#and they teach her corpse whispering and she grows up more and starts just vanishing for ages at a time in the changing necropolis rooms

[hildryn]

been contemplating making ilysia a somniari cos i love the thought of it but also she's already a corpse whisperer like emmerich and she's romancing lucanis and being near demons is like Literally Physically Painful for dreamers so do i want her in constant paint near her beloved and his demon? or would it be different with him since he's inside a host that isn't warped horribly by the demon's influence? and also potentially returning to some semblance of who determination was before becoming spite due to lucanis's and the companions influence? would the fact it hurts less give her some spark of hope that spite can be helped?

much to think about 🤔

[nyx-aira]

Hi! I was thinking of a young Agatha Harkness x reader fic//one shot where after her fight with the coven, Agatha finds a cottage in the woods to wait out the aftermath, but it turns out reader lives there? I love your work btw!

End my suffering

Requested by @booklovinbi and @midnight-lestrange

Request #2: Hey, can you please do where y/n has kinda the same powers as Wanda, but her color is blue, and she has a fight with Agatha (for who she has feelings, because they were getting close/same for Agatha) During the fight y/n loses and maybe gets seriously injured and waits Agatha to kill her, but instead Agatha kneels and carry her back home, where she takes care of y/n. In the end Agatha kisses y/n and then Agatha is ready to leave but y/n takes her hand and pulls closer for the kiss. Could you write it?

Summary: Agatha is accused of breaking the rules of the coven. As things spiral out of control she injures you badly. What is she going to do now?

A/N: I mixed your requests, I hope that was alright. I didn't follow them exactly but I still hope you like them. Also thank you so much for 200 followers guys, you're amazing.

TW!: Angst, mention of violence, brief mention of blood, brief description of injuries (let me know if I need to add anything)

Tag list: @escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @king-star @ynscrazylife @booklovinbi @mysticfalls01 @adorkwithaplan

The coven had been your home as long as you could remember, growing up there and learning magic as the town folk had cast you out after they killed your mother, falsely accused of witchcraft, it was quite ironic if you thought about it, sending the one away that was actually a witch. You owed the coven your life and you were endlessly grateful for that, loyal until death.

That's why you didn't question it when you were told to meet up by the waterfalls at midnight. Waiting with your sisters you heard her before you could even see her, pleading with the witches dragging her through the forest, fear clearly visible on her face, Agatha. She was brought onto the platform and bound to the stake, magic bonds restricting her movements. Struggling she looked around, scared, terrified. You hid your face under your hood, averting your gaze, you didn't like this but you had faith in the head witch, believing there must be a good reason for this.

And so the trial began.

"Agatha Harkness, are you a witch"

"Yes I am a witch."

She still struggled against her bonds, fear visible on her face but there was something in her voice, something that made your skin crawl and hands shake.

"Yet you have betrayed your coven."

You gasped at that, growing angry, how dare she betrayed your sisterhood. Revealing yourselves you caught her gaze, shock and hurt crossing her features as she recognised you but you only sent her an icy glare.

"I have not."

"You stole knowledge above your age and station, you practiced the darkest of magic."

"I know..I know nothing of these crimes."

She was becoming desperate, you could hear it in her voice, pleading with the head witch for her to believe her.

"I..I swear it."

"Enough deception!"

At these words Agathas demeanour changed, she stopped struggling against her bonds, straightening up to her full height, all the fear gone from her face, replaced with something you could only identify as pride.

"I did not break your rules. They simply bent to my power."

At this she smirked, watching with delight as the faces of your sisters fell in shock, bathing in the feeling of recognition and fear. You stared at her, unbelieving of what she just said. You knew Agatha, you knew her very well, she was power-hungry and malicious but you could have never fathomed that she'd ever do something like this. Seeing your shocked expression she straightened up a little bit more, the mischievous glint in her eyes glowing brighter.

With a nod of the head witch your sisters began chanting, slowly at first, growing louder every second.

Agathas confident smirk vanished at that, getting replaced by tremendous fear as she realised what was about to happen.

"Wait.."

Her pleas were ignored as they continued the chant. Feeling the familiar rush of magic surge through your body you focused on the task at hand, ignoring the little voice in your head that told you to stop, not wanting Agatha to get hurt.

"No. I can’t control it! I..."

The chanting grew louder, drowning out the desperate cries of the chained witch.

"If only you would teach me! Help me! Please!"

Agatha tried to catch your eyes, you could feel her staring at you, her desperate cries making your heart clench in doubt, a single tear running down your face. Your feelings threatening to break your concentration you pushed them away, ignoring the pain it brought you.

"Mother, please."

You looked up at these words. Mother. You didn't know that. Hadn't been aware that Agatha was the daughter of the head witch. Dread started to settle in the pit of your stomach, you knew how this was gonna end and you found it hard enough already to even think about it. But Agatha was her daughter....

"Please! Mother!"

Ignoring the desperate cries of her daughter the head witch join in the chant. Horror manifested on Agathas face, screaming for help, pleading, but nobody listened to her. It dawned to her that this was the end, she was gonna die.

"No!"

A guttural scream tore itself from her body as she was blasted with the spell. Screaming her lungs out, her cries so loud they must be heard from miles away, her body shaking under the force of the energy, knees buckling, only the chains holding her in place.

Tears streaming down your face as you continued to focus your energy on the screaming witch, the sounds of her agony making you sick, you never wanted this. But your loyalty was to the coven, no matter how hard it made your heart ache and break in two.

You realised something was wrong when you saw the frightened look on her mother's face.

Agatha grunted, her pained screams turning into something else, the blue energy turning purple, capturing you and your sisters, holding you in place. Agatha looked around, seemingly surprised at the new development, her face changing from agony into something more sinister, something more Agatha.

You felt her magic hit you as you screamed out in pain, falling to the ground, ending the chant in an instant. You robbed away on your knees, coughing and panting, your whole body felt like it was burning and you had trouble breathing, everything becoming a blurry mess.

You couldn't see what was happening but judging by the pained screams of your sisters and the dark magic in the air it wasn't good. You groaned, getting up to your knees, a scream getting stuck in your throat when you looked into the dead face of one of your sisters, her lifeless corpse laying in front of you. Scared you looked around to see all of them dead, turned into corpses, no more than rotten flesh and bones.

Your head whipped around when you heard another scream. Looking at the scene that played in front of you, you saw mother and daughter facing each other.

Agatha was getting burned by her own mother. The head witch flying high in the air, focusing all of her energy on Agatha, trying to kill her. But it wasn't working, the blue energy turned purple, the head witch grunting as she started to crumble, turning older until her corpse hit the floor, the lifeless body dropping down not far from you.

You watched as Agatha looked at her hands, seemingly surprised by the sheer power of her magic. Shrugging it of she grasped the end of her dress as she ascended the stairs of the podium, looking like the dark goddess she was.

You held your breath as she crouched down in front of her mother, taking the brooch from her neck and pocketing it. She got up to leave when she caught a glimpse of you, still moving, alive. Her face darkening she marched towards you, hands igniting with purple magic, eyes pitch black and full of hatred, she was angry.

Your eyes widened in horror as she stalked towards you, frantically trying to get up. Your head was pounding, everything was spinning and you just felt sick. You're whole body burning like it was on fire but at the same time shivers rocked your limbs, making it impossible to move, not taking your trobbing leg and hurting ribs into consideration. It was quite possible that you had broken a couple of bones when you were slammed against the tree. Your head was starting to ring as you tried to stay conscious, the pain intensifying, you felt like you were burning on the inside, your body aflame.

In an weak attempt to protect yourself you tried to bring up an energy field, a spike of agony shooting through you as you tried. It felt like you were being ripped apart, your magic attacking you, hurting you. A feral scream tore itself from your throat, tears blurring your vision even more, feeling something drip down your nose you realised it was blood. The torturous sensation continued to move through your body, stealing your breath, making you feel like your organs were torn apart.

Black spots started to appear on your vision and you dug your nails into your thighs, trying to stay awake, trying to distract yourself from the hell you were going through. It wasn't working, the pain becoming too much you let out another strangled gasp, forcing some air into your lungs, everything was on fire, your body burning from within.

You didn't realised you were crying, tears mixing with the blood on your face, you couldn't take it anymore.

You heard footsteps move in your direction. In your pained agony you somehow managed to open your eyes, recognising the familiar silhouette of Agatha and her purple magic.

You stared at her for a long time, laying bloodied and bruised on the ground, dying. You took all of your strength to say the next words, feeling like knives slit your throat as you did.

"Please...just end my suffering..please.."

You pleaded with the other witch, your voice nothing more than a whisper, bringing you immense pain just from speaking. You wanted it to end, you couldn't take it anymore. Waiting for Agatha to bring you mercy you didn't realise she was crying, crouching in front of your broken body, not knowing what to do.

She had hurt you, she had done this to you, it dawned to her. Horror prominent on her face, this was her doing. Agatha let out a wrenched sob, clutching her chest, this was her fault, she had hurt you, had cursed you.

And now you were so scared of her that you were pleading with her to kill you, seeing it as the only option.

In your fragile state you realised that she was moving towards you, expecting the final blow you shut your eyes, praying that your pain would end.

Instead you felt gentle fingers on your forehead, soothing your pain and caressing your face. You instinctively leaned into the touch, seeking the feeling of calmness and peace that emitted from Agatha. She carefully turned you around, pulling your head in her lap, laying her hands on your chest she began chanting a spell you weren't familiar with, purple glow surrounding both of you, a familiar feeling surging through your body. The pain became less prominent, the feeling of burning up inside turning more into a fever than actually hurting you. Your head cleared up as well, still fuzzy but you could form a coherent thought again without screaming in agony.

After what seemed like an eternity the purple glow faded, leaving you exhausted, tired and still in a lot of pain, groaning as you felt your definitely broken ribs.

Agatha laid a soothing hand on your cheek, whispering comforting words as she shifted her position, a jolt of pain moving through your body at that. She apologised immediately and in your hallucinating state you could have sworn she pressed a short kiss on your cheek.

Gently hoisting you up she picked you up bridal style, whining at the movement your head lolled to the side, burying it in her neck.

The last thing you remembered was Agatha tightening her hold on you and the rush of wind, then everything went black pulling you into blissful nothingness.

When you woke up everything hurt, your head was ringing, your chest was hurting and you were sore, everywhere. You groaned, trying to sit up but a gentle hand pressed you back down, the scent of lavender and magnolia hitting your nose. You abruptly open your eyes, staring at Agatha who sat perched on the edge of your bed, still holding your hand, a concerned look on her face. You looked up at her in panic and saw silent tears running down her cheeks, her lip quivering.

"I'm so sorry angel."

You wanted to answer her but your voice was raspy and it just hurt using it, in fact everything hurt, making you feel tired and exhausted.

Agatha passed you a glass of water, gently holding your head as you greedily gulped down the liquid, spilling a little bit on the covers. She placed the glass back on the nightstand and checked your head for your fever, sighing in relief as it had gone down significantly the last couple hours.

Starting to shift in bed you let out a horrified gasp as you saw your body. You were only wearing a long linen top and the sight that greeted you was horrifying. Your whole torso was covered in cuts and bruised, bandages wrapped around your chest and left leg, your skin a mix between blues and purples.

"I tried to heal as much damage as I could, love, you have to believe me but even my magic has its limits, I'm so so sorry."

You could hear the sadness in her voice, the guilt and the pain at seeing you like that. Agatha was devastated and she didn't try to hide it.

The next days passed in a similar manner. Agatha taking care of you, making you food, reminding you to drink and changing your bandages. You still didn't know where you were or how exactly you got there but as you could barely move from the bed you decided that answering these questions could wait.

You were still very weak, dizzy spells hitting you out of nowhere and your limbs still sore. You were tired all the time, spending most of the day either sleeping or somewhere between conscious and the alluring darkness that sometimes threatened to overcome you.

Agatha was at your side most of the time, not comfortable with leaving you alone since you had passed out on day three, giving her a major scare. She would often sit by your side, reading some kind of spell book or practicing some easy spells. Her presence had a calming effect on you, her magic pulsing through the air and sparks of it landing on your skin. It felt different than before, darker, more powerful but not with an ill intent behind it. It was more of an old friend, welcome you back, it was alive and dangerous and you found yourself more often than not captivated by the powerful witch next to you, weaving spells through the air, her dark magic singing to you.

Your magic had changed as well, what had been blue energy before was now orange with a hint of pink. You didn't understand it, neither did Agatha but something had happened, something had changed inside of you, inside both of you and it was showing.

It was another stormy afternoon, rain hitting the windows and wind howling outside. You were feeling better now, able to walk around the cabin which was located in a part of the forest you've never been before. You're broken bones had been healed completely, curtsey of Agatha who had been going through all the spell books available to find the right healing potion. The dizzy spells were gone as well but the darkness lurking in the corner of your mind, luring you to follow it was still there, still prominent and it was tempting. Your magic did not return to its original colour, it also changed in its appearance, more of glowing whisps than the crackling blue energy it was before. You also felt different, more aware, more awake and most importantly, you could feel Agatha. Her emotions and feelings, tickling the corners of your mind. She was a mess. Guilt and sadness still dominant, feeling responsible for you. There was also something else, something you couldn't decipher but it left you feeling lighthearted and giddy.

You were sitting by the window seat reading one of Agatha’s spell books, more complicated than any spell book the coven had ever allowed you to read, you found out that you liked Agatha’s method of learning way better. Trying out a new spell the coral mist weaved around your hands, turning into an energy ball and then back into the unassuming whisps that always followed you around. You couldn't stop it and Agatha didn’t know why either. You figured you didn't mind, it was as if your magic was protecting you, always following you around if the need to defend yourself should arise. Putting the book back on the shelf you looked around your little cabin, it had become your home in the last few weeks, deeply hidden in the forest, surrounded by so many protecting spells you had lost count. You liked it here, the quiet of the forest and the closeness to nature, it was peaceful.

Agatha was out collecting some herbs and flowers, you had offered to go with her but she was still fussing over you, always making sure you were okay, having her hands on your body in any way, shape or form. Holding your hand while you were sitting together and reading, sitting close to you when you were having lunch, her leg brushing up against yours, an arm around you if you were taking a small walk, almost as if she'd expect you to fade out of existence this very moment. You didn't mind if you were being honest, you liked the way she cared about you, like she genuinely cared for you. It made you feel all fluttery and giddy but you dismissed the feeling as just being happy you weren't alone.

Roaming around the cabin you searched for something to pass the time as you waited for Agatha to return. Settling for reading some poetry you walked back to the window seat, tucking your feet unter your body you started reading, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the windows as the rain started to get heavier.

You didn't hear the door open or Agatha stepping inside, too focused on your poems. That's why you let out a shrill shriek as you felt her cold hands on your neck. You whipped your head around to see her smiling down at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. You both started laughing and had to take a moment to calm down again.

Wiping tears out of your eyes you looked at her, the rain had made her hair somewhat curly, a rosy tint to her cheeks from the cold outside, her hooded cape hiding most of her dress and corset. You found yourself lost in her baby blue eyes, the colour reminding you of the stormy sea and the rainy sky, you were mesmerised by her beauty. Shaking your head you came back to reality, Agatha looking at you with the same look she had on her face every time she looked at you. There was this feeling again, the feeling you couldn't decipher, not even with your newfound powers.

"What are we making for dinner today?"

Your voice seemed to snap her out of her thoughts and she took of her cape, placing the basket with flowers and herbs on the counter. She had also brought some vegetables from your little garden outside the cabin. You've always had a green thumb and magic didn't limit you to seasonal vegetables and berries which was useful if you were living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Walking over to the fireplace you looked at what you had to work with, Agatha stepping right behind you, her hand draped around your waist.

"See something you can work with hun?"

The nickname made you blush as you sorted through your ingredients, seemed like today's dinner was gonna be vegetable soup and some of the bread you had made a couple days ago.

While Agatha was magically cutting vegetables you were hearing the fireplace, lighting it with a flick of your hand, the coral mist protecting your hands from the orange flames. Preparing dinner together you and Agatha whirled around the kitchen, the other witch always touching you in some way, whether that was her just "passing by" or needing something from behind you, brushing your hand when she passed you something. Her actions made you smile, the fluttery feeling returning to your stomach and you couldn't brush it of as easy anymore.

As you waited for the soup to finish you cleaned up the kitchen and Agatha set the table, moving plates and glasses through the air, the familiar feeling of her magic present. You felt two arms wrap around you waist and you gasped in surprise as you felt her warm body pressed against your.

"Take a seat dear, I'll handle the rest."

Ignoring your protests she stirred you to the table, pulling out a chair for you and making you sit down. She squeezed your hand and gave you a short kiss on the head, rubbing your arm as she continued to clean the kitchen, making a show out of it to make you laugh.

You were wheezing from her dance number with the broom, Agatha dramatically giving a bow in your direction and shooting you a not so subtle wink.

She brought over the tray with the soup and bread, the tray floating besides her as she gracefully took a seat, placing down the food in front of you.

She was telling you about her walk in the woods, how she had seen a baby fox and the beautiful flowers she found near a cliff. You were mesmerised by her voice, wanting to listen to her for hours, just hearing her talk made you feel at peace. Made you feel at home.

As the sun set the two of you moved to the living room, cuddling close to each other as the cold of the night started to set in. You both had your magic to keep you warm but this didn't stop you from laying your head on Agatha’s shoulder, shuffling closer to her side as she began to read out of your poetry book you had spent the afternoon with.

You felt yourself getting tired as she continued to read, burying your face in the crook of her neck, her fingers absently stroking your hair as she recited old poems about love and passion.

Agatha smiled down on your sleeping form as she put the book away, careful not to wake you. She looked at your relaxed face, a little smile on your lips. You were beautiful. She had always thought you were but with her strict mother and the coven she had always pushed these feelings aside, having had more important matters at hand. But now, now there was no denying that she had fallen for you, had fallen for you a long time ago. The last couple of weeks had shown her that, she loved waking up to you bustling around the cabin, always finding new things to do. She realised that she never wanted to live without you ever again. The reason why you were here reminding her that her perfect little world could easily be crushed. The images of you laying on the forest floor still haunting her dreams sometimes, making her want to climb into your bed and hold you close, never ever letting you go. She had sworn herself that she would protect you, no matter what she had to sacrifice for it.

Gently getting up from the couch she picked you up, carrying you to your shared room, carefully placing you on your bed, tucking you under the covers she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Getting up to go to her own bed she felt your hand grasp hers, looking at you she saw you half asleep looking up at her with a loving smile on your face.

"Stay please."

Your request caught her off guard but she quickly caught herself as she climbed under the covers, you body cuddling close to her the minute she did. Wrapping her arms around you she pulled you closer, savouring the feeling of your body so close to her. She felt you bury your head in her chest, mumbling something that sounded an awful lot like I love you, her heart starting to pound faster at these words. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ears she closed her eyes, feeling happy and content as you fell asleep in her arms.

"I love you too angel, I love you too."

You woke to the sun shining through the window, grumbling you flicked your hand to draw the curtains when you heard a slight chuckle from behind you. Agatha. You remembered last night, how you had asked her to stay and how good it had felt to fall asleep in her arms, giving you the feeling of safety and home. You turned around to see her proped up on her elbow, a beautiful smile visible on her face.

"Good morning sweetheart."

"Have you been watching me all this time?"

Her cheeks started to turn a scarlet hue at your question. She nervously looked down at her hands, playing with little whisps of her magic.

"I didn't had the heart to wake you, you were sleeping so peacefully dear."

Now it was your turn to blush, your cheeks turning the colour of your magic that always surrounded you. It wavered around your hands, like the fog that surrounded your cabin in the mornings.

You looked at Agatha, messy hair framing her face, piercing blue eyes staring at you as if you were the single most important thing in the world, purple magic swirling around her hands. She looked like a goddess.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a hand caressing your face, you looked up to see Agatha hovering over your body, holding your hand, your faces so close you could feel her hot breath. You gave a her a short nod and at that she closed the gap in between the two of you.

Your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, her body flush on your. This kiss was everything you dreamed it would be and so much more. You felt like your nerves were on fire, the only thing you could feel was Agatha and her magic. It curled around you, making your skin tingle and cheeks flush, melting together with your own magic, intensifying the experience. You felt Agatha deepen the kiss and you let her, pouring all your emotions into it, never wanting it to end. You could feel every single emotion of the witch on top of you, happiness, adoration, joy, passion and love, so much love. You could feel her, feel her soul spark with joy as she finally had found you, finally had found the missing piece, her other half, her soulmate.

When you broke apart the room was basked in purple and coral light, your magic swirling around the room, connected with each other. You looked at Agatha who had a loving smile on her face. She pulled you up and you were basically pulled into her lap. Cradling your face you could see some tears in the corner of her eyes. Wiping them away she speaks, her voice not more than a whisper.

"Please tell me this is not a dream."

You shake your head and take her hands in yours, absently drawing small circles on them.

"No definitely not a dream."

At this Agatha smiles, crushing her lips on yours for another passionate kiss.

You knew the future wasn't gonna be easy but together you were unstoppable.

You had found your missing half, your soulmate.

[simpingforthisonedeer]

Chapter 6: Lips to the Pulse

Summary: Aika really forgot she isn't supposed to fall in love and get attached but does exactly that and breaks our favourite himbo's heart.

Notes: First of all, hi! It's been a while! sorryyy but this chapter is 7707 words long so I think i made up for it! This chapter also has actual smut! 🤺SO MINORS🤺STAY BACK🤺 I will post 2-4k every friday from now on but since its christmas next friday, i'll either post on the 23rd or the 26th 

If you are a mutual of mine that reads this fic, it's on sight for you hoes if you don't even comment a rating😤 like even a -10/10 is appreciated TvT

“What?” Julius shook his head and gathered his wits.

“Wait, so you can commune with the dead? I mean yes, you can but it’s a forbidden spell. You have no weg though?” His eyes lit up with a revelation. “Could Time Magic be considered otherworldly magic? Because that is the only way you can avoid getting weg.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Aika agreed as she led him to the living room. “but I still get weg but I don’t need a talisman or a seal to conceal it. Time is a concept that otherworldly realms also have except the realm of the Gods, so I would assume it could be considered otherworldly.”

“But just because it exists in other realms doesn’t mean it’s considered otherworldly. Plants exist in other realms, but they’re not otherworldly. Do we know what was the first realm ever created?”

Aika stifled a sigh as Julius took off his boots as he sat next to her on the sofa.

“He sure likes to edge himself,” she thought wryly as she fetched the fluffy blanket on the armchair and threw it over their laps as they planted their feet on the coffee table in front of them.

“‘The realm of the Devils was the first to be created in order to obscure the light of Gods and bring about reality.’ It’s one of the first things you learn about otherworldly magic,” she explained as she moved closer to his side.

“Well, time would’ve existed first in the Devil’s realm then…You think I could use weg magic too if Time Magic really is otherworldly?”

“Julius! Don’t even think about it! Trying to do weg magic without a teacher is quite dangerous.”

“Hehe, I got a teacher right here,” he quipped as he shifted around feet in a futile attempt to move the blanket comfortably under his feet. Aika jumped when his cold feet touched her ankle. 

“Woah, didn’t you just take your feet out of your boots?”

He rubbed the back of his head with an embarrassed smile.

“Haha, yeah. I’m always cold.”

“Well, it explains why you wear so many layers,” she grumbled as she shifted the blanket to cover his feet. She lit up when an idea struck her. 

“Here,” she spread her arms. “I’m warmer.”

Julius stared at her, his mouth open in small “O” before his eyes crinkled at the corners and he let out an amused laugh.

Aika knew she was done for when her heart danced to the sound of his laughter. She controlled her breathing and prayed that he heard nothing as he burrowed into her arms. He wrapped his arms around her waist and threw his legs over her thighs and she instinctively hugged him closer and huffed at how tactile he was.

“Thank you!” He looked up at Aika through his lashes, making her catch her breath. “Would you still teach me how to do weg magic?” He asked softly.

She melted under his gaze and pressed her cheek to his hair.

“Why do you want to learn? Do you want to talk to someone in the After?” Then she remembered. “Do you want to talk to your mother?”

Julius stiffened in her arms and she immediately backtracked “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes…” He admitted hesitantly. “She vanished the night I was born…” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. My stepmother, my mom, raised me with love and I’m grateful for her, but I’m just curious about my real mother. She vanished the night I was born. I just sometimes wonder who she was, what happened to her…” His father had always cursed his mother’s name and barely looked at Julius because of how much he reminded him of her. It was a good thing his stepmother came along and raised him as if he were her own.

He yawned and nuzzled against her collarbone. She shivered at the tender gesture and pressed a kiss to his hairline as he giggled.

“I guess you would be,” Aika said understandingly. “I was curious about my own mother too.” Julius looked up at her in interest. “I was adopted. The men who found me, well, they found me next to my mother’s body.”

He winced in sympathy and hugged her tightly.

“It’s alright. I didn’t know her but I tried contacting her in the After but...She kept blocking the connection for some reason…” Aika looked down at him as she smoothed his hair. 

Once upon a time, that rejection hurt, but she’s over it now. The men who found Aika found her freshly born, barely cleaned and the umbilical cord still uncut, lying in a misshapen basket next to her mother’s cooling body, whose throat was slit with a knife that was loosely held in the corpse’s hand. Something obviously happened to her and she didn’t want to talk.

“I can help contact your mother if she’s truly dead. You don’t have to do forbidden rituals,” she promised as she chased the dark thoughts away. While she didn’t remember anything about it, the story that they told her still haunted her.

Julius sat up as he pulled away and looked at her intently. His face was neutral but his eyes were searching. Aika grew nervous with the long silence.

Finally his eyes settled on her hairline as he asked, “Can you show me your weg?” A sharp sort of rejection zapped through her when he ignored her offer. She turned away, miffed. Of course she wasn’t going to show him her weg. Bringing it out meant having negative emotions at the forefront of her mind.

“That’s a very personal thing, Julius,” she grumbled to alleviate the seriousness welling up in her. He smiled with a huff. It would be a long while before they gained each other’s trust and Julius was a patient man. While it would be amazing to see what weg looks like first-hand, she wasn’t comfortable with it and that was okay. He can wait.

“There is another reason why I can’t teach you weg magic,” she began as she leaned on the armrest. “To use weg magic, you often need to channel and control your negative emotions to make it work, unfortunately. And the thing is,” Aika turned to him with a dark look. “I don’t sense much from you,” her eyes flickered down to his lap “except maybe frustration.”

Julius resisted the urge to sigh. There was no need for them to get so somber but it can’t be helped in the direction this conversation was going. He had asked her a lot of questions and made her reveal a lot about herself, but he said next to nothing about himself. That had to change if he needed her to trust him.

“You sensed right,” Julius confessed. “I am frustrated, but not in the way you think I am,” he stared melancholically at the faded crescent shaped scars in the palm of his hand. “I am frustrated by the way the elite think of other people, the way they get to control this kingdom to fit their selfish needs, the way they lack any compassion for people who are suffering. It may not seem personal but I’ve made it my duty to correct this kind of thinking.”

“See, that’s honorable and only frustration. Is there a memory or anything driving it? Like a traumatic event?”

Julius remembered Zara and his shining smile and how he was cut down by his own squadmates out of jealousy. He looked at his hand with a shaky breath.

“Yes.”

“Okay...Are you frustrated to the point of anger?”

“Yes.”

“Angry enough to kill?”

He remembered thanking the rain for hiding his tears as he laid the flowers over Zara’s grave. He remembered holding back from disintegrating the Purple Orca Knights where they stood as they celebrated Zara’s death. He thought of Zora, Zara’s son, and how bitter he turned out.

Julius turned to her with deadened eyes.

“Yes.”

Aika slackened as she sighed.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” she admitted as she cupped his cheek. “You’re a beautiful human being,” she whispered as she brushed his lashes with her thumb. He flushed under her gaze. “Killing is part of your job but it’s not driven by blind rage. Even righteous anger can be exploited by this magic. Weg will only encourage these negative emotions to fester and grow. I will not allow that to happen to someone I lo—”

She paused and desperately flipped through her mental dictionary. She hated that word.

“Someone I like.” There. That was better. She gave herself a mental pat on the back. While that was a good save, she quickly needed to change the subject or this was going to get awkward real fast. 

“But I will help you in any way you need. You want a Clover Kingdom with no discrimination? I’ve got many ideas!” She pulled a small notebook and fountain pen out of nowhere. It might’ve been a little extra but too late. “Let’s start with education, what is taught in etiquette for noble children, and the rest of the kingdom, what kind of attitudes we are encouraging. Then we’ll move on to deliberate economic oppression and think about policy changes. Let’s see how we can convince people in power to be more empathetic and just. A lot of things can change if we change the way this country thinks. I heard the Kira prodigy was going to become the new chairman soon. I think we can start there...”

Julius parted his lips in shock as he stared at her with dazzled eyes. Aika continued listing off ideas as she scribbled them in her notebook, completely unaware of the awestruck man next to her. 

He tackled her into a hug and wrapped himself around her again and moved her arm around his shoulder, encouraging her to hold him close. Julius didn’t know how to explain how grateful he was so he chose to show it instead.

Her book and pen slipped out of her hand as she hugged him back. Since Aika was already leaning on the armrest, he turned her completely to the side so he could lay half on top of her. 

Julius worried for a moment that he was being too forward but she wound her fingers through his hair and allowed him to rest his head on top of her pillowy chest. Aika readily wrapped her legs around his torso as she sighed contentedly.

“Thank you,” he whispered at last. “No one believes that this kingdom could change.”

Aika resisted the urge to snort. “Any state can change with a revolution.” He looked up at her mischievously. She brushed his cheek with the back of her hand with a barely suppressed smile. “Your not-so-little dream is a revolution and you’re lucky I can’t resist one.”

They grinned at each other before making themselves comfortable again. Julius reveled in the warmth of her embrace and shivered pleasantly when she wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. She gently began massaging his head and he felt like melting. 

A grin spread across his face when he realized that for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel any excitement tinged with lust, but rather excited to know that someone is ready to accept him, whether it was his touch, ideas, or his childish nature, someone who was ready to be a part of a bloodless revolution.

Julius turned his head and rested his chin lightly against her breastbone. Aika was already looking down at him with an affectionate look and he smiled back.

“Are you actually going to help me change this kingdom?”

“Of course. Why would I lie about such a thing?”

“I’m just making sure.”

He buried his face in her chest with a giddy smile.

“You’re a beautiful human being too.”

She scoffed lightly.

“Every part of that sentence is highly debatable.”

He giggled as he crawled up to her eye level. “No, I mean it,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are stunning. ”

Aika blushed fiercely.

“No, I’m not!”

“ And a human being too,” he continued as he peppered her face with kisses. “Absolutely kind, ferocious, wickedly smart.”

She slid down the armrest as she resisted the urge to hide her face.

“Stop it…” 

He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. She looked so delectable under him.

“Can I kiss you?”

Aika turned and pressed her lips to his in unspoken permission. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and groaned at the delicious way they slid against each other.

“Let me touch you,” he whispered hoarsely against her lips.

“ Please, ” Aika gasped as cold fingers slid underneath her sweater. Julius rubbed circles into her sides before he raked his nails up, making her shudder. She wound her fingers tighter around his short hair and kissed harder as she willed her Mana Hands to explore him.

He let out a surprised moan as he pressed his forehead against hers. She ran her hands down his back and hooked her fingers into his belt and pulled him closer as she wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing him closer to her aching core.

Julius hissed in pleasure as he rut into her and moaned as nails raked down his most sensitive areas. She quickly undid the belt holding his outer tunic together and helped him shrug off the vest and ran her fingers under his shirt. She explored his toned stomach with a pleased hum as he ground into her desperately. 

“ So needy, ” she whispered teasingly in his ear and gasped in surprise when his clothed length rubbed perfectly against her clit.

He groaned in reply and slowed down and pulled back to look down at her. Aika thoroughly enjoyed the image in front of her. Julius with his shirt hiked up, displaying a fit body, his lips red and hair all mussed up as he rolled his hips like an erotic dancer.

She teasingly ran a nail up the valley of his abs and he retaliated by pushing her shirt up past her bra. She watched with a pleased smile as he licked his lips at the sight before him. She wore a black, silk bra that barely hid the erect nipples standing at attention. He ran his hands up and squeezed her breasts lightly and pinched her nipples through the bra, smiling mischievously as he did. He noticed the clasp at the front and looked at her permissively. She nodded and let him undo it. As the silk fell, his jaw fell with it.

“Holy shit,” she heard him whisper as she cupped her tits with a wink.

Julius eagerly ducked his head as he covered her hands with his and licked a long stripe across her erect nipple and latched onto it greedily, sucking as he did. She arched into his mouth with a loud moan, glad that he was finally giving attention to her as well.

He switched to the other nipple, making sure that they both were completely erect before he pulled back to look at her with a dark look.

Aika squirmed under his gaze as her hand slowly inched towards her neglected clit. He observed voyeuristically as her hand disappeared under her skirt and cupped her mound. Julius locked eyes with Aika for an electric moment before she threw her head back as she pleased herself.

He watched for a few moments as she let out gaspy moans before he pulled her hand out and bit his lip at the sight of her glistening fingers. He took one lick of her fingers and groaned at the taste.

“Want to taste more?” Aika asked lowly as she spread her legs wider. He nodded as his nostrils flared at the smell of her arousal. She pulled Julius in for a featherlight kiss and touched his lips with her wet fingers and watched as he took them then into his mouth and sucked on them.

“Oh, you like using your mouth?” He nodded. She tightened her hold in his hair as he hissed and pulled him up for a sloppy kiss, a mash of tongue, teeth and lips.

“If you like using your mouth so much, how about you put it to a better use?” Aika growled as she guided his head down her body.

She hiked up her skirt and Julius’ breath hitched at the sight of her wet lace panties and the dagger strapped to her right thigh. He was completely pressed up against her just a few moments ago. How in the world did he miss that? 

Before he could speak, she unbuckled it with practiced ease and threw it to the side. He could ask more questions later, but for now, he focused on the meal before him.

Julius quickly helped her out of the panties and stared at her glistening folds in fascination before he lapped up the juices at her entrance. Aika muffled a cry at the sudden sensations and the feel of his lips and tongue all at once. She was suddenly, gloriously alive, every fibre of her being seemingly electrified in an instant. She revelled in the hot currents of desire coiling through her core, as every muscle tightened, waiting for the trigger that would release her.

He then moved up and covered her clit with his mouth and suckled on it. He rolled it in circles, delighting in the noises pouring out from her mouth, before an idea struck him.

He held her hips down with his hands, languorously stroking her clit with his tongue before speeding his movements with a touch of his Time Magic. Aika bit back a scream and let out a litany of curses as she bucked and squirmed into his mouth. Her legs twitched as a delicious kind of pressure built up in her core. She fisted her fingers in his hair, eliciting a moan from Julius and sending vibrations through her body.

She looked down at the sight between her splayed legs and it was the last straw for her. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his lips wet as his tongue flicked her clit in a near blur. She arched into his mouth with a loud groan as her orgasm crashed over her in an explosion of ecstasy; but Julius kept going on.

“Wait, that’s enough. Julius, please!”

He slowed down and let go of her clit with a pop. He looked up at her with a wolfish grin, satisfied with the mess he made of her. Her eyes were glazed over from, her baby hair was stuck to her forehead as she breathed heavily through parted lips. 

Julius rested his head against her thigh and stared at her with a small smile as she came down from her high.

Aika sat up slowly and brought him up for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. She pulled her sweater over her head and began kissing along his jaw as she whispered praises.

“Gods, you were so good, you know that? Used your mouth like it was made to eat pussy.” Julius groaned at her words. “You were such a good boy. Good boys like you deserve a reward, right?” He nodded eagerly as her hand inched down his chest.

“Please,” he whined as her hand curled around the inside of his thigh, not quite touching him. She slid off the sofa and kneeled between his legs as she grinned mischievously at him, but inside she was drooling at the thought of finally having his cock in her mouth. He stared at her, wide-eyed as he breathed harder in anticipation.

Aika looked between his impressive bulge and his darkened eyes.

“Can I?” She asked as her hands slid up his legs, feeling the muscles flex under her touch.

“Please,” he whispered again.

She stopped teasing him, getting impatient herself, and unbuttoned his pants and slid his boxers down. Aika’s jaw dropped as his stiff cock sprung up. It was freaking massive. The head was turning a dark shade of purple from being neglected for so long and veins covered his length. It was as long as her head and thick enough to stretch her lips over her limits. It looked delicious.

She mindlessly helped him out of his pants and then looked up at him to make sure he was doing okay. His face was flushed a deeper red than before, waiting patiently for her next move. 

“Please, Aika,” Julius humped at the air in front of her. “Please, I can’t take it anymore.”

Aika grew dizzy at the way he begged. She felt as if she was kneeling at the altar between his legs, praying up to the idol that lay in the middle. She was caught by the sudden urge to worship, to praise every inch of his skin. A bead of pre-cum gathered at the tip of his cock and all her restraint left.

Lush lips closed over the head of his cock and Aika sucked and sucked, moaning at the taste. Julius let out an incoherent yell as his hands flew to her head. He quite literally saw stars. It was an effort to hold back, to not thrust deeply in the hot cavern of her mouth as waves of pleasure enveloped him. 

“Fuck!”

She bobbed her head down as far as she could as one hand played with his taunt balls. Tears gathered at her lashes as the tip hit the back of her throat every single thrust.

Aika pulled back and sucked the tip harder as she swiped her tongue around the slit. She used her warm hands to pump his length as her Mana Hands roamed his body, playing with his sensitive nipples, wringing his head back by pulling his hair.

Julius did not hold back with his words. All kinds of praises rolled off of his tongue as he lightly thrust into her mouth.

“Fuck, you look so hot with your lips around me. Ah-you use your tongue so well. Mmm, just like that,” he groaned.

 Aika moaned when he twitched in her mouth. She understood that he was close, so she stretched her jaw wide, swiftly pressed forward and wrapped her lips around the base of cock as he came, whispering her name. Her eyes rolled back into her head as his thick load hit the back of her throat. 

She swallowed thickly and pulled back with a sigh and held his softening dick in one hand as she pressed featherlight kisses to the head.

“Are you okay?” Julius asked softly as he brushed the hair out of her face. Aika smiled as she continued kissing lightly down his length.

“I’m more than okay,” she murmured cheekily, nuzzling the downy hair at the base. She quickly climbed into his lap and straddled him while avoiding pressing down. She hugged him tight and buried her face in his neck.

“I liked choking on your dick,” she giggled.

“Hey!” He exclaimed as her words sent a thrill down his spine. “I can’t do a second round yet!”

In the end, they were both too tired for a second round. They had quite an eventful day after all. The two made their way to the bedroom upstairs to settle in for the night as they chatted quietly.

Aika handed Julius a pale green nightshirt and fleece pants to wear and went to go freshen up in the bathroom. He quickly put them on and jumped underneath the covers and shivered. Despite the normal temperature in the room, Julius was always cold, much to his dismay, but it was quite nice to bury himself in blankets and keep a comfortable temperature. 

He was staring pensively at the sheets when Aika walked out. She wore a shirt and comfortable shorts and had her arms behind her back as if she was hiding something.

 When he looked at her curiously, she revealed a pair of fluffy socks with a huge smile and waved them at him.

“Ta-da!”

Julius sat up with a chuckle. That was quite thoughtful of her.

“Are those for me?”

“Yes,” she sidled up to him. “I could keep your feet warm for you, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

“That’s...very nice of you.” She was one of the few people who wasn’t intimidated by him and spoke so frankly with him. Being with someone just as himself felt so new and interesting. He gave her one of his bright smiles. “Thank you.”

Aika fought off a blush and busied herself by putting the socks on for him. He pulled her up for a hug and held her close. She wrapped both her arms around his neck and fell back onto the bed. Julius pressed little kisses on her collarbone and neck and settled his head on her shoulder with a big yawn.

“Goodnight, Aika,” Julius murmured.

“Goodnight, Julius,” she whispered back and pressed a kiss to his hair.

She stared up at the ceiling for a moment before she understood that she wasn’t going to fall asleep tonight either. She sighed heavily into Julius’ hair.

Using forbidden magic had cost Aika a part of her humanity: the part that sleeps. She needed to be incredibly tired or sedated with horse tranquilizers to be put to sleep, there was simply no other way. In the beginning, it was jarring to not be able to sleep and a little harsh on her eyes for being open so long. When she tried sleeping again, she would be constantly plagued by inescapable visions of the future, the far-off future, like visions of a dark tree and the world being overrun by darkness, and it all starts in this kingdom. 

Aika was grateful she couldn’t see her immediate future unless she concentrated but visions of worlds ending and dead family weren’t good for her mental health either. 

She preferred to focus on the upsides like more time available for her to get her paperwork done and focus on things she enjoyed doing during the day or even travel and check in on her departments as she did.

Working for one of only four international companies makes Aika a pretty busy woman so she was grateful for the extra time. The company began as a means to establish a global spy and information network but it quickly escalated into an operation that dipped its toes into nearly every industry. She was particularly fond of the R&D and Education & Career development departments and paid very close attention to them. In fact, she had to approve a big budget change for a major building project from R&D. Something about finally figuring out how to use a counterweight to construct tall buildings and be able to withstand winds.

She eyed her backpack which rested on the desk against the wall on her side. It had all the papers that she needed to look over and sign. The paper explaining the details was rather long, so if she could finish going over it by the end of the night, that would be perfect.

Aika could use Mana Zone to extend the range of her Mana Hands spell to get that backpack but she could wake Julius up. She checked to make sure he was asleep and he was, quietly snoring away with a little smile on his face. 

She envied people who can sleep with a smile on their faces.

And just as she was about to reach for her bag, Julius shifted in her arms and looked up groggily.

“Wha—” He looked warily at the arm reaching out. “Go to sleep,” he sighed as he made himself comfortable again. “Let’s go on a date sometime. I’ll make a really good sandwich,” murmured sleepily before growing still again. 

What? A date? 

His words felt like she had been dunked with a bucket of ice water. Aika finally realized what she did, and more importantly what her drunk-self said. She really let him believe this was something romantic, didn’t she? Sure, she wished she could date, but in the end, she would screw it all up. All her past lovers had been amazing people, honorable people, but in the end, they’ve all just hated her. The aura of forbidden magic around just put them off. In fact, people closest to her, her family and friends, couldn’t spend too much time around her without their behaviour taking a turn for the worse. 

It was one of the reasons why Holly couldn’t spend too much time with her. It’s the curse of using forbidden magic so much, for so long. Her aura changes good people to turn into someone they are not. The loneliness must be really catching up to her because she forgot herself for a moment and let him in. If she hung around him for another week or two, he would go from being this sweet, adorable man to being an utter asshole to her and everyone around him.

She can’t do this.

Aika looked down at his messy, blond hair and listened to him breathe. He tilted his head back, eyes still closed and a small smile spread across his face.

Her mind went blank. Her heart beat harder in her chest. Butterflies she thought had died years ago had suddenly roared back to life. 

Her head hurt. She felt like crying.

She let herself be vulnerable too. She let herself fall for him, even if it’s just a little bit. She told herself to breathe. 

It’s someone you barely know.

But Aika knew damn well that some strangers have affected her life a lot in the first few moments she had met them. She looked at him again. Was he one of them?

She craved the intimacy, but in the end it was all ruined because of her stupid decison to study and master forbidden magic. Of course it was very useful and empowering, putting her at the top of the chain, but at what cost?

Aika simply couldn’t be around another person nearly 24/7 like she would be if she was in a serious relationship. She let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her eyes. It’s just a crush. It doesn’t matter.

She gently slipped his arms off of her and gave him a pillow as a substitute. He snuggled into it with another one of his adorable smiles, causing Aika’s breath to hitch. She gripped the sheets as she looked away and emptied her head. 

She had a lot of work to do.

Aika hummed tunelessly as she carefully pulled out the sfougato, a greek-style quiche-like omelette, from the oven. She finished reading the report from last night, washed Julius’ clothes, fixed the stone tablet protecting this house, destroyed the explosive token hovering in the living room, sent out her letters and even finished working out. 

She smiled at the night well-spent, but her mood was quickly clouded over by the fact that she had to turn Julius down. Not only that, but she also had to somehow salvage it to resemble some form of professionalism. 

If Aika was being honest, she liked Julius a lot. He was incredibly handsome, smart, strong and a Time Mage to boot. His most attractive traits were his kind eyes, his easy smile and most importantly, his willingness to be vulnerable. That sort of purity drew Aika in like a moth to a flame. She wasn’t kind, and she certainly didn’t smile often, but it was easy to be like that around him. Her guard did fly up once or twice but she wasn’t as high strung around him. She felt oddly safe.

She cut the quiche into slices and wiped her hands on her apron. She turned around and looked at the garden out her window. The rising sun felt warm and comforting on her skin, gently soothing the lump in her throat. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, soaking in the mana she could sense in the sun’s rays, mana that favored her because she raised a daughter born from its light. It was mornings like these that made her understand why her daughter worshipped the sun.

The sound of feet quickly bounding down the stairs broke her concentration. She turned around expectantly but she was quickly tackled by a hug before she could get a clear look at the man who had once again been plaguing her thoughts all night.

“Good morning, Aika,” he whispered into her hair as she reluctantly wrapped her arms around him.

“Morning, Julius.”

He pulled back and grinned down at her but she stared through him, eyes blank, knowing that once she truly processes the man she is talking to, her words would leave her and she wouldn’t be able to do what she needs to do.

And then he caught her lips with his, and with unprecedented passion that stole the breath from her lungs. Aika barely reciprocated, because just as quickly as he kissed her, he stopped. She licked her lips and tasted the faint coolness of mint. He was considerate enough to not kiss her with his morning breath… 

“I feel well-rested despite only sleeping four hours,” he murmured as Aika blinked quickly, fending off the unexpected emotions that welled up within her.

“I used a spell of mine to give you extra time to sleep. Here,” she offered him a plate of the sfougato. It was a peace offering for what was coming really. “I hope you like it. I’ll grate some more feta on it if you want.”

“Wait,” Julius looked at his plate in shock. “is this sfougato?”

Aika hummed affirmative as she looked away. She couldn’t bear to look at him in the face. She knew that once she did, her resolve would fall.

He cupped her cheek with one hand and kissed her again, this time much more sweetly.

“Thank you! My mother used to make them for me almost every morning!” He furrowed his brows when she stayed quiet. “Is everything alright? You’re so quiet.” Julius blushed as a thought struck him. “Does your throat hurt?”

The memories of last night set Aika’s heart racing again.

“No! That’s not the issue! I’m just,” she clenched her fists. “Quiet in the morning.”

“Oh, that’s alright then.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and moved to sit at the table. “Have you eaten yet?”

She turned and gripped the edge of the sink. Even his voice distressed her.

“Ah, no,” Aika answered nonchalantly. She could explain as they ate. She shrugged her apron off and turned around but she froze at the sight.

Julius cocked his head at her with a questioning look as he leaned on his hands. His face was half-illuminated by the morning sun, his violet eyes glittered like diamonds and his hair shone gold, casting an angelic halo.

He looked beautiful.

“Hey,” his expression grew worried and he set his plate down. “You are definitely not okay.” Julius quickly walked around the table and took her hands in his and wiped a stray tear. She blinked. She didn’t know she was crying. Usually, she would’ve been so embarrassed to cry in front of people, but why is she letting her guard down in front of him? “What’s wrong, Aika?”

His face was too close. She could clearly count the lashes framing his alarmed eyes. 

“Nothing,” she said quickly as she wiped her face. “Nothing’s wrong.” She sat down in the nearest chair and sighed. Julius leaned against the table and waited patiently. He tucked a long strand of her dark hair behind her ear as she spoke.

“I don’t think we should keep doing this.”

His hand fell. What? He must’ve misheard her.

“This would be unprofessional in the long-run.”

“But last night you said—”

“Last night, I was drunk,” Aika gritted out. Julius crossed his arms.

“I’m talking about after, Aika. What about the talk of revolution? What about after?” His face hardened. “Was it all to just get into my pants?”

“What?!” she barely held back her shock. She was not that desperate. “No!”

Julius’ sighed. His aura usually helped people to open up quicker unless they really don’t want to tell him. He took her hands again, kneeled down in front of her and rubbed slow circles with his thumb.

“Then please tell me why.”

Aika still refused to look him in the eye. This whole thing felt strange.

“I will be your associate and it would be unprofessional. I also have a daughter and I don’t know if you’re okay with that.” She was giving him bullshit reasons at this point because he really didn’t need to know her true reasons. He didn’t need to know how lonely she was. “I have an incredibly negative reputation on the international stage that would damage any prospects for you to network with helpful people if you and I are closely associated. You are a public figure and your reputation wouldn’t benefit from associating with a forbidden magic user and a peasant.”

Julius gulped thickly. He really didn’t care about those. He didn’t mind at all but Aika seemed so intent on pushing him away.

“Aika, please, I don’t care.”

“Well, you should! You should think about the long-term!”

His voice took a panicked tone. He thought this was going well but something’s wrong. This was him being selfish. He didn’t want to be lonely anymore. He was guaranteed to become Wizard King so she wouldn’t be a distraction. He was so excited for someone like her to be at his side.

“I am thinking about the long-term and I absolutely do not care,” He put his hands together. “Please, I’m begging you—”

“Stop,” Aika growled “Don’t.”

Julius slackened at the dark look on her face.

“What?”

“Stand up.” He froze, unsure of her command. “Did I stutter?” He quickly scrambled to his feet and took a step back as she stood up.

“First thing’s first,” Aika crossed her arms as her face grew stern. “don’t ever beg unless you are in the bedroom.” A blush raced across his cheeks. “Second, you barely know me. Third, there’s a war, more importantly, the finale, so please forget about this. I have to go inspect the outposts at the southern borders today before the paperwork from my main job comes pouring in. I advise you to think about your own work as well,” she took a deep breath. “You deserve better than this,” she motioned at herself. Aika desperately held the tears at bay as her mind screamed, 

You’re cursed! No one can love you anymore! And it’s all your fault!

“You are going to be the king of an entire kingdom. I promise to serve you to the best of my abilities. You’re going to need all the help you can get, but I can’t be your partner,” she hugged herself and looked away from his heartbroken face. Her words kept twisting a dagger in his heart. It was better to change the subject. “As I said, I’m not particularly a patriot but this continent, specifically Clover Kingdom, has been heading towards dark times. As a Time Mage, you can feel it too, right?” He gave her a nearly imperceptible nod though his eyes were still glassy. “You’re going to have to lead this country safely through those times, and out of respect for the country that had raised me, I will help you too.”

Julius closed his eyes and took a moment to compose himself. He wanted to run, his head hurt, he wanted to scream in frustration. 

“I understand your reasons and they are valid,” he resisted the urge to clench his fists. “And thank you. I’ll appreciate the help. I have also sensed a dark future for this kingdom and...having a second opinion on my hunch would be nice...I—” He rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms. He looked up and raked a hand through his hair, then looked down at her, his expression masked with a gentle smile. Even looking at her felt like torture to him, how could they ever collaborate on anything? She had given him such great hope, and then she dashed it all. “I had a lovely time.”

Aika smiled back hesitantly, though her nails dug into her arm.

“I did too...Your clothes are washed and folded on the vanity in my bedroom,” she mumbled. He noiselessly teleported away and he was instantly back, fully dressed. She opened her mouth to ask how? But snapped it shut when she remembered that she wasn’t the only Time mage around anymore. He looked regal and handsome, put-together like a leader as he adjusted his collar. But his carefully neutral expression barely hid the hurt glimmering in his eyes. He was still a man too, a man whom Aika had deeply hurt with her unexpected rejection.

She moved as quickly as he did and packed the slice of sfougato in a box.

“It’s for you.”

“Thank you.”

Aika nearly jumped when her fingers brushed with his. They were soft and cool to touch. For a moment, she wanted to reach out and hold his hand, cradle his face and watch him lean into her touch like he did last night.

“May I ask you one favor?”

Her lavender eyes flickered up to his violet ones when he spoke.

“Yes?”

He squared his shoulders and looked at her solemnly.

“May I have one final kiss?”

Her heart leapt to her throat as she stared at him in shock. Was that a good idea? She was struggling to push him away and this would not help her. But, it was too late because her hand was already reaching for his face.

Aika cupped his cheek and his hand covered hers with a deep sigh. Julius let her touch be burned into his memory. She stood closer to him and tugged him down. As their noses brushed against each other and when his yearning gaze met hers, her guard fell and she gave in.

Her lips crashed with his with a desperation she vowed to never stoop to, but here she was, her walls being struck down one-by-one with each passing second, consumed by his frenzied kisses. Julius wound one hand into her hair and another around her waist pulling her tight as he desperately prayed that she’ll change her mind.

Julius pulled back so they could catch their breaths and pressed his forehead against hers as he waited for a response.

“Julius…” Aika whispered.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

His arms tightened around her momentarily and then he let go. As she opened her eyes, the last thing she saw were tears that teetered on the edge of his lashes before he vanished, gone like he was never there.

Her hand reached out as if to catch him but it was too late. The moment he left, Aika could distinctly feel the hollowness in her chest, like something was missing. Though he was cold, the kitchen felt colder without him.

She stood frozen in her spot and lightly touched her chest when the regret set in. She replayed his smile, his dazzled eyes, the way his soft hair threaded between her fingers— 

“Miss Aika!” A familiar voice broke jarringly through the misery that was clouding her mind.

Was that Jayce?

“We can see you in the kitchen, Miss!” Ellie exclaimed as she knocked on the door to the backyard. Her maid was here too…

Aika quickly changed gears, unconvincingly telling herself that everything from last night to a few seconds ago was just a fever dream, and threw on a pleasant smile before opening the door.

Jayce waved an envelope in front of her face with a boyish grin, too bright and awake for 6 A.M. Ellie and Evan on the other hand, look like they’ve been through it.

“Mister Arthur asked me to give this to you first thing in the morning!” Jayce explained as he swaggered in, gravitating towards the pan of sfougato. Aika plucked the envelope out of his hand as she took measured breaths to ease the tremors in her hands. 

“It was weird that he came to the headquarters so late but he said it was urgent,” he explained.

“Good morning, ma’am,” Evan greeted with a slow bow of his head and Ellie gave her a simple hug, too tired to even speak.

“Good morning to you too, kids,” Aika looked between them suspiciously “but do all three of you need to be here to deliver an envelope?”

“We came here for breakfast,” Ellie said bluntly as all three of them sat down at the table. “The chefs at the headquarters are too busy because Master Raymond is stress-eating again.”

“Oh, alright,” Aika sighed as she pressed a hand to her forehead. “You three can join me,” she said as she stared at the wax seal. It was the official Pascere Syndicate logo. She rolled her eyes. It was probably information or an assignment, but going by the thin envelope, it was probably an assignment.

“Save me a slice,” she warned as she turned away to read the letter.

Her eyes skimmed through the obnoxiously elitist greetings that Arthur loves to write “ironically” and she came to find that yes, it was an information-gathering and networking assignment as her side-job as a Special Envoy to the Syndicate, and it was on— 

The threesome jumped in alarm when the letter in Aika’s hand exploded into flames. They quickly surrounded her in concern as Evan stamped the fire out but froze when they noticed the dangerously blank look on her face.

Aika controlled her magic, lest she suffocated her associates. She had unfortunately set the letter on fire before she could read the clear details of her assignment, so she would have to go ask Arthur for the details herself. While she was at it, she might as well set him on fire too.

The subject of her assignment was Heir Presumptive to the Wizard King of Clover Kingdom, Julius Novachrono...The last person Aika wanted to see right now.

Notes: Next chapter, depending on the length, it will for sure include a brief scene or two from the final battle and Julius' coronation, the aftermath and a sneaky assassination attempt, this time, for Julius ;)

btw this is the picture I drew for this chapter!!!

[cinaja]

Before the Wall Part 17

Summary: Five hundred years before Feyre Archeron is born, the world is much different from the one she lives in. Humans are slaves, seen as little more than animals by the Fae who rule. But things are beginning to change. Talks of rebellion is spreading and on the Continent, some Fae territories begin to consider the potential gain of War. All it takes is one spark and everything will explode.

Masterlist

----

Miryam should have seen it coming. After all, she knows Ravenia – she has seen the female slaughter entire families over minor insults. Sending an army to punish Miryam for her defiance is just the Queen`s style.

She takes a deep breath and turns to Mor. "I want you to winnow to the closest camps, see if you find anyone close enough to send help. Without support, we can last..."

"Two hours", Jurian finishes for her, "Three at most before the losses become catastrophic."

Mor nods sharply. "I'll do what I can. And try to be back before the battle starts." Without another word, she vanishes.

"I'll put up wards",Miryam says. It's the only complicated spell she is somewhat positive she can manage without getting herself killed. "Maybe it will buy us time."

"Do it, then." Jurian hesitates for a heartbeat. Then, he pullsher close and kisses her gently. "I love you."

It feels far too much like a goodbye. And if Jurian is saying goodbye, that means they likely won`t make it. But Miryam can`t accept that – she can`t.

"And I love you", Miryam says, "But we won't die today."

Jurian smiles slightly. "As my lady commands." He gives her a mocking bow and rushes off.

Miryam makes the most of the hour they have left. While Jurian rallies their army, she sets up a circle. This one is the most powerful she has ever created, the symbols lining the edges drawn in her own blood. Around the camp, she sets up markers to show the ends of the wards. She tries not to tell herself that every life in this camp may depend on her ability to set up functioning wards.

Back in her circle, she flips open the book and starts talking. The spell is long, spanning almost three pages in the book. It is by far the most complicated one Miryam has ever tried. Still, she does not allow herself to be scared. Fear, she learned, is the fastest way to lose control. She doesn't want to find out what will happen if her power slips her leash in the middle of a spell like this.

By now, at least, she knows enough to understand what the individual parts of the spell do. First, activating the circle and anchoring her to the ground. Then, drawing power from the surroundings to her. Calling up on the strings. And finally, carefully, weaving them together to form a line of protection. She is just finishing the final words, tying up the ends neatly, when the second alarm starts ringing, loud and panicked. Hastily, Miryam finishes the spell and runs out of her tent.

Jurian choose not to have their army meet the enemy on the field, but instead defend their camp as long as possible. It means that should the Fae break through, they will have nowhere to retreat, but in open battle, they would be annihilated within less than an hour.

Everywhere in the camp, soldiers are running around. Miryam pushes through the chaos until she reaches the middle of the camp, where the healers have set up their camp.

"Everything ready?", she asks.

The other healers nod. Miryam looks up at the sky and sees Kiel circling above. she raises her arm and the falcon comes shooting down to land on her arm.

"Good, thank you", Miryam says, "I'll take a quick look at the battle, please tell me when the first wounded arrive."

She slips into Kiel's body easily. Half a thought has the falcon taking off and soaring towards the camp's border. She makes sure to keep him high in the sky and well away from any stray arrows that might hit him. (She feels bad enough about using his body already, even though the falcon doesn't seem to mind. Still, the last thing she wants is for him to get hurt.)

The Black Land's army is huge. More than five thousand, by Miryam's quick count. Far more. There is no sign of Ravenia, Artax or one of the Black Land`s other witches, but it`s a brief relief. The army approaching will kill them just as quickly.

The soldiers take its time to draw closer. They don't immediately attack, but surround the camp in neat, organised lines. Their own soldiers are already in their defence positions, holed up behind walls, spikes and other protections.

Miryam watches as the enemies set up catapults. Strange. Fae usually don't use siege weapons like catapults - why would they, when magic is so much more efficient? They haven't even shot the first volley of arrows yet, or attacked the shields with their magic. Miryam considers having Kiel fly closer to take a look, but decides against it.

The Fae load the catapults with something. Something round. Stones? The soldiers fire, the projectiles bounce off harmlessly on the wards. Now, they are close enough for Miryam to see what it is they are shooting. Not stones, as she first thought.

Heads.

Hundreds of them. Close to a thousand. And through Kiel's sharp eyes, Miryam sees exactly who they belonged to.

Miryam snaps back into her own body. She stumbles a step to the side and presses her hand to her mouth. One of the other healers reaches out for her.

"What happened?", the woman asks.

"She killed them", Miryam whispers. She curls her hands to a fist to keep from shaking.

"What? Who?"

Miryam just shakes her head. This is her fault. She shouldn't have taunted Ravenia, shouldn't have thought that the Queen would let her get away with it. That she would let the insult of her former slave challenging her, of a half-breed like Miryam having a power that her people consider sacred, slide. Ravenia might not have been able to reach her - but there were thousands of others already at her mercy.

And from the way it looks, Ravenia chose to get back at Miryam through her people. By having the other half-Fae slaves killed. All of them, by the looks of it.

A thousand of the people she swore to free, dead.  Because of her.

Miryam focuses on her breathing. She can't break down, not in the middle of the camp where everyone can see. Most certainly not in the middle of a battle. So she straightens.

"I'll check on the supplies", she says, "Please excuse me."

She finds a bag with healing supplies and carefully begins to sort through it. Her hands move seemingly on their own, she barely notices what she's doing. She is almost glad when the first wounded arrive and she can focus entirely on her work.

----

Mor has spent the last hour winnowing from one camp to another. Trying to get the camp commanders to grant her an audience. Then, always hearing the same answer: They are too far away, their soldiers will not get there in time. They can try, but it will be no use.

So Mor keeps going. With each passing minute, her unrest grows. Have the Black Land soldiers already reached the camp? Has the fighting started already? She wants nothing more than to winnow back to their camp and help her friends, but her task is a different one. Much as she may hate it, she cannot return without hope for the others. She needs to find them an army.

When she reaches the Sangravahn camp, she knows it is no use. This camp is two days away from their army, any help she might find will only arrive in time to bury the corpses. But by now, Rhys should be here and maybe he will know what to do. He might have an idea.

She doesn't bother going to the camp commander. Instead, she goes straight to the Illyrian camp. The guards let her through without question, although they do shoot her annoyed looks. Rhys is just in the middle of dealing out a punishment - Mor flinches at the sound of snapping bones - but he stops and turns to her when she approaches. One look at her face has him frowning at her.

"What's wrong?"

Hastily, Mor summarizes the situation.

Rhys curses softly. "We're too far away. Even if I were able to winnow them all for a part of the way..." He shakes his head. "We would still be too late."

"But there has to be something we can do!", Mor says, "I can't return to the camp without anything to show for."

Rhys frowns. "Have you tried Prince Drakon's army yet? We met them a day ago, they were traveling north. They might be close enough."

"Where?", Mor asks. She has to fight the urge to winnow right away.

Rhys describes the place where they met as well as he can, then adds, "They were headed for Pelior's camp."

"Oh, that bastard", Mor hisses. Pelior's camp was one of the first she visited and the commander did not think to mention to her that they had an army incoming. If they survive this, she is going to have his head. "Thank you."

Rhys nods, face grave. "Be careful."

Mor gives him a brief smile and winnows.

Searching for an army without knowing where exactly to look turns out to be far harder than Mor thought. She winnows into thin air, looks around and vanishes again within the span of a heartbeat. This way, she can cover more terrain than she normally could, but it's also exhausting. Even for someone with Mor's considerable magic abilities, it's not something she can keep up forever.  And there is no sign of any soldiers.

Just when she is about to turn back to the camp and ask for assistance, she winnows into the middle of an army. She has to winnow again almost immediately or risk falling into thin air. The soldiers notice her and whisper amongst each other, frowning at the strange girl falling through the air. Someone gives the signal to land. Relieved, Mor winnows to the ground.

A male and a female land in front of her, both of them brown-skinned and dark-haired with startling white wings. Prince Drakon and the General leading his army, Mor assumes. She bows, doing her best to remember the Continental customs Miryam has been trying to teach her. Prince Drakon returns the gesture. (Mor is halfway sure he is doing it wrong, but that's likely just her mixing things up).

"Can we help you?", he asks.

Mor runs a hand through her hair, trying to straighten it. "I come from Jurian's camp", she says, "they are under attack. You are the only army that's close enough to help, you need to come."

Prince Drakon watches her for a heartbeat, then turns around, looking ready to give the fitting order. His general grabs him by the arm, stopping him.

"I assume", she says, "that you have the appropriate papers to back your claim."

Mor has to keep from cursing. She starts fishing around in her pockets and finally produces a letter. She holds it out to Prince Drakon, the general reads over his shoulder.

"The seal is broken", she point out.

"Of course it is!", Mo hisses, her temper slipping her leash, "because I already had to show it to a dozen different commanders! Now if you'd just come help us before all my friends end up dead, it would be really great!"

The general turns to Prince Drakon. "I hope you realize that this could easily be a trap."

"Yes. But if it isn't, we'll be responsible for thousands of our allies dying", he says, "We fly immediately."

Mor sags with relief. "Thank you. I'll pass the message on." She inclines her head to Prince Drakon and winnows.

----

Half an hour into the fight, the wards are still holding, but holes are beginning to appear. Some soldiers have been injured by stray arrows or Fae who managed to break through. Jurian doesn`t even want to know what will happen once the wards break. He doubts they will last long.

For the moment, though, their biggest problem is troop moral, which is not looking good. Having heads shot at you, it turns out, is even worse for morale than being surrounded by an army hell-bent on killing all of you. Jurian has been running around the camp for the past hour, trying to calm his soldiers - sometimes with reassuring words, sometimes by snapping at them to get their shit together. At least Miryam seems to be holding it together.

Jurian is just about to return to his post when Mor comes running towards him. She comes to a skidding halt in front of him.

"I got reinforcements", she says, "We'll only have to hold out for another hour."

"An hour." Jurian nods. Somehow, he doubts that the wards will hold out this long. He can just pray that they will manage.

"Good job", he tells Mor, "Now, go help out at the western side of the camp. I'll be east."

The wards don't collapse all at once. Instead, they slowly give in. Holes appear and grow bigger by the second. Their enemies' fire magic shoots through. Once the holes are big enough, the soldiers give up their attempts to shatter the wards and instead advance through the holes.

Jurian calls out an order to his soldiers and runs for the nearest hole.

----

Even though Drakon had his army fly as fast as possible without having them be too exhausted to fight, they almost arrive too late. By the time they reach the camp, the wards are already failing. From his vantage point in the air, Drakon can see tents burning like pyres and human soldiers trying desperately to hold the lines. They break out into cheers as they notice the approaching army.

Drakon orders his army to split up into two groups. He takes charge of the left flank while Sinna flies right. Below, the Bkack Land soldiers are already rallying against the threat. Arrows start flying, one buries itself deep into Drakons's shield. Fire magic follows, shooting through the air towards them.

The battle turns chaotic almost immediately. Drakon only barely manages to dodge a bust of flame, the heat singes his arm. Through the smoak in the air, it soon becomes hard to make out anything.

It`s at least as bad as the battle at the Callian pass. This one lacks the horror of being his first battle, but it makes up for it by being infinitely more chaotic. Drakon`s soldiers are at the disadvantage against the Black Land soldiers, who only have to hold their ground and kill as many as possible.

Drakon flaps his wings a few times and quickly soars higher to get an overview of the battle. On the far left, his soldiers are floundering and he shouts an order to have the lines reinforced. Then, he shoots back down into the fray.

Ever so slowly, the tide of the battle begins to turn. The Black Land soldiers retreat, but they make them pay in blood for every inch of ground.

A wave of fire rushes towards Drakon, his shields shudder under the onslaught. He banks aside, loses his shield in doing so. He frantically flaps his wings, trying to fly higher, but a burning pain shoots through his leg, making him sway in the air. When Drakon looks down, he finds an arrow lodged in his tight. Then, there is another burst of pain, this time in his back. Drakon roars in pain.

He tries to steady himself in the air, but his body won't obey. Everything hurts. Then, he is falling.

----

They win the battle. At least that's what Jurian says when he talks to the soldiers afterwards. Miryam has a hard time calling any battle that ended with roughly a thousand of their soldiers dead a victory. Saying that they "didn't lose" would be more fitting.

The losses are catastrophic. Even worse are the amounts of wounded soldiers. To the usual varying kinds of stab wounds and blunt force trauma comes a sheer unending amount of burns of varying severity. The entire camp, it seems, has been turned into a wasteland of burned tents and screaming wounded.

There are far too few healers to tent to the wounded. Since the Fae had to rush here as fast as possible, they left all non-fighters, including their healers, behind. Meaning that they now have to stretch out the human camp's healers to also tend to the Fae. Miryam has to snap and order at her healers to get them to distribute evenly, instead of only helping their own soldiers and leaving the Fae to die. In the end, she decides to head out onto the battlefield herself.

If Miryam thought the camp was bad, it is nothing compared to what waits beyond the wards. Some of the wounded, she notices, are enemy soldiers. There are already some of Jurian's soldiers walking around, dealing with them. On another day, she might have argued, but the image of the severed heads is still fresh in her mind. Still, Miryam looks away as one of their soldiers angles his sword over a wounded Black Land Fae.  She may hate these people, but that doesn't mean that watching them die brings her any joy.

The first three of their allies Miryam finds are already dead. The fourth is only lightly injured and Miryam hastily instructs him on how to bandage his own wounds and hurries on in search of one of the worse cases. The fifth soldier she finds doesn't have wings anymore. His entire back is an unrecognizable mass of burnt flesh.

Hastily, Miryam kneels down next to him. She has to fight to keep a curse in as she assesses the damage. The bleeding isn't too bad, but there is little Miryam can do to fix burns this bad. She carefully cleans the wounds, glad that the soldier is unconscious and doesn't have to endure the pain. Then, she apples a soothing salve and wraps bandages around the male's back. She finds a soldier that can still stand and orders him to carefully bring the male back to the camp.

Miryam is just about to hurry on when she hears someone calling for a healer. She shoulders her bag and runs towards the voice. She finds a female in a dirty armour kneeling on the ground next to a male. When she sees Miryam, she jumps to her feet.

"You're a healer?"

Miryam nods. She kneels down next to the male - and nearly drops her bag when she recognizes him.

"What's wrong?", the female asks. There is something like panic hidden behind the sharpness in her voice. "Do something!"

Miryam doesn`t answer. How is she supposed to explain that this is the male who freed her from slavery almost three years ago? She certainly couldn't put what she is feeling into words. But she certainly will not let him die, so she carefully begins to examine his wounds.

"What happened?", she asks, if only to give the female something to do other than stare at her with a mixture of panic and mistrust.

"He was hit by an arrow and fell out of the sky." She shakes her head. "I was too far away to do anything.”

Miryam nods. She can see the tip of the arrow poking out of his back. She prays that it didn't hit anything vital.

"Will he make it?" This time, the female doesn't even try to conceal her worry.

Under normal circumstances, Miryam would not answer a question like that at this point - nothing is worse than giving someone hope only to rip it away. But this time, she nods.

"Yes, he will."

Miryam applies a salve to numb the pain before she draws her knife and begins cutting out the arrow. Still, Prince Drakon thrashes in her grip almost as soon as she begins. Miryam curses.

“Help me hold him”, she tells the female who is still sitting next to her.

She proceeds carefully. The arrow is pretty damn close to lots of vital organs and the last thing Miryam wants to do is hit any of them accidentally. To make matters worse, it`s made of ash, so she has to be absolutely sure that no splinters remain in the wound.

Miryam is almost done when Prince Drakon jerks awake. He stares at her wildly, eyes unfocused.

“You…”, he whispers, breathing hard. “You can`t be here.” Then, he slumps again.

“I´m sorry”, the female says, wincing slightly, “He`s confusing you for-“

“No”, Miryam says. She turns back to her work. “No, he isn`t.”

----

A/N: I`m so sorry for the delay in the updates. I was busy the past days, and kind of unmotivated. But I promise the next chapter will be up faster!

Tags: @sjm-things @herpowerisdeath

[meetthetank]

Peccatum Chapter 10: The Engine in the Woods

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata), Jackass/The Commander (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), 6O (NieR: Automata), 21O, Jackass (NieR: Automata), The Commander (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, genre typical violence, long fic, Slow Burn, War

“Wow. Okay 11S, you win the bet,” 801S grumbles, fishing a handful of coins out of his pockets.

“Honestly I’m just as surprised as you are. I can barely talk to you guys for a mile straight, let alone fifteen,” he gestures to 9S and 2B who walk ahead of the group.

“They’re attached at the hip and they don’t even know.”

“They don’t have a clue.”

32S sighs, “If they end up together that’s one less scout in the group. We’d be down to the four of us.”

“Give Nines some credit,” 801S says, “It’s not like him to just leave his friends for a pretty girl.”

“Except that’s exactly what just happened.”

11S points to 9S veering off into the dense forest with 2B following close behind.

“Oh I’m gonna kill him.”

Despite being in the middle of a grueling march into uncertainty, 9S has an infectious spring in his step. He and 2B lead the scouts by nearly a mile for no other reason than they haven’t noticed.

They talk the entire time; well, 9S talks the entire time. 2B occasionally chimes in on something he says, but for the most part she walks in silence. The difference is that she looks at him with that adorable head tilt and a curious gaze . She seems actually interested in what he has to say, listening to him go on and on about the most inane of topics, such as his endless attempts to beat the Commander in gungi, and it makes his heart flutter.

It’s not the first time 9S has felt this kind of puppy love, far from it, but this is the first time that someone has reciprocated. Or at least he thinks she reciprocates. Sometimes he has trouble differentiating between what’s real and what’s imagined.

He knows he’s not imagining the subtle upward twitch of her lips when he starts rambling off about his list of strategies for the next gungi match.

“Maybe I should teach you how to play one day.” he says to her, smiling from ear to ear.

“Uh...I’m not sure I’d be much of a challenge.”

“Aw, it’s not about the challenge, it’s about having fun!”

“You were just comparing beating your commander to ‘a light genocide’.”

“Yeah but that’s different.” 9S scoffs and waves his hand dismissively, “That’s a rivalry that spans years!”

“Does White know that?”

“Not yet.”

2B covers her mouth with her hand, stifling a giggle. 9S feels his jaw go slack and his whole world slow to a crawl. He’s never heard her laugh before, let alone at something he said. Heat rises in his cheeks and his ears, and he swears his heart skips a beat or two.

“Are you trying to catch flies like that?” she teases.

“I-...uh- No just-....” 9S stammers, “Yawning.”

2B simply cocks an eyebrow up but doesn’t press him further. Shaking the stupor away, he jogs back to her side and tries to smooth over the awkward silence with whatever comes to his mind first. However, a sharp pain stabs at the base of his skull, making him hiss through his teeth.

“9S? What’s wrong?” 2B asks and places a hand on his shoulder.

“Nothing, nothing,” he lies, “Just uh...got the sun in my eyes.”

“...It’s been overcast all day.”

He looks up if only to avoid making eye contact with her, “Ah, so it is…”

They lapse into silence once again while 9S forces himself through the piercing headache. Simply walking in a straight line becomes difficult and he ends up bumping into 2B on more than one occasion. He believes he hears her tell him to stop and rest, but he just waves his hand dismissivly. It’s hard to hear anything over the sound of his own pulse.

Except for...something. The faint giggling of children and dissonant tones of some bizarre instrument. It makes his skin crawl and the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The forest, the well trod path, even 2B all blur together as the sounds grow louder. Dread takes hold of 9S’ heart when something red flashes in the corner of his vision. His hand flies to the hilt of his spear and 2B follows suit with her own blade out of reflex, but the only thing lurking in the shadows are small forest animals.

“...9S?”

“I’m...fine.”

Just behind where 2B stands, he sees them. Those two girls in red. They flash in and out of his vision, laughing at him. Taunting him. 9S stops in his tracks and shuts his eyes. In the past, these hallucinations would pass on their own if he just sat down and thought about anything else. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. All he has to do is wait and they’ll go away on their own. Don’t listen to their laughter, don’t listen to what they tell him to do. 

Don’t listen to what they say about 2B.

Their words make him sick to his stomach, not just from content alone, but they feel as if they’re being poured into his ears. He could do everything in his power to block his hearing, and the giggling of those awful girls would still pierce inside his head

You there...boy.

A deep bellowing voice cuts through his mind. The visions dissipate as the voice echoes against the forest. Even 2B stops in her tracks, the downy feathers hidden beneath her hair shifting and giving it the impression of volume. 

Little spawn. Who are you?

A breeze blows through the trees from a deeper part of the forest, far off the trail, bringing with it the smell of wood and various flora. Nostalgia wells up in 2B’s chest at the scent alone and she almost finds herself wandering in the direction of the wind by instinct alone. The only reason she stops is to not abandon 9S.

Come here, little one. Leave the reptile behind.

However, 9S brushes right past her and into the forest.

“9S?” she calls after him and follows the path he creates through the brush.

2B follows close behind, deftly navigating the uneven terrain where 9S stumbles and crushes branches underfoot. She calls his name and even tries to stop him physically, but he keeps pushing his way further and further in. 

Not far now, Little Spawn.

The booming voice in 9S’ head is oddly calming, like the voice of the kindly grandparents he never had, or a groaning old oak tree. It’s so much different than the girls in red that he has to know the source. He moves in a trance, barely aware of 2B following him or the twigs and thorn bushes that prick at his legs. The forest becomes so dense that it blocks out most of the sunlight and simply walking becomes difficult. Bird songs and the leaves in the wind are just as deafening as the droning voice drawing him further in.

They come to a wall of foliage, thick ivy and gnarled branches that blocks their progress, but just as 2B begins to urge him to turn back 9S takes a small hatchet out off his belt and begins hacking away at the shrubs. With a sigh, 2B begins helping by slashing a path through at a much faster pace. 9S pays her no mind, too far entranced by whatever he’s feeling to notice her, until 2B yanks him through the hole she carved into the dense foliage.

Whatever she was expecting it certainly wasn’t this.

In the middle of a massive clearing sits the corpse of some sort of creature. Nature covers most of its body, but 2B can make out the shape of its armored shell from which great pipe like structures jut out, and six legs as thick as the oldest tree trunks. The hundreds of jagged claws that cover its feet could be mistaken for ancient stones as well as the teeth that sit in the center of its long leathery neck. The only thing that stands out and isn’t covered in forest growth is the smooth black thing at the end of its neck. 

Just the sight of this corpse ignites a deep rooted fury within 2B. She has no idea where the feeling came from, but all of the sudden she wants to destroy what remains of it. To grind it into dust and leave nothing standing. No trace of this...thing that doesn’t belong in this world. 

...Doesn’t belong in this world…

She’s felt this before, this instinct. 

So why doesn’t he illicit this?

9S stands in awe of the corpse, dwarfed by the sheer mass of it. He barely comes up to the tip of the glassy structure, and each of its teeth are as big as he is. Never in his life did he’d see something like this, even in an army meant to fight monsters. Is this thing even real? The only thing he can do to be sure is to reach out and…

The moment his hand touches the glassy surface a low hypnotic drone reverberates through his whole body, and causes the girls in red to vanish completely from his mind. Even their whispers and giggles fade into nothingness. 9S leaps backwards when six, glowing green eyes flicker to life just beneath his hand. They shift in position in pattern, until they arrange themselves in a V shape pointing directly at him.

Something rattles in 9S’ skull like the droning noise that this creature makes but far more articulated and potent. He recoils back only to lose his footing when 2B throws him behind her, sword drawn and a growl in her throat.

“Hmph,” the beast says, a large cloud of steam leaving its mouth, “You carry our blood, yet do not speak our tongue?”

2B lets out a snarl and raises her sword to strike, still keeping herself between 9S and this massive creature.

“Stow your fangs, reptile. I cannot harm you.” it says, “My body has been broken for a long time.”

“2B, put the sword away,” 9S says, putting his hand on her tense shoulders, “If it wanted to hurt us it would have done so already.”

She snarls at him but reluctantly sheaths her sword in her back scabbard. Her eyes never waver from their lock on the massive creature’s body. 9S tries to put himself in between it and 2B, but a low hiss from her keeps him in place next to her.

“What are you?” 9S asks.

It lets out a low sound that’s similar to a laugh, “I thought I smelled ape on you. Only they would be so ignorant. I am Engine 34287 Batch 57. I believe the apes called my kind City Breakers or Engles.”

“Engles...I’ve heard about you. Or...not specifically you, but about City Breakers. I had no idea you were...living things.”

“Feh,” Engles laughs,  “Demons are as alive as apes and the creatures of this realm. Though we are manufactured and cultivated, we live just the same.”

“Manufactured?” something akin to disgust and hate rises in 9S’ gut, “You mean demons are...products?”

“We are weapons. Each of us has a purpose, a function we are designed to do. I was meant to break down the crude walls of your capitals, but as you can see I did not live to fulfill that purpose.”

“I don’t understand,” says 9S, stepping closer to it, “Did something stop you? Some weapon harmed you?”

“HA! No ape construct could pierce my hide. No, my body could not handle the strain of this world. My legs ceased functioning not long after I entered.” 

“Did anyone try to fix you?”

Engles shifts its head to the right and then the left, “No. My escort legion left me to rot, as I was no longer of use. The Terminals stopped giving me instructions not long after.”

“The Terminals?” he says, “You mean the girls in red? You see them too?!”

2B shoots him a strange look at the mention of his hallucinations. He’ll have to remember to assure her he isn’t crazy. Probably.

“Saw. Of course I saw them, ape. They are our creators. Our masters. Even one with infernal blood as diluted as yours would hear their call.”

9S feels sick to his stomach. The thought of finding himself in any way similar to the demons repulses him to his very core. A portion of his back, where his tail would be if it were visible, begins to ache with the phantom pains of attempted self mutilation. With great effort he suppresses the nausea and hatred for the sole purpose of gathering more information directly from the mouth of the enemy.

“Why...why didn’t you call for help?”

“Oh I did, little ape, I did. I called for...I don’t recall how long I called for help. Eventually I accepted my fate and found peace here as the forest grew around me. I became a home for many creatures I once found vile. Your realm is...far more beautiful than I believed,” Engles laboriously turns his head to 2B, “It only took me some centuries to see why your kind defended this place so fiercely, reptile.”

2B can’t hide the shock in her expression. Never in her life would she expect a demon to...understand. 

“Wait, what?” 9S interrupts, “I don’t get it. In every story I’ve read about the past Demon Wars, it was always the Angels that turned the tide.”

“In major battles, yes, but the High Enochians could care less about your realm. They only wish for us to fail, as it has been since the Alpha Terminal came into being. No, the Apes owe their continued existence in this realm to the Dragons.”

“That’s…” he stammers as memories fill his mind, “Wait, what about the red dragon? The one that burned down all those cities and townships not less than...twenty years ago?”

“Hm…” Engles rumbles, causing a flock of birds to scatter from the various pipes on its back.

“The General of our army lead a campaign to try and combat it, but it ended in failure,” 9S squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath, “If what you said is true, why would a dragon side with you and suddenly start attacking human homes?”

Engles’ eyes flicker for a moment before refocusing on 9S, “My memories are fractured, but I do recall the Terminals negotiating a contract with an ambitious reptile.”

Just one answer launches a thousand more questions in 9S’ mind and he’s about to begin interrogating the demon further, but a voice echoes through the forest that fills him with panic.

“Nines?! 9S where the hell are you?!”

There’s no mistaking 801S’ voice, laced with annoyance.

“Shit. How far did we wander?” 9S hisses to himself.

“I don’t know, I was following you to make sure you didn’t fall into a pit or something.” 2B grumbles.

“We can’t let them find Eng-...the demon. They’d kill him outright and we’d lose enemy intelligence.”

“I have thought myself too proud to ask things of a reptile and a mongrel ape but...please. Keep this place a secret. I do not have much power left. I wish to die peacefully, and forever be a home for these creatures of the forest.”

9S and 2B hesitate, hearing the last wish of something they both consider a monster makes their chests tighten.

“...Of course,” 2B says with a solemn nod.

Engles lets out a long sigh and rests its head on the ground, “Thank you, Dragon. Perhaps, if I am still alive, you could visit me? It’s...nice to talk to someone again.”

“Yeah, we’ll visit,” says 9S as he’s pulled by the arm by 2B.

“Farewell then...friends.”

“There you two are!” 801S shouts as 2B and 9S emerge from the dense underbrush, “Where the hell did you wander off to?!”

“Easy, easy!” 9S responds, holding his hands up defensively, “We went to investigate a disturbance I heard deeper in the woods.”

“Why didn’t you call for backup then?” asks 32S.

“I mean...I had 2B with me.”

“Yeah, we know,” 801S accuses.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“You know damn well what I mean!” he jabs his finger at 9S’ chest, “This is war! This isn’t a game you can just ditch to go elope in the woods with some harlot!”

2B bristles quietly but refuses to speak. Keeping her gaze forward she begins to walk away from the group, only to be followed by 9S and the rest of the scouts.

“She’s not a harlot!!-...” 9S shouts then stops himself before he lets his anger get the best of him, “I told you, there was a disturbance deeper in the woods and we went to investigate! If there was a problem I would have doubled back for help!”

“Whatever,” 801S grumbles, “Just go get on point.”

801S storms back to the other scouts, leaving 9S fuming alone. The nauseating mixture of self loathing, dread, and anger makes him tear up just a touch. He wipes his eyes with his scarf before miserably plodding back to 2B, ignoring the red flickers in the corner of his vision.

(Biiig shout out to @nierly-amazing for the sketch of lovely Engles!!)

[loretranscripts]

Lore Episode 28: Making a Mark (Transcript) - 22nd February 2016

tw: graphic violence

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

I talk a lot about New England folklore. One of the biggest reasons for that is because the north-east part of the United States serves as a sort of cultural bridge between the old world and the new. It was there, more than anywhere else, where the old tales and superstitions first set root on American soil. The witch hysteria of the late 1600s was an aftershock of a larger tremor that shook Europe for decades. The American version of the vampire has roots in eastern European folktales and legends. Even holidays like Christmas and Hallowe’en were really just old-world injections into the cultural soft tissue of America, and the needle pierced us in New England first… most of the time. There are other parts of the country that played host to pioneers and adventurers as well, people who risked their lives and loved ones to travel across the cold Atlantic and build a new home here on these shores, and the age of colonization brought more than just settlers and supplies. It brought lore. Settlers up and down the east coast of what would one day become America came ashore with heads full of superstitions and a propensity to attach meaning to things we might overlook today. Put another way, they brought food for their journey, and the seeds to grow more here. They came with minds that were perfectly wired to build new folklore on the backs of old tales: new fears, new legends, new hauntings, and we can still find those creations in many places along the eastern seaboard - places like North Carolina. Before the vacation homes and sun-baked tourists crowded along the sandy shores of the Outer Banks, pioneers were attempting to carve out an existence there. Those that survived left behind more than buildings and descendants, though. Today, the Outer Bank is home to tales that still send shivers down the spines of locals and tourists alike, because folklore, whether its new or old, has a way of leaving its mark. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore. Brigands Bay sits on the northern coast of the southern part of Hatteras Island, between the towns of Frisco and Buxton. Hatteras is part of the Outer Banks, which, on the map, look like nothing more than a thin string of earth and sand a few miles off the coast of North Carolina. Imagine the island as a backwards capital L, hugging the coastline near the Pamlico River. But don’t let that thin strip of sand and stay-parks fool you – Hatteras, like many of the other islands out there, is still big enough for stories to take root, and that’s because it has a long history, longer than most parts of the country, in fact. Near the northern tip of the island, just to the west, is Roanoke Island, the site of England’s first settlement in the new world. Although the colony there disappeared sometime between 1586 and 1587, Europeans didn’t stay away long, and it was their constant activity in the region that gave rise to so much of the local stories, still told today. There’s a legend in Hatteras of the horrible deeds of one particular captain. According to the story, in 1710 an English ship crossed the Atlantic carrying refugees from Germany. They were known as “palatines”, and they had initially fled the middle Rhine area to settle in England, but there were so many that the English decided to help them move to the new world. When these refugees boarded the ship, they hid their valuables, afraid that they might be stolen by the ship’s crew. After a successful journey, the ship entered the waters inside the Outer Banks, heading toward New Bern on the coast. Their new home was in sight, and after such a long journey it must have been a relief to see it. Sensing they would soon disembark, the palatines removed their valuables from hiding and gathered them together for the final leg of their journey. Now, maybe it was the sight of all that treasure – the jewellery and coins and precious heirlooms – that triggered what happened next, or perhaps the crew had planned it all along. But here was their chance, and they decided to act. Claiming that the weather wasn’t good enough for a landing, they told the passengers to return to their cabins and wait until morning. During the night, the crew moved systematically throughout the ship, killing the sleeping refugees and stealing their treasures. After killing the passengers, the captain and crew set fire to the ship and headed to shore in lifeboats, but the ship didn’t sink. Instead, the legend claims that the flames grew higher and higher while the ship began to move forward into calm waters. Fearing for their lives, the crew abandoned the lifeboat and were never seen again. To this day, locals whisper of a ghost ship that can be seen under the first full moon of September. This ship, orange with flames, passes near the Ocracoke inlet three times, and then vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Another prominent local story involves the capture of the legendary pirate, Edward Teach, also known as Blackbeard. Teach patrolled the Atlantic and Caribbean in his ship, Queen Anne’s Revenge, for a little over two years, and in the process became one of the most feared pirates of his day. As history records, Blackbeard was finally cornered by Lieutenant Robert Maynard and his men in November of 1718, just inside the Outer Banks near the southern tip of Hatteras. In a battle that was horribly bloody for both sides, the great Blackbeard suffered no fewer than 20 sword wounds and five gunshots before he was finally brought down. The English beheaded his corpse and tossed the body into the sea. His head, though, was kept. Maynard hung it from the bowsprit of his ship, and it was turned in later to collect his reward. Locals there near Ocracoke tell of a spot known as Teach’s Hole, where the legendary pirate once anchored his ship. If the stories are to be believed, Blackbeard’s ghost haunts the location – there are those who have claimed to see strange lights, both above and below the water there on the coast. They say it’s Blackbeard, swimming through the waters he used to patrol. Others say you can hear voices there. When storms blow in and waves crash against the shore, locals claim you can hear something besides the rain and thunder. It’s the sound of a man crying out in pain, the same words, over and over: “Where is my head?”

Hatteras is still popular with visitors today, though I would assume none of them are pirates. People still build homes there, they have streets and restaurants and parks and trees, tourists flock there every summer to take in the scenery, but right there on Snug Harbour Drive, near Brigands Bay, is a tree that’s called the island home for centuries. In fact, it was most likely ancient when the colonists first arrived hundreds of years before, and although most of the people driving by it are completely unaware, this tree has a story to tell. According to local legend, it starts with the arrival of a women near Frisco back in the early 1700s. They say her name was Cora, and she brought along a baby. They were always seen together, the child held tight to her chest or strapped into a sling. For an area frequented by sailors or widows of those who were lost at sea, this wasn’t an unusual sight. The Brigands Bay area was even more wooded then than it is now, and it’s said that she took up shelter in the forest there rather than in the small community that was forming on the coast. But it wasn’t living on the literal outskirts of society that earnt her a reputation as an outsider, it was her knack for the… unusual. Some have said that cows she touched would dry up and turn sick; when the fishing got rough and the nets were empty, Cora still managed to bring in enough to feed herself and the child; and when a local boy decided to poke fun at the baby, legend says that he got so sick he nearly died. Naturally, people talked. People always talk when things don’t fit the norm, and that talk spread. In an era when it didn’t take much more than an unpleasant disposition or off-colour comment to earn a woman a reputation as a witch, it seemed Cora was making it a little too easy for the locals to be suspicious.

The legend also tells of how during Cora’s stay, a ship called the Susan G ran aground off the northern coast of the island. The captain and his crew left the ship and came to town, and from there they made plans to repair it and continue their commercial journey. It sounds simple, right? Just repair the damage and move on – but doing so meant unloading all of the cargo, piece by piece, and bringing it to shore. The captain’s name, according to the legend, was Eli Blood. Now, that better have been his real name, because… come on, how perfect is that, right? Captain Blood. This captain enlisted the help of locals to move the cargo off his grounded ship and in the process, he got to know quite a few of them, which was a good thing judging by the repairs, he and his crew from Salem, Massachusetts, were bound to be there for a very long time - and it was during this long stay that he and his crew heard the stories of Cora and her baby. The heart of the rumours pointed to one, single, sensational conclusion: Cora was a witch, and the child she brought with her was her familiar, her supernatural pet. And, as it turned out, Captain Blood was probably the last person on earth that this mysterious Cora wanted to draw the suspicion of. The captain, it seems, was not just a sailor from Salem, Massachusetts. He claimed to know Cotton Mather, the puritan minister who was a passionate voice in support of the Salem Witch Trials. He had read Mather’s books, he was a student of Mather’s methods, and apparently shared the man’s intense hatred for the dark arts. So much so, in fact, that he considered himself a “white witch”, someone trained in combatting the forces of darkness with their own brand of magic. He claimed to have his own familiars, which he fed with drops of blood, and those familiars acted like spies for him, informing him of black magic nearby. Captain Eli Blood considered himself a witch hunter. Now, I realise this sounds incredibly hypocritical, which it is of course, but back then it was also heroic – it gave the people of the island a feeling of safety. At last, they might have said, we have someone here who can deal with Cora, the witch, if she gets out of hand. And that’s when the body of a man washed up on the beach.

The body wasn’t one of Captain Blood’s men, but it drew his concern nonetheless. It was the body of a young man from town, and although no makes could be found that pointed to the cause of his death, there were a number of other clues. Local legend tells of how the man’s face was twisted into a horrible expression of fear. His hands, they say, were clasped together, as if he had been kneeling before someone powerful, begging for his life. The man even had the numbers “666” carved into his forehead. The most damning evidence of all, however, were the footprints in the sand near his body. They were smaller than a man’s, and they moved away from the body in a clear, definable direction: the woods. Someone needed to investigate the man’s death, they said, and who better to do it than the witch hunter himself, Captain Eli Blood – he had little else to do while he waited on the ship’s owner to send help and supplies. This sounded like the perfect job for his idle mind. Captain Blood, for his part, agreed. He gathered his men, mostly slaves from Barbados who all had a healthy cultural fear of black magic, and together they went in search of Cora’s shack in the woods. When they found her, she was inside making breakfast for herself and her child; the men seized them both and brought them back to town. They accused Cora of witchcraft and murder, of course – how could they not, in a society governed by deep suspicion and intense fear of people who failed to fit in? Now, before you write them off as barbaric, remember that this is a flaw we have yet to overcome – we still fear those who are different from us. Maybe it’s genetic, or maybe it’s culturally ingrained. That fear is like a snake hiding in the bushes, always ready to strike, and it struck hard for Cora.

Captain Blood had her bound, left hand to right ankle, right hand to left ankle, and then carried her to the shore. There, he ordered her to be thrown into the water – it was a test, he said. If she floated, she was a witch, and seeing as how the tide was low and the waves were calm, of course she didn’t sink, how could she? Satisfied with the results, the captain moved on to his second test. Pulling his knife free, the man tried to cut a handful of Cora’s hair, but the blade failed to do its job. More proof, he declared, that she was, in fact, a witch… or at least proof that he needed to sharpen his knife, but hey, I’m no witch hunter. The final test was the most creepy and ambiguous of them all. Taking a bowl of seawater, the captain asked each of his crew to cut their fingertip and drip blood into the bowl. When they had all done so, he stirred this mixture with his knife until it foamed and swirled, and then he chanted words that no one else understood while staring hard into the bowl, and then raised his face in triumph. “She’s a witch,” he exclaimed, and then, as if needing a second opinion, he passed the bowl around to the others. Each of them, according to the story, saw two things in the bowl: the devil and the face of Cora. That was all the proof they needed – Cora was a witch, pure and simple, and now her execution would be completed.

The captain had his men gather firewood and branches and pile them at the base of a large oak tree near the bay, and then Cora and her child were tied to the tree, ready to be burnt alive. Now, what happened next will sound unusual. That’s the fingerprint of an old story – they sometimes take on a patina of oddities and otherworldliness. Sometimes, the patina adds texture, even value, to an antique – I’ll let you be the judge. According to the locals who tell the tale to this day, Captain Blood approached the tree with a lit torch in his hand, ready to set fire to the wood and burn the witch and her familiar alive, but another captain, a local man named John Smith, held him back, asking instead for Cora’s trial to go through the proper, legal channels. Smith, you see, being a sane man, wanted to do things right, but as the men argued, two things happened. First, the child in Cora’s arms twisted and writhed as it transformed into a large, black cat with shimmering green eyes. Second, a dark, ominous cloud began to gather overhead in an otherwise cloudless sky. Both men cried out in horror, and then Captain Blood lunged forward with the torch to ignite the kindling. It was at that very moment that the cloud overhead rumbled, and a lightning bolt flashed down, striking the tree and blinding everyone around it. When the smoke cleared, the tree was empty. The ropes were still there, as was the pile of branches and firewood, but the woman and the cat were gone without a trace. Well, that’s not true, there was one clue, and it’s difficult to believe. There, etched by lightning into the bark of the old oak tree were four, clear letters, which spelled out one single word: C, O, R, A. Cora.

The Outer Banks is just like any other place in the world on many levels. It has a history, and over the centuries that comprise that history, stories have been told. In a lot of ways, story is one of our greatest legacies. Wherever we’ve been, we’ve left story in our wake like footprints in the mud. Some stories are true and act like time capsules. Some are exaggerations of the truth and are meant to entertain later generations more than anything else. Some, though, serve to fill in the blanks, to answer those lingering questions or to explain the things we can’t wrap our minds around. Are there really fiery ghost ships and headless pirates haunting the Outer Banks? Was the word on the Cora tree, a word that you can still go see for yourself if you want, really carved into the bark by lightning? The chances are pretty good that it’s all just a collection of old, entertaining folktales, but some stories do both. Beneath their decorative paint and fantastical flourishes, they conceal a grain of truth deep in their core. The most famous local legend in the Outer Banks, by a mile, is the story of the lost colony of Roanoke. The island is located of the west coast of Hatteras island and, when the English settled there in 1585, they knew they were on the edge of the world. Building a settlement there took a lot of guts, but it came with a lot of risk and danger. When John White and a hundred new settlers landed in July of 1586, the first settlement was gone, so they stayed to investigate. They set up their own fort there, and also worked to establish relations with the local native American tribes: the Croatoan on what is now Hatteras and the Coree on the mainland. White left for England one year later to get supplies, but didn’t return for three years. When he did come back, no sign of the English could be found. He’d left them with a plan, though: if they were forced to leave, they’d been told to carve a cross into a nearby tree so White would know they’d been attacked, and he did find a carving, but it wasn’t a cross. It was a single word: Croatoan. This was good news because it meant they’d departed peacefully. White wanted to search Hatteras immediately, but when a terrible storm blew in, his men refused to stay. However painful it might have been – after all, White’s own granddaughter was among the missing – they left the very next day. It’s interesting to note that the Croatoan lived in southern Hatteras, in the area between modern day Buxton and Frisco, right by the Cora tree, and if it wasn’t really lightning that carved those letters, perhaps it was an actual human being. Sure, it could be nothing more than a centuries old prank or just a bit of lover’s graffiti, anything’s possible. Or maybe, like a myth with a grain of truth at its heart, this tree is the last hint in a chain of clues that point to the final destination of the settlers from Roanoke. You see, the Coree tribe on the mainland went by a few other names. Some called them the Cores, or the Coranine, or interestingly enough, the Cora.

[Closing statements]

[rockhoochie]

No Apologies

(*Edit, previously titled “He Brings Me Sugar”)

Pairing: Dean/OFC

Warnings: Adult Content, Smut, Slow Burn, Somewhat Dubious Consent, Angst, Prescription Drug Abuse, Drinking, Knife play (very brief), Minor OC (sibling) Death, Language, Oral Sex (M/F receiving).

Summary: After losing her sister Anna to a demon, the Winchesters have taken Lexi under their wing. She studies and trains with them, tense friction quickly growing between her and Dean. When Sam and Castiel leave to take care of the demon that killed Anna without her, the levee of tension amidst Lexi and Dean breaks, flowing into something neither of them expected.

A/N: This is an edit of a fic I’ve posted previously. I meant to write a brief smutty one-shot and ended up developing the OFC a bit. Since the word count is 10K+, I decided to chapter it out. There may still be some errors, so please forgive me as I haven’t had this beta’d yet. Thank you for reading and as always, if you’d like to be tagged just send an ask!

**My work is not to be copied, altered, posted on other sites or otherwise used without my express written permission**

 Chapter 3

I had been living with Sam and Dean for about six months no, ever since my life had been turned completely and insanely upside down. Ever since my house had been burned down by a demon. Ever since that same demon had possessed my sister Anna and made her snap her own neck…

It had just been Anna and me. Our parents were gone, killed in a car accident almost two years ago. Anna had resolved to stay home with me after our parents’ funeral. They had left the house to us in their will – rather than try to deal with selling it, we moved in. Although sometimes painful, living in our childhood home again, surrounded by our parents’ possessions and essence was comforting in its own bittersweet way.

Sam had been only halfway through the exorcism when Anna was killed. Dean had been holding me from behind as I simply cried and screamed for my sister. I watched, helpless and confused and terrified as the demon glared me with eyes black as obsidian. It cackled with Anna’s voice, and unceremoniously twisted her head almost the whole way around. The demon left her then, in a thick black vine of smoke that reeked of sulfur, and making the most wretched squealing sound I had ever heard. Dean’s grip loosened on me as her body hit the floor. I had run over to Anna and held her, stroking her hair as my tears fell into her open, dead eyes, not caring that the flames licking the walls were gaining more and more strength. Sam had yelled repeatedly at Dean to get me out; Dean had to coax and scream and pry me away from my little sister. He had dragged me out of the burning house – literally kicking and screaming – as I watched Sam pour a copious amount of rock salt over Anna’s corpse.

Once Dean had gotten us a safe distance away and Sam had run out of the burning house, everything I had left in me vanished as I collapsed on the street. The brothers stayed with me the entire time, through the police and fireman interrogations, through the paramedic examination. The EMT’s kept telling me how lucky I was. I kept silently telling them to go fuck themselves.

Once the fire was out and Anna’s body had been wheeled away, all I could do was tremble, and repeatedly ask Sam and Dean what hell happened, what’s going on, what was that thing. They tried their best to calm me and explain. My head swam along with my tears as they told me that monsters were real, that they were hunters – the kind of hunters that kill the things that everyone else dismissed as fairy tales. They told me were demons real, angels were too, but God had left the building…and vampires and werewolves and even dragons absolutely existed outside of nightmares. At first, I thought they were insane, or that everything that had happened had caused me to go off the deep end.

They took me to their car, a black ’67 Impala, and showed me the contents of the trunk. Guns, knives, bullets, a goddamn machete. Dean reached for and opened a leather-bound journal, and flipping the pages slowly as I peered at them. They were full of hand drawn pictures of awful creatures, of handwritten information about each one – what is was, where it came from, and how to kill it.

Despite the obvious proof, I maintained the position that either I was losing my mind or they were certifiable lunatics.

Deep down I knew it was all true - nothing else could explain it. The weight of accepting that truth crushed anything that remained of my heart that night.

That demon had destroyed the only home and family had left. The only thing I was able to walk away with were the clothes on my back and the necklace I wore – a heart-shaped silver pendant with a single diamond embedded near the top, a single silver angel wing decorating the right side, and the words “Big Sister” engraved in simple print. Anna had one that matched – the only difference was the angel wing on the left side, and the engraved phrase “Little Sister”. We had found them in our mother’s closet, already wrapped in Christmas paper, tucked away amongst other gifts and boxes. Mom had always called us her angels on earth.

One of the EMTs had slipped Anna’s necklace into my hand. I slid the pendant off the chain, and joined it with my own. I silently promised my sister retribution. Whatever it took, wherever I had to go, I was going to destroy the thing that murdered her or die trying.

When Sam asked me if I had someone to call or someone I could stay with, I had shaken my head ‘no’. I had some friends out of state I could’ve called, but I couldn’t even bring myself to consider leaving. I needed answers about what had happened to Anna, and I was hellbent on revenge. I had told them I’d get a hotel for now, but Sam said he didn’t feel comfortable just leaving me alone. That demon was still out there somewhere, and chances were it was going to come after me.

That night they brought me to the bunker.

I sat at the library table in silence, watching Dean unpack his gear while Sam got a room ready for me.

“Hey,” Dean had said, “When’s the last time you ate anything?”

“Not hungry,” I mumbled.

“Not what I asked you.”

“I don’t know, sometime yesterday…”

Dean walked into the kitchen, leaving me to stare at the strange arsenal he had laid out in front of me - a sawed-off shotgun, several knives, bloody clothes and flasks – either full of holy water or whiskey.

He returned with a small plate and a fork, setting a piece of cherry pie in front of me.

“I’d rather have a drink,” I mumbled.

“Pie first.”

I cut a small piece, forcing myself to take one small bite after another until I finished it, trying to at least find some comfort in its sweetness. I licked the last of the thick filling off of my fork, and ran my finger along the sides of my lips to clean off any trace that may have remained.

When I looked up, I found Dean staring at me, his lips parted, his green eyes fixed on me.

“What is it?” I asked. “Is there some on my face?”

He blinked with a slight shake of his head and leaned back in his chair.

“No,” he said. “I just…I’m sorry for everything you went through tonight. I know how it is to lose family, and…”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Here,” he said, handing me a silver flask. “You can have that drink now”.

***

I had stayed in my room for three days after I got there, only leaving to use the bathroom. For the most part, Sam and Dean gave me my space. Sam would knock twice a day, come in and bring me food. Sometimes we would make small talk. Sometimes we would just sit there in silence, until he would put a movie on for me. He’d hold me while I cried, listen calmly when I screamed.

Dean had been present, but had kept himself fairly distant. On the morning of my third day at the bunker, I woke to find a pint of Jack Daniels and slice of cherry pie on my night stand. I knew that was from him. As great as Sam was about being attentive to my emotions, Dean knew what I didn’t know I really needed – sugar and booze. I washed down the pie with the whiskey, and spent the rest of the day getting blissfully drunk while watching old western movies.

On the fourth day, I finally came out of my room with a staggering hangover. That was the day I met Castiel, and experienced the glorious magic that was angelic healing. Cas had simply touched two fingers to my forehead, erasing the lingering physical pain I had from the night Anna died, healing the cuts and bruises covering my body. Even my hangover was gone. It was also the day I asked Sam and Dean to teach me everything they knew.

Sam read through lore and research with me, quizzing me on what the most common creatures were and how to kill them. He showed me the best places to look for the rare, odd things, and told me to who to call if I got stuck on something. I studied symbols, warding, summoning spells and credit card fraud. Sam was patient and warmhearted while he taught me, leading me to correct my own wrong answers and guiding me step-by-step as I practiced sketching Devil’s Traps. Sam quickly became like a big brother to me – that was the reason I picked him to take me to get the anti-possession tattoo on the back of my neck.

Dean led me in the more hands-on aspects of hunting. He taught me how to handle the guns, how to clean them, how to put them back together. He showed me the different bullets, the rock salt shells and the witch killers. He gave me a hunting knife, a lock-pick kit, and finally my own Glock.

We also spent time sparring, practicing hand to hand fighting. He never held back with me, saying that if I was going to have his or his little brother’s six, I’d better damn well know how to fight.

Dean was tough on me, critical, demanding perfection from everything he was trying to teach me. It only took about two weeks before started grating on each other. The more comfortable I got around him, the more he learned that not only could I take it, but I could dish it right back to him. That seemed to piss him off, and I found myself secretly enjoying it.

One particular day in the shooting range we really had it out. I was holding my Glock, trying to aim at the target and he would just not shut up. My stance was wrong, I wasn’t holding the gun the right way, what did I think this was, the goddamn movies? I finally cracked that day, screaming at him to get the fuck out of my face and back the hell off. I had stormed off, hiding myself in an archive room for the next several hours. When I finally returned to my room, there was a pint of Jack Daniels and a slice of pie sitting on my nightstand. By that time, I had learned how high pie was on Dean’s list of priorities. So, with a smile, I took the gesture as an apology and forgave him.

After a couple of months, I went out on some simple hunts with them – a spirit here, a poltergeist there. Sam was proud of me. Dean was impressed. I wanted to do more. Despite my insistence and protestations, they left me behind on the more difficult hunts - vampire nests, werewolf packs, things that hunted in twos, or anything demon-related.

Whenever they left me behind, I resigned myself to trying to track down the demon that killed Anna. I looked for patterns, strange sightings, any hint that the thing was still around. Sam and Dean tortured any demon they came across to get information before destroying or exoring them. Not one of them knew anything, or if they did, they weren’t talking. Dean had even summoned Crowley to interrogate him. After Crowley spent an eternity talking in circles and flirting with me, he insisted he knew nothing about my sister, or which one of his minions may have killed her. He did however, offer to make finding it out for me his top priority in exchange for my soul. Dean had cursed at him for that, charging at him with Ruby’s knife. Crowley vanished with a snap of his fingers before Dean could even get close to him.

I kept hunting, kept researching, kept hoping. I made it extremely clear to Sam and Dean that I was going to be the one to destroy that demon once it dared to show up again. They never protested, but never seemed too thrilled with the idea either.

It was comforting knowing I had people who had my back – hell, it was comforting to know that an actual angel had my back. Any time they left and hunted without me it filled me with dread. The Winchesters were the best at what they did, but if anything ever happened to them I’d be lost. I couldn’t imagine life without Sam, the brother I never had. I couldn’t even imagine life without Dean…the Dean I never had.

[megsblackfirewrites]

The Little Prince of Halloween: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“I can’t believe you still wear that old thing,” Genji grinned as he combed his green hair into place.

“It’s special to me,” Jack replied as he rubbed the black makeup around his eye. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Hey,” Genji pouted at him. “Just because I’m younger doesn’t mean I don’t understand.”

“I believe he is implying that you don’t hold onto anything long enough to get attached,” Hanzo teased around the length of ribbon in between his teeth.

“That’s even worse!” Genji wailed.

Jack laughed as he pulled his gloves and jacket on. “There, I look enough like a ghoul?” he asked.

“I can’t believe you went through with dyeing your hair white,” Hanzo shuddered. “Also can’t believe Mom didn’t pitch a fit when she found out.”

Jack laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. He thought it made him look intimidating with the pasty white makeup he was wearing. He smoothed out the lapels of his jacket and smirked at his brothers. He waved to them before heading downstairs to where his “date” was waiting.

Jesse was talking with Sayaka, smiling politely and making sure to keep her left hand in sight at all times. Jack kissed his Mama’s cheek and waved as he dragged Jesse out of the house. He waited until they were a safe distance from the house before he reached up to tug on Jesse’s ears.

“I can’t believe it’s been almost twenty years,” he laughed. “What, did Gabe not want to see me again?”

“Gabe asked about you every year,” Jesse laughed as he shoved Jack’s hand away from his delicate ears. “It broke his heart every time I told him that you couldn’t be brought to the castle.”

“But this year I can,” Jack grinned. “Think he’ll like my costume? I was going for ghoulish vampire.”

“It looks good,” Jesse grinned. “Make the jacket yerself?”

“No, my dad helped,” Jack smiled. “Never could get the hang of a needle.”

“I’m sure Gabe’ll love to teach you,” Jesse chuckled before he stepped into an alley. “Portal’s down here.”

Jack followed, trying his best not to bolt through the swirling green portal. Jesse walked through first and Jack stepped through when his tail had vanished. Harpies started twittering immediately, staring at him in disbelief before a familiar, older harpy hurried forward.

“Jack!”

“Hi, Ana,” Jack smiled as he hugged the harpy close. “You look lovely.”

“Flatterer,” Ana twittered happily. “You grew up to be such a strapping young man! Oh, everyone is going to be so surprised!”

“I don’t think as surprised as you think,” Jack laughed. “It’s been almost twenty years. I wasn’t going to stay a kid forever.”

“True,” Ana chuckled. “Come; they will want to see you before Gabriel shows up and demands all of your attention.”

Jack swallowed as he followed her out into the ballroom. The colours weren’t as brilliant as he remembered, but there was something just as beautiful about them. He inhaled slowly, taking in the people dancing on the dancefloor, standing by the buffet tables, and a few already getting a head start on the games. He didn’t see Gabriel anywhere, but he suspected his friend was going to make a grand entrance.

Almost on cue, people started bowing and pulling away as a huge set of double doors. Jack’s heart jumped into his throat as a man around his height strode forward. The pumpkin head was as finely cut as he remembered, but instead of the simple costume that he had worn in his youth, Gabriel was wearing a complex costume with a jagged cloak with a collar that reached up past his head. Jack did his best not to stand up too straight as he bowed at the waist.

“Jack?” Gabriel asked in surprise.

“My King,” Jack replied as he straightened up. “You look good.”

Jack yelped as he was dragged into a tight hug. Gabriel laughed as he easily hoisted him off of his feet and spun around. Jack laughed once he realized what was happening and wasn’t about to get crushed by the overly excited King of Halloween. He wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s shoulders as he was set down, grinning at Gabriel.

“Well, would you look at that; the short-ass grew,” he teased.

Claws pushed up into his hair and Jack shivered as Gabriel ran his fingers through the strands. “You did too,” Gabriel murmured. “Is your hair naturally this colour?”

“No, I died it for the occasion,” Jack laughed. “It’s normally golden blond.”

The claws travelled slowly down his face before they gently tugged on the pendant around Jack’s neck. He heard Gabriel gasp softly before the pumpkin head was pressed against his.

“You kept it?” he whispered.

“It’s my most treasured possession, along with a well-loved Cerberus plushie,” Jack smiled.

“I lied,” Gabriel suddenly blurted out. “It wasn’t a token of my esteem, it was an engagement token!”

“What?” Jack blinked in confusion.

Gabriel tipped his head back and groaned. “My stupid brain thought that giving you it was a good idea; I was so smitten with you I wanted to make sure I would get to see you again. I’m so sorry that I lied to you and….”

Jack bent double and slapped his knee, cackling loudly. “Oh my god, you gave me an engagement ring at the age of nine and I didn’t even know it! Can we get any more pathetic?!”

Gabriel joined him a few moments later, throwing his head back and laughing loudly. The crowd around them twittered happily, nodding their heads in approval as the King and his unintentional intended laughed. When they calmed down, Gabriel bowed at the waist and offered Jack his hand. Jack mirrored the bow and took Gabriel’s hand.

“You remember how to waltz?” Gabriel teased as he pulled Jack onto the dancefloor.

“I’ve taken some lessons,” Jack chuckled as they started twirling across the dancefloor. “I’m not as bad as I used to be.”

“You were quite uncoordinated,” Gabriel agreed as they danced. “Amazing what a few decades can do, hmm?”

“Indeed,” Jack chuckled. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Jack,” Gabriel sighed.

“So,” Jack smirked deviously as they continued dancing. “If we’re getting married, you should meet my parents.”

Gabriel sputtered in surprise. “What?!”

“Well, this is an engagement ring, isn’t it?” Jack laughed as he played with the pendant. “I’m old enough to accept such an offering. Even if it was made twenty years ago.”

Gabriel stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Jack’s face. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he demanded. “If we marry, you’ll be bound to me for all eternity. You’ll wax and wane as I do. Old and young. Dead and alive. You’ll lose everyone you love….”

“Gabriel,” Jack said gently as he reached up to cup the pumpkin head’s cheek. “Did I say we’re getting married tomorrow? We have time to figure this out. Besides, I’m positive Jesse was just being a shithead and it’s not actually that hard to move between Earth and this place.”

“Maybe,” Gabriel shook his head. “But…you’re serious?”

“Yes; are you?” Jack asked.

“Yes,” Gabriel murmured before he pulled Jack after him off the dancefloor. “But you need to see me first. I don’t want you looking forward to see a baby-faced little boy.”

“Well, I knew you grew up, dumbass,” Jack teased.

“Jack,” Gabriel shook his head as they hurried out into the courtyard under the full moon. “Promise me that you won’t run?”

“What, you grow a spider face on me?” Jack teased.

Gabriel pulled the pumpkin head off and Jack stared. Gone were the soft baby features remembered. Instead, his features were sharp and heavily scarred. His soft brown eyes had turned red and the white sclera had turned black. A soft brown goatee framed his lips and dominated his chin. His skin was mottled and flaking, drifting off in a black smoke.

“I am…not quite a corpse,” Gabriel sighed.

“I still think you’re beautiful,” Jack smiled as he reached up to cup his cheek. “A real King of Halloween. Terrifying features and all.”

Gabriel blinked at him before he pulled him close. “I am the King and you are my Prince,” he murmured as they started dancing slowly. “Jack…will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Jack smiled and danced with him. “Let’s just hope you survive my parents. My Mama will tear you apart.”

“Yikes,” he laughed. “I’m going to get grilled?”

“Yup,” Jack smirked. “Everyone is going to want to know all about you.”

“I want to know about them too,” Gabriel murmured before he leaned in and kissed him. “My Prince. Te amo.”

“That’s Spanish, right?” Jack asked.

“Sí,” he chuckled.

“So,” Jack smiled as he reached up to run his hand down Gabriel’s face. “You going to turn into one of those sugar skulls?”

“That would be interesting,” Gabriel chuckled. “I’ll enjoy getting to celebrate Dia de los Muertos with you.”

“That’s in a few days, right?” Jack asked.

“Yes,” Gabriel twirled them around and dipped Jack backwards over his arm. “You’ll love my mother, just as she’ll love you.”

“Queen of the Dead?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Gabriel chuckled before they stopped beneath the full moon and kissed again. “You look beautiful in this light, Jack.”

“So do you,” Jack sighed happily. “Like a real king.”

Gabriel kissed him and held him close. Jack tucked himself into his strong arms and let out a soft sigh of contentment. This was perfect. It was worth waiting twenty years for. To feel this close to someone in such a short amount of time was amazing.

And Hanzo said that Disney was unrealistic. Ha!