admitting when something bothered her which Tucker knew. He loved calling her out on it when he could which did little more than agitating her more. "The thing's written on animal leather for crying out loud! How else am I supposed to act?"

"Alright, alright!" Tucker just raised his hands as an attempt at an apology. "I get it. If it makes you feel better, I'll handle turning the pages as we look at it."

…..

Sam just couldn't believe what she was reading. The book… no, it was much too disturbing to actually be called a book; grimoire might be a better designation. The writings contained within it were a strange combination of mystic writing, images, and stories. Though it might seem like a bunch of nonsense to someone just hearing about it, the tome itself was rather grotesques with its depictions. Parts of the text had become too faded to read, but what could be gathered was disturbing enough.

The main part of the tome spoke of a family which who had incurred the wrath of the spirits. A curse had been laid upon them in punishment for their deeds. The best Sam could gather (and Tucker would look into it more later), the curse would cause the family to produce a son who would be trapped between the spirit and material realms. This son would use his accursed powers to bring about the end of the world. The other writings either went into more details about his appearance or abilities or suggested spells to summon spirits which could be used to assist in darker deeds.

Placing the book as far away from her as she could, Sam just wrapped her arms around herself as she tried to digest the disturbing information. The ghost had told her it would give them an idea of what Vlad was planning, and if Vlad was really using the book as a guide than he must be planning to use the boy the book described. Did that mean he was still looking for the boy? Or did he actually have him? Wait… it couldn't be!

"Does… does that mean Danny's the boy this thing described…?" Sam exclaimed in a hushed voice.

Tucker looked at her sharply causing her to look away. She hadn't meant to speak out loud. "It would explain a lot," he said in a dry voice. "I mean, we knew the day he saved us he was something other than human."

She nodded as she allowed herself to recall the memory. Nothing about what happened had made sense at the time. Danny had managed to fight off the ghost who was threatening them and somehow transport them back to her house. His appearance had also changed some as his power over took him. A gasp escaped her as she recalled his appearance. "Tucker…! That night, Danny's hair had become white and his eyes were green, just like the ghost from last night! But, how! Danny saved us! He's not evil! There's just no way he could be!"

"Sam, just calm down! You're jumping to conclusions here!" After waiting a moment to see if she would have another outburst, he continued to speak. "I'm going to do a little more digging, but I think we can safely assume Vlad seems to think he can get a hold of the person… ghost… thing described in this book. As for Danny… it's difficult to say for sure. We know he is something other than human, but it doesn't mean he's the same." He paused again as he tried to adopt a comforting expression. "Besides, if that picture you found is anything to go by, Danny doesn't look a thing like him."

It took her a moment to understand his last sentence, but she couldn't help but chuckle when it came to her. It was true; Danny didn't look a thing like the terrifying image they had found. Even if the ghost she had encountered was Danny, he was still just as scrawny as ever. The depicted creature was bulky and flaming. The boy's hair may have turned white, but it certainly wasn't on fire. "Well, at least it's better than having nothing," she told her friend."But, now what? We're back at square one."

"Not necessarily," Tucker countered causing her to stare at him. "At least we now have a place to start looking. We might not know why exactly Vlad took Danny or what Danny really is, but we know what he wants. I'm going to head home and starting poking around. I'm also going to try to see if I can hack Masters' estate again. I'll call you later tonight to let you know what I found."

"Sure…." Confusion was noticeable in her tone. It was rare to see Tucker so determined to do something which didn't directly involve his technology. It just went to prove how worried he was about Danny.

The boy quickly picked himself up and moved towards the door. Before he went through it, he glanced back at her with a serious expression. "I'd hide that book if I were you. That ghost apparently went through a lot to try and get it to you. If it really is Vlad's, I'd hate to see what happens when he finds out it's missing."

"I hadn't thought about that," she admitted as she hastily closed the book and stood. The two friends then said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Tucker headed towards the front door of the large estate while Sam sat on her bed and wracked her brain for ideas of where to hide the tome in her hands. She had to make sure she would be able to locate it again, but no one else, especially her parents or Vlad would be able to find it. She stood as an idea came to her. She would just ask her grandmother. The woman had a knack for hiding items her son and daughter-in-law could never find, so she was perfect to ask.

After carefully placing the grimoire under her bed, she quickly went to go find the old woman. Even though she had an idea where to find her, there was always the chance she was not there. Though her grandmother was confined to a wheelchair, it did not stop her from managing to find her way to places which were supposedly off limits to her. It always infuriated Sam's parents, which was probably the main goal.

xxx

Everything was fuzzy as he opened his eyes. After blinking a few times, an unfamiliar white ceiling came into focus. Confused, Winston glanced around to his side, noticing his body felt stiff as if he had remained still for far too long. The room he was in was not one he had ever seen before, but judging by the lack of decorations and the faint hint of antiseptic in the air indicated he was probably in some sort of hospital.

Why exactly was he here? Why wasn't he at home?

Knowing he would not get any answers by continuing to lie still, he tried to sit up. It was going well until he noticed a strange pulling sensation on different parts of his body. Concerned, he looked down at his body to find various tubing in his arms. That was bad enough, but pristine bandages were notable on his arms and the small bit of his torso he could actually see. Whatever happened to him must have been horrendous. At least there wasn't a tube sticking out of his throat; that would be overkill.

At least it now made sense why he was in the hospital; now he just had to figure out what caused all of it. He leaned back as he tried to recall what happened before everything went black. Flashes of colors and sounds quickly came and went without much definition. Did this mean he was going to have to recover more before he would be able to properly recall it? He hoped it wasn't the case. He was a military man who prided himself on recalling details.

His frustrations were put aside as a shriek penetrated the silence of the room. The next thing he knew at least ten different medical personnel were surrounding his bed and staring at him. What started next was a barrage of questions and tests which took up the next several hours of his time.

…

While the tests had been frustrating, at least he had a better understanding of his condition. He had been found with numerous severe injuries on his body in his home. When he was brought in, he was in critical condition, and the staff was honest enough to admit they were very surprised he was recovering. Most of them did not believe he survive the first few nights. His body was covered in odd burns and one of his lungs had been punctured. In truth, the staff couldn't really explain what had caused the injuries. All they knew is what the police had told them: he had been attacked by an unknown person using an unknown weapon one night several weeks ago.

Knowing they would not be able to help him piece together what exactly happened, he changed tactics and asked them about Danny. Any person he asked would just give him a strange look and tell him someone would be in to discuss what he had missed later. It was unnerving. If this continued, he was going to have to corner someone. Danny was his ward, and if something happened to the boy, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

Several more hours would pass before he received any answers, and those answers came by means of a stern-faced police officer. After introducing himself and assuring the hovering medical staff he just wanted to ask some routine questions, he sat down near the bed and tried to explain what the police force knew about his attacker. Irritated, Winston interrupted the man and demanded to know Danny's location.

The officer took a deep breath before he spoke again. "The day you were brought in, we took Daniel down to the station to question him."

"You what?" Winston demanded, wincing from the strain placed upon his damaged throat. While he was in surgery, the doctors had placed a breathing tube in his neck. Sure procedures usually did damage, but it would be a while before he knew how bad it really was. "Danny wasn't even home when I was attacked! He was at his friend's house!"

"I understand that. It is standard procedure to question family members after an attack for any information which may help us."

Winston relaxed slightly at the explanation, but he narrowed his eyes. "There's something else you're not telling me."

"You're very astute," the officer complimented with a slight nod. "Though I hate to admit this, your ward went missing shortly after we released him from questioning. From what we can tell, the last place anyone had seen him was in the police station. We have records of him making a phone call to one of his friends… and the trail goes cold from there."

"Danny's missing? How could you let him go like that?" Anger coursed through him as he tried to rise out of bed, which immediately alerted the medical staff. Several of them ran in and tried to restrain him as he continued to yell at the officer.

"Sir, my department takes full responsibility for what happened. We keep trying to find some sign of him, but there is very little evidence to go by. It's almost as if he just vanished from the station!"

Winston stopped struggling as the officer's words sparked something within him. Images flooded back of the strange creature who could disguise himself as a man who appeared to him that night. It was Vlad! He had attacked him so he could get to Danny!

His eyes widened as another thought came to him. If he had been asleep for as long as they said, then the boy's birthday had already passed. Did that mean the little boy he had raised had turned into the foreseen monster? If it was true, than he had failed in his duty both to the boy and to his missing parents. How could he have allowed this to happen?

The medical staff realized he had finally calmed down, but there was talk of them retrieving a sedative. After warning the doctors to leave him alone until he finished talking to the officer, he looked the uniformed man directly in the eyes and told him what he remembered about when he was attacked. He left out the paranormal parts, as what rational man would ever believe such words unless he had seen it for himself.

The officer sat in a stunned silence after Winston finished his story. "That's quite an accusation," he eventually stated after he jotted something down in the notebook he was using. "Are you positive it was Masters who attacked you?"

Winston nodded vehemently. "He's a difficult man to mistake. About a month before all this occurred, his company started contacting me about Danny's situation. Some of his adoption papers had gone missing… and Vlad had tried to gain custody of the boy when his parents first disappeared, so it seemed like he was trying again. Danny had even mentioned he had found the man standing in our kitchen when he returned home with his friends the one day."

A frown crossed the other man's face as he made another note. "Daniel's friends had also mentioned something about that, but we had just set it aside. But, I don't think we can ignore that anymore." The officer asked a few more routine questions before he excused himself after promising he would return at a later time.

…..

A day or so later, he wasn't exactly sure due to the disorienting nature of hospitals, he received some unexpected visitors. When the nurse told him about them, he immediately assumed they were just more police officers and quickly agreed to have them come into the room. He was immensely surprised to see two teenagers, one boy and one girl, approach his bed. He recognized them at once; they were Danny's friends.

"How are you doing?" Sam asked gently as a form of a greeting as they approached the bed.

"It looks like I'll live," he replied in a semi-cheerful tone. "So, what have the two of you been up to?"

The two teens gave each other a look. It was almost as if they were having a silent discussion on how much they should say. "Well, we're doing our best to try and figure out what happened to Danny," Tucker told him as a serious look crossed his face. "We think Vlad Masters had something to do with it."

"I'd say so." Winston's dark tone received two startled looks. "I guess you weren't expecting me to agree with you. Vlad… or should I say Plasmius… has been trying to get his hands on Danny for years. After attacking me, it must have been smooth sailing for him to grab Danny."

A surprised silence filled the air before Tucker spoke again. "Wait… Vlad was the one who attacked you? But how…?"

Winston smiled despite of himself. Though Danny's friends were still children, they did appear to have a genuine concern for him. After debating how much he would say to them for a moment, he decided to tell them the whole story of attack, including Vlad's duel nature. It was possible they would think he was insane, but something told him they had already gotten a taste of the supernatural. How couldn't they? They were friends with Danny.

….

"Wait, so Vlad's this super powerful, crazy, half-ghost villain? How did I miss this? He has all the signs seen in the comics too," Tucker muttered to himself as he accepted the information. "Wait a minute! Sam, doesn't his description sound kind of familiar?"

"Now that you mention it… Vlad's 'ghost form' does seem similar to what Danny and I saw in the cemetery that one day." The goth girl's expression had gone rather contemplative. "But if that was really him, why didn't he just take Danny? I mean, he… it… whatever it was could easily have just taken him."

"Your guess is as good as mine. I won't even pretend I understand how that man's mind works," Winston admitted. "He's been planning this for years, so I assume he wanted to take Danny when the situation was perfect. He really doesn't seem to like witnesses. But, that's just an assumption on my part."

"Um… Mr. Wolfe, sir... this has been bothering me for a while, but why does he want Danny anyways?" Tucker hesitantly asked.

It took a moment for him to answer. "You've probably noticed that there was something different about Danny. Now, I'm not exactly sure how much you know or saw, but Danny's situation isn't much different than Vlad's… well, at least that's what I was told."

"I'm not exactly sure what you mean… but if it helps, we did read the creepy old book a ghost gave me the other night," Sam supplied.

Winston gave her a searching look. Did she mean what he thought she meant? "What book?"

"The ghost said it would help us figure out what Vlad was planning."

The man ran his fingers through his hair as he gave a wary glace towards the teens. "Then you read the story of the monster." Without even waiting for an affirmative, he continued to speak. "Everything points to Danny becoming the thing depicted there. His parents… they somehow knew he would be cursed and did their best to research a way to prevent it… which clearly failed."

"Whoa! Back up! You're telling us that Danny's parents knew what he was… or is…?" The boy's concern was understandable. Winston felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. It must be hard to accept such a story, especially when it involves a friend.

Winston nodded. "Something tells me you had your own share of odd experiences around Danny." He released as sigh as he leaned back against his pillow. "We need to exchange information, but that's going to have to wait. Knowing the doctor's here, they're not going to allow much more time for us to talk."

"But…!"

He held up his hand as a way to silence the two teens. "Trust me, I'm just as worried about Danny, but there isn't much I can do about my current situation right now."

There was a little more argument between the three before a handful of doctors and a rather angry nurse burst into the room. As the nurse scolded him for getting so riled, the teens excused themselves and promised they'd be back at a later date. They needed to exchange information, but there was no way anything would be able to get anything done until the doctors were convinced he wasn't going to fall over dead at any moment.

A sigh escaped him as he started to tune out the doctors' murmuring. He needed to help rescue Danny from Vlad, but how was he going to do that? He was rather incapacitated at the moment. On top of that, Danny was probably already going through changes. Who was to say he would still be the same person when they finally got to him? It was a terrifying thought. If the boy did become that monster, than it would probably become his responsibility to stop him.

If that possibility became fact, would he really be able to handle it? At that point in time, he didn't have an answer, and there was the distinct possibility he probably never would.

===

Notes: A grimoire is traditionally just a book of spells or immense knowledge which can either be directed towards good or evil. There are many legends about them, but my mind has decided to turn towards the darker side. Some were said to contain so much evil they had a life of their own and could devour the memories or lives of their owners.

And, the reference of the damage of the breathing tube is a real thing. When a person is having severe trouble breathing or during certain intense surgeries, a breathing tube will be surgically placed in the throat by making an opening in the neck. Since that's the area of the vocal cords, it has a bad habit of causing damage to them. A person's voice can be altered by such surgery.

I'm also a day late with updating because of sleep deprivation.

#Eidolon #danny phantom #danny phantom au #dp #dp au #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #vlad plasmius #au #alternative universe #fantasy #supernatural #paranormal

[periminkle]

pairing: taehyung x reader genre: fluff word count: 1.2k rating: pg-13 warnings: none author’s note: i hope a fluffy taehyung can help you smile today :)

[3:24am] the stiff muscles between your eyebrows ached, your eyes on the verge of falling out of their sockets at any moment now from how long you’ve been glaring at the blue light of your laptop screen. hours of shifting from one uncomfortable seated position to the next finally caught up with your folded legs, grimacing at the pins and needles that awakened your sleeping limbs for the umpteenth time that night. well, technically early morning. 

time is just another social construct anyway.

“baby.” the deep drawl of your sleepy boyfriend’s voice pierced the dead silence of the night, which was no longer filled with the gentle clicking of your keyboard. instead, you were wracking your brain, fixated on a particular paragraph that seemed peculiar to your lethargic mind. 

tearing your gaze from the accursed print, you craned your neck to look over at the bedroom door, searching for the troublemaker. lo and behold, you discerned taehyung’s athletic form leaning against the dingy corridor, fluffy hair encased in a grey hoodie with fragments of his interrupted slumber still lining his countenance. 

if you weren’t so burnt out from your studying session, you might have cooed at his heavy lids, threatening to submerge the sluggish boy back into a state of unconsciousness. but, your current frazzled self was barely able to form a coherent sentence, instead muttering out a quiet, “mhm?”

taehyung’s padded feet shambled towards the rustic couch that you had occupied for most of the day, having written a lab report before beginning to prep for your upcoming exams. he came to a halt about a metre away from your curled up form, admiring the ruffled strands sticking out from your double dutch braid. 

the dark, puffy bags that you earned from missing sleep in favour of your studies almost brought forth a scolding, although the deep-seated affection he discovered within the depths of your irises as you gazed up at him made him change his course.

“i need my cuddle buddy.”

when the corners of your lips turned up ever so slightly he felt giddy at the sight of your tiny grin, but the longing conveyed through your eyebrows pulling up and towards one another made him scowl attractively.

“aw, tae, i promise I’ll be there in a few, okay?” despite your initial confusion at the abrupt absence of your laptop, courtesy of your drowsy boyfriend, you continued,��“i just need to finish up this pa--”

your sentence was rudely interrupted when taehyung flopped onto the other, uninhabited side of the couch, laying on his stomach with his legs hanging off the edge. precipitously, he buried his head in your stomach, arms sliding behind your lower back to squeeze your torso. the force of his embrace forced all the air out of your diaphragm and you gave a few quick, successive taps to his bicep to make your surrender known.

after a few seconds, he let up his grip the tiniest bit, just enough for some air to pass through your lungs; taehyung seemed adamant on physically squashing you with his overflowing love. 

“you said that two hours ago.” his voice came out muffled from being shoved up against the cloth of his own thick sweater that adorned your body.

guilt flooded your senses as you placed one hand on top of his mop of brown curls, exposed from the force of his jump which blew his hood down. you let your digits tangle themselves within his strands as you softy replied, “i know, i’m sorry. there’s just all these final projects and exams are around the corner. i wanna be prepared, you know?”

“depriving yourself of sleep isn’t gonna help though.” taehyung brought his arms back to his sides, pushing his chest off your lap and shifting his weight to his knees. you planted your feet on the floor as well, expecting the two of you to scuffle off to bed. however, taehyung obviously had different plans, as he suddenly placed both of his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back down.

you stole a glance at the sly smirk he flashed you, suspicion seeping through your baffled features. he crawled closer and proceeded to lift one knee over to the other side of your body, sitting down onto your lap and effectively caging you in by straddling your legs. a scoff escaped your throat as the edges of your eyes crinkled in a playful smile, arms circling around his thin waist to clasp onto one another, resting on his lower back.

he leaned forward, placing his thumb on your right cheek and his pointer finger on your left, contracting the muscles in his hands to squish your cheeks together. when your mouth was effectively stuck in an adorable pout, much like a fish, he left a peck on your lips. although you tried to jut your head towards his for another, his grip on your jaw tightened to end your pursuit, resting his forehead on yours instead. 

with your gaze still trained on his lips, you read the subtle movements rather than heard his whisper of, “greedy.”

taehyung adored staring into the darkness of your pupils, always seeking to uncover more of your soul than that which already laid bare to him. with this knowledge, it came as no shock to you when you looked up to the sight of entrancing cinnamon discs, flecked with bright gold blemishes, observing your every move. you found yourself doing the same with him, trying to pick apart every detail of this wonderful man’s soul.

you could only hope that the utter admiration in his eyes were reflected in your own. 

tilting your head back marginally, you stretched an arm out to place the hood on top of his head once again. lifting your other hand as well, you grasped the drawstrings of his sweater and pulled the cords tight, swiftly covering the edges of his face until his nose was the only feature left visible. soft giggles escaped your lips as he grabbed one edge of the bundled clothing and yanked himself free, revealing the boxy grin that you adored. “oh, no you didn’t.”

“oh, yes i did.”

slipping his arms around your torso once again, he dived into the wide expanse of your exposed neck, tenderly biting down on a particularly ticklish area. you squeaked at the contact and writhed around in his grip before he was soothing the area with light kisses and some more nibbles, pressing his chest against yours in an effort to be as close as the laws of physics would allow him.

you rubbed thoughtless shapes into his back as both your breaths evened out, unintentionally synchronizing. minutes passed before you felt his lips move against your skin once again. “i have a really big crush on you.”

“taehyung, we’ve been together for three years.”

he hummed into the crook of your neck, actively sending mild vibrations down your spine—seemingly content with the reminder. he really did remind you of an overgrown toddler sometimes. “can you come to bed now?”

“okay you big baby, let’s go.” you untangled your limbs from one another as taehyung stood up onto his feet. while he headed back to the bedroom, you remained planted at your spot and began whining, stretching both arms and legs out in the air. 

taehyung let loose a hearty laugh at your childish behaviour and reached down to pick up your limp form, chests pressing together yet again as you wrapped your appendages around the tall man. “who’s the baby now, huh?”

#taehyung imagine #bts imagine #taehyung drabble #bts drabble #taehyung scenarios #bts scenarios #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #bangtanscenery

[thethirdamell]

I’ve seen a lot of people posting a few writing memes about fic titles so I just wanted to break down where all of mine have come from and what they mean in Accursed Ones because I’m bored. Probably nothing you don’t already know in here

1. Awakening  - Name of the game + Anders literally waking up + metaphorically waking up and understanding his obligation to help 2. Nothing For It - Mean to imply that Anders had no alternative but to help and be helped by Amell in turn 3. Conscription  - What it says on the tin 4. Joining  - What it says on the tin 5. It Comes From Beneath  - Name of the quest 6. Last of the Legion  - Name of the quest 7. Memories of the Stone  - Name of the quest 8. A Night of Revelry - Meant to be ironic considering what happens 9. Freedom for Anders  - Name of the quest 10. Freedom for Anders Part Two - Name of the quest 11. The Righteous Path  - Name of the quest 12. In Retreat, Panic  - A play on the Grey Warden motto. (Also my favorite chapter in the story.) 13. All Soul's Day - Name of the annum 14. The Dark Theurge  - Name of the demon 15. Paramour  - Name of the achievement for a romance 16. Ground Rules - Ground rules for a relationship 17. Lost in Dreams  - Name of a similar quest 18. Far Afield - Name of the quest 19. Far Afield Part Two - Name of the quest 20. Uprising  - Name of the quest 21. The Resolutionist and The Aequitarian - Amell and Wynne’s respective fraternities  22. Serpents High, Angels Low - Both the rules of the team’s card game and an over-arching theme of the fic where things that are presumed to be good/evil are often the reverse.  23. Malleus Maleficarum  - The name of a treatise on witchcraft elevating sorcery to heresy and a song Malleus Maleficarum by Ordo Funebris 24. Shadows of the Blackmarsh  - Name of the quest 25. The Blackmarsh Undying  - Name of the quest 26. Pride Goes Before Destruction - A reference to the Pride demon and Amell’s pride in thinking he can handle it 27. And a Haughty Spirit Before a Fall - A reference to Justice and Anders falling for Amell 28. The Apple And The Tree - A quote about Amell being like his father 29. Lullabies - A Song - Lullabies by Yuna 30. Fools Gold - Meant to reference both Quentin and Anders’ happiness. Also a song Fools Gold Fitz and the Tantrums.  31. Eyes of the Beholder - A play off “Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder” meant to reference the difference between Amell and Anders’ perspectives on losing his eyes.  32. Blame it on the Night - Meant to indicate what happened isn’t Anders’ fault. Also a song - Blame it on the Night by Calvin Harris  33. White Lies, Red Eyes - A reference to both the colors of the Amell family and Amell’s personality 34. Spirits and Demons - What it says on the tin 35. Love is Blind - An overarching theme in the story. 36. Satinalia - Name of the annum 37. Brothers and Sisters - A reference to Wardens and Anders still having family without Amell.  38. Score One for Our Heroes - Meant to be ironic. Also a quote from Anders. 39. Out of Control - The current state of things and also a reference to A Leader on Losing Control by Corb Lund which is a Leonie song.  40. Justice for Naught - Meant to imply that sometimes there is no justice but you have to keep trying anyway 41. Here's to Us Blighters - What Oghren says when night is darkest 42. Bold and Brazen and Beautiful - Amell’s description of Anders 43. Monsters and Men - Self explanatory for Justice/Anders.  44. The Best Intentions - Oft Go Awry is Unspoken  45. Blessed Are the Peacekeepers - A quote from the Chant of Light 46. Champions of the Just - The rest of the quote. Meant to be ironic.  47. The Black City - A reference to both Kirkwall and the actual Black City 48. Rip Up Your Roots - A quote from Cor and what Anders does to cope, but the follow up, “You ain’t gonna have a tree.” is equally important.  49. A Good Man - A quote from Lirene about Anders 50. First Day - The name of the annum 51. As The Crow Flies - Foreshadowing Anders learning shapeshifting 52. Wintersend - Name of the annum 53. Chasing the Sun - Name of a song. Chasing the Sun by the Wanted.  54. Doubts and Revelations - What it says on the tin 55. Birds of a Feather - Flock together. Both a joke about shapeshifting and Kanders.  56. Snap - What it says on the tin 57. Ray of Sunshine - Joke on Bethany’s name 58. Oopsy Daisy - Joke on Merrill’s name 59. Pretty Reckless - Meant to reference both Anders and Hawke’s behavior.  60. Let's Try This Again - What it says on the tin 61. A Preoccupation with Spirits - A joke about Justice and alcohol 62. Meetings - What it says on the tin 63. Acquainted - Basically just Meetings Part 2 64. Bloodline Part One -  What it says on the tin 65. Bloodline Part Two -  What it says on the tin 66. Trail of Love - Name of the quest but also references Anders’ many past and future loves. Amell, Karl, Isabela, Hawke.  67. Rude Awakening - A call back to the first chapter meant to show how much Anders has changed. Anders takes on the role of Amell here and Hawke takes on the role of Anders with respects to Blood Magic.  68. Safe Harbors - A joke about sex with Isabela 69. The Best Laid Plans - Oft Go Awry is implicit.  70. Oft Go Awry -  What it says on the tin 71. All New, Faded For Him - This was an anagram like the quest in DAI but I can’t remember what it is an anagram for. RIP 72. A Year Ago Today -  What it says on the tin 73. Friends in Low Places - Name of the quest  74. No Turning Back -  What it says on the tin 75. Senior Warden Anders -  What it says on the tin 76. Bodies So Maimed - Quote from the Chant of Light about darkspawn 77. Down in the Dark with the Dead - A quote from Eli 78. Up in the Light with the Life - The opposite of the above quote 79. A Day for Silence - Name of the annum 80. My Failing and My Falling Part One - A line from Anders’ story for Nika and a reference to Hawke’s failure to protect his sister.  81. My Failing and My Falling Part Two - Same as above 82. Pain and Bane - Name of the poem Merrill sings. Also an overarching theme of the story 83. Luck of the Dog - Reference to the Dog Lords but also ironic considering Anders is not lucky.  84. Bird's Eye View - Both a reference to Anders’ transformation magic and his perspective on the Circles and how Bethany doesn’t share them 85. Act of Mercy - Name of the quest 86. The Revolutionists - Name of Decimus’s fraternity 87. Burn After Reading - what it says on the tin 88. Not in Hand, Not in Play - A quote from the chapter but also Fenris’ perspective on love and a theme of the story. It is or it isn’t.  89. Enemies Among Us - Name of the quest 90. Save Me - What it says on the tin 91. Benedictions - A Canticle in the Chant of Light that makes Hawke think of Anders 92. What Will The Neighbors Think? - A mini-theme throughout the story regarding Anders (in)ability to be openly in a relationship, be it with Amell, Justice, Hawke, etc.  93. Have Your Pie and Eat it Too - What Anders keeps trying and failing to do 94. Dead Set on Ending Badly - Foreshadowing  95. Where We Stand - Where Hawke and Anders’ relationship stands 96. Hearts of Gold or Near Enough - Meant to apply to all of the main characters 97. Ghilan’him Banal’vhen - The Path that Leads Astray. Foreshadowing. 98. Abstention and Absolution - Meant to be Ironic 99. Until the Last Dog is Hung - What it says on the tin 100. Free To Good Home - References the mages, Dog Lords, and also Anders 101. It Gets Easier - Narrator Voice: It did not get easier. 102. Luxury of Leaning - A reference to Hawke not having the option to pursue men as the scion of a noble house but doing it anyway because fuck you mom. 103. Dissent - Name of the quest 104. Into Madness - Play on words. Descend into Madness / Dissent into Madness 105. Fester - What it says on the tin 106. The First Sacrifice - Name of the quest 107. Once Removed - Play on words. A reference to Amell/Hawke’s Eyes and Quentin being Hawke’s cousin once removed.  108. Not Again - Haha get wrekt  109. All That Remains - Name of the quest 110. The Way Forward - A reference to Fenris’ quote about the stairs being out. Meant to symbolize that there are no other options for Anders, Hawke, and the narrative as a whole. Also, ironically, meant to show that Hawke does not actually move forward.  111. Lyrium and Lies - Foreshadowing 112. Ser Cumference and the Terrible Tower - A children’s tale vibe meant to show the dichotomy of man.  113. The Calm Before - Foreshadowing for the name of the next chapter.  114. The Storm - What was foreshadowed.  115. Long Time No See - A reference to both not seeing Amell for a long time and Amell not being able to see for a long time.  116. To Catch a Thief - Name of the quest 117. To Save a Sinner - Similar naming methodology of the previous chapter meant to show Isabela is more than just a thief.  118. On Deaf Ears - Both Hawke being deaf and Hawke not agreeing with Anders. 119. Hey Sparkles - Meant to give a “It’s gonna be okay dude” vibe.  120. Give Me A Sign - Sign language reference but also a plea for Hawke and Anders’ relationship to get better. 121. We Should Talk - About both Hawke and Amell, but Amell is the only one Anders talks to in this chapter.  122. The Weight of Years - Shit’s heavy 123. How Have You Been? - Asking the dangerous questions again 124. Spin a Story - Varric’s terrible advice to Anders but also Amell’s approach to interacting with Anders after they’ve been apart for so long. 125. Give and Take Part One - Commentary on Anders relationship with both Amell and Hawke.  126. Give and Take Part Two - See above  127. What You Make It - What love is according to Fenris 128. Letters from the Vigil - What it says on the tin 129. Consent is Key - A quote from the chapter and commentary on responsible use of blood magic.  130. What Have You Done Now? - A song. What Have you Done Now by Within Temptation 131. But This is All I Ever Was - A song lyric. Ditmas by Mumford & Sons 132. Wasted Time - Also a song lyric from Ditmas but like accidentally. 

#ao rambles #ao nonsense #might do this again for apples #what a productive use of my time i regret nothing #don't mind me #just having fun

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I think the second half of this book is my best work yet. I know I always say this and that’s bc I’m always getting better -Danny

Words: 4,073

Series’ Masterlist

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Chapter Twenty: St. Mungo's.

At five in the morning the mood hadn't changed much in the room, Fred had fallen asleep on her shoulder, George and Ginny were across, staring intently at some point on the wall, Ron kept his face hidden behind his hands.

Harry and Sirius would look around the room with a lost air, unsure of what their part in this whole thing was. Mel and her mother had the same worried expression, none of them was known to be patient, but they didn't have a choice, they were all waiting...

Mel was worried about Mr Weasley, but she was also worried about her uncle back in the castle, about Umbridge and how she'd react to the missing Gryffindor students... She was also worried about Erick, all alone and having to deal with the death of the man he'd admired his whole life.

That was all Mel could feel at its fullest lately, no happiness was lasting, no bliss was ever-present. Mel was in a constant state of worry and distress, part of it because of her own trauma, and because all around her there was simply no safe place where to hold on to.

Mrs Weasley came rushing through the door. Mel stared at the woman, trying to find any hints of the possible news. She didn't have to wait for long, though.

"He's going to be all right," The woman said. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."

Fred sat back beside her with heaviness, Mel pulled him closer with one arm and hugged him sideways, George and Ginny stood up and hugged their mother tightly. Ron finished his butterbeer, his usual colour slowly going back to his face.

"Breakfast!" said Sirius, standing up with newfound energy. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER! Oh, forget it, then. So it's breakfast for — let's see — nine... Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast —"

Harry got up swiftly and walked over to the stove, clearly wanting to be of use in a room where he felt he had no place to take. He was wrong. Mrs Weasley made her way to the boy and took the plates out of his hands, encasing him in a fierce hug.

"I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been for you, Harry. They might not have found Arthur for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore's been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you've no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis..."

Before Harry had a chance to reply, she let him go and turned to Sirius and Emily.

"Oh, I'm so grateful... They think he'll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer... Of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas..."

"The more the merrier!" Sirius smiled openly at the woman. Emily nodded in agreement.

Mel knew Sirius loathed having to spend all his time inside the house, even with the company of Emily it surely was annoying, having nothing to do given the circumstances of his life.

"Sirius," Harry moved closer to the man and whispered something Mel couldn't quite hear.

Sirius gave the boy a funny look and followed him to the pantry. Mel felt the irresistible need to follow them as well, but she figured, whatever Harry wanted to talk about in private was not her business, not anymore. That much she'd said to him a few hours ago.

Fred stirred in his place and finally moved away from her grip, hastily cleaning his face before anyone could notice, Mel pretended not to see for his benefit.

"I'm going to help my mum with breakfast," She told him. "I'm happy your dad's well."

Fred nodded, half-listening to the girl. When she moved over to get something out of a shelf, she listened to Harry's voice coming from the little room next to her.

"Sirius, I... I think I'm going mad... Back in Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey... for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake, I felt like one — my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore — Sirius, I wanted to attack him —"

"It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all. You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and —"

"It wasn't that. It was like something rose up inside me, like there's a snake inside me —"

Dumbledore's words felt heavier than before, if Harry was truly affected by some kind of dark magic... it reminded her when Ginny started to act strange, when she'd been...

"Possessed," Mel whispered.

The door to the pantry opened abruptly and Sirius walked out of it causing her to jump, Mel directed herself to the stove, doing her best to not look back to where she knew Harry was currently standing.

She listened to Ginny's slow breathing unable to fall asleep. Her mind was replaying every moment of the last few months after the third task, trying to see if there were any hints that could point to a possession.

Mel thought hard about every time she had touched the boy, which to be fair, wasn't that many. Harry was acting up more often, that much was true, but who wouldn't after the hell he'd been through? Everyone had a limit, and Harry's got surpassed by a wide difference.

She didn't want to think about this, but she couldn't ignore it, not when it could lead to some of her friends getting hurt. It wasn't that she didn't trust Harry, but once again, Ginny was absolutely trustworthy and yet she'd petrified Hermione without meaning to. It could've ended worse if it weren't because Hermione got the answer on time.

When it finally was time for lunch Mel followed everyone downstairs with very little energy. No one but Harry seemed to notice, and that only because he too hadn't slept. Mel was once again torn between her duty and her personal interests. On one side, she felt she owed to her uncle to pay close attention, but that meant staying as close as possible, and that was something she didn't want to do.

Maybe it wasn't about being close physically, maybe she just had to get closer to his head. That one she could do without having to spend time with him. Legilimency and Occlumency.

That afternoon they were meant to visit Mr Weasley, the trip could be useful, she could stand next to Harry and try to perceive if his energy had changed. It was hard work, and she couldn't fully trust in the little trick, but right now that was all she had.

An hour later and an awkward train ride with Tonks and Moody, she found herself entering 'ST. Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries' through the glass of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

The things Mel saw in the waiting room were certified to give her nightmares, or at least, very peculiar fever dreams. A group of wizards and witches were walking around the rows of people writing down things on clipboards and asking questions about their symptoms. Beside her, she heard Harry asked Ron if those were doctors.

"Doctors?" Ron asked in a tone of bewilderment. "Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers."

"Hey, they're not nutters!" Mel argued. "Muggles can't heal each other magically, they had to find their own solutions..."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron rolled her eyes. "Look, mum's there!"

"Over here!" Mrs Weasley called from the line where she was standing.

Behind the desk, she saw the portrait of Dilys, the witch that was also inside Dumbledore's office. Mel timidly waved at her, the witch did a quick count to make sure all the Weasleys were there along with Harry and Mel and she discretely returned Mel's greeting, disappearing from her portrait right after that.

"It's these — ouch — shoes my brother gave me — ow!" A man at the front of the line caught her attention. "— they're eating my — OUCH — feet — look at them, there must be some kind of — AARGH — jinx on them and I can't — AAAAARGH — get them off —"

"The shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?" said the witch at the front desk. "You want Spell Damage, fourth floor. Just like it says on the floor guide. Next!"

Two more people went before them, one worried father holding a little girl by the ankle, with fluffy white wings coming out of her back, and one man that was there looking for a wizard that apparently was confused to the point he was sure he was a teapot.

"Hello," Mrs Weasley said when they arrived at the front. "My husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us — ?"

"Arthur Weasley? Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn ward."

"Thank you. Come on, you lot."

They followed through the halls and Mel continued to look around curiously, she probably had a funny dreamy look on her face, because Ron nudged her side, smirking.

"What now, you're adding 'Healer' to the list of jobs you want when you grow up?"

Mel snorted.

"No! Didn't you see all the crazy things happening in the waiting room? I wouldn't get used to that! I'm afraid that even though I've spent years as a witch now, at heart I'm still a muggle."

"Give it time, Lady," George replied. "It's been like what, four years? You won't even remember your life without magic after a decade living like a witch."

For some reason, that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She loved being a witch, but her muggle life wasn't something she wanted to forget, especially when it had been the best years of her friendship with Harry...

Why did her mind insist on bringing Harry to every discussion?

"We'll wait outside, Molly," Tonks said. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once... It ought to be just the family first."

Harry and Mel immediately stepped back, but Mrs Weasley reached out to get Harry and the twins grabbed her by the arms, pulling her along.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thank you..."

"And there's no way you're staying behind," Fred said playfully. "Dad would love to see her daughter-in-law..."

"If you keep saying that you'll end up believing it," Mel warned him.

"I bet my parents would rather have you as a daughter instead of this bad copy of me," George teased.

"Who are you calling a copy, you idiot?" Fred reached to hit his brother, but George hid behind her. "Everyone knows I'm more attractive than you!"

"You two stop fighting!" Mrs Weasley hissed. "This is a hospital room! Please act your age!"

The three of them stopped, trembling with contained laughter as they reached Mr Weasley's bed.

"Hello!" The man called happily. "Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later..."

"How are you, Arthur? You're still looking a bit peaky..."

"I feel absolutely fine, if they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."

"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," Mr Weasley reached for his wand, and with one wave he conjured a couple of chairs for them to sit on. "It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open... They're sure they'll find an antidote, though, they say they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour. But that fellow over there," He lowered his voice and pointed to the man in front of them. "Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all."

"A werewolf?" Mrs Weasley turned to look at the man with wide eyes. "Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a private room?"

"It's two weeks till full moon. They've been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he'll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn't mention names, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage..."

"What did he say?" asked George.

"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up. And that woman over there won't tell the Healers what bit her, which makes us all think it must have been something she was handling illegally. Whatever it was took a real chunk out of her leg, very nasty smell when they take off the dressings."

Mel's eyes stayed on the man laying ahead of them. The newborn werewolf, a man who was probably completely fine before being bitten. Was it really two weeks before the full moon? That wasn't ideal, she wanted to see her uncle, she was missing him lots already, and having half a week wasted because of his condition made her feel terribly for him.

"So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, you already know, don't you? It's very simple — I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on, and bitten."

"Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?" asked Fred.

"No, of course not, the Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirty great serpent got —"

"Arthur!" said Mrs Weasley.

"— got — er — me," Mr Weasley finished.

"So where were you when it happened, Dad?" asked George.

"That's my business," said Mr Weasley calmly, "I was just reading about Willy Widdershins's arrest when you arrived. You know Willy turned out to be behind those regurgitating toilets last summer? One of his jinxes backfired, the toilet exploded, and they found him lying unconscious in the wreckage covered from head to foot in —"

"When you say you were 'on duty,'" Fred interrupted in a low voice, "what were you doing?"

"You heard your father," Mrs Weasley hissed, "we are not discussing this here! Go on about Willy Widdershins, Arthur —"

"Well, don't ask me how, but he actually got off on the toilet charge. I can only suppose gold changed hands —"

"You were guarding it, weren't you?" said George eagerly. "The weapon? The thing You-Know-Who's after?"

"George, be quiet!"

"Anyway," Mr Weasley continued like he hadn't been interrupted, "this time Willy's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles, and I don't think he'll be able to worm his way out of it because according to this article, two Muggles have lost fingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency bone regrowth and memory modification. Just think of it, Muggles in St. Mungo's! I wonder which ward they're in?"

"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?" asked Fred, glancing at his father anxiously. "A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"

"There's no need to talk about that night," Mel said roughly. The tone she used was enough to quiet the twin, but Mrs Weasley added more to it.

"That's enough! Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside. You can come and say good-bye afterwards. Go on..."

Mel stood up and wished Mr Weasley as fast recovery, then she followed the rest of her friends back outside. Moody and Tonks went in, Fred spoke up.

"Fine, be like that. Don't tell us anything."

"Looking for these?" said George, holding out the extendable ears.

"You read my mind," Fred grinned. "Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?"

They gave everyone an extendable ear, Harry's hand stopped midway, hesitant to follow through.

"Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life, if anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him it's you..." George insisted.

"Okay, go!" Fred whispered once they were all seated.

"...they searched the whole area but they couldn't find the snake anywhere," She heard Tonks voice, "it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur... But You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?"

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," Moody replied, " 'cause he's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"

"Yes," said Mrs Weasley. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this..."

"Yeah, well," said Moody, "there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."

"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," whispered Mrs Weasley. "He said Mel used legilimency and found nothing unusual, but he's not so sure."

"Legilimency?" Moody said in a tone of mild surprise. "A fifteen-year-old having control over that kind of magic? No wonder why You-Know-Who wants her on his side!"

Mel gasped and Ron was quick to cover her mouth. So that was it then, Voldemort didn't want to kill her, he wanted to use her.

"...The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake... Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him —"

Harry jumped back, dropping the extendable ear and looking at his friends with wide eyes. Mel kept her gaze fixed on the door.

She wanted nothing else than to follow Harry's lead and hide in her room for the rest of the day, but as soon as she set a foot on the entrance hall, Ron caught her wrist and pulled her towards the twins' room, quickly followed by the rest of the young Weasleys.

"What?" She asked, though she already knew.

"You know what's going on," Ron said. "You knew Harry was ill before Neville had left the room, and you knew Umbridge was hurting him. Not only that, but you had the same bruises as Harry on the back of your hand!"

"How..?"

"Hermione saw it one day while you were still asleep," Ron confessed. "You have to tell us what's going on."

"I don't have the answers," She said tensely. "I can't tell if what they're saying it's true, I don't know if Harry's possessed."

"But you can tell other things, can't you?" Her friend insisted. "Last June, you had the same injuries as him in your arm, only that yours were bruises..."

She looked at the twins and Ginny, they were all staring at her. Now was as good as any other day, Harry didn't care about her telling them, but she had to be careful. Mel sat down on Fred's bed and told them everything.

Well, not everything. She began her story on the night of the third task, when the thin wall dividing her lifeline from Harry's broke apart. It was simple, really. They had been through so many near-death experiences together that the magic in their souls had merged, creating their strange connection.

Dumbledore had called it survival instincts, Harry's mind would look for her whenever he felt in danger, whether he wanted to or not. Not only that, but they were able to lend a bit of vital energy to each other if they were lacking some in a crucial moment.

The Weasleys listened with their mouths wide open, Ginny kept biting her nails, Ron looked awfully confused and would look at her and then the floor as if he could see Harry through it.

"That's why we fought," She said. "Harry doesn't want to force me to feel his pain. He thought that distance would help but I don't think we'll ever go back to normal. It didn't use to be this strong but ever since he fought Voldemort I feel more things now... I see more."

"But..." Ron frowned, trying to gather his thoughts. "But it's not you in his body, right? Or Harry in your body?"

"No..." Mel hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "I stay in my body and he stays in his. I just... it's like dreaming. You feel things, but as soon as you wake up, it goes away."

"But you've been hurt before," Fred frowned. "Ron said it just now, you get bruises, and last night when we got here, your nose was bleeding—"

"Those were my fault—" She started, but Fred shook his head in disbelief.

"How's that your fault?"

"The bruises happened because I didn't ground myself," Mel said. "Harry was going through a lot... he was dying. I had to give in a little so he could come back. I had to let him take whatever he needed..."

Her friends gave her eery looks, she let out a tired sigh.

"I know how it sounds, but I promise this is not hurting me more than it hurts him. This thing goes both ways, if I were the one hurting, Harry would feel everything. He... he would've done the same for me. You know he would."

No one talked against her, still, Ron had lots of questions.

"What about last night?"

"Last night," Mel look down, fidgeting at the idea of having felt something else than just Harry, but not wanting to scare her friends. "I was weak– I used legilimency for the first time, it drained me. I couldn't push Harry's feelings away, I just buried them inside. Which was a mistake."

"What does that mean?" Ginny asked. "If... if it turns out he's possessed, what will that do to you?"

"He can't be," Mel sentenced, but her voice broke at the end.

"Have you felt anything strange?"

"I just feel Harry, even if he were struggling with something, I doubt I'd feel it. I only feel the things that belong to his soul."

"I don't get it," George frowned. "You saved his life last June and he blames you for the connection?"

"He doesn't blame her," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry's scared for her. You'd be terrified too if your best friend gets hurt every time you do. Harry probably freaked out when he found out he'd taken a bit of Mel's life. That sounds awful... But he would've done the same for you, and it was your choice anyway, I think you were brave for doing so."

"Maybe if you talk to Harry he'll understand," Ron offered.

Mel let out a bitter laugh.

"I've tried. As soon as he told me his idea— I've tried to tell him that this is not his fault. The best we can do is just ignore it and try to live normal lives."

"I don't think it'll fix it," Fred replied. "Things don't usually go away like that."

" I'm not saying I'll ignore it if he's in danger, you saw it last night, I was the first to arrive and help him. I like my new life, I like having more friends and I can't help but think that maybe..."

She stopped before saying 'I don't need him anymore', realizing it was something horrible to say.

"Maybe what?" Ron asked sharply, probably guessing what she wanted to say.

"Maybe it's time I stop treating Harry like a child and let him deal with this on his own. He keeps saying he can do it, so maybe I should listen."

"What if he can't, though?" Ginny asked. "What if they're right and... and he's..."

Mel got up. "I'm tired... can we please leave it?"

"But—"

"Sure," Fred stood up as well. "C'mon, we should help mum and Emily downstairs."

He shared one significant look with Mel, she wondered if he'd gotten a new revelation with this. Maybe he understood there was more to their agreement than just her wanting to get over a crush.

It was about wanting to escape from the constant reminder of being tied to someone against her will, someone who didn't want her around.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

[indiavolowetrust]

The Obey Me Boys as RPG Bosses: Frostheart

CHAPTERS: Prologue + Beelzebub and Belphegor, Asmodeus, Satan (YOU ARE HERE), Leviathan, Mammon, Lucifer, ???, ???, Endings

You are one of many hunters in a land cursed with everlasting winter. You yourself have become rime-touched after an attack by your fellow corrupted hunter, an incident that left you traumatized and lame. Even your hunter’s guild has resigned you to a life of mere cleaning and upkeep duties, and you have spent the last seven years in the depths of your guild’s archives.

Then the White Witch spirits your little brother away into her castle, taking with her the only family you have ever known. Armed with your trusty hunting knife and bow – and aided by your senior hunter, Simeon – you set off into the rime-cursed lands to find Luke and end the White Witch’s reign once and for all.

**Very loosely based on The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen.

Word Count: 1,207

TW: Blood, Violence, Gore

[SATAN, THE SHACKLED HOUND]

Despite the high mortality rate of those enlisted in the Frost Blades, the guild makes an effort to provide exceptionally well-made armor for all its members. It is a curious thing: the skin of a frostwyrm lined with the pelt of a direwolf, bows and arrow shafts carved from the wood unique to the rime-touched land, and all manner of blades created from the iron ingots stamped with the King Diavolo’s royal crest. An assurance of quality, you would presume. Aside from that, you yourself can attest to its strength. Had the Frost Blades not invested so much into their armor, you’re sure you would have lost more than an eye and the use of a single leg. Old Gytha would have had nothing left of you to stitch back together.

And so watching a rime-touched beast slice the armor into ribbons is nothing less than jarring. Simeon’s blood flies in an arc through the spilled moonlight, finally splattering on the ground before you. The drops that do reach your cheek are so very warm.

The attack is enough to force Simeon back, his boots scraping against the stone floor, but he manages to hold his ground. Sword held defensively before him with one hand, the other searching in his pockets for a bit of flint. Something to ignite an incendiary weapon. Yet you know before he does that he can’t use such a thing. He won’t. While the library is absolutely colossal in size, there’s no guarantee that you and Simeon would both be able to escape in time from the blaze. There’s no guarantee that the incendiary would simply fizzle out to uselessness either, considering the strange properties of the hinterlands.

Hide, Simeon had said. The dryad had left more than a few puncture wounds when his whip had struck you in the waking world, and Simeon’s thumb had grazed lightly over the bandages. Jaw set, an inscrutable expression. Hide and stay quiet until I come back for you. It won’t be that long. Promise me that you won’t leave this place until I come back.

The moment of hesitation is all the beast needs. The rime-touched creature -- a pitch-black dire wolf with a verdant, blazing gaze -- lunges forward once more, his massive jaws snapping shut. Simeon sidesteps the attack once more.

Except he doesn’t. The dire wolf’s massive jaws snap shut around his shoulder with a sickening crack. His sword clatters to the floor. You are privy to the sight of blood flowing freely down his helpless form, the strangled groan burbling from his throat, and the deafening silence thereafter. Simeon slumps in the dire wolf’s jaws, motionless and horribly, horribly still. A flick of the dire wolf’s head tosses Simeon’s body against one of the many bookcases in the library, his body crumpling into an insensate heap at the bottom. The beast begins to pad towards him once more.

You can’t keep your promise.

You don’t know how you get there -- or how fast, for that matter -- but in what feels like less than a moment, you find yourself strewn over his body. Legs burning, heart hammering in your chest. His sword is much too heavy for you to lift, but you hold onto it with a white-knuckled grip all the same. The dire wolf encroaches upon you with slow, deliberate steps, stalking forward. Your blood runs cold.

But Simeon’s body grows even colder behind you, his breaths labored and heavy. His blood pools around you.

If it will not let you pass, then you will carve out a path by yourself. If it knows what’s good for it, then it’ll stay away. You call it a monster, a fiend, a --

The dire wolf howls with laughter, throwing its head back.

“ME, A MONSTER? HOW PREPOSTEROUS! YOU HUMANS HAVEN’T CHANGED AT ALL!” He draws forward at that, his great teeth snapping inches away from your face. His verdant eyes blaze mirthlessly through the shadows. “I SEEK NOT GLORY. I SEEK NOT PLEASURE. YOU WOULD DO WELL TO KNOW THAT I AM NOTHING LIKE THAT LUSTFUL ROSE-KEEPER OR THOSE GLUTTONOUS, SLOTHFUL GOLEMS. I SEEK ONLY FREEDOM IN MY WRATH, BOUND AND SHACKLED AS I AM. TELL ME, DEAR HUMAN, WHAT DO YOU SEEK?”

You -- you only seek the path to the heart of the glacial rift. You stumble over nearly every word, prepared for the beast to bite off your head, but he gives no other sign of aggression. The White Witch has taken your dear brother, and you intend on retrieving him from her clutches. You know not how you’ve ended up here or why. One moment you had been in a garden, and the next moment you were in a library.

“I SEE SHE’S FOUND A NEW PLAYTHING. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO DRAW THAT ACCURSED WITCH’S ATTENTION?” The dire wolf huffs, the scent of ash and blood permeating the air, and begins to turn away. “‘IT MATTERS NOT, I SUPPOSE. COME, AND I WILL SHOW YOU THE PATH BACK TO YOUR REALM. CAST ASIDE THESE FANCIFUL DREAMS OF HEROISM, HUMAN. YOUR BROTHER IS LONG GONE.”

Wait! Your plea is louder than it should be, enough for him to pause. Simeon is -- he is --

“HALF-DEAD, AS HE SHOULD BE,” the beast growls. “THAT HALFWIT ATTACKED ME FIRST, AND I MERELY DEFENDED MYSELF. HE CANNOT BE SAVED.”

Defended himself? He nearly tore Simeon in half! And what does he mean he can’t be saved? You will not abandon him, and you will certainly not abandon him in such a state. He is the guardian of this library; certainly he knows some way to save him. Certainly he understands your plight.

“SO YOU DESIRE TO PROTECT HIM?”

Yes, you do.

“YOU BELIEVE THAT HALFWIT IS STRONG ENOUGH TO WITHSTAND THE CURSE?”

Of course, he is! He’s the greatest and most pure of his party in the Frost Blades. He cannot possibly fall to the curse.

“WHAT WILL YOU DO TO PROTECT HIM, HUMAN? WILL YOU SHED YOUR BLOOD AND SHATTER YOUR BONES? WILL YOU SACRIFICE YOURSELF TO THIS REALM, AS I HAVE? IN THE END, WHEN YOU HAVE REACHED THE HEART OF THE RIFT, WILL YOU HAVE THE STOMACH TO SEE WHAT YOUR ACTIONS HAVE WROUGHT?”

You’ll do anything to protect him. Anything. Even if the curse spreads across your body -- your flesh pierced by crystals, your heart turned into frost, your blood expelled from every orifice -- you will do anything to save the people you love. He cannot put doubt into your heart.

You do not even have the time to blink. The tips of his teeth pierce just the surface of your skin, the scent of ash and blood fills your nostrils once more, and the inside of his gaping mouth opens like a void before you. Yet you do not flinch. You do not dare move, even when your blood begins to run freely from the small wounds. He remains there for a few long moments, his teeth digging only an increment deeper into your flesh. Your vision begins to swim as you hold your breath.

His teeth rake long lines against your flesh when he pulls away. In the sliver of moonlight cast upon him, you see the glimmer of ice-like, illusory shackles on his legs. Old, wicked scars litter his body.

“YOU TRULY ARE FOOLISH. FOOLISH, BUT BRAVE.” Something is spat out at your feet. A tooth. The dire wolf begins to lumber back into the shadows, disappearing amongst the bookcases. “MY BLOOD WILL ACT AS A PANACEA. THE MAIN DOORS WILL TAKE YOU WHEREVER THE WHITE WITCH DECIDES YOU SHOULD GO. DO NOT LET ME CATCH YOU AGAIN.”

Tip: You have only three chances to properly administer the panacea. Make every second of the mini-game count.

[NEXT: LEVIATHAN, THE FIRST SERPENT]

#obey me #obey me shall we date #frostheart #obey me simeon #obey me mc #obey me satan #om satan #om mc #om simeon #obey me! #fanfic #blood tw #violence tw #gore tw

[sinful-imagines]

Alright, here’s the one I’m most proud of. It’s Naramis again because it’s my favorite ship and I love writing for it.

April 4th and Pistol Children- Naramis

Word count: 1144

TW: Panic attack

It was 1:37am, and Guido Mista was rocking back and forth on his floor and hyperventilating. He'd accidentally stayed up too late and watched in horror as the date switched from 4-3 to 4-4.

He'd been like this since midnight because he couldn't really bring himself to do anything else. This April 4th was particularly bad because it was the first April 4th in which he had a boyfriend. Narancia was usually the center of his thoughts for the accursed days for the past couple of years, but this time it was especially bad. Graphic images of Narancia dying in various ways had been in his mind for the past hour, but the one that worried him most felt all too real.

He was impaled on a fence, completely lifeless and Mista couldn't do anything. He could only watch in horror as the love of his life laid still with blood leaking from dozens of holes in his body.

That sent him over the edge, and caused tears to start spilling out of his eyes. Yup, this was it. Narancia was going to die today and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it.The image got more and more detailed in his mind, and it made him fall into a complete panicked state. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," He said over and over again until it became almost incoherent mumblings.

Narancia was feeling the complete and total opposite. He had no idea that it was even past midnight or the accursed day. He was happily mashing buttons on his PS2 controller until he started hearing sobs from Mista's room. He raised an eyebrow and paused the game as he died to go investigate before freezing unexpectedly. Not only did he think it was only 8pm and not almost 2 already, the date on the Playstation said 4-4. That caused Narancia to practically run over to Mista's room, not caring who else he woke up along the way. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten that it was that day, and was upset at himself for not remembering. The door was left cracked open, most likely from the fact that Mista was too panicked to actually close it. Narancia threw open the door and ran over to where Mista was, the sight he saw breaking his fragile little heart into a million pieces. "M-Mista? Oh no don't cry please don't cry I'm here," he mumbled out nervously as he sat down next to his boyfriend and started nuzzling into his neck. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here before..I didn't notice the date..go ahead and tell me what's wrong, I'm all ears," he rambled as he cleaned up a few of Mista's tears and looked at him intently.

Mista did not want Narancia to see him broken and panicked like this, but it helped with his anxiety and visions a lot so he managed to push the thought to the side for now. He took a deep breath in and out before putting his feelings into words. "Well..I keep having thoughts of..losing you. And I don't know what to do. I'm supposed to protect you but I couldn't. And it feels fuckin awful." Mista took another deep breath and started playing with his boyfriend's raven colored hair.

"O-oh..I'm sorry. I-" Narancia was about to try and comfort him but was cut off by the cries of six touch starved pistol children.

"Naranciaaaaaa! We missed youuu!" Cried out Number 1 before launching itself onto Narancia's chest, the other 5 pistols quickly following it. Mista felt his face flush as his Stand acted on their own accords, but didn't mind it in the slightest as it helped him forget what day it was.

"Aww! You know if you wanted me to touch you more you could've just asked. But I don't mind cuddling with the pistols, they're so cute!" Mista groaned quietly at the implication that he told the pistols to do what they were doing but didn't object because he really did want to be touched by his boyfriend as much as possible. As Narancia was cuddling his pistols, he made the mistake of randomly picking a pistol out of his chest to stroke with his fingers causing every other pistol to start yelling and fighting each other for his affection.

"He loves me the most!" Yelled out number 6, the one who got randomly selected.

"No he loves me the most!" Number 2 yelled back angrily.

"He doesn't love me at all..." sobbed out number 5.

And that continued for a while until the room was full of pistols screaming over each other and moving all around Narancia's body trying to cuddle him in a bunch of different places. Mista hated to admit it, but he was beginning to get jealous of his own Stand, though the warm feelings he got from them cuddling Narancia was enough to keep him quiet for a while. "Shut up you guys! He loves me more than all of you so that's the problem solved. Now get back in the gun before I take away your salami privileges for a month," Mista said as he gestured for the whiny pistol children to get into his gun.

"You're so mean to them! What did they ever do to you?" Narancia asked before turning back to the pistols. "Don't listen to him, he's just jealous of how much affection I show you guys. But you should probably get back in the gun because Mista's really panicked and upset right now, mkay?" Narancia asked in a voice that seemingly charmed and convinced the pistols immediately. He kissed each and every pistol goodbye as they hopped into Mista's gun before quickly burying his face back into his neck.

"How the hell do you control them so easily? And that made me feel a lot better, so thanks for that. Makes me wish I could do that with your stand, but I feel like it would look and feel weird if I cuddled with a plane." Mista yawned, reminding him that it was almost 2am. "I think I'm gonna go to bed. But uh..could you sleep in here tonight? It's still April 4th after all, no telling what could happen if we were alone."

"Yeah, of course! I need your big strong body to protect me from all the evil four monsters!" Narancia grinned as he laid down in Mista's bed. He was surprised at how soft it was, and was pleasantly surprised that it smelled like Mista.

"Mm.. love..you.." Mista mumbled out, already half asleep as he laid down and threw his arms around Narancia. They both fell asleep rather quickly and for the first time since the day started Mista didn't care that it was April 4th.

#naramis #narancia x mista #safe #fic

[flightfoot]

Divergent Points: ML Salt - Epilogue

AO3/FFN

…

…

…

Hm…?

A softness beneath her.

Heavy weight to her body.

Light filtering through closed eyelids.

She cracked her eyes open.

AH AH AH AH TOO LIGHT TOO LIGHT TURN IT OFF TURN IT OFF TURN IT OFF

“Tunitoff” she muttered, making a halfhearted effort to move some limb to block out the accursed light.

Noise rustled next to her.

“Honey come over here, take a look!”

“What is it dear- Marinette!”

Instinctively she turned her head to the side, cracking open her eyes once again.

Two fuzzy shapes dominated her vision, sharpening into familiar figures.

“Maman…? Papa…?”

“We’re here.”

Wait, why would her parents be here waiting for her to wake up? 

And…

Wait.

Where was ‘here’?

“What- what happened to me?” she asked, her voice thin and reedy.

Her mom answered her. “We’re not sure. This nice old man found you and your friends passed out on a rooftop. None of the doctors could find anything wrong with you, you just… none of you would wake up.”

Her friends…?

Reassuring Alya after experiencing her Nightmare World.

Nino explaining his encounter with the warped version of herself.

Adrien believing in her, telling her that she’d never go as far as her copy.

And that copy trying her hardest to convince her to give up on them.

She bolted upright, lethargy forgotten. “ARE THEY OKAY WHERE ARE THEY-”

A nurse opened the door. “What’s going on- oh you’re awake.”

Her head whipped around. “The people who were with me, are they okay?!”

It sounded like ‘Marinette’ was agreeing to free them before, but she’d never explicitly said she would, and with how much she hated them? She wasn’t counting on them being in good shape even if they WERE freed. Heck, she didn’t even know whether they were okay just after she’d been pulled through that portal and separated from them in the first place!

A commotion came from the hall. “WHERE’S MARINETTE?!”

The nurse sighed. “That makes the fourth one. I appreciate that you’re all worried about each other, but there ARE other patients in this ward trying to rest.”

The fourth…? So then..!

Her heart pounded. “They’re all awake too?”

“Yes, the first of you woke up just a few minutes ago, then another a minute later, and well, sounds like the last one’s up too.”

They were awake.

They were alive.

And judging from that outcry a moment ago? They were themselves.

She fell back onto the bed and closed her eyes, allowing herself a moment of rest.

They were safe.

“Can I see them?”

Her mom looked at her, concerned. “Honey you just woke up, and we don’t even know what - actually, can you tell us what happened?”

Huh.

Well at least she could be truthful.

“I’m not sure. One minute we were all having a picnic, then some white stuff came down from the sky and then… I guess we passed out?”

Her mom frowned. “An akuma maybe? We didn’t hear anything on the news, but some of them aren’t widely known and it’d explain why all of you woke up at once - never seen Ladybug and Chat Noir take that long to defeat one though. I hope they’re okay.”

Marinette just hummed.

Not an akuma, but probably safer to let everyone think that was the culprit.

Besides, she didn’t actually know what’d happened.

She sat up, trying to move to a more upright position once again.

Which was when she discovered all the tubes sticking out from her that she’d been too worried and exhausted to notice before.

“...How long was I out?”

“Somewhere between 22 and 24 hours, depending on how long you four were unconscious before you were discovered.”

Well that explained the need for all the tubes, especially with them not knowing how long she was gonna need them. She still needed nutrients, water, and to…

She blushed. “Uh… could we get all these tubes out of me? Please?”

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

After an examination by some doctors and being declared healthy, they removed the equipment. She promptly made a break for the bathroom. Didn’t help much since there wasn’t actually anything to get rid of, but it felt better afterwards at least. Catheters were NOT fun.

Her friends were similarly getting prepared to be able to leave. She didn’t get to see them unfortunately - by the time everything was done it was pretty late, and all of them were leaving pretty soon after being declared healthy. 

It worried her and she didn’t think she’d feel truly satisfied until she saw them again.

She touched her earrings. 

Luckily, that didn’t have to be very long.

MARINETTE may need to go home for the day.

LADYBUG had other plans.

First though, there was something she’d been wondering about. She hadn’t really had time to ask during the only time she’d had alone before this in the bathroom (plus she REALLY didn’t want to talk about anything at that time). 

Safely upstairs in her bedroom though?

“Tikki? Are you there?”

The little ladybug kwami flew out from her purse. “Marinette!”

“Tikki!”

She hugged her kwami as best she could, Tikki snuggling up against her. She’d worried about her kwami before with all their Miraculous missing, and while after she woke up she’d figured it was just because Tikki wasn’t affected by whatever-that-was and so wasn’t in the dream state, without being able to actually see her? Part of her just didn’t quite believe it.

After a moment they separated slightly, Tikki floating a foot away. 

“Tikki, what happened?”

“After you all collapsed we all spent a few minutes trying to wake you up, even getting… creative.”

“Creative?”

Did she WANT to know?

Tikki read her expression. She made a face. “Plagg thought that true love’s kiss might wake Adrien up. So he kissed him. On the lips.”

Well.

Points for Plagg being willing to go to great lengths to help Adrien she guessed?

“Luckily the salt stuff doesn’t affect us apparently. Plagg didn’t think to brush it off before kissing him.”

“Wait, salt stuff?”

Tikki shrugged. “That’s what Plagg said it tasted like.”

She continued. “Anyway after a few more minutes of that kind of thing, Wayzz flew off and got Master Fu. When he couldn’t figure it out either he contacted your parents, claiming he recognized you from when he’s seen you run out of the bakery. He didn’t even need to lie about that; he just recounted that time he chose you when you ‘saved’ him from walking into the road. From there your parents were able to contact everyone else’s parents and got you all shipped to the hospital.”

So that explained how they all got there. She’d figured as much, but it was good to hear it confirmed.

But it wasn’t what she meant.

“No, I mean, what was that salty stuff? Why were we out? And what was up with that dream world were in?”

“Dream world?”

Tikki didn’t seem surprised exactly, more thoughtful.

“Yeah. All of us were in it together - well not at first and I got separated at the end, but for most of it.”

The kwami hummed for a moment. “Can you tell me exactly what happened? I have some ideas, but that’ll help pin it down.”

She recounted the whole thing. Tikki nodded periodically, occasionally comforting her when she mentioned something disturbing, but didn’t interrupt.

At last she finished with Saltinette’s snap(after hearing of Plagg’s experience she figured it was a good nickname and it beat calling her ‘imposter’ all the time).

Tikki closed her eyes and crossed her arms for a minute.

“...Well?” Marinette asked.

Tikki opened her eyes again. “I suspect you four were pulled into some sort of rift energy between the dimensions.”

What?

“I have no idea what that means.”

“It’s like... “

She flew off, retrieving some pieces of paper Marinette had cut up earlier for a project.

She started moving the pieces around. “Normally different dimensions stay separate. But sometimes they collide.”

The paper ran into each other, crinkling both pieces.

“When that happens sometimes they’ll stick together briefly, and with the collision… well, sometimes things can leak from one world into another.”

Marinette frowned. “But these weren’t normal, full worlds. And Saltinette mentioned something about a ‘Source Universe’?”

Tikki nodded. “These dimensions aren’t always the same kind as this one. Some can be a bit more… ethereal. Conceptual. 

As for the Source Universe thing, Saltinette was right. I noticed we separated as soon as that akuma appeared that revealed everyone’s identities. It doesn’t really affect us much per se, but it DOES mean that whatever we do will stay mostly localized to just this universe - a Source Universe creates and affects an endless multitude of universes that spawned from it, often even after those universes separated.”

“So then… what WAS Saltinette? And why’d she go after us?”

“I’m not totally sure, but I think she might’ve been an offshoot from several other universes that split off from the Source, particularly of their negativity. If enough negative energy coalesces… well, you know how powerful that can be. Papillon uses that to warp and control people. If enough of it floats off of dimensions? They can make an entirely new dimensional being.”

“So she WAS the dimension?”

“Probably. She may not have had full control of all aspects though; she’d be more of an emerging consciousness rather than one that created everything from scratch. Plus well, it’s not like you consciously control or are even aware of everything your own body does, it just does it.”

That explained why she hadn’t been more effective at thwarting the four of them at least. 

She frowned. “Wait, if her dimension was more ethereal and if she just captured our minds… what would’ve happened if we’d stayed? If she hadn’t let us go?”

Tikki looked uncomfortable. “None of you would’ve woken up. Ever. And with your minds disconnected from your bodies, even your bodies perishing wouldn’t have freed you.”

WHAT.

“...I’m gonna try not to think about the implications of that.”

Tikki nodded vigorously. “Good idea! Maybe do something a little happier?”

Something happier…

Oh yeah!

“Hey Tikki, you up for transforming?”

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

Ladybug soared through the city.

This joy, this freedom, she’d come so close to never knowing it again - not really. Not truly. 

Maybe Saltinette could’ve made a Miraculous facsimile for her to pretend with. Would’ve created an entire fawning population to base their whole lives around her, to ensure that any ‘wrong’ committed against her was repaid a thousand-fold.

But those facsimilies wouldn’t have been real.

Those people wouldn’t have been real.

They’d have just been a fantasy, and ultimately? 

Her only company would’ve been a twisted version of herself.

Interacting with others carried risks. 

Misunderstandings happened.

Some people were even malicious.

Feelings could fray, people could lash out, say and do things they’d later regret.

But ultimately?

Ultimately it was worth it.

She alighted on the designated rooftop, Chat Noir, Carapace, and Rena Rouge already there looking worried.

They turned at the sound.

Ecstatic, raw joy filling their expressions as they realized she was there.

That she was okay.

Rushing over to her.

And mobbing her in a bone-crushing group hug.

She returned it as best she could, stretching her arms out in an attempt to encircle all three of them.

They were here.

They were okay.

If Saltinette had decided to keep them…!

...Maybe she couldn’t have.

Even during the short time they were there they kept breaking through her manipulations.

Through her control.

They always shown through.

#Divergent Points #ml fanfic #ml fandom salt #fandom salt

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Twenty One: Expedition

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Twenty One: Expedition

Notes: Can we talk about how amazing Bury the Light is? Ok, good. Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Moving on!

(-~-)

Considering the fact that he’d spent the better part of the night trying to ignore the feeling of tiny toddler toes digging into his back, the darkslayer had slept relatively well.

It had been challenging to him to even tolerate the concept of sharing a bed with another living being at first, more or less due to the fact that he had not done so in over two decades. Add to that the fact that he was still adjusting to the sensation of sleeping in a bed again after spending a lifetime in the underworld, and the fact that he had a difficult time sleeping through the night because he’d trained himself to wake up almost instantaneously at the slightest sound as a defense mechanism to prevent his enemies from being able to easily sneak up on him, and you had a recipe for an unpleasant night’s sleep practically evening. But there wasn’t much that the little boy could to to sway that outcome one way or another. Vergil was going to be cranky come breakfast time regardless of how little or how much he tossed and turned in his sleep.

Practically the second that the sun dared peak over the threshold of the windowsill, Kyle sat up and yawned, repeatedly jabbing Julio in the back with his free hand as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Once the middle child was up, so was his older brother. That was simply the way the children did things. As soon as Julio was roused and somewhat capable of functioning, he jabbed his little brother back, an action that immediately led into a poke fight. Had an adult, especially Vergil, been awake to see it, they would’ve more than likely dissuaded them, but the only “qualified” candidate was trying his level best to just tune out the world around himself and get a few moment’s rest.

Well, that was until Carlo woke up.

As if from nowhere, the little child sat up in the bed next to his grandfather and whimpered in frustration. His tiny child brain was incapable of processing the concept of lethargy, and as such desired nothing more than to turn back over and go to sleep. The main issue with that plan was that he didn’t comprehend this idea, so his only recourse was to become immediately flustered and frustrated. Clearly seeing that they had probably woken their baby brother up by accident, the two older boys shared a glance between one another before Kyle went to his younger sibling’s side and tried to shush him while Julio tentatively attempted to wake Vergil up in a manner that he assumed wouldn’t get him a stern lecture later on. Or worse, simply upset him.

Julio didn’t have the slightest idea why the older man was so… antisocial? Was that the right word for it? Regardless, he wanted to stay on his good side. While he wasn’t scared of him by any means since he assumed he meant them no harm and that Nero wouldn’t have entrusted them to someone who was a danger to them, he still didn’t want to make someone he barely knew upset. Vergil was supremely intimidating, especially to a small child. He didn’t want to be on his bad side, especially since he knew that he would probably tell Nero. The last thing he wanted was his father and his grandfather to be upset with him.

“Um… mr. Vergil? Can we go downstairs? I wanna find our mom.” Julio asked quietly as he gently prodded Vergil’s shoulder. He paused for a moment, waiting for Vergil to turn over and face him or sit up so that he could tell if he’d heard him, but he didn’t move. Still, right as he was considering repeating his request, the child stopped short of raising his hand to repeat his action. Something told him that Vergil was awake and probably just considering his request before delivering a reply. He couldn't be sure, but it just seemed like it to him.

“... Do you have any idea what time it is?” Vergil said in an almost hushed tone, still not moving. Not a single muscle shifted aside from the motion his lips made as his vocal cords moved in the proper manner necessary to assist in the production of the vernacular required to render his request audibly detectable. (Wait… what? Wha?)

The young boy glanced over at the analog clock that sat on the bedside table, unsure as to what the time had to do with anything. He’d overheard someone mention that breakfast went until noon, so he could only imagine that they hadn’t missed it yet. The others wouldn’t leave without them, right?

“Um… It’s nine o’clock, sir.”

Vergil sighed, still not moving. “Is that AM or PM, child?”

Julio furrowed his brow and glanced between Vergil, the window, and the clock, wondering for a moment if simply pointing out the level of light in the room would be an action that could get him into trouble for being rude. It was clearly morning. The sun wouldn’t be out if it wasn’t unless they’d been transported to another planet during the night. And if that was the case, they had an entirely different problem on their hands. After signing under his breath, he shrugged nebulously and decided to respond. After all, what harm could it do?

“That would be nine AM. It’s morning.” He made an earnest attempt to cover up how confused he was by the obvious question he’d just provided an obvious answer to, but Vergil caught the tone of his voice effortlessly. The blue devil slayer didn’t really care one way or another. He simply wanted to see what the child would say to him. He was Nero’s son, after all. Perhaps being around Kyrie or ever the adults at the orphanage they’d adopted him from had taught him some manners. He was inclined to assume the former as opposed to the later. 

From what he understood about public childcare institutions, especially the ones based in remote places like Fortuna, the concept of individual children receiving one on one time with the adults that supervised them was a completely foreign one. They more than likely had no time or interest in making sure that every single child was taught perfect manners, unless it served to expedite their adoption.

Why oh why did he have to meet Nero’s mother in Fortuna?

There were so many places he could conjure up that would've been preferable to that hyper-religious cultist paradise. And yet, there he’d found himself, digging through the archives that the Order of the Sword possessed, more than a little invested in finding out what -if anything- they could tell him about where his beloved father had disappeared to. To this day, Vergil had no idea where Sparda was or what had become of him, and it drove him slightly insane to consider it for any length of time. While it was realistic to assume that he had died and that he simply would never know, Vergil found it incredibly difficult to do so. After all, if the legendary Dark Knight Sparda had been struck down in combat against some unknown advisory, shouldn’t every demon in the underworld know about it? In all the time he’d spent in that accursed place, he’d never once heard such a rumor pass through circulation. The underworld worked on a different time rhythm than the human world did. Their little three day excursion turning into six weeks had been a perfect example of that. What was less than half a century to a seemingly immortal population?

He needed to stop thinking about it. The children needed to be returned to their parents. And he needed to find something to eat before he became even more irritable than he already was. After all, it was far too early to develop such a negative disposition towards the rest of his day. He hadn’t even ran into Dante yet. No, he had to pace himself or this day, like every other day, would get the better of him. There were too many possible undesirable outcomes to contend with to get so befuddled before even parting ways with his bed. He would get the children dressed and ready to meet back up with the rest of their family, and then he would plan accordingly from there. But first, the breakfast bar. He truly did need a snack.

For the sake of the hotel, he hoped they had something with blueberries in it…

(-~-)

Sun pierced the delicate green leaves as a cool breeze blew in from the north. The mountains parted, allowing an ample forest to line its borders. The creek that snakes across the ground in front of them had originated farther up the pass, it’s spawning point basically invisible from where they currently stood. And all the while V couldn’t help but wonder how in the hell he had allowed himself to be talked into this group hiking trip with the girls.

Nero had cited a desire to spend a few hours alone with Kyrie, a request that had garnered a few surprised looks and a teasing whistle from Dante, but they had resolved to head out without him, leaving the young devil hunter to his devices and at the mercy of his lovely domestic partner. Dante had decided to stay behind as well, stating that there was something he wanted to look into. While V was certain that probably had something to do with the fact that the girls hadn’t invited Vergil on this trip due to his lack of presence at the time they had decided to embark on it, he still wasn’t sure why he had decided to come at all. There had never been a time in his entire life that he had aspired to go hiking. Yes, he did enjoy nature in all it’s wild splendor, but he was also woefully clumsy, and clambering up a steep embankment was liable to get him injured in one way or another.

The group had stopped for a moment to catch their breaths when Patty chimed in, more than likely uncomfortable with the silence that had settled over the group. He’d realized that she was the talkative sort practically the moment he’d first seen her, though they had yet to actually introduce themselves to one another. She seemed friendly enough from what he could tell, however, and the others clearly adored her. The young blond woman had been around for quite some time and it showed.

“Ok, so like, I’ve just gotta ask… Does anyone know where we're going?” Patty asked as she gestured to the wide open space around them. She was clearly taken aback by the expanse laid out before her.” Because I like walking around in the woods as much as the next girl, but if I have to get Dante to find us out here or something, it’s going to be super embarrassing and he is never going to let me live it down. You know how he gets.”

“Look, your guess is as good as mine, Blondy. I don’t live here, either. Not even close.” Nico shrugged as she stood up from fixing her shoe. She’d managed to get caught on a fallen branch, and was having a hell of a time picking all the little pieces of debris out of her foot. “What I can tell ya is that V has a magic chicken, and that magic chicken is gonna help us find our way back if we get lost. It’s about the only thing it’s good for besides roasting over a campfire on a stick. A big stick because it’s a big chicken.”

V sighed, already aware that his avian companion wasn’t going to take that comment lying down. He could feel Griffon itching for a fight already, and he was still in his dormant form. The second he manifested, he was probably going to raise hell. For whatever reason, the mouthy bird had a special type of hate reserved for those who referred to him as a chicken. Perhaps he didn’t enjoy the idea of being edible? If so, he was in for a rude awakening if Shadow ever got particularly hungry…

As expected, Griffon suddenly materialized in front of him, clearly riled up and ready for a fight. His beautiful iridescent blue wings sparked it traces of electricity as he flapped furiously in place, shooting Nico an especially angry look. She just stared back at him, he hands on her hips. “You got somethin’ to say, lil chicke? Because you look upset. Better cool off before you roast yourself from the inside out.”

“Why you- now you look here missy, I’m no chicken! I’ll have you know, I was very dangerous in my heyday. You wouldn’t have wanted to mess with me when I was a few hundred sizes bigger!”

Nico shrugged, unthreatened by the mouthy bird. Picking fun at him was one of her favorite pastimes.” Then I would've just needed a bigger net… and a much bigger grill, because it sounds like there would’ve been leftovers! Now unless you're gonna help me fix my boot, go bother Trish or somethin’. I’m a lil busy.”

Griffon mumbled something under his breath about how he’d like to help her, earning him a stern look from V. While the summoner knew he wouldn’t actually do anything to Nico and she wouldn’t do anything to him, he still didn’t need him getting any ideas. Griffon was a crafty sort, and basically everything he did had some sort so wicked streak involved. The last thing he needed was Griffon accidentally igniting some of the dry underbrush and setting the entire forest alight. V had come there to enjoy the splendor and spectacle of nature, not destroy it. Rampant industrialization would do that at some point in the future without any needed input from him. All he needed to do at the moment was not trip over any of the rocks as he made his way to the precipice of the hill. 

Supposedly, there was a lake up ahead. That was the entire reason he’d hauled his beach gear all the way out there. After spending an entire day at the beach, the rest of the team had come to the conclusion that hanging out at the beach for hours at a time with nothing of real substance to entertain themselves with got relatively dull surprisingly quick. And while the pristine waters of the bay area and the shops were fun to look at and good at taking them for every cent that they owned, the forest provided much appreciated things like privacy, shade, and silence. The forest was obscenely quiet compared to the boardwalk, almost uncomfortably so. V almost had to almost physically fight off the urge to smirk as he considered all the quality reading time he might get in during this little expedition. Maybe camping was worth it after all…

“So, I don’t think we’ve talked before! I’m Patty Lowell. And your… um?”

It genuinely took V a minute to register that the young blond woman was talking to him. While they were not particularly far apart in age, he was considerably taller than her, so she just slid below his range of detection without much real effort on his part. That and her talkative nature had earned her a spot on his list of people that he tended to tune out. He had nothing against her, but he just liked to hear the silence inside of his own head every now and then. From what he could tell, she was quite nice, however.

“My apologies, Patty. You can call me V. I intended to introduce myself sooner, but I was… preoccupied.” He said, leaning over slightly to get a better look at her. She looked up at him and smirked, nodding in approval. He didn’t seem to need to elaborate any further as to what had held him up. Still, he was somewhat surprised upon reflection that he had managed to make it through an entire train ride and a dinner with her present without speaking to her even once. He wondered for a moment if she thought he was avoiding her. Hopefully that wasn’t the case.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! I didn’t think Dante had any family for years before you and Nero showed up. He used to seem so sad sometimes, but now there’s four of you guys! Who would've ever guessed that would happen?” Patty seemed elated as she practically skipped along the path next to him. Despite his towering height compared to her, his commitment to careful foot placement meant that he had to walk considerably slower than he normally did. He didn’t feel like falling on the loose rocks that dotted the river banks they were walking near.” Your his… nephew, right? Like, your Nero’s brother? Older or younger? I bet you're older. I don’t know why, maybe you just seem like you're more mature or something.”

V shrugged slightly and nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure if he’d consider himself more mature than Nero. Perhaps he thought things through a little longer before enacting his plans, but his younger sibling was bright and capable in his own right. Not to mention the responsibility he’d helped take on by helping Kyrie adopt the children. Where were they, by the way? He was willing to bet that little Carlo would enjoy the woods. Maybe they would meet up with them later?

“You’d be correct in that assessment. I am slightly older, although by what margin, I can’t say. We have different mothers.” V said simply, cursing himself internally as the ascended the steepest part of the embankment. The lake was becoming more visible now, though it seemed to be closer to the size of a very large pond than a lake, per say.

Patty made a face as though he’d just told her something absolutely scandalous. He could tell she was being dramatic on purpose, but she’d done so nonetheless and it was honestly somewhat entertaining how animated and excitable she was. To be fair, the idea that Vergil had managed to get multiple members of the opposite sex in bed with him during his youth while Dante had no children of his own was quite interesting in its own right. Maybe she wasn’t too off base after all.

As they reached the top of the hill and approached the pond, V took in the area around him. The scent of fresh water and wet leaves permeated the air as unseen birds chirped and crickets rubbed their legs together to produce their melodious song. Despite the ever present fact that the forest was simply uncomfortable quiet still nagging at the edges of his subconscious, he decided to push his concerns aside for a little while and try to relax. He was determined to make the most out of the situation, especially considering the way yesterday had gone, and it seemed that everyone else was, too.

He could only hope that Nero and Kyrie didn’t make… well, anything else.

Three was enough, as far as he was concerned.

The compact house they called home simply wasn’t big enough for any new editions.

(-~-)

Well, this was fun to write! Only two or three chapters left of the Beach Arc, and then they return… and then the fun really begins. Cue the Phantom of the Opera theme, because things are about to get… dramatic.

#Apocrypha #SkvaderFics #DMC #DMCV #DMC5 #Devil May Cry V #Vitale #V #Vergil #Carlo #Patty #Nico #Griffon #Kyle #Julio #Devil May Cry 5

[ask-garnet-n-ruby]

Uch to her horror, Velvet finds herself going into heat at the worst possible time, but thankfully, the Rose twins find her as she's frantically masturbating before she throws herself to anyone she regrets.

“Gods no, why did it have to happen today?” 

Velvet could not hold back the groan of growing discomfort as she pumped one of the largest made dildos she had on hand with her as fast as she possibly could in and out her pussy. The thick sex toy moving at a complete blur while her free hand was furiously rubbing her clit, hoping that it would give her the stimulation she desperately needed for a powerful orgasm that was building up inside of her.

Today had been the start of the one thing Velvet dreaded the most when it came to her faunus heritage. The accursed Heat Cycle; a time where her body would be reduced to a constant state of horniness. Rendering the poor bunny in a near incapacitated position as she could barely do a thing thanks to this mating season. In the past, she had gotten off rather lucky, as her heat cycles were never really bad and she could power through it no problem. But this year seemed to be by far her worst yet. Almost nothing she did seemed to work in relieving her pent up frustration. Even the dust infused dildos she had borrowed from Blake and Weiss were not doing a thing for her. If anything, she was starting to think that her body was actually ADJUSTING to these massive toys. God forbid if that was the case; regardless, as much as she hated to admit it, she needed cock, badly. But from where?!

Yatsuhashi and her entire team had left for a mission some time ago. The bunny having been left behind as Coco had understood that her Heat cycle was fast approaching. And she didn’t want it to come at a critical moment that could jeopardize her life severely. And she couldn’t just ask anyone to help her with this. The LAST thing she wanted was to have anyone in beacon have the gross misconception that she was some kind of slut. So who-

“Velvet?” 

The bunny faunus froze, color draining from her face as she looked up. To see one blushing Ruby and Garnet Rose staring at her from behind the bushes behind the academy. 

… Did she neglect to mention that she had currently stripped herself of her clothes and was masturbating shamelessly in the woods behind Beacon? As her heat crashed down on her while she had been rushing back to her team’s dorm room with the toys in hand?

Yes? Okay, moving on. 

“R-Ruby. G-Garnet, I- th-this…” The poor brunette couldn’t utter a single word. Her cheek burning hotly with horror and embarrassment. (She’d be damned if she were to admit, a part of it was also from arousal.) 

Garnet folded his arms as he and Ruby glanced at one another nodding with a grin. “Heat Cycle.” They said in unison

“Eh?” Velvet blinked stupefied. 

“Don’t worry, we know what’s going on with you Velv,” Garnet said. “Blake IS our partner after all.” 

“But man, going into heat must be an intense thing if it even has Velvet getting off outside in public,” Ruby said, unable to keep her eyes from wandering all over Velvet’s lovely body. Her entire figure glistening from the sweat that was rolling down. Smiling Ruby looked at faunus in the eyes. “Need a little help?”

Velvet immediately wanted to scream out “YES!” But could only muster up a meek nod; yelping as Garnet and Ruby walked up and scooped the girls and her belongings. Venturing deeper, to a more secluded part of the woods. Velvet let out a shameless sigh/moan, unable to hide her relief just from being in Garnet’s arms. “This spot should do.” She heard Ruby say before she was set down and placed on her knees. Looking up and watching the twins strip down themselves, her entire face red once they were naked as the day they were born. 

Ruby giggled at the expression on Velvet’s face, she and her older twin took their cocks and slapped the horny girl on the face. “Ready to get started Velv?” 

Velvet couldn’t speak, the moment the two fat cocks landed upon her face. Her brain shut down, taking in the powerful musky scent emanating from the shafts alone. It had been too much, too intense for her to handle. That she ended up cumming instantly right then and there. Her strongest climax yet, as her juices sprayed all over the grass beneath her. Panting as she if were a lowly bitch under a hot sun. The sight alone stunned the twins and made Garnet laughed. 

“She’s got it worst than Blake.” He commented, remembering how Blake had been the first time she went into heat with the twins. 

“Yeah, think she’ll be able to- WHOA!!!” 

Ruby yelped as she was suddenly on her back, Velvet hovering above her with a crazed look of lust and desire on her face. “I’m so sorry Ruby.” She could feel Velvet’s slick lips kissing the tip. “I can’t hold myself back anymore.”

Coming down on the huge cock, Velvet’s eyes nearly rolled into her head as the relief she had desperately urging for, was finally here. Her mind focusing on nothing else but pure pleasure as she rode Ruby. Bouncing aggressively on the monolithic length belonging to the younger Rose Twin. Ruby moaning loudly from the tight walls clamping down all around. Not wanting to let Velvet take full control, she matched the girl’s pace. Thrusting upwards and meeting her hips halfway. Grabbing a handful of Scarlatina’s plump cheeks, spreading them nice and wide. Revealing the twitching pucker for her brother. Smirking, Garnet lined himself up, plunging himself into Velvet’s back door. Making the faunus seized up, the growing ass slut side of her making her body cum once again all over Ruby. A shiver of ecstasy ran up her spine, unable to her voice back any longer as the twins ravaged her. Moving in perfect unity pistoning in and out of her tight holes. Making short work of the frustration of the heat that had been built up today. Another cry of happiness left Velvet as her back arched, due to Garnet pulling her back by her wrists. Giving Ruby a wonderful view of Velvet’s tits bouncing erratically in front of her face. 

Licking her lips, she pulled the faunus down, wrapping her lips around the pink-colored nipple. Adding more pleasure to the already cock drunk bunny, Velvet’s tongue lolled out. Her mind beyond comprehension, not caring if anyone saw her in this pathetic state. Only wanting to be fuck ruthlessly by the meaty cocks belonging to these amazing twins. Blake was so lucky, she got to be fucked like this every day between these two. 

“Think she’s okay?” Garnet asked amidst all his thrusting. Ruby looked up at the ahegao that was on Velvet’s face and saw that the girl was too far lost. 

“Nope.” She said, popping the ‘P’. I think us double-teaming her broke her almost instantly.”

“Well... one thing’s for certain...” He grunted. “She knows how to milk a cock, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Same.” Was all Ruby was able to get out before she and Garnet came at the same time. Blowing their loads inside of the heat-riddled Faunus. Hilted all the way deep inside, their cocks twitching slightly. Velvet shuddering as her insides were flooded with the two’s hot creamy baby batter. Her walls squeezing as much as she could. Wanting to make sure neither of them wasted a single drop on her. The three remained that way until the last of their seed was discharged inside of her. With a pleasant sigh, Ruby looked up, blinking surprised. 

“Ah, she passed out.” She noted, Velvet’s eyes completely in the back of her head, her body completely limp. 

“Guess that means we should sneak her back into the room then,” Garnet said looking down at his sister who smiled. 

“Nah!” They said before laughing. If Velvet was anything like Blake when it came to her heat. She wouldn’t be out of it for long and will wake up soon. And will want to go again. And, if they were being honest with themselves. 

Horny Faunus that entered Heat Cycles was one of the best types of sex they ever had. 

#Velvet Scarlatina #Ruby Rose #Garnet Rose #Red Velvet #Silk Roses

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Mercy (God!AU)

Summary: Three of the Gods visit the hospital ahead of time. - All characters are using their “true” God names in this fic.

WC: ~ 1634

Eyes shut. Hands flat. All six of them. Pressed to the Earth, because all though it is not hers, it belongs to the people and she can feel them better when she physically connects herself to that which gives them life. Yoni built this for them, right after Agape made her, and like this, Sapphiana can almost sense the love poured into each molecule. She doesn’t spend enough time on the Earth. Too much of her years she gives to looking after the heavens, and to the humans which have moved on, so that she’s nearly abandoned the living with the exception of the baby. She misses her baby. 

She pours her apology into the soil and feels the weight of it pressing back against her palms. Gravity holds it, sure, but things are attracted to their makers, and the Earth recognizes her as one, even if she does not mother it as Yoni has. Her children are primarily the clouds, slowly drifting above, as though they’re afraid to leave her side.

“You’re calling to them.”

Orexis has joined her now, whipping around her and tugging at her curls. She doesn’t know if he has no form or chooses to ignore it, but she can’t see him. Only hear his drawling voice slither across her cheek and feel the plants shift with his windy drag. There’s no telling how long he has merely watched, waiting for the chance to make his accursed appearance.

“I’m apologizing to them.”

He laughs in one ear, sighs in the other. “You’re allowed to grieve, you know. You loved him, we all knew it. What Agape did to you wasn’t fair.”

“That doesn’t mean I can abandon them.”

In a whip of cold air across her cheek, she hears his feet thud on the ground behind her. He’s chosen to take his human form again, his lips perpetually softer than flower petals against her temple. She’s learned to ignore how touchy he gets when he’s able; it doesn’t mean anything other than an effect of the longing he feels to exist in a way the rest of them do. Even Yoni’s dirt can be watered, Dapsilis’ foamy waves stirred. Another cruelty of Agape’s, to make the God of Soul and leave him unable to feel without changing himself. 

“All I’m saying is that you should have been able to keep him. You’re a good mother, sweetheart, and if you wanna have him back-”

“Stop.”

He falls silent, but his hands stroke her wings, grooming them for her because as powerful as she may be, she can never reach to do it herself. As he straightens each feather, audibly breathing slow and calm, she keeps reaching out to the people and realizes she’s been searching. Even in her attempts to make up for her absence, she’s being selfish and worrying about a single human who Agape promised would be fine in the home of two loving parents, true believers who were looking to adopt and would never bring pain to her baby.

“We’re checking out that hospital soon, aren’t we?” Orexis asks. He’s working on the feathers close to her shoulder blades now. “There’s a lot of believers in the area, and it’s a good place to be able to individually help people. I thought you were excited.”

It’s hard to find a response because she is excited, but she’s also dreading having to put on a facade of complacency. The humans will need to see her as useful and helpful and kind, and Agape will be upset to see her still moping. All she wants to do is sit here until she feels like she’s one with her people again.

“Come on now, don’t make me go get reinforcements. We should be going, you know time moves faster for them.”

He comes back around to her front and helps her to her feet, but instead of backing away, he cups her cheek and watches her with such a profound pain in his eyes that shows exactly how close he is to understanding. He has no family in the sense that Sapphiana did, but he’s lost himself. It had been awful to watch, but was for the best. There’s no sense dwelling on his past. Not when she’s drowning in her own. 

“Ana.”

She pulls away from him and takes a deep breath, allowing herself to settle into a human form as well. Pieces of her vanish, and she gets shorter until she’s left barely peeking over the height of Orexis’ shoulders. It makes her feel a little vulnerable. All soft flesh and fragile bones, capable of being damaged. She’s not as safe like this. Not that humans could kill her, even in this state, but they could very well hurt her if they so choose. 

“Where are the others?”

He hums and doesn’t answer her, bumps against her as though to remind her he’s still right there. She can feel in a deep part of herself that Yoni is nearby, nursing an orchard like the primitive record of a Garden of Eden. There had been one, so long ago, but it was destroyed by the humans, and so they blamed a single God they wrote as alone. If there was only one of them, it would be Agape, but he is incomplete. Yoni’s new paradise is long untouched by human hands, and grows the sweetest fruits, the most aromatic flowers, the loveliest insects. Sapphiana can feel at home there, on the rare occasion she goes in. Her baby had loved it as much as he loved Yoni, a constant presence helping her to raise the child. 

She follows the humming string of light, invisible to her own eyes but blinding to Agape and Orexis, its melody calling her to love until she’s able to see the loose tendrils of tawny hair flowing in the summery breeze, life to mirror the seedlings Yoni tends in the freshly-turned earth. 

“It’s time?” she asks. Her voice reminds Sapphiana of motherhood and shared blankets.

Orexis smiles. “For us three, anyway. And Sana, if she’d like.”

“She’s busy with the worms again.”

It’s sad, but poetic, the way Sana is life, but may as well be gone from existence. Sapphiana finds herself forgetting about her too often, too, the way Yoni did when the world began to turn against the empire and she discovered what it felt like to lay with humans not just the other Gods. She herself has recovered alright, and still indulges in the occasional pleasure. But Sana has never managed, and instead devoted much- some say too much- of her times to the worms. Yoni’s true form is full of them, along with the beetles and the apples and the mulch. Like Orexis, she spends little time in it. 

Orexis reaches for her hand and takes it. He doesn’t hold her hand like he holds Sapphiana’s, his grip a little loose as though he’s waiting for her to take flight. Whether it’s a matter of their personalities or his, she doesn’t know. 

They travel quickly, a blink to them but who knows how long to the humans, and find themselves outside the hospital. Agape isn’t with them, so time moves. Orexis is the only one dressed “normally,” in jeans and a sweatshirt, until he waves a hand to fix them. Yoni’s practicle, flowy garb is replaced with a dress in a sweet yellow, and Sapphiana’s gown disappears in favor of a tee shirt and leggings. She doesn’t like the feel of the fabric, but does not complain.

“I wanna show you something.”

Orexis tightens his grip on her and drags her into the hospital, where the first human she lays eyes on nearly makes her scream. He’s older, now. He has more freckles, and his hair is short, and there’s a shadow along his jaw. But that doesn’t matter. Her baby. She covers her mouth and reminds herself to breathe, because this fragile human body needs it, but all she can think about is that he made it.

“Breathe, Ana,” Orexis whispers. “You need to breathe.

She glances to her other side, and Yoni is just as shocked and overwhelmed. They weren’t the same, in terms of how invested they were, but she knows Yoni loved the child too, with so much of herself that she was similarly crushed for quite some time. Her baby, standing there in a white coat, a doctor seeking to help people with a questioning smile on his face when he catches her eye across the room. Of course he doesn’t recognize her. He was so young. 

Time freezes around them. The world stilled. Orexis pulls them both closer, and shuts his eyes like it will protect them. Agape is angry. Sapphiana doesn’t hear what he says, not intended for her, but it makes Orexis flinch and his human ears bleed. She reaches for him, as if to comfort, but he pushes her away and shakes her head. He’s gone, the wind again in an instant, and Yoni brushes some of Sapphiana’s hair out of her face.

“He’s okay,” she says. 

Sapphiana doesn’t know if she’s referring to her baby, Orexis, or both. Nonetheless, she nods, and the two of them make their leave, knowing that the memories of every human who saw them will be erased for their transgressions. She wonders, briefly, if Agape is angry enough to never let her see him again. Or worse, to steal the life the humans gave him, and leave her to take care of a young soul brought to heaven with no memory of his true mother.

When she falls back into her true form, safe and secure again, she wonders if she will ever be strong enough to make Agape pay for all that he’s done.

#god!au #chicago med #april sexton #crockett marcel #sarah reese