#Ya we know the illusions in the paintings is how he kills

[akuma-ren]

I feel like people(myself included) forget that rafayel can create illusions! There's so much ahem potential with that

[sukirichi]

illusion

— does one dare wake up from the illusion of love?

meal order: 🥞🍷 + 20, 58 (assassin! reader, oblivious! noritoshi) + 13 (thigh riding) + love at first sight + “wait, are you flirting with me?” + “have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.” 

warnings: attempted murder, sexual content, character death, angst, dark themes of violence, unedited fic 

note: thank you for the request! it was really challenging to write this but i’m all up for trying new things!

word count: 4k+

“Don’t think I don’t know you’re slacking.”

You glared at the dark haired man before you who was greedily sucking on a cigarette, the cloudy puffs of smoke breathed into your face. “Shut up, Toji,” you pressed your lips before waving your hand to get rid of the smoke. He was so rude, but because he was stronger and a far more skilled than you were, you wouldn’t dare fight back or complain. He knew this too; a smug smirk painting his dark, handsome features. “I’m just struggling, is all.”

“You, struggling?” his head tipped back in laughter, “Weren’t you so arrogant that you’d do anything for money?”

“And I still will. There’s just a sudden change of circumstances.”

“Such as?” he raised a brow challengingly, huge arms crossed over his equally muscular chest. Leaning over your window like that with the lights dimmed low, Toji looked absolutely threatening. You had no qualms that he’d rip your head off if given the order and enough money to do so, so you had to be careful with your words lest you wanted to die – or worse; he becomes a victim of this merciless man.

You narrowed your eyes, fists bunching up to your ripped black jeans. “A change of mind.”

“It seems like you had a change of heart too,” he noted, and you cursed inwardly. Fuck, of course he’d notice. Before you could come on the defense, Toji pushed himself away from the window with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “But whatever. Good luck, kid. I’ll just hope that you get to kill your target before the bosses kill you first.”

“I’m not going to die. It’s not like I changed or anything.”

“Yeah, not like you’re giggling just down the hall staring at your target’s picture,” he rolled his eyes, snorting to himself. “Because that’s totally normal for us assassins, right?”

“Oh, shut up, Toji. Don’t you have better things to do than annoy me?”

“I’m never missing the opportunity to mess with ya, kid,” you held back a groan when he messed up your hair, your precious untouchable hair. “Oh, and the boss called. He said if we still don’t have the head by tonight, I’m being sent in,” your heart dropped at his words, silence coating the room. Nothing but your frantic heartbeat pulsed at the tip of your tongue as your hands grew sweaty and slippery, but Toji’s next words had you looking up at him with wide eyes. “Go and get your precious lover before I come around, kid. I’m not going to be nice just for you.”

Was it a warning? A threat? A heads-up? Fuck, nothing mattered anymore – you had to finish your mission before it was too late.

The sound of Toji slamming the door behind you finally snapped you from your dazed state. Greeting you was the sight of your dark, lifeless room – empty and gray like how you were. Before you met him. But things were different now; in your mission of bringing death and shedding blood, you came across the person who gave you life and meaning to this…this bland and pathetic excuse of a life.

If you didn’t move sooner, it would be too late.

Teeth gritted, you were quick on your feet as you swiped up your handy blade, bandages wrapping around your fists for protection before you followed Toji out, only this time, the man was already gone.

You needed to move. Now.

Noritoshi stepped inside his room with a soft sigh, eyes closed and pretty, masculine hands loosening his inner shirt. Perhaps it was because his window was still kept shut and not a sound could be heard from his room that he let his guard down, and nothing but a slight hiss fell from his lips when you lunged at him, blade pressed against his neck.

He was unable to move with one of your arms keeping his arms pinned to his own body, the other holding the blade firmly to his delicate skin. A slight trickle of blood dripped down his porcelain skin when you edged it a little harder, the shaky inhale from Noritoshi causing your mind to fall into ruin. But not now – you wouldn’t give in right now. You had a mission to finish; one you had to complete successfully like you always did.

“What are you doing?” He asked calmly, voice soothing and still so gentle even as you breathed hard on his ear. There was no trace of anger or even malice – just the usual doting kindness Noritoshi always gave just for you. You hated it; hated every single about him. “How did you get in here?”

“I need to kill you.”

“You’re still going through with that?” his fingers caressed your thigh, eliciting a soft gasp from you when Noritoshi only leaned closer to your touch, tilting his head so he could peer into your blazing eyes. “I thought we were past this already.”

You laughed at his words before sneering, “This doesn’t change anything. I will kill you somehow, Noritoshi Kamo. And when I’ve got your head in the palm of my hands, I’ll be filthy rich.”

“Then why don’t you get it over with?” he stepped closer to the blade itself, almost pushing you to the edge with his movements. “Come here and see if you’re strong enough.”

You growled threateningly when more blood trailed down and stained his shirt. Instantly, you shoved your blade away from him until it switched to one of his tied side bangs, the hair falling onto the ground with a thump. “Testing me, huh? Are you doubting my skills, Kamo?”

“Not the least bit, no,” he shook his head, refusing to move from your suffocating hold. If anything, he made himself comfortable in your arms, a lopsided smile on his annoyingly handsome features.

You’ve heard rumors that your target was popular among his people and even had countless marriage proposals already; one you didn’t believe until you met the man himself, and as if reminding you of the difficulty of the situation, you just had to be one of those women who nearly fell at his feet. But could anyone blame you? Which sane person would be able to uphold their mission when Noritoshi Kamo leaned close like that, the tip of his nose brushing yours and the warmth of his breath kissing your lips?

“I’ve heard of you – you’ve got quite the reputation,” his dark eyes trailed over your lips that were fallen open, your breathing still hard and ragged. Noritoshi hummed to himself, his tongue darting out to moisten his pink flesh. “Which is why I can’t seem to comprehend why I’m still alive. Could it be there’s something else that you want more than money?”

“Perhaps I do,” you smirked, trying to ignore the way you felt like you were the one being held captive this time. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Choose the intelligent option, of course. I’ll negotiate with you.”

“And if what I want is unattainable?”

His response came as a reflex: “Nothing is unattainable with money.”

“Always the confident one, huh, Kamo?” you scoffed with a ‘tsk’ of your tongue, “One day, I’m going to break this noble leader act of yours. Soon, you’ll fall into this same trap of hell as I have, and maybe then we’ll both be a little crazy,” at your suggestion, Noritoshi only raised a brow, tilting his head to the side as he released a soft sight. You couldn’t read his face and it irked you to no end, a grin masking your irritation as you twirled the blade around your fingers. “What’s wrong, Kamo? Cat got your tongue?”

“Hmm. You really are beautiful, you know that?”

“Huh?” you stepped back as you fell aghast, your jaw dropping while Noritoshi only smiled. Fuck that smile – he had no business being this gorgeous, and you only sneered louder when his skin began to heal. “You out of your mind, Kamo? Are you forgetting who I am?”

“The pretty assassin who’s been out to get me for months now but still hasn’t killed me for whatever odd reason?” Your face burned at the way he nonchalantly said it, but Noritoshi didn’t give you time to recover as he stepped forwards, closer, his hands brushing up against the pads of your cheek. “No, I haven’t forgotten who you are. I could never forget you – not when you’ve been chasing me and we’ve been playing this game of chase for who knows how long.”

“Careful, Kamo. What would your precious elders say if they find out you’re fraternizing with the enemy?” you chuckled at the image of Noritoshi having his ear talked down by those annoying, traditional elders, but the smile fell off your face when Noritoshi continued to stare at you. “Wait, did you just call me pretty? Like, as in, pretty pretty?”

“Yes, and now you’re blushing like crazy,” he booped your nose, firing up the bubbling anger inside you. How dare he mock you like this! Your feet planted on the ground as you prepared to lunge at him when Noritoshi stilled, his strong arms wrapping around your wrist tight enough that even you froze at how strong he was. Had he been holding back on you this whole time? Could he have really easily fought back against you but chose not to for whatever messed up reason?

Before you could get your answer, Noritoshi’s eyes slid over to yours, this time wide with worry. The smile left his face. “You should leave. They’re coming.”

You blinked back up at him helplessly, your body almost turning limp. Seeing that you weren’t moving fast enough, Noritoshi frowned, wrapping your fingers tighter around your blade before pointing to his window where you’d broken in a while ago. “You need to go. Now.”

“C-Can I see you again tonight?” you found yourself asking, legs already perched on the windowsill. You knew it was pathetic, to have trembling pouty lips when you were seconds away from making a deadly fall and yet you were more worried about him. The thought of Toji coming the moment he heard you still hadn’t killed Noritoshi made your hands and legs shake, heart clenching painfully with fear. Noritoshi may be strong, but he was nothing against Toji. “I want to see you again,” and again and again and again – for as long as you were allowed.

Though you’d never tell him that.

Not that you needed to, though, because Noritoshi could read you better than yourself, and he only smiled, never making fun of how vulnerable and horrible you were at keeping your feelings a secret. You were too easy to read sometimes, or maybe he just had a skill of knowing everything that ran in your mind.

“Would it stop you if I said no?”

“Of course not,” you frowned, then looked out the setting sun that held an ominous vibe to it now. Eyes closed and a sad heart begging to be closer to him, you buried it all deep within, turning to Noritoshi with an aching smile. “Live your life to the fullest, Kamo. This might just be your last day.”

Noritoshi chuckled softly to himself. “I’ll keep the windows open, then.”

It was way past midnight, and neither you nor Toji came around. He’d already heard that someone else was sent for him due to his precious little lover falling in love with him at first sight that caused her to fail her mission, and Noritoshi paced around his room, arms folded on his chest as he thought of the different ways they could’ve executed you already.

He hadn’t known you for a long enough time to know everything about you. It didn’t help that you weren’t the most open either, refusing to tell him more about your life and the people you worked for whenever he asked.

Noritoshi understood your discomfort when it came to sensitive topics like that.

It wasn’t easy, after all, to talk about the countless people whose lives you’d taken for money prior to meeting him. Noritoshi was well-aware he was another name on your hit list that could be crossed out had it been under different circumstances; circumstances such as him easily defeating you on the first day you met him before he had you pinned to the ground, both your bodies panting heavily.

One thing led to another, and Noritoshi grew an obsession with you.

It was fucked up, to say the least – that he actually looked forward to having you jump on him out of nowhere, bringing different weapons and techniques for various ways to kill him this time.

There was one time you both went out on a date, glasses covering your eyes and hats pulled over so no one would recognize any of you walking into the dark movie theatre. None of you could pay attention to the movie when you placed yourself in his lap, and suddenly he felt so thankful he bought the whole theatre for himself because he sure as hell couldn’t keep his voice down while you rode his dick like he was just a mere plaything.

Your hands then travelled around his neck as you pulled him in for a searing kiss. Second by second, his vision grew faint with his head dizzy, the air being knocked out of him as you crushed his windpipe with increasing pressure.

He wasn’t surprised that you would try to kill him while cumming around his cock – you were the most painful pleasure that could kill him, literally – and he had to push you off so hard your head hit the ground until you were knocked out.

Noritoshi had lost count of the times you tried to kill him, purely because you always tried to seduce him one way or another.

He believed it was one of your strategies into luring your prey right into your trap, which he fell for every single time. The rational part of himself (which wasn’t that much when it came to you to begin with) told him to increase his security, to always be prepared and have some sort of weapon or blood readied out to defend himself, but him being him, he always kept the window unlocked.

Noritoshi was reminded of his mistakes when his back was harshly kicked, his arm painfully bent and pressed to his lower back while your knee planted itself onto his spine, your sweet laughter bouncing from his ears. “Wasn’t expecting me, Kamo?” you teased, twisting his arm hard enough that he winced at the pain. “I thought you’d be ready.”

“I’m never ready for you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Even in his slightly limped state, Noritoshi managed a smile. “Why? Does it make you want to kill me less?”

“Oh, you’re vermin, Kamo. My blood boils every time I see you!”

Perhaps you weren’t any better than him. You let your guard down too easily when it came to your emotions flaring up, and before you knew it, Noritoshi had pushed himself off the ground and flipped you under him, knee planted between your legs and your arms pinned to your side.

Your blade fell with a pathetic clang on the floor.

You struggled against his hold despite the comfort of having him above you like this, his gorgeous muscles displayed through his poor excuse of a shirt. Noritoshi only slammed your arms harder on the ground to keep you immobile, his words gentle and too sweet in comparison to his roughness.

He leaned closer, eyes filled with adoration and lust staring down at you. You thought he would kiss you when his lips suddenly turned the other way, his tongue prodding on the lobe of your ear that had you gasping underneath him.

The sound of your breathy whines had his blood shooting straight up onto his cock, pressing his now hardening erection against your heated core that he’d had the privilege of fucking and eating countless of times before – though he’d never get tired of it; he would never get tired of you.

“Then why do you keep coming back?”

“What else, idiot?”

Your irritated response had him pulling him back, his brows furrowed as he loosened his hold on you. Just like that, Noritoshi let go of you, his back hitting his bed frame as he frowned, pointing to himself in disbelief. “Wait, are you flirting me?”

That earned him a roll of your eyes in response. You pushed yourself up from the floor and glared at him, massaging the bruises that would form into your skin soon. “Have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.”

“I thought getting me to bed was one of your ways to kill me,” he scratched his head, and he really shouldn’t be looking that cute. “I don’t know whether to be afraid or flattered—”

Noritoshi wouldn’t stop rambling on and on about how this whole time, he had no idea you liked him back and he’d endlessly chastised himself for falling for an assassin. Quite frankly, you had too much of his endless babbling that you pushed him until he fell on the bed, not wasting any time before you planted yourself on his lap and sitting on it like a throne.

“Shut up and kiss me, Kamo.”

When you grinded on his erection, Noritoshi lost it. He no longer had control of himself before he kissed you madly, his hands bunching your shirt up and helping you fling it to the side. Pupils blown wide as if he’d never seen you bare before, Noritoshi pushed the cups of your bra above your breasts, his lips latching onto a perky nipple while his other hand tweaked it between his fingers.

Your head fell back in pleasure as you let him ravage you, soft little gasps leaving your lips while you rode his thigh.

Noritoshi groaned into your breasts at the sight of you eagerly fucking yourself on his thigh, moaning louder when he clenched and you bounced you above his muscle.

“If I’d known you’d look this beautiful riding me like this,” his mouth left your lips before he settled onto your neck instead, nipping and tugging at the skin until he was sure he’d have you marked black and blue. “I would’ve opened my windows long ago,” he cupped your breasts, his cock twitching in his pants as you rubbed your clit all over his pants, mewling when one of his fingers rubbed at your clothed folds. “Do you think it’s fate?”

You laughed through the drunken state of pleasure, “You’re asking me if it’s fate that I’m sent to kill you but I’m fucking you here instead?”

“That’s one way to word it.”

“I don’t know, I don’t care,” your head fell on his shoulders as you clenched around nothing. Noritoshi took it upon himself to tug your panties to the side, his cock only hardening further because you wore a skirt for him tonight, almost as if you were expecting to be fucked senseless by his dick.

Well, if that was your wish, then who was he to deny you?

The feeling of you sliding down his length had you both moaning and groaning, the stretch of him feeling you up to the brim too magnificent to describe. Noritoshi pulled you closer until your tits were right at his face, free for him to kiss and worship. You whimpered when Noritoshi’s large hands cupped your ass to bring you upwards, your moan shattered and shaky as he let gravity drop you down his thick length, the pattern of you bouncing onto him sending heat all over your body.

“One thing’s for sure,” you managed through gritted teeth, “It’s definitely an unfortunate curse that I can’t kill you because I’m so in love with you.”

Noritoshi stopped with his movements, letting you rest at the base of his cock instead while you caught your breaths. Your eyes were closed, fingers clenching tight at the material of his shirt. Noritoshi didn’t need for you to tell him more to understand that you were risking a lot more than he was for falling with one another, because you’ve failed your mission, and a failed mission always guaranteed a most painful death.

“Hey,” Noritoshi tapped your cheek, “Hey, look at me,” he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him, and his gaze softened when tears shone into those pretty eyes of yours. You’ve never let him see you cry before, but you couldn’t help it, teeth sinking into your lip to stop the tears from flowing while Noritoshi’s strong arms wrapped around you comfortingly. “I’ll protect you, okay?”

“You say that as if I can’t look after myself.”

“I know you can. You did just nearly break my arm, so I’m not worried,” you both laughed, and he smiled wider upon seeing that you’ve livened up a little bit. That was all he wanted to see – to see you smile. “But I mean it. I’ll protect you – take care of you. You can abandon your old life and just live with me.”

“But I’m a regular, boring human. You’re about to be head of the Kamo Clan – what could I possibly offer?”

“Everything and nothing, but know that I’m not asking or expecting anything from you,” his thumbs were gentle as he cupped your cheek, “Just stay here. With me. We’ll work it out.”

You fell silent, unable to process the gravity of his words. The more you thought about it, the more it enticed you. No more killing, no more crying yourself to sleep or trying to hold back a scream as you washed the blood off your body, no more images of the people you’ve killed haunting you everywhere you went. Instead, you could live a happy life with Noritoshi. He was powerful and influential – he could easily give you a life.

But it wouldn’t be a life if you failed your mission.

You knew that much – no one escaped from the higher-ups and no one got out unless they were killed, either during their mission or by defecting. Not even Noritoshi could protect you from that, but he gazed up at you so hopefully, so lovingly that you wanted to bask in this glow and illusion of happiness a little longer.

So you smiled, rubbing your nose against his that had you both giggling like lovesick teens. “You’re so cheesy it’s disgusting, Kamo. I really regret not killing you now.”

“You wound me,” he placed a hand over his chest before pinching his cheeks, “But I suppose it’s only fair – you quite kill me with your cuteness too.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

For now, while you could still have him the way you wanted him, while he was still safe, you allowed yourself to drown in pleasure. Limbs tangled with one another and names breathily spoken while he marked you as his own, his seed painting your womb that you eventually lost count of.

This was love – the illusion of it, at least.

You stared at Noritoshi as he slept soundly beside you, his hair splattered everywhere. He was too exhausted to notice you slowly slipping off the bed, wiping the mixture of both your cum away with a towel before tugging your clothes back on. Glancing one last time at his still sleeping form, you lifted up a tile just under his study, pulling out the heavy and deadly weapons you’d planted long ago just in case.

Your heart dropped in your chest when the door suddenly opened. No creaking sound indicated that it did, but the slight gush of wind entering the room made the hairs on your arm prickle up.

On instinct, you wrapped a hand around your special gun and aimed it at the person smirking down at you. His eyes travelled from Noritoshi safely tucked under the blankets to your defensive pose just before him, the safety of the gun flipped open. This time, your hands no longer shook, and your eyes were hard and determined as you matched the dark look on his face.

“Step away, kid. You don’t want things to get messy.”

“I won’t let you hurt him, Toji,” Toji was surprised when you suddenly dropped your gun on the bed, palms raised beside your head in surrender. “I, Y/N, member of the Dark Shadows organization therefore surrender my title and submits to the punishment I must receive. As a last wish from a lifelong loyal member of your organization, I humbly ask that you respect my wish to keep Noritoshi Kamo safe from your missions. Forever.”

You could never live a happy life with Noritoshi, but there was still a way you could keep him safe; one that came with the price of your death.

The Dark Shadows was a shady organization with nameless and faceless leaders, the members like you and Toji blindly following orders from a “messenger.” You were born into this organization with a random name given to you as an assassin title. You always hated it, but you also didn’t know what life without being an assassin was like, so you followed them until the end. It just never occurred to you that you would use your last wish this way, for everyone always had a dying wish that the organization had to follow.

Toji’s eyes darkened; clearly, he believed you were doing a mistake. But the more you thought of Noritoshi’s smile, his laughter, his future – it was all worth it.

“I, Fushiguro Toji, a witness of your death, hereby respect your last wish.”

The sound of desperate crying – the first time you’ve cried ever since you were born – stirred Noritoshi awake from his slumber, but before he could catch your falling body, a gunshot had already fired in the air.

[marvelhero-fics]

Snowman

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip. 

A/N: I haven’t posted in like 300 years, but I hope you guys enjoy this new series! This follows parts of TFATWS so expect spoilers! (Also I’m sure all the Russian is absolutely wrong, if you’d like to correct it please send me a message!)

Word Count: 1,815 (future chapters will be wayyy longer)

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist

New York

2023

“So tell me about this-” the therapist looked down at her notes briefly, “(Y/N).” She finished.

Bucky paused momentarily, “No.”

“James, for these therapy sessions to be effective, you need to open up to me. I can’t help you if I don't know what’s wrong.” His therapist responded, laying her pen carefully on her small notebook.

Bucky thought for a moment, taking in the ambience of the room. What would he even say about (Y/N)? He hadn’t seen her in years. Bucky was kicking himself for accidentally bringing her up in his session last week. “I- uh-” he stammered, shifting his weight on the couch, “I met her in 2011. At least I think it was 2011. Date’s get kinda fuzzy sometimes, with all the cryo.” Bucky’s hand pressed against his head, feeling dazed as he tried to think back. “It was at the big HYDRA base outside of Moscow. We had to go on a mission together-” he was cut off,

“Did she work for HYDRA?” Dr Raynor interjected.

“Yea. She was an assassin too. She went by the alias the Viper.” Bucky pretended not to notice his therapist tense up. Anyone who knew anything about HYDRA knew who the Viper was. She was one of the most prolific assassins after the Winter Soldier.

“Tell me more about when you met her.”

“We were instructed to take out a terrorist organisation forming against SHIELD. Which was ironic because we were working for a terrorist organisation. But at this point SHIELD was being run by HYDRA and they couldn’t risk any slip ups, so they put 6 assassins on the job. HYDRA usually didn’t have their assassins working together, we were all too volatile. But we had to take out over 70 people in one night. It was (Y/N), a few assassins from the Red Room, and a few agents that HYDRA had trained personally, and me.” Bucky stopped.

“Where was (Y/N) trained?”

“At a secondary facility run by HYDRA. She was trained from a really young age. It’s all she’s known.” Bucky seemed somber. But his therapist continued,

“What happened on the mission?”

“Nothing. It went exactly to plan. The targets were taken out and we all left without a trace. But (Y/N), she- she kept trying to talk to me, or get to know me. I was the Winter Soldier. No one in their right mind ever tried to ‘get to know me’.”

“Why do you think (Y/N) did that?”

“She told me she was bored.” He replied bluntly.

Moscow

2011

The poorly lit conference room was filled with a myriad of assassins and officials. The only illumination came from old LED lights hanging from the concrete ceiling. The mossy green paint on the walls looked as if it hadn’t been patched up in years. The only new-ish part of the room was the large, oak conference table, surrounded by black, leather seating. It was difficult not to notice the red HYDRA symbol holding a spot on almost every piece of clothing in the area.

“TITAN terroristicheskaya organizatsiya, formiruyushchayasya protiv nas. (TITAN is a terrorist organisation forming against us.)” Kuznetsov spoke, “Izbrannyye budut otpravleny segodnya vecherom v Ukrainu dlya vypolneniya postavlennoy zadachi. Uberi ikh. (The chosen ones will be sent to Ukraine tonight to complete their given tasks. Take them out.)”

That was all it took. You stared at the file in front of you. You had read through it multiple times, going over every single name, every single skill set your targets had. You were more than certain you could complete this job on your own. But you had no choice on the matter.

Your eyes darted around, taking in the faces of the assassins that were to accompany you on your mission. Two youthful females, dressed in black leather sat next to each other. The older, grimacing woman behind them was Madame B., the head supervisor of the Red Room. You moved your gaze to the two agents in dark green uniforms and red, soviet berets. Neither looked particularly menacing.

You finally landed on the last assassin. His dark hair fell like curtains around his face. Gloomy blue eyes searched their way through the room. His sharp jaw seemed tense through his stubbled cheeks. He was large, extremely built. Covering his frame was an amplitude of black clothing and gear.

“Play nice.” Your mentor spoke softly over your shoulder, breaking you from your train of thought.  

“I always do.”

~

Your padded snow boots ripped through the thick snow covering the ground. The six of you had hiked your way to the set point on your GPS systems, the clouds of snowfall covering your vision held the illusion that there were absolutely no structures nearby. A large helicopter had dropped the group a few miles out from the hideout to ensure nothing was compromised. The trek was in utter silence, fighting against the harsh temperature in mid February.

The waypoint became closer on your map, a tiny building slowly appeared in your vision against the foggy downfall. It was a small, wooden cabin. Everyone hustled their way through the unlocked door. It was barren, it held no furniture, no blankets, no means of any life. There appeared to be a few doors that led to small, empty rooms. The entrance only held a small fireplace, filled with old cut down logs that had been eaten by bugs.

The group quickly dispersed, you headed to one of the rooms alone, throwing down your belongings onto the floor. The bag you carried was mainly filled with weapons and ammunition, along with a very warm sleeping bag. You knew too well you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, but you would need the extra heat for now.

There was no chatter anywhere in the house. Your mission would begin in 6 hours. Everyone was likely putting together their artillery. You decided to cozy up in your navy sleeping bag for a moment of comfort.

Someone had lit the fire in the lounge. A warm, orange light crept through the cracks in your door. The ambiance was strangely calming for a shitty cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Snow continued to fall against the tiny glass pane of your room. You weren’t a fan of assassinating in the snow. It was low vision, harsher climates, and it lessened the ability to move. Snakes weren’t creatures of the cold. Conveniently you’d been grouped with someone who called himself ‘The Winter Soldier’. I’m sure he loves the cold, you thought.

You’d heard a lot about him. Everyone had. He was the perfect assassin. He never failed a mission, his body didn’t reject cryo, every form of enhancement HYDRA had used on him had been a success. He was what every assassin had aspired to be.

Without thought, you grabbed the glass bottle laying next to you and walked off to the room the Winter Soldier had claimed for the night.

“Privet (Hello)”. You announced, pushing his door open with a creak. His head didn’t turn towards you. He sat on the floor, the sound coming from him indicated he was sharpening knives.

“Khochesh' vypit'? (Want a drink?)” You asked, motioning the bottle towards him.

He stayed silent for a moment. Finally he turned, looking up at you from his position on the floor. “What is it?” His dark tone asked back. The amber light from the fire crashed against his features. His strong jaw was covered with a dark stubble, his brunette hair tucked behind his ears. His most obvious feature was the hauntingly blue eyes that sat in sunken sockets, he looked drained.

“It’s vodka.” You stated, honestly. You were surprised to hear he wasn’t Russian, he sounded… American?

“You’re drinking before a mission?” He queried.

You shrugged. “Alcohol doesn’t freeze.” You sat down next to him. “Plus it takes the edge off.” A faint clinking noise announced as you placed the bottle on the floor between you two. He stared at you for a moment, before quietly going back to his knives.

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You interrupted the silence.

“No.”

“What about truth or dare?”

“I’m not 14.” the soldier replied, his eyes not leaving his handy work.

“How old are you?” You shot back,

“Why are you trying to get to know me?” He dodged your question.

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, taking a deep swig of the vodka. “And by my calculations,” you peered down at your watch, “we still have 3 hours and 27 minutes until the mission starts.”

He gave a shallow sigh, “93.”

“What?”

“I’m 93. How old are you.”

“93?! You were born in 1917?”

“Mhm. How old are you.”

“25. You look great for 93.” You chuckled.

“You look old for 25.” He jabbed back. His knife sharpener still grinding across a 6 inch blade.

“You flatter me.” You replied sarcastically. “So what’s your story? How’d you make it to 93?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Why would I ask if I didn’t want to know?”

Bucky looked over at you. “I’m telling you, you don’t want to know.”

“C’mon old man,  I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” You smirked. He once again, went back to his knives. It almost seemed as if he was trying to threaten you, pulling out larger knife after larger knife.

You huffed, opening your mouth to speak, “I was born in Hungary to a drug abusing mother, and an absent father. I was kidnapped and sold to HYDRA when I was 6. I was placed under the care of the Kraken. Not sure if you’ve met him, he’s this large guy-”

“I’ve met him.” Bucky stated, interrupting your spiel.

“Right, well, he trained me for years. Eventually HYDRA got involved again and I was tested on, experimented on, messed with, ya’ know, all that fun stuff.” You explained.

“Are you enhanced?” Bucky asked, almost as if he was actually interested.

“Yea. I have this whole snake venom trick. It’s great for up close combat. The experiments really should’ve killed me though. But maybe that’s what makes us so good-” Bucky looked over at the woman next to him, her bright eyes stared back at him as she spoke “ya’ know, the best assassins are the ones living off borrowed time. Because we’ve met death before, so we’re not afraid to do it again.”

Bucky quickly grabbed the Barrett M82 rifle next to him, his metal arm making faint whirring noises. “I’m going to scope out the base.” He stated bluntly. And with that, his large black boots walked him out the bedroom, and out the door.

You let out a faint sigh, creeping back to your room to sort out your weapons. You were sure it was something you said that scared him off. I guess at 93 you have to be living off too much borrowed time, you speculated. You absentmindedly set up your pistols, your mind not being able to wander from the Winter Soldier. Maybe annoying the Red Room girls would get your mind off it.

[remsmoonlight]

— title : i need you

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : ryuji goda x reader

— summary : convincing ryuji of doing the opposite of what he’s set out to do is a pointless task, yet you will attempt if it gives him even one more day.

— warnings : blood, mentions of violence, some swearing, mentions of imagining of death, angst

notes : inspired by a prompt from here .. i had to do a self indulgent thingy for tumblr .. because why did they have to kill him off like that .. i tried to be dramatic as i possibly could

" none of this would've happened if you had just listened! "

A muffled silence drowns your hearing, the spinning of the Earth decelerates until it feels little more than a crawl with a weak grip. Rough cement scrapes the smoothness of your knee, leaving an angry blemish as grit fights to find its way into your bleeding wounds. No graze can pull you out of the deep end your heart finds itself fighting to stay above of, as you witness your worst fear painted perfectly on a canvas steeped in blood. The stillness of the air leaves you feeling flustered as your mind tries to make sense of what it observes before it, hoping that it’s no more than a deceptive trick played on itself by the fear you felt as you made your way up the tall structure.

A romantic thread of words have never failed in supply, but words left unsaid threaten to crush you under their weight, lost moments to time. A shudder of a breath shakily is let out, the cold air kick starts your body as you push yourself up and scramble to where the battered and bloodied body of Ryuji lays, almost motionless in pain. A childish cry to wake up from this nightmare is all you can think of, but reality does not bend to the whims of humanity, it continues with the path it has set. Resentfully, you can see the similarity that it shares with the male.

“ none of this would've happened if you had just listened! “ A broken cry full of fiery misery lick at the delicate snowflakes that descend from the heavens with a short lived grace, full of threats to burn as they penetrate your space.

The shock of the vibrancy of the liquid that escapes Ryuji leaves time standing still, you care not however, your fingertips gripping a heavy shoulder as the other lends a gentle touch to his cheek. Pain and grief masks itself as anger. You sorely wish to blame someone or something, but you had warned him.. You’d tried to reason with him that this course he’d set would leave him chasing an unattainable taste of sweetness of satisfaction that would dull with each day that dawns. A strong will that had left you in an addictive awe leaves you with a decaying taste in your mouth now, it creates an impossible amount of scars on your soul.

“ ‘Guess I should’a listened to ‘ya after all. “ He reluctantly answers, the humour unable to battle the drain out of his voice completely.

“ Why couldn’t you have just let this lie? “ A ticking pulls your attention away for a fraction of a passing second, a groan causes you to turn back.

“ Was always gonna end this way. “

A weakened grip that belongs to Ryuji ignores the resistance from his body, enduring the pain from the movement in order to experience skin against skin contact for himself once more. He wishes he could have found it within himself to have turned left, but he’d have lost himself without this self imposed purpose, fading into the background. It was selfish, to bring you into his world.. But to him? You’re an unfinished book, your words inked with glittering star dust that etch themselves into existence. He was unable to tear him away from your pages that you may have worn like wings. Selfish. To know how his story would end, yet knowing he would not be around for yours.

“ No. “ Your lips close, pushing against each other to numb the other, your features twisting into an aching grimace.

“ Can’t stop it now. “ he insists, brows drawing together as he scrunches his eyes up from the agony that throbs through every inch of flesh. “ Shit’s set in stone now. “

“ Stop it! “ You sob, hating how vulnerable you sound.

There is a sorrowful beauty in the scene, notes Ryuji. Pale beams of moonlight triumphant until the point of reaching your body that blocks it. Leaving no more than a radiant glow surrounding your head, providing an inhuman glow that illuminates your body as much as your soul — a wistful image that he’s glad to witness once more. Your being here is something of a majestic collision into a door to his person he’d fought to keep locked, if this is a departing gift he would gladly take it. He’d thought the last time he saw you would be when he unwillingly shared his plan, should this ending occur, he could take comfort in there not being a picture of you waiting at the door waiting for the other half of you to walk through the door, only to be met with a crushing realisation of never seeing him again. Only, he’d not expected you to follow in his tracks, not after he’s ignored your pleas of turning away from this path.

“ Ya better get outta here, ‘place is gonna blow soon. “

“ Not without you. “ you argue, refusing his direction — your grip strengthens ever so slightly, fearing the winter breeze has the power to boldly grow and tear you away from the man.

“ Ya got’a whole life ahead of ya. “ A twist of his heart is the dominant sensation he notices at the thought.

He wishes he could be there for it, to see the petals of your success bloom in the depths of your determination. One thing he could never understand was how, despite the tainted reputation that follows him like a shadow, never had been enough to put you off. Not a criminal tie to your name and you voluntarily merged your time and energy with his, with little care. Perhaps that’s where an addiction to his selfishness began. All his life and his Yakuza connections secluded him from genuine human connections and you’d trampled all over that with your impartial view. Many would prefer to cower in their fear, you’d scratched past the surface to see who he could be capable of being.

All the time spent together, and yet he still craves more. To linger in your orbit, time is his nemesis — for he still feels as if there has not been enough. Not the hours spent with the sun setting and you’re there by his side, when he’d spent more time committing the wonder at such a simple thing to his memory. Not the darkened hours spent together surrounded by silken sheets, and all that graced his ears was a musical symphony of breathy moans as you set about learning each other’s bodies. Never were the hours spent talking in order to hear the passion in your voice when speaking about something that interests you enough for him.

“ You can’t do this. “ You whimper softly, almost looking through the man you hold close. “ You can’t come into someone’s life, you can’t make them care about you and leave just because you want to. What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to sit by and let you do this? “

He says nothing, leaving space for a groan of pain to leave his lips as he tips his head back. He’s met with a darkened blanket where millions of stars are scattered so ungracefully, yet do not collide an uncoordinated dance across the sky. Uncertainty overwhelms him, over that is causing more pain — the wounds or the grief in your every word.

“ Just get the fuck outta here already. “ His voice echoes across the large space as he turns his attention back to you.

“ Were you lying all that time? “ You ask with a trembling lip at the thought of being without.

It feels like an endless amount of early mornings had been spent planning and chattering about the most random things. Your mind lighting up with the power of a thousand suns before the world had awoken around you. You can’t pinpoint the moment it happened, but the two of you awoke a little earlier than necessary to bathe in the image of the other — to forge a most perfect illusion of normalcy before stepping out into the real world. Mornings were not your most happiest bedfellow, yet you’d grown to love them just a little more when waking to the most simplest treat to sweeten your tongue.

“ What ya on about? “

“ All that time when we were talking, about what we were going to do? What we could do? ”

“ Why ya going on about that ? “ He asks curiously, eyeing you as you speak.

“ If you die, how are we meant to do any of it? “ Your words are rushed as you question him plainly.

“ Yer gonna .. just won’t be with me. “ Colour from the world feels as if it’s fading, merging into one bland monochrome depiction of a bright, bubbling city.

“ Can you stop?! “ A frustrated shriek tears from the bottom of your throat in response. “ I’m done talking in circles, I’m not dying here and neither are you. If I have to, I will drag you out with me. “

The world pauses in shock for a quiet fraction of a minute. To be spoken to in such a manner is not something Ryuji has experienced much in his life, even rarer by you — words that fell from your lips are always bathed in the sweetness of sugar, not an ounce of poison to anyone. Even the individuals who drew your temper out of its sleep were met with an incredible amount of restraint, he can hear the desperation — acting as a bucket of ice water to shock his nerve endings from the low temperature.

“ You did what you had to do. It wasn’t meant to be, but you can find another purpose. Build something else with your life, just.. Just come with me. Please. “

To be responsible for dragging you down with him, away from providing the world with your bright rays of sunshine in the bland day to day lives of everyone you came into contact with weighs heavily on his chest. Extra time spent with you, perhaps getting to know who his little sister has become are the treats tied onto a stick in front of him, life’s cruel bribe. He’d imagined how his ending would have been sketched by above, yet to have ties keeping him there had not been what he would have included. If he couldn’t be the one dragon, this would be a consolation prize that would allow for the petals of peace to bloom before he’d tear them down once more.

A strength he’d thought abandoned him glows with a dull hue, for a minute, he contemplates using that for Kiryu. Yet the other half of his soul wins the battle, a hand of his reaches out to push himself off from the concrete. It’s not an easy feat after being battered more than once, yet it’s not half as arduous as it could be with you supporting his weight — he’s fully aware how much of your strength he is using from your audible gasps of air.

“ Ya don’t gotta yell at me. “ he complains softly as he grips his side with as much force as he can dedicate to.

“ I don’t think it’s the time for this. “ You argue back quickly.

“ The red one. “

“ Huh? “ The sound escapes you as your features turn into a frown over how to get away from the ticking time bomb fast enough.

“ The lift, to get down. Press th’red one. “ He instructs you with a finger barely lifted, pointing in the direction of the button behind you.

You say nothing in response, the wheels in your mind working faster than your body as it moves purely on an instinctive reaction when receiving messages from your brain. Your stomach twists and turns from the descent to below, unable to process the way the city shifts into a state of obscurity from the swift movement. It would be a beautiful sight if it hadn’t attached a violent night as a parting gift.

“ You really scared me up there. “ You confess with barely a whisper. “ Can you promise me something? “

“ What’s that? “

“ That you won’t do something like this again. “ You say, with your heart hoping that he’d shy away from an impossible task should it present itself. Your eyes had seen enough hurt for one night, you’re confident you’d not be able to withstand it once more.

“ Wish I could. “

Teeth grind against the bottom of your lip, you should have known that he wouldn’t. Yet you also cannot find the strength to tear yourself away from the fire that burns within him, like a moth to a flame, you find yourself wondering how close you can stand against the heat before you flee from the pain it brings.

[marckinggrant]

Hey Steven

Pairing: Moon Knight Altershipping (Marc Spector x Steven Grant) Word Quantity: 2283 words Rating: Teen and Up Warning: Mild Cursing Tags: Fluff, Sleeping Together, Budding Chemistry, Comfort, Light Hearted, Holding Hands, Mirroring, Protector Marc Spector, Multiplicity/Plurality Summary: Marc Spector attempts to suspend his control for the night however he ends up having a hard time doing so. He keeps looking at Steven Grant through his reflection and can't find himself motivated enough to just rush his body to sleep. Not with so much intrigue about Steven invading his mind and the desire to interact with him just once. A/N: I find myself very invested in Marc's and Steven's relationship because Marc seems very invested in Steven Grant. I can't help but feel Marc wants to let himself be known by Steven but is afraid of what would happen if he tries to do so. Marc is Steven's host and Steven does not know that he is an alter all his life, so I wrote this fic to explore the what if of Marc wanting to talk with Steven more earlier. Not about their body's duty or the control he holds over their body. Just a nice chat between close bed partners. Also I got inspired by a deep comic moment between Marc and Steven. Also Khonshu is just their annoying roommate.

“Hey Steven.” “Yo what’s up Steven?” “Are ya doing okay Steven?” “I hope you don’t mind me crashing ur work Steven, I can help you out with inventory for free if you want some company in the company.” . . . “Steven. You are not alone”

…is all that I want to say but… how the hell do you introduce yourself to someone that would freak out about you or see you as an abnormal problem? He doesn’t need an additional batch of problems to deal with.

For now, I can only say those words at a mirror while Steven is too drowsy to hear. Even if he could hear me, he would only see my presence as a weird illusion of a dream.

It’s considerate especially with the problems I gotta grit my teeth and clench my fists for.

Long story short I’m hosting a weird freak of a god that bosses me around and in turn grants me superhero powers but without the tech. He’s not important right now but paints himself as a giant pain in my ass.

“I am too important!” Khonshu scoffs in a heavy bass like voice that grates my ears. It’s great to offend a god with little to no consequences “What is not important is you trying to continue playing cheap and minuscule house with this childish boy of a man; he may be living but I will not hesitate to call it what it is. He is dead weight in our goals.”

“It’s sorta your fault for choosing to rely on dead weight… and Khonshu don’t ever say that again or else I’ll kill all of us so that we no longer your stupid ass chores!” I shouted with a real spiteful temper at Khonshu. I don’t mean that of course at least mostly, I just can’t think of a way for suicide to feel peaceful that’s all. And that I need to get permission from Steven… well y’know.

Fuck! I gotta hurry up. Make sure Steven gets some good looking bed hair. Trust me, he pulls it off. A few messy comb brushes here and there…. Oh right! Duh, get the pillow from Steven’s bed and…! Go crazy with the hairdo and pray for greatly ugly results!

A couple of rough hair to pillow rufflings and smothering later

“Damn Steven you look like a fucking slob! I could comb your hair if you want. You still look good though clicks.” I quietly whisper when staring at Steven, don’t wanna offend the guy. Other people give him too much flack, sure he stutters a bit but it’s not his freaking fault that you all decide to. Of course, this wouldn’t happen if he was a girl, but if I was there with him I would totally stand up for the man! Because he’s a stand up person! With smart brains and cute looks. Who wouldn’t want to defend-

“Ohhhhhhhh~ what a gentleman you are Marc Spector the strong and buff mercenary!” Khonshu starts to act out a bad joke

“Grrrr…” I growl realizing how that he’s going to roast my ass with the worst comedy routine only gods could create

He continues… “I suppose I can rely on you for every deed for my behalf forever~! It is so fortunate of someone useless and burden filled as me would ever gain your protection and company for all my pathetic life! Mwah mwah mwah my hero I love you! I love you!” ending off with the motherfucker staring point blank at me.

“.......What the fuck…?” I say exasperated yet stupefied. Seriously, how the hell is this joker a god?

“Good moony night, I know I will from your silly face, ahahahahaha!”

“…Anyways, back to whatever I was doing…” I mumbled as I walk away from the mirror and look out towards the window. From what I remember, today was a half-sized moon. Even if I cannot see very easily in Steven’s apartment, there is still hints of a soft illuminating glow that make this run-down apartment still comforting to live in. Hopefully, he feels the same.

.

.

.

“There! And with the door being sealed. Footprints are hidden… And this ankle restraint chained up! Steven would not suspect a thing.”

I pray he doesn’t… Don’t be a curious cat, just relax like one whenever I’m not in control. Sorry, I couldn’t give you 8 hours Stevie, Donna already hates your guts. I’m also sorry… for what’s about to happen with your body when I’m in control. I’ll make sure your body and spirit will never be broken. They’ll never be since you can trust me, right?

“Tik tok tik tok Marc, you need your energy as well” Khonshu actually has a point there, I need energy if I ever need to actually fight nocturnally.

I sigh as I feel the soft comfort of m- Steven’s bed with his feet trying to find warmth in the cold weather and blanket, as I hear the quiet steps of the people from London walking back to their homes or the apartments nearby, and as I see blurry reflections of Steven trying to get his catnap on.

I can only guess what dreams are gonna arrive for my good old.. partner Steven here. The good dreams mostly range from him actually having a job as the museum tour guide to a more extremely ambitious job of being a classic British accented detective I’d hear from Sherlock.

Showing off and expositing tons of his own knowledge with many folks actually bothering to hear what he’s trying to say. Kids sitting and nodding their cute little heads around. Intellectual adults jotting down notes because they feel the need to keep up with his intelligence.

His parents showing off what a genius son he is for them WITH A SCHOLARSHIP, hugging him with so much love and proud pride to the point of exhaustion….FUCK YEAH! Flex your mental talent! And “SCREW YOU DONNA!” Middle fingers for your bitchy British mouth!

“…Heh, maybe those are just my dreams…”

I get to closing my eyes to take a deep breath “Alright… I submit all my control to you Steven… Uh… I hope that you have a good day tomorrow. I may not be able to speak to you but I mm… You have a long relaxing life ahead of you. You’re living the good peaceful life.”

.

.

.

For some reason, I can’t sleep yet. My eyes don’t want to close but. All they want to do is look at Steven… All I want to do is see if Steven is feeling alright. All I can focus on is… Steven. Steven. Steven…. Grant… Grant….

Steven Grant

“....No I can’t yet… Steven! You need to sleep…” I whispered harshly to Steven, it was an unfair request. He can’t sleep because he feels anxious about the next day. Anxious about being too tired or how he’s going to live another day without another person to talk to.

“.....” Steven just seems boredly glum towards the ceiling… He keeps moving around and letting his eyes and mind wander.

I gotta give him some company.

.

.

.

“....Steven.”

“Mmmm…”

“...Hey Steven..!”

“Ummmuhh-..h-hello there..?”

“Umm. Yo! What’s up Steven? Are you… doing okay?”

“Yeah… I-I suppose so strange man…”

“..My name’s Marc, try not to forget it Steven! I hope you don’t mind me crashing your bed”

“Y-You’ll sleep with me..? I guess you can um.. If you really want, I’m not sure how and why you are here”

“Nahhhh don’t worry about the details. I’m just your sleeping buddy free of charge! Since.. we’re like good pals already! A free social slumber party if you like to see it that way”

“A slumber party eh? I always wanted to try one. A good deal that is free haha…”

“..You’ve never been to a slumber party?”

“Yes, I haven’t hanged out with the local children when I was little. T-they just seemed very busy with their activities, plus it’s not like I would have made good company for them..”

“Why not?”

“Ohhh psssh…! I must’ve bored them too much with my diatribes. You know how children are right? In their shoes, I might have been a killjoy for their fun. I mean of course I know that not all kids are like that but-”

“Hmph those little brats would’ve paid you complete eyes and ears if I was there with you Steven!”

“O-Oh um would they?!”

“Of course, we’d be best friends if we met each other earlier. You’re the smart nerd while I’m the strong fighter between us two. A killer combo that the world would be afraid to handle”

“Like two peas in a pod Marc, this relationship feels like it is going fast. However, I can tell you are very sweet”

“Wanna let me try my abilities then?” I raise my fists. “But with them being stuck up adults by now, I might use these of course. These fists can bust skulls open I betcha”

“H-huh?! Nononono I-I don’t want to see people get hurt P-plus you kinda look like..”

“Was just messin with ya Steven! I would never do things without your permission”

“...Why are you cringing and smiling at the same time then?”

“I hold tons of secrets, keeping my mouth shut”

“Hmmmph! You’re lucky I even let you by me Marc! I don’t want a friend that keeps secrets behind my back”

“Are you mad Steven?”

“Huh? N-no...! I think.. I just anticipate hearing any shared secrets I guess. From artifacts hidden inside Egyptian pyramids to hidden thoughts and feelings from people close to me. Very exciting stuff that makes my heart race in some sort of anticipation”

“Close to you? Me? You seem pretty easy to catch Steven Grant”

“II mean, it’s not like I have much choice; and how did you know my last name already?”

“The knowledge was just… Grant-ed to me”

“Ohhh bullocks, nooooo… not a bad pun on my name! You should’ve kept it in your head… now you made me red. So embarrassing for you and me”

“…….”

“……Hello Marc? I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say you’re-”

“Steven”

“What is it, Marc?”

“Before you go to sleep... I want you to hear this. Take it in, read my lips and understand me”

“O-okay, ’what do you want to say?” Huh? H-He’s holding my hand… Why am I sweating so much? Calm down Steven

“Steven… I want you to know.. That whenever you seem alone in the world, please don’t take.. that fucking lie as fact… Whatever gripes or situations you have to deal with right now, we’ll pull you out of it together yeah?”

“Y-Yes” His hand feels similar to mine for some reason

“G-Good… I’m relieved that you understand Steven. It’s just, I really did want to tell you this sooner but this seems like the only time I can. I apologize if I seem like I’m blabbering I just-”

Marc’s hand is holding onto mine tighter. He’s such a strong man I can tell. I can feel that he is not lying about his strength. He seems very tough and reliable, my mind can only imagine the kind of accomplishments he has made in his life. Through his fists… I can feel his resolve as if it is my own. It feels that his fists have a sole purpose to protect me through thick and thin. Marc… His grip feels so…

“Steven”

“....”

“Steven”

I like the way he looks at…

“Steven”

And the way he says my name, I can’t help but

“STEVEN!”

“Oh! Just dozed off a bit there Marc”

“Ah! Yeah forgot I was supposed to make you sleep Steven”

“Marc”

“Hmm?”

“Grant little Steven here one wish if you please!” See my snicker filled smile

“Anything”

“...Keep holding my hand tight like this, your grip shows much soothing charm. I don’t want to see you go away. Do not disappear from me please! Marc, I just want you here even if just for one day, I may not remember you but I can tell that you are one of my good dreams. Please keep company for the rest.. of the night

“I got you Steven, I’m here for you. For the rest of the night. You got me.

“Hurrrrrm ahhhhhhh… sorry again I just feel sohrrr sleepy… but thank you for trying to calm me down”

“Just go to sleep Steven. Y-You’ll see me again”

“Okay then! I trust you” Being alongside Marc allows me to finally rest it seems… I wonder why “Good night… Marc”

.

.

.

“Good night” are the simple words I whisper while I find myself also going to sleep. Thank god he actually is having a nice sleep. I can’t believe I actually got myself to talk to Steven, for the first time.

I can’t guess the right answers to why I feel so timid around him. Maybe it’s got to do with a complex I feel with myself when looking at Steven. I don’t know… I kinda wish he would actually find out about me if he tries to find and know a person named Marc so that I can finally quit this shit charade. Maybe that day will come sooner or later.

But, all I can say from this experience is that I felt free. More than any other moment in my life. Even more than the fights I can go all out on, Steven.

I hold my fist gently over Steven’s. And with all the control that I have left, faltering lips left their mark on Steven. I'm no longer in control… but at least I gave him one good final kiss to sleep.

.

.

.

I love you Steven Grant

[honestsycrets]

Mirror, Mirror | [ Cursed!Ivar x Modern!Reader ]

❛ pairing | cursed!ivar x modern! disabled (cleft lip sooo)! latina!reader

❛ type | ( ? )

❛ summary | after ivar kills his son, the witch freydis, his wife, curses him. somehow, he ends up with you.

❛  warnings | witch!freydis, POC reader, disabled reader, modern fic, cursed!ivar, modeling/elements, mention of self hate, sweet uncles, SFW

❛  sy’s notes | happy Monday everyone! how are we doing? are we surviving the coronapocalypse? I hope so. I come to you with another fruit of my eccentric, written all in one shot, writing. this request was left over from my Ivar 5CW event. 

“I got you something for your surgery. See looks just like you, right, good girl?” your uncle rushed into your room, full militant uniform, with the great mirror between his aged fingers. As a military mechanic, his schedule was often too full to have time for lunch, but today was different. He sets it down, a soft tuft of dust floats free, and you cough in its wake.

“Where did you get this, tio?”

“Estate sale on Cherry. Imported by the dead guy, uhh… Mr… Borg,” he answers, flicking his hands in the air in circles as if he’s trying to remember the guy’s name. As he rambles on about the dead man you look to the empty wall, soft grey and bland, just like you’ve wanted to paint your walls-- now that you could! Because unlike the other houses, this great expanse is all yours. You could paint it rainbow colour, flick some glitter up there, and seal it if you so damn wanted. Instead, you settled on a subtle grey. The soft pink dries on your accent wall, waiting for your bountiful French decor.

“From where?” you slur out, smoothing out the bottom of your sundress, and point toward the wall where you wanted the giant mirror to go. It would encompass the wall. But you’d feel like you always wanted to: like a princess. “China?”

“Tsk! China!” He booms half insulted in the way he drags it out, smacking his hat against his palm. “Scandinavia!”

“Scandinavia isn’t a country.”

“Ay,” he walks toward the mattress on the newly mopped floor, picking up a nail that you set on your bed. “Stop giving me a hard time. I bought it for you, eh? Wasn’t cheap!”

It didn’t look cheap, either. It sweeps nearly the size of your tall uncle, its silver designs swirling around, flourishing along the top. It’s lovely. It fits your aesthetic, even. It’d make for some good pictures, too.

“Thank you tio,” you answer, putting that picture-perfect smile on. He’s a proud man when he mounts that mirror up, securing it with some strange hook and chain type restraints. It’ll smash ya, he said! Maybe it could have, but when all is said and done, and you stand before the massive mirror, it’s a strange type of beautiful. Ethereal as it was, something felt… off behind its reflection. Your nails skim the surface of the glass, repetitive click after click,

“How are the stitches feeling?” he asks.

You lift your fingers up, inching toward the puffy flesh of your mangled lip. The stitches would look like shit now. “Dr. Rao fixed it.”

“Tch, he better’ve. How did he do it wrong the first time?” he asks, and you shrug your shoulders, as if you don’t know. What were you, a plastic surgeon? “Since you’re feelin’ good again… Make me a tunafish before I go!”

Should have said no. But you weren’t going to say no to your uncle’s love for salty fish squashed between two pieces of wheat bread and some scraggly salad. You’re sure the mirror caused three times that. Okay, maybe more like thirty… or three hundred.

Good body, but you don’t have the face for it. Try photography. The university has a good program.

Stapled to your portfolio is that one little note. A woman’s would be kind words plastered onto the front as a friendly word of advice. Give up, move on. Something out the bright limelight. You kick off your shoes at the door, thrash the door shut, pop the lock. Set dinner on the counter. Don’t eat it. Head to your room and thrash that door too. Drop the portfolio on the desk in front of the obnoxious mirror and sink into the plush white comforter.

And you breathe. Your chest swells deep with breath, and it's prickly against your lungs, as if it hurt. Your sparkly phone vibrates with your friends’ many questions. Did you get it? Do models get paid per shoot? A hundred considerate questions and maybe, they all failed to give the one comment you needed to hear from anyone of them. Ms. Bisset had dragged the knife of disappointment across your belly, disemboweled you until nothing but disappointment, remorse, and self-hate poured out onto your toes.

“Your face looks better than hers.”

You shoot up, hair matted to the soaked pieces of hair against your cheek, turning side to side. No one was in your room, and yet, you felt them here. Their gaze poisoning the sanctity of your private place-- where you could cry and no one would know better. You lurch out, flip your phone, and there’s nothing there. And again, you reach out, only this time its to the knife at the bottom of the top drawer of your nightstand. You slip out of your fluffy sheets, quaking around the handle, turning it over and over, and over and over, looking around and around.

“Who’s there?!”

The room stretches inhumanely. As if the walls goes on for a mile or longer. You swirl, and your white dress follows, but nothing else. No matter how you pace from one end, to the other, and around the corners. “You’re getting close,” the voice laughs, and there’s a gentleness behind that statement. “No… nope, no. In the chest, really?”

You stomp toward the sheer white curtains, hiking them back, as if you’d really see anyone there. The warm sunlight streams against your skin, down in your bones, and there’s nothing or no one there.

“What the fuck,” you whisper, but no one is there to answer, and you’re sure. You’ve checked your closet, under the bed, over the bed, in the chest, by every nook and cranny and-- you look up, under your desk, and that’s when you see it. Two slouched legs, dependent upon a inky black and ragged crutch. You scan him over, something of a medieval horror, because he’s all leather, and chainmail, and locks, and buckles, and god he’s big in his own way, encompassing the mirror-like a cloud of black death.

But he’s not.

“There you go! Checkmate.” Despite those worn hands, his pale face is chiseled as if by a sculptor. High cheekbones, a pronounced forehead, and a broad nose. His hair is in its own way lifelike, braided back behind his head. His dull expression comes alive in bright blue eyes, excitably staring to you, and past you. His armour clinks. You grasp the knife, flicking it at the mirror.

“Watch out.” He warns, and you duck, because the mirror reflects your knife, chucking it into your beautifully painted wall. It embeds straight out into the wall, and you screech, both for your lovely wall but also the great loss of your mind. There was a man. In the mirror. Of your house. You’re stepping back, staring behind you, then back again. He’s there in the mirror, but not beside you, where you imagine his large body to be overtaking your petite frame.

“What the fuck are you?”

“Ivar,” he answers. Igor-- like those old Frankenstein movies? “Igor?”

His fingers flick, rattling irritation. “Ivar the Boneless.”

“Who?”

He leers behind that glass. For that awful leer of unchecked power, slamming his hand onto the other side of that glass, there’s nothing to be said for it. It’s as if he thinks you should know, because his lip wrinkles, and he turns toward his surroundings. Within the mirror, craggy, dark surroundings. He collapses on a bed of furs, which you can only just so make out because it is directly behind him.

“I am… was a king,” Ivar explains. Though this is all one great illusion, you’re curious enough in it, because what else did you have to do but sulk? Your hand goes toward the holy oil your tio had so graciously left, telling you to smear it all over, sanctify the mirror because who knows what kind of creepie demons were in that thing, and maybe you should have listened, and maybe he knew better.

“I’m not dead,” he snorts, “Take your little Christian bottle and spray for demons somewhere else.”

“Then what are you,” you play along. Ivar, for all his snappy wisdom, falls quiet a moment. He unlatches the armour on his legs, slides out of some medieval torture device that held his legs mishappen and weird.

“Cursed,” he answers. “...by my witch of an ex-wife and her little--” bastard, you almost read, but the pain in which he said it, suppressed any meaning behind it. It’s as if he dies a little when he says such a thing.

“It… wasn’t yours?”

“The wretch couldn’t be mine,” he says factually. For a man as strong as he was, you wonder why. Why was he explaining this to you, who he had only just met, and then again-- why not? If this Ivar brain illusion was locked up as long as he was, hey, maybe you’d be aching for company too. He gestures from his pronounced nose down, over his full lips. “His lips… his nose. They were torn one to another.”

“A cleft lip?” he sighs, dipping his gloved hands behind his head. He doesn’t lift, not even when you shriek, coming closer now. You climb over the white desk on your knees. “I had a cleft lip!”

He turns up his head, bitter at the mention, as if ice had stabbed not only him-- but straight through him, too. Even more than talk of his wife, talk of the small child seems to wound him. A wretch, a bastard-- “What happened to him?”

He turns in his bed, bound to ignore you, when you slap the glass, shaking the very foundation of the wooden boards under the bed. “I killed him-- I killed me son.” He answers, and the words sound heartless to you, torn as they were, pained as they were. When he turns up his head, you connect with his eyes, desperate to give sense to murder. “He was in pain. He could not live like that, mocked by everyone he meets, loves.”

You hold his words close, looking down, the scratchy handwriting from your denied portfolio sits there, a reminder of his words. “That’s why you’re in the mirror.” He clasps his hands together, leaning forward, and unclasps again, offering up toward the dark nothingness and it’s detached light which lights his bed from seemingly nowhere at all. “Well, good. You deserve to be in that mirror for what you’ve done.”

He doesn’t deny it. He turns, all alone, abandoned in his bed. You wonder how long he’s been there. Has it been a short time? Has it been a long time? It’s not been in the last five hundred years, for his clothes look aged. Maybe a thousand. But you don’t really know. Whoever this Ivar the Boneless was, he was an old man.

“I meant what I said,” his voice is rough, almost quaky. Is he crying? His words grace your skin like feathers, tickling you into interest for what he might say next. You settle into your chair at the desk.

“What?”

“Your face is more beautiful than hers,” he prompts. “Ms. Bisset.”

“How did you know her name?”

Ivar rumbles in his laughter, his broad back flexing. “You talk to yourself more than you’d think. And when you’re not talking to yourself, you leave all the important articles on your desk.”

It’s true. You scramble to stuff them into their appropriate folders, cursing him for being as he was. A nosy man with no sense of morals. If you were locked in a mirror, wouldn’t you have nothing to do but snoop around? You make note-- buy a cat. At least then, you wouldn’t feel your mind running away on you.

“That means a lot,” you mutter, “Coming from an ableist.”

Ivar pulls his armour off. Strip by agonizing strip, until he’s nothing but well formed muscles in his inky trousers, matching the blotchy black tattoo of dragons that course by the back of his neck. You spin around in your chair, hands to your eyes, chanting ‘I see nothing!’ as if… if you said it enough times, maybe it would be true. “Product of my time.”

He rests.

“Isn’t that a bit much?”

Hallucination or real, you came to accept that Ivar the Boneless, some kinda Viking-King was here for good. His mirror is the best mirror to do your make up in due to the great natural light that filtered in, but also the worst for his companionship was always awful. WIth every flick of your eyeshadow brush painted in bright red, Ivar had a sing song opinion.

“You look better natural.”

He’s not a fan of this whole fashion eye you were going for. Vibrant hot red and warm blues weren’t his favourite, especially not blue, because they reminded him of his brother Sigurd. Gods rest his soul, he told you. He killed him too.

“Ivar, for fuck’s sake.”

“You talk to your tio like that?” he scrunches his fingers.

“It’s not a date, Ivar.”

Tch, Ivar drags out, throwing his hands behind his head, annoyed in the way that he plops back onto his bed. Ivar’s ideal take? Dewy, natural, something with a hint of colour and a well-flicked eyeliner. Not a fan of caterpillar lashes, as he called them. He did like a perfect red lip, which you only learned by angling your television toward his mirror, so that he might be able to watch while you were out on the town with Igor, the orange tabby cat.

“Then what is it?”

His eyes falter, falling to the red satin romper you wear, as if you know, and he knows, that you’re up to no good. “Fashion shoot.” You answer him. “If they won’t publish me, I’ll publish myself.”

Ivar’s lips quiver, amused, and he smiles as you pomp those soft curls. It’s sultry, sexy, defined. He doesn’t think it needs to be. But it’s bold and only a fool would deny how beautiful you looked, dolled up more beautifully than even his late Freydis. He was here because of his son, placed into a home with a woman who had the same condition as his late, beautiful baby boy. It wasn’t on accident.

Ivar smiles. “Be ruthless.”

So you try, settling yourself on the edge of the bed next to the tripod, gliding your fingers over your dress, considering yourself. “What, no set design?” he asks.

“Set design?” you ask, laughing at the concept. Behind you is the soft pink accent wall, bouncing against the other walls behind you, soft and sweet. That’s all that was needed, really. Or so you thought.

“I’ve been in whorehouses with more taste.”

Ivar, you grumble, bounding off of the bed. Then, standing before him, your hands slap on your thighs. “Well what do you suggest?”

He leans out, gesturing his fingers toward the curtains. “Pull those dust catchers you call blinds shut. Add some soft flowers.”

You rush out of the room on bare toes, rushing back from your craft closet, arms full of fake flowers. You arrange them around your balcony bed, passionate and red. “Like this?” you crawl back on the lip, taking your place on the bed. Ivar leans, his cheek against the cold glass.

“Good enough.”

By now, you’re used to Ivar’s comments. Fashion shoots are on the daily, and as much as he detested the colour, you’ve grown used to his comments. You learn that he is better suited for creating a good background. Something about Ivar is all show, all flash, and you love that. In place of a friend to push you along, there’s Ivar. Always looking forward to giving you opinions about where to place this, or that, and Igor get the fuck out!

Priceless, like you said.

But as you progressed, and Ivar sat trapped in the mirror, something ate at you. When Ivar was not on his crutch, he would throw himself on the ground and drag himself like a giant snake across the ground wherever he went. He never once said a word about your crooked lips. The stitches faded. It was a gnarly scar in its place now, which hardly commanded attention save from the men you met on the daily, who all at least asked what was different about your face at one time or another, or excused themselves and never came back.

“You finally took my advice,” Ivar looks at you, dolled up like he liked. Soft curls, soft make up, a white dress. The gentle purity reminds him of his mother, Aslaug, or so he told you. You peer up at him, dragging the eyeliner out.

“Maybe it looks better like this,” you tease, and the thought hits you. “I’m guessing you have more experience than me, chulito. You’ve been in that mirror for 1200 years, you know.”

“Mostly in whorehouses. Wasn’t all bad, eh? Imagine my chances at finding a virgin with a cleft lip to set me free.”

“I bet you miss your family,” you tell him. Or what was left of it-- that was.

“I miss my brother Hvitserk,” he admits. The one brother, that though they both fought, he still found love in his heart for him. “And my mother,” tears gather, welling at his almond-shaped eyes, and you’ve done it again. “Freydis.”

“Would she take you back?”

“No,” his form drops, “You know I killed her.”

“A common theme,” you tease, drawing a small smile of him. But he drops his head down, cupping his hand behind his thick neck, lost in thought. “Ivar it-- it’s okay. You’re not a monster, y’know.”

“Aren’t I?”

He has a reputation for it. The names, the numbers, the people, the death. So, so much death. If he were here, today, they would call him a serial killer. A terrible man. A demon. When he sits there, unresponsive, you press your fingers to the glass.

“You aren’t,” you swipe the words from his lips, he has nothing to do but back away. Hope and pray you drop the subject, move on. He’s done talking again. This time you don’t. “Ivar-- you aren’t.”

You turn your fist to the mirror, crack your well-formed fist straight on. As opposed to the last time, reflecting the so deemed flimsy metal of your sword, your fist fractures the glass. It clatters around your fist, falling apart into a million tiny shards on the back of your blood, seeping into the mirror. But it’s cemented there, suspended in the air. Eyes wide, Ivar’s chest swells with air, and you roll your scarred lip into your mouth.

Then, the shards drop. The mirror cracks like a halo around your feet.

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[shuahoonie]

you. [tom holland] - three.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! mentions of alcohol! a bit of fluff, a bit of angst. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish!

WORD COUNT: 1632

SONG INSPO: our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldn’t get sued - fall out boy  

A/N: aaah, hello babes! i have been writing a lot since the new year ngl, it is so refreshing to just write and not stress about stuff. although that’ll change as i head back to university tomorrow [technically today lmao] and face a shit ton of papers and readings!!! anyways, happy reading and enjoy part three!

gif credits @peteparkrrs​

vanessa’s masterlist | preview | one | two | four | five | six | seven | eight | eight.5 [interview excerpt] 

“Why, I found a solution to your problems, my dears.” Zoë smiled, almost too sickly.

You were starting to get anxious. Is it your manager or is it because of the coffee? Probably both.

You waited for her to continue and what she said afterwards almost made you spat your drink.

“You and Tom will fake-date for damage control,” Zoë said as if it was the most obvious solution.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, practically choking on your drink. Has she gone mad?!

“You,” Your manager pointed at you “and Tom” She then gestured to the devil sitting beside you “will be acting as a fake couple.” 

“God, please tell me this is just a horrible dream.” You practically begged as you closed your eyes, trying to convince yourself that you’re just asleep and this, whatever this is, will be over as soon as you open your eyes. 

“How did you two end up to this conclusion, may I ask?” Tom asked, equally appalled at the resolution that was dropped in front of you two. 

“It’s the only thing that made sense after the theatrics that you two pulled,” Matthew spoke up. “Setting the illusion that you two are secretly dating and got into a small fight last night, which ended up with Y/N pouring her drink on Tom.” 

“That was a small fight? What if we had a big one?” Tom scoffed “Will she kill me then?” 

You smirked at him. “Why, that’s the first thing that I liked from all of the nonsense you just said.” 

Tom rolled his eyes at you. “I still don’t see how dating for publicity solves what happened last night,” Tom spoke up, in which you had to agree. None of it made sense after all. 

“Then how exactly are you two going to explain the scene from last night?” Zoë asked with her arms crossed. 

“I’ll be glad to confirm to the world that Tom Holland is an asshole since he called me a leech,” You said almost nonchalantly. People were starting to paint Tom as the bad guy in the narrative, and all four you were aware of it. 

“No one will be telling anything,” Tom jeered. “No one will be telling anything because it’s none of their business. They shouldn’t care about these things in the first place.” 

“Hate to break it to ‘ya, bud, but see this?” You showed him your phone, the screen showing Twitter’s trending tab and there it showed over a hundred thousand tweets about you two. “People made it already their business.” 

Tom massaged his temples. “What, are you on board with this idea now?” 

“Fuck no,” You hissed. “As much as I hate to say this but Holland’s right, we don’t have to anything about this.” 

“You two don’t have a choice,” Matthew commented. “If you two chose to disregard this, the people wouldn’t let this go. It will always be asked in interviews, they would only speculate more.” 

“God, why did you even go to that specific club.” You grumbled at Tom. “Of all clubs in Los Angeles.” 

“Why are you putting this on me? None of this would’ve happened if it wasn’t for you!” Tom argued. 

“I wouldn’t have done what I did if it wasn’t for your stupid mouth!” You were fuming. 

“Look, it’s a win-win for both of you. Tom will clear up his image by giving an impression of how your little couple’s argument escalated. As for Y/N, she’ll be receiving a lot of publicity for this. It’s good for a rising-star to have this much publicity.” Zoë proclaimed. 

“Jesus, you really are a leech,” Tom mumbled under his breath. However, you still caught it. 

“Call me that one more time and I swear you’ll be going home with not only ruined clothes but also with a bruise on your precious face.” You threatened, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“So it’s settled then?” Matthew asked, “You two are going to do it?” 

Tom just shrugged, probably defeated knowing he won’t stand a chance in this argument. He does have this reputation to uphold and he’s not going to let someone ruin it. 

You, however, felt too brave. You shook your head no and said, “You can’t make me.” 

Zoë raised her eyebrow at you, taking it as a challenge. “Try me.” 

“Remember to hold hands, kids!” Zoë said giddily as she waved goodbye. 

“I am going to kill her,” You gritted in between your teeth as you left the building with the devil quickly fixing his hair. 

“I might actually take you up on that and add my manager into the mix,” Tom grumbled and adjusted his shirt. Tom decided to leave his jacket at the office and figured that a white shirt paired with denim pants was enough. He claims that he looks toned down and his outfit is so casual that people might not notice him. 

You begged to differ. Even if he is just wearing a plain shirt and the most basic denim pants, Tom will still attract people’s attention. The fabric of his shirt clung to his body like second skin. It shows how fit he is and you weren’t one to deny that. 

No matter how little effort Tom puts in regards to dressing himself, he still looked good. That annoyed you. 

“Okay, so the first thing to get this ship sailing-” Zoë stopped and turned to Matthew, “Hah, get it, Matt? I learned it from the internet. Apparently, a ‘ship’ is slang for relationship.” She raved. 

“Oh, that’s sick.” Matthew agreed. 

You let out a huge groan. “God, it’s like watching my parents learn internet lingo all over again.” Not to mention having flashbacks of your early internet days, stumbling over Tumblr with ‘Destiel’ mentioned everywhere. What a time.

Tom, on the other hand, had his face buried in his hand. He seemed like he was equally embarrassed and frustrated with this entire situation. 

“You two are going to have lunch together at this newly opened restaurant. It’s not far from here, don’t worry.” Zoë stated. She mentioned the name of the place, also adding the fact that you and Tom had to walk there. 

“You want us to walk?! This whole area is crawling with paparazzi.” Tom noted. 

“You two will be fine, they can’t hurt you.” Zoë dismissed you two. 

“The restaurant is a couple of blocks away,” You pointed out after searching the place on Google maps. 

“See it as a quick exercise,” Matthew implored. “You two are young, you’ll manage.” 

So here are you both now. You were walking with a complete asshole, who’s apparently now your boyfriend, on the way to this restaurant and waiting to be devoured by paparazzi. 

It was a quiet walk if you two were being honest. You expected more irritating remarks from Tom and you were ready to give out your snarkiest replies, however, you two were now walking in silence. 

It was actually a nice day in Los Angeles. It wasn’t too hot and humid, unlike most days. It wasn’t also that busy in the streets, which is odd, you thought. The day was perfect-too perfect.

Well, it was until you saw a man with a camera hiding behind one of the parked cars along the street. 

Tom seemed to take notice of the figure you just saw and put on a neutral face. “It’s showtime,” Tom said under his breath, loud enough for you two to hear. 

You two were walking alongside each other with close proximity, yes, but you weren’t going to hold hands. As much as to Zoë’s dismay, you thought and restraining yourself from rolling your eyes. 

You could hear the clicks of the camera and with every step, it seemed like the number of clicks multiplied. It only made you feel uneasy, you felt your chest tightening. 

You suddenly wished that you never agreed to this, no matter how much they pressured you. You didn’t mind your state of fame before. A handful of people recognize you from the Sci-Fi Thriller, Alchemist. You were also known for your Twitter and how you absolutely gave no fucks with whatever you tweet. Zoë had a problem with that before, but she just let it go since your account says a lot about your personality. 

However, none of that bothered you. You liked that people recognized you but still managed to get on with your life without getting disrupted. 

Tom glanced at you, noticing how you seemed like you were out of it. He could sense that you were taking deeper breaths than you did before. He frowned, Is she not used to this? Tom wondered. He carefully thought of what to do and just mumbled “Oh, fuck it,” and reached for your hand. 

It caught you off-guard. Oh boy, did you react so rashly. 

“What the hell are you doing, Holland?” You asked as you yanked your hand back. 

“I’m trying to help you,” He grumbled as he took your hand again, holding it firmly this time. “You looked like you were about to have a panic attack. I figured you’d rather have your attention somewhere else.”

“What if people see and-” 

“And what?” Tom cut you off, “They assume that we’re dating? Aren’t we supposed to be, princess?”

You weren’t expecting Tom to wrap his hand around yours nor did you expect him to help you ease your nerves down, so you ended up staring at him. You were trying to figure out what kind of stunt is he trying to pull now. 

He turned his attention to you, his brows knitted slightly. “Why are you staring, princess?” He chuckled softly, amused at the confusion painted on your face. 

What are you trying to do, Holland? You thought. 

TAG LIST:  @thomasthetankson @autty0314 @marvelous-tswiftfan @averyfosterthoughts @theolwebshooter @jackiehollanderr @sltwins​ @herondalescecilys​ @notjustpenandpaper​ @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife​  @sectusempried​ @gothicwidowsworld​ @heartofholland​ 

[thelordstears]

Hohohoho- did this mother fucker do some writing? Why of course.

"I want you to live and die in the same breath, and so with a revolver glistening silver underneath your childhood home I will make the bullet the breath you breathe."  - Caldvain Lucelo

"My name tastes like a hungry tiger on my fucking tongue." - Vokard Killjaw

"The only thing money buys you is enemies." - Myles Catsenberg

"People in power like to step into the shoes of the weak just to see how best to break them. And I swear as I stared into the eyes of that living, breathing embodiment of everything that's wrong with humanity, I could feel miles that weren't my own being walked in boots I recognize." - Gerard Bronko

"The shadows, they dance, my friend. In the dark they sway, in the light they wither, it's a serenade melody of shadow and decay." - Ruvickza Havinsaw

"I dance with death as if she were a pretty woman, but soon as she steps cold heel on my toes, I'll succumb to the cold waters of this darkness I'm drowning in." - Jared Ashes

"I don't think the forbidden fruit was ever, an apple sitting in the tree. It was always a metaphor. We all have our own forbidden fruit. For some it's lust, desire, greed. For others it's murder. But it was always a bit more specific with me. My forbidden fruit sits like a rotting orchard in my chest, whispering to me all the secrets that killed me." - Exton Varkno

"I traded my life for violence the day I stepped into a battlefield, bullets between my teeth and gunpowder in my lungs." - Dust Tilvain

"There's something dark, brewing inside of me and it stems from the cruelty that hunts me with knives of shadow and sin. I can't tell whether or not I'll come out the other side of this battle me, cause soon as that blade swings through the air and crimson smiles haunt my mind, I know that I won't be Jolt Netz. My tombstone would be etched with infamous names and killer's identities." - Jolt Netz

"He sits like a bullet on my tongue, tearing into the essence of life with fangs of gold and horror. And as he smiles, you know that it is not of kind nature, but a warning that Hell hath no fury like a scorned devil." - Ruva Buckrein

"They call us damned, they call us cruel and unjust. But darkness lives in the hearts of man, and my friend, all we are doing is returning you to humanity." - Virgillio Kreuten

"There's something cruel about how Heaven dances before the angels who fell. As if it mocks their pain with a pearly white smile filled with angel toothed fangs." - Kristen

"I was a bullet fading memory sitting on the edge of another man's revolver. I'd do anything to get my next fucking hit, my next fucking high. And so I stand here with broken bullets sitting at my boot, wondering if this is the price I payed to become nothing more then a silhouette of who I shoulda been." - Bovako Stillsworth

"I was a pawn, once. But I moved through the white and black checkered board, shifting through identities at rapid speeds. I've been the brook. The knight. The bishop. But as I reached the end of the board, my friend. I said checkmate and became something far more powerful then a King, or a Queen. I became he who controls the board, rolling die as if they were the seers golden strings." - David Faim

"Safety is an illusion, created by society to keep us quiet." - Quentin Satchel

"He's a pale white ghost that sits like a dream in the shadows, and before you know it, my friend, he'll snatch you in his nightmare hungry maw, and all you know will become dark." - Arthur Wellburn

"I stared into eyes mad and unwell, sinking in oceans that were never my own. And as I tripped over my boots, I came to realize these boot-prints were never mine either. I'm just a stranger walking in Cage's skin nowadays, wondering when the fuck I'll be myself." - Cage Azvinka

"Death doesn't taste cold. It doesn't taste of dark things and chaos. Death tastes like the lips of someone you've lost, it tastes of rose petals and lust, of nights spent in each other's arms and worst of all, for some people. Death tastes of love." - Norman O'Driscoll

"You know how it is, we all think we're good people. We all live as if we're the hero in our own fucking comic book, but then you gotta make choices. And none of 'em are favorable. All of 'em end with some form of death, and you get to thinking if this is the new normal, and blood runs red on the mellow streets of innocence. What the fuck does that make a hero but a villain hiding behind his regretful eyes?" - Kyro Bellford

"I stood for nobility, for peace. For something the world could be proud of in the end. But my world fell apart as sinister smiles surrounded me and darkness swooped in on every god don side. What a cruel thing it must be, to fall into the dark when light is right around the corner." - Jenvick Hester

"I am a revolver of secrets and lies. Each chamber holds a bullet, my friend. Dare you step into the firing range of these gunpowder identities that'll cling to you like shivering shadows?" - Caveston Gustello

"This world is fucked up. No wonder I wanted to escape it, right? No wonder I wanted to drift away from reality on wings of cocaine and hallucinations that left me bleeding from the heart. I just don't know why, out of all the things I can't run from, it's the fucking ghost that sits in my memory like a cruel, barking and biting dog. It'll always be there. It'll always remain, there. Because to be rid of the addiction ghost would be to be rid of who I am, too." - Rain Morvosina

"I sit very quiet in my mind, as if I fear even a whisper would shatter the glass of me. I thought, as I held my child in my arms that I had found life blossoming inside of me, for once, finally. I had found it, I had lived. But it was not life I had given to the world, but decadent and starving death. With his reddened teeth and decaying angels, he rips my mind apart with his existence alone. I have committed an awful, dreadful sin. One that can never be forgiven. For I am the mother of evil, and that, is nothing that God can love." - Francine Flowrick

"Reality always crashes down on the weary. It comes for the broken with claws, sharp, rotting things they are, tearing at the fabric of beating hearts and minds that think and remember, that hurt and scar so easily. I've always been the thing that hunts the bad things. The quiet bumps in the dark that haunt childhood minds and whispered madness that haunts the well and lovely of society. I was never really a man, was I? I was always something to be feared by the dark. So does that make me an invisible shadow?" - Mosrvey Vitinbow

"You know how it is. When you see someone that's broken you think you can fix them, you think you can save them from the darkness you'd seen yourself. But she was never broken. She was never something anyone could fix. She was cruel. She was delusional and wicked. And I'd never seen that in someone before. But a young heart had become a decaying one before I even had a chance to watch daisies and roses bloom in her chest. Love never stood a chance with something cruel and animalistic as her." - Moana Steenfield

"They called me something sinister, as if who I am could be defined by words pulled from the darkest poets man kind has ever known. But I was never poetry, I was never something that could be explained. Death came for me with rotting fingers and a smile, and up in flames went the pain. Up in flames went all the horror in my heart. If I wasn't this rotting, dying thing of cruelty and bloodstained lip, who would I be? Perhaps I wouldn't be Bethy, if I wasn't wicked, if I wasn't something mad and quiet. And to be myself, perhaps, is my loveliest sin of all." - Bethy Angelice

"Monsters don't follow a code of any sort. With their fangs of humanity and grins of dark, they sit still like starving vultures, waiting to drag another dead man's soul into the quiet emptiness of their madness. I've met monsters. I've met cruelty. And often I wonder, is it such a cruel sin, to send a beast into the dark from whence he came?" - Ozbey Crocker

"She was broken before the Devil of delusions had ever gotten to her. As if her mind was a paint peeled mansion, creeping at the edge of an abandoned ghost town. I had never met such cruelty in someone so young until she sat at the edge of a boy's bed, hatred and something sinister dancing in eyes pale and lifeless." - Paul Daykos

"He came for me with ashen bone fingers, his eyes dancing with unheavenly delusions. Dark and quiet was the punishment for my madness, for my devilry wrapped in child like horror. He told me that they call us a murder of crows. And what a heavenly thing it must be, to hold black feathers divine beneath your nails, ripping into the threadbare and gentle animalistic nature of the beaked beasts that caw little whispers of death in the sky. What a cruel, decadent beast he was. Sitting at the edge of insanity with his eight ball and shaky ashen bone fingers." - Bethy Angelice

"I ripped my blade from out a dying man's chest, and it was with, some sense of dread and a cruel form of poetry I realized it was my heart on the tip of that blade." - Richarlosse Caldwane

"Ya know, I think we're all just hearts, tryna find our way through the darkness in our ribcage. All it takes is a spark or two of some, curious emotion to light the way." - Markino Ravine

"My tears roll down my cheek like a brand seared into my memory. As if my sorrow is forever with me." - Jimmy Rummers

"I would swallow my grief, but I fear if I were to do so I would consume his memory." - Marvel Felinmote

"The world has no care for girls like me, but since when did that mean I don't get to have any care for someone like me? I battled with my demons until they became my friends, the angels with horns on my shoulder. Isn't it beautiful, to turn your nightmares into dreams with a forgiving smile?" - Emnia Ruzit

"I'm nothing but broken bottle amens spoken too fucking late." - Ash Caesar

"I marched into the battlefield me, but as the shrapnel and gunfire started surroundin' my heart on every side, it felt almost as if, history had begun etching my name away into the oh so infamous name of war." - Carickstan Spellman

"I wade in these depths unfamiliar, quiet madness creeping up the edges of my weed infested skull. This quaint little garden of insanity and unwell morality is mine, I tend to it with dagger like rain, letting the sun set it ablaze as Winter's ice cuts into it as if it were, a fresh cattle on the hook. This mind of mine is a shattered, broken, dying thing. But perhaps more so then ever I fear, that this garden has rotted, like seaweed left too long from out the ocean's waves. I am seafoam madness and coral reef sorrow, sinking into this ocean of who I am, drowning in things I never knew, nor perhaps, ever wanted to see." - Azekiel Gynsello

"I sit on the edge of violence like dark poetry unspoken. I am the ebony crow, soaring through dreams, weaving them into nightmares and shadow." - Everett Beaumont

"I once stood strong, like a soldier on the battlefield, knowing his country would win the war. But as my rifle fell from decaying fingers, clattering to the dirt, I found that hope, is a dead end dream, cause damn brother, the future turns against your promises." - Ramo Bonewitz

"My mother was an empty powder keg, but slowly, ever so slowly she filled herself with gunpowder rage, sinking into the depths of her anger. And as she looked at me, with perhaps, eyes that yearned for something more then the beast she'd become, I stared her back, with eyes she just couldn't love." - Rain Morvosina

"I tap my fingers against a type writer, tip tapping away as my memories are on display, like ink on a page that documents the misery of a man who doesn't know any other life. And as these poems and prose bleed into my fingers through the black letters I touch, I come to wonder if it was wrong of me, to escape reality with a writer's eyes." - Bovako Stillsworth

"My daddy always used to say that hate isn't the majority, they just scream louder then those who fear the stripping of their voice for speaking out against injustice. And he's right, cause as I shiver and shake in the face of someone's anger, I fear the consequences of speaking against violence." - Harmoni Thievesmire

"Regret is a chamber in which I sleep." - Romiro Smilowitz

"There's secrets in your heart. I would suggest casting them from your ribcage so they don't start tumbling from your lip, because if you so much as whisper of the darkness in me rest assured, you'll lose yourself in the span of  a revolver chamber's glistening silver." - Markston Valentine

"You went walking into Hell thinking it was the sun, didn't you? Don't you know beasts look like you? You've been a man of the law, for how long? And you didn't think twice what laid behind my smile?" - Markston Valentine

"To some I'm a death omen, others call me a bad man. Some people look at me as if I were some extant revival of Judas, sticking my knife in the back of justice, but to you, I'm a savior wrapped in the blood of the monster under your fucking bed." - Galio Brute

"I got an army inside this little chamber, and all of my bullet soldiers want you dead." - Galio Brute

"I'd ask forgiveness for killing the man who hurt Marigold, but I don't think Karma much cares for men who sit on the edge of violence with a grin." - Jakoby Fallhurst

"With my heart beat quick and rapid, the pullin' of my trigger came and went in the blink of that soon to be dead man's eyes." - Jakoby Fallhurst

"I used to sit at the edge of a revolver, right on the barrel. And as the gunsmoke wisped around my head, it felt like I had died while I was a livin', but all it took was a single leap of faith ta find myself outside that chamber 'a dead ends and sorrow glimpsed eyes of mirrored fates." - Jakoby Fallhurst

"Who you are is, patches of dead skin clinging to the tips of your fingers, it'll start with the blood drip, dripping from off the feeble hangnails of your identity, dripping away like wax from a candle ever roaring. Your identity will cling to you, but it will decay. Eventually, it'll start falling off in clumps of hair, dripping away from you forevermore, but it shall be ripped from you, like the first layer of your skin." - Mekivalla Brimsburn

"You call me human, but your panic beating heart unravels me as something eldritch in nature." - Mekivalla Brimsburn

"Do I, sit on your tongue like a sorrow danced question? Do I lay in your heart like an edged razor blade, carving little pieces off of who you are with memories of my smile and actions?" - Mekivalla Brimsburn

"I'm a, threadwork illusion, I slink into shadows unseen and appear like a ghost on the wind, sitting idle on cold cases and graves. Wherever I wander death is sure to follow, and as I look to this, field of open graves, I wonder which one is for me." - Morsvey Vitinbow

"He stared at me with a knife like smile, carving my identity from off my back like angel's wings burning in the midnight sky of Heaven. And as he ripped into the threadwork maze of my mind, he told me that he was just the point edge of a razor, carving pieces of me into pieces of him." - Bosko Hallramo

"His mind was a whisper of humanity, but if he had the courage he could've found a victorious shout of it echoing in a healed scar." - Malachi Razor

"Mystery called to me from the shadows of a forest, and as I discovered what the sinister tune's song meant, I felt as if, something started to die deep inside my bones. Like roses blooming from an open grave." - Abram Gothenburg

"My name sits like a dying raven on my tongue." - Hackton Acokliney

"You're stronger then you know, Gynso, it doesn't take shoving bullets in a chamber to find strength. All it takes is to accept your heart as it is, rainbow, decaying or golden. All hearts are equal, but some wither. Don't dig your heart a grave in an attempt to find yourself." - Keller McVito

"Don't you know, I was just like you once? Fighting for the people, bleeding, for the people. But, when push comes to shove sorrow and rage aren't enough to fill an empty chamber of revolution, so you have to put little pieces of you in those bullets, and eventually, you die, Keller." - Godfree Fallows

"In life, we are presented with two choices. Either you shove who you are so far down your throat that not even you, could reach him, or sit down and think, "Who am I?" and as the answer swirls in your mind, accept that, and become a gentle answer, rather then a forever burning question." - Keller McVito

"Her lips tasted like death ripping cold through my throat, her fingers daggers and knives digging into the notches of my spine. But worst of all, her heart tasted like an unholy omen of my death, sitting idle on her bare back." - Father Vorkaine Thorrel

"We aren't stars blinking out of the light, we're human. And with that, comes the capability to fight back, tooth, and bloody knuckle." - Father Vorkaine Thorrel

"It's once you call yourself holy that you realize you never were." - Father Goriah Thorell

"I place a weathered and scarred hand on my broken and damned heart, praying that I die a man I am." - Nathaniel Wessonlock

"Somedays, when I sit and wonder if I was ever really, a good man I feel a tinge of sorrow beat like a fragile rain drop in my heart. And as my mind tells me the blood staining the forest ground is on my hands, I come to wonder if the act of not noticing, the act of inaction and the act of cowardice, is perhaps more damning then pulling the trigger." - Bart Vanstick

"I don't believe in Karma, justice or anything like that. Those things have never worked in the favor of man, but what I do believe in is my pistol and the will to kill." - Nial Mooranan

"You've poisoned the river's in me, you stripped me screaming from who I am. And I have no fucking problem doing the same to you." - Nial Mooranan

"I'd watch your back, from here on out. There's serpents and vipers in the grass, and your heart is starting to look like a feast." - Sirius Mortales

"I'm a very powerful man, I'm practically a ghost, Ramo. I can be anywhere at any given time in many different vessels, I have eyes in the shadows of Evergreen's Bay. And you, my friend, have been ensnared in death's cold, hungry and starving maw." - Quentin Satchel

"You'd best know I hold a deadly grudge." - Quentin Satchel

"Underneath the shadows of foreign ravens and darkness blotting the cloud's of my heart, I fell, like a decaying angel in the night sky. And humanity called me a beautiful shooting star, and as they wished upon my burning hubris and wax, it was death and a curse they'd receive for wishing on shadows and dying angels." - Mallonzi Heckzen

"There were castles in his bones, pillars that held up his marble floor strength." - Abram Gothenburg

"You, are a dying question, you have no answer ricocheting in those mad bones of yours. And as you choke on your blood, it is insanity and a lack of humanity you'll taste on your teeth." - Ashvallio Bradburry

"That's what I want, don't you see! I don't want, to be human, it caused me such, aching pain, to be man. So with a howl and death in my throat I became something less then that. Something greater, then that." - Burns Mataugh

"I'm king 'a this hill, my throne is secured by my hammer and wit alone, and this hill is littered with the bones of those who tried ta push me. Dare you become bones?" - Shawn Werdesltein

"It was always humanity, that turned men to phantoms. Or the lack thereof." - Crow Sandelfreicks

"I've died, really. You can etch a stone with my forgotten name and seek whispers in the soils of my heart, but deep down, you'll see the bones of decay and raven beaks, wondering why such a merciful man's ribcage is stained with gunmetal and blood." - Crow Sandelfreicks

"You have come to the place saint's go to arise from their feeble skin, and out crawls the sinner hidden deep within the ribcage of hollow bone." - Farquad Debellio

"You've made a merciful man's heart beat with murder." - Crow Sandelfreicks

"In my brother's eyes, I saw shadows he didn't want, in his heart, though, I saw scars bleeding from a broken man's chest. And with some, sad sense of joy, I felt as if I needed to be his hero, for all my life, he's been mine." - Monica Hallmoore

"They called me a shadow, and as I first slipped into the dark, it became a truth sliding from their snake tongues." - Morello Hallmoore

"You will die, decaying like a gentle rose in my garden of withering willow trees, and by the end your petals will be black, your thorns will be covered in crimson pieces of yourself. Dare I say, you'll die a reflection of me?" - Allinza Harzvi

"I met death underneath decaying streetlight, and what a regretful thing it must be, to hold a scythe for something other than harvesting crop." - Greendale Moonwalk

"I, am a killer. A thief of life, and if you want to stop me from grasping at revenge with decaying and moss covered fingers, you will have to kill me." - Porter Blackburn

"To kill a monster you must become one! You can't hide in shadows as if you were a torch, no. You have to be an empty nebula." - Porter Blackburn

"I sit here, decaying in a broken chest, wondering if perhaps it is the sanity that rotted from my corpse." - Ebenezer Vanderholts

"My heart lays on the gallows, blackened and decaying. And the only thing I can ever do is watch the ghosts of my past let it swing." - Mirnivia

"I sing a tune on this three stringed lute, and all the damned beasts of Hell come running, thinking my song of salvation." - Serven Grimes

"Oh I didn't stand a chance in the hallways of sanity and peace, brother. But in this place of decaying laughter, I'm home." - Farquad Debellio

"I lost my mind in the echoes of the sinner's steeple, and as I stumbled blind towards salvation, echoing like a grin in the night, I knew that perhaps, to have no mind was a fate not much unlike death." - Farquad Debellio

"A heart unwell can't be revived, I fear. It can be risen from the dead, but in a sense it will always lurk with a sinister scent of death beating like sick blood in veins dying." - Draven Scotchfuel

"Thing is, I can't remember everyone I've killed. You're just a cold case to me brother." - Ewan Hanstammer

"When you become skin and bone, heart falling from your decaying chest, what do you do? Sometimes I wonder if I should shut off the lights of my flickering mercy, but other days I wonder if all in all, I'm the wick of a dying candle, doomed to fade away with the gust of hurricane rage brewing inside my cracked ribcage." - Harvano Axtortley

"Emotions are liars and bastards Clive, listen to them at your own risk." - Sandro Colorfeid

"In the foreign call of the ravens and crows I find not death omens, but squawks and signals that I am alive. I am breathing, and as the wolf howls to the moon, I know it is not my blood on his muzzle, but the blood of cruelty in the flecks of grey and brown." - Harmania Ackwallow

"I sat in a Church, feeling far off from God, miles away from salvation. And as that silver cross dangled like, faltering faith in the night sky, I knew that perhaps, the worst sin of all is to watch an angel fall." - Genesis Contritum

"You won't find salvation in that town, brother, you'll find four sin clad devils, and brother, I'm only the first mile on the highway to Hell." - Allinza Harzvi

"Sometimes, who we are isn't determined by our choices. Rather it's found in the echoes of someone else's cruel, wicked pieces of fate." - Tabbi Mariwitch

"You can't be the good guy in this place, it reeks of the death of minds and sanity alike. So you have to blend in, study the behavior of the unwell. Become, the unwell. In this place, being yourself is a suicidal act." - Ashvallio Bradburry

"You really think you know this place? There's madness creeping up every corner, girl, and if you wish to survive in this land of shadows, I'd suggest becoming one." - Ashvallio Bradburry

"You should fear the man with no identity, for he will change in the blink of an eye just to watch you fall." - Arthur Wellburn

"You can't just, look me in the eye and find your reflection. You'll find madness, you'll find flicks of love and pieces of grace left behind in your murderous stride." - Arthur Wellburn

"If this life I've lived is Hell, then his hand on my cheek or lips against mine must be what Heaven tastes like." - Annamarie Ghostwallow

"It feels as though, I have died while living. I wander white walls etched in the scars of the unwell, scratching at the confines of a skull that has a hard time containing a mind such as mine, and as I find myself shackled to a past that feels like a ghost following me, I know that perhaps, this is not life, but God's personalized Hell for a girl like me." - Annamarie Ghostwallow

"I once met a man in the shadows of pine trees and lights that flickered in his presence, and as he kneeled to my level and whispered that I was doomed, it was like a promise had seared like a brand in my mind." - Kurt Esterly

"He stood over me, with claws in the shape of human fingers and told me death yearned for the gentle souls rocking back and forth in the decadent night. And as he swooped down like a vulture decaying, I knew that he'd given me a grave without once digging talons into my flesh." - Melessia Maeson

"It was a gentle decay, the funeral of me." - Iresa Ramstead

"Beg for mercy child, get on your knees and wail to the Heavens divine that you may be spared of my wicked blade, but God was never listening to you, was he?" - The Begotten Wolf King

"Ya can't lose, life. You can't exactly win it neither, life can only ever be lived, really, but some people stare at ya with champion's eyes and hunger for something grand, and those are the kinda people who become wolves. Whom become something a little less than human." - Dixie Spindrift

"It is almost as if, when I look in the mirror I can see every single life flashing in my pupils like a threadwork book of memories and pieces of me I'll never truly hold. But perhaps the greatest tragedy of all, is watching as mercy crumbles in the heart of a kingdom of rust." - Delvina Sunset

"You can't just live life in the slums of your sorrow, you gotta let people reach down and give you a helping hand when all seems lost. Don't let the cruelty get to ya, more often then not, it's a shadow, and the sun will watch it wither." - Morgerra Kent

"They told me it would be wonderful, to rise with strength and gunmetal in my bones. But as I pulled a trigger against a criminal's skull, the concrete pooling red with pieces of my mercy, I knew, that they'd lied. Because this isn't strength in me, it's a cruel sense of power that doesn't leave a single soul the same as he was." - Nolan Walkenstein

"I feel as if, I faded away from myself. It wasn't a single violent action, I was not ripped away from this person I am, but rather, soft gusts of wind came on by and with it, left little pieces of me. And eventually, as the hurricane rolled on by, there was nothing left." - Vaughn Bonevarrow

"We were both, black roses, decayin' in some, odd way. But I feel as if, when our petals danced across each other's stems, that perhaps, tinges of red started takin' over the garden of our hearts." - Sandro Colorfeid

"I imagine we too, 'ave become monsters. Even if it weren't our intention." - Jasper Pollymore

"My mind is nothing but cobwebs and dust, barren of any spider to tell me how the silk was spun." - Pam Maywood

"I will stand before you, blade washed in your dreams." - The Begotten Wolf King

"As my father told me of the family name's curse, to bare burns of a torch they'd never hold and he said to me, "Daughter, you run from this home, it's a decaying matter of flesh and flickering torches." And as I told him he's my hero, and regret flickered in his hazel brown eyes, I ran from a heritage that never should've been my own, praying that my father escaped cruelties shadow." - Gwenda Malrosa

"Like bombs fading in the night sky, the boy I raised became nothing but sizzling cinders of explosive horror." - Aphrodite Bonstellos

"In the essence of life and death they whisper, "You are free, sinner's child, fly free like the dove holding parsley in his beak and bring forth a new era of peace." But peace was an illusion, built by the powerful and cruel, and so as I stare into the ever flickering eyes of chaos and sacrifice, I shall hold not parsley and peace in my beak, but threadbare and dying secrets in my bloodied maw." - Unknown McDonaghue

"No matter how many devils climb upon my shoulder, I will make sure they wither with the howling snarl of my rifle." - Espifanio Vanderhoof

"I look at history with the eyes of a warrior, and I know it can't have been easy, to die for causes not much unlike the one I find myself in now. But as I let my past flow through me like strength in my veins, I know I won't die a nobody." - Callenmire Bloodfire

"You can't just stand above peace like this, chaos ain't supposed ta be fair, love ain't sposed ta be this fantasy we can't ever god damn reach. But you sit here, with a grin of steel and bullets and tell me that peace is a fuckin' shadow." - Carleton Kazelstoh

"It always has been, it fades when the night comes down on us weary bastards of the dead world. So why the ever living fuck, would I call peace a friend when she leaves me every time the sun sinks?" - Estus Hunters

"My brother's mercy died in a bed of roses and slick cards, and if he were to stand above me with a razor edged blade, would he revive his mercy, or let it fade in the crimson flash of my death?" - Farstead Newton

"My heart beats sick with the dying cries of wicked bastards who threaten a dynasty pure and mighty. But I shalt not let this heart of mine fall threat to the decaying sense of shadow in the darkness' grin." - Brovalla Bladestone

"When the world threatens to tear who you are away from your bones stand strong and tall, for you will build a new identity from the strength it took to crumble." - Missouri Jolana

"The Devil whispered in my ear, "Succumb, broken child of the graveyard town filled with hollow secrets." But an angel in me told me that no man should find his grave etched with a name that is his own before he lays beneath it." - Scythas Hoffs

"As death drifts like smoke on the wind, spilling from the cigarette between my lips and I breathe in the essence of the huntsman's woods with a wicked grin creeping up my lip like a crease in paper folded by untethered hands, I know that this origami dove has become a wolf of paper and crimson claws." - Morias Doorvensteil

"I stick a match stick between my teeth and call it fangs of explosive nature. But alas, all I do is burn my tongue on bitter beliefs." - Varzol Rothschild

"A sense of belief is only useful when faced with wonder, I have found. For when faced with grotesque horror, belief will find you dead at the bottom of a dead man's loaded gun." - Byron Javellanos

"My heart were never a place I could call home, for as it clambered at me with angry claws and a maw of dagger like fangs I came to realize in the midst of all my hurt and pain, oh I wasn't me, but a threadwork beast made up of patches of sorrow and little pockets of memories. I ain't me, but maybe, I really fuckin' shouldn't be." - Gaston Mckinlay

"You know, dad, I don't think the gunfire makes you who you are. I think the gunfire and smoke builds broken pieces of who you are, but the regret, the love and the joy beating inside your chest is what makes you a soldier." - Liam Holwane

"It lays fresh in my mind, like fish reeled in too early, and I can't help but think I'm a bad man. Perhaps the war cheats in whispers, but if you call me your hero, son, I will accept a cape 'round my shoulders." - Brett Holwane

"My father once told me that the gunfire smoke blinds the vision of morality in soldier's eyes. And I get to wondering if with all this cigarette smoke and shadow blinding me, if it'd be wrong to deem myself a moral man." - Liam Holwane

"No one was there for me until I heard quiet whispers in the flowers others would've chosen to crush for speaking of truths in quiet." - Benjamin Diggory

"They called me a rose pin grenade, and with regret I showed them my shrapnel." - Hallana Ragecue

"My heart wilted away as a ghost I know all too well lingers over my shadow, frail and gentle like the flower of hearts and roses he was." - Harlene Ballendger

"I can taste war dyin' bitter on my tongue, and as I place a weathered hand over my old sailor's cap, breathing in fresh ocean air and dying poems of people long gone, I get to wondering if the war is over, why do I still tremble in the presence of the past? Perhaps all war ever was is a ghost, sitting lonely on soldier's shoulders." - Stickzen Myadro

"In this world I have learned two things. You have to kill who you are to survive, and living and breathing are not the same thing, so as I pulled the trigger of my identity and died a woman I am not, I started living, breathing in the essence of death on a sunny day." - Minzina Strumvell

"She's dying lights in my head, dancing in the monotony of my grey splashed canvas." - Helzano Borvenkayer

"Humanity is just one big fuck up on God's part.” - Darlo Vanishpoi

“ This world is just, a crushing coffin that lays heavy on my chest, with an annoyed sigh I rise in the morning knowing that today is just another cigarette hazed Monday, a booze infested morning. “ - Darlo Vanishpoi

“ Is that all God is? A beast of many colors breaking his creations out of rage and disappointment?” - Darlo Vanishpoi

“ Truthfully, I'm trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel. But it looks oddly familiar, you know? And as I squint to see better in the darkness I'm surrounded by on the daily, I come to realize the light is just the spark of another cigarette, and like a moth, I trot towards the buzzing lights as if they wouldn't god damn kill me. Guess that's all broken men are, moths, drawn to the hazed and dancing lights of another forlorn day." - Darlo Vanishpoi

“ Sweet dreams, my friend, are nothing more then an illusion spun by the mind, and as you drift to the land between dreaming and reality, remember, that nightmares have always been a twisted version of reality, and so they hold some, sinister sense of truth behind their monsters and hallways full of mirrored images of who you're not. “ - Ghost Shiv

“ Don't you find it peculiar, how we call humanity beasts and animals because they spill the blood of their own kind? But tell me one predator that hunts its own kind. Tell me one species in this universe, besides human, that will rip its own kind to shreds because they felt like it. You'll find that humanity is the darkest kind of animal to roam the planet, and with my empty smile, I seek to prove it. “ - Ghost Shiv

“ Someone I know once told me that the broken have to stick together, and, that's such a peculiar thought. Because as soon as a mirror drops to the concrete, the glass pieces scatter away from one another." - Ghost Shiv

“ I was born in a world of shadow, sitting at a long table of bones and roses, and as I scarfed down every meal of death I could find life gave me a scythe in which I could reap with. “ - Clementine Ashburnum

“ Violence for violence is the rule of beasts, they say. But I say violence for violence has always been the rule of humanity, for we were never much good at hiding our fangs, where we?” - Clementine Ashburnum

“ I was born to rule this land of shadow and bone, and so I sit atop my throne of violence and thank the beasts for swallowing me whole. “ - Clementine Ashburnum

“The world doth not spin kindly. It thrashes like a violent wave and fills the ship of humanity with cold, black water, firing cannons into the mast and oak wood of our boat. And so the storm destroys what is left of humanity, and thus we become beasts.” - Clementine Ashburnum

“ I've been kicked down and broken my whole life, choking on things that shouldn't exist, my pops always told me that we'll make it through another day. We just gotta go day by day, we just gotta get our minds through another damn week. And I say sorry to the clouds that he didn't damn well make it, cause as I lay roses at his grave tears roll like anger from my cheek and I clench my damn fist. Cause life just ain't fair, is it?” - Arnoldo Hungaris

“ Some people are born in Hell, and there's no way out of the flame. “ - Arnoldo Hungaris

“ All my life I've just wanted to be a somebody, but the day I was born the world looked down on me with a cruel grin and said that I just weren't born to be someone. So I picked up pieces of identity off the gravel road I'd been travelin' and played myself a game of identity roulette, never knowing who the fuck I'd be with the next pullin' of my dead man's trigger. “ - Arnoldo Hungaris

“ You ever feel as though your sense of self is dyin', witherin' away inta something that just don't god damn exist any longer? Cause this person I am has been fadin' from me for a long forty five years, and I'm just tryna catch the little pieces 'a identity as they flitter away like cinders in the damn breeze. “ - Dante Dunbar

“ My son looks ta me with sorrowed eyes and my daughter looks at me with wonder and joy, tellin' me I'm a good man. I'm the best go don' father she ever could'a had. But there's secrets sitting idle on my breath, but they don't ever leap from off my tongue, cuz I'm scared 'a what'll happen when all my darkness tumbles out from this box of pain I've shoved it in. It beats against the cage of pinewood and chain, roaring a melody of violence swearin' up and down that when it gets out I'm fucked and there ain't nuthin' I can do 'bout it. And I start ta believe the dark and toxic thoughts.” - Dante Dunbar

“ I grew up fast brother, and I didn't quite grow up so kind. So as I tell you I'm a bad man with regrets, don't you praise me without knowin' what them deadly sins is. “ - Dante Dunbar

“ Sometimes life will damn you to a fate so cruel and demented that you don't really come to figure kindness exists. Every eye seems like a stalker's gaze, every word feels like a lie off a tongue of silver, but some people are good, I've come to learn. “ - Clover Delecroix

“ I'm just a man trying his hardest to survive in this fucked up world, but my life was stripped from me so fast by four Devils who claimed themselves unwell and cruel. And as they came for me with insanity riddled grins and monster filled eyes, I came to realize that monsters will always wear the skin of man, because it's the easiest way to blend in, man. “ - Clifton Arslania

“ Ya know, my mom used to say that the kindest angels make the cruelest demons, and as I look to my scarred and weathered hands I get to wondering if I was an angel, once upon a time. But my halo's starting to grow horns and my wings are falling off my back feather by feather, and in the end, I'm just gonna be another man who let his demons take over the house in his head. “ - Clifton Arslania

“ I was just a kid when my whole world fell apart, and now I'm six feet from the edge of my fate, and I'm starting to wonder if it would be such a long fall. “ - Clifton Arslania

“ I can still remember her laugh, the way she'd fight back a smile when I told her how proud I was. She was a rebellious kid with trouble in her heart but hope in her smile, and without her.. I fear all I am is trouble and cigarette smoke, holding onto memories I swear I'll never forget. But these memories start to slowly fade, as if an eraser strikes at them, little pieces of them drifting away. I begin to forget what her laugh sounded like. I begin to forget the way her smile danced, or how she'd show me these, stupid, fucking internet things I never understood. Or how she told me all about the boy she liked, how she even thought that, she might have a future with him. But the future was ripped from her like a shadow, and I fear, with her future I too, was lost. “ - Darlita Romilez

“ My name tastes like a bitter drug on my tongue.” - Darlita Romilez

"I met a man full of ghosts in the haunted streets of my hometown, and as he rose specters from the grave of secrets and lies, I came to realize why people fear the dark. It isn't because of the shadows, but what owns said shadows, what lurks alongside, said shadows. You see, there's always going to be monsters hiding in the dark crevices of humanity, and they'll always say that the light is their domain and us kind hearted saints have taken it forcefully from their clawed hands. But monsters lie, my friend. It is only monster nature for them to smile with blood in their teeth, for as soon as a man spills blood for his own self gain, he becomes something very much less than human. “ - Fred Douglass

“ My heart is an old one, it has been since I turned thirteen and spilled my secrets from a chipped tea cup, my parents using the single shard of glass to try and cut the truth from out my rainbow heart. But they never could. Because the truth, it doth not die. “ - Fred Douglass

“ I heard once that the truth is like a lion, let it go, it will defend itself. And this, is very well true. But lies are like cowering, frightened little crows, and soon as you throw a stone their way they squawk and caw, fleeing like a deer from a wildfire.” - Fred Douglass

“ I'll raise my revolver to the misery and pull the trigger, because a man who has something to fight for is always gonna be stronger than the man who has nothing left to die for. “ - Sav Gothenburg

“ Life, in all of its sorrow, is a story, we gotta read every chapter of our life. No skimming. No skipping pages because the pain is too much to bare. We gotta let our story be complete. Sometimes the ink will warp and twist into blood and bone, but we gotta pick up the quill and write a story that ain't all that bad. “ - Sav Gothenburg

“ I've always been an odd girl, chasing shadows because they intrigued me or finding warmth in the cold pale glow of the moon. “ - Claire Orwell

“ I'm just a tragedy away from fading away into the night from whence I came.” - Claire Orwell

“ I'm afraid of the dark because it's where I've resided all my life.” - Claire Orwell

“I was not loved as a child. I can still hear booming shouts that forced me to hide away from reality, I can still feel the broken bottles against my cheek, or the way my covers felt like a safe haven away from all the rage inside my childhood home. But I hath no covers to hide under to escape my mind.” - Claire Orwell

“ I'm just a girl of trouble wondering where the hell the light at the end of her tunnel has gone, cause I keep tripping on barbed wire and regret, wondering if any cars will catch me on my way to salvation. “ - Christie Shadow

“ I met a man at the edge of the streetlights, he sparked up a cigarette, tattoos flickering in the orange glow like scars of battle, and he told me that he could give me an opportunity to be someone. To actually matter. And with a foolish smile, I followed him, like the deer who didn't mind the bloodstains on the wolf's maw. “ - Christie Shadow

“ You know, I always just wanted to be somebody. I wanted to live a life I could be proud'a, but when you're born on the streets with a mother who doesn't care and a father who left a long time ago, you don't much get that chance. She was just a drugged up ghost, sitting on the edge of her deathbed with red eyes and a smile. So I followed a path that I thought would be my one way ticket out of Hell. But the cruel men always hid paradise behind their smiles, huh?” - Christie Shadow

“ I tried to pick up a dagger and toss it at my misery, but it always sinks into my peace like fangs of cruelty, chipping pieces of me away with the edge of a scalpel. “ - Christie Shadow

“ People are always trying to say that humanity is inherently wicked, but that was never true. I've seen the kindness in men's hearts, but I've also seen the wickedness that flows like death in the veins of a man who called himself a wicked and lean vulture sitting atop the Church to consume the flesh of the saintly and good hearted.” - Chester Bronkzeim

“ My identity is like wallpaper from an old mansion, sometimes it peels away, it cracks and starts to show the true colors of who I am. And there's a secret or two in my walls.” - Chester Bronkzeim

“He grins, the blood of my identity on his fucking teeth.” - Chester Bronkzeim

"Don't you understand, the beasts have always been hiding in the public eye? They look like your every day people. They smile. They laugh. But don't you dare trust the bad man's grin, it's filled with broken promises and hearts he's stopped on a fucking whim. “ - Leo Griggs

“ They've always praised the wolves with blood on their fucking teeth, so I just learned to blend in with the crowd and flash a crimson stained smile to the crowd. Woops and cheers from society sound like a melody of violence to the powerful.” - Leo Griggs

“ My ribcage has always looked like the open doors of a slaughterhouse.” - Leo Griggs

“I stand like a death omen, sitting atop the old graveyard of saints, laughing at the way they've been buried underneath my fucking power.” - Charlie Griggs

“ Why would I be kind, when I could be powerful? “ - Charlie Griggs

“ True power does not come from kindness, my friend. Take a look at the fucking history books won'tcha? Nothing was ever done without a little multitude of violence and sin. Wanna free the slaves? You're gonna have to take up arms and spill some blood for the cause. Violence is the foundation on which humanity stands, has been ever since Cain struck down Abel, and in my eyes, it always will, be the foundation on which we stand.” - Charlie Griggs

“ Humanity is a tapestry of the Devil's dreams, and damn, if I ain't a testament to all the lord tried to condemn. “ - Charlie Griggs

“ When I first stood with blood on my hands and murder in my black heart, I knew that who I am had died a heart wrenching death. He choked on the same bullet as the man who laid dead at my fucking feet.” - Charlie Griggs

“ This world's not kind to those who live by the code of honor and kindness, but you can't let this beat you down. You can't let this kill ya. Or else the world will become a graveyard of dreamers who gave up. “ - Gavin Rustington

“ Most of those who fall subscribe to the ideology that others deserve the fall with 'em, so they reach claws from out the depths of their misery and pull others down with them. This creates a perpetual cycle of violence and death. Don't dare swallow the idea that your pain is a violent raging melody that everyone deserves to hear sung so darkly into the night.” - Gavin Rustington

“ Not all villains were angels, but not all Devils are cruel, and not all angels are kind. The world's just not so black and white." - Gavin Rustington

“ My heart beats a melody of rage and cruelty sinkin' inta the miserable depths of my revenge, and as the flames flicker in my eyes, I feel like a reflection of the tragedies that broke me down ta a vengeance driven beast, sippin' on blood red streams as if they were clear. “ - Vokard Killjaw

“ Brother, there's blood on my cold teeth and some sense of decay lurkin' in my jaw, so as I smile and my fangs start a rottin', you best know that life took this whole boy and turned him inta an arson lullaby, bitin' down on bullets etched with a name all too familiar. “ - Vokard Killjaw

“ I met death in the flickerin' flames of Hell and with a silver drenched smile he told me tragedy lurked in the veins of all whom seek a higher purpose. And as I cut open my wrists, tragedy mixed in with my blood, my vision blurrin' with delusions of peace, I found that rage tastes like my name on my tongue, and death tastes like mercy on the teeth of the vengeful. “ - Vokard Killjaw

“ I struck out at the young age 'a thirteen, choking on my halo of dust and decadent stars, prayin' ta the lord that he'd save me from the Devil that wore my father's eyes. But he never did. God don't listen ta the broken, he watches 'em fall, he watches 'em stumble through thorns and blackberry bushes, but he don't ever give a helpin' hand, do he? Cuz I sit here in my corner of nowhere and drink myself a quiet hummed lullaby of whiskey regrets and cigarette stained memories, wondering how the Hell I became my father. “ - Denzel Thievesmire

“ I'd say sorry for what I done, but it won't change a damn thing, it won't bring together the hearts I broke, it won't heal the scars I etched, so I let fate take me on down ta the river in which I may drown in my sins.” - Denzel Thievesmire

“ My sister once told me that life is a colored blade, and depending on how true our heart is, the blood will be a different color. So I gotsa wonder why black blood drips from the blade of life as it etches me with scars of my human nature.” - Denzel Thievesmire

“ I didn't want trouble, but brother, trouble wanted me.” - Denzel Thievesmire

“ The man who raised me was a shadow in the daylight, standing above who I could be with a scythe, willing to reap my identity from me as soon as I found out who I am. And I always accepted that, because I had never known any other life. But as Olly danced his fingers across my cheek and told me that freedom is not a house of four walls and staying shackled to a single place, I knew that, maybe I could finally be somebody. Maybe I could finally be me.” - Stenlana Borswell

“ I'd read of romance in so many novels, envying the girls and boys who found a happily ever after at the end of their story. I was jealous of fiction because I had never really lived in reality. But as soon as his lips pressed against mine, my heart started to beat with colors it had never seen, as if our love was a tapestry of what could be, and what would be. I found love in front of me, and I couldn't just let it escape. So with courage in my heart I ripped myself free from cruelties shadow, soaring on pale white wings of bravery and identity I'd never known. “ - Stenlana Borswell

“ Hate, my friend, is as old as time. But so is love. “ - Celdvel Creitz

“I strap this old hat to my head and strike a match, creating a spark of revolution in the air of cruelty and division.” - Celdvel Creitz

“ I reserve my hate for those who stand above peace like shadow lickin' flames, sittin' at the edge of a cruel man's revolver swearing up and down, this is the only damn way. There's wolves hidin' in the shadows of the revolution, and brother, they blend in with the sheep, they always will. Cause monsters always shared human qualities.” - Celdvel Creitz

“ My life hasn't been a kind one, I'm shotgun shells and violence on the cold shore of peace, and as I stumble blindly on a path that was never truly my own, I come to realize that a man who's seen violence will never be the same. Any man with blood on his hands will never be an angel, after all, we're human, we're fragile and kind, decaying as we walk towards another day with hearts of violent tendencies.” - Cavinsta Tilvain

“ It is as if my mind works in agony, slaving away at a factory, spewing out toxic thoughts and packaging them to deliver to my fragile heart, as if my mind is an overworked employee, enraged by the conditions in which he is worked.” - Cavinsta Tilvain

“ Since our minds were starving, they devoured themselves in search of a meal.” - Cavinsta Tilvain

“ I'm not a fighter, I'm a killer. There's such a fine difference in that. A fighter raises a fist or two for what he loves, a killer raises a revolver in search of another day, praying that he'll survive this murder of self. But he never does, hm? “ - Cavinsta Tilvain

“ I just wanted to see my sons grow up and be strong, capable young men. But the past follows us close, and no matter how many miles we run, its always that much faster, gripping our scars with razor sharp claws, carrying us away with fangs we recognize. Cause we've been bitten by them before. “ - Cathleen Colt

“A shadow is only as dark as he who walks alongside it.” - Cathleen Colt

“ I'm scratched up and fucked in the head looking for a way out of this maze of memories and shadows, but I'm always finding dead ends, man. And I fear I always will. Because sorrow doesn't let the kind girl go, it holds her down and rips the tears from her cheeks with blood dripping fangs, holding her still, holding her down forevermore. Licking pieces off of you with a razor sharp tongue, and as you weep, she always collects your tears. “ - Carvoxi Crickenmow

“ I stand still, frozen by the fear and sorrow, and every single time I take a step, the beast in me stirs, as if awoken by the sound of my foot shuffling against concrete. “ - Carvoxi Crinckenmow

“ What a sorrowful thing it is, to hold onto the memories that killed me because they're all I have left. “ - Carvoxi Crickenmow

“ Chance, I have learned, is everything. “ - David Faim

“ Think of life like a game of Russian roulette. We all have different chambers. We all have a different amount of bullets. It's up to us when we pull the trigger. So I sat in my quiet office, picking at the fabrics of my heart, and with a sigh I put the revolver under my chin. And with one action colors burst from my skull, pieces of me splattered against the white walls in red and grey, and as I slumped against an old chair, who I am died. And who I am would stay that way. I had always been lost, ever since that fateful Christmas Eve, clutching to the pieces of me I wished I could keep, uttering the same word over and over again, as if I were some distorted echo. "Why?" I cried. "Why?" I screamed. "Why?" I whispered. But answers never came for the weary ghost of David Faim. “ - David Faim

“ Chance doesn't care about who you are. It comes for you with greedy fingers that look like golden bullets, and as it digs into your mind it searches for misery, and if it can't find any. Well rest assured it will make some with gunpowder and regret. “ - David Faim

“ There was a locked door where life was supposed to be, my friend, and death was the key that'd always been hidden in plain sight. “ - Ioza Ragmathora

“ You can not find me in the Heavens nor below in the fiery depths of Hell, for I am a being so dark and twisted that the world doth not give me damnation or salvation. For I would corrupt both. “ - Ioza Ragmathora

“ I chose violence over peace because it gave me a chance to live. “ - Ioza Ragmathora

“ I sit like a whisper in my mind, decaying like a rose in the Winter, stem and thorn falling apart as the breeze drifts past me. I've never been a girl of peace, always did darkness know my name. And the shadows knew that. It's how they tricked me into following the colored lights. Because to a girl who's known darkness her whole life, light of any kind feels like salvation, like grace. Like Heaven. But I found that it was the flames of Hell I had followed, like a doe trotting just behind her mother, finding that it was blood trails she'd been following all along. “ - Kemlia O’Sullrain

“ I have bled so much from my wrists. Humanity. Peace. Joy. Everything that makes me Kemlia O'Sullrain has bled from my veins like a river splashing against the shores of Heaven. “ - Kemlia O’Sullrain

“ There is no peace for the beasts of this circus. We howl, we laugh, we cry. But we do not die. We never do. Which is perhaps the most sorrowful thing, to live in a world that never loved you. That never cared. “ - Kemlia O’Sullrain

“ You know, when you're just an orphan that no one wants, you get to wondering what the fuck your purpose is in this world. And then you get adopted, and you think life will look up. But perfect doesn't last. Not in a world of violence. Not in a world of hate. “ - Wendy Pazcko

“ Justice has never looked so cold in his eyes.” - Wendy Pazcko

“ I prowl underneath the shade like a shada' of violence, sinkin' unholy fangs inta the deer and sheep who think cougars will spare the peaceful. But there's never been a rule 'a violence that didn't kill the good hearted. So I sling a rifle over my shoulder and become the violent. “ - Carter Burningham

“ Ya know, a young girl once told me that I was damned for what I'd done ta her heart, and so I flashed her a yella grin and told her I know, that's why I fuckin' did it. Because I've lived a life chock full 'a sin, so what's one more? What's ten more? Hell, what's another lifetime 'a damnation ta the sinnin' man but paradise? “ - Carter Burningham

“ It is not often, that a soldier can hear the sound of silence.” - Carrick Miles

“ I would never call myself a hero. Because every war has its sides, every soldier has his story, so in turn every man I ever killed had a past, a family. People who loved him or her dearly. And with one bullet, I damned them to a sound of silence and regret, sinking into their skull like gunpowder misery. I'm not a good man, I'm not a hero. So please don't call me one. “ - Carrick Miles

“ I'm a soldier, yes. But a hero? I never could've been. For destiny told me to pull a trigger against my heart, and with a lonesome little sigh and a voice soaked in the tears of angels and saints alike, I pulled back the hammer and said, "Yes sir." - Carrick Miles

“ "When da world kicks ya right in ya bloody snout, you oughta stand tall and mig'y like the oak tree in a garden 'a withering willows. I mean, If ye sit 'round like a lazy bum and say I did all I could, ya're just the butt of a cigarette, sittin' lonely in da fuckin' ash tray. “ - Caldayo Blousey

“ I's learned that love is a war, and often, it's hate that'll shoot ya down like a bird soarin' through the sky, crashin' inta the trees without wings ta guide ya.” - Caldayo Blousey

“ If ya wanna fuck with da Blousey's I suggest turnin' da other way, cause mate, we ain't sheep, we ain't angels, neither. We're dogs, loyal as can be.” - Caldayo Blousey

“ I was just a kid of the streets, running towards destiny with tattered sneakers and a grin so big you'd think it was cut into my cheeks, but that kid died, man. And he's not coming back. “ - Cage Azvinka

“ I'm just a broken nobody in a world that demands I be someone.” - Cage Azvinka

“ It honest to God feels like I'm cursed. By what, I can never god damn tell, maybe it's me, maybe it's something old as time that creeps up my sinner's bones, but whatever this is, people call it reality. They call it destiny, fate, or anything else that excuses them from their actions. “ - Cage Azvinka

"If you wanna find a heart, stop looking in my ribcage. “ - Bone Hungarson

“ I used to feel, it was such a wonderful, beautiful thing. But as I slide razors across my wrist it must be the empathy I'm bleeding from me, all the things that make me human running from out my veins in crimson splotches. “ - Bone Hungarson

“ I wish to control my thoughts, but demons nag at my skull, tearing little pieces of my mind off with a hungry maw and bleeding teeth. So I accept this monster I've become and become friends with the demons that seek to kill me. “ - Bone Hungarson

“ I never wanted to be a gunmetal soldier, but here I am, with a spine of smoke and wildfire, sitting at the edge of war with a pistol and an aim that was earned through the death of others. “ - Gordon Jackson

“ I've fought in countries I can't fucking name, killed men I can hardly remember, and I know they say only the mad man remembers everyone he ever killed. But maybe it's the only way to stay sane. “ - Gordon Jackson

“ That's the regretful thing about life, it tears people away from you that you thought you'd have for a long time.” - Gordon Jackson

“ I sit on the edge of revolution, wondering if I'll have to raise my fists, or a steady revolver.” - Lily Van Velk

“ He's a shadow that's been cast over our town, and so we gotta be the darkness that vanquishes him, we gotta be the dark so that we can find the light. “ - Lily Van Velk

“ My ma didn't raise no fool, she raised a woman who fights her battles with wit and a trusty ol' revolver etched with the family name. I see pieces 'a my ma in my reflection and as I load this chamber with pieces 'a myself, I pray ta every God listenin' that by the end of the war 'gainst peace I'm still me. “ - Harmalene Stagner

“ I am a whisper on the horizon.” - Raimunduss Wolffes

“Having power, and being powerful, are two very different things.” - Raimunduss Wolffes

“ They call me a phantom, a bastard drunk off of power and sin, but in truth, I am drunk off the idea of immortality. The Gods can not create something eternal. For everything withers. Everything dies. But there's little pockets of their Godhood hidden in cracks and corners, and perhaps as I travel the world with my ever steely gaze and strong sense of belief in my goal, that I can change the perception of immortality. “ - Raimunduss Wolffes

“ We're all just trying to find ourselves in a maze of who we're not, shuffling through different identities, wondering when we'll find ourselves in our own damn skin. And as I brushed my fingers against my own cheek, looking at this woman I'd become, I knew that I had finally found the end of the maze. All those dead ends and, I'd finally found home in arms that were my own. “ - Blossomwitz Dakota

“ My identity slips from between my fingers like the river's water, and as I sink into this ocean of black blood, I know that perhaps, I was never an angel, just a devil who didn't know what sin tasted like. “ - Betty Shalfien

“My tears don't change a thing but the hue of the soil.” - Betty Shalfien

“ Life doesn't ever treat people fairly, bad things happen to good people simply because, the world doesn't really operate on what's right or wrong, it doesn't operate on karma or social status. The world just spins while we move with it, and people are always blaming the bad things that happen on the world. But usually the fault is always behind the person who pulled the trigger, or the person who used the knife to cut scars into your fragile heart.” - Barb Riverbrook

“True weakness comes from the black heart.” - Aura Honeybadger

“ It is not often the kind man survives the chilling and calculated wrath of the powerful, cruel one, for as he sticks by his morals and says he'd never stoop to my level, this old and decaying tombstone of mercy swoops down like the guillotine's shadow, cutting his head from off his neck. Who do you think won? The kind man who wouldn't kill? Or the cruel and unmerciful shadow of a man standing above the kind man's grave with ghosts of roses to lay at his forgotten and unmarked grave? “ - Clayton W. Scarrberry

“ I believe that, on that cold Autumn evening I met death dancing under the pale and flickering streetlights, for no one else could truly rip at the seams of mercy like her. No one else could've torn heroism from my heart but her. Death won't always come for you with a scythe, my friend. Sometimes death looks at you with loving, human eyes and steals you away with a cold kiss that feels much like the opposite of life. “ - Clayton W. Scarrberry

“ I'm a hollow secret sitting at the edge of peace, waiting for fools and saints to clamber on by to ask me for advice, and as they hear my words tumble from a lip bruised and silver, they're satisfied, for awhile. But as soon as my words twist and turn into curses, they regret talking to the old raven who knows a thing or two. “ - Royal Hondros

“ I see my daughter look at me with sorrowed eyes, telling me that I'm a bastard, a cheat, a horrible father. And she can bark, bark and bark all she likes, but deep down she must know, she'll never bite. She is no wolf, neither am I. But she likes to think herself one, so I'll sit in quiet anticipation and watch as she riles herself up, until eventually she tires herself out and finds that, to die, does not mean to be buried.” - Royal Hondros

“ Man, I've met a lot of the darkness in this world, most of it in the eyes of a man full of specters and dead railroad ghosts, selling his nightmares to all who wanted to find peace of mind. He's the reason, I've got blood on my fucking hands, and that, man, I just can't forgive. But if I ever could, I'd spill blood again just to watch him fall down his sinner's tracks, caught between the two trains he's ruled by. “ - Mark Bellwitz

“ I've led a life of trouble and cigarette smoke, chasing daydreams and girls when I was just a young gun with his smile wide and bright. But sometimes, life, it pulls the dreamers down to reality and tells them to walk on without their dreams, because life is harsh, it's cruel, and a dreamer can't survive without a little bit of nightmares. So I walk through a valley of nightmares praying that I'm enough to survive, and as Ciri takes my hand I know, maybe I'm not enough to survive on my own, but with her? I've got one helluva fighting chance. “ - Mark Bellwitz

“ I'm just a howl drunk beast, rippin' through the skin 'a Laramie Diamond.” - Laramie Diamond

“ There's two wolves in me, mate. One howls and bites, gnawing at the confines of me skull, crackin' little pieces of me mind on 'is way outta me, but da other is a loyal bugga', sittin' at da edge of wisdom with a song in 'is fur draped heart. And dey say the wolf who'll win is da one ya feed. And so, with a soldier's broken sigh, I pull another trigger and feed da beast in me. “ - Laramie Diamond

“ I'll be honest, somedays I feel lost, somedays I'm wondering in a quaint little maze, walking towards the edge of my sorrow, wondering what it would feel like, to leap into the waters below. But I have people all around me who help me when I'm down, and I think that's a beautiful thing, ya know? Sure, I miss my dad.. a lot, but he'd want me to keep on pushing forward, he'd want me to manage to, move on, not forget, but move on. “ - Aurora Hop

“ I know that perhaps, my father lives in these quaint little mazes of me. I've got a lot left to live for, ya know? Like uncle Ickden and Orin, they've always been heroes, shoving me out the way of danger and brandishing quills and pens like revolvers of truth. And I hope they both know, how much they've helped me. Because when my father vanished in the wind, they built me a new pair of wings and told me to soar, even if the new wings were built from torn off pieces of theirs.” - Aurora Hop

“ I don't wanna be just, some guy, I wanna be Ashton Worthington, the boy who became something. “ - Ashton Worthington

“ Usually what you ponder on will become you, so if you start thinking deeply about yourself, eventually you'll become him, right? Conjure who you are into reality with simple thoughts and deep love for who you are. “ - Ashton Worthington

“ You can't be who you're not, because in the end, that person will rip through you, whether it's a violent matter or not is entirely up to you. “ - Ashton Worthington

“ My sister told me her truths, letting them spill from the gentle river's of her heart, and as I told her I still look up to her, and I always will, I remember her crying a little bit and giving me a big ol' hug. Because she's always been my hero, ya know? She doesn't wear a cape, but she wears fancy gowns and hoods I don't know the name of, and as she smiles wide with that amazing wife of hers, I know that she's a happy, hero. “ - Andrina Prinscella

“ I once stood like a reaper in a field of forgotten graves, sitting as rage dying in an empty chest, pulling the trigger of my revolver because I had something in my fucking chamber, but then, life came along and built me a new pair of wings in the eyes of a man who's troubled but beyond all reason and doubt, loved. His lips taste like redemption, his eyes swim with my peace, and when I hold his hand I know that perhaps, he and I heal each other with little pieces of ourselves. “ - Mary Adler

“ I think it's beautiful, that a hurting soul can become a loved one within the span of a few weeks, a cruel woman like me can find life in the eyes of all she loves within months. “ - Mary Adler

“ I am a question rattling in my throat and dying on my tongue.” - Geras Creek

“ She once, asked me who I am, and, it's such a simple question, but a difficult one to answer.” - Geras Creek

“ Blood that is not my own forms like bruises on my lips.” - Geras Creek

“ I'm road kill sitting on the side of a dead end highway, a deer with it's ribcage ripping through its flesh, and as I rise from this grave of concrete and gravel, I become less and less familiar with my humanity. And one day, my humanity shall flicker and fade away like a candle's flame in a gust of hurricane winds, dripping down the wick like a forgotten secret in the wax. “ - Geras Creek

“ I often wonder what it would be like, to succumb to fantasy, where I could hold my son again, or love the world as it is, but this world isn't beautiful, it's cold and ugly, reminding us humans that we're just a plague infecting the notches of its gentle spine, sitting on its heart like a flower that never should've bloomed. “ - Moonshine

“ I remember the man who killed me, he sits like a poltergeist in my fragile mind, screaming and shouting in empty sins and cruel man's shadow eyes. He once told me that I was nothing but a doll sitting quiet on the shelf, dust and mildew creeping up the edges of my dress as I decayed and rotted with all of God's other forgotten toys. And with a tear glossed cheek, I realize the cruel bastard was right, because I weep myself a lullaby of ponies dancing in a field wishing I could join them. “ - Moonshine

“ My children look at me with mourning eyes, tear glossed and sorrowed, like, glass reflections of my heart. “ - Leonard Bakers

“ I can still remember everything about Kristin, for she sits here in my mind like a ghost I don't wanna expel from this world, you know, I can still see my fingers coiled with her bright orange hair, or how she'd scrunch up her nose to keep her glasses from falling off her cute, pretty and beautiful face. Or how, her eyes told a story, something beautiful and intensely poetic, and as she danced her fingers across my cheek, or pressed her lips against my skin and my bruises, I thought that I had found life in her whispers. But a man tore my love from me, and as she screamed and cried for mercy, God turned his back on the world and left it a quiet whisper. “ - Leonard Bakers

“ Time doesn't heal all wounds, my friend, it just teaches us how to live with scars on our fragile and decaying hearts of gold." - Leonard Bakers

“ I quite often feel as though I am far from myself, sitting like a pale white raven, pecking at the seams of graves he's dug, some are me, some are other people, but either way, these white feathers pale don't reflect my heart. “ - Alejandro Lepo

“ I am like a dying, withering daisy and as the gardener comes to tend to her crop, she would cut me from this bed of soil and mourn for this poor little decaying thing she couldn't save. “ - Alejandro Lepo

“ There's blood on my hands where the empathy used to be.” - Quentin Satchel

“ On a whim I could have, anything I wanted in my hands. I'll admit, I've sinned deviously. Hunted man in the forests of my mansion, gunning young girls down as if they were lions in the deserts of Africa and spilt blood all because, well, I felt like it, really. “ - Quentin Satchel

“ Anyone, could've become me. “ - Quentin Satchel

“ I met death at the young age of ten, watching as blood splattered the halls of my home, a dying cry of mercy ripping through everything I ever knew's throat, and as I sat there in silence, I think something might've broken in me, perhaps it was my purity seeping like crimson omens from my veins. “ - Cavos Von Glorenstein

“ My friend, this world is not so kind, I am a fair example of that.” - Cavos Von Glorenstein

"What do you do when home is a person you've lost? “ - Addison Von Sparrow

“ I remember when I first met him, his bones filled with sorrow scraped scars, his heart rotting like a dying star in his chest, and I felt as if, when I traced my fingers across his bare chest, little pieces of him began to heal, as if he was finally becoming himself. And so I kissed his scars and his bruises, running my hands through his thick hair as I loved him without regret, without a drip of doubt. And as he held me in his arms and kissed my cheek with lips fraught with troubled sins and shadows, I knew that love was always beautiful, and it always will be. “ - Addison Von Sparrow

“ My childhood home reeked of death and gunmetal smoke, old whiskey stain sins hiding in the breath of my father, and as my heart was torn from me kickin' and screaming, I came ta learn that it's a lot better, to die while breathing then to live your whole life powerless. “ - Sarvel Humington

“ I was just a weak lil boy in the streets of war, but I met a woman on the edge of mercy's spine, wicked and tall she stood, monsters fangs hidin' 'neath her gums, and she told me I could be a King of the streets, patrollin' the Devil's country with a backbone of gunmetal bones and black blood veins. So, with a crooked lil grin and eyes alit with the death of my innocence, I tipped my hat and said, "Yes ma'm." - Sarvel Humington

“ In this here place, we're all reapers of oneself, strippin' who we are from our veins so we can survive the town Heaven never knew. “ - Sarvel Humington

“ I think people like to shove the kind down because they know that they stand a chance when faced with cruelty.” - Estina Piscator

“ I'm not gonna be ashamed of who I am, I'm not gonna let people say this isn't who I am, because I tried to tell myself that for a long time, but eventually I had to accept myself. I don't need no man in my life, because in truth, I've always wanted a Queen of a princess to come on by with a flowy gown and a cute smile. I'm not afraid to say it, I'm a god damn lesbian, and anyone who has a problem with that can go back into their little hole of ignorance and die shallow and stupid. “ - Estina Piscator

“ My name tastes like revolution smoke and death on my tongue.” - Teresa Vanderboom

“ Somedays I fear God looks at me with scornful and hateful eyes, telling me I should be one with her angels, but I sit here, like a gentle and decaying rose, wondering why my petals stick to me when all I ever was is thorns and a broken stem. “ - Teresa Vanderboom

“ I don't know what the world wants of me, but as I dance with my lover underneath the moon's golden glow, I know that perhaps, to be alive is beautiful for most. But when you live past your death, it becomes something ugly, to breathe. “ - Teresa Vanderboom

“ I look in the mirror only ta see somebody that's not me, the heart of Rupert Vanderboom is still there, but there's a stranger's eyes starin' back at me, and sometimes I wish I was just a coffin, with who I am rotting in the marble material above me. “ - Rupert Vanderboom

“ She once told me that though we look different, there's still something she loves about me dancing fragile in my heart. But sometimes I wonder if my lips feel like a stranger against her skin, or if my fingers curling into hers feels unfamiliar. “ - Rupert Vanderboom

“ They always tell ya you get kicked down, that's life, it's a journey from one tragedy to the next, lookin' for the intervals of peace in-between the chaos and sorrow. But I'm just a tragedy who never found the peace, because throughout this life I've lived I've met many people, all whom are different, but I always stay stagnant, regretful, sorrowed by the years that pass me by. “ - Rupert Vanderboom

"When the world is fallin', mate, we gotta rise.” - Matilda Blight

“ I was just a woman 'a the streets, looking after her two boys, wonderin' why life didn't love me enough ta give me shelter under her wings, and as I clutched at the stars with human fingers and a will ta live breathin' in me heart, I knew that perhaps, life didn't need to love me, for me to love her. “ - Matilda Blight

“ Janette is a beautiful and war torn soul, and I hope that as I hold 'er hand she feels a little less cold, a little more human then she did all those years ago, livin' under the shadow of mercy. I love 'er, ya know, when she first pressed her lips against mine, or our skin collided in tangled sheets and a bed of roses, I knew wot love was, and I knew I'd always wan' it. “ - Matilda Blight

“ I sit in a lake of ice, the crowd gasping at the man who froze, and as I sink into the depths of my rage, I know that perhaps, this beast is all that I can ever be. “ - Maxadon Destodel

“ I'm swinging from this noose of my rage, wondering why it won't snaps and let me breathe for a single second, and as I lose myself to the anger that seethes like death in my veins, I know that all who come to know me must see a beast swimming in my eyes. All except for her. I met her in a pinewood forest, wondering if it was perhaps, Heaven I had found after all my years spent living in a Hell I call earth. She dabbed at my wounds gently, telling me that all would be okay, just listen to the gentle hums of nature, and a strange sense of peace I'd never known washed over me. But as I was ripped from her by ghosts wearing white lab coats and needle prodded gums, I knew that I would never hold peace in my gentle fingers again.” - Maxadon Destodel

“ I'm a guilty man with ghost blood flowin' through his veins.” - The Sheriff

“I'm the reaper of my own heart, sittin' in the essence of death like a question no one should ask, and as I pull back the hammer of this old revolver, I know that death shall come for me one of these days, and I shall stand here, ready to face her as I have so many damn times. Ya see, death comes to you like a mistress, she sits there in a dress of feeble lies, but they look like shimmering truths. She stands like a lovely question you wanna answer, and as she places a finger on your cheek and kisses your scars, infecting them with the decay of vultures and crows, you know that you've died, and you can't do nuthin' to stop it at that point, for you're tangled in death's sheets, wondering why you can't escape the spider's web.” - The Sheriff

“ I pull back my hammer and put a bullet of fatal identities in my skull, death lulling me to sleep with gentle, boney fingers that force who I am to decay. “ - The Sheriff

“ My sister asked me who I am, once, and sadly, I'm just a ghost of who her brother was." - The Sheriff

[moonlightreal]

Fate episode 5

Welcome back to Elemental Academy!  When we left, the three adults had fallen prey to inescapable Plot of being adults in a YA franchise and decided “we must hide the truth and manipulate our students, for their own good.” Words cannot convey how sad this makes me.  The three of them having their moments as competent, experienced residents of a magical world was the neatest thing in this show.  

But first, we just got a backstory bomb courtesy of Beatrix!  Let’s give it a closer look before we dive into episode 5.

So Beatrix’s story is that a peaceful town called Aster Dell was surrounded by Burned Ones and the powers that be decided to nuke the place, sacrificing the humans to take out the Burned Ones.  And that decision was made by our three adults, Miss Dowling, Silva and Harvey, and Rosalind, and Queen Luna.  But Rosalind had an attack of conscience and turned against the others, and managed to save two babies from the town, Bloom and Beatrix.  She left Beatrix with a friend and dumped Bloom in the human world.  The three Alfea adults captured Rosalind and stuck her under the school, and Queen Luna cast an illusion over the ruins of Aster Dell to… erase the event from history in a world where Instagram exists?  How does THAT work?  That was apparently the last stand of the Burned Ones because they all vanished until just now.

It certainly paints our adults in a bad light!  But is it true?  I mean we did hear it from Beatrix!  She not only… is Beatrix… she wasn’t there at the time.  Maybe the Burned Ones had already killed everyone before the town was nuked.  Maybe the adults thought the townsfolk were already dead and nuked the place on bad intel.  Maybe Queen Luna nuked the town and the three teachers were just helping clean up after.  Maybe Luna ordered them to do it, she is QUEEN after all.  Maybe the adults knew that nuking this one town would end the Burned One threat forever and were willing to sacrifice hundreds to save millions.  I mean, there’s not really a GOOD excuse to nuke a town, but there’s better and worse reasons.

Gee, it’d help if we knew what Burned Ones actually were and where they come from!  

...Hang on, how sure are we that Sky’s father is actually dead?  Because he hung out with all these adults and he’s a “he.”  And he’s in a photo therefor there’s an actor to play him.  If he’s the friend who raised Beatrix then B would have grown up knowing only his and Rosalind’s side of the story, not any circumstances that might make the Alfea adults look non-awful.  Then Beatrix wouldn’t even have to be lying.  Of course that raises the question of why Andreas would be raising Beatrix instead of his actual son, a weird parenting choice.  Maybe he just would’ve rather have a daughter!  Sky seems to have turned out all right with Silva as foster-dad.  

So, anybody wanna lay bets?  Is reappearing dead dad more or less likely than a master Burned One hiding in a cave?  (and yes I know most of you have already seen the last episode and are laughing at me trying to guess, and that makes me happy.)

Ok, let’s hit episode 5!

We open at night, some guards stand stoically outside while we torture Beatrix!  She’s shrieking and rolling around with the antimagic cuffs biting into her wrists while Dowling tries to read her mind. Silva expresses worry that they’re hurting the girl and Dowling says, ‘I’m pushing through her mental defenses, it’s painless. This is an act.”  

And it probably is, because Beatrix sits up and starts on, “Nobody will believe you, I have the better story.  Everyone will whisper that you’re torturing poor fragile me.”

Dowling asks questions about where she went with Bloom, why kill Callan, is Bloom in on it with you, do you have anything to do with the Burned Ones… Dowling, you look a little pathetic not knowing all those things!

Beatrix is being creepy as blazes, 10/10 for her actress narrating the rumors that will spread about her own torture.  ‘Her screams echoed through the school… then one day, they stopped.  No one knows what happened to the poor girl, but everyone knows who did it.”  this is marvelously delivered.  I wonder if Beatrix is planning her own death to make it look like Dowling killed her.  How obsessed with her idea of revenge is she?

And Beatrix wins!  Her description drives Dowling from the room and Silva after an uncomfortable look back and forth, follows her out.  The two specialists standing guard continue stoic.  they’re outside the big doors from the last episode, inside is a big cage with a bed and stuff for keeping prisoners in semi-comfort. But the walls are paper thin and apparently this has been going on for a week!  I think B just screamed a lot all week and only now spilled her plans.

Alfea has stone dungeons with thick walls, why aren’t we using one of those?  Or why haven’t the police come take her away to charge her with murder?  Are the Alfea teachers the entire justice system of Solaria?  I think the teachers are going under the table and Beatrix played them.

With a week of torture added, we’re now 3-4 weeks into the school year.

Bloom is outside, hiding behind a car, watching the adults leave the cell. She starts texting when Dane comes up behind her.  He says he knows what she’s doing and Bloom does the most badly-acted little grin when she says she’s not doing anything.  But Dane says he’s on guard duty tomorrow night and he’ll help her get in to talk to Beatrix.

Interesting that it’s Dane and Bloom, not Dane and Riven, or just Riven.  

Opening!

We jump to Bloom and Sky fighting a Burned One in a hedge maze!  But it’s only an illusion training dummy, it turns into one of those big glass gemstones.  

Sky has a little cut on his face and Bloom closes it with magic.  Just cauterizes it I assume, unless she has healing magic and we weren’t told.  Healing is usually under the water or earth element in these sorts of systems.

Bloom: “I just wish they’d tell us how to fight these things.”

Yes, fighting teachers should do that.  Kind of the point of having teachers.  

Everybody else is fighting too!  The fairies seem to have joined the specialists on their mats.  Another girl throws fire, so Bloom’s not the only fire fairy here.  Riven shows off his stick-fighting skill.  Dowling and Silva watch, with Aisha taking notes on a clipboard as Dowling’s new assistant.  Terra shows off her vines grabbing… is that a new adult?  We don’t get a good look but it looks like a man in specialist gear.  Bloom and Sky’s voiceover says, “It’s like they’ve gone full wargames.” and “Well they were soldiers before they were teachers so it’s on-brand for Alfea faculty.”

Harvey arrives in the hedge maze and Sky asks for a hint.  This is the only exercise he and Bloom can’t pass.  

Subtitles (thanks for the suggest, january-summers!) say Harvey’s first name is Ben.  And he’s gonna lay some info on us!  ‘Inside each burned One is a magical core called a cinder, and with time and finesse you can use your magic to destroy it.”  That… seems like a factoid that should’ve been shared in the “all about Burned Ones” lecture that should have happened at the beginning of this martial push?  Just sayin?

He also explains how fairy-and-specialist fighting works.  The fairy must trust her specialist to protect her so that she can “channel controlled magic” without freaking out and lighting the woods on fire when a monster comes at her.  And he must trust her to destroy the thing.  Ok, that makes sense.  That works.  So is it normal for fairies and specialists to team up in pairs?  Is that what they do in the army too?  Were Dowling and Silva one such pair?  Maybe Harvey and his unseen wife were and she’s unseen because she died in the war.  Now I’m imagining Mrs. Harvey was a badass specialist.

Bloom flirtatiously asks if she can trust Sky and he more sensibly asks if he can trust her.  He thinks Bloom was being awfully teachers-pet to Harvey.  Bloom says since the outing with Beatrix everyone’s been watching her like a hawk, wondering if she’s Beatrix’s evil henchwoman.  They joke about Bond villains and Sky has seen several James Bonds.  Then they go back for another try against the illusory Burned One.

But they are being watched!  In fact Bloom is being watched by Sky, who gets a very meaningful look from Silva as he goes past.  Dowling eyeballs Bloom, who smiles innocently back.  The teachers are walking with Aisha and Musa, And Musa is reading Bloom and Sky to see if they’re tired yet.  She does say “I know they know I’m doing it, but it still feels invasive.”  Musa would rather use magic on a real enemy!  But Dowling says mind reading is support magic and that’s just as important.  ‘Your magic can help us assess fragile states of mind or uncover hidden enemies.’

Aisha asks, ‘like Beatrix?” and Musa asks how B is doing and if they found out why she killed Callan.  But Dowling just says, ‘let’s keep focused.” which, I can see why she’s not telling them everything but she is playing right into Beatrix’s hands.

Terra’s getting a drink of water on break between sparring.  A girl specialist with a great hairdo, buns up the back of her head, compliments Terra on her vine restraint move.  Terra says, ‘thanks, it’s all bout the tensile strength of the cellulose.”

Riven comes and sits down by Terra and says, “Tensile strength.  Hot.” Terra, not sure what to make of that either but knowing Riven, pointedly ignores him.  But Riven is having one of his likeable moments and says, ‘She’s right you know.  you’re a force out there.”

Wanna comment on two things.  First, Freddy Thorpe who plays Riven is great.  He keeps making me want to like his objectively awful character.  And he’s a fine lookin’ dude, the grin, the scruffy stubble… I hope he goes far as an actor.  And second, the leather sword vests the specialists wear are really neat.  Swords attach to the back somehow, Riven’s got a couple of potion bottles in pockets—which I hope they’re plastic and empty, glass bottles and fighting do not mix!  And I’m not sure if it’s a vest or a vest and shoulder scabbard and separate belt.  But all the specialists have them, and we know this show doesn’t spend much on props… I wonder if I can find the source?  

Not immediately, it turns out.  Anybody better with renfaire gear know where to get these things?  Or what they’re called?

Polite Terra says, “You too.”  but Riven wasn’t.  He was garbage at fighting.  Terra kindly says, ‘It’s been a weird week.” and “I know you and Beatrix were… close, so it must be really hard.” Terra is sweet.  You can see her kinds thinking it would be kind to say those things even though she’s not keen on Riven.

Dane walks by and says, “Sweet moves Riv, I’ve never seen anybody die so many ways so quickly.  You should go for Alfea’s Got Talent.” heh.

Riven says that was a burn from ‘the first-year monster I created.  Or Beatrix created.”  he says Dane still has a thing for Beatrix… ok HE says “A hard-on for her.  A weird, gay hard-on.  Is he even gay? I don’t know anything anymore.”  and I chuckled because Riven is so delightful when he’s not being a terrible person.  Terra just sits there with that Terra expression like she doesn’t know what to say to that, and now she’s probably worried that by dumping Dane last episode she drove him to the dark side.

Indoors, Sky catches Silva and calls him out on pairing them together so he can spy on Bloom.  Silva says since they’re both strong in their roles nobody questioned it.  But Sky is not feeling great about the whole situation.  The more he talks to Bloom the more convinced he is of her basic innocence, and-- “Stella’s gone, Riven’s a mess, and the person I’m spending the most time with I’m spying on.”

Silva gives him a pep talk, that this matters and it may be lonely but it’s to keep the Otherworld safe.  And this is honor.  Sky hesitates, sighs, then nods and keeps walking.

Silva is drawn back into his memories!  First of being grievously injured and falling down, then I think to another earlier memory recovering after a fight in the forest side by side with Sky’s father.  Who has a serious beard!  Andreas gently mocks his friend for not being tough enough and says Sky might be more useful.  Sky who’s presumable a little kid at the time.  Younger Silva calls him on it, asking when he last even saw his son.  Andreas turns away.

The gang’s all here in flashback, Younger Dowling looks on while Harvey’s dissecting the dead Burned One saying ‘we still have a lot to learn about them.”  Andreas spits on it and Harvey says, ‘Or we could contaminate it.  Ok!”  Heh.  And here comes Rosalind congratulating the four of them on taking it down in under three minutes but saying next time they should shoot for under two.

Back in the present the adults are watching video of the students sparring on a tablet in Dowling’s office.  Dowling is unhappy none of them took down an illusion Burned One, most of them just gave up!  Silva says that’s why they’re in training, they’re not ready yet.

Do these three know about the Burned One Aisha pinned to a tree?  The girls plus Sky have taken out two so far, which isn’t a lot but is more than zero.

Badass Marco comes in and he’s in trouble!  He and his partner whose name turns out to be Noura took out a Burned One near the school—but it wasn’t alone!  Now Marco has been poisoned!  Harvey rushes for the medicine.  Marco says “we were taught that Burned Ones are solitary hunters, but two of them traveling together..?”

Dowling says, ‘It’s rare but it happens.” and I don’t know if that’s true or she’s just saying it to look like she’s on top of the situation.

Silva says they should warn “the Solarians” and Marco says he tried, they’re not answering!  And they pulled their troops from the battalion. Dowling says Queen Luna has been “distant” since she pulled Stella out of school.  Marco says they’re low on manpower and “if the Solarians abandon us we’re in serious trouble.”

But isn’t Alfea IN Solaria?  It was on the globe.  They have separate armies?  Maybe the Solarian army is their actual army and the specialist/fairy pairs trained at Alfea are a separate thing?  Maybe Alfea trains elite magical troubleshooters and the Solarian army is made up of trained mundanes?  But wouldn’t the government of the country want to be in control of all armies in that country so there’s no extra armies rattling around getting into trouble?  And Dowling is Luna’s subject so... How does this WORK, show?

Be nice to know what the ratio of magic users to mundanes in the Otherworld is, too.

Over in the girls’ suite, Aisha pensively braids her hair and Terra happily moves her plants around.  The lights are on and there’s sunlight coming through the curtains but the room is still dark, reminding us we’re supposed to be in a grimdark show.  9_9  Batman could’ve just paid his electric bill, then he wouldn’t have to be the DARK knight… sorry, sorry, I actually like grimdark I just have no patience for literally dark when it makes no sense.

Musa gets texts from  Sam.  Musa and Terra have a cute chat about how Musa’s dating Sam.  terra’s happy about it.  Terra is also moving her hundred plants into Stella’s empty room so it “won’t feel so ghostly in there.”

Terra: “and it’s been a week.  We have to accept she’s not coming back.  No matter how much we wonder how she’s doing, call or text...” and she lists every EARTH social media platform she’s checked Stella on.  Musa asks if she misses Stella and Terra immediately says, “No! She was mean and insulting and left without saying goodbye, which was actually the meanest thing...”  Musa asks if her insults would be a good substitute.  Heh.

Terra made her outfit!  She fishes for a Stellaish insult from Musa by mentioning that.  Wow, Terra, you get cooler every time!  Sewing is hard!  I have trouble with just doll clothes!

A pot falls and breaks in Stella’s empty room.  An omen!

Bloom is watching her phone like a hawk as she pretends to study.  Aisha comes in to offer the, “I know you feel like you can’t trust Dowling, but you can talk to me.  I wouldn’t tell.” but Bloom gets a text that Dane is starting his shift and hops up to go do her own investigation.  On the way out Bloom gets a call from her folks. She doesn’t answer.

Aisha goes to the others, “We need to talk about Bloom.  She’s been single-minded about her birth parents and Rosalind for weeks.  And now it seems like she doesn’t care at all.  Are we meant to believe she’s just over it?  I know she’s keeping something from us.” And the girls put the pieces together!  She was texting Dane, Terra heard that “Dane is still team Beatruix”  

And Dane has knocked out his fellow guard with a sedative!  Boy is that a bad idea!  Bloom gapes.  Dane says, “She’s waiting.” in the most doomful way.

And there’s B sitting on her bed in her dark room, fiddling with the magic cuffs.  they’re like barbed wire and are messing up her wrists.  She greets Bloom with, “Took your sweet time!”  Bloom immediately wants to know if the murder thing is true, and B cops to it.  Callan was also there to break Rosalind out, which we knew and now Bloom does.  B says, ‘bit more complicated than evil beatrix kills hapless assistant.”

Bloom: “Dowling, Silva and Harvey haven’t told me the truth about a lot of things but that doesn’t mean you have.”  Yay Bloom! Skepticism!  But Bloom is determined to find out what really happened and Beatrix knows where Rosalind is.  But only if Bloom gets her out of the cage.  Beatrix says Bloom shouldn’t trust her, the faculty, her friends, anybody but Rosalind.

That’s interestingly hero-worshipy of B.  She’s never MET Rosalind, how does she know Rosalind is a good guy?  Or, y’know, whatever Beatrix thinks of as a good guy.

And Bloom’s along for the ride.  Dane gives her a magic thingamabo she can charge up that’ll get the cuffs off Beatrix and then they can go to town.  On the way out Bloom asks Dane why he’s helping her. Even if they were friends, hello, murder!  Dane says, “She’s the only person here who ever made me feel like being different was a good thing.”  And Bloom says she’s helping because “Beatrix is the only one who’s giving me answers.”

Because the adults are caught in Plot!  And we can see where this Plot is going.  Bloom releases Rosalind, who turns out to be master of the Burned Ones and they attack Alfea.  Great job, teachers, what a dumb Plot you are caught in!

What Dane gave Bloom was another big leatherbound book called Ancient Geometry.  Not usually an evil art, but she hides the book in her bag the next morning.  It looks like she’s awake before Aisha but when she leaves Aisha’s eyes immediately open.  She was pretending to be asleep to spy on Bloom!

More outdoor specialist training.  they’ve got some gear, Riven’s doing that arm exercise where you wave two hoses up and down.  Musa picks up a staff and twirls it expertly.  Riven comes over to flirt. Musa says she used to be a dancer, that’s where she got the moves. And she misses being physical.  Riven I think is venting about something else when he says, “Well too bad.  You’re a fairy, they don’t care what you wanna be in this place only what they want you to be.”  Musa reads his mind and gets all of Riven’s hate for Alfea.  Which, yeah, they locked his girl in a cage.

Also is it even true?  Are fairies not allowed to study martial arts? Martial arts is great for emotional control and confidence which would be great for magical control.  I mean it certainly could be that Alfea forces people into roles, but I haven’t seen evidence.

Then Sam comes by and he and Musa head back to the suite where she jumps on him for a makeout session!  Sam puts the brakes on asking if Musa’s upset about something and yeah, she’s angry that mind fairies are support type, they’re “powerless when things actually go wrong.’

Which… true, since Musa can only receive.  She might be able to know the location of every enemy and ally making her super valuable in battle, but if she could project emotion just for a second, jolt an opponent mid attack… but she can’t.  I see her point.

But we get a character building hint!  “A long time ago, family stuff...”  And that’s all.  She says it’s nothing, that she’s just frustrated, and suggests Sam take advantage of that frustration. Which he is happy to do!  Musa shoves him down on the bed, hops on top and takes her shirt off!  Behind this increasingly steamy scene we see one of Terra’s potted plants revolve… then it crashes to the ground, breaking the pot and the mood.  Sam yelps in surprise.

Sam: “Please don’t judge me on my completely legitimate and masculine fear of ghosts which are legitimately creepy...”  Hah!  I like you, Sam.

So… do ghosts actually exist in the Otherworld or are they just seen a lot but not proven same as in ours?

But the moment is gone and Musa says she should find the girls.  She puts her shirt back on and Sam leaves, both of them happily looking forward to their next chance at sexytimes.

Alone and with her shirt back on, Musa scans the room and detects another person!  

Stella appears!  

Stella’s here!  She snuck back a few days ago, and has been hiding invisibly in her room!  

But before we can hear the details we go to Bloom at the stone circle. She’s got the geometry book and a round metal doohicky that she has to charge up to free Beatrix.  She puts it down and channels magic into it, lighting up some jewels on it.  I can’t immediately identify this thing, it’s too big to be jewelry, palm-sized.  

Sky turns up and Bloom tries to hide the book.  Sky can tell she’s doing it, and he’s tired of all the sneaking.  So he comes out and says that Silva has him spying on Bloom—and that he knows Bloom’s not up to anything.  But it was an order.  Bloom is naturally pretty pissed off!  She says quite sensibly, ‘He used you, used our friendship—but I’m the bad guy right?”

I wonder how much of this is because Bloom’s from Earth.  If she’d grown up in the Otherworld would she be less surprised at specialists following orders?  Would she have heard of the adults’ great deeds in the war and been more inclined to trust them?

Anyway Bloom goes to hide the book again and Sky grabs it.  He asks what the magic thingamabob is and Bloom looks away super-guilty.  Sky: “I’m trying to be on your side here but you’re making it really difficult.”

Which is just how I feel about this show quite often!

Sky says Bloom can trust him, Bloom says she’s not sure she can and starts to tell him about Aster Dell.  

Back in Stella’s room poor Stella is telling Musa about her mother.

And her mother, in hologram form, is in Dowling’s office while Dowling asks why she withdrew her troops, when two Burned Ones have been seen together which hasn’t happened in a long time.  The show cuts back and forth between the two scenes.

...Stella says the army’s all out looking for HER!  That’s why.  But Luna won’t look at Alfea, ‘To do that she’ll have to admit she lost control of something, and that’ll never happen.”

Luna: But you’re training the students to fight.  isn’t that supposed to be what you’re teaching my daughter?”

Stella: ‘Project strength and power.  that’s all she cares about.  And I’m an extension of her strength”

Dowling: ‘Is this some sort of punishment?  For not rehabilitating Stella in the way you wanted?”

Stella: “My magic has to be powerful at any cost.  that’s what she taught me”

Luna pooh-poohs the idea that it’s punishment, “but you might consider updating your methods.  Given the threats we face.”

...Evil queen wants to turn Alfea to the ways of the Sith?  THAT’S the plot we’re going for here?  Ok, solid plot, I guess.  Could be worse. But Luna is a bargain basement evil queen if ever I saw one, she wears suits! And too much foundation!  Where’s the spiky crown and overabundance of eyeshadow?  Maybe they were going for an Umbridge kinda character.

Stella: ‘My mum treated me growing up… when positive emotions didn’t work she went right to the negative.  Hard.”

Dowling: “My methods are effective.  And they don’t cause students to lose control and blind their friends!”

Stella: ‘My magic is erratic because of her.”  And Luna disappears and we get to hear the rest of Stella’s story.  Blinding Ricki was an accident, as we could guess, but Stella would rather be seen as a “raging bitch” than weak.  It was safer with her mom.  Stella does know how messed up this is, and when she got home her mom immediately started abusing her again.  No mention of stella having a dad, but Queen Luna’s clearly the ruling party.

Musa says Stella doesn’t have to hide, all the girls will help her. Stella says, ”Are you kidding?  Do you know how judgmental; they are?”

I think the mind reader would know better than you, Stella!  So there’s Stella’s sad story.  And we don’t have to go to the palace of Solaria to rescue her like I was hoping we would.

From that heavy scene we jump to the cafeteria, where bad-boy music plays as Dane gets his lunch.  he’s smoking a cigarette!  And Terra is literally hiding behind a pillar in her homemade dress waiting for him.  He lights up and Terra pounces!

They talk, Dane says rather sensibly, ‘I do one bad thing and you cut me off” and “Beatrix never made me feel this bad.’ and Terra says also sensibly, ‘but murder.” and Dane tries to flee and Terra vine-grabs his ankle and Dane takes a pull on his cigarette and Aisha water-guns it out and the two of them interrogate him on what he’s up to with Bloom.  Dane has no chance.

Over to Bloom and Sky.  Bloom must’ve finished her story since Sky is telling his while Bloom charges the thingy.  He’s lived at Alfea his entire life, with Silva as his foster father.  Bloom brings up some of the things I thought of, that Silva might be part of a massacre if he believed it was for the greater good.  Bloom doesn’t think the adults are evil but she thinks they’re hiding the truth to protect themselves, too.  Bloom says at least Sky grew up hearing stories of his parents from people who knew them.

It looks cold and Sky offers Bloom his jacket.  And Sky is wearing a bright blue shirt and darker blue jacket, almost like a Red Fountain uniform.  I wonder if that’s a holdover from a stage when this was going to be a Winx show.  But Bloom just summons fire in all the braziers to keep warm.

Sky says, ‘Don’t need anyone do you?” and bloom says he’s “a fixer” and she doesn’t need to be fixed.  Sky talks about his father the “great Andreas” the war hero who he’s heard so many stories about, “It’s almost like he’s still alive.  But he’s not.  he’s an ideal.  Do you have any idea how hard that is to live up to?  Even Silva, it’s like he’s playing some role out of a sense of duty.  When all I really want..” poor Sky.  He says he’s a fixer because he’s broken and everyone is.

Anyway it ends with them kissing.

Then the magic thingy is charged.  Bloom says she does trust Sky, but if she told him he’d stop her.

Then Sky faints!

Bloom doped him with the sedative!  It was in her water bottle that she shared with Sky.  Wow, Bloom, dosing your own water bottle just in case you meet someone?  That is impressively scary thinking ahead!

Bloom is clearly really guilty, but she still leaves Sky facedown on the ground in the circle!  Hope no Burned Ones come along while he’s all passed out!

We go to the greenhouse where Harvey is doctoring Badass Marco who took a hit from a Burned One.  Silva is hanging around and Marco, between grunts of pain, asks if he’s handling the pain better than Silva did.  Harvey says the first Burned One poisoning is always the worst, it’s almost a rite of passage-- which suggests lots of people survive such injuries which is not the vibe we were getting a few episodes ago!

Marco asks about Andreas’ son helping take down the Burned One and if he inherited any of Andreas’ “less ideal qualities?  His bloodlust?”

Ok, I’m callin’ it, dead surprisingly evil dad it is!

Silva just says Sky is his own man.

Marco is hurt but he’s not worried.  He’ll survive weeks or months with the medicine, plenty of time for Noura and the battalion to get the Burned One.  There’s Noura on the phone now!  But… oh no!  Noura is grievously injured and everyone else is dead!  She’s out in the woods hurt and surrounded by lots of Burned Ones!  We see on video call as poor Noura tries to run, goes down, and is taken out.  Her phone lies on the ground sending a video of the trees—and fully half a dozen Burned Ones run past it!

Too bad.  I expected Noura and Marco were for the chop, just because in these sorts of stories the trained adults have to be gotten out of the way so the teenage heroines can shine.  But they were the interesting characters!  They were professionals in a magical world.  I wanted to learn more about them.

Bloom, like an amateur, heads to break Beatrix out but Dane isn’t there. Terra and Aisha are.  Bloom sounds positively paranoid as she says, ‘Everyone here is lying to me!  You don’t know what I know!” but they do, Dane spilled all the beans. Terra sounds about to cry as she says her dad would never do something like that.  Bloom sounds super paranoid as she says to herself, ‘You’re his daughter and you’re Dowling’s little helper, I’m not gonna convince either of you, just like Sky.”

Aisha pushes back; she’s been spying on Dowling!  For Bloom!  And all she’s seen is how hard Dowling’s been trying to keep everyone safe.

Bloom says they lied about Rosalind being alive, lied about a war crime, “i get that you guys want to believe in them but they’re destructive maybe dangerous!”

Terra: “Bloom, listen to yourself, you literally sound like a crazy person.”

Aisha says they haven’t told the adults yet, but if Bloom tries to bust Beatrix out they will.

Bloom faces them like a cornered animal.  Her eyes flame up.  Terra and Aisha back away and Terra almost sobs, ‘We’re your friends, Bloom!”

Bloom stops and thinks.  Friendship music plays.  She gets the magic thingy out of her bag and gives it to Aisha.  But when Aisha starts, ‘I know how hard...” Bloom says, “You don’t.  None of you do.”

...why am I thinking about Higurashi right now?  Maybe because everyone’s spying, nobody’s reaching out to their friends for help… y’all gonna get the bad ending!  Hmmf.  I prefer Oyashiro-sama’s curse over the YA Plot curse we’re laboring under.  Characters I liked already died and as a father figure type Silva is likely next to meet a sticky end.  I’m ANNOYED with this show right now.

And back in the suite Stella is saying she “can’t believe everyone’s listening to Aisha like she knows anything” and that the suite has gone to shit without her.  And Stella’s been pushing plants over whenever she gets annoyed since she doesn’t want to appear.  “I have opinions.  If I can’t express them verbally, I’m not above poltergeisting.”  just like Riven, Stella makes me absolutely hate her one second and then says a line that makes me smile.  I dunno what to do with these two.  Marvelous actors both of them, for playing such two-ways-at-once characters and making it work!

Then Stella gets invisible again and Aisha and Terra come in.  They stopped Bloom but they think she’s losing her marbles.  Which, yep, seems so.  Aisha thinks they kinda need to tell Dowling, even though they said they wouldn’t.  A pot wobbles.  Musa decides to shut that down real quick and just tells the others Stella’s here, so as not to have to clean up any more broken pots!  Heh!

Stella appears.

Stella’s opinion: “Everyone in this suite is so damn black and white.  Bloom is a pain in the ass but she deserves to know who she is, not the stories the faculty is telling her.  We can worry about being right or we can help our friend.  Which is it?”

Friend since when, Stella?  Also, maybe protect your friend from being instrumental in the downfall of the school?

Dowling in her dark office.  She gets a text from Silva: five or six Burned Ones.  “Suit up, we’re going hunting.”

Sad music plays.  Dowling opens up a chest and reveals, I think, the olive colored costume her younger self wore in the flashback.

And in my head an alternate Dowling smiles as her heart picks up speed at the thought of getting back in the saddle.  The opposite of what we see on screen.

Then Bloom storms in, breaking this tragic headmistress moment.  Having lost the magic thingy, bloom goes for the direct approach and demands to see Rosalind.  Poor Dowling doesn’t have time for this, she’s got a Burned One hunt!  But Bloom busts out, “I’m from Aster Dell!  that’s where I was born, that’s where my birth parents lived, until you all destroyed it.”

Good direct approach, Bloom!  Except you only know that from #1 untrustworthy source Beatrix, remember!

Dowling, shocked and horrified, turns away.  It’s true.  But, “You think we did it on purpose?”

Bloom: ‘That’s what Beatrix said.  That Rosalind had a crisis of conscience and you did it anyways.”

Dowling: “Rosalind!  Still manipulating people after all these years.”  

Flashback to the five of them!  Rosalind was the most powerful fairy at Alfea, and Dowling’s mentor.  Feared but respected, never questioned.

We’re up on the high plains, I think the same place we saw Silva being grievously wounded in a flashback before.  Dowling, rosalind and Harvey are up on a high knoll above Aster Dell, too far away to get a good look at what’s happening in the town.

Rosalind taught them to combine their magic, something nobody had known was possible.  They call down lightning and yeah, basically nuke the town.  But!  Rosalind said she made sure the humans were evacuated and only Burned Ones were in there!  They didn’t question their commanding officer, and they didn’t know until they walked into town and saw the bodies.  Past dowling puts her hand to her mouth in horror.

Present Dowling has tears in her eyes.  ‘if Aster Dell is where you’re from… there are no words I can say to make right the damage I’ve caused you.”

But Bloom shakes her head slightly.  “Why would she do that?”

Dowling thinks it’s because Rosalind was a zealot who “Wanted every Burned One dead no matter the cost” and who lied because she knew her team wouldn’t have gone along with it if they knew there were civilians in the town.

Bloom demands, ‘What about me?  Why did she put me in the human world?” But Dowling doesn’t know.  Bloom again demands to see Rosalind, getting up in Dowling’s face.  I feel like Bloom is somewhat enjoying this revenge, being able to back Dowling into a corner and shut her up.

Dowling grabs Bloom’s shoulders and says, “Whatever she has to give you is not worth unleashing her into the world again.” and the thing I wish she’d said a few episodes ago, “I’ll help you get the answers you need.  You have my word.”

...and Bloom believed her and they all worked together and got the good ending!

But bad-ending music plays and Silva comes to get Dowling to come take down the Burned Ones and the look on Bloom’s face is definitely a gonna-get-the-bad-ending look.

In her cage Beatrix whimpers and cries out in pain as she tries to get the cuffs off her wrists.

In the stone circle Sky wakes up from his drugged slumber.

In gorgeous Ireland Bloom sits on a bench pondering her next choices. Musa and Terra come up and give her the magic key.  They don’t want to be more people who are hiding things from Bloom.  Aisha can’t quite get on board with breaking a murderer out, but Musa and Terra are up for it!  And so is Stella, who appears beside the bench. Smiles all round.  I love the bonding, but wish they could maybe be teaming up for something that’s not so obviously a bad idea.  Just because y’all the main characters who won’t die doesn’t mean OTHER characters can’t die!

The real Stella never learned invisibility because why should she want to hide her awesome clothes?  But for this Stella, it’s a pretty handy trick!

The adults are packing their gear for war into the black SUVs and heading out.  The sun is low so it must be evening.  It occurs to me though—I’ve been in England in May, many Mays ago, and it stays light until like nine at night because the UK is super-North.  Maybe the difference in day length is why I keep getting tripped up about what time it is.  

Sky has staggered back into the school where Riven finds him.  Sky is relieved to learn that Beatrix is still locked up, but they have bigger fish to fry.  Looks like the specialists are joining the hunt!

Bloom brings Beatrix the magic key and Beatrix frees herself!

It is definitely-night and definitely cold at the barrier where the three adults with half a dozen other soldiers stand just inside the barrier.  Dowling uses her magic to amplify the sounds of the forest—that’d be air fairy stuff, so Dowling is mind and air at least.  I wonder how usual it is for fairies to learn more than one element.

Sky and the specialists arrive, late, to the sound of snarling Burned Ones.  Aisha’s here too.  Silva says this is no time for extra credit, but Aisha isn’t looking for extra credit, ‘I’m here because you need to know what’s happening.”

In Dowling’s office Beatrix is planning to toss Dane through the trap just like she did with Callan!  

Then Stella appears behind her and shoves HER through!  Ha ha ha!  Beatrix goes down, lips blue, breathing out frost.  It must just be a freezing trap, nonlethal.  Not that I would mind terribly if Beatrix weren’t in season 2; she has some charming moments and Sadie is a top class evil actress, but let’s ditch the slutty villainess trope maybe?

Stella: “Break out the villain to get what Bloom wants, then trap her again.  Simple.  My ideas rock.”

The girls go down the tunnel.  Stella holds a ball of rainbow light above her hand.  

Terra’s feeling troubled about what they’re doing.  she’s always trusted her dad to lead her right, but ‘I don’t know if he’d lead me down here.”

Stella: “Even the best parents are doing what they think is best for us. At some point we have to take over for ourselves.”  Truth, Stella. I’m just questioning if this is the right point or not.  Then Stella plucks a bit of light from her light and sends it to float by Terra.  ‘By the way, that outfit...’   She smiles and Terra smiles back.

Then we jump to Bloom, having a destiny-ridden moment.  “Everything I’ve been looking for is right through that door.”

No Bloom, Rosalind is through that door and how do you know she’s going to tell you any more truth than anybody else?  But through the door she goes.

And there’s the glowy barrier with Rosalind inside.  She opens her eyes and uses mind magic to say, “Hello, Bloom.”

...y’all gonna get the bad ending.

[autisticfangpyreclub]

Gold stained hands, red stained teeth - chapter 1

I finally managed to start writing the vampire au i posted literally a year ago, quarantine does that to ya. Enjoy!

(@kyra-plays sorry it took so long for me to start writing this fic!)

-

“We’re here!”

Kai grunted as he was shaken awake by the car jostling to a halt. He sluggishly sat up in his seat and looked out the window. They were parked in front of a huge iron gate, overgrown with vines and moss. “This is the place?” he slurred, shaking his head to try and wake himself up.

“Yup,” Nya replied. She tossed a crumpled piece of paper onto his lap. “Check it out, I’m gonna go get our tickets.”

She hopped out of the car, and ran over to the ticket booth. Kai yawned, and clicked the light on in the car. The piece of paper had every spot on their haunted building tour written on it, along with a small blurb about each location. He skimmed through the names until he found where they were.

“Castle Garmadon…”

It had been built in the 14th century, allegedly by only two people. A woman and her husband, rumoured by the local townsfolk to both be vampires.

He could believe it when he saw what the castle looked like. It was ginormous, towering over the iron gates surrounding it. The castle sat atop a cliff that overlooked the town below, and it gave the entire countryside a dark and gothic vibe. It looked like something straight out of dracula.

“There you are!”

Kai jumped at the sudden hand on his shoulder, but relaxed when he saw it was only Jay. “Hey, when’d you get here?” Kai asked.

“Just now,” Jay said, gesturing at the blue van that was parked beside Nya’s car. “Zane’s trying to drag Cole out right now, he’s having a bit of a freak out.”

They both turned their heads to see Zane tugging Cole by the arm, trying to pull him off the car door. Cole lost his grip just as Zane gave a hard yank. Kai winced as they both fell backwards onto the concrete ground, that was still wet from the recent shower of rain. “What’s going on with them?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jay crossed his arms and leaned back against the iron gate. “I hear Cole’s got like, a really bad fear of vampires.”

Kai couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “Seriously? Why?”

Jay shrugged. “No clue, think he just watched too many horror movies as a little kid,” he raised an eyebrow and scanned the parking lot, “hey, where’s Nya?”

“Hey Jay!” Nya grinned as she ran over to them. “I got our tickets,” she handed a ticket to Jay, and then one to Kai, “apparently we’re the only visitors they’ve had in months, so we’ve got the whole place to ourselves to explore!”

“Awesome!” Jay pumped his fist in the air. “Free reign to touch anything we feel like!”

“I told you in the van Jay, we must respect this castle,” Zane chided, approaching them with a mopey looking Cole in tow. “Look with your eyes, not your hands.”

“Ugh, fine. You brought the go pro right?”

Zane sighed, then reached into his shoulder bag. He pulled out an awkwardly large camera, and strapped it over his forehead. “I don’t know why you insisted on this head mount.”

“Panoramic shots Zane, panoramic shots!” Jay shot back, “now lean down so I can adjust it.”

Kai chuckled to himself watching Jay attempt to jump to Zane’s level. His focus drifted towards Cole, who’s eyes were darting back and forth between the gate and the castle, while his hands clenched the sleeves of his jacket. He was rocking back and forth on the spot and muttering something ineligible to himself.

“You good Cole?” Kai asked him, reaching a hand out to grab his shoulder.

Cole flinched and snapped out of his nervous rambling. “What? Oh, I’m fine,” he waved his hand nonchalantly, “just… the castle is so big, it was making me a little, uh… unsettled, yeah, that’s all it is…”

Kai didn’t really believe that, but he didn’t want to hassle him. He just gave Cole a pat on the shoulder and left it at that. The five of them showed their tickets to the guard at the gate, and walked into the courtyard.

-

Those piercing red eyes had to be the creepiest thing about the paintings Cole was surrounded by. It was bad enough that the old castle looked like it was going to collapse any moment, or that it reeked of death and mold. Of course, of course it also had to be infested by vampires. Vampires who loved having their portraits painted, apparently.

“I think these ropes kinda ruin it for me,” Kai said while prodding at one of the velvet ropes that formed a barrier around the paintings. “The illusion of walking through a historical castle thing I mean.”

Cole turned around to glare at him. “Are you seriously not creeped out by all… this?”

Kai gave him a quizzical look. “I can’t really see anything creepy about it.” He walked over and slung his arm over Cole's shoulder. “It’s just an old building dude, nothing to be afraid of except like… maybe asbestos.”

“There is no asbestos in this castle Kai, the maintenance staff thoroughly check and upkeep the entire building twice a year,” Zane said. He was taking pictures of everything using the go pro Jay had thoroughly adjusted several times now. Jay himself was admiring the two giant swords affixed to the wall, along with Nya who was taking pictures with her phone.

Cole pushed Kai off him. “I’m not scared, I’m just saying it’s creepy. I mean, why do all these paintings have red eyes?”

“Because their vampires, duh!” Jay yelled over to them. Kai shot him a glare, and he looked away sheepishly. “I mean, that’s the most popular theory…”

Jay yelped as Nya shoved him in the shoulder. “There’s no such thing as vampires, stop trying to scare him Jay,” she said.

Jay winced and shuffled away from her while rubbing his shoulder. “I wasn’t! Just stating the facts!”

“I agree with Nya, there is simply no scientific evidence at all that backs up the existence of vampires, or any supernatural phenomena at all for that matter,” Zane said flatly. “No matter what conspiracy theorists say to try to defend their opinion, nothing can rationalize it,” he looked pointedly at Jay while speaking, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah, we get it science man,” Jay said, “in other words, Cole needs to stop being a baby.”

Cole sputtered. “Shut up! Can we just get this whole haunted building tour over with?” Cole sighed while shaking his head. “I can’t believe you guys forced me into this…”

“Excuse me? We all agreed to do this together!” Jay scoffed at him. He absentmindedly scratched at the peeling wallpaper, then frantically tried to hide a chunk he pulled off in his pocket before Zane could yell at him.

“That was before I found out one of the spots on the list was a vampire infested hellhole!” Cole spat at him.

Kai gave Cole a gentle pat on the back. “It’ll be alright man, if you get scared I’ll just let you hold my hand okay?”

Cole scowled. “I don’t need to…”

A loud creaking sound suddenly echoed through the building. Cole screamed and grasped onto Kai’s hoodie for dear life.

“Uhh…” Kai glanced over at Cole, who was cowering and hiding his face in Kai’s shoulder. “You good man?”

In a realization that nothing was coming to kill him, Cole pulled away from Kai like he’d been burned. Jay was laughing like a maniac in the background, and he even heard Zane chuckle softly. Nya just shook her head and walked past them.

“C'mon guys, we’ve only got about another hour and there’s still way more castle to see,” she said, pulling Jay by the arm who was still laughing so hard he was gasping for breath.

Cole felt his face heating up. He pulled his shirt over his face so that no one could see how red he was. Or how much he was still sweating. “Uh… Kai, I think I might just take you up on that offer…”

-

“Y’know, I hear the electric lights in this place have always been here, because the people who lived here were so old they had knowledge from the golden age about electricity that was lost to time,” Jay remarked, as they passed by a marble bust lit up by a light on the ceiling.

“That’s impossible, electric lighting was unheard of during the 15th century, and people barely lived past their thirties, much less thousands of years,” Zane replied.

“Unless they were vampires…” Jay hummed.

Cole shuddered, and squeezed Kai’s hand. As embarrassing as it was to be holding Kai’s hand like he was a little kid going through a haunted house, it was… comforting. Jay was being the absolute opposite of comforting, he was being a pain in the ass.

“Hey Cole, you cold?” Jay asked with a taunting grin. “You're shivering so much, it’s like you just saw a ghost!” He poked Cole on the cheek, and snickered when he let out a frightened squeak.

Cole grit his teeth, and grasped Kai’s hand tighter. Kai took notice of this, and pulled him in closer. “Shut it Jay, give it up already,” he snapped.

Jay stuck his tongue out and ran ahead of them. The castle was like a maze of hallways, staircases, and small rooms filled with nothing but aged looking statues and paintings. They hadn’t found anything like a kitchen or a bedroom yet, but they had walked through a faintly coppery smelling wine cellar.

“This place is less a house, and more an art museum,” Nya mused, gazing up at the idyllic painting of the night sky above her. “Oh hey, there’s a hole in the wall...”

She pulled out a book that was tucked inside the small crevice in the wall, and flipped it open to a random page. “How to grow the finest lavender… the most efficient way to cultivate your vegetables… slugs, snails, and other wretched fiends found in the garden,” she read aloud, being reminded of the decently kept flower patch they passed in the courtyard. “They must’ve really loved gardening…”

The hallway they were in now was long and narrow, with red carpeted floors and black stone walls covered in scratch marks. The carpet was stained and tattered, and the floorboards sounded like they were screaming when they were stepped on. The hole Nya had discovered wasn’t alone, many more littered the wall and even the floor, Jay having discovered one when he tripped and fell on his face.

“Odd…” Zane hummed, “this hallway seems much less cared for than the rest of the castle…”

“No kidding, this floor is gross…” Nya groaned, stepping over a particularly large dark stain. “And where are the windows? I actually haven’t seen a single one anywhere.”

Jay stopped in front of a painting of a raging ocean, and put a finger to his lips as if in thought. “Maybe… the ones who lived here didn’t want any sunlight getting in,” he said.

“Jay!” Nya yelled at him.

Cole shuddered, and hid his face in his hands. “Oh god, it all makes sense… red eyes, no windows, creepy castle… look, there’s even a glass full of blood in that painting!” he said and pointed towards the painting in question.

Most of the paintings of people in the castle were of the same person, and this one was no exception. He was young looking, and had blonde curls that hung over his eyes and just barely touched his shoulders. He had dark brown skin, and freckles that covered his entire face. He wore a black high collared cape that was fastened by a golden flower-shaped brooch. A green ribbon was tied around his neck. The most striking thing about the boy was his bright red eyes, but despite the unnerving colour they had a gentle look to them. He also did indeed have a glass filled with… something red in his grasp.

“It’s likely wine,” Zane said.

“Or blood!” Cole yelled back at him.

“Or… maybe it’s tomato juice?”

Zane and Cole both gave Kai a blank look. “Seriously? Tomato juice? This isn’t bunnicula we’re talking about Kai,” Cole said, “he’s a REAL vampire, not some kids cartoon.”

“Kai, tomato juice had not yet been invented at the time this painting was done, and Cole, I’m telling you vampires are most certainly not real, please calm yourself,” Zane said, irritation seeping into his tone.

“But why the red eyes then huh? Explain that!” Cole slapped a hand onto the painting, eliciting a gasp from Zane.

“Cole!” he yelled, “that painting is centuries old, it’s a priceless piece of history-“

“In my personal opinion,” Jay cut in, stepping in between them and leaning on the rope, “I think the whole legend is legit.”

Zane glared at him. “Jay, don’t start this again-“

“Seriously, this family lives in this huge mysterious spooky castle, no one ever sees them go out during the day, they barely interact with anyone, and then some guy with a silver sword-“

“Wait, why is the fact that it’s silver important?” Kai asked.

“Because vampires are weak to silver Kai, keep up!”

“I thought that was werewolves?”

“Well uh… uh… they're both weak to it alright?!” Jay stuttered, “anyways… he has a silver sword, and he kills the whole family, AND he cuts their heads off and sticks a wooden stake in all their hearts… why?”

“Because he was an asshole?” Nya helpfully supplied.

“Because they were vampires!” Cole yelled, “and they got what was coming to them, thank god…”

“Exactly,” Jay said.

Zane rubbed his temples, and let out a pained sigh. “You two make my brain hurt sometimes.”

“Hey, if you guys are done can we please just keep going?” Kai groaned. They ignored him, and only started arguing louder. He clapped his hands over his ears to block them out, and turned to Nya and nudged her. “Hey, you wanna just go on ahead?” he asked.

Her face scrunched up as she mulled it over. “I’m tempted but…” she glanced over at Zane who was physically restraining Jay from touching the painting, and shook her head. “Someone needs to keep them in check.”

“Fair enough… you mind if I…?”

“Go for it.”

Kai quietly snuck away from the scene of Jay loudly pointing out all the obvious vampire clues in the painting while in the clutches of Zane’s arms, and walked deeper into the mysterious darkness of the castle.

-

The many twisting and turning narrow hallways eventually led Kai to a small, dusty room. It was completely empty. “Aw man, dead end…”

He walked into the room anyways, his eyes drawn to the swirling flower patterns on the green walls, a contrast to the pure black walls of the hallway he came in from. The ceiling was also unusually low, not low enough that he had to duck, but low enough that he could feel his hair brush against it.

“Kai!”

Kai turned around to see Cole running towards him, Jay, Zane and Nya tailing behind him. He came to a screeching halt in front of the door, gasping for breath. “Kai, why the hell did you wander off?!”

“Because you were all held up arguing, I got bored. Wait, were you worried I got like, murdered or something?” Kai asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cole’s cheeks flushed. “No, you just get lost really easily, so I thought-“

“He was totally scared you got murdered, that’s why he was running,” Jay said, “hey, what’s going on in here?”

Jay pushed past a fuming Cole, and walked over to the back wall. “Huh, this is weird… ooh! I bet there’s a switch in here for a secret passage!”

He started pressing his hands into random spots on the wall, musing aloud to himself as he did it. “Not here… not there… guys, come in here and help me look for it!”

“Jay, that sounds dum- ow!” Cole banged his head against the low ceiling. He dropped to the floor, and tried to rub the swelling pain away. “Why is this entire castle built so bad?!” he groaned.

“Ah, the tough life of a mountain sized man,” Kai laughed.

Cole brushed the dust off his pants as he stood back up. “Well, better than being as short as Jay I guess.”

“I HEARD THAT!”

“Let’s just not spend too much time here alright? I’m starting to feel claustrophobic…” Cole said, trying to avoid touching the rotting wood on the doorframe as he shuffled out of the room.

Zane ducked his head as he entered. He gazed around curiously before joining Jay by the back wall. “I doubt there’s a secret passage, but there is something fascinating about this wall.”

“What is it?” Nya asked as she walked in, closing the door behind her. She laid a hand against the wall, but pulled away at the icy cold feeling against her palm. “Yeesh, must have been fun to live here during the winter. Not.”

“Yes, I noticed the temperature as well, but that’s not what I mean,” Zane pointed to a tiny spot on the wall. “Look at this.”

She leaned in to see what he was looking at, but all she could see were squiggly golden lines. “Uh… what exactly I am supposed to be looking at?”

“What’re we looking at?” Kai said as he leaned in over Nya’s shoulder.

“We’re looking at a line of writing in an ancient language, native to Ninjago, spoken by only a handful of people in modern times,” Zane replied, zooming the go pro in to get a better shot. “And lucky for us, I know this language… don’t take that ancient languages class Zane, they said, you’ll never have any use for it, they said-“

“So uh, what does it say?” Jay asked, having given up on searching for a secret passageway.

“Huh? Oh, right…” Zane wiped the dust away from the lettering, and cleared his throat. “It says, ‘reveal my sanctuary’, but then again, I could be-“

Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, a bright green light began emitting from the wall. All four of them drew back in alarm, Kai tripping over himself and landing on the floor.

“Wha- Zane?! What’d you do?!” Jay yelled, backing up until he bumped against the doorframe.

Zane didn’t answer, his mouth agape as he stumbled back from the light. The door creaked open, and Cole popped his head in. “Hey, what’re you guys yelling about- WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The light suddenly vanished, and in its place was a golden door. The room was silent as they all stared at it. Jay coughed.

“So… who’s gonna go open it?” he asked, still keeping himself as far away from the door as possible.

“None of us!” Cole shouted. “Who knows what’s behind there?” He shakily crept back into the room, and hid behind Zane. “I mean, what if there’s dead bodies that have been rotting in there forever… or worse?”

Zane nodded, and gave Cole a gentle pat on the head. “I agree with Cole, I think it’d be best to ask a facility member about this.”

“And miss the chance to go somewhere we’re not supposed to be without anyone knowing?” said Kai, who without anyone noticing already had his hand on the doorknob.

“NO KAI DON’T-“

He ignored Cole, and slammed open the door. He flipped on the light switch, and was greeted with a colourful sight. This new room was very spacious, and anything but empty.

Shelves covered in glass figurines and ornate jewelry boxes lined the walls, and a giant display case bursting with dolls and plush toys stood against the far wall beside a cabinet filled with wine glasses and bottles. There was a half open wooden wardrobe with gold flowers painted on it, with many lacy and sparkling dresses and capes hanging inside. Green flowing drapes hung from the ceiling, framing a large portrait of the blonde haired boy with two others, a dark-haired solemn looking man, and a woman with red hair and a soft smile.

Kai’s mouth dropped as he stared at the beautiful decor in wonder. It was like being in the room of a disney princess. Well, aside from the coffin that was laying in the center of the room.

“Wait, what?” Kai did a double take. A… coffin. It honestly looked more like a bed with the drapes hanging over it, but it was undeniably a coffin the more he stared at it. “Woah…”

“What’s woah?” Jay peeked over his shoulder, then gasped sharply. “I can’t believe it! I was right! Hey Zane, come in here!”

All of them huddled around the coffin, except for Cole who stayed in the doorway. “Oh my god… is… that a-“

“Coffin? Yup,” Nya said, running a hand along the golden patterns on the coffin's lid. “This is so creepy…”

Cole felt like he was going to throw up. “This is so bad… this is so bad you guys- KAI!!”

Kai flinched and dropped the lid of the coffin. “What? I just wanted a peek.”

Zane’s eyes were wide with amazement. “This is incredible… we may be the first ones to discover this historical treasure… although I do agree that we shouldn’t open it,” he added, “not because of vampires, but because there is likely a decomposing body inside.”

“Gross…” Nya gagged, and stepped back to take a photo from a safer distance from the dead body.

“You seriously still don’t believe me?!” Jay shouted, while violently gesturing to the coffin. “This is all the proof you need!”

Zane narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Hardly. This doesn’t indicate anything other than the fact that this room served as a crypt of some sort, probably for a beloved family member.”

“It’s obviously a vampires bedroom!” Jay retorted. “Probably the blonde guys, since the other two were a married couple so they’d have a two person coffin-“

Nya snorted. “A two person coffin? Those don’t exist.”

“Well I for one think it’s a great product pitch!”

Kai wandered behind the coffin and gazed up at the portrait. The family seemed to really love getting their picture painted. They’d probably lose their minds if they were around when cameras were invented.

He really couldn’t see anything scary about the family though. The blonde kid especially, he just looked like a normal teenager, who just happened to have red eyes. There were plenty of normal human beings who had red eyes.

“I’m just saying there’s no way you can prove that vampires aren’t real.”

“False, I can prove it quite easily with-“

“Guys, give it a rest!” Nya groaned in exasperation. “Look, why don’t we just open the coffin for a minute so we can find out once and for all which one of you is right.”

Zane and Jay looked at each other, then both nodded in agreement. “Sure, why not?” Jay shrugged.

“While I hate disturbing such a beautiful artifact, or any possible remains inside, if it can end this tiresome discussion I agree it is the best course of action,” Zane said.

“Great!” Kai cheered, throwing his arms up, “I’ll open it-“

“NO! NO NO NO ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Cole shrieked as he barreled into the room and blocked Kai’s path. “Do you all wanna have a vampire suck the blood from you like a human juice box? BECAUSE THIS IS HOW THAT HAPPENS!”

“Cole, chill! It’ll be fine! If there was a vampire inside there, don’t you think they would have tried to kill us by now?” Kai asked, gripping onto Cole’s shoulders to try and keep him steady.

Cole glanced down and bit his lip. “Well… it’s daytime, so they might be sleeping-“

“No offense Cole, but you just did a whole lot of screaming,” Nya pointed out. “I think they’d be awake by now.”

“That’s… true… okay, fine,” Cole relented, “you can open it, but before you do…”

He walked over to a small wooden footstool that was laying on its side, and broke a leg off it. Zane let out a strangled cry. “How many times do I have to tell you people, this castle is a piece of history that IS NOT TO BE DISTURBED!”

“This thing is going to protect us,” Cole said while swinging the wooden piece around like it was a sword, “from something far more dangerous if disturbed.”

Zane rolled his eyes and backed away to give Kai room to pry open the coffin. He slid the lid off, and shoved it onto the floor. A choked gasp came from his lips when he saw what lay inside. He stumbled backwards, and was just narrowly caught by Cole before he fell over.

Cole felt his entire body shaking as he looked from the coffin to the also shaking Kai in his arms. “What?! What is it?!”

“It’s… it’s a…”

Jay finished his sentence for him. “HOLY SHIT, it’s a guy!”

Cole dropped Kai ungracefully onto the floor. “WHAT?!” He gripped his makeshift wooden stake tighter as he peered into the coffin.

The boy from the paintings was lying inside the coffin. His hair was a tangled mess, and he had a wooden stake lodged in his chest, but it was definitely him.

The room was dead silent, until Jay loudly cleared his throat. “Well Cole, somebody beat you to it…”

Cole fell to his knees, his stake clattering onto the floor. “Oh god… oh my god… thank god he’s already dead-“ Cole was hyperventilating, “thank god, oh god-“

“Hey, you wanna say sorry for dropping me anytime soon?” Kai asked dryly from where he was still lying on the floor. “No? We too focused on the dead guy?”

“Kai, this is serious!” Nya snapped at him.

Zane also fell to his knees, but for a much different reason. His quivering hands carefully pulled the boy’s shirt up to check his injuries.

“This poor boy died recently…”, he whispered, “several fresh cuts and stab wounds… he’s so cold…”

“Don’t touch him!” Cole yelped.

Zane gave him an icy glare. “Cole, please, put aside your superstition for one moment and grasp the reality of this situation!”

“What’re those stains on his shirt?” Nya asked, pointing to the red and gold splotches on the white blouse he was wearing.

“The red I’m assuming is blood,” Zane replied, “but those gold spots… paint maybe? I’m not sure…” he gently brushed the boy’s hair out of his eyes, his heart aching when he saw the bruises covering his face. “Who could do something like this…”

Cole was about to say something before he received a nasty look from Nya, so he shut his mouth and clenched his fists instead.

Kai cautiously prodded at the stake lodged into the boy's chest. “Yikes, that looks like it hurt… hmm,” without thinking about it very much, Kai grabbed onto the stake and yanked it out of the body. Immediately a river of sparkling golden liquid poured out of the wound.

Cole fainted. Kai dropped the stake and grabbed onto him before he hit the floor. “Dude, snap out of it! Don’t bail on us yet!”

Cole’s eyes fluttered. “Vampire… stake… really bad…” he mumbled, drifting between being awake and being unconscious.

“He’s lost it,” Jay said flatly.

Kai lifted Cole down and laid him onto the floor, then looked down at him with a smirk. “By the way, that’s how you put someone gently onto the floor.”

“Shut up… I’m sorry…” was the last thing Cole said before completely passing out.

“Great, Cole’s blacked out, we just found a dead guy and Kai got his fingerprints on the murder weapon which means he’s totally going to be implicated…” Jay stopped mid rant and hummed thoughtfully to himself, “unless we don’t report this to the police-“

“Jay! How could you even suggest that?!” Zane yelled in shock, “he has a family!”

Jay sputtered, but then bowed his head in shame. “Your right, that was shitty thing to say… but… if he is a-“

“If the word vampire leaves your mouth at any time during the foreseeable future, I’m going to stab YOU with a wooden stake,” Nya said coldly, glaring daggers at Jay whilst already dialing 911 on her phone.

“Wait, just, hold it one minute,” Jay stuttered, “how are we supposed to explain this to the police? Hey we found a body in this old tourist attraction that barely gets any visitors anymore, actually according to the lady at the ticket booth we’re the only ones who have gone in here in like months! But there’s totally nothing suspicious about that guys, no way, haha, we’re just a bunch of innocent college students amiright? Oh god we are fu-“

“OW!”

“What is it now Kai?!”

Kai clutched his hand and hissed in pain. “I tried picking up the stake again, but I got a giant ass splinter! Look!”

He waved his hand in Jay’s face. “See? It’s huge! It’s like a whole twig is stuck in there!”

Jay batted his hand away. “Then pull it out, genius.”

Kai grimaced. “Uhhh… I’d rather not…”

Zane grabbed Kai’s uninjured hand and pulled him over to him. He sat Kai down on the rim of the coffin. “Sit still, I’ll pull it out.”

Sitting still was unfortunately not one of Kai’s strengths. He squirmed as Zane tried to pull the sliver of wood from his palm, accidentally kicking him in the knee when the pain flared up. “Ack! Sorry, it just… stings a lot- OW!”

“It hurts because you're moving around, please try not to kick me again… almost got it… got it!”

“AGGH!”

Kai quickly pulled his hand away as a drop of blood trickled down his palm. It dripped from his hand onto the boy's lips, slipping through the tiny part in his mouth.

And then the boy’s eyes opened.

-

Blood. Need blood. Thirsty. Thirsty, I’m so thirsty… need blood, blood, blood…

Lloyd gasped as air flooded back into his lungs, and his cheeks were filled with intense warmth. He breathed in slowly, and almost started crying at how good it felt to finally breathe again. He was alive. He was alive… but he was so thirsty.

Blood. Blood, I need blood now.

His stomach was aching with hunger. He felt like he was about to die again.

No, can’t die again. Blood, blood… I smell blood…

His vision was blurry from his burning hunger. Shadowy figures were leaning over him. He could hear them yelling at each other, he had no idea what they were saying. Their blood smelled delicious. He felt an urge to bite tingling in his jaw, in his fangs.

Blood, delicious blood…

His fangs… they were back. He remembered something from before dying. He could remember them pulling out his fangs… ripping out his treasured fangs, stealing them… as a prize from the hunt. They stuck silver blades into him when he struggled, blades that burned through his flesh and scraped against his bones. And then… and then they…

“Kid, can you hear us-“

He managed to use the little strength he had left to focus his vision, and was met with the sight of four humans looming over him. Lloyd screamed, and frantically tried to push himself away from them. “Leave me alone! Please!”

He tumbled out of his coffin, landing on the floor with a thud. His sharp nails scraped against the floorboards as he tried to get up and run away. It was no use. He fell back onto the floor in exhaustion, and curled up into a tight ball.

“Please, I’ll give you anything you want,” he sobbed, “just please stop hurting me!”

“None of us are going to hurt you kid, we promise,” he heard one of them say.

Lloyd nervously moved his arm aside to see who was speaking to him. The man who had spoken had tall pointed hair, and was dressed in a red… robe of some kind. He didn’t look like a hunter, but he also didn’t look like anyone Lloyd had ever seen. He took a shaky breath. “Who… who are you?”

The man kneeled down in front of him. “I’m Kai. You?”

Lloyd sniffled, and wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. “Ll… Lloyd…”

“Hey Lloyd, nice to meet you. Here,” the man reached into his robe, and pulled out a small cloth. He handed it to Lloyd, who cautiously accepted it. Holding it in his hand, he realized it was a handkerchief. For him…

At that moment the dam behind his eyes burst, and the tears seemed to endlessly flow out of him. To be treated with such a simple kindness broke him after what he had endured. The overwhelming situation and the aching thirst still inside him was clouding his senses and leaving him vulnerable. Much too vulnerable.

Bite him… drink his blood…

“You poor thing,” another one of the humans, this one taller than all the others, crouched down beside Kai. “My name is Zane, what happened?”

“I… I… It was… they…” Lloyd could barely remember what happened. He didn’t want to remember what happened. All that he could recall was running, and feeling the agonizing sensation in his chest, and then darkness…

“Endless darkness…” he mumbled. It was still inside him. Gnawing away at him.

Blood, blood I need blood I need it NOW-

He hissed, startling the humans who lunged away from him. Lloyd slapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Did you see that?!” the short human in the blue shirt cried out, “he has fangs!”

Oh god, now they knew. They must’ve thought he was human like them, but now they knew he wasn’t. They were going to hurt him, they were going to kill him, no… no, god please…

“Hey, hey hey it’s okay…”

Kai softly shushed him and wiped away a tear that had fallen down his cheek with the handkerchief. “Your safe now Lloyd, no one is going to hurt you anymore,” he soothed.

“You… you mean… you don’t hate me?” Lloyd asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even though I’m… a vampire?”

“Dude, I fucking knew it!” the short human shouted. “Take that Zane-“

“Jay, so not the time,” the only human who hadn’t spoken yet said. She had long black hair, and her sleeveless shirt showed off her built arm muscles. She out of all the humans was the most intimidating.

“Of course we don’t hate you dear,” Zane said, “but when you say vampire… do you really mean…?”

Bite someone now, drink their blood. Do it. Do it NOW.

“Stay with us kid, it’s going to be okay,” Kai placed a hand on Lloyd’s shoulder, but jerked away when Lloyd shuddered. “Sorry, I should’ve-“

He could barely even force himself to speak at this point. Kai’s hand was so warm, and his neck was so close…

BITE HIM DRINK HIS BLOOD DO IT NOW-

His thirst was only getting worse with each passing moment. Pushing away his intrusive thoughts was becoming excruciating, and it was showing on his face as sweat dripped down his temples.

“Please don’t come any closer,” Lloyd begged, covering his face with his hands. “I’m not safe to be around right now…”

Kai backed away, but his gentle expression didn’t waver. “We’re not going to leave you like this, your obviously hurt really bad.”

Bad was an understatement. The gouge in Lloyd’s chest had only partially healed, and blood was still oozing out of the wounds left by the silver knife. If he could get even the tiniest bit of blood…

Jay coughed. “Uh, Kai, if the six hundred year old vampire says he’s going to go crazy, then maybe we should-“

“SIX HUNDRED?!” Lloyd gasped, clutching his chest in shock. There was no way he had seriously been dead for that long. “Oh god… I’ve missed so many… oh god…”

“Uh, well… I mean I might’ve miscalculated the exact amo-“ Jay clamped his mouth shut as he shrunk under the glares from every other human in the room.

Six hundred years… but then that meant… that meant… they were dead. The ones who had done this to him were dead. It felt horrible, celebrating that someone was dead. But…

Kai seemed to catch onto what he was thinking. “The people who did this to you are long gone, lucky for them,” Kai clenched his fist into a tight ball, “because I would’ve made them feel ten times more pain…” he growled.

“And then I would’ve made them feel twenty times that, and ground their asses into the dirt,” the black-haired woman added, her eyes lit up with intensity.

“And I would’ve… uh,” Zane stumbled, “defended you the best I could, because no one should ever have to suffer such horrible abuse.”

Despite the pain, Lloyd could feel a warm sensation filling his chest. These people, whom he had only just met, were treating him with kindness he wasn’t accustomed to from those outside of his family. Perhaps… vampires weren’t as hated now, in this new time period. What a lovely time it must be.

Jay, who was still trying to avoid anyone else’s eyes, found himself staring at the glass cabinet behind the coffin. It was filled with bottles of ‘red wine’, a.k.a, probably blood. He pried it open, and took a bottle out. It was cold, and caked in layers of dust. “Hey uh, this isn’t… human blood, right Lloyd?”

Lloyd’s eyes locked onto the bottle in Jay’s hands. His pupils dilated. “Give me that… please.”

Jay gulped. “Uh, sure…” not wanting to get too close, he tentatively rolled the bottle over to Lloyd, who snatched it up faster than he could blink.

The cork was thrown heedlessly aside. The blood inside the bottle was ancient and spoiled, but Lloyd savoured every last drop. He only stopped once to take a gasp of air, chugging the sweet red elixir until the bottle was completely dry.

He sighed with relief as the ravenous voices in his head quieted. Almost immediately, his wounds began healing. The bruises on his skin disappeared, and the gouges and cuts in his flesh vanished without a trace. His full senses returned to him, his eyes grew sharper and his ears twitched as he took in every bit of sound around him.

Kai helped him to his feet. “I’m guessing you're feeling a bit better now?” he asked, taking in Lloyd’s now completely healthy looking appearance.

Lloyd grinned, fangs on full display. “I’m feeling wonderful now, thank you.”

“Woah!” Jay ran over and leaned in close to Lloyd’s face. “Those are so cool!”

“My… fangs? Really?”

Jay bounced up and down on the spot, barely able to contain his excitement. “Totally! Sorry about how I acted earlier, I was just surprised, but this is so awesome! You're a real vampire!”

“O-Oh…” Lloyd blushed, and looked down at his feet. “Thank you-“

“I have so many questions! Okay, one, do you burn in the sun, or is it just like irritating? Oh, and is the garlic thing real? No wait, when you turn into a bat where do your clothes go- hey!” Jay grunted as the dark-haired woman pushed him aside.

“Don’t mind him, he’s always like this about everything,” she said, “I’m Nya by the way, it’s nice to meet you.”

Jay ran over to Zane, and pulled a notebook and pencil out from his shoulder bag. He ducked under Nya’s arm and sat down on the rim of the coffin. “Okay, as I was saying-“

“Sunlight burns us, but we don’t burst into flames or anything, garlic makes my tongue swell up, and…” Lloyd pondered the last question for a moment, “y’know, I’ve never actually thought about that… I assumed they just disappeared… then reappeared.”

Jay paused his furious scribbling of notes. “What? But how does that work?”

Lloyd shrugged. “Don’t ask me! Wait, let me show you something…”

He stretched out his arm, and smiled as a green flicker of light danced across the palm of his hand. For a moment he had feared his powers hadn’t returned yet, but the sparkling flicker growing into an orb of bright light in his hand assured him otherwise.

Jay, as well as Nya, Zane and Kai watched, mesmerized. Lloyd shaped the orb into a diamond, then into a flower, and then in a burst of light dissolved it into a shower of tiny sparkles that floated through the air.

“This… doesn’t make any sense,” Zane said, gazing up at the ceiling that was now lit up with hundreds of star-like lights.

“Does it have to?” Nya replied, smiling as a light landed on her nose. She sneezed, and it drifted until it landed on her finger. “This is so beautiful…”

Lloyd spun around the room, letting out more bursts of sparkles each time the lights dimmed out. He abruptly came to a stop behind the coffin. “Why… is there a sleeping man here?”

They all looked at each other. “Shit, I forgot Cole was still passed out,” Kai said, rushing over to go shake Cole awake. “Cole! Wake up buddy!”

“Hnnngh… huh?” Cole blinked wearily. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes. “Whuhhappened?”

Kai swallowed stiffly. “Don’t freak out, but-“

Lloyd blew a tiny sparkle to Cole. “Greetings sleepy human!” he giggled.

Cole’s face turned pale as he caught sight of Lloyd’s fangs. ”Y… You… your a… vamp-“

“Yes, I am a vampire!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!”

[nitholites]

(this is just me ranting about a lack of an au, ignore if ya wanna)

Where are the Miraculous Ladybug/ Persona 5 fics??

Do people just... Not find inspiration from this crossover? Think there's nothing to do? Have no thoughts on the possibilities?

I, generally, am a petty person. I like seeing karma take the reigns, and I like seeing horrible people get what they deserve (probably why I like persona 5 so much, tbh). And if I had half as much creative genius as the writers on this site, I'd do it myself.

But just imagine...

The Thieves reign for, like, two years

Bcause cops can't catch em, Shido ain't gonna get promoted for a while (or decides to lay low a bit for whatever reason), and Akechi hasn't made the connection yet.

Or, after their first 2 Paris Palaces, they go on like in Canon with Parisian teammates, and the Palace they do before Sae's is Hawkmoth, with Akechi joining them because "this can't take long- Hawkmoth needs to be brought down ASAP and we should be strong enough now"

Poor Akechi's like "????? THE PARIS TERRORIST???? HOW THE HELL-"

"Later, Akechi, but your Almighty attacks are gonna help a lot while we figure out the Shadow's weaknesses"

Then it's Sae's Palace and things go as in canon

Anyway, the Thieves meet The Class on the Hawaii trip

Sees how this sweet, kind, compassionate girl's treated by people around her

They're furious

It brings up horrible memories of their own pasts and beginnings

So they form/join the Mari Protection Squad (MPS for short)

And it's ridiculous how fast the group bonds, and how fast The Class realizes not to mess with Mari with the Thieves (and Shujin kids in general) around

The other high schoolers join cuz with the crap from Kamoshida, they've all grown a backbone

Plus the Thieves are on their side here (now all they gotta do is send a request on the Phan-site... Maybe the Thieves can do something about the Parisian)

(Tikki feels the Thieves' power- and is wary. She'd never felt something like this before- humans wielding the power of their other selves so efficiently)

And Lila, feeling the spotlight slip, makes one grave error...

Showing her true colors to the leader of the Phantom Thieves

But the Thieves know going international isn't something they wanna do- it'll cause a ton of trouble

But when Mari video calls one night and shows the Nav- they realize

Either they take action, or Mari's gonna be sucked into the Metaverse randomly (like Kasumi)

Better take her with them and explain in a controlled setting than get her killed in someone's heart

And, surprise surprise, Lila has a Palace

Like, the distortion is on par with Shido's (which the Thieves will encounter eventually)

Any place she'd been before was part of her cognitive empire

When'd she visit Japan???

And Futaba digs up some major dirt on Lila

Driving victims (who's situations eerily match Mari's) to suicide, forcing victims from the county on major charges, assault, thievery, arson- you name it she's either done it or made everyone believe her victim did

Why hadn't anyone pulled the truth from her yet? The short answer- Yaldaboath

The oversized cup finds her acts entertaining

So they gotta take her treasure now

And Mari, newly realizing she deserves better and beginning to increase her self-esteem, awakens to a Persona

(I dunno who, but having a character have Filibus as a Persona sounds kinda cool)

So she joins the Thieves in Mementos to train and get stronger

And once the Thieves take Rossi's heart, their popularity skyrockets, so they go deeper and deeper into Mementos

Because now, it's like, "Oh shite, these Japanese urban legends targeted a minor are they working with Hawkmoth??"

Cuz when Lila confesses, you bet your sweet bippy there's gonna be a Hero's Day pt 2

And the Thieves come with help from Kaalki because Chat hasn't been a partner in years and Ladybug alone with Kobra can't take them on

Morgana tails Catalyst (Akumatized Natalie) to the Agreste Manor and finds out Hawkmoth's identity

But Adrien catches him

So we get Spy!Morgana, stuck with the Agrestes until the change of heart at the latest

And Mona slips into Gabriel's Palace to scope it out and

Holy hecc, those are tough Shadows (think like in Maruki's Palace) and why is this woman everywhere???

It's a Roman temple, with statues of the same woman everywhere

Like why

And the puzzles are so confusing he can't explore the whole thing

And he eventually makes it back to the Thieves- specifically Mari who freaks when he randomly shows up

Cuz everyone's been looking high and low

And the news he brings isn't happy at all

So their next target can't be Hawkmoth, but they set it as their goal (their second-to-last heist)

In the meantime, Caline Bustier's Palace needs raiding

This woman Shouldn't Be In Charge™, Period.

Her Palace is at the school, and it looks like her definition of 'paradise'- a garden maze

Her childhood friends, co-workers, students- everyone's chilling and getting along

At least while her Shadow is watching

Wherever she isn't, the cognitive beings are at war

It's bright with rainbows and glitter, and it's nauseously obvious Bustier chooses to ignore the world around her to keep the illusion alive

The kicker is, when the Thieves first enter, they see a giant 'painting', constantly shifting and moving to match what happens in the Palace

It's sickening- her poor students

Her Shadow doesn't put up a fight, instead expressing how 'dissappointed' she is in them, how the Thieves need to 'set an example', how they're 'disrupting everyone with this silly rebellion'

They waste no time in taking her Treasure

Adrien's Palace is Agreste Manor as a prison decorated as a mansion

A maze where Shadow Adrien constantly attempts escape, so there's thousands of secret passegeways, rooms, and supplies

The windows, when looked through, show what he thinks the world is like- no war, starvation, illness, sadness.

But, when broken, they show the truth in a million fragments, only to be repaired the next time Adrien's Shadow passes by them

It's a good way to keep tabs on the Shadow

A black blur, who talks and interacts with the world at a minimum, joins the Thieves, explaining what some of the more hidden images mean

At this point, the Thieves know who Ladybug and Chat Noir are, and they're doing all they can to help

Then Okumera happens and Haru joins the group

It's bittersweet, but Haru's more than determined enough to continue being a Thief

Things go on in canon until the time the Thieves would have been in Sae's Palace

She's still a target, but they have a much more pressing deadline

Hawkmoth's been upping the stakes, the difficulty, and the number of Akuma. Paris is in real danger, and they need to stop him

Plus, it'd be hard to pin it all on him without a confession, because Gabriel is an international business

(possible Akechi redemption, as he changes sides after spending longer with the Thieves and seeing the good they can do first-hand)

Might make more later, depending on how this does

[tae-cup]

.hamartia. ‘Part 4,

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (f) x Taehyung (?)

Genre: Mafia!Au, Fluff, Angst (Mostly angst oopsies) I DO NOT CONDONE BEHAVIOR DISPLAYED IN THIS, PLEASE IT’S FICTION AND DON’T DO STUPID THINGS THANK YOU

Plot: Y/N is a skilled, well, torturer, though you don’t like to call yourself that; it makes what you do too real. When mafia boss Yoongi wants information or wants a hostage to suffer, you step in. However, one fateful day you are thrown Taehyung, another person who does your line of work. You need answers, he is determined not to give them to you. That’s when you try...a different approach, and Yoongi is not pleased.

Rating: TV-MA

WARNINGS: YO IF YOU’RE NOT COOL WITH SUBTLE BI AGENDAS THEN I’M SORRY THIS IS NOT THE PLACE FOR YOU, Blood, torture, mafia things (ya know?), drugs alcohol, sadistic tendencies, a fundamentally flawed main character (I’m sorry i’m just writing myself pretty much), assault, harassment, stalking (not bad), romance (somehow), Maybe stockholm syndrome???

Word Count: 2.1K words

A/N: I’m sorry there’s not a lot of Taehyung here, but there will be in the next chapter >:) I’m also really like to think that House of Memories by Panic! At The Disco is the theme song for this series. 

Other:

Masterlist

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Next

guilt

~ guilt is an affective state in which one experiences conflict at having done something that one believes one should not have done (or conversely, having not done something one believes one should have done).

-

-

“Is that all?” Yoongi raised a questioning eyebrow.

It had been a solid two weeks since Taehyung was moved to better treatment. Two weeks and you had yet to learn much about him. He didn’t speak to you when you came to talk to him, he rarely responded. You deduced he either had balls of steel or was terrified out his mind. You chose the former considering his serious disposition. Even if he wasn’t in this situation, you suspected he would be a rather serious man.

“Yes.” You paused. “Well, I found out his favorite color is gray.”

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t on purpose. He didn’t tell me, but you know me, Yoongi,” You glanced to meet his eyes for the first time this whole meeting. “You know I’m an observer. I see the smallest twitch of relaxation when there’s a gray colored item. Of course, he’s a smart man...” You trailed off. Taehyung could be deceiving you to believe one way.

“And what have you done with this information?” The pale man didn’t seem amused.

“I’ve taken away anything gray.” That also meant you had to change up your wardrobe, which was annoying. Gray was a go to color of yours. In the morning, you had to ignore a third of your wardrobe. You were still using a subtle torture. Depraving him of certain colors and shapes was a softer way to approach this. You had seen excellent results in the past with this method, but it was often a slow burn.

Yoongi nodded his head slowly, seemingly thinking deeply. He didn’t return your gaze and instead looked toward the ceiling.

“Interesting.”

There was a long pause. You really had nothing else to report. Taehyung woke up at 3 A.M. in the freaking morning everyday, if you could even call that morning. He managed to wake up before you. And with your absolutely fucked sleep schedule, he was almost making your life hell. wait a minute.

“Can I be dismissed?” You quickly said, already starting to stand up.

“You’ve figured something out, haven’t you?” He finally met your eyes. You had this spark, a sudden realization. You just nodded, trying to get out as soon as possible. You had a lot to discuss with Jimin.

“Fine, you’re dismissed.” Usually he wouldn’t allow such an outburst, but it was you. He had vowed never to yell at you again after what happened.

-

-

You found the silver haired man relaxing on a bench outside of one of the torture rooms. “Jimin.” You grabbed his arm hurriedly and hoisted him up to follow you before he could even say hi. He fell into step with you and panted after his rude awakening.

“What? Did something happ-”

“Jimin, Taehyung has been toying with us.” You almost shouted. Then you looked around the hallway, seeing it to be clear, and then lowered your voice.

“What do you mean.” Jimin hissed. He may be soft for the mafia, but he did not enjoy being fooled with.

“Taehyung has been making our lives miserable. He observed us, learned our patterns, and knew how to use them against us. We may be the ones in power, but Taehyung has managed to weasel his way in.” You paused to take a breath. Jimin stood, mouth agape.

“So...So he knew about...”

“He knew you’re soft. He knows I wake up at 5 A.M. so he pushed it further. He’s depriving us of sleep and humanity.” You bit your lip, thinking. What has he been doing? He just sits there, he doesn’t try to escape. He doesn’t talk, but he gives you just enough information. How did he learn to read people so well? It’s impossible for him to know everything about us from just us going in and out of that room...The color drained of your face as you thought of another possibility. No, it can’t be- Jimin pulled you out of your thoughts, saying the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

“He’s a distraction.”

-

-

“You’re not a monster, but you’re not the woman I fell in love with.” Yoongi stood stiff. He was always so blunt.

“Might I remind you,” You seethed, hands gripping the back of the seat tightly, your knuckles turning white. “You made me this way.”

He looked away, almost ashamed. “You wanted a job here, you didn’t want to feel like dead weight. I gave you a job.”

You scoffed, “Don’t blame this on me, Yoongi.”

“Fine.” He crossed his arms, leaning casually against the window sill. The office felt so dark, a tense fog filling the room. “The position was open and I saw you as just another worker who could fill it. I could have promoted Jimin, but I gave you respect and prestige.”

“You gave me hell.” You would get to his other insults in a moment, but you needed to think. You were so enraged you could barely breathe. You were so distraught you tears springing to your eyes. But you refused to let him see you cry. You bit back the lump in your throat, swallowing thickly. A moments pause and the room felt like a tinderbox ready to catch fire. All that was needed was the matchstick to light everything ablaze.

You feared setting the room ablaze, but then you looked at his eyes, cold and merciless. And you decided, this room feels stuffy anyway, it would look prettier ablaze. You took a deep breath.

“Funny, that you can speak of prestige and respect when everyone is just terrified of you. There’s no respect in sight, just fear.” You stated plainly. “And I don’t fear you, but I sure as hell will never respect you after this. We’re over, Yoongi.” You knew you had wounded him sufficiently. You grabbed your bag, deciding that the ashes falling around you weren’t salvageable, and stormed out of the room. The office door slammed shut and you swore you would never step foot in there again.

But yet again, you lied to yourself. Again and again you said it would be the last time you saw him, that you’d leave and escape this world, but every time you drove out of town, you turned back around. You were utterly helpless, stuck. If only this was some sick love story where he would run after you. You wanted him to, but if those ashes meant anything, it meant death. Death of your love. And Yoongi would never run to you. After all...you were just another member of his illusive gang.

-

-

So here you were, breaking your own promises time and time again. You paced, unable to stop. It had been long since you felt pain looking at him, but you still felt your heart twinge to hear his voice.

“Listen, I’m telling you, Yoongi, this is a trap. He’s stalling, he’s being a distraction. Have you even heard from the other gangs in weeks?”

The slight twitch in his lips told you that he hadn’t. He carefully placed his whiskey down.

“That’s a big accusation. We are on good terms with most gangs in the area. It’s normal not to hear from them for a while.”

“No, no, you don’t understand. There’s been nothing. No crime, no new headlines.”

That got him a little more worried.

“What would their reasons be? We haven’t done anything terrible.”

“We’ve stolen land, cheated deals, killed their men. They fear us, but they’ve only just realized that with all of them combined, they can outnumber us.” You stopped pacing, almost panting from the adrenaline flowing through your veins. You felt like you were on some strange kind of high.

Yoongi was staring at you. Slowly, slowly, he stood. He went around his desk and leaned on the other side.

“I see what you mean. I’ll send Mark and Jungkook out to check on the other gangs tomorrow. We’ll prepare for an invasion, heighten security. If they get suspicious, we’ll just say it’s better to be on the safe side.” Yoongi said. Then he looked at you expectantly, as if he thought you would argue.

This would be a time to have the upper hand on Taehyung and his supposed plan. You couldn’t show all your cards of let him know you knew.

“We can’t be 100% sure.” You said quickly, trying to manage expectations.

“Funny, coming from someone who was so certain a few moments ago.”

There it was again. That tension hung in the air. Funny. That’s how you had started it ages ago. It felt exactly like it was a few months ago.

“You should get more sunlight, Yoongi, you look too pale.” You said offhandedly, trying to ease the tension.

“I could say the same to you. You prefer the prisoners underground to the members above ground.” He fired back.

“At least they can’t argue with me.” Your lips pricked up into a small smile.

Yoongi studied you, licking his lips. Then he smiled as well. The playful banter reminded you of when you were together. The memories were painted blue now; a symbol of what once was. He seemed to be thinking the same.

“Dismissed.” He said quietly. You simple nodded and left, softly shutting the door behind you.

-

-

Your steps are light. You could be an assassin with how well you had learned your way around this house. You knew every creaky floorboard and every squeaky door handle. For once, you didn’t feel like going back down to the artificial lighting of the basement rooms. Perhaps I’ll follow what Yoongi said. You then frowned thinking of the smug grin he would have on his face if you ever said that out loud.

He was right in some aspect. You hadn’t spent much time outside in the past few weeks. You mostly split your time between your room, the basement, and the surveillance room.

You spotted a tall man at the end of the hallway. He was on the phone and you didn’t really want to run into him anyway. Kim Namjoon was an excellent snake for the Bangtan Mafia. You just didn’t want to interact with the snake. He really was a good charmer and he knew how to say the right things at the right time. In fact, you would have enlisted his help with Taehyung if he hadn’t been so busy. Sadly, this snake was also standing right near your door, as if he had been waiting for you.

You wanted to slip by him unnoticed, but you should have known it would take a little more than that to slip past the silver tongue of Bangtan.

“Ah, I’ve got to go.” You heard him speaking. “My deepest apologies.” he spoke before hanging up. You never trusted that man.

“Hello, Kim.” You simply nodded, trying to get past quickly.

“Oh, no need for the formalities. We’re all a family here.” The corners of his lips tilted upwards in an almost smile, not quite enough to show the dimples in his cheeks. He used to be a friend, never close, but you had burned that bridge a while ago as well.

“Right...Namjoon.” You corrected yourself. You managed to get by when his hand shot out and grasped your arm.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” He quirked his head to the side. You had to stop yourself from glancing at the door across from your room. Inside was Taehyung. You wonder if he could hear you.

“I just have business to attend to.” You said vaguely.

“A little birdy told me we have a guest.”

You paused, hands suddenly sweating. You kept a straight face, not daring to move.

“Does that birdy have pale skin and wear suits when it’s entirely unnecessary?” You raised an eyebrow. Namjoon laughed, obviously over exaggerated. To an ordinary person, it would feel genuine.

“Perhaps.” He wouldn’t let his cards show.

“I really have to-”

“I heard he’s been..difficult. I could speak to him if you’d like help.”

“That’s really not necessary. I have it handled.” You ripped your arm away from his grasp.

“He’s in there, right?” He tilted his head towards the door across from yours.

“How did you know?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Just a hunch.” The prick then slid to the side and let you pass. “A pleasure to speak to you again, Y/N.”

When he was gone, you huffed and opened your room door. Annoying prick.

-

-

asflksajglsghs;agj thanks for reading! Part 5 soon- and I have big plans. I hope the lack of taehyung isn’t too disappointing here :(

Alrighty see y’all next chapter!

Previous | Next

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 59

There were three communities that didn’t need much rebuilding and one that needed extensive rehab. And I wasn’t very welcome in any of them. How would I know this? Because, ALL of the population of ALL three were at Hilltop in the beginning, at some point on another. And while Daryl had promised that I wouldn’t be subjected to the abuse of their collective feelings of disappointment and irritation with me, and I’m downplaying it trust me, he couldn’t be with me twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Not that he didn’t try his damnedest.

I spent my days getting used to my bow again. Soon, my Simon target was fully beheaded, and I had to grin as I made a new one. Sometimes I took Judith with me, sitting her on a blanket at my feet, telling her stories about Carl as I notched arrow after arrow and kept an eye on any danger that might try to sneak up on us, walker or human. She was walking now, and I would take her hand in mine, fold the blanket and sling my bow over my shoulder as we took our time getting back to the rest of the world.

She came with me to visit Negan on most days, even once he’d been removed to a more secure spot. I’d sit by him as she toddled around and I hoped he found some measure of peace from our time with him. On the visits that we were alone, he’d touch me more often. Taking my hand and kissing the knuckles, or leaning in to smell the side of my neck. I knew, once we returned to Alexandria, that he’d be the first real visitor to Morgan’s cell and he wouldn’t be able to get as close to me as he did in Hilltop, so I savored it as much as he did.

We knew it wouldn’t last. The quiet, the ease of our visits, but we also knew that we both found comfort in them. Negan’s lips brushing my neck, my fingers linked with his, such simple signs of affection, yet we knew what they brought to each of us. Pain. Whispered threats. And the dirty looks. When I was alone with him, I could care less about what was being said or who was shooting those damn looks my way. And then I’d leave, and the strength of his presence was gone, and I’d have to walk with my chin up and back straight as though I could give a shit.

I did though. It hurt me to know that people I barely knew thought so little of me. It hurt worse to know that the people who did know me, and quite well, seemed to share those same thoughts. Unlike my brush with falling apart from those days before meeting Negan, however, I didn’t fight feeling it. I was wide open and I owned my emotions. I cried when I felt like crying, and as Daryl and my family were learning quickly, when I was pissed they knew it now.

“Damn it, Dad,” I was glaring at him as we sat together discussing what came next. He wanted Daryl, and me clearly, to head to the Sanctuary and get it back on track. “You promised.” Not just visits with Negan, but damn it, I just got back to seeing Judith every damn day. “How the hell is this supposed to work? Plus, don’t you need all fucking hands on deck at Alexandria? You said that it was a mess that needed rebuilding.”

I knew that Daryl’s eyes were on me. I also knew that Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Carol, and Ezekiel were watching me intently. Too fucking bad.

“Jessi,” Dad was using his patient parent voice and I nearly growled at him. “Honey, you know the place better than anyone here.” I shook my head. “You do, I can’t put one of the former Saviors in charge, not yet.”

“I barely left-” I stopped, feeling Daryl tense. Shit. “I wasn’t really given much free reign, Dad.” Not until I was ready to run away from him, I added in my head. I sighed. “I don’t know his people, I don’t know what they fucking did there.”

Daryl’s arms wrapped around me, trying to calm me down. “Jessi,” his face was practically buried in my hair. “We can go and get an idea of what needs done. We’ll visit Alexandria as much as ya want, I swear.” I wanted to fight free, but I knew that he was trying to compromise. Trying to make me see that fighting against it wouldn’t help my cause at all. And so I relaxed into his touch and sighed again.

“Fine.” I agreed, looking up at Dad with hard eyes. “What are we expected to do?”

What we were expected to do, I learned quickly, was determine who was trustworthy and how to tame those who would undoubtedly fight back. Daryl and I were supposed to take stock of the Sanctuary and learn not just what it used to be, but what it COULD become now. And so, with me at his side, dealing with the reports and people that Daryl didn’t have the patience to contend with, we started to reteach Negan’s people how things had to be from here on out.

Corn ethanol fuel, that was the plan for the Sanctuary. No one seemed to want to hear that we didn’t have nearly enough fertile ground for crops. And Eugene as a constant presence wasn’t exactly welcome for me either. Dad tried, during my trips to Alexandria, to remind me that Eugene was intelligent and he had helped win the war. Sure, thought, but you keep forgetting that I care for Negan and that smart asshole could have killed him with that backfiring gun. And, there was that memory of why I ran away from Negan, the fear that another Eugene would come and as his newest girl, I’d be expected to entertain him.

I helped where I could. Learning that the majority of Negan’s people were go with the flow types. They transferred their loyalty strangely easily, and I had to hold back an absolutely hysterical laugh when they tried to kneel for Daryl and then Dad. Once they were told those types of displays were no longer necessary, most of them fell in line quickly. There were hiccups. People not feeling safe when Daryl insisted the walker security line be killed for good. People fighting against the more open, no points, system of being fed and clothed. These were easily squashed, mostly. Daryl’s biggest issue was his discomfort in leading this way.

Nights were spent explaining that he had to understand it from their point of view. They’d been here, some of them at least from what they’d told me, for years. Negan had kept them safe. He’d given them jobs and security. Learning that he was gone AND that all the rules and ways they’d learned to live were different wasn’t an easy thing to get used to. Daryl would counter with the ones that had easily changed, and I’d point out that most were Negan’s true soldiers, the ones that were leaders because they could sense the change in tides. When you’re looking at grunts, or even the lower totem Saviors, you’re looking at people who want stability, change is hard.

I fell back into mediating easily. It was natural for me. As was hunting, which Daryl and I did regularly. Mostly for his sanity, because being trapped behind the walls of a huge brick building was never going to suit him easily. I rested easily in knowing that Daryl, and not me, would eventually be asking Dad for a reassignment. He hated it here as much as I did, even if I was growing used to navigating through the people’s issues and finding solutions to the rising problems.

So we’d hunt. Sometimes just to get away, and other times as we left to visit Alexandria. Daryl never let me go alone. I tried to tell myself it was because he wanted to check in with Dad. I tried to convince myself that he wanted to keep me safe, even if I was more than capable of it myself, or that he wanted to see the progress in rebuilding our former home. I even tried, as he and I sat with Judith and watched her paint and listened as she told ME a story, that he wanted to visit with her. But, I could feel his eyes on me as I walked to the cell that held Negan, and all those illusions I’d try to build in my mind for his presence here with me would fade and I knew. He was here to make sure I didn’t release him, that I didn’t stay behind with him, that Negan never got to know me as intimately as he already did again.

It took around eighteen months to rebuild and for us to all be back in the flow of things. The Sanctuary wasn’t in perfect order. Not even close, but it was better. As long as no one wanted to stay in any of the rooms that held the broken windows. Windows that were gone thanks to gunfire from a war that never had to be. The crops, still not nearly enough, were growing, but for how long? And the corn ethanol was being produced as it could be.

Alexandria was almost better than it had been. Wind mills, flowing water, and rebuilt homes along with crops of their own and a new hope filled the air. I didn’t check on Hilltop or the Kingdom personally, but regular reports and updates came in over the radios or in person. We were getting back to normal, or most of us were.

Daryl was chafing under the strain of leadership and having to walk the same path that Negan had walked. He begged me, more than once, not to remind him of whose apartment we lived in. Not to mention that I’d slept in the bed, that I’d made love in the bed, with anyone other than him. He chafed at the reminders of Negan, and I chafed at the absence of him. This wasn’t right. Not the building, not Daryl’s body on those sheets in this bed. Nothing was right, even if the flow of life continued, everything felt wrong.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

Right back at ya, same-ask-buddy!! *does a pew pew pew sound* If Runaan escaped and made it back to the Silvergrove first, how would Callum and Rayla’s trio have gone down?

Hmmmm, a good question! I’d always pictured Runaan heading straight for Rayla. But what if he didn’t? Maybe… maybe Gren busts him out and he does go galloping after Rayla–on Gren’s horse, hair flying, in a shirt borrowed from Gren-- “no you keep it, I insist!”, but he loses her at the docks, stows away on another ship, and ends up arriving in Xadia ahead of her.

Okay this got ridiculously long and entertaining, so thank you very much!

Runaan’s lotus would never have sunk, and Ethari would have been overjoyed to see him return, even in his injured and bedraggled state. And they’d both be frantic over Rayla.

I have a headcanon that the six lotuses make that pinging noise not only to indicate life, but so the elves who were bespelled can actually locate each other, exactly like Rayla did on the castle battlements. She ran out there, paused, there was a ping, and then she said, “You’re here, I know you are.” and there was another ping when Runaan yelled from inside the coin but let’s not think about how he was trying to reach out to Rayla nope

So I’d imagine that Runaan would pack his and Ethari’s mounts with gear and go back for Rayla and Callum (and, he assumes, Ezran). Maybe time for a fresh shirt, absolutely time for a couple new swords from his hubby’s wall, but no time for hair brushing, that mane’s gonna be wild and messy this whole ride. He’d find her back across the Moonstone Path.after Callum connected to the Sky arcanum, after he used dark magic. Both of those things would land hard on Runaan. And so would seeing baby Zym!

Rayla would absolutely stand between Callum and Runaan with her swords out. “I can do this all day,” she’d sass him. “But I’ve got a mission. I’ll ask you one last time, Runaan. Please, help me. But if you won’t, then please stay out of my way.”

And Runaan gets softly distracted by the way Zym is clinging to Callum in worry. Runaan the assassin is scaring the Dragon Prince. So he puts his swords down. “Very well, Rayla. I’ll escort you to the Queen of the Dragons.” A longsuffering sigh. “And the human. And then he’s going back across the border.”

Rayla’s feeling protective, though. “Let’s let Zubeia decide that.”

Another sigh. “That’s fair. Now come. We have a long journey ahead.”

Rayla sees he still has one binding on, and she asks Zym if he can help Runaan the way he helped her. Runaan is shocked when Rayla holds the Dragon Prince up to the white binding, and the little dragon pulls it free with his baby teeth. “There is more than one way to release, Runaan,” she says kindly.

And Runaan takes a moment to be totally thrown off his game. This is not the hard, cold world he’s used to. But he buries his confusion and thanks Zym for his help. I bet he smiles, too, and bows, and Zym licks his nose, startling him and making Rayla laugh.

So Runaan rides his Moonstrider–perfectly and with exquisite control–while Callum sits behind Rayla–way behind Rayla, trying not to touch her at all–on the Shadowpaw. Zym perches anywhere he can on the Shadowpaw or its riders. He doesn’t ride behind Runaan.

Callum’s got to be struggling with the dichotomy of who Runaan is. He knows Runaan killed Harrow. But here he is being softer, off his mission.

The border is another unpleasant surprise: Callum’s use of dark magic means that Sol Regem won’t let him pass. Runaan’s willing to let Callum live and return home, but Rayla insists that the quest will mean so much more if Callum’s a part of it when they reach Zubeia. Runaan quietly disagrees, but Rayla says she’s not leaving him, so Runaan can once again get out of her way or help.

Runaan’s not used to this kind of leadership-level defiance from her. But her plan is sound, so he offers to help, to make sure it goes smoothly. Naturally, he ends up dancing across Sol Regem’s crown to throw off the sunbirds and their alarm cries, and distract the dragon at some critical point. Once they’re safe on the other side, though, he insists on bath time for the stinky human. Sits on a rock overlooking the little pool where Callum’s washing off. Doesn’t make the slightest attempt at conversation.Does manage to chuckle wryly at Callum’s suggestion that Runaan should go guard Rayla at her own pool, as if she needed Runaan’s help to stay safe.

Back at the Silvergrove, Runaan and Rayla dance to open the village illusion, while Callum has to stay to the side with Zym and watch. It took Rayla a whole day to convince Runaan to let Callum into the Silvergrove at all, and Callum tipped the argument by offering to go blindfolded the rest of the way. Runaan tied his scarf over his eyes and let Rayla make sure he didn’t fall off the Shadowpaw and die or anything.

The Silvergrove is still in a bit of uproar over the assassins’ deaths, and seeing a human in the village doesn’t calm things down. Runaan is put in the position of having to glare them into silence, defending Callum, and that makes him grumpier. But Rayla’s so happy! She’s home, and she gets to show it to Callum.

They all get Moonberry Surprise, and Ethari gets to explain what he knows about the Dragon Queen dying, and to take care of his family and see to their needs. He can’t stop touching Runaan, to prove to himself that he’s okay, back home safe. And he keeps hugging Rayla. Runaan won’t thank Callum for saving Rayla with dark magic. But Ethari does thank him for looking out for her the whole way here.

There is no “two blankets or just one” here. Runaan balks at the idea of letting Callum inside at all but Ethari tsks at him and says he’ll take care of it. He makes Callum a nice toasty hammock that hangs near the forge and keeps him toasty warm.

Runaan is in a much better mood the next morning. Ethari put in a lot of effort to relax and encourage him, because he knew what Runaan was going to do next: take Rayla and Callum and Zym to the Storm Spire. And he does. He seems a little baffled that he cares this much, but he’s doing it for Rayla, and Ethari insists it’s the right thing to do, and that he’s the perfect elf to make sure they get there safely.

All packed up, they head out the next morning. Runaan’s his usual stoic self, leading the way. And Ethari has given him his own pendant to wear. Callum is bursting with questions as he rides behind Rayla, and she answers him with her usual teasing sass. Hearing her voice, how easily she converses with the human, both soothes and worries Runaan. Knowing he’s got his arm back thanks to Zym is giving him a lot to think about, too. He’s basically using this part of the trip to process his feels, just like Rayla did in canon.

Ethari still shoots his lighthawk arrow, and Nyx intercepts it. But Ethari, tricky elf, doesn’t mention Runaan in his note, so Nyx doesn’t expect an assassin to be guarding the kids she’s come to mislead and rob. She smartens up at the tip of his blade, while Rayla elbows Callum and winks as if to say “Watch this.”

Negotiations ensue and an accord is swiftly reached, in which Nyx will lead them across the Midnight Desert, and if she doesn’t try anything clever, she’ll be rewarded on the far side. She agrees readily, and they set out. Runaan stays up all night at the oasis, so Nyx never tries to steal Zym. 

Rayla and Callum still have a midnight chat, but it doesn’t start with her tears. She has both her dads and she was never ghosted. What’s weighing on her heart is whether she can live up to Runaan’s expectations now that she’s let him down once. She’s afraid he’s going to disown her or something. That he thinks she needs shepherding across Xadia like she can’t get there herself. She feels like he’s treating her like a child.

Callum sees something else. But he’s not comfortable talking about it because it paints Runaan in a much kinder light than he’s used to. He sees a stabby dad trying to make up for dragging Rayla onto a terrible mission, by helping her with her own, by trying to ensure that it goes well. He sees Runaan being protective and very very lowkey apologetic. But he’s not ready to allow Runaan to have that side yet. He ends up talking about Harrow for a couple of hours, and Rayla listens. 

Runaan has to choose between keeping an eye on Nyx and keeping an eye on Rayla. He chooses Nyx. So he misses the part where Rayla kisses Callum and then glances over worriedly to see if Runaan was watching.

Runaan’s pretty exhausted the next sunrise as the ambler carries them across the desert, and the moment he’s out, Rayla and Callum grin and look at each other like they’re about to kiss again. And Nyx takes Zym and makes a beeline for the far side of the desert. Callum and Rayla yell after her. Runaan wakes and grabs his bow. His arrow finds Nyx’s wing before Zym can zap her. She still tumbles into the sand, and Runaan’s not interested in picking her up again. He’s woken up very grumpy. But while Zym returns to Callum, Rayla goes after Nyx and rescues her. Runaan isn’t really on board with her plan, but he does pot shot soulfang serpents from the ambler’s saddle to give Rayla enough room to reach Nyx safely and bring her back. Callum’s too worried about Rayla to really think about how easily Runaan can kill stuff.

Callum totally does his “Because she’s Rayla” speech right in front of Runaan. He’s just as flabbergasted as she is, because he knows just as well as Rayla what open feelings mean among Moonshadows. He doesn’t expect Callum to know that, but he knows Rayla knows. And she’s letting Callum keep talking.

“Rayla.” They both jump when he calls her name. But he just wants to talk. So, like the Moonshadow warriors they are, they climb way up the ambler’s neck, leaving Callum behind, and talk. Rayla shows Runaan how she sees Callum: brave, warm, a team player, skilled with primal magic, willing to do foolhardy things for the right reasons. And then she spins that, not onto herself, but onto Ethari and Runaan both. It’s her “I like him because he’s like you” speech. Runaan doesn’t see a single iota of Callum in himself. But he does see some of Ethari. And that gives him a lot of pause. He needs some time to think, so he tries to buy it by saying, “Don’t trust him yet.”

Rayla just sasses back, “Oh, it’s way too late for that, Runaan. He’s saved my life four times already.”

They cross the desert and Nyx cheekily demands her reward. Runaan gives her a raised eyebrow of judgment. “You said if I led you across the desert and didn’t try anything clever,” she says, “I’d be rewarded. And,” she adds, holding out her hand for payment, “I think we can all agree that I wasn’t very clever just then.” She tosses a sassy wink in with her grin.

Runaan just stares at her. Then he pulls one of his arrows from its quiver, snaps it in half, and hands it to her. “No one will buy that from you, so don’t try.”

“What’s it good for, then? A busted arrow.”

“A broken Moonshadow assassin arrow means your justice will come later. Try to live long enough to appreciate it.”

The group travels to the Storm Spire, and Ezran and Phoe-Phoe find them there. Runaan hangs back from Ezran, but he’s very distracted by Phoe-Phoe’s tranformation and her feather. He wants to ask Rayla about the Moon Nexus, but now isn’t the time. And this all happens in Avizandum’s shadow, making everyone feel very uncomfortable. Callum says his speech about how the statue makes him feel, and he says it loudly enough for Runaan to hear on purpose. Rayla holds his hand and stands with him. Runaan eyes Avizandum, then he looks back at the kids. He never intended to get this soft, but it’s Callum who’s letting him. It’s getting harder not to respect the young prince, because he does have so many traits that Runaan admires about his husband. But there’s a heavy shadow that lies between them, and it can’t ever be lifted.

Runaan takes the mounts up the Spire behind the kids. Ezran and Callum revive them with Ventus Spiralis. Runaan looks at Callum speculatively–he could’ve just let him suffocate. Callum just says, “We’ll need everyone together on this.” Because yes, it’s one thing to return to the Dragon Queen with an elf and a human bearing Zym safely. It’s another to return in the company of the assassin sent out to take Harrow.

But Zubeia isn’t awake, and soon Ibis sees the human army is coming. He flies off for help, and Runaan and Rayla find themselves where Lain and Tiadrin were, in the egg chamber. And then Runaan tells her what he saw in Viren’s coins. “Lain and Tiadrin didn’t run, Rayla. Viren took them, and he still has them. We were wrong.”

Callum defends the base of the Spire, and Runaan, surprisingly, joins him, leaving Rayla to stand where her parents stood. He just offers Callum a tolerant look when he steps out beside him, arrow nocked on his bowstring.

“Fighting to protect who you love?” Callum asks quietly.

Runaan pauses. “Always.”

Callum sketches a Fulminis rune. “Same here.”

And they fight side by side. Runaan keeps Callum safe. Callum keeps Runaan safe. It doesn’t resolve much. But it’s a start in the direction of forgiveness and trust. 

And then after the battle, Ezran tells them that Viren’s sneaked up top after Zym. Runaan and Callum dash up the stairs, with Runaan pulling Callum by his coat half the way.

They reach the top in time to see Viren toss Rayla back, her swords flying. Runaan pushes Callum toward Rayla. “Stop her. He’s mine.”

Callum gasps as he sees Rayla gathering herself for a run at Viren. He leaps after her, spurred by desperate love, and tackles her into his arms on the steps of the Pinnacle. “Rayla,stop, you’ll die, you can’t! Don’t leave me. I need you.”

The words tumble out, but a shadow flickers past them, and they both look up in time to see Runaan tackle Viren off the cliff.

“No!” Rayla and Callum both yell. They scramble up, pick up a frightened and hurt Zym, and stare down into the clouds. 

“I can save him, I can save him,” Callum’s mumbling. “I can do the wing spell, I know I can.”

“Look!” Rayla points down into the clouds. Something’s circling. Then a dark red shape bursts up into the setting sunlight, spirals, and lands back on the Pinnacle beside them. Runaan lets the shadowhawk spell dissipate and holds up the pendant chain, now empty of its moon opal. 

“Love really does give you wings,��� he says. He rests a hand on each of their shoulders, sees Viren’s fallen relic staff. “You’re the mage, Callum. You should look after that staff. Perhaps we can find a good use for it.”

And with one hand, he holds up a little pouch that he pickpocketed from Viren on the way down and jingles it. “Right, Rayla?”

[mrsunderhill678]

Hehe, more writing

“Not all darkness equates to tragedy, just look at the night sky. Despite it's darkness, it's still beautiful, and isn't it the same with us?" - Romena Sunfritz

“That's all war is. A twisted blood sport for the powerful to watch, is that all we fucking are, huh? A God damn spectacle? There's thousands dead on either side, soil so stained with blood it ain't ever washing clean of that crimson, but you claim this is for a good cause? To hell with that, to hell with the country, to hell with you, and to hell with me. Damn, us, all.” - William Phoenix

“The world is quiet but even violence goes by softly spoken.” - William Phoenix 

“I was eluded by the dark, wrought with passion and addiction, I danced within the illusion of love, lost within a resplendent delusion. And oh, now, here I stand, my heart aggrandized by the dark, swindled into the illusion that this is my purpose, my destiny.” - Alden Delafontaine

“Am I sick, or am I twisted? For I am starting to believe there is no cure, and I am simply twisted in nature.” - Alden Delafontaine

“This world isn't fucking cold, dude, we're just turning our backs to the flame.” -- Rocky Bellot

“I used to say, I'd light a match, just to feel the fucking flame, that I was Pinocchio, rotting in the shop, but perhaps, now, I'm Jipedo, and I can breathe life into me, and fix this rotting boy of wood.” - Brad Collins

“I've tried so desperately to scrub myself clean, I've spent hours at the stream, rubbing at my hands yet still they remain stained. With tragedy, with pain.... With me. Perhaps I am the stain.” - Turner Kordell

“The scariest thing of all isn't being scared of other people, it's being so terribly frightened by yourself that even if the mirror isn't broken, you are.” - Turner Kordell

“If my past were tangible, it would bleed me dry the moment I ran my hand across it, so wickedly sharp that I never stood a chance, really. I can forgive myself all I like, but at the end of the day, it isn't about me, it never was.” - Turner Kordell

“I have been destroyed down to my very atoms, nothing but the molecular level of what I once was, but here I am, still standing, cause I ain't in this life to back down, I'm here to rise up, and stay strong in the face of my damn fear.” - Kirby Bellot

“When I'm done, I can look the devil in her pretty blue eyes and say, I did good nuff, and she'll embrace me with open arms, cause these days, the devil leans back, admires my work, and bites her damn lip, cause I've sinned so deeply ain't even the most forgiving of beings can forgive me. I am a testament to the fact that even good men, can go rotten, just ask the devil, cause all she ever did, was tell the truth. And I'm proof of that.” - Zafavri Holts 

“We're all playin' a game 'a chess with our demons, mate, we're all in a back and forth battle against our darker fuckin' side, difference between me, and the average man, is my demons said checkmate the day I was bloody born.” - Alfonso O’Sullivan

“I am beauty in the ugliest of ways.” - Micah Romiro

“They say killing a man fundamentally changes a man, and that's true so long as it's yourself you're killing.” - Micah Romiro

“It's me who made this mess, the genocide of my own self, the slaughter of my own sense of being.” - Max Shaya

“I often wonder if God keeps me alive only because she fears what I would do to her.” - Howl Matthews 

“I have danced with such sin that I am the crawling of God's skin.” - Howl Matthews

“I do not fear death, I do not fear life, or the punishment I shall receive for mine.” - Howl Matthews

 “My whole damn life around me burned and now I can just hear the fucking silence of my regret.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I have found peace in who I am, I am prepared to burn for what I've done, for everything I love already fucking did.” - Milos Fellwitz 

“So come on world, come at me, I'll break you down to my level, cause you already broke me.” - Milos Fellwitz

“Stand up to me, we'll see where it gets ya, cause buddy, you can start this fight, but you sure as FUCK, ain't gonna be the one to God damn finish it. You want a grave? Good. Stand up to me and I'll grant your wish.” - Milos Fellwitz

“I am no longer tethered to me, I am nothing more than a conscience in another body, a reflection of someone else. In these many lives I've lived I've forgotten who I was, Preston Wilkins, the walking grave.” - Preston Wilkins

“I have made grand discoveries in this life, beasts do indeed roam this world, and you'll be surprised to learn we aren't the worst of them. There are things darker than the shadows in this world. Things more tenebrous than the pitch black of the nebula.” - Preston Wilkins

“I am dead to me, a grave now to even myself.” - Mikaelson Graves

“The only time I feel truly alive is when I can dance under the torchlight... The flame flickering on my skin, the moonlight dancing on me, it's as if Heilgravold is spinning only for me on those nights... The stars shine, the moon gleams, the world spins, I can't just stand still.” - Jemalina Night

“I have lived a life I fear will end in damnation, but I cannot truthfully look God in the eye and say I had no justification for what I've done.” - Adam Borwick

“We are inclined to believe that everything beautiful is good, but even the damned can look of salvation. The scariest thing about a liar, is they're often indistinguishable from the truth tellers, and often I've found they pretend to be prophets. They speak lies as others breathe, lies fall off their tongue like truth, and just like that, a thousand fools are lured into lies. Great minds think alike, my friend, but fools' minds rarely differ.” - Adam Borwick

“My hands are a fretwork of white laced scars, healed remnants of the pain I've felt, reminders that I've survived, that I'm alive.” - Juliet Borwick

“My brother often thinks himself a hopeless case, afraid of the blood he's spilled... But despite everything he's done, he's still my hero, and I know that if the wolves surrounded me, with their gnashing teeth and claws, he'd come to my rescue, frightening the beasts with poetry singing of clashing steel and red.” - Juliet Borwick

“The sun ain't gon' rise... At least, heh, not for you.” - Defforest Van Patten

“I have watched bullets soar through the air, droppin' soldiers and bloomin' flowers 'a red misery.” - Defforest Van Patten

“I will face this Goliath in my future as if I was David, slinging the fucking stone.” - Lockman Pierce

“ I will drag this dark into the dawn and make it Icarus, only difference is, it burns for a cause more grand than itself.” - Percy Pierce

“I'd rather go up in flames then down the wrong side of history.” - Percy Pierce

 “My hands are stained with blood, and truthfully, I don't know if it's my own or my conscience's... In this dark place my mind rattles, constantly ricocheting between myself and another... My mind speaks from the tongue of my abuser.” - Dylan Robertson

 “I'm just another man riddled with bullets, watching as all the King's horses and all the King's men simply step over me. This was war, but it became tragedy, as all wars do. Bullets flew, prophets spoke, but the blood was never prose, just red.” - Dylan Robertson

“All it takes to be a good man is to love and be loved, to give what you can and help those less fortunate than you. Even a smile can save a life. I reckon our hearts are suns waitin' to rise, and all it takes is a spark, really. Of love, of joy, even of curiosity. I've found when times are hard, ya don't got to look forward to what life may bring, just curious enough to explore the path God has given you.” - Thornton May

 “I am silk, woven from the finest of horrors.” - Dr. Tobias Emory

“I have watched humanity build themselves a grave over these many years, from the days of the lawless West to the stabbing of Julius Caesar, funny, how knives find backs and ours found the world's.” - Dr. Tobias Emory

“I am poetry, a dark entity captured in the paintings of Van Gogh and the prose of Allen Poe.” - Dr. Tobias Emory

 “You hold a secret for long enough, you become one.” - Changreta Alderbright

“My regret is so softly whispered that I imagine I am simply the who shouting only for Horton to hear.” - Changreta Alderbright

“I am lost, my eyelids heavy and bloodshot, projecting the horrors I can't scratch out, and despite how much I've torn, there's no key behind those fuckers.” - Arnaldus Alswith

“In a kingdom where the gifts the gods bestowed upon us is outlawed, punishable by death, what else are we supposed to do but rebel?” - Faylen Osophine

“I'm a shadow, wearing a crown as if it would save me, but instead I am crushed under it's weight, a stain on my engraved tile floor.” - Jalandar Osophine

 “This battle, this revolution of me, was never meant to be easy, I've fought against myself for decades, and I'm proud to say, not a single corpse of me fell, and flowers bloomed from the bullets fired.” - Georgia Graves

“I am a heartless beast washed in the blood of the lamb by force. God spares me, because I've pulled the wool over his eyes. I am Jacob, pulling a coat over my barren arms and telling Issac I am Easu if only to receive a blessing a doth not fucking deserve.” - Abdalla Calico

“This war against myself is too much to bear, how did I manage to become the hunter, the deer, and the bullet piercing my own damn skull?” - Abdalla Calico

“So oh lord, I am washed in the blood of the lamb, but be weary, for that's only because I slit it's throat.” - Abdalla Calico

“I say, it's time the outcasts wrote the fucking history books. The victors write their own version of history, so I say it's time someone told the damn truth.” - Sluzmink Jones

“I ain't askin' to be forgiven, just spared.” - Regan Locke

“On the inside, I am dyin', bullet holes and old wounds etched on the inside, and yet, on the outside, I ain't even bleedin. It's funny how that works, huh? We all die before we ever reach the damn casket, all it takes is a single bad day, so imagine a life of em.” - Regan Locke

“Bleeding from one's soul is the truest form of self.” - Azophine Bane

“My heart sings a battered melody, but even a lute of few strings can play a chord.” - Brilista Shante

 “I often damn myself for others have damned me.” - Brilista Shante

“I fear I am the judgment of others, I fear I am every person I've ever met and every crime I've ever committed. But maybe, that's because in a world that hates you for your birth, I'm scared to exist, when my existence is damned.” - Brilista Shante

“Who said gluttony came in the form of food? We can wolf down sins just as we would a meal on a silver platter, and I'm just as greedy as the rest of ya if not more.” - Harold Stout

“I have fed myself so full that I can hardly walk without the crushin' weight 'a my sacrilege buryin' me six foot undah.” - Harold Stout

“I am starved yet gorged with sin.” - Harold Stout

 “Am I really to stumble through the dark, finding cliff-sides rather than solid ground?” - Gothel Hendricks

 “My tongue is scarred and bleeding from the lies of affection, my lips are burned with the taste of abusive love.” - Gothel Hendricks

“Life can be tough as all hell, it can shove us in the dirt and then some, but all you gotta do to survive, is get back up. The worst thing a man can do, is stay down.” - Salary Holmes

“Mercy, my dearest of friends, is torture after you are broken, so I wouldn't go praising a man for sparing you. He's spared you of death, not the pain he wishes to cause you.” - Cyrus Hollow

[redisriding]

King of Scars - Review

I have just finished reading King of Scars and let me tell you, I have some THOUGHTS™

I don’t want to spoil anyone though, so read below the fold at your own discretion��

(Also contains spoilers of the Shadow and Bone Trilogy and the Six of Crows Duology, but it is unlikely that one has not read those books but has read King of Scars).

Nb. I word vomited this onto the page so apologies for any typos/misspellings/incomplete trains of thought!

Okay so, let me start by stating my position in respect of the other Grisha Verse books. I enjoyed the Shadow and Bone Trilogy. I really liked the first one, thought the second one did nothing but elongate the story, but found the third one redeeming. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the two main characters/love interest as I found both Alina and Mal annoying in parts, but I have to remind myself that I am in my mid-20s reading YA books so maybe I can’t be too critical of the behaviour of teenagers(?!). I am however a sucker for when the female lead chooses the good boy they grew up with over the mysterious creepy stranger, so yeah I shipped them. What made this trilogy for me was the amazingly vivid universe that was created – the Grisha Verse – and the absolute romp of supporting characters. So, not wanting to leave the world behind just yet I read the Six of Crows duology and I LOVED THESE BOOKS. Not only did we get to delve deeper into the Grisha Verse, but the storyline is fantastic, the characters are brilliantly painted, and the dialogue is some of the most witty, most wonderful dialogue I have ever read (Jesper anyone?). Plus, the Nina x Matthias dynamic is my absolute favourite romance trope!!! With honourable mentions to Kaz and Inej of course.

Going into King of Scars I was hopeful for a thrilling adventure across the Grisha Verse I have come to know so well, with some excellent characters and cracking banter.

 Was that what I found?

 In short, no.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate this book. It was an enjoyable read. However, I do think the King of Scars is Leigh Bardugo’s weakest work. Now, I don’t know whether she was writing under pressure from her publishers, fans etc., if there was something going on in her life perhaps to throw her off her game, or if the King of Scars was genuinely the direction she wanted to take this series/story/universe. The characterisation was good as always, I enjoyed learning more about Nikolai and Zoya’s respective backstories, and yeah, I ship them hard, but there wasn’t as much witty banter as I had hoped. Particularly from a character like Nikolai who gave so much in previous books. Sure, the argument can be made that this book is about him battling his own demons, so fair enough if he was somewhat off his game. I think however this book fell down in two key ways, (1) the universe and (2) the story itself.

What do I mean in respect of not liking the “universe” as conceptualised in King of Scars? This might sound a little strange, but in the Shadow and Bone trilogy and Six of Crows duology the “magic” that the Grisha possess appears very “real” (if magic can indeed be real). There are rules about how Grisha power works and thus seems plausible to me. I feel like King of Scars departed from this. I don’t mean the Zoya/Dragon story line. I actually quite enjoyed the exploration of “but aren’t we all things” and the blurring of the lines between different Grisha powers. I think that will make an interesting development in the story. What is less clear in how magic works in the Grisha Verse is (1) the demon that possesses Nikolai (but sure I can get on board with it for the purpose of the story and to be quite honest I don’t REALLY care about a lot of the minute details about the world’s in fantasy books operate), and (2) the whole mid-section of the book where Nikolai and Zoya are sucked into this Twilight Zone/Alice in Wonderland alternative dimension that emerges in the fold. This is where the book lost me. I didn’t totally understand what was going on, and I think the writing fell down here. It was like even Leigh Bardugo didn’t have a clear idea as to what was happening. Trying to make sense of it was a bit like trying to look through fog. Dragons, bees, three-headed bears, a big rock that became a palace, thorns??? I was totally baffled by it all. Where they in the fold or the Unsea? How did they just suddenly disappear? Where did that pilgrimage camp go? Was any of that real or just an illusion to trap Nikolai and Zoya there? Even at the end I’m unsure as to how much Yuri knew, how much he was leading them knowing what was going to happen or was he just a hapless buffoon that got caught up in the whole thing? How exactly did Zoya defeat the bee witch queen? What happened with Nikolai and his demon? Is it is half defeated? Is the demon the Darkling himself rather than a residue of the Darkling’s monster? Does that mean that the Darkling lives half within Nikolai and half within Yuri? Maybe some of this is deliberately vague and will be cleared up in the next book, but I honestly think that a lot of it has to do with the writing because there are parts that are perfectly clear and I do understand what is happening, for example when Zoya slays the dragon. Perhaps this was because I had read the previous books and I understood what it meant to kill a creature to create an amplifier, but equally, I believe that Leigh Bardugo wrote this section clearer because she had written the previous books!

Essentially, I felt that I had a good grasp of the Grisha Verse but this whole section is too off the wall for it to be believable to me and just doesn’t feel like it “fits” with the universe that had been created/developed in the other books.

The second thing I dislike is the story. Yes, see previous thoughts above in respect of the whole mid-section of the book, but this whole story was just angling to bring the Darkling back? Nah, I don’t like it. Not because the Darkling is a baddie and the thought of him being back can only mean bad things, but because I think its lazy writing. There is already so much conflict, or potential for conflict, in these books with Nikolai becoming King and trying to save Ravka that there was no need for the Darkling to return. For one, I think it undermines everything that happened in the Shadow and Bone series for him to return and presumably be defeated in the next book?. Mal sacrificed himself for Alina to destroy him, only for her to lose her power afterwards. It doesn’t seem right that he went on “living” in this alternative universe. The whole body swap thing was just bizarre, and again, lazy writing. I’m not a fan of people suddenly appearing back from the dead as a trope anyway, but this was particularly sloppily done. (Yes, I know Mal came back from the dead too but there was some explanation as to have him having two souls/lives inside him and as I say I was an Alana/Mal shipper so I was prepared to overlook it). I just felt that the Alina/Mal/Darkling storyline was wrapped up so nicely at the end of the Shadow and Bone trilogy that is doesn’t seem right to bring the Darkling back as the villain in a Nikolai/Zoya story. The final line in the Shadow and Bone series about Alina and Mal living a normal life if a life with love could ever be such a thing absolutely destroyed me (I wept for the evening after reading that – it’s my catnip), but that story felt complete. I don’t see how the Darkling can come back within at least Alina being involved again, and she doesn’t have her powers anymore which were the only things that defeated the Darkling. I think what my uneasiness boils down to is, presumably Nikolai and Zoya are going to defeat him in the next book, but no matter how comprehensively they do so, I’m never going to believe that he is actually dead, or that death in the Grisha Verse really exists. That at any time, anyone, not matter how long they have been dead for could just reappear with some absolutely insane story of how they managed to remain living even though they were totally, utterly, completely, without a doubt dead. 

I think the crux of my disappointment with King of Scars can be summed up as follows:-

Will I be reading the sequel?

Yeah...probably.

Will I be thinking about what is happening to these characters every day until that book is released?

No.