#and she says she’ll put on a cloak but like can just see her doing that

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Fool Dies

Summary: You are a villain known for telling the future. When a Hero kills your right hand, you’ll let the future burn to get her back.

Hero Cowboy kills your henchman after you’ve already surrendered.

Gunshot silence, the scent of iron heavy in your nose, the crippling cold that floods your chest. All familiar sensations, companions you’ve carried with you since you even became a villain, but this time—

This time it’s…different.

You’re on your knees, the rock salt on the road digging into your kneecaps, with your hands above your head, the ghost of your signature smirk fading fast. The street isn’t empty. There are witnesses. The Hero pulls his punches when there are cameras and citizens and teammates. That’s what your plan says. He pulls his punches.

She asked if you were willing to bet her life on that and you said yes.

Your henchman’s body is stuck in the crumpled side of a car. You see her out of your peripheral, the pale oval of her face unencumbered by the mask you’d lovingly bestowed upon her six years ago. Cowboy backhanded it off of her as she was falling to her knees beside you. There is wet and red and twisted metal dancing foggily around her. The air is harsh and cold to breathe. The world is wavering as tears flood your eyes. You can’t blink them away. If you do, you won’t be able to see her just at the corner of your vision, you won’t be able to watch for a breath you already know won’t come, you’re afraid she’ll disappear—

“Clever to pretend to surrender,” the Hero says. He’s like a swan, spreading his arms out so the leather tassels lining the underside of his sleeves look like wings. He tips his head back so that the news cameras rushing in can catch the strength of his jaw under his wide-brimmed hat. She’d managed to singe it in the fight and the light catches in his blue eyes through the resulting hole. “Was it worth it, Prophetess? Was your attempt on my life worth the life of your sidekick?”

Snow falls, a few flakes here and there. The street is lit like the middle of the day thanks to the news cameras swarming out of the side streets now that the fight is over. The fire is being put out and thick curls of smoke rise from just beyond the gathering crowd of onlookers.

Your spellbook is lying a hundred feet away at the bottom of the lake. That’s why the Hero is flaunting himself in front of the cameras, trying to minimize her death at his hand. He did what he had to do. They were wrong, not him. Unfortunate but expected. The Hero always wins.

She’s gone.

The Fool. She always wanted a different name. But you were adamant she wouldn’t receive one until she earned one outside of her service to you. Until then, her name was a reflection of your journey. Your first step, foolish and unknowing, young and ignorant of the consequences. The name felt right when you called it and you never thought to question why. Only now can you taste your own cruel power in the decision. The power of prophecy spelled her fate out in front of you and, like always, you didn’t listen.

Your tattered cloak ripples in the breeze coming off the water. The vibrant purple is stained with soot and worse, the once smooth velvet charred and eaten away at by the Fire Cowboy’s flames.

They don’t remember that you surrendered before he struck. He’s dismissed your uncharacteristic action as an act, and so the world will too. The Prophetess always lies. Isn’t that the first line in your Hero Force file? The Prophetess has no powers of divination; she lies.

The world is magic. You believe it like the sun, like the earth, like the ocean—

--like her—

--and there is magic even here. The spell of your grief rises over your head like a shroud and, for a moment, you are drowning in the dark as the world heaves. You can taste the last cup of coffee she ever gave you going sour at the back of your mouth, the small daily comfort washing away under the metallic scent of her blood. There is a purple current around your thoughts, painful and biting. You will always be in this moment with her jester’s mask – cruel, you are so cruel – leering up at you, closer to your hands than her. How did you let her get so far out of reach?

Why didn’t you hold her close?

“I asked,” Cowboy says from directly in front of you, “if it was worth it?”

The world pulses back into purple focus. Cowboy is looming over you and the smoke of your battle rises into the night behind him. The media jockeys closer the longer you are silent and they’re inching around the car she’s lying against.

“Tell them to get away from her,” you say. Normal, your voice is so normal. Your arms are burning from holding your hands over your head and your neck aches from forcing yourself not to look. You are afraid your tears will fall if you blink so you stare at the gaudy belt buckle in front of your face. Your eyes are purple in the reflection and your face is as pale as hers. “P-please.”

Cowboy must kill all the time. He has no problem glancing towards the slowly gathering swarm and you can feel his eyes on her body as if they were on your own. “They’re trying to help her.”

“She’s beyond helping,” you say. Why would they even try? You can’t even look at her and you can tell that. “I don’t want anyone touching her.”

“They’re not monsters,” Cowboy says. There’s a scoff and then he’s crouching in front of you. He smells like singed leather. “Not like you.”

You’ve never seen the Hero this close. He’s older than you thought, only a few years shy of your age. His stubble is darkened with soot and his nose bears scars of past battles. His eyes—they’re not blue. You can see the edge of brown behind his contacts, the same deep brown as his mask.

“You killed her,” you say.

“No, you did.” He answers you so quickly it’s like he was waiting for those exact words. He tilts his head so the brim of his hat hides his lips in shadow. “She wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for you.”

He’s so confident that you nearly believe him. Your hands ache with phantom bruises from the blows and the weight of your sin falls onto your shoulders like the sky itself coming to rest there.

--------------.

 You see the trajectory of her life lined in gold. Her first day at your firm, her finding out your identity, her wavering in front of the window overlooking the Charlotte skyline as she admitted to knowing exactly who you are and how you’d been hiding more than your fair share of power all along.

That moment shines. She wasn’t the Fool then. She ripped her pencil skirt up the side as you debated her fate. When you asked her why, she said in case she needed to run.

“You would run from me?” you asked, eyebrow raised, conveying with expression alone how ridiculous you found the idea of her getting away was.

“I would,” she said. She grinned unhappily. “You can kill me, but you’ll break a sweat doing it.”

You laughed and held out your hand. When she took it, the outline of her life changed. No longer edged in gold. All black. A night sky all around her.

“You’re a fool for this,” you told her.

“The biggest one around,” she said, chagrined. Then she laughed with you.

You’ll never hear her laugh again.

----------.

There is a protocol for arresting a villain. Cowboy is already so outside of Hero Force code that it takes a while for things to be ready. He stands over you for the better part of an hour, smiling at the cameras, glaring you into submission, waving to the officers that eventually come to secure the scene.

An ambulance comes to take her body away. Only when they load her into it do you move. You watch the side of the vehicle like you can see through it. Cowboy tenses when it starts to drive away, but you don’t twitch. Her body isn’t her. If you start clinging to it now, you will never let her go.

“I know they call you Cowboy,” a woman drawls, “but you aren’t supposed to act like one.”

The reporters leap out of Strongwoman’s way. Barely five feet, Strongwoman is a super hero. Nobody is willing to get too close, regardless of how good and moral she is. The dark-haired woman is one of the few heroes who don’t wear a mask. No villain is stupid enough to think that makes her weak. Her dark eyes catalogue the scene quickly and efficiently. The ground rumbles as she approaches.

“Heat of battle,” Cowboy dismisses. His shoulders relax with another hero to support him and he shakes out his leather vest. Soot and snow falls from him. “Literally.”

“Hm.” Strongwoman finally turns the weight of her attention towards you. “Where’s her spellbook?”

“Bottom of the lake.”

“She hasn’t tried to summon it?”

“Her minion was in charge of that.”

Strongwoman’s voice whips. “We don’t call them minions.”

“Sorry.”

“You should be,” Strongwoman says. She folds her arms across her chest. She always gives the impression of being wrapped in armor and it takes you a moment to realize she’s wearing a tank top despite the cold. The muscles in her arms twitch. “That’s your third body this year.”

Cowboy hisses, eyes flying over her head towards the reporters. “Don’t—” A coalition of people in dark suits are already herding the media away. Cowboy’s lips thin. “Not in public.”

Strongwoman raises an eyebrow. She reaches down with one hand and hauls you up by the collar of your robes. “Fine. The car then.” She frowns at the way your hands hang by your sides. “You didn’t cuff her?”

“She doesn’t have her spellbook.”

“Protocol, Cow.”

“It’s Cowboy.”

“…”

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Strongwoman cuffs your hands behind your back. The familiar sting of power suppressors races up your arms. The last time someone managed to get them on you, the Fool had to break them off once you escaped. You feel her breath against the shell of your ear and her voice whispers, Now who will do it for you?

Her memory is another spell on you. The edges of your life – dark and violently violet – cover your eyes so that you’re blind and deaf to the world around you. Once this new incantation runs its course, you’re sitting in the back of a Hero Force car. The grate between you and the front seat is closed. Beyond it, you can see Strongwoman at the wheel, shoulders vibrating with tension. Cowboy is sitting in the passenger seat like a petulant child.

You read their lips in the rearview mirror.

--review, Strongwoman says. Three. Three deaths on your hands.

This one was just a villain—

Tell that to Foresight. I beg you. See how he likes that excuse.

Cowboy changes tactics. You know the Prophetess is basically an S-Class—

Without her spellbook?

She had it for most of the fight.

Did she?

You lean your head back and close your eyes. Cowboy’s been operating alone for too long. They’ll likely stick him in probation and then transfer him to a hero team with an established leader. Maybe Atlas’ team in San Francisco or Light’s team in LA. Hell, if they really want to punish him, they’ll assign him to Omit���s team in Chicago. The guy’s the most righteous and the most powerless leader out there. Cowboy might actually become a villain if he’s forced to follow that guy’s lead.

“He’ll suffer,” you say in your prophecy voice.

A speaker crackles to life overhead. “No divination,” Cowboy snaps.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” you say.

“Prophetess lies,” Strongwoman says to Cowboy. “Remember, she always lies.”

“It’s still a threat—”

“Prophetess,” Strongwoman says. “Let’s go over next steps. When we get to Charlotte HQ, you’ll be taken to a secure floor where you’ll be asked to remove your mask. It’s important that you understand your identity will remain confidential until your loved ones can be secured—”

“He killed her,” you interrupt. You watch the ceiling of the car. “I can tell you my identity now if you’d like.”

There’s a pause. “That won’t be necessary,” Strongwoman says. Is it just you, or is her voice a little softer? “There is a proper course to this investigation.”

The way she says it makes it sound like she’s promising you something.

It’s like your mind is scrambling for connection to her. There is nothing in what Strongwoman says that reminds you of the Fool. And yet, as the car falls back into weighted silence, one word rings. Proper.

There is a proper way, the Fool whispers. You could fight this spell, but don’t. You sink into the car seat the best you can with your hands behind your back. Hear me out.

Please, you think. By all means.

------.

The first time you ask her to dinner, you’re too hasty. There’s blood on the hem of your robes (possibly a tooth) and the city is still screaming the sirens of your escape. The Fool isn’t shivering like the rest of your henchman; she is standing next to you. Her Jester’s mask is carefully secured with three exact ties despite the haste with which she put it on.

“I can never wear this skirt again,” she says. She is standing on the very edge of the building, the toes of her sensible work shoes a bare inch away from nothing. “This was my best work skirt.”

The city sparks with the purple of your magic, violet vines climbing the buildings and blocking your view of the street below. Your magic is mostly illusion, but all power leaves behind a mark. Where your spell has started to fade remains a charred outline of leaves and flowers against the concrete and stone of the buildings.

While the rest of your minions look a bit like chimney sweeps, the Fool remains untouched. It’s an obvious sign of favoritism; you had room for one other person underneath your cloak and you chose her.

Somehow the memory of her pressed against your side as she used her power to lift you both up to the rooftop makes you blush.

“You don’t have any residue on you,” you say. “You can stitch it up.”

She scoffs. At you. “It’s recognizable, Prophetess.”

It’s really not. The black pencil skirt is the same kind she wore when you first met. How many does she go through? You find yourself smiling at her bare thigh.  Since she first told you she knew who you were, you’ve seen her rip at least three.

“Something amuse you?” she asks. Her voice is short and snappish, the tone she uses when one of the other paralegals aren’t as thorough as they need to be with the briefs. She turns to face you so that the setting sun lights her outline in orange and pink and gold.

“Have dinner with me,” you say.

And for a moment, the hope of her saying yes is as blinding as the sun behind her. Her lips part and you imagine that her eyes widen behind her jester’s mask. A wind picks at the long strands of her hair, sending them fluttering around her like a halo, and you’re standing so close that one brushes your cheek.

“There is a proper way,” she says and then stops. Her right hand twitches at her side. “There is—” is she stuttering? “This isn’t—Prophetess.”

You’re fascinated. She’s always so precise with her words. Even when you threatened her all those months ago she never once floundered like she’s doing now. “Hmm?”

“Hear me out,” she says.

You nod. “Of course.” You lean forward so that you’re only inches away from her. “I’m listening.”

“This…is not the time,” she says. You feel her attention slide to the others and then back to you. She hisses when she finds you even closer. “Prophetess.”

You don’t want to push too hard.

You lean back onto your good leg. “You let me know when it is time,” you say. Your lips quirk. “My little Fool.”

“Oh my god,” she mutters. She turns sharply on her heel. “Get yourself off the roof. I’m going home.”

You watch as she steps off the roof without hesitation. Her telekinetic powers are unique in that they can work on people too. You usually rely on her to get you home.

Maybe you should have asked her afterwards…

You turn to your other minions. Low-level villains without the drive or power to execute their own heists who all owe you the same favor. You raise your brow. “So how are you lot getting me off this roof?”

“You’ve got legs,” the Ace of Swords says.

“I broke my left one,” you say. And, to prove you aren’t lying, you draw away your cape to show that your pant leg is soaked in red.

The Ace of Swords stares. “This is why she said no.”

“Was that what it sounded like to you?” you ask. His surety makes you frown. “For that, you get to carry me down.”

The Ace of Swords groans as the other Swords flee.

-----------.

Your Swords are not always Swords. Sometimes they are Pentacles or Wands or Cups. There’s meaning to the costuming you put your people through, a meaning that escapes Hero Force.

“Where are the others?” Cowboy growls at you over the interrogation table. He keeps aggressively tapping the photos he flung in front of you. Grainy shots of your Wands storming through the Christmas Parade you used as a cover to kidnap the Mayor, blurry screen grabs from security footage of them as Pentacles in the art museum, a delightful brochure featuring them as Cups in a reproduction of Macbeth you used to do some light money laundering. “If you tell us, we might cut you a deal. Six of your people are being prepared for interrogation right now. Want to bet who breaks first?”

The ghost of you smiles behind your dead eyes, leans forward, and sneers in Cowboy’s face. That version of you is delighted by Cowboy mistaking six people for twenty-four and wants to play the interrogation game he’s offering. But the real you feels as heavy as lead and it takes all your strength to watch as Cowboy slowly works his way into a frenzy.

“For too long you’ve been tormenting this city,” he says. He shakes a finger in your face. “I told Headquarters, I said you were a problem when you first showed up in Raleigh. I said, ‘This one is going to come to Charlotte and she’s going to show up with an army.’ I did. I said that and now you’ve got the largest crew in America.”

“Quite the fortune teller, aren’t you?” you murmur. The Fool is at the front of the brochure, all done up as Macbeth. You’d tried to get her to be Lady Macbeth, but she’d insisted she be the main character for once.

You don’t understand Macbeth, you’d said.

His name is the play, she argued.

Lady Macbeth is the mastermind.

Did you read the play?

Did you?

Neither of you had.

Cowboy slams his hand on the table. “Look, Prophetess, I’m the only chance you’ve got at a deal. As soon as those DC heroes get in here, it’s off the table.”

Ha.

“It would be convenient for you if there were no witnesses,” you observe. “More convenient if you get to them before the DC crowd.”

“Witnesses to what?” Cowboy blusters. But he draws back and his gaze is colder than the Hero Force air conditioning that’s already making this room glacial. “To justice?”

How dare he lie to you? Her pale face haunts your peripheral vision. You can see her in the window of the interrogation room.

“To murder,” you say. Your glares clash when you finally look up at him. The soot is still in his stubble and you imagine you can smell her blood coming from his singed leather vest. “She surrendered. We all saw it.”

“She was an A-rank villain with telekinetic powers strong enough to crush my skull,” Cowboy bites back. “I acted in self-defense.”

“With us both on our knees—”

Cowboy whips his arm across the table, scattering the photos of your people into the air. He slams his hand again. “Last chance. Tell me where the rest of your minions are!”

In your holding cells, you stupid—

“You’re a pathetic worm of a man,” you say. You clear your throat. “Sorry. Let me say it in a way you’ll understand.” You adopt your prophecy voice. “The dust Cowboy leaves behind is red, red as the blood on his hands. His golden star is stained—”

You see the blow coming. Not a prophecy, of course.

You just know what heroes do when their buttons are pushed.

-----.

The second time you ask her to dinner, you’re too stupid for her to say yes. It’s not your fault though. How could you have known the Mayor had superpowers? He didn’t do anything besides embezzle taxpayer money!

“Maybe,” she says tightly, dragging your leaden and paralyzed body through the grand halls of the mayoral house, “you could have done a single iota of research instead of sewing all those costumes.”

Feeling is coming back into your hands. They still ache from finishing the elf-themed Wand costumes you’d made for your employees. You think the group costume of Five of Wands came out particularly well. All those little elves holding giant candy cane wands…a perfect symbol for the tumultuous election Season. You flex your fingers and then wince when the Fool’s nails dig into the soft undersides of your arms. “Ouch. Could you—”

“I am not slowing down,” she says. She grunts as she slings you around another corner. “We need to get to the backyard. Ace is meeting us there with the chopper.”

“Such a waste of money,” you bemoan. The chopper had been Two’s idea and all she does is maintain it. She won’t let you fly it until you get your license. “We should’ve got a boat.”

“Great idea,” the Fool snarls. She adjusts her grip so her nails are now digging into your shoulders rather than your arms. “A giant vehicle we have to keep in the harbor. The heroes would never find that.”

“Okay, you have me there,” you say. Your words are crisper now and you can even push a little with your legs as she pulls you into the empty kitchen. “But consider this. I could take you to dinner on a yacht. I can’t take you to dinner on a helicopter.” She stops in her tracks, head whipping down to look at you. Your noses nearly touch. You grin dopily. “Hi.”

“Are you asking me to dinner right now,” she asks in a tone that tells you you’d better be careful with your answer.

She’s so pretty. That’s why you aren’t careful when you slur, “Yes.”

She drags you through the doorway into the backyard. “I sure hope it’s the drugs making you this stupid.”

“Hey—”

“Hey!”

Both of you look back towards the house to where the Mayor has just appeared. He’s wearing the smoking jacket he’d monologued in and the handkerchief he’d used to drug you is hanging limply in his grip.

He points at you. “You. You should be unconscious! Nobody escapes my venom!”

“Oh gross,” the Fool says. “Does he make the sedatives from his body?”

“From his sweat,” you affirm. Then, raising your voice over the growing sound of the chopper and her gagging, “Maybe you should sweat better drugs, huh?”

The Fool coughs and wheezes. You recognize a laugh in the sound. “Don’t antagonize—”

The Mayor bellows and sweat begins to drip from his forehead. He mops at it with his handkerchief and then advances across the grass. “Get back here!”

“Hahaha,” you say, “He was definitely a hero. I know how to push their buttons.”

It becomes a race to who gets to you first; the chopper or the Mayor.

As usual, the Fool wins.

-----.

Cowboy isn’t allowed in your room after hitting you in the face. You can feel him lurking in the hall outside when Strongwoman takes the seat across from you.

“That…wasn’t supposed to happen,” she says and pinches the bridge of her nose. She’s sitting on a special crate they brought in for her. It creaks when she leans forward. “Are you sure you don’t need medical attention?”

The Fool is the only one you let tend to your wounds. Blood stings your eye. Cowboy was wearing his rings when he hit you. “I’m fine.”

Strongwoman sighs through her nose. She’s short and stocky, dark hair and wide nose. There’s a beauty to her when she’s still and quiet. When she moves? She moves like a threat. “We need to know where your base is,” she says.

“Home is where the heart is,” you say. And you killed mine.

Strongwoman’s lips thin. “Look, if you want the guys who speak riddles, we can wait for them. Or you can answer my questions and maybe we can come to some sort of understanding.”

“Interesting offer.” You lean back and contemplate her. “You have my spell book.”

“Except that,” Strongwoman says immediately. She winces. “Sorry. You’re in custody. The spell book isn’t even on-site anymore.”

“Then you can take these off,” you say, nodding to your cuffs. Their faint glow is making you sick. “As a sign of good faith.”

“Tell me everything about your operation,” Strongwoman retorts. She shakes her head. “Nobody believes you’re harmless without your spellbook.”

“Cowboy does.”

“Cowboy is operating under a lot of false assumptions,” Strongwoman says. She leans forward to match you. “Like the one where you have over 30 lower-level villains working for you.”

“Oh?”

“We have six,” Strongwoman says. “Tell me where the rest are and we can negotiate.”

Ha. She doesn’t know either. You are so good at costuming. It’s not like your henchmen can multiply. There are always just six with you and it’s through your costumes that they transform. You’ll have to tell the Fool—

Your mood sours. Tell the Fool. Who’s the Fool now? You’re not in the mood to play games. “I tell you everything, you let me talk to those you have.”

“No—”

“I don’t know everything about them,” you snap. “You’re asking me to betray my people. Fine, I’ll do that. You lot will pry and pull and claw until you find out anyway. But allow me to give them the chance to tell you about whatever family or loved one they haven’t told me about. If I must take them down with me, at least let them beg Hero Force for leniency for their loved ones.”

Strongwoman considers you. “And what do you want in exchange?”

“Let,” you clear your throat. Your eyes are hot and itchy. “Let me have a moment with them. To mourn one of our own passing. To—” you clear your throat “-to lay the Fool to rest.”

The silence sticks to the walls and builds. It presses into you on all sides until you feel like you’re in a coffin. You once told her you would die with her.

Not allowed, ma’am. I don’t think we’d go to the same place.

You swallow hard and stare at your hands.

“Deal,” Strongwoman says finally.

“Thank you,” you say. Your head bows until your forehead presses against your shaking hands. “Thank you.”

“Cuffs will stay on,” Strongwoman says gruffly. She pulls out a pen and pad. The pen looks like it’s made of metal. “Start talking.”

You do.

-----------------.

The third time you ask her to dinner, she stares at you for a long time. It makes you nervous in a way you haven’t been before, her unrelenting stare. Is it because she’s usually so quick? Or could it be because you can feel her eyes on your bare face for the first time since she stood in your office and called you a villain?

The same office you’re currently standing in now as the sun sets behind her?

“I have concerns,” she says at last.

Oh thank god. You’re smiling too widely. “I can work with concerns.”

“Can you?” Her eyes flash gold with the sun. “You keep asking me out while we’re working,” she says.

You blink. “Do I?”

“You do.”

You consider her words, leaning back against your desk. You’re wearing your pinstriped suit today and it’s getting a little tight. She feeds you before and after every meeting you have and you have a lot of meetings. “I’m always working.”

“That’s true,” she says. She turns on her heel. “And that’s the concern.”

You stand up. “Wait, how is that—”

She stops at the door and turns to look at you in a way that steals your breath. “I am not work,” she says. Her lip twitches. “Nor am I a fool.”

“I know, you’re—”

“Ace says they’re already at the meeting place. According to your schedule, we’re running late.”

“We haven’t finished talking.” You try to sound firm, like you used to. Instead, the words come out as almost a plea. “We can be late.”

“You’re never late. Besides, I hear it’s going to be a regular rodeo.”

“Cowboy? Ha! When did he blow back into town?”

“His probation period is up.”

“Lucky us.”

-----.

Lucky us.

You Fool.

--------.

You look over the bowed heads of your employees. Ace, Two, Five, Eight, Ten, and Page. The room Strongwoman led you to looks like the cockpit of a spaceship. Noxious blue light undulates up the concave walls. There are no chairs in here, no pulpit for you to stand behind.

So your employees kneel when you walk between them all to stand in the very center.

“Prophetess,” Ace says. Her voice is thin and high. “We—I’m so sorry.”

Two looks up. Her face is drawn and there’s a deep bruise along the side of it. “We know how it is to lose.”

“You do,” you murmur. You’re aware of the eyes on you here. You saw Cowboy sneering in the observation room on the other side of this one. There are cameras scattered like black stars across the ceiling. “I know you do. But there is a renewal in Death. If—” you swallow hard “-if you allow it.”

You expect fear. What you’re asking of them has happened exactly six times. The favor they owe is not only to you, but to each other. Death is the complete annihilation of everything you know. It can be the end. Or it can be the beginning.

But it takes people to begin.

And you have asked them too many times before.

“Anything,” they say as one.

Your head shoots up. “What?”

Six of your employees – your friends – return your gaze unflinching.

“If I have to redo everything again, I will,” Ace says. She presses a hand over her heart. You know a picture of her son lies there. “Time doesn’t matter. We won’t lose anything but time.”

“We know we can rebuild,” Two says. Her eyes are fierce. “We can do it better.”

“You taught us how to do it better,” Five says.

“I thought you would’ve already done it,” Page says. He scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t eat lunch thinking you woulda done it by now.”

“You didn’t miss much,” Eight tells him. Then, to you, “You did it for us. Again and again and again—”

“—and again and again and again—”

Eight punches Page. “Shut up.” She breathes in through her nose. “Prophetess. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“The memories you have made will only remain with you,” you remind them. Your hands are shaking. This—you have asked this favor for the sake of others. Did they feel this vulnerable asking? So hopeful and so full of dread. “It will be different. Time changes all and you who have experienced it—”

“—will be like fortune tellers in a strange new land,” Ace says. “We know.”

“We’re okay with it.”

“Are you?”

The time is approaching. You can hear voices outside the room. Ten minutes. She’d promised you thirty, but you figured they’d interrupt sooner. Especially considering what you’re saying.

You breathe in deeply through your nose. You think of her pencil skirt and her flashing eyes and her warm smile. The ghost of her pale face is fading into blackness as this curtain closes.

Your resolve firms. It was a bad ending. As a villain, you’re allowed to rewrite those.

“Tonight,” you say in your whispering voice, “we rebalance the deck.”

The blue in the room flickers. The voices in the corridor gain urgency. The cuffs around your wrist flare and then go dormant.

“I see my son a babe again,” Ace sings. Her eyes burn with your purple power as she brings her hands up towards you. The memory of the favor you granted her rises with her words. “I hold his hand.”

The blue flickers purple and electricity arcs. The Hero Force suppressors are to stop superpowers.

There is very little they can do against fate.

“I see the bus that takes them away,” Page says. He doesn’t sing. His voice is as dry as the desert and he salutes you. His hand glows against his temple. “They get on it.”

“I see my friend at the crossroads,” Two says. She holds her hands palm up and tilts her head to the sky. Tears of neon violet fall down her face. “I follow them.”

“The power I have falls into my hands like rain,” Eight says. She cups her hands in front of her and they fill with your power until it spills over onto the ground. “I drink from it.”

“The harm I caused erased,” Five says. He crosses his arms over his chest and bows his head. A halo the color of lilac blooms over his head. “I atone.”

“I do better,” Ten says simply.  They stand with their hands by their sides. Their eyes burn with your power and they do not flinch. “I don’t bury them.”

Your power crawls along the walls. There are no more blue arcs of power. There are purple flowers and thorns that leave shadows in their wake. They seal the door shut and you are distantly aware that Strongwoman is trying to smash her way inside and can’t.

Fate takes a different type of strength to overpower.

“I see her again,” you say. The tides of the world pull at your long hair. You are drowning in light. The ground shakes under your feet. You think of her life outlined in gold, yourself outlined in gold. Is it possible you can see it glittering there in the unrelenting ocean flooding into you? “I see her again.”

Thunder crashes and everything becomes nothing.

-----------.

You are at your desk. You blink at the pages lying before you. A brief. A case. From four years ago.

You release a trembling breath. You never doubted it would work but it’s a relief to see not so much time has passed. Ace will still share some memories with her son. Page will not have to sit by his brothers’ bedsides again. Ten won’t be trapped in her father’s house.

The rest…the rest will not expect your help. You didn’t help them the last three times. Cruel, maybe. Fate often is.

You think Two is in Charlotte at this point. She mentioned something about a halfway house…

You freeze grabbing your coat as familiar footsteps echo from the hall outside your door. The skyline is twinkling with city lights, but it’s nearly midnight. Nobody should be here, you don’t remember anyone being here at this time—

The door opens without a knock. Her hair is chopped beneath her ears and she has a lip piercing and there isn’t a pencil skirt to be found. But it’s her. It’s her.

“Anika,” you breathe.

Her gold eyes flick to you, to your desk, to your coat in your hand. “You working?”

“N-no,” you say. Your words pile up behind your teeth. Do you remember? Of course you do, otherwise how would you be here. But how? Did I infect you? Did the outline of my life really drag you into my power enough--

Anika waits. When you continue to stare at her, she prods, “I’m not your paralegal.”

“You don’t look like you’ve even finished your degree,” you blurt out. You point. “A lip piercing?”

Anika rubs her piercing. “I’m not the Fool,” Anika says patiently.

A light bulb goes off. “Oh,” you say. “Oh!” You get down on one knee. “Anika, will you marry me—” Anika throws her purse at you. It misses by about three feet. You stand and try again. “I mean, will you go to dinner with me?”

“Yes, I’ll go to dinner with you.” Anika rubs a hand over her face. “Everytime I give you an inch, you take a mile—"

“For the rest of our lives,” you promise.

Anika shakes a finger at you. “Dinner.”

“It’s a beginning,” you say cheerfully.

The best one you’ve ever had.

-------.

Thanks for reading! I do love my supervillain stories and appreciate you for making it through this one! Sometimes I wonder if I can even write flash fiction anymore haha

Next week's story is already up on my Patreon (X)! I'm super excited to share it as it made me laugh writing it. It's an AITA style post from a woman who used to be a Cryptid professionally and feels like she's made a misstep with her Slasher boyfriend.

See y'all next time!

[daydreamerdrew]

The Bill Everett Archives vol. 2, reprinting a story from Amazing Mystery Funnies (1939) #3

[ladykissingfish]

Coupla Random Akatsuki Headcanons 🤷🏽‍♀️

Many of the Akatsuki members spent so many years camping on the ground or sleeping on floors that beds feel strange and foreign to them. Oftentimes in hotels with beds, a member will wake up in the middle of the night on the floor because at some point in their sleep they got up and moved themselves to a spot more familiar.

Sasori developed a mild case of agoraphobia following the death of his parents. When they passed, the outside world suddenly seemed too big, too bright, too threatening. He preferred to stay indoors as much as he could, reading, and later working on his puppets. When he travels he travels inside Hiroku not so much for protection but because the small, enclosed space puts his mind more at ease.

Along with his eyesight, Itachi has slowly been losing his sense of taste over the years. “You eat with your eyes” is a very true saying, and because of Itachi’s worsening vision, all food looks (and eventually starts to taste) very bland to him.

Deidara takes a ton of vitamins every day because he dreads getting sick. When he’s ill, his hand-mouths become ill as well, meaning coughing and multiple bodily fluids are coming out of every place imaginable. When he does get sick, he’ll quarantine himself until he’s well again because he doesn’t want the others to see him in such a state.

Kakuzu is a secret lover of romance novels, as is Kisame. One will often buy a book, read it, and then lend it to the other to read so that they can talk it over with each other.

Everyone fights over who gets to go on missions with Kakuzu in late fall/winter. His five hearts make him run very warm, so warm that he doesn’t really need his cloak or anything when traveling. He throws off a great deal of warmth and just standing near him is like standing in front of a crackling fire, which feels very pleasant in cold weather.

Kisame didn’t learn how to swim or breathe underwater until he was nearly 20 years old. All his early life he was embarrassed of his half-shark genetics and refused to do or learn anything that would give him away as being more than human.

Konan is somewhat of a germaphobe. She keeps her distance from the other Akatsuki members and when she does have to have close interactions with anyone, afterwards she’ll sanitize and/or “power shower” herself as soon as she’s able. A large part of this has to do with Nagato; his actual body is very frail and his immune system is extremely weak. She’s constantly worried that she’ll unwittingly bring him something that might end up killing him.

Hidan needs to be reminded to eat, a lot. Especially after he’s through with a prayer ritual. When he does eat he prefers lots of meat; he’s somewhat anemic due to all the blood he’s constantly losing and his body seeks out ways to replace his depleted iron.

Although he doesn’t show it, Deidara actually really likes traveling with Tobi. Deidara thinks it’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t (seem to) take life so seriously, and he likes being the “senior partner”, as opposed to his time with Sasori when Deidara was constantly being given orders and “bossed around”.

In nice weather, Konan and Deidara like to fly together (she with her paper wings, him on his birds). Sometimes they race to see who can go faster, although Konan almost always wins due to being more lightweight.

With the exception of Itachi and Sasori (who doesn’t eat anymore), none of the Akatsuki really knows how to cook. They can make simple things like rice balls or porridge, but that’s about it. A great deal of the Akatsuki’s monthly bills comes from eating at inns or buying easy to eat foods at markets.

Zetsu became sensitive to the others complaining about how he smelled like “compost and corpses���, so to compensate, he started to wear cologne. Too much cologne, in fact. So much that the smell was over-powering and made it harder to be around him than before. After a talk with Obito, Zetsu agreed to stop with the sprays and just start showering more often, a compromise the others were happy to accept.

Deidara is hyper-sensitive to the textures of certain foods, and simply refuses to eat anything that doesn’t “feel” right to him. He also has a quirk where, if he’s having a meal with multiple things on a plate, none of those things can be touching each other in the slightest.

Itachi is pretty lauded as being the group’s resident insomniac, but Kakuzu is just as bad (if not worse) than him. They mostly give each other their own space during the long nights awake, but sometimes they’ll spend a couple of hours together talking or reading or going for a long walk (weather permitting).

Sasori has shown every member in the Akatsuki how to put him together should there ever be a situation when Sasori was too incapacitated to do it himself. The only one he hasn’t shared this information with was Hidan, because Sasori doesn’t trust Hidan to put him back incorrectly.

Hidan has extensively studied/looked into the major religions of the country, because he wanted to be sure that Jashinism was the correct one for him. Many years passed and he never found another set of beliefs that suited him like the way of Jashin did.

[mahoushojo-chan]

Astarion x Tav || Anxiety Attack

gonna be right by your side (no matter what)

synopsis: he's never seen her look so frightened before. she trembles slightly, keeping her hands close to her body. she doesn’t even meet astarion’s gaze. it’s as if she's still focused on the creature, even though it's no longer within her line of sight. her breaths begin to come in starts, and his senses can hear her pulse skyrocketing.

an excerpt of “’cause my love (is mine, all mine)”

word count: 1739

pairing: astarion/tav

other tags: f!reader, bard!tav, hurt/comfort, light angst, non-sexual intimacy, romantic tension, friends to lovers, panic attack comfort, magically induced anxiety attack, song inspo: No Matter What by Zach Callison and Michaela Dietz

ao3: here

concept: panic attack comfort

After hours of traversing the dangerous depths of the Underdark, it finally dawns on Tav that the subterranean caves aren’t exactly suitable for a two-person adventuring party consisting of a bard and her dashing rogue companion. In the process, Tav has expended all her spell slots, save for two level one spells, and has endured not only physical damage, but psychological damage from the amount of whining that Astarion is putting her through.

“Gods, I truly hate it down here. Darling, let’s set a goal to live in a nice, lavish palace full of pointless luxuries.” Astarion insists, and almost enjoys the implication of living with each other in the future enough to forgive his incessant complaints. Almost.

She bites her tongue, because she figures it’s hard enough to give up life in the sun for a darkness he doesn’t truly care for. She’ll pester him about it later, but she knows the wound is still fresh for him right now.

It’s late into—well, it’s rather difficult to tell what the time is. Tav considers taking one more short rest, but she knows that they’re almost there.

“You know, I’ve actually never been to this place.” He says, now that they’re near enough to look for the entrance. Cazador’s entrance to the Underdark lead to some old vampire’s keep, located just to the east of Baldur’s Gate, auspiciously under the Fields of the Dead. “I wonder what wonders could be inside—hm?”

He stops when he notices Tav isn’t moving and narrows his eyes to try to see what she’s looking at. Though Astarion possesses keen night vision, the initial sight is somewhat obscure. At first, it appears as a mere silhouette, and in the Underdark, it's impossible to be wary of every peculiar shadow. Yet, after a moment, he discerns distinct horned features, and the shadowy form takes on the semblance of a horned humanoid, its eyes oozing pure horror, and it points a finger at them.

“Hells.” Astarion mutters, instinctively switching to disengage stealthily. He ducks behind the last corner they came from, and expects Tav to follow—before he turns to see her still rooted firmly in place.

“What are you doing? Get over here, quickly!” He hisses at her, but rather uncharacteristically, she doesn’t respond. He’s used to her fearless antics, and this does look like something she’d be rather interested in, but there’s only so much stupidity he’s able to take. Out of options, he grabs the back of her cloak and pulls, successfully tugging her behind the corner. “Are you insane?” He snaps, but the second he turns his attention away from the creature and towards Tav, he immediately freezes.

He's never seen her look so frightened before. She trembles slightly, keeping her hands close to her body. She doesn’t even meet Astarion’s gaze. It’s as if she's still focused on the creature, even though it's no longer within her line of sight. Her breaths begin to come in starts, and his senses can hear her pulse skyrocketing.

“Breathe, darling.” He instructs, but she isn’t listening to him—more importantly, she still isn’t moving. It’s not that he doesn’t want to comfort her, but he’s pretty sure the monster, whatever it is, is still slowly stalking towards them.

Quickly, as a last-ditch effort, he hoists her onto his back. She’s still heavy, and she’s slowing him down. Even if it might be faster to hide her and look for the entrance himself, when she stutters, “’Starion?” In that quiet, uncharacteristically weak voice, he knows he can’t leave her.

“Right here, my sweet, right here.” He reassures quietly, still looking for the entrance while trying to keep out of the creature’s sight. At the very least, it didn’t seem very perceptive.

Eventually, he sees a crack of firelight in the wall—just enough to reveal concrete slabs behind the layers of rock, and enough to illuminate the edges of a wooden door. He quickly dashes towards it and pries the door open, entering and putting her down before closing the door behind him. He looks through the iron keyhole to see if the monster will pass, but a voice breaks his concentration.

“Astarion,” Dalyria says, sounding relieved.

“Shh.” He dismisses. “There’s something outside.”

Dalyria stays silent for a moment before recognition tinges her voice. “Ah. You mean the Nightwalker. It’s okay, it hasn’t bothered any of us. It seems if we stay out of its way, it won’t go out of its way to hurt us. It’s been a bit of a relief if anything.” She tells him, but Astarion isn’t reassured quite yet. They had stayed well out of its way, and it seemed to target them still.

Still, seeing that the creature has at least stopped chasing them down, Astarion finally ducks down towards Tav, seeing her state once again. He knows something is wrong with her, and not something natural. She was normally fearless—and while he knew that wasn’t entirely true, it was too sudden for her to completely cower at some unknown, shadowy figure when she had faced devils and shades more fearsome than the creature they encountered. He knows it must have done something to her, but now that they are in relative safety, he just needs her to breathe, gods damn it.

“Is she alright?” Dalyria asks, trying to peer over Astarion’s shoulder to see Tav. His first instinct is to bristle, but he knows that out of all his siblings, Dalyria is probably the best to take a look at her.

A little reluctantly, he steps aside. Dalyria observes her for a moment, and takes her hand, but Tav immediately withdraws as though burned. She still can’t speak, but Dalyria discerns, “I wonder if this is its effect on the living.”

“And? Your verdict? What are we supposed to do?” He snaps, but he can’t stand to look at her shivering form anymore, so he turns away.

“You may just have to wait it out,” Dalyria accepts. “I could attempt to heal a physical ailment, but this seems mostly mental. If it’s magically induced, though, it shouldn’t last very long once it’s out of her sight.”

Astarion curses under his breath. He ducks down, and peers at Tav again. Her face is pressed into her hands, and her knees are tucked in. It seems to be more grounding behaviour than anything else. He takes her side.

“Where is everyone else?” He asks Dal, but he doesn’t take his gaze off Tav.

“They’re trying to calm the other spawn. It’s turmoil out there. So many of them… they haven’t been free in forever. Trying to reel them all in feels impossible.” She sighs. “I only came to check in on you. Should I… leave you, for a moment?” She asks, looking at his companion again.

He heaves a hefty sigh. They had finally come all this way, but… “For now.” He reassures, partially to himself. He glances over his shoulder. “We’ve prepared supplies, but we weren’t able to carry all of it here. The rest should be at the entrance to Cazador’s castle. You can use them as rations for now.”

Dalyria nods in understanding. “I’ll tell the others,” she assures him. “Then, once everyone has fed… please come to us then. We’ll be waiting in the dining room. All of us.”

He doesn’t respond, even as she shuts the door. Instead, he turns his attention back to Tav. He’s glad he can speak freely without revealing too much of themselves. He sighs dramatically. “Come now, love, this doesn’t suit you at all. Stop this, you’re being ridiculous.”

He’s hoping to provoke her into responding, but it seems the magically-induced fright is not something that can just be taunted away. It’s difficult, because he knows if he were under such an effect, she would be able to ward it off immediately. In fact, it was one of her special skills to divert charms and fears with her own.

“What’s that song you normally sing? The song about Heroism, with some drivel less about heroes and more about some saccharine ‘love and friendship’ and whatnot?” He asks, hoping to trigger her memory. She stirs, but it looks more like she’s withdrawing further into herself.

As a last ditch effort, Astarion begins to hum what he knows of the melody. It’s terrible and off-key, and he’s not even sure he’s remembering more than the chorus. To grab her attention, he drums his fingers on the top of her head playfully, approximately to the rhythm of the song that he remembers.

He continues humming, stopping ever so often to prompt her to continue. Eventually, in a shaky, unsupported, quiet mutter, she sings the lyrics to the song as a call-and-response.

Encouragingly, he perks up immediately. He continues his humming, and as they continue, she switches from call-and-response to providing the actual lyrics to the section he hums. She finally raises her head—ever so slightly—to meet his eyes.

When she continues, she continues with the melody, a little more confidently. She takes the opportunity to hold his hands, gripping both his hands with hers. He lets her continue the song on her own, and her fear seems to be dissipating. She garnishes her performance with pretty runs and vibratos, but then she looks at him expectantly—this time, she wants him to follow her lead, and she seems to be expecting more than humming.

Softly, she switches to a quiet new verse of the song, “With all that you were,” she sings.

“With all that you were,” he responds, though it’s more of him talking with a lilt than singing.

“With all that you’ll be,” she adds.

“With all that you’ll be,”

“With all that you’ve won and lost,”

He thinks he understands what she’s singing about. “With all that you’ve won and lost,”

“You will always have me.” She ends the song.

“You will always have me.” He replies, and he sounds fond, though he isn’t sure whether she’s trying to find reassurance in him or give reassurance to him.

At the end, she hangs her head to stabilize herself once more. He opens his mouth to let out a quip, but she speaks first.

“I’m sorry, Star, I just need a second—"

“As cute as you are all teary and needy, you’re absurd if you’re apologizing to me.” He clicks his tongue in disapproval. Then, more comfortingly, adds, “I’ve got you. We’ve got each other."

[cosmicjoke]

As Above, So Below

Levi holds the girl secure against his chest, her head cradled to his neck, and moves quickly through the back alleys and side streets of the district, toward his and Furlan’s home.

He already knows what Furlan will say, and he doesn’t care.

The girl was alive, and that’s all that mattered. 

He could help her.  He would.

He’d found her, passed out from hunger, half-drowning in a puddle of sewage.  He’d checked her, like he checked all the children he came across.  Most were already dead by the time he found them.  The ones that weren’t, Furlan was most usually with him, and he would tell Levi no, and Levi would settle then for leaving food or coin.

But she was alive, and Furlan wasn’t with him, and so he’d taken her.

But not before wandering the neighborhood for a good hour, asking about, asking if she belonged to anyone.  No one had laid claim.  He had no thought beyond her immediate rescue.

She’s as light as a bag of bones in his arms.  He knows she’s hardly more than that.

He already knows what Furlan will say, and he doesn’t care.

//

“No.  Levi, no.”

Levi ignores him, laying the girl down on the floor.  He pulls his cloak free, bunching it under her head for a pillow.  He checks her pulse again.  Thready, but it’s still there.

“Lee!”

Furlan stands over him.  Levi can feel the weight of his gaze, accusatory.  Disappointed.

“She needs help,” he finally answers, and hears Furlan’s sigh of frustration.

“She’s already dead,” Furlan snaps. “look at her!  Lee, you can’t keep doing this!”

“She’s alive,” Levi says. “she’s not dead.  Don’t say that.”

“She will be soon enough.  Levi…” Furlan’s voice softens suddenly, pleading instead of angry.  His hand rests on Levi’s shoulder. “look, I know it hurts you.  But listen to me.  We can’t afford this.  We can’t afford another mouth to feed.  It’s bad enough, you throwing away half our haul every time we come across some starving kid.  You know most of them don’t make it, even when you help them.”

Levi frowns, checking the girl for bruising, lifting her arms carefully, rolling the tattered sleeves of her shirt past her elbows.  No track marks, which is good.  Means she isn’t an addict, at least. 

“She’ll make it,” he answers.

Furlan growls in frustration, tearing his hand away.

“Levi, even if you save this girl, what the hell difference will it make!?  The Underground is filled with starving children!  What difference will it make, you saving one in who the hell knows how many?!”

“It’ll matter to her!” Levi finally snaps, agitated as he stands, facing off against the older boy. “I couldn’t just leave her there, Fur!  She’s alive!”

“Yeah.  And?” Furlan steps closer to him, glaring down at him. “Levi, you give half our food away to every kid you come across out there.  You give them our money.  Oh, don’t give me that look!  You think I don’t see you slipping coins to those kids every time you think I’m not watching?  We’re barely scraping by week to week.  Did you think about that when you decided to take this girl in off the street?  You won’t be able to support her and keep up your little acts of charity out there, too.  I won’t let you.”

Levi snarls, turning away, back to the girl.

“I’ll figure it out,” he mutters. “I’ll get us more money.”

“How?!” Furlan presses.

“I’ll pull more jobs.  I’ll get us the money, don’t worry.”

“What, by yourself?”

“Yeah,” Levi says, eyes fixed on the girl.  On the shallow rise and fall of her bony chest.

“God, you and your bleeding heart, Lee!  As if it’s that easy!  What about our crew?  You know we still need to pay them, don’t you?  We can’t afford this!”

Levi grits his teeth.

He knows Furlan is right.  Knows they’re barely able to get by as is.  That he was putting a bigger strain on them by trying to help every little brat he came across out there.  Knew most of them ended up dying anyway.  He just couldn’t… he couldn’t leave her when he knew there was something he could do.

What the hell good was his strength if he couldn’t use it to help people?

He wishes he could explain to Furlan.  Wishes he knew how to put it to words.

That day, when he’d rescued Furlan, and he’d realized he could help�� really help.  That his strength could be used for something better than keeping his own, miserable self going…

He hadn’t known that before.

Nobody had ever told him.

Kenny hadn’t told him.  Hadn’t shown him.  Hadn’t shown him anything but how to hurt and kill.  And that’s all Levi had thought he was good for.  Hurting and killing and keeping his own, miserable self going.

But then he’d rescued Furlan, and he realized he could help.  His strength could help, instead of hurt.  He’d discovered that all on his own. 

Kenny had been a liar and told Levi otherwise.  But Levi had found the truth all on his own.

So fuck you, Kenny, he thinks.  He could help instead of hurt.  He knew that now.  It didn’t have to be just hurt.

“Fur,” Levi says, voice quiet. “I can’t leave her.  She doesn’t deserve that.”

He turns, looking up at his friend.  His first and only friend.

“I’ll get us the money.  I swear.  I won’t let nothin’ happen to us.  You know I won’t.”

Furlan looks tired, mouth turned down at the corners.

Finally, he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’ll make some broth,” he says, resigned. “she shouldn’t eat anything that’s gonna’ be hard for her to digest.  Not until her body’s adjusted.”

Levi feels the tension go out of his shoulders, relief washing over him, powerful enough to make his head light. 

“… Thank you, Fur,” he says.

Furlan doesn’t look happy, but he doesn’t protest anymore.  Just tells Levi to get the girl up onto the couch, to fetch water, see if he can get her to drink any while he makes the broth.

Levi nods, picking the girl back up, careful with her as he carries her to the couch, careful as he lays her down.

She’s so young.  Maybe twelve, thirteen years old.  He can see beneath the filth of her hair that it’s red.  She’ll have lice, but that’s okay.  They have soap for that.  He’ll be able to comb it out.

Her eyes flutter open, green fogged by the bleariness of hunger, dry lips parting as she tries to speak.  They crack and bleed, and Levi frowns.

He remembers. 

He knows what she feels.

“Wh-where…” her voice comes out a rasped whisper.

“You’re okay,” Levi tells her, and takes her hand, holds it tight in his own.

Her eyes search for him, but don’t see, too crushed by the exhaustion of desperation.

Levi lays his palm to her forehead, checking for fever.  Her skin is cool, though.  He doesn’t think she’s ill with disease. 

“Can you hear me?” he asks. “Do you think you can drink?”

Her lips work, the column of her throat bobbing as she swallows.  And then she gives a single, shallow nod, and Levi feels a swell of hope in his heart.

He clasps her hand again.

“Okay,” he tells her. “just hang on.”

He stands to fetch her a ladle of water, and sees Furlan, looking at him from across the space.  The older boy turns away quickly, back to the pot he’s heating over their small coal burner. 

Levi feels a pang of guilt.

Furlan wasn’t wrong to be worried. 

It was hard enough, just surviving as was.  Just the two of them.  Another mouth to feed would only make it harder.

But Levi meant it, when he said he wouldn’t let anything happen.  He would do whatever it took to protect Furlan.  To protect their crew. 

He would work himself into the ground to make up the extra cost.  To make sure none of them went hungry.

He swears it.

He swears.

//

Her name is Isabel Magnolia.  That’s what the girl tells him when she’s strong enough to speak.

She had a mother, but she died not long back, and Isabel hadn’t known how to survive on her own. 

Levi listens to all this with a kind of resigned understanding.  It was the same story for so many of the parentless children running the streets of the Underground. 

It was the same story for him, until Kenny came along.

Kenny hadn’t been there much, Levi remembers. 

Every few weeks, he would come by, spend a few days, teach Levi what he thought he should know, and then leave again.  On and on, until one day, he just never came back. 

So, Levi understands.

And Levi thinks he could do like Kenny, and teach this girl to survive.

He thinks, better still, he could take care of this girl, the way he takes care of Furlan, and make sure she never has to learn the things he did.

//

The weeks pass, and Isabel grows stronger.  Who she really is begins to shine through.  A pistol of a girl with energy to burn. 

She takes to calling Levi “Big Bro”, and Furlan teases him over it with the relentlessness of vengeance.  But Levi can tell even Furlan has begun to grow fond of her.

Levi won’t say, but quietly, there comes a sense of warmth, that the girl looks at him that way.

He wonders if this is what it might have been like, to have a family.  A big brother and a little sister. 

That’s how he thinks of them, he realizes. 

His family.

He smiles to himself at night, when no one is around to see. 

Fervently, he prays, to whatever god there might be, that he’ll always be able to protect them.

[specialagentlokitty]

Negan x reader - people can change

Part 11:

They searched for nearly a week, but there wasn’t any sign of where you had gone.

If you were injured you wouldn’t have gotten very far, and they were now just checking the same spots over and over again.

Negan returned to Lakeshore defeated, and he walked to your cabin, sitting down on the floor as he set your mask down.

He wasn’t expecting to come this close to you, but he had grown used to you being there, and the thought of being able to have dinner with you, almost like a date from the old days had made him happy.

Now, just like everything he had, that all turned to shit.

He sighed, leaning against the wall, looking at the door as it was opened.

“Sorry Negan, I’m just looking for some more papers.” Luke said.

Negan shook his head.

“It’s fine.”

Luke crouched down, going through a box, and he stopped to look at Negan.

“We’re gonna find her. Okay?”

“Let’s keep shit real, it’s been a week. There’s no sign or anything of (Y/N).”

Luke smiled a little.

“You got her name huh? How long did it take you?”

“A few months.”

“Yeah, took me a year, she hated me when we first met. Said I was a stubborn prick.”

“You are, I’ve met you.”

Luke chuckled a little, turning his attention back to the boxes.

“Why not come with me to Alexandria? A few of us are going tomorrow with some supplies, Daryl has been trekking further than us with his bike, might have a lead.”

“What if she comes back here?”

“We’ll know straight away.”

Negan looked around your cabin.

Maybe that’s what he needed to do, just get away for a little while, figure out the next move to finding you.

He didn’t want to stray too far in case you returned and he couldn’t find out, and there was daily communication between here and Alexandria so he would know if you came back.

He knew you would want him to help them rebuild too, hell, you would be helping them rebuild.

“I don’t know man, I just.. I should be out there.”

“I know, but you’ve been out there for a week straight. You need a break.”

Luke set some papers aside, and he picked up a letter, walking over he crouched in front of Negan, holding it out and he took it.

It had his name on, so he opened it.

‘If I should fail to return, I’ll go to Alexandria if I can. It’s the closest. Go there, help rebuild until I come back. Please Negan, show them you’ve changed.’

He chuckled weakly, handing it over to Luke.

“Guess I’m going with you.”

So he did, he went to Alexandria, and he checked all over for you but you weren’t there, so, he did as you asked.

He helped them begin to rebuild what they had lost while he waited for you to come back, and slowly the days began to slip by here as well.

He took his old cell as his home, feeling it was the most fitting place for him to be.

He spent his days working hard, talking to Luke or Cole, or any of the scouts for your whereabouts.

He kept his cloak in his cell but kept your mask and sword on him, ready to return them when you returned.

One of the scouts came jogging in and he looked over.

“What is it?” Negan called.

“Walkers, nearby.”

Negan nodded, grabbing his work knife, pulling it out as he jogged out of the gate, heading with Carol and Gabriel to deal with the walkers.

It was easy work for the three of them, and like always Negan rolled them over to look at their faces.

“That’s a good thing right? That she isn’t there?” Gabriel asked.

“At this point I feel like it would be easier to just know if she’s one of them or not.” Negan grumbled.

He stood up, wiping the blade on his shirt and put it back, looking around.

“She’ll turn up, even you couldn’t kill her, I doubt a few walkers can.” Carol said.

Negan glanced at her but didn’t say anything.

It was strange for them, seeing how panicked he was about not being able to find you, seeing how worried he was about you.

In a way it relieved them to know that Negan cared bout somebody else, that he worried or somebody else, it showed them that he had changed.

He made his way back to where he was working, but he wasn’t able to work long, because when he saw people looking to the hole in the fence he came out to look as well.

It wasn’t you, but he dreaded the face that walked through, and he stared at her before turning to Daryl and the scouts that was with him.

“We picked up some tracks, movin’ this way. More have gone to check the area, if it’s her then she’s trynna stay hidden.” Daryl said.

Cole nodded his head, looking over to Negan as well who nodded, and Maggie looked at him, the sword he was wearing.

“No. Not a fucking chance take that off.”

She pulled out her gun, aiming it at him, and he raised his hands.

“Woah, let’s take a fucking minute here shall we? I haven’t done shit!”

“Y’all just letting him walking around free, with a fucking sword no less?!” She snapped.

Cole and a few scouts stood in front of Negan, hands clasped behind their backs.

“He’s done nothing wrong, as it stands by us Negan is a free man.” Cole said.

“Yeah? And who the fuck are you? Because your people didn’t say shit to me when we were coming back.”

Cole clenched his jaw a little.

“Allies, we made a deal with the communities during the whisperer war. We still hold that deal. And they are not my people, I don’t lead them.”

“Then who the fuck does, because I’d like to speak to whoever thinks they can give a monster like that a weapon.” She sneered.

You stood watching the scene in front of you, slowly lowering yourself to sit down on a fallen metal beam.

“I do, and I suggest you stop pointing your weapon at my people, there are far more than us then there are of you.” You said.

Everybody turned around to face you, me you offered a half wave at them all, pushing yourself back up, limping forward.

The scouts behind you had their hands on their weapons, ready to draw them at your command.

“You gave him a weapon, seriously? Do you know who the fuck that is?”

“I know. And Negan stands part of Lakeshore, which makes him one of my own, a threat to him is a threat to us all.”

You raised your hand, more scouts came out of their hiding places, ready to strike if needed.

Negan pushed past Cole, and he made his way over to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you.

The scouts covered him so Maggie didn’t have a clear line of sight on him.

He placed a hand on the back of your head, another on the lower part of your back, his forehead resting on your shoulder.

“Fucking hell (Y/N)…” he whispered.

You wrapped your arms around him, clutching at his shirt and your knees gave way, and he caught you.

“Easy, easy…” he whispered, “I’ve got you.”

Negan swept you into his arms, taking you over to where he was working and he sat you down in order to get you out of the sun.

He pulled away, looking at your leg, your cloak was covered in blood and smelled horrible, the fabric you tied around your thigh was soaked as well.

“I’d say not as bad as it looks but it.. it’s bad..”

“Here, let me take a look.” Carol said.

You shuffled forward, straightening your leg with a small grunt of pain and she cut your trouser leg, getting a better view of the wound.

It was covered with a bandage that was clearly old.

“Cole do you have anything for this? Did you guys bring any medical stuff?”

“Yeah, yeah Luke brought some with him the other day.”

He jogged away and you placed your hand on Carols shoulder, gesturing for her to move aside and she did.

Maggie was staring at you, her gun lowered this time.

Negan was crouched behind you, his hands on your shoulders, looking at her.

“We are allies to the hilltop, but if you hurt him, if you even lay a finger on him, that deal with your people becomes void, you become enemies of us. Will will attack.”

“How the hell can you trust a monster like him?”

You reached up, placing a hand on Negans, wrapping your fingers around his hand.

“He has earned our trust, he’s worked with us, walked among us, lived with us, he’s never once been a threat. He wants to redeem his ways, and if you don’t want to give him that chance then fine. But what we decide to do with him is none of your concern.”

“You defend him so well, but I bet you don’t know what he’s done. Did he tell you?”

“He didn’t have to. We already knew his story when he came to us, we know he killed your people, your husband, we know he was taking from others, and what he was doing. He tried the same on us and learned his lesson, but when he came to us, it was for us to help him, and that’s what we did.”

You shifted a little, and pushed yourself up despite Negan and Maggie trying to keep you sat down, and you took a few steps closer.

“We have all done things we’re not proud of to survive. We’ve all got blood on our hands. I understand why you’re angry, truly, I do. But you have to accept that he’s a free man now, he is part of Lakeshore, and I protect my people. That means Negan.”

“You can’t protect him forever.”

You shrugged a little.

“Maybe not. But I can protect him until I’m dead, then whoever takes my place will protect him too. That’s the way the world works. He’s found his place with us, and if you make any move to kill him I will find you, and I will kill you myself.”

She clenched her jaw, lowering her gun a little further.

“I don’t want to make the hilltop enemies of Lakeshore. I want to help you rebuild, like we’re doing here. I made a deal with Tara, and in her memory I’d like to keep that deal, so all I’m asking is please don’t make me go back on that now.”

“Maggie.” Daryl whispered.

She looked at him and he nodded his head, so she put her weapon back on her back, and she stormed away.

You sighed in relief, and you limped back to sitting down.

Negan walked over, crouching in front of you.

“You’re a fucking nightmare.”

“Wow, okay. That’s a great way to greet a woman Negan.”

He chuckled a little, lowering his head and he looked up at you with a smile.

He reached up to the mask and you shook your head, so he stopped.

“Not here..” you whispered.

“Alright.. come here…”

Sat next to you, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and he looked at you.

“Ready?”

You nodded and he stood up with you, going at your pace as the pair of you walked through the ruined streets of Alexandria.

You were taking deep breaths through your pain, and he tried to find somewhere to take you, he saw the camp your scouts had set up, then remembered his cell.

That would be the safest place for now, so he took you there, sitting you down on the cot.

Before he could do anything else someone came in to patch your leg up for you and hand you some clean trousers to wear.

He turned around while you changed, and he helped you take your cloak off.

“Hold on, I have a clean shirt in my bag.”

Negan dug through his things until he found one and he tossed it over, turning around again so you could change.

You were still wearing the mask, and he walked over, kneeling down in front of you, reaching up this time, looking at you for permission and you nodded.

Carefully he removed it, grabbing the cloth and bucket so he could clean the dirt on your face.

He moved to your arms, staring on your left arm before moving to your right arm, taking the time to look at the scars that went just below your elbow.

“You hurt anywhere else?”

“No, no just my leg.”

“Good.”

He set the cloth aside, and he held your hand in his.

“What the fuck were you thinking (Y/N)?”

“Something had to be done Negan, I had already planned this that day Luke confronted me.”

“You didn’t think to tell anybody? Get somebody with you?”

You sighed.

“No, because I didn’t want anybody else getting hurt because of what I was going to do. I’m sorry Negan, but I would do it again if I had to.”

He looked down, resting your hand on his forehead.

“You really are a fucking nightmare, shit, what the fuck are we gonna do with you huh?”

He looked up at you and you smiled softly at him, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Here, these belong to you.”

He went to hand you your sword and mask back but you stopped him, placing your hand over his.

“They’re yours. But I did promise to return this.”

You held up his knife and he chuckled.

“All this time and you kept that fucker?”

“A promise is a promise.”

“Yeah. Yeah it is. Keep it for me.”

You set it aside, resting your forehead on his.

He smiled, ghosting a kiss to your knuckles, then let go, placing a hand on the left side of your face, leaning up to kiss you.

You wrapped your arms around your neck, and he placed his other hand on you back, leaning in as much as he could without hurting you or putting pressure on your wound.

You pulled away, and he looked a little disappointed, but he moved back, resting his arms on your knees, gazing up at you.

You pointed to the window, then to the stairs and he nodded his head.

He stood up, sitting next to you, and Maggie came through the cell door, glaring at him before she looked at you.

“We need to talk.” Maggie said.

[bridgyrose]

Fallen Petals sharing a body. Like the body looks like a fusion of them, but they both operate it. They can both speak out of it, they can both control it, but with how much they bicker it'll be a struggle with them controlling it simultaneously.

(Hope you like it)

I told you to be careful!” Cinder yelled out. “Now look at us!” 

Ruby let out a sigh and tried to move her body, only to feel resistance as she tried. “I-I dont like this either. But we’re going to have to work together-” 

“I’m not going to work with you.” 

“We dont have a choice! I dont know what that grimm did to us, but we’re not going to fix ourselves if we dont work together.” 

“And how can I be sure I can trust you?” 

“Because I want to get unfused as much as you do.” Ruby moved her hand this time with no resistance, frowning when she looked at her reflection. 

She still had a silver eye but part of her felt… hollow. Her left arm felt strange, as if it was trying to consume her and she couldnt seem to push aura to it. She moved her hair out of the way to see the eye patch that Cinder had worn still there. She reached to move it, only to feel resistance again. 

Cinder wrestled control of the body and lowered their hand. “You said we need to get moving to fix ourselves. Standing here and looking over our body isnt going to do that.” 

“I just wanted to know how we look.” Ruby felt her spine tingle at the way her voice mixed with Cinder’s every time they spoke, as if it had an unnatural reverb to it. And her clothes felt just as foreign as the rest of her body. Her shorts felt shorter, the way her cloak seemed to taper towards the left, and everything felt more form fitting than usual. “Especially if we’re going to fight anything.” 

“Who said anything about fighting? We’re going straight to Salem and she’ll fix this.” 

“What makes you think she will?” 

“She will!” 

“If we go to Salem, there’s no promise that she’ll separate us. You saw the hound she made, who’s to say she wont do the same thing to us!” 

Flames sprouted from their eye as Cinder kept enough control of their body to smash the mirror in front of them, flames dancing around their fingertips. “She promised me power and freedom. She’ll fix us and then she’ll deal with you.” 

Ruby slowly started to get control again and moved their body towards the window of the small shack they were in. “Vacuo is a mess, there’s grimm everywhere, and there’s not much of a chance that my friends or the people you’ve been working with will even recognize us enough to help. We should start by tracking down the grimm first and seeing if killing it will undo this.” 

“And if it doesnt?” 

“If it doesnt, then… we can try with Salem.”

“And how do you plan to track it?” 

“I-I… I dont know. We can ask around-” 

“You really think anyone is going to answer us while we look like this?” 

Ruby started to pace around the shack as she tried to keep her mind clear. The grimm that had done this had left just as quickly as it had come without anything to track in the first place. Not only that, but her friends were missing and memories that werent hers were blurring into the ones she knew were hers. Growing up in an orphanage without Yang and feeling a phantom pain around her neck. 

Her body quit moving as she felt resistance from Cinder, and then she felt herself almost being pushed back. “Cinder!” 

“If we’re going to find this grimm, we need to get moving and quit pacing around her,” Cinder said as she started to take control, pushing through the resistance that Ruby started to put up. “So quit moping and get moving!” 

“We dont even know where to start! Like you said, no one’s going to answer any questions that we have.” 

“Then we do this my way. I am *not* giving up on my freedom.” 

All resistance Ruby had went away as Cinder wrestled the control she needed for their body to start searching for the grimm. Hearing her conviction made her realize that she had lost her own. She had made too many mistakes, watched a kingdom fall, lost her friends and sister… it was almost easier to let Cinder keep control. 

“We’re going to need to fight the grimm ahead,” Cinder said calmly. “And I need you to help me with your scythe.” 

“R-right,” Ruby said as she pulled their scythe from their back and let it unfold with a flaming blade. She took a deep breath as she helped Cinder swing the scythe around, slicing through the grimm. 

And yet, even as they sliced through the last of the grimm, she let Cinder keep control as they tried to track down that strange grimm, only assisting when asked. It was easier than making any further mistakes. 

[bluedalahorse]

Scattered thoughts about the YR faves as we approach season 3

It’s been a busy week, and then the week before that was busy too, so I’ve been reading but not fully weighing in on many of the season 3 questions that have been starting to bubble up on my dash. So I’m posting the thoughts swirling around in my mind about my two favorite characters (Sara and August) just so that my thoughts can exist somewhere other than my own head.

People are starting to discuss the question of Sara and Simon reconciling again, and I think I might have to address that in another post of its own. I spent an entire semester of grad school looking at how characters reconcile in fiction, and obviously I think a lot of it is going down to Simon’s needs and priorities and decisions, so obviously I have Thoughts. (I also have minimal patience for fans who want Sara to crawl over a football field’s worth of broken glass for Simon if that is what Simon doesn’t want himself.)

I feel like one of the questions surrounding August’s character arc are whether there is hope for him to own his actions and change one day, or whether he’s only going to get worse, and never be able to break his cycles of awfulness. Some folks argue that season 2 put that question to rest and that he’s unchangeable. I argue that the question is still in play. The more complex reasons are in my restorative justice post, but I also argue that it would be incredibly strange writing to take one of your show’s most dynamic characters and have his character arc stagnate and go nowhere new in season 3. Now, he could choose to turn over a new leaf in season 3, or he could triple down on his harmful decisions. The point is I think it would have to be another choice, and if he makes the decision to embrace harming others and himself, it would have to be a tragic choice, and not something we can be smug about because we Already Knew He Was Evil. I dunno, there’s this like… sometimes there’s this tendency in other fandoms to gloat and be like “I, Unlike The Other Girls, was not distracted by this broody brunette man’s hotness, and I realized he was bad all along. One hundred points to me for not clamoring for a redemption arc.” And like, yes, it’s fun to laugh at Dude Watchin’ With the Brontës once in a while (I laugh at it!) but I think we also have to acknowledge that fiction is about people growing and changing and we as media enjoyers sometimes become invested in character arcs. It just feels weird to me that fans would gloat about like… the supposed moral superiority of not being invested in a character arc that the show clearly wants us to be invested in.

If August is always going to cause harm and he is unable to change his ways, then he may continue to target Simon with the drugs and the blackmail. But he may also choose to target Sara, especially if he finds out she called the police on him. He has pictures and information he can use against her now, and I feel like that is probably, very likely what the show would do to show us that he is Too Far Gone. Frankly I find that terrifying. What I find even more terrifying is that I know there will be fans (probably those who use anonymous messages on the more public facing blogs) who will say that Sara “deserves it” because she “knew he was bad when she had sex with him.” Like. Can we agree not to do that as a fandom, and call it out when we see it? Because I’m pretty sure that Lisa would not write a storyline like that while cackling and going “haha that bitch Sara got what’s coming to her.” I’m pretty sure if Lisa writes something like that she’ll want us to feel sympathy for Sara too. And I mean, you don’t have to feel sympathy, but using the cloak of anonymity to express open misogynistic malice would be… yikes.

I also think that if the show is making the decision to say that August is always going to cause harm, that he’s never going to escape a cycle of harming himself and others and fall in to patterns of abuse, then we should want to see Sara reconnect with others in season three and find some sort of healing or connection. I guess that doesn’t have to be her finding connections with Simon. It could be! It could also be Felice, or Linda, or Maddie, or anyone. (I’m really hoping Sara will get to connect with Wilhelm.) But there’s good in wanting her to find connections, and for wanting her to know that there is a path forward in life that isn’t total isolation or like, packing herself off to the convent to atone forever. Especially if the message about August is that he’s somehow unable to change and is just that awful. If your view of August is that he’s so monstrous or unforgivable, so caught in dangerous patterns that it was wrong for Sara to get close to him at all, then we need to view Sara’s relationship with him as something that put her in danger, even when she chose a relationship with him at first. And one of the ways you stay out of danger is by having strong connections to other loved ones. Abuse works because the abuser uses isolation as a weapon. Also, presuming the show reaches the verdict that August is an abuser who can’t change—even if August and Sara never talk to one another again, Sara being friendless in other ways just sweeps the path clear for the next abuser to swoop down on her. I hope people would recognize that as a tragedy too.

If, however, the show goes in the direction of like… August takes his first steps toward making better decisions, and gets some therapy or rehab or whatever else, then ultimately his past relationship with Sara might play an indirect role in that, and in helping August see alternatives to his current way of being. I’m not saying the simple act of falling in love redeems someone for wrongs done. It doesn’t! (Young Royals actually does a lot to subvert that as a narrative, which is something I address when I talk about Wilhelm, again in my restorative justice post.) I’m saying Sara was the only damn person on the show in season 2 who told August it would be good for his soul to confess and attempted to support him in that, however imperfectly. Every other teenager who knew what August did (Wilhelm, Felice, Alexander) took it for granted that he wouldn’t confess—and, you know, fair on Wille and Felice’s part, but also Alexander couldn’t have gone to an adult, huh? Every single adult that August talked to about the video (Kristina, Rickard) insisted he keep quiet about it, scared him into it even. It takes more than one person in a community to hold someone accountable for wrongs done, and Hillerska as a community has repeatedly failed that test. I don’t know, I keep looking at that promo picture of August alone in his room and wonder if he’s practicing the breathing exercises Sara taught him. They don’t have to be together again for that to be the case. Maybe the memory of her will be helpful to him in some way.

Ultimately I don’t—at the moment—really care about whether August goes to jail or not. People will interpret this as me saying “I don’t think August should go to jail” and that’s not actually what I’m saying. It’s just that I find the question of whether he’s capable of change or not infinitely more interesting, and the role the system/Hillerska plays in encouraging that change (or not) infinitely more interesting than the question of what the specifics of August’s “punishment” or “consequences” might be. “Consequences” can be him living with the crushing knowledge of how deeply he hurt Wilhelm and Simon and Sara and Felice for the rest of his life, and trying to move forward in a different way from now on knowing he can never undo the past. “Punishment” can be August becoming king but being completely unable to change his ways and connect with other humans and feel any sense of agency in his life. There are multiple ways to address his arc—whether he’s awful or whether he’s willing to atone—that don’t rely on the legal system providing narrative catharsis all by itself, and frankly I’d prefer that it didn’t. (There’s a longer reason why but I feel like I keep linking my restorative justice post.)

To sum up… if these characters’ arcs go in a really tragic direction, I hope people don’t gloat and go “I knew they were terrible all along, unlike those other fans.” And if they go in a more positive directions, I hope we don’t hear the chorus of “they didn’t deserve it!” even if that arc is beautifully, complexly, and compellingly written. (Here are my thoughts on the way fandoms use the word deserve, by the way. It seems I have written about this before and am just becoming a parody of myself at this point.)

[writingsofwesteros]

Rhaenyra’s daughter obeys the letter her mother sent and travels to king’s landing. She hasn’t been since she was a girl. And it looks so different to her. Odd…. Especially with how many Gold Cloaks patrol it. When she enters the keep she isn’t greeted by the Queen, or her mother. Instead she finds Helaena. Helaena says few words but she’s pleased to see her.

The girl does wonder where her mother is though…. And where Helaena’s sister, her other aunt can be found. And the Queen!

She also wonders why Daemon is the one she’s taken to meet. He sits in a chair, with his Gold Cloaks standing by him, telling her she is most welcome. She thanks him and asks why her mother isn’t present. He assures her that she’ll see her later when she settles. And just to enjoy herself for now. Odd wording but she curtsies and turns to leave. When she almost runs smack into someone’s chest.

“Oh nephew, did I mention who arrived?”

She looks up to see Aemond staring down at her intensely. She shivers and backs up a little. Daemon says isn’t it pleasant that she’s here? It’s been so long. Aemond nods stiffly. His eye still piercing her. She finds a way to excuse herself and get away. Her brother had told her how terrifying he was. He’s gotten tall. His features so sharp and severe. And that gaze…. She felt as if he was trying to see right through her.

Eventually she begins to wonder why she hasn’t seen many of the royals. Where they could possibly be. And so she decides to just find them herself. Oh would she come to regret it….

As she walks through the halls she hears strange noises. And a voice.

“Mother?”

She walks towards it. It seems to be coming from Aegon’s chambers. What would her mother be doing there. She opens the door just slightly. And almost faints at the sight she sees. Her lady mother, stripped naked and bound, legs in the air and Aegon between them, thrusting like a madman.

Rhaenyra is gasping and moaning and occasionally she begs him to cease. But the begging just spurts Aegon on.

“All my damn life, you were father’s favorite huh? Perfect Rhaenyra can do no wrong.” He slaps one of her tits. Making her cry out. And gives a hard thrust for good measure. “Who’s perfect now? You desperate whore. You’re clenching my cock like you enjoy this. You like men locking you in their chambers and having their way with you, don’t you slut?”

“P-Please Aegon not- ooh! Don’t… you can’t… it’s been d-days no more- hah!”

Aegon pouts angrily and bites her breasts. Thrusting hard, as if he’s trying to stab her through her cunt with his cock.

“Don’t be a lying bitch. You’re better this way. Having all those brown haired bastards. Who knows if Harwin fathered them all? You probably spread yourself for the whole Strong house you slut.” He slaps her other breast and begins rubbing her clit. “Did he fuck you like this? Did he tie you down and use your cunt proud bitchy cunt?” Rhaenyra gasps and shudders. “Clearly not well enough.” Aegon smirks.

He wraps his arms around her and leans into her, his face on her breasts. “Take it you whore! This is all you’re good for! Perfect Rhaenyra perfectly taking cock! You still have a working womb, don’t you slut? You’re gonna have more bastards. Proper white haired ones. Let’s see how perfect you are then!”

Rhaenyra’s daughter slowly backs away in horror. Partly at Aegon’s words and actions. But also at seeing the way her mother has began to react. No! No she can’t be enjoying it, it’s by force! She must find the queen! She’ll put Aegon in line. She runs to the Queens chambers and bursts in. Only to find another shocking sight.

Queen Alicent completely naked and surrounded by gold cloaks, eagerly pleasuring them in any way she can.

“See something you like, do you?” One of the guards laughs at her. She slams the door and runs. The Queen now too?! What is happening here! Maybe… Daemon! She met with Daemon earlier. She’ll tell him his guards took advantage of the Queen just as Aegon did Rhaenyra. She can’t believe Daemon is looking like the voice of reason.

Oh what a mistake that is.

The door isn’t even locked. So she bursts in. Foolishly. And gets her third shock of the night.

Daemon in bed with her aunt. The princess. Fucking her eagerly from behind as she moans and clutches the sheets as if she’s never felt anything so good. Rhaenyra’s daughter even sees in shock…. Her breasts have grown, and when Daemon squeezes them, she swears a little milk comes. And her belly is swollen near to bursting. Her aunt is with child?

And being fucked by Daemon!

“Ah, need something?” Daemon asks. “If you need my help you’ll have to ask later, I’m in the middle of someone right now.”

She stammers and slowly backs up, asking what he’s done.

“Oh me? I knocked up the Princess, and then broke her in. She knows you’re here and knows who you are. It’s just my cock is more important to her. She’s so soon to have my bastard, seems she’s gotten extra sensitive. Needs so much attention. You’ve come here at the perfect time, you and Helaena can attend her.”

He hold the hips of the princess and gives her ass a slap. “Of course I’ll need more bastards from her…. Many more.” He purrs.

Rhaenyra’s daughter runs for it. She doesn’t understand what’s happening. Are all the women in the keep cock slaves now? Not Helaena surely. So it’s Helaena she’ll run to.

It’s been years though. And her grasp of the locations of rooms here has slipped. Or the map given to her was wrong….

She bursts into a room, still wearing her nightgown, sees a silhouette and immediately falls to her knees before them, telling them everything. But the silhouette remains silent. She feels a hand on her head. That isn’t Helaena’s hand. She looks up, and is once again met by the piercing gaze of Aemond. He stands up and she’s now on her back as he looks down at her.

“U-Uncle….” She shivers. But then she gasps. He isn’t wearing much clothing. It’s late at night she realizes that. But through the clothing she sees it. And she knows what it means. His cock is hard. Painfully hard. She doesn’t move as he takes it out and she almost gasps. It’s quite intimidating. Just like the rest of him. He often looks so composed but for once she swears he looks…. Desperate. Like he’s been eager for so long with no satisfaction.

She crawls away slightly. But he moves quick and tears her nightgown away.

“Every damn night…. I hear them. Every damn day… he rubs my sister’s belly as if that’s some accomplishment.” Aemond growls. “Any man could have a bastard. See a lady…. swollen with his child…. Have her body be fully his….”

As he speaks, Rhaenyra’s daughter notices his cock twitch. Is he…. Desiring that?

Aemond grabs her hands and positions himself between her legs. He says he’ll just have one go…. He can allow himself to slip up once…. She’s already a bastard. No one will notice if her maidenhead is gone.

Before she can protest, suddenly he pushes his cock inside her. She gasps and throws her head back. He can go deep. And he stretches her in ways she’s never been stretched. She feels so painfully full of her uncle’s cock. Wait her uncle’s….

She looks up at him in shock to protest, but suddenly he’s moving his hips and the only thing coming from her mouth are gasps and cries. He thrusts hard and desperately, but he angles purposely to hit a spot that makes her dizzy. She tries to protest.

“U-Uncle please… take it out… y-you’re splitting me apart! T-Take it out! Not- not there! Please uncle don’t- ah!”

Her begging oddly spurs him on, and he groans and grabs her hips fucking hard into her. Enthusiastically ruining her virtue.

“Oh seven hells, your bastard cunt is squeezing me so tight niece! Trying to milk my cock already?”

He smirks and pounds harder. If he’s throwing away self control then he’ll go all the way. Wrapping a hand around her neck and bracing her legs against his shoulders. The new angle makes her both squeal and cry in pain. She tries to move away but he seems to only use that to aid his thrusting.

Oh is this how her mother felt? The Queen? Did her aunt feel this way when Daemon stole her virtue, as he surely did. Would she be that soon? Swollen belly, eagerly moving her hips against Aemond as he ruts on her like a breeding bitch.

“U-Uncle!” She gasps. “Pull… pull out! Don’t spend yourself inside of me! We can’t! C-Can’t have… I’ll be with child, don’t!”

Those words were a terrible mistake. Sometimes awakes in Aemond. A gleam of purpose in his eye. And suddenly she’s clutched so tightly, her cunt aching from the aggressive assault as he shoves himself in and out even more eagerly with strength she didn’t know he had. She moans and cries and makes noises that might put whores to shame. He holds her down tightly as he presses insides. She feels him twitching in her poor sore cunt. And feels his seed seeping into her. It’s too late now.

She watches him slowly pull himself from her. Her cunt no doubt looking sore and broken to him. His cock slick with a little of her maiden’s blood, his seed, and shamefully, the signs of jet arousal. He grabs a handful of hair hair and pulls her close.

“Clean it, bastard slut.”

She’s forced to taste everything on his cock, her blood, his seed, her…. Shame. But he pulls her back suddenly. Telling her no no. He won’t be spending himself ANYWHERE else, until that womb is properly full. He lifts her and drops her on the bed. Much more comfortable than the floor he just took her on. But she sees him standing over her. An eager look in his eye. As his cock gets hard again.

It is days upon days that he takes her. She can’t count herself a maiden in any sense of the word soon. Her terrifying uncle seems so oddly eager to fill her with his seed. When he finishes he sometimes kisses her deeply, claiming her mouth too with his tongue just as eagerly and aggressively as he claims her cunt with his cock. Over and over. She does find herself bent over many times. Just like her aunt was. And just like Daemon was rutting at her aunt, so to is Aemond with her. She didn’t know how deep this position lets him go! She swears she can almost feel him right by her womb when he finishes. There’s no chance his sees is anywhere else. He’s very taken to squeezing her breasts and rubbing her belly.

Talking with more eagerness than she’s ever seen about how she’ll look when she’s full. Bred. Claimed. His.

Jace warned her about their uncle. Said he was mad. But oh god, she was never prepared for the cock he had! That damn thing she was becoming so accustomed to inside her…. How well it found the weakness in her womanly parts…. The painful feeling of his ravaging making her tingle inside.

One night finally Aemond gets up, pulls an old shirt of his on her and takes her with him. She’s still unsteady on her legs and a little hazy. Letting him lead her. Where he leads her, she sight shocks her. Queen Alicent surrounded by Gold Cloaks, currently fitting two at a time in her cunt and throwing her head back in pleasure while the others touch and toy with her body. Her mother Rhaenyra tied up and gagged while Aegon has the time of his life. Touching and degrading her however he sees fit. And at the head of the room…. Now she understands.

Daemon. Sitting on a chair as if it’s a throne. Bouncing her heavily pregnant and desperate aunt on his cock. He caused all this. But before she knows it she’s braced against a wall.

“I see you like my gift nephew.” Daemon smirks.

Alicent is too full to notice or care. Rhaenyra does see her and looks like she’s about to say something. Until Aegon forces her to orgasm and her eyes roll back, legs shaking. Her aunt only has eyes for Daemon, and whimpers and moans for more of his attention.

“Maybe soon…. You’ll have your own whore full of bastards.” Daemon rubs her aunt’s belly. “That’s what you want isn’t it nephew…. Give that bastard girl proper white haired babes. Right?”

He’s found Aemond’s weakness. And he eagerly takes out his cock and sheathes it in Rhaenyra’s daughter again. Holding her tight and dominating her mouth with his tongue as he does. The sight in this room shocked her. And Daemon all but said it… Aemond intends to see her pregnant. But that feels less important. All she can think of is the feeling as her uncle Aemond’s raw cock ravages her sore for the hundredth time since he took her maidenhead. Feeling his tongue in her mouth and his hand on her neck…..

She moans in his mouth as her eyes roll back and her legs shake, just as her mother’s did. Going over the edge and orgasming around his cock. Oh the poor girl. Tried so hard to resist her terrifying uncle. But her body betrays her now. Aemond can feel it and it fills him with an eager fire. Soon she’ll be as cockdrunk and desperate for him as his sister is for Daemon.

Perhaps Daemon’s rule isn’t so bad…..

ALL OF THIS! Poor thing just walking into the many depraved scenarios happening .

Aemond losing control would be so hot to see, like an animal rutting into his mate.

[herearedragons]

Cold Water (chapter 9: Blue)

AO3 | chapter 1 | next chapter

Spoiler warning: spoilers for one of Edér's possible epilogues and the Dyrford section of the game.

In the morning, Selene helps him feed the chickens. She picks them up one by one, stares at them for a second and puts them back down, reporting that their thoughts are happy and nothing’s bothering them.

They trade jokes as they make breakfast.

Neither of them say anything about last night or about Cayron’s Scar, and Edér is just fine with that.

It’s good. Normal. 

Around midday, Rynfre’s kid shows up at the door and tells them they’re not allowed in the village square until sundown.

“So they’re putting us under house arrest,” Selene says, but he can see that she’s smiling a little.

“Better stay put, then,” Edér says. “There’s some serious folks out here; wouldn’t wanna mess with them. This one, specially.”

The kid giggles when he points at her, and Selene nods, as if recognizing the danger:

“You’re right. We should bribe her with something, to get on her good side.”

They send her off with one of the cookies he has left over from when the neighbors visited a few days ago.

The hours before sundown pass faster than he expects - the way they always do, somehow, when Selene’s around. They talk, and they make dinner; then he remembers he needs to make some changes to the letter she’ll be taking to Defiance Bay for him when she leaves.

He spends some time rewriting it while Selene sits in the same room and works on some arrows. She never stopped fletching her own, even though she can buy as many as she needs now; keeps her grounded, she says, and it’s something to keep busy with.

Sitting in silence with her feels just as good as talking.

Later, Edér walks her through some more dance steps - and from there, it’s not long until sundown.

Selene goes to change before they leave. When she comes back, she’d put on a nicer shirt and a pretty blue vest he hasn’t seen before; the tail of her enchanted blue cloak is wrapped around her waist and tucked into her belt, making something halfway between a sash and a skirt.

He tells her she looks great. She smiles like he said something funny.

“Thanks; you look great, too.”

He’s wearing his good clothes, but that’s about it.

He could never figure out growing flowers, but that’s what friendly neighbors with better gardens are for; while she was changing, he went outside and got a pretty blue one. He figured she’d wear something blue.

Edér holds it out to her:

“Here; you can put it in your hair.”

She thinks for a moment, then takes it. He watches her fiddle with it, braiding the long stem into a lock of her hair and tucking it behind her ear so that the bloom rests just over one of her horns. 

It’s really, really cute.

When they finally make it to the square, it becomes clear that the village folk really have outdone themselves this time around: there are the ribbons and candles he’s used to seeing, but this time they put up a full wooden stage with poles around it, and more ribbons, and… boards hammered together and painted to look like the houses in the village.

Turns out, the surprise they were told about is a play performed by the kids, complete with music from the usual band. Rynfre’s girl walks out onto the stage, grinning, with her face painted blue and a little headband with something like Selene’s horns on it.

The play is nothing like what actually happened with the cult, and, honestly, he’d be concerned if it was. It’s a nice version of the story - the kind of story parents would tell their children to explain what happened and why so many of their neighbors are gone. In this one, the Skaenites are chased out of the village, not killed; Lord Harond’s daughter is kidnapped by the cult for no reason other than they’re evil, and no harm comes to her before she’s saved by the Watcher and her friends.

Selene gets a strange look on her face when she sees the blue-painted girl, but as the play goes on, it seems to win her over; by the end, she’s laughing and clapping with the rest of them.

When it’s over, she tells him:

“It’s not what happened, but it’s a way to remember it.”

There’s food and drinks. Selene doesn’t drink at all - does weird things to her cipher stuff - and, remembering her telling him years ago how being drunk makes your thoughts louder, he drinks half as much as he normally would.

The band starts playing.

Edér invites her to dance.

It’s different than stomping around in his backyard. There’s music and candles and other people, and she’s looking up at him with the flower he gave her in her hair and her enchanted cloak is catching the firelight in a weird shimmery way; there’s almost too much to look at, too many things that catch his eye all at once.

Selene knows the steps well for someone who learned them just the night before. At first there’s a concentrated frown on her face, but it smooths out before the first song really picks up; by the time they’re halfway through it and her hand slides from his elbow to his wrist so he can spin her around, she does it like she's been dancing her whole life.

He gets what she meant, now, about fighting together. Every time she moves, he knows exactly where she’s going to end up, even when their minds aren’t touching.

The pairs get switched up. He ends up with Rynfre and manages to get a couple of words in about how great her girl was in the play; out of the corner of his eye, he sees Selene dancing with someone else. Some woman, long dark hair; hard to see her face.

The song ends, and there’s a small break where some of the dancers decide to tap out, and others make their way to whoever they’ve promised this next dance to.

Selene finds him quickly. She’s smiling; her hair is a little messy and he’s pretty sure she’s a little flushed - the blue on her cheeks is a deeper color than usual.

“How’d you do?” Edér asks.

“I think I’m having fun,” she says.

They go in for the next song. By the time it ends, his heart is pounding and he’s getting lightheaded - the ale catching up to him after all, or maybe he just hasn’t put that much effort into dancing in a long time - and he decides now’s as good a time as any.

He asks Selene if she wants to take a break.

She says:

“Alright.”

And he takes her away from the village square.

[fertilize-my-eggs]

King of decay ch.3

Kidnapped a new bride

A03 ch.1 ch.2 ch.4

A/N: trigger warning this chapter get violent, shigaraki is misogyny violent individual so you have been warned!! Reader get sexually assaulted by him.

“ YOU KILL MY FAMILY!! YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!! "You're sobbing on my back as I enter the kingdom, I smirk as I tilt my head at you.

“ Well maybe if you were single and pure this wouldn't happen. ” you blink a few times as you slam your fist on my back in rage.

“ FUCK YOU!! GO TO HELL! ” I hear you screaming loudly calling me all these names as I shrugged it off.

You're so adorable when you're aggressive, it turns me on… I smirk as I slap your ass hard.

“ if you keep this up, I'll send you to my doctor to get you fixed… would you like your ill mind to go under surgery?  ” you gasp as you stare at me in anger.

“ What the hell is that supposed to mean? Let's go!!! I'll have the king send you to the dungeon!! ” I chuckle at you as I smirk wide as I look directly at you.

“ … I am the king. What do you think you're here at my kingdom? ” I tilt my head at you as you suddenly pause as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

“ your…. You're…. ” you begin sobbing heavily as you cover your face with your hands.

“ you're worse than the original…” I rolled my eyes at your statement as it was close to morning, it's probably like one am.

“ sweetheart.. at least I didn't starve you and the village like he did.. ”

“ Still, that doesn't matter!!! You murdered my family for no reason. ”

“ no there is a reason baby~ ” you tilt your head as we're getting closer to my master bedroom.

“ What do you mean?!?? ”

“ well see my hands on your cute body? ” You thought about it as you looked at me.

“ yeah and? ”

“ I'm cursed with decay so it doesn't affect you when my hands touch your skin.. meaning you're the only one but everything can easily decay just by me touching them with these hands.”

“ you're immune to my curse and the reason is to make you my bride and to bring heir into this kingdom.” I smirk at you sinisterly. 

“ You'll be my queen… a special diamond for me to keep, I'll treat you well. ” you roll your eyes as you lean your head downward in pain.

“ you…. Kill my son Leon and my daughter… Felicity.. you monster. ” 

“ You should be grateful that you can survive this curse that I deal with. ”

“ be grateful?? I didn't know you existed until you bump into me.. just… ” you cry out.

“ Please just murder me so I can rest without this misery. ” I huff out air as I grab the door knob as I hear soft humming as I sighed in annoyance.

I look forward to seeing the maiden leader toga himiko as she skips freely towards me.

What the hell is she doing at this hour?

She bowed her head as I heard you plead for her help.

“ good night your Majesty~ what ya doing? ” I tilt my head as I hold you tight so you won't escape. 

“ nothing… just found myself a bride~. ” toga gasp as she clapped her hands together.

“ ohh how romantic your majesty!! Are you two going to make sweet love? ” her sinister  smile wide as her eyes narrowed in pure evil and joy.

I smirk at her as I tap your thighs.” not yet, I'm planning on marrying her and we'll do it on our honeymoon... Well I have this planned for a new child to rule this kingdom.“

Himiko gasps loudly as she puts her hands on her cheeks.

“ that wonderful your highness-..”

“ you two… are insane.”

“.... ignore her maiden, she's just a bit tired and needs rest… right my beautiful wife? ” I give you a sinister stare as you close your lips tight.

“ As I was saying.. for this honeymoon, she’ll be locked in my room for days until she's pregnant with my first child. ” tilt my head as I think, putting my thumb on my lip.

“ planned on having five or more children with her. ” your eyes widen by this as you softly cry, you grip my red cloak. 

“ aww such a big family your highness!! How sweet and romantic~!!! ” She cooed sweetly as she said.

“ I bet the children will come out as beautiful as you fair bride!! ” toga sweetly coo at you as you had a disgusting look towards her.

“ Be gone maiden, I have to rest well.. let's the others know there will be a wedding tomorrow afternoon. "She's bowing her head as she has a smile on her face.

“ as you wish your Majesty~!! ” I smile as I open the door heading inside as toga skip off to tell the kingdom about the wedding tomorrow.

I lock my door as you slap my back weakly. 

“ you're a monster… I won't give you anything!! ” I smirk at you as I put you down.

“ we’ll see about that, my love~. ” I yawn out as I grab you by the hair as you're screaming in pain.

“ WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME LET ME GO, IT'S HURTS!!! ” I look down at you with a smirk.

“ you're flirty, I can't have you sleeping on my sheet with these old rags.”

“ stop stop stop!! Let me go, let me go immediately, it hurts.” I rolled my eyes as I dragged you into the restroom.

It's was massive as I ripped your clothes off, the decaying helped a lot easier as I saw your naked body.

I bite my lips as it's the first time I'm seeing a woman being nude in front of my eyes as I lick my lips.

I removed my clothes immediately as you scream.” no no no! I'm not letting you take advantage of me. ”

I chuckle as I grip your wrists tight as I lean in.” relax woman, we're taking a bath. I won't do anything… yet until our honeymoon begins. ” I kiss your neck as I pull you close.

“ This is what husband and wife do together, right? Spend time together and have rough intercourse like animals of the night? ”

You grind your teeth together as you growl.” you're not my husband… ”

“ not yet until tomorrow. Let's enjoy our first time taking a bath and you sleep naked with me.. ” I widened my smile.

“ I'll let you wear anything you want but in my bed, you'll sleep naked. ” 

“ as if!!! I would rather be dead than be near you!! ” I chuckle as I drag you into the bath where I focus you to clean. 

You whine as you begin to scratch my skin as I get into the tub, pulling you onto my lap.

I put on shampoo as I began to scrub your hair and body parts. You didn't like how my hands touch inappropriately as you slap my hands away when it was getting close to your crotch area.

I pull your waist closer to my chest as I coo at you.

“ I'll destroy your mindset and you'll become my loyal obedient wife to play with. ” you gulp as you stay still and I gently rub soap on your skin.

I press a kiss on your neck as I grip your hips tight, moving it back and forth on top of my cock, I smile softly with low hooded eyes as I bite my lips.

Soon… soon I'll impregnate you but not yet.

I groan loudly feeling your bare butt touch my hard thick cock.

“ not yet.. I promise~. ” I coo at you as I hold  you still from leaving, I lean on your shoulders as I begin to rub your breast.

I pinched and pulled your nipples as you gasp out.

“ please… stop.. I don't want-.. ” I pull you into a heat kiss as I wish to take my virginity away by sticking it inside your sweet warm wall but not right now.

I groan away as I begin to clean myself as you squirm on my lap.

Once I think we're finished as I pull you up and begin to dry you off, you would slap my hand when I touch your bare ass.

“ You will let me touch whatever I want!! You're my bride and I own your body as the king!! ” I raise my voice as you flinch by my reaction as I growl at you.

You're scared by this reaction and you realize there is no way to escape from me.

Once we're dry off our bodies, I grab your wrist to drag you into the bedroom as I throw you into the bedsheets.

I pounce on top of you as I begin to wrap my arms around your body as I hear you begging and pleading quietly. 

Tomorrow will be an amazing day as I whisper sweet nothing into your ear as I cuddle your body close.

[hornedadvance]

Horned Advance

Chapter Q1 - Red

This chapter takes place a while before the current main story.

Dear Diary,

Hi hi, It’s Quinn! Checking in once again before bed. It’s been a while since I met Paly, but she still won’t open up to me. It took long enough for her to tell me her name alone, and I had to coax THAT out of her with milk and cookies! It’s a shame really, because she has the most beautiful red eyes but she always keeps them concealed, either looking to the ground and letting her hair droop over her face or avoiding eye contact entirely. I wish she’d understand that her red eyes are what makes her special! I wish I had red eyes like hers. I’d be the talk of the town! They’d call me red eyed Quinn…I’m bringing her some bread mama and papa helped me bake today. Hopefully she’ll let me past her tough shell if I keep feeding her.

Yours truly, Quinn.

—

Dear Diary,

Guess who?! Yep… You’re right… It’s me Quinn. I showed Palo some drawings I did today. I scribbled them down with papa’s pen but filled them in with red paint I got from mister smith down the road. I wasn’t very proud of them, but when Paly saw my drawings of my little imaginary hero fighting off beasties cloaked in red her eyes lit up for the first time since we met. I couldn’t stop smiling since then. I was smiling SO much that mama and papa kept asking me what happened when I got home. I’ll never tell them though, I promised Palo I’d keep her a secret even if it killed me! Yours artistically, Quinn.

—

Dear Diary,

It’s me again! Sorry. Not too much variety around here, I know. Anyways. Today I told Palo I couldn’t come out for a while, because mama and papa were sick and I needed to take care of them. I lied! I feel pretty bad about it too. Mama and papa always told me never to lie. BUT! This time I lied with GOOD REASON! I am starting work on my secret little project. A gift for Palo. I want to make her a dashing red cloak, just like the heroes from my drawing… It’s starting slowly. I’ve never sewn before, and I’m asking mama to teach me each day. I’m very clumsy, and I prick my finger more than I do the cloth… But I’m still determined! If I can see her pretty red eyes light up again, just like before, I’m sure it will be worth it. I’ve been giving the town tailor all of the pastries I’ve been making for cloth and thread. It SUCKS to not have the pastries myself… But sharing them with Palo later will make up for it. I’ll report back to you with my progress!

Yours hungrily, Quinn.

—

Dear Diary,

It’s DONE! My masterpiece… A cloak of beautiful red, just like Palo’s eyes. I couldn’t make it all of the same cloth, so it’s a little patchy. And the threadwork is… Mama says it's great, but I think she’s just being nice. I tried my hardest making it, and it feels comfy to wear at least. Now I’m starting to worry… Hopefully Palo will like it, I will be really sad if it doesn’t make her happy. All of my pocket money went on this project! If it doesn’t make her feel like I want it to I’d be devastated… I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow. See you then!

Yours anxiously, Quinn.

—

Dear Diary,

Today I gave the cloak to Palo. My hands were shaking a little as I handed it to her, and this time I was the one avoiding her eyes. I felt bad to be so avoidant after pushing her to open up to me all this time, but I hope she’ll forgive that. I was expecting her to be unimpressed, underwhelmed or some sort of disgusted… But like magic, as I handed it to her, a sparkle washed over her eyes, and for the first time since we met her face went red. I could see the tears start to pool in her eyes, and a shaky smile form on her face. She leapt onto me and cuddled me tightly for a minute or two. She’d never even touched me outside of sharing food until now, so I was shocked but I reciprocated her warm hug until she pulled back from me. I was hoping that the cloak hadn’t torn or anything in the process, and to my relief it was fine aside from a few creases. I helped her put it on and it reached perfectly just down past her waist, with furls around the neck and a cool spiky pattern on the bottom. Even with the messy cloth colours and patterns, the red in her eyes seemed to match the cloak perfectly. It suited her like a charm, and for the first time since we met, she grinned happily at me, just as I had done to her all this time.

Yours happily,

Quinn.

Link to All Chapters

[maybankwrites]

Killing Time (Sihtric x Edyt AU)

iv. Oral

Sihtric and Edyt find themselves spending months on end in a small room together when Guthred sells their Lord Uhtred. Bored and alone they find various ways to kill their time.

AO3

Word Count: 1643

Warning: Smut

Part Four of Killing Time. Sihtric notices that as Yule draws nearer Edyt becomes increasingly more tense. Determined to help her relax and take her mind off the people she misses in Wessex, he introduces her to a side of sexual pleasure she had yet to explore.

Edyt pulled her cloak tight around her as she stood in the open window watching as more snow fell onto the land below. She didn’t move when the door behind her opened, having seen Sihtric pass over the ridge and approach the inn. His footsteps stop just behind her, his arms encircling her waist. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she relaxed back into his embrace. 

“Right now,” she told him, still staring off into the cold distance, “priests and lords preparing are flock to Winchester.”

“To celebrate Yule?” he asked. Edyt shook her head, finally looking up at him.

“Christmas,” she responded, a fond smile finding its way to her lips, “Uhtred says your Yuletide celebrations are far more enjoyable, but I find there is nothing like spending the Christmas season with those you love.”

“You miss them, don’t you?” he asked, “The people you left behind in Wessex.” 

“Yes,” Edyt nodded, leaning her head back against his chest, “when Uhtred talked of heading north, I didn’t think it’d be for so long. Just like every year, in three days time, Lord Odda’s party shall arrive in Winchester. We always arrived before the other lords. When Aethelred was king, it often felt as if we spent more time in Winchester than we did in Devonshire.”

“Did you like Winchester?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I do,” she sighed, “Father used to complain about all the prayers. He said that prayers killed his knees, and Cenric always said it was because he was old. Every year, Eanflaed would go to the market with Father and help him pick out fabric for my new dress and Cenric’s wife would make it in the spring.”

Sihtric smiled down at her, letting her reminisce about the people she left behind.

“Aelswith would take a break from eating as her husband must and she and I would enjoy a small feast after prayers one day,” she continued, “Alfred didn’t mind, he’s normally off humping a servant girl anyways.”

“That sounds nice,” Sihtric commented. Edyt raised an eyebrow and cast him a teasing grin.

“A small feast or humping a servant girl?” she asked playfully. Sihtric laughed and shrugged.

“Both actually,” he answered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “There’s this one servant girl. I heard she worked for Lady Aelswith. Maybe she’ll be there when I travel south.”

“Oh?” she asked, playing along as she turned to face him.“I used to work for Aelswith. Tell me about your girl and maybe I can tell you if she’ll be there.”

“Let’s see, she had blonde hair and was about yay height,” he said, raising his hand level to the top of her head, before his eyes flicked downwards and he offered her a playful grin, “Great tits too.”

Edyt snorted a laugh before dissolving into giggles, hands coming up to cover her face. Sihtric grinned widely at her, sharing in her mirth. Regaining her composure, she looked up at him, attempting to put on a serious face.

“Blonde, short, great tits,” she listed, pretending to ponder.

“Extremely short,” Sihtric cut in, causing Edyt to scoff in offense, “Ridiculously tiny.”

“Barely below average,” Edyt corrected, shoving him lightly as he laughed at her. He caught her hands, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose. Edyt stuck her tongue out at him, before returning to their game. “Hmmm… I might need a little more information.”

“Well, I hear she was a dreadful healer’s apprentice, but a very skilled swordswoman,” he told her. He brought his hands to chest, squeezing her breasts lightly, as he backed her towards the bed. “Did I mention the great tits?”

“You did,” she laughed, pulling him down to kiss her. Sihtric broke the kiss, rubbing his nose playfully against her own. 

“Another thing about my girl,” he said, and Edyt hummed at the phrase, her face flushing, “is she needs some help relaxing.”

“Oh?” she asked, excitement pooling in her stomach as his fingers inched up her dress. “Are you going to help her with that?”

“I am,” he confirmed, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. His hands continued their task of removing her dress, parting the kiss briefly so he could toss it to the floor. Edyt’s hands tugged at his tunic. He pulled the unnecessary fabric over his head before wrapping her in his arms and jumping onto the bed. Edyt laughed as her back hit the furs. 

“Sihtric!” she laughed, attempting to scold him as the bed creaked beneath them. “The innkeeper is going to complain!” 

“You worry too much,” he told her, leaning in to kiss her, interlacing their fingers above her head. Edyt smiled into the kiss, her free hand cupping his face. Sihtric broke away, pressing kisses along her neck. “Just relax. ”

“I am relaxed,” she protested, gasping as he sucked a mark onto the base of her neck. He chuckled, continuing south with open mouth kisses along the tops of her breasts. 

“Not yet,” he commented, “but you will be.”

“Oh?” she laughed, “someone’s confident.”

Sihtric didn’t answer, eyes flicking up to hers briefly as he smirked against her skin. He moved lower, kissing down between breasts. He wrapped his lips around her nipple, tugging it into his mouth as she gasped. Bringing a hand to the other breast, he tweaked the nipple, eliciting a whimper from her. He flicked his tongue across the sensitive bud. Edyt’s hands gripped at his shoulders. Sihtric released her breast from his mouth, scattering kisses along her ribs. He nipped and sucked at the skin just below her breast, until he was satisfied a mark had been left. Her hips rocked as he trailed open mouth kisses along her stomach, blowing gently on the wet flesh. 

“What are you doing?” she asked as Sihtric yanked her down the bed, shifting to kneel beside it. He looked up at her, mouth moving along her inner thigh.

“Helping you relax,” he said, fingers teasing her entrance. “Just lay back and enjoy it.” 

“I-” Edyt began to protest, nerves fluttering in her stomach, before she stopped herself. She nodded, leaning back, fingers drumming against the furs at her sides. Sihtric paused, chuckling slightly at her still tense form. Edyt pouted at him, before laughing herself, “Hush! I am trying.”

“I know,” he said, resuming the task of littering her inner thighs with kisses. His fingers moved along her opening, spreading her for him as he shifted his focus. He swiped his tongue along her slit, grinning as she gasped at the unfamiliar feeling, hips shifting involuntarily. “Edyt, try and stay still for me.”

Edyt nodded in response, heart racing, lip pulled between her teeth as she looked down at him. Sihtric leaned back to her, moving up licking around the sensitive bud until Edyt was whimpering, desperate little pants coming from her. Finally, he centered on it, applying the lightest bit of pressure with the flat of his tongue. Edyt's hands clutched the furs as she moaned, his name falling from her lips. Slowly, he increased his pressure and pace as she rocked slightly. Her self control dwindled as he worked.

“Please,” she gasped, hands curling into his hair. He hummed in response, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through her. His fingers skimmed up her stomach, hand closing around her breast. He squeezed lightly, before focusing in on the nipple, tugging it lightly. Edyt’s back arched, breathing becoming ragged as her orgasam built. Two of the fingers teasing her entrance slipped inside, curling immediately. 

Edyt’s head fell back, the last of her self control keeping her from clasping his head between her thighs. Sihtric increased his tempo, curling his fingers as he brought her to her climax. Her walls clenched around his fingers as her legs shook. She laid, panting for a moment as she relaxed against the furs. 

“Relaxed?” he asked, wiping his mouth with his thumb as he looked up at her. Edyt smiled at him. 

“Come here,” she muttered, still a little breathless as she reached for him. She pressed her lips to his, tasting herself on his tongue. She could feel his clothed cock pressing insistently against her thigh. “You need out of those trousers.”

“I think I can manage that,” he said, sitting up on his knees to undo the lacings. Edyt looked him over, eyes trailing shamelessly down his chest. 

A cold breeze blew through the room, causing her to sit up wide eyed, arms crossing instinctually over her chest. Her face burned as she looked at the open window, suddenly very grateful that they did not face the neighboring building.

“Sihtric,” she whined, pointing at the window, before covering her face in embarrassment. Sihtric looked over and shrugged.

“What?” he asked, standing from the better and moving towards it trying to figure out what he was missing.

“It’s open,” Edyt told him, stressing the second word harshly. Seeing the confusion still on his face, she sighed, “It means everyone down below, absolutely heard me.”

“So?” he asked, grinning cheekily at her as he pressed it firmly closed.

“I-” Edyt shrugged, shaking her head, unable to find the words to explain herself. Sihtric kissed her gently, pulling off his trousers before climbing into their bed.

“Next time,” he said firmly, “I’ll make sure the window is closed, okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbled, attempting to shrug off the feeling as she leaned in to kiss him again. Sihtric tangled his hand in her hair, shifting closer. Edyt pulled him down with her as she laid back in the bed, hoping he’d distracted her from her embarrassment. Sihtric pulled back, running his eyes over her naked form. Edyt couldn’t help the excited grin that overtook her as the look on his face told her he would not disappoint. 

[razieltwelve]

Booze (Final Rose AU)

This is set in the Yang x Averia x Elsa AU in which Weiss x Ruby x Jahne eventually becomes a thing.

X     X     X

“Technically,” Weiss pointed out archly. “You’re underage.”

Yang stared at Weiss. “If I’m old enough to rip Grimm apart with my bare hands and wade knee-deep through their guts, then I’m old enough to drink some booze.”

“Does that mean...?” Ruby gave her sister a hopeful look.

“No.” Yang shook her head. “Not happening!”

“But... but I’m the team leader!” Ruby insisted. “I make the decisions!”

“And I’m your big sister. This is a family thing, not a team thing. No booze.”

Ruby huffed. “I bet nobody on Averia’s team overrules her like this.”

Blake cracked open a can of beer and took a swig before tossing one at Weiss. The heiress caught it and eyed it dubiously before opening it. “I haven’t known Averia as long as either of you, but I can already see that trying to overrule her would only result in horrible death.”

“Or you could get bent over a table and fucked senseless.” Yang shrugged. “That could happen too.” She smirked. “Happened last week, in fact. Shit. I love Saviour’s cloaking abilities. Hell, it even fixed up the library table afterward too.”

Ruby put her hands over her ears. “Not listening!”

Weiss’s cheeks flushed. “She’s done that?”

“Oh, yeah.” Yang snickered. “Although it’s not because she’s a control freak or anything.” Yang shrugged. “Elsa and I both kind of get off on having her take charge. And, yeah, I think it appeals to her analytical side too. I’m convinced she’s asked Saviour to optimise sex or something, not that I’m complaining. Fuck meditation. Getting fucked is my meditation.”

Blake took a long sip of her beer. “Go on...”

“Pervert,” Yang muttered. “But, come on, I’m sure you guys must get sick of having to always be in charge all the time. I mean... in pretty much any context, we’re the most powerful people in the room. But it’s tough letting your guard down, you know, trust issues and all that. But I don’t have that problem with Averia.”

“Oh?” Blake asked. “And why is that?”

“Why?” Yang snickered as Ruby continued to cover her ears. “Because she could murder the fuck out of me whenever she felt like it.” Yang grinned. “Look. If Averia wanted me dead. I’d be dead. It’s that simple. If she wanted me maimed. I’d be maimed. That’s why I trust her. She has never, in all the years that I’ve known her, ever hurt me on purpose, and believe me, she’s had plenty of opportunities.”

“Outside of training, you mean?” Blake asked.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. She kicks my ass in training. There wouldn’t be a point if we were fighting with kid gloves on all the time.” Yang paused. “And during sexy times. You know, because sometimes hurting in just the right way makes it feel so damn good...”

Blake nodded sagely. “We really need to talk about this more. But, yeah, I get you. Whenever I try to date anyone, trust is a big thing. Are they actually interested in me, or do they just want to say they banged a huntress who happens to basically be the princess of Menagerie?”

“I can see where you’re coming from,” Weiss said. “Jahne and I may have...indulged in a few things over the years. Despite some concerns people may have about her and her mother, Jahne has never been anything less than a completely loyal friend to me.”

“Yeah, Averia said she’s like that. If you’re her enemy, Jahne is straight up poison, the kind of person you wish you never met. If you’re her friend? You’re golden. She’ll take care of you no matter what.” Yang sighed and gently eased Ruby’s hands away from her ears.

“Are you done talking about your sex life?” Ruby growled.

“Yeah, yeah.” Yang smirked. “Now, we’re talking about Weiss’s.”

Ruby considered raising her hands to her ears for a moment before squinting at Weiss. “You have a sex life?” She paused.

“With Jahne,” Weiss drawled. “From time to time. Maybe.” She took a swig from the beer. “Like just before we went on this mission.”

“Oh.” Ruby’s eyes widened, and she trailed off, staring into space with a silly smile on her face.

“And people call me the pervert,” Blake drawled. “I’m pretty sure that she’s imagining a threesome with you and Jahne.”

“I am not!” Ruby hissed.

Weiss just gave Ruby a blank look, downed the rest of her beer, and reached for another. “I am way too sober to be thinking about that. Ruby, come see me in a couple of years.”

“A couple of - wait!” Ruby held up one hand. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t know.” Weiss sighed. “Maybe. Probably. Shit. I think I’m drunk.” She looked at Ruby. “Dust, you’re pretty now, but you’re going to be absolutely stunning in a couple of years.”

“Lightweight,” Yang teased. “And don’t think I haven’t seen you eyeing up Weiss’s sister whenever she visits Beacon, Blake.”

The Faunus tried to hide behind her beer. “I simply happen to have some expertise in covert operations and the like. I’m merely curious to know how her expertise compares.”

“Yeah, ‘expertise’. I’ve seen how you look at her.” Yang scoffed. “Weiss, I give it a year before we catch Blakey here with your sister.”

“What?” Weiss scowled. “That’s...” She paused. “Not that bad, actually. I mean I’ve met some of Winter’s previous girlfriends. I never liked any of them, but Blake isn’t half bad.”

“Thanks,” Blake drawled.

“You’re welcome.” Weiss flopped onto her back. “But you really should approach her. My sister despises cowards.”

“Hey, guys,” Ruby said. “Do we have any drinks that aren’t booze? Because I already finished my soda, and I’m kind of still thirsty.”

Yang looked through the cooler. There was nothing quite like drinking it up on a private beach after a successful mission. “Here.” She tossed Ruby a can of cola. “There.”

“Yay!”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

The gang are a little bit more laidback in this AU, and Yang is a bit happier to talk about her love life too. If you’re wondering where Sally is, she didn’t go with them on the mission. Instead, she’s currently hanging out with Diana and Strangles at a mango farm that Yang bought. Since she isn’t an expert in farming or mangoes, she wanted Diana to check it out, and Sally invited herself along once she heard there were mangoes. And, yes, Yang basically bought it for Sally because Sally absolutely loves mangoes, and there aren’t all that many of them on Patch. Diana, meanwhile, is an expert on farming and mangoes (or basically anything food related), so she’s there to make sure it’s all in order.

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Descendants 2- Ch. 13: Pushed Away

I must say, Jane really went all-out with the decorating committee. The ship is covered in Auradon blue and yellow banners, adding a vibrant tone to help lift my spirits. After I finish helping Tiffany with the hors d'oeuvres, it’s nearly dark and people are starting to arrive. Seeing the approaching crowd makes my pulse quicken and I pull my cloak on.

“Don’t worry, Magica,” Tiffany tries to assure me. “They won’t hurt you.”

“Yeah, like they did during Ben’s coronation? They might not burn me at the stake like a hundred years ago, but they will still cast me out like any other villain descendant.”

I leave her to do the last touches on the food and go to hide near the rear of the ship, staring off at the dim-lit Isle in the distance.

“Don't let them in, don't let them see.

Be the good girl you always have to be.”

I hold up my hand and let purple sparks bounce off into the sea.

“Conceal, don't feel, put on a show.

Make one wrong move and everyone will know.”

All my life I’ve had to hide, had everything taken. My father, my integrity, my true love. Is this all a test, a trial to see just how far I can bend? I’ve heard that good things come to those who wait, but for how long?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I nearly stumble overboard and turn to find a familiar feline. “Good to see you’ve stuck around, Binx. Seems like every time you show up is when I need you the most.”

He hops up on the railing. “Need an accomplice?”

“No, just someone to talk to.” 

“You should be lucky I don’t have a fear of water like most cats.” Binx looks down at the sea. “Be a shame if you fell.”

I give a sarcastic laugh. “Be better than sticking around here. So far the only thing keeping me here is because Mal needs my support. She’s going through the same thing I did and thinks she’ll never be able to handle being on the court.”

“What about Ben?”

“Don’t get me started. He talks of a better future and promises to let the VKs over to Auradon, but it’s seeming more and more like a political scheme. Ben’s changed so much… But then again so have I.”

Binx struts over and gives me a concerned look. “How’d it go with your mother?”

The past day’s events flash through my mind. “As good as it could, I guess. Aunt Winnie tried to take my powers, but I had some help. Don’t worry, they won’t be doing any more evil anytime soon.”

Now Binx gets an anxious look. “Magica… what did you do?”

I lazily flick more sparks off into the ocean. “You remember I practiced binding spells, right?”

It clicks. “Where are they now?”

“In a spellbook I’ve hidden back at the dorms. When I leave I’ll take it with me.”

After first Binx seems upset but then comes to terms with my decision. “With all things considered, that seems like a reasonable solution. I’m sure it was very hard on you.”

I stiffen and continue to stare off into the sunset. “Yes. But life isn’t easy. Right now I’ve got to forget about my family drama, swallow my pride and make it through tonight without starting another quarrel.”

After taking one last look at the sinking sun, I decide to go get this emotional roller coaster of a night over with.

Binx jumps down and follows. “You ready for this?”

I take a deep breath and nod. “Let’s go.”

The black cat sticks close to my feet and we make our way to the ship’s bow. By now everyone else has shown up, some already start to stare. Of course some like Tiffany, Jane, and Lonnie give me the thumbs-up, but most follow through with what I expected. 

“It’s the Sanderson witch!” Rosaline shrieks.

“Get away!”

“She’ll spell us again!”

“Fiend!”

“Enough!” Carlos shouts as he pushes through. “Magica is the kindest witch you will ever meet, and if you’re holding her family past against her then you’re the wicked ones!”

The other VKs show up too and push everyone away to give me space.

“Magica is here as an honorary guest on behalf of Ben and Mal,” Evie speaks sternly. “If you have any problem with it-” Her eyes flash. “Talk to me.”

No one seems to want to test her, so they grudgingly walk away.

“Thanks everyone,” I look around at the gathered friends, thankful for their acceptance and kindness. I give Carlos a look-over and smile. “Nice jacket, as always.”

Jane pulls me aside and keeps apologizing over and over. “Magica I’m so sorry I haven’t gotten to talk to you! You must think I’m a monster-!”

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” I hold my hands up. “Carlos is a lucky guy to have found someone like you.” I look over to where the VKs have started dancing, trying so hard to ignore Carlos’ cute smile. It feels like my insides are freezing and shattering into a million pieces. “I- I’m very happy for you two…” My voice starts to break and I use the trumpets announcing Mal’s appearance to sneak away off to the side.

Lumier steps out on the top platform and motions to the curtain. “The future Lady Mal.”

Mal steps out in- in all honesty, a dress that does not suit her. Seriously, another blue and yellow dress? It doesn’t match her purple hair, and it seems as if Mal’s trying so hard to fit in. As she descends the stairs people smile and stare, which leaves me confused. How is it that I’m a wicked witch, yet the daughter of Maleficent is welcomed with open arms?

Mal gets to the bottom and stands next to Evie, giving me a subtle look of trying to seem confident.

“How are you feeling?” Evie asks.

“Like I’m about to throw up.”

“Don’t worry, we’re right here with you.”

I dare to step closer and Binx circles around her dress. “We’re here too, Mal. Just let me know if you want me to hex anyone.”

She gives me a smirk and we all turn back to Lemire.  “King Benjamin.”

The future king steps out and walks down towards Mal, but- Something’s off… something’s wrong. Ben’s eyes aren’t seeing straight. It’s almost as if…

“Mal, I wish I had time to explain.” He looks back up, and the crowd gasps when we see a familiar pirate emerge. Uma? But… How's that possible? 

She hurries down the stairs in an aqua gown (where’d she get that?) and walks over to take Ben’s hand.

Ben gives Mal a blank look. “I’m sorry, it all happened so fast. Something happened to me when I was on the Isle with Uma. A connection.”

He talks as if the situation is normal, but I can tell Mal’s just as shocked as the rest of us.

“W- What are you saying?”

“I’m saying-”

“It was love!” Uma interrupts him. “I just… I just realized how alike Ben and are, you know?”

But Mal’s still not convinced. “Did you go back for her?”

“He didn’t have to. I dove through the barrier before it closed, and I’m an excellent swimmer, so…” Uma steps closer and takes Mal’s hands, almost coming off as sincere. “Mal, I just really wanna thank you. For everything.”

I swear if she smiles at me one more time I’m going to hex her so hard she never smiles again!

Music starts playing, which leads Ben to hold out a hand and begin dancing with Uma. 

“Not too thrilled I risked my life for him!” Carlos grumbles as he glares at the waltzing couple.

Mal continues to stare at them with tearing eyes, unsure what to do or say. My heart softens when I recognize how familiar this looks. I guess we’ve both lost our true love.

“We’re with you, Mal.” Lonnie puts a hand on Mal’s shoulder.

People keep staring, but some have begun to make accusations.

“Did you spell him, Sanderson?”

“She cursed him to fall in love with Uma!”

But I ignore them and push ahead to find Ben’s parents. They might know what’s going on.

“Did you know?” I ask Queen Belle.

Both parents shake their heads. “No. Did you?”

“No. This was a surprise for everyone. He won’t just walk away unscathed from this, right?”

The king’s eyes narrow at his son. “No.”

I walk back to the VKs, who are still glaring at the royal traitor. Uma spins around, giving all of us a cheesy grin.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jay whispers

When Mal passes by Ben’s parents they each offer their condolences.

“We’re so sorry. We had no idea.”

“I’m going to talk with him.”

Jane shakes her head and looks back at Ben. “This isn’t right. There has to be something to snap him out of this- oh!” She rushes up the stairs. “Lumier! Unveil the gift, they need to see it!” Lumier seems to understand her plan and silences everyone for an announcement. “And now, the unveiling of young Ben’s masterpiece, designed especially for his lady.”

And I got a feeling it ain’t Uma!

At the top of the stairs, a curtain is pulled away to reveal a magnificent stained glass portrait of Mal and Ben. Anyone looking at it can instantly tell a lot of thought and planning was put into it, which only proves against Ben’s new sporadic love for Uma.

Mal holds a hand to her chest and marvels at the portrait. “Ben did that?”

Evie takes her hand and smiles. “He loves you, the real you.”

“Told ya.”

But Uma seems to be having other thoughts.

“Cover that back up!” she demands as she storms over.

“I will not,” Lumier argues.

She hisses at him and then looks over at Ben. “Uh- Why don’t you tell everyone the present you have for me, Ben?”

The man in question still seems to be in a daze, and Uma’s words trigger him to get an idea. “I have an announcement! Uma will be joining the Court tonight, as my Lady.”

My jaw drops. That lying, no-good son of a witch!

His dad approaches with a warning glare. “Son-” 

“Not NOW, Dad!” Ben yells, but seems to swagger a bit. Something’s definitely wrong!

“So as my gift, to her, I’m bringing down the barrier once and for all!”

People approach me with sinister looks.

“It’s you! You wanted this, and now you’ve got it!”

“You spelled Ben!”

I keep shaking my head as they back me against the railing. “No… no! I never wanted it like this! VKs deserve justice, but not through cheating through magic!” In a desperate attempt I push through to where Ben is. “Snap out of it, Ben!”

But his glazed eyes look right through me. “Fairy Godmother, bring down the barrier!”

She gasps. “I most certainly will not!”

“I am your king!”

“Obey him!” Uma urges.

Mal seems to piece something together. “Ben’s been spelled!”

“Uma found your spellbook!” Evie guesses.

“Told you,” I scold. “I don’t have any antidote ready, so how are we supposed to stop this?”

Mal rushes forward and looks into Ben’s eyes.

“Ben, look at me.”

“No- look at me!” Uma fights back.

“Look at me.”

“You love me!”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes you do!”

Ben’s trying to fight the spell and decide who to look at, and Uma starts to get impatient.

“Bring down the barrier. Now!” She demands.

“I do not take orders from you!” Fairy Godmother reprimands her.

Uma then tries to get near Ben again but Binx and I block her path while giving off warning purple flames to allow Mal to speak with him.

“Ben, I never told you I loved you because I never thought that I was good enough. But that- that’s me! You’ve shown me everything we can be!”

She then leans in and brings her lips to his. Of course! The cliché true love’s kiss. At first Ben is reluctant, but then I see his eyes flash and return to normal.

“True love’s kiss,” Evie remarks with a smile. “Works every time.”

Uma sees her plan has failed and shoves me into a table, sending me to crumble to the ground.

“Magica!” Binx rushes over and nudges my head. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I grunt. “Just a little dented.”

“Ugh! Give it to me!” Uma makes one last attempt to wrestle the wand away from Fairy Godmother.

“Guards- size her!”

I scramble up off the floor and join Mal to chase Uma to the railing, stopping just before she threatens to jump off the edge. I see her pendant’s starting to glow, making me grow cautious of an oncoming attack.

“Uma! I know you- don’t let your pride get in the way of something you really want!” Mal pleads.

“Sometimes being good is hard. Sometimes life is hard,” I give Carlos a quick glance. “But sometimes you never know when the most unexpecting person can make you happy. Please, don’t do this!”

Uma seems to want to believe us, but gives in to her ego and leaps into the water. Now everyone decides to dash over and look down. What are you up to Uma…? All we can see is her glowing pendant, until a group of tentacles rise and cause a wave of water to crash down on the boat, soaking everyone. A giant Uma rises from the waves and shows off her strength.

“True love’s kiss won’t defeat this. The world will know my name!”

I’m about to summon a broom and prepare to fight her, but Mal stops me.

“No, Magica. This is between me and Uma.”

Mal’s eyes start to glow green, and I can already tell what’s about to happen.

“Keep away from her! Give her space!”

Uma knows too, and she spreads her arms out in a ‘come at me’ gesture. A purple smoke engulfs Mal, and from it flies a violet and green dragon. Just like her mother.

“Oh my God- she’s a dragon?” Rosaline gasps.

Dragon Mal flaps her wings and ascends into the air, baring her teeth and growling at Uma. But the sea witch’s daughter isn’t amused and flicks a tentacle at her. It goes back and forth, and I understand why because Mal doesn’t want to hurt her.

“We gotta do something!” I look over at the VKs. “How can we help?” 

Ben’s getting frustrated too and lets out a giant roar. Hastily, he hands over his crown and waistcoat, then heads towards the edge.

“Ben- what are you doing-!?” I shout just before he dives in.

He resurfaces and swims closer to the fight.

“Mal, Uma! Stop fighting now!”

Uma cackles at his pathetic pleas. “Or what? You gonna splash me?”

“It doesn’t have to be like this! We have to listen and respect each other! We’ve got to be brave enough to try! Uma, help me make a difference!”

Mal sees that Ben wants to stop the violence and backs off, allowing Uma to have a change of heart.

“Uma, please,” I try to appeal to her. “There’s more to life than power. I swear we will let kids off the Isle. We will make this right!”

Uma gets a melancholy look and shakes her head, then holds out a tentacle to hand Ben something: his ring. Without a word, she slips back into the sea.

Ben looks around and sighs in defeat, swimming back to the ship. After Ben climbs up, dragon Mal sets down and more purple smoke appears, turning her back to normal. And also wearing a new purple dress similar to the one in Ben’s stained window! She gives a wave to Ben and comes down the stairs.

“Did not know I could do that,” Mal mutters.

“That makes two of us,” Evie replies as she finishes dusting the embers off of Mal’s dress.

“Transformation magic! Mal, do you realize how hard that is?” I gawk.

She gets an embarrassed smile and shrugs. “Um, I’ve been growing through power spurts.”

Mal goes to say more but stops when Ben walks over, completely dripping wet. They join hands and share another kiss.

“Ok ok- that’s enough,” Carlos jokes as we all smile at the happy couple.

“I owe you guys so much!” Ben smiles at us.

“Yeah.”

“Just a little bit!”

“If there’s anything you need, anything I can do-” “Um, there is one thing,” Evie inputs. “I know a girl who would really love to come to Auradon. It’s Drusella’s daughter, Dizzy. She’s like a little sister to me.”

“Then she should come.”

“Oh, ok! Actually- there’s a lot of kids who would like it here in Auradon. Could I maybe get you a list?”

Ben’s face lights up. “Yes, please!”

This means I can fulfill my promise!

 “Ben, I have some ideas for-” 

But I’m blocked out by Evie’s chatter and Ben turns away to answer some questions from reporters. I thought he-? They go on to talk more about Evie’s suggestions, and I’m left alone as everyone crowds around the dance floor.

I thought he understood. I told Ben how much this means to me, yet here I am swept under the rug? No one, not even Jane or Lonnie, thinks to come ask me.

A guard walks up to Mal and hands her a familiar book. “Uma had your spellbook below decks.”

“Careful with it, Mal. Make use of it wisely,” I warn lightly. 

“You know, this seems like it belongs with Fairy Godmother-”

As if on cue, the Headmistress pushes forward. “Yes, that’s me!”

Mal sheepishly hands over the spellbook. “This probably belongs in the museum…”

“Yes it does, and I’m gonna take it!” She swipes the book and scoots off.

When she leaves, Mal gives Ben a playful splash. He returns the splash, leading to one big splash fight. Everyone has a good time and starts dancing, but the cheerful atmosphere only makes me question my situation even further. 

Torn away from my father, falsely shunned as a wicked witch, deprived of my true love, and now I’ve had my very ambition discredited? I thought he understood… I thought they all understood. I know Ben’s changed since we were young, but never in my deepest imagination did I ever think he’d forget about me like this. Even after he made me his Royal Advisor… 

“I saw what happened,” Binx says softly from behind. “You have every right to be upset, and… if you really need to talk to him-”

“No,” I state sharply. “He chose this. To be Auradon’s poster boy for being good. Maybe a long time ago he did want me to be seen with him, but now-” I huff. “All he wants is Mal. I told him how important bringing down the barrier is to me, yet he tossed me aside. But my days of holding onto the past are over. Let him be Mal’s darling husband, her perfect pawn. I’m no longer going to have dreams of becoming involved in Auradon’s corrupt court.”

Purple flames rage from my hands and up above the sky starts flashing lightning, warning me that I should leave before I cause anything I might regret. I pivot and find Carlos’ face in the crowd, having the time of his time with Jane. Choking down a snarl, I storm off through the oblivious crowd, my boiling emotions tearing me apart and spilling angry tears down my pale face.

I thought they understood.

[em-writes-stuff]

Flufftober + Whumptober day 6

prompts: sharing clothes (alt. 3) + "It should've been me"

1085 words

warnings: cursing, self-sacrifice, nearly being crushed to death

characters: emberly drewitt, nyks fyre, echo song

~

Emberly rolls over and opens her eyes. She shoots up, kicking the blanket off of her. “Evie?”

She lifts up Evangeline’s blanket and shakes her head, “No, no, no.” she lets go of the blanket and shakes Nyks awake. “Did you hear Evie leave? I can’t find her.” 

Nyks blinks a few times and sits up. They rub their eyes and yawn, “I’m sure she’s just…she probably woke up early and went to the river or something. We can go look for her if you want.” 

Emberly pulls Nyks to her feet and tosses them her cloak. “I want.” 

Nyks pulls it over her head and tries to ignore Emberly’s smell enveloping her. “Let’s wake Echo up first, don’t want him waking up to an empty campsite. Why don’t you go check the river and see if she’s there, alright?” 

Emberly nods anxiously and bites her cheek. “You’re probably right, I’m sure she left to let us sleep.” 

Nyks smiles reassuringly and squats down to wake Echo up. They put a hand on its shoulder and he inhales sharply, rolling onto his back and opening his eyes. “What?” 

She pulls her hand back and purses their lips, “Evangeline’s missing. Emberly went to check the river, but I don’t know if she’ll find her.” 

“Because you let her sacrifice herself,” Echo says. He tilts his head and crosses his legs. “Right?” 

“What? No, why would you think that?” Nyks stutters. “I would never let her do that.” 

Echo scoffs and leans forward, “I wasn’t sleeping. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” he says, noticing Nyks’ face quickly losing color. “It was the only way to get the compass.” he stands up and folds its blanket. “You did get the compass, didn’t you?” 

“Of course I got the fucking compass,” they snap, holding it up to him. She waits until he looks away from it before pocketing it in the cloak’s pocket. “I’m not stupid.” 

He stuffs the blanket into his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Do you want to tell her? Or do we pretend like we’ll find her?” 

Nyks puffs their cheeks and bobs her head, “I mean…is it a terrible thing to do if we keep it from her? Evangeline was her sister. Telling her that she left?” 

“Don’t ask me to make it easier for you to keep it from her,” Echo says. “You let her leave, you decide.” he stomps out the fire and throws sand over the embers. “I’ll stick with whatever you tell her, but you have to stick to it too.” 

Nyks kicks the ground and grumbles, “I hate you.” 

Loud footsteps come their way and moments after hearing them, Emberly comes into sight. She stands with her hands on her knees, panting. 

“I didn’t find her. Do you think she’s in any trouble? I mean, she’s run off before but never without any warning.” she stands up and paces around the clearing, “I just…don’t know what to do. She’s the worrier, not me.” 

Nyks walks up to her and puts their hand on her shoulder, “Do you want to wait for today and see if she comes back?” 

Emberly nods and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Right?” 

“She’ll show up,” Echo says as he awkwardly pats her shoulder.

“But you guys should head back to Nanefig. I know you need to get back, Nyks. I’ll be alright here.” 

Echo glares at Nyks, trying to force her to stay with Emberly, but all they do is force a smile and pack her bag. “Are you sure?” she asks, “We can stay with you, at least an hour.” 

Emberly nods and packs up her sleeping mat. “I’ll find a way to manage. If I can get my cloak back.” 

Nyks blinks a few times before realizing that they’re still wearing her cloak. “Right,” she says, pulling it over her head. “Of course.” 

The compass falls out of the pocket and Nyks rushes to pick it up. “Sorry about that, it’s just a little…keepsake.” She says, wrapping the leather strap around the gold. “It’s nothing.”

“Is that the compass?” Emberly asks. She reaches out to it and takes it from Nyks’ hand. “The compass we were going to wait to get because it was going to cost a life?” 

Nyks keeps hold of the compass, gently keeping a tight grip on the small object. “It’s a compass, yes. But it’s my grandfather’s, passed down through my mother.” 

“No,” Emberly says, inspecting the engraving on the compass. “This says ‘pick a foe to exchange in order to know where to go.’ You fucking traded my sister for this thing?” she shouts. 

Around them, the plants start to shake. Flower buds close back up and branches pull away from the clearing. 

“Emberly…” Echo says, backing out of the clearing. “Why don’t you take a few deep breaths?” He crosses his arms in front of him and shelters behind a tree. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, but some of these branches are already rotting.” 

She ignores it. Advancing toward Nyks, she holds the compass out to them and drops it. “You fucking sacrificed my sister for this hunk of metal?” she shouts. “My fucking sister!” 

A branch falls, barely avoiding Nyks. Echo squeaks and pulls further behind the tree. Nyks takes the compass from Emberly and tucks it into her inner shirt pocket. 

“I had to do something to get it! This is the only thing that’s getting me out of Nanefig! The only thing that makes their deaths worth it.” she shouts back. “I didn’t make her do it, didn’t even ask her to. She told me she was dying and this would be her one good act.” 

Emberly snaps back and the branches stop shaking. “What do you mean, dying?” she whispers. “She isn’t dying. She’s fine.” 

Echo steps back into the clearing and clears its throat, “She wasn’t. Something was…tearing her apart from the inside out. Like…no matter what she did, she was dying. And there was nothing I could do to help.” 

“I was going to do it,” Emberly says, still whispering. “It should’ve been me.” 

Nyks and Echo share a glance and they stand in silence, waiting for Emberly to do something, waiting for her to do anything. But she stands there, staring at the freshly fallen branch in front of her. 

She inhales sharply and nods, “We should head out, Nanefig is a few days away still.”