#and yes before anyone kills me for it my achilles is black

[sealrock]

10. stable

cw: depiction of trans pregnancy word count: 983 words

"Do you think we can give this baby a stable life?"

Andromache's question filtered back into Achille's mind, though it came back nearly four moons too late now that he was holding said baby in his arms.

While it was easy not to think about before her arrival, Achille couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety settle in his heart as he watched Paris, the oddly masculine name her parents bestowed her, slumbered against his shirt. He found himself gently stroking her slick black hair, and he was suddenly reminded of the day his younger brother was born. Protected by soft swaddling clothes, a gift from Hector's mother, Paris looked like his brother, and most newborn babies—wrinkly, pale, and a bit ugly.

A soft orange glow filled the room from the open window, the fresh air trickling inside as the summer sun took its leave behind the treeline. Achille's ears picked up the call of cicadas, crickets, and frogs as they announced dusk's arrival in the forest beyond. A few hours had passed since Paris came into the world, screeching to anyone who would listen, but Achille felt like time hadn't moved since. He forgot how long he sat in this chair, he couldn't feel anything except the delicate weight of an infant—his loved ones' infant—in his arms. She had a startling amount of strength as her hand gripped his thumb, her fingers too stubby to reach the other side.

On the bed lay Hector, drained and a little wan, sound asleep and bundled in blankets, his long hair unbound. Despite the mugginess of the day, Hector was shivering like he had been in a snowstorm. Andromache, high off of pure adrenaline for the last seventy-two hours, crashed unsurprisingly after the delivery, her upper body halfway on the bed while she sat seated on Hector's left side, their hands intertwined. Achille wasn't allowed inside the birthing room, not that he wanted to be in there, the screams of pain and cries of agony were enough to keep him outside the house entirely. He did his best to offer Andromache some support, the girl unable to do much besides pace around and pull at her hair.

He wasn't even the father, yet Achille couldn't sleep a wink. When it was all said and done, Andromache practically twisted his arm to accept holding her daughter, a word she said with shaky pride. Yes, this was her daughter, and Achille didn't want to hurt her. His hands only knew how to kill, not to love. He wasn't suited to offer a child a life of stability, and if he was being honest, neither were Andromache or Hector. They were all young, much too young, and dealing with their own personal emotional baggage, to take on such a responsibility.

"Do you want an honest answer or a hopeful lie?"

Achille looked on from his corner of the candle-lit living room, situated away from Hector on the couch, watching as Andromache gingerly rested her head on their partner's lap, her ear pressed against his growing belly. With her hair petted by Hector, Andromache's back was against the couch cushions, her legs dangling off the side and crossed at the ankles. Her glittering eyes, full of wonderment in the likes Achille had never seen up until then, narrowed at his response as she regarded him upside-down. Hector could only chuckle, his eyes hooded by dark bangs.

"I think everything will be fine."

"How can you be so sure?"

Hector lifted his gaze to look at Achille, his expression calm and voice gentle:

"Because I have two bodyguards who wouldn't dare let anything go wrong."

Achille could feel the blush creep up his neck as he gave a crooked smile, "Is that all I am to you, hired muscle?"

"You know my meaning," Hector glanced down to Andromache before looking away, "You're more than that to me, both of you. We'll be alright because your love will extend to this child. They'll know nothing but love, protection, and guidance from all of us."

Achille shrugged, "I don't think I'm cut out for that."

"Don't be so modest," it was Andromache's turn to speak up, "You're just as much a parent to this child as we are."

Achille would never have children, the torturous days of his younger years rendering that impossible, but Andromache's words stuck to him since then.

Paris wriggled in his arms, little odd squeaks coming from her mouth as Achille brought himself back to the present. Achille froze, not knowing what to do as the noises grew louder. He also remembers this from his younger brother, how annoyed he felt at the sound of a crying infant.

"Put him back," was all the young boy said to the adults in the room.

His father could only laugh at the bluntness of his son's words. Achille could remember his father ruffling his hair in affection before the wailing monstrosity of a baby could be taken from his tiny arms.

"Achille?"

Achille jerked up from his seat, eyes landing on Hector and Andromache, both now wide awake despite only getting a few hours of sleep. Paris continued to cry as he awkwardly passed her along into her father's waiting arms. Hector looked like shite, but he beamed at the sight of his newborn, cooing and shushing her from his place in bed.

Andromache, equally haggard, gave a soft smile before stretching her legs. She led a dumbfounded Achille out of the room to give Hector some privacy, softly closing the door behind them as they stood in the hallway.

"You asked me this a while ago," Achille found his voice, his throat restricted with an odd emotion, "You asked if we could give Paris a stable life. Could we?"

Andromache scrubbed at her face as she considered his words. To that, she replied:

"Like Hector said, we'll be fine."

[teecupangel]

Hiya! Could I possibly get more of the "cat cult"? I wanna see Ziio, Achilles, and many other AC characters as kittens.

(Why can I see Ziio being pure black, female kitty? Kinda like this;)

The “Altaïr gets a cult (but nobody cares about that) and gets lots of cats against his will” idea and the “Malik and Altaïr bickers like an old married couple” side-idea with its sorta sequel “Ezio breaks down and starts doubting every cat he sees” idea.

“I have met with them.” Ezio said with the tired tone of a man who had seen god and returned with nothing but a new cape that did not even match any of his usual attire.

Antonio’s lips curved into an amused smile as he asked blithely, “Quite the eccentric trio, are they not? I find it is better to deal with Malik than the twins.”

Twins.

Is that what they believe Altaïr and Desmond were?

He had spent two hours, perhaps three, with them and the two acted more like Desmond was a child to be coddled and looked after. It didn’t remind him of how he and his siblings interacted with Petruccio though. Altaïr and Malik both worried and cared for Desmond as if they were afraid he would shatter in front of them.

Sometimes, Ezio wondered if Desmond’s serene look at everything, even in the face of danger and death, was a sign of something more concerning.

But it was not his place to say anything.

“Altaïr has a lot of interesting opinions.” Ezio said instead.

And plans.

One of which was to take over their cul- Brotherhood and reinstate the “no close relationship with any powerful faction” rule that Ezio had never even heard about.

Desmond had whispered to him that King Richard the Lionheart actually tried to develop a close relationship with the Brotherhood but Altaïr had ‘dumped’ him, whatever that meant.

Ezio supposed that his recounting of how close the Auditore was with the Medici prompted this entire thing. Before that, Altaïr had seemed reluctant to take his rightful place as their mentor. Ezio wasn’t even sure if his uncle would like what was about to happen.

“I’ve actually come here to ask a favor on their behalf.” Ezio said with a sigh, making Antonio raise an eyebrow.

“And is that favor connected to the cats that followed you here and have been staring at us?” Antonio asked lightly even though Ezio could see the wary (and fear?) in his eyes as he glanced at the cats lounging on the roof, peering over them.

“Ah, yes. Forgive me for the late introduction…” Ezio turned to acknowledge the four cats as he said, “The black one is… I cannot remember her name but Desmond told me I can call her Ziio. The black and white one is Achilles. The grey and brown one is Maria. And the white and orange one is Clay.”

Among the four, only the one called Clay meowed, as if greeting back.

“They’re here to… support me.”

According to Desmond anyway.

While they all seemed to follow Altaïr back to their home, it seemed Desmond was the one who talked to them the most and named them.

“They are connected to the favor I wish to ask.” Ezio said and decided to just push through so he could get it over with, “They have decided to travel to Monteriggioni to talk to my uncle.”

And usurp him if the need arises, apparently.

Desmond was quite happy to tell Ezio their plan even though he knew that they were talking about his uncle.

Of course, we’re not going to kill anyone. Especially not Zio Mario!

The easy way Desmond called his uncle ‘zio’ made Ezio confused of their actual blood connection.

But everything about Desmond was a mess of confusion and worry. Altaïr calling Desmond his ‘child’ (said in a jest perhaps?) did not help at all.

“They need someone to take care of the cats while they are gone.” Ezio continued, “Just to feed them and make sure they have ample clean water every day. Perhaps clean any messes they make while playing inside. Desmond assured me that they take care of their ‘business’ outside or in the garden, behind the bushes…”

Antonio stared at him for a moment.

“Would you happen to know anyone who wouldn’t mind taking care of their-” army of “cats?”

“Will you be joining them in their travels?” Antonio asked and Ezio shook his head.

“We decided it would be better if I did not. I do not want my uncle to make a mistake and believe I have any part of this.” Ezio sighed.

The most he had done was explain the current state of the Brotherhood (although Desmond seemed to know about it, now that he thought about it). He didn’t have any hand on their plans or their decisions.

“Then it seems to me you already found the best person to take care of the cats!” Antonio said cheerfully as he patted Ezio’s shoulder.

Ezio blinked.

Ah.

He supposed Antonio was right.

For once…

Ezio wished he was being chased all over by guards.

[floralcavern]

TSOA - Tying Up Lose Ends - Part 2

Previous

Achilles was tapping his foot impatiently, his nerves buzzing. Eventually the boat reached close enough to land. Before Charon could announce their stop, Achilles jumped off, landing in the Elysium Fields and throwing off his helmet into the grass. He pushed his way past many burly looking men, who all seemed to be looking at him curiously. 

“PATROCLUS!” He cried out. 

He looked around wildly. His soul felt cold and alone. His soulmate, his other half, wasn’t here. He couldn’t sense the warmth of his dear Patroclus..

“Where is he?!” He sobbed. 

The other heroes looked at him, mildly concerned. 

“Has anyone come in?!” He asked, yelling and panicking. 

“Not anyone named.. Patroclus, was it?” Answered one man. Achilles had seen enough art and sculptures of this man to know that this was Heracles. Usually, in any other circumstance, he’s be in awe of being face to face with the great Heracles. But right now, that was not his greatest concern. 

“Where could he be?!” Achilles sobbed. 

He turned to Charon, who was about to sail away, but before he could, Achilles grabbed onto him. The other heroes were shocked. No one dared grabbed onto the ferryman of the dead, not even Greek’s greatest heroes. 

“Take me to Hades,” Achilles said through snarled teeth and desperate eyes. 

Charon was surprised by Achilles’ boldness, but gave him a simple nod and calmly drifted off on the river. 

He reached a castle. It was relatively small, but it still managed to loom and cause dread. Surely, this was the castle of Hades..

Hades was already waiting outside, as if he was expecting Achilles..

“Where is he?!” Achilles demanded, stumbling off the boat. “Where. Is. Patroclus?!” He didn’t care that he was face to face with a god. Hades, no less. He didn’t care about the terrifyingly pale skin of him, or his black, glowing, haunted eyes that seemed to have spirits trapped within them. 

“Achilles..” he simply said, a whisper, a whisper of the Lord of the Dead. “You surely managed to avoid the Fates for quite a while.. the gods were afraid you would change the course of the future..”

Achilles was fuming with rage. He didn’t care about that. He didn’t care about what the gods thought of him, or the Fates. 

“Where. Is. He?”

“I’m afraid he’s not here.”

“What do you mean?! He’s meant to be buried with me! Why isn’t he here?”

“I’m afraid he was never properly buried.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Your son, Neoptolemus, refused to honor your final wishes. He’s still wandering the mortal planes.”

“My.. son..” Pyrrhus..“No.. please” Achilles legs were shaking and now, desperate and full of sorrow and despair, bowed on one knee before the god. “Please. I know. I know I have been rude. I know I have been disrespectful. But please.. please make an exception for my dearly beloved Patroclus..” his voice broke. His forehead pressed pressed against the cold ground. “I’ve heard stories of your cruelty. But I’ve mostly heard stories of your mercy. Please.. I cannot live even in the Afterlife without him..”

“I’m sorry..” he could hear the pity in the god’s voice. “There is nothing I can do for this..”

Achilles sucked in a sharp breath. 

“I understand your sorrowing, Aristos Achaion..”

“You.. You know nothing of my pain!” He lifted his head, forgetting once again who he was speaking to. “You are a god! You look down on us mortals and you love to ruin our lives! I know this to be true! I know what Apollo did! He helped them! He helped them… take away my philtatos..” he said the finale words, breaking into tears. 

“Young Achilles. I truly wish there was something I could do. I understand what it feels like to be ripped from the love of your life. I always experience this, every year.”

“Yes.. but in the end, you’re always reunited with your dearly Dread Persephone..” he said the name bitterly. He knew it was a horrible idea to speak badly of Persephone. If Hades wouldn’t kill him for speaking ill of his wife, she may kill you herself. But he was already dead. And he didn’t care if they made his soul cease to exist. It would mean nothing to exist without Patroclus…

There was a pause. 

“Yes.. I am..”

“Please.. I beg of you..” even though he no longer had his physical body, he could still feel the knots in his stomach, the nausea in his head. “Just one exception.. please.. for my beloved Patroclus..”

“I’m afraid it’s just not possible..”

The world was falling. 

“There are some things not even gods are capable of doing..”

His head is spinning. 

“He may never come to the Underworld..”

His voice now raw as he screamed in pain, on his knees, screaming, as the Lord With Many Names stared at him with the greatest pity a god could give a man. 

Next

[toxic-mothers-tourney]

Hi! I submitted Thetis from The Song of Achilles (TSOA). She is So Awful I thought I'd share some evidence. Tw for sexual assault.

Thetis kidnaps her son (Achilles) to trap him on an island, separating him from his father and his partner (Patroclus, the narrator). When Patroclus finds the island, it's revealed that Achilles has married a princess who is pregnant with his child (Pyrrhus). Achilles and Patroclus have this conversation:

"Please, wait. Please, let me explain. I did not want to do it. My mother—” He was breathless, almost panting. I had never seen him so upset. “She led the girl to my room. She made me. I did not want to. My mother said—she said—” He was stumbling over his words. “She said that if I did as she said, she would tell you where I was.”

... “You did it for nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your mother did not tell me where you were. It was [your father].”

His face had gone pale, bled dry. “She did not tell you?”

"No. Did you truly expect she would?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

TSOA, Chapter 12

In the excerpt below, Patroclus has died in the Trojan war and observes as a ghost. Achilles returns from another day of killing Trojans in a grief-driven murder spree. Thetis warns him that the god Apollo will punish him if he doesn't stop:

“Achilles.” She strides to him, seizes his chin. “Listen to me. You go too far in this. I will not be able to protect you from [Apollo].”

He jerks his head from her and bares his teeth. “I do not need you to.”

Her skin is whiter than I have ever seen it. “Do not be a fool. It is only my power that—”

“What does it matter?” He cuts her off, snarling. “[Patroclus] is dead. Can your power bring him back?”

“No,” she says. “Nothing can.”

He stands. “Do you think I cannot see your rejoicing? I know how you hated him. You have always hated him! If you had not gone to Zeus, he would be alive!”

“He is a mortal,” she says. “And mortals die.”

“I am a mortal!” he screams. “What good is godhead, if it cannot do this? What good are you?”

“I know you are mortal,” she says. She places each cold word as a tile in a mosaic. “I know it better than anyone. I left you too long on Pelion. It has ruined you.” She gestures, a flick, at his torn clothing, his tear-stained face. “This is not my son.”

His chest heaves. “Then who is it, Mother? Am I not famous enough? I killed Hector. And who else? Send them before me. I will kill them all!”

Her face twists. “You act like a child. At twelve Pyrrhus is more of a man than you...He will come, and Troy will fall...He is the next Aristos Achaion [best Greek warrior].”

“I am not dead yet.”

“You may as well be.” The words are a lash. “Do you know what I have borne to make you great? And now you would destroy it for this?” She points at my festering body, her face tight with disgust. “I am done. There is no more I can do to save you.” Her black eyes seem to contract, like dying stars. “I am glad that he is dead,” she says. It is the last thing she will ever say to him.

TSOA, Chapter 31

Thetis' whole plan was to make Achilles into a god. If his fame was great enough, he'd become immortal. As a goddess, she will never enter the afterlife, so making her son immortal was the only way for her to avoid losing him.

Thetis did not plan to have Achilles; she became pregnant when Achilles' father sexually assaulted her. As a goddess, Thetis is different from humans both physically and culturally. Gods are more unemotional and cold, and Thetis shows a consistent distaste for mortals. Achilles sees himself as mortal, and it hurts him to see her reject all the Earthly things that contribute to his personhood.

Only after she loses Achilles to the afterlife does Thetis come to accept his mortal side. She listens to Patroclus' ghost tell her stories about Achilles. Eventually, she makes it so Patroclus' ghost is no longer trapped on Earth, and he and Achilles reunite in the afterlife.

Thetis is very complex. I think the book puts effort into showing the trauma Achilles endures under his mother & how it shapes him. At the same time, the books lets us know that having a mortal son was thrust on Thetis against her will. In the end, after repeatedly sacrificing Achilles' happiness in the name of keeping him alive, Thetis gives up the comfort of Patroclus' stories to make Achilles happy. A very notable, toxic, complicated fictional mom.

^^^

[send-up-my-heart-to-you]

What if Annabeth died in the Giant War? (5/8)

Pov: Hestia, goddess of the hearth

The son of Poseidon was coming. I could sense his aura, even from the throne room. Zeus had summoned all the Olympians together for a meeting; Apollo and Artemis have been summoned from their prison on Delos, and even Hades was summoned up here. I may not be an Olympian anymore, but I want to make sure no fights break out among my family.

That is my purpose, after all, as the goddess of the home.

"Father," Artemis asked. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Are me and Artemis being freed?" Apollo asked hopefully.

"Yes, Apollo," Zeus answered. "We are in troubled times. Annabeth Chase has-"

"My daughter has fallen in battle." Athena cut in. Her intense gray eyes, red from sorrow, were staring hard at Poseidon. "She has fallen at the hand of Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon."

"It was an accident," Poseidon said angrily. "My son is being destroyed by grief-"

"And that pain will not only destroy him, but it will also push him to destroy us." Zeus cut in, his voice full of authority. "I never warned you before, but my nephew is a dangerous opponent. If he had chosen to be a lesser god last year-"

"He would've destroyed us the instant my daughter released her last breath." Athena finished.

"Just slay him where he stands and get it over with," Ares grumbled. "I don't understand why some troublesome punk is such a big deal."

Poseidon's eyes blazed with anger. "The boy is in mourning. At least try to get him to see reason before annihilating him."

Hades opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly Demeter gasped. She doubled over, coughing.

"Sister?" I asked, alarmed. "What is it?" Demeter looked up, her face pale, ichor dribbling down the corner of her mouth. "A dryad has been killed. She died here, on Olympus."

"He is coming," Hades whispered harshly.

The doors flew open.

A young man stalked in, eyes like the calm before a storm. His clothes were ripped up and covered in dirt, and he had the scent of death clinging to him. He was carrying a dead dryad in his arms, her skin an abnormal shade of pastel greenish yellow. Her eyes were closed, her long black-and-white eyelashes brushing her cheeks.

There was another young man a little ways behind Percy Jackson, one I recognized instantly. He was the first mortal who has ever spoken to me in centuries, and he hadn't even known I was a goddess when he had. He was fiddling nervously with the skull ring on his finger. I guessed that he was here to keep Percy at bay if he went out of control.

"Nico di Angelo. Percy Jackson." I murmured. The two most powerful demigods I have seen for quite some time.

Nico seemed to hear me. "Hello, Hestia."

"I am sorry to hear about your lover, son of Poseidon," I said carefully.

"Oh, you might be. And Athena might be. What of the other gods? Are they sorry?" Percy didn't even glance at me.

"We are, as a matter of fact," Artemis answered. "Annabeth Chase was a marvelous fighter. Her death is a great loss to Camp Half-Blood. I would've loved to have her join my Hunters, but it seems her love for you was strong. She died a warrior's death; one she deserved."

"If she was a marvelous fighter and her death is a great loss, you have to consider that we are at war. Bring her back to me."

"That is not allowed," Zeus said. "Her soul has already passed. She resides in Elysium now. If we bring her back to war, she will be unhappy."

"Unhappy? Unhappy?" Percy roared. Nico flinched. "There are two people in my life that I need, and two people only. Anyone else can die. But if I lose either, I won't be able to continue living."

"Annabeth Chase," I said calmly. "And Sally Jackson."

"I've already been separated from my mother because of you, Hera." He glared at the goddess in question. "Now I lose Annabeth? I won't fight for the Greeks or the Romans if you do not bring her back to me. I will fight against them."

"Percy, don't be irrational. Achilles stopped fighting in the Trojan War, and it led to Patroclus's death." Hephaestus said. "Then that led to Achilles's death."

"I don't care, though, since I am Achilles who stopped fighting so Patroclus can be returned to me. And you think I would mind death?" A maniacal laugh bubbled out of him.

"You would," Hera said. "Your mother... she is pregnant."

Percy froze. The dryad's body fell to the ground as his arms went limp to his sides. "W-What?"

"She's one month now, nearly two. I already let them know. As the goddess of motherhood, I know when one is expecting."

Percy stared in shock for a moment. He fell to his knees and stared into space.

"Percy," Nico said softly. He knelt beside Percy. "Your mother. She cried every day of fear for you. Annabeth too. Paul comforted them both but it didn't help much. I know this because I used to go to her often, to give her updates on you. She needed it, she said. Then Annabeth knew you were in Camp Jupiter, and that gave her and your mother hope. Then your mother found out she was pregnant and was delighted. She kept talking about how great it would be for you to have a younger sister."

Percy didn't seem to hear him. He was looking down, still in shock. Then slowly, he looked up.

His voice was monotonous. "I won't lose my mom or my baby sibling. I won't lose Annabeth. I will bring her back." Water appeared out of nowhere, swirling around us. Fear washed over me, like a cold hand clutching my heart. "Die."

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the tears forming in Percy's eyes as he walked over to the Ophiotaurus, his sword in hand.

[aidendh]

Incarnate Ideas p4

RAU = Incarnate from birth

REAU = My heroes reborn

BSD! OC! Seki

Grew up in the slums

Ability: Pick Me, Choose Me?

*Can change into other people at any version of the person's age

*has to be consensual to activate

*gets random tidbits/knowlage of the ppl memories (past/present/future)

(Normal)Izuku hair, glasses, grey overalls, pink-violet eyes

Physically 13 but chose to look like a child

Taken in by the Ranpo Edogawa

*Ranpo/Atsushi/Yukichi, forms

RAU! Suke/Adrik Twin AU

Toxic Twins

Overprotective Adrik

Toxic Adrik

P5 1st timeline, Suke

P5 2ed timeline, Suke/Adrik/Abalynn

RAU! Suke Adrik Fusion

Suke 'Hinata'(Harris)

Both souls fused before birth

Looks like suke but black tufts

Doesn't have much control of Punishment

Doesn't want to kill anyone again, after accidentally triggering C&P on his younger sister

(Triggered his FD memories)

Suke is the more dominant soul, as Adrik takes a backseet approach

Quirk: Minor Telepathy

*Can input a word or feeling upon someone

Can shift between souls if triggered

AU! RAU! (Suke) Izuku Midoriya

If he could awaken others memories

(Appearance attributes will start to grow in after remembering, Tufts, Streaks, Eyes)

Order of Remembering

Katsuki Bakugo - Haru Okumura (Love-Hate w/Izuku)

Tenya Iida - Yusuke Kitagawa (Often doodles)

Ochaco Uraraka - Abalynn Grace (Often has nightmares)

Yuga Aoyama - Goro Akechi (Knew before UA)

AU! RWBY (BSD abilities) {Bases}

Ruby Rose - Little Red Rider (French)

* same as semblance

Yang Xiao Long - Golden Locks (British)

* '3rd trys a charm'

Blake Belladonna - Beauty of the Beast (French)

* Werecat

Weiss Schnee - Snow White (German)

* Cyrokinesis

Jaune Arc - {Joan of Arc} (French)

Nora Valkyrie - {Thor} (Norse)

Pyrrha Nikos - {Achilles} (Greek)

Lie Ren - {Hua Mulan} (Chinese)

DGRv3! RAU! Rantaro

(Clawacorn/Clawian)

RAU! Abigail/Aiden Harris

(Clawacorn/Clawian)

Random bouts of amnesia

Scar on their back

She/He/They (often changes)

Male romantic / Asexual

Main Magic: Teleportation/Levitation

Signature skill: Portals ↑

Wouldn't see much point in hiding it from Abalynn when they get close

Sensitive Hearing/Smell

Soul sensing

¿Orange streak in hair/Pink or slitted eyes?

Minecraft/MLP logic

Prefures covering their eyes

RAU! Palace Ryuji Sakamoto

Cannaon but Palace

Doesn't awaken in Kamoshida's

Still main pt member

Butt of everyone's jokes

Feels like his feeling don't matter to others

Week willed

Could easily be Akumatized (it hurts to resist)

(Water/jester theme(Tsunami))

Loves and cares for his friends, but can only take so much

[And yes, I am projecting my own emotional state]

Though, despite all of this, he is Bff's with Ann Takamaki

Shiho died from the suicide

Ann doesn't want to loose him too

(But he could take it like he is just a replacement for Shiho)

Likes cats but often antagonized by Morgana

Often gets second hand (empathic) pain, e.g. Morgana running off, he realizes that leaving would just make it worse for his friends (feels stuck in a torrent of emotions

GI! AU! Fyodor Hinata

Basically Hinata family instead of the Twins

Hooded 'Mi'lord' instead of Princess

Electro Vision / Punishment

Dainsleaf is known as a Traitor

Elemental Burst: Crime and Punishment

- Semblance, P can only take elemental DMG

- F can only take physical DMG

- P will disperse if destroyed

- P casts an AoE instant kill upon summon (non-elemental)

Elemental Skill: Switches to Catalyst

Weapon: Sword /or/ Spear

Rarely uses his Vision or Ability

Wouldn't mind doing some of the dirty work himself

Most of the Family are apart of the Abyss order, but some are simple civilians or employed within different regions

RAU! Abyss!Lumine / Traveler!Aether

(Fyodor Hinata L/ Nagisa Hinata A)

(Adrik)Lumine F→M / Aether M→F

(Continued)

[wellbelesbian]

WIP Wednesday Thursday

my notifications must be well and truly busted, because tumblr didn’t bother to tell me that @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @erzbethluna and @confused-bi-queer all tagged me for WIP Wednesday yesterday until now, which is evidently no longer Wednesday. thanks anyway, guys!

but i’ve been staying up until 5 the past few nights engaged in a new WIP, so the petty constraints of linear time won’t stop me!

it’s not Carry On related, but i was tagged on this account so i’ll post it here anyway.

it’s sort of a retelling of the trojan war, except it’s set 18 years later and is all about the aftermath and the survivors. i try to stay mostly true to the sources, but also patch up any holes. like Briseis. she’s a major part of the Iliad, but then we just never find out what happens to her after Achilles dies! what??

it’s told from the perspective of Astyanax, who you may know was the infant son of Hector, the crown prince of Troy, and was thrown from the walls of the city when the war ended. except a lot of sources outside of Homer posit that he didn’t 👀

my Astyanax, who is non binary, was raised by his aunts Oenone, the first wife of Paris, and Cassandra, who also narrowly escaped death. but when Cassandra prophecies that they must make amends with the house of Achilles and Hector’s ghost urges them to find their mother Andromache, they set out an adventure and piece together the aftermath of the war as they go.

so yeah. i’ve spent the past few nights writing a rather long and detailed outline, making character picrews, and creating a big messy family tree. so here’s an excerpt, and i’ll put the family tree below too just for fun.

cw for mentions of rape

“Did Oenone ever tell you I was married?” Cassandra pulls up a handful of grass and twists her fingers in it, looking out to the sea.

“No.” Oenone told me so much about my family. I can recite all 99 of my aunts and uncles, as well as their spouses. But not Cassandra’s. I never knew. I wonder what else she never told me, and why.

“His name was Coroebus. I put off marriage for years. Becoming a priestess helped, and my supposed madness drove plenty of potential suitors away, but there are always men willing to look past an unpleasant wife if the alliance brings them power.” She throws the grass down and mumbles “no, that’s not fair to him. He was a good man.” She takes a deep breath. I wait in silence, not wanting to spook her.

“My parents forced me to marry him eventually. He was a king who came to Troy’s aid, I was their thanks, and they thought he might calm me down. He was gentle, and considerate, so I tried to be good. He listened to me, even if he didn’t believe me. And I never had any visions of what was to become of him, which was a mercy. Not that it mattered. That damned horse showed up just three days after we married. He died protecting me in the temple, and then that brute Ajax…” Her breath catches, she squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “His body was only a few feet away.”

I don’t even know what to say. Everyone suffered that night, death and loss and rape all across the city. I know it, but I can’t wrap my head around the enormity of it. I understand suddenly why it’s so hard for her to look upon the city’s ruins.

At a loss for words, I lean over and wrap my arms around her, letting her rest her head on my shoulder. She laughs brokenly. “I think this is supposed to be the other way around. You’re the baby of the family.” I don’t fight her about it this time. After a few minutes, she pulls away and wipes at her eyes.

“How do you live with it?”

“How do any of us?” She asks incredulously. “Oenone lives in the past, and when she runs out of ways to run from reality she turns into a rock.” She clasps my hands and meets my eyes, darkest brown with a pinprick of red fire dancing deep within. “I’ll tell you my secret. Every morning, when I wake up, I lie there and I list them. Everyone who died, for Troy, for me. My parents, my siblings, Coroebus, the Amazons. And then I get up, and I live that day for them.” I squeeze her hands, and she squeezes them back. “Do you understand? We live for them.”

and here’s the mess of a family tree, with Priam and Hecuba’s other 96 kids not pictured.

[sinstxrscreamwritcr]

< always keep the safety on >

no minors. smuttiness below cut. all characters 21+.

charlotte peers down the sight of a sniper rifle, trained on a man in a tight suit and gilded wristwatch. diamonds glint in midday sunlight, a chorus of chatter sounding below. boats float by on the river, peaceful, idyllic. all unaware that she's about to end someone's life - 

she's forced to bite her tongue when a smooth velour glove runs up her thigh. his body is a heavy weight, enveloping her in sugarplum purple and scent of lavender. " why the hell aren't you on street-level? we have a mission to - " 

" because the view's better up here, darling. " adam mouths, coarse stubble scraping delightfully at pale flesh. " besides, one of the others could take the shot for you. and you've owed me this for some time. "

" adam, we can't - ! here - ? " charlotte begins, but falters when he works her belt free. idly popping the button, tugging the zipper. the sound is overshadowed by their breathing. his fingers, still velour-clad, work their way lower. " goddamn if your timing isn't terrible. " 

" non-consent is still consent with me, lucky dove. " he breathes, tongue licking a broad stripe up her neck. " your no is my yes. what's the harm in taking risks? "

her pulse jumps, heart thudding against her ribs. if anyone were to look up, they'd see. her trigger-grip slides, barrel pointed to the sky. a hand catches rough stone, shuddering. his digits stroke, thumbing that bundle of nerves in slow circles. 

" mmm, remember vienna? fine wine, dancing, and oh - i couldn't wait to get you alone. that blue lace hugging your curves, gold peacock-feather accents, " he continues, " and the eyeshadow. made you look a goddess reborn. " 

faux velvet caresses slick flesh, parting her for better access. she does remember. that night had been special. once.

him, all in black; and her, all in blue - down to her lingerie. they'd spun across the ballroom floor, practically floating. food sampled, drinks tossed back. conversation kept short - 

" until I pressed you to an alcove and had you panting. underwear tugged aside, cock freed. such a needy thing. neck bared for me to sink my teeth. perfume and sweat and sex an aphrodisiac all its' own. " 

" are you two still wasting time? if so, i'll blow the bastard's brains out myself! " ahkos' voice cut through. adam gives a smirk. never stopping, nor slowing, his other hand touches his earpiece. 

" onward with the brutality. charlotte's distracted, i'm afraid. " he responds, watching her. mouth open in a silent moan, hands flat against cinderblock. she shivers, eyes tightly closed.

" achilles - fuck, whatever your name is, just k-kill him - " charlotte gasps, rocking, grinding against adam's hand. " i - fuck, can't stay focused - " 

and it's true. she can't. not with his fingers inside her up to the knuckle, thumb circling counter-clockwise. he's quicker now, adding pressure. her cheeks flush with heat. she bites her cheek to keep from moaning, tongue still stinging. 

" mhm, dove, you look divine - at my mercy, eyes beginning to glaze and lips parted. " adam hums, neatly removing the earpiece. he places it beneath the rifle stand, volume raised and broadcast net widened. 

" would you like the others to hear as i make you come? let them know just what we're doing? "

" we don't need to hear that shit, you prick - " 

" oh, of course you do, " adam counters, a jab. " you're not the only one that's been caught with your hands in places they shouldn't be. what was it you once said, that we should share our toys? " 

" shut the fuck up you son of a bitch - or i'll put this bullet between your legs. " laos growled, " see how you fucking like it. "

" bet i'd love it. go ahead, pull the trigger. " adam replied, a teasing lilt to his tone. " what, too big of a target? " 

" too small, asshole. " 

adam feigns a wince, pouting. " oh, low blow, laos. i'll have you know i'm not. well, not where pleasure's concerned. you, on the other hand... "

" knock it off, adam! achilles! take the damn shot before monsieur duvalle notices! we can't let this belly up! " their superior bites out. 

" how about I knock you off, frenchman? you seem tense. " 

" fuck you! "

charlotte whimpers. her nails scrape stone. hips buck, eyes shut. flush spreads. " you - oh, oh god, you're such - a fucking asshole. " 

" mmm, maybe so - " adam muses, " you're still so weak for me, dove. fucking yourself on my fingers like this. so sweet, so slick - "  

pigeons startle. a dog barks in the alley below. a hand grips his scarf, tugged off-balance. his digits curl, grinning. she's close, he's soaked.

" welcome your little death as duvalle meets his, " he purrs in her ear.

achilles pulls the trigger. porcelain shatters, overshadowing her own cry. red blossoms across the man's chest. her vision whites out. 

then, the screams start. 

still wet, he escorts her from the tower. metal bumps his leg as they make a beeline for getaway. to any other, they'd look pedestrians catching a cab. 

sirens begin to wail. boys in blue on the scene. time to collect the rest and rendevous elsewhere. 

adam gives a surly achilles a wink once inside, raising his hand. as his tongue lewdly works the material, he groans. his comrade offers a single-fingered salute while tipping a beer bottle up. 

" jealous, laos? or envious? "

" neither, you pompous peacock. i've half a mind to let my boot meet your ass. " ahkos snarls, teeth bared in the neon glow.

" make it your mouth instead and we're set, " adam offers with a smirk.

" don't do that again. ten minutes to subdue or kill. achilles chose kill. you - you had the audacity to get into sexual hijinks with her! " renault slid into his seat, glaring daggers at adam. " don't you have any impulse control? or control in general? " 

adam shrugs. leaning back, he then peels off his gloves. casually tossing them towards ahkos. the wolf withdraws a knife, pinning them to the floorboard. 

" cut that shit out. "

charlotte rolls her eyes. stuck with five year olds who think the world's their sandbox. " argyle - " 

" before you say anything - i apologize for the tight situation. " adam murmurs, a coy grin stealing across his face. his gaze flicks to her hands, then back up.

" a tight - what? " charlotte blinks, confused. cool metal curves around her wrists. realization hits like a gut-punch. "you didn't - tell me you didn't, adam, or i swear to god - ! " 

" mhm, sorry darling. you just looked so delectable, all flushed and panting. our fun's not over. besides - i have the key. " he reassures, flashing a small sliver of silver. 

shit.

[lukecastellandeservedbetter]

20. Ghosted

a/n: keep a watch on my page because I’m going to be doing a near-essay about why Hermes kids are somehow the most and least powerful demigods at the same time thanks. Also here’s a reminder that I didn’t forget about this fic, and a double reminder that Luke and Percy are most definitely brothers and this is a little bonding time for them while the rest of the crew are off on their own adventures.  

read the others!: Masterlist

When Percy recounted the story, and told them to head to Charleston, Luke couldn’t help but groan. 

“What’s wrong with Charleston?” Piper asked him with a raised eyebrow. 

“It’s a real nasty place, with a lot of ghosts.” He sighed. “I ran into some trouble when I was there last time.” 

“For the Titan Army?” It wasn’t a mean question, just an honest one from Percy. “Do we have to worry about army rejects? Or supporters?” 

“No,” Luke shook his head. “I was like, 11 last time. But it doesn’t make it any less annoying to go back.” 

“I have so many questions.” Leo said, staring at Luke. 

“We don’t have time to answer them.” Annabeth interrupted. “Jason, you also seem uncomfortable with Charleston.” 

“Yeah did you also get chased by ghosts?” Percy teased. 

“I wasn’t chased by ghosts-!” Luke started to protest, but Annabeth held her hand up, effectively cutting him off, looking pointedly at Jason, who awkwardly recounted his quest with Reyna, casting apologetic glances to his girlfriend, who seemed just as uncomfortable. 

“Alright, girls trip to this ghost that Reyna spoke to then,” Annabeth looked at Hazel and Piper, who nodded. “And Jason, you’ll lead a group back to the museum.” 

“I wanna check out the cool weapons!” Leo grinned. 

“Frank, you should also come, since you’re a son of Mars.” Jason added. 

Frank seemed uneasy about heading so soon on another quest, but he agreed nonetheless. 

“That leaves Percy, Luke and Hedge on board,” Annabeth observed, then frowned. “How do you keep lucking out on missions?” 

Luke shrugged. “My talents haven’t really been needed, so I haven’t really gone.”

“What exactly are your talents?” Piper inquired, raising her eyebrow. “Besides Swordsmanship.” 

Luke shrugged again. “Hermes' kids talents aren’t big, or flashy because they shouldn’t be. They’re meant to be sly and sneaky and in the shadows. I spent years on the run before I got to camp. I can pick any lock in an instant. I’m also quick, and good with directions. We have our own form of Charmspeak I guess.” He paused. “And recently I found out I can play the lyre surprisingly well, so if we ever need that, we’re set.” 

“You’re kidding, right?” Leo laughed. 

“I would never lie about something as serious as the lyre, Leo.” Luke said deadpanned. 

Leo’s face dropped in surprise and he was left sputtering for a moment before the crew dissolved into a well deserved laughter. The tension that always seemed to lurk around the corner lifted a little, letting the demigods relax just for a moment. 

“And the Achilles Curse.” Percy added. “You still have that.”

“Yeah but that isn’t Hermes related.” He pointed out. “It’s just… me related.” 

“Can we get back to the plans please?” Annabeth drew everyone’s attention back as they laid out the groundwork for the plans. 

The next day everyone left early in the morning, and Coach Hedge was still sleeping. 

This left Percy and Luke bored in the mess hall. 

“Why don’t we go explore?” Percy offered. “Just take a walk around?” 

Luke looked up at him from his book and raised an eyebrow. “Are you crazy?” 

“It’s just us, that shouldn’t be enough smell to attract any monsters.” He pointed out. “Come on, please?” He begged. 

“Percy I don’t want to go walk around Charleston-”

“That’s right, I forgot you’re afraid of Charleston.” Percy huffed and flopped onto one of the big comfy chairs. 

“I am not afraid of Charleston.” Luke protested, glaring at Percy. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Percy waved his hand absentmindedly, looking at the walls that displayed Camp Half-Blood. 

“I am not!” Luke closed his book and tossed it aside, standing up. “Get up.” 

“Why?” He raised his eyebrow. 

“We’re going to explore Charleston.” Luke grumbled and headed out to grab his dagger from his room.

They snuck off the ship just fine and headed into town, down to the Charleston City Market. 

They had very limited money, so they tried not to spend too long at any one stand, smiling and greeting merchants and other shoppers. It was a warm and calm day, and despite the welcoming atmosphere, Luke seemed a little on edge. 

“What is with you?” Percy whispered to him. “Seriously dude, calm down. I don’t see any ghosts.” 

“Not yet.” He mumbled, his eyes scanning the crowd. 

Percy watched his friend with worry. He was starting to feel guilty about basically forcing Luke to go out on an adventure through the city with him, especially when it had such unpleasant memories for the older demigod. He cleared his throat as they continued through the crowds. “So, anything happen with that girl?” 

Luke looked at Percy, surprised. “What?” 

“The girl. From the candy shop?” He prompted, looking at a dyed blue leather bracelet curiously on one of the stands. “What was her name? Sophie?” 

Luke couldn’t help the blush creeping up his neck. “I uh,” He fiddled with another leather cuff, this one brown and aged. “Sort of?” 

“Sort of?” Percy repeated. 

“Yeah, sort of. We had a date planned.” Luke shrugged. “At least I think it was a date.” 

Percy looked at him, his eyebrows raising so high they nearly disappeared beneath his shaggy black hair. “And how did it go?” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t go.” The older demigod fished in his pocket for some cash, handing it to the merchant who gave him the bracelet in his hand, as well at the blue one Percy had been eyeing. 

Percy looked exasperated. “What do you mean you didn’t go?” He demanded.

Luke handed Percy his and put his own on carefully as they walked. “Something came up.” Luke shrugged, strangely reluctant to tell Percy that his disappearance caused Luke to miss the date. 

Luke knew Percy felt guilty about disappearing, even if it wasn’t his fault. Between Annabeth, who Percy was currently with, and Sally who Percy couldn’t contact in case it tipped off the Romans, Luke knew the son of Poseidon was having a rough time adjusting to the merging of his old Greek life and his new, shorter Roman one. Percy would often wear hoodies around the ship to cover the tattoo that burned like a reminder of the time that he was gone from Camp, from their lives. He didn’t want to add this burden on him, on top of everything else.

But Percy wasn’t having it. 

“What do you mean something came up?” He scoffed, struggling to tie the bracelet on. 

“Well…” Luke trailed off, turning to Percy when they got out of the flow of traffic to help him tie the bracelet on. 

Percy was smarter than anyone gave him credit for. 

“Let me guess, your best friend disappeared off the face of the earth and you had to go save his sorry ass?” Percy asked, admiring the new bracelet. 

“Who said you were my best friend?” Luke scoffed, but deep down, he knew it was true. 

Percy rolled his eyes as they headed over to one of the candy stands. Luke picked out some sour cherries, and Percy grabbed some blue raspberry sours. They were quiet for a moment, Percy opting to pay this time. 

The boys took their treats and headed out, making their way back to the ship. 

“Thank you.” Percy said after a long silence. 

“For what?” Luke looked at him confused. 

“For coming to find me.” He said softly. “And the bracelet. And exploring Charleston, even though you’re afraid of ghosts.” 

“I’m not afraid-” Luke sighed, before cutting himself off and shaking his head. “Of course I’m coming after you idiot, you said it yourself, you’re my best friend. Besides, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you. You saved my ass, so it was my turn.” He shrugged, popping a sour cherry into his mouth. 

“And I’m sorry you missed your date.” Percy added. 

“Well, if I’m lucky I’ll get another chance when we get back.” He shrugged again. 

Percy nodded and thought for a moment. “Why are you so antsy about Charleston?” 

Luke groaned. “I was like, 11, and this kid comes up and starts messing with me so finally I tell him to fuck off and he gets spooked because he didn’t realize I could see him and then he gets a couple of his ghost friends and they run me out of town.” 

Percy raised his eyebrow. “So you were chased by-”

“Yes Percy I was chased by ghosts!” Luke cut him off irritably. “Next time you go missing, I’m going to leave your ass to Rome.” He huffed. 

“No you won’t.” Percy reminded him. “Mom would kill you.” 

“You’re right. She is one scary lady when she wants to be.” He sighed and glanced at Percy. 

His resolve broke and he chuckled, shaking his head and ruffling Percy’s hair. “Seriously, it’s good to have you back man.” 

“It’s good to be back.” Percy grinned back, swatting Luke’s hand away. “And just for the record I would save your ass from the Romans any day.” He told him, fixing his hair.

“Good.” Luke nudged him. “I’m gonna change and do some practice, alright? I’ll catch you at dinner.” 

Percy nodded and headed off to his own room. 

Luke waited until Percy had disappeared before glancing over the edge of the ship. Standing on the greenery below was the same young, translucent boy from when Luke had been there over a decade ago, staring up at Luke with an unreadable expression. Luke raised a hand, waving to the kid. The kid, in turn, waved back after a moment, before disappearing entirely. 

[ratonnhhaketon]

Revenge is a Fool’s Game (Chapter 1)

Read on Ao3 | Next Chapter

Summary: Born to two Assassins in the Colonial Brotherhood, Eleanor Price was destined for great things. That is, until the disaster at the Davenport Homestead leaves her family in hiding and her parents' pasts long forgotten. She is determined to find and kill the men responsible for her father's death, no matter the cost. Revenge may be a fool's game, but Ellie plays to win. And the prize might just be a blossoming relationship with the boy training alongside her.

A/N: This is the completely rewritten and revamped version of my previous fic involving Connor and my oc Eleanor Price, Iron. Same characters, different plot, a lot better writing. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1 - The General Store 

The city of Boston was bustling despite the chilling winter that was beginning to slowly come to an end. Civil unrest had been getting heavier during recent days and everyone could sense that something big would happen if it was not taken care of. 

The general store was particularly cold that day, and the occasional burst of frozen air that would rush in with a customer trying to escape the harsh temperature outside was especially chilling. The only sounds occupying the small building were light murmurs escaping the back room and the steady brush of a broom across the front room’s floor. 

The door to the store opened, and a boy about 14 walked in. He wore tan clothing, made of some animal hide, and was donning several weapons. As he pulled the door closed behind him his amber eyes wandered to the girl sweeping the front of the store. She spared him a small glance at first, before looking back up in wonder at him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know where to start. 

He seemed just as unsure of his presence as she was. 

Before he had a chance to speak, a woman exited the back room and walked behind the counter. She had on a typical pale pink dress with a white apron tied around her waist. Her hair was twisted up underneath a bonnet, with only a few curls sticking out around her face. “Can I help you, sir?” She spoke up in a sweet tone. 

The boy walked over to the counter and pulled a pouch of coins and a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I need the items on this list.” 

The woman picked up the list and read it over. “Yes, well.. we can get you the tool, pitch, and nails. Lumber is hard to come by these days, as our supplier seemingly vanished.” She poured out some of the coins and counted them before giving the pouch back to the boy. “Now, where did you want these delivered?” 

“Our wagon is just outside, by the statehouse.” His voice was smooth and calm, like each syllable was carefully thought over before speaking. As he walked towards the door he and the girl shared one final glance. 

“Eleanor, come help me gather these supplies.” The woman behind the counter spoke up. The girl gave her mother a quick glance to acknowledge what she had said and immediately turned back towards the door. The boy had left in a flash. 

Begrudgingly, she propped her broom up against the doorframe and followed her mother into the back of the store. 

Fifteen minutes and a few splinters later, all of the ordered supplies had been packed into crates and boxes and were ready to be delivered to the boy’s carriage. Ellie and her sister, Peggy, were tasked with the job of moving the supplies while their mother stayed back in the store tending to customers. 

When they returned through the back door of the store, Peggy noticed their mother deep in conversation in the front room. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She spoke up with an uncertain tone. The two girls quickly hid around the corner of the door frame to further listen-in on the discussion. 

“Not really, no, but I have faith in the boy.” A familiar voice that they knew belonged to Achilles Davenport responded. “He has a lot to learn before he is ready, but he is showing signs of improvement each day.” A gruff sigh. “Have you considered talking about The Creed with the girls?” 

“Absolutely not.” Alice spoke up a little too quickly.

“Alice, don’t you think the girls deserve to know what really happened to their father? You cannot keep telling this lie in hopes-“ 

“No, Achilles, listen to me!” She cut him off. “I can’t go back to that life, I can’t put my girls in danger like that!” A few seconds of silence before Alice spoke up again, this time in a much quieter voice. “I can’t relive what happened to James-“

A gunshot rang out on a street very close to the store, stunning her into silence.  

The two girls peeked out from behind the wall and Peggy spoke up with a very concerned tone. “Mother?!” 

“Girls, make sure the back door is locked and the curtains are drawn over every widow.” The girls wasted no time in retreating back out of sight to the back room of the store. 

“The Templars are behind this.” Achilles spoke in a serious tone. 

Alice’s head whipped back over to face him. Her jaw was tense and there were tears forming in her eyes. “How do you know?”

“I saw Haytham with my own two eyes.” Alice felt her heart drop at those words. 

“He is in Boston?” The older man only replied with a nod. “Oh god, no..”

“Go and keep your family safe. I have matters to attend to.” He turned and started to walk towards the door, with Alice following close behind him. 

She opened the door and held it open for him. “Safety and peace, Achilles.”

He gave her a nod and a light smile. ���To you as well.”

~~~~~

It had been nearly a week since the horrible events in Boston had conspired. After finding out that Haytham had orchestrated the massacre Alice had felt nothing but stress and worry.  She was constantly checking the town around her while outside of the store or their home and had started carrying a small knife on her person for self defense. 

Eleanor and Peggy were left alone in the store for the time being, as Alice was on her way back from helping a customer bring their order to their home a few buildings down the street. 

As she was walking back she noticed a familiar figure open the door to the store. Tall, dark hair tightly pulled back, and donning a long black cloak with red accents and numerous weapons slung around the torso. Alice felt her heart shoot up into her neck as she realized who the figure was. 

He had finally found them. 

After grabbing handfuls of her skirts and hoisting them up, she ran the rest of the way down the road and practically ripped the door off of its hinges as she bursted into the building. Her daughter and the man immediately forgot their conversation to turn their attention towards her. “She’s actually not in at the mo- Oh, mother! Are you alright?” Panting and out of breath, Alice only nodded in reply while desperately swallowing down gulps of air. “Well, this gentleman here was actually looking for you.” 

She stood up straight and let out one final ragged breath. “Darling, could you give us some privacy?” 

“Oh, uhh, of course! Absolutely.” The girl quickly disappeared into the back room, making sure to shut the door behind her. However, that didn’t stop her from pulling her sister from her work to listen in to the conversation through the wall. 

“Well, you found me. I’m surprised it took you all this long, considering we never even left the northern colonies. So, are you here to kill me? Take me hostage? Throw me in front of a firing line like you did to all those poor citizens last week?” 

The man looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Alice, I.. I’m not here to hurt you. And I had nothing to do with the massacre, I only read about it in the paper and wanted to make sure you were all okay. What are you talking about?”

Alice crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a stern look. “Your mentor and his associates were behind it.” 

“I swear on my daughter’s life that I am not lying to you.” 

Alice felt her blood begin to boil and heat creep up her face. “Shay, I’m sorry but I have not seen you in seven years and suddenly you show up, hoping everything will just be fine and that I will just suddenly trust you? You killed my husband and then went silent up until now. This whole time I thought something had happened to you, or that you had gone off and gotten yourself killed.” 

“Alice-“

"You have some nerve showing your face to me, Shay Cormac!"

"Alice, please!" She let out a huff before looking at the man in front of her in the eyes, anger still present on her face. Shay sighed before continuing, "I tried to get him to go with the three of you but Haytham.. had other plans. I had to watch him get shot in the back." Alice looked away and tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. "I never wanted to hurt anyone in your family, you know that." 

“Shay," Alice spoke with a shaky voice. "Have you been keeping in contact with Haytham?” 

“No. The last time we spoke was after.. everything at the Homestead. I was angry at what he did and we had a falling out. I haven’t received word from him in years.” 

"So how do you know where we’ve been but he doesn’t? A man that smart would know to send scouts searching."

Shay let out a breath before answering. “He.. did. But the report was sent to Fort Arsenal and we made a deal. I will make sure no harm comes to his son as long as he does not harm any of you. That was actually the last conversation we had before he took his leave to Boston.” He put a cautious hand on her arm and, when she didn’t recoil, he relaxed and rubbed his thumb over the soft material of her sleeve. “I know you’ve all done just fine for yourselves for this long, but if you would allow it I’d like to be there for you if at all possible. I owe it to you for being absent this whole time.”

Alice thought over the idea for a moment before nodding. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Anything you need, I’ll provide for you. Money, supplies, weapons, you name it and I can get it.  

The younger of the two girls pulled her sister by the hand away from the door and into the middle of the room, earning a surprised “Hey!” from her older sibling. 

“I have an idea, but I need your help.” She looked at the closed door quickly before continuing. “I want the key to the study.” 

Peggy looked at her with wide eyes. “What? Ellie, are you crazy?! It’s off limits, you know we can’t go in there.” 

“Come on, please!” Ellie shot back with pleading eyes. “Don’t you want to know what mother is hiding from us? Especially after the weird conversations she had with Achilles and this Mr. Cormac out there now?” She sighed, “What if it’s information about father’s death?” 

Her sister let out a huff before nodding. “I suppose. But if we get in trouble it’s your fault!” 

~~~~~

The girls knew that Alice kept all her important keys together on the same ring. The store’s front and back, house, and study room keys were always in the same place. Locating them was not difficult, but acquiring them without their mother noticing was. 

When they returned home that night, Alice slipped the keys into her cloak after unlocking the door. 

Alright, now just to get it away from her.

She crossed the small room to the fireplace and immediately got to work on getting a fire started for the evening. As she worked the two girls shared a knowing look, signaling that they were going to try and execute their plan before the night was over. 

After a few minutes of work the room was lit by the orange glow of a fireplace and the house was warming up. Alice finally shed the thick cloak she was wearing and slung it over the chair by the door. “Girls,” she called into the sitting room where her daughters were seated by the fire. “I’m going to start supper. It should be ready in about 30 minutes or so.” 

The girls nodded at their mother before she disappeared into the kitchen. After waiting a minute or so to make sure she was preoccupied, Ellie made a beeline to where Alice had left the cloak. She fished the keyring out of the outerwear’s pocket and flashed it to her sister. Peggy looked up, gave her a knowing smirk, and set off for the study down the hall with Ellie following close behind her. 

Of course, all three of the keys looked the same so they had to try each of them to find the correct one. After getting the door open, Ellie stepped in cautiously and looked around with a look of wonder. The room had two tall bookshelves completely filled to the brim with old books as well as a large desk with chairs on either side. 

Peggy glanced out the door of the study and down the hall before speaking in a low voice, “Just hurry up and grab something.” 

Ellie approached the desk in the middle of the room and picked up a large red, leather-bound book and opened it. Peggy walked over and peered over her sister’s shoulder to read the first page of the book with her.

“What do you two think you are doing?” Alice’s angry voice ripped them from their thoughts. 

The two girls shot back from the desk, terror written all over their faces. Ellie immediately tried to hide the worn out book behind her back. “We-uh, I…”

“It was her idea!” Peggy shot an accusatory finger towards her sister, earning a hard smack to the shoulder. 

Alice approached them menacingly and snatched the book out of Ellie’s grasp before placing it down a little too aggressively on the table next to them. “Haven’t I told you girls that this area is off limits?!” She turned to look at the girls, anger and worry raging in her green eyes. “The information in these books is not for the two of you to be learning. It could cost you your lives.” 

Ellie straightened her back and looked her mother in the eyes. “What are you hiding from us? I heard your conversations with Achilles and Mr. Cormac. What really happened to our father?”

Alice’s voice shrank and her threatening posture fell. “Girls, please.. we’ve been over this.”

Ellie felt tears start to glaze over her eyes. “No we haven’t! We deserve to know what truly happened to him! To our father!” As she grew increasingly upset she felt tears start to steadily roll down her face. 

Peggy stepped forward next to her sister and spoke up. “What if something happened to us. Wouldn’t you want to know who was responsible?” 

Alice looked down at her feet and struggled to find the right words. “I..” A frustrated sigh. “Yes. Yes, I would.” She walked over to the door and gestured for the girls to exit the room. “Go on. We have a lot to discuss over dinner.”

[projectomerta]

Kindred Souls - Chapter 3: Captivity & Doubt

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed

Words: 1061

Miriam was smiling, looking at her siblings. Francis and Layla were arguing with each other, like always. Kevin and Robbie had always had a good relationship, and that day wasn’t any different, as the two brothers were cracking jokes at one another and laughing together as usual. Miriam shifted her gaze from her siblings to her father, who was smiling back at her. Suddenly, however, everything changed. Francis and Layla stopped arguing, Robbie and Kevin stopped smiling and so did their father. All of them stared Miriam in the eyes from where they were standing and everything vanished, as Miriam gasped.

“You kept us waiting long enough.” 

Miriam heard the Irishman talking, but didn’t actually process what he had said. It was all a dream, Miriam, calm down.

“I’m talking to you.” Said the Irishman, in a calm manner. 

Miriam looked up at him. It was then that she realized she was tied to a chair. She tried freeing herself by cutting the rope with her hidden blades, but she quickly stopped when she saw them on top of a table, next to her other weapons. She took a better look at her captors. One of them was her target, Collins. He was still wearing his templar garments, though he was nothing but a politician at this point, since both his age and physical shape stopped him from taking on the more action packed activities of the templars. The Irishman, however, was a different story. He was a tall middle-aged man, with dark hair well arranged in a ponytail. His clothes were black with red touches, and were full of templar motifs. He looked good.

He walked closer to Miriam. “Did Achilles send you?” 

Miriam was confused. “Who’s Achilles?!” She yelled, “I’ve just come to kill that man! He kidnaps children and sends them away on ships as slaves!”

An indiganted expression appeared on Collins’ face. “Young lady, I would never do such a thing!” 

“Don’t play coy with me, Assassin!” Said the Irishman, “Tell me! Did Achilles send you?”

“I’ve told you! I don’t know anyone named Achilles!” 

The Irishman looked angry. “There has only been one assassin Brotherhood in the colonies, and it was Achilles’!”

No, ours is the only one! What is he talking about?! 

Miriam grew impatient and spat on him. “Listen! I don’t know who that Achilles is, and I honestly don’t care! If you have even a shred of decency, you would kill that man next to you!” 

At that moment, Collins felt a chill go down his spine, like a jolt of electricity. He finally recognized Miriam. “I know that face!” He paused and looked at the Irishman before looking back at Miriam, “Mr. Shay, this girl is Rhodes’ daughter!” 

“Rhodes’? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it! I recognize those eyes, and I’m sure there was an Indian amongst his children.”

Shay looked at Miriam with an intense gaze. “Your father is a merchant, isn’t he?”

She hesitated to respond. “Yes, he is. Why?” 

“What business does he have sending assassin’s after innocent people?”

Miriam lost her composure after hearing Shay accuse her father. “The man is giving away children as slaves! How is that innocent?!” 

“Collins is an innocent man! He has never once done anything wrong! If anything, he has been helping this city grow! He uses his money to further the construction of the city, as well as other areas of the colonies!” 

Shay looked like he was telling the truth, but, on the other hand,  Miriam couldn’t bring herself to think that her father was lying. Everything in her body was telling her to choose a side, but she couldn’t just betray her family. What would father even gain from lying like this? And as if god was listening, she was given a reason, in the form of Collins’ voice.

“Mr. Shay…” Collins looked ghostly, “I believe I know why Rhodes would want me dead.”

Shay and Miriam both looked at Collins.

“A few years ago, when I announced my business partnership with Hughes, Myers and Hill, he resented us for not including him in our union...” 

Miriam was speechless. She knew those names far too well, as she had heard them earlier tonight. Those three were the targets her siblings were in charge of killing. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Her captors sounded like they were being honest and, at the same time, she couldn’t stop herself from doubting her father and she couldn’t feel any worse about it.

“So your father sent you to settle a personal score, huh?” Shay asked.

Miriam was completely out of herself, “I… No! Well… I don’t know...” 

Shay realized how Miriam was just being used by her father, and felt sorry for her. “Look, It’s normal to be confused, but I can assure you that Collins has never done anything like what your father has accused him of.” Shay pulled out his dagger and walked behind her.

Miriam got nervous, but to her surprise, he cut the rope around her wrists.

“Mr. Shay, what on Earth are you doing?!” Collins asked.

“I’m doing the right thing.” Shay said, as he cut the ropes around her feet.

“Are you letting me go?”

“Yes,” Shay picked up her weapons from the table, “These are yours.” 

Miriam was grateful, but all of Shay’s sympathy only served to confuse her even more. Her headache from that morning had come back to haunt her. She equipped her blades, and put the rest of her weapons in their respective pockets.

“How long has it been, since I was knocked out?” Miriam asked.

“About an hour, although I can’t be sure.” Collins answered.

Miriam was slightly shaken by this information. “Mr. Collins, with all due respect,” she took a deep breath, “I’m sure my siblings have already killed your associates, and if you’re innocent like you claim to be, I offer you my condolences.” She then turned to Shay, “I don’t know if you’re telling the truth,” she started, sternly, “But you’ve shown me mercy, so I’ll give you my thanks.” her eyes narrowed slightly, “But if I find out you’re lying, Collins won’t be the only victim.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I always welcome a visit from a pretty lass…”

Miriam closed the door behind her, with a slight saddened smile on her face.

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Ajax: Birth of the Triple A Chimera

 Warning: cute fluffy creature death. I tried not to make it graphic. :/

             The fall splintered your body. It ruined your mind.

           Like Lucifer grasping at the heavens, wondering, But you said you loved me, your hand extended towards her, clinging to a snapping string, to your love, admiration, and respect. To the world how it once was. To a world how it should be.

           But she let you crumble into oblivion. That angel of Justice. Your Michael. The slick-fingered Azrael. She condemned you to be lost forever.

           Banishing herself into the bosom of a merciless moon queen, she left you there, on the cliff’s bottom, a scattered mosaic with nothing but Achilles’ curse keeping your meat suit together. Your eyes stare out like the exit of a well. Blank.

           Dead? No. I trembled to think you dead.

           Your injury is hidden behind a sheet of skin, but I can see your mind break. She betrayed your trust and betrayed your love. Your eyes gaze to the heavens as I cradle you, and you think you are lost.

           I won’t let you fall apart. If God doesn’t want us in his court, we shall build our court up to him and make him love us.

 --Jack, The day Thalia kicked Luke off a cliff

            “Can you babysit Ajax this Friday?”

         Pax wasn’t supposed to be eavesdropping on Axel and Alabaster and probably wasn’t supposed to hear that question. He was supposed to be moving boxes from the front of the new laboratory’s atrium to the center of the laboratory. This is where he hoped he would be turned into a variety of rodents (or mustelids, as Alabaster had corrected him: otters, minks, weasels—and that one time Axel was turned into a wolverine—were all part of the mustelid family).

         Technically, Pax was still doing his job. He just slowed down when entering the central hub of the laboratory, where Alabaster and Axel were talking.

The two had dragged in a massive crate of magical artifacts from different colonies of Greece. Really, Axel had carried his side while Alabaster was cursing and swearing over a hand that had been smashed in the doorway. Axel pulled the box open with a crow bar. Alabaster withdrew a lion mask that he said had mislabeled from Numidia, grumbling that he’d need to fix the labels once they were ready to put things on shelves.

         Between grumbles and devious chin strokes—which Pax thought made Alabaster look quite esteemed—Alabaster nodded. “I can watch him. Same time as your normal matches?”

         Axel’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He set the crow bar atop a stack of unsorted wooden boxes with a thunk. He undid his hairtie, shook the mane of braids and locks out, and went to retying his hair. Recently, Axel had quarter-shaved one side when he found a wad of gum in his bed. Pax knew it was Mercedes. Would anyone else believe him? No. Pax got blamed.

         “Thirty minutes earlier. Jack and Luke want to add in a pre-show. Apparently, they’re going to be recorded and sent to Antaeus. Luke… thinks he’ll like them.” Axel puffed up his cheeks and popped them. The motion made the shadows under his eyes look like a pit of Cocoa Puffs.

         “Ajax mentioned that you haven’t been sleeping well,” Alabaster said. Although he held the mask up, like he was examining it with the aloof expertise of someone that Indian Jones would rob, his gaze narrowed at the older boy.

         Pax hoped Axel would listen to Alabaster.

         Instead, Axel glared at the door entrance, where Pax hovered with another box. Pax thought he’d been inconspicuous. He’d been wrong before though, like the time he tried sneaking into the girl’s bathroom with Matt. Their wigs and fake boobs had taken Pax a full ten minutes to assure they weren’t lopsided.

         “You little snitch,” Axel snapped.

         Pax gave him an innocent grin. “That’s literally my job.”

         Alabaster sighed. “Get out.”

         “You told me to carry in boxes,” Pax complained, setting his atop another with a huff. This box was, in fact, full of various bird feathers and did not warrant a huff, but he relied on Alabaster and Axel not to check the label.

         “Yes. To carry boxes in. Not to eavesdrop. Take a camou blanket and go find Sphinx.” Alabaster pointed to the door.

         Sphinx was Lou Ellen’s Mist cat, one that (Pax was disappointed to discover) could not sprout wings or a tiny human head. Alabaster often pretended Sphinx had escaped to give Lou Ellen and Pax busywork. Pax loved it. They could pretend they were hunting through the savannah. Shoddily-made safari hats included.

         Today, Alabaster gave him a meaningful look. After Axel’s last match, Alabaster had agreed to talk to Axel about the nightmares. If nothing else than to get Pax to shut up for thirty minutes. Pax agreed to fifteen and they had themselves a deal.

         Pax knew the real solution was to end Axel’s arena fights. Killing legionnaires for sport in front of a live audience? Good for super villains. Not good for secretly-squishy older brothers.

         Axel always had nightmares, but he could hardly get through a few hours of sleep without waking up screaming. The nights that he carved a new scar into his cheeks—one for each person he killed—were the worst. “They deserve to be remembered,” he had explained. His morbid collection of trinkets from the dead had grown too large for their room (and too much like a “ZOMBIE VENGENCE HERE” sign for the inevitable apcocolype). Scarification was Axel’s new method.

         Apparently, Luke wasn’t about letting Axel stop his fights; Jack said the ratings were too good.

         As such, Pax hoped Alabaster could magic the nightmares away. That seemed like a healthy way to repress trauma, right?

         “Ajax,” Alabaster said in his Don’t Make Me Remove Your Mouth voice.

         Pax scrambled to a box with some of his, Jack’s, and Axel’s band equipment. Prometheus—likely in attempt to gain Alabaster’s eternal hatred—had suggested the boys do band practice in the laboratory while it was being set up. The lab was out in the middle of nowhere and non-disruptive for anyone but Alabaster (a hermit who loved silence). Luke thought this was a grand idea.

         Pax’s fingertips found the cold, stretchy fabric of the camou blanket. They hadn’t figured out what to use it for, but Jack was sure some inspiration would hit while they were practicing.

         In the meantime, Pax tossed the blanket over his shoulders and slunk out the door.

         There were only a few rooms in the building. Boxes littered the front atrium and back entrance. His fingers twitched to think of all the magical ingredients mishmashed in the cylinders resting on walls and various, mysterious jugs. Supposedly, Alabaster had labeled everything. Unfortunately, Matthias was in charge of dropping off their stuff from the Princess Andromeda and had taken the courtesy to do artistic renderings over each label. To put it kindly, Matt was a genius of ideas, but would starve as an artist.

Alabaster’s new laboratory was a pioneer project—the first land-based operation center, functioning almost independent of the soon-to-be self-built Mount Othrys. Pax had ignored most of the politics involved in asking Kronos for the separate space (an area Alabaster, Lou Ellen, and Lamia didn’t need to worry about blowing up the Princess Andromeda while experimenting with magic of mass destruction). All Pax cared about was why they weren’t wearing pioneer hats if this was a pioneer project. He had even offered to reenact dying from cholera a la Oregon Trail, though no one paid him much mind.

         This was super top secret. No one knew where it was. Not even Axel and Pax knew where they were going until that morning. Pax wondered what Matt knew about it and how Alabaster had managed to commandeer Axel and Pax during would-be band time. From what Pax had heard, Jack was conspiring to visit as a surprise (which meant he, and by extension, Flynn knew the location). If anyone could puppy-dog-eye information out of people, it was Jack. Pax aspired for such unassuming, devious cuteness.

         Pax crept over a Styrofoam box he could only assume contained dry ice and perishable ingredients where Matt had sloppily etched a Yeti. Or those spiky bits could be a crown of thorns for a stick-figure Jesus. Pax would have to talk to Matthias about blasphemy later.

         At the front, there were pillars on either side of the entrance, and a low wall between the two of them, forcing anyone advancing to pick one side or the other to enter. Alabaster explained this was in honor of Hecate and there were—in fact—three different paths to take. This led Pax and Axel to energetically vault over the low wall. It warmed Pax’s heart. Alabaster pretended he didn’t care about them, but, for whom else would he personally design an obstacle course?

         A tail flicked on the other side of the wall.

         Pax crawled up against it.

         The front had a concrete patio with no walkway, just long grass, scattered trees, and rolling hills. Soon, the children of Hecate would make runes around the place to ward off attention. They had already put some in place to make it so no one could stumble upon it unless they knew to look for the laboratory. Pax called it paranoid. Alabaster called it preparedness.

         The stone wall felt cold against Pax’s back as he flattened himself, keeping the blanket wrapped around him. This gave him a good view through the doorway—in case he could spot Axel or Alabaster for more eavesdropping—and a narrow view outside.

         There, curling around the end of the low wall, was Sphinx. Her black hair bristled. Pax assumed she had see him and was lazily coming his way for pets.

         However, her head wasn’t turned towards him. Her ears were alert, gaze surveying the tall grass.

         Pax opened his mouth to chirp at her.

         Something thudded into Sphinx’s neck, pinning her to the building. It happened so fast, Pax didn’t register that Sphinx was dead.

         He was accustomed to seeing violence against humans in his favorite gore movies, his father’s “entertainment nights,” and the few cage fights he’d seen Axel do. He was used to it against mythological creatures.

Seeing the thing protrude from her scruffy fur made Pax cover a scream.

         An arrow. It had been an arrow.

         “Bryce, what the fuck!?” someone hissed, only a few yards away. “It was a cat! You could have given away our position.”

         Pax froze, keeping his hands clamped over his mouth. Had he made a clapping sound when he covered his lips?

         “A witch’s familiar, Centurion. It might have alerted the leader of Hecate to our presence. It wasn’t a real cat.”

Not a real cat. Pax thought about the times Sphinx had chased him around the ship’s laboratory when he was various rodents, the times she’d snuck into the Pax brother’s room to curl up on Axel’s chest as a space heater, the way Lou Ellen giggled with glee to see her “baby girl” lose all her grace and elegance to the superiority of a laser pointer.

Her Mist body crumbled and collapsed, leaving the arrow pinned into the wall.

         Tear burned the rims of his eyes. The urge to sob reminded Pax that he hadn’t been breathing. He couldn’t tell if the world was spinning from a lack of air or from panic. A warning slithered in the back of his head, if you breathe, they’ll know you’re here.

         The camue blanket had fallen to his shoulders when he grabbed his mouth. Hands trembling, he clutched the edges.

This voice drifted from the other side of the low wall.

         They’re surrounding the building. Pax swallowed. Centurion. Romans.

         “You’re fucked up, Bryce,” a third mumbled. “We weren’t supposed to move until Cahoon cut the power.”

         If they cut the power, all the phone lines would go down. Unlike other demigods, Kronos’ men didn’t fear drawing monsters with technology; they welcomed new recruits. But, Iris wasn’t exactly cool with delivering messages for the opposing side. If they lost the power lines, they might not be able to get word out.

         Pax’s breath went from nonexistent to ragged.

         Alabaster had wanted privacy and quiet to set up his lab. Matthias was only supposed to do one drop off that morning. They didn’t know when Jack would show up.

         They were alone.

         “I can’t wait to mount a lion’s head on my wall,” the second guy, Bryce, muttered. His voice had a bouncy energy to it. Pax had heard of pre-battle jitters. These sounded too light.

         A Lion’s Head. Pax choked on a whine. They’re talking about Axel.

         “The lion’s head is mine,” a feminine voice stated softly.

         “Alright, Ari. Sheesh, we get it. You’re mad that that cannibal ate Julian after he killed him.”

         A tiny, detached part of Pax wanted to squeal a protest. Julian? Praetor Julian? The first person Axel had killed. He hadn’t eaten him—Axel fought to get Julian a proper funeral so he would remain uneaten.

         Everything felt like it was tunneling to the arrow on the wall. How much time had he wasted cowering here? His brain fumbled. This was it. This was his job. He was the recon guy. That’s what Mercedes had been—

         What would Mercedes do?

         Pax fumbled to his belt, to the mirror she had specially made for him. It was reflective, but the surface was dulled to minimize glare. He forced himself to take two regularish breaths, to not picture Axel’s head on a wall.

         “Damn it, Bryce. How did you get put on this mission? Just remember we’re not supposed to kill the younger kid with the two colored eyes. You heard command. He’s their spymaster’s assistant and a whole wealth of information.”

         They know a lot. They know too much.

         With as little noise as he could manage, Pax shifted the camue blanket up his arm, so he could hold the mirror with a covered hand. He leaned against the edge of the wall, tilting the mirror to see into the fields.

         Memo to self: request magical one-way camue blanket that he could see-through but others can’t.

         “He needs to be able to talk. Doesn’t mean he needs to be able to walk.”

         “I reiterate: you’re fucked up, Bryce.”

         “Quiet,” the feminine voice, the centurion, growled.

         There they were: not people, but ominous divots in the grass. They might have been wearing camue blankets too, though Pax doubted it. These weren’t professionals. Pax could tell from the loud chatter. He wondered if they’d been gathered in a hurry and hadn’t been able to vet out people like the cat-killer, Bryce.

         About thirty feet away, beyond the long grass, two people stood by the power line in construction workers outfits. From what Pax could see, something glinted under the bright orange reflectors: armor. The perfect, quick cover. Alabaster even said they’d been struggling with power and relying on backup generators. Would the Romans know to cut the backup generators?

         One thing was certain: there was no referee to yell at the Romans for bringing too many players onto the field. If Pax had to guess, the back door and windows would be covered too. He shivered to remember Mercedes’ fingers glide across his shoulder. Pax Two, I will give you a piece of candy if you can tell me how many doors and windows we passed in this building.

         He wished she were here, barking orders about the obvious things he had missed. But, then she’d be in danger too.

         If Pax made it out of this alive, he vowed to write a Hey Mr. ADHD song that promoted concentration and calm. There was a back exit, a front exit, and several windows in every room except the very center of the building, where Axel and Alabaster were unaware of their plight. Pax puffed up his cheeks, barely catching himself before he popped them. He didn’t know if there were any secret exits. That would be prime information.

         As he crept back through the atrium, he tilted his mirror out the window. Maybe thirty feet away, he caught sight of movement: snipers. The Romans had scouted the building. They would be watching every exit, and likely had attack forces at each entrance.

         Panic later. Move now.

         The Romans were far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to hear missteps past the atrium, but Pax focused on the memory of Mercedes’ bells strung at his neck, shoulders, elbows, wrists, hips, knees, and feet. If one of the imaginary bells rang, the Romans might know. They might come in here, skewer Axel, shoot Alabaster in the head with an arrow, and drag Pax off, kicking and screaming.

         By the time he reached the central lab, sweat trickled off his face, threatening to make a plopping sound onto the floor. Axel and Alabaster’s voices echoed amongst the boxes. Although they spoke at a normal level, each word made Pax’s ears ring like a cannon.

         He couldn’t decipher what they said. The boxes, tubes, and wayward lab and band equipment blurred as he stepped up to Axel, his feet knowing where to go while his mind was numb with fear.

         His hand was on his brother’s arm. Axel and Alabaster froze, mid-talk, staring at Pax in worry. There must have been something wrong with his face.

         “There is a Roman hitsquad outside. I counted five in the front. There are likely five in the back and there are snipers at every window. They want to kill Axel and take me alive for interrogation. Unsure on their intentions with Witch Boy.”

         Once the words were out, it became real. It wasn’t his turn to keep it together. It was Axel’s, the planner.

         Which was good, because Pax felt himself tremble with panic.

  Thank you for reading! Stay tuned next week to see how well three teenage idiots panic over being surrounded. I hope you guys are staying safe and healthy!

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XVI

Who We Are

Trigger Warnings: Canon violence/language/drug, alcohol and gun use. Suggestive content.

Bloody Mess Warning!

Game spoilers!

Please enjoy!

 “Attention Tenpines, this is General Wraith. Captain Danse’s patrol is to hold position there. I repeat; the long patrol from Sanctuary is to remain in Tenpines until further notice! Do you read?!”

“Transmission received; however the patrol has left. Do you copy? General?”

Wraith stood frozen as her field of vision narrowed to single point to the east. The radio operator’s urgent questions growing dim then silent as the rushing, roaring reverberations of fear and rage filled her ears.

“General?”

 Infamy was frustrated.

The plan had been to take out the largest of the two adults then set the herd on the other while Atom’s Assassin made short work of the child. A swift and easy kill, it would allow them to move on to MacCready and minimalize the loss of the ferals.

Infamy was misinformed.

Expertly trained, Shaun was far and away from an easy kill. Ignoring the cut on his hand, his priority was helping MacCready. But before he could, Shaun decided that the glowing one, leering and taunting before him, needed to be dealt with first.

Rad-X… need Rad-X…

Normally while facing an opponent, Infamy could tune into visual cues that would allow them to predict when and where the next attack would come. But there was something different about this child; his whole presence suddenly changed to what could only be described as absolute stillness.

Infamy was intrigued.

The ghoul charged him as soon as Shaun reached for the chem pocket on his bandolier. Allowing the glowing one to close the distance he deflected their blade and twisted away trying to trip them as they passed. Just as the weapons came together, his opponent sent a small burst of radiation down their arm, directly into his face.

When the child dropped to the ground, his Pip-boy Geiger counter ticking wildly, Infamy had a passing notion that this might be a short fight after all. Triumph turned to dismay as Shaun slashed their ankle in an attempt to sever their Achilles tendon. Rolling a few feet away then vaulting back to his feet, the youth turned back to Infamy, his face expressionless.  

“Back where we started? Is that what you think? Won round two?! Oh very good, little boy. But, mine will heal in a blink… your irradiated wound will take much, much longer though. Hmm? Yes, that’s right; poison, poison, poison. Hehe.”

A sudden, agonized scream from the cliffside indicated Dogmeat had found Danse’s shooter and the ferals were beginning to dwindling as MacCready overcame them.

Infamy was in trouble.

In the space of a blink Shaun flicked his wrist and a small throwing knife flew toward the ghoul. Using the distraction he dashed to his fallen rifle. Rather than stoop to retrieve it, he hooked the strap with his boot and spun it up his body while simultaneously sheathing his bayonet; turning and firing twice into Infamy’s central mass as soon as the weapon was in his hands.

Answering an unspoken call, the few remaining ferals disengaged from MacCready and sprinted to the assassin.  The glowing one, who had been hunched over the wounds on their torso, suddenly lifted their head and threw back their shoulders, casting out an enormous blast of radiation. Pushed to the ground, Shaun was unable to fire again and the collective escaped into the brush. Staggering to his feet, he prepared to pursue, but MacCready’s call stopped him.

“Shaun! RadAway, NOW!”

His vision blurred, he fumbled with the snaps, “I… don’t… are you…”

MacCready screaming his name was the last thing he heard before the dirt rushed up to meet him and the world turned to black.    

  He couldn’t see.

Pain. So, so much pain. Breathing hurts… where? What happened to me? What was I doing?

He couldn’t feel his leg.

Is it gone?! No… it’s underneath… I can feel blood… Why CAN’T I SEE?!

All he could hear was ringing.

If I call, will anyone hear me? I think… need… a medic. I… I need…

“Elder Maxson… Arthur? Haylen! Rhys! Are you there?!”

Where is my armor?! Am I still on the Prydwen? Did… did she fall?!

“Can anyone hear me?! I… I need help… please…”

  “Open your eyes for me, kiddo.”

MacCready’s voice seemed far away.

“Please, buddy.”

“RJ… you’re squeezing my hand too tight.”

Shaun could feel strong arms gently embrace him and then soft shaking as MacCready’s fear was broadcast through his touch.

“You scared me half to death, kid.”

“Danse!” Lurching to his feet, Shaun lost his balance and had to rest against MacCready, “Ugh, it’s so dark. How long was I out? We have to go look for him!”

“You took a pretty heavy, direct hit. You’ve been out for almost an hour.” Holding him at arm’s length, MacCready’s brow was furrowed; he knew Shaun wouldn’t like what he was about to say, “I’m taking you back to Tenpines…”

“NO!” Wrenching himself free, he pointed accusingly, “I know you don’t like him, but he’s our friend! We can’t just leave him! He needs our help! He may still be alive…”

“Or he’s not.” Shaun’s shocked and angry expression made MacCready hate himself, “I never said I was going to abandon anybody. Dogmeat will stay. You are still sick. You need help. Right now you’re alive and right in front of me. You are the priority.” He lifted his chin, “The faster we get to Tenpines the faster I’m back out here, with a Minutemen medic, looking for our friend.”

Finally noticing the pain and fatigue in MacCready’s voice, Shaun switched on his Pip-boy lamp and took a closer look at him, “OH MY GOD… YOUR EAR!”

“Ow! I can still hear out of it, ya know.”

Wraith had modded a new duster for MacCready and so in spite of being chewed and clawed at by a baker’s dozen of feral ghouls, none of his injuries were life threatening. His face had suffered some minor bruises and scratches but the thing that was really pissing him off was his ear.

“Don’t tell me how much is left… fu… frickin’ monster bit me…” Turning away from the light he set a brisk pace north, “And no, I don’t want a stimpak or gauze or… it’s fine, just let it bleed.”

Wordlessly, Shaun put the rejected aid back in his pockets and followed.

He’s… he’s such a badass!

   Wraith, Hancock and Curie were sprinting to Tenpines. Flanked by the Gáe Bulg Hounds (including Strong), all three were wearing Heavy Dragoon armor, packed to the gorget with as much heavy-duty ordinance and medical equipment as possible. Having little to no information on the size and firepower of Infamy’s force, Wraith was leaving nothing to chance. This wasn’t a time for stealth.

The Calvary was on their way.

  “MacCready, I want to find him as much as you do, but I don’t think climbing down a cliff in the dark is… safe.”

“I didn’t ask for your stupid opinion, Jesse. I told you to come over here and hold a flashlight!”

After leaving Shaun in the care of the Tenpines settlers, MacCready, the settlement’s head medic Varsha and two Minutemen ran back to Dogmeat. They found the canine sitting on the cliff’s edge, whining while looking down to where Danse had fallen.

“It’s fine, Jesse. Just do as he says.” Varsha tied a rope to a nearby tree stump, “Louie, I want the rest of the lines and the block and tackle secured from those trunks over there and we should weight test them before we climb down. Captain Danse is a large man and one way or another he’s coming back up the cliff with us. We’ll use the walkie once he’s secure.”

 MacCready froze when they reached him.

“Oh… I’m very sorry MacCready… I know you were friends.”

It didn’t seem real.

“I’d understand if you don’t want to help me, but if you wouldn’t mind keeping your flashlight on…”

“He’s not dead.”

“MacCready… he… look at him…”

“He. Is. Alive.”

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Danse’s chest rose and fell as he breathed.

“Well, holy shit!”

  Curie practically flew around Tenpines’ small clinic. Setting up for surgery without the benefit of triage was frustrating her. After sanitizing her hands and the various medical equipment, for perhaps the eleventh time, she felt the tears start.

“Sacrebleu, I had best get this out of my system…”

Wraith had gone outside and was stomping around the settlement in her power armor; her laps an attempt to calm the roaring in her ears.

“Wraith… sure as yer goin’ to wear out yer core…”

“I know, Cait. I know, but the sound is very satisfying… Shaun’s lucky I haven’t been carrying him around with me…”

“Ye knowin’ that’d embarrass the shite out of him?”

“GrrrrraARRRRRAH! How could I be so stupid?!” Deciding that it was too late at night and she was being too loud, she exited the armor and waved to Strong, “This isn’t working! Come on Strong; let’s go punch some trees down.”

“ALPHA HAS THE BEST PLAN!”

  “Stop it! You stupid… How are you even awake?! Quit fighting me, man!”

Danse was partially conscious and was hindering all attempts to secure him to the backboard. As severe as his injuries were, he was still strong enough that MacCready and the medic were worried that strong-arming him might cause further damage.

“Who’s there? Where is Scribe Haylen? I have to return… Cutler… I’ll never forgive you!”

“Danse, it’s MacCready!” Wincing sympathetically, he used a boot to hold down an arm so he could secure a strap, “Snap out of it!”

Varsha frowned at his tactics, “Easy! He’s concussed and delirious…”

“I could see his stupid SKULL; I KNOW HE’S…”

“For fuck’s sake, stop yelling! Though I doubt he can hear you… or see you…”

Hardly daring to believe it, MacCready passed his flashlight back and forth in front of Danse’s eyes. There was no discernable reaction. Staring hard at the blood stain, which grew ever larger, on the bandages wrapped around the large man’s head, his voice was a soft whisper, “Is Curie going to be able to patch a hole that big?”

Varsha took it to be a rhetorical question. Stepping back, she shown her light back up the cliff face, “We are going to need to somehow guide him up… he can’t afford any more bruises.”

“Of course I know about Elder Lyons! Get out of my face… I can’t stand the way they look at me! Why do they make me sad?!” Danse’s eyes filled with tears and he gasped as they spilled down his cheeks, “I had to kill you! Don’t you understand?! You were my brother!”

MacCready didn’t know how Danse was suffering, but he could see that it was more than physically. Shocked to feel tears of his own, he cleared his throat, “We… You should ride up with him and I’ll help pull. Keep the walkie on and you can yell at us if we’re too fast.”

Varsha shook her head, “Now that I’m looking… Grinding over the rocks… I don’t know if the ropes will hold.”

“MacCready, you there?”

“That sounded like Hancock…” Simply hearing the ghoul’s voice, crackling through the walkie-talkie, sent a wave of relief through him, “So the Calvary has arrived, huh?”

“That’s no joke! Look, I should be able to hold the pulley out away from the cliff. I’ll be a crane so we can haul up the Cap’n plus one. Case one of ya wants to guide him over bumps.”

“I’m not sure taking that much Buffout is wise, Mr. Mayor.”

“…I’m in power armor, kids. Let’s hurry it up! Chafes somethin’ terrible…”

When MacCready reached the group he couldn’t help the semi-hysterical laugh that tumbled from him, “What are you wearing?!”

Bright Nuka-Cola red with the words “Justice and Liberty for All” emblazed in gold above the Dragoon’s standard, Hancock’s power armor was a sight to behold.

“What, ya don’t like it?” Sweeping his arms out wide, he somehow managed an elegant turn, “Danse modded it just for me. Though, I don’t use it much ‘cause the… cockpit don’t cut it, ya feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

   The sun had made its way well into the sky before Curie and her medical team emerged from surgery. Weary and bloodstained, the doctor sank into a chair. With the Tenpines clinic being as small as it was Danse’s worried friends were taking turns waiting in the anteroom. Hancock was on duty and he rose from his own chair to offer her a container of water.

“So, how’s our boy doin’?”

“He is still critical. If I could, I would have him in an ICU. He will need additional blood… I was able to save his leg but mon ours will need knee-replacement surgery, much like madame and her shoulder. He has multiple broken ribs and…” Trailing off, she had brought a hand to her forehead but now held it away from her, staring at the bloodstains in horror, “These conditions are unacceptable! I need the equipment in my own surgery and I needed to have had the modified memory lounger online… The pressures on his optic nerves might abate…” Standing now, she stared at her palms while tears streamed down her face, “I cannot save him here! I cannot move him from here! I must save MON AMOUR!”

Hancock embraced her, “Stop, Baby Bird! He’s strong and so are you!” He held her tightly for a moment before easing her back to her seat. When he spoke his tone had dramatically changed from his normal gruff mean-street slang to something closer to a parent, “You are overdone right now and you need to shut your eyes and rest. Varsha has a chart on him, correct? She and I will monitor him. Wraith and Shaun will hold his hands. There are people here who love you both and will be here the whole time to help you.” He waited until she nodded, “Rest now, fight again later.”

  Despite the risks involved it was clear that Danse would have to be moved to Sanctuary. The settlement brahmin were sweet and docile but neither were trained wear a harness, let alone to pull a cart. And while Wraith was certain she was strong enough to carry him, his bulk would be awkward for her to hold over the distance. While Wraith redressed MacCready’s ear wound, Shaun brainstormed with her on something that the more adaptable mutant hounds could pull.

“Their saddles don’t have the right… parts.” Shaun was hung-up on the idea that it had to be a wheeled vehicle, “He needs to ride as level and steady as possible.”

“OW! Wraith, I’m begging you, please stop!”

“Mac, if you’d stop pulling away from me… What about the power armor? Maybe…”

“STRONG WILL CARRY METAL MAN!”

Surprisingly, they hadn’t noticed the super mutants approach and so there was a collective flinch. Struck dumb, the group stared at him wordlessly.

“HUMANS BROKEN?!”

“Sorry Strong, ol’ buddy, just didn’t expect you to volunteer.”

“Don’t like it here. NO FIGHT! STRONG TAKE METAL MAN, THEN STRONG CAN GO BACK TO ROCKET AND WORK WITH BEAR-GHOUL.” He nodded to himself as if it was a unanimous decision.

“It might be too bumpy a ride, Strong.”

“ALPHA TRUST STRONG.” He drew his hand through the air in a steady line, “Strong smooth.”

“I think I might have lived my whole life just to hear that.”

“Mac…”

  Strong indeed had the capacity for smoothness and the journey back to Sanctuary was nerve-wracking but ultimately uneventful. Wraith had sent a plea for assistance to Dr. Amari over Radio Freedom even before the group had left. And after returning, she arranged for the doctor’s escort, set about establishing contact with all emergency Minutemen patrols and went through a settlement radio check-in.  

Islode was sympathetic, but had no more insight that was particularly helpful, “General, I have told you all that I know. Please allow me to return to my people.”

“I can only assume that she or they are watching the roads.” Wraith was grim, “Watching and waiting. You step one foot outside Sanctuary and you’re toast.”

“I have to believe she wouldn’t kill me. My own daughter…”

“So she has been acting in a manner that is completely normal for her then?” Dropping the diplomatic and formal tone, Wraith was sarcastic, “Totally sane and not fanatical or psychotic at all. Right. She’s predictable based off of past behavior.”

“You have every right to your wrath and your mistrust, but what is the point of keeping me here? If she were to kill me, then what would be the determent to you?”

“What… Islode, I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I am not a conqueror!” Rising from her office chair, she swept an arm through the air, “This is not my throne room. This is my office in my home. The Children are my neighbors. I am trying to cultivate a peaceful relationship with them and you are key to that process.”

“Holding me prisoner isn’t very peaceful.”

Arms falling to her side, she lowered herself slowly back to her seat, her green eyes twin lasers aimed directly at Islode’s, “Nor were the attacks on Kingsport Lighthouse.” Leaning back, she allowed her gaze to soften, “I don’t want you to die Mother Islode. I care about you as a person. You may leave any time that you wish, but you will have an armed escort.”

“I fear then that after you, Infamy will be set upon me and all potential for peace will have been shattered regardless.”

“Then I won’t let them get past me.”

  All of her busy work was meant to take Wraith’s mind off the fact that in addition to the constant threat of attack; Danse had not woken up since Curie had administered the pre-op anesthetic.

“With Sturges’s assistance, I should have the lounger modified and we will get some nice images of Captain Danse’s brain soon.” Amari smiled and patted Curie’s shoulder, “His vitals are remarkably good, considering all he’s been through! He is breathing on his own and appears to have maintained limb sensitivity… You and he have both done very well, Dr. Curie.”

“Merci beaucoup, Dr. Amari. I…” Swallowing back tears, she lifted her chin, “We will not give up. We will fight.”

“If there is anything else you need Baby Bird…”

Sagging into her office chair, Curie placed a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes, “I feel that I am tied into knots! There are items that I was going to request of you before… They would have been useful now, but I cannot ask you to…”

“Ask! Please! I can’t help Danse directly like you can and I’m going bonkers; I’ve already re-organized my re-organizing and also double-checked my already-organized task lists and check lists!”

Laughing, Curie shook her head, “There is a difference between task lists and check lists?”

“I have to check-off my tasks, don’t I?”

Rising from her chair, she held her arms out for a hug, “Oh Madame, thank you for that.”

Wraith gently patted her back, “I’m glad I could make you laugh. In all seriousness though, what can I get for you?”    

“I need a GC/MS, LC/MS/MS, HPLC a FID or even a GCD.”

“That’s… a lot of letters…”

“I have Institute technologies and a Biometric scanner that aid me in many, many things but data for therapeutic reference ranges… The research I am doing on new medications would be greatly enhanced by these machines.” She held out her hand, asking for Wraith’s Pip-boy, “I can give you a list and mark possible locations on your map.”

“Couldn’t I just, pick them up from your old lab?”

“Most of the remaining data and equipment in Dr. Collins’s lab has been scrapped by Vault Eighty-one’s residents. I had some of my students look into it a little while ago and I had hoped to have assistance from Dr. Cabot and Doctor… Virgil…”

“I should’ve helped you with that…”

“Madame has not spent all her time and efforts training us, either directly or securing teachers for us, to still do everything for us.” Realizing the irony of her words even as she handed Wraith back the Pip-boy, she frowned and sat motionless for a second, “Oh…”

“No take backs, Curie”

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t beat them, grandma!”

Wraith was having Shaun help her get gear together to give him another opportunity to vent. She felt bad that she was leaving and wanted to give him as much one-on-one time as possible before she did.

“There is nothing to be sorry about! I know that you’re frustrated but please believe me when I say that you did a… awesome job fighting them off.” She grabbed his arms and gave him a gentle shake, “MacCready says that you were incredible!”

“Yeah, well, not incredible and awesome enough to help Captain Danse… or you.” He stuck his lip out, “I want to contribute! I want… to be a valuable team member.”

“Oh, honey.” She wrapped her arms around him, “Of course you helped us! You were able to fight off a assassin which gave Mac time to get free of the ferals. If… WHEN, we save Danse it’ll be because you fought for us.”

Burying his face into her embrace, his sullen reply was muffled, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not. You should be proud at how… multifaceted you are. You are a competent fighter as well as an engineer. You contribute! Just… hold off on being a warrior for a little while yet. At least until you’re taller than me.”

 MacCready elected to stay in Sanctuary, explaining, rather unnecessarily, that he wanted to watch over his son. Although, Wraith had a suspicion that, due to how much time he spent walking past the clinic, he was also harboring feelings of guilt over Danse’s condition.

“Turrets, Minutemen, the Hounds, Dogmeat, Panther and Lloyd are fine and all, but there’s nothin’ quite as good as me.”

“And so modest too…”

“Hey man, I’m just stating the obvious.” A brief flash of doubt crossed his face and he hurried to cover it by turning from Hancock and kissing Wraith goodbye, “Where exactly are you two going anyway?”

The ghoul noticed his consternation, “No worries, MacCready. We are going to pop over to Med-Tek, maybe Medford Memorial and be back before you have to trim yer goatee!”

He favored him with a dramatic eye-roll before giving him a kiss as well, “Who’s worried? It’s not like every time she’s out of my sights, disaster falls.”

“Hey now! I’m not… that’s not… accurate…” Hands on her hips, she stuck her tongue out at him, “I don’t always get hurt!”

“I didn’t say the disasters befall you.”

“’Befall’, huh? Fancy.”

“I thought you’d appreciate.”

She extended her middle finger behind her as she turned away, “Love you.”

   Med-Tek was a surprising bust. Most of the equipment had been smashed either by the ferals or the slowly decomposing building. And although they were able to acquire some hardware components with the idea that Curie may be able to build the devices herself, there were no whole, undamaged machines.

“I really thought that we’d find everything here.” Failing to mask her frustration she kicked at a block of fallen debris, “I was itching to be out doing something, but now I’m anxious being away.”

“I know what you mean… not exactly a fun adventure this time.”

Wraith was elbow deep in the ruins of a machine a few moments later but turned her head to look at Hancock when she heard odd crunching and smacking sounds, “Are you feeding them?!”

“Yeah, they keep looking at me like their beggin’.”

“What are you feeding them?”

“Just some Crisps…”

As they had fought their way through the facility, as would sometimes happen near Wraith, three of the feral ghouls had come to their aid and subsequently followed them through the building to the research lab. Hancock had dubbed the trio Larry, Moe and Curly. Wraith shook her head as he tossed them another handful. He reminded her of an old man, sitting on a park bench feeding pigeons.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” She came to flop into a chair next to him, suddenly sad and tired, “You have to make sure everyone gets fed.”

“I gotta be me… I can’t be right for somebody else, if I’m not right for me, I gotta be free, I’ve gotta be free.”

After turning himself into a ghoul, Hancock’s voice had changed and it troubled him deeply. For a time his singing hobby was shelved and it wasn’t until he began traveling with Wraith that he felt the compulsion again. She admitted that she had no frame of reference but assured him that despite its growling edge, his voice was remarkably compelling. On those rare occasions that he did sing now, his newfound joy was in her enjoyment.

“Heh, look. The Stooges like my howling too.”

All three of the ferals had stopped shoveling Crisps into their faces and were sitting at rapt attention.

“Maybe we’ll start a band…”

Wraith chuckled, kissed his cheek and went back to looking for parts, “Medford has extensive labs that were surprisingly intact the last time I was there but they have something I really don’t want to deal with.”

“Mutants… I thought you cleared ‘em out for Garvey.”

“I have. Twice.” She casually flipped over a filing cabinet, “Last reports have a new batch that have set-up there.” She twirled her wrist, “Just how Mac and I cleared all the ferals here, yet here we are lighter in ammo and heavy in gore.”

“And richer in friends.”

“Oh, noooo. I’m sorry but those three will have to stay here.” She was surprised that Hancock actually looked sad, “It’ll be safer… for them.”

“Have you given any more thought to this Mother’s Favored One bit?”

“Any more thought?” Her tone was harsh, “How about none?”

“None thought, huh?” He gestured to the ferals, “You appear to have more clout with my cousins than most.”

“As you said, I gotta be me. And that ain’t me.”

“How about that… you being… being my wife bit?” His voice was soft and fearful.

Abandoning the rubble, Wraith moved to Hancock and bent at the waist with her hands on her knees so she could look directly into his eyes, “Did you just purpose to me?”

“I… dunno… I’ve… I can’t get free of what mom Atom said.” The normally brash and brazen ghoul was humble, “Would you? I mean, I understand if you don’t wanna put labels on it.” His laugh was forced, “Heh, I know you and MacCready‘ve been married before so…”

“All I know is that I love you both dearly. We should talk to Mac, but I honestly don’t think he’d object. If you want to get married then… let’s do it!”

The joy on Hancock’s face made Wraith’s heart hurt. Both teared up as he stood and swept her into his arms. He twirled her around before the two settled into a deeply passionate kiss. They soon broke it off when they noticed the ghoul trio had shuffled closer. It was almost as if the ferals thought they might have to intervene on Wraith’s behalf.  

“Can we have a big party? Like Nicky?”

“Sure, Hancock. Big party.”

“Invite everybody?”

“Sure; everyone we know.”

“So… the Stooges…”

“No, Hancock.”

   “… send them some aid?”

Deacon wasn’t listening. Recently, a synth had passed through Underworld who looked so much like Wraith that it had twisted his insides and fogged his mind. Even now, during an important meeting, as soon as her name came up, his mind went someplace else. Back to when he first realized he was in trouble. Back when his greatest lie was that he hadn’t fallen in love with her.

They had stopped in an abandoned house between Railroad missions and Wraith was making them dinner. She had her Pip-Boy tuned to Diamond City Radio and was humming along; off-key of course. She had removed her heavy armor pieces and was in long john pants and a t-shirt. He had gently ribbed her on the quality of her performance, but instead of getting mad she had smiled at him and began dancing and singing to the ladle as if it were a microphone.

He was utterly entranced.

I don’t want us to just be… this. I want to dance with her. I want to… I want to make love to her and hold her in my arms after.

“Harley!” Nyx made a grab for his sunglasses, “Are you asleep? Please fucking pay attention!”

“Sorry, Boss.” Evading her swipe, he leaned back in his office chair and brought his arms up behind his head in a big, fake stretch, “I’m really tired. Fawkes and me have been practicing our synchronized swimming routine… huge competition coming up…”

Nyx’s mouth twisted in an attempt to hide a smile triggered by the ridiculous image her brain concocted, “Not funny. What’s the last thing you heard?”

“Uh…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, “Oh my fucking… To recap; we have reports that Infamy has been hired to attack Minutemen settlements. So far there has been minimal damage, however…”

“The General can take care of it…”

“However…” Nyx’s voice softened, “We have it on good authority, that Danse has been killed.”

Deacon’s insides went cold.

“With Wraith involved, there is a chance that agent Governor and the Commonwealth branch may come under threat as well. So I’ll ask again; should we send our expert on Infamy? Should we send them aid?”

“We have a Infamy expert?”

  The four super mutants milling around in front of Medford Memorial looked particularly nasty.

“I’m less then excited to engage…”

“Your report say anything that might make this easier? I’m all for runnin’ in with guns ablaze, but we don’t know how many more there are and it’s like you said, we are lower on ammo than when we started this hike.”

“Just that their alpha… Hmm…”

“Whatcha got for me?”

Wraith took Hancock by the arms, kissed him fiercely and stared into his eyes, “Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely.”

To the ghoul’s utter shock Wraith popped up out of their hiding spot and marched confidently toward the enemy.

“I CHALLENGE GOREKNUCKLE FOR ALPHA!”

The reaction was shared by the mutants and they stood with mouths agape. Wraith was less than 20 feet from them when one finally managed to corral enough brain cells for a response.

“STUPID HUMAN! GONNA EAT YOU!”

“HA! WEAK MUTANT WORDS FROM… A WEAK… shit…uhhh… BLEEDER!”

To Hancock’s relief, the mutants seemed just as confused as he was and none were even reaching for their weapons. Jogging out after her, he decided he should play herald. “Not just any human; Wraith, General of the Minutemen, Wraith-the-Undying, Death-in-the-Shadow, The Fog Walker, Grinder of the Bucket Heads, Alpha of Strong, Slayer of Fist, Conqueror of Swan and Deathclaw’s Bane!”

Standing as tall as possible she set her hands on her hips and laughed maniacally, “BWAAAHAHAHAHAHA! Bring me to your alpha; if he isn’t too scared…”

Setting their brutish heads together, the group discussed whether or not it might be worth having an ear literally chewed off for granting the crazy human’s request. In the end, the general consensus was that they were bored, and this was… something. Even if they didn’t fully grasp what it was.

“STUPID HUMAN FOLLOW GUT BAG!”

 At first glance, outside of a slight yellow cast to his skin, Goreknuckle seemed much like any other super mutant. But his eyes held intelligence and his voice was relatively soft, “THIS IS STRANGE, HUMAN. IT’S NOT SMART TO COME HERE. BROTHERS SAY YOU CHALLENGE ME FOR ALPHA. THAT’S STUPID.”

“So, you don’t accept? Afraid I’d win?” Wraith folded her arms to hide her shaking hands, “I don’t blame you; I’m really scary.”

The alpha’s sudden, bombastic laughed surprised them all, “HA! YOU’RE FUNNY. OKAY, STUPID HUMAN. I WILL LET YOU CHALLENGE ME.” He gave her a sly smile, “WE ARM WRESTLE!”

“Perfect… except my forearm isn’t long enough. How about a thumb war instead?”

“Uhhh, Alpha Wraith? Quick word?”

Wraith let the ghoul lead her away from the group, “Problem?”

His eyes briefly narrowed as his head twitched sideways, “You seriously gonna wrestle a green skin?”

“Strong has never beaten me.”

Hancock’s dark eyes widened and then he flashed her a sultry smile, “I want you so bad right now.”

“Not in front of the mutants, dear.”

 The battle was to take place in the operating theater so that the entire pack could watch as their mighty alpha crushed a puny, stupid human in an epic… children’s game. Wraith suggested the venue to count the packs numbers. She was happy to see they only had 7 mutants counting Goreknuckle.

She could work with that.

The dramatic contrast of size as the combatants squared up was as comical as the contest itself. Sitting cross-legged on the surgical table, Wraith appeared calm and unconcerned as a seated Goreknuckle loomed over her.

Hancock and Gut Bag stood behind their respective alphas and made threating gestures at each other.

“Do you know the rules?”

“GOREKNUCKLE KNOWS.”

“Winner is alpha.”

“GOREKNUCKLE KNOWS!”

“Say it. Unless you’re too… yellow.”

“GRRRAHHHHHHAAAA! WINNER IS ALPHA OF GOREKNUCKLE PACK!”

“Oh! Hey, can you count? Cause we’re supposed to chant…”

“GOREKNUCKLE KNOWS!”

Wraith pinned him in a half second.

It was so shockingly anticlimactic that the entire room went completely silent.

As intelligent as he was, the alpha quickly degenerated into a wild beast and “broke the rules” by roaring in Wraith’s face and attempting to shake himself free. When he found he couldn’t move his arm he brought his other to bear, swinging it about in a ferocious punch. Jumping slightly, Wraith caught his forearm between her legs and rolled, twisting his limbs together painfully and locking them with her knees. Remembering that he could stand up, the alpha brought his arms and Wraith high into the air before smashing them onto the steel table.

Hancock flinched, “You okay?! That one looked like it stung…”

Wraith snarled in response before twisting herself free, ripping the alpha’s arms clean off as she did.

Goreknuckle was not unlike a lawn sprinkler as he spun away; a great spray of blood coating his fellow pack-mates who had the unfortunate luck of sitting in the splash zone.

Wraith roared at the mutants triumphantly, bringing the disembodied arms above her head and waving them around like pennants at a ball game, “GRRRAAHAAAAA! I am your ALPHA! You are the Pack of the Wraith now!”

It only took a second for the mutants’ eyes to shift from disbelief to murder.

An expert at reading an audience, Hancock tossed a grenade into the seats. After a couple of clean-up shots with his shotgun the room was secure. Wraith was still on the table when he circled back around; staring at Goreknuckle who remained standing even after death.

“He’s like a Venus de Milo…”  

Hancock laughed, “You okay?”

“I hurt my butt.”

“HA! It’s just like MacCready said; disaster! You want some Med-X?”

“Yes please.”

Hancock helped her down and passed her the chem, “What would you have done if they’d gone for it?”

“I’m sure I would have thought of something… they could have helped us today; Curie also needs nitrogen and helium tanks to run her alphabet machines.”

“Oh, I see how it is! It’s perfectly fine for you to bring six super mutants home, but I’m not even allowed three small feral ghouls!”

Wraith giggled, “Can you imagine… us coming back with… No, I knew it wasn’t going to work. I took me a long while to earn Strong’s respect. And he’s more receptive to new ideas than most mutants I’ve met.”

“So you saw seven super mutants and thought ‘I can take ‘em’?” Hancock wrapped his arms around her, gore and all, “And people call me a monster.”

“I gotta be me.”

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my Wraith in the Ruins tag for the story link-tree. If you have any questions/comments/concerns please feel free to send me an ask. Anon too. More to come =^..^=

[cygnahime]

FFX Reliveblogging Part...4?

I'm grinding in the Omega Ruins in my other save, and mildly frustrated because Tidus has the highest strength in the party but......chocobo racing sucks, so he's capped at 9999 damage. Meanwhile Auron in yellow HP is doing 50k and hit 99,999 with a crit. Just the once, but it got me that trophy. I'm pretty sure Auronlu has already talked a lot about the Luca/Bevelle Crusaders/Warrior Monks conflict taking place in the background of the game. It first really comes up in Maechen's little discourse about the history of Lord Mi'ihen. Notable is that the Crusaders, originally founded as the Crimson Blades, were not originally part of the Yevonite power structure, but were subsumed presumably as an alternative to holy war. (Which is kind of hilarious, considering the our-world history of "Crusaders".) Ahhhh it's my favorite lesbians! And Clasko. I could say a lot of unkind things about the Battle Thongs, but the narrative at least never treats Lucil (and Elma) with less than total respect. Which I guess just shows how...gratuitous the clothing is. It's completely inconsistent with the characters. Bad design. Speaking of outfits, I looooove Belgemine's dress. It's so elegant! I'm pretty fond of her as a person, as well. And not just because she heals our aeons for us. She is a lady. I mean, also an undead, but it's rude to comment on these things. I usually lose this first aeon duel, but I'll give it my all anyway. Yes! I got off two Energy Blasts with a whole 37 HP to spare! Is Belgemine looking for Yuna specifically? Did she maybe meet Braska, either while alive or after death? Or is she just meeting up with all the promising summoners to see if one of them will prove worthy of her sisters? She's so mysterious and cool, I love her. Everyone has to practice their smiling faces when little kids cheer for Yuna bringing the Calm. It's very awkward, especially for Callie's mom, who does know. Now I'm talking to Luzzu and Gatta again, which of course leads me to the eternal question: who shall live and who shall die, who by fire and who by drowning, who by sword and who by beast. It's like the one branching-paths decision we make in this game, which means I think about it a lot. Additionally, when I first played this game I was deep in my Achilles/Patroclus phase and these two gave me feelings. They still do, but now the feelings contain a strong element of nostalgia. This area is just full of NPCs I love. Shelinda is a doormat, but I am fond of her. Even if it a bit rich of her to say, "It's not about defeating Sin!" to a summoner. Defeating Sin is everything to Yuna. And she still goes out of her way to make Shelinda feel better. Yuna is so kind. Auron does not have time for your racist bullshit, Wakka. Also we're all low on MP, especially you, and MP is life. We are not doing the other half of the Highroad like this. Continued adventures of endeavoring not to boost Lulu's affection through the roof. Lu, I love you, and I love talking to you, but please, let me get cutscenes with Yuna. I firmly believe that Yuna asked her guardians not to tell Tidus the full truth, after this scene if not before. She doesn't want him to change how he treats her. (How he treats her: giving her minor crises of faith every time they talk, but in a good way.) She's in a particularly yearning mood here, not least because she's just been recording her will. And here comes Tidus, acting like she has a future... (And all her other guardians pretending not to be eavesdropping.) (Up until Auron can't take it anymore, anyway.) Enter Rin, Al Bhed ambassador (unofficial). At least, he's the one out there taking up space and being Highly Visible, suggesting strangers learn the language, doing all that stuff. He is, however, definitely wearing a kink collar. No, I do not know why. I knocked the Chocobo Eater off the cliff for the very first time! Usually I kill it before pushing it that far back, but with Lulu, Auron, and Tidus all hasted, it didn't get enough turns to push back. This is usually the part of the game where I save the chocobo ride for later and grind for Ability Spheres. With Extract Ability, this will probably take less time than usual, though I also appreciate the extra AP. Plus I want to get Kimahri 'round to Steal ASAP. [Some time later] I wonder what Dona does between getting turned away at the gate and meeting us in Djose. Is there another way around, or does she just wait until Operation Mi'ihen explodes and take the main road? She's quite close behind us. I wonder if she stays to help with the aftermath as well, or if she just heads onward. She definitely got ahead of us at some point (Guadosalam if not before). I find her blend of selfishness and selflessness very intriguing. Seymour's moving on Yuna even here. I wonder if he picked her over Dona and Isaaru because she was the one he happened to encounter, or if it was deliberate: she's younger, more naive certainly than Dona, and certainly seems very devout (liable to be dazzled by a maester's attention), less experienced...younger. But I expect Seymour would have gotten quite a long way with Isaaru, who is after all the most devout of the three - and besides, if Seymour told him what becomes of a chosen guardian, Isaaru might do a lot to keep his brothers from that fate. Seymour says all the right things to and about the Crusaders, even things Tidus thinks (and we are likely to think) are true, but he doesn't mean any of them. He just wants the operation to occur as part of his power struggle with Kinoc, with a bonus of having an effect on Yuna, making her more urgently want to complete the pilgrimage before more people die. I doubt Auron's 100% got Seymour's specific number yet, but he does know he's a maester, and Auron is the founder of Team Fuck Yevon. He knows you don't move up in the ranks without stepping on the people below you. (I mean, also Seymour advocates blatant hypocrisy, which is just the Yevon leadership trademark.) Being asked to perform the sending before people die may be more of a burden than being asked after. That's a heavy emotional burden to place on a teenager. (Although I do think legal/cultural adulthood in Spira is younger than it is for us - life is short no time for childhood.) Fact: the first time I played, I didn't even notice Luzzu and Gatta standing over there and missed the scene entirely. It's a good scene, and really highlights how much Tidus still doesn't understand on a gut level. He sees Gatta wanting to fight, and doesn't think that he could die, and of course there're warring impulses there. God though, the HD remaster takes all the character out of Wakka's face, and I hate it. You know, some people might see saying, "I'll propose when we win the cup," as meaning, "when pigs fly". But I guess that doesn't make sense considering Lulu's behavior. "Being with your girl is good, but keeping Sin far away from her is better." God. Men. I mean, in Spira it's not just men - Lulu went on two pilgrimages to try to keep Yuna alive - but she's also not someone who appreciates being protected. Yeah, Tidus doesn't understand yet why Yuna let Luzzu go, because he doesn't know that she's going to her death, too. And if she feels it right to ignore all the people she loves and who love her telling her not to go, then it's right for Luzzu to do the same. They both think saving the world is more important. Wakka, Wakka no, Wakka don't - see? Racism and religious fundamentalism leads to hurting yourself by kicking a cannon when you're wearing sandals. (I do appreciate the realism though.) I flipped a coin, and it looks like this run, Gatta lives and Luzzu dies. I don't really have an opinion on which is best; it's tragic either way. Though I guess it feels a little more narratively awful to have Tidus naively suggesting Gatta go to the front lines where he gets killed...But the coin has spoken. I appreciate how they give Kinoc character and relationships in so little time. Just his intro - he walks up and hugs Auron, not a huggable person - says something. Auron is still stiff and cagey with him, but that he allowed himself to be embraced says there's more there. Of course, he's also plotting Operation Mi'ihen to break the Crusaders (and, if X-2 is taken into account, setting up the deaths of the Crimson Squad - I think to take out potential rivals), so it's not like he's a good person or anything. But he's less flat. Got the overkill on Gui with ease, thanks to Energy Blast. (And got everyone AP.) Man, Sin's arrival is Lovecraftian as fuck. I like it. The black tendrils snaking through the bay... top creepiness. How Lucil, Elma, and Clasko - how anyone - survived Sin's blast I'll never know. People were disintegrated where they stood! I also don't know how Seymour, a full caster, has the Strength to physically hold off Gui2. It's been weakened, sure, but come the heck on. (His Summon command, which he must have, is also not there. I guess we're not allowed to get a sneak peek of Anima yet.) I appreciate the extra touch of giving Seymour AP, to trick you into thinking he's going to join the party long-term. :C They almost got a shot off on Sin, but unfortunately, horseshoes and hand grenades. Also heartrending: the messages that come up when you check the corpses. Shut up, Seymour, I have another Energy Blast in me. Besides, he could go for Sin at any time; he has his Final Aeon, after all. But he won't. He'd rather destroy the world than save it with his death. And he wants Yuna to feel helpless, so she'll feel like she needs him. Oh no the dead kid who we saw practicing to avenge his sister...no...stop it... Before Jecht came to Spira, his drinking didn't have real consequences to him. He was "still the best", after all. He still had a wife who wouldn't leave him. He hurt other people, but they didn't confront him about it. It took Spira to make him see that it was a problem. Hell of a thing to put on your kid, like, "Hey, son, can I get a mercy kill? Thanks." Though I guess that is...I mean, end-of-life care is a traditional part of a child's duties. Just...not usually in your teens.

[cacoetheswriting]

Fluff Alphabet - Bellamy Blake

A = Attractive (what do they find attractive about the other?)

Bellamy has never met a more courageous woman: always keeping your head high, your heart strong, never letting anyone step all over you. Your bravery is exactly what he finds most attractive about you. And it’s what you find attractive about him, plus his starlike freckles.

B = Baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)

Bellamy would make a great father, there is no denying that. He has a heart of gold, he’s wise beyond his years, he is protective yet strict. He would love nothing more than to have children with you. You are his family.

C = Cuddle (how do they cuddle?)

Your back pressed tightly to his chest, his arm wrapped around yours, hand on your chest feeling your heart beat. 

D = Dates (what are dates with them like?)

Dates with Bellamy are always adventurous. He makes every moment count and always manages to keep you entertained.

E = Everything (“you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…))

“You are the reason I long for a better world Y/N. A place where we can grow old together safely, raise our children without fear that one day they will have to fight to stay alive. You are my willpower.”

F = Feelings (when did they know they were falling in love?)

Believe it or not Bellamy knew he was going to fall in love with you when the two of you first landed in bed. Your nonchalance, the way you presented yourself with such grace and confidence, and the words that you said when he undressed you, “Just don’t fall for me too hard Bell-”.

G = Gentle (are they gentle? If so, how?)

Towards you, and simply when with you, Bellamy is the gentlest soul. He would never dare to do anything that could hurt you physically or emotionally. Your happiness, making you feel comfortable and loves, is his priority. He always does everything in his power to make you see that. 

H = Hand/Hold (how do they like to hold hands?)

The older Blake is not the biggest fan of PDA. But when he does hold your hand, Bellamy first traces your fingers gently with his own before intertwining them and lifting your hand to his lips and kissing it. 

I = Impression (first impression/s)

Bellamy thought you were the most beautiful girl he has ever laid eyes on. You quite literally took his breath away. And it didn’t take him long to realise you were also brave, smart, kind, and caring - everything he could only dream of in a partner.

J = Joker (are they into pulling pranks?)

He’s not into pranks of sorts but he does have a good sense of humour. His jokes are quite good too, not that you would ever admit it.

K = Kisses (how do they kiss?)

His kisses are always soft yet intense, there is no in between. They are always fuelled by immense passion you feel for one another and every time the burning fire grows larger. Bellamy tangles his fingers in your hair as he holds your face close, his tongue dancing with yours - your hearts beating together as one. 

L = Love (who says I love you first?)

He does - however, completely by accident. You just finished telling him about your day and Bellamy, as always completely lost in your words, smiles from ear to ear and shakes his head with a laugh. “God I love you.” 

M = Memory (their favourite moment together)

Bellamy loves to reminisce on the time he asked you to be his girlfriend. The two of you have been ‘friends with benefits’ of sorts for quite some time now at that point, therefore, spending all of your free time together anyway. You were laying in his bed, your head resting on his chest. He kissed the top of your head and took a deep breath, hesitant at first of what he was going to say next even though he knew it felt right. It was what he wanted. “What would you say if we were to make this official?” He asked as you drew circles on his chest with your thumb. “Monogamous fuck buddies?” Bellamy smirked which made you let out a giggle too. “Yes, that is exactly what I meant.”

N = Nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)

Your relationship is not built on material things. Yes, Bellamy believes you deserve the world, and vice versa, but neither of you think it’s the most important to spoil the other. As long as both of you feel loved and appreciated you don’t need anything else.

O = Orange (what colour reminds them of their other half?)

Blue - like the sky, the sea, and the stars that illuminate the dark sky. Everything peaceful and soothing, like you, he associates with the colour blue. And even though the shade generally means sadness, to him it only brings happiness.

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

Most often you will find yourself calling him “Bell.”, sometimes when you are being extra cutesy you will call him “baby”. While Bellamy would simply use your surname in an endearing and loving kind of way.   

Q = Quaint (what is their favourite non-modern thing?)

The older Blake absolutely adores literature, old books with missing pages and crumpled covers. It is an object with a story not only written inside. Therefore, his favourite possession is a rustic copy of the Iliad that you found one day exploring.  

R = Rainy Day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Bellamy likes to read. The two of you would sit in bed, a book in each of your laps. The silence is soothing, nothing but the sound of raindrops hitting the ground outside.

S = Sad (how do they cheer themselves/each other up)

All Bellamy really needs when he’s feeling out of place is to hear you laugh. The soothing melodic sounds of your voice makes everything better. Of course there are days when that is not enough. Then the two of you sit in silence, holding hands. As long as he has you he will be okay.

T = Talking (what do they love to talk about?)

The present, the past, and your future together. The weather, books, what happened on a given day. Accomplishments, the beach, space. What to have for dinner, habits and goals. Everything and nothing.

U = Unencumbered (what helps them relax?)

The sound of your voice, plain and simple. “How do you manage to make everything sound so melodious?” Bellamy could listen to you talk for hours on end, about everything and nothing all at once. And when you sing, the world stops. There is no better feeling in the world to him than what rushes through his heart as you sing. 

V = Very (what do they like to show off? what are they proud of?)

As cocky as he can be sometimes Bellamy prefers to show you off. Not only because you are in his eyes incredibly beautiful, almost without a flaw, you’re also immensely courageous and possess a heart of gold. He wants everyone to know it, he wants everyone to know how lucky he thinks he is to have you.  

W = Wedding (when, how, where do they propose?)

The words slipped off his tongue so naturally, with ease and warmth. And he held his breath as soon as he said them. Eagerly he waited for your reaction, your response. But you just looked at him and the biggest smile illuminated your features. Bellamy knew then and there what that smile meant - yes, you will marry him.

X = Xylophone (what’s their song?)

Have You Ever Seen The Rain by Creedence Clearwater Revival. As time passed on Earth, more different new-old things were discovered. Among those was a stack of records, surprisingly undamaged by the passage of time. The song became his favourite, he especially loves it when you hum it under your breath thinking he can't hear.

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

“You’re the Achilles to my Penthesilea.” Bellamy smirked softly at your words as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers running through his black curls. “You do remember that Achilles killed Penthesilea on the battlefield.” “I do, but I also remember how quickly he fell in love with her beauty and bravery.” Bellamy raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you saying that’s why I fell in love with you?” “Maybe.”

Z = Zebra (if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)

Bellamy would most likely get a dog, a German Shepherd to be exact. Someone to play with, to train with. Someone to protect you when he’s not around. A best friend.

[writersblock2point0]

Volturi Imagine: Sweet Serial Killer

Reader is a young serial killer and brings her next victims into the Volturi Castle. Unknowingly, she’s got an audience. Named Reader

Warnings: Very gory! So much blood and killing. Detailed killing. Like seriously. Dark content. Vampire?(Is that a warning?) readers is female. 

I smiled as I made my way through the doors, at the east side of the castle. Voices behind me were a mix of awe and hesitation. Turning back, I called to my friends.

“C’mon guys, a bet’s a bet.” I sang, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t want to sabotage campus and risk getting kicked out right?”

Vince and Jack both sighed, following me through and I looked at Marie and Grace, waiting for them to come as well. Once the four of them were in the castle with me, I smirked into the darkness. The castle was old yet I didn’t see anyone walking about the place, to protect it. Walking towards the throne room, I looked around for any signs of cameras, and finding none, I relaxed and joked with my group.

“So, you’ve been in here before?” Jack asks, walking through the door I was holding open. It was deeper inside the castle.

“Yeah, lots. I know every inch.” I replied, before smiling, holding up glow sticks. “Now, everyone knows; no going outside, and stay with a partner...or don’t, either way. You get five minutes before I come find you…” I let it close and looked at my watch.

9:28, so I have till 9:33. Smiling I walked back outside to get a machete, a large hunting knife,  large pair of gardening shears, an axe, a hatchet, and some rope.

Taking the knife, I slung the bag over my shoulder and sauntered in. It was nine 9:40.

The castle was quiet and dark, but once I let the door shut heavily behind me, the anticipation was thrilling. Smiling, I listened for anything. Walking down the hall, I turned to see a long corridor. I paused as I heard shuffling, before a small creek.

“Marie? Grace?” I call, voice soft and light. Entering an open room, I wait for movement. My eyes adjusted to the darkness a long time ago. I froze as I noticed movement from the bedcovers. Someone is under the bed. Walking silently, I lifted the covers and saw Maire’s sandals. Taking her by the ankles, I pull her out, smiling as she screams in shock.

Her glow stick is yellow, and she takes a few breathes. I tilt my head as I watch her, she’s frighten which is funny.

Smiling I offer my hand. “Thanks.” She mutters and I pull her up, right into the knife. I watch as her eyes get wide, she gasps, and I see blood come to her mouth. Slowly sliding the blade from her lower torso, I see her white sweater darken with red, her hands instinctively going to the wound. She falls to her knees in pain, tears in her eyes as she looks up at me.

“Aw,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Don’t worry sweetheart, you still have fifteen minutes.” I take her by the arms and haul her up, walking out of the room and towards the throne room.

I hum a lullaby as I pull her into the marble room, the moon shining from the windows in the ceiling. Dropping her in the middle of the room, I roll my eyes as she weakly looks around, her eyes drooping.

“Pitiful…” I grumble, placing my hands on my hips with a sigh. Looking down at her I fake a shocked expression. Biting my tongue I feel my eyes sting, sniffing I hold my breath before placing my knife down my my bag.

“Jack!” I scream, “Grace! Vince!!” I make my voice as loud as possible, knowing the echos would be heard. I make tears fall from my eyes as I hold Marie’s cold body. “Please!” I scream, and continue to shake with sobs as I see jack rush through the door, the rest following after.

“What-” He rushes over. “Oh my god what happened?”

I shake my head, “I came to find you guys a-and she was just here!”

“Marie?!” Vince shakes her, trying to wake her as Grace starts to cry and pace the room.

“I left my phone in the car, I’ll go get help.” I say, getting up, and rushing to the doors, closing them I spot a vase sitting on a small alterish type of pilar. Take it, I find it’s somewhat heavy, but easy to swing. Turning around, I relax my face, walking over and rounding Grace who is crying before swinging the vase and hitting Jack over the head, as Vince is yelling, I hit him too.

“Grace!” I call after the running girl before shrugging, chucking the vase at her and watching as it hits her in the back, making her fall to the ground. From the bag, I take the gardening shears from my black bag and walk to her. She’s crying, and bleeding. Seems she hit her head when she fell.

“Now, now, don’t cry.” I chide, and lean down, pulling her shoes off and her socks, before cutting the achilles tendons in both her ankles. She screams as blood pours from them, and weakly tries to push herself up to walk.

Turning back, I see the two boys are still out. Walking over, I hummed a small tune as I dragged their bodies into a line. Tieing them at the ankles and wrists, I turned to see Grace trying to drag herself to the doors. A trail of blood followed her.

I sighed, “Gracie, Gracie.” I came up beside her, watching as she desperately tried to get away. Picking her up by her legs, she screams as I drag her back, dropping her between the boys. Marie’s body is still here I left it, lifeless and still.

“Please!” Grace sobs, rolling in pain as her feet hang and don’t move.

“What?” I asked, standing over her, “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” I took out my machete, tapping it against my cheek as I glanced at the two boys. “Would you like to pick?” “No! No please!” She cries, and I hum.

“I think…”I crouch down by Vince. Tapping his stomach. “He seems fitting.” Slicing his shirt, I paused before glancing at Grace. “You know...I think I’d like that better.”

I smiled as she cried below me, and I helped her onto her knees, steadying her before jamming my machete into her stomach and tearing her open horizontally. Blood gushed out and I reached into her stomach, gripping the large and small intestines, before pushing the organs into her mouth.

She gagged, eyes red and puffy, blood running down her chin as I saw her chew and try to spit her own insides out.

“Interesting.” I watched as her eyes rolled over and she slumped down, her insides hanging out of her stomach and I flexed my hands, seeing the blood run down my arm. I look over as I hear a groan, seeing Vince was waking up.

“Vince!” I chime, beaming at him as he came to. “You’re up next!” He was still out of it, so I was easily able to get him up against the wall, tying his arms to large pillars on either side of him before tying his ankles together. He was more awake when I slapped him a few times.

“Now, Vince.” I hold his chin, watching as he glares at me, nose running as he breathes heavily. “This is going to hurt a lot, and I’m really hoping you don’t pass out from the pain.”

“What are you going to do?”

I grin, “Do you know of the blood eagle?” I waved my hatchet in his face, making a slicing motion just before his nose. “I hear it’s very painful. Feel free to cry, and scream. I’m sure god will hear.”

With that, I round him, and tear his shirt off. I cut his back open, pulling the skin away and marvel at how the muscles and bones just fit. Gripping my hatchet, I strike him, smiling as he screams and flinches from me.

Breaking his ribs, I have trouble with pulling the first from the body, but soon I easily slide into the messy work and pull his lungs out.

I laid on my back, looking up at the round ceiling, intricate glass windows above me. The marble ground was not that bad, a little stiff on the joints.

Closing my eyes I sighed, “Well, what do I do with you now?” I tilted my head back, seeing the severed heads on my once group of friends. I sit up, picking up Jack’s severed head, looking around. “Should I...put your heads on stakes? Or maybe sell your body parts? Nah, too smelly, too messy.” I muttered to myself, drumming my fingers on his forehead in thought, before I caught sight of a drain. “Oh?” I walked over, looking down into it and sighing. “It’s perfect.”

Lifting it up, I slid the lid to the side. I hummed some Beethoven as I hauled their bodies in, letting them plummet into darkness before I took each head and fixed their hair and cleaned the blood from their faces before dropping them. I shut the drain, ignoring the dried blood on my hands, and picked up my things.

The next week, I received a call from the castle, saying I left something there and they would like me to retrieve it. I was a little confused, I had my phone, my bag, my toys...What did I leave?

Walking in, I came to the front desk, an area I haven’t seen before. The woman sitting rose to her feet and smiled at me.

“Welcome, the master’s are waiting to see you.” She rounded her desk and the way her hips swayed in those heels made me want to see if she could do so without legs. Maybe. My eyes snapped up as we came to doors, and I recognized the room. Feeling perplexed, I followed her in.

She stops at the thrones, three to be exact, and did a small bow. I raised an eyebrow at her, remaining upright as she sent them a large and beautiful smile. I want her teeth.

“Thank you, Danielle, for bringing our guest right to us.” The one in the middle spoke, and I narrowed my eyes at how he spoke. “You may go.” I noticed how her hands shook, just slightly. I watched her go, wondering why she seemed afraid.

“Now, my dear.” I smiled at him, seeing him stand with his hands in front of him. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

My eyes widen, and I gave a small smile. “Oh?”

“Yes, my name is Aro,” I resisted the urge to laugh. What an old name. “These are my brothers, Marcus, and Caius.”

“I’m Jerome, but usually I’m called Rome.”

“And, you are not native to Italy?” He asks, and I cross my arms, my weight on my left side as my right knee bends.

“That depends.”

“On what?” He inquires, the tiniest smile on his face.

“What I tell people.”

He nods, “People like your friends?” He gestures to the drain and I frown.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t play coy.”

“I really don’t know what you mean.” I answer, crossing my arms and standing tall. I glance at the other people around us. They were all white skinned, pale chalky beings, with red eyes. The eyes. How did I not notice before? Aro’s long black hair swayed in the wind and I watched as he descended the steps, coming to stand by the drain, closer to me.  

“You killed four people, and placed their bodies inside of here.”

My eyes widened, “What?”

“Yes.”

“No, that is so-absurd and-and offensive!” I gasp, glaring at him and shaking my head. “I wasn’t even here, this is the first time I’ve been here since a month ago!” It was a try, I first visited the castle on a school field trip a month ago.

“You stabbed a girl, cut the Achilles tendon on the other, fed her her own insides.” I felt my body flush, my arousal spiking at the ghostly feeling on my hand pushing Grace’s insides into her mouth. “You blood eagled a boy, and cut the other’s limbs off. You beheaded all of them, and then took a small nap with their heads.” He pauses, looking into my eyes as I remained calm.

“Then, you placed their bodies inside, before cleaning your mess.”

I grimaced, “No, that’s disgusting.” I almost made myself laugh, feeling as if I wasn’t trying her hard to lie. “I-what?”

Aro smiles, “You don’t lie very well.” I force tears to my eyes, willing a crying expression on my face. “You did, Jerome.”

I watched as two people dragged in a body, and it was Vince. His back was open, his lungs were gone, and I held back my anger. It was wrong. His ribs were snapped, broken. It didn’t look like a blood eagle. I looked at Aro, and roll my eyes.

Wiping away the fake tears I walk over, looking at his body. The head gone, some of the hands and chest were flayed to the bone. He looked like a battered bird, fallen from a nest.

“So, what?” My voice dull as I stand up and turn to the three masters. “You turn me in?”

“How many have you killed?”

I frown, tilting my head. “Why would I tell you?”

“Is this your first? You seemed very comfortable with yourself.”

“No, it’s not.” I answered, placing my hands on my hips before looking him in the eyes.

“How many? Do you remember them all?” I snorted, yes, I did.

“Well, I killed our family hamster, my sister was not happy. He didn’t survive the vacuum cleaner. There was my high school principal, Doug Allan. I left him on the soccer field the night before homecoming, oh it was beautiful. Made it look like suicide. Jenny, a small old neighbor that didn’t keep her damn cats off my balcony. I killed them too.” I listed them off on my fingers. “Max, a classmate who ‘had too much to drink and drowned in his bathroom in his dorm while taking a bath’. Johnathan, who lost his hands because he couldn’t keep them to himself, I fed him his fingers. Holly, a volleyball player who did not melt from the inside out. Her ashes got shipped to her parents back in London. Greg, a lonely sixteen year old boy who liked to peek into people’s homes...Jason, Brad, Lily, Alyssa, Mat, Weasley, Georgia, Dona…” I trailed off, counting some more. “About ten more as well.”

“My oh my, you’ve been a busy girl.”

I shrug, “Gotta make traveling fun.”

“I propose,” He drums his fingers together, looking at his brothers. “What say you, brothers? About young, Jerome, staying with us?”

“She’s monstrous.” Caius stated, and I smiled, silently taking the compliment.

“Young…” Marcus’s voice was like an old organ, blowing nothing but air. “A vibrant delight.”

“I agree.” Aro speaks, smiling at me. “Jerome, would you care to stay with us?”

I narrowed my eyes, “Why?”

“You get shelter, food, room for your hobby.” He side glances at Vince’s corpse. I smirk, thinking back to how he screamed. Before I took his tongue that is. “Spread your wings, and...grow.”

If I stayed, I got to live and kill, maybe even torture others. I’d get to keep them for longer periods, and venture out, discover new things.

“And, what do you get out of this?”

Aro smirks, “Whenever you bring someone home, we get to watch.”

“Deal.”