#I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO MENTION THAT THE SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER HORRIFIED ME.

[ends-of-the-wayward-storm]

Spoilers for "Cold-Hearted" by Serena Valentino IV

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Just finished the book last night and omg wow. Sir Richard was such a jerk (putting it very mildly)! I was seriously in shock and kinda disgusted that he was such a bad man 'cause like I always thought he was a very kind man in the movie so I had to mentally sit down. (Yes I'm aware the book and the movie are different but still.)

He definitely manipulated Cinderella into telling him Lady Tremaine was leaving since I think she genuinely cared about her stepmother and stepsisters. Poor thing had tears in her eyes. Also like tiny Cinderella kinda being a little turd for a bit threw me off, but then I thought "well she's a kid, but still, sweetie why?" and just moved on.

ALSO LIKE THE ODD SISTERS PLUS CIRCE (I love her T-T) POPPING IN AT THE BALL??? HELLO??? AND THE TRIO COMING IN BEFORE THAT??? (And me and my dusty memory of the series almost forgot who Nanny was. 🥲Irony.) I have complicated thoughts on the Fairy Godmother but that's another "book vs movie" thing. Anyway I seriously felt for Tremaine when she asked for the Fairy Godmother's help only to be denied it, even if she did mistreat Cinderella.

Oh and don't even get me started about how Sir Richard treated Lady Tremaine and her daughters because I was SO upset how he gradually began to belittle and mistreat them. Like it was literally unfair. Also like she was still evil even though technically she was a victim of circumstance and abuse BUT STILL. I seriously felt bad for them. (Meanwhile tiny Cinderella's doing damage control in any way she can. T-T)

On a related note, both Sir Richard and Lady Tremaine were still chained down by the memory of their deceased marital partners, and it affected them differently to a certain degree. Nonetheless both of them did cruel things, stepsisters included. I kinda don't wanna put Cinderella in the same slot (as much as I love her), but her very first interactions with her stepfamily was kinda unintentionally rude—even if she was likely still recovering from losing her mother. I do, however, think that her father did manipulate her in some way, as mentioned previously. But she did get along with them later.

Either way, everyone had a role in the mistreatment of one another, however big or small, intentional or not. I can understand why they mistreated each other, but that doesn't mean I'm condoning it. Except Sir Richard. I felt real betrayed with how differently he acted between meeting Lady Tremaine and when they got to the Many Kingdoms. He can just take a long walk off a short pier (sorry Cinderella but your dad's not the greatest T-T).

[gldrushsblog]

SUGAR AND SIN | JK

🧁✧ ˚. TITLE: Sugar and Sin.

🧁✧ ˚. PAIRING: Mafia boss! Jungkook x female oc

🧁✧ ˚. BLURB: Aurora assumes a pounding headache and overbearing anxiety were the worst she could experience after witnessing a murder. The gun-wielding stranger from last night is here to prove otherwise.

🧁✧ ˚. GENRE: Mafia au, grumpy x sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/thriller.

🧁✧ ˚. WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, guilt, and anxiety.

🧁✧ ˚. TAGS: oc is STRUGGLING, also she likes cereals

🧁✧ ˚. A/N: I'm sorry if you feel like the chapters are too short, but the word limit is gonna be somewhere around this for like 8 chapters or something. But I promise things are still gonna happen 😅 thank you for reading 💕💕

🧁✧ ˚. TAG LIST: @scuzmunkie... (Please do let me know if any of you want to be added too.)

CHAPTER 2: AURORA

Pain.

A dull throb.

Was the first thing aurora registered in the back of her head as she started to gain consciousness.

another thing she registered was the familiar softness of her mattress under her weight and warmth of her sheets enveloping her whole. Not her body bound by chains in a dark room. To say it was surprising would be an understatement.

She blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand, and pushed herself upright with a soft hiss. The throbbing behind her skull reminded her of how she’d ridiculously passed out , probably hitting her head on the way down.

Even if she had her consciousness back, her mind was a mess of a haze, trying to grasp at the incidents that happened the night before. Was it even real? Was her mind playing tricks on her?

If it was, it was one hell of a gruesome trick.

But she knew it wasn't even if she tried to convince herself otherwise. The scene played again in her head—the man bleeding out on the floor of her bakery, the lifeless thud as his body collapsed, and those cold, empty eyes of the man who’d pulled the trigger.

How the did she even get back here? How the hell did she get back alive and not become the second dead body lying down there at the floor of her bakery?

The image made the nausea bubble up again. With that, many others feelings also rose up. She always felt a little too much- that was her curse.

Yet before she could go back to dissecting each one of them throughly, her phone rang on the bedside table. Didn't- did'nt she leave her phone there too?

But the more horrifying information would be that there are 29 missed calls from Lia with another one incoming right now. She was probably at the bakery right now.

Picking up the phone, the gasp that left her mouth after reading the time couldn't be helped. 12:00 am. Maybe her impending death was for her blonde haired friend's to have.

Taking a deep breath, she answered the phone, the sound of her best friend exhaling heavily following right after. The calm before the storm.

"Aurora Beckett." There it was. She only called her by her full name when she was mad. Pissed, even.

"H-Hi, Lia." She greeted, mustering the best imitation of her chirpy voice when she was not on the verge of throwing up after the memories of a murder she witnessed stayed fresh in her mind.

"Don't 'hi, lia' me after ghosting my worried ass. Where were you? Is everything okay? You didn't even text me last night to inform that you've got home?" She started going on and on like the mother figure she had grown to be, and Aurora almost spilled like the dead guy's brains did last night.

Speaking of that- "I-I am. I'm super fine like really. Just had a little migraine last night and slept in a little longer than usual." She spoke in the most convincing tone she could and hoped she'd believe since migraines were pretty common with her.

"Are you at the bakery right now?" Aurora spoke again before Lia could bombard her with questions she didn't want to answer right now. "Yes, I am. And don't you go on changing the topic. I keep telling you not to overwork yourself, and God forbid you ever listen." Lia wasn't the talkative one yet when she got all mama bear mode, she would go against her usual nature.

"I'm fine, Lia. Please stop exploiting your blood pressure." She sighed in response before speaking again, in a much quieter tone. "E-Everything's okay at the bakery, right?"

There was a silence for a moment from her side, and yet Aurora could still hear the clear confusion.

"Why wouldn't it be? And look at you worrying for four walls of bricks rather than yourself? Rory, you worry me."

Aurora chose to focus on the former. Everything was fine. No blood to clean. No dead bodies to report. Right. Like hell didn't itself dominate the space and kill a man in its way last night.

"Everything worries you, Lia." She replied as a matter of fact. The statement being reason enough for her best friend to be the last person she should be sharing the occurrence of last night.

"Also, do you mind if I take this day off? I could use some more rest." Going to the place where she witnessed a murder happening was not the ideal thing to do. That much she was aware of.

"Finally a sensible decision. Of course you're gonna stay home and I'll be bringing you dinner sometime later. That is not up for any negotiation."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare." She huffed out before her voice grew quieter again or rather softer. "Thank you, Lee. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

"You will. Bye, rory. Take care, okay?" With that, Aurora was again left with the silence of her troubling thoughts.

They didn't leave her side when she got up from bed and walked to the shower to let water drain the tightness of her muscles. They didn't leave when she ate her favorite brand of cereals in brunch, trying to pretend everything was normal. But nothing was. 

How could it be? How could she? Go on with her life, engage herself in mundane tasks like nothing ever happened?

The guilt was weighting down on her, but so was the fear that a certain something or someone was now out there for her after she made herself the sole witness of such heinous crime.

Yet the former won. Of course, she was certain that doom was on its way. But not if she goes to the police first.

She would tell them all that happened, tell them the way the devil with no mercy and his shadows backing him up snatched a life out of an innocent being, how they promised something similar to her. She would.

Crossing over the short space of her living room, she got inside her room to get changed. she tried to convince herself that she was ready to face the world and do something good. Something right.

It didn't take long before she stepped out of her room in one of her overly floral dresses with a cardigan wrapped around her shoulders for the autumn wind. She liked to take her time in the shower, but that also birthed a lot of unnecessary thoughts. A thing she wasn't mentally prepared for right now.

And neither was she for the sight in front of her.

"Going somewhere, baker girl?"

The devil from her darkest nightmare has now escaped her head and was sparwled out on the couch-her couch.

To be continued..

┈➤Previous chapter.

[idontactuallywherepjs]

pt. 1

So. I started reading The Rangers Apprentice last night, and I only got up to chapter six i think (Will's just arrived at Halt's cottage for his first day of training and Halt remarks that at least he's on time and already had breakfast). And. I'm in love. Im buying the first three books today.

Anyways, assorted thoughts.

I really like the dynamic all of the wards have with each other. Like yeah these are kids who grew up together and love and get on each other's nerves in equal measure.

Will and Alyss being the only two who don't remember their parents is both heartbreaking and makes perfect sense in a weird way? I don't really know how to explain it but it just fits.

It also makes them confiding in each other about what craft their aiming for that much more impactful.

But it's also infinitely funnier to me that Alyss didn't look up. They've known each other their entire lives, literally, and she didn't. Look. Up. Comedy gold.

I just about cried at Will's reasoning for battleschool.

For whatever reason, Martin reminds me of a rat. I want to hit him with a frying pan. He's delightful.

I loved all the Craftmasters. Yeah their personalities and descriptions aren't groundbreaking or anything but they still seem neat.

Chubb's wooden ladle.

Jenny and Chubb's entire interaction. Him hitting her on the head. so great.

Will being able to feel Halt's eyes on him is so good. Like yeah! He's a natural! (I hope he falls on a face a few times while training but I love the detail that he was chosen because of his potential, not because he'll be perfect out the gait, and I like that his potential as a ranger is in obvious to him.

Will's pranks and mischief is so good. I love that detail. And the bunnies oh my gosh. I was laughing with Lady Pauline.

The second that paper was mentioned in knew what Will was going to do.

I did however think that the paper would be blank.

Will just causally doing. All of That. to get up the tower. Holy shit. Horrifying. scaling the wall especially.

I hope someone told the guard on duty what was happening right above his head i think his reaction would be funny.

My heart stopped when Halt grabbed Wills hand. Like I could tell it was coming there was no way he wasn't getting caught but i was still startled for some reason.

I hope nobody told the guards outside Baron Arald's office anything about what happened that night. Let them be confused.

Baron Arald is the funniest character so far and nobody laughs. "This time, use the stairs." Hilarious! that was so funny. poor guy is taken way to seriously i love him.

I really like the pacing so far. just something ive noticed. I takes it's time and lingers on certain scenes where other books would jump ahead. I like it.

I think ive forgotten how much i love this part of a story. it's the beginning. Ive just met the characters. I've got no idea what happens next. The plot hasn't really kicked off. The big bad is just in the distance. It's nice. It's relaxing. I love it.

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 31

quick note first of all, would anyone be interested in me also doing a liveblog for 'The Unwanted Guest' as well as these remaining chapters?

and after three books we’re back on the Ninth where this all started. Kiriona’s putting on a bit of a show with the ‘Home sweet home’ thing, but it really can’t be pleasant returning to somewhere she spent an absolutely horrible childhood trying to escape, and without Harrow no less

this might genuinely be the first time there has ever been a dog on the Ninth, i don’t really see the cult of goth priests being big on pets

‘then again, i’m not sure of John period’ yeah me neither, quite frankly even after a book which spends half its page time detailing his backstory i’m still unsure about what exactly his plans and powers are

‘a string of fairy lights wouldn’t have gone amiss’ honestly given Harrow’s general penchant for interior bone design, i think she could be persuaded if the fairy lights were made out of actual bone somehow

ohh holy shit there was a good moment while reading that description of Gideon surrounded by corpses with blood on her sword that i fully thought that she’d come back to the Ninth on some weird revenge mission and just straight up murdered Crux

‘My lady, you have come home to us … at last’ why is this making me feel things for Crux of all people. like he has no idea about Nona, or that Harrow’s lost in the River, or anything she’s been through at all. all he knows is that she left for the First, became a Lyctor, and never communicated or came home again

oh great we’re returning to possibly the creepiest part of GtN with the weird ‘devil’ things. between the duel of the Third and Sixth and possession of Colum Asht, the second half of that book is suddenly becoming very relevant again. while Nona’s been living in a combination slice-of-life/war drama, Kiriona’s life seems to have taken a sharp turn into zombie apocalypse novel. fun!

i’m very intrigued about the little pieces of John and Gideon’s relationship that we get here, notably i think (if i remember correctly) that this is the first time she’s mentioned him as ‘Dad’, seemingly completely sincerely, unlike calling him ‘Pops’ at the end of HtN. and apparently he falsely reassured her that the devils were confined to Antioch, but Kiriona seems to have fully believed him and sounds genuinely upset that he apparently lied about it

wow Crux literally cannot stop hating on Gideon even when he’s actively fucking dying. on one level i can admire the commitment but dude, this level of beef with a literal teenager is ridiculous

‘there was a figure there - dark robes with a pale face’ okay i really can’t figure out what is with the weird stalker figure here. is it Nona having a hallucination of Harrow? just a strange description of one of the nuns?

Pyrrha apparently painted a mint green nursery here a long time ago, i assume for Anastasia’s kid, which would explain the weird remark about helping deliver a baby back in chapter 10. also this implies a version of the Ninth which was at one point not quite so dedicated to the doom-and-gloom-bones-and-death aesthetic, which feels inconceivable to me

well hello Aiglamene long time no see, this is a slightly more welcome return than Crux at least. ngl i really wasn’t expecting to see all these characters from the beginning of GtN again, but it’s interesting to catch up and see how little has really changed there despite all the events of the series

ohhh my god. this is not how i expected a reunion between Aiglamene and Gideon to go. Aiglamene seems so genuinely shaken by the fact that she’s dead, and the fact that she’s apparently very angry at Harrow on Gideon’s behalf, like !! she definitely seems to care about Gideon a lot more than she ever actually let on to her

‘Nona was deeply horrified to see actual walk-around skeletons’ i think Harrow would be mortally offended that anyone in her body could find skeletons horrifying

actually yknow what i take back what i said in GtN about Palamedes, Paul should absolutely not be a therapist with this bedside manner

‘You can’t take loved away’ uh, excuse me for a minute i need to sit in a corner and cry my heart out for a moment. this moment really feels like a summary of a lot of themes in the whole series

ok the final nail in the coffin for my emotional wellbeing at the end of this chapter is that Pyrrha did actually get a birthday present, one that she’ll never be able to give her. here i am completely distraught over cheap moustache rides what have you done to me Tamsyn Muir

istg at least some part of Nona needs to live on. like c’mon Gideon died at the end of the first book and she’s still kicking, Nona can do it too. once again it is nearly the end of a Locked Tomb book and i am in severe denial about probably permanent character death

[writeforfandoms]

Warrior Song 13

Find the series masterlist

Okay guys, we're approaching the end! I think we've got two chapters left in this story. And remember, if you kill me, I can't finish the story.

Medic learns more about Atriox's plan, and has a difficult decision to make.

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical plots against humanity, nobody likes humanity I guess, playing fast and loose with canon, canon is my sandbox. Mention of injuries.

Word count: 2k

Master chief/John-117 x f!reader

“Humanity has been more opposition than I first imagined,” Atriox growled. He’d left you on the ground, for which you were grateful. It was easier to hide the shaking when you were already seated. “But you will not be for much longer.” 

You couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. You were a medic, not an engineer. But you knew it was bad. 

You wished you did know what he was doing, so you could find some way to stop him. 

Not that you really thought you could. You were, after all, the third most harmless person on this ring. 

“Why did you not break when you lost your Master Chief?” 

It took you a solid two seconds to realize that Atriox was not speaking to you, but speaking of humanity in general. You swallowed hard.

“Well, he died before, so.” You almost immediately winced at yourself. Oh yeah, great plan, snark at the maniac with the weapons and hands as big as your head. Good job. 

Atriox huffed. “Then I will see to his death permanently this time,” he growled. “He will be the first, but not the last.” He looked down at you over his shoulder, the blue lighting only making him more intimidating, somehow. 

You swallowed hard. That was very much a threat. One he apparently intended to see through. 

This was so bad. 

Two of the Endless floated nearer to him, and Atriox once again elected to ignore you, back to you. You took the chance to look around, carefully. You were far from alone, after all. 

There were weapons and supplies stacked neatly. More than you were comfortable seeing. 

It looked like war preparations. 

Which was terrifying, of course, but also rather useless here. Sure, Atriox could lead the Endless and whatever of his forces remained against the humans here on the Halo, but that was far from all of humanity. 

Fernando had told you the Halo was non-operational, John had dismantled whatever it was that made it a weapon. 

So what was Atriox’s plan? 

Not that it really mattered, so long as someone thwarted his plan. You doubted you could do much, but you could try. 

Very carefully, you scooted back away from the control panel and Atriox. Nobody even looked at you, clearly deeming you harmless. 

Maybe you could use that to your advantage? Somehow? 

You could feel the Halo humming under you, gentle vibrations that would have been soothing if you weren’t absolutely terrified. Nobody else seemed to pay it any attention, but you leaned into it a bit. 

Look, you could really use anything to help you calm down a bit just about now. 

Okay, so you couldn’t tell what they were planning, and they were currently ignoring you, correctly deciding that you were not someone they needed to worry about. Okay. What else could you do? 

There were tons of weapons, of course. Most of which you didn’t know how to use. And which you had no chance of doing any real damage with. Okay, yeah, not your best idea. Moving on. 

The Endless seemed to be doing their own thing - only a few were around Atriox. You didn’t know where the rest had gone, because when Chief had been chasing them there had been many, many more. Possibly they were around the rest of the Halo? But for what purpose?

Maybe they knew how to repair it.

The thought stirred dread in your chest, cold seeping into your bones and your mind. That… was horrifying. And terrible. That would end so poorly. 

But you had to consider it.

From what you remembered, the Endless had been around with the Forerunners, so there was a possibility they knew how to work this tech. 

Which was honestly pretty terrifying. But this whole situation was pretty terrifying, so you weren’t sure how to qualify the actual level of terrifying anymore. 

Okay. So. Atriox and the Endless were definitely up to something. You couldn’t do a lot from here. But you could watch, observe, try to piece together their plan.

And that’s exactly what you did. You sat there, thigh aching, gaze fixed on Atriox and the Endless around him. Maybe if you watched you’d get some hint, some clue as to their plan. Maybe. 

It was the least you could do, anyway. 

For the large part, they all ignored you. Atriox, the Endless, the Sangheili. All of them. You were beneath their focus, not worthy of watching more than to make sure you didn’t grab a weapon and start shooting. 

Not that you were offended by this. They were pretty much right about that. 

You had no idea how long you sat there. Time was meaningless and impossible to track. You just stayed exactly where you were, watching everything.

So when the Sangheili approached you again, you flinched. But he just sneered down at you and hauled you to your feet, grip uncaringly tight around your upper arm. You winced but kept quiet. 

You were moved through a doorway, though your thigh ached and threatened to give out from under you. A walkway went around the circular room, with a single walkway stretching out over nothingness to a central point. 

“Move,” Atriox growled from to the side of you. You chanced a quick look, but he was just watching you. So you stepped forward carefully, slowly. 

“What am I doing?” You kept your voice low - it felt wrong to speak at full volume here. 

“Ensuring my victory.” Atriox stepped up behind you, too close, looming over you. Then again, being on the same damn Halo as him was too close. Two of the Endless floated near you, watching with open curiosity. 

So. They needed you to do something. Some way to interact with the Halo, or activate it, or something. But they needed you to do it. Or else why bother grabbing a human at all? Why bother keeping you alive? 

Too many questions, not enough answers, and no way to get them. You blew out a slow breath, looking down at the interface in front of you. You could probably throw yourself off the walkway, which would at least slow down his plans. Give Blue Team a chance to catch up and stop him. 

But you didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to. 

Apparently tired of waiting for you, Atriox grabbed your arm, pulling your hand forward to slap against the interface. It lit up vibrant blue, sending chills down your spine. 

“The Forerunners thought they were being so clever,” he growled, watching various statuses show up, flicking through them. “Leaving their technology to humans.” 

The two Endless moved closer, and you stepped away. Carefully. Slowly. Your arm ached and throbbed where you’d been grabbed twice now, but nobody stopped you. They were focused on the displays. 

Okay. Maybe you could back up, grab a weapon, and… do something. 

You didn’t have a chance to plan more than that, though, as the sound of gunfire echoed down into the open room. Atriox started barking orders, his remaining soldiers gearing up quickly. 

You used the distraction to scuttle away as fast as you could, trying to remain out of the way. Partially because you didn’t want to get shot, and partially because you didn’t want to get grabbed as a shield. It was easy for you to hide in the growing chaos, looking around almost desperately for some way to defend yourself. 

The sounds of fighting grew louder, the shots getting closer. You had just turned to look back at the weapons stash, so you had a perfect view of Blue Team advancing into the room. Your breath stuttered out of you. They were okay. They were all okay. 

“Master Chief,” Atriox rumbled, taking one step forward. “We meet again.”

Chief didn’t respond, just shifting his grip on his gun, helmet fixed on Atriox. 

“You will not be so lucky again.” Atriox started forward, the floor shaking under his steps as he ran towards Chief. 

You didn’t watch. You couldn’t watch. Two of the Endless were still working at the terminal, completely avoiding the fighting. Whatever they were working on was bad, clearly. They were trying to get it done. 

You’d just have to disrupt their work. 

A shotgun slid towards you, bumping into your shoe. You picked it up quickly and then looked at Blue Team. Fred nodded to you once before he threw a whole Unggoy into the pit, the high-pitched squeals fading quickly.

You didn’t hear it hit the bottom. 

You knew the basics of gun safety, at least, so you were able to point and shoot. Which you did. Your first shot was a little wide, but the second hit both Endless. One of them turned on you with a furious sound while the other continued working. 

Well. Damn. 

You pressed your back into the wall, eyes wide. That had not gone according to plan! 

But the Endless didn’t have a chance to attack. Two more shots hit it in the back, and it turned and… teleported? It did something and moved away from you. 

Giving you a chance to focus on the remaining one. You needed to stop it. Somehow. You had no ammo, no convenient ally to help. 

So you did what you could. You threw the entire shotgun at the Endless. 

The Endless turned, energy crackling at its fingertips. Oh shit. It floated towards you slowly, seemingly just to enjoy the panic on your face as you scrambled backwards, away from it. 

Kelly dropped down out of seemingly nowhere, pinning the Endless beneath her and shooting it in the face three times. “Stop taunting them,” she scolded you, sparing you one look before she leapt off to deal with something else. 

You breathed out slowly, shakily. Yeah. Right. Good idea. You’d accomplished your goal, anyway. 

Back still pressed against the wall, you hunkered down a little, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. The fight around you was loud and far too close, but there was nowhere else to go. 

You had the perfect vantage point to see Atriox look back at the control panel. You saw two Sangheili descend on Chief to distract him. You saw Atriox leap back to the control panel. 

You looked down when you felt something bump into your shoe. Another weapon. But this time it was a grenade. You had no idea what kind it was, or what it did, but you recognized the shape. 

You picked up the grenade. Blue Team was scattered across the room, dealing with the veritable flood of Endless. 

Could you make that throw? Maybe. 

A sharp clang jerked your head to the side as Fred hit the wall across from you, getting back to his feet quickly, in time to block a shot from an Unggoy. 

Your Spartans were doing well, but they hadn’t known the extent of what they faced. They didn’t know Atriox’s full plan.

Neither did you, of course, but you knew more than they did. You knew that he couldn’t succeed. 

You knew what you had to do.

It took all your courage to take that first step forward. Then another. You moved slowly, softly. You didn’t even register to the combatants - the Endless were focused on Blue Team, and Blue Team was focused on eliminating the actual threats with extreme prejudice. 

You nearly wobbled the last step you dared, your instincts screaming at you to run away from Atriox. But you didn’t. You held your ground, facing his back, shaking. You pulled the pin on the grenade, crouching a little. Okay. You could do this. 

You rolled the grenade right between Atriox’s feet until it hit the bottom of the control panel and stopped. 

Your gaze met John’s across the room, his visor impenetrable as ever, but still comforting. He shouted, and it took you a moment to realize he’d called your name. 

Atriox made a triumphant noise. 

John lunged.

The grenade went off.

[not-a-space-alien]

K&J x MMSS 4: Valen & Jim Part 13

Part thirteen of the fourth crossover with @whumpsday!

K&J masterlist

MMSS masterlist

K&J x MMSS crossover masterlist

To be added to the taglist, contact @whumpsday

Warnings: Domestic violence/spousal abuse

This is the last chapter of this story! HOWEVER, like we mentioned at the start, this AU actually has two different timelines. So keep an eye out for Part B, which is coming next :)

***

The intervening months have been peaceful and uneventful, even with Kane there.

Until one day, Valen doesn’t come home.  Again.

Jim is going absolutely out of his mind with worry. The last time Valen went missing, it was the worst thing imaginable. The only thing worse would have been his death. He and Liz have been calling around to hunters, but no one's seen him. It wouldn't even make sense: Valan should have gone straight from Liz's district to vampire territory, and Valen is friendly with the local hunters, though Liz and Laken have been interrogating everyone anyway, as well as searching the area up to the border.

Jim can't sleep. The thought of Valen going through that again, or turning up dead, or never turning up ever again, has him hysterical. Kane tries his best to comfort him, but he's sick with worry too: he knows how cruel hunters can be.

And if it's not hunters... what else could have happened?

This drags on, with no word about his whereabouts, for weeks. Until one day, Jim gets a phone call, and when he answers, Valen's panicked, tearful voice is on the other end. "Jim!"

"Valen!" Jim screams. "Oh my god, you're alive! Where are you? I'll come get you, I'll bring you home, where are you?"

Kane is immediately at rapt attention, listening in.

Valen lets out a series of heartbroken sobs. "Jim, I'm at the Kithrara estate. My husband happened to find me when I came to vampire territory and forced me to come back. He's not letting me leave, he's not leaving me alone for even a second. This is the first time I've had even a minute alone to make a phone call and he's going to come back any second. Please, Jim, I don't know what to do, please help me."

Vampire territory. Valen is in vampire territory, Jim can't get him there. His heart clenches with despair, his eyes filling with tears. "W-what do I do? I can't even get there." He sobs, horrified that Valen is stuck with that monster again.

"I can get him." Kane says, determined, his chains tinkling as he moves closer. "I can bring him home."

"Jim, if-" Valen cuts off abruptly, but he can still be heard breathing heavily, and a man's voice distantly, talking menacingly. "Yes, sir," Valen's voice says far from the phone, and the line goes dead.

Jim cries out in anguish as the line drops. "NO NO NO!" He pounds the wall in despair, tears streaming down his face. He whips around to face Kane, also shaken.

"Please.” Jim drops to his knees, like he always used to. "Please, Kane... sir. I'll do anything. Please bring him home. You could, you could be free, just, just please help him get out of there. Please, c'mon, w-we've been good to you, right? Please."

Jim is under no illusions of how far promising Kane anything goes. Kane could condition it on taking him back, things going back to how they were before. Jim would do it, to get Valen away from that horrible abusive monster. He would give up being a person if he has to.

"Jim, it's, it's okay. I'll get him home, and come right back, and, and you don't need to do anything." Kane is honestly really relieved that Valen is in vampire territory instead of being tortured by hunters. He doesn't know the details about Valen's estranged husband, though if Valen is literally being imprisoned by him, that can't be good.

"Th-thank you, thank you, thank you. Kane, man, thank you. Please do it. Please please please, just, please." Jim is not entirely convinced Kane won't just fuck off the second he's set free. He would have no way to get Valen out, then. All he could do is hope for an eventual escape, and Jim knows firsthand how hard that is to pull off.

"I'll leave as soon as the sun sets. I promise, I'll find a way." Kane hesitates. This part is scary. "Could you... call Liz? I'd like to borrow her gear, and make sure that I can get to vampire territory without any of her colleagues... stopping me."

"Of course. 'Course, Kane. Thank you." Jim picks the phone back up.

***

That night, Kane shows up on the doorstep of the Kithrara estate, ready to raise hell. He doesn't even need to find Valen: all he needs to do is create enough commotion for Valen to escape.

He rings the doorbell.

A servant answers.  "Hello?  How may I assist you today?"

Kane dashes past the servant quite rudely, running straight inside. He pulls a stake from his belt and holds it up high.

"PRISCUS KITHRARA!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, hoping Valen hears. "Come out and face me!"

He is immediately swarmed by staff: a few servants, the ones brave enough to run towards instead of away, and a few moments later, security, who tackle him to the ground.

The landing at the top of the stairs leading from the entryway into the mansion proper is soon darkened by the presence of Priscus Kithrara, as well as an older vampire who looks to be his father.  Priscus has Valen at his side, holding his arm, in a facsimile of protectiveness at the disturbance.  Valen is in a modest dress that is not at all his style, and his eyes widen with hope when he sees Kane, but he stays silent.

"What is the meaning of this?" the elder vampire snaps.  "Who do you think you are?"

"Go!" Kane shouts, not looking specifically at Valen, but hoping he gets the message. The door is still wide-open.

Kane is wearing several pieces of silver, and a little bit of struggle is all it takes to start burning the people holding him down. He wriggles his lithe body out of their grasp among the ensuing screams of pain, though he knows he'll no doubt be tackled again a few moments later. He has to act fast.

He grabs a silver-coated throwing dart with a gloved hand and throws it directly at Priscus.

It sticks into Priscus's shoulder, through his clothes, and he hisses in pain, reflexively bringing his hands to the injury.  Valen bolts, flinging himself over the railing with his dress bundled in his hands.

"Valen!" Priscus thunders.  He grabs the dart to tear it out, then yanks his hands back as the silver burns him, before growling and grabbing it again, ripping it out and tossing it away like a hot pan.

One of the security guards steps between Valen and Kane, intercepting Valen on his way to the door.  Valen attempts to go around, and the guard crab walks to match, a high-speed game of chicken.

"Priscus, discipline your wife," the elder vampire growls.

Priscus reaches Valen before he can successfully exit the front door; Valen is smaller, and not as strong or fast as his husband, who is larger and stronger than Valen or Kane, and is also at a disadvantage of being in clothes not made to accommodate running.  Valen is yanked back by a fistful of hair, yelping with pain as he's bent towards the floor under Priscus's iron strong hands.  "What did we talk about?" Priscus growls.

This is bad. Kane needs the attention on him. What could he say to get Priscus to pay attention to him instead?

The most effective thing he can think of is unspeakably crude, and has a chance of backfiring and putting Valen in even more danger. But he's sure that nothing he could say would make Priscus focus more on him than this.

"I am Kane de Sang, and I fucked your wife!" Kane yells, his face heating up, mortified at his own words. "You're a spineless coward who needs a team of guards to face me instead of fighting me for him like a man!"

He's completely winging it. Obviously he will lose a fight with this man. All he needs is for Priscus to drop his guard for just a moment so Valen can get out the door. Just rip off the skirt and run!

Valen whimpers. "You little whore," Priscus hisses, slapping Valen across the face and throwing him to the ground. "I'll deal with you in a second." He turns to face Kane.

Inexplicable rage suddenly wells up in Valen at that moment. He's mostly just let the learned helplessness kick in until now, but for some reason seeing Priscus take Kane more seriously as a threat than Valen himself pushes Valen over the edge. "You will deal with me now!" he roars, throwing himself at Priscus, talons wrapping around his face and sinking into his eyes, blinding him. Dark black blood sprays out as Valen rakes his claws over Priscus's face, ripping at him with a ferocious wail.

Kane has an idea.  It could be a very good idea or a very bad idea. But it's Valen's decision, after all. He doesn't have to take it.

"Valen!" Kane tosses him a stake.

Valen catches the stake in a bloody hand, looking shocked and overwhelmed.  The room hangs in expectant, stunned silence for a moment, as the disobedient wife holds a stake near the sole heir of one of the most powerful families in the country.

Valen looks conflicted. Then his face screws up in anger, and he plunges the stake into Priscus's chest--not through his heart, but very, very close.

"Leave me the fuck alone," Valen hisses in his ear. "Or I won't miss next time."

He then very quickly strips his dress over his head and shoves Priscus away, tossing it over him, so he thrashes to untangled himself, still deathly afraid with the stake in his chest.

Now only in his bloomers and undershirt, Valen runs out the door and off into the night.  Kane dashes off after Valen while everyone is stunned and paying attention to Priscus's disgraced state.  The attention of the staff quickly turns towards making sure Priscus is alive and helping him, rather than chasing either of them ensuring a smooth getaway.

"Sorry for the crudeness!" Kane calls, feeling a desperate need to get that out of the way as soon as possible. "I just wanted his attention off you! That was amazing!"

Valen is laughing as he runs, from sheer joy and exhilaration. "Kane, my dear, it was a brilliant play, I wouldn't have had it any other way! Let's see that piece of shit come after his whore of a wife now! Hahaha! Thank you, Kane, I could kiss you!"

He's done good. Kane has finally done something right in his miserable life. His heart warms. "Save it for Jim! He's been inconsolable for weeks."

Jim, my poor Jim, I'm coming.

Valen has never run this fast, and doing it with a friend next to him is thrilling, and he playfully weaves in and out around Kane, zigzagging around obstacles and giggling. Knowing Priscus and that family, they wouldn’t dare come after him after this. Not when they’d seen Valen almost kill Priscus. They couldn’t risk the heir like that.

They’re finally done with him.  He’s finally free.

He arrives home, the door banging open, his chest heaving, his eyes wide. "Jim!"

Jim leaps into his arms, having been waiting by the door ever since Kane left. He squeezes Valen as tight as he can, which is not all that tightly to a vampire, but still. He sobs into his shoulder. "I missed you."

Valen hugs Jim firmly back, then picks him up and does a little spin. "I missed you more."

"Are you okay? He's not coming back for you?" Jim asks anxiously.

"I'm okay now. And I don't think he will," Valen says. "I think he's finally got it through his thick skull that he'd be better off simply finding a new wife, if he values his wellbeing."

"Good, 'cause you're too busy being, being my boyfriend." Jim laughs tearily. He looks over Valen's shoulder to where Kane stands. "Thank you. Thank you for bringing him home."

"I'm glad I could help." Kane says with a smile.

"Oooh, Kane, take all that wretched silver off so I can finally give you a well-earned hug, would you?"

Kane beams, discarding Liz's things on the porch before coming inside. Jim doesn't let go of Valen, pulling Kane into a group hug.

***

@barebarb

@cc1010foxy

@emcscared-whumps

@gt-daboss

@hurtpluscomfort

@jakersdaboss

@lolrpop

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@pigeonwhumps

@secretwhumplair

@some-thrilling-heroics

@starfields08000

@t0rture-me

@thecyrulik

@thejinglingcourtjester

@vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

@whuarri

@whump-cravings

@whump-my-heart-away

@whumpycries

@wolfeyedwitch

@whump-addict

@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

[collapsedglasshouses]

WOULD YOU SAY I'M WORTHY || PART FIVE

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x OFC ; slight Nick Folio x OFC

DIVIDERS BY @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY: When Eden meets Noah, her life is anything but perfect. Her heart is far more broken than Noah can even guess at this point. Will he be able to mend the wounds he hadn’t caused?

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, eventually smut, mentions of grief/loss, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of illnesses

A/N: Hi! First of all, I am deeply sorry this took me so long. A lot of stuff was happening in my life and I just decided to take my time and work through stuff. There wasn't a lot of time left to write. This chapter was written back in May, I just never came to upload it since I didn't really know where to go with the story at this point. Right now, I'm trying to get back into it and I hope you can forgive me for letting you hang in the air for so long. This isn't proof read but I'll go over everything once I'm finished with the story.

If you wanna be added to / removed off the story's taglist or my taglist in general, leave a comment or message me privately!

MASTERPOST || MASTERLIST

Eden’s heart was beating fast. She was nervous. In fact, she was so nervous she had been biting her fingernails like crazy the second she had opened her eyes that morning. She felt like she hadn’t slept at all the previous night, her mind always making up the worst nightmares imaginable every time she tried to close her eyes. She couldn’t think about anything else but the fact that she was in fact a widow at the ripe age of 27.

If that fact hadn’t hurt enough on its own, she also had the difficult task to tell the news to her closest people. Ryan, Dylan’s younger brother, had reassured Eden that he would book flights for him and Raven as soon as they ended the call.

Eden was scared. She was so scared to tell them that Dylan was basically dead, because she herself couldn’t quite believe it. The only thing that slightly snapped her out of her anxiety was the fact that she would finally see her sister again.

Eden tried to ignore the jealousy creeping up her bones when she thought about Ryan and Raven. Her sister and Ryan were going to have what her and Dylan never had. A life together. Raven and Ryan had been together for almost eight years at this point. It was a picture-perfect story to tell. Back when Eden began dating Dylan over eleven years ago, Raven met Dylan’s younger brother Ryan. It was like a dream come true for their parents when the two also began dating but everything came crashing down on them when Dylan got diagnosed with a tumor as big as a ping-pong ball in his brain. After the horrifying news everything changed. Everyone became quieter. No one dared to crack a joke around Eden. Eden distanced herself.

Eden couldn’t help but think about their wedding. They didn’t even really plan to get married at all. One day they just randomly decided there was this possibility of doing it and the next they knew they were getting married with just the closest friends and family around. Eden thought it was going to last forever, that nothing in the world had the power to come between them. But life, as always, proved them more than wrong.

When the doorbell rang, Eden was finally snapped out of her thoughts. She noticed how she had been standing in the middle of her living room since she had gotten the message from Ryan that they had landed in Los Angeles. She felt how her hands became sweaty. It felt like she fell into a trance as she walked to the door of her home and stood in front of it.

It took another ring of the bell for Eden to finally grab the door handle and slowly opening said door.

“Oh my god, Eden! Finally!” Her little sister blasted in her ear and before she knew it she was wrapped into a tight and warm embrace. Eden wanted to return the gesture but she couldn’t even lift her arms to do so.

Her eyes shot right to Ryan, who was standing behind her sister. Eden hadn’t brought it over herself to tell him what had happened on the phone, but when Ryan saw the expression on her face, she realized he probably had an intuition what was about to happen. His smile faded slightly as they stared at each other.

“What’s going on?” Ryan asked in a concerned voice as he hugged her for a short second.

“I think you guys should sit down first.” Eden mumbled so quietly, she wasn’t even sure if she understood her words herself. She slowly lifted her hand to point in the direction of her dining room, causing Raven and Ryan to slowly enter her home. It was this moment, when she realized they never were at her home before.

After leaving Alexandria in a hurry to be with Dylan in Los Angeles, all her family members slowly began to distance themselves from her. She almost felt like she was poison to them. Nobody dared to get too close to her, fearing they would break her. The only two being semi normal to her were the two stepping into her home at the moment.

“Why aren’t we going to the hospital?” Raven asked with such innocence in her undertone Eden wanted to break down right at her spot. Ryan on the other hand was looking at Eden with his hands folded on the table like he was preparing himself for whatever was to come.

Eden took a deep breath while sitting down at the opposite side of the table. She felt like the words were stuck in her throat. It felt like every ounce of breath was pushed out of her lungs all at once.

“Eden?” Raven whispered and reached over the table to touch her older sister’s hand. Eden’s hands were shaking under her touch. In fact, her whole body was shaking. Raven knew her sister like the back of her hand. She knew it was hard for her to find the right words but she had never seen her in such a state. Not even when Dylan got diagnosed. It broke Raven’s heart to see her like this even though she had no idea what was about to come.

“Dylan is braindead.” Eden breathed out, her voice trembling and her gaze still fixed on Raven and her connected hands. “We need to discuss what to do now.”

Eden heard the gasp that slipped out of her sister’s mouth. She felt how the touch on her hand became firmer. After that it became quiet in the room. The tears started to burn in Eden’s eyes. She couldn’t look up. She couldn’t move.

“Are you serious right now?” Raven whispered and Eden noticed she was crying.

“If you think I would joke about this, you definitely do not know me.” Eden whispered out with a trembling voice. She didn’t want it to sound that rude, but she didn’t have the energy to filter her words in that moment.

It took another minute or two until Eden finally dared to look up. Her eyes immediately met Ryan’s and she felt like she needed to throw up. Ryan had the same eyes as his brother. The same shade of brown. The same shade that she adored so much.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Ryan asked, his eyes also slowly filling with tears. Dylan was everything Ryan had left of his family. They grew up without their father, who left them when Ryan was just two and Dylan was six. If that wasn’t enough, their mom died just five years prior in a car accident. It felt like Ryan just couldn’t get some rest. Eden always admired how well he handled everything but at this exact moment she realized that even the strongest people crack sooner than later.

“We-…” Eden began but her voice stuck in her throat. She swallowed down her upcoming tears, trying to be the support that the two in front of her needed right now. “We can either shut down life support or consider organ donation.”

Ryan let out a tone Eden felt like she would never forget. The cry he let out was so awful she felt like it imprinted itself on her bones. She watched how Raven wrapped her arm around him while not letting go of her sister’s hand.

It broke Eden’s heart to be the one to break the news to Ryan. She felt like she never came out with good news in the last couple of years. Every time she made herself known to anyone in her family, it always came with bad things.

She pressed her teeth together trying to not break down completely while hearing Ryan and Raven’s cries. Eden squeezed her little sister’s hand for a second.

“I don’t even-…” Ryan began to say but broke down in the middle of the sentence. He pressed his hands against his eyes in a pleading attempt to stop his tears. Another wave of cries escaped his mouth and Eden looked to the ceiling for a second. Her lip was trembling.

“I think we-…” Ryan tried to say again but like before he couldn’t get his words out.

“It’s okay.” Raven whispered, tears streaming down her face.

“I-… I wish I could make this any easier.” Eden stuttered out while crossing her arms in front of her chest in hopes of some kind of comfort.

They sat like this for what felt like hours, before anyone dared to speak up again. It was slowly getting dark outside and it felt like their lights were also taken from them in the process.

TAGLIST:

@measuredingold @cncohshit @circle-with-me @sitkowski @exitwoundsx

@jilliemiw86 @justeli6 @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @crossedxoceans

@bngurngheart @dream-machine-love @vinyardmauro @arkiliastuff @princessmarshmallowx

@thisbicc @xxkittenkissesxx @malerieee @smoke-in-diamond-shape @veronicaphoenix

@thatgirlforever5 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @missduffsblog

[outofangband]

Comparing the Captures of Maedhros and of Húrin thoughout versions

Note: I did not include all volumes of HoME in this however with the exception of Volume Eleven which contains The Wanderings of Húrin there are few meaningful differences. I will make a later post for more HoME content

Second note: I also have a post comparing the fates of Morwen, Aerin post Nírnaeth and Dor-lómin generally which I also will work on to revise and republish

It is notable to me that Húrin and Maedhros are among the only named figures Morgoth successfully orders the capture of by name. I wanted to explore the similarites and differences between varying versions.

Here are the two that are probably considered most canonical, from The Silmarillion and The Children of Húrin respectively

Maedhros was ambushed and all his company were slain but he himself was taken alive by the command of Morgoth and brought to Angband (The Return of the Noldor, The Silmarillion)

...but they took him at last alive by the command of Morgoth who thought thus to do him more evil than by death (The Battle of Unnumbered Tears, The Children of Húrin)

Morgoth’s intentions for Húrin are far more clear than for Maedhros. He knows ( “by his art and his spies”) that Húrin had the friendship of the King (Turgon in this case). It’s not entirely clear yet if Morgoth has heard rumors that Húrin had been to Gondolin but he certainly knows of the brothers reunion on the battlefield with Turgon and makes some quick connections. The conversation between Húrin and Morgoth spans almost the entirety of chapter three and has some of the most dialogue for Morgoth in the entire Legendarium

@tolkien-feels once made a joke about the conversations between Túrin and Sador in chapter one being like forced to go through the Athrabeth with a child and I think The Words of Húrin and Morgoth function almost in a similar way; some of the deeper philosophical questions of the universe involving mortality and fate and the reach of the gods are raised in these horrifying circumstances.

(I won’t go into it too much here because there is so much to say about this, but I’ll link a couple of my posts on it just for my own reference and organization here and here

Morgoth certainly tried to use the capture of Maedhros to his own advantage when he sends word to his brothers claiming he’d release him if they retreated but this attempt is rather perfunctory and I don’t think he truly thought it would go anywhere. At best, the Fëanorians might be spurred or goaded into further recklessness trying to recover Maedhros. At worst, nothing would happen for some time. 

A fascinating difference between the notes of Tolkien that later became this part of the published Silmarillion is that in the original notes, two more words are added to the quote above. Maidros was ambushed, and all his company was slain, but he himself was taken alive by the command of Morgoth, and brought to Angband and tortured. (HOME V, p. 274)

In the version in the Book of Lost Tales, Maedhros is captured at the gates of Angband during a siege. He is tortured for information on jewel making, no word given on the success of this interrogation, and then released alive though maimed in an eerily vague afterthought. I have more on this in my BoLT tag, I find it fascinating for the ways it mirrors Húrin’s release in later canon

In the Lays of Beleriand Maedhros is mentioned only briefly though interestingly, most of his mentions include note of his torment, the most prominent appearing in The Lay of the Children of Húrin 

in league secret with those five others, in the forests of the East fell unflinching foes of Morgoth Maidros whom Morgoth maimed and tortured is lord and leader, his left wieldeth his sweeping sword

Both the use of the name Maidros as well as the specifications of ‘maimed and tortured’ appear to take after the Book of Lost Tales version however the Lays goes further and confirms that the maiming left so vague in BoLT did indeed include the loss of Maedhros’s right hand. And of course it’s notable that Morgoth did this, not Fingon during rescue. 

Húrin‘s capture and imprisonment remain fairly consistent throughout the more known versions of the story, that is, in the Silm, in the Narn, and in the unfinished tales. Even in  BoLT and the Lays the general outline is similar. In the Silm and the Narn, the story is consistent though of course much is cut out in the Silm version. Unfinished Tales has no significant changes to this section of the text. 

In BoLT which is not considered canon, Úrin as he’s called there is captured during battle and both threatened with torture and offered great riches to betray Turondo (Turgon). When he refuses, Melko sets him in a ‘lofty place of the mountains’ and curses him to watch the doom of Morwen and his children.  (”at least none shall pity him for this, that he had a craven for a father”). Húrin has not been to Gondolin in this version. This version is notable in this regard for a few things: One, Morgoth spends far less time with Húrin and no mention of physical torture apart from threats of it is noted prior to his imprisonment in the mountains and the curse.  Two, the actual dialogue between them is rather different and briefer. Morgoth tries to take advantage of the poorer views by the elves towards humans by offering employment to Húrin but without success. 

The version in the Lay of the Children of Húrin is more similar to the Narn and Silm. There is more extended contact between Morgoth and Húrin (though the contents of their talk is still different). It’s also perhaps the most vivid in descriptions of torture and imprisonment and the only version where actual methods of torment are mentioned or implied (namely whips and brands). 

I definitely want to go into this version more later! As always please feel free to ask more! I will also go into more versions throughout HoME of both these storylines if there’s interest!

Final notes:

No version of Húrin in Angband will be as disturbing to me as Húrin’s imprisonment by his own kin in Brethil in The Wanderings of Húrin

[odyssean-flower]

the winding path of fate chapter 13 sneak peak

(this is the second half of the first part. I want to rewrite the first half. tbh i'm thinking of posting the first part of chapter 13 since it is relatively long. ngl i feel like i put too many events in a single chapter sometimes. will put up a poll tomorrow when i finish the rewrites.)

With the new day and the cozy safety of your room, the events of last night seemed like they happened a lifetime ago. The fear had mostly subsided, leaving mortification and regret in its wake, especially as everyone was acting so considerate towards you. Looking back, you had no idea what you were thinking, and you realized once again just how lucky you had been.

Your ankle’s swelling had gone down considerably the next day, but it still hurt whenever you put even the slightest bit of pressure on it, so you spent most of the day in bed, reading books, drawing, or staring out the window at the gray sky. Your knee didn’t hurt quite as much either, but you still had to change the dressing regularly. You weren’t without company, though, as Marie sat with you in your room often, bringing you food and helping you put away your newly bought clothes in your closet. She had been horrified when you came home last night, injured. “Oh, Madame, you should have asked someone to get me!” she had lamented. “The streets at night are no place for a young lady to walk by herself!”

Marie wasn’t the only visitor to your room. The Melusines, including those who hadn’t gone shopping with you, also came to see you throughout the day. You supposed that Neuvillette told them about you, for they all brought you cakes and other desserts as get-well presents (you also suspected that they also reported back to Neuvillette about your condition, for when you mentioned to one Melusine how you would like to drink some Fonta, your wish was granted by the next Melusine who visited. However, she also heartily recommended that you drink water from Snezhnaya instead, which held a coolness that was good against swelling, and if you wished, you could ask Marie to fetch a bottle of it for you from Monsieur Neuvillette’s personal stash. She also added that you need not hesitate to ask, as he had more than one bottle. Perhaps all Melusines shared his specific tastes in water, but you didn’t quite believe that was the case).

Rhemia and the other Melusines who had been with you yesterday had been the most distressed upon seeing you bedridden. “I’ll stick to you like glue from now on, Madame! No criminal will escape my sights!” Rhemia had declared, and her sisters nodded vigorously in agreement.

“There really is no need for that,” you tried to decline her offer. Privately, you thought that there wasn’t much a Melusine could do against muggers anyways. “The whole incident only happened because I was careless and in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’ll be much more careful next time, so I doubt it will happen again. Just because I’m Neuvillette’s wife, it doesn’t mean that I deserve special treatment or anything of the sort. And if he put you up to this, then—”

Rhemia blinked at you in confusion. “But this has nothing to do with Monsieur Neuvillette. Not entirely, anyways.”

“It doesn’t?” Now you were confused.

“Nope! I’d do this for all the people important to me! Oh, but I guess you’re more than that, since you’re married to Monsieur Neuvillette! That would make you our mother, I suppose.”

“Um…” There was the m-word again. You considered correcting Rhemia, but she continued on, seemingly not noticing your discomfort.

“You’re always so kind and patient with us, just like Monsieur Neuvillette. You greet us whenever you see us, and you always ask us about our days and listen to our troubles. Oh, and Madame, you’re such a good teacher too! I’ve gotten so much better at drawing humans thanks to your lessons!” Rhemia turned to her friends. “Am I right?”

Her friends nodded enthusiastically. They began recounting all the times you’ve spent with them.

“I’m glad to hear that you all think of me as your friend,” you said after they finished, a little embarrassed but also pleased. You hadn’t expected them to remember so much about you. But you felt a little guilty as well. At first, you decided to become friendly with the Melusines because everyone knew that Neuvillette treasured them greatly and you wanted to be in his good graces so that he wouldn’t have any reason to kick you out. They had always been the ones to come up to you first, especially in the first few weeks after your marriage, and while you didn’t consider yourself to be a particularly friendly and warm person, even you weren’t heartless enough to be cold to such a cheerful race of creatures.

“It’s not just us! I’m sure all the Melusines in the Court of Fontaine feel the same way. You’re just as important to us as Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Oh…” Looking at their bright, earnest faces, you didn’t know what to say. Your eyes suddenly became misty. Before this marriage, you hadn’t really given much mind to Melusines. They were just the public servants you would occasionally pass by on the street. But now that you were connected to them through Neuvillette, you were belatedly learning just how wonderful they were.

“Thank you,” you said at last, patting each of them on the head. Your hand still stung a little from last night, but you ignored it. “It means a lot to me that you think so highly of me. Truly. Still, you don’t need to follow me around. If I ever need help, I promise that I will come straight to you. And…I hope that you would all come to the sunflower viewing party we’re holding here next month.”

“Of course, Madame! We wouldn’t miss it for anything!” the Melusines chirped in unison.

By evening, the deluge of visitors had finally ended. You sank into your pillows, feeling exhausted. You weren’t used to having so many people fuss over you. It was unfamiliar territory, one that you weren’t quite sure how to navigate.

Still, as you gazed at the teetering pile of confectionary boxes covered in Melusine stickers on your bedside table and remembered all the get-well wishes you received, a rush of warmth flooded your heart. How did I get so lucky? You wondered. Perhaps even after I leave Neuvillette, we can still be friends…

As you were lost in your thoughts, Marie came into your room again.

“Oh, Madame, I completely forgot to give you this because of everything that happened yesterday. It appears to be from your family.”

Marie handed you an envelope made of thick, creamy paper. You recognized the stationery as the kind used by your father for formal correspondences, and the address written in familiar, flowery cursive on the front was indeed that of your family’s house.

“Ah, that would be from my sister,” you said, tearing the envelope open and taking out the contents. The enveloped contained two cards made of similarly thick paper. They both had an elaborately drawn border of Lumidouce Bells and Rainbow Roses and had an invitation written in the center. This was new.

You are cordially invited

To a celebration

Honoring

Justine’s nineteenth birthday

Semi-formal attire requested (Floral themed outfits are preferred)

P.S. Sister, please tell me if Monsieur Neuvillette has any allergies or requires any accommodations!

“Ugh…” you groaned, putting your palm over your face. “I still haven’t gotten her a present yet!”

That had been the cause of this trouble in the first place, and yet you hadn’t even accomplished your goal in the end.

While we’re on this topic, shouldn’t she have sent the invitations much earlier if she wanted people to RSVP? It’s just like her to do things last minute! And why is she acting like it’s already decided that Neuvillette’s coming?

“Marie, could you please fetch me my pen and paper?” you asked the housekeeper. After you received them, you began to write a reply to tell Justine that while you were coming, Neuvillette definitely wasn’t. But just as you got to that last part, you paused. The idea of the Chief Justice attending a teenage girl’s birthday party all the way out in the countryside was absurd, of course. You tried to picture him sitting at your family’s worn dining table, singing “Happy Birthday” eating the butterscotch cake your housekeeper always made for birthdays, all the while fending off the barrage of questions from your family and friends. I can’t imagine it! It’s just too ridiculous!

It would be better if he didn’t have too much contact with your family, in order to avoid them asking too many questions, and to make the eventual divorce go smoothly.

He rarely even attended the far more glamorous functions of high society, so something like this would be out of the question. His answer would go without asking.

Or would it?

You didn’t really know why you were entertaining the idea. Perhaps being with Neuvillette these past few months had greatly inflated your sense of self-importance—but then again, you thought that the two of you had gotten close enough where asking him wouldn’t be so preposterous. You were friends, and wouldn’t it be ruder to not at least extend an invitation to a friend? Wasn’t the act of asking in itself greatly appreciated?

And…there was a little part of you that would like to show him around your hometown. It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and all you could see for miles around were fields of wildflowers and mountains—a common sight in Fontaine—but there were a few spots that you had fond memories of. Since Neuvillette showed you his favorite places, it was only right to repay the favor, even if none of your favorite spots were as exciting as the giant willow tree or Merusea Village.

Recent events, including the latest incident, had taught you the folly of making assumptions, even for seemingly inconsequential things like this. Just because you thought

The worst thing he could say is no, you reasoned to yourself. And it’s not the end of the world if he does. Sure, Justine will be disappointed, but everyone knows how busy and reclusive Neuvillette is, so she’ll understand if he declines.

As if on cue, you heard the front door open downstairs. Neuvillette had returned home. After a brief conversation with Marie, the sound of his heels briskly ascending the stairs and heading in the direction of your room until it stopped in front of your door. There was a soft knock.

“Madame, may I come in?”

“Yes,” you called out, and Neuvillette opened the door and stepped inside your room. He was about to close the door behind him, but then he looked at you. A thought seemed to cross his mind, and he left the door ajar.

Um, why is he just standing there? You stared at him, confused when he didn’t take a seat right away. He simply stared at you, his gaze a mix of worry, uncertainty, and something else. For a second, you wondered if he was that caught off guard by your dishevelled appearance that was a result of staying in bed all day. It took you a minute to realize that he was waiting for you to ask him to sit down. Really, this man… I thought we’re past such formalities.

“You can pull up a chair,” you said, nodding towards the cushioned chairs in the center of the room. He complied, clasping his hands in his lap after settling in his seat and leaning towards you slightly. He stared at you intently, as if afraid that you would disappear before his eyes. You squirmed uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of the fact that you were wearing only your rumpled nightgown and that you were lying in bed. You surreptitiously pulled your covers up to your chest.

Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve ever had a man who isn’t my father in my room, you mused, though you were also aware that this wasn’t really the occasion to think about such things. Well, I guess it technically isn’t the first time, since he carried me back here when I fell asleep in his study that one time. First time that I was conscious, then.

Thankfully, Neuvillette broke the silence and (once again) prevented your thoughts from going in strange directions.

“The robbers will be tried in court shortly,” he said. “It will be a short, simple trial, considering the number of witnesses at the scene. I will not be presiding over it, however.”

“I see,” you nodded. “I’m very glad to hear that.”

Despite that, his brow remained creased with worry. “How are you feeling, Madame? Should I take you to the hospital after all?” he asked.

“No, that really won’t be necessary,” you shook your head vigorously. “It’s only a bad sprain. I’ll probably be able to walk again tomorrow.”

“It is highly unwise to rush your recovery. What will happen if you worsen your injury? The meeting with Furina can be postponed—”

“Don’t postpone it,” you said, leaning over to grab his sleeve and stared into his eyes. “The sooner we get this over with, the better. I’ll drag myself up the steps of the Palais if I have to.”

Neuvillette looked like he wanted to argue, but he swallowed back whatever he was going to say. “There’s no need to exert yourself in such a way,” he said at last. “I would be happy to carry you into my office, if you should ask.”

“Carry me into your office, huh?” you leaned back against your pillow with a smile. You sometimes wondered if Neuvillette realized how unintentionally funny he could be. “Wouldn’t that give people the wrong idea?”

“You do have a point. Then, I propose that we arrive at my office early in the morning, before the Palais employees come into work.”

“How about instead of carrying me, I borrow your cane?”

Neuvillette seemed to be pondering your words seriously. “But that would also run into the problem of rousing people’s suspicions. Someone might wonder why my cane is in your possession.”

You turned your head away to smother your laugh.

“It seems that the Melusines have made their visits,” Neuvillette said, looking at the tower of boxes on your bedside table.

“Yes, they were all very sweet. Although, I’m not sure how they expect me to eat all these…” You liked dessert and all, but not to this extent. Perhaps you could bring some of them back home with you to share with your family and friends.

“Clorinde also asked me to pass on her well wishes to you. She was very sorry to hear what happened.”

“I see. Please thank her for me, and tell her not to blame herself for my foolishness.”

“I will do that,” Neuvillette nodded, then was silent for a moment. His solemn gaze as he looked at you made it seem like you were diagnosed with some terminal illness rather than merely spraining your ankle badly and hitting your knee against the ground.

“Neuvillette?” you called out his name in hopes of getting rid of that grave look in his eyes. It made your chest feel heavy.

“Ah, by the way, I consulted with a friend of mine about your injury. She made this drink for you,” Neuvillette brandished a green, ridiculously adorable cup from out of nowhere. It reminded of you of the cups toddlers drank juice out of. “She says that it will help your body recover quicker.”

“A friend of yours?” you repeated, your interest piqued. While Neuvillette would happily talk to you about the Melusines for hours on end and occasionally talk about his (human) acquaintances, you had never heard him call anyone his friend before.

“Yes. She is the head nurse the Fortress of Meropide’s infirmary, and one of the kindest and considerate people I know. I hope the two of you can meet one day.”

“That’s high praise coming from you,” you said, making a mental note of this mysterious friend. “Why don’t we invite her to the sunflower viewing as well?”

“What a wonderful idea. I shall do just that,” he said, then held out the cup to you. “Now, Madame, you should drink this.”

“Alright,” you took a sip of the drink and nearly spat it out. “Bleakness” was the only way to describe the taste. It almost made you want to get out of bed and walk so that the pain could distract you from the torture of your tastebuds. For a heartbeat, you wondered if Neuvillette was trying to poison you. “A-Are you sure this is h-healthy?”

“Of course,” Neuvillette said, looking baffled by your question. “I’ve drank it on numerous occasions, and I’ve always found myself quite refreshed and invigorated afterwards. I asked Sigewinne to make it taste more palatable for you, as I’m aware that her concoctions are not for everyone. She truly hopes it makes you feel better.”

This is palatable? You thought. Did I do something to this Sigewinne person? Whoever she was, she shared the same incomprehensible sense of taste as Neuvillette.

Speaking of Neuvillette, he was looking at you expectantly. Oh Archons, is he expecting me to finish it in front of him? Just as you were trying to come up with an excuse to not drink it, those efforts were dashed by his next words. “Is it not to your liking?” he said quietly. You were vaguely aware that it had started raining outside.

“I…um…” you didn’t know what to say or where to look. You suddenly had the impression that a large puppy was at your bedside, staring at you with sad eyes. Gah, he must be doing this on purpose! Either that, or he must really be fond of that friend of his. “Well, when it comes to medicine, it’s not really a matter of liking it or not liking it, right? A-And since you’ve gone to the trouble of asking your friend to make this for me, it would be rude of me to not drink it, right?” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself.

“If you do not like it, then you do not need to force yourself—”

“No, no, I mean, I’ve taken plenty of bitter medicine when I was little, and I survived. This will be no different,” you brought the straw up to your mouth and held your breath. Let’s just get this over quickly, you thought, then emptied the cup in one go. Fortunately, there wasn’t much to drink. However, the lumpy texture was still a struggle to swallow. You felt as though you had just eaten concrete.

“That was…certainly something I’ve never drank before,” you managed, flopping back onto your pillows to recover. You opened a box of lemon tarts and shoved one into your mouth to get rid of the taste. Honestly, you wanted to drink some Fonta instead, but decided that it might be a bit uncouth. Of course, some might say that it was unladylike to eat cake in bed in the first place, but you doubted those people ever had the misfortune of having to drink that so-called “healthy drink.” “Please thank your friend for me.”

Neuvillette nodded, watching you as you ate a second, then a third tart. Lemon wasn’t your favorite flavor, but anything would do right now. YYou offered one to him, but he politely declined. His gaze dropped to the papers in your lap. “…Were you writing a letter to someone?” he asked.

“Oh!” you had almost forgotten about that. “My sister Justine sent us invitations to her birthday party. It’s a bit short notice, but it’s in a few days.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard you mention it before,” Neuvillette took a pause, as if he had only just taken in the entirety of your words. “Did you say ‘invitations’?”

“Yes,” you nodded. Your hands suddenly felt sweaty. What were you so nervous about? “Since we’re, you know, husband and wife, it’s only natural that invitations would be sent to the both of us. Funny thing is, Justine thinks you’re already coming and has asked me if you require any accommodations, but of course you haven’t given any answer as to whether or not you’ll be attending the party. I-I know that you usually don’t attend public functions, but birthdays parties in our party don’t tend to be very extravagant affairs. It’s usually just a small gathering of close friends and relatives. We can even make everyone sign a contract of confidentiality, if you want. You don’t have to bring any gifts either. I think your presence will be a gift in itself for my sister, haha…”

Oh no, I’m rambling again…why do I keep doing this in front of him? You toyed with the edge of your comforter, suddenly too nervous to look at his expression. Would there be a look of disgust there? Why would there be? Your brain argued back. You haven’t asked anything offensive!

Finally, you dared to sneak a peek. He was staring at your face, as though scrutinizing it for answers to a difficult question.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, thinking that he must be trying to find a way to let you down gently.

“…Do you want me to attend?” he said at last.

You hadn’t expected that question. “What do you mean?” you frowned.

“What I mean is…would it please you—would it make you happy if I attended your sister’s party?”

Ah, so the answer is no, then, you thought. That was expected.

“Well, it’s not my party, so my opinion doesn’t matter,” you said slowly. “Justine would like for you to come, but there is no obligation on your part to say yes. If you like, I can make up some excuse about your absence to tell everyone.”

“But your opinion does matter quite a lot to me,” Neuvillette said. He was oddly insistent about this. “I would like to hear what you think.”

“As I said, it’s not my party. It will not affect me one way or another should you choose to come or not,” Realizing that you might be sounding too harsh, you softened your next words. “It’s okay to say no. I’m sure everyone will understand if you can’t come.”

Neuvillette stared at you for a long while, his eyes unreadable. You could hear the rain pounding against your window, and you turned your head to it. The sky was a dark, leaden gray. It’s been raining pretty frequently these days, hasn’t it? You thought distantly.

“Unfortunately, I have a trial to oversee on that day,” he said. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him clench and unclench his fists. You wondered why he didn’t mention the trial earlier. “I do not think it would be wise for me to attend, in any case. It would be a needless distraction.”

“Alright then. I’ll tell my sister you can’t attend,” you said lightly, then turned your attention to your unfinished letter. You picked up your pen and began to write. Focusing your mind on producing the words helped distract from the tumult of emotions within you—emotions that you didn’t know quite what to make of. Was it relief you felt, or disappointment? Relief for what? Disappointment about what? You couldn’t tell at all.

In any case, it’s over and done with, you told yourself firmly, signing the letter with a flourish. Maybe too big of a flourish. I’ll post this first thing in the morning—that is, if I can walk by then.

You glanced up to see Neuvillette still sitting there. He was drinking from his cup, but he was watching you over the rim. You had long gotten used to him studying you like you were some kind of strange specimen, but it was still awkward, especially in this silence. Your room, which had always felt needlessly spacious to you, suddenly felt very small.

Just as you were debating whether or not to fake a sleepy yawn and ask him to leave, he spoke again.

“You haven’t yet bought a birthday present for your sister, yes?”

“That’s right,” you replied, wondering what he was getting at.

“I won’t have any time tomorrow, but I do have an hour or two to spare after our meeting with Furina. We shall go pick out a present together then.”

You gaped at him. “Are you serious?”

“Why would I not be? It is customary for married couples to give presents as a pair, is it not?”

“I…suppose so,” you said. Neuvillette was so hard to grasp sometimes. Sometimes, he was clear as a fresh water spring. Other times, like now, you had the sense that you were staring into the sea, unable to see all the way to its bottom.

“Then it is settled,” he said with a note of satisfaction in his voice, then leaned forward and cupped your cheek. It happened so quickly that you didn’t even have a chance to react. “W-Wha…” was all you could manage to stammer out. There was only a millimeter of space between your faces. Your heart sped up a little when his gaze moved to your lips. His thumb moved to the corner of your lip and brushed against it. It took you a moment to realize that he had flicked off a cake crumb.

“I still have some work to finish, so I’m afraid I’ll have to take my leave now,” he informed you, removing his hand from your cheek. Despite that, you could still feel the smooth silk of his glove and the latent strength in his long fingers. “Please rest and get well soon, Madame.”

You could only nod as you gazed up at him. He stared into your eyes for a moment longer before turning on his heel and leaving your room. It was only when you heard his footsteps recede to the other side of the house that you realized that it was no longer raining.

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Still Subject To Change Chapter 2 (NEW)

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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Don't like don't read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.

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Silently stalking closer i planned to just grab it and get back to where i left Robin i was startled by a Loud shout of. 

“HELP HELP I’M KIDNAPPED SOMEONE HELP THEY TIED TO A TREE”

The deer of course ran away as soon as the wailing started and I was left once again without anything to eat.

At this point it was a wonder that i did not feel any Hunger Pains but i sure WAS feeling Angry now as this was the second time i got interrupted while getting something to eat.

All but Dashing through the surrounding greenery not caring if the branches cut my skin I waltzed into the clearing I had left Robin in, who was still shouting but stopped when he saw me.

Yanking him from the tree and holding him in front of my face i hissed angrily 

“What’s the big idea? you WANT some Monster to come get you? Because of your screaming I lost the Deer i was hunting so I didn’t get anything to eat yet again! do that one more time and you’re the one to replace the meat, got it?!”

He was looking at me thoroughly horrified and with tears beginning to form in his eyes while he shook in my hand struggling to breathe from me holding him a bit too tight

“I’m sorry! I'm Sorry! I saw a Road and thought if someone was there they would get me free! I’m sorry! i didn’t know you already had seen something I'm sorry! please don’t kill me”

He cried out, starting to weep softly to himself.

Looking at the weeping boy in my grasp I started to feel a bit guilty for scaring him like this. 

I changed how I held him so he could breathe easier and instead cupped him to my chest next to my heart, sighing. 

“I’m not gonna kill you, just don’t scream like that again okay?”

I tried to calm him down while not looking at him.

The entirety of this nonsense was Harder than I thought, I never had to take care of another living being and I did not know what to do.

“Look i apologize for shouting at you but i got angry and i really haven’t had anything of sustenance in three days I'm surprised my stomach didn’t just eat itself yet”

He was still curled up but he stopped weeping into my shirt but he kept refusing to look at me.

“Also, you mentioned a road? I don’t think there’s supposed to be anything this far out? Can you point me to it?”

He looked up and pointed towards a place a bit down the slight slope we were on and I could actually see a sort of path there.

“Can you stay quiet this time when I check that out?”

I asked him softly and started walking to where he pointed at me trying to be as quiet as I could once again.

Robin still didn’t really look at me but he did keep quiet until we reached what did look like a small road in the middle of a forest but it was far more muddy than any human made path and had no footprints that could belong to any sort of human.

It did however have lots of animal prints like Deer and what i assumed to be wolves

“this is an animal trail! oh that’s actually lucky!”

Robin finally looked at me, suddenly seeming a bit more eager to do something.

“So you mean we can set a trap here?”

“i guess but i have no idea how to make one though”

I admitted to him and tried to think of other ways to catch something, Maybe I should try to just ambush it?

“I know how to make one! i can tell you how, but uhh you need the rope for that”

I looked back at him and considered what he told me,

On one hand he could use this to try to escape again.

On the other hand, the trap I’d be making had a chance to actually work and I could still just hold him to prevent him from running away.

“Alright fine if you know how to do it tell me”

I started unraveling the rope around him as I spoke and made sure to hold onto him as the last of it fell down.

“oh.. well you need two tree trunks and some sticks also a rock”

he started to explain while he clung to one of my fingers that were holding him and just generally tried to move his arms that had been bound since yesterday.

Picking up everything he asked me one handed and putting it in a heap next to the trail, I still had no idea what type of trap this would make.

“soo now explain to me what to do and i will build it as you tell me but no funny business got it?”

He nodded and started instructing me on how to build the Trap. 

As I went along with his instruction I realized that the Trap consisted of the principle of just smashing whatever walked through between the two trunks I had to get.

Well that would definitely be effective albeit a bit Grim.

“I think it looks good! you’re not a bad builder!”

Robin’s praise at my building skills caught me a bit off guard but I regained my composure just as fast.

“Now we wait somewhere and for the love of all the rivers of Hell be quiet this time!”

He nodded and put his hands over his mouth to show that he would be as silent as possible.

looking around and deciding to just walk around a fair bit away from the trap to wait if it catched anything, as well as try to find some edible plants in the meantime.

Walking through between the stocky old trees while Robin just hung limply in my grasp, apparently rather bored I eventually found a patch of dandelions not too far from the trap.

“Hey look, those are edible, do you want some?”

Robin looked at when i was pointing and the asked confusedly

“they’re edible? i thought they were just some weeds”

“no they’re perfectly edible i think some of the poorer people in Tunstead used them to make salads and i’ve had my fair share of them too”

I told him and proceeded to sit down next to the Flowers, ripping a few of their stems.

Gods the Blossom looked absolutely miniscule in my Hand, a single one didn’t even cover my fingertip anymore when they used to fit perfectly in the middle of my palm.

Sitting Cross Legged on the grass I set Robin in front of me.

“don’t run i WILL catch you”

“i don’t think i could outrun you, your legs are longer than i’m tall”

He also sat on the ground and started ripping flowers out of the dirt and started fiddling with them.

“Donovan? What did you do that the Lady at the market flipped out like that? the way she screamed made it sound like you stabbed someone to death or something”

Ah yeah that question had to come up sometime as neither of the Guards could have actually seen what had happened

“i stole a piece of Bread and the Lady saw my pointy ears so i guess that's enough to make someone scream bloody murder”

I decided to answer honestly as there really was no point in lying and I’ve never been one to outright deceive people.

“thats…Thats it? with how the Lady was screaming it sounded like you murdered her Husband or something”

he was still fiddling with the Dandelions in his hands but seemed a lot more at ease upon finding out that i had not killed anyone

I continued picking up the flowers and stuffing them into my mouth even if it was such a small amount compared to my new size.

Glancing down now and again to make sure Robin stayed put, I saw him having that 100 yard stare again while he just messed with the flowers in his hands.

I was not sure if i should say something or nudge him but he did say that this happened rather frequently so i left it be.

At least until a Booming sound echoed through the forest making me flinch and he let out a rather adorable high pitched squeak.

I decided not to comment on it and instead tried to think of something that could make such a sound while scooping him into my Hands once again while standing up.

“uhh i think that was the trap? should we look?”

Robin pointed out nervously and shakily held the flowers he was fiddling with a few seconds ago which I now saw had been made into a Flower Crown, which fell to the ground as I stood up.

“sure, i hope it got something in it though”

I did really hope the trap got something as I’ve been running on basically nothing for three days now, even if strangely enough I still did not feel any hunger whatsoever, pushing it off as stress from being a Giant I went back to where the trap was with Robin in my hand.

This was getting inconvenient but my shirt had no pockets so I would just have to deal with it.

Getting to the Trap it did indeed work as there was something that Resembled a Boar even if it had its skull smashed in by the Tree Trunks that were used to build this thing.

The only recognizable feature in its face were the Tusks.

The overall size of this thing was also impressive as it was longer than Robin was tall, about seven feet in length.

“Jackpot, that thing got a lot of meat on it don’t you think?”

I grinned down at Robin who was staring at the Animal with an unreadable expression.

“i didn’t think this would have enough strength to just pulverize a skull”

He admitted and looked in sort of horrified realization at it while I tried to pry our catch free one handed.

I succeeded in pulling the Boar out between the Logs but the motion caused blood to spill from its smashed skull running over my fingers and making the Scarlet liquid stick to my hand.

Gross, I hoped I could find a way to clean that.

Walking away with both hands occupied, I went back to the little clearing the Dandelions were in and nabbed a few branches with the hand that held the boar so we could make a fire.

However, upon setting things up I realized that I was way too big to properly prepare the meat.

Robin was staying unusually quiet and just kept staring at the Boar before he asked

“Can you carve it at your size? Do you even have a knife?”

“No to both of those but if i give you a knife and you promise not to use it to attack me would you prepare it? i would probably just mess it up with my too big Hands”

I knew giving him anything sharp at all would be a risk but at this point it had been three and a half days since i had anything to eat and i knew that a body couldn’t just function on nothing.

Reaching into my pocket and Giving him his Dagger back for the time being I set him in front of the Boar so he could get to work while i tried to make a fire, 

but I never took my eye off of him for long to ensure he would not suddenly run up and stab me.

It took quite a few tries but eventually i managed to get a fire going just as Robin told me he was done

“What am I supposed to do with the guts? i don’t want to leave them next to the Campsite, who knows what monster might get Lured by the smell”

He did have a point in that so I started to dig a hole to bury the bloody entrails.

As Robin stood up I noticed that his front was soaked in Boarblood so I took my Handkerchief out once again.

“you’re also kinda bloody wash up with this while i cook”

I tossed the cloth at him and he started trying to get all of the blood off himself with the oversized fabric while we waited for the meat to cook.

When the meat was finally done and I took it off the fire the Sky had started to take on a magenta hue which only intensified as I extinguished the flames with some of the dirt I had dug up earlier.

Not really knowing how to share this thing I simply ripped off a leg and gave it to Robin who took it rather awkwardly from me and tried to just bite chunks out of it while I tried to think of a way to eat my portion as I could not possibly pull the meat off the bones.

In the end I just shoved it into my mouth, biting the Boar in half, crunching on it firmly, easily destroying bones that would have been too large to even be put in my mouth before. 

Robin just looked at me with a rather horrified expression as I stuffed the second half of the Boar in my mouth.

He only managed to eat about half of the leg, maybe a bit less and just held the leftovers out to me.

“im done, you can have this also”

I carefully took the half eaten leg from him with two fingers and devoured it in a single bite.

“so uh i think we should camp here for the night cause i don’t want to walk through these woods when it’s dark”

I went to take the rope out again so we could repeat yesterday’s spiel.

“Can we not tie me up this time? i hate trying to sleep while bound its uncomfy and i get that pins and needles sensation in my arms”

He tried to persuade me so I wouldn’t tie him up overnight again but I knew he would bolt the second I closed my eyes even if he had been strangely placid this whole time.

“sorry but no i want to be able to sleep without you running away and getting an entire army to murder me”

I told him as I tied him up, once again using the spare shirt to cover his arms.

He was trying to look Grumpy but it just ended with him making a pouting face again.

“I hope this Night is gonna be warmer, the last one made me freeze my ass off and now the Blanket is all bloody”

“Well you can use me as a giant space heater i guess”

Lying down on my back, I simply put him on my chest and laid a hand over him like a tent so he wouldn’t roll off.

“here this should work, also if we find a river i’ll wash the ‘Blanket’”

“Thank you? though i do hope this night is warmer”

He curled up under my Hand and for a second I got the Mental image of a little mouse but shoved it away.

“i can hear your heart from here”

The quiet admission had me perk my pointy ears as I glanced down at him.

“yeah i guess, i have two of them”

“you what? but I only hear one?”

He looked at me incredulously as I told him about it.

“well yeah only one works, some of my organs are doubled i also have four kidneys, well three now since some fucker drugged me to sell it to an Alchemist, I’m glad i managed to break that guys nose before he gutted me completely”

I chuckled grimly at the memory of lying on a cold table and someone cutting into my side before just punching the guy.

“So you just… have more organs than you need???”

He seemed extremely confused over this.

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it but I still would like to keep my insides… well inside”

I did not know why I was telling him this stuff. 

After all, when the week was over I’d let him run back to Tunstead and would never see him again.

Though it had been a long time since i could talk to something that was capable of responding so i guess i was just bored with the silence.

I closed my eyes and laid there for a bit knowing that Robin would not be able to get down with me literally as his mattress.

Shortly before i conked out i could feel him lying his head over my heart, glancing down i saw him having that distant stare again, and after about a minute he closed his eyes as his breathing fell into a calmer rhythm indicating that he had fallen asleep.

That was fast, I thought before falling asleep myself.

The next morning I was awoken by sunlight hitting my face and I tried to get up before remembering that Robin was still on my chest.

Looking down i saw that he was still sleeping so i nudged him with finger to get him to wake up

“mmm nrmm ten more minutes”

he just rolled over and gripped my shirt as if trying to use it as a blanket.

“Wake up, sun is out and i want to get going”

I nudged him again and this time he groggily lifted his head blinking owlishly at me

“Wwha? oh… OH! uh good morning?”

He tried to awkwardly Greet me as he tried to get up but fell over as he was still bound with the rope.

I nabbed him off my chest before he could tumble down from it.

“good morning to you as well i thought Guards were supposed to get up at dawn?”

“Uh usually Arthur wakes me up im not a morning person”

He yawned and tried to stretch as much as he could before the rope stopped him.

“Well let’s get going then i want to see if we can find water today, the Waterskin you have is almost empty and i want to wash the Blanket you used”

I really hoped we would find a river or at least a pond today so I could also wash my Handkerchief / Robins Blanket as it had started to just flake off bits of dried blood.

Standing up and making sure Robin didn’t fall off I stretched my muscles and tried to figure out in which direction to go to find some water, in the end I decided to just continue the path I took yesterday.

Picking up everything including the ragged Boarskin as it could be useful later I started to Marching troughs between the trees.

At some point i heard a distant noise like something falling down, At first I thought that it was just a random animal until it happened again and after a few seconds again.

“Do you hear that? any idea what that could be?” 

I asked Robin who shook his head and stared into the direction the noise was coming from.

“What if it’s one of the monsters that live here? i don’t wanna go there”

He all but whispered to me.

“I’m going to check it out but you can wait here if you want”

I was Really curious but I also wanted to make sure that IF there was something this close to us we wouldn’t be ambushed out of nowhere by a being we had never seen before and wouldn’t know how to defend against.

“you’re insane! What if you die? what if it nabs ME and runs away to kill me???” 

Robin tried to get me to not check out a potentially deadly creature but I really didn’t want to end up surprised in the middle of the night by whatever that was.

“its fine, and i said you could stay here while i look what that is im just gonna put you in a tree again”

I picked a random tree and tied Robin between two branches before stepping back and turning to face the noise.

“I’ll be right back don’t worry it’s probably just another Boar or another big animal”

I tried to reassure him before leaving in the direction the Sound was coming from quietly prowling through the Forest.

Hitting my toe on a protruding boulder I cursed under my breath as I got closer to the source of the Thumping noise only to see something that at first glance looked like a fox with deer antlers on its head. 

On a second look it was the size of a horse, had hooves, a cow tail and something that looked to be mushrooms growing out of its back.

I’d never seen something like this before and it was currently headbutting an old tree that was wider than I was tall resulting in the thumping noise I had heard.

As it assaulted the tree branches fell off to the ground, and I could see that they were almost spilling over with maggots.

Eww.

The Maggots didn’t stay there for long as a flock of magpies immediately descended upon it picking it clean in just a minute if not less.

I had no idea what I was watching but decided it best to just leave, backing up I stepped on a branch, the snapping noise alerting the fox/deer creature who whipped its head around in my direction.

I didn’t dare breathe as it looked at me with a head that at first resembled that of a Wolf but with four eyes and a pair of tusks, it blinked and then ran away in the opposite direction, the Magpies following swiftly.

I had no idea what I just witnessed but I did not have time to think about it either as a wordless, blood curdling scream echoed through the woods coming from the place I had left Robin in.

Immediately assuming that there were more monsters that might not be as shy as the one i just saw i sprinted in an adrenaline fueled dash back to where i left him not caring that my face got cut by branches and only shielding my eyes when necessary.

Arriving within seconds where the screaming was coming from, I could at first not make out any sort of danger just Robin still dangling from the tree but screaming like he was murdered.

Coming to a halt next to him and trying to figure out what was happening I saw that a big Spider was climbing down a thread in front of his face and him trying as best as he could to stay as far away as possible.

Not recognizing the species but assuming that it must be extremely venomous for Robin to scream like this, I snatched him away from the spider, not daring to touch the Arachnid in case it had enough venom to kill me.

Stepping a fair distance away and putting him on the ground while trying to see if Robin had been bit by it, but he tried to curl up and had started to hyperventilate

“hey! HEY did it bite you?!”

Nudging him I tried to at least get him to tell me if he was bit but he continued to Hyperventilate with tears in his eyes.

“Okay calm down the thing is gone you can calm down now!”

He didn’t seem to hear me or anything at all really and I worried that he would lose consciousness if he kept breathing like this.

“Okay, try to copy me? it’ll help i promise”

I just hoped it would work as he started to wheeze between his Breaths i tried to show him a breathing pattern that would help calm him down.

Breath in four seconds.

Hold for seven.

Then out for eight.

I repeated this until he started to mimic it and eventually his breathing normalized.

He was still wheezing a bit but he was getting enough air now and slowly going back to normal.

PREVIOUS / NEXT / OVERSIGHT

[basuralindo]

YHMR chapter 20 finally up!!

Thank you all for being so patient with the updates lately, I've been impatient to get this one finished, but here it is at last! More commentary under the cut

-So, I guess everyone has their own unique approach to consent when it comes to Jamil. Azul, who's both horrified at the idea of unintentionally forcing Jamil into something and so over being the one begging for scraps of attention from people who find him repulsive, has decided to wait stubbornly for Jamil to prove what he wants by coming to him. Floyd, being Floyd, figured "why is everyone playing chess with this when I can just make him tell me what he wants straight up?". And Jade… having taken notes from both of their stories and observations, decided that Jamil couldn't be trusted to give an honest answer and therefore the most efficient and surefire way around it was to push him past his comfort level and see what he acts like when he's lying.

-Joke's on Jade, Jamil is also Very Aware of microexpressions, and can catch his subtle changes in demeanor just as well.

-I know I've mentioned the idea of Jade having sensory issues before, but now I'm adding touch repulsion because I just can't get enough drama (or representation tbh. I've seen like three touch repulsed characters in my entire life).

-believe it or not, I actually try hard to make sure not every character is perfectly capable of raising a single eyebrow. Jamil kinda does it in canon, and also just seems like the type who'd master the art of annihilating people with a single judgy expression since he can't talk back. There's no way Floyd wouldn't figure out how, and no way Jade would let him be the only one capable. So really that just left Azul as the only one in the relationship who can't, and that feels like it'd be exactly his luck.

-Was the oral agreement kiss a happy coincidence, or did Jade introduce the term in the hopes of getting Jamil to say "oral"? That's for him to know

-Jamil at it again with the modified curses for basic household tasks. Maybe I'm reaching but I feel like it makes a decent metaphor for everything he could so easily be, vs everything he's had to put effort into contorting himself to become.

-Alsoooo I know the fish are all good cooks, but considering how different food prep must be on the surface, and the way Jade is shown to be very formulaic with new projects and how Azul just, IS, I imagine they started out approaching surface cuisine through research and carefully following recipes, and there's bound to be a lot of practical tricks that they aren't experienced with yet. Which is to say, watching human cooks break rules and wing it with recipes must be new and interesting for them, because while they probably have some theories on how things could work if they tweaked it (like in Floyd's chef vignette), they probably haven't had much time to experiment as much yet

-I'm picturing Jade making the aprons for everyone, half as a joke. Azul's is designed to be cute enough to be embarrassing, but still fitting his tastes enough that he can tell Jade put real thought into it, and Azul loves it for the gesture despite the teasing. He would never let another soul know it exists, and will die when he finds out Jamil's seen it. Floyd's was something Jade knew he would love the second he saw the fabric (it's inspired by this tourist shirt I found)

[dib-thing-wannabe]

The Villain's Untold Moldings Chapter Two

<;<;<prev next>>>

(One again, as I have mentioned in the last chapter, Robot doesn't have his canon design in this fanfic! He has the (more, but definitely not entirely) human design made by @taxlthomas / @itsalldownhillfromherehoney so check it out before you start reading! Also, all chapters will be in my pinned post, despite it not having any tags involving it! Other than that, enjoy reading!)

Memory log 3,671 - Date: Sept. 27, 2015 - Time: 22:36

Romeo is currently making another attempt as to take over the world, starting with our small town as always. He's yelling down to the Pj masks about his plans. They're a team of three, with a boy dressed as a blue cat being named Catboy, another boy dressed as a green gecko named... well, Gecko, and a girl dressed as a red owl named Owlette. They have always stopped Romeo and the other 'nighttime villains', as they call them, from succeeding in their various evil plans, even though I have noticed that they tend to have communication issues between one another.

"-And then, I'll take over the world!! Mwhahahahaha!" Romeo cackled, fully confident in his plans as always.

"Oh, no you'll not!" Catboy yelled from below at him, pointing towards Romeo. "We're going to stop you before you can even start!"

Romeo steps forward a bit so that they could see him better before speaking. "Well, Idiot-boy, I already started! So looks like you've already failed at stopping me, haha!"

Catboy let's out a cat-like growl as Owlette walks behind him, patting his back softly. "Catboy, don't let his teasing get to you! It'll end up distracting you more than it already will!" She told him, trying to calm his anger down. Gecko quickly backs her up, telling him, "Yeah Catboy! It'll only end up bringing you down in the end if you listen to it!"

Catboy, seemingly having not payed attention to either of their words, cuffed his hands around his mouth and yelled, "WELL, THAT DOESN'T MATTER! YOU'LL LOSE THIS FIGHT IN THE END!"

"Oooooh, and how so? You gonna go back in time?" Romeo shouted back, almost instantly.

As they continued to scream at one another, with Romeo mercilessly teasing Catboy as he hurles unaffecting insults at him, with Owlette and Gecko trying to calm Catboy down to no avail, I chuckled softly to myself as I semi-discreetly set up Romeo's machine for him.

"BLAH BLAH BLAH!!" Romeo yelled, before blowing a loud raspberry at Catboy, causing him to let out a dramatic sounding gasp, despite being 100% seriously offended.

Look at him, trying to take over the world, yet he's still only a baby boy. Sure, he may be 10 years old now, but despite my code updating my information, I still can't see him as anything other then when I first saw him.

"Why, I would never!" Catboy yelled again. "Didn't your parents teach you any manners?!"

I froze as I heard the words parents leave his mouth. My metal heart would have sunk to the bottom of my stomach if I had either of them. I turned to look at Romeo, trying to not show my shock and concern.

He stood still and silent for a moment, shocked by his words as well. ".. I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said 'didn't your parents teach you any manners'!" Catboy spat out, still noticeablely irritated. "I'm waiting for your answer."

Romeo stared at him for a moment, before speaking again. "Well, no. They died before I even turned a month old, so they never got the chance to." He said this with full seriousness, though I could tell he wasn't upset about Catboy's statement. Infact, I believe I can see him trying his hardest not to crack a smile.

Catboy's expression went from annoyed and angry to shocked and horrified within seconds as he heard Romeo's words exit his mouth.

"Oh- I-I- um- you-" He tried to stammer out.

"CATBOY!!" His teammates cut him off, also horrified about what had just happened.

"HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW-" He whispered yelled at them, causing Romeo to finally release his pent up laughter about the situation, falling backwards onto the pavement of the buildings roof as he begins to lose control of it.

I let out a quiet sigh, happy to see that his parents death didn't affect him nearly as much as I thought it would, or as much as it had affected myself. I walked up to Romeo, rolling on the ground laughing, holding his stomach as he struggles to contain himself.

"You know Master, you shouldn't laugh about your parents death." I told him, crouching down towards his level as he rolls on the floor.

"Y-Yes, but-" His sentence was stopped by more giggling before continuing, "Y-you gotta admit, his instant regret was p-pretty funny!"

"I wouldn't consider it as funny of all things, but if you say so, Master."

Memory log 3,672 - Date: Sept. 28, 2015 - Time: 03:56

After charging myself for a bit after Romeo's failed attempts, I now have to make an attempt at the hardest thing to do in this town as far as I'm aware: getting Romeo to actually go to bed and sleep.

"Robot, I'm not tired! I don't need any sleep yet!" He whined to me as he rubbed his eyes, resting his head on his work desk.

"Yes you are, Master. You have stayed up all night long, it's technically morning now, and you are literally rubbing your eyes as we speak. Now come here so that I can put you to bed." I tell him as I reach down to pick him up.

"Nooo! I don't wanna!" Romeo said, now trying to get away from me, though isn't putting in much effort as to get away.

"Just because you don't want to, doesn't mean you don't have to." I scooped him up in my arms quickly. "Now come on, it's your bedtime."

He lets out a groan as I begin to carry him, though doesn't do much as to prevent this. It's unusual from him, considering that he hates me forcing him to go to bed when he's working on an invention, especially when he had just lost against the Pj Masks.

"Fine.. but on one condition!" He stated.

"What may that condition be?" I asked him, curious about what he could be trying to get me to do for him.

He stayed silent for a moment before speaking up. ".. what were my parents like? You know, before they, like, died. Who exactly were they?"

His questions made me freeze for a moment. He never was the curious type when it came to his parents, so this was something I wasn't expecting.

"... Well, let's see.. who do you want to hear about first? Your mother or your father?" I told him as I continued walking to his bedroom.

"My dad, I'd like to hear about my dad first." Romeo responded, resting his head against my chest.

"Hmmm... He had the same raven colored hair as you, even his hair was styled like yours. He had these bright green eyes, and fair skin, again being passed down to you. Your father was obviously an inventor, just like you. Else I wouldn't have been here to take care of you. He was a caring man, always offering his help to anyone who could possibly have needed it. Though he didn't seem to like interacting with people that much, especially when he wasn't familiar with them. He often liked being in the dark, he said that the bright light hurt his eyes otherwise. You actually share a lot of his physical and personality traits." I spoke to him, until I finally opened the door to his room.

"Really? So I gained all of my dad's traits?" He asked me, with those big blue eyes of his.

"Well.. I wouldn't say all of his traits. You got your white streak and your blue eyes from your mother. In fact, now that I'm thinking about it... your personality, besides being an evil genius, is very similar to hers." I stated, setting him down on his bed. "Take off your lab coat, Master. I know it's not comfortable for you to sleep in."

"Fine, fine. But how is my personality similar to hers?" Romeo asked again, taking off his coat.

"You both can definitely be kind to others, but you tend to choose not to be, as they weren't kind to you or someone you care about in the past. You tend to be jokesters, but in a way where it's mainly yourselves who are laughing. You both also share an intense love for older styled thing. Music, clothing, architecture, all of it." I explained, crouching down closer to Romeo.

"Huh... well, what did she look like?" He said, looking up at me with his big eyes.

"She had this long, curly brown hair along with her white streak that reached below her shoulder blades normally, but it reaches to her lower back when straightened. She passed down her blue eyes to you, as I mentioned before, but her's were much brighter than yours are. She had a slight tan compared to you and your father. She also has freckles all along her body, mainly on her shoulders and face. She also oftentimes wore a shamrock green dress that trailed behind her as she walked." I responded, and in a sense, rambled to Romeo. "She truly was a gorgeous woman when she was alive."

Romeo silently nods his head as he listened. "Okay, I see... one last question though."

"And what may that be, Master?" I looked back down at him, waiting for a response.

"How did they die?"

It was as if time had froze in that very moment. If I had lungs, I would have started holding my breath as the words left his mouth. For a few seconds, all I could do was stare at him. Stare at his curious, yet innocent face, eagerly waiting for a response.

".. They died in an accident. Now, get yourself some rest." I finally said, getting back up onto my feet.

"An accident? What kind of accident?" He spoke to me again.

"That's not something you need to know of, Master. It's past your bedtime anyway." I quickly yet steadily walked towards the door of his room, trying to avoid further questions.

"But, Robot-"

"Goodnight, Master!" I said in as much of a cheerful tone as I could muster, turning off the light to his room and closing his door.

I quietly rushed to the living room, not being able to get over Romeo's question and how I responded to it.

I know it was wrong of me to lie about how they actually died, but it was for a good reason, right? I mean, I don't know.. I don't think he's ready to know just yet...

I sat down on the couch, with my metal joints now shaking. Probably due to a faulty wire, but I can't say that for certain.

Those eyes of his... I can't look at those innocent eyes and tell him about his parents death, and how it almost resulted in his death as well. When I look at him, I strangely just want to give him the entire world, and maybe more, just without having him know of all the horrors within it.

[mutable-manifestation]

The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 21

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Part 21!

So this kinda got long. I wouldn't be able to fit the explanation part without posting off of my ao3 schedule. Also the chapter would be, like, way longer than the ~2K I've been aiming for.

So! Here's this, and I'm gonna try to post the explanation-scene as a separate chapter on Thursday or Friday. (It'll probably be big on its own anyway).

Info: Self-concept upon death hugely impacts ghost form, and Sam & Tucker expected white hair bc of Danny. So by the time Jazz became a ghost (read: Died) it was just an expectation that white hair and green eyes would be a part of that.

(Danny's own palette swap is an effect of his beliefs about what happens when things burn [white to black] and bleach in heat [black to white - like the flag on the moon]. White hair being associated with stress/death, green eyes because green was all he could see, etc. Just a lot of jumbled, morbid, last-minute thoughts while he was dying combined with pre-existing, subconscious beliefs about life and death.)

Jason's form is his exact form from when he died - minus all the injuries and plus the full-white eyes (not just normal eyes behind a domino mask - I know that varies by version for some robins. This is full-whites. They do still turn green when he's angry tho)

***

Jason only realized he’d been tricked after they finally called it a draw.

For all a snowball fight barely counted as a fight, he certainly felt calmer after getting some of his energy out.

He’d been so distracted enjoying himself he hadn’t even thought of using the chaos to bolt - not that he would have anyway, given he still didn’t know where to find a portal home.

The girl flits in front of him just in time for him to catch his breath.

“Nice to meet you,” She holds out a hand, grin as exuberant as it had been throughout the game - minus the feral tinge of competitiveness.

“I’m Danielle,” she offered as he shook the proffered hand. “But call me Elle - or Dani with an i if you want to mess with someone.”

The mischief on her face at the suggestion made him think she’d done so before.

She almost certainly already knew his name, but not telling her himself would be rude - a death sentence if they really were fae. Still, that she hadn’t prompted him should make it safer. Maybe.

(If the initial kidnapping was permitted by Danny hearing his name then he certainly didn’t hear a prompt from him, but who knows if inaudible whispers count. At least he can see that Danielle’s mouth hasn’t moved)

(Not like he isn’t already kidnapped anyway. What’ll they do, double kidnap him?)

“Jason,” he says as he disengages from the handshake, smiling genuinely despite himself.

(And he meant to smile, he did - he’d read enough stories to know how important being polite to the fae is; one wrong word and you’re 15 ribs shy of a full skeleton. Or a brother shy of a full family. It was half the reason he’d spoken as little as he had - but he hadn’t meant for it to be real)

“I’m sure Danny told you aaaaaall about me already, and yes, I really am that cool.”

Danielle - Elle - breaks Jason out his mental spiral. He just manages to smother his laugh with a cough.

“Ah, the tour actually got kind of off track, so I hadn’t had a chance to mention you yet.”

Elle gasps dramatically, putting both hands over her heart and flopping to the ground at Danny’s proclamation.

“Oh, I am wounded! I am shattered! I am abandoned and unloved!-” Danny laughs “-I am filing a formal complaint! I am requisitioning forms to have my darling emotional support Panther, Palu, moved to the Palace-”

“You- Emotio-WHAT!?” Danny reels back, expression horrified.

Elle floats up to sit a foot off the ground, arms and legs both crossed. She glares at him for about 5 seconds before sticking out her tongue and grinning.

“I’m kidding, you big chicken.”

“She ate my cape made with Actual Stars, Elle.”

Elle laughs at Danny’s clear relief and the following pout. Jason himself fails to suppress a snort.

“Well,” Danny huffs, turning to Wulf. “While these two are busy laughing at my expense, I wanted your opinion on something.”

He gestures to a more distant tree with his eyes, and Wulf follows as he floats away - probably aiming for out of earshot.

Elle abandons her laughter to float upright just in front of him - the floating equivalent of standing, he supposes.

“Anyway, like I said, I’m Elle. Long story short Danny’s ex-arch-nemesis who shall not be named wanted to adopt Danny and handled the ‘no’ really poorly and tried to clone him. I was the only surviving clone, and after trying to kill Danny on said manipulative ex-nemesis’ orders he managed to change my mind about said nemesis, helped stabilize me, and eventually ended up adopting me.” She said, in the most nonchalant manner possible, which, wow, the story really did not call for.

Jason desperately wants to know the long version.

“Sooo…” she drawls, smile gaining a teasing edge, “I guess you can actually just call me big sis.”

She laughs at his suddenly blank expression.

“No? How about ‘best big sister ever?’ Oh! Oh! Or ‘Coolest big sister in the Realms?’ Get it? Cuz ice powers.”

She flits around him as she speaks, wiggling her fingers and loosing a few flakes of snow at the last bit for emphasis, giggling.

Jason isn’t sure how to respond without insulting her somehow.

To any of that, really.

“Never expected to have a baby brother,” she muses, “but then with how readily he adopted me despite my origins I guess it isn’t all that surprising. Especially with you being a halfa and all. We’re really rare, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Or maybe not - you are only like a week old, technically.”

“I’m 22,” he corrects, unbelievingly.

She snorts.

“In human years, maybe.”

And hey. Wow. Jason is not a fan of that.

(Yes, he’s glowing. Yes, he’s visibly de-aged 7 years. No, he has not accepted any of the potential implications that has regarding his human-ness.)

Jason has roughly 100 more questions after her little info-dump than he did before.

Before he can debate risking those rib bones, what can only be one of the infamous ‘eyeballs’ shows up.

It sure is an eyeball, just one giant eye takes up most of its head, but for the thin green outline that connects to the rest of its body - only seen by the matching green of its hands, which themselves bear off-puttingly long claws.

It is also wearing quite possibly the most pretentious robes he has ever laid eyes on.

This coming from someone who grew up watching Brucie Wayne play air headed, carefree rich boy like it was his true calling - the man had a designer collection of dramatic robes to greet unexpected late-evening guests with.

“Phantom.”

“Greg.”

“That is not my name.”

By the terse greetings and short follow-up, this was a common exchange.

The eyeball - Greg, why not - turned its eye on Jason just then.

For all its size, the eye moved just as fast as a normal one. The motion was wrong in some indefinable way; grotesque to see. He did his best not to react, cautious of setting the being off; this one seemed more volatile than those he’d met thus far.

Despite the lack of a facial expression, Jason couldn’t help but feel like he was being sneered at.

Thankfully its attention on him was brief, turning back to address Elle after only a beat.

“If you are quite finished shirking your duties to play in the snow, the Valhallan representative is waiting to speak with you.”

“What??? He isn’t supposed to be here for another hour,” Elle questioned, brown pinched.

“It has been an hour, Phantom.”

He floats to her side to point towards the palace.

“If you would be so kind, I would like to get this over with.”

“Uuuuuuugh,” Elle groans, drifting slowly in that direction despite the apparent distaste, “Can’t you just watch from your lair like Clocky always does?”

“You know very well that matters of exceptional import and tumultuous path selection require personal observation in order to maintain timeline coherency. All royal meetings for-”

“‘-at least the next three weeks fit the criteria.’” Elle makes air quotes as she speaks, turning to face Greg while still floating towards the palace, backwards.

“I know, I know. Blah blah regulation, blah blah timelines, blah blah paperwork. Heard it. Got it. Thanks.” She concludes with an eyeroll, before looking back at him.

“Have fun with the rest of the tour!” she yells, smiling and waving as if she was already a mile away. “Make sure Danny shows you the map rooms!”

And then she turns and zooms away.

He can sense the faintest bit of rage coming from Greg, and he barely hears the muttered ‘Insufferable abomination’ before the…guy?...eye… follows suit.

He watches until the eye disappears into the building.

At which point he hears a small sigh from beside him.

He nearly jumps out of his skin in startlement, whipping his head around to find Danny floating placidly by his side, saluting into the distance.

“Good luck, Elle,” he says mournfully, “Rip to your good mood.”

“That bad?” Jason asks, resettling his nerves.

Danny snorts.

“The Observants always make everything either as boring as they can or as difficult as they can. It could be worse though; the Valhallans are a party people so it should balance out. Best case scenario they’ll spend the end of the meeting annoying ‘Greg’-” he adds air quotes at this, grinning, “-together.”

‘The Observants must be the eyeballs then,’ Jason thinks. ‘The name is a bit on the nose…or eye.’

“Anyway!” Danny twists and drifts to float in front of him. “We’ve got another hour or so before dinner; ready to get back to the tour?”

Jason opens his mouth, then pauses.

He takes a glance around and asks “Where is Wulf?”

“Oh, he’s off picking up a preorder - Volume 15 of, uh…something? I don’t remember the name. But don’t worry, he’ll be back in a few hours.”

And wow, the promise that Wulf isn’t just hovering unseen in the background does a lot to untense muscles he hadn’t realized were tensed.

“Right. Sure, tour away.”

He held in his questions, for all that he was bursting at the seams for answers.

Because really: Clone? Archnemesis??? Was this a hero-villain thing or a fae politics thing? Cloning generally wasn’t a thing heroes did, but kidnapping wasn’t either.

What did Elle mean by ‘Halfa?’ Or technically a week old???

Also: brother? Adopted? There’s no way, right?

Being yanked off of the streets of Crime Alley by some dude living in a veritable castle to be adopted with little to no explanation was not something that happened to people twice.

Let alone when he is, in fact, a grown-ass man.

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

The next section they visit is Elle’s, located close to the final tower on the same side as the Specters’ had been.

The first room is filled with complex ice sculptures - a panther the size of a horse, a normal-sized cat, a few of the yetis, a kid in a pirate garb with a parrot, a girl covered in…Lunch Boxes? Danny, Jazz, and Spike were scattered among more unfamiliar statues.

They take their time in this room, Danny pointing to a lot of the people depicted and giving him names to go with faces - he even recognizes a few of them from earlier parts of the tour, and makes sure to commit them all to memory.

Then came the rooms that looked like a cosmopolitan’s dream collection.

A room dedicated to world maps through the ages - little groups of similarly-aged maps slowly orbited each other in globe-like patterns while newer versions and even a few of alien worlds lined the walls.

At least 3 rooms are dedicated to photos from all around the world - he spotted the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids, the Congo from above, the Great Wall of China, Niagara Falls - plenty of well-known tourist locations, as well as a wide variety of nature shots. The nature shots took up an entire floor-width room, and were arranged to transition from one biome to the next.

The next room is full of souvenirs; postcards, foods from around the world frozen in more of that crystal-clear ice, weapons, clothing, jewelry - a little bit of everything.

Another swift pass-through - and by, since one of them was occupied - of the meeting, sitting, and nap rooms has them finally arrive at the room that was probably the reason Elle said ‘map rooms’ and not just ‘room.’

It was domed like an observatory, but instead of the night sky it showed that infinite green.

Different sections zoomed in and out, just slowly enough to take in. The room is scattered with cushions and telescopes aimed up. At the very center stands some kind of machine, spitting out paper which, when he floats over to look at it, reveals a single, ever-growing map.

“Elle is obsessed with travel,” Danny says fondly. “She was away more often than not at first, but then she got the idea to map the Realms - a map that can be referenced rather than a single ‘take me where I ask you to’ artifact.”

He floats up towards the dome as he speaks.

“It might seem pointless with how much paper an infinite amount of realms will take to map, but the mechanism feeds the map data into a computer that sends everything to be incorporated into Tucker and Technus’ Zone Map App. It updates constantly, what with the fluctuations in the Zone, but it’s always improving.”

“Fluctuations?” Jason asks, processing the ‘infinite amount of realms’ remark.

“Think of it like space; there’s gravity against the constant growth of the universe. The zone expands and contracts, like the flow of a tide. Except it’s moving in all directions instead of just the two.

But it expands more than it contracts, and just like on the sea or in space things can drift closer together or farther apart. Following specific streams can help, but only so much. Reliable navigation was pretty hard to come by before Elle, Tuck, and Technus started working on this.”

“Impressive,” Jason says softly.

And it is. The thought of mapping a veritable ocean with important bits that never stayed in the same place…it seemed nigh-impossible.

Opposite the third tower - “We can tour my tower after dinner,” Danny had said - lay the section belonging to Jazz and Spike.

The first thing they come to is familiar - the library.

“Anyone can use the library, but Jazz is the one in charge.”

Jason stops cold.

“Jazz.” He echoes.

Jazz, who had so calmly and proficiently wielded a gun.

Who had gifted him a gun.

Who had expressed her own love for literature.

They’d even briefly discussed some of the classics and yet-

“Jazz made that impossible excuse for a sorting system!?”

He couldn’t bring himself to worry about upsetting him, he’d just have to risk the ribs. That ‘sorting’ system was a travesty that could not stand unchallenged.

Luckily, Danny only chuckles a bit.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he snorts, shaking his head.

“Not that- how are you supposed to find anything!” he shouts, throwing his hands into the air.

“You ask,” Danny answers, brow raised.

“WHO!? THERE’S NO RECEPTIONIST!” Jason scrubs his hands against his hair in frustration.

Understanding dawns on Danny’s face at that.

“Here, let me show you,” he says, nodding to the doors before zooming through.

Jason follows, anger simmering under his skin - fully his own, for the first time in years.

“Library,” Danny says as Jason comes to float beside him, “May I please see The Guide to Phantom Palace?”

A book soars from a wall shelf to float, wiggling in front of him like an eager puppy.

“Thank you!” Danny says brightly, before turning to hand the book to Jason.

“The library is sentient,” he explains. “Good manners are key, by the way - Jazz is in charge, but the library can and will kick people out if they're rude or incautious with food and drinks.”

Jason stares at the book in his hand a moment, frustrated at the simplicity of it and the hour he spent looking aimlessly, but at least a bit soothed at the presence of a way to actually find things - even if the organization still makes no sense.

“Why the emotional organization system, then?” He finally asks.

“That’s for Jazz,” Danny answers. “This library is a part of some psychology project she’s doing - the return system, at least. Ask the library for the book you want - or you can ask for suggestions based on certain criteria. It’s sentient, it can help you find things - and when you’re done with it you put it back where you think it should be based on your own emotions.

Or if you don’t want to participate you can just put your books back on the shelf by the desk and Jazz will rearrange them however she sees fit.”

“Psychology project?” Jason asks after pause.

“Ah, you’d have to ask her. She told me all about it when it was first getting set up, but as much as I tried to understand it, it was all Greek to me.”

“Anyway!” he claps, “Now for the rest!”

The rest of Jazz’s section seems to follow the psychology theme.

A rage room that looks well-loved - battered, glowing clubs and a variety of damaged items from tech to glass to dummies that appeared to be slowly healing themselves.

A soothing room full of soft things and calming music and candles and even a few flowers.

A sound-proof room for quiet, a therapy room for meeting with ‘patients.’ Then of course there were the business meeting, paperwork, sitting, and nap rooms. And a combat room.

The nap, combat, and sitting rooms seemed to be shared, with the second part of the section - Spike’s - branching off from the sitting room.

Spike, of course, had his own cursed paperwork and meeting rooms.

Then came the ‘this is the home of an artist’ rooms.

An enormous circular room was dedicated to acting as a color wheel, the walls slowly shifting from deepest reds to darkest indigos, with every shade and color in between. In the center of the floor was the darkest shade of black, radiating out to a blinding white where it met the walls - the ceiling was the opposite, a bright white dot radiating darker until it met the walls as a void-like black.

A room filled with sketches and paintings, a room full of blank or half-made canvases with pencils and paints and brushes floating all around - seemingly where they’d been abandoned, a room full of miniature landscapes matching both locations he’d seen on earth and the strange landmasses he’d seen on the journey to the castle. And then what Danny called an archive room, where Spike stored older projects that he no longer wished to display.

Skalfred found them just as Danny finished explaining the room.

“Perfect timing!” Danny grins, turning to Jason. “Race you there?"

They’re near the library. Jason knows the way.

He zips around Skalfred and out the door in lieu of an answer.

He can just faintly hear Danny sputtering, ‘You cheater!’ coming out around the echoing laughter behind him.

***

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy

Fun Facts!

Elle’s name - she initially chose Dani because she didn’t want to change herself just to differentiate herself from Danny - lots of people have the same name, and she has just as much right to it as Danny.

But it also made her feel too much like a copy and less like a person - especially with the confusion when she started living with the Fentons.

Then Jazz suggested Elle would be a nice name - it’s part of her name already and it’s like Elle Woods, known badass. They then watched legally blonde, and Dani decided it was a really cool name and started going by Elle. She’s a lot happier with it - no more discomfort when being spoken too, and they can still call her Dani when she and Danny are both in the room and they want to annoy the Observants or other people by doing The Bit(™) [both pointing to themselves ‘who me’ - other person, also in on the bit, facepalming and saying ‘Danny’ - them ‘which Danny.’ Of course no one told the observants Dani also goes by Elle. One time one got tired of it and went ‘Obviously the Danny with the crown of fire.’ And Danny makes the Crown of Fire appear (separate little mini-rings-transformation) at the same time Elle pulls a Burger King Crown actively on fire from her Halfa Pocket Space and they both go ‘which crown of fire’ and it is by the blessing of not having organs alone that the observant in question did not immediately have an aneurysm from sheer, apoplectic rage.]

Palu - Danny is a dog person, Elle is a cat person. Palu is named for Cath Palug - the closest thing I could find to a cat-equivalent of Cujo’s namesake. Same neon-green fur as Cujo, but all-purple eyes. Palu can be the size of a cat (around twice Cujo’s puppy-size), but can get up to the size of a horse (just slightly smaller than Cujo’s max). Unfortunately, Palu is very fond of Being Enormous And Also Hunting Everything That Moves That Isn’t Dani, so they put her in one of Sam’s conservation areas where she’d be happy. She liked it enough to move her lair - an incredibly large pet-bed in a small forest of cat trees - and Dani visits whenever she wants to see her.

[justminawrites]

Where The Stars Collide - Chapter 1: Loke

AO3

Summary: Loke has a dream. tw: mentions of abuse.

prologue | 1 | 2 | TBC

The first thing Loke the Celestial Spirit noticed was that his pants were missing.

Now, this on its own wasn’t too alarming. In fact, he’d go so far as to say that it was a common occurrence early in his playboy-days, where he habitually drowned his guilt in women and liquor– but rarely did he stir from such a night with a hospital gown in its place. 

He woke exactly like he’d collapsed; violently and without warning, his eyes flying open the same time as his lungs heaved for air. 

“AQUA– HAH–– HAH–– AQUARIUS–“ he gasped out, bolting upright in the infirmary bed much to his nurse’s horror; cat-like pupils dilating under the fluorescent lighting.

“Shh, it’s okay, Loke. Loke, look at me.”

The second thing he noticed was that his nurse looked a lot like the love of his life: renowned celestial mage and once-heir to a multimillion-jewel corporation, Lucy Heartfilia. 

“Lucy?” He wheezed.

“Mhm,” the nurse’s blurry face swam across his vision but he’d recognise that sunshine-blonde hair anywhere. 

“Don’t over-exert yourself okay? Master Makarov said it would take you a few minutes to adjust to Porlyusica’s healing elixir since you’re part celestial spirit and all.” 

As Lucy gently took his his face in her hands Loke felt his breathing regulate and panic recede, gasps giving way to steady respiration as she eased him back against the wooden bed-frame. 

By the time she’d replaced the cold towel on his forehead, Loke had recovered most of his eyesight and found himself clearly staring into two large, worried brown eyes.

He bit the inside of his cheek to not let something embarrassing (like I love you) slip out; Lucy didn’t really respond well to advances, his or others, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. Especially on top of everything else he had to tell her.

“You look.. Wow..”

Real smooth.  

Lucy to her credit, looked more sheepish than anything at the mention of her appearance. She was still in her travelling gear, face and hair streaked with grime and dirt; it had only been a few hours since they’d returned from Edolas for her, after all. 

“Oh, I know. I’m a real mess,” She huffed, “Didn’t have time to change out of anything but at least Natsu’s cloak keeps me from catching anything serious– Loke!“

Loke had opened his mouth to disagree, she looked beautiful to him either way, but choked at the mention of the pink-haired dragon-slayer. The tiny hiccup of jealousy turned into a full blown cough and suddenly he was keeled over hacking into his gown as she rushed to pour him some water.

“Natsu’s.. cloak..?” He tried to croak out once he’d set down the glass, but Lucy waved it away.

“It doesn’t matter. Now, what’s wrong with Aquarius?”

“It’s a long story,” he sighed, “but the crux of it is that she’s missing.”

“Missing?” Lucy looked horrified, “You mean, I left her key behind in Edolas?”

“No,” Loke shook his head, “Even if that were the case she’d simply reappear back in the Spirit Realm– but she never did.

“My working theory is that the anima must have interfered with her travel between worlds somehow. I wanted to see if you could summon her from your side, but it seems like whatever blocked her return, destroyed her celestial contract as a result.”

“What are you saying?” Lucy’s voice became very small and her eyes began to well up. 

“You can’t mean.. you don’t think..”

Watching the colour rapidly drain from her face Loke grabbed her arm quickly to keep her from assuming the worst possible outcome.

His time as a spirit had not only desensitised him to the whiplash of emotions that came with being a human, but also how hasty they were in considering their own death. Celestial Spirits almost never died before their time (though they were by no means eternal), but she had no way of knowing that.

“Don’t worry, Lucy,” He shook his head again, “Celestial Spirits aren’t bound by the same rules humans are. If their key is broken it just means that the spirit has accidentally ended up in a closed-pocket realm and involuntarily broken their contract.”

This momentarily put a stop to the tears.  

“A closed what?”

“It’s like an Edolas, but for spirits,” Loke frowned aloud, absentmindedly still holding her arm, “Essentially a realm that nullifies their magic.”

“In the rare occasion that this happens, it’s usually the Celestial Spirit King’s responsibility to find them and bring them back, but since there are an endless number of pocket dimensions they could’ve fallen into, it takes a while to locate them.”

“But aren’t Celestial Spirits made of magic?” Lucy asked, squeezing his hand back in concern.

“Not anymore than you or anyone else from Fairy Tail. Our magic can be shut down under the right circumstances.”

“So Aquarius is––“

“Out of commission, yes. But only briefly,” Loke added reassuringly, “Once I return, I’ll make sure we find her and reinstate her contract right away.”

“I see,” Lucy nodded, brows furrowing. She then dropped his hand in favour of standing up to pace the length of the room.

Watching her walk back and forth and back forth, pondering the temporary absence of her oldest spirit companion, Loke tried not to wince in pain as a dull throbbing began at the base of his skull; the cause of which could’ve been his depletion of magic energy, or just plain guilt. 

He hadn’t lied to Lucy exactly– he’d just omitted to tell her certain crucial details that might alarm her; like, for example, that the search for Aquarius was already underway, or how he hadn’t slept in over a month (in celestial days) and used up the final dregs of his power to transport himself here in the hopes that she could summon her friend herself. 

The truth was that no matter how lost Aquarius might’ve gotten in the Spirit Realm, her key wasn’t supposed to go missing. The contract with her Celestial Wizard should’ve remained unaffected regardless of the location of the spirit, since the key was made with the sole intention of being an anchor, in both their worlds.

Loke wasn’t sure he could tell her the whole truth until he got some answers himself; as the Leader of the Twelve Zodiac Houses, Aquarius’ disappearance weighed hard on him more-so than normal. He’d only just been back in the Spirit Realm for a few months now but the backlog of centuries’ worth of responsibilities had nearly run him into the ground, so much so that he’d underperformed each time Lucy had needed him in the past month. 

As if the humiliation at the hands of the Oración Seis wasn’t enough (he hadn’t expected to see Aries on the battlefield so soon), Loke cringed to think how he’d been so overworked he’d blatantly flirted with and subsequently gotten rejected by Lucy’s Edolas counterpart, mere hours ago.

“Loke? Hello? Earth to Leo?” He snapped back to reality.

Lucy had stopped pacing and had returned to hover over him, hands on her waist, shrewdly giving him a once-over. Loke held his breath, wondering if she could tell that he was hiding something; Lucy was smarter than people gave her credit for.

“Sorry milady,” he faked an easy grin, leaning in closer to distract her, “I got lost in your beautiful eyes for a second there.” 

Lucy blinked once, twice then rolled those same eyes in disbelief, breaking the spell.

“Someone’s confident today,” she huffed, resuming her seat, “How’d your little date go, by the way? Virgo told me all about it.”

Loke made a mental note to never joke with Virgo about dating his workload ever again.

“Terribly,” he pretended to pout, wondering if Lucy would take the bait.

“And why’s that?” She did.

“Well, to start with, she wasn’t you,” He said, reaching over to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, sure the classic Loke move would leave her in pieces. It was a little cheesy but it worked in a pinch. 

Lucy only smacked his hand away, her exasperation bleeding into irritation.

“Loke, you can’t keep doing this,” She said, crossing her arms, “What’s going on with you?”

“You were exhausted even before the Edolas fight.. when was the last time you slept?”

Loke blinked in surprise. Much smarter than people gave her credit for.

“Not for a while,” He admitted, shoulders slumping and leaning back into the pillows, “Not since the run in with Aries.”

“Loke!” Lucy’s worried gasp had him ducking his head with something like shame, “That was weeks ago!”

Between the overwhelming amount of paperwork on his table, attending every Spirit World event he’d been absent for, and now Aquarius’ disappearance, Loke counted himself lucky that he didn’t have silly human needs to tend to anymore like eating or sleeping, but his body seemed to think otherwise. The Celestial Spirit King had warned him that readjusting would take some time, of course, but Loke hadn’t listened; he couldn’t just throw away the second (and last) chance he’d been given at the expense of Lucy’s dignity–  he’d break his own key before letting her suffer for him again.

“Celestial spirits don’t need all that y’know–“ He said, trying his best to sound nonchalant about it, but she quickly cut him off.

“But you haven’t been a spirit for that long!” Lucy scolded, “Remember what the Spirit King said about–“

“I know, Lucy,” He sighed, unable to meet her eyes, “I just.. didn’t want to let yo- uh everybody down.”

“Oh..”

“You know,” He added, only half joking, “-can’t have people saying I wasn’t worth all the trouble, after all you did for me.”

At this, Lucy reached out and grabbed his hand, forcing him to look up at her.

“Loke, you’re my friend,” She said sternly, “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Loke wondered how she could look at him like that, like she would defend him to the ends of the Earthland, and expect him not to fall in love with her.

“Ah,” He put his other hand on his heart in mock despair, lightening the mood instantly, “You shouldn’t get my hopes up like that, Lucy.”

“W-What?”

“Just friends?” He pulled her hand to his chest then, “I thought we had something special, milady.”

“Yeah right,” Lucy smiled, relaxing a little, “Me and every girl within a five-mile radius." 

“Don’t you think for a minute that I’ve forgotten what happened with my Edolas doppelgänger, you flirt!” 

“I see, does that mean you only want me to flirt with you, Lucy?” He teased, leaning in to see the sudden influx of colour that rushed to Lucy’s face.

“I- I never-“ He tried not to enjoy it too much as she floundered around for a comeback and settled for pulling her hands away in protest.

Although Loke did his best to keep his foot out of his mouth, he constantly found himself toeing the line between cheeky and tongue-in-cheek with his flirting, mostly because he had no idea how to talk to Lucy otherwise. 

Addressing her formally (like he’d been accustomed to with Karen), felt foreign and ill-fitting and it definitely didn’t help that Lucy herself often blurred the line between spirit and friend herself– insisting everyone call her by her first name, and being determined to fight on equal footing as though they were partners. But even he knew better than to delude himself into hoping that anything might come of it.

Before Lucy could reply, however, they were interrupted by a sharp, sarcastic rap on the door. 

“Break it up ya lovebirds, the Master wants to see ‘er.”

“Gajeel!”

Loke tensed up. 

Though it had been well over four months since the iron dragon-slayer had joined the guild, along with Juvia Lockser, his popularity (unlike Juvia’s) hadn’t skyrocketed in the least. While this had, in some part, to do with Gajeel’s prickly personality, the greater blame lay in his mistreatment of the Fairy Tail members during the guild war with Phantom Lord, and, among the casualties, a certain celestial mage with sunshine blonde hair.

Loke glowered at the red-eyed wizard, still bedridden but now imperceptibly shifting his torso to shield Lucy from whatever would come next.

Gajeel only snorted, no doubt considering the implications of starting a fight with a guy in a hospital gown, and pointed over Loke’s shoulder instead.

“Just ya, Blondie,” He crossed his arms, “Somethin’ about losin' his keys or whatever.”

“Oh,” Lucy got up to leave but Loke involuntarily grabbed her hand and shook his head. Gajeel threw them another withering look.

“Look, I don’t wanna be here either, alright? Got better things to do than run around playing errand boy to that old man. I’ve got an exceed to feed y’know.”

It was only then that they noticed the animal on his shoulder. Bearing a striking resemblance to Happy and Carla, this one was covered in black fur, with stark white wings and a scar running across one eye. 

Both Lucy and Loke jumped a little when the exceed opened it’s mouth to say “Hello, I’m Panther Lily,” with the voice of a fifty-year-old war veteran.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello,” Lucy replied bravely, not to be deterred, “I’m Lucy Heartf- uh just Lucy! Welcome to Fairy Tail!”

Loke tried not to look up at her then; he knew how self conscious Lucy had become after her run in with her father, especially about her name. The other guild members had teased her about her ‘princessy’ demeanour for months on end, and though she’d laughed it off in good faith, Loke had heard from Virgo that she’d marched down to the Magic Council to have Heartfilia removed from all her legal documents.

“Loke,” he grunted reluctantly when the exceed turned to him. He didn’t want to tell Gajeel’s pet anything but his rudeness wouldn’t reflect well on Lucy.

“You’re a Celestial spirit,” The Exceed noted, fixing him with a strange look. 

“Is that a problem?” Loke raised an eyebrow.

“But not a full one. Interesting..”

Loke’s hackles raised, and he opened his mouth to ask just what exactly the little bear-cat-like creature meant before he felt the squeeze on his arm and realised Lucy was looking at him.

“I’ll be right back,” She’d already dropped his hand before he could voice his objection, so instead he watched her leave, deliberately narrowing his eyes as Gajeel made to close the door.

“If you touch one hair on her head..” He gritted his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gajeel said carelessly, scratching at his jaw, “Word of advice? Get it together before ya go off makin’ threats loverboy.”

The door slammed shut with a THUD!

Loke released a breath into the air and pressed his hand to his temples. What was he doing? 

Gajeel was right, he wasn’t in any place to sit around and growl at people like Lucy’s lapdog. Karen had loved seeing him do it, almost as much as she’d loved to torment Aries to get a rise out of him.

“Aren’t I lucky,” The green-haired, green-eyed (in more ways than one) Karen Lilica had crowed, brandishing her chain-whip, “I have both the strongest and the weakest spirits of all the Zodiac.”

Before he could realise what was happening, Loke had already slipped into the dream. 

The familiar periwinkle and gold interior of the Blue Pegasus guild hall rose up to swallow him and suddenly Loke wasn’t Loke anymore. Now he was Leo, confident and glowing as he reached out to shake the hand of the sweet, green-haired girl who’d summoned him.

“Oh wow!” She gasped, shaking his hand with both of her own, “I’m so honoured to meet a member of the Zodiac! I’m Karen by the way!”

The ground fell away under him and suddenly Loke was crouched at the foot of a plush red sofa as an older Karen lovingly stroked his head; teary mascara streaking down her face. Gone was the youthful girlishness, now replaced by a garish lipsticked smile.

“You know I didn’t mean it right, Leo? I just got so angry– I don’t know what came over me.”

He looked on dumbly as Karen cooed and fussed over the large gash above his right eyelid.

If only he had known sooner. If only he had seen it coming. If only, if only, if only.

The roar of a waterfall cascaded from somewhere inside him and Loke looked around, confused, before the ceiling opened up and released a flood of water down on him, drowning, drowning, drowning and then.. not.

Now Loke was kneeling on a rocky outcropping overlooking a great waterfall, in front of Karen’s grave, but the grave was empty and Karen was standing next to him, all pretense of love leaving her eyes as she dug the sharp tip of her heel into his shoulder.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone? Go. Back. Go back, go back, go back!” She shrieked, shoving him backward. Loke caught his balance before he tumbled into the hole and finally found the words to defend himself.

“What.. happened to you?” He choked out as Karen proceeded to loop her chain-whip around his neck and pull.

She laughed as he fought for air, grasping at the rusted metal in vain.

“What’re you on about?” She taunted, leaning in to press a kiss right above his eye, “You turned me into this, Leo.”

Her kisses felt like acid.

“It’s all your fault,” She whispered as his face began to burn and his vision began to darken, “And now you’ve gone and dragged that poor girl into it too.”

Loke turned around in horror to see Lucy now lying inside Karen’s empty grave, eyes closed, clutching his key to her chest like a lifeline. 

“Gate.. of the lion.. close.. gate..”

“Lucy! LUCY!”

Loke reached out to grab her, but it was too late. The ground closed over the hole, as he started to disappear, grass and flowers sprouting beneath the gravestone and sealing Lucy away forever - his name the last words on her lips.

“Leo.”

Another fainter voice overlapped with hers, originating from somewhere at the back of his skull; a voice that sounded suspiciously like Aquarius’. 

“Leo,” Lucy-Aquarius repeated, quiet and urgent, like she didn’t have much time, “You need to be careful.”

“The Eclipse is coming.”

Loke woke for the second time that day to a pair of worried brown eyes.

This time, however, they belonged to his long-time friend and confidante, Aries. As though dreaming about their former master had summoned her to his side, the pink-haired, Ram Spirit hovered over him anxiously, mumbling something to herself.

“Leo!” She repeated, relieved as he sat up a little straighter.

“Aries..” He replied, not fully able to process what was happening, “Did Lucy summon you? What’re you doing here?”

“Mhm,” She shook her head, “I came on my own. I learned how to after.. well..”

Loke winced as he recalled the phantom abuse in his dream, involuntarily feeling his throat to check for burn marks.

“The Celestial Spirit King wanted to know if Lucy-san still had the Aquarius key?” Aries asked hopefully.

The disappearance had left everyone in the Spirit World on edge, their monarch included. Loke had a feeling it was because it had been millennia since they were forced to confront their potential demise. That and because Scorpio kept giving everyone hell for losing Aquarius; Loke had to physically restrain his friend to keep him from ambushing Lucy on his own. 

“No,” Aries’ face fell as he continued, “For some reason, the key’s gone too. We don’t have any hint for where we should begin searching, and the closed-pocket realms are endless.”

“We can only hope she hasn’t fallen into any of the Disgraced dimensions.”

Aries’ eyes got wide at the mention of the Red-Key Spirits, former inhabitants of the Celestial Spirit Realm, exiled for breaking the code of conduct that all spirits were required to abide under. No decent spirit would be caught whispering about The Disgraced Ones within the earshot of Loke– after all, if Karen had been any less of a villain, he would’ve shared their fate. 

It was another thing he’d carefully kept from Lucy. His banishment to the human world was an act of mercy, only granted to him for his eons of unwavering loyalty to the Celestial Spirit King, and when it came down to it, Loke would pick dying in the human world over the twisted solitude of the Disgraced dimensions. At least he would die as himself.

“Do you suppose it was taken?” Aries said finally, her usual jumpiness replaced by uncharacteristic conviction, “Maybe someone stole it off Lucy-san when she wasn’t looking?”

“Maybe,” Loke shrugged, unconvinced, “But it’s unlikely. From what Lucy told me, they just returned from Edolas a few hours ago.”

“If anyone wanted to steal the key, it’d have to be from within Fairy Tail.”

“But–“

“No, Aries,” She looked hurt when he cut her off, “The people here aren’t like that. You should just go home– I’ll handle it.”

Loke tried to feign indifference as her big doll eyes began to well up with tears. He hated doing it but drawing boundaries between himself and the rest of the Zodiac had become a necessity when he returned. Aries, who’d arguably been the happiest of them all, quickly came to the realisation that her friend had become a completely different person in all their time apart.

Time worked differently in the Celestial Spirit Realm; sometimes it would go faster, sometimes slower, and there were even periods where it simply wouldn’t move at all. For the three years Loke had been in Earthland, time had spun like a roulette table and separated him from his friends by a whopping three hundred years, suddenly making him the youngest of his former team-mates. 

He lost the respect and acclaim that came with being the Leader of the Zodiac, the title going to Aquarius in his absence; no longer the notorious lion spirit, now just a cub with claws too big and too sharp for his feet. 

“I wish you would let me help,” Aries’ lip wobbled, still she rubbed at her eyes defiantly, “We used to do everything together, Leo.”

Loke clutched his hospital gown tightly, his mouth set in a thin, hard line.

After a few seconds of strained silence, where he pretended he didn’t see her shoulders quietly shaking, Aries said,

“I know you blame me for Karen’s death.”

He glanced up, surprised.

“I thought about it for years,” She frowned, not meeting his eyes, “‘Leo must hate me’. After all, you were only trying to protect me.”

“If I had just been better at standing up for myself, you wouldn’t have been punished so severely!”

“I don’t blame you,” He said gently, her tears had gotten to him, “But this is my job Aries, I can’t drag you into it.”

“But Karen–“ 

“Karen was a monster,” Loke bared his teeth, not an ounce of regret in his voice, “–and she got what she deserved.”

“She was so kind when we first met her,” Aries insisted weakly, “I can’t help but wonder if we had helped her more maybe–“

“Maybe she would’ve turned on us faster,” He snapped, “Maybe she would’ve done worse! You didn’t see her those last few weeks, Aries, I did.”

“She was unhinged– the girl I made a contract with died a long time ago.”

Loke refrained himself from adding ‘And it was all my fault.’ to the end of that sentence, because he knew Aries would never understand. She would want to share the blame for their former master’s descent into madness, but the cruel truth was that despite what Aries said, she simply couldn’t handle the pain that came with that realisation. Karen knew it too, its why she saved all the especially harrowing punishments for him. It was much more fun for her to watch him slowly begin to resent the friend he’d tried so desperately to save. 

“I don’t blame you,” Loke repeated, almost as though he was trying to convince himself, “And besides, getting banished was the best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn’t have met Lucy, otherwise.”

“Then let me help you,” Aries refuted stubbornly, “Aquarius is my friend too!”

“And my responsibility,” He countered, “–as the Leader of the Zodiac–“

“If what happens to Aquarius starts spreading, there won’t be a Zodiac left to lead, Leo!”

Loke started at her tone. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Aries’ voice rise higher than 40 decibels.

“You’re not the only one suffering here! Remember how bad it was when we lost Capricorn– you wouldn’t even let us help you then! You had to ‘do it yourself’, well a whole lot of good that did you!”

“So just stop being so– so– pig-headed!” Even Aries looked surprised by her sudden burst of rebelliousness, and clamped both her hands over her mouth in horror.

The sight was so odd and unexpected that, try as he might, Loke couldn’t hold back the snort that spilled out from somewhere deep inside him. 

He was in tears within seconds, clutching the sides of his stomach as he keeled over with laughter, and, after a few seconds, Aries joined him; the two of them snickering like middle-schoolers over a dumb joke.

“Pig-headed?” He wheezed.

Stars, it had been a while since they’d laughed together. Truth be told, Loke wasn’t sure they’d even be able to talk normally again without the ghost of Karen hovering between them, but here they were. Stranger things had happened.

“I’m glad,” Aries said finally, as she paused to catch their breath, “I haven’t seen you smile once since you came home.”

Loke opened his mouth to protest but she held up a finger to stop him, “No, talking about Lucy-san doesn’t count.”

“Killjoy.” He huffed. Aries giggled.

“How is she taking the news, by the way?”

“Better than I expected,” He admitted, “She’s tougher than she looks, m–“

Loke caught himself just in time. 

He didn’t know what would be worse, actually slipping up and saying the words “my Lucy”, or watching his friend’s face scrunch up with pity as she hears it. Even Aries (the most optimistic of all the spirits) would click her tongue in disbelief if she found out just how deep his loyalties lay. 

Celestial Spirits don’t fall in love with humans. Capricorn had drilled it into his head since he was a boy. Especially not their bright-eyed, lavender-shampooed, beautiful, beautiful masters. 

“That’s good,” Aries affirmed, blissfully oblivious to his mental gymnastics as she rose from her seat, “I’d better head off then.”

“Is there anything you wanted me to look into while you’re.. taking your mandatory rest?”

Loke was about to shake his head and send her on her way, but a tiny voice in the back of his head made him pause, the lightness in his chest temporarily soaking in an inexplicable sense of dread.

“Actually,” he began, “There is one thing.”

She blinked expectantly.

“What can you tell me about the Eclipse?”

Next Chapter ->

[tsarisfanfiction]

Eclipse: Chapter 7

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades Ah, the glorious sound of readers reacting to a plot twist... Glad you seemed to enjoy last chapter - next question is... what's next? I also just realised I keep forgetting to mention in these A/Ns that I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 6

APOLLO VII

The long descent down A primordial body Time to find my son

Apollo was seething.  Distantly, he was aware of Hades walking away from him, continuing in the same direction he’d been leading from the beginning, no doubt towards the Prison, but he could not bring himself to try and persuade his uncle that splitting up in Tartarus was a bad idea.

Right then, Hades was the last person Apollo wanted to go with him.  His uncle had not answered his demand whether he’d been involved in Asclepius’ apparent new and increased punishment, but that was as good as a confirmation, to Apollo’s mind.  His uncle had always been angry with Asclepius for the initial creation of the Physician’s Cure, despite his father being the one to actually punish him for doing so; it was not hard to believe that his fury would flare up once again at the revival of the Cure, no matter how justified it had been.

And it had been justified.  Apollo had known the risks when he picked the flower and handed it to Leo in exchange for the Valdezinator, bidding him to visit his son and pass on the message that Apollo was approving its creation.  He had thought that the punishment for that would be mitigated by its necessity, or barring that, that he would be the one to take the brunt of it.  It had not occurred to him that it would be his son, once again, who would be punished.

He'd been a fool, he realised.  His father often hurt those closest to him in punishment; why shouldn’t he take it out on Asclepius a second time?  Six months of mortality, of trials and tribulations and the all-too close possibility of death clearly were not enough.  His father had to go one step further, had to hurt his son on top of all of that, remind Apollo that no act of defiance, no matter how minor, could ever go unpunished.

No matter what Hades thought, it was Apollo’s fault his son was down here, in this inhospitable pit that Asclepius was no better suited for than Will, save the singular distinction of his elder son’s immortality, and he would not, could not, leave him to his fate.

His son’s presence was faint, faint enough that it had taken him the length of their trek from their landing point to the banks of the Phlegethon to identify what had been niggling at the edge of his senses and come to the horrified conclusion that it wasn’t merely a product of his imagination.  Asclepius’ presence was not as familiar to him as he would have liked, thanks to their forced separation, but there was still the distinctive edge of care, of healing and light and love, that sang out to Apollo’s own essence.

Down here, it was less of a song and more of a cry for help.  Apollo had to answer it, no matter what his uncle thought.

He’d failed Asclepius too many times.  He couldn’t fail him again.

Tartarus tore at his feet as he walked, uncaring that he was a god – or perhaps reminding him that Tartarus was a primordial, far, far greater than Apollo could ever hope to be, and that by willingly falling into the Pit, he had placed himself at the absent mercy of the primordial.  His form constantly resealed, faster than ichor could spill, and compared to the agonies of mortality, it was nothing, so Apollo didn’t let it bother him.

Nor would he let his waning power bother him.  He could feel it, had been able to feel it since they fell, his hands clutching his uncle tightly to stay together – how quickly things changed.  Away from the light, away from the sun and songs and music and life, his power was less.  There was no drama surrounding it – it was not sudden, and compared to his time as Lester it was negligible, but Apollo was still aware of it.

There was a time limit.  The longer he stayed in Tartarus, so far removed from the domains he was best known for, the ones that gave him his greatest power, the weaker he would become, and the greater the danger the Pit posed to him would become in turn.

Apollo was not so weak that it would be a problem soon, but time in Tartarus passed oddly, perhaps because of his grandfather’s scattered remains, or perhaps simply because Tartarus did not care for things such as time and so it had no reliable hold.  What was time to a being as old as the Pit?  Compared to Tartarus, Apollo might as well be the same young child he was when he’d battled Python the first time around.

It was not a comforting thought.

He latched onto Asclepius’ faint presence – was it faint because of distance, or because his son was Fading?  The pessimistic part of Apollo whispered it was both, and he increased his pace, ignoring the monsters on his periphery as they eyed him, no doubt wondering why one of the Olympians was traipsing through their birthplace, place of re-birth.

Apollo was not so naïve as to expect them to be staying back out of any degree of fear.  Even in the Overworld, it was hate, not fear, that monsters held for the gods.  Down here, in their own respawning zone, it was contempt that Apollo could feel.  What did it matter that he could slay them with a single arrow?  They would be reborn again, and Apollo suspected that the rebirths would not take long.

At least, not for monsters that opposed Apollo.  His time as a mortal had taught him that things typically did not go his way.  Part of him longed to see Crest again, to hear some blissful music in this place of glass and moans and hate, but Crest did not deserve to get tangled up in another of Apollo’s quests, pitted against his own kind and punished for it.  Indeed, if he did that here, in the Pit, defying Tartarus himself… it was all too likely there would be no rebirth for him ever again.

No, it was for the best that Crest did not respawn while Apollo was down here, or if he had, that their paths did not cross.

He kept walking, kept following Asclepius’ too-faint presence while watched by monsters whose contempt and curiosity would not hold them back from attacking forever, and tried not to think about whether Hades was continuing their original quest or would decide it wasn’t his problem after all and return to the Underworld.  Earlier, Apollo would not have thought he would, but after the unpleasant realisation about Asclepius’ new punishment, he was less deposed towards positive thoughts regarding his uncle.  In fact, he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross paths with Hades again for some time.

Certainly not before Asclepius was safe and out of the Pit.  Where he would go to avoid his father’s wrath, Apollo did not know, but he would find somewhere.  Delos, perhaps; when it came to Asclepius, Artemis had little room to complain.  It had been for her benefit that the Physician’s Cure had been created, and while Apollo knew she regretted the resulting fallout and had forgiven her unfortunate part in Asclepius’ death – she was his twin, his other half, how could he not forgive her – he was still not above using it to ensure his son’s safety if it came to it.

First of all, though, he had to find Asclepius, and that was not a task that Tartarus was making simple.  The Phlegethon ran, its scorching flames searing cold, some way off to his left as he traipsed across the vicious glass-sand of its banks, while on his right, the sheer cliffs that marked the edge of the Pit towered high above, disappearing into clouds of ominous crimson, the colour of fresh mortal blood.  The surface of the cliff itself was jagged and threatening, a reminder that while there was a high-security prison within Tartarus, the Pit itself was a prison, and generally discouraged departure, especially for things it did not want to leave.  Between the two, where Apollo was walking, the ground was pitted with crevasses and riddled with structures not unlike volcanoes; nothing overly dangerous to a god, but still obstacles that needed to be navigated, taking time that Apollo could not confidently track and did not have to spare as he scrambled ungainly across a lattice of jagged boulders blocking his path and then took a running leap over a gash the width of the throne room of Olympus.

He almost didn’t make it, hands scrabbling at the lip and staining the dark, glassy stones with gold as the edges crumbled away beneath his grip.  For one terrifying moment, he thought he would fall, down into unimaginable depths that didn’t feel like Chaos itself but would likely be not much easier to escape.

A surge of fear, triggered by the thought of Chaos, of remembering Python and unravelling into non-existence, gave him the strength to grab a little bit further, onto a piece of jagged Tartarus ground, and haul himself out of the chasm.  He scrambled out, on his hands and knees in a fashion far more like the mortal Lester than the god Apollo, and gave himself a moment to recompose.

His hands were covered in gold, the wounds sealing instantly but the evidence remaining until he wiped it on the fabric beneath his armour, before remembering that he could just will it away.

It was a warning, a small taste of what Tartarus could do even to a god.  Apollo was well aware that things would get far, far worse before the prophecy was fulfilled and the quest over.  He knew that Nico had, in a manner of speaking, survived Tartarus before, as had the combined forces of Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, but in the Pit himself, facing the trial of Tartarus at full godly strength, he honestly could not see how they had managed it.

He was more certain than ever that Will would not have done.  Not because he doubted his son – Will was powerful, resourceful, and smart – but because Tartarus truly was the antithesis of everything Will was.

It was also the antithesis of everything Asclepius was, and Apollo clung to the traces of his son’s presence tightly as he pulled himself to his feet again, glaring at the monsters that had inched closer, sensing brief weakness in the god in their midst.  He had a son to rescue.

He resumed his trek, following the wall of the Pit and increasingly aware that the glow of the Phlegethon was getting ever closer as he walked.  While he knew of the rivers, what they did and the dangers they posed, Apollo didn’t know the paths they took within the PIt.  He did know that, at some point, he would need to cross the river of fire in order to reach the Prison itself, because Hades would not have taken that route if there was an alternative one, but beyond that, he was in the uncomfortable position of not knowing, which was not a position the god of knowledge ever liked to find himself.

As he advanced, he kept to the wall, feeling the slight incline beneath his feet that said he was getting deeper into Tartarus, and continued to track his son’s presence, concerned that no matter how far he seemed to walk, there was no noticeable strengthening.

Assuming he had been punished shortly after Apollo’s memory gap began, Asclepius had been in Tartarus for a year; that wasn’t a long time in the lifespan of a god, but Apollo could personally attest to how some short spans of time could be the most impactful – and dangerous.

Apollo kept walking, not needing to pause for a rest like he would have done as Lester, as a mortal rather than a god, but even he could not tell how long he had kept going for with the fluidity and distortion of time within the Pit.  It could have been mere minutes, or hours, or days.  Weeks, months, years – Apollo hoped not, but even he with his usual innate sense of time (a necessity in his role as the god of the sun) could not say with any conviction that it had not been.

Eventually – after minutes or eons or both - it became apparent that the strip of glassy ground between the wall and the river was shrinking with the eventual fate of disappearing entirely as the fire rushed to meet the solid wall, cutting off Apollo’s current route and forcing him to make a crossing.  Unlike where he had parted ways with Hades however long ago, the river here was wide as well as furious, easily triple its earlier width as it crashed into the wall before zig-zagging along it with tongues of fire leaping up and illuminating more of the dark, jagged material that made up that particular edge of the prison.

The river was one of healing, but it was not Apollo’s brand of healing.  It did not heal out of love, but cruelty, forcing bodies to go past their limits, to endure, and denying souls the release of ending their existence.  At least, that was its role in the Underworld, as it ran past the Fields of Punishment and sustained the souls of the wicked condemned to an eternity of torture.

Apollo had no doubt that it was even crueller down in Tartarus, rushing eagerly towards the heart of the primordial.

Unfortunately, it was between him and Asclepius, and Apollo dared not take the extra time to backtrack all the way to where he had left Hades to find a narrower stretch.  Asclepius’ presence was too faint for that, and part of him feared losing track of his son if he headed away from him again.

He didn’t stop walking until he was right on the banks, feeling the frigid heat of the flames licking up at him, almost eagerly waiting for him to take the first step into its clutches.

Apollo didn’t have another choice.  He took the step.

Phlegethon couldn’t kill him; the river god was old, but Apollo was an Olympian.  Perhaps once, pain would have been enough to make him falter – pain was not a familiar sensation for gods, after all, and while they could physically endure it, mentally was another matter entirely – but Apollo had spent six months as a mortal, injured more often than not and more than once knocking on Thanatos’ door.

Compared to being flayed alive, being unravelled alongside Python on the edge of Chaos, the searing cold of the Phlegethon was nothing.

Apollo pushed forwards, feeling the outer layer of his form peeling away under the onslaught as the god lashed out at him.  One step after another, he descended into the river, catching glimpses of a face in the flickering flames, fragmented throughout the fire, his stature growing and growing to keep his head above water as the riverbed sank deeper and deeper.

It took effort, with both the river and the Pit fighting him, but Apollo knew that swimming the river would be a fools’ errand.  It might be a river, but it was fire, not water, and fire was categorically not for swimming in.  He didn’t know how the demigods had managed to cross, unless the river god had taken mercy on them.

Phlegethon certainly was not taking mercy on Apollo.

It was a battle of wills; the river god clearly did not wish to let Apollo pass, but Apollo’s son was on the other side, and he would not be kept from Asclepius by a river, even if said river was one of the Underworld rivers.

Ichor dripped into the flames, gold swallowed by blazing orange, and then onto the glassy shards of the Pit’s ground as Apollo emerged the other side of the river, his physical form shredded but regenerating rapidly.  No doubt he looked a terrible sight as he returned to a human size on the bank, feeling his body seal back up again now that the fire river could no longer sear it apart.  It certainly wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

Some of the ever-watching monsters clearly thought he looked weakened.  As he pulled himself upright, giving himself a moment to re-centre after the ordeal of fire water – and resignedly realising that he would likely need to cross it again to leave Tartarus – a troop of empousai swooped upon him, batting eyelashes even as they lunged for the kill.

Each one fell to a single arrow long before they could reach him, and Apollo was aware of the slight retreat of the other observing monsters.  Very few fled entirely, though, and he knew that they were biding their time, waiting for Tartarus to wear him down further.

They had time, numbers, and regeneration on their side, after all.

Apollo refused to hold arrows at the ready; his draw time was fast enough that, against monsters like these, he didn’t need to broadcast any wariness.  He kept his head high and his grip on his bow relaxed as ichor dissolved away, leaving him as unblemished as he had been before his trip through the Phlegethon, and continued striding across the surface of the Pit, towards where he could sense his son.

Beneath his feet, the ground was softer this side of the river.  Not by much – glassy shards still tore at the soles of his form – but enough to let him know that he was definitely heading towards the most aware, alive parts of the Pit, and not away.  The Phlegethon rushing past him, following the shallow yet seemingly endless incline deeper into Tartarus, cemented the knowledge that he was heading in that direction.

It was not a comforting thought; Asclepius was highly intelligent and would have known better than to stray too deep.  By himself, Apollo was certain he would have found somewhere to stay as far up as possible, which meant that Asclepius’ current location was not of his son’s choosing.

His fingers tapped out another jerky rhythm on his bow as he kept walking, tracking his son’s presence and trying not to think about how faint it still was.

The Phlegethon remained his constant companion as he walked, keeping its bright flames a little way to his right but more or less followings its course deeper into Tartarus, until the river took a sharp and unwelcome turn, peeling away from the wall of the Pit and slashing across Apollo’s path and off somewhere over on his left.

Asclepius’ presence was straight ahead, the other side of the fire river again, and Apollo realised that he would have to once more forge his way through the Phlegethon.

Thankfully, with its sharp turn, it had apparently narrowed once again, although it flowed even faster to compensate.

Apollo didn’t let himself hesitate.

The river was no more willing to let him cross unscathed than the first time.  If anything, it was more vicious, the flames energised by their rapid flow and seemingly aware that they had a smaller window of opportunity to punish him for his hubris of daring to wade through it.

Ichor dripped onto the bank as Apollo hauled himself out the other side, his physical form once again shredded by the frigid flames, and he sincerely hoped he wasn’t going to have to cross it many more times.

He feared how Asclepius would cope, once he found his son and they were headed back, towards the exit to the Overworld.  He was worried how many times Asclepius had already fallen foul of the river, let alone the other horrors of Tartarus.

The answer was certainly far more than Apollo would like – especially as Apollo’s preference had his son never touching Tartarus in the first place.

This side of the Phlegethon, the glass underfoot had completely faded away, replaced by something far more akin to a membrane, lurking just beneath the surface of a deceptive crust of soil.  Life – not life, but consciousness, awareness, the feeling of something alive – thrummed beneath Apollo’s feet, and he instantly decided he vastly preferred the constant laceration of his feet to this.

The Pit was Tartarus, and Tartarus was the Pit.  Further back, near the wall and the cliffs where they’d arrived, Apollo had been able to ignore that fact, been able to treat the surface beneath his feet as exactly how it had felt – shards of glass.  Painful, but negligible.

Crossing the Phlegethon for the second time, at the point when the wall of the Pit dived off into the distance and at some point switched to a yawning drop into something that had his essence jittering nervously rather than the impossibly high cavern, Apollo could no longer ignore the reality.  Tartarus surrounded him, mind and body and soul, and should the primordial choose to acknowledge his presence, he would be entirely at his mercy.

Here, where the deception fell away into a despairing reality, Apollo was free only so long as the Pit decreed it.

It was as far from a comforting thought at it was possible to get.

It also cemented Apollo’s desire – need – to find Asclepius and retreat back to the false safety offered by the other side of the Phlegethon as fast as possible.

If there was one positive to crossing the Phlegethon, it was that Asclepius’ presence was finally, finally, sharper.  For the first time since he’d started following it, it had noticeably strengthened, and Apollo dared to hope that meant it wouldn’t be much further before he found his son.  The presence still wasn’t at the level a god of Asclepius’ calibre should be, but considering how long he’d been in Tartarus, that was tragically unsurprising.

Despite knowing that, when he caught sight of an ichor-covered elderly male balled up at the base of one of the hair-like, branchless trees that protruded periodically between the blisters of respawning monsters that littered the membrane-plain he had entered shortly after leaving the Phlegethon far behind him, Apollo’s essence churned nauseatingly.

The last time he had laid eyes on Asclepius, his son had been a freshly-ascended god, still in the form of the fifteen year old child he had been when the Master Bolt took his life.  It had been a brief glimpse – allowed by his father only as proof that he truly had bestowed godhood upon his son – before Asclepius was snatched away and imprisoned for eternity, and Apollo was forbidden to see him again.

That had been four millennia ago, and visually it seemed impossible that the decrepit old man in of him could possibly be that same teenager-slash-newly ascended god, but despite their forced separation, Apollo knew his son’s presence.

He didn’t hesitate.

Much to Hermes’ distaste, Apollo had once won the title of fastest of the gods, and it was that speed he tapped into at the sight of his son, crossing the last stretch of membrane faster than the distorted time could keep up and kneeling beside the wounded god.

Wounded was barely adequate a word to describe Asclepius.  The golden ichor covering most of his skin and staining his simple chiton was clearly all his own.  As a god of healing – superior even to Apollo himself – the fact that he still had open wounds, ichor freely flowing down his withered form and pooling across Tartarus’ skin spoke of just how much Tartarus had drained him.

“Asclepius.”  Apollo could barely say his name, his voice coming out in a pained whisper.

Exhausted blue eyes blinked up at him, before widening sharply as his son tried to pull himself into a more upright position.  Without thinking, Apollo reached out and steadied him.

“Father?”  Asclepius’ voice was hoarse.  “You-  How..?”  The rasp trailed off, whether because of weakness or because he didn’t know what else to say, Apollo couldn’t tell.

“My son,” Apollo near-sobbed, wrapping his arms around him as though he were the fifteen year old demigod he still remembered with clarity four thousand years later and holding him close.  “You are not staying here.”  Asclepius was in an even worse condition than Apollo had feared; not just the stilted healing, but the physical form.  No god would ever willingly take on a form so withered and frail, but it was possible to force them into something similar should their powers or domains drain too far.

“But Grandfather-” Asclepius choked.  Apollo hushed him immediately.

“You are not staying here,” he repeated firmly, mentally pushing the problem of his father’s wrath to one side to be dealt with once Asclepius was no longer in the Pit.  It would need to be addressed, he was reluctantly and fearfully aware, but with his son in his arms, he couldn’t do anything but save him.

First, Asclepius needed strength, and a form that could stand and walk.  Apollo hummed, drawing on his own essence to forcibly bolster the healing hymn against the oppressive malaise of Tartarus.  Healing a god was nothing like healing a mortal – mortal bodies followed the same general pattern and rules, a sack of meat and bones and blood that had certain guidelines they needed to follow in order to function.

Gods were different, and not just because they tended to be too proud to let Apollo near their wounds even when they were injured severely enough that they didn’t regenerate rapidly.  No two gods were the same, their essence swirling in patterns that were unique to each one of them.  It was impossible to treat them the same way as a mortal.

Apollo pushed his own healing aura into Asclepius, seeking less to heal the wounds himself and more to share the strength to regenerate with his son.  In a location as hostile as Tartarus, it was hardly a safe thing to do, but it was the fastest and most reliable method.

In his embrace, his son visibly flourished, sagging and wrinkled skin retreating and freshening into something less gaunt, and the countless wounds that had been leaking ichor like free-flowing pipes sealed back up.

“Father.”  His son’s voice was stronger, as were the arms that wrapped around Apollo’s back, gripping him tightly for a blessed moment before slowly pulling back.  “You can stop now.”

Asclepius wasn’t fully restored.  Apollo could feel it as certainly as he could feel that he still had vast reserves of his own power to give.  His form had rewound to a mature man, with hair that was still white-grey rather than the dark mop of waves it had once been, but it was still an old form, forced rather than chosen.

Intellectually, he knew that his son was right; in Tartarus, Apollo needed all the power he could amass, especially as he could still feel the slow drain as the isolation from his own major domains continued to wear at his essence.  Still, he refused to stop, pushing revitalising energy into the younger god until Asclepius wriggled out of his grip like the teenager Apollo remembered him once being and pulled out of immediate reach.

“Father,” he scolded.  “This is enough for now.  We must move.”

He seemed jittery, all of a sudden, eyes darting around, and Apollo was faced with the obvious fact that in order for Asclepius to have been so injured, something must have been hurting him.  Something powerful enough to wear down a god – which, in Tartarus, could be any number of things.

Or beings.

Reluctantly, he rose to his feet again, glancing around warily for whatever threat Asclepius was fearing.  Nothing stood out, which was not reassuring.  Apollo hated hidden threats.

“Okay,” he agreed, picking up his bow from where he had dropped it to treat his son.  “Let’s-”

The sound was so familiar it simultaneously caught his attention immediately yet failed to register for several moments.  A powerful thwack, with a note like a lyre humming behind it, and a recognition that took a hair of a second to settle.

Asclepius’ wounds, leaking like punctured pipes.

A stalking threat, near-impossible to detect.

“Father!”

Apollo’s reaction was glacial in comparison to his son’s.  Asclepius body-checked him, an unusually aggressive move for a gentle healer, and it was that plus Apollo’s own instincts that had him shifting just far enough to one side.

His son was not so lucky, and a grunt of pain escaped the younger god as a hand flew to his upper arm, instinctively clutching at the new wound.  Ichor dripped down the skin, but Apollo’s focus was taken by the cause.

A thick, black shaft with rings of red and yellow protruded from between Asclepius’s clenching fingers, fletched with raven feathers.

Chapter 8>>>

[yetanotherseasonalblog]

finally got around to reading Romantic Killer and have thoughts

saw the trailer on Netflix and figured the manga would be better, so I spent last night reading a bunch of chapters. i like it overall and will try to finish it tonight, but there are some.....issues.

(if you read til the end there’s some recommendations too :3 )

1 the pacing is bad sometimes. like, REALLY bad

nearly two volumes are spent on Anzu and Kazuki exclusively. you’re emotionally invested in them as a couple, the end game is in sight. and just when the plot is entering the “obsessed fangirls find out about their relationship” arc....it’s dropped. they pick THAT moment to introduce a new guy. and not even one that makes sense, like a friend of Kazuki or another student - they go for the “childhood friend” route that’s canonically ripped out of their ass. its insanely disruptive to the story and almost caused me to drop it then & there.

2 if you think about it longer than 10 seconds, it becomes a horror manga

Riri the fairy is genuinely the most evil mascot character since Kyuubei. their antics very quickly stop being funny and start veering into “objectively horrifying”. we have total mind control, brainwashing, driving people into homelessness, and eventually just forcing hot guys to fall in love with Anzu. lives are either up-ended or destroyed, and Riri doesn’t even try to hide the fact that this is for purely personal gain.

3 the root cause of Anzu’s problems is never talked about

i went into this mostly on the curiosity of why Anzu was so against getting a boyfriend. maybe she’d gotten hurt in the past, or her resistance was a mask for low self-esteem? nah, turns out she’s just lazy. Anzu is addicted to sources of instant gratification (video games, junk food, pets) and has no interest in a boyfriend purely because social relationships take work.

in the long run Riri is right to stage an intervention...but it’s undermined by all this romance cliche bullshit. it would’ve been easier (and more impactful to the audience because, let’s be honest, a LOT of us here are Anzu) if they’d just called Anzu out on what a spoiled and lazy brat she is and say they’re doing this before she ruins her own life.

4 its a satire of shoujo romance tropes...but makes fun of the outdated ones while being unironically full of the current ones

this takes decent amount of knowledge of manga history to notice. a lot of the tropes Riri is trying to pull off were common in manga from the 20th century. those were the days of the skinny, princess-like manga heroine who falls for the manly hero who protects her from danger (even when she has g-d superpowers and he doesn’t). a good example would be Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask. but, starting in the early 2000s, manga heroines started getting more realistic - more tomboyish, average looks, and simply more independent in general. this describes Romantic Killer to a T.

everything that’s supposed to make Anzu an “anti-shoujo” MC...i’ve seen MCs do in other shoujo. none of them super recent either. in fact, her whole character could accurately be described as just a spicier version of Haruhi Fujioka from OHSHC.

as i mentioned i’m not saying Romantic Killer is bad, it’s just Not Perfect. even with the above issues, it’s still a solid read. other titles you may also enjoy would be Ouran High School Host Club, FIVE, Boku no Orion, and Skip Beat.