#... its just me and i look young and like i died two minutes ago

[stabyou]

me when running away from everyone makes me end up all alone:

[otakuworks]

❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | PART I | wc. 4.6K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' | overview. this webtoon follows the story of a woman who can somehow remember all her past lives.

sum. after a sweet hello, your lips never found its way to say the bittersweet goodbye. because you knew you would always find your way back to him even if he won't recognize you in your renewable lives.

note. some scenes are purposely inaccurate to the canon lore

main.mlist genshin.mlist | xiao ver.

You first met him as Morax, a little child dragon you grew up discreetly meeting at a very convenient time of your day, never knowing what's stored for the two of you.

He first met you as Y/N who resides at the countryside near Mt. Tianheng in hopes to find new things to discover across the vast lands of Teyvat. And he did. He found you.

Young Morax found you crouched under an oak tree, the wind flowing with your otherworldly voice, enrapturing him in blissful comfort.

Perched in the tree branch, he listens intently and let himself melt in your grace. It wasn't the first time he finds you warbling a melodic tune, and each time he comes back to hear more from you, it's always a different song and it wouldn't cease to amaze him how much ditty you know.

He lost count on how often he'd fall asleep with your voice lulling him and wakes up feeling empty as the epilogue of his day is always spent without your presence.

Sometimes he wonders if you know he has been watching you, and if you do, why aren't you approaching him? No matter, young Morax doesn't intend to befriend with you.

But then one day...

"Hello! You must be the boy who likes to hear me sing by the tree."

He was caught red handed, perhaps he became distracted that he didn't realize he's been shamelessly stalking you. He couldn't stop his curiosity to follow you in your way home.

Not only he's been spying on you, now he sounds like a stalker. But you didn't suspect, there wasn't anything to be suspicious of anyway.

"H-Huh? H-How did you know?" He gotta commend you for your keen senses. He's the Dragon between the two of you, which means he's supposed to be the one who has sharper senses.

"You must be good at anything but hiding. I have known you've been following me, but I never get to see you up close, you're really majestic looking, by the way." You chuckled as his poor attempt of masking his flushed face at your compliment.

"I don't mind your company, in fact, I want to be friends with you."

Friends. What a foreign concept for young Morax.

He has heard of that term, it's common among mortals, but he's not a mortal. Does this 'friend' term stretches to immortals like him as well? If so, then he has no reason to refuse.

Says the person who one minute ago thought of every alternative ways to stay out of your way.

He was skeptical at your optimism, most mortals would be astounded at his appearance and try to persuade him to spill whatever secrets he has, but as he got to know you better, he was a bit guilty to categorize you as one of them.

His horns and inhumane features? Young Morax found out you're only fascinated by his unique physical looks. And never doubted it.

"Cool! You have horns just like our boars, where did you get those? Can I touch them?"

"Did you just compare my horns to a pig? Pigs don't even have horns! How disgraceful!"

The sparkle in your eyes quickly died down as it came, and the young Morax feels tight in his chest just seeing your smile turns into a frown. You insulted his pride though!

You mumbled a meek apology but still kept your sheepish smile, a glimmer of hope that one day he'd let you do it.

The next days were spent by you sneaking out your house every midnight to meet up with the dragon, Morax. He's slightly skittish, oddly resembling him that of a cat, which is cute.

You probably shouldn't be calling a literal Dragon cute, legends depicted them as tyrannical creatures who seek treasures.

Ah! Classic children's story to scare the kids away at night, it did affect you in some way.

But you can't help it when he would eagerly look at you whenever he asks you to sing him a song.

You'd sit side by side under the tree, you have to admit he'd either falls asleep amidst your song or asks you for the lyrics so he can sing it to himself too.

You even dedicated a song that lets a certain flower bloom.

"Glaze Lily? What's that?" Young Morax asked with tilted head.

A smile outstretched your lips, "Beautiful, right? It transforms the memories of the land into its fragrance during florescence."

"Really?! Is that why you're always out in the dark?" You chuckled sheepishly, feigning ignorance, "Don't know what you're talking."

You got to know each other, held hands like innocent children, share what little knowledge your pea sized brain can, hug whenever one seeks comfort, eat under the glistening sun.

Morax is... a sensitive individual, albeit rough around the edges, but he's young and still learning, and you're unbelievably patient with his attitude— a quirk from you that he greatly appreciates.

From that, young Morax grew fond of you and it isn't one sided.

He flies by the same tree and gives you random things he finds magnificent, whether it could be a rock he found by the lake or a rare item that no one has ever discovered before.

Well, the legend wasn't lying about Dragons and treasure, for sure

You'd laugh at the strangest things he discovers but accepted them nonetheless. Every object he gives you is worth something.

This has been part of your routine for days, weeks, months, even years maybe. You don't know how much time has gone by whenever you're with him and you never bothered to count.

Before you know it, the two of you are almost in young adulthood, he grew up to be a fine man, much unlike you were expecting. Nothing changed from your friendship, until now.

You were taken by surprise when he suddenly blurted out one day

"I want to show you what I see from up there one day, Y/N."

He gazes at you much differently when he looks at you when you were younger. There's a glint of promise in his eyes that you can't pinpoint, it sent shivers all over your nerves.

"You can just fly me up there, Morax. I'm sure I'm not heavy." You muster a smile in an attempt to ease your quickening heartbeats.

He never gave a reply, he only stared at you so intensely that it feels like he's poking your deepest and innermost thoughts.

The way he stares at you never fails to summon the tickling butterflies in your stomach and the blood on your cheeks. You merely regarded that as your hormones, anyone would be flustered if someone they're close to stare at them like that.

You should've known better that nothing in your world stays permanent. The only thing you remember after that day was his twisted look of desperation to keep you alive and tear stained amber dyes trying to get the last image of you in his memories.

"N-No... Y/N please stay with me. D-Don't leave m-me just yet." It hurts you more than the numbing pain in your abdomen to see him broke down like a cornered prey. So helpless and vulnerable.

"I-I'll always be w-with you, Morax..."

So cruel, just when you've begun to realize the burgeoning feelings you have for the Dragon, fate took you away before you have the chance to confess.

Should you be selfish to confess your feelings to him? If you do, it seems like you'll be punishing him an endless torture ahead, and you would never wish Morax to suffer for eternity.

You only smiled and caressed his horns, even in your deathbed you're glad you died in the arms of the man you ever loved.

At the last moment, you heard the anguished wail erupts from his throat as he clutches your form closer, begging and crying for you to come back, to not leave him like this, that he needed you, that he loves you. His pleas fell on deaf ears, for you weren’t there to hear him anymore.

But it became clear to you that he reciprocated your love.

It came a shocking twist when you opened your eyes you can hear multiple cooing sounds from around you. Didn't I die in his arms? Where am I? Turns out, you were reborn. But not as Y/N anymore and you were given a surname.

Unfortunately, the Celestia isn't so forgiving. You were suffering from an unknown illness that took away your second life at such a young age.

You trained hard and learned martial arts in your third life as you were born from a family whose tradition is to produce well-trained warriors in the future.

Fourth to eight life came by like a blur, there were times when you get to lived as an innocent child only for it to be ripped away a few years later with your past memories resurfacing.

You stopped counting after it hits a dozen, born in different class, society and unnamed nation. There's no point of it.

All you want is to look for Morax, but will he remember you? Will he even recognize you as Y/N? You're no longer the kid he grew fond of. No, you're much different than before.

What about him? Decades have past, does he still know of your name? You could've been a fragment of his childhood that he dare not talk about with his new friends.

Will I make your life more difficult by trying to reconnect with you, Morax?

Those thoughts haunted you for nights, often occuring in your dreams.

But what can you do, you're so far away from Mt. Tianheng, you don't even know if the village you lived in still exists nor do you know if Morax still visits the tree you first met.

Even if you did meet him in your new life, you ought to stay as acquaintances.

Aiding him in the shadows and lessening his burdens within your power.

In your hundredth life, all of your training in your third life is proven useful at the moment. You're known as the infamous warrior with no name that took down the monsters around Teyvat, you were revered to the people in the Guili Assembly.

War is threatening to wage amongst Gods and mortals alike.

When it came, no one is safe in and out of the battlefield. To survive they must fight tooth and nail, paint the lands in sea of red and play the game of thrones.

It was gratuitously morbid, gruesome and unjust. A macabre of series of deaths surrounded your every wake, your hundredth life is the epitome of a living nightmare. Horrifyingly memorable.

You were at the sidelines, watching as the war unfold, keeping tabs on Morax's allies and eradicating whatever threat they face.

That's when you came across the stunning Goddess Guizhong, the Ruler of Clouds, Goddess of Dust. A very close companion of Morax whom he met at the Guili Assembly along with the others.

She's capable and quick-witted, a type of peculiar person Morax wouldn't hesitate to be friends with.

As of the moment, a claymore is alarmingly closing its gap towards her, ready to slice her open.

Then you heard him scream, a cry of a man who's about to lose everything he has gained of.

That cry sent flashbacks of his tear-stained cheeks. No, you don't want to see him like that again! You'd do anything to chase away that vulnerable image of Morax, he deserves happiness and love.

Your feet went autopilot and swept away the Goddess out of the way, severing your lower limbs in the process and instantly killing you. Your eyes opened and you have started your new life.

Was Morax relieve that Guizhong lived? Did he wonder why a stranger would save her? Did he ever ask who you were? Did he... recognize you at the very least?

Your new parents panicked as they tried to appease the crying infant in their arms. Unbeknownst to your pained heart.

You saw for a brief moment before your demise how Guizhong's plausible absence will affect him. He will mourn her death as much as he lamented yours. For decades or centuries, you know he has been scarred by your passing.

You don't want him to go through that again. It's a different pain you feel when you see him tearing up, you rather get minced by a claymore than to watch him break down.

He garnered the reputation of a tyrant— but you knew better that Morax grew up with compassionate heart, he appreciates anyone no matter how insignificant they think they are.

Which is why you hold yourself from meeting him. He may not remember you, but he will certainly get attached to you once you had your way to his heart.

And a dragon who can outlive you in any lives will only suffer more from your death.

You dedicated your lives in living peacefully, learning history and new things as humanity evolves.

You vow to never fall in love if it isn't Morax you'll spend your mortal life with.

Even if he has someone he can fall in love with.

"Have you heard about the land Lord Morax and Lady Guizhong are building in Mt. Tianheng?" Gossips are everywhere about the infamous partners who survived the Archon War, there's no mouth that has not utter their names, and you're no exception.

A grin spreads over your lips as you sip your tea with elegance, "I've heard, I haven't seen them in person but the rumors about them guaranteed they're ambitious people with good hearts."

This has been a hobby you never knew; praising Morax to elate people's opinion about him. It's your small contribution to his flourishing nation.

You want people to love and respect Morax dearly just as you loved him in your childhood.

You prayed to the new Archons for Morax to find someone he can love and lean on. Someone that can be his source of strength to keep living. Someone much better than leaving him with death.

Now that he found someone he can be with, your goal in your next lives is to protect Liyue's history.

From the names of ancient relics and objects, war waged by the Gods, Nations that were built underneath the once blood soaked lands, fallen heroes who are forgotten— you know all of them. You're openly willing to offer tutelage to the inquisitive.

You sighed at the thought, it certainly will be lonely in your part. Immortal gods can still die— a death in which they'd leave their memories behind and start anew. Morax will eventually cease to existence with lovable Nation and Guizhong to remember him.

And you? Countless past lives yet you never found true happiness, and none of them was worth to remember for anyone.

Part of you feels happy for Morax finally moving on from your death eons ago, but you're still human so you're susceptible to those horrible impulses of bitterness at a basic level.

But you don't want to be a person who looks at Guizhong with jaundiced eyes just because you couldn't have Morax, so you suck it up and move on the fact Morax is in love with another.

At least my sacrifice isn't a total waste.

"Aren't they? I've met Lady Guizhong, she's such a beautiful and soft spoken woman. She and the Lord of Geo are a perfect match. I wish the two of them eternal blessings."

A tug at your heart left an unpleasant feeling, your brain tried to reason that at least he's with someone that'll love him more than you did. That can appease your bitter aching heart a bit.

How ironic. You built a nation where you first met me.

And showed her what you can see up there like you promised me.

Is that how you honor my death, Morax?

"Wow! You sure do know many things, Y/N!" The floating emergency food expressed her awe in your display of knowledge and the traveller couldn't agree more with her, "She's right, you never cease to surprise us."

Their exclaims were followed by your enchanting laugh, "I'm glad I can be at your service, Honory Knight."

You were simply ethereal to look at, you maybe a mortal like the traveller but the Blondie thinks otherwise.

Paimon and her travelling buddy met you by the Starnach Cliff when they were attempting to subdue Dvalin. Jean and Diluc already know you're part of the Adventurer's Guild as you often visit Mondstadt from time to time.

They didn't expect you to join them in their excursion in Stormterror's Lair, it turns out you're a great addition to the team.

You befriended with the traveller after the whole Stormterror fiasco and catch up with Kaeya.

You don't stand out the most in the crowd, you can blend in with everyone and no one would acknowledge your existence. But the traveller can sense the weight of the wisdom you withhold.

It almost feels like you're one of the Seven...

"Is there something else I can help you with, Traveller?"

"Huh?! Oh... I— Uhh... You've been telling us stories and fun facts about Mondstadt. If you don't mind, can you tell us about Liyue?"

For an ephemeral moment, the traveller saw your facade crumbles and slowly morphed into a nostalgic expression.

"Hmm. I'll tell you a quick introduction. Liyue is built in Mt. Tianheng after the Lord of Geo attained one of seven seats, unlike the Anemo Archon who's known to not show himself, he descends down once a year to give blessings to the people of Liyue."

"Exactly how Venti told us, but more detailed."

"He sounds a lot more of a decent God than Tone-Deaf Bard."

Her statement elicited a quiet snicker from you, "I'll be off then, I'll see you around soon." Paimon's expression deflated, "You're not coming with us?"

You shake your head, "I'll visit you when I can, until then I hope for your safe travels."

You forced a smile and took a different path from the traveller, as their figures disappear in the horizon, you felt your smile slip up as the sun whisks past the mountains turning to dusk.

Solitude in the dark has been part of your daily routine, you come and go whenever you feel like it, not knowing when to return.

The excuse you told to Paimon isn't entirely a lie, you couldn't bring yourself to go in Liyue when there's active Fatui agents scattered around the vicinity.

Let's just say you're not in good terms with the Fatui. Who isn't?

Nevertheless, whatever curse you have continued to persist in your thousandth life. You roamed around Teyvat and tell stories that even historians don't know.

Repeated lives were lived by just you traversing in each corners of Teyvat that even Archons never knew it existed.

Along the way, you've come terms with your feelings and settled it down like a dormant volcano. Morax is your first love, you enjoyed reminiscing the memories you made with him, you keep those memories locked up in the depths of your mind and often recount them in particular leisure time of the day.

You still love him, and you'll always be by his side whenever he needs a helping hand, but enough is enough, you've suffered enough to your own idiocy and fears. It's time to move on.

Morax continued to strive forward because he has changed, for the better of course. If you want to continue living the next lives of yours then you need to change too.

You met new friends and companions that you begin to trust and have fun with, the traveller and the emergency food included. It wasn't lonely as you thought it would be.

Sometimes you wonder why do you have such curse bestowed upon you. Did the Celestia punish you for a crime? Did you touch a forbidden relic in your first life? Is there a way to get rid of it?

You stopped in your tracks and you gaze up in the sky.

Am I the only one with such curse?

Damn, you really need to get your priorities straight when you have so many unanswered questions.

Basking the remnants of the ever glowing star, you turn around to walk the path that leads you to the Land of Eternity.

A new journey awaits you as you skid through the mycelium path.

Rex Lapis has died.

What a year starting with the news of a tragic death of an Archon.

Fret not Liyue citizens, Rex Lapis assumed the form of Zhongli as a consultant in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. In all honesty, he thinks you would facepalm on how poorly delivered that news was.

Zhongli now blends in with the mortals, often strolling to acknowledge the accomplishments he has done as an Archon.

There were too many sacrifices he made just to achieve such title and godly powers. It's uncountable.

Whenever he strolls down the streets of Liyue, there's never a day that he is not reminded of the fact Mt. Tianheng is the very foundation of Liyue. It serves as a reminder that you are his pillar when intrusive thoughts start to linger in his mind.

Oftentimes, your face is only a blur in his memory, no matter what he does he can't seem to remember your face, but your name has been engraved on his mind for eons.

He misses hearing the sound of your name leaving his lips. He misses how ignorant you both were to the world's suffering. He misses your mesmerizing voice that lulls him to sleep.

Whoever fellow Archon listening to his complex thoughts must have heard him and granted his not-so-impossible wish.

"Hey look. Doesn't that sound like a story Y/N has told us before?" A child(e)— no, a floating fae pointed at the storyteller.

But Zhongli couldn't care less about whoever she was pointing. Did he hear her right? Was it just his ears deceiving him?

Y/N... that's your name.

That's the name he longed to hear again.

Why in the seven nations of Teyvat would they mention your name? Is it just a coincidence that someone has the same name as you? No, that couldn't be it.

Something flared inside him, it's been awhile since he felt this excitement, it's not far fetched when he became your friend.

With no recollection, he became friends with the traveller and the emergency food floating companion.

When he asks them about you, an array of hope filled his entire being and he swore his Dragon feature almost burst into existence

Y/N L/N, a member of the Adventurer's Guild, he's certain you've been in Liyue if you know about its rich culture.

But where are you? He wants to go find you. Hug you like when you were kids. Sing him songs. Bring you random things he can find. Speak the words that were left unspoken when you died.

So many questions brooding his mind; are you really Y/N? If so, were you reincarnated? Does that mean you don't remember him?

The elation he felt dropped. Right... he shouldn't be disappointed if it turns out his hunch is wrong. Even if you're not the Y/N he was expecting, he wants to know you as who you are and not compare the similarities and differences you have with the Y/N he knows.

"Oh yeah, Y/N mentioned they'll be visiting Liyue soon, Mr. Zhongli." The Traveler quipped, assessing the abrupt change of emotions on the consultant's face at the mention of your name.

Paimon and her travelling buddy can't help to wonder if you two are acquaintances, or perhaps something more than that. Zhongli seems to be expecting your arrival from now on.

"Is that so? Thank you for informing me, Traveler. I shall see to it that their stay will be comfortable." He smiled.

Stay in what? In the Funeral Parlor? The Traveler sweat drop while Paimon is tempted to point out that's Verr Goldet's job. Good thing their companion put a hand on her mouth and excuse themselves

There's no time to stall! He thought.

He's determined to check it himself, it can go two ways and Zhongli won't be petulant of the result.

Archons forbid if he ever finds you, because he will not let you go.

>> PART 2

©OTAKUWORKS | 2022

[ellabsweet]

[*ੈ✩] 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐎 • 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐒

synopsis: you believe your girlfriend ellie has cheated on you and return home only to fall into tears when suddenly your dad’s best friend decides to cheer you up

pairing: dbf!abby anderson x reader x ellie williams

warning: problematic age gap (reader is 20 abby is in her mid 30s), mentions of cheating and the act thereof, sex so minors and men do not interact, somewhat angsty and perhaps a multiple part series if you guys want it!

Tears welled up in your eyes as you attempted to hold back sobs, hands gripping the steering wheel with all of its strength as though the mere thought of letting go would’ve made you shatter onto the ground, collapse. You bit down hard on your lips, a failed attempt to silence yourself and your phone still occasionally lit up with notifications from Ellie you’ve stopped yourself from reading a while ago.

Els <3: Babe please talk to me. You know there is nothing going on, please. Let me explain it, you’re the only one. You’re my girl.

Once the missed calls and texts died down in defeat you could finally gather your thoughts in a sigh, hands rubbing your eyes with an agression unneeded to dry tears, and it suddenly dawned on you the feeling of a stare piercing through your side that your brain has been ignoring the past couple minutes, a curse escaping your lips as you saw the flipped light of your neighbour who calmly approached the car with a concerned expression.

Overprotection was a word so familiar to you it must’ve attached itself to your family tree, and Abby Anderson was its version personified, you had moved out and even then the furthest you could’ve gotten from your parents was straight next door to your dad’s best friend. She would be sure to tell them about this and your fate would remain to be scolded and ostracised for not being able to care of yourself, alone at night crying in a driveway like the foolish child they had always claimed you to be, over a girl nevertheless. You wanted to disappear, melt into the leather seats and escape her gaze, though it was far too late, the blonde was fast knocking on your window.

“Hey petal, you okay?” She asked as you rolled down the glass, hiding a sniff on your sweater’s sleeve, swallowing tears.

“Hi Ms.Anderson”

“It’s just Abby, sweetheart” She corrects you nonchalantly before slowly opening the car door and slipping into the seat next to you “It’s almost two in the morning, why are you out here crying? Do you need me to call your dad-“

“No! God, no! Please it’s just, just stupid. I saw my girlfriend kissing someone else. Didn’t want to go into the house and see pictures of her spread around my room yet”

“That’s not stupid. Heartbreak is always awful, especially when you’re young, I’m so sorry” She says, and with the kindness you dissolve into your crying once again, a mess of sobs. It takes Abby a moment, but it still happens far too quick, her arms suddenly wrapped around your shaking body drawing circles over your back as to calm you down, she’s hushing you and placing your hair behind your ears and you are deeply embarrassed but so far gone to stop “Shhh, petal, look at me”

“I’m so sorry. You deserve so much more than that” Her voice is low, steady, there is something in it that tastes like yearning at the tip of your tongue and all your attempts to brush it off as incoherent dissipated under her intense gaze, staring at you quizzically in a silence so pure it left only heavy breathing to echo and you were scared at your close faces she’d be able to hear your heartbeat, understand what you yourself were struggling to in that moment when her eyes dropped from yours onto your lips.

“Ms.Anderson…” You breathed out hesitantly

“It’s Abby” She corrects you once again until her thumb finds its way to your cheek, gripping your face in her palm as though debating something internally while you melt into her strong touch, finding a stability within her hold that you had been craving for a long while now, too flustered in your thoughts to fully consider what it means when she took that same finger and brushed it against your lips toying with its plump softness into opening lightly for her, finger coming into your mouth to be wet by your tongue flipping around it in a suction movement. The blue in Abby’s eyes darken.

She leans forward once your eyes trace up doe looking at her, she removes her finger with a pop to press your lips together and there is an unexpected softness within the hunger, she takes her time exploring the insides of your mouth gripping your chin to steady in place. There is still time to stop, she thinks to herself, but then her grip lowers to your throat in a light chokehold and the moans you kept release inside your kiss and its muffled sound is enough to drive her past sensibility and even insanity.

“Let me show you how a real woman takes care of you, please” She’s begging and you’re blushing and nodding furiously, a whimper stuck to your throat which is not enough for her “Use your words, petal”

“Y-yes, please” You stutter out not missing the smirk growing on her face, Abby is quick to trail kisses down your neck so wet it distracts you from her hands by the clasp of your bra letting it fall onto the car’s floor, she lifts your shirt up in one swift movement and suddenly her mouth is by your breasts, hovering over your nipples until her warm breath sent them into goosebumps. You whimper impatient and she chuckles taking one into her hand and the other into her mouth, tracing circles over your sensitive area until you’re panting, knees pressing together in anticipation for her tongue elsewhere.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” Abby whispers into your skin before moving onto the neglected breast for its own sucking “I bet your little girlfriend didn’t even know what to do with you”

Your eyes flash sadness amongst the arousal and Abby takes none of it, hands quickly unbuttoning the pants you wore and forcing them down your thighs before pressing a slap against them that shakes your body and clears your mind “Gonna make you feel good, yeah? Forget all about her”

She has her fingers down your underwear in a second, muttering curses under her breath at the wetness that completely enveloped her hand, she watches you squirm under her from the lightest of pressure and proceeds to push one finger inside, circling motions hitting your clit continuously, you are a mess of moans when her free hand grabs at your waist and straightens you forwards into riding her hand, second finger added.

“Such a good girl fucking herself on my fingers, such a fucking good girl” She mutters watching you pick up your pace, she’s kissing on your exposed skin and digging her nails across your back, uses her strenght to carry you onto her lap which only digs her fingers deeper inside you, a scream lodged in your throat from the overstimulation “Does she get you all worked up and wet like this, does she even know how to treat this pretty little pussy?” She slaps it with the question and your answer gets lost midway out.

“Abby, I’m gonna-“

“No you’re not, gotta taste you first, pretty girl” Just like that she flips you over, head where you once sat on the driver’s seat and legs up in the air, her mouth quickly latches onto your dripping cunt and it practically slurps on it.

Cat: She didn’t kiss me back. Didn’t want to need to text you this shit but Ellie’s crying and I didn’t want this to happen, I just thought she liked me. Guess she’s too into you. I don’t get it either.

Els<3: I’m kcmhng ovrr to ur hojse so we can talkkd okay pls wait fofr me i loeve you sos much baby

[wlw-imagines]

A Hunter By Trade - Ruby Lucas/Reader (Once Upon a Time)

prompt: "Could I request a Ruby(from OUAT) x reader one shot where R is a werewolf hunter and doesn't know Ruby is a werewolf and when R finds out Ruby is terrified that she'll leave her or kill her but instead the reader quits being a hunter and becomes a cop with Emma and David? Some fluff in the end?" - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing 

Having just finished your shift in the forest, hunting under Mr Gold's insistence, you were happy to finally be off work for another month and back with your girlfriend at Granny's Diner. Ruby's long hours of working there often meant you're schedules of night shifts and hers of day shifts would clash but for the next month you were free to spend time with her,

"Morning Y/N." Emma gave you a small wave as you walked into the Diner like you did every morning after work.

You sent Emma and Henry a tired smile, "Morning you two. Hot chocolate and waffles before school, Henry?" You asked the young boy who smiled cheekily and nodded, stuffing a forkful of his breakfast into his mouth.

You were going to stop for a chat before you realised you still had your hunting weapons on you and you should probably get rid of them. Your knife still strapped to your thigh and your silver gun still in its holster at your hip. Emma seemed to notice at the same time and was about to speak but was fortunately cut off by your girlfriend.

"Y/N! Good morning, how was work?" Ruby asked, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug.

In an attempt to make your working life sound normal you simply shrugged and mumbled, "Quiet", which wasn't too far from the truth. You had never actually told Ruby exactly what your job entailed. All she really knew was that you had to work night shifts. However, she seemed content enough with your answer and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

Smiling, you pulled her close to you. You missed her when you were out working, you enjoyed the warmth and comfort just being in her arms caused you. Then that little moment was ruined by Emma inevitably speaking up.

"Need a gun for work, Y/N?" You turned to see her raising an eyebrow, looking at you intensely over her own steaming drink.

You rolled your eyes, "It's perfectly legal Swan." Justifying your actions as you sensed her legal conscience was starting to make an appearance.

Ruby's grip on you slowly loosened and you noticed her frown slightly, "You have a gun? How didn't I know you have a gun?"

"It's nothing Ruby. It was my mother's before she died," You smiled softly but Ruby still seemed unconvinced, "Mr Gold kindly made sure I got it a couple of weeks ago. Just before the spell broke."

Ruby shifted slightly, looking more uneasy by the minute, "But what's it for? Why do you even need it?" She protested.

"Originally it was just in memory of my mother but then Gold needed a favour so I thought I'd help him out and so more recently I've just been using it to keep the town safe, I guess. That's all he asked me to do. It's kind of in my blood to do it." You smiled proudly, now knowing that your mother and your mother's mother had both been Hunter's and now, in your own little way, you were honouring that.

"Keeping the town safe, isn't that my job?" Emma now joined in the inquisition, making your head spin slightly, "And you’re doing work for Gold?"

"Just as a favour, I patrol the woods at night, but I-" You stopped and took a deep breath, deciding that if they could just see how harmless your gun truly was then they'd give you a break. "I've never shot a person with it." You said, meekly as you carefully placed the gun down on the table.

"A silver gun?" You heard Ruby ask in an unusually quiet voice.

You were about to respond when Henry's cutlery clattered onto his plate, "You hunt werewolves? You're a Hunter? How didn't I see this before?" He asked incredulously, putting two and two together. "But-" He looked at Ruby but before he could continue you interrupted him in order to defend yourself.

"Woah, kid, no one said anything about werewolves." You shook your head, whilst having found out recently that that was in your blood, there were things that you couldn't bring yourself to do. Killing another human, in any form, was one of them. "I’d never- Look, Gold hired me to make sure that the wolves- that any animals don't create havoc or ruin his land o-or affect farmland." You clicked your gun back into its holster as it clearly wasn't being any use in calming anyone down. In fact, you were just getting more and more flustered as more questions were fired at you.

"Sure, that's what he told you." Henry got increasingly agitated, "You know you shouldn't kill anything. Don't you know who Ruby-" Emma quickly stood up and spoke over Henry.

"Okay, okay, enough chit-chat. Henry, let's get you to school." She gave him a look and left enough money to cover the food and drink on the table.

"But-"

"Henry, now." She clicked her fingers and Henry sighed in defeat before picking his bag up. He gave Ruby an apologetic look and just looked at you, contemplating what to say as he walked past. Whatever it was got interrupted by his mother as she practically pulled him out of the now empty Diner, "Faster, Henry."

You watched them leave in confusion before turning to Ruby, "Babe, I-"

"I don't want to talk right now." She turned away from you, clearing Emma and Henry's table. You frowned and reached out to your girlfriend's side, pulling her gently to you. She swatted you away and you swore she almost let out a small growl, "Y/N, just leave me alone!"

You shook your head, "I don't understand, I practically do the same job as Emma but just with animals rather than people. I found something I'm actually good at Ruby! Why can't you be happy for me, I-"

"Was your Mother a werewolf hunter? Back in the Enchanted Forest. Was she a Hunter?" She interrupted you, her voice increasing in volume before she slammed the plates down behind the counter. "Did she hunt animals?"

You hesitated before finally nodding, "Yes." You admitted and Ruby scoffed.

"So it's 'in your blood' to kill animals, is it? To kill-"

"No! I mean... yeah. But-"

"Then why do you need a gun, a silver gun? With silver bullets? Used to kill werewolves. Why do you need weapons if you don't kill?"

"Okay, well, on the odd occasion, I've had to-"

"Great!" She let out a loud sarcastic laugh and shook her head.

"But only when it's really necessary. And I told you I don't kill people! Okay? Whatever form they're in, I will not kill a person, okay? I'm not my mother, Ruby-"

She shook her head and clenched her teeth, "It turns out there is still a lot I don't know about you Y/N." She whispered, looking you dead in the eye as she spoke.

"No, that's not fair. There are things about you that I don't know too. There are still things about everyone I thought I knew that I don't know because of this stupid curse but we're working it out!" You reasoned, willing yourself not to think the worse about this situation. There was a horrible silence as you waited for her to say something. Anything. And when she finally did, it wasn't what you had expected at all.

"I don't think I feel safe around you, Y/N." She backed away from you ever so slightly and refused to look you in the eye. For the first time you've known Ruby, she genuinely looked frightened. Of you.

Your stomach dropped at her confession and you shut your eyes for a few moments and took a second to breath. "If this is about the gun then I only have it to protect you, Ruby. It's to protect everyone. I love you. I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. I just want to protect you."

"From what?"

You clenched your fists and slammed a hand on the counter, tired from repeating the same thing. If Ruby had been wanting your answer to change each time to something she would rather hear then she was out of luck, "From rabid animals." You cried out, getting angry at such a stupid fight over such a tiny thing.

"What? Animals like me, you mean?" She asked, contrasting your loud anger with a quiet fear. Whilst her eyes looked terrified she attempted to make herself look brave and confrontational by jutting her chin up slightly and staring you down but you knew her too well.

The anger inside of you quickly dissipated and you slowly approached her, treating her like one would a spooked horse or a trapped rabbit. "What do you mean by that?"

"Y-You said that there were things you don't know about me and that's true." You watched as she began to crumble, her eyes starting to become tearful. "I'm a werewolf. Your kind hunt me and my kind." She finally croaked out.

You both stood and stared at each other over the counter for a few minutes, not quite knowing what to do. There was a part of you that couldn't believe you didn't know, that she hadn't told you. A whole other part started to recognise the little signs that you had slowly picked up on but stubbornly ignored.

The tiny bell at the top of the door to Granny's rung, knocking you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Now that the diner was no longer empty you couldn't stay there any longer. You need an explanation but it couldn't be done there and besides, there was something more important you had to do first, "I have to go." You finally spoke up, not quite daring to look into Ruby's tear soaked eyes and instead keeping your head down and walking out the door.

Driving around for hours to clear your head eventually led you to the Sheriff's department, knowing Emma would be there by now. You ran in, throwing your gun on the table and crossing your arms as you stared down at the blonde woman. "How long did you know who my girlfriend was?"

Emma sighed and grimaced slightly, "She told you?"

"Mhmm." You flopped down in the chair opposite Emma and started chewing your lip. There was a long pause between the two of you, seeing as you were completely absorbed with your own thoughts.

Emma took a deep breath, eventually choosing to cut off the silence, "What are you going to do?" You shook your head slightly.

"I was born to be a Hunter, Emma." You noticed her raise an eyebrow slightly and so you hastened to add, "But I love Ruby. So much." You'd never do anything to hurt her, that much you knew.

"You're going to return the gun to Gold?"

"No." You shrugged, "I'll lock it up someone safe, I suppose. So no one can make use of it."

Emma put her hand on your shoulder and smiled fondly, "You made the right decision."

You sat in silence for a bit, Emma leafing through some paperwork as you tried to get your brain to absorb everything that had happened in the last few hours, "I won't miss the long nights, that's for sure." You eventually said, only just realising you were technically now out of a job. "Anyway, I should go. Thanks Em, for helping me figure out what's right."

Just before you made your way out of the door, Emma stopped you in your tracks by shouting after you, "Hey, Y/N, if you need a job we might just have an opening here for you. Can't guarantee you'll never work a night shift again, but you can keep on protecting Ruby and the town. You can just do it a bit more legally." You slowly turned back to your friend and smiled, shooting her a quick nod.

"You're on, Swan."

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

It was gone noon once you were finished at the police station and you knew Ruby would have finished her shift by now so you swung by your shared apartment, hoping that she would be there.

You were torn between knocking and just walking straight in but ultimately chose the latter option, scared that if you were to knock then she wouldn't answer to you.

"Ruby?"

"I don't want to talk to you." A voice drifted from your left. You hesitantly licked your lips and followed her voice.

"Ruby-" You turned the corner to see her curled up on the sofa beneath a heavy red blanket.

She shook her head and you knew well enough to stop talking. "I just... I cannot believe you'd do this! That you would do something so stupid and so--" 

"I quit." You shrugged and took a step closer to your girlfriend.

"What?" She asked, head turning to the side slightly. You clenched your jaw at the pain you had caused within her.

You paused, formulating what you wanted to say before plunging into it. "I'm not a hunter anymore. I quit. I want nothing but to keep you safe and if you don't feel that way with me then I'll change."

Ruby stood up and shook her head, "I don't understand."

"I'd do anything for you. I love you." You finally wrapped your arms around Ruby's waist and pulled her into you, hovering your lips close to hers, "I'm sorry."

The smile on her face grew as she gazed into your eyes and her hands hovered over your hips. She begun to place a trail of kisses from your jaw down your neck. Ready to take it further, you pushed her slightly towards the sofa and tugged slightly at her red shorts. However, before you had the chance, Ruby pulled away and took a deep breath.

"What?" You asked, fearing you had done something wrong.

"What are you going to do now?" She asked, and you could still sense a dash of emotion reappearing from earlier. You pushed to do anything to clear her doubt about you.

You hooked your fingers in the belt loop holes of her shorts and winked, "What do you think about me in uniform?"

Ruby bit her lip and smirked, pushing you down on the sofa, "I think I could get used to the idea."

[anxietycroissant]

So I’m doing something fun with @turbulenthandholding , per usual. We are exchanging prompts for sydcarmy stories. I’m going to post a bit from two. Please vote for the one you want to keep reading, and that will be my next story on AO3. Scroll down below the poll to read the stories before you vote!

Prompt 1: Syd finds out Mikey’s grave is near her mom’s. (I actually came up with this one for @turbulenthandholding but accidentally started writing it before I realized what was happening.

The Cemetery Story

Every year leading up to April 8th, she forgave herself in advance for not finding the time to come and visit her mom’s grave on the anniversary of her death. But like always, she somehow found herself here. She brought the same last minute bouquet of white flowers from Whole Foods to lay on her mother’s grave. She knew both that the bones of her mother rested quite literally six feet under where she stood, and that she wouldn’t feel her mother’s spirit. It couldn’t be found on top of or underneath this quiet stretch of grass. She didn’t know where else to go, though, so she came to this place, where she could rub her fingers across the carved letters of her mother’s name.

She allowed her eyes to look anywhere they liked, anywhere except at the dates of her mother’s life etched into her headstone. She had died so young. It was too sad. She sighed loudly, biting her lip. “Love you, mom,” she murmured under her breath. “My life is just as fucked up as when I stopped by last year. I own a restaurant now. Well, co-own, I guess?” she amended. What more was there to say, when you had so many things to say that nothing would come out?

She crouched, letting her fingertips brush the buttery flower buds nestled in the bouquet she’d brought. She tapped one finger to her lips, and then gently touched the headstone. It would have to be enough. Pushing off the wet grass with her finger tips, she stood up quickly at the sound of crunching gravel nearby.

She glanced into and through a large bush, and could just make out someone on the other side of it. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but then the guy started to speak. She knew the voice, had memorized every variation in tone and pitch that it could produce. She knew its whispers, and lately she had become very familiar with what it sounded like screaming in her kitchen. The voice now sounded soft, bereft. She couldn’t hear any specific words he said, which assuaged her guilt over being nosy. She turned around slowly to begin walking away, and then he spoke her name.

“Syd, um. Remember how I told you I was so afraid she’d leave The Bear?” She couldn’t see his face but she could hear him practically sucking on a cigarette. Their location was so quiet that she felt trapped now. She couldn’t leave without revealing herself. The most she could do was turn her face further away.

He cleared his throat. “She um. She didn’t… leave? Exactly? But she told me, that, you know… this real fucking prick, Shapiro- we worked together a long time ago. He’s not that bad I guess? Uh anyway, he offered her CDC at his new spot. She said she really thought about taking it but ultimately just couldn’t.”

He sat in silence for a minute, moving the gravel in front of his foot back and forth in the silence. When he continued, it was almost a whisper. “I fucking know it’s my fault, too,” he admitted. It was strange. She didn’t feel Mikey’s presence exactly, but the air felt thicker. “How do I tell her? That I have no- fucking idea how… to do any of it? Mikey, if you could meet her, you’d get it. She’s so, so good. She doesn’t need me. I have no idea why she’s staying. I’ve been such an asshole. To everyone, to her,” He sighed.

she heard rustling. “I never told you, but when she started at The Beef? I was so fucked up, and she- she, right away, I could see it. I knew her. I knew she was brilliant, to good for that place. Too good for me. Too good for anywhere. But I just wanted to keep her,” he scoffed. “Mike,” he whispered, sounding spooked. “She made this risotto. You would have died. It just… it just needed, like, the tiniest tweak. But, anyway I was a dick about it. But I could taste her future. Her talent is so much bigger than like, I can even comprehend.”

He was silent for so long that she had to peek to see if he was still there. He was. Elegant fingers messing up his own tangled curls, he was biting his lip with red eyes. “I wish I could tell her, Bear,” he said, his voice raspy. “I want to give her everything she wants. Everything. Probably too much. Even if I don’t know how,” he added, that last sentence slipping out in a rush.

She heard his jacket rustle as he shifted. She could hear him humming, almost as if he was reacting to something another person said. And who was she to judge? Maybe he was.

He was quiet for a long moment, his hand worrying over his chin. Syd stared openly at Carmy as he marinated. She watched his face as different emotions danced across his finely carved features. She was pretty sure she saw sadness, frustration, humor, and maybe even a smidge of hope. Or maybe she was just a stalker.

“What would I say if she were here now? I- I don’t know, Mikey,” he admitted, choking out a meager laugh. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Syd, I’m sorry I’ve been such an unbelievable asshole to the one person I want to be better for? Oh, and yeah. I know you wanted to work together but I apparently never learned? And you should be the one teaching me?” He laughed bitterly, on a roll now.

“Or how about this? I tell her, “Oh and Syd, the thought of you working with Shapiro - that fucking prick, Jesus, Mikey, if she had actually said yes to that asshole I’d have never forgiven myself- anyway, the thought of you rather working with him than with me… learning that broke me.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Syd. How do I tell you? How do I show you? How important you are? How do I do that without making you feel less than?” He had tears in his eyes.

The weak sunlight cast his hair in a golden glow. In that moment, he looked like an angel who would never be so cunty in the kitchen. She almost admonished herself for using that label. But, she reasoned, men could be cunty too. She almost laughed out loud, but slapped a hand over her mouth.

The gentle slap of her fingers over her open mouth was not what she’d describe as gentle or silent. It was, in fact, audible in the empty cemetery. The smile disappeared from her face as Carmy whipped his head around, his eyes finding hers. They widened first in recognition, then disbelief.

“Syd?” he breathed. “Is that you? What… what the fuck are you doing… here?” he asked quietly, gesturing between them to the bush. Having lost the ability to speak, Syd pointed at her mom’s grave. Carmy took that as an invitation to walk over to her. He stood next to her, and then kneeled down to read her mother’s name.

He smoothed his forefinger over the inscription reverently, just as she had done. He was silent for a long moment before doing something that surprised her. “Hi, Mrs. Adamu,” he whispered. “I’m Carmy. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said awkwardly. Syd’s heart swelled. “Your daughter… I know you’re really proud already, but… I wish you could see her now. She’s really something special,” he muttered, looking down at his feet.

“Carmy,” Syd said hesitantly after making sure he was finished speaking. “Can you look at me, please?” she asked softly.

He looked at her then, his piercing blue eyes meeting her own. She couldn’t swear on it, but she thought she could see his pulse making the skin of his rose flushed neck stutter. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “How much.. um, of that did you- did you hear?” His voice shook slightly.

Syd winced. “Once I figured out it was you, I tried to tune you out but I couldn’t. And I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but like, there’s no way I have left without announcing I was here,” she said simply. “So I stayed.” She twisted a ring around her finger over and over, smiling nervously. She took a shaky breath.

“I believe you, Syd. But uh, how much? Were you here the… the… all that time?” His eyes searched hers.

She nodded, unsure what to say. She moved closer to him. He startled, eyebrows raised. She curled her fingers into the soft cotton covering his shoulder. “Carmy,” she breathed. She nodded. “I heard it,” she confirmed. Carmy closed his eyes, nodding once. He opened his eyes again and held her gaze. “Is there, um. Anything else you… you wanna say?” They were so close now they were almost touching.

His answering nod was so small that she almost didn’t see it. “Yeah,” he replied, his lips all but disappearing into a thin line. “I wanted to say some of this… you know, at the funeral. But then the guy that made me this way was there. And I had to confront him. You know, he’s why, Syd. He’s why New York was so shitty, why I have panic attacks. Why I… why I can’t just be-“ he broke off, his eyes shiny.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I confronted him. He’s still a piece of shit. He will- never change. But then, later, you were gone. And I, I realized. I’m putting all of this shit on you. My shit. Ruining this for you, taking away all the good parts. The things about it you love. I made it all about me, like you said. Syd,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, for all of it.”

Syd wiped at her wet cheeks, taking deep breaths. Looking down, she saw that she had moved even closer to Carmy. She was holding onto the tips of two of his fingers.

Prompt 2: Syd and Carmy are catering a party for Jimmy, post -season 3, in a fancy high rise apartment. Maybe the review came out and it's not bad but it's not stellar and Jimmy is trying to figure it out, so he asks them to do this. Syd and Carmy get trapped in the service elevator with trays as they are cleaning up afterwards

The Elevator Story

The service version of anything was always- by design- less than. Service entrances were often discreetly located on the side or around the back. Service staircases were simply adorned, with no frills. Who would they be for, after all? Utilitarian double doors, forlorn potted plants, and overstuffed cigarette receptacles were some of the glamor one could expect to grace a service entrance. Likewise, service elevators didn’t claim to be anything they weren’t. They were just to get from point A to point B.

Syd, however, would argue that it was more like rising from point A to B on the Y axis. There was not a cute way mathematically to say that she was ascending vertically in a shitty service elevator in a fancy high-rise building in a gentrified, annoying little bubble of Chicago with her business “partner”. They had been down and up a few times, sullenly taking their gear back to the van. But anyway, if the Y-axis was this shitty elevator, shooting straight up toward this building’s event space, then the X-axis was the things left unsaid between herself and Carmy. Things on the x-axis weren’t great. They hadn’t been for a while.

She noticed him looking at her. He had a little smirk on his stupid face. His strong cheekbones and soulful eyes fucking pissed her off. With all of the bullshit he’d put her through, he deserved to have an actual asshole instead of a mouth. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “What?” she asked aggressively, unintentionally flaring her nostrils. His eyes widened in surprise. He seemed to be in a perpetual state of surprise these days. How he could ever be surprised by the situation he found himself in, despite being responsible for it, blew her mind daily.

“Nothing,” he said in a low voice, sighing. “You were mumbling something about math. It was…” he stopped talking, catching sight of her expression. It was their day off, and she was in no mood for his shit. She had ultimately decided to reject Shapiro’s offer, but that didn’t mean much had changed. The big review that came out on the night of the funeral at Ever had been just decent enough escape the total wrath of Cicero. He still threatened them with data from Computer regularly. Hence the catering side job they had both agreed to do tonight. Everyone else had begged off, probably because the tension between Carmy and Syd was thicker than cold veal fat on a chilled plate.

“It was what?” Syd asked neutrally, daring him to say anything. “Nerdy?” She scoffed. She had heard that one before, although Carmy would never insult her in such an obvious way. He would insult her by excluding her. It was much more insidious, eating away at her one small bite at a time.

“It was fucking cute,” he muttered loud enough for her to hear. She could tell he didn’t mean to say it because his eyes grew impossibly wider. He cleared his throat. “Last trip back up there, I think,” he said quickly, clearly keen to change the subject. Syd was glad for the stainless steel utility cart in between the two of them. She’d take any distance she could get.

Syd rolled her eyes inwardly. Outwardly, she tried to keep a neutral expression. But had he truly called her cute? She was torn between smiling and being (even more) annoyed. She felt crabby, and he was picking at her. “You know what would have been cute?” she asked in a neutral tone. Carmy raised his eyebrows, looking earnest. He reminded her of one of those sad old men she saw who sat waiting for their wives on benches in the mall outside department stores. “It would have been a lot cuter and more cost-effective if we hadn’t done that fucking caviar station. But as usual, you didn’t listen to me. I don’t know why I’m even here anymore.”

Carmy had the nerve to look wounded. “Syd, where is this coming from? I agree with you completely! The fucking caviar thing was Cicero’s idea. You believe me, right?” he pleaded with her. She glared at him, one side of her mouth puckered.

“Forgive me for finding that hard to believe,” she said tonelessly. “You know what? Forget it,” she said, waving her hand. She wanted to avoid whatever arguments he desperately wanted to hold onto. “I don’t know why I bother anyway. Let’s just get this over with so we can get the fuck out of here.” At that moment, she noticed that they had been ascending very slowly for quite some time. How long had this little exchange been going on, anyway? They should have made it to the top by now. And she certainly hadn’t heard that whining mechanical noise during their last ascent.

“Carmy, shouldn’t we be there by now? This is taking for-” she broke off as the elevator slowed to a halt. They looked at each other. They heard and felt a grinding shudder below their feet before the elevator was finally silenced. “Fuck my life,” Syd uttered, sliding down to sit on the floor of the elevator. She just wanted to go home and mindlessly disassociate like a normal person. She couldn’t even look at her phone in this elevator; there was no signal.

Carmy held the call button for a long time until someone came on the line. He tried explaining their situation to the operator, but she could not have been less interested. “Sir, let me stop you there. This is a modern elevator. I can see your location in my system. I can also see the error code on the elevator. The motor has overheated. But the ventilation system appears to be in order. I’ll put in a work order for this elevator and call someone out to your location,” she recited robotically.

Syd huffed, sharing an incredulous glance with Carmy. “Um, sorry, but how long will that take?” she asked. Carmy’s brow was furrowed as he stared holes into the speaker.

The lady’s tinny voice responded almost at once. “Oh, no idea. I’ve called them out, but it’s late. I’m sending them to you, but the elevator will probably cool down before they get here. I’ll also alert the building’s management, but they’re not the most-” she stopped talking suddenly. Syd suddenly understood that this probably wasn’t the first issue this lady had logged with this particular building. She sighed.

“How long do you think it will take? Until either the elevator cools down enough, or the technician gets here?” Syd asked, her voice calmer now.

The lady’s tinny voice sounded once more from the speaker. “Thirty minutes to an hour is my best guess,” she said. “Just sit tight. Like I said, ventilation is working properly and this is a really minor issue. There’s nothing wrong with the motor or any other systems. You’re safe,” she assured them.

Seeing Syd’s dubious look, Carmy grimaced.

Ok I am tagging the blog names I can remember off the top of my head but I know I’ll forget some geniuses so please add them if you feel like it’s worth their time! ❤️

@turbulenthandholding @currymanganese @unbeweavvveable @moodyeucalyptus @bioloyg @sashafiercest @fpink202 @thoughtfulchaos773 @sydneys-adamu @purposechef @ciaomarie @amieraisposting @ambeauty @houseofevangelista @devisrina @angelica4equity @imliterallyjustablackgirl @inalltheirgorgeouscolors @laviejaguardia @kdbleu @mitocamdria @sydcarmy @sillygoose375

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Quicksilver Princess Ch. 5

Series summary: A fantasy AU in which Dean is part of a long line of warriors who protect the kingdom. What happens when his rescue of the little princess with the quicksilver eyes gets him a possible future bride?

Series Warnings: Nothing major. Show typical violence. Fantasy violence. Smut. Angst. Fluff. Each chapter will have its own specific warnings. So, watch for those.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x OFC (Melissande)

Word Count: 5,730

A/N: This is the ridiculously long postponed Chapter 5. (Ch. 4 was posted more than 2 years ago! 🙈🙈) This fic won my poll to see what orphaned series I'd finish next. And I'm so thrilled that I'm finally able to finish it. I swear Chapter 6 will be up in the next week or so at the latest. It's all outlined and ready to go, just gotta write it out. But it will DEFINITELY not be another two years. *crosses heart*

Hope you enjoy this chapter! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Dean came awake with a start, sitting up quickly and then immediately groaning and pressing his hand to his head as it throbbed. He squeezed his eyes closed for a minute, feeling slightly nauseous and trying to make sense of the jumble of images in his mind. 

Mellie's face floated into focus and his eyes popped open.

“Mellie?” He called out, sitting up quickly and looking around as his head throbbed again. A few feet away, Rowena held out her hands towards him.

“Try not to move too quickly. I had to use strong magic to fell you and that can sometimes leave a person feeling a wee bit peaky.”

Suddenly everything came rushing back to Dean and he jumped up, charging towards the tiny witch. He stopped just short of wrapping his hands around her neck, but his fingers itched from the restraint.

“You let her go!” He roared at her. “To save your own skin you gave her up just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Rowena shook her head. “You've really a very low opinion of me, haven't you? This is the second time you've accused me of selling out our wee princess.”

Dean clenched his teeth. “Because I know who you are and how you operate. You'd do anything to save yourself.”

Rowena shrugged. “I won't apologize for prioritizing my safety. But it just so happens that this time, the princess's safety and mine go hand in hand. I need her to stop the Queen because nothing that duplicitous, mangy monarch has planned could possibly do me, or any of us for that matter, any good.”

Dean swallowed hard. “So you sent Mellie out to be slaughtered, and you think THAT is a solution? If anything, you've just made the queen's attempt at power that much easier.”

Rowena shook her head. “No, because you are going to save her, remember?”

Dean growled in frustration, turning abruptly to begin pacing around thel grand entranceway. “You're as bad as Mellie! Just how am I supposed to get into the castle, past hundreds of guardsmen, through the queen's own personal guards and into her suites to stop her from…”

He lifted his arms and spun back to face the witch. “From what exactly? We have no idea what she's doing, what she's planning! So, how can I even try to go in prepared?”

Rowena nodded. “It’s a quandary to be sure, but you’re a resourceful young lad, I have faith you’ll figure it out.”

Dean just glared at her. Rowena raised a delicate shoulder. “Look, all I can tell you is that the Queen may pretend she’s a part of the Great Church as the monarchs are meant to be, but she’s a witch, through and through, except that she's a coward and hides it. But her father was a devout follower of the old gods, and he taught her to be the same.”

Dean frowned. “How do you know that?”

Rowena looked away coyly. “I maybe, perhaps, let him court me for a few years after his wife died.”

Dean’s eyes got wide. “So you know the Queen? Personally?”

Rowena scoffed. “I wouldn’t claim that much. When I was with Roland, little Layo’ita was hardly ever around. Her days were mostly spent learning how to marry King Yasa and be his First Queen. 

Yasa’s maiden aunt lived at Roland’s keep to teach Layo’ita how to be royal - the protocols and expectations, as well as the history of the Coll family’s reign of Sanso’ye for three hundred years. She had a lot to learn, so we didn’t see her often. She’d essentially been the Coll’s property from the day the betrothal papers were signed when she was just two weeks old.”

Rowena sighed. “I could almost feel sorry for her back then. She was just this plain little slip of a girl, and it must have been a very heavy burden for her to carry.”

Dean grit his teeth. “Yes, well now she’s a murderer, so I’m afraid I don’t share your sympathy.”

Rowena arched an eyebrow. “I said I could ALMOST feel sorry for her. But even back then, she had a kind of mean streak in her. And Roland encouraged it. When she was ten years old she was practicing a complicated courtier’s dance and slipped and fell flat on her arse. Her handmaid, the woman who had been assigned to her at birth, who’d doted on her constantly for ten years, chuckled slightly at the slip up and Layo’ita had her taken away and severely whipped. When he found out about it, Roland told her she’d done right, that she was a product of the old gods and they wouldn’t allow for mockery.”

Rowena’s lip curled. “I didn’t stay with him long after that.” She sighed. “I know for a fact that he encouraged her to pursue magic and the old ways. But she hides it very well. I don’t think many people in the kingdom even have a clue about her witchery. Hypocrite.” She huffed. 

Dean closed his eyes. “Alright, how does any of this help me? It just means that on top of the couple hundred guardsmen and personal guards between me and the Queen, apparently I also have her powerful magical abilities to contend with.”

“Yes, which is an important fact to know going in, don’t you think?” Rowena asked with pique. “You’re welcome, Winchester.”

Dean sighed. “Yes, thank you, Witch.” He rubbed a hand over his face. His stomach felt sick as he thought of Mellie holed up with a crazed, dark-hearted woman bent on power.

“I don’t know where to start.” He said, a little desperately. “Obviously I need help, but I’m telling you, the other Warriors won’t listen to me. Or the vast majority of them won’t.”

Rowena shook her head. “I think you’re underestimating your own persuasiveness as well as the Warriors’ sense of what’s right. The members of your clan have powerful instincts that skirt the edges of being magical themselves.”

“We are not magical.” Dean said with a frown. “We're just very good at our duties, and we take our oaths seriously.”

Rowena rolled her eyes. “As you say, dear. The point being that those good instincts will help them hear the truth of your mission.”

Dean shook his head and sighed deeply. “I suppose it's my only hope, isn't it?”

“Likely is.” She held up a finger. “Just wait one moment, I have something that might help you.”

She walked out of the room, but was back almost instantly with two small leather bundles that she handed to Dean. He looked at them and raised a brow.

Rowena covered them in his hand. “These reveal spell work. You've got a powerful witch on your hands, one who has been able to hide her magic for a very long time. But this bag will glow purple in the presence of magic and if you burn one, it will reveal to you what magic has been used, so you can't be fooled by trickery.”

Dean nodded. “That will be helpful, thank you.”

Rowena smiled at him, and he recognized it as genuine. “You can thank me when that wee princess is safe and that lying, cowardly Witch Queen is dead.”

Dean nodded. “Done.”

***

Melissande was trying not to panic.

The ride from Rowena’s to the castle had taken half a day. Her surrender had been simple enough; she’d merely told the Guardsmen that she was ready to be taken to the First Queen, and one of them had swept her up in front of him on his horse and shackled her wrists before galloping away. They’d traveled for hours and had arrived at the castle just as the sun was at its zenith in the sky.

The solar eclipse will happen in less than a day, Melissande thought with a little thrill of fear. But then she shook her head. No, I believe in you, my Winchester Warrior, I know you’ll get here on time.

When they got to the castle, the guard she’d been riding with lifted her down and then took her to a cell in the dungeons of the castle. It was bleak, but it was clean and there was one high window that let in some light and air.

As dungeons went, she supposed it could be worse.

She’d been to the King's Castle less than a dozen times throughout her life, and only a handful of times in the last dozen years. All her life she'd lived with her mother in the Blue wing of the Northern Castle. When she was younger, her father’s other wives and children had lived there too. The Second Queen had lived in the Yellow Wing with her son, and the Third Queen had lived in the Green Wing with her two daughters.

Melissande was many years younger than her other siblings and as such, they’d never been close. 

The First Queen had given birth to one son and one daughter. But the baby girl had died very shortly after birth, and she’d never met her eldest brother, heir to the throne, Prince Lien. By the time she was born, he was living far away, governing some of Sanso’ye’s territories in The Lands Beyond.

Her second brother, Prince Ar'tak, was a captain in the King’s Forces and fighting in some endless war across the sea. She only had vague, unreliable memories of him, since he left when she was barely four years old. 

Her two elder sisters, Par’ita, and Sol’min had been married off to lesser Princes in Misola, when Melissande was eight. They had been seventeen and eighteen respectively and with a decade separating their ages, they'd had very little interest in spending time with their eight year old half sister.

So, she didn’t really know any of her half-siblings very well, but she’d been close with her father. Or she thought she had.

But since he’d stopped coming to visit the Northern castle when she was six, she'd only seen him from afar during those official events that her mother had insisted they travel south to attend, “because it was the proper thing to do”. Her sisters’ weddings had been two of those occasions. 

Every time they'd gone to the castle, no matter how brief their visit, Melissande had always secretly hoped her father would notice her and come running, excited to see her once again, as he used to be.

She still remembered how it used to feel when he would come to visit. They usually knew he'd be coming, but sometimes he surprised them, and he'd stride through the door of their sitting room, and his deep, calm, voice would fill the stone room with warmth.

Melissande would jump up and run to him, despite her mother's loving admonishment that proper ladies didn't run and leap into people's arms. Her father had no such compunction, however, and would whisk her off the ground in a sweeping arc that made her squeal in delight.

Her mother may not have leapt into his arms, but she walked into them quickly, and happily. Her father would hold her in one arm and wrap the other around her mother's waist and pull her close. Hera would rest her head on his wide chest, and it was always the happiest Melissande ever saw her.

When he stopped coming to visit them, Melissande missed him terribly, but she didn't think her mother ever really got over his loss. She stayed the same loving, caring mother she'd always been, but underneath she always seemed just a little sad. It hurt Melissande's heart to know her mother died with that sadness still inside her; she’d never be relieved of it.

Maybe, if the priests or sorcerers were right, her mother was resting peacefully with her lost family and ancestors in another realm, and maybe Melissande would be able to see her there again, one day.

But not anytime soon. She thought. Because Dean is coming to save me.

As Melissande sank onto the dingy, slightly dusty floor, an idea came to her. Maybe Dean would reach out to the king and explain what was happening. She refused to believe her father knew everything that was going on, and was simply refusing to help her, or worse, was in on the Queen's plans.

Why hadn’t she thought to tell Dean to seek him out. Had she actually feared his involvement, deep down, or had he just been out of her life for so long, that reaching out to him for help simply hadn’t occurred to her.

Before she could ponder the troubling idea for long, however, Layo’ita came sweeping grandly into the dungeon to smile wickedly at Melissande in her cage.

The silver-eyed princess jumped to her feet quickly as the queen approached the bars of the cell. The First Queen was draped in seemingly endless silks, many layers of long trains trailing behind her in the dust. Her skin was pulled so tightly over her bones that her face resembled a grinning skull as she laughed at Melissande.

“Oh, my wee little bastard fey, how beautiful you've become. You favor your whorish mother, though of course, your eyes come from your father's side of the family.”

Melissande felt her muscles stiffen at the insult to her mother, but ignored it, since she knew Layo’ita was just trying to rile her. 

“You won't get away with this, witch. My father will stop you.”

The Queen's ghoulish mouth spread wide and a laugh that was almost a cackle poured out. 

“You think…” More laughter. “You believe your father will stop me?”

She stepped close to the bars and spoke softly. “Trust me when I say, he's most assuredly on my side.”

Melissande’s heart balked at that idea. But she hadn't seen her father for nearly thirteen years. Did she even really know him? Until she'd been sitting in this cell, it hadn't even occurred to her to go to him for help.

Layo'ita was still chuckling as she tilted her head as though contemplating Melissande. Then she nodded like she was answering her own question. 

“Why not?” She said aloud and snapped her fingers.

As fast as blinking, Melissande was suddenly in a different cell - a much darker one. There was no window here and the air was fetid and dank. It smelled like mold and old rotting things. As her eyes adjusted slowly, she could make out the stone walls, and the chains that were attached to them at various points.

All she could hear was a rhythmic drip, drip, drip of water off to her right, and the scuttling and scurrying of what had to be mice or rats of some kind.

Grateful that she wasn't attached to the chains that hung there, Melissande began walking around the long narrow cell. As she got a sense of her surroundings, she realized the room was split in two parts; a crumbling wall that was half collapsed, separated them.

She walked carefully towards the wall and then pulled up short when a voice called out from the other side.

“Who's there? Go away! Leave me alone!”

She jumped at the sudden noise, and her heart was beating out of her chest. But despite the stranger's words, she moved forward. There was something familiar in that voice, though it sounded parched and slightly raw.

She walked tentatively around to the other side of the half wall and her heart stopped all together as she saw the man huddled in the corner.

“Father?”

***

The taproom in King's Town was busy, but not stuffed full when Dean walked in. Good, he'd be able to be heard. The barman, Sterin, waved to Dean. He knew him well.

He began pouring his usual mug of ale, but Dean waved him off. 

“Apologies, Sterin, I have no time for drinking tonight. I'm only here to address your patrons.” He waved at the table of a dozen or so Warriors.

Both Sterin and the Warriors grumbled, most of the Winchesters turned away from him and concentrated intently on the ale in their cups.

But he was eternally grateful that two of his friends were there. Robert and Jody were a married couple who'd trained together and then fought together very impressively for more than twenty years. They'd always maintained a stalwart support of John and Sam, though most of their fellow Winchester Warriors said they were fools.

Their friendship had kept Dean sane in the early days after the loss of his father and brother.

They were stationed at the Southernmost Winchester Keep, located on The Shield, so they rarely came this far North. He wanted to believe it was Providence that had brought them so far just when he needed them the most.

They both stood up, and Jody came forward to hug him.

“Dean! We were going to head out to see you on our way back down south. But this is better! Now we can dine together.”

“And drink.” Robert added, shaking Dean's hand and slapping him on the back.

“It's so good to see you both, but I'm afraid I have no time to eat or drink.”

Robert's face became serious and Jody's was worried.

“What's wrong, son?” Robert asked.

Dean nodded at them, but called out to the other Warriors at the long table as well. 

“I need help from all of you.” A couple Winchesters looked his way, but most of them just ignored him.

“The kingdom needs you.”

That got a few more heads to turn in his direction.

One of the men he didn't know very well, he thought he was called Ketch, scowled at him. “And why should we believe anything you say, traitor.”

Robert bristled and took a step towards the snide man, but Dean grabbed his forearm. “No, it's fine.” He said in an easy tone.

“I just need you to listen.” Before he could be interrupted, he spoke quickly. “Fourth Queen Hera is dead, and her daughter, the Princess Melissande has been taken prisoner by the Guardsmen.”

He knew he'd hit the right nerve by mentioning the Guardsmen, as all the Warriors grumbled and a few actually spit as though they were warding off evil. The Warriors were not keen on the Guardsmen, feeling correctly that they'd been usurped by them.

Robert shook his head. “How can Queen Hera be dead? When did this happen? And what possible reason did those tin cans give for taking the little princess?” He asked, using the insulting nickname given to the Guardsmen because of their metal armor.

“The Queen was killed, and they took Mellie because the First Queen claims that she was the one who murdered her mother.”

There was general scoffing and disbelief among the group, including some of the other patrons. 

“Mellie?” Jody asked quietly, raising a knowing brow, while the others talked amongst themselves and shared their doubts.

Dean looked down at Jody and he knew she could read him like an open book, so he was grateful to look away and return to the questions being thrown at him. 

More slowly than he really had patience for, he eventually explained the whole story to everyone's satisfaction. He left out the part where he and Mellie got married. If they all lived through this he wanted her to have the ability to annul their marriage quietly and without harming her reputation. So, he simply told them that he'd tried to protect her without providing particulars.

He also left out the fact that he believed the First Queen was a powerful witch, only saying that they were unsure what the First Queen wanted with Mellie. That little detail might be too much for the credibility of the story. Also, they’d demand to know why he believed it and he didn’t want to sell Rowena out and bring her trouble. He just needed The Warriors to help him get in the door; he'd deal with the witch himself.

As the Warriors’ questions fell silent, Ketch raised one last important one.

“And where exactly is the King in all of this? I know over the last dozen years, he's taken a much more subdued role; most people agree that the attempt on his life by men he trusted completely, has made him overly cautious. But surely, in such a situation, with his wife murdered and his own child implicated, surely he'd show himself to deal with it.”

Dean nodded. “Exactly my thoughts, and yet we've heard nothing from him. He hasn't come to any of us or the Guardsmen to try and find the murderer. And in fact, no one even knows Queen Hera is dead.”

He took a deep breath. “I believe the King has been incapacitated in some way. I believe he is unable to act or to give voice to his needs.”

“Uh, Dean,” Jody raised her finger in the air. “Just one problem with that theory, Robert and I spoke with him earlier this afternoon and he wasn't incapacitated at all.”

Dean was taken aback. “Why and how did you meet with the King?”

Robert answered. “We've been after the Council for months now to sit down with us about the state of things in The Shield. There are marauders there, coming in from the sea, and killing and pillaging the villagers up and down the coast. But the council has refused every time, saying it was on us as Warriors to deal with it.”

Jody cut him off, clearly frustrated. “How we're supposed to ‘deal with it’ is beyond me. We have four Warriors to cover the entire Shield, and almost no resources. We've written endless letters that have gone unanswered, or were answered in a very unsatisfactory way. So today we finally just showed up and refused to leave until we met with the Council.”

“We met with them alright,“ Robert continued the story, “and the King was there too. We weren't expecting that. But he said he came because he was very annoyed with us. He told us that he was aware of the problem, but he was sick to death of hearing about how we were failing him once again. He was angry and certainly didn't seem incapable of voicing his concerns.”

Dean frowned, a frown that turned into a scowl as Ketch stared at him. “So, what exactly are we to believe, hmm? That the king is well and fine, but will not come to us for help because we are now despised thanks to your family? Or should we take you at your word, and believe this very intricate lie you've concocted?”

“I have spoken no lie here.” Dean said firmly, his voice dark and deep. “The Princess is being held by the First Queen, there is a plot to end her life, and it's up to us to save her. I don't know what the King's role is in all of this, but I feel in my gut that something has gone very wrong for him. I just don't understand what.”

He breathed in deeply and put every ounce of conviction into his words. 

“I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Mellie will die if we don't save her. So, I am asking you all, begging you, in fact, to believe me when I say the kingdom is in trouble. Believe me when I say, my father and brother were innocent. And believe me when I tell you that our answers, and our chance to once again fulfill our oaths to protect Sanso’ye and its people, are waiting beyond the Guardsmen at the gate. Our answers lay inside the castle, they lay in saving the princess that I've already saved once.”

He clenched his jaw, his resolve hardening. “And with or without you all, I will save her again.” He let his chest deflate. “But, I could sure use your swords, Winchesters.”

Robert and Jody flanked him. Jody patted his arm. “You have ours, gladly.”

Slowly a few of the others stood, and then more, and then finally all but Ketch, stood with swords at the ready. 

Dean stared at the last man sitting down and Ketch stared back, studying him. Finally, he drained his cup and stood. 

“It's about time someone showed those Guardsmen how it's done. I certainly won't miss out on that.”

Dean sighed and let a small smile lift the corner of his mouth. 

“Alright, what's the strategy?”

***

Melissande felt her world tilt as she looked down at the man she barely recognized as her father. Surely he hadn't deteriorated so much since she'd last seen him a year ago, at the Thistle Day celebration. It was the annual anniversary of the day the Coll family supposedly sprung from the earth in a field of Thistles to be caretakers of Sanso’ye. When she'd seen him from afar, he'd been fit, hale and hearty, as he'd given the royal benediction to the week long celebrations.

Now though, chained to the wall, he was gaunt almost to the point of starvation and even in the dim light that emanated from a small lamp sitting beside him, his skin looked gray and papery.

Beside the lamp sat an empty bucket and a few piles of bones, including what was obviously the skeleton of a rat. Melissande felt her stomach lurch and she was worried she might be sick.

As she took a few steps closer to the man on the ground, he picked up some of the bones and threw them at her. 

“Get away from me you shrew! I told you this won't work anymore. I know your disgusting tricks now.”

He was obviously furious, but his voice was reedy and thin as he railed at her. In spite of her confusion and fear, her heart broke for the pain she could hear in his words, and in the way he curled in on himself.

She took a step closer and he buried his head in his drawn up, skinny knees. “Can't you just leave me here to die.”

Tears fell as she knelt on the filthy floor beside him. “Papa?” She whispered and she saw him flinch like he'd been slapped. 

She reached out and tentatively touched his cheek. He raised his head and stared at her with tears falling. “Layo, please stop. I don't understand your hatred. Just stop.”

Melissande shook her head. “Papa, I don't know what you're saying. It's me. I'm not…I mean, how could I be the First Queen?”

She stayed close to him, and could see the change coming over his face as an obviously very wary hope cropped up. 

“Come…come closer, child.”

She got even closer to him and he inhaled deeply, sniffing at her. More confused than ever, Melissande looked at him and shook her head.

“What are you doing?”

Her father's mask of pain and fear slipped a little further into hope. “You…smell like sunshine.” He croaked, and more tears fell. “Her Duplicates always smell of rotting eggs.” 

His chains rattled as he lifted his manacled hand to reach out and touch her cheek. He gasped in a watery breath. 

“You're warm!” He said shakily. “Oh, beautiful girl, say you're really my sweet Melissande or just end me here, please, I beg you. I can't take having it ripped away from me again.”

“It's me, Papa. I promise. But what don't you want ripped away from you?”

“Hope.” He said, his voice creaky. “Every time she sends down a Duplicate, they work even harder to convince me that you, or Hera are here to save me. They seem to know things, and I want to believe them so badly. But no matter how real she makes them, she can't get rid of their cold skin or disgusting smell.”

Fear crept back into his gaze. “Please don't just be a better version.”

Melissande threw her arms around his neck like she had when she was little. 

“No, Papa. I'm real, I'm here. Believe me.”

“Alright.” He said gruffly. “I will believe you, because I want to so badly.”

Melissande pulled back, wiping away tears and shaking her head. “But I'm so confused. Why are you down here? How long have you been down here?”

Yasa looked at her and gave a watery sigh. “How old are you now, little one?”

Melissande blinked. “Nineteen, heading towards twenty years old. Why?”

“Well, I've completely lost track of time down here. I always tried to guess based on how old the Duplicates of you looked, and I knew it had been years, but I was never sure. If you're nineteen, though, then that means I've been down here for twelve years.”

Melissande gasped. “Twelve years! How is that possible? I just saw you a year ago on Thistle Day.”

Yasa shook his head. “No, that wasn't me. it was Thistle Day twelve years ago that she did this to me.”

“Twelve years.” Melissande whispered. “My god, that was when…” She stared at her father and raised a questioning brow, Dean's face swimming in her mind's eye.

“Papa, twelve years ago, The Winchester Warrior Chieftain, John, was hanged for an attempted assassination, on you. His son was incarcerated in the mines for aiding him. But, were you even there then?”

Yasa closed his eyes. “Yes, I was there. In fact, John and Sam were only in the castle that night because I'd called them to me.”

He ran a knobby, skinny hand down his face. “I suspected Layo was plotting something, but I didn't know what, and I didn't know who I could trust in the castle. So, I went to Sam and John on my own, hidden within a long traveling cloak so no one would know it was me. I asked them to come to the castle after midnight when it was quiet, and help me work out the truth, and to meet me in the library in the West Wing.”

He sighed and let his head drop back against the damp, weeping stone wall. 

“I knew Layo dabbled in a bit of magic here and there, but I had no idea she was so practiced and powerful.”

Yasa closed his eyes tightly. “When I went into the library to wait for them, she was already there, holding a knife to your throat. And when John and Sam arrived she was holding a knife to mine.”

Melissande was shaking her head as her father opened his eyes. “No, what do you mean? The Queen never kidnapped me or threatened me with a kni-”

Melissande's eyes widened. “A Duplicate.”

Yasa nodded. “Yes, and another when Sam and Dean saw me there being threatened. She needed to keep the real me alive to connect with her Duplicate, so she couldn't risk an actual knife to my throat. But Sam and John couldn't have known that.

How confused they must have been when, hours later, it seemed as if I just stood there while they were charged with trying to kill me. They must have believed I was in on their downfall, and they couldn't possibly know who to trust either. But I was locked up down here by then. Layo'ita came to my cell later, to tell me all about it and taunt me by reminding me that not only would no one ever be coming to save me, no one would even know I was gone.”

Melissande's eyes filled with tears as she thought about how hopeless that would feel.

Yasa reached out a manacled hand to wipe away the wetness from her cheek. “But that was my own fault, little one. I'd abandoned you and your mother, my other children and wives. You know, I never loved any of my wives the way I loved your mother. I married Layo’ita because it was my duty, I married Frishnia and Gayla because it was good politics. But I married your mother simply because I loved her so much. 

I respected my second and third wives as the mothers to my children and good women, and tried to make sure they were happy. And Layo'ita never seemed to care when I went to visit them and my other children. And I think it was because she knew that there was mutual respect between the three of us, but no deep love.”

He shook his head. “But as soon as I married Hera it was different. She was moody and jealous immediately. I tried to honor her as my first wife, tried to respect her and her position. But it was never enough. Until one day she demanded I stop visiting the Northern Castle altogether. It led to a tremendous fight and she wept bitterly, telling me I was being cruel and heartless and showing her no regard, to treat her so.”

He sighed deeply. “I felt horribly guilty. So, I said I'd stay away from all of you. I abandoned my children, abandoned my love, and for what? To appease the heart of a traitorous, vile witch. And a year later, I was down here.”

Yasa looked deeply into Melissande’s eyes. “Oh, my little silver-eyed princess, I'm so very grateful I've had the chance to unburden my heart to you, tell you my regrets for leaving you behind. Please forgive me. And please make sure your brother and sisters know I never should have left them either.”

Melissande took her father's hand. “I understand, Papa, and I do forgive you, of course. But I won't have to tell my siblings anything. You can tell them yourself. We're going to be rescued!”

She clasped her father's hand tightly between her own. “I swear to you, you're getting out of this disgusting place and we're going to feed you warm soups and wrap you in warm wool blankets and before you know it this place will be nothing but a memory.”

Sudden, high-pitched laughter broke through the air, making Melissande jump and gasp. The Queen's shrill, disembodied voice followed it. 

“Well, that’s partially true. You won't spend one more night in this place, my dear husband, I promise you that.”

Then just as before, without warning, there was the sound of a snap and suddenly both Melissande and Yasa were out of the dungeon and thrust into a brighter, but still windowless, round room.

Chains raised themselves from the wall and wrapped around Yasa’s wrists, pinning him against the stones.

Melissande felt herself being pushed along the floor as though a strong wind was at her back. She stumbled against a stone table and from out of nowhere, the First Queen appeared at her side, snapping her fingers again. Melissande found herself quickly strapped to the table, chains wrapping around her waist, and shackling her wrists and ankles to the table.

Queen Layo’ita smiled her dark, ghoulish smile. “One more sunrise for you both in just a few hours. And then, when the light is wholly eclipsed by the dark, I will be free to rise.”

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[harufluff]

’a little longer?’ 西村 力

warnings - none :)))) (unless you count angry jay as a warning...)

genre - fluff, kinda angst??? niki x gender neutral!reader

requested - kinda??? i requested to write an idea from someone….

a/n - im stealing the idea from @sieunslov3ly (with consent down worry). thanks for letting me use this btw!!! ilyyyyy <333

'I DONT WANNA LEAVE THOUGHHHHH'

you were pretty sure your neighbors were pissed by now. but what could you say? its young love between teenagers, what are you gonna do.

'riki you have to go home.'

reasoning with him is a no go. not even his hyungs, who you are trying to not worry at the moment, can get him to do something he doesn't want to do.

long story short, hanging out with your boyfriend was great! you went out for dinner and walked around shops until you both god tired and went back to your place for guess what? snuggles!!!

when you guys got home you just got in bed and talked for a few hours, but that gets boring fast considering you had been together all day, and you both started repeating subjects.

but now he's been at your place for three hours, after you spent three hours together out in the world. you've been together for six hours, starting at 6:00...

he's been doing nothing accept kissing you everywhere possible for the entire time.

and now its 12:00 am...oh this was not going to end well for you for riki. what you dont know is that his phone has been on silent this whole time, leaving him to not notice the notifications on his phone.

'c'mon, we should get out of bed and check the time.'

you say, dreading it but knowing you should for both of your well being. if you stayed there any longer your legs might fall off.

'but I dont want to...its so comfy here...'

you smile to yourself at your boyfriends cute, sleepy remarks.

'lets at least go check out phones just incase. hopefully no one died while we were in there'

riki gets up behind you and follows you like a lost puppy to where you left your phones coming into the house. before you even get to all your stuff you here a phone buzzing.

'riki, your getting a call.'

'oh really? its probably my hyungs checking in on me'

you grab his phone and pass it to him, grabbing your own in the process. when he answers the phone all the sound that comes out is..

'YAH NISHIMURA RIKI. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE BACK LIKE 3 HOURS AGO.'

jay's voice is heard on the other side of the phone. riki pulls the phone away from his ear, the yelling being loud enough to hear even though it's not even on speaker phone.

'sorry hyung, we got distracted'

'YOU BETTER BE HOME IN 10 MINUTES OR YOU'LL BE HEARING THIS ALL OVER AGAIN.'

he hangs up the phone before anything else can happen.

'come here, you better get ready to leave before we both get yelled at'

you walk him to the door, grabbing his stuff in the process so you can get him out the door and back home safely.

'but I dont wannaaaaaa. please dont make me y/n.'

he pouts at you with a full on puppy dog face, hoping that could give him a little longer with you.

'no. cmon you gotta g-'

youre sentence is cut short when riki pushes you up against the door. youre trapped. the door at your back, riki infant of you, his arms on the sides of you. there is no way out.

'please'

a kiss to your forehead

'please'

a kiss to your temple

'please'

a kiss to your cheekbone'

'please'

a kiss to your nose

'please'

and finally, a kiss to your lips. a long, passionate kiss that lingers even after he pulls away to say,

'please dont make me leave'

when he pulls away to get a look at your face, his eyes light up at seeing the pink blush on your cheeks.

'oh my god I made you blush'

he pulls his hands away from the door to place them on your cheeks and move your head to see the blush further.

'yea you always do you dork! now get out of here before you get yelled at again!'

you yell at him while pushing him out the door to go home.

'now go ho-'

'can I have one more?'

he stand below you, two steps down, just below your nose. you stare into his pleading eyes for a second before stepping just outside to lean over him and give him one finally kiss.

'now go home idiot.'

'I love you too'

he smiles then runs away happily in the direction of his dorms. oh he was getting yelled at tonight...

none of the images used in this post belong to me

credit to the owners ☺︎

I hope you liked it! thanks again to @sieunslov3ly for letting me write her idea. ily youuu!

written by harufluff | do not copy steal or repost on other websites

[jakes3resin]

gosh!! magic au!! theseus! chaos of having at the base and it’s like two bucky. gale would definitely be shocked!

That au really hit me like a fever dream, my dear anon. I was thinking about the Twin Cleven AU and the Blond Bucky bit I added when I remembered I tacked on a tiny Theseus Easter egg. 30 minutes later I had Magic AU in my drafts with no memory of writing it.

But I've sketched out some thoughts for you and for those who are interested (please keep in mind the last time I watched Fantastic Beasts was a few years ago so I don't remember much):

Bucky's a Scamander by his father (Theseus and Newt's uncle) but goes by his mother's maiden name as he was taken in by her brother and his wife.

Both his parents were magic, but they died near the end of the First World War. Bucky stayed with the Scamanders for a little while before eventually going to America before he turned 4. Theseus was very close with him, and they were occasionally mistaken as father and son due to the age difference (Theseus was a war hero during the First World War if I remember correctly?) (Also that could be an AU now that I think about it but not rn)

He has a bit of a British accent, comes out more when he's using magic. Or when he's around his cousins. First time Buck hears it, he just about faints.

Went to Hogwarts solely because his parents went there, and he wanted to feel close to them. Not sure what House but leaning Hufflepuff. He seems like he'd be happy there.

Enjoyed the school somewhat, but he dealt with some bullying due to his American upbringing as well as some of the students still remembered Newt and bullied him for that connection.

His favorite animal is still the unicorn. It's just not extinct like he said to Buck. What can I say? Every Scamander is good with magical animals.

Had an accidental falling out with the Scamander family who wanted him to move permanently to England and stay with them during his schooling, but he prefered spending his summers in America and winter holidays in the castle.

Came home before he turned 18 (I guess started Hogwarts young for his grade? Idk.) And decided to blend in to Muggle/No-Maj society by going to college and later joining the Air Force.

After Bucky's revelation to the RAF pilots, one of them writes home saying he met Theseus Scamander's cousin! This gets passed through Wizarding society until it lands in the ears of Theseus who didn't have a clue his cousin was in England, let alone serving in a Muggle unit. And after hearing about the death toll, he gets scared.

Theseus resolves to pop down there and check in on his cousin. And unknowingly reeks havoc upon Thorpes Abbotts.

Looks like this:

(This is in a nebulous point before Curtis' death because he deserves to be alive my baby boy)

Literally everyone that sees him is flabbergasted because 1) Major Egan is handsome but he never dresses like That and 2) Major Egan is supposed to be flying back from a mission right now. Word travels through base, and it's alight with rumors.

Theseus gets dragged to Kidd's office because literally everyone is freaking out, and he's quite confused why everyone keeps calling him Bucky. He tries to explain that he's Theseus and that he's here to see his cousin John, but every time he speaks the people around him all jump (its cause his accent spooks them. That accent should not be coming from someone who looks so much like Bucky in their mind. Boy are they in for a rude awakening.)

Bucky flies back in, and after interrogation, he doesn't even get a chance to change clothes before he's being dragged to Kidd's office. Buck and a few of the boys follow utterly confused. If Bucky's in trouble, Buck's not just gonna stand by.

Theseus happily greets Bucky when he walks into the office, and the pair have an okay reunion before Theseus states that he's here to check on his younger cousin, heavily implying that he's here to transfer Bucky to a British outfit as he's a British citizen and their family connections want to keep him safe (really a Wizard one but among Muggles he's better at speaking around the issue)

Thus an argument breaks out. Bucky's accent also comes out, and nearly everyone around him loses their minds.

Buck really, really does not want to talk about what that accent does to him. It's confusing and concerning. (Clegan are together, but when your partner busts out the London Accent, well that's a gamechanger)

Anyways idk where it goes after that, but now everyone has to deal with the fallout that Bucky is British and has a nearly identical cousin who pops in to check on him.

[the-avengers-ate-my-tongue]

State Of Disgrace (smut)

Summary: Being a Roy is harder than it looks.

Shipp: Kendall Roy x Cousin!Reader, Roman Roy x Cousin!Reader

Words: 2699k

Disclaimer: SMUT! it's not really proofread, I have to say, but I kinda like the way it came out.

I was five and he was six. We rode on horses made of sticks. He wore black and I wore white, he would always win the fight. 

I used to shoot him down.

Being a child was easy enough. Being a Roy child, however, was a bit more capricious than a regular household.

My mother died in childbirth. She was a lovely woman by the eyes of friends, a gold digger by the malicious judgements of others. Nevertheless, for me, she was nothing but a stranger. My father was Alistair Roy, the youngest brother of my uncle Logan, who tragically also died of extreme sadness due the loss of my mother. 

Some called it depression. I used to call it his swan song.

I moved in with Logan Roy at the raw age of two. Before that, I'd never even met him. My father, before his tragic passing, was just like uncle Ewan, you see. He avoided any further familiar contact with the capitalist monster and ruler of the empire of disgrace Waystar was to them. 

Uncle Logan was not a warm man. His wife, Caroline, was even worse. So, every warmth needed by a two year old was entirely given by my older cousins — whom I had also never met before — and Roman.

Roman and I had the same age, me being just a couple of months older. We grew instantly attached  hip to hip, so much everyone else started to call us "the twins". It was not, however, a praise title, but a Shakespearean war name, for ever since we'd got enough motor skills, we began to explore the vast world that extended to the huge grounds of our mansion. Then Siobhan came, a needy, smiley little girl that resembled her father so much. Connor and Kendall were excited with their new sister; I feared the small ounces of attention I gained daily would be threatened by her charming toothless smile and spikey gingerish hair. And Roman, as much as he was also happy with the new sister, shared the same inconscient dread, the crumbs he used to get from his mother as the youngest slowly fading away. That's when we got more and more agitated, gaining a few more reprimands as soon as another nanny would quit. 

I particularly remember a day where Roman and I distracted the nannies for one minute, fleeing to the pool area. It was a windy day; the crystal water trembled and rippled, the soft movements catching my clueless attention like Narcissus was caught by his reflection. However, instead of languishing away, I came too close, my balance still in development. 

The water received me with the cut of a thousand blades, cold as the feeling of danger that felt like a punch in my stomach. Roman's screams rang in my ears and, after almost half a minute submerged, it began to resemble a sorrowful howl, like a wolf pup. I was four, too young to fully comprehend what was happening, too old to suppress the memory of peace that instilled in my heart. I was no longer the sad little orphan, the spare suitcase that couldn't find its place.

Roman's howls were gone. In an instant, I would lose my sight as well. The deep, vast blue of the pool water and the tiles, the reflection of light on the surface above me were the only things I could see. My lungs, a few moments ago burning up with the invasion of that intruder substance, were now obsolete and dispensable. My body felt feeble and, for a moment, I was only pure conscience. 

It was right at that moment that Roman's face came to my mind. How could I ever leave him? We were parts of the same molding, made of the same matter. How could I allow him to carry the guilt of my accidental death for the rest of his life? 

That was not my call, though. I couldn't swim. If it wasn't for Connor, who was bringing some girl over to the infamous little pool house and heard Roman's cries for help, I would be dead and buried. I can still remember the feeling of the water being launched out of my lungs through my sore throat, the desperate sound of coughing and the tears that stained Roman's face while he stared at me still in panic with the prospect of losing me. That's precisely when I just knew we belonged together, as kindred souls, platonic or not.

Unfortunately, I would also find out later in life I would do anything in my power to feel that kind of lugubrious peace again. Furthermore, that state of disgrace would also bring me closer to another one of my cousins. 

Seasons came and changed the time. When I grew up, I called him mine.

He would always laugh and say

"Remember when we used to play?"

Restless adolescence. I began sipping on drinks when uncle Logan or Caroline weren't paying enough attention, developing quite a taste for neat whiskey. At thirteen, I drank (and cursed) like a middle aged sailor. At fifteen, all the alcohol was locked up and the waiters were instructed to keep an eye on me at parties. 

It was also the age of fickle flings and steamy makeouts with any boy who gave me enough attention — or enough booze. Never been much of a fan of stimulants, but the barbiturates… They were my bestest friends, knocking me out sometimes for a whole day, making the world seem distorted and distant from my usual cold reality. There was no one left to acknowledge my problems; Connor had moved out, Kendall was at Harvard and Logan had sent Roman to a military boarding school to try and cut a bit of our almost symbiotic connection. Shiv was penetrating the fearsome gates of puberty, so no one was able to keep a two minute conversation with her anymore. The nannies or maids weren't paid enough to care, and Logan's corporative minions only extended their attention when I used business vocabulary. Once I realized that, I began to read every piece of news, fully understand what meant to rule a media conglomerate and excerpts about corporate business. It was brain porn to me. Knowledge was as addictive as the drugs and booze, and I was a junkie craving attention like a moth to a flame.

Caroline left, leaving Shiv and I as the only girls in the house. I chose to take a step to the spotlight, being able to impress whoever tried to sink in deeper with my knowledge and grownup words. She's so mature for her age. So clever. So smart. She's got class conscience. Little Y/n Roy is all grown up! Logan noticed my sudden interest and stimulated as much as he could without showing any favoritism on my behalf, bringing me to Waystar with him sometimes, allowing Gerri to guide me on whatever I wanted to know and understand when it came to business. That actually brought me closer to the blonde, austere woman; I sought a motherly figure to tend to my emotional needs like a junkie with a needle. 

I was also surprisingly good at corporative game. It was like playing poker, the one who pretends the best gets to count the cards and win. Board vision. I began to, as my Sherlock Holmes books expertly instructed, actually observe more than just see. 

A peck with the teeth in the nails. A quick lick or bite on the bottom lip. Dilated pupils, nostrils flaring. Avoiding eye contact. All signs of discomfort or vice versa became crystal clear to me, showing up like Christmas lights. That also taught me to be an even better player, and I became a virtuoso of deceit. The difficulty of interaction I had with people I hated had faded completely and now, at sixteen years old, I felt absolutely nothing but a huge void that came with being in control of all my feelings. Sentiments made me weak, I had learned. It clouds the judgment and proliferates like maggots on rotting flesh. If one loses control over it, it's gone. 

That should also include vices, so I mannered my consumption, elaborating some sort of twisted diet with small albeit enough doses. Being in control  was exhilarating, and I felt as if I was at the top of the world. Drinks? Only in parties of sorts and reunions, and a single glass. Drugs? Just to keep me concentrated or calm, nothing more. Uncle Logan began to see my improvement, and a conversation about business school had been approached. 

After a while, however, it started to get a bit dull, always knowing the right thing to say or what everyone wanted to hear. Defiance and rebellion were in my veins. Uncle Ewan told my dad he wasn't going to marry my mom; uncle Logan, so I've heard, forbid him to bring her into family gatherings. Many scenes were detailed crudely by the press over the years, painting my parents as the villains of a dynasty and uncle Logan as some sort of Zeus almighty. For weeks, I expected the perfect opportunity for misbehaving. Nothing serious enough to reach my uncle's ears, but to, at the very least, assure my conscience I was still the same Y/n Roy, daughter of Alistair and Giorgiana Roy. I was in paradise craving the forbidden fruit without even knowing how it would manifest.

Until Kendall came back from Harvard for Thanksgiving holidays. 

He looked different then, somehow cooler, more confident and laid-back than he usually was. It was kind of comic how attractive Kendall could be when he wasn't looking like he had a pine tree up his ass. After dinner, I managed to suggest an innocent gathering in my bedroom to talk about college and news from the world outside the golden cage we were usually trapped into. 

"Hey, you should try this" he suddenly pulls a small bag of cocaine from his pocket, waving it in front of my eyes like a plate of meat to a starving dog. "Seriously, this is the shit."

I laughed in contained mockery, knowing that, if Kendall somehow felt diminished, he would slip through my fingers like sand. Instead, I watch him prepare some lines to blow using one of my school notebooks as support. Two lines after and I can no longer see the greenish of his irises, black englobing everything. If possible, he looks even more confident, this sort of bellicosity making him even more appealing to me. 

I switch my crossed legs from position. His now dark eyes accompany the movement, narrowing. I'm wearing a short skirt, and the way I move my legs makes me look like I'm recreating that one famous scene from Basic Instinct. 

He stares in silence for a few seconds, studying my face, seeming to be gathering the guts to do something. 

"Do you like what you see?" I suddenly ask, new acquired courage, one of my hands traveling through my dressed body. Kendall shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath trying to restrain himself. I wait for no response, pulling one of his hands and placing it right on one of my breasts, the warmth of his touch allowing a small sigh to escape my lips.

"Y/n… what uh… what game are you playing here?" He tries to organize his thoughts, but I purr like a kitten as if that simple touch of his feels like the grasp of a flame in the coldest winter. "Oh, fuck… don't… don't do that, come on."

"Don't act like you don't want it to happen. I don't see you removing your hand" I crawl in his direction, stopping from inches of his mouth. "I want you, Ken."

"Y/n, this isn't right, I mean, I'm fucking older than you, we're cousins…"

"So? So what? Come on, Ken. Don't you ever get tired of being a fucking model to this family? Daddy's little toy soldier?" I jolted forward, sitting on his lap. He doesn't stop me. "I fucking want you. How many were brave enough to say that to your face?"

I lick my lips as I rub my hips against his and a low grunt echoes on his throat. He looks almost helpless; it's pathetic. I can feel his dick getting hard underneath the dark denim pants, and that gives me some sort of enigmatic power, like I'm a form of Venus. Kendall's hands lift my skirt, moist visible in my underwear, almost staining his pants. 

"Fuck, Y/n… how are you so wet already?" He pushes my panties aside, losing his patience and ripping it apart, making me giggle. I start humping against his pants while kissing his jawline, touching his lips with mine for the first time. He tasted like minties, cigarettes and a bit of the whiskey we drank after dinner. After that, he finally decided to let go; his tongue invaded my mouth with passion, and he made me lay down on the floor, towering over me. I pulled his shirt, throwing it across the room, sucking the sensitive spot on his neck that caused him to let out some sexy moans with his deep voice. My cunt was pulsing to the point it started to actually hurt a bit.

"I need you, Ken." I said, starting to unbutton his jeans. 

"What a greedy little thing you are" he pulls my hands away, trapping them on the floor above my head by my wrists. With the free hand, he took his dick off his pants, the tip glowing with precum. 

He finally rested between my legs, the feeling of his head against my entrance making me a bit nervous for the first time that night. I got even more wet just with the expectation, and just when I was about to rush him, he entered me without a warning, a loud moan escaping my lips. My nails carved the skin of his hand, and he hastily quieted down my whimpers with a sloppy kiss, letting go of my arms and allowing me to wrap them around him.

"You okay?" He questioned, his gorgeous green eyes looking so sweet, so concerned, that I actually felt slightly guilty of using him to achieve my own whims. With a smile, I nod, and he moves painfully slow inside me, my breathing intensifying. It hurt at the beginning, but soon, the pain started to give in, and my hips began to synchronize with his own movements like an intricate dance, sweat accumulating on my forehead. My whole skin felt hot, feverish, and my hands grabbed Kendall's ass to pull him closer, my legs wrapped around his lower back.

His breathing changed, and he squeezed my skin so rough I was sure it would leave bruises tomorrow. 

"Y/n… fuck, wait… I'm gonna…" his body began to tremble as he fastened his movements, and a louder grunt came out of him while he poured himself inside me, leaning his forehead against mine. 

Our breaths mixed up, sweat dripping out, and a now pleasant and new pain between my legs. He laid on top of me until he became too heavy to endure, rolling his body sideways afterwards, laying on the cool marbled floor. I turn down on my stomach to face him, the cold white marble alleviating the pressure on my low abdomen. He looks herculean with his hair all messed up, face glistening with small drops of sweat and a peaceful manner in his eyes, eyes no longer darkened by the drugs, but clearer like leaves on springtime. 

We kissed a few more times, talked about trivialities, and he left soon after, placing a kiss on my shoulder, too hasty to record and too soft to ignore.

The matter was hardly discussed afterwards, and I never mentioned he was my first, not even when it happened again, and again. For many years, I told no one, the secret feeling like a little barb around my lower abdomen every time I saw him. 

Until I felt safe enough to share it with Roman. But that's a story for another time. 

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

okok so i was listening to remains of the day and i could not stop thinking of corpsegroom!eddie and victor!steve from @undreaming-fanfiction's Corpse Groom AU

Aneta, ilysm!! i hope you don't mind me adding onto your au!!! 🫶

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

Steve awoke slowly, blinking up at three (surprisingly) familiar faces. 

His kids.

Okay, not actually his kids, but the ones he took care of not that long ago. They had the same sort of blue tinge to their skin as Eddie did, but it was still them.

Wait...Eddie!

Steve sat up, way too fast, causing his head to spin.

“Whoa, slow down Steve.”

“Dustin? Dustin, what’s happening? You died! Years ago!” Steve frantically looks over the round faced boy, looking for any indication that this really wasn’t Dustin, but nope. He still looks exactly the same from the top of his curly-haired head right down to his feet.

“Yeah, I did. It’s not that big of a deal.” Dustin waves his hand nonchalantly and sits back on his heels from where he’d been kneeling over Steve.

“Not that–Dusty, buddy, I was crushed when you died. When all three of you did.” Steve looks at the other two, a red-headed young girl named Max, and the tall, lanky, and kind, Will. “I couldn’t believe you were all gone..”

“Well, it’s not like we meant to.” Max gripes at him, sitting cross-legged on the stone floor of…wherever this is.

She’s right, of course, the sickness that had shot through the kids of their small town had taken many under its cloak, but luckily only scurried away to the afterlife with a handful. Steve had found out half of his beloved group of kids (friends?) he’d watch over passed when he and his parents returned from holiday. Having skipped over the short-lived plague by happenstance.

He would’ve taken any of their places in a heartbeat.

“O-of course,” Steve stutters out, “I didn’t..”

“It’s okay Steve, we know you didn’t mean anything by it.” Will pats his leg and stands up, offers Steve a hand. “But the real question is, why did Eddie drag you down here.”

Steve lets Will pull him up, and he’s surprisingly strong, maybe it’s a symptom of being dead. Undead? Do you get stronger when you un-die?

“Eddie…Eddie! Where’s Eddie?” Steve looks around for the boy–nope, not really ‘boy’ any longer. The corpse that clawed itself out from under that tree definitely looked older than when Steve first knew him all those years ago.

Looking around the place, he meets the curious eyes and empty eye sockets of the other souls of this world. All those whose skin hadn’t quite gone had the same blue tinge as Eddie and the kids, and some still bore the marks of the events that’d taken them here. To this pub.

Is the afterlife only a run-down looking pub?

Dustin interrupts his scanning of the bar’s patrons. “We really need to play catch-up here, how do you know Eddie?”

“We–I–how do you know Eddie?” Steve retorts.

Max rolls her eyes. “Met him down here, of course.”

“He took us under his wing, helped us adjust…kept us out of too much trouble.” Will smiles.

“So, back to the original question, how do you know him? Dustin asks again. 

Steve lets out a long breath. “I knew him when I was young. Younger than you lot. He taught me to play piano.” Steve smiles at the memories of Eddie humming and singing along to whatever tune Steve’d make up. “He was a very good friend to me, until I just…stopped seeing him around. Whatever happened to him?”

Dustin winces minutely. “It’s kind of a long story..”

“And what a story it is!” A booming voice calls out from behind them.

Steve whips around, finally laying eyes on Eddie again. His arms are held wide as he’d come through the doorway to the bar, but the dirty, rumpled suit he wore and his full head of curls, now filled with debris, did nothing to staunch the glow coming off him. 

He’s so beautiful… and apparently just as much of a showman he’d been when Steve had known him, a fact that made him smile.

“It's a tragic tale of romance, passion, and a murder most foul.” Eddie continues, his low story-teller’s voice cutting through the background noise of the bar as he stalks toward them.

Max elbows Steve in the ribs and says, “This is gonna be good.” at the same time Steve catches Dustin grumbling, “..please don’t.”

Steve gulps. “Did he say ‘murder’?”

Max nods enthusiastically, obviously having heard this story before, while Dustin and Will grimace and nod unenthusiastically, also obviously having heard this story before.

“You all know how this begins, with little ol’ Eddie being cordoned off to his own side of town after getting caught befriending a Harrington.” Eddie begins his tale, speaking to and winding through the tables of patrons. “Can’t have us low-lifes on the ritzy side of Hawkins now, can we?”

Ouch. That stung a little.

“Life moved on, Eddie grew into a dashing young man,” Eddie stands straight and flashes a charming smile over the bar, one hand comes up to his chest and the other flings half of his dark mane over his shoulder. “Dashing enough to even make a deal with a more well-off family perhaps?

“A deal was bartered with the Cunninghams, to wed their only daughter to the once-distinguished Munson family.”

Steve knew of the Cunninghams, their only daughter was shipped off years ago to be wedded to the Carver’s first-born son in the next town over. He’d never heard that she’d once been thought of for marriage to Eddie, though he had been forbidden from knowing anything of the long-haired boy he’d met after his father had found out.

“But alas, the lone Munson heir was not one to choose the company of ladies, as lovely as Christine was and likely still is. She was his best friend, and he would not put her through a loveless marriage. Especially not when he had a love of his own.

“SO!” Eddie jumps up onto a rickety-looking chair with the exclamation, “He did what he thought best and he planned to run away.” he steps up further, onto the small wooden table, much to the apparent excitement of the skeleton seated there. “He took what remained of his family’s money, leftover dowry from his mother’s marriage to his father, and fled.

“That was the plan,” Eddie continues, plodding across the closely placed tables as he went. “Take the money and run, elope with his beloved; they’d already picked a meeting place, so he asked Chrissy to send word to his lover to meet that night, in the graveyard by the old oak tree.”

Oh no. That’s where he first found Eddie.

The crowd reacted together in a combined wail of “Don’t go!” as if rehearsed, all of them hanging on his word.

“I must!” Eddie replied, as if this was a play and not the tale of his own murder. “My darling dear will wait for me and we will flee to my only remaining family!”

“No!” the patrons yell again.

“Yes! We will go to Uncle Wayne, we’ll elope, start anew…we’ll get to be together.” Steve’s chest starts to constrict hearing the story-telling tone leaving Eddie’s voice. This was real. This is what he’d actually thought back then, back when he was alive, still full of hope.

“Oh no..” comes Will’s whispered voice beside Steve.

There’s a single beat of silence where Eddie seems to collect himself at the same time the crowd waits on baited breath (at least they would be if they had any) for him to continue, knowing what happens next.

Eddie jumps from the table he’d been atop to the nearby stage, spins around, and starts again, voice fully back in story-mode, and many-times-repeated words spill from his mouth.

“So there I was, next to the graveyard by the old oak tree, on a dark foggy night at a quarter to three. Ready to go! But where was he?”

Another round of call-and-answer picked up across the dingy bar, the entire place calling out, “And then?”

“I waited…”

“And then?”

“There!” Eddie points off to the side of the stage, “In the shadows, was it him?!”

“And then?”

“My poor little heart beat sooo loud….” Eddie clasped both hands over his un-beating heart.

“And then?!”

Eddie’s chest was heaving.

Steve took a step forward on instinct, not knowing if the panic on Eddie’s face was just for show.

“And then…everything went black.” The crowd gasps at once, all still seeming to be horrified by the turn of events no matter how many times Eddie may’ve told this tale.

Eddie starts speaking again, gaze far away, back in time. “When I opened my eyes, I was dead as dust. The meager amount I had on me, gone, along with the sound of my heartbeat.”

He starts back across the tables toward their little group, voice gaining confidence again as he recites his story. “So I made a vow, lying under that tree, that I’d wait for my true love to come set me free. So long I’ve been waiting for someone to ask for my hand,” He quick-steps down to the floor from a chair so generously pulled out for him by a kind looking woman more skin-and-bone than flesh.

“Then out of the blue comes this beautiful young man,” Eddie’s directly in front of Steve now, and reaches for his hands. Steve lets him take them, takes in the man in front of him, every last detail he can.

He’s just as beautiful as Steve remembers, even through the lens of crushing on someone much older than you; his hair was just as wild, his eyes as fiery, his hands much colder than the ones that used to guide his fingers along piano keys, but just as soft, just as sure.

What had not been there before was the dark purple, crumpled looking gash on his forehead, just under his hairline. The sight of which had pure rage boiling in Steve’s gut at whoever decided it was his place to take such a soul from the world.

“He who vowed forever, to stay by my side.” Eddie all but whispers.

Steve looks down at their hands and his heart squeezes in his chest at the sight of his ring on Eddie’s finger. He looks up with a smile, squeezing Eddie’s fingers in his and suddenly, the panic is back on Eddie’s face. For a fraction of a second, then replaced by one fully-cocksure. 

Steve’s hands are suddenly empty, Eddie spinning around to the crowd, “That’s my story. The story of your resident corpse groom!”

Eddie flings his arms wide, like he had when he first returned to the bar, and gives the raucous crowd a low bow. 

The muted claps of the corpses’ skin on skin, and the rattling ones of the skeletons around him are drowned out as Steve steps forward to place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Eddie, I–”

“No worries Stevie, I’ll get you back up to the surface again, no sweat.” Eddie takes a step backward, then another, his face under the grin falling sharply, “I gotta go find Elder Gutknecht, he’ll know how to get you back, no ties still tethered here.” then he turns and all but runs from the room.

———————-

ahhh!!! i couldnt get the idea of eddie, the story-teller he is, being the one telling his own story in remains of the day 🥺

[persephone11110]

rain is a good thing

Jake‘Hangman’Seresin x Reader

Chapter 5: Ubi Amor Ibi Dolor

Chapter Summary: Cardiac Arrest- when the heart stops beating suddenly, only Jake would go into cardiac minutes after Doctor Young leaves the room.

Warnings: medical induced coma, jake codes, sudden cardiac arrest,angst barely fluff, medical inaccuracys!!, mama seresin, mentions of child abuse, jake and y/n pov italicized is jakes, mentions of a dead family member — jake died grandma when he was a child

Characters: Gina Seresin, Doctor Kate Young(neurosurgeon), Doctor Mark Hayden(cardiothoracic surgeon), the daggers are mentioned but don’t have dialogue

A/n: i have no chill. thank you to everyone likes, reblogs and comments. I used a poem from Emily Dickinson— Hope Is The Thing With Feathers, the title is latin, latin for Where There’s Love Theres Pain

Previous | Next

Series Masterlist

WC: 1.1K

—

Everything was fine until it wasn’t.

You’d been reading Emily Dickson, your coworker Amy had been excitedly ranting about her months ago. Telling you and a few others nurses of how much she enjoyed her poems and how Dickinson has a way with words.

So you decided to give her a try.

You had no idea if it was true or not but you’ve heard as a trauma nurse that its good to talk to someone in coma as if their awake. It won’t make them wake up but it provides comfort to both you and the person. It also said during a coma the person can hear whatever happening outside. So you decided to read a few lines to Jake, wondering if he was bored of silence, of the constant tears you and Gina shed a couple times a day. The constant sounds all the machine made.

Hope is thing with feathers -

That perches the soul -

You sighed softly, god did you need hope- hope that Jake finally recovered enough to point were Doctor Young starts to ease his sedation. You had hope for you and Jake to rekindle whatever love you two had before you attacked him with accusations.

Whn do you realize you didn’t love me anymore?

You remember asking him— you expected him to say something worse, but he didn’t. He loved you even after you left him high and dry on a rainy day, with a hangover. You tore down his walls, he torn down your walls, you promised one another that the relationship would be better than your parents.

And sings the the tune without the words -

And never stops at all -

You hated when your mother compared you to your father. “You go tit for tat just like him Y/n, your anger just like him— not caring about the person on the receiving end of it”.

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

Jake hated when he got angry at you fearing that you wouldn’t see him, you see the men that you and him both feared. The men you two spent hiding from when they drank too much, the men who came home angry and ready to hurt everyone and everything in his path.

You and him hated being angry towards one another.

Gina wasn’t here at the moment she was inside Doctor Young office, discussing recovery and what Jake future looks like beyond it.

Could he return to flying?

You closed the book mumbling something about stretching your legs, getting food and finding Gina. As you left for the cafeteria you had some sudden urge to lean over a kiss Jake on his forehead. Saying something along the lines of “I missed you, I missed what we had”.

Look Jake thankful for the rest his body finally got, but at one point it even sleeping gets tiring. He’s supposed to cruising in his car to the base, he supposed up their flying for practice and fun, not laying in a hospital locked in his own mind.

He can’t use the bathroom by himself —hell he’s not even breathing on his own. Poor Y/n, the sounds of her sob when she first came to see him, he didn’t like that one bit. Jake didn’t like how she kept blaming herself for his accident or the breakup. How she deserved every little bad thing that came her way— he has remind himself to have a talk with his girl. Mama made it worse, with her constant apologies for the childhood she didn’t give him, for the constant pain his old man gave them both. Telling him about how much Rocky misses her buddy, how she’s starting to get in a mood.

The daggers came by to see him at some point, throwing threats around saying they’ll kill him first before he has the chance himself. They miss Jake’s constant sacarsm and insults and Bradshaw finally admitted that Jake had the better music taste.

Back to him and Y/n’s talk- usually Jake Seresin doesn’t do plans he just goes with the flow, rips the bandaid right off with ease but this time he can’t. He has to somehow tell Y/n he heard her say how much she missed him.

“I missed you Jake, I missed what we had”.

And god did he miss his girl, missed her body impression she left on the her side of the bed they shared. Her laughter- when she laughed you could see her tongue poking through her right cheek.

He wished he could just wake up, as if only it was that easy.

Jake wished he could keep thinking about his plan and future but a agitating pain in his chest kept interrupting his thinking. If only Jake could open his damn mouth and ask someone to give him something.

Jake wanted to reach his hand out and ask mama or Y/n for help. His body feels like he coming off adrenaline rush.

He didn’t hear neither mama or Y/n anymore.

What he did hear is a beeping sound getting louder and louder, what he didn’t hear was the sound of Y/n gasps and footsteps leaving his room abruptly, he didn’t hear how panicked she sounded when she yelled his name.

He didn’t see the amount of nurses that ran into his room, as they swarmed around him, them yelling a bunch of numbers, someone yelling page Dr. Hayden, Dr. Young.

The pressure in his chest got worse.

He didn’t feel Doctor Young flash a pen light in his eyes. He didn’t feel the pressure being applied to chest every two minutes, he didn’t hear them count to thirty.

He didn’t see mama and Y/n standing outside his hospital room with tears in their eyes, he didn’t see Y/n pacing up and down the hallway.

He did see the place he spent his entire childhood in.

Jake remembered this place, it was place he ran to every time he needed a break from his parents. A place filled with warmth and love, a place he knew that would protect him from harm.

“Hi sweetheart” Jake turned his around too see a woman he recognized immediately, Jake looked at her with a confused look, she smiles at him,“I knew you smelled my brownies from a mile away”. She closed the oven, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist.

“Grandma Lou…”. Jakes voice shook and he shakily took steps towards her, she opened her arms and Jake softly fell into them. “I’ve missed you”.

“I missed you too sweetheart”, she cupped the back of Jakes head, he was leaning in her touch. “Take a brownie, little one”. She lets go of Jake, Grandma Lou hands him a brownie from off the stove,“I know how much they make you feel better”.

She gives Jake a grin, as Grandma Lou gets his plate ready she ushers Jake into a chair, reminding him to sit and eat.

As Jakes chomping away at the brownie, she smiles at him again,“Take your time sweetheart”.

The heavy pressure in Jakes chest started to go away.

Taglist: @chocolatefartstrawberry, @buckysteveloki-me, @dontletthemtakeyoualive, @classyunknownlover, @els-marvelvsp, @i-am-mrsreckless, @cinderellasmissingshoes

[swemory]

Messy CoD: Ghost's headcannons ::

on the topic of CoD charachters as animals, Merrick strikes me as a bear. dunno ENTIRELY why. i saw this other post montttthhhssss back(more like a year ago) of someone headcannoning that Merrick kind of instinctively starts watching out for the Walker brother's/doting on them more after Elias' death and i REALLY resonate with that.

he takes care of his cubs :) definitely gets protective of the two brothers after his best friends death. (also headcannon that Elias and Merrick were closer buds than we got to see. those two definitely drink beer together.) Merrick seems like the kind of guy to have never seen himself as a father figure, its just an instinctive move after Elias dies since the two boys are still pretty young adults. (dunno if the person said all this in their posts, i have zero way of finding them again 😭😭)

(i was getting stuffed animals from build a bear nd making them themed as CoD charachters and i have a bear one as Merrick because of this[lmk if you want a bear!Merrick reveal because i also have doodles of him with bear ears])

Merrick, Merrick, Merrick..

honestly dont really know what to say about this man. i feel like he's extremely un-tech savvy unless its military technology. definitely does that dad squint with his eyes while reading something/trying to figure out how tf a phone works.

OHHH and on the topic of being horridly bad with tech and internet shi, if Logan and Hesh were to ever show Merrick tiktok for any reason, Merrick would probably find himself an addict of the app and incidentally pick up a shit ton of Gen Z humor but have zero idea what ANY of it means.

catch him throwing around old 2019 jokes or being one of those awkward father's who try to relate to the younger demographic by using outdated slang. thats IF he has the confidence to use any of the humor. if anything, i feel like he'd be awfully self conscious about doing so due to his lack of knowledge on it all.

no idea where im going with these headcannons. it is 12am and i am doing my workout routine as i wrote this while sleep deprived. dw im going strong.

but on the topic of HEADCANNONS,,,

Keegan, i feel like, leaned alot on Elias (probably without realizing it). i just see a kinship between Keegan, Elias and Merrick. Keegan seems to be by Merrick's side ALOT and i feel like HE feels he belongs there. not reliant just.. connected. soul brothers, really.

and if it wasnt Logan and Hesh who were fucked up over Elias' death, it was Keegan and Merrick. Merrick lost a bestfriend, Keegan lost a friend maybe even a father/uncle figure.

mostly Merrick gives me uncle vibes, though. Elias is a father figure, someone to lean on / someone to really show you how to do something and help you through hard times with insanely good advice. and Merrick's just the awkward, un-tech savvy uncle. i refuse to elaborate any further.

my personal headcannon for Logan is that hes semi-mute. i dont, personally, headcannon him as someone with full mutism but i do feel like he doesnt speak 90% of the time and shocks everyone whenever he does speak.

Keegan going about his day, saying a brief good morning to Logan and the Walker boy saying a quiet ''morning'' back to the man. has Keegan freeze on the spot, taking a full minute before looking up at Logan. takes a glance at Hesh and the brother merely shrugs, used to Logan's rare speaking.

out of everyone, Logan mostly speaks to Hesh. whenever Logan does speak, i feel like its aimed, USUALLY, at Hesh and nobody else in the room. keeps ot brief but sometimes has an actual back and forth while Merrick and Keegan are just reeling.

Merrick, wanting to help understand Logan better and show he cares more after Elias' death, put time aside to learn sign language for Logan's 'no talk days'. definitely mixes up a few signs and still has alot to learn but it surprises Logan and the man feels heard. definitely better than Logan having to rely on Hesh fully to communicate what Logan's trying to say / Logan having to fumble and point out different things and use unconventional means to try and get something across.

no hcs for Hesh rn..i THINK. actually i think i do have some but i cant remember and am tired. i spent likr an hour writing this yw im so eepy

gonna make a post strictly for Elias hc's because i have ALOT. (can you tell i have daddy issues)

A/N:: if anyone else has done these hcs tell me, im losing my mind over if ive actually seen anyone else have the same thoughts as me or not.

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

The sun was much hotter than usual in Arkhelios, forcing its residents or visitors into either air conditioning or a pool to cope. Fortunately for Theo, his grandmother owned a pool, even if it wasn't as big as the Rivales'. While his parents were at work and all their kids were home from school for the weekend, it had fallen to Elaine to watch the Bellamy children. Saturnia and Abe were both napping in the air conditioned guest room and the twins had gone to visit with their father and Evren, leaving Theo mostly left to his own devices. He'd asked Ironman if Adam could come over and the former servo had agreed. Grandma Elaine certainly wouldn't have allowed it, but Theo had asked an adult resident of the house and gotten permission. He wasn't a lawyer like his aunt, but he was pretty sure that this was a foolproof plan to get what he wanted.

After splashing around in the pool for a bit, the boys had pulled out a floating toy to lounge on in the sun. Theo could feel the warmth of Adam's skin pressed against him and the faint throbbing of his pulse in the hands that wrapped themselves around him. He was pretty sure that this was as close to heaven as it got, seeing that he felt so happy that he just might die of it. 

"The sun is nice," Adam murmured into Theo's shoulder. "I wish our school had a pool. We'd have a lot more opportunities to snuggle like this."

Theo wasn't sure if his face was hot because of the beating sun or from the sudden heat that engulfed him when he thought of making half naked aquatic snuggling a regular part of his day. 

Still, he was haunted by the knowledge he'd promised to tell his boyfriend. After their sleepover two days ago, they'd studied for an upcoming test, had a pop quiz in potion class and then they'd been freed from school. The weekend was now theirs to enjoy, with plenty of time to have serious conversations. Theo wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, and Adam hadn't pushed him on the matter. He looked a little more worried than usual, but ultimately, he trusted that Theo would bring up the mysterious topic on his own.

"We need to have that talk I mentioned the other day," Theo said quickly, before he lost his nerve. "About the guy I met."

Adam's face changed in an instant, suddenly fully alert.

"The hot guy you don't want to dump me for, but is still going to be scandalous to me? I'm all ears."

Adam stared at Theo expectantly while Theo adjusted himself on the float. For reasons he wasn't sure about, it was surprisingly difficult to just say the words he needed to say. Maybe it was his own experience with scandalous accusations in his family that held him back from just confessing what he'd been told. Adam didn't deserve to feel the same way Theo did about his own father.

"I went home after school with Oliver Goldman, remember? For the project we were assigned by the witches' council?"

"That moldy soup you handed my dad? I'm sure he only let you pass because we're dating and Oliver is the queen's little brother. That thing stank!"

"Hey, I'm good at blood magic, not stupid potions!" Theo protested. "Not to mention that Oliver did absolutely nothing to help me. The guy's a dick, no matter who his sister is."

"And?" Adam prodded, looking anxious that their complicated conversation had started with the queen's brother who could do no wrong with their teachers. 

"And I met his next door neighbour. His name was Ewan."

"Lots of people are named Ewan," Adam frowned. "Prince Ewan, Queen Claudia's grandfather, died young and tragically. It was out of respect for him that so many people in his family and around the world named their kids after him. I mean, my own dad is named after him; he was my dad's great-half-uncle or something."

"Yeah…but he told me that he wasn't named after some long dead prince. He's named after his father, Ewan G Maricourt."

There was complete silence for several minutes while Adam processed Theo's words.

"I don't have a brother," he said slowly, looking disturbed at the idea. "I would know if I had a brother. Why wouldn't my dad just tell me about him otherwise? I know he's had relationships since the divorce, but none that got serious enough to introduce us to. And he married both my mom and Miruna's mom when we were born, so why wouldn't he have married this kid's mother? Was this supposed brother a kid or was he older?"

"He looked our age, but he implied that he was older and more mature than me," Theo replied. "He was kind of a jerk too. He refused to get my name right."

"Do you think he was lying? I mean, we're not rich, but we're also not poor. Our family has connections, but there are so many other families that are better off. Do you think it could be a lie to kick my dad off of the council it to cause a scandal before Miruna's wedding? Theo, this could be a big deal, I need to talk to this guy before this story gets out of control."

Theo frowned. The thought that this mysterious guy could be a trap meant to hurt Adam's family hadn't occurred to him. He'd spent too long getting flustered by this Ewan's appearance and attitude to accurately advise his boyfriend.

"Well, he lives next door to Oliver's parents," he said. "His brother or something used to be friends with Queen Claudia growing up. He looked happy to see the queen again."

"Her Majesty was there when you met this guy? Theo, we need to get a handle on this before it gets out! The queen's old 'friend' and his little brother who claims to be my dad’s kid? This could ruin everything!"

Adam tried to control his breathing so that he didn't start hyperventilating, but it was hard to stay calm. Adam usually worried about even the smallest detail in his daily life, and this was just too much to handle.

“Okay, we need a plan. Who should we ask for help? Should we ask anyone or should we keep this quiet? No. No. If I tell someone, that means they’d know and might ruin things. This could be a trap to test how we’d react in a difficult situation. What if someone is planning a terrorist attack on the wedding and needs to see how Miruna’s family would react? No one’s solved the terror attack in Twikkii Island and that’s been years! What if this is being planned by the same people? The queen’s wedding might be their next target!”

“Or your dad’s just as bad at birth control as mine is,” Theo pointed out, trying to get his boyfriend to stop spiraling. “Trust me, I know from experience that these things probably aren’t terror attacks. Your dad is just a hoe. You get used to it after a while. My dads won’t stop cheating on each other; I probably have a million half-brothers. It’s not the end of the world. Your dad’s not married, so there’s not even an affair. Things are fine.”

“Or things could be wildly out of control. We need to know if this guy is dangerous.”

“Which means what? Asking your dad for a list of ex-girlfriends? Running a DNA sample with my creepy Aunt Oriana? What will help you feel safe? We’ll figure this out together, Adam. I promise.”

“Together!” Adam exclaimed quickly. “That’s it, Theo! We need to act together. If we can verify this guy’s story and he’s trouble, we can warn my dad and Miruna. I do need your help though. What’s the easiest way to accurately determine if two people are blood relatives that we have access to?”

“Uh, Aunt Oriana’s secret lab and all the machines I can’t touch in there?”

Adam shook his head.

“Too risky,” he replied. “She’d ask questions about running a paternity test and she’d need a sample of this guy’s DNA to work with. How would we possibly get one of those without raising suspicion?”

“In his garbage. Crime shows and Aunt Lucy say that that’s the best way to learn information about someone,” Theo stated proudly, confused by the disgusted look on his boyfriend’s face. “If they throw it away, it’s legal to rummage through.”

“What? No, gross. I’m not going diving in people’s garbage,” Adam stated. “Think about it though. A DNA test is beyond our skills, but what are you specifically in school studying?”

“Blood magic obviously.” He paused, trying to recall any important warnings his teachers had given him regarding his area of expertise. “Adam, I don’t think that- I mean-”

“Can you do it? Can you make a spell that will tell us if there’s a blood connection between two people? I think I’ve heard about one or two when the council still met at our house a few years ago. If you could cast a spell, you could tell me if he’s my brother easily. You could probably even submit it to school for extra credit.”

Theo paused, hesitating with his reply until he’d really had a chance to think this through.

“I think there’s a spell in my textbook,” he said slowly. “I’m really not supposed to practice this stuff unsupervised though. It can be dangerous and I might need another witch to help if I lose control of it.”

“Well, you have another witch,” Adam pointed out. He snapped his fingers and Theo’s backpack filled with textbooks left Theo’s messy room and landed by Adam’s feet. “This will be easy.”

Theo could feel his stomach churning from anxiety, but tried to keep smiling. His boyfriend needed this and it would be great practice. This was what Theo was studying for after all. It would be easy.

“Okay.”

“Okay, so we need a wand, some chalk, three drops of blood from the caster and salt,” Adam read.

He and Theo were curled around a hastily drawn magic circle, flipping through pages in the advanced blood magic assigned curriculum. After about twenty minutes, they’d found a spell that would work for what they needed it to do. It was a spell of revealing, of drawing together a bloodline. Theo was pretty sure that it was intended for some dark purpose, but he’d use the spell responsibly. They studied basic magical ethics in school; he’d be fine.

“Hmm, but in order to see your bloodline, you need to be the one casting the spell,” Theo pointed out. “I can’t cast the spell on you, you need to be the one shedding the blood and invoking it yourself.”

Adam’s face fell as he considered his options.

“I...I don’t think I’d be good at that,” he sighed. “Blood magic isn’t like formal magic and it’s hard enough for you to do. I’d probably end up wiping out my bloodline if I tried. Maybe there’s another spell that you can cast, like a curse that makes me see the truth or some kind of hex.”

“Not really, no. That’s not how blood magic works. It’s personal, that’s why I have to hide my true name, you know that. Blood, names, spells, it’s all intensely personal. All my teachers don’t even really encourage me to do some of these spells. Like a few for an exam, but overall, it’s something dark and horrible and not to be done. It’s why I’m pretty much the only kid in school learning it. My kind of magic is dangerous and bad.”

Adam’s face fell upon hearing those words and he immediately wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

“None of that is true,” he insisted. “You’re a great warlock and your type of magic is valid and worthy to study. You’re great at it and I won’t stop until the whole world is okay with you studying it. No one is going to look down on you, not when I’m around.”

Theo smiled gratefully at his boyfriend. Some days it really did feel like he was studying some forbidden, dark magic that people looked down on him for and it wasn’t easy, especially when his potion work was poor and his attempts at formal teleportation had nearly ended with him losing a limb.

“In fact, you do the spell,” Adam suggested. “We’ll use a loophole. If I join your bloodline to mine, you could see the connections in my family. You could get closer to this Ewan without suspicion even. You can connect people, the sovereign wanted you to join your parents together. It should be easy.”

Theo stared at Adam in shock, trying to process this strange request.

“You want to join our bloodlines? Like how joined? Demonic marriage like my parents wanted or combining them in a more conventional way....like with a kid? You do know that’s why my powers are so strong and uncontrollable, right? Because conflicting curses were sealed into one embryo and I was going to explode one day and take half of my bloodline with me? Getting a paternity test done by my aunt would be a lot easier than any of that.”

“No, not with marriage or a kid,” Adam quickly replied. “My uncle died because he was messing around with that idea. I could never do something like that, my mom would never speak to me again. Obviously we wouldn’t be doing that. Not ever. Especially not with a kid!”

Theo released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding at this assurance. He hadn’t thought that Adam was serious about any of that, but it was better to make sure. The Darktides did have a family history of pushing magical limits.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Adam sighed, pulling away from Theo shamefully. “I was just thinking about ways we could work together on this, while worrying about the chance that this whole half-brother thing could be some kind of trap. You’re just really strong and I thought that...well, it’s stupid. You’re right. Blood magic is really personal and permanent. I get it. We’ll do something else.”

A worried frown spread across Theo’s face as he watched Adam internally battle his own fears and reservations. Clearly, whatever he was thinking, he was extremely conflicted and stressed. Theo thought back to when he’d learned about Georgiana and could certainly commiserate. It wasn’t easy reevaluating who you thought your parents were and the many ways they could disappoint you.

“Well, look, it’s not all permanent with blood magic. There are different levels of blood joining. We could even try making a homunculus together in a bottle, that might be enough to work a temporary joining spell. There’s lots of different spells in my textbook. I was just surprised. It’s a good idea, but that’s kind of a lot to just throw at a person.”

Adam smiled, though it didn’t look sincere to Theo’s well trained eye.

“What’s the smallest level of joining we could do then? Something temporary. Something that won’t last for even the whole weekend. Then there’s no danger to either one of us. We just have to pay this Ewan a visit, see if he’s my brother and things will go back to normal right after.”

“A blood pact maybe?” Theo suggested. “We combine my magic and your bloodline to complete one mission: is Ewan your brother or is he not? Easy.”

“Easy,” Adam agreed. “I’ve always wanted to try blood magic, even if I’m not the one casting it. You and me, working together, doing magic. It’s romantic, don’t you think?”

Theo nodded confidently. This was romantic, as romantic as it could be anyway, investigating a potential half-sibling that was kept a secret. For a day at least, he and Adam would share their bloodlines and bind themselves together. What would it be like to feel his magic flow into Adam and have Adam’s ebb back in reply? They’d be stronger together, that was for certain. Maybe this could be a regular thing, especially a day before a magical exam. Surely it wasn’t cheating on a test if some of Adam’s formal magic guided Theo’s spellwork.

“We’re on a mission together, one that could save a royal wedding from disaster,” Theo teased playfully. He didn’t believe Adam’s paranoid worries, but it certainly sounded more adventurous to be saving a wedding from certain peril than investigating whether Adam’s father knew how to use birth control. “Okay, get the silver knife out of my backpack. It’s in with my pencils, I don’t use it very often.”

Adam did as he was instructed and held up the knife expectantly.

“Do I just stab it somewhere?”

“No, put your hand in the magic circle,” Theo commanded. “You need to use your true name for it to work. That’s your whole name and you have to say it in the proper way or the spell is weaker. Close your eyes and focus on your breathing. What’s your name and how does it sound when you think about yourself? Take a deep breath, prick your finger with the knife and say your name loud and clear.”

Theo held his breath again, waiting for his boyfriend to follow his commands. It was always risky doing blood magic with a partner in case they weren’t honest with their name or intentionally said it wrong or without the proper emphasis on the correct words. Most people were given their true names at birth and only chose how the sounds would be pronounced, while others rejected their given name and chose both the words and sounds that defined their magical essence. Honestly, he was dying with curiosity to hear Adam’s true name and had been since they were kids. It was something so private and sacred and he had chosen Theo to hear it over anyone else.

Adam took a deep breath and pierced his finger as commanded. He held his hand in the circle, watching as drops of blood fell, illuminating the circle’s magic.

“Adam Sebastian Casper Medora Darktide-Maricourt.”

Theo tried to hide his delight at this revelation that only he had heard, but was probably failing. He could spend an entire evening replaying this moment over and over in his head, committing each inflection to memory and truthfully, he probably would.

And he added Medora to his name, just like a true Maricourt would! That’s how he sees himself, and only I know it!

Still gleeful at this turn of events, Theo tried to focus on the task at hand. He reached for the knife and repeated Adam’s actions.

“Theodosius Ulysses Bellamy.”

A sudden spark of green flame flooded the circle, and disappeared as quickly as it came. Theo scanned the relevant page in his textbook and chanted the written latin, trying not to mess up any of the difficult words.

“Bind us together until we learn the truth about the blood connection between Adam Sebastian Casper Medora Darktide-Maricourt and Ewan, uh, Maricourt. Let me, Theodosius Ulysses Bellamy, be the vessel for this bloodline to gather and connect with each other. Let me see the truth that has been hidden. Bind us in this purpose.”

The rings of the circle hummed with life around the two teens, indicating that the spell had been successful.

“Did it work? Are we different now?”

Theo examined his hand carefully. The magical flames had seared his self-inflicted wound closed, but he still felt relatively normal.

“I’m not sure, I-” Theo stopped mid sentence when he saw the quiet flicker of magical energy flash the closer he was to Adam’s body. To test this discovery, Theo tried waving his hand in the opposite direction. When the light reappeared only when Adam’s hand was near his, Theo beamed.

“I’d say it worked! This is amazing! We did it!”

While Theo celebrated, Adam once more looked worried.

“Um, are you sure that was this Ewan’s name?” he asked quietly. “I mean, if no one’s aware of his existence, why would he have my dad’s last name? Does that matter?”

Theo paused to consider the question.

“Um, I don’t think so. I was picturing him when I said it and like I said, the true name of someone just makes the spell more powerful and accurate. I think we’re fine.”

“There are a lot of Ewans running around though. Are you sure?”

“Well, most of the ones that you know of are named after a family member,” Theo decided. “So they’ll be connected by blood anyway. If we find a blood connection to the Ewan we’re investigating, then he’ll be connected to the other Ewans too, which should end the spell. I think we’re fine.”

“Alright then. Let’s clean this mess up before your grandmother comes to check on us and has a heart attack. Then we have a possible brother to find.”

[aajjks]

🤭

NWO!JK

“not to steal crystals, silly. to keep the city safe. my apologies for offending you about” mj replies and after that the conversation is finished. but it doesn’t leave mj wondering one thing: why is it whenever anything negative is brought up about spider-man jungkook takes it personal? almost like they’re talking about him. could it be?

“Are you okay?”

“um, yes. i’m okay. just thinking about maybe our next outing. we should go bowling next” says mj before taking another bite of the stir-fry noodles. the rest of the night goes by smoothly as conversation seems to flow easily between both mj and jungkook, however, the finish line has been pushed back further than before.

“uh, no thanks. i don’t mind walking. um, i had fun as well. see you later, jungkook” mj says before heading in the opposite direction of jungkook who reaches for his helmet.

“it needs more….still not strong enough….”

🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️

it’s 11 at night and after a drink or two, you’ve finally loosened up and had some fun with your friend jisoo who insisted that everything would work out fine. you’re still a little tipsy but you can still make out your surroundings and with jisoo passed out on living room floor, you’re stuck walking all the way back home alone.

maybe you should call jungkook but then you’re reminded of his date with that girl mj and he probably doesn’t want to be bothered by something so minor. not too long ago you told jungkook you’d kick young-jae’s ass if he ever put his hands on him and that goes for any person that is smart enough to put their hands on you.

you wait awhile to sober up some more before leaving jisoo’s apartment but only after making sure she’s comfortable in bed and safe. your apartment complex is only a 10 maybe 15 minute walk away so it’ll be quick. hopefully…

“hey pretty lady” says a man against a concrete wall but you continue onwards not paying attention to his obvious advances. once the man sees that you’re ignoring him, he takes it upon himself to follow after you. you speed your pace up with hopes to get out of his reach but it’s too late. the man grabs hold of you and pulls you close.

“you don’t hear me talking to you? it’s always stuck up bitches like you that think their pussy’s too tight to acknowledge someone”

“GET OFF OF ME!! LET ME GO!!”

“you got in money on you, eh? or do you wanna offer me that pretty mouth of yours?”

you struggle against the man but when you see an opening, you take it. you take a huge chunk of his finger in your mouth and clench your mouth tightly which causes him to let you go but not without pissing you off.

“YOU BITCH!!!” he punches you in the face which sends you onto the floor. “oh you’re really gonna get it now!!”

~🫧

Jungkook is now riding on his bike as he thinks about his dinner with mj. Why did he fuck up an opportunity he probably would’ve died for some time ago?

He’s still focusing on the road, tightening his hands around the handles. It’s almost about to rain, “ugh fuck.” He exclaims while driving.

It’s so lonely as he drives back home, the streets are almost empty, maybe due to the weather, but.. he shouldn’t be too stressed out about this.

Just as he drives through the roads, Jungkook notices some commotion. “What the fuck is going on?” Some man beating up a woman- holy fuck.

He needs to help her.

Jungkook stops his bike to the side way and quickly puts the keys in his pockets before running into an alleyway with his bag.

Jungkook immediately puts on his Spider-Man disguise and doesn’t waste a single moment before running to the man attacking the woman.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” He gets near the man before kicking him harshly, the raindrops start to drop from the sky. And that’s when it gives him some time to look at the assaulted woman.

Y-Yn???

“OH ITS YOU!” The man exclaims as he tries to defend himself against the great vigilante.

Jungkook can’t believe it at all. It’s you. His best friend who was being harassed by this creep. “YOU FUCKER IM GOING TO KILL YOU!” Jungkook uses all of his strength to hurt the creep.

He kicks him, punches him, repeatedly. Doesn’t even remember to use his webs or any power to hurt the man.

It’s not Spider-Man fighting but it’s jungkook fighting for you.

It’s raining, completely soaking the roads as he beats the man to a pulp without even thinking of his reputation as a hero.

“YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.” Jungkook delivers one last kick to the man as he falls to the ground unconscious and bloody.

And it finally gives him some sense of satisfaction and he helps you. “A-Are you okay?” He looks at your face and his anger finally dissolves.

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter four

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn't know.

chapter zero, one, two, three

june 3, 2016

madrid, spain

calum

—

Before I know it, it’s 6 am and Orion and I are watching people sleepily head to the metro station near where we’ve been sitting for several hours. Our trash from our late night/early morning falafel run has remained unmoved next to us since we devoured our food. I didn’t even realize the sun was up until Orion started squinting at me because it was glaring directly into her eyes. We aren’t in it, but we’re sitting on a bench right outside the big park in Madrid called Retiro.

In the daylight, I can better see her eyes and their warmth. They’re brown, but they almost look like burnt orange. There’s something extra warm and light in them… almost like caramel. Maybe they look extra bright because of the light blue dress she has on, but still, I can’t stop staring at them.

Orion is one of the funniest people I’ve met on tour, and one of the kindest. She’s smart, but not in a way that makes it hard to talk to her because she speaks above me, just in a way that makes it even more intriguing to hear what she has to say, and truthfully, she has a lot to say. It’s sweet, and I like listening to her.

“I don’t know about you, Mr. Rockstar,” she starts, and I roll my eyes at her dig. “But, I’m pretty tired. Want to grab a coffee? I can help you figure out your way back to your hotel if you want to go sleep or hang out with your band or whatever it is you’d normally do at this time.”

I laugh, knowing the rest of the band is definitely sleeping soundly right now. Truthfully, I don’t really want to say goodbye. Touring the world, you learn how fleeting your time is with people who aren’t on the move with you. It makes it harder to say goodbye and the time with the people you care about feels even more special. I only met her less than 12 hours ago, but Orion is someone I want to spend my time with.

“I’d love to grab a coffee.”

She smiles—a tired, but still energetic smile. “Sweet. Hmm… I think there’s a place just a few blocks this way.” She points to our right and pulls out her phone. I don’t know how hers isn’t dead—mine died hours ago.

I stand up and dust off my pants, and then I look down and notice the stain on my shirt for the first time in daylight. It’s a faint purple splash. I don’t know if I’ll ever wear this shirt again and not think of her. It already makes me smile, thinking of our encounter at the club and her frustrated, but adorable, expression when I startled her.

I hold my hands out to her to help her up and she reluctantly takes them, scoffing a little. “Let’s go grab a… cafecito? Is that right?”

A surprised look takes over her face. “Are you sure you don’t speak Spanish? You know a total of like… five words now!”

“Alright, take the sass back down to a level two.”

With the help of her GPS, we arrive to the small cafe after a few minutes of walking. It’s nice to see Madrid in the daytime. We’ve stopped here before on tour, but haven’t ever really explored much. Honestly, if I wasn’t with Orion right now, I probably wouldn’t be exploring now either. It’s a pretty city, from what we’ve seen, and oddly clean. Compared to Paris, or New York, or LA, it’s a world of difference in the amount of litter.

There are families and young people and elderly people out and about, even though it’s early in the morning. There’s traffic but it’s not noisy. I also love how at home Orion seems here, even though she’s only been here for a week. It feels like she just meshes with the city and she’s content—I wonder what she looks like in other cities. I can’t imagine her being any more beautiful than she is right now at 6 am, bloodshot eyes, faded makeup, her hair falling out of its ponytail, and still so sweet and happy.

At the cafe, she doesn’t even ask me what I want, but I don’t mind. I hand over a handful of coins for the coffees she ordered us, and grateful for the hot cup when she gives me mine.

“What do you have going on today?” I ask, silently hoping she’s free to spend the day with me.

“I don’t think we have any plans. I’m sure my friends are hungover and sleeping…” She trails off and grabs my hand, pulling me out of the tiny cafe and back to the sidewalk. “Do you need to be anywhere?”

I shake my head. “I’ve got to be at the hotel by 3 to ride with the band to the venue for soundcheck, but I’m all yours the rest of the day if you’ll have me.”

Orion nods. “I guess we can hang out.” She feigns acting annoyed with my presence.

I fake hurt and shove her arm playfully before I wrap an arm around her shoulders, starting to walk while she starts rattling off ideas of what we can do.

—

By 2:30, she’s taken me to her favorite breakfast cafe, forced me to try vegan donuts, helped paddle in a boat at Retiro, and pulled me into a few small art museums to marvel at the pieces and translate some of the labels so I know what I’m looking at. She wanted to take me to the three story Primark on Gran Via but she said it would take up too much of our time and there’s too much else to see.

“Do you want to come to the show tonight?” I finally ask her. I’d been debating asking her all day—not debating whether or not I wanted to ask, simply unsure of when or how was the right way.

She looks surprised. Have I not been blatantly obvious? I really like this girl, of course I want her to come to the show.

“Do you want me to come?”

I grab her shoulders and turn her to face me so she has no choice but to look me in the eyes. “I would love for you to come, but I don’t want to make you come if you don’t want to.”

Orion smiles somewhat sheepishly. “I’d love to come. Do you know what the venue is? And what time?”

“Shit, no, I don’t, and my phone is dead.” I try to remember the name of the venue but can’t. “Here, I’ll text myself on WhatsApp and when I get back to the hotel I’ll text you everything you need to know.”

I hold my hand out for her phone and she hands it to me, unlocked, so I can message myself. I type in a quick message — “hola señora” — and then hand her phone back to her.

“Oh, and you can bring your friends, if you want.”

Her face lights up. “Oh my god, I think they’d lose their minds. They’ve been texting me nonstop since they woke up.”

I laugh. “Bring them, they can meet the band if they want.”

Orion nods, shoving her phone back into her bag. “Okay, I’m sure they’ll be up for that. You should probably get going.”

I nod, going to pull my phone out to figure out how to get to the hotel, but am reminded again that it’s dead.

Orion giggles. “Do you need help getting there?”

“Maybe.”

“What’s the hotel?”

“Hotel Madrid…. Gran-something?”

She gives me a look like ‘you should get your life together’ but she types it in her GPS. “Oh, duh, silly. Hotel Madrid Gran Via. It’s a few blocks this way. We’re already on Gran Via.”

I feel stupid but I don’t care. I’m just excited that she’s coming to our show tonight. I can’t wait to introduce her to the guys — they’ll love her.

“Walk me there?” I ask, hopefully. I want to spend as much time with her as I can. I don’t want this to be the last time I see her, but I’m not sure how often I’ll get to see her if she even wants to see me again.

Orion grins and locks her hand in mine again. Gran Via is busy and hot, and it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. It’s nice to be tethered to someone in places like this. “Let’s go.”

We meander through the crowd—I’ve got sunglasses on to try to lay low, thankfully I’ve only been recognized a few times today and Orion has been really cool about it. After a few blocks, the somewhat familiar hotel comes into view, and I notice a small crowd outside of the regular entrance. Thank god we asked security to show us the back entrance before we went out last night.

I feel Orion tense up at the sight of the swarm of fans and I squeeze her hand. “It’s okay, there’s a back entrance.”

Her shoulders drop as she relaxes. “Oh, good, I didn’t think it’d be good for you to be seen with me.”

I’m not sure what she means by that. I’d have no issues with being seen with her—she’s not a controversial figure, and I can confidently say she’s not going to go spreading gossip online, and, fuck, do I like her. I don’t say anything though, as now we’re less than two blocks away and they could see me at any moment. I turn us down a side street and then into the alley that leads to the secure back entrance to the hotel. I see Matt, our tour manager, and Gus, one of our main security guys, talking outside of the entrance.

They’re so caught up in their conversation they don’t see us until we’re just a few yards away. When Matt looks up, he does a double take.

“Calum!” He grunts. Shit. He’s mad. “Where the fuck have you been? You haven’t been answering anyone’s calls or texts. You know we’re leaving for soundcheck in,” he checks his watch, “seven minutes!”

I turn red, embarrassed that Orion is here for this. “My phone’s been dead, we were just exploring the city.”

Matt fumes. “You know you’re not supposed to go out during the day without security.”

Shit. I’d forgotten about that rule. Truthfully, I don’t normally go out during the day, and it’s a new rule we just implemented after a few shows in Asia when Ash got ambushed while he was out grabbing food.

“It’s my fault,” Orion says.

I turn to her, surprised. How’s she going to dig me out of this hole?

“I just really wanted to show him Madrid and we didn’t have time to charge our phones so we couldn’t stop and call to get security with us. We stayed away from touristy spots mostly and I felt weird about the idea of having security following me around. I knew we had to be back here by 3 and I hoped it wouldn’t be a big problem as long as we came back in time and laid low. I’m so sorry, if I’d known it was that important we would’ve come back earlier to let you know everything was fine.” Her story is somehow believable, but Matt’s still mad.

“Who is this?” Matt snaps, his eyes angry and boring into me.

“This is… Orion. We met last night and hit it off, so we spent the day together.”

Matt still looks angry as his eyes flit back and forth between the two of us. “You’re lucky you’re back in time.” He then turns away from us to wave down the black van that just entered the alley, presumably our ride to the venue.

I let out a sigh of relief and turn to O. I can’t help but smile when we lock eyes, and then we both stifle a few giggles. What are we, schoolgirls who just got caught? “I had the best time with you today.”

Orion blushes and looks down, breaking our eye contact. “Yeah, it was really fun.”

I nod. Goodbye. I’m supposed to say goodbye. I don’t want to. I wish she could just come with us to soundcheck and then join us on tour, honestly. That’s incredibly irrational and she has a life. But that’s what I wish.

“Can I kiss you?” she whispers, looking incredibly nervous.

I place a hand on her cheek and pull her close, having to bend down to get us on the same level. I don’t even think about my probably horrible breath due to not brushing my teeth all day, I just focus on her and her soft lips on mine. It’s a short kiss, but definitely my favorite first kiss I’ve ever had.

“Kiss me whenever you’d like,” I quietly say back, making her laugh. “I’ll see you tonight?”

Orion nods. “Yep, don’t forget to text me!”

“I promise, I won’t forget.”

She gives me a hug goodbye and I kiss the top of her head before she’s pulling away, stepping back and giving me a small wave before she starts walking out of the alley.

“Hey Matt, got a phone charger?” I call, making the already angry man scowl and dig through the backpack he has leaning against the building. He tosses it to me and then opens the door to the van.

“Get in, Hood.”

read next chapter

—

a/n: i promise the plot is picking up soooon i promise i promise. i’m trying to make this new version more in depth than the one i had on wattpad which means more fleshed out pieces of the story. i know we haven’t gotten to the juicy parts id love to hear what people are thinking of this 🥹 ty for reading!!! 🫶🏻

[strykingback]

Location: Balders Island, Off Of the Atlesian Archipelago Time: 7:00 PM Atlesian time Zone. OST: Enemy Base (Warning For Autoplay!)

_____________________________

A timid man was currently approaching the doors of the CEO's office as he gulped a bit holding some files and papers in place from everyone. Feeling his own heart racing as the doors opened.

"Come in." A young but deep and burly voice said with the man walking in timidly as the doors closed behind him. As he tried to keep his composure as he was not expecting himself to be the one delivering the news the CEO of the Solitas Liberation LLC. Yet, he took a deep breath in and exhaled carefully.

"S-Sir. As you may know I have brought the reports you have asked for from the counterhacking team who sadly failed to contain the hacker that managed to steal some important data, plus some of the bills from the ships we have smuggled from the Atlesian Military and modified to our own benefit." He said holding up two of the papers.

"And?" the CEO continued.

"O-O-Oh yes! There is also the fact that after much toiling from the S-S-Science Department that we have finally found a 99.8% chance of bringing back the dead with no other defects shown with Project Immortalis after a two week levy. As for creating immortal soldiers.... its still a fifty percent chance, S-Sir." The Timid man said while a huff was seen with a strong hand putting his cigar on his ashtray for a minute.

"Ahh..... I remember it like it was yesterday... back fifteen years ago. I was merely but an old man at that point. Seeking out his own reasons to start a war.... and yet I wanted to dance upon a pyre of those Brumelian whelps..... witholding all that dust to themselves and much more....." the CEO said leaning back against his chair the back still being faced towards the Timid employee.

"S-Sir?"

"Ahaha.... Then when I simply requested Dr. Democritus a new way of energy little did he know I had him create a weapon.... a weapon that would revolutionize war. Shame the weak crybaby had to off himself... I could have used him for this..... and Jacques Schnee my young protege... he is still as weak as ever from what I heard. Yet, when I came up with Project Immortalis it was originally born out of my own greed..... to create immortal soldiers to slow down the Brumelian march on Atlas.... fuck those Mantlean weaklings." He said picking up his cigar.

"Now when I "died"... heh. Lets just say I still had plenty of supporters who were willing to pick up the slack.. you included. Soon we gained more benefactors and sponsors as we grew. While I was in "incubation." Heh. Its funny ain't it, but then though that damn traitor who used a blizzard against us and used it well against us.... did you find out his name?" The CEO continued.

"U-Uh! Yes sir... his name is Zek Sunna Simo...." The Employee said with the CEO chuckling. "And who is up next for testing of Project Immortalis....." he asked.

"A Mrs. Atya Sunna......Zeks mother... sir."

"Heheheh. She's his mother? Well if she dies we can send her body to him as a way of saying how hard he fucked up.....because now. We're just going to make sure she suffers...." The CEO said.

"Y-Yes Sir.... but aside from this dont you think it is possible that it is p-p-possible that the Atelier Paladins will a-a-attack..?" the Timid employee asked.

"Please no need to call me Sir." The CEO said turning around to be a strong looking man with a smirk on his face as he took a huff of his cigarette.

"Just Nero will do, son."

CLONE OF THE DISGRACED GRAND COUNCIL MAN OF ATLAS, CEO OF THE SOLITAS LIBERATION LLC, NERO BASILLICUS.

"And if those pieces of shit want me... they'll have to get through a lot to get to me...."

EVENT DATE WILL BE REVEALED SHORTLY!