#He knew she would threaten to attack his precious family jewels

[theonewithval]

Does agent David carry a weapon?

She is a weapon

[mythiccheroacademia]

My Vow to You

A/N: Dragon King!Bakugo has my heart and so I wrote a little something based off a dream I had awhile ago. I like writing Bakugo with a spouse that’s just as much of a hardass as he is :’) I’m not sure if I’ll make a part two. This could stand alone butttt we’ll see. 

Important things to note: ~*Aurea: It means golden in Latin. This is your family name that is used in public. Even though you’re married to Bakugo, I made it tradition that you keep your last name for distincition purposes, but you’re a Bakugo when I addressed elswhere. That’s based off something from my own culture. Also, it’d be kind of weird if Bakugo said his own name lmao. You’ll get it as you read.  ~*You and Bakugo have dragon-like traits? Idk man. I just thought the red eyes and fangs added flare.

Word Count: 1.6k Pairing: Bakugo x Fem!Reader Warnings: blood, injury, death, there’s a severed head in there but the description isn’t gory, cursing

All Characters are 18+

My Vow to You:

You remembered the day you were wedded to your husband. It was one of the most treasured days between both the Crimson and Golden Tribes. A day so powerful and glorious in meaning that it was named the Holy Matrimony of the era.

That day, two of the most powerful tribes in the nation joined in hand to rule. Their people prospered, their land grew rich, their army went by the hundreds, and best of all, this would happen out of true love.

There was no contract—no arrangement. The only reason the two tribes had encountered was to trade. When you and Katsuki had first met during the primary meeting, the next day, he brought you his most precious stone to begin courting. From then on, it was like destiny took ahold of the reigns. At the wedding, you wore it proudly upon the crest of your head.

The dress, the decorations, and the gifts were all beautiful, but nothing could compare to the sight of your groom. When the warriors parted, revealing his path to the alter, you almost forgot how to walk.

Matching ceremonial tattoos were painted across his bare arms and chest. He stood tall under the weight of precious stones of ruby and gold and led the length of his white fur coat across the floor. And despite his heavenly appearance, his crimson eyes, full of love, regard, and dignity were what led your feet to stand before him.

Katsuki was as gorgeous as he was powerful. There was a moment of reverie between the two of you before you both kneeled, bowing your heads when the past Kings and Queens walked to the alter.

You remembered when you shared your vows, words of strength to affirm the sacred bond the two of you would never break. When you both spoke, each word was a threaded swear into the other’s heart. From that moment, you were not two, but one. You were no longer just a couple, but a union. Once the religious leaders had said their prayer, you two shared a kiss, anointing the other with the love you were ready to boundlessly give.  

That promise was seared into your heart. You would act on it every second you were married.

So, even as your guards worriedly rushed you into the infirmary, blood dripping from the open wounds on your body, you wickedly grinned in triumph. No one would be able to take this away from you.

Not that foreign king. Not his weak ass army. Not your worried parents.

And certainly not your raging husband.

“What the hell were you thinking? Damn it, Aurea*! You could’ve been killed!” he roared.

Honestly, he looked worse for wear. If it wasn’t the dark circles underneath his eyes, it was the obvious stiffness in his neck. Apparently, he had been at your bedside every minute during your three-day coma. He was worried to say the least. Bless his heart.

You tried to lighten the mood with a smile. “Aww, you do care. How kind of you, my beau~”

Evidently, the joke wasn’t appreciated. Katsuki’s face soured into an expression only a mother could love. His eye twitched and the guards winced.

“You want me to put you back in your shitty coma?”

“Bakugo, I’m fine,” you sighed, relenting to the seriousness of the situation. “I know you’re worried, but I made it out. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“That’s beside the point!” he snapped. Perhaps you wouldn’t have felt so attacked if it weren’t for the harsh glare he gave you. “I told you the Black Fleet was dangerous and yet you still acted foolishly! If Kirishima hadn’t found you—“

“I endangered no one—“

“No one but yourself, and that’s what you fail to understand!”

Despite your conscious telling you to calm down, his scolding got the better of you. And your temper rose like an ugly beast. “And if it were for the safety of you and any one of our people, I’d do it again; because when they threatened to put your head on a platter, it was personal! I won’t be scolded like a child for doing my duties as Queen!”

In better circumstances, Bakugo would’ve treaded lightly. He would’ve empathized with your sentiment. However, he had done nothing but stare at your bloody bandages and bruises for the past three days and his patience with just about everything ran thin.

“And I’m doing mine as King! If I tell you to stay away, what I fucking say goes!”

“I don’t know what kind of women you dealt with before me, but if you think that you can just order me around like some bitch, you’ve chosen the wrong woman to marry,” you seethed.

Bakugo’s furious scream thundered the hall and the guards jumped as his fist hit the wall. “ARGH! FUCK Y/N! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME!?”

The use of your personal name in the presence of guards made you reel. Now he was just being disrespectful.

“YOU ARE NOT MY MASTER!” you shouted.

His eyes glowed with rage as he grew in size, a feat that would’ve sent anyone running. “NO, BUT I AM YOUR HUSBAND!” he boomed.

Your eyes turned to blood and fangs shot out from your lips as you roared, “AND I AM YOUR WIFE!”

Katsuki tried to subdue you with an intimidating growl, abnormally large canines bared towards you. However, you only matched it with your own. There was an intense moment between you two as your energies nearly bubbled over. However, one of the nurses at your bedside reminded you of your injuries.

“Please, my queen. If you’re not careful, you could reopen your wounds,” they softly spoke.

The gentle hand on your abdomen reminded you of the ache. You winced and sighed away the sizzling anger as you were led back into the comfort of the cot. The weight of your husband’s glare fell upon you for a moment more before he frustratingly blew out of his nose and turned on his heel, out the door.

Once the door slammed shut, you rolled your eyes. If he wanted to throw a tantrum, then so be it.

“Ungrateful brat,” you muttered. Just then, a sharp pain shot up your leg from one of the nurses changing your bandages. “Ow!”

They shrunk back and gave you a shy smile. “My apologies, your highness,” they giggled.

Despite your sour attitude, you just huffed a laugh from your nostrils. “Careful there,” you sighed. They ducked their head again in slight embarrassment and went back to tending to your wound with a softer hand.

The silence gently settled in the air as the atmosphere returned to its once lax state. When the nurses had finished patching you up and left you and the guards stationed in your room, you found yourself finally able to process the harsh exchange of words between you and your husband.

You couldn’t believe he would just order you around like that! Talking to you as if he didn’t know the type of woman he had been married to for the last five years. And to use your first name in the presence of non-family members? Mitsuki would have his head if she knew!

Regardless of that, you thought back to when you two truly lost your cool and frowned. You hated acting out of character, especially in front of a crowd, but you couldn’t help it. His words were an insult to your pride and abilities.

He was being ridiculous. You were the Dragon King and Queen, damn it. The fiercest rulers the earth would know, governing over two tribes with armies that sent shivers down their enemy’s spines at the mention of your name. And just as their people stood strong, their leaders were stronger, and that meant protecting their honors to no bounds.  

When the enemy sent your kingdom a severed head of a deceased warrior as a threat to have Bakugo’s next, there was nothing left to be said. You saw your chance to humble your foe and took it. And you succeeded. That should’ve garnered celebration, not a dispute.

You carefully turned on your side and noted your crown with the lone jewel he gifted you before you courted. Memories of your spoken vows ran across your mind and reinforced the stubbornness in your heart. You remembered the way his eyes, brighter than any precious stone, glowed with pride and love as he swore his life over to protect you by any means necessary.

You could still feel the warm squeeze he gave your hands when you repeated those same words back to him.

So if it was an apology he wanted, then tough luck. You wouldn’t apologize for defending his honor.

Not when you knew he’d do the same for you.

[luescris]

Yakko's Journey

SO THANKS TO @suavebiscuitsaregood I FIGURED OUT HOW TO DO THE READ MORE THING ON MOBILE. ENJOY EVERYONE! :D

Tw: Mentioned death, minor injuries

The story begins a year after Wakko’s Wish.

The Warners have just begun to settle themselves in as the rulers of their village, and ever since they had taken the throne peace and prosperity prospered all throughout the land. Yakko was the king, and was the one that people went to the most since he was the oldest. Wakko and Dot were the prince and princess, sitting at Yakko’s side in the throne room. Their home had gradually became a lush, wonderful place thanks to these three (Even though half of their citizens were surprised at how well they were doing considering they were just kids, and chaotic ones at that). But even so, there were still many hardships not even Wakko and Dot knew about.

Being the main ruler, Yakko had done the hardest of the work, and by his choice. He let Dot and Wakko be kids since half their lives they had to suffer. He filled out paperwork, did the task of putting people in their place, attended to their citizens' needs. The “king” before them was still at large as well, and he had been sending out people to look for him ever since they took charge. No one found him yet, but he was determined to bring the man to justice. But it was a tiring task, and it was beginning to weigh him down; though he never let his siblings see. Yakko would often wander through the halls of the castle until he found the portrait of his parents, and would stare up at it solemnly until he was needed. He barely remembered his parents, but knew that they made him feel safe, happy and warm. He wondered often if they would be proud, but he also couldn’t help but wonder why they left without them. Yakko knew they were exiled, but he and his siblings could have been with them instead of being left to fend for themselves. How did no one else know their heritage? Why were they just left here? 

It was about midnight when he had yet again found himself looking up at his parents, running these questions through his head when a soldier bursted through the hallway, looking as if he had seen a ghost. Yakko was immediately alert, and asked the man what was wrong. It took him a second to catch his breath, but when he met the young king’s eyes, his own was full of fear.

“Your Majesty,” The guard gasped. “The prince and princess.. They’re gone..”

Fear immediately gripped Yakko's heart, and the two ran through the halls until they reached his siblings room. It was a mess. Books and papers were scattered all over the floor, the window shattered. Dot’s and Wakko’s beds were unmade; signs of a struggle were everywhere. A few soldiers had already reached the room, looking around and moving things aside for clues. The oldest Warner went up to the beds slowly, despair creeping up on him as he gently touched the sheets.

His siblings.. Were gone.

He was about ready to fall to his knees before a guard called for his attention, and was given a note with a dagger stuck to the top. It did not have a name, but it did threaten the very lives of his beloved brother and sister if he did not surrender the crown within twenty days. There was no address, no name, nothing. Yakko crumpled the paper in his hand, holding the dagger tightly as anger burned in his eyes. He declared he was going to go out there to find them, but his advisor--who had shown up a few seconds after he had--immediately denied him. He told him that he must stay in the castle for his own safety, that someone had to stay behind and run the village. If he left, no one else would be able to fill in for him. Yakko wanted to argue back, wanted to say that Dot and Wakko were a heck of a lot more valuable than some stupid crown, but was eventually convinced to stay. He was then led to his room for the night so he could try to get some sleep, and the situation would be handled in the morning. But he couldn’t sleep. The rest of the night he stayed awake, hoping that his siblings were okay. The castle felt much more lonely and cold in the morning, and he skipped breakfast much to his advisor's distaste. 

Yakko called for a meeting in town square with the subjects, and brought a chest full of precious jewels and coins along--yet again to his advisor’s disagreement. He told the village what had happened last night, much to their shock. He then showed them the chest, opening it and telling them that if anyone is willing to find his siblings and bring them back home safe and sound, he would reward them with the treasure inside the chest. And off went the entire village, save for a few mothers and children, while Yakko stayed behind. A week passed afterwards, one that was long and lonely for the oldest Warner. He was told to be patient, was reassured by many that they were okay, but his worry did not grow any less. Eventually, he finally decided it was time to take action and go find them himself.

He snuck himself out in the middle of the night, securing the dagger from the note to his waist, along with a few other belongings. He snuck into the stables and took a horse, and rode out into the night, leaving behind his crown and a letter to anyone who found it. 

Yakko had nothing but a compass and his gut to lead him through his journey. He overcame many obstacles--one of them having lost his horse--traveling through dense forests and abandoned villages. He was also occasionally attacked by strange men, and after having defeated a few took one of them hostage. He asked the man questions about where his siblings were taken, knowing these men and their captor were connected, and for a while the archer didn’t speak. When Yakko threatened him, however, the man simply laughed, thoroughly confusing the kid.

“I know you can’t do it,” The man chuckled darkly, raising his head and meeting Yakko’s eyes with an evil grin. “You’re too soft. You couldn’t even hurt a fly even if you tried.”

Yakko had scowled, trying to hide his confusion, and held the dagger just an inch closer to the man’s throat. But his hand was shaking; the archer was right. “Wanna bet?”

The man simply laughed again, and told Yakko something sinister. Something awful. There was a mad look in his eyes as he told him that the person who took his siblings had taken the lives of his parents. That his master would also take his siblings lives if he didn’t do as he was told. 

“You only have a week left before it’s too late,” He had sneered.

“But… But I thought I was given twenty days??” Yakko whispered. He was shaken to his core, eyes wide and full of fear and denial.

“Oh, were you?” The man tilted his head. “Well then, I guess you were lied to.”

Again, he laughed as Yakko tripped over his own feet, scurrying away with fear as he picked up the dagger that he had dropped as the archer talked. The laughter followed him all the way through the night as he left behind the glow of the fire.

It had been days since he had a proper night’s sleep. He hadn’t stopped running through the forest all night long, not until his lungs burned from gasping for air, until all his fear had burnt out. He clung onto the hope that the archer was lying, that his siblings were okay still. He trudged through another seemingly empty village, holding back tears while trying to stay awake. But he tripped over something, and didn’t get back up, finally going unconscious. When he had woken, he found that he was not on the ground, but in a bed, and upon realizing he had fallen asleep sat up frantically and looked around. A hand was placed on his shoulder and a woman gently calmed him down. He asked her who she was and where she had taken him. She told him that he was still in the village and she had found him asleep in the middle of the road. 

“As for who I am,” She smiled, showing an array of discolored teeth. “I am Saeela, and I am a witch.”

She told him that he had been asleep for a good portion of the afternoon, and when he panicked and told her he needed to go, she interrupted and said, “I know. You need to find your family.” 

Yakko simply blinked at her. She chuckled and told him that she cast a spell on him to see if he was a friend or foe and knew all about his story. 

“You can cast spells?” Yakko asked after a moment.

Saeela scoffed playfully and waved a hand at him. “Well of course, son. I’m a witch. I can do many things.”

“.. Then, can you help me?” The Warner looked down and rubbed his arm. “I know you’ve done a lot already and I appreciate it, but I’m afraid I don’t have much time left and I don’t know where I’m going. Or what I’m doing.” 

The witch thinks about this for a moment, then tells him she’ll help, but for a price. He asks her what that price is and she tells him she’ll tell him when she figures it out. She then stands and tells him to follow her, and the two walk into a room with a crystal ball sitting on a table. A tray of food sits on the other side and she tells him to eat, since he hasn’t had a good meal in a while. Yakko does so gratefully, regretting skipping all those meals the minute he digs in, and Saeela uses the ball to see where his siblings have been taken. They find out that they were being held captive in a cave a few miles from the village, and they also find out that they were taken by Salazar. This makes the Warner angry, having been looking for the man for a whole year, and Saeela urges him to eat quickly before time runs out for his siblings.

Yakko asks what she means by that and she only shakes her head, ushering him out of the room. Saeela gives him her own horse and a bag that she tells him not to use until he knows when to, and before he can ask any more questions she sends him off, watching his figure disappear in the distance.

“Good luck, young King,” She murmurs, and heads back into the cottage.

For the rest of his journey, Yakko bends over the horse, urging the animal to go faster with a flick of the reins. When he arrives at the mouth of the cave, he slips off the horse slowly, taking out his dagger and entering. It wasn’t long before he was greeted with at least ten different archers and swordsmen, all pointing their weapons at the Warner. Yakko scowled, but perked up when he heard the sound of someone clapping slowly. From his left came Salazar, former ruler of Warnerstock, wearing a large, triumphant smirk across his face.

“Ahh, young Yakko Warner,” He sneered. “About time you showed your face. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Yakko’s scowl deepened. “Salazar. Where are my siblings?! You better not have hurt them or I swear I’ll-!”

“You’ll what, your majesty? Take me to prison?? Kill me? Last time you had the chance to kill someone you didn’t take it, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was the same.” Salazar’s grin never faded as he spread his arms. “Besides, you’re the one that’s surrounded! It wasn’t very smart to come by yourself, young Warner.” Finally he too scowled, dropping his arms. “Now, where is my crown?”

Yakko looked around him at the weapons and men surrounding him, and once again knew that the enemy was right. He couldn’t take them all out at once, even if he wanted to. He couldn’t even come up with his usual witty banter; emotions were the only thing that had kept him going this entire time. He had no room for fun and games when his siblings were in danger.

“.. Show me my sibs first.” He finally grumbled.

Salazar snapped his fingers, and some more men came out with two small figures Yakko immediately recognized: Wakko and Dot. They looked a little dirty and tired, but they seemed fine either way. They looked up and their eyes widened when they saw their brother.

“Yakko!!” They cried.

The oldest took a step forward and reached out a hand, but the men around him drew their weapons closer to him. “Sibs!” He cried in return, unable to do much else.

But then something unexpected happened. More men came out, dragging along two other figures that stood beside Wakko and Dot. At first Yakko couldn’t recognize them, but then they rose their heads to meet his eyes, and they widened in realization.

… Mom? D-dad?? Yakko thought in disbelief.

“Now, the crown.” Salazar growled, forcing Yakko’s attention to him. “Give it to me, and I’ll let them all go free. So long as you never step foot onto Warnerstock.”

Yakko looked back at his long lost parents, who stared at him solemnly. He wanted to cry, jump into their arms, and yell at them all at the same time. He thought that they were gone. But they were right there and..!

“Don’t listen to him son.” His father suddenly spoke. “It’s a trap, he won’t let any of us go. He’s going to make our village suffer again, you can’t let that happen!”

He stared at them for a moment, lost in both thought and words for the first time. 

“Well boy?! We don’t have all day! Give it to me, now!” Salazar commanded.

“... I..” Yakko gulped, and finally turned to the evil man. “I don’t have it..”

That’s when things take a turn for the worst. Salazar’s face falls, then it scrunches in rage, and he commands his men to take Yakko captive as well. But before he was grabbed, a rock was thrown over the Warner’s head, and he turned to see the village people and the castle guards--along with their advisor--standing at the mouth of the cave. The former king, bewildered, demands how they managed to find him here and Rita immediately responds cockily, “It’s a cartoon, man. Wild things happen.”

Then they charge forward, and a fight between Salazar’s men and the citizens of Warnerstock breaks out. This gives Yakko time to make his way towards his family, but is stopped when a sword is shoved inches away from his nose. Yakko looks up to see that the sword belongs to Salazar, who has a mad glint in his eyes, and he unsheathes his own dagger. The two spar as the battle happens around them, and it lasts for a good while. Somehow Yakko’s tiny dagger manages to block and parry it’s opponent well, and fueled by his newly found courage Yakko is able to send some quips that really boils the former king’s blood. This gives the oldest Warner an advantage, and he finally wins, sending Salazar down to the ground. He lets his smirk finally drop, pointing the dagger at the man’s nose.

“You’re beat. Stay.” He growls, backing up towards where his family was currently cheering him on.

When he turns his back, however, Salazar growls and rises back up onto his feet, raising his sword in the air. Yakko’s father shouts for him to watch out, running forward as his son turns around in slow motion, eyes widening with fear. But the sword doesn’t strike Yakko. Instead, it strikes his father, who held his son close. Dot, Wakko, and their mother cry out as his father falls to his knees, Yakko frozen in place. As his father’s form slips from his vision, in place of it was Salazar, who had a wicked grin on his face.

And Yakko saw red.

He didn’t know what sword he had taken from the ground, and didn’t care. He cried out with rage, and again the two fought. Each strike of his sword brought Salazar back further and further, and slowly the former king’s face fell as they backed into the cave, where a gaping, seemingly bottomless hole awaited. There was no way for him to win, and he knew this. One last strike from Yakko, and his foot slipped, sending him down with a cry. His hand caught the edge as his weapon fell down the hole, and he looked up to see Yakko, rage twisting his face as angry tears built at the corner of his eyes. His sword pointed down at the king, who pleaded for mercy as he tried to regain his grip, begging to be saved. But Yakko did not hear him, raising his own sword and readying to give the final blow. But his mother cried his name, and her voice ripped through the red.

He looked back to see her cradling his father’s head in her lap, Wakko and Dot beside her and watching with wide, fearful eyes.

“Son, please,” She murmured softly. “Don’t. He may be an awful man, but you are not a killer.”

Yakko breathed heavily, lowering the weapon just a bit as she continued. “He will get what is due. But his fate is not yours to decide.”

Finally, he looked down at Salazar, and upon seeing the look he gave, he dropped the sword. Yakko kneeled and reached out his hand to the king, and for a moment it seemed as if he could reach it. But at the last moment his hand slipped, and Salazar fell into the depths of the gaping hole below with a cry. Yakko cried out as well, hand reaching out even if he could do nothing else, and shut his eyes as Salazar disappeared in it’s shadows. He stayed kneeled there for a moment, but then a pained cough brought him out of his sorrow, and he looked back to see his father once again.

He rose and quickly made his way to where his family was as the others gathered around them, kneeling beside his father. They exchanged a few words, Wakko gripping on his mother’s arm and Dot wiping at her eyes to stop the tears. Then Yakko remembered the bag that Saeela had given him before he had left, and rushed to his horse to get it, knowing what it was for now. When he returned he handed his mother the potion, telling her it may be able to save his life. She doesn’t ask any questions, but does as he says, and for a moment nothing seemed to happen. But then his father blinked open his eyes, and rose. The injury on his backside had healed, and the Warner family shared a hug while the onlookers cheered and celebrated.

Together they made their way back to Warnerstock happily. When they reach Saeela’s village once again, Yakko greets the witch and tells them it was her potion that saved their father’s life. Their father graciously thanks her, and offers for her to come with them to the castle to be rewarded. She respectfully declines, and when told that if she needs anything she can simply ask, she looks down at Yakko with a wink and says, “Oh don’t worry. I’ll reach out soon.” The oldest Warner blinks, and though he knows she’s referring to the price that she mentioned when he had asked for her help, he is still unsure on what she means. Nevertheless, they continue on their way home, Saeela waving after them with a twinkle in her eye.

A week passes by and once again the family is reunited. In that time, Yakko gets all the answers he needs about why they left without their children. Their father and mother regain the crown, though Dot, Wakko, and Yakko sit proudly by their side. He tells them that he is proud of how well they had run the kingdom while they were away, glad to see that Salazar’s tyranny had all but disappeared. From that moment on, Warnerstock is at peace and prospers under the Warner’s rule.

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

And that's the end! :D Sorry if it seems too dark or out of character, or if something doesn't follow with the movie. ^~^" I haven't seen Wakko's Wish in a bit so if I made any mistakes someone please tell me! Hope you all enjoyed though! :D

If y'all have any questions or want to do anything with this don't be afraid to do so/ask! ^3^

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 83 - Respite

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 2,245

Summary: The aftermath of their escape leads to an answer.

Also available on Yatorihell AO3

The salty sea air pushed Yato’s hair back from his eyes. He stood with his hands in his pockets, staring down at the stone he had dragged from the beach’s outcrop up a short distance away from the cottage. Carved into its jagged surface were a few words: Ebisu, a free elf.

Yato dropped his gaze to his shoes and then tilted his head back with a sigh. Thin beams of sunlight filtered through the cloud, but the wind was still biting enough to numb his cheeks.

When will it end? Yato thought. First Suzuha, then Sakura, now Ebisu. His friends, his family, all risking their lives to stop what he could. If he just knew where to look, to know where to find and destroy the horcruxes.

There’s no way to destroy them now, anyway, Yato had thought to himself. The Sword of Gryffindor was gone now, possibly already on its way back to Oshi’s vault in Gringotts or kept hidden so the Sorcerer would never know it was gone.

Yato tilted his head forward and stared out at the choppy waves for a second before heading back inside. They didn’t know where Ebisu had brought them, but they found refuge in a deserted cottage that sat on the edge of the shoreline. The white painted exterior had peeled away, and weeds sprung up from the seagrass and sand surrounding it. The sign nailed beside the door read ‘Shell Cottage’, but the absence of shells in the décor and the lack of nautical themes inside made the name’s whimsical appeal ring hollow.

The stairs creaked under Yato’s weight as he made his way upstairs. Kazuma and Bishamon were already asleep, having left Yato after Ebisu’s burial for a moment’s privacy. Yukine, on the other hand, was still awake.

The bedroom door was cracked open, and Yato gently pushed it open. Grey sunlight filtered in through the flimsy mess curtain, sending shadows across the bedspread. Dust had accumulated on the surfaces and drifts of sand had worked their way in through the cracks in the window frame.

Yukine looked up from his chair at the movement, and seeing Yato’s cautious approach, nodded.

Yato stepped into the room, eyes fixed on Hiyori. She was still asleep, hair messed up and her arm across her chest which rose and fell steadily. Spots of blood had seeped through the bandages already, marking the points of some letters of the ‘Mudblood’ wound Oshi had inflicted.

“How is she?” Yato said gently, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. A brief memory crossed his mind, of how he had sat like this with her in the infirmary at Hogwarts, hands intertwined, but he dared not touch her.

“Still asleep,” Yukine replied.

Yato nodded. Part of him felt guilty for not staying by her side despite his grieving for Ebisu, but a larger part of him couldn’t bring himself to face her after what happened. There was a pause of silence broken by gull cries over the bay.

Yukine looked at Hiyori for a moment, face soft, before he looked down at his own lap. “I… I don’t think her wound will ever fully heal…”

Yato stiffened, eyes flickering to the bandages. Just like what Oshi did to Yukine…

No. This was worse. No dark object had seared Hiyori’s skin like Yukine’s; this was caused by pure hatred.

Yato's fingernails dug into his palms, hands calmly as he tried to fight the guilt rising in his chest that threatened to claim him again. His vision was blurry. Why would he cry when nothing happened to him? When they did everything to... When he didn't...

"I did nothing."

The hoarse whisper clogged his throat like smoke. The one phrase that had become trapped in his mind since last night, like a butterfly in a jar, its wings becoming more damaged each time it hurled itself at the glass in the hopes of freedom.

“It’s not your fault Yato,” Yukine said softly. “Oshi is mad, and she wouldn’t have believed a word any of us said. We would all be dead if it weren’t for Ebisu.”

Yato took a shuddering breath, a warm tear splashing on his wrist. He wiped his eyes, throat burning and breath quivering. Yukine was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to block out those images. Those memories would stay with him forever.

Hiyori stirred slightly and they stilled. Her head rolled to the side, brow furrowed. Silence blanketed the room – for how long neither of them knew – before Yato spoke.

“You should get some sleep,” Yato said, not taking his eyes off Hiyori.

Yukine nodded. They had been awake all night, and Yato knew he should sleep too, but his mind was wired with grief and guilt. He didn’t want to leave Hiyori like this, and Yukine knew as much.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Yato allowed the tears to fall.

~

The first time Hiyori woke up was screaming.

Yato jerked awake, dull pain in his back from being slumped over, eyes wide and mind racing with the nightmare of the previous day fresh in his dreams. Hiyori was sat bolt upright, her hand wrenching away from Yato’s grip. The sheets had tangled her legs, trapping her and adding fuel to her panic as she screamed again.

“Hiyori, it’s ok, you’re safe!” Yato shushed, his hands pulling away from her and held up in the darkness.

Hiyori breathed hard, her eyes adjusting, ears attuned to the sound of his voice. She looked at him, the unfamiliar room, and the dark, curtained window. Her arm throbbed, fresh spots of blood blossoming from the sudden aggravation. Her mouth hung open, tears on her cheeks as she realised she was no longer a prisoner under torture.

“It’s ok,” Yato soothed, reaching for Hiyori’s hand. His skin grazed her fingers. “We’re safe.”

Hiyori flinched. Yato froze, and after a second, withdrew his hand back into his lap.

The house remained silent. None of the others had woken up from the outburst – probably too tired and out of it to hear the brief night terror screams to be roused. There was only the beating of their hearts and a silent understanding of what they had been through, of what they had survived.

Yato couldn’t bear it.

“I’m sorry.”

There was a beat of silence that hung in the air between them. Another apology for something he caused. Another apology for the hurt he brought those around him.

“It’s not your fault, Yato,” Hiyori tried to whisper, but it came out as a croak.

Yato shot her a sideways look, grief, and pain etched in his features. No matter how many times he heard those words, he would never believe them, not truly.

With a nod, Yato stood on weak legs and slipped out of the door.

Hiyori’s composure lasted long enough for Yato to leave the room. Once his footsteps faded, the first shuddering breath racked through her chest. Any remaining strength slipped from Hiyori's control as her breaths turned to cries that she muffled against her hand.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes when she squeezed them shut, trying to erase the memories that are scarred into her mind. Her fingers drifted to her arm, to the bandages. To the reminder of what she is.

Dirty blood.

~

Yato came downstairs with dark circles under his eyes, having been unable to sleep following Hiyori flinching at his touch and the new reoccurring nightmare that would seemingly plague his dreams. Yukine, Bishamon, and Kazuma were already in the sitting room, arranged on the dusty sofas and armchairs and ravaging the kitchen for what little food the cottages' owners had left.

Hiyori joined them not too long after, and a brief glance told Yato that she hadn’t slept well either. Bishamon set out a packet of half-eaten, stale biscuits on the low table that no one made a move to touch.

“What’s the plan now?” Yukine asked, resting his arms on his knees. “The sword is gone, and we don’t know where the next horcrux is.”

“We do know,” Yato said. All eyes turned on him.

“How can you know where it is? It’s been lost for decades,” Bishamon leaned forward in the armchair, hand straying to Kazuma’s hair as he sat on the floor in front of her.

“It has, but I’ve seen it,” Yato explained. He briefly described the vision he had of the goblet loaded with jewels and pearls, resting alongside the Sword of Gryffindor and the sound of a door grating shut.

“Oshi sent the sword to her vault in Gringotts,” Yato summarised. “But why was she so fixated on not letting the S-.”

“Don’t say that!” Kazuma and Bishamon said quickly, cutting Yato off. He, Yukine, and Hiyori looked at them.

“There’s a taboo jinx on that word,” Kazuma explained. “It reveals the speaker’s location. It’s how they found out about us since we said it so much on the radio.”

It suddenly dawned on Yato, Yukine and Hiyori: that was how the Deatheater’s had found them so quickly after the wedding attack. That’s how Nagini was able to ambush them, knowing they were going to Godric’s Hollow to look for the sword.

Yato nodded. “But why was she so fixated on not letting him know that we got into the vault?”

“Because Gringotts is impenetrable?” Kazuma offered.

“Yes, but what if there was something more important in there?”

The question hung in the air for a dramatic moment.

“What if,” Yato said slowly. “The horcrux is in the vault?”

The air stilled. The vision which showed the sword – which Oshi confirmed was in her vault in Gringotts – along with the goblet, spilling precious gems and glittering jewels. The heavy grate of a door – a vault door – slamming shut.

“Then we’re screwed,” Yukine said, flopping back on the sofa next to Hiyori. “As Kazuma said, Gringotts is impenetrable. And even if you did get past the goblins, the security, and the dragon, you would get lost and starve to death before you even found the right vault.”

“I don’t think there’s actually a dragon,” Hiyori said.

Yato looked at her. She had been quiet the entire time; a ghost in the corner watching them talk. He noticed her fiddling with a stray end of the bandage on her arm and looked away.

“Leave the dragon to me,” Yato said. “We just need to get in the front door without getting stopped.”

There was a momentary lull in the conversation as if they were contemplating whether Yato had too many knocks to the head or was getting desperate. To Yato, it felt like a mix of the two, but it was the only option.

Yato looked to Kazuma, questions brimming that he’d wanted to ask before they got Snatched, something that had been revealed to him in a vision. “We think another horcrux is Ravenclaw’s Diadem.”

Kazuma’s head snapped up at this, eyes reproachful behind his frames.

“We think it may be in Hogwarts. Is it kept in a vault, the common room…?” Yato ventured, but Kazuma was already shaking his head.

“The Diadem has been missing for centuries after Rowena’s own daughter stole it,” Kazuma said. “No one alive has seen it.”

Another silence washed over them. ‘No one alive who has seen it'. Yato sighed. It looked like it would be up to him to track down the Diadem too.

“Also,” Yato continued, arms crossed. “That newspaper in your house, about Professor Tenjin’s grave being disturbed, what happened?”

It seemed strange that someone would go to such lengths to tomb-raid a man of little extravagance, but it seemed that not even the Daily Prophet would report what was taken, which was suspicious.

Kazuma looked at Yato with a slightly surprised expression before he realised they had no way of knowing anything about it. “Someone – ‘persons unknown’ –, broke into his tomb and took the Elder Wand.”

Yato stared at him along with Hiyori, Yukine, and Bishamon.

“Are you serious? The Elder Wand exists?” Yukine said.

“All the Deathly Hallows exist.”

“What do you mean, Tenjin owned the Elder Wand?” Yato interrupted.

Kazuma shrugged. “Well, he didn’t go advertising it. You know what happens to its owners.”

Owners… Yato thought. A wand was either matched to a wizard at Ollivanders, inherited, or won. He didn’t know enough about the lore of the Elder Wand to know who possessed the wand before Tenjin, but he knew that winning a wand could be done by killing its owner. That meant…

“Kugaha owns the Elder Wand,” Yato said quietly, running a hand through his hair. “He killed Tenjin. He’s the owner.”

Yukine swore under his breath. The most powerful wand in the world was in a Dark Wizard’s hands. All he would have to do was lose a duel to the Sorcerer and it would be his. A chilling thought crossed their minds: Did the Sorcerer already possess the Elder Wand?

Time was of the essence. If the Sorcerer did own the Elder Wand, then he may also possess the Philosopher’s Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility. He would become the Master of Death; unstoppable.

“We need to destroy the rest of the horcruxes,” Yato said.

He looked at Kazuma, Bishamon, Yukine, and finally, Hiyori. It would be near impossible – a suicide mission – but it had to be done.

“We have to break into Gringotts.”

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Why So Jaded? Chapter 1

c

Ok, so forever ago, I wrote this story called Why So Jaded for the pairing of Synlet (Buddy “Syndrome” Pine/ Violet Parr) and when I originally wrote it- I got halfway through and lost my drive, inspiration and motivation and I gave it a really lack luster/shoddy ending just to finish it and move on to something else. Which I felt guilty over because the story had so much potential to be something amazing. But I didn’t know how to really wield it then. Well, fast forward several years (9 to be exact), and I’ve grown considerably as a writer. And guess what is getting a revamp? This. So to put this into a real setting, I’ve face casted the crew. Bottom right Aged Up Violet Par who is now 24. Middle redhead. (You will not believe what I’ve gone through to find the right face model for him) Bartholomew “Buddy” Pine, aged. 31. Blonde on the left. Phillip Sebastian. Aged 26. 

FFN AO3

Ten years after the events in the movies yet in a modern setting. 

Violet Parr as Invisigirl, has since disappeared from the public eye several years ago. She became a protégé to none other than Mirage and has had an incredibly successful career still working for The Agency but working as a spy and agent behind the scenes and foiled more Villains than most Superheroes combined, all without anyone but The Agency ever knowing that she was the one who foiled them. 

However Superhero Work has it's price- mentally, emotionally and most of all physically and now Invisigirl has to come out of the shadows and work one last job as a public handler for an Aristo-brat, genius, billionaire, playboy- Mr. Phillip Sebastian who has his own tricks and agenda and requests Invisigirl specifically. Which in turn- put's her back on the radar and put's her under an iron clad contract with not just The Agency but with Mr. Sebastian himself. And it's this one last job that will be the answer to all of Violet Parr's problems. After this, she can disappear for good and never, ever, be found again and live in peace and seclusion.  However this job has it’s perks. A handsome asset, one hell of a paycheck and the bonus is that it puts her back into Metroville with her parents and the rest of her family who live just across town, still in suburbia. It's a three year contract and she is already a year in and everything is going perfectly. 

Until- Bartholomew aka “Buddy” Pine decides to try his hand at corporate espionage. His target? Phillip Sebastian. Which complicates- everything- for one Miss. Violet Parr. What’s a girl to do?

Why So Jaded?

Chapter 1

Buddy Pine tried to take a calming breath as he continued to work the safe, inside was gold and jewels and other precious things he could care less about. But in the far corner, in an unassuming box would be the nanochip to end all nanochips. It would give IRize all the edge it would ever need on the market. But the more he fought with this stupid safe combination biometric lock, the more frustrated he felt. The biometrics? Easy to fake and duplicate- it was basically a cake walk for him but getting the right three numbers on the combination? Ironically, almost impossible it seemed. It shouldn't be this difficult. But it was. He had built an empire in his relatively short lifetime of just 31 years on this earth and he was on his way to building a second that would dwarf the first. But a damn combination safe lock? It was practically laughing in his face and taunting his defeat at him and he was ready to bash it with his head or just laser the damn thing open and he was so focused on opening it, he didn't notice how the hairs on his arms and neck suddenly rose up to stand on end but the chill down his spine finally pulled him out of his hyper focus which gave him pause.

"I figured I would find you here," Invisigirl accused only a second later as she dropped her invisibility as she leaned her back against the wall next to the safe and casually folded her arms in front of her, watching him closely while putting on an air of amused disinterest as Buddy nearly jumped out of his skin and had a heart attack before he took a moment to realize what was happening and who exactly had snuck up on him before he recognized his new companion.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that Invisigirl ," Buddy chastised as he stopped for a moment, seeing if she was going to stop him or arrest him or something. Meanwhile Invisigirl was impressed he seemed to know who she was. Most assumed she was another super. But he didn’t. He seemed to know exactly who she was. Interesting. 

In a decade or so she had gone from tween to fully realized Super but she wasn't always walking in her parent's footsteps. In fact very few people even knew where she really stood on the Superhero/Villain or even antihero line mostly because she never did any press or appearances. She had no merch, no public presence and other than foiling a few public villains, she liked to keep her work all behind the scenes and very secretive, if not quite clandestine. She was more of a secret agent and a spy than a superhero and in reality she had done countless jobs without the villains even realizing she was ever involved at all and the few who did realize who had foiled them, rarely got to live long enough to tell anyone who had taken them down, but word had still come out, whispered among closest of allies on both sides. Enough to build a dangerous and lethal reputation among Supers and Villains and even antiheroes alike. It was like she was a ghost most of the time.

Besides, she wasn't even supposed to be here, she was supposed to be half a world away with him, her employer and Buddy’s real competition and target, but who was sadly, one of many competitors. Only about a year ago, there was a paparazzi picture that popped up of her as an assistant of her current employer and it was the first time she had shown up on any radar in the last several years. And it had been an old colleague that had even brought it to Buddy's attention and his jaw had dropped when he realized who she was and ever since Buddy had noticed she got closer and closer to her boss to the point it was rumored that she was his right hand woman if not one woman security detail even though her employer was still guarded by a full security team. A rumor also sprang up that she was also his steady girlfriend because she was his shadow and he never went anywhere without her and coincidentally, it was also the same man who owned the safe he was trying to crack and who had become Buddy’s number 1 rival after his fall from grace a decade earlier. Buddy would have to fire his trackers, they were completely useless now.

"Actually you technically sneaked up on me, I've been here the whole time, and that thing you do with your tongue when you're really concentrating is kinda cute," Invisigirl countered in dry sarcasm with an air of teasing as she examined her gloves, looking for imperfections even though she had carefully crafted her look so that even in the smallest details, she was immaculate. Even her suit had changed. Instead of the traditional red and black of her family, she was in holographic black with sheens and shimmers of the colors of the rainbow with ultraviolet accents and even his eyes could see the brilliant nano armor built into the ethereal fabric that looked remarkably like snake scales. It had been Edna's greatest creation yet and Violet wore it like a second skin. Her long black hair was straightened and even her hair had a super glossy silky sheen as it laid over her shoulder since she had swept it to lay there. She had been growing it out so that it would hit the small of her back and top of her butt when she wore it down, accentuating her gorgeous hourglass figure. While her mother had been bottom heavy and her father had been top heavy. She was perfectly balanced between the two and if anything, ideally and beautifully balanced and proportional, if not dangerously curvy herself and was now a stunning beauty in and out of her suit apparently. Her thick long eyelashes delicately fluttered as she blinked and the wicked curve to her grin was as disarming as her big gorgeous doe eyes in that deep but brilliant shade of violet- that Buddy felt he could get lost in for millennia. But her eyes had many years ago- lost their innocence but gained a sense of worldliness, wisdom and discernment as she looked from her glove back over to his face with a serene if not expectant look on her coquettish features. If Buddy didn't know of her prior, he would think she was the real thief in this situation, if not his competition to get into the safe. And her relaxed posture was clearly non threatening even though he could discern everything about her was in fact, a threat .

But Buddy took her banter and her posture as a sign that she wasn't going to stop him so he continued working the dial, trying to crack the safe and they were silent for a moment as she made no motion that would suggest she was leaving anytime soon as she appeared to settle in and the only sounds to be heard was their breathing. Invisigirl's was calm and even, while Buddy's betrayed just how worked up he was over this combination part of the lock.

"You know, I never thought you would ever be the kind of guy who would do his own dirty work, I thought with this kind of thing you usually used a variety of accomplices, if not some little device or machine, what happened? Your safe cracker device is broken? " Invisigirl instigated as she gave his work a dismissive glance before her eyes traveled up his hands to his arms to the rest of him. Gone was his old suit and eccentric hair style. He was simply wearing black tactical gear and his hair was much shorter, slicked back and still handsome as her eyes took notes of his extensive scarring that even she could see he had been trying to fix with lots plastic surgery so he looked more or less like himself as she refolded her arms loosely under her chest and instead appreciated the painting on the adjacent wall, the glass covering the priceless art giving her the perspective she wanted so that she could look like she was appreciating the art instead of actively watching him as she waited for him to figure out that safe combination as she mentally wondered if she should just open the safe herself to save him this excruciating ordeal because the guy was clearly getting even more flustered now that he had an audience which she thought was telling.

"As a matter of fact, it is. But if you want a job done right, you do it yourself." Buddy managed to answer as he tried to focus on the task at hand as he noticed that answer gave her wicked grin a deeper curve.

"It sounds like you haven't tried to crack a safe in your life, are you even trying to crack it or are you trying to break the locking mechanism by zeroing in on all of those false contact points or will you keep twisting that thing until your fingers fall off?" Invisigirl further instigated as her boredom began to tax her patience. He was supposed to still be a genius. He should have had it by now. She knew she was being distracting but this was bordering on ludicrousy.   

"I don't suppose you know the combination?" Buddy drawled, getting annoyed and frustrated with himself that he was getting so flustered by her distracting and alluring presence, let alone the damn lock.

"Of course I do, the combination is your birthday, the creator is a big fan of yours, perhaps one of your biggest, but I'm sure if you simply asked him for the nanochip, he would have given it to you rather than you going through all this trouble of stealing it from him," Invisigirl answered.

"I didn't know your boyfriend was the sharing type," Buddy quipped as he turned the dial with now deft fingers, opening it now with ease. Invisigirl snorted a laugh and shook her head.

"Well at least my cover is intact," she alluded as she pushed off the wall and stretched a bit- bringing her arm over her head and stretching her shoulders and neck. "By the way it's the box on the left, not the right," She added as she began to walk away, flipping her hair off of her shoulder to her back as a cascade of soft silky black hair began to hang down her back as she gave him one last look over her shoulder to make sure he actually got the nanochip and nothing else.

"Wait a minute, you're just going to let me get away with this?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it's not my fault you broke in on my vacation when I'm supposed to be in.. Barcelona? Or is it Madrid? Is that where your goons think I am? By the way, you need to get new ones, they don't blend in at all and their loyalty is flimsy at best, they report their tabs that they keep on you to him before they ever report thier tabs on him to you because his pockets are deeper than yours and who doesn't like to collect at least two paychecks for the same work?" Invisigirl divulged as she continued to lazily saunter away, her hips swaying in a near hypnotizing rhythm that had almost completely distracted Buddy from the safe altogether.

Buddy narrowed his eyes at the contents of the safe, it would be something he would deal with later. "Wait, so he's not your boyfriend?" Buddy inquired as he stowed the nanochip safely away and locked the safe up again before catching up to her and walking beside her for a bit.

Invisigirl gave him a side glance. "Not even close, he has a thing for the thin, ballerina- runway model types, uses them faster than Kleenex," Invisigirl answered flippantly with a waive of her delicate and slender fingers before turning a corner and opening a door to an office and walking over to the window, opening it and getting ready to jump out.

"You're jumping?" Buddy inquired knowing that his exit route was eerily similar.

"Again. Not even close," Invisigirl practically laughed as she tapped on the device in her ear, a sliding door to a small hovercraft opened right in front of them as the outline of it began to warp the view around it as it moved closer to her. "You didn't think I'm the only thing capable of disappearing did you? I would offer you a ride but, something tells me you already have one, see you around Syndrome," Invisigirl bid him with a mock salute as she gracefully hopped from the window sill to the waiting door and into the aircraft.

"Hey, haven't you heard? Syndrome died, like a decade ago, he got pulled into a jet turbine. Horrible painful death. He ain't coming back from the dead." He called after her which made her pause and turn to look at him curiously.

"Did he? Well in that case. Good riddance to him then, the world's a much better place without him." She called back before the door closed and vanished completely again. The only evidence that it was gone was a stiffer than normal breeze. Buddy could just barely hear it fly away and felt his stomach collect a few butterflies as a smile bloomed on his face. A jaded Invisigirl was a sexy Invisigirl and she knew it. Color him intrigued, if not quite impressed as he wondered if he was one of the first to ever get to see her in action and live to tell about it.

[randomwordprompts]

If It’s Magic | Chapter 9

A/N: I’m still alive and writing barely! But yeah that’s all, here’s the chapter hope you don’t hate it!!

Warnings: angst out the ass, mentions of self-harm

Translations:  Et tu n'auras jamais à le faire, mon amour. = And you’ll never have to, my love.

Taglist: @bakarilennox @wakandas-vibranium @wakandan-flowerz @yaachtynoboat711 @storibambino @reaperdeldrunk @soufcakmistress @thadelightfulone @babygirlofwakanda

December 2015

Amira tried to keep her full attention on the psych professor as she droned on about how physical traumas can trigger people to manifest multiple personalities as a way to cope but found herself starting to doze off. By the time the class was over she nearly hit her head on her desk, she’d nodded off so hard. If not for Lucy grabbing her shoulder suddenly she just might have, the concern on her face clear as she saw something she never saw of her roommate.

“You okay love? You’ve been getting more and more lethargic these days.”

“Yeah I’m good, just need to try and get more sleep at night,” Amira reassured with a weary smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Truthfully, she wasn’t fine at all and she knew it. Ever since her and Jason broke things off after Halloween she’d been proverbially starving herself due to her emotions getting the best of her. She felt as if she wasn’t the way that she was then maybe she wouldn’t have the problems that she did with him, and was currently denying her very nature based on this thought. She thought she could go for longer than a month but she was already feeling the strain on her system. Amira was lethargic, having trouble concentrating, and growing worse by the day. That night when she tried to sleep her body temperature rose to a fever pitch, making her sweat and shiver at the same time. When she opened her eyes and went to go get another blanket she found that her body ached to the point that she couldn’t even get out of bed. Calling out for Lucy, she groaned internally at what she was about to ask her friend to do for her. When Lucy came in and saw Amira’s condition she immediately rushed to her side to check on her and was prepared to call 911 when she was stopped by Amira’s voice, the sound a weak echo of her normal self.

“Lu...call Xavier.”

…

“Alright nigga what the hell have you caught and why are you trying to give it to me?!”

Daniel nearly flipped over the back of the couch at the sight of Xavier coming towards him looking slightly pale and rather unkempt. He seemed like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks and it was finally beginning to catch up with him and frankly, Daniel was a little nervous about his roommate’s well-being. At the look on his face, Xavier sat down on the couch and began to explain what was happening to him.

“I’m not sick. Not in the sense of having a virus, at least. I’ve been feeding a bit less these days and it’s starting to kick my ass. I might call someone over or something because if I go too long without feeding it could kill me.”

“Well shit, it looks like it already killed you about three days ago.”

Just when Xavier was about to give a snarky reply, his phone rang with a call from the last person in the world he expected. When he answered the phone however, he was surprised to hear what sounded like Lucy crying.

“Hey Lucy, what’s wrong? Is everything ok with Amira?”

“X, I don’t know what to do with her! She’s got a fever and she’s shivering and she looks like she caught the deadliest strain of the flu she could find. I was gonna call an ambulance but the last thing she said before she passed back out was to call you...please get here, I don’t know what to do.”

“What?! Alright, I’m on my way I’ll be there in like 10.”

Before Daniel could even ask what was going on Xavier got up and bolted for the door, not even bothering to lock it behind him. Once he reached the apartment he knocked hard enough to almost be mistaken for the police and was almost immediately met with Lucy’s tear-stained face, obviously confused about what to do in this situation. He moved past her with purpose towards Amira’s room, leaving Lucy to close and lock the door before following on his heels.

“X, wh-what’s going on? What’s wrong with Mira? I’ve never seen her like this…”

Xavier turned to Lucy as he sat on the side of the bed, trying to calm down the racing of his heart at the sight of Amira before him.

“Please breathe, I need you calm right now. Has Amira been feeding regularly?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I know she hasn’t been hanging around anyone like that since she broke up with Jason really.”

Xavier nodded slowly, ignoring the flutter of hope that shot through his heart and continued his questions. “And how long ago was that?”

“I wanna say a month or so ago. I could tell she was sad about it and taking a break from romantic activities.”

He sighed, looking over Amira before pressing his wrist to her forehead, a tip from his mother for checking someone’s temperature. She was hot to the touch and definitely running a fever, though she was obviously putting up a good fight. It didn’t take long for Xavier to figure out what he needed to do, but that didn’t make it easy. He could feel her aura getting weaker as he sat at her side, thinking to himself that this was not how he planned to eventually woo her back into his arms. After reassuring Lucy that she’d be fine he asked her to give them some privacy. With a soft sigh, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, followed by her closed eyes, nose, cheeks, and finally her lips. The butterfly kisses brought her back to almost full consciousness, though it was clear she was still very weak. When she opened her eyes to see his concerned face, she started to speak.

“You came...I wasn’t sure if you would.”

“I don’t know what made you think I wouldn’t. Why have you been starving yourself, mon petit?”

Amira looked away from his gaze, the sincerity and care in it too much for her to take at that moment. She felt the tears involuntarily well up in her eyes and turned away to hide them, a whimper falling from her lips when he gently pulled her chin to look back at him. As if she was under a spell she started to tell Xavier all that had been in her head. Her insecurities, her pain, her anger, everything. By the time she finished her tears streamed freely as she sweat and shivered at the same time, Xavier listened patiently while waiting for her to finish.

“How could anybody be willing to deal with this,” she said with a sigh.

He shook his head with a humorless chuckle and caressed her face.

“You make yourself sound like a burden when you’re a gift. Nothing about you needs to change, you are a precious jewel just as you are. I’m sorry that you ever had to think otherwise.”

With those words, Xavier leaned down and kissed Amria once more, though this time with purpose. She could feel his energy changing and flowing into her, and her body responded in kind. Her fever started to break, though her skin grew hot for different reasons as they continued to embrace. He pulled back and broke the kiss for a moment to stand and take off his shirt, pants, and shoes before climbing into the bed with her and holding her tight. Amira shivered to his body against hers after so long and a part of her wanted to reject what he was trying to give her but before the thoughts that got her into this dark place could take over he leaned in close and whispered into her ear.

“I don’t have all the love that you deserve, but I’m going to give you all that I have. Please don’t leave me again…”

The Morning After

 Amira woke to the smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes with a low groan, her head throbbing as if she had a hangover. When she opened her eyes to look at the clock it read 11:00am and there was a rather large glass of water next to it with a small note that read “Drink Me :D” The sight made her realize that her mouth and throat were dry, so she sat up and began to drink it, gulping the water down in almost record time before sighing with pure relief. As she got her bearings she slipped out of bed and slowly made her way towards the scent of food, surprised to find Xavier in her kitchenette dancing about while flipping pancakes and humming along to whatever tune was in his head. It didn’t take long for him to notice Amira since the moment she stepped out of her room Lucy shot up from the couch and ran over to her almost frantically.

“Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re okay! Bitch don’t ever do that again!!! Trying to give me a fucking heart attack!!”

Amira snorted a bit as Lucy hugged her and tightly and held her nearly to the point of pain, though she still looked over at Xavier from time to time. He turned off the stove once he finished breakfast and came over to help pry one roommate off the other.

“Good morning, sunshine. I’m glad you’re okay too, though I may have called in some reinforcements just in case.”

Amira finally spoke then, sounding more like herself than the night before. “Reinforcements? Who the hell did you call?!” 

As if on cue a loud knock came to the front door followed by a familiar voice yelling, “EITHER OPEN THE DOOR OR I’M KICKING IT DOWN!!”

A light shuffle followed that statement along with a rather hard smack that had Amira going over to the door to open it up before a fight broke out. What she saw didn’t surprise her much, if at all. Her entire family had come, looking as if they saw a ghost when she opened the door for them. Francois was rubbing the back of their head from where Pauline had smacked them for threatening to kick down the door, Hannibal looked rather exhausted as did Jonathan and Will, Diana nearly tackled her daughter and Elisha simply sighed watching the rest of her family and their various reactions. Before Amira could get a full word out her mother was checking her eyes and body for any signs that she wasn’t okay while everyone else began to file into the apartment. Francois went past their family and right up to Xavier who stood by with Lucy, punching him square in the kidney before anyone could stop them. 

The demon in question doubled over with a low grunt followed by a groan of pain, but he made no moves to hit Francois back.

“Fair enough, I had that coming,” he coughed out before moving back towards the kitchen.

Amira called out to her older sibling with a groan while Pauline smacked them on the head yet again and Diana continued to check and dote on her daughter. Once she realized the young woman was overall okay despite her condition when Xavier called them late that night before she backed off to give her some air.

“You seem to be fine for now, but do you care to tell me what happened here?”

"I...was starving myself. After things ended with Jason I just felt so worthless and I didn't know how to handle things…"

Everyone listened intently and looked on with judgment-free faces, though when her eyes connected with Xavier's she saw a pain that wasn't hers. A pain that was covered with an anger that she could feel across the room. It wasn't until he made his way back over then he began to speak, voice low and deep.

"Amira...do you have any idea what would've happened to me if you died?"

She opened her mouth but closed it when she couldn't find an answer for him. Diana let out a soft "oh no..." before he continued.

"We are bonded, even when you block me. You hurt, I hurt. You feel, I feel. You die...I die. Not physically, but something much worse. I would literally lose my fucking mind if you died, Amira. They'd have to commit me because my brain can't logically comprehend life without you in it."

Amira and Xavier locked eyes once more and she felt like her heart was shattering all over again. She felt tears but realized her face wasn't wet yet, it was him who was crying silently. Just when she reached out for him he turned away and started to walk towards the door, only stopping when she ran over to stand in front of him.

"Xavier, I'm sorry. I didn't think about anyone but myself and I was wrong for that.."

He didn't meet her gaze until her hand touched his face, red eyes filled with more emotion than he could verbally express. With a shaky voice, he answered her, his entire body trembling. 

"I d-don't wanna imagine life w-without you…" 

"Et tu n'auras jamais à le faire, mon amour."

Without another word, they hugged for the first time in forever and Amira opened her heart to him in a way she hadn’t since they broke up. The influx of emotion they both felt nearly knocked the air out of the two young demons as they held each other like it was the last time they’d see each other. Lucy and most of the Lectors looked on with teary eyes at the blatant display of love until a familiar sarcastic voice spoke up.

“It’s about damn time you two got it together. Now, what did the tall one make for breakfast because we drove all night to get here and I’m hungry as hell.”

Amira pulled back from Xavier to look at her brother with a dry expression. “Jon...you’re always hungry. Damned bean pole.”

“Don’t hate, short stuff. I’ll put you on the top shelf and leave you there.”

The cackle that sounded from Francois resulted more so from the look on Amira’s face than Jon’s remark but before things could escalate Xavier pulled away from her to grab plates and utensils for everyone.

[jflashandclash]

Traitors of Olympus IV: THE LAST CHAPTER!!!

           Their lunch went over the amount of time Pax had allotted, but there was no way he would cut it early. The appreciation on Merry’s face and the relief on Kally’s were worth every second of catch up he had to play, even as he bantered into the phone.

           “Are you suggesting this meeting is more important than my own affairs?” Pax let the iciness slip into Santiago’s voice. The other end of the line went into panicked silence. Everyone thought Santiago had disappeared for good, but he couldn’t yet. Not when there were so many unresolved legal issues to attend to and so many people Pax could mess with.

           Other than his phone argument, the van had been marked with uncomfortable silence. Alabaster spent the time doing his jaw stretches and exercises. Pax wanted to make a comment about a few other ways to work out Alabaster’s jaw, but—after one very awkward bathhouse incident where Pax forgot who he was—Pax had promised to check the mirror before he tried hitting on anyone. Or give tackle hugs. That had ended well with Axel.

           Axel couldn’t stand to look at him when he did this. He didn’t even like hearing Pax talk. Some disturbed part of Pax enjoyed it, like Muahahha! This is how if feels! But, Pax knew that was about as fair as betting against Prometheus or Tyche.[1]

On the note of feeling vindicated about triggering Axel’s trauma and why, Pax admitted, it was unfair, Pax had chosen to hang the Triple A Chimera masks in their throne room. That way, he would cringe every time he caught saw the Leonis Caput helm and had to rub the stump where his hand used to be. Call it the espresso shot of incentive for whenever he wavered on their cause or thought about painting weasels instead of going to one of Santiago’s business meetings.

           Axel didn’t choose to see Santiago again the way Pax chose to see the helm. Axel had voiced his opinion on the matter very thoroughly and with a lot of violent gum chewing. If Pax kept this up, and they found a way to attach an electrical plant to Axel’s mouth, Pax suspected they could power the entirety of Camp Othrys (Remastered) with his vehemence.

           As their white van pulled alongside the other pharmaceutical vans, Pax ended the phone call. He grinned at the others, shuffling to his feet. No matter how often he turned into Santiago, he never got used to the limp.

           “Good news everyone!” he said.

           Curiosity sparkled in Alabaster’s green eyes. He sat up on the opposite bench. “Did you get a dead body?”

           “I got a dead body!”

           Axel didn’t say a word or react as he exited the driver’s side. He didn’t wait for them either, going ahead through the back entrance’s hidden doors.

           Pax tried not to let Axel’s anger dampen his spirits. Instead, he focused on this opportunity: Axel had left Alabaster to his mercy.

Pax rose to his feet, almost stumbling on the bad leg.

           Alabaster hopped out of the van. He sighed and extended a hand to help him.

           Pax fished around his suit jacket—it became easier wearing the same clothes his dad did when he was morphing this often—and nipped a bite of his golden apple. He didn’t need to anymore. He had morphed into Santiago as soon as they dropped off the girls, but he enjoyed the sensation. Before Alabaster could withdraw, Pax morphed again.

           That way, when he staggered down and leaned against Alabaster for support, Pax looked like a voluptuous, hot chick whose curves barely fit in the now-tight business suit.

           Alabaster had a hard time looking at him. “Ajax,” he growled, though in threat or complaint, Pax wouldn’t know until Alabaster set him on fire.

           Pax grinned up at him. “The corpse is super fresh, only an hour dead. It’s the right height, weight, race, and age. How much time will you need to give him a proper, evil gimp leg and some Iago fangs?”

           That had been a fun experience. When Alabaster set to work making a mold of Santiago’s mouth from Pax’s morphed one, Pax had a hard time not trying to eat the bubble-flavored molding. Eventually, Alabaster switched the flavor to something much less delicious.

           Pax tightened his—her? Unlike Lapis, who demanded a certain pronoun, he never really cared what pronoun he used, even when his family jewels turned into… that didn’t seem fair that girl’s parts weren’t also called family jewels. They were as precious. Maybe family pearls? He’d have to consult Urbandictionary later. Regardless, her for now. Pax tightened her hand around Alabaster’s tie. The bracelet that Alabaster had made for Pax glinted along her wrist in the sunlight.

Witch boy had a much harder time rebuffing her when Pax was a girl.

           Alabaster swallowed at their proximity but didn’t withdraw. He looked exhausted, probably from hot-girl-overdrive from seeing Kally earlier. “To trick a mortal, a few hours. If the coroner identifying him ends up being a demigod…” he shrugged.

           Pax had forgotten, for a second, they were talking about altering a body. She nuzzled her face against Alabaster’s shoulder, her longer hair spill out the ponytail and across the two of them. Although the child of Hecate’s spell pouches were all by his belt now, his scent still hinted at the herbs he carried.

Other than that bathing house incident, Pax had been an upstanding gentlelady… gentleman… gentle person? Whatever. Which really meant she hadn’t had time to disrespect anyone’s boundaries, or so Pax kept telling himself. That and she feared she’d breakdown if she let herself get cuddly with Alabaster. She had to be strong. Strong Pax baby that used all that bottled up fear, pain, and anger to scheme. Muahaha.

           But Pax wanted hugs after not touching Kally the whole meal. And Pax had been so well-behaved recently. So much so, that Alabaster hadn’t set him on fire in months. Maybe…

           “So, I see you get hot and bothered by corpse talk. If I keep chatting about it, will you let me give your neck a makeover? Look at Axel. It’s all the rage these days,” Pax said. It had been so long since she properly flirted, she almost forgot to make her eyes super wide when she blinked up at him.

           “Ajax, I appreciate that you’ve kept to your promise for the last two months,” Alabaster said. “Don’t—”

           Someone cleared their throat by the back entrance of the temple.

           Axel must have doubled back from inside to give Lucius the automaton donkey a bucket of oil. He leaned against the door, arms folded, glaring, though Pax couldn’t tell if it was more at her or at Alabaster.

           Pax pouted.

           Alabaster tapped Pax’s bracelet.

           Pax’s Mist hand dissolved. The glove collapsed into nothing, leaving the red scarring of a stumped wrist.

           All his concentration faded. Pax morphed back into a boy, clutching his stump and empty glove against his chest.

           That was meaner than anything Alabaster could have said, but Pax carefully kept his pout. Making Alabaster question his sexuality for a few seconds: a victory that trumped all other loses, including that of a functional limb. Probably.[2]

           “Even if the Belizean coroner is a demigod, he isn’t paid enough money to pay attention to something like that,” Axel said, like his little brother hadn’t been trying to seduce his friend and use a van with sleeping bags the way teenagers were supposed to use a van with sleeping bags.

           Alabaster fixed his tie. The skin under his freckles was bright red despite the way he tried to glare. “If we can properly set up the body in the swamps of Belize, it’ll look more like a suicide than a murder.”

            “See, that. That’s exactly the kind of violence I want. Good ol’ autosacrifice!” Pax kept his smile strong. He refused to puff up his cheeks and pop them while thinking about autosacrifice: the amount of blood that he and Lapis had shed to contact the Vision Serpent recently. This time, he wanted to proceed as carefully as possible and get all the supernatural, visiony approval as possible before things went wrong. No more rash Pax baby.

           He led the others towards the backdoors of the temple. He was pleased to see some new recruit had graffitied kittens around the door entrance. The next hallway wasn’t nearly as cheerful—Matthias had been focusing so much on restructuring the new housing that he’d only managed to put up posters of bands for this area of redecoration.

           “Santiago is making a huge point to say he’s traveling to his home town for something important next week,” Pax said to and winked at Axel. “After that, Mr. Soon-To-Be-Legally-Pax-Patriarch, you and Lapis will never have to look at him again. Except in family photos. We should burn all our family photos.”

           Axel clenched his jaw in his best illustration of I can be hot, mysterious, AND mopey. “I don’t like that you’re doing this.”

           That was a conversation that Pax wanted to hear again about as much as he wanted to watch Alabaster cut off his useless hand again. Sure, in a few ways, he’d asked for both, but that didn’t mean he needed another bonding experience with a hatchet or a grumpy older brother.

           Nausea threatened his stomach as he thought about how much easier it could have been with Kally there. She wouldn’t have let the procedure continue without him being sedated. But, she wouldn’t have let a lot of things happen that Pax knew needed to happen.

           He shook off the feeling, jamming his stump harder into his ribs to force himself to focus. They got to the elevator at the end of the hall. It was already opening with the auto sensor Matthias had installed.

“Yea,” Pax said, “And I don’t like that my brother got attacked by an empousa and won’t tell me about it. You said you were going to find a way to easily change the subject from our updated style. You didn’t say you were going onto Vampire’s Anonymous. Did you at least give as good as you got?”

           Axel sighed. When he rubbed his bruises, his expression turned wistful. They got inside, and Axel pressed his finger into the scanner for a quick blood sample to get to the top floor. “Ajax, I’m pretty sure I’d kill someone if I tried to do this to their neck. And, I would never give you a lead that obvious.”

           Pax grumbled in Mayan. If Axel was leaving territorial marks, he could have looked into whether or not Reyna or Thalia had gotten a sudden propensity for scarves.  Pax couldn’t believe he’d been so busy that he didn’t even have a guess as to which girl was Axel’s new best friend and which was his nibble buddy.

           “When she’s ready for it to become public…” Axel trailed off. He puffed up his cheeks and popped them. “Then you’ll know. I’m not exactly fond of keeping our relationship a secret.” There was a hint of bitterness.

           Pax huffed. “Augh, that’s no help either! Is it secret because of Thalia’s connection to the huntresses or Reyna’s position as praetor? You wouldn’t violate Thalia’s vows, but you also wouldn’t want to jeopardize Reyna’s already shaky claim as praetor. And I don’t know whether or not you thought relieving sexual tension through neck play was a way around Thalia’s vows—”

           “Ajax,” Axel warned. “Girlfriend or friend, I don’t even let Jack speak disrespectfully of someone I care about.”

           “Does Jack know?!” Pax demanded.

           Alabaster cleared his throat. “I think Lapis may have let it slip.”

           Which meant Lapis knew. Dude, Axel sucked at keeping secrets. “Ha! You didn’t mention Bast! Besides, if it was her, she’s not one to get catty with the other girls, but would be prideful about her including Axel in her pride.”

           “Not necessarily,” Alabaster said. “She’s supposed to be in the Duat. She’s been sneaking off to visit us.”

           Axel’s cheeks grew red.

           Pax’s eyes widened. “Oh?”

           “It’s not Bast,” Axel said curtly, eliminating one. “She’s a bit too… maternal and and—um—aggressive for me.”

           Pax shook his head. “Ah, having a hot familial figure that wants to bang you. Now you know how I feel when I go on lunch dates with my half-sister.”

           Before the elevator dinged for the complete stop at the top floor, something phased through the shiny metal. It scurried up Pax’s pant leg, tiny nails tearing into the silky fabric, saving Pax from Axel and Alabaster’s glares.

           Between the “Aye! Aye! Aye!”s, Pax laughed. Baller, his weasel, burrowed into Pax’s sleeve, nesting into his armpit. Once the door opened, two more weasels scurried about their feet. Axel knelt down to pet Hunnie on the nose and accepted when the weasel wrapped around his hand in a battle strike. Alabaster tossed Nietzsche, the albino, something.

           All three took off after whatever the dark object was as it scuttled further into the atrium. Obsidian doors were in the wall across from the elevator doors, one ajar to allow the rodents to enter. Pax wasn’t sure what to do with remodeling the atrium yet. It was imposing, as he felt like it should be, but they also lacked something fun, like bean bags and a dartboard with Jason Grace’s face.[3]

           He really wanted Matthias to design a twenty story slide or fireman’s pole from this room to the bottom of the temple. Matthias said that would kill too many new recruits. Pax argued that it wouldn’t if they made it end in 20 feet of feathers. Alabaster said Pax didn’t understand the science of impact, but that Alabaster would see if he and Lou Ellen could make some kind of Mist buffer to accomplish the task.

           Giggles interrupted Pax’s thoughts.

           Just inside the doorway, he could see three girls duck out of sight. The sunlight in the room had glinted off their crimson skin so they looked like vanishing demons or, as Pax preferred, ethnically-ambiguous cartoon characters.

           “Huh, Euna must be tending to the—” Alabaster started.

           Pax gulped and sprinted for the door. “Cho!”

           Axel immediately caught up along his side as they busted through the doorway. “What?!”

           “I let Hiro loose!” Pax said. He’d meant it as a kind gesture—honestly, his littlest brother needed to get out from time to time, but Hiro and Euna hadn’t been in the same room since—

           They skidded to a stop inside. Everything sounded peacefully quiet. In Pax’s not-peaceful life, he knew that meant everyone had probably killed each other. The sound that shredded the peace was a blade sliding against another blade.

           Comforting.

           More giggles erupted.

           Axel and Pax scanned the room. There had been a lot of adjustments. The massive walnut trees expanded to form a canopy over the front section of the enormous throne room. Light could still come from the square dome at the top of the ceiling, especially with the mirrors they added to optimize the amount of sun, but the atrium was still dimmer than pre-forest times.

           In the center of the room, where Eris’ pithos once sat atop an alter, was Joey’s statue, still smiling with pride. That and the throne were lit magnificently. Pax had made sure of it. Both to honor Joey and to annoy her if she could still sense the brightness.

           The two tables that had once been used for meetings had been removed, leaving the throne in the back as the only piece of real furniture.

           In a maze across the ceiling, Pax had added metal bars, like monkey bars constructed by a maniac, with ladders installed on either side of the wall to reach them.

           That’s where they found the chaos.

           A fourteen-year-old half-Japanese boy dangled from the bars beside a tree that was further from the rest. His legs bobbed uselessly under him as he scrambled to catch one of the crimson nymphs.

           Pax knew there would be sixteen of those monstrosities in total, but he only spotted about a dozen in the branches, playing Keep Away with his littlest brother.

A crimson nymph curled up in a softly sobbing ball away from the others. Near her, Pax caught sight of Euna. She was, Pax assumed, pruning some of that nymph’s branches. Although most of the branches were thicker than her arm, Euna snipped them off with single strikes.

           He knew the last nymph would be by the former fire pit, and was too small to play with the others. Euna had already named that dryad Resilience since it was a sapling stubbornly sprouting from Santiago’s tree stump.  

           The walnut trees had red leaves, like the color of the nymph’s skin, hair, and eyes. Something about not having enough light for typical photosynthesis—bla-bla-bla—chemistry—bla-bla-bla—child of Demeter. All Pax cared about was the fact that Euna had NOT decided to prune Hiro’s functional limbs.

           Axel and Pax sighed in relief. Alabaster strolled in behind them, unconcerned.

           At their hurried entrance, some of the nymphs disappeared back into their trees. Euna set her shears down, then touched the snipped off sections. The bark rippled, healing over the nubs to leave little more than a scar. She knelt down beside the sobbing dryad, gently brushing away her tears with her work gloves. “Your branches were criss-crossed. We had to pick the strongest branch, since they would have been sickly if we kept both,” she said.

           The nymph sniffed and crawled up to lean into Euna’s long, black hair that hung over her shoulder.

           Euna awkwardly patted her back. Then, she gently set the nymph back into her tree.

           Once done, she brushed her gloves on her jeans and walked towards them. The vines and leaves dangling from her hair and limbs seemed to whisper with each step. Pax loved the fact that she hadn’t learned to control the whole “god glow” thing. It meant he wouldn’t trip over her when she found odd areas to nap or that he could use her as a nightlight.

           At Alabaster’s raised eyebrow, Euna shrugged. “It’s not their fault that they’re full grown and have the mental capacity of toddlers.”

           As much as Euna looked disinterested, she had been tending to these trees, and the former-fire-pit-new-garden, religiously. Axel and Pax had been worried about their favorite homicidal Korean until they brought her into this room and the dryads flocked to her like creepy, Satanic ducklings to their mother. When they were a little more developed, he was sure they’d run shrieking, “Mom’s home!”anytime Euna returned from missions.

           The creepy blood-born babies brought Euna peace and purpose beyond murder. Plus, it sort of solved the satanic dryad infestation. Still there, but at least they were more like pets and Hiro’s playmates than unwanted rodents. (Pax heard that most people didn’t want rodents in their houses, which he thought absurd.)

           Euna smiled at Axel as she tossed something at his head from her pocket. “Happy early birthday.”

           Axel caught it, flashing a fanged grin. They’d been playing a lot of “surprise” catch to work on her situational awareness. He held up the glass vial with something gold and fleshy inside. Attached to the lid were a pair of familiar sunglasses that seemed to glow with an internal fire. “Is this—”

           “A trophy from our fight last week?” she said. “Yea. Congrats. One down. Eleven to go.”

           Axel looked ecstatic. He hugged the heart-jar close to him with one hand, then held out the other in a fist. “Pound it,” he said.

           She fist bumped him. Her dark eyes searched around in lazy confusion. “Why isn’t Kally with you?”

           “Yea, Ajax, why did we deviate from the plan?” Alabaster asked, shooting him a side-glare.

           Pax had been hoping to avoid this conversation for as long as possible. At least now he had the perfect illustration as to his reasoning. “Because you just gave Axel a heart in a jar as a birthday gift.”

           “I thought it was very considerate and sweet,” Axel objected. He stepped around the group, walking towards the back wall. As he crossed paths with Joey’s statue, he nodded a greeting, then he continued forward, to put the jar in the section they’d designated for trophies.

Pax pondered over installing a modern art piece on the back wall. They already had the Triple A Chimera helms mounted there and Phobetor’s piccolo-hatchet. If they were going to have a menagerie of random godly item and organs, you might as well shape them into a weasel.

“Where’s Lapis?” Pax asked, watching Hiro snatch at a dryad. The girl giggled and hopped to a different branch. He swung down from the monkey bars, onto the tree, not realizing how hard he’d smashed his knees into another branch. They needed to buy him shin guards or a riot shield for his legs.

           “With the new recruits,” Euna said. “How’d the talk with Reyna go about the soldiers defecting from New Rome?”

           Axel snorted. “We’re protecting defectors and her reputation is on the line. How well do you think it went?”

           “So it was the huntress!” Pax said and snapped his fingers.

           Euna gave Pax a confused glance. “Do you mean Thalia? She hasn’t been a huntress for… um…” Her eyebrows furrowed. “The middle of the sweet potato harvest?”

           The fact that time had become difficult for their sprouting godling wasn’t the part of that sentence interested Pax.

           “A month,” Axel supplied, patiently “You and I celebrated her physical sweet sixteen with her, Percy, and Annabeth about a month ago.”

           “Holy Titans,” Pax whined, “So she—”

Before he could start guessing, Euna waved him off, sprinkling him with dirt from her gloves. “It didn’t have to do anything with me or Axel.”

           Axel shook his head. “The prophecy she was trying to prevent is over and she has paid proper homage to her fallen friend. She had some other reasons, but they didn’t have to do with any current romantic intentions.” The way he said it labeled the topic clearly with Off Limits.

           “Hrm, and an argument between you and Reyna could easily end in a nomnom fest. Augh!” Pax ran a hand through his hair, messing up the gel and pulling more out of his ponytail. “How have I become such a terrible information gatherer?”

           “I don’t know. You were gone on one of your ‘business’ meetings,” Axel said.

           The first month had been insane. Pax had to meet with a lot of contacts, both in the pharmaceutical world and mythological one, to prove Santiago wasn’t dead. He and Claymore had spent many a torturous session on how to conduct a business meeting without discussing anything serious, so Claymore could handle emails that involved real dealings. And, there had been the rebranding. Pretending Santiago had found God or whatever they decided to change some of the “business” practices.

           Technically, Pax supposed, Santiago had found some god.

           Pax’s stomach clenched to think of some of the stuff that happened to him when Axel was too “busy” during their time at Camp Othrys. One glance at Axel’s bitter glare, and Pax calmed.

           “Hey,” he protested at Axel and Alabaster’s scowls, “I got this. You promised me. Six months. I know that’s an insanely long time for neither of you to have an aneurism, but I have four more months of unquestioned Pax tyranny and I think I’ve been taking pretty good care of us so far. Reese’s Sticks for everyone!”

           “Yea, but how much of that time have you spent as you?” Axel asked. His ears flattened against his hairline.

           Alabaster nodded. “You haven’t pulled a single prank in a month or worked on any art projects. Matthias has a calendar recording it.”

           Euna made a face. “How does Matthias have time for that?”

           Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them, swearing prank vengeance on Matthias as soon as he had time to conduct a proper prank. He pressed the stump of his hand into his ribs. His eyes drifted to Joey’s statue, to what Hera had done to her, and to the Leonis Caput helm and to what the god of war—former god of war, he corrected gleefully—and the goddess of love had done to Axel. That was why he had to do this.

           That’s also why he couldn’t break down in front of the others. They needed a strong leader, else Alabaster wouldn’t be able to focus on cracking the curse of Joey’s statue, Axel wouldn’t be able to finally relax enough to play bump in the night with the girl he liked or set up the training regiment for their newbies, Euna… Euna would probably do whatever Euna wanted to, but he liked to think she’d have a harder time focusing on her new god-powers and sanity without him putting forward some effort.

           And, he wasn’t ready to admit to them the problems he was still in denial about, like the times he’d gotten stuck as Santiago and called Atë in a panic as he scratched and clawed at his own face. At Santiago’s face? Pax looked too much like the photos to glance in mirrors anymore. That’s when the private lessons started of How to Be a God 101. Atë had taught him how to alter a single feature on his face, so no one would notice the gashes. She had taught him a lot.

He forced himself not to tremble.

           Pax gave them a devilish smile, realizing he must have missed a response from Axel. “If I fail, you’re allowed to pull my ear off. If it works, I’m punishment-free for another six months.” He winked at Alabaster. “Then I can coddle Witch boy without interruption.”

           Alabaster sighed. “Ajax, don’t make me sabotage Camp Othrys to maintain my dignity. I will.”

           “I will be allowed to court him in polite, gentlefolk fashion,” Pax corrected. “Girls can court people too nowadays, Witch Boy.” He winked again.

           “You’re not a girl,” Alabaster said, not looking at him or Axel. Axel made the terrible mistake of thinking Alabaster was the older of the two, so would blame anything that happened on him.

           “I can if I want to be,” Pax said. This was when he was supposed to bump Alabaster’s hip if he was acting normal, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when he had been Santiago so often. He wished he could pretend, like he had for that second by the van.

           “Kally hits hard now,” Axel observed, saving Alabaster a response. He rubbed his shoulder, the same spot that Kally had given each of them a solid welt.

           Pax refrained from touching his with his stump. He and Alabaster exchanged a glance before Pax glared at Axel. “I know your vetting process for Axel’s List of Requirements for Taste in Sexy Ladies. Don’t get any ideas.”

           Axel laughed, clearly not catching onto Pax’s threatening tone or the way Alabaster had set a hand on his spell pouches. “I’m just saying that she must still be training with Mr. Paine,” Axel said, “She must be bored, or even scared having to deal with monsters on her own. You said you were going to bring her, Ajax, and tell the others about this.” That bitterness returned to his voice. “And I think Lapis is going to kill you if we don’t have Merry start sessions with Hiro.”

           “Look at him. He’s as happy as a condor with a deer carcass,” Pax said, gesturing to where Hiro had latched himself to one of the braches and was biting at the bark. They really needed to get him down before he fell again. Hiro didn’t need the lower half of his body when he was doing the horizontal swing of the monkey bars, but he struggled more with the vertical jumps on the trees.

           Hiro, as they discovered, did not like looking up. It sent him into a fit. So, Pax reasoned, they would just make it so Hiro could move all around the temple without much up to look at. That didn’t work though when one of the more malicious dryads tricked him to the lower branches and he couldn’t boost himself up to climb and couldn’t use his legs to jump down.

           “For now. You know he’ll fall apart when his medication wears off,” Alabaster muttered.

           Pax couldn’t argue. “We do need a healer…” he said softly. “I just don’t know if Kally is ready for… this.” He gestured widely to Santiago’s throne room with its demonic dryads and eerie gloom and doom.

           “Are you trying to make sure someone is comfortable?” Euna asked skeptically.

           “No, I live to discomfort others,” Pax said.

           Alabaster sighed. He reached into Pax’s pocket to withdraw his phone and set it into Pax’s hand. “We need a healer in more ways than one.”        

           Axel’s shoulder slumped. “And maybe someone to keep us in check. If it ever gets to the point that you don’t feel like you can have Kally here, maybe we’ve gone too far.”

           Pax wanted to say Exhibit A and point to the heart in a jar, but he knew they were talking about his recent fad for dress up. Just one more week though. Then some poor Belizean tourists would find “Santiago Pax” dead in a swamp and his will would divvy up his fortune with his recently acquitted son, Axel Pax, as the executor.[4]

           Would that change anything for Pax though?

           There was still so much to do. Others could do it so much better than Pax, well “Pax” as himself. It had been so much easier not being himself.  

           If Kally were here, he would have to do things a different way. She could read all of them like a book. Stupid authors and their assumptions on people’s—haha—character. She wouldn’t let him do his weekly visits with his half-sister, or sequester himself in his room under the guise of business meetings, or talk to the new recruits as Santiago because Santiago was so much better as a leader than he was.

           Maybe she could help him find a balance between serious, tyrant Pax and that soft child-prankster. What he normally was. If nothing else, her presence would get Alabaster and Axel off his back. Kally would probably be so lost adjusting the first week, she wouldn’t be able to keep track of him and his movements or who he was. If he set Alabaster up as her tour guide, then they’d both be too distracted—

           What was Pax thinking?! He had to be there if Alabaster and Kally would be battling for cutest and most oblivious flirt.

           Axel had thought this through too well.

           Pax sighed heavily. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, squared his shoulders, and tried—as best as he’d learned with one hand—to smooth his hair back into a tighter ponytail.

           Alabaster tapped the bracelet on Pax’s wrist.

           Mist emanated from the silver and gold band and twisted until it formed a hand. Pax still got phantom limb spasms, but at least the Mist hand worked. He smoothed the gel back down. His stray hair, this week he took to calling it One Who Dodges Hair Ties, popped out to curl down his cheek.

           “Can I at least make an official announcement?” Pax pouted.

           Axel stepped out of the path to the throne. After a split second of her staring off into the trees, he dragged Euna out of the way too.

           Pax walked through the room. As he passed Joey’s statue, he gave their marbled friend a quick kiss on the cheek, something he’d done every day they moved her here. Had he found out that she had a crush for him before she died, he’d have teased her relentlessly, and decided to make up for it during her stone age.

           “I bought you a pre-released recording session for EXO,” he said, “I heard Suho’s vocals can crack any girl’s hardened heart.”

           He set the CD at her feet. He still couldn’t believe people bought CDs. That was supposed to be for creatures that walked the earth hundreds of years ago. Later, they would have to pull the old CD player they’d salvaged out of Santiago’s room to give her some easy listening.

           Pax continued forward, forcing himself to look at the Leonis Caput helm on the back wall. It felt right to have a heart in a jar nearby. The sight made him wonder if Alabaster had put Pax’s severed hand in a bottle of formaldehyde and it was now floating somewhere in the Witch Boy’s laboratory. Pax wished he could still move the limb despite being severed. Then he’d make it wave to Alabaster every time he knew Alabaster was in his lab. Questions to ask Atë when next he saw her.

           Finally, Pax leveled with the throne of bones that was sewn together with tendons. He’d thrown a smiling panda car seat over it. Baby steps in remodeling.

           When he sat down—bones were very uncomfortable; Pax didn’t know what his father had been thinking—he saw Alabaster mid-eyebrow raise, Axel trying not to avert his gaze, and Euna staring off at Hiro as he chased a dryad around the canopy.

           He cleared his throat. “I promise to kidnap Kally—”

           “Bring Kally with parental knowledge and consent,” Axel corrected.

           “Hey.” Pax glared at the interruption. “We’re not shooting for gold and diamonds here.”        

           Euna shrugged, proving she was paying attention. “It went well with my dad.”

           All three boys shifted uncomfortably. “You call that ‘well?’” Alabaster asked.

           “Your dad hits really hard for a mortal,” Axel said, though Pax couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a complaint.

           “He kept up with his military training,” Euna said, “I think he’s supposed to be visiting sometime this week.”

           Alabaster and Pax groaned. Mr. Song had a very strict expectation for his daughters’ livelihood and Camp Othrys II didn’t meet it.

           “Anyway,” Pax said, “I hereby say that Kally shall come here, but under one condition and one condition only.” He pointed a finger at Axel. “You tell me which girl got your neck.”

           Axel’s jaw started to clench, but his lips curved into a tired smile. “You know what? Deal. You bring in Kally, I’ll leave hints that any capable spymaster should be able to figure out.”

           “Ah, a challenge,” Pax said. He couldn’t decide if he was thrilled or annoyed. The fact that it was a question between the two emotions made Pax wonder if Alabaster and Axel were right: he needed to relax and smell the puff pastries.

           “Assuming you have the time to take said challenge.” Axel examined his claws on his right hand. His pointer and middle finger barely had new growth from when they ripped off in the Labyrinth. Pax decided not to ask, since it was so inappropriate—

           “Is it easier to court your girl now that those fingers have become more versatile?” Pax asked.

           Alabaster choked on a laugh.

           From somewhere in the trees, Hiro whistled.[5]

           Axel’s face deepened to crimson. Those fingers curled into a fist. “Ajax, you have four months left before I can rip off your ear.”

           “Allegedly,” Alabaster said.

           “I think it was a reasonable question,” Euna said, “Those claws have gotta get in the way.”

           Axel tried to keep his expression neutral as he changed the subject. “How are we going to tell Kally about this?” He gestured to their trophy wall: trophies from the minor gods that they had killed—two tiny gods and now one major. Ta-da! Pax was really proud of them for sticking to their New Year’s Resolution. Some people went to gyms. Some people slew a deity per month.

           “Maybe we should ease her more into this,” Alabaster said.

           Pax had to agree. Glancing from Joey’s statue to the Leonis Caput helm, he felt a smile crawl onto his lips. A malicious glee made him tap the armrest of his bone throne. In an instance that made him realize just how desperately they needed Kally to keep them in check, he leaned forward and asked, “The real question is: One down. Eleven to go. Who are we going after next?”

 ***

All the Author’s Notes!

This concludes the Traitors of Olympus series. For those of you who have made it through all of this madness, I can’t thank you enough for taking this journey with me, and it has been a crazy journey. (Pax is sobbing behind me. I think I saw Axel wipe a tear away too. Nope. Nope, that’s just him showing off his claws…) I hope you were able to enjoy this ending (it is VERY different than its original conception) and I really hope you’ve enjoyed the ride! As always, I’d love to hear any of your thoughts on the series, favorite ships, favorite scenes, favorite characters, or even for you just to say a quick, “Hi!” XD You guys rock and made this possible! (I’m not crying while writing this, I swear)

By September, I’m aiming to have the first short from Tales from Mount Othrys out, the prologue to this series, so you might not be rid of me just yet. Hold onto those pitchforks!

 ***

Thank you so much to Mel, my betatester and close friend, for inspiring me and encouraging me to keep going (and doting on my babies while I traumatize them). I would have crashed and burned forever ago without you. <3

And, lastly, I wanted to write a quick dedication to my Merry: I know you’re never going to read this, but this is how I wish things could have gone for you and your Nikhil. I’m sorry everything didn’t turn out like a storybook ending—you did everything you could with what was given to you. Please, remember that, and remember to take care of yourself. Nikhil, I hope you’ve found your favorite place to jam to comedy R&B in the Elysian Fields, hanging with the other heroes, like you, who are so good at bringing a smile to people’s faces.

***

Footnotes:

[1] Tyche vs. Prometheus. I think Tyche would win, because luck always destroys careful planning.

[2] Yea, I know Pax hit on him as a girl. Pax will still consider that making Alabaster question his sexuality, since Pax believes Alabaster’s sexuality is exclusively dedicated to his laboratory.

[3] Some things never change. Though Jack does think Jason Grace and Axel are now friends much to Pax’s pouty distaste.

[4] In Mel’s betanotes, she read this first as the Pokemon, “Exeggutor” and thought of an Axel version of that. I mean… Axel is both a psychic and nature type….

[5] Melbeta note, “HIRO FUCKING WHISTLED YOU GO YOU SMOL CHEEKY LITTLE PAX GET YOUR KICKS WHERE YOU CAN GET THEM XD XD … OH GOSH THAT PUN WASN’T INTENDED AND WAS MEANER THAN I EVER MEANT I’M SO SORRY!” Jack, “I couldn’t stop laughing at this. I think you understand why I needed to put this in here XD”

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 45

Title & Song: Take Me To Church

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count:  4300+

Summary: Genevieve decides it’s time to tell Alfie the truth.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Talk of abuse.

**Chapter song is Take Me To Church by Hozier**

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

***If this is your first time reading this story, don’t start here as it will contain huge spoilers and it’s best read unspoiled. <3 Thanks.***

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-44)

You'd kept the promise to yourself of having nothing but wine until the cloud of grief started to depart from above your head. Alfie had gone back to work, giving you plenty of time to think. And you certainly needed it. You'd not made yourself work, you let things autopilot for a bit, just trying to control yourself and your thoughts and you were honestly feeling better.

You'd spent the afternoon in your secret room that lay behind your concealed room full of jewels. You'd started with gawking at your Faberge eggs, a glass of wine in your hand as you let the music from your record player move your hips about the highly decorated room.

The conversation with your Uncle, the letter from your father and mother, the intimate night you'd spent side by side with Alfie...all had your heart feeling a lot of things. You chew your lip and stare at the almost unnoticeable recess in the wall, wondering if you could stand to go into the room or if you'd lose your progress if you let yourself into your chamber full of memories. Perhaps it's the wine, perhaps your heart just desperately needed something concrete to latch onto, but you unlock and slide the door out of the way, leaving it just cracked as you flip on the chandelier that hung from the domed ceiling in the circular room.

You pace it in circles, sipping your wine, looking at the trunks, the stacks of hat boxes and the piles of paintings as you make your way to the large painting of Lilith that graced a wall made especially for it to rest on. You let out a heavy sigh, still feeling so proud every time you looked at it. A nude woman, Lilith with firey, long hair in lush scenery, snakes coiling around her body. You'd fallen in love with it the moment you'd seen it.

It was the first painting you'd ever stolen. Seeing as you stole it from a museum, a task that in hindsight wasn't the brightest idea, but you were so proud of your younger self for doing it and the memories brought a much-needed smile to your face. Looking at it, thinking of its endless layers of symbolism and meaning for you personally made your chest hurt. You sat beneath it, popping open a trunk that your mother had sent you after you'd bought your apartment in Paris. She missed you and you missed her, and seeing as you were a woman on the rise and on her own, she'd sent you the family heirlooms she'd managed to keep hidden from your father, hoping that you would somehow find a use for them one day. You hadn't had much hope that they'd ever see the light of day again, but a part of you now, deep deep down somewhere thought that maybe... there might be the possibility now that they could.

You run your fingers over the beautiful pieces made of silver and gold, bejeweled and still shining after you wipe away the dust. You set them to the side, looking to the rest of the contents of the trunk. The doll Elizabeth had sent you years ago, you give it a hug, setting it in your lap. It's long dark hair and shiny dark eyes did resemble you and you'd never found it as endearing as you did now.

What you'd found as passive aggressive when you'd first seen it, now meant the world to you, your mother wedding veil. At least father had let her still use it. You believe it was her mothers as it was fine and delicate but beautiful in its simple beading and fabric, you have the urge to place it on your head but you hold back. No need to open Pandora's box just yet.

A very worn and now holey scarf of your uncles that he'd given you was kept in here now, you'd used it to almost pieces, having mended it many times over. It used to smell like him, and that's why you loved it, it always made you feel safe and was a reminder that there was a man out there that loved you. It was as precious to you as the heirlooms, having been on so many of your first jobs with you. You'd even risked being caught to go back and retrieve it more than once.

The last thing at the bottom, a large ring, costume jewelry, but you'd worn it until it broke as a child. Your uncle had told you he'd taken it from a place in the holy land, and you knew that to be a lie now, but at the time you wore it so proudly. You felt like the most special little girl in the world. Perhaps you should blame him for your fascination with jewels, the memories bring tears to your eyes but for the first time in weeks, they were happy tears.

You'd spent a lot of time thinking about the truth today. How objective it could be, how it could be hidden and manipulated. You sat next to that trunk and thought through more glasses of wine, a few more tears, a few more laughs as you thumbed through old journals and memories of your family and felt connected through the pieces they'd passed down over the years.

You reach one of the last entries, another fight with your father. Your raging hormones had led you to scream the truth at him, about how you'd known for years and you'd tell your brothers and sisters to and then the world. The next entry has droplets of tears and blood on the page, a reminder of how he'd tried to beat that free spirit out of you. That girl that longed to be free from his restraints that weren't warranted and served no one but himself. You feel that same anger, even years past now and you wonder if your younger self would be disappointed with you.

You look into the mirror across the room that sat propped against a wall. An antique piece you'd brought from your apartment in Paris, now the reflective surface veined and muddled by time. You'd love it so much you hadn't wanted to chance it getting broken in the fragile state of its glass and frame and left it in here. You see how your reflection has changed from the time it hung on the wall of your tiny apartment that you fought so hard for. So much had changed, and yet so very little had all the same. Your face now older, but you still felt like that same little girl didn't you? Still walking under an invisible shadow, flinching at the mentions of your father, torn between telling the truth and staying safe.

But now you were a woman. You'd made a life for yourself, and you dare even entertain the thought that you might've found someone to share your life with. And you knew if you really were going to be with Alfie that couldn't live a lie anymore. You knew you owed it to yourself, and at this point, you certainly owed it to him. You knew your father deserved anything bad coming to him, and now with his last action of cutting you off from everyone, he'd given you a sort of freedom, hadn't he? He had nothing to threaten you with anymore. He'd taken your family away, he couldn't take your money or your belongings, they were all yours, and if he came for you for your illegal activities, you knew your Uncle wouldn't stand for it, neither would Alfie you liked to think. Even Palmer had said he would choose your relationship over the relationship he had with your father. Somewhere in your youthful rebellion that turned into a career, you'd secured a spot for yourself in the shadows of the high society that your father liked to creep about in. But now, you were the one with something to offer...not him.

You delicately place the items back in the trunk and pick up your now empty glass of wine. You never thought the day would come, but it had hadn't it? You were elated and you were terrified.

You notice how buzzed you are when you try to walk out of the room, but you don't think that this is a bad decision despite that fact. So you follow through.

"Aggie!" you shout from your doorway, and as always, give or take a few minutes she appears.

"Yes, my darling, what is it?"

"Would you send Alfie to my room please?"

"Of course dear, any reason?"

"I don't mean my bedroom." her eyebrows raise.

"Oh, you mean your...YOUR room." she almost stutters.

"Yes..." you pause she can see your face is serious. "I have something I need to tell him."

Her eyes go as wide as saucers.

"At breakfast in the morning, I want all the staff; house, land, and company together. I'll have an announcement to make."

Her hand reaches up to grab the pendant on her necklace. "What about?"

"It's not about marriage if you're leaping that far." you shake your head but she still seems nervous. "It's more important than that." you whisper.

"Genevieve you're going to give me a heart attack just tell me."

"I'm going to tell him the truth." your face looks oddly indifferent.

"The truth?"

"Yes." she keeps her eyes, blinking on you. "About my family."

She stumbles back slightly. "You...are you..sure? That's...Genevieve that's..."

"I know." you nod. "I'm tired of hiding. Tired of lying and pretending. It's time."

She moves and holds your face and kisses your cheeks. "My dear I have never been more proud to know you."

"I think Alfie's a good place to start...don't you?" you ask genuinely.

"I think it's the best place to start my child." she kisses your forehead and scurries away. --- You're pushing heavy canvases back and forth, looking over all the powerful women the paintings were subjects of. Ones you'd collected and never hung on your walls proudly where all could see. That would change soon.

"Is something the matter with Agatha she's a bit more jittery than usual." you hear Alfis say from the other room. "Fuckin' what?" the confusion at the newly existing hole in the wall clear in his voice. "What the fuck is this?" he asks, eyes wide as you turn to greet him as he walks into your personal sanctuary.

"My secret room." you answer softly, moving your hands out as if to present it.

"This been here the whole time?" his brows furrowed as he takes in its contents.

"Yeah. It's where I keep my most personal things."

He stays quiet for a moment, eyes finally landing on the large Lilith painting on the wall behind you.

"With what happened with my father when Elizabeth died..." your lips purse in thought of how to do this. "It crushed me at first, burned me to the ground as you witnessed." he moves towards you now, a kind expression worn for you as you talk about your pain. "But I see now it's an opportunity that I couldn't have afforded before. I have to rise from the ashes now."

"Like a phoenix, yeah." he nods, looking at you curiously.

"I wanted to share some pieces of myself with you." your eyes are so honest it cuts him deep when you meet his eyes. He could feel something different in the air around you. "Things I've not shared with anyone really. Some I've kept secret just for personal reasons, some I've been forced to keep."

"Forced?" he says, lips frowning at the thought.

"Yes." you nod. "Like this painting..." you say, turning to point to the Lilith portrait again. "This is the first painting I ever stole." he sees the smile on your face and his nerves eased.

"Really? You kept it?" he smiles back at you, standing next to you.

"I fell in love with it the moment I saw it and the museum wouldn't sell it to me so I stole it." you grin.

"I see not much has changed." he chuckles, knocking you with his elbow.

"If I fall in love with something and I can't have it through conventional means...I will find a way." your eyes meet his for a moment and his jaw tenses, following your odd smile as you turn and walk to the other side of the room. "Take a look around, Alfie. Ask whatever questions come into your head. You might as well have been giving a key to my mind and heart the moment you stepped in here. This room holds everything precious to me."

"And the eggs are in the other room?"

"Things far more intimate and meaningful are in here."

He's taken back by the answer. He thought you were absolutely bonkers over those eggs. He sees you're actively revealing yourself to him, and he's nervous as to why. He has many theories but he works within the parameters you've set for him.

He looks through the big canvases all in a pile against the wall. "I know you're fond of Lilith but it seems you're also fond of Judith as well?"

"I love the stories as a child. My uncle would read them to me. Told me I could grow up to be just as powerful if I wanted."

"This uncle...he on your mother's side of the family?"

"Yes. George didn't have any family left. Not that I would've spent any time with them willingly anyway. My mother's family was always where my heart was. Lovely people." you say with a warm smile.

"I'm guessin' I'm just lucky you never tried to cut my head off with a sword." he muses.

"I'd never." you let out a chuckle, opening a hat box full of papers and sifting through them. Drawings, letters, writings all mixed together from different eras of your life.

You let him peruse, he touches everything he passes, landing on your mother's veil. "This your mum's?" he asks, holding it as delicately as you had and it makes your stomach form knots.

"Yeah. It was her wedding veil."

"Lovely, that," he says softly. "That the dress?" he asks, a pointed finger a pile of dresses, a white on top of the pile where the veil sat.

"No. She gave Sara her wedding dress since she was the first to marry."

"But you got the veil?"

"Sara didn't want it." you shake your head.

"Your sister Elizabeth...she was married, she not want it either?" he asks, trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together that he couldn't see.

"No." you shake your head again.

"May I ask why not?"

"The veil was her mother's, and it meant a lot to her. I was the only child close to her side of the family, she thought it fitting I have it."

"Even though you're...and forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn but...even if you didn't want to be married?" he's grasping at something, you can see it in his eyes.

"It's not that I..." you shrug and sigh. His face falls as he sees you shake the thought out of your head. "She sent it a long time ago. Before Elizabeth was engaged." Only one confession per day, Genevieve, don't get sidetracked. You didn't want to explain that you'd just never thought you'd find anyone worth marrying. Not that you were against it.

He makes his way over to the trunk and you feel nauseous. "And this?"

"Things my mother sent for me to keep after I bought my first place in Paris. Pieces handed down in the family and the like." you say as casually as you can manage. You set the papers in your hands down to rest on the top of a box to hide how your hands were shaking.

"May I open it?"

"Yes, please." you say quietly with a supportive nod.

"Oh, how adorable. She looks just like you." he says in an amused tone, wiggling the doll in your direction and you smile.

"Elizabeth thought so as well. She put it in the trunk for me to have when mother sent it." the smile stays on your face for a moment.

He moves the large scarf, something that would hold no obvious importance to him, you see notebooks stacked neatly as he gets to what's in the bottom of the trunk.

"Fuckin' hell," he says in awe, holding up the Kiddush cup your mother had sent. "This is fuckin' breath-takin' luv!" he says, holding the silver and jeweled goblet in his hands, his eyes wide. "My family woulda killed to have somefin' this nice." he almost whispers. "Should've brought this out for Shabbat! It's beautiful!" he says enthusiastically. He sits it down delicately. You see his head tilt, and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. "These...these are some of the most beautiful pieces I've seen in years, Genevieve." the true astonishment in his face is both heartwarming and terrifying. You're waiting for him to finish that puzzle he'd been working on in his head.

You move to kneel next to him, not very far away. You felt you should be close for this part.

He pulls out the brilliant Seder plate, hand painted in Hebrew and so intricately decorated just the same. His brow furrows, you see his chin push back as you wait.

"This one has always been my favorite." you say quietly, picking up the shining gold and bejeweled Menorah with two hands, setting it in your lap. The gold shone bright and the intricately carved details decorate the base, hand painted sections in different colors all over, everything about it stunning.

"That looks like something straight from Jerusalem." he says with envy.

"That's where my uncle said it was from." you nod, still not meeting his eyes.

You see him blink fast, his eyes darting from the three pieces. "You said...your mother sent you these?"

"Yes." is all you can manage.

"These were...your mothers?"

"Her family's yes." you nod, the tightness in your chest making tears want to form in your eyes.

"Your mother's..." his head jerks suddenly tilting to the side. "Jewish?" with the spoken word his eyes meet yours.

"Yes." you whisper, he sees your breath picking up, you gulp nervously.

"That means you are..."

"Jewish." your mouth hangs open slightly, your eyes full of fear for what he'll say or do next.

He sets the plate on the floor, afraid he'll drop it. "You're Jewish?" his face is unreadable except for the shock, and perhaps that's all that was there.

"Yeah." you squeak out, setting the Menorah back into the trunk, then the plate and scooting closer to him. "My father...when he married my mum he made her convert. At least publically. He made her hide it, and hid it from her children."

"He...what?" you can feel the anger raising from deep in his chest.

"He only married her because he was in debt and needed her family's support and he only got that through blackmail on my grandfather. He told her after she'd agreed to marry him as a business truce that he wouldn't allow her to speak of her heritage."

"He fucking what?" the rage was clear now as he met your eyes.

"It was a sham marriage on all accounts. I only found out as a child because I was hiding and overheard their arguing about it. Otherwise, I don't know that I would've ever found out."

He reaches out and takes your hand. "You've been hiding this your whole life?"

"I had to. He threatened me if I didn't. I tried to confront him but he..." you stop yourself.

"He what?" his deep and threatening tone was back.

"I stood up to him, I did I-" he sees the desperation the memory holds in your eyes.

"What'd he do Genevieve?"

"Well, he... he struck me-" Alfie let's out a growl. "He told me he wouldn't let me see my mother's family ever again, lest they corrupt me. Said he'd send me to a Catholic boarding school for girls and I'd never see any of my family again." you lower your eyes, the shame burning your cheeks.

He lifts your chin to look at him. "You did nothing wrong." he says and the hot sting of tears happens so fast.

"I know that now." you rasp out.

He takes you by surprise, the pain in his chest for someone having oppressed your heritage burns through him as he takes you in his arms. "I'm so sorry you had to deal with that monster," he whispers. You nod and let yourself rest against him. "You were so hesitant about people knowing we were working together...or even sleeping together..." he shakes his head. Things were falling into place. "You were afraid he'd come after you." he moves you away, fingers on your chin.

"We aren't meant to have anything to do with other Jews." you sniffle. "Could cause too many questions." you whisper. "That's always been the agreement."

"That's what he meant in the letter." he feels a flash of anger, then a flash of deep, deep guilt. You'd risked working with him, being with him despite the possible consequences. Every time you'd gone out in public with him you'd been putting yourself in danger. He feels sick to his stomach. Was he who was really responsible for your father cutting you off from your family for good? He thinks he might be ill at the thought he had anything to do with that pain. "Fuck is this...I did this." he says, his hand dropping from your face. "I'm the reason he sent that letter, Gen....I-"

"It was all my decision. You didn't know. How could you?" your face is even more distraught as his falls, eyes looking absolutely gutted. "YOU did nothing wrong, Alfie. Don't let him make you think that too. This is all on him. We're just living our lives and he's the one that's trying to play God with people." Saying it to someone else felt so cathartic. It made it real, like you were also saying it to yourself. "I..." you feel the first tears start to fall. "I wanted to tell you so badly." and the confession makes your face hurt as you tense it to keep yourself together.

"Oh come now, Genny." he coos, holding you again. "I understand why you couldn't."

"I just can't hide anymore. I can't lie to you anymore." your voice is so weak it hurts his ears. The thought that you were thinking of him amidst something as epic as this for you emotionally started to mix with the guilt and make him start to hate himself. "It's such a big part of who you are and it is for me too but I couldn't express that to you before now and it's..." you let out a small hiccup noise you were so upset.

"Shhh..." he says, hands stroking your back and hair. "Don't upset yourself, luv. I'm not mad at you." you had needed to hear that. You'd been so afraid he'd hate you for lying to him. His identity was so fused with the fact that he was Jewish that you were afraid he'd shun you for denying it.

He was actually extremely proud of you. Standing up to a lifetime of abuse to an absolute horror of a human. A father was supposed to love and cherish a daughter, not do what he did to you. He wasn't mad, but as he held you, as the silence fell and his mind calmed, the many pieces fitting together in his mind, his stomach churned for a new reason.

Oh, fuck you were Jewish. He thought to himself. This created a new problem for him, a rift creating, heartbreaking problem. Being who he was, a man who held Jewish women in such high regard and a man he didn't think was worthy of a Jewish woman...where did that leave the two of you? He'd promised himself long ago that he wouldn't go near Jewish women but here he was, the only woman he'd ever felt this close to, and literally, your hearts pressed together this very second. The things he'd done to you, and dear God the things he'd said. His face winces at the thought. He was nothing but a fucking sodomite holding an angel in his arms he was certain.

The realization hits him like a grenade landed too close to him during the war, his vision quaking, his ears ringing. That thought that had sat in the back of his mind since you'd walked into his office that day that you were too good to be true, was, in fact, coming to fruition. He wasn't worthy of you. He never had been. He never would be. He couldn't be with you.

Pt. 46 Fortuna

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this@shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou 

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 3X13 - Witch Hunt

Hey! What’s Zelena’s favorite food?

A sand-WITCH, of course!

...Got it. Shutting up. Review’s below. Read it, bitches.

Press Release

Emma arrives in Storybrooke with Henry and reunites with her friends and family, only to discover that no one remembers how they were transported back - or the past year they had spent back in Fairy Tale Land. But Emma is sure that someone in town is responsible for this new curse and teams up with Regina in an attempt to uncover their identity. Meanwhile, in the Fairy Tale Land that was during the past year, Regina, with the aid of Robin Hood, attempts to break into her castle, which has been overtaken by the Wicked Witch.

Main Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness

Past

Regina and Zelena’s first meeting is just straight-up iconic! The buildup to it is incredible, with little hints scattered all around the episode that the two are related and that Zelena’s power is a completely different horse than Regina’s, even down to the color. But there’s this sense of relation because of how sassy the two of them are.

“Despite my shortcomings, I’ve made something of myself.” This whole scene perfectly characterizes Zelena. Regina has been a force of antagonism for a lot of people, but no one has had the strength to truly do something about it. The most that could be done is a level of subduing her or having Henry tame her. But now, an interesting balance was struck. Zelena is more powerful than Regina and puts her on the prowl with that sense of antagonism BUT there’s also another layer to it. She allows for the integrity of Regina’s character development to stay intact. Because her beef is with something Cora did and pointed at Regina for superficial reasons -- that of being born (And holy crap, I just noticed a parallel between this and the Daniel incident and that’s a topic for another day), Regina is still able to be a hero without coming across as torturing someone she already hurt. Mix this in with that gorgeous green all over Rebecca Mader’s body and various pieces of iconography and you have something truly cool!

Present

I really like the handling of the confusion and paranoia throughout the town.

Leroy (The embodiment of the town’s voice at large) as well as the rest of the “rabble” blaming Regina make a lot of sense to me. As I pointed out last time, while our mains have bonded with Regina and understand the depth of her love for Henry, the rest of the town hasn’t had those experiences. They’ve just seen her as the woman who cursed the kingdom and threatened them at nearly every public appearance she’s ever made. And seeing Emma and Regina aware of that and using it to their advantage was utterly fantastic! It’s a really methodical approach that speaks to how self aware they’ve become.

It’s such a clever plan too! The only thing that holds it back from being a straight-up success is their lack of knowledge about Regina and Zelena’s relation. And seeing everything play out is satisfying!

Insights - Stream of Consciousness

-Wicked always WIIIIIIIINNNNNNSSSSSSS!

-”A family could live on what this is worth. And she just left it all behind.” That begs the question: DID she leave that stuff behind? I mean, Regina dressed very differently in Storybrooke than she did in the Enchanted Forest, but why leave the jewels?!

-I like how Zelena uses magic for all the things that a normal person would use it for. Getting dressed is a pain? Use fucking magic for it!

-ROLAND! The precious baby!!!

-”I’m ALWAYS thinking about Henry.” Awwwwww!!!

-Go Mama Mills! Monkey’s flying at an adorable kid and Regina swoops in and saves him! Noice!

-Damn, Regina! That is a high quality toy you made!

-I love how whether they read the story or not, everyone just KNOWS that Snow can talk to birds.

-”Smart money’s on yes.” Why yell at him Snow? He’s not wrong! Pessimistic, maybe, but that’s literally in his fucking name!

-”He’ll show up Swan. He always does.” I really wish this line was said in good faith, but Killian’s eye roll makes me think it’s ship war nonsense. Dude! Neverland’s over! Let’s be done with the machismo!

-”The bookworm’s right.” Look at that little side eye.

-”Oz? That place is real?” Aww! Cute Snow/Emma parallel for later when she discovers the Wicked Witch is real.

-”We we cell mates.” Ginny’s freakin’ tone during that exchange! Yes, you, Mary Margaret, in your most preppy-prep school voice and manner, were definitely in a cell! XD

-Dude! That Regal Believer exchange was just the saddest thing in the world! Regian can hardly move, so much so that Emma basically has to usher her out to not cause even more of a scene.

-As a side note, I love Regina’s Storybrooke outfit in this episode!

-Emma and Regina’s exchange in Granny’s alcove is just so amazing! Emma’s not without her reasons to distrust Regina and makes that clear and Regina’s aware enough of that but not without reservations of her own to Emma’s accusatory nature.

-How much you want to bet Granny recommended the crossbow to Little John?!

-Okay, so I am a total carnivore and I laughed my ass off when that arrow missed! XD

-I love how Rebecca Mader is dressed so down that a shot and a music swell is needed to show off who she is.

-”Who knew an Evil Queen had a soft spot for children?” You pressed the Henry button, Robin. You shouldn’t have done that.

-”I may have done bad things in my life, but at least I own it.” Regina, NONE of that works the way you think it does. For one thing, a good portion of your time prior to the curse (As well as after it), you denied you were the Evil Queen. For another, admitting you’re bad doesn’t do anything to lessen the effects of the bad things you do. Regina, Reggie-kins! You were doing so well!

-”I inadvertently put her in harm’s way during a job.” I love how freakin’ vague this line is. Like, I feel like there was a “Murder Most Foul”-esque red herring twist -- even more so than the one we got -- that would gel with a Robin flashback (Which was desperately needed).

-I love how this is framed as Henry not being himself because he’s not reacting to baby stuff, but he’s a freakin’ kid! I’d be telling her to buzz off as well!

-”Baby’s are stronger than you think.” Did you enjoy that double entendre, Jane? XD Because I did!

-I like how magic has a scientific element to it occasionally. For just as much as it’s a matter of talent or an ability by birth, magic can be learned and some of the strongest practitioners got to where they are by studying their asses off. There’s a diversity to it that reflects the diversity of skills.

-”I know just who to tell.” Yes, Regina!!! You told the embodiment of the town at large!!! Awesome decision!

-Nurse! Stick the fucking syringe in Little John! Yeah, he’s acting weird, but he’s not attacking just yet, so get a move on!

-”I’m a doctor, not a vet.” We REALLY need to get a magical vet on staff. I feel like Storybrooke has way too many animal problems to not have one.

-I love Regina and Emma’s conversation about stakeouts! It���s so subdued and domestic and FUNNY! XD

-Aww! Henry has friends! I wonder if said friends are wondering what the hell happened to Henry. Like, are there fics akin to “Stand By Me” where his friend group goes looking for him? Does Henry still text them? There’s a fucking story here!

-“Enough with the martyr complex, Regina. Try growing up without a mother.” ...She has a twinge of a point there, Regina.

-”They’re both dead.” I love how Rebecca Mader plays off learning that information. Like, her facial expressions there are divine!

-Has anyone ever written a fic where Zelena DID make the time traveling spell and used it on her terms?

-”Someone to destroy.” OMFG! Lana’s face! I fucking love it!

-”Why’d she tell you all of this?” Dude, she said two pieces of info that are the most general topics in the world when dealing with kids.

-”Maybe we can stop for ice cream.” BAD IDEA!

-”He took on simian form with the added bonus of wings.” A touch redundant, Killian.

-”Seriously? She’s real too?” I love that adorably innocent way that line is given! It’s so cute!

-OMG! I love the Rumple reveal! First, we see some straw. Then we see a male’s hand. Finally, we see his rugged and haggard face! That was so small, but so good!

-Rumple’s poor floof! It’s all gross!

-Rumple’s cage outfit looks more Weaver than Rumple! XD

-Okay, seeing Rumple not in makeup and acting crazy may quite possibly be the scariest thing in this series!

Arcs - How Are These Storylines Progressing?

The Wicked Witch - Damn! Rebecca Mader plays Zelena playing a midwife flawlessly! It’s up there with Pan as just amazing! Also, Zelena is freakin’ clever as hell! She takes full advantage of her knowledge of the people of Storybrooke to get exactly what she needs. And as I mentioned before, the flashback scenes perfectly characterize her. She’s sinister, has greater depth to her, and is just so cool! And speaking of cool, while the player (Zelena) is revealed to the audience, there’s a great element of mystery still going on, keeping the season from just feeling like a waiting game. Why is everyone being turned into monkeys vampire-style? What happened during that year? Who knows!

Regina’s Redemption - Like with the past few episodes, I really enjoy Regina’s character development. We’re starting to enter the payoff stage of her redemption as she further grows on better terms with everyone and protecting not just herself and Henry, but others too.

Killian’s Redemption - “Is he alive?” I love the way that Killian’s eyes just show that it’s something he’s genuinely concerned about. Absent is the snarkier, less mature version of himself and here, we have a Killian who recognizes that a good person’s life is in jeopardy and genuinely just doesn’t want him to be dead.

Favorite Dynamic

Regina and Emma. Who fucking else? The friendliness between these two set up by Regina’s fake memories and her means of stopping the curse perfectly allows for the niceness between the two of them to fit like a glove! It’s not full on best friend niceness, but it’s a niceness that reflects what they did for each other in “Coming Home” and reflects well on their history.

Writer

Here we have Jane Espenson flying solo as the writer of this episode! She did a fantastic job. The stories throughout the segments are very simple, but the complexity is allowed to shine through the intricacies of the characters. The dialogue and thought processes of everyone are exceptionally well handled and there’s a lot of comedy that just works so well!

Rating

Golden Apple. While I normally reserve a Golden Apple for something with a bit more of a thematic resonance, the execution of the stories here is so good that it doesn’t need a theme in that way. The story and writing are exceptionally good here, playing it simple, but smart and allowing the nuances to speak for themselves. There’s a lot of great elements and great and iconic moments here. It’s a fun step on the journey of this new arc.

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness”

Swan Fire - For all of the worrying that Neal does for Emma, it’s really heartwarming to see how much she worries about him!

Outlaw Queen - I feel like for purposes of full disclosure, I should preface this by saying that I’m not a super strong Outlaw Queen shipper. That said, I want to like them (As I want to like all things), and I’m really liking them in 3B (I liked them the first time around in my initial watch of 3B too)! Lana and Sean have good chemistry and the writing gives them a nice bit of banter. You get the feeling that while they don’t despise each other, they’re not on good terms and that trust has to build between them. And because this is early on in Robin’s existence, he’s allowed to be a simpler character. The love story between them starts out simple and to the point, allowing for it to be a great romance story.

Swan Queen - You really see the developed faith and trust between Emma and Regina and it’s so nice to see them being much more open with each other. Look at their dialogue in the office and how honest and kind they are to each other and it’s night-and-day compared to Season 1, but so well built! And look at those gentle smiles! It’s so sweet!! The payoff here is just so good!

-----

I’m so glad I was able to get more in-depth about this episode! Thank you all for reading and to those fabulous folks at @watchingfairytales!

Next time, we’ll see another looming presence that towers over our heroes. ;)

Season 3 Total (126/220)

Writer’s Scores: Adam and Eddy (39/60) Kalinda Vazquez (17/40) Andrew Chambliss (27/50) Jane Espenson (20/30) David Goodman (20/40) Robert Hull (20/40) Christine Boylan (20/20)* Daniel Thomsen (20/30) * Indicates that their work for the season is complete

Operation Rewatch Archives

[tmsbrainrot]

Heartbeat

Summary: If there is one thing immortality has taught you it’s this: don’t get attached to humans. You learnt this lesson the hard way. Thirty years after the incident you are pulled out of your self-inflicted isolation by an old friend. He encourages you to return to civilisation and you grudgingly agree. However, you remain adamant that you will never again associate with the living. Fifty years pass and, despite your friendship with the city’s ruling clan, you often find yourself wandering gloomily through the streets, unsatisfied with your current state of existence. That is until you meet him; the first human you have seen in over eighty years.

Genre: Vampire!AU

WARNINGS: Violence

Word count: 1,983

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | ?

————————

Stars studded the vast canvas of the night sky like jewels embellishing a simple black dress. Light from the full moon illuminated the street, casting a pale glow over cramped brick houses and filth-covered cobblestones. Wooden shutters decorated each window and heavy wooden doors stood fixed in the wall, providing the fragile beings inside with a sense of security. You could hear the heartbeats of those residing within as clearly as a dog hears a whistle. Every breath was a shout, every movement a gunshot. Focusing your hearing for too long often caused you to become overwhelmed, so you tuned out the sounds of the living and continued walking.

50 years ago you had moved to this city at the request of an old friend. ‘Request’ was a polite way of phrasing it. Truthfully he had bugged the hell out of you until you finally agreed to end your period of isolation and join him in the city. Had he not been a member of the city’s ruling vampire clan you would have never even considered living in an area populated by humans, however he had assured you that his clan enforced a strict curfew and that no living soul would dare wander the streets after midnight. And so you had allowed yourself to be persuaded. He had also used his incredible powers of persuasion to convince his leader that you -- a solitary vampire -- should take up residence in the clan’s manor; no easy feat considering the millennia of animosity between the majority of solitary vampires and those sworn into clans.

It was the belief of the majority of solitary vampires that humans were nothing more than a food source; they held no compassion for the species they used to be a part of and felt no reason to hide their monstrous nature. Ages ago, tales of solitaries massacring entire populations spread like wildfire. Within the span of a few years the entire vampire species was at risk of exposure.

Vampires that had been coexisting alongside humans began to fear the possibility of being discovered. Humans have always had a reputation for destroying that which they don’t understand, and when fuelled by fear their destructive power increases tenfold. Knowing this, the vampires decided to take action against their own kind.

The first clan was formed with the sole purpose of maintaining peace between the supernatural and the human race. This involved protecting civilisations from roving solitaries. Over time, all but a few humans forgot the gruesome tales of mutilated bodies and the mysterious disappearances of certain populations. Vampires were hidden once again.

However, old stereotypes remain. Generally speaking, clan vampires still view solitary vampires as barbarians; animals unable to control their primal urges. Solitary vampires see clan members as soft and sentimental, mockingly calling them humanity’s guard dogs. Of course, there are exceptions; clans that actively hunt humans, as well as solitaries that see humans as more than walking blood bags. You are one of these exceptions.

Since the beginning of your immortal life you have remained solitary -- not because of a contempt for human life, but because of your hatred for being controlled. you have always been too headstrong to live under the rule of another, therefore you turned down every offer you received from various clans across the country. And, thanks to your reputation, there were many.

See, you weren’t just a solitary vampire that respected human life, you were a solitary vampire that protected human life. Whether it was a murderous vampire or a less-than-human human, when it came to the people in your village you did not discriminate. Your deadly wrath earned you the title of an avenging angel, and for centuries no-one dared oppose you. Your people worshipped their guardian, regularly leaving chickens, goats, and sheep as offerings in the village square. This allowed you to feed without harming a single human being.

You were happy.

Then, nearly eight decades ago, everything changed.

It began slowly. One of the villagers would go missing; vanishing in the dead of night, their family not hearing a sound. The next morning their body would be found, drained of blood with two holes in their neck. You investigated but could not find any evidence of a solitary vampire in the area. You increased your vigilance; spending every night patrolling the streets of your beloved village, only stopping to feed when the thirst became unbearable.

By the time the tenth body was found the word ‘vampire’ was on the lips of every villager. They discussed the attacks in hushed whispers, terror clear in their voice. “Why is our Angel not stopping this?” “Where is our Angel?” “Why has our Angel abandoned us?”

These whispers pierced your eardrums, each word as painful as a physical blow. You longed to call out to them and reassure them that you had not abandoned them, to say that you are tirelessly searching for the one responsible. But you could not. By revealing your identity you would risk being exposed as a member of the undead. As a monster. You could not take that risk, especially with the entire village convinced that a vampire was responsible for the deaths of their friends and family. So you stayed silent; pacing around your cellar; waiting for the sun to sink under the horizon; vowing to inflict terrible pain upon the one preying on your people.

Two nights later, you found him.

He was stood in the village square, a child in his arms. You had smelt the child’s fear; the sour odour acting as a homing beacon, leading you straight to him. Seeing one of your children in the arms of a cold-blooded killer made your stomach roll. The sickening smile on his face displayed his unnaturally long canines in all their glory, and you felt the tell-tale itch indicating that yours wished to do the same. You fought the urge. You didn’t want the child to see any similarity between her captor and her rescuer.

“Release the child immediately,” you commanded, your voice low so as not to wake the villagers.

The vampire smiled wider. “No,” he replied.

You took a step closer, hands clenched into fists. “Release the child, or your death will be slow and excruciatingly painful.”

He pretended to think for a moment, then shook his head. “No.”

The temptation to sink your teeth into his neck and tear off his head was overwhelming, but you knew that would not be a wise decision. “Do you not know where you are? Who you are threatening? This village and its people are protected. To threaten those in this village is to sign your death warrant.”

“How frightening,” the vampire drawled.

Your temper flared. Your mouth twisted into a snarl and you took several steps forward. A soft whimper from the child stopped you in your tracks. Her blue eyes were opened wide, focused on the fangs clearly visible next to your incisors. Guiltily you closed your mouth, hiding them from view.

Booming laughter echoed through the square. Your eyes narrowed as you watched the vampire shake with mirth, his arms remaining tight around the child. “This is the great solitary vampire the others are so afraid of? Surely this is a joke. How are you supposed to protect anyone when you can’t even unleash your true nature?”

“What would you know of my true nature?” you demanded.

“Enough to be able to lure you into a trap, it would seem.”

Before you could react you were surrounded by four more vampires. I don’t understand, you thought, shocked. How did I not sense a clan in the area?

“You’ve become too comfortable in your little bubble-- you’ve lost your touch. I was able to bring my clan into your territory weeks ago and have avoided detection since. I must say, I’m disappointed. I expected more from you.”

His words had a greater effect on you than you cared to admit. You felt defeated, lost, and most of all, guilty. The people in this village trusted you, relied on you, and you had failed them. You had allowed a pack of wolves into your home, and now your family was paying the price.

“Nothing to say?” the clan leader asked. “No pleas for mercy? No begging to save the lives of your precious humans?”

You stayed silent, staring at the ground.

“What a pity.” He gestured to one of his members, a female with short blonde hair.

She nodded, walking up to you and pulling a small wooden stake out of her jacket pocket. When she was almost within arms reach she paused. You didn’t show any signs of movement. You didn’t even seem to have noticed her presence. Confidence boosted, she continued until she was stood directly behind you. The arm holding the stake rose, coming to a stop once its pointed tip was level with your heart. She looked to her leader for confirmation. He nodded.

Quicker than the human eye could follow you turned, catching her wrist before she could plunge the stake into your heart. Her eyes widened and you allowed yourself a moment of satisfaction before ripping the stake out of her grasp and ramming it into her chest. The expression of shock froze on her face as her body solidified, turning completely grey. You removed the stake and she crumbled into ash at your feet.

The atmosphere instantly changed. You felt multiple pairs of eyes on you as you turned back to face the clan leader, stake held loosely by your side.

He was grinning. “There we go! I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

You regarded him coldly. “This is your last chance. Release the child. Now.”

He glanced at the stake in your hand and his grin faltered slightly. “Alright, I’ll release the child.” He placed her on the ground, holding onto her arms for a moment. He looked into her eyes. “Run along home, now. Make sure you tell your mummy and daddy what happened here tonight.” He released her arms and the child bolted, the sound of her terrified sobs fading as you focused your attention on the vampire in front of you.

Now that the child was out of sight you allowed your vampire appearance to take hold. Your canines extended fully and your irises turned blood-red. Your senses sharpened and you felt your awareness heighten. Every detail of the scene before you was laid out in high definition. You caught the subtle twitch in the leader’s finger; heard the brush of fabric as one of his members lent forward, preparing to run at you.

Without shifting your gaze you flicked your wrist in the direction of the member. A grunt of pain followed by the sound of a stake falling to the ground told you that your aim was true. You were rewarded by a tightness appearing in the skin around the leader’s eyes. He was worried.

“You’re running out of members,” you pointed out conversationally.

He smiled but it was strained. “I may have overestimated their abilities,” he admitted.

“Or underestimated mine.”

“Yes,” he conceded, “I may have underestimated you. But then again,” he cocked his head to the side, smile suddenly genuine, “we all make mistakes.”

A scream rent the air, followed closely by a second, then a third. You whirled towards the sound, the fine hairs on your arms raised and an icy feeling trickling down your spine. You moved to run towards the screams but found your path blocked by the two remaining vampire lackeys. Another scream pierced the night. Terrified shouts could be heard spreading throughout the village as the people awoke to panic. A thick, sweet scent hung on the breeze...

The same scent you could now smell, 80 years later, in a city miles away from the village you cared for so deeply.

The scent of blood.

————————

A.N.: first part of the first jongin fic and jongin isnt even in it yet lol i didnt intend for the first part to be so long-winded but i had to set everything up and im a sucker for backstory... i know this is super cliche and everything but i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! i’m working on part 2 so the next update shouldnt be too far away~

[geekydice]

Dead By Daylight Fan-made DLC: Royal Blood

Introducing: “The Usurper” A Fan Made Killer for DBD

Name: Lyra Tenebris

Age: 40

Difficulty: Hard

Ethnicity: Romanian

Realm: Romanesque Castle, Romania

Weapon: Bladed Scepter

Speed: 100%

Terror Radius: 32 meters

Lore: Lyra Tenebris was the true heir to the dukedom, or so she believed. Her mother worked as a maid for Duke Marius Romanesque. She wasn’t very good at her job and had a sense of entitlement which she passed on to her daughter. The Duke’s alleged Bastard. She was a social climber who had a pregnancy out of wedlock and decided to claim the duke as the father, hoping that he would leave his wife for her or at least become a mistress. She could remove the wife later. Sadly it was not to be and she was still stuck as a maid albeit on a very tight leash. When her daughter was born she decided that she would help her rise to power telling young Lyra that her father was the Duke and as such she was royalty and that they were in hiding as staff to protect them for those who would harm them. Lyra beloved every word her mother had said and tried to learn to become royalty. After all she was the only heir. Until IT came. Sophia Romanesque. The Duke’s other daughter and claimed rightful heir. Lyra was angry. She was older she should have been the heir. Nope. She was stuck as the brat’s maid. She asked her mother for an ideas and was advised to be their friend. That way she would learn all the things the child would be taught and look for ways to arrange accidents without suspicion.

So Lyra took the task to heart, learning all she could and trying to off her competition. She was unable to kill her but due to her diligence in watching the heiress she began to gain some popularity among the court. Seeing that she was getting supporters she began to spread that she was the duke’s bastard and should be the rightful heir. She also informed others not to tell the girl as she didn’t need the stress. For a time her plan worked. She spread doubt among the court and gathered some supporters as well as some money. It’s not a crime, it’s rightfully hers. However the duke still refused to acknowledge their relation. So she decided to gain her birth certificate to show him. They can’t deny it then. What she saw them she was shocked.

She wasn’t related to him at all. Her life was a lie. She couldn’t believe it. The documents had to be faked. She is the rightful heir and she will not be stopped. That’s when she found a mysterious card was addressed to her. It said she could be the ruler with their help she just had to meet them. She agreed and  met with them. They said that they were a group that protects the royal family and because she was a “part” of the royal family they would give her the throne. They just needed a few concessions for their work. She agreed and together they started a coup, murdering everyone in the castle except there supporters and the princess who had managed to escape. No matter she will be taken care of soon enough. She has a kingdom to rule.

She was a Tyrant hated by the people but too feared to be taken out. She published books that showed her as a lovely Duchess and executed anyone who said anywise. The people lost their livelihoods to her tributes and spending. All hope was lost until the rebels appeared. Claiming to have the Rightful Princess Sophia inspired hope to fight against the Tyrant Tenebris. She would not have it. She sent out her agents to destroy the rebels and capture Sophia. The public would no longer defy here when their precious little princess is hung from the gallows. However it was not as easy as it should be. Captured rebels would die before giving up important information and the population was begin to revolt. She was the Duchess they should not be defying her. It’s all Sophia’s fault. If she would just come out of hiding and die like she was supposed to then this wouldn’t be happening. She just needed to find her. While she was fuming to herself in her castle a strange being appeared planting visions of hooks into her mind. Hooks she could hang Sophia from and any others who defied her. The strange being beckoned her forward with each step implanting more vision and power into Lyra who eagerly accepted. Long Live the Entity. Long Live Duchess Lyra Tenebris.

Lyra Tenebris is medium height with pale skin and a dancer’s build. She has dark green eyes and long black hair in an elegant low bun. She has dark red lipstick on and a light pink blush. She wears a red Tudor dress with mysterious dark splotches and black heals hidden under her dress. She wears a garish gold crown with an emerald necklace around her neck and carries a bloody bladed gold scepter in her hand.

The Usurper’s Power: Hired Help

You can’t do everything yourself.

Using the alternate action key will cause the Usurper to summon shadow beings to do her bidding. These shadow being each have their own terror radius and will search for survivors screaming when they find one to alert the killer. The effect last for 30 seconds with a 15 second cool down period.

Mori (Killer PoV) - (First person camera) You stand above the dying survivor, looking down on them as you hold your scepter like a croquet mallet and swiftly aim at their head. You laugh as they scream and continue until they become quiet. You turn the scepter so the blade is pointing down towards the survivor and slice their head of. You flick away the blood and spit on the corpse.

Mori (Survivor PoV) - (Worms Eye View) The Usurper will stand above the dying survivor, looking down of them as he hits their head with their scepter like a mallet. Their harrowing laugh mixing with your screams with each blow. When you go quiet the scepter’s blade comes down and you know no more.

Her personal perks, Tyrant, Revision and Hex: Tribute allow her to gain special bonuses to hunt down any who dares to threaten her reign.

Tyrant - You have to be strong and ruthless to destroy anyone who tries to oppose you. The usurper’s terror radius will increase by 10 meters and all nearby survivors actions will slow by 10%.

“My Word is law.”

Unique to The Usurper until Level 30, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Killers

Revision- History is told by the Victors. When you use a melee attack on a survivor you inflict the oblivious status ailment on them.

“I am a noble, kind-hearted queen who prevented that little bitch from taking the throne and have driven this kingdom into prosperity. Now write that down and make sure everyone knows it by heart.”

Unique to The Usurper until Level 35, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Killers

Hex: Tribute - Its only fair your subjects reward you for all you’ve done for them.

A Hex rooting its power in greed and forced devotion. Each time a totem is destroyed get a token. 2 Tokens: Increase speed by 10%. 3 Tokens: Cool Down is reduced by 5%. 4 Tokens: Survivors gain the Broken Ailment. 5 Tokens; Survivors gain the Deep Wounds ailment.

“If I want that you will give it to me; or else i’ll take it from your grave.”

”Unique to The Usurper until Level 40, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Killers

Example Addons:

Common:

Crown - The symbol of royalty. It looks great on you. Increase your speed by 5% for a short period (15 seconds).

“One day it will be yours”

Gold Coin - It’s not much but it’s yours. Slightly decrease the stun duration if a survivor escapes your power. (1 second)

Uncommon:

Fancy Gown- A beautiful gown befitting your status. Forget about its previous owner. Slightly decrease the skill check size of your power for survivors. (10%)

Calling Card- A card from a group that wants to help you. Your powers’ charge decreases by .25 seconds.

Rare:

Maid Uniform - Your mother used to wear this. Your power lasts longer. Any boosts you have are further increased by 5%.

“Mommy if i’m the daughter of the duke why are you a maid instead of a noble?.”

Jewelry Box- A small box filled jewels. It’s no less than what you deserve. Skills check speed is rescued for you by 15%. Skill check speed for survivors are increased by 25%.

Very Rare:

Propaganda Poster- A poster made by the rebels to inspire a revolt against you. Increases your terror radius by 7 meters.

Ultra Rare:

Birth Certificate - A birth certificate that disproves everything you believe to be true. You want to destroy it but can’t bring yourself to do so.  Choose a random survior. That survivor becomes your obsession. Whenever your obsession performs an action their skill check speed is decreased by 5/10/15%. If they fail their action their speed is decreased by 15/20/25% for all repair, healing and sabotage actions.

“It holds the truth.”

Royal Portrait - A portrait you had commissioned once you took the throne. It’s a tradition of the Romanesque family. The memories of your journey fill you with tremendous potential. Your actions no longer involve skill checks and survivors automatically take 1 stage of damage when successfully grabbed.

“Hang it in the hall with the rest of my families.”

Introducing: Sophia Romanesque  

DLC: Royal Blood

Gender: Female

Age: 25

Role: Rightful Heir

Ethnicity: Romanian

Difficulty: Intermediate

Sophia Romanesque never imagined her life would turn out like this. Hiding in the shadows of the kingdom she was supposed to rule, helping the resistance against her alleged half-sister and keeping out of sight in order to live to see another day. When she was young she wanted for nothing but always put others first like it had been ingrained in her since childhood. That’s probably why she kept around her former personal servant who constantly tried to kill her. She knew she shouldn’t but she was always told to help others even at her own expense so she was nice and kind to her. No longer. Her loyalty is to the rebellion and all those who would see the usurper overthrown, and today should be the day. She wandered around the empty corridors she had used to traverse, headed toward the throne room and where her target lied but the corridors seemed to twist and turn with every step she took, but she would not let this deter her. Too many people counted on her killing the usurper for her to give up due to some vertigo and flashing lights. She kept traveling even as the corridors seemed to end and trees began to emerge. She saw a campfire in the distance and kept going. Maybe whoever is there can help her.

Sophia’s perks, Keep to the Shadows, Nobility, and For My people help her escape the wrath of the false ruler.

Keep to the Shadows - You’ll always be safe in the shadows. When crouching  the killer’s aura reading abilities towards you are disrupted. If you stop crouching the perk ends.

“The shadows will protect me.”

Unique to Sophia Romanesque until Level 30, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Survivors

Nobility - Nobility is not just a title. When you assist another survivor their aura becomes hidden for 4/5/6 seconds.

“A noble must always act noble, remember that Sophia.”

Unique to Sophia Romanesque until Level 35, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Survivors

For My People - If it means they’ll live i don’t care if I don’t. If you are near a survivor and struck by the killer you become the killers obsession. Once the killer’s obsession your speed and healing is increased by 10%.

“My People need me and I shall not fail them.”

Unique to Sophia Romanesque until Level 40, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Survivors

Sophia Romanesque is tall and fragile with pale skin. She has dark hazel eyes and choppy short brown hair. She wears skin-tight black tights, worn brown boots and a loose midnight blue blouse. She wears a dark grey scarf around her neck.

[druidkitty]

Rumple’s Dark Castle Chapter 28

Read the entire work here

            That night Belle had a very difficult time sleeping, something that wasn’t foreign to her, but this time the reasons were twofold.  First, every time she closed her eyes she saw either the ogres or the blob creatures.  Second, she was terrified about this ridiculous errand Rumple was sending her on.  There was no way she could ever pass as his sister.  They did not look anything alike.  Rumple had assured her that if they questioned it at all she just had to plead adoption.   Yet, these were powerful men and women-some magical folk.  Wouldn’t they be able to tell if she was lying or not?  And not to mention she would be lying to THE KING.  Couldn’t she be locked away for such a crime? 

            Rumplestiltskin didn’t seem to think so.  He seemed fairly confident in this whole thing as if it was the best plan he had ever concocted.  Maybe it was.  Then again he was the one who also had thought it was a good idea to lock his son in some sort of time prison to keep Bae safe.  His intentions were good-in that case at least-but he really needed to set his priorities straight. 

Rumplestiltskin needed to understand that this mission was the absolute most ridiculous thing to do.  Yet, she knew she was still going to do it.  She would do it for him because she cared for him and she cared for Baelfire.  It probably wouldn’t work, but it was worth a shot.  At least she wouldn’t be lying when she did call him a coward.  In her heart she believed him to be brave, and she knew she would still try to alter his decision to go through with this and would most likely be unsuccessful.  But having her go to the palace on his behalf was a very cowardly thing to do.  Yet, if the King did seize Rumple and his son, what would she have left?  Absolutely nothing. 

            All these weeks in the Dark Castle, all these weeks hoping she would heal and yet still not one memory had returned to her.  It was hopeless, just like getting a good night’s rest.  It didn’t help that every little sound or movement caused her to cringe, to recall what had happened earlier that day.  But Rumplestiltskin had assured her over and over again: no one or nothing could get in the castle.  So then why was he so terrified of the Blue Fairy or the King?  If nothing could get in then that included those two as well didn’t it?  She supposed he didn’t want to be locked up forever, but really nothing made sense because Rumple only seemed to tell her half of what was going, if that much.

             Eventually, she did drift off, somehow managing to get a couple hours of sleep before Rumple had Lumiere woke her at the break of dawn to have her dressed and ready to go on this foolish chore. 

            “What will you be disguised as?” Belle asked Rumple as she wrapped a warm wool shawl around her shoulders, preparing herself for this outing. 

            “That, I haven’t decided!”  Rumple replied with a squeal as if this was a joking matter.  He took a sip of his tea as he sat and watched her carefully.

            Belle rolled her eyes and slipped her shoes on.  “Then how shall I know it’s you?”

            “Oh you’ll know it’s me my dear, it will be quite obvious.”

            It was so impossible to get a straight answer out of that man.  “And what if I’m discovered as a fraud?”

            “You let me worry about that.”

            Of course that was his answer.  She should have known.  She flashed him a fleeting scolding look, reprimanding him for basically sending her into this blind without any clue of what to do except somehow to miraculously convince this Fairy to release him from whatever hold she has on him. 

            The little wheel clicked by the door turning to the color indicating she was going to the capitol, going to the Palace that housed the royals. 

            Belle walked down the couple of steps and reached out for the doorknob, but it was then she froze.  Scenes flashed before her eyes.  Horrifying scenes of ogres and the black blobs.  All she could imagine when she stepped out that door was one of those monsters waiting to pounce, grabbing her and ripping her to little pieces and feasting on her flesh.  It was the most gruesome thing she could imagine, but after seeing what happened to the people of Avonlea she couldn’t push the images from her mind.

            “Belle?”

            She could feel Rumple standing behind her now, feeling his breath on her shoulder as he was so close.  It should have made her calm down, it should have made her feel safe, but all she could do was imagine she was on the verge of being attacked. 

             “Belle?”  It was Rumple’s voice again and this time it was accompanied by a hand on her shoulder.  She jumped then; flipping around defensively, ready attack before anything else could.  But she could see now it was only Rumple.

            Tears threatened to fall again, pooling near the corners of her eyes.  She answered Rumple before he had time to ask what was wrong.  “How can you be sure there’s no ogres out there?”

            “Belle, I’ve explained this-I used my magic to scour the area.  There’s no ogres within one hundred miles.  The capitol is far from Avonlea, far from the battlefields.  You aren’t in for any surprises this trip.”  He paused his face showing he couldn’t promise something like that.  “Any ogre surprises I mean…”

            Belle was far from any type of mood to joke.  “Alright, no ogres, I believe you, but what about the…”  She stopped herself then, having almost spilled the beans about the dark blob creatures.  She still hadn’t told him about those and she wasn’t sure it was a good idea to.  Every time she really thought about them…like really thought about them that headache would return.  He would probably think more about it than he should.  He would worry more than he should.  It was just headaches after all; any one could get them.

            “What about the what?” He eyed her suspiciously leaning forward a little, scrutinizing her every move. 

            Thinking quickly on her toes she came up with an answer that was a legitimate concern.  “What about the Evil Queen?  What if I run into her?”

            He went into deep thought then, as if he hadn’t considered the witch might be an issue.  And to Belle, she may very well not be.  After all it wasn’t like she had seen the woman before, yet whenever her name was mentioned it did seem like she was this impending threat.  After his confession that the Queen wanted a relationship with Rumple-something that every time she thought about made Belle’s blood boil-she really didn’t understand why the woman was so dangerous.  All Rumplestiltskin had to do was say no.  She couldn’t force him to be with her. 

            “Here.”  Rumple held up his hand and his flesh flashed gold before returning to normal as a ring magically appeared between his thumb and forefinger.  “Give me your hand.”

            Belle watched him carefully, before obeying and holding out her left hand.  When he took it, she could feel her heart leap and it began to beat even faster as he slipped the little ring on her index finger.  She held it out to examine it.  It was a small gold ring with a bright red round jewel at the end of it that sparkled even in the tiny bit of candlelight.  It fit her hand absolutely perfectly as if it was always meant to be there. 

            Her eyes sparkled as they looked back up to meet his, but she was unsure about what all this meant.  Her heart so wanted it to mean something special, something romantic, but her head told her not to wish for such impossible things. 

            “This will protect you from the Evil Queen among other things,” he explained.

            Oh…it was for protection, nothing more.  Her smile faltered a smidge as she felt a tinge of disappointment.  Why did she even think it meant something more?  She was so stupid.  Over and over again she needed to remind herself that he would never want an ugly woman like her.  He probably thought of her like a sister and that was why he came up with this plan.  No.  That was a stupid thought too.  Why would he think of a maid as family?  It was all for Bae, nothing more.  Bae thought of her as family and that was enough reason for Rumple to keep her safe.  He had explained that to her the night before and she needed to do well to remember it. 

            As if he sensed her disappointment, most likely because he saw it on her face or inferred from her quietness, Rumplestiltskin grabbed her hands and made her look back up at him.

            “Hey, you can do this, don’t worry,” he assured her.  “The ring will protect you-I personally will be there to protect you-and you will be able to convince that fairy scum to release me of my contract.” 

            She sighed.  He couldn’t read her at all.  That had not been what she was thinking of even though they were all valid points.  He was however, holding her hands and she felt all tingly inside and a little uplifted.  She didn’t want him to let go.  Being this close to him had become very enjoyable to her and it felt as if he was showing her more and more affection with a little touch here or there.  And there she was going again letting herself believe it wasn’t an act. 

“Why do you hate the fairies so much?” she asked with genuine curiosity, but mainly as a distraction to try and stall him.  It didn’t work.

            Instantly he dropped her hands and his face soured.  He backed away from her stepping back up the stairs to the main floor.  “Hurry along now my dear, shan’t be wasting any more precious time.”  He waved at her in a shooing motion, which infuriated her just a little bit.  She wasn’t some stray he was trying to get rid of.  Then again he could have just been teasing her.  Or he could have just been trying to avoid going into detail about his past, avoiding telling her anything about him like always. 

            Well she could play his game.  Grabbing the doorknob and turning it, she stepped one foot outside before turning around to address him one last time.  “Perhaps you should be nicer to me Rumple.  I am doing you a favor.  After all you wouldn’t want me to tell the Blue Fairy the truth about your little plan now would you?”  She flashed him a playful little smirk, waggled an eyebrow and then shut the door before he could have the last word. 

            For a brief moment she stood outside the door to the castle, which here in the capitol was just a door on the side of a brick building.  She giggled.  She found delight teasing him even if she wasn’t very good at it.  Perhaps she should start doing it more often. 

            Composing herself, she decided to set off toward the palace to get this over with.  But as she took her first step a piece of parchment appeared out of thin air, startling her as it floated down from above her, wide open with a large font so she could easily read it.  “Leave the deals to me, dearie,” the large calligraphy read just before it hit the ground and burned away leaving no trace that it had ever been there in the first place. 

            Belle sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, looking to the sky as if she expected to see Rumple there.  Yet, there was nothing but a few puffy clouds, the sun shining bright, and a couple of crows.  They were cawing loudly as they flew overhead, a few of them landing on a nearby building and staring at her as if they were watching her. 

            “Oh he better not be disguised as a crow,” she said aloud with a huff.  How could he protect her as a measly little crow?  She guessed he could easily watch over her and see all around, but still…

Thinking of protection and disguise, Belle glanced down at the ring and then down at her clothes.  He had given her a nicer dress to wear, one that screamed more wealth and less maid.  It had a pretty pink linen skirt that fell just above her ankles with a cream linen shirt that had a ruffle around the neck.  Over the shirt she wore a thick button down brocade vest, that matched many of the vests Rumplestiltskin wore when he was dressed as a wizard and not a man, but hers of course was much more feminine.  The wool cream shawl wrapped around her helped protect her from the chill in the air, as there was a slight breeze in the city that day. 

They were all very nice, but like everything else they meant nothing and Belle knew they didn’t suit her at all.  She didn’t deserve to wear such gorgeous clothes.  They were pretty things for pretty women and she was nothing of the sort. 

The crow cawed loudly again pulling her from her thoughts.  She huffed again and looked away, this time actually setting off on her mission, determined to get through this even though she knew it wasn’t going to work. 

At least the little bit of excitement caused her to briefly forget about her fear of ogres and blob men, but as she made her way through the streets she began to find herself nervous once more.  Every alley way she checked, every corner she peeked around fearing there was something hiding there waiting to get her.  She took a deep breath and told herself to focus on something else-like trying to determine what Rumple had disguised himself as.  Yes, that was a good decision and something she needed to know.  Now if he had just told her, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but he had to make everything a game didn’t he?  She had come to the conclusion that it was not a crow.  She had not seen any since she left the castle and not one of those that were hanging around there followed her.  He could have been some sort of bird though.  It did make sense.  He had magic and did fly.  He had showed her that, once, and of course she had freaked out.  But he had surprised her and she wasn’t in her right mind, what did he expect?  Maybe if the time was ever right she could ask him to try and show her again. 

            When she came to the center of the city there was a large bronze statue and fountain right in the middle of a man with a beard on a horse.  Belle had no idea who it could be, but she assumed it was either the current or a past king.  Several pigeons perched on the statues head and a few on the cobblestone streets, cooing loudly as they scouted the ground for food.  Could Rumple be a pigeon?  No.  If he wasn’t a crow then he wasn’t a pigeon.  It was too simple for him.  No, if he were a bird he would be something more sophisticated she was sure. 

The town centre was hustling and bustling with people, most of them obscenely wealthier that the crowd she had encountered in Avonlea.  Their brightly colored clothes made of lace and silks were nothing like she had ever seen before.  Most of the men wore very fancy suits with either a tie or bow tie to match and some sort of hat a top their heads.  The ladies wore hats too, adorned with bows, feathers, or small trinkets.  Some women were dressed in more traditional clothing like Belle while others were in the modern wear with skirts that came above their knees and furs wrapped around their shoulders. 

            She didn’t understand that clothing very well, although she did recall wearing something similar in that dream she tried to forget, the one that made her blush every time she considered what her and Rumple were doing in one of his shops.  It was causing her to also blush now as those images surfaced in her mind.  Over and over again she needed to remind herself that it was only a dream, a dream she needed to forget. 

            A laugh from above caused her to forget about it and she glanced up to see a two manned metal flying contraption flap by with large wings.  A man was driving and a woman held on to him from behind as he made the machine do a little swoop trick causing the woman to giggle uncontrollably like a little school girl with a crush. 

            She felt a pang in her heart.  Her mind told her THAT could be Rumple, showing off and flirting with other women, but she desperately hoped not. 

“Mreowww, meoooowwww.” Something brushed against the bottom of her legs caused her to startle. 

            It was just a kitty, purring and rubbing her ankles, looking at her to be petted or fed, she couldn’t be sure.  Belle bent down and rubbed the grey cat on the head, the little thing purring even louder and rubbing back.  “I really need to stop being so on edge,” she said a loud to herself and the kitty as if it could understand.  Something occurred to Belle then and she narrowed her eyes at the cat who was so adamant about getting affection from her.  “Rumple…is that you?” 

            The cat mewed again as if it was answering her, but then suddenly it squealed and darted off, faster than Belle could ever expect to chase it. 

            Straightening her back, Belle placed both hands on her hips.  Well, no she supposed that wasn’t Rumple.  Then what was?  And what had scared off that cat?  She turned around and instantly received her answer.  Sitting right behind her was a little Dalmatian puppy.  It stood on all fours and barked, as it’s long tail waggled back and forth happily. 

            Belle smirked and shook her head.  “I should have known you would want to make an entrance,” she commented, knowing now this little puppy was her Rumplestiltskin.  She adjusted the shawl on her shoulders and continued on down the streets.  The dog followed obediently as if she was the master and had told him to come.  “I’d like to know what you would have done if there hadn’t been a cat.” 

            The puppy barked twice.  Belle rolled her eyes.  Of course she couldn’t really understand what he was trying to say.  “Couldn’t you at least pick something more useful?  Or that sticks out a little less?  I mean seriously Rumple, out of all the dogs, a Dalmation?  I didn’t think you wanted to draw attention to us.”

            And attention was just what they had drawn.  As she scolded the dog, or Rumple perhaps, she didn’t notice the duo of dark blob men appear along side her along with a tall rounded black carriage accented with a beige door and trim.  The top was adorned with intricate gingerbread and a single black curtain his the occupant inside.

“My my, what an adorable little dog.”   A sickly sweet woman’s voice echoed from behind the red curtain of the carriage, calling Belle’s attention as she realized she was no longer alone.  At first she only saw the carriage and not the creatures that were pulling it.

            If she had been alone, she knew she would now be scolding Rumple for drawing attention, but she had to keep her mouth shut in front of this stranger of whom had yet to show her face. 

            “Too bad he makes company with such an ugly little bookworm.”  The curtain moved aside then revealing a breathtakingly beautiful woman.  She was dressed all in black with a silver necklace and embroidered cape to match the detailing on her carriage.  Her hair was just as dark as her dress and her lips as red as an apple.  A small hat with lace on the edge sat a top her head giving her a very polished and wealthy appearance.   And for the first time without doubt Belle knew who this was.  She did not even have to think or guess.  It might have been her memory or it might have been just inference, but there was no mistaken.  This was the Evil Queen. 

[frostywindmademoan]

The Girl Behind the Counter

intro: This is an on going Michael fic I’ve been working on. The whole plot will include swearing, sex, and violence. *constructive feedback is welcomed* 

Chapter 10 (previous chapters)

“How is your aunt?” Michael asked when (Y/N) arrived at his place. “Much the same actually. I lied so you wouldn’t worry, but there was a man watching the shop all day today.” (Y/N) confessed. “What?! A man is stalking you and you think it’s a good idea to not tell me?” Michael shouted.

“It wasn’t me he was watching! If it was he would’ve had plenty of opportunities to come in the shop and attack me or whatever terrible image is popping in your mind, but he only came into the shop once and left when I asked him to. He spent the whole day across the street watching the shop, like he was waiting for someone. Now, who do I know who might potentially have enemies that would take advantage of him leaving the safety of the Shelby sphere in order to lunch with his girlfriend? Hmm?” (Y/N) folded her arms across her chest while posing her hypothetical questions. “A creepy man hung about your shop all day and your first thought was of me?” Michael asked. “I know you lead the kind of life where people are always going to be after you, but they’ll have to go through me first.” This might have sounded comical coming from such a petite girl, but she meant it with the upmost sincerity and Michael knew it. “God help the man who makes an enemy of you.” Michael leaned down to kiss her. Michael walked over to his liquor cabinet to make (Y/N) her usual gin and tonic. “You still should have told me though, over the phone. Me and the boys would’ve come down there.” Michael said while handing (Y/N) her glass. “And ruin a perfectly peaceful day for everyone on the block? You Peaky boys tend to leave a rather violent wake behind you.” She defended her actions. “I still don’t like it. That guy was watching you all day. I don’t like that any of Falco’s boys know where to find you.” Michael was pacing the room. “This might be very inappropriate to say, but Falco is a pretty badass name for a gangster. It’s got a nice ring to it. If That guy comes back to my shop I might just hop in his arms and run away with him.” She teased. “This isn’t funny (Y/N). I can’t have you in danger for being close to me.” Michael had stopped pacing just long enough to scold her, but soon resumed. “I don’t think you have much of a say in all that, seeing as it’s my decision to be close to you.” All of the joking tone had left (Y/N)’s voice. “That’s not what I meant, I know you realize what kind of man you’ve gotten involved with, but still. If they were to hurt you I’d go mad. I’d go absolutely mad. I’d burn the whole of Liverpool to the ground.” Michael had knelt down next to where (Y/N) was sitting and taken her hand in his. What he said might have sounded like a hyperbole if it had come from anyone else, but it was Michael who threatened it. (Y/N) could tell by the look in his eyes just how serious he was. “Why ruin a perfectly good city for me, eh?” (Y/N) stroked his cheek and then leaned in to kiss him. “Because you’re my whole world.” Michael answered. “That’s not true. You have your family and your friends, and your business. I’m just new to your world.” She faintly smiled. “And you’ve quickly become it.” Michael added. While still kneeling he unbuckled her heels and removed them as gently as if they were coming from Cinderella’s own feet. He then reached up and undid the garters holding up her stockings. Slowly he slid the silky material down her legs. “Seeing you on your knees is quite a refreshing change. It’s a view I wouldn’t mind getting used to.” (Y/N) cooed, causing Michael to smile. He left a trail of kisses up the inside of her leg to her thigh, pushing her dress up when it got in his way. “Do a man a favor and just throw all of these out, they just get in my way.” He growled while pulling at her drawers. “Yes sir.” (Y/N) giggled, but her giggling was cut short by a gasp as Michael placed his tongue right where he knew drove her mad. “Shit.” She sighed while leaning her head back. Hearing her curse urged Michael on. (Y/N) bit her lip in reaction to the sensation Michael was causing her. He looking up just in time to catch this and the imagine made him turn animal. He stood up, grabbed her face and brought it to his, while sitting down on the couch next to where (Y/N) was. His hold on her caused (Y/N) to shift into Michael’s lap, straddling him. This was his favorite place in the entire world for her to be. (Y/N) quickly undid the tie that she herself had tied earlier that morning and moved down his core, taking apart buttons as she went. Then she nimbly moved to his belt and the zipper of his trousers. “Now look at whose pants are in the way.” She teased while slipping onto her knees to be in the same position Michael had just been. Satisfied groans and longing moans contradicted one another as they left Michael’s mouth. They both knew the little spots that drove each other wild and (Y/N) was currently hitting every single one of Michael’s. “Fuck I can’t take it any more.” Michael groaned. He stood up, pulled (Y/N) up off of the floor, and pushed her against the nearest wall. “Shit, don’t stop darling! Don’t stop!” (Y/N) whispered into his ear as he held her between the wall and his body. She had her legs wrapped around Michael’s waist and her arms around his shoulders. The wall was nothing more than a safety net, really Michael was her full support and she trusted every inch of him. The next morning Michael set up a meeting with Tommy. “Tommy, would you mind letting me check out the new club in London? And then maybe taking a day or two off afterwards?” Michael asked his cousin. “That’s not exactly your department Michael, why are you asking?” Tommy returned Michael’s question with a question. “I need to get (Y/N) out of town for a few days. I’m not sure she’s safe.” Michael lowered his voice to tell Tommy this. “Why what happened?” Tommy asked with a surprising amount of force. All of the Shelbys had grown very fond of (Y/N). “Yesterday some bloke staked out her shop. She said she thinks they were looking for me. I can’t have Falco knowing where to find her so I want to get her away for a bit.” Michael explained. “Fine, take her to London tomorrow morning. Take her to the club and ask her what she thinks of it, I trust her opinion. And take her out someplace nice too, not just some booze den. While you’re gone I’ll have the shop watched and make sure there isn’t any trouble there.” Tommy said. “Thanks Tommy I just… I just can’t have her hurt.” Michael whispered. “I know lad. Trust me, I know.” Tommy knew painfully well. The idea to take (Y/N) to London had come to Michael early in the morning when he lie awake, unable to sleep. He watched (Y/N) peacefully breath in and out and in again as her darkened lashes rested against her soft cheeks. Every once in awhile he could see her eyes darting from under her lid as she lived out some dream. She was so precious sleeping there in his arms. Normally Arthur took care of business in London, but the new club Tommy was eyeing was a good excuse to get (Y/N) out of Birmingham. Suddenly Michael’s thoughts of (Y/N)  resting in his arms were pulled away from him and he was brought back to reality. “Oh and Michael! Alfie Solomons will want an update on Falco while you’re in town.” Tommy reminded him. Michael had felt awkward in the presence of Alfie ever since he had shot one of his men. Yet, it was Jewish rum the Peaky Blinders would be moving through Liverpool so Alfie needed to be involved. “Relax. Take (Y/N), she’ll charm the prayer shawl right off of him.” Tommy gave Michael a slap on the shoulder that was meant to be encouraging, but made Michael uneasy. He had hoped to never involve (Y/N) in Shelby Limited Business, but he knew she’d be a magnificent asset to the company. At lunch Michael told (Y/N) they’d be going to London. “Well this is a bit short notice.” She replied. “Truth be told I’ve got some business down there and I’d like to take you with me until I’m sure things are safe here. Who is that girl who works in the shop part time on the weekends? Ask her to take over for a few days!” Michael smiled like he had it all worked out. “She’s just a kid Michael, she’s still in school!” (Y/N) protested. “Then it’s a good thing school just let out for the summer! C’mon (Y/N), I’m sure the girl would appreciate the extra hours. Plus, your aunt loves her! She can look after her and the shop!” Michael suggested. “Alright, I’ll give her a call.” (Y/N) conceded and Michael gave her a grateful kiss. “Oh! And I don’t know if you have a gown or jewels or anything from the whole being an aristocrat thing, but if you do I’d pack them because I’ve got a surprise for you!” Michael beamed with excitement.

[writerericgreene]

Exodus from Muntasir

Hakem, all is lost. The tide that threatens is larger than the one we feared, and the forces that stand to protect the seven kingdoms are splintered, shattered beyond what I had feared. 

Let me start with our journey from Muntasir. We left early in the day, when the sun was still a smudge on the horizon, the light dark blue around us. The emissary’s caravan was one of the few pieces of ordered motion in the early morning. All around us were the refugees, fleeing what is to come. In the midst of the throng of people, all jostling, shoving, pushing, I saw a small girl from her family’s car. She fell back, her family unable to see her, her small hands flailing, crying plaintively in the dark. One of the soldiers carried her, holding her as she squalled, plain brown eyes furtive. It was only late in the day, when the sun hung high above, that she shrieked at the sight of her father. He wept tears of relief, prostrating himself in front of the emissary. We had only minutes before we, too, had to ride on. There is no end to the flood of people. It stretches out in front of us, camps strewn for miles around the road. 

The farmers in the fields have long since had to abandon any hospitality. They have no food to share. Some have hoarded, but dare only sell in secret, lest angry yells lead to angry blows, and they be torn apart by the tide of humanity that is washing south. 

Ever since we left Muntasir I have had the same sensation that I had in the grass plains, far north of the city. The sensation of being watched by a predator, the way a man’s hackles will rise when he walks through a forest, a wolf following silently behind. 

In the distance, there is motion. Always far away, on the horizon. Small shapes, flecks, moving. They shift quickly, going this way and that, with the urgency of fast riders. Not for them the slow, laborious motion of these caravans, pushing through the throngs of people that clog the road. 

All decorum is abandoned, as merchants pitch their tents next to farmers and beggars. All fleeing the same terror, all marching the same way. By the roadside we see the remains of where the riders have struck before. The arrows, piercing the abandoned carts; and the corpses. Some may have been buried, when first they were fleeing the city. Now they lie where they fall, and others move around them, still crowded into this desperate river of fleeing humanity. 

In the evening the emissary pitched his tent, and his guards ringed it, holding back those muttering outside. He does not have enough; the crowd here stretches farther than we can see. 

He offered me some of his finest wine; a rich, sweet drop, red as blood. 

“Drink well, scholar. Soon there will be little enough of this left.” 

I drank deeply, and it was like honey, and nectar, and the scent of spring in my mouth. 

He drank as well, deeply, and his lips were dyed red with the wine, drips of it smattered in his beard. Fear was on his face, a fear that I have not seen before. 

“What do you think it is that will be left?” 

We spoke of the great walls of Muntasir, and of whether they would hold against the horde that we had seen. We spoke of the great temple of Muntasir. Of the mine, of the great temple, of the court of the gods, still thronging with those seeking solace, now crowded with those in the grey robes of the conclave. 

“Aye, the mine will last. Little enough they can do to destroy the very stone that we mine the ore from; might as well to slaughter the rock and earth they stand on.” 

He sighed, and drank again, a great, deep draft. Looking into his eyes, I knew that he was terrified, and that he drank to reach for something at the very bottom of the bottle, some hope that had long since abandoned him. 

“And the rest of Muntasir?”

He shook his head, small droplets of wine splashing from his beard. 

“Not for five hundred years, since the great siege of Kitab, have enemies marched beneath the walls of one of the seven cities. Then it was raiders, marching across the mountains; enough to threaten those who ventured out of the city walls, but not enough to breach them. Now, these riders ... they will wash over Muntasir the way the tide washes over a piece of driftwood.”

“But the walls are high enough; broad enough to carry a chariot abreast them.” 

“Aye, but it matters not. Muntasir has not the food, nor the water supplies, to hold out. Her soldiers will grow weary. Then they will grow thirsty. Worst of all, when the food runs low they will go hungry. Then they will gnaw at themselves, and at others, with the desperation of the truly doomed.” 

“Do you not think the armies of the seven cities can relieve the city?” 

He laughed, his head thrown back, and it was a wry, dry laugh. 

“Cannot, and will not.” 

Hakem, I felt a great weight sink upon me then, so terrifying that I could barely breath, my heart pounding in my ears.

“Will not?”

When the emissary laughed again it was a dry, hollow laugh, with all the comfort of a death rattle. 

“Aye, will not. Do you know that when Kitab was besieged, it took Muntasir two years to send us troops? By the time they had arrived, the besiegers had laid siege long enough to leave the residents in the city starving, half-mad with hunger. In their desperation, or perhaps a desire to end it all, they threw open the gates of the city, and thousands died in single day, cut down in the streets. The blood ran so thick it covered the iron boots of those who marched through, swords in hand. The captain of the garrison, with most of his guard, held fast in the keep in the centre of the town. They lasted there for another six months, until the soldiers of Muntasir and the other cities arrived.” 

He laughed bitterly. “Then the soldiers of our glorious seven kingdoms slaughtered every one of the raiders; and all that they had taken from the city of Kitab - the books, the jewels, the precious ornaments - every piece of it was carried off, as the spoils that the relievers had conquered from the attackers. Not a piece was returned.” 

My face was white, my friend. How is it that as the enemy knocks at our very door, that there is division in the great council? 

“The soldiers of Kitab will not ride north? Not even for Awhad, for the sacred duty they owe, to join the other cities in the kingdom?”

The emissary spat then, his spittle deep red on the carpet, his face red and angry as he turned towards me. 

“Awhad? Awhad! Awhad is a lie that lets the strong prey on the weak, that lets Muntasir sink its claws deep into the other cities, teeth deep in their necks, all the while proclaiming friendship. For years, Muntasir has relied on the scholars of Kitab for its science, relied on the soldiers of Sayf to defend it, on the trade of Bahra, and the agriculture of the others, to sustain it. All the while Muntasir sucks, like a leech, on the industry of every other part of the kingdom, hoarding its miserly fortune, refusing to share the glory of the court or the gains of trade.” 

I was terrified, Hakem, afraid to press on, but I knew that I must. The emissary leant towards me as he spoke, spittle speckling my face, his finger waving; his rage so hot that I thought he would call the guards in to slaughter me as we sat there. But still, I had to know. 

“Are you not afraid that the riders will overcome Muntasir, that they will cripple it?”

He laughed, then, angry and happy all at once, a gleam in his eye. He took another deep draught, and his breath stank of the wine. 

“Aye, we crave it; we hope for it, we pray for it.” He looked around, as though worrying that some other pair of ears were listening. “We even arrange it, as much as we can.” 

“Why do you think it is that the city of Kitab takes such an interest, in the riders on the far north? Why do you think it is that Temulin, an upstart among the tribes, has been able to gather together so many of them to his banners, to unite the riders into a single force, the like of which the world has never seen before?” 

His hands were waving, gesturing, frantically. His fingers stabbed the air, as though emphasising every word that he spoke. 

“We have ridden north, to draw the riders south, away from their attacks on the weak farmers to the west of the great plain. To attack a city like Muntasir - that is foolish, even for a large army of riders, and yet they march south. In part - yes, in part - because we have supported those who would make the most crucial difference. Where two tribes fought, we have tried to encourage those who would attack Muntasir. Slowly, slowly, we have been able to bring them together, shaping them like clay, binding them one unto the other. “

Then the emissary laughed and clapped his hand, like a gleeful child. “Now it is that they march south, to crush Muntasir. When that city has fallen, crushed into the very dirt, they will have torn the heart out of the riders’ army, leaving it crippled and destroyed. Then, and only then, will our forces ride north. Kitab will assume its rightful place as a leader, the first city.” 

Hakem, I fled before he could wake to his senses. Outside, in the cool night air, it seemed a nightmare, a strange thing that I must have misunderstood. But it makes, it seems a terrifying kind of sense. Why Kitab was the only city to listen to our warning, to pay our words heed. Why it is that the emissary has ridden north for so long, why it was that we waited for negotiations nigh a week at the great hall, only to learn that the riders were still pouring south. 

I stumbled past the guards in the darkness. Those on watch still stood there, stoic, as all around us the river of humanity, tents and camps and fires to the horizon, stretched into the darkness. 

Hakem, I fled. I unhobbled my horse, and rode before the emissary could call the guards. I rode through the dark, the road littered with abandoned carts, or with those too tired to even find their way off the road to collapse. 

By morning I was a good ride from the emissary, but still I rode, my horse exhausted and frothing. I have given my letter to a rider I encountered on the way; one travelling from Sayf to Bahra, but he assures me that it will return with another rider to Sayf. I hope you receive this, my friend. I am riding to Bahra; it seems safest at the moment. Come join me if you can; it may be a little safer. I dare not stay in Muntasir, nor venture to Kitab. Perhaps there will be some safety in Bahra.