#and you'll talk to your son about it. and you'll fear you're doing everything wrong

[angelsdean]

Jack: Yeah, he-he wasn't all bad, my dad. Uh, that's what makes our parents loom so large in our heads, I think. They're… a million things to us all at once.

And even after they're long gone, we're stuck with them. Can't help it. They're inside of us. You know, my whole life, I promised myself I'd be nothing like him, but…I ended up just like him.

Kevin: No, Dad. You're way better than him.

Jack: Thank you, my son. And you're gonna be way better than me.

— 5x07, This Is Us

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Phantom Grin

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Bruce Wayne visits his son's grave on the night of his resurrection. Will it change Jason's fate, or is it all simply inevitable?

Chapters: 10/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd is Disabled, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Resurrected Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along

Chapter Ten: Conflict Of Interest

Jason snuck out of his window after lunch the next day. He took the car back to the church, and she stood at the entrance to the courtyard as if she knew he was coming. "I'm sorry," Jason whispered, "I just—. I needed—." "Jason, can I ask you something?" questioned Sister Irene. Jason nodded. "Why didn't you tell your father what really happened to that man?" "What man?" Jason asked. Sister Irene took a deep breath and wrung her hands. "The one that fell," she whispered. Jason's blood ran cold. "I wouldn't have asked if I was judging you. I'm asking because you carry so much guilt for something out of your control." "I wanted him to die. I wanted it so bad," Jason whispered, "Don't you think that's wrong?" He reached into his pocket and placed her rosary back into her hands. She shook her head. "Consider it a gift... And I guess it was wrong, but it wasn't as if you acted on your feelings. Would you like to talk about something?" she asked. Jason hated himself for feeling the way he did. The comfort he felt around her felt so familiar, so warm, and he couldn't stay away. "You know what I've been training to do at night," Jason whispered, "Don't you? Sister, I'm going to kill someone." She looked up at him, and he stood up a little straighter so that he towered over her. She took his hand and made him look her in the eyes. "Look at me. You've got a good heart—." "I don't think I do, Sister Irene. I do a lot of things wrong... Like coming here, I shouldn't have come back," Jason interrupted her, "I really shouldn't have come back." "I'm glad you did. You'll be back again, and hopefully, you'll bring me a danish," Sister Irene joked. Jason smiled. She stood on her tiptoes before leading him back to where they talked the day before. Sister Irene sat on the same bench. "Would you like for me to pray with you?" she asked. Jason swallowed hard and nodded. "Okay, well, today I want to hear your words." "I don't know where to start—." She gave him a stern look, and he sat down with her. Sister Irene took his hand, and they bowed their heads. "God, I need you to keep me from doing the wrong thing... In more ways than one," Jason paused. He opened one eye to look at Sister Irene, and she slapped his hand. "Ouch!" "Go on, and keep your eyes closed," she warned him. Jason chewed his lip to cover up the fact that he was smiling. He bowed his head once more. "I'm not the most eloquent guy out there, but I want You to know that I'm desperate and afraid, and I'm so tired of being in pain... Please don't let me act out of fear. Let me be sure. Let me take my life back, please," Jason whispered. Sister Irene nodded gently. "Amen?" "Amen," she whispered in reply. "Will you stay for a while?" "I don't think I should," Jason mumbled. His phone rang. "See, I think I should go... But I'll think about the danish thing. Do you like coffee?" "I like everything, Jason," Sister Irene grinned. Jason didn't say goodbye before he turned around and walked away. He walked to the park before finally answering his phone. "Barbara?" Jason asked. "What's going on?" Barbara asked. Jason chewed his lip. "You're not in trouble. Bruce is just worried because you disappeared." "I'm alright. I just went for a drive and got some fresh air. Can I come and talk to you?" Jason asked. Barbara made a clicking sound with her tongue. "I guess I could fit you into my busy schedule. Something wrong?" Barbara asked. Jason made a soft noise on the phone. He knew Barbara would never allow him to lie. "Is it serious?" "No, I just figured you're the only one who won't make fun of me," Jason replied. "I'll be here," Barbara replied. Jason drove to the clock tower and made his way up to meet Barbara. She offered him some chips, and he turned it down. "I started out this week thinking that maybe I'd kill someone, and now I've got a crush on a nun-. Can I go to hell for saying that?" Jason confessed. Barbara took off her glasses, and her eyes widened.

"Okay... Um," Barbara let out a breath, "Having a crush on someone isn't a sin... I'm a little concerned about that first part, though." "That's not the important part. Barbara, she knows," Jason whispered. "She knows what?" Barbara asked. "Everything. The sister knows things about me that I don't even know... Things I barely remember. It's fuzzy, but she asked me about something. She knows I was Robin," Jason confided in Barbara. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "She's a meta... Or maybe she's got a divine gift. I don't know." Barbara nodded. "Okay... So, you have a crush on her? This nun? How old is she?" Barbara asked. "She's an um—. She's a postulant, so maybe eighteen. She doesn't look that old. Barbara, are you mad at me?" Jason asked. Barbara shook her head. Jason went to the fridge and pulled out a soda. He took a sip and sat down. "I'm not mad at you, Jason. Are you okay?" Barbara asked. Jason shrugged. "It's okay if you're not. This conversation is just between you and me." "Same old, same old... I just—. The other stuff doesn't seem as important as this. Barbara, I just met her yesterday, and she knows my whole life... And she wants to see me again," Jason whispered, "I can't do that, though... Can I?" He plopped down on the couch and put his face in his hands. "Jason, it's alright... And I really can't say for you. Maybe you should get to know her since she knows you so well. Do you want me to look into her?" Barbara asked. Jason shook his head. "Please be careful, Jason." Jason knit his brows together as he rocked back and forth. "I can't go back... I shouldn't. Not to see her, at least," Jason whispered, "If anyone asks—." "You came over for lunch. You got on my nerves for a little bit. I sent you home," Barbara whispered. Jason offered her an unsure smile. His eyes seemed so uncertain. Jason knew what he swore to himself, but he wasn't sure that he could stick to his word. Sister Irene's voice floated around his head.

[chubbyheadquarters]

Genre: Yandere Pronouns: Gender-Neutral TW/CW: Yandere Tendencies, Stalking, Guilt-tripping, etc. Character(s): Mk

He loves spending time with you, dreamily looking at you and listening to whatever you may be talking about. You could be talking about the most technical thing and he'll remember it all, word for word. What can he say? Your voice is absolutely entrancing. That's why Pisgy uses it to his advantage, since he'll actually get the work done if you ask him to.

He has such strong feelings for you, it's not even funny. He could go on about how kind and supportive you are, how gorgeous you are, what you told him the day before- Literally anything that has to do with you. The others find it cute at times, but sometimes, it can get a bit much when that's all he wants to talk about.

Mk trusts the others when it comes to you, since you see Sandy, Tang and Pigsy as guardians, whether it be as dads or uncles. He knows Mei and Red Son would never try to hit on you, since they're his best friends! Best friends don't hurt each other like that!

He hates when your attention isn't on him. It's not as bad as Wukong, since he's somewhat good at hiding it, but not as good as Macaque. He'll do what he can to pull your attention back to him and jump for joy if you do. If not, he'll wait patiently, albeit sadly, for you to finish talking to that other person.

He'll stalk you when you leave the shop, whether it be a trip to the store, maybe when you're heading back home, heck, even a simple walk garners his full curiousity. He needs to know what you're doing, what you're getting, see who you're talking to. He can keep in mind what snacks or drinks you like and get more affection. And he can keep track of the workers who may be getting a bit too bold...

He hates how wrong a part of it feels, cause the other part makes him so happy! He's seen how healthy relationships are portrayed in media, and he knows that his feelings are more... intense than others. He's thought about going to someone to talk about it, but decided against it. Doesn't need some stranger hearing about you. They might try to steal you away from him.

It absolutely does not help that Monkey King somewhat encourages it. "You just have a strong love for them, that's all!" Macaque is also no help and even adds more fuel to the fire. "Show them a few moves, give them a taste of how great you'd be as a partner. No need to fear what you feel." Mk takes those words to heart and believes them with all his heart.

Should you start showing interest in anyone, he'll become devastated. His brain will kick into show off mode, upping the things he can show off. If that doesn't work, he'll stay cooped up in his room. He can't bear going out there and seeing you talk happily about someone else. Usually that worries you enough to call off your day out and spend it with him. And yes, he absolutely soaks that time up.

If that doesn't work, then he'll resort to guilting you into not going. He doesn't want to! But he refuses to lose you to some random person who could end up hurting you! He's been with you for longer, given you so much of his time and love, so why should they get any? They don't deserve you. They don't love you as much as he does!

The confession can go one of two ways. The first one being that you accept his feelings and everything's good. The second one's a simple rejection, one that's taken surprisingly well. But truthfully, he's making sure that every person you pursue/pursues you breaks up or leaves. He won't hurt them, but he's very persuasive when it comes to their safety.

He will NEVER kidnap you, nor will he ever force you to do something you hate or find uncomfortable. He can't even imagine doing so, since he wants you to be HAPPY with him. He will break if you begin to hate him.

He's sure it'll just take a little while, but you'll see his love for you soon! He knows it! And when you do, you'll be able to go on the best dates, exchange all the kisses you want, cuddle in bed, exchange sweet words to each other, etc. And the future-

Don't worry your pretty head about it! He's got it all planned out! From the perfect wedding and honeymoon, to the place you'd both start living in and how many kids you'll have/adopt-but if you don't want kids, that's totally okay! You can get a pet! If you want it to be just the two of you, then he has no complaints whatsoever.

He'll do anything he can to make you happy, to gain your love, to even have you in the same room as him. It's sickly sweet, disgustingly so at some points, and can sometimes turn a bit sour, but you won't notice it. He'll always have the perfect excuse. After all, you see him as adorable and innocent Mk! And if that's what you want, then that's who he'll be.

[plusvanity]

idk if youve done this or want to do this but, any travis headcanons? 👉👈

just love your style of writing. :3

Ofc!!! <3 and thank you very much, you're such a lovely person, I've seen you a lot on my reblogs/ likes and I wanted to thank you for supporting me <3 I honestly HOPE this doesn't sound too weird, haha.

So, here comes Travis:

-Travis is a very soft boy inside but he's masking it very well.

Growing up, he was a pretty curious and active child. He loved his mother to no end as she was the most beautiful, compassionate, generous and gentle soul he ever found in a person. (He realized that a lot later in time)

He'd do anything with her. Play, pray three times a day, thank God for every little beautiful thing in his life, help around and just be the silly little boy that he was.

He always feared his father even though, when he was little, all the punishment was verbal and/or regarding the chores that he hated to do.

(There was tension, hostility and disinterest in his father's behavior but nothing to be too outrageous..Yet. Needles to say, this stayed like this due to his mother's presence in the house that acted as an referee, calming down her demented husband and soothing little Travis's pain away)

Unfortunately from here, things only go dark and.. blindly assuming that u know what I'm talking about lol, here's the part when Travis mothers gets ill, the cult doesn't do anything about it, Travis is way too young and insignificant in this whole equation to do anything himself and... she eventually dies.

-Travis's first trauma hits harder than his father's slap.

Now, young Travis found himself in a very disturbing and visceral reality. It might all seem like a horrible nightmare (and that's how he saw it back then) but unfortunately it's not.

Dissociation was his only way out. No, he didn't develop the full DID, but his massive trauma triggered his brain to such an extent that it needed to shut down lots of processes in hope to self-preservate and get away from the pain. (This is the easiest way I can explain it but of you're curious in HOW utterly shocking the whole process is, search on Google 'brain neuroimaginy while dissociating' and you'll see that the cerebral activity shrinks to almost no activity at all)

He went on living with this whole disaster on his shoulders, suppressing the trauma as much as he could.

Nobody was on his side, nobody acknowledged that what they 'let happen' was absolutely immoral and cruel. Nobody fucking admitted they were wrong.

Classic religious approach for 'Meh, SHE wasn't meant to be, I guess???'

- Now, alone with his barely-wanted son, the passive-aggressive treatment began to escalate into nasty shit.

Travis got much more involved in the church community, now with a stable role in the church's chorus and as his father's 'right hand'. Their dynamics never screamed 'abuse' from a distance... or maybe it did but that's how ignorant the church community was????

Punishments moved from verbal abuse and degradation to physical. Fists, kicks, hair pulling and dragging across the floor (This one is bad, believe me for a fucking reason lol) and food interdiction.

-With no way around or soul to listen to his pain, he kept everything inside, locked the misery with a key, crossed his fingers and hoped for it to.... miraculously dissolve overnight?????

-First romantic interest.

I wouldn't really call it a 'romantic interest' as he was a middle-schooler BUT first crush.

It was a boy his age that he befriended within the church community.

The little attention, compassion and fun they had, quickly unlocked the emotional burden on Travis's heart. In a naive and very impressionable state of mind, Travis found himself pouring his heart out to that boy. He told him the things he wasn't supposed to tell anyone in hope for understatement and more compassion.

Not gonna lie, it made the other kid feel very weird and confused. He didn't say too much, thing that made Travis's heart..... ache.

The second Worst Day of His Life quickly came when Travis, naively assuming that the other boy had mutual feelings for him, made the worst mistake.

The kiss was like a blink of an eye.. and the kid went broadcasting the event to everyone around the church.

When Travis's father found out it was...bad to say the least. The rage, the shame and the disappointment for his brat of a son came in bloody fists, kicks and bruises.

That day, it teached Travis an important lesson in life. 'Don't you ever open up'

As the things escalated, fear naturally turns into hate. Hurt turns into rage (you see where this is going) and he begins to harden up.

-Travis puts on a mask but... not so much really?

His anger is almost unbearable. The steam and fuel drives him to act as a semi-copy of his father, crashing on small prey, in his case, Sal's gang (with Sal especially as a target) This reaction is natural and expectable from a deeply traumatized kid.

Jealousy acts as a reassuring factor that 'Yes, he needs to slash and burn the blue haired boy'

He uses all the slurs and insults that destroyed him as a weapon because in the end, he doesn't hate Sal. He hates himself.

-He desires happiness, human relationships, closure and security. He does. He misses his mother so much, he'd rip his heart apart to see her one more time.. he seeks comfort, softness and understanding in Sal. He sees the love he needs the most and he's utterly incapacitated to chaise that love. Not when he treated Sal this way for all these years.

-Travis lets someone in, learns a healthy coping mechanism and earns a valuable friend.

When Travis and Sal get close, Travis explodes with everything that hurt him, narrating Sal his whole damn life, finally allowing himself vulnerability for the first time in the eyes of a true caring person.

-Travis follows the journey of healing without hating himself and allows Sal to guide him through the process.

Travis has a very long way to go but he finally realizes that there's light at the end of the tunnel. Generational trauma is a new perspective that he needs to explore in hope to give himself a bit of comfort. 'It's not you personally that they try to bring down, it's anyone in your place that will experience this conflict'.

He comes to terms with how beyond repair his father's roots and beliefs are and he tries his best to distance himself from the misery... as much as his still-minor position allows him.

It's all about making it livable for now..

-Travis learns to value his new friendship with Sal more than he desires a relationship.

Some happier trivia now.???

-Travis is pretty good at singing!

-Travis gets to love David Bowie because he reminds him of the time Sal sang and played 'Heroes' for him. The song and the meaning grew inside his mind as one of the best memories and happiest moments of his life.

Another song that he listens and laughs a bit in irony is: Modern Love. "Never gonna fall for (modern love) Walks beside me (modern love) Walks on by (modern love) Gets me to the church on time (church on time)' it's about Sal, obv :3

-Travis used to get involved around school activities too to put on the 'Pretty Preacher's Son' mask to simulate false-perfection but he grew out of it thanks to Sal.

-Travis loves long walks and talking and laughing at silly little things.

-Travis vision on religion:

Part-time atheist, Part-time believer. The religious trauma and guilt is not something that he'll ever grow out of. It's something that can't be changed and in order to survive, he needs to change his life vision.

There are times when he hates God, blames him for turning his back when he was suffering. There are times when he still clings to the idea that there's something out there, something that... brought Sal in his life. There are times when he sees Christianity as nothing but a mass-controlling copied and revamped religion imported from Egypt that instead of bringing the people closer to God, it actually alienates them because of all the punishment and un-bendable rules that made the Bible be the fucking Bible.

It makes people selfish, judgy and look down on other religion because FUCK U if u don't think like me- broken mentality.

Alright, I genuinely HOPE this is a bit of a more in-depth analysis of Travis and his contradictory personality. If you feel like asking anything, feel free to do so! I doubt that this post is fully readable lol.

Anyway, have a great day!! <3 :3

[mellocat925]

Dear Pascal,

I'm really bored again, so I'm going to help you try to make amends with your brother and win over the favor of this town.

The twink with the brown and purple hair (forgot his name) will be sending you a letter pretending to be Vidcund, telling you to meet him at the garden at midnight. Don't be alarmed. He's trying to do that thing where he tricks the two of you into talking, except he's also there to act as a mediator.

The sooner you two reconcile, the sooner you can get a normal life for your son and get the town to stop hating you. And remember to tell him everything that you told me when you were trying to convince me to take you to this cursed place to begin with.

If you say the wrong thing, you'll end up confirming the beliefs of everyone in Willow Creek - that you haven't changed, and you don't deserve of a second chance.

I can't help you if you mess up. The only thing I can do is to take you and your son to a place where you can get a fresh start, far away from everything and everyone you've ever known.

Take care,

Melony Felony

---

Nights in Willow Creek were far different than the ones in Strangetown. The temperature was a gentle type of cold, and crickets and birds would chirp alongside the sound of the wind as Pascal stared at the far less impressive night sky.

His mind hadn't fully processed everything that had happened. One moment he was shoving Vidcund out the door after a heated argument over his fate, another moment he was banging on a see-through wall as Chloe and Lola laughed at his misfortune.

He shuddered as his mind flashed to the day that Chloe read him the final letter that Nervous wrote to him. The one telling him that this would be the very last letter he was going to send, because there was no point in writing to someone who didn't care enough about him to write back.

It was that particular moment, along with unusual pink lights, that alerted Pascal of Vidcund's and Ripp's presences. Half of Vidcund's fate had turned completely pink, but it was an improvement from his entire body turning magenta as the world got engulfed by glitchy pink textures.

"You might be wondering why I gathered you both here today," Ripp said, gesturing to the pink stuff around Vidcund, "It's because you two need to sort your shit out before we're forced to relive our worst memories for another week.

"...I had a lot of time to think while being held prisoner by SCIA," Pascal continued, "I was scared for Tycho, and that fear made me think irrationally. It wasn't fair of me to punish you for something you couldn't control, especially when you were also uncomfortable with what happened."

The glitchy pink texture surrounded Vidcund dispersed into shards as he and Ripp both stared at Pascal with the same startled expression, lingering as everything began to glow pink. Pascal caught a brief glimpse of someone peeking at them behind a tree, who removed her mask to smile at him before disappearing.

"I'm sorry for lashing out on you as well," Vidcund said, after a long period of silence, "I did plan on telling you and Lazlo about it, but he beat me to it first. But I think it'd be best if we remained out of each other's lives."

"Are you still upset?"

"Obviously! Do you think one conversation is going to get rid of the fact that you nearly left me to rot on the streets? If it weren't for A*** and Melony, I would've died!"

Vidcund took a deep breath as Ripp patted him on the back in a feeble attempt to calm him down.

"And even if we did choose to forgive each other," Vidcund continued, "There's always going to be that 'what-if' in the back of your head. You're never going to fully trust me."

"I know," Pascal said, sighing, “Maybe I’ll never stop being paranoid. Maybe your destiny hasn’t occurred yet, and maybe I’ll never be able to trust you again. But I’d like to at least try. I don’t want things to end like this.”

The pink shards were beginning to fade as Vidcund looked down at Pascal with a puzzled expression, his right eye twitching underneath pink-tinted glasses before tears began streaking down his face.

"Yeah," he said, sniffling, "I'd like that too...Let's give this another try."

---

And as I stand behind a tree and watch their reconciliation, I can't help but wonder...if someone like him, branded as unforgivable, was able to receive forgiveness for what he's done...

Is there hope for me, too?

[6okuto]

— cove with a pregnant reader

i know a couple people wanted to see this so,, :muscle: i got u.

cove: many fears. [pregnant reader] Even More Fears.

never in your life have you seen this man worry about you more than at the beginning (and nearing the end) of your pregnancy

he's going to do whatever you want. he develops a sixth sense for knowing when you want something but don't want to ask

you want a massage? you can have a massage. you're getting really specific cravings? that's okay he'll go across town to find what you want. you're feeling sick? he's helping you to the washroom and holding any hair while rubbing your back before getting water for you. you want to take a bath together? that sounds lovely, he'll get the water running, just wait there.

doesn't let you do things especially late into your pregnancy. you need to sit him down and tell him you're still capable of functioning more than 40% of the time, albeit slower and more careful

he most Definitely calls his mom for help. like, So many times. she's never mad because It's Cove and it's so endearing how he calls about the smallest things

also his dad. cliff has spent hours on the phone with his son sharing stories and reassuring cove that he's going to be just fine

don't get me wrong though, he definitely spends a lot of time alone researching things himself. what you should be eating, any exercises that might help, how to help deal with back pain, etc.

i'm talking parenting books, youtube videos, those mommy blogs, everything

sometimes he knows things even You didn't think/know of. he takes pride in it

i don't know if you guys have seen it/know what i'm talking about but cove would do the thing where he stands behind you and lifts/holds your belly so you can rest for a little bit

the conversations you have about baby names are so...interesting. they happen sporadically when one of you sees something that inspires a name. i'm not saying poppy is a name put on the table but also yes i am?

the both of you start to shop for baby clothes and he almost breaks down in the middle of the store when he sees the shoes. he compares them to his hand and he turns to you with this look of awe/despair. "they're so small. their feet are so tiny, oh my god."

starts panicking over how he's going to handle or hold a baby over it. please help before a worker comes over to check on him

definitely gets lots of toys and At Least one outfit that says something about waves or surfing

there's a lot of evenings where you both get sappy and emotional over the thought of your future child. he talks about all the things he wants to do, how he wants to take them to the beach, how he wants to let them visit their grandparents/relatives whenever it's possible, how he's scared he'll mess up somehow

you have to remind him that parenthood isn't going to be easy, but you have each other and you'll do your best. also that he's going to be a Great dad,, look at how much he cares for you and his baby already

the first time he feels your baby kick he cries

he definitely lays and talks to your belly . it's adorable

^ one time he thought you were asleep and started rambling about how you two met and how much he loves you

whenever he comes home, no matter how long he's been gone, he says hi to you then bends down to do the same to your baby. he asks how you're doing, saying he missed both of you

he. he watches you waddle around and has to stop himself from grinning and hugging you

he tries really hard to cuddle. it doesn't matter how, he's going to figure it out because nothing will take it away from him (except maybe you getting a pregnancy pillow)

goes with you to every appointment. if for some forsaken reason he can't, 1) he's upset and 2) he makes sure to pick you up and check on you after it's over

literally so so kind and understanding of any mood swings or rough times. he's reminding you to eat and sleep, takes care of things that might be making you anxious, and is always there if you want to talk or vent and never invalidates your feelings :[ he doesn't know what you're going through, really, but he tries his absolute best to make it as easy as possible

[lokisprettygirl]

Hit me Baby, One more Time (Wrestler Loki x Female Reader)

Read chapter 54 here

Chapter 55

Summary : Day Before his fight with Thor, insecurities creeps in again for Loki but you're there. You're always there.

Warning : 18+ Some smut (The usual), Mention of child abuse, past abuse

"Do you feel that the differences between you and your brother is because of your father's different behavior towards you two or you feel that there's more to it?" His therapist Amaya laid a question on him and he thought about it. 

"You'd never be thor" "You pathetic swine" "Look how weak you are, you'll never be my son" "You should be ashamed of your existence Loki" "Thor is my only son, my only pride. You're a disgrace" "You never should have been born" 

Thousands of things ran through his head as he thought about her question. Odin's voice rang in his head, they were always there taunting him, comparing him, ridiculing him. But that's not the reason why he hated Thor, he counted on him to be his big brother when they were kids.

"That's..that's not the reason..he was older than me and he knew everything. He never protected her" Or him. Loki answered her and he watched her scribbling something on her notepad

"Tell me more about that" she gave him a kind smile and he looked to the side before he continued.

"He watched my mama suffer, he watched me suffering and never said a word to his dear father. Not a single word, he just believed and did everything Odin wanted him to do, we..were supposed to be a family right? Never felt like I was a part of it, I was always a burden" she nodded her head and then she asked him another question.

"If your brother was here right now what would you say to him?" 

When he stepped out of the therapist's office he was angry, angry at Thor, not for the things he did but for the things he didn't do. Tomorrow, he was fighting him tomorrow and that made him frustrated, a part of him just wanted to disappear. Another part wanted to make him suffer brutally. But his biggest fear was that he'd lose and prove Odin right. His own thoughts scared him at the moment and he just needed one person so he drove straight towards your house. His house. He wanted to live in that place with you but healing was a long journey and he felt so messed up right now.

When he rang the doorbell on the door, you opened it instantly, he just saw you two days ago on his birthday, but it wasn't enough it would never be enough. You smiled as you looked at him, he had a black leather jacket on, his hair in a ponytail, he looked so cute but he also looked as if he'd cry just by your mere touch. You were all dressed up for work probably, a tucked in black shirt with a pencil skirt. He felt awful as he was there at the wrong time.

"I..I forgot about your work timings, I'll see you later birdy" he turned around but you grabbed his arm quickly. You knew something was bothering him, you could read it all over his face and you won't let him be alone with his thoughts when he felt like that.

"Come in okay?" You said softly so he turned to you and you pulled him in slowly, then you closed the door. You got closer to him and wrapped his arms around your waist because he seemed distant for some reason then you cupped his cheeks so you could pull his head down, the heels you wore managed some of the height difference. He placed his forehead on yours, your fingers scratched the nape of his neck soothingly.

"You'll be late..I uhh..I should go" 

"Shhhh it's okay, it's okay little baby..look at me" your gentle voice made him feel even more vulnerable.

When he looked into your eyes, they were filled with tears so you pecked on his lips. 

"What's wrong? Talk to me okay, just because you're getting therapy, that does mean you can't share your feelings with me" you mumbled softly and he instantly put his head down on your shoulder. Then you heard him sniffling. So you caressed the back of his head with one hand while the other one went inside his jacket to rub his back. 

"Is Frigga okay?" You asked him softly and he nodded, that made you feel a little relaxed.

"It's okay..it's okay baby I'm here okay? Let me take care of you, can I do that?" You asked him and he nodded again. You placed your hands inside his jacket and took it off his body. It was really hot out there and he was sweating, his t-shirt was soaked. 

"Come here baby" you grabbed his arm and walked him towards the couch then you made him sit down. You got on his lap instantly and placed lots of forehead kisses to comfort him, he hummed at each one of them. 

"What's bothering you hmm?" You whispered softly and he looked at you.

"You have to work.. I'll talk to you later" 

"I'll call in sick, Don't worry about that..talk to me my love" you peppered kisses all over his face then you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. 

"I'm..I'm just thinking about tomorrow" he mumbled like a child so you cupped his cheeks to make him look at you.

"Are you nervous baby?" 

"Yess" he nodded and his eyes teared up again. He never admitted to being nervous before,not to you, not to anyone. He hated feeling physically vulnerable, and he hated proving Odin right. 

"That's okay..it's okay to be nervous, nothing to feel ashamed of, I used to cry in the bathroom the day I had to perform on stage, the stage fright would hit me in the worst of moments, when you're vulnerable like that and there are thousands of people watching all over the world, it's bound to make you nervous" 

"I feel so weak" he sniffed again and the sight broke your heart. You could see that he was coming to terms with his past and the abuse he faced by the hands of Odin, but healing was a long process and nobody said that it would be breezy. 

"No..no ..no no no no you're not weak, you look at me. You're the strongest man I have ever known, I have never seen someone who has been through so much, more than a person should ever suffer in such a short time and still be able to do everything you did, you made yourself Loki. All on your own, you had nobody and you didn't let it deter you. You're so strong. Not Just physically but mentally too, my strongest little baby" he kept sniffling while you tried to comfort him. Every Time He'd look down you'd make him look at you. Your eyes conveyed more than your words.

"But what if I lose tomorrow?" He asked you, you didn't know what he was expecting from you to answer. You feared about that too, just like Loki, Thor has never lost a fight either, the last fight he lost was against Loki himself which even he admitted that Thor lost it on purpose.

"If you lose, then you lose, you win some, you lose some, that's how it is. It wouldn't change how strong you are or how good you are, but you're not going to lose, you're going to win this fight okay, I believe in you and you're already a winner for me no matter what the result is" he wrapped his arms around you tightly and allowed you to caress him and comfort him. That's what he needed right now, just for you to hold him and tell him that he'll do fine, that you believed in him.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to burden you with this, I was doing good and now I feel as if I'm two steps behind again" he mumbled meekly

"Hey? You never ever apologize to me again for sharing your feelings okay? Can you do that for me?" you asked him and he nodded his head again.

"And if you ever feel as if you have taken two steps behind then you know I'll just hold your hand and help you move ahead again right?" 

He looked at you all dumbstruck as you said that. He allowed your words to reach him, to get in, truly get in. All his life he felt empty, he didn't know why he got this life only to suffer so much. But looking at your face right now as you whispered soft words to him, loving him at his worst, he just knew that he got blessed the day he saw you the first time, you changed him in more ways than one. You changed him for good, helped him get better. Maybe you were a form of apology from the universe itself that it put you in his path that day.

"I love you Birdy, I didn't think I even was capable of even loving someone as much as I love you" he kissed you softly, just a soft innocent kiss and it made you smile.

"You're capable of doing anything and everything you'd ever want. You have so much love Inside you and I'm here to take all of it if you'd give me, I love you so much little baby" you kissed him this time and he just sat there quietly, he felt okay, sharing his thoughts with you and having you encourage him did make him feel better.

"Do you feel better? Lighter?" You pulled his hair out of the ponytail and both of your hands went around his cheeks so you could scratch the back of his head again with your fingers.

"Yes thank you" he smiled a little and that made you feel better. 

"Let's get you out of this shirt okay? I have your shirts in the closet, I'll get that" 

"I'll do it, can I get a cup of tea darling?" He asked you and you smiled at him

"Ofcourse, I'm glad you came. I was missing you like crazy" you kissed his forehead and then you got off his lap to go to the kitchen. He went to the bedroom, and took one of his tees out and took a shower before he changed. When he came out he looked at the laundry bin, it had your clothes but also his clothes, that meant that you must sleep in his clothes at night. He missed sleeping with you, he missed waking up to your beautiful face.

He was about to leave the room when he heard your phone ringing so he picked it up from the bed. It was Jackass, he almost forgot that the asshole existed. Why was he calling you? Were you guys in touch? Did you talk to him often? Anxiety creeped in again as he thought about it. He took your phone and went to the kitchen to ask you about this. He trusted you to be his, he didn't need an explanation but if Jack was bothering you, he definitely needed to know that. 

"Babeee, why is he calling you?" You looked at him confused as he asked you, then you walked closer to him and as soon as you saw Jack's name you shook your head.

"I'm sorry, he's in LA, and he wants to meet, he texted me, I didn't respond so now he's calling me..oh let me call my manager" you called in sick and then placed your phone on the countertop. You felt his eyes on you as you poured the tea in two cups, you gave one to him but he instantly placed it aside, and pulled you closer. 

"Why didn't you tell me that he was bothering you?" You placed your cup next to him and hugged him to calm him down. You wanted to but he had alot on his plate already and the last thing you'd want to do is add more to it.

"It's not a big deal baby, you have alot going on already and I didn't want to add to it, he's just being a nuisance, ignore him okay?"

"It is a big deal, you take care of me but you won't let me do the same?" 

"I want to..I just..I should have told you I'm sorry, just don't stress about it please" you got on your tippy toes, you took the heels off since you didn't have to go, and he leaned down as soon he saw you raising up to kiss him. He won't let anyone bother you or hurt you anymore, not Thor, not your mother or his, not Jack. He won't let anyone even stress you out like that. 

"Just let me know when someone is bothering you alright, I know you're a big girl and all but you're mine and I protect what's mine" you giggled and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Am I a big girl daddy?" You bit on your lips and he instantly picked you up and made you sit on the countertop, you wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer. Then he kissed you passionately, god you have missed him, it's been just two days since you got a taste of him but you just miss being fucked by him.

He didn't want to torture you or himself, he had to restrain himself from fucking you on the night of his birthday. He unbuttoned your shirt and his hands unzipped your skirt quickly, it just felt right in the moment. He needed you and he was going to take you. As soon as you felt his tongue in your mouth, you knew you won't be able to hold back anymore. You wanted him desperately, there wasn't a single night since he made you leave where you didn't miss him by your side, in your bed, inside you. You missed him in every fucking way.

"Want me take you to the bed or the couch?" He asked you and you shook your head

"Here ..right here please..right here..right now" he smirked as he heard your sensuous voice. 

"You dirty little thing" he pulled your panties down, and dropped it on the kitchen floor. Then he lowered his trousers as well, his cock stood proudly, but he had to make sure you were ready, that your cunt was ready for him. He spread your legs apart and fingers rubbed against your lips and that made you moan loudly. Your wetness coated his fingers quickly, this wasn't going to be long hours of lovemaking, but a short quick love fuck. You both needed this more than you needed to breathe.

As soon as he thrusted inside you, he felt your fingernails digging on his shoulders, he grunted as he felt the tightness of you walls.

"Ohhh god ..baby" your lips latched to his neck while he moved his hips in and out of you slowly. You stared at the blurry reflection of his bare behind in the glass door of refrigerator, the sight of him pumping in and out of you seemed so erotic. 

"I don't know how I went so long without your warm succulent cunt but I'm never ever doing it again" his chest heaved up and down as he started to breathe heavily, all that stamina but you melt him into a puddle as soon as he gets you wrapped around him.

"Mmm never?" He held the back of your neck with one hand while the the other one stayed encircled around your waist as he fucked in and out of you. 

"Never darling, tell me that you're mine only" you didn't know where it came from, maybe he was in his feels about Jack but you'd remind him again and again that you belonged to him since he laid his eyes on you. You'd scream it from the top of your lungs if you have to. 

"I'm yours baby, loki I'm yours, all yours..oh god I'm gonna cum..fill me up please" oh he loves hearing that. He finally have someone to call his own, you have seen him at his absolute worst, you know every thing about him and you belong to him still. The thought filled him with immense joy. Whatever sadness he felt while he drove towards you was gone now. 

"Oh pretty love, cum with me now..give it to me" Few calculated hard thrusts and his cock rubbing mercilessly against your sweet spot did you in, you felt him cumming inside you at the same time. No words were said after that, you both relished in the sweet sensation together. You had your eyes closed after your orgasm hit and when you opened it finally, he had his eyes on you. 

His pretty pretty girl, he has never known someone so pure before he met you. After he cleaned you both up, you ordered lunch and then you both got into the bed for an afternoon nap. He hid himself between your chest while you caressed him until he fell asleep, when you woke up he was getting dressed to leave. 

"You're leaving?" You asked him as you watched him putting his jacket on. He walked over to you as soon as he heard your voice.

"I was going to wake you up Birdy" he kissed your lips softly then you felt him on your forehead.

"Mmm I know..how's little birdy I miss her" he smiled as he thought about her

"She's good, growing up so fast, I swear she has grown in just three days" you giggled and brushed his hair with your fingers.

"Mmm that's how birdies are..how's Frigga doing?" 

"She's good, she seems fine or acts like she is.. probably worried sick about tomorrow" 

You hummed in response, you wondered what it must be like to watch her two sons being so against each other. Ever since you found about her being the reason why thor was being an ass you couldn't help but wonder if this was his way of getting close to Loki. If that's the reason he challenged him to fight. 

"Everything will be alright I promise" he kissed you one more time, before he left. As soon as he got home he called you and sent you a picture of birdy on Instagram. That instantly brightened your mood.

...

"Focus, Thor is not like other fighters, his precision in the ring is nothing like I have ever seen before" Sam screamed at Loki as they trained for the last time before the big fight. Loki just shrugged in response. The mighty Thor ofcourse.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" 

Loki smiled at Sam when he heard the question. He wasn't ready all those years ago when they were just kids, and maybe he wasn't ready when they fought few months ago but he had learned to be better, he was confident now, and he had someone believing in him.

For the first time in his life he truly was was ready to fight Thor. 

➖➖➖➖➖💚💚💚💚➖➖➖➖➖

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[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 02 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

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{Vikings Masterlist}

×

A Christian Among Vikings

It takes two days to share your entire life with the Queen of Kattegat, but she did seem interested after you started. Mostly on the parts where you give voice to everything you couldn't stand. The lies and hypocrisy. That, Aslaug loves, and you have no trouble telling her that. It feels good to say all these things without the fear of being caught.

So, since today you'll finally go to the feast they're still having for the third night on a roll to celebrate this year's raid, you relax in the tub, the warm water slowly getting colder, a sign that you'll have to leave soon.

You're stretching your legs, watching the water drops rolling from your ankle to your knee, before falling back into the water. “Aslaug, where's the–��� The voice makes you turn your head at the door, pulling your legs down to the safety of the water. Ragnar stands there, wide eyes and mouth half-open. “I thought this was my wife.”

“Well, it isn't so go away.” Thanks to the distance, you know he can't see anything, but even so, it makes you uncomfortable.

“I live here, do you know that?” He snaps back and you roll your eyes.

“I don't care. I'm not your wife so get out.”

“This is my–”

“Get out!” You raise your voice, throwing water at him. “Or I'll scream for help.” You're not scared of Ragnar, and you don't think he'll try anything. But you know him enough to know he's a teaser, and he loves putting people in uncomfortable positions.

He raises an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders. “Then do it.”

Squinting your eyes, you move closer to the edge, making sure he won't be able to see anything. “Help!” You shout, trying not to laugh. The situation is quite funny, and, if he wanted to try anything, he'd already moved. So you decide to play along. “Somebody help me!” When you hear footsteps, you smirk victoriously. But, when another man comes in, the smile fades, and out of instinct, you cross your arms over your chest.

“What's going on here?” The guy asks, confused as hell, furrowing his eyebrows at you and then at Ragnar.

“Princess, this is Hvitserk, my son, who so bravely came to your rescue.” Ragnar starts, pacing around to the other edge of the room. “Hvitserk, this is (Y/N). Aslaug has been keeping her in here I have no idea why.” He sounds a little pissed, but you don't mind him in the back, your eyes focused on his son.

“Hi.”

“Would the two of you just leave?” Now you're annoyed, running a hand through your soaked hair. Relieve washes over you when Aslaug comes through the door, her eyes quickly finding her husband.

“What's going on here?” She mutters, and through the corner of your eye, you see Ragnar already moving.

“Just came to take this.” He answers, showing her something you can't see, right before leaving, grabbing his son's arm and pulling him along.

“Your husband is a complete idiot.” You say, relaxing once again.

“I noticed.” She gestures at the dress she brought you, laying on a chair. “Get dressed. I'll do your hair like a Viking woman and you'll join the feast tonight.”

Doing as she says, you put on the dress, which is different from everything you ever wore. The fabric is strong, yet beautiful, in a wonderful shade of blue with golden details that look like flowers. Aslaug braids your hair, way too patiently, and when she's done, you do look like a Viking. She even teaches you how to paint your eyes, and you wonder why she changed so much in these two days. As you wait for her to get ready, with the aid of her slaves, you decide to ask.

“Why are you being so nice to me now?” Playing with the tip of one of the many braids, you rest your back against the chair you're seated on. “When I got here I thought I'd end up living with that Lagertha.”

“Because it's more than rare to find a Christian I don't find stupid.” Dismissing the girls, she stands up. You're not entirely sure that was a compliment, but you decide to take it. “And I have the feeling, mostly after everything you told me, that this was most of a rescue than a kidnapping.”

She has a point. “It certainly does.”

“Now, come. Today I want to introduce you to the town.”

“Introduce me?” Following her, you wonder what that's about.

Aslaug doesn't answer, and it doesn't take much until you start hearing the feast. How long do these things last? Is the third day and it doesn't seem like anyone is tired. The moment the Queen enters, some heads turns, and, as she stands right before her chair, a silence starts to fall. You stat in the back, waiting to see what's going on when she gestures for you to come. Taking a deep breath, you move to stand next to her.

Many eyes lie on you. Probably all of them. You can identify hate, curiosity, disgust, indifference... And other things you can't quite place. At least you look like one of them... It must be of some help.

“People of Kattegat, this is Princess (Y/N), daughter of King Ecbert of Wessex,” Aslaug speaks, loud and clear. “She was brought here by my husband, and now will live among us.” That gets some people talking. They're not particularly excited about a Christian among them... You can't blame them. Your people kill them, and they kill your people back. They're like natural enemies. “I'm aware of the fact that you have no affection for her kind, and neither do I. So that's why she will tell you what she told me.”

A breath gets caught on your throat, and for a moment you feel like you're back home, forced to admit your sins, even though you haven't committed any. You've been in situations like this, but now, it's different. You can speak. You can let out the very thoughts that once had you imprisoned, confined to your chambers for days no end. Maybe they'll understand, unlike people in Wessex. Aslaug did. “Tell what?” You ask because you did speak great too many things with her. You have no idea where to begin.

“Tell them about your relationship with your faith.” She seems so secure, unbothered by how some men and women look so angry at this whole thing.

Taking a deep breath, you look ahead, eyes scanning through the room for any kind face... But it takes a long time until you find that Ragnar son who went to your rescue, Hvitserk. He doesn't look like he hates you, so you focus on him. “I have no love for the Catholic faith.” You start, stepping forward. “Since I was little, they've been telling me you worship false gods, made of stone, wood, iron, and silver. But they do the same.” Hvitserk furrows his eyebrows as if asking something. “My father himself spent hours repeating prayers for a cross made of gold. They accuse you of doing the same things they do.” If your older brother heard this, you'd be whipped, probably. “They're all hypocrites, punishing and condemning people for the same sins they commit, over and over again, and that I could never accept.” Chuckling, you move your eyes from Hvitserk, noticing how some angry faces are now... Inquisitive. “I was told you're all murderers, but so are they. So what if you come home covered by the blood of your enemies? Isn't that what a battle is? If it was me on the battlefield, I'd rather kill a hundred men than die by their hands.” The hall erupts on yells and shouts, hands being raised. It takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you're scared they heard enough, and decided to end your life right here and now. But the yells are from... Praising, approval. “And, as Ragnar Lothbrok as my witness, I'd rather face death than go back into the life I had there. If I can even call that a life.”

“That's true.” Bjorn raises his voice, coming from behind some men. “The moment she learned her father was dead, he stood before my father, ready to face her fate. I've never seen a Christian girl do that.”

“Don't forget about how she stood in the pouring rain with that idiot over there,” Ragnar says, pointing out his hand at Floki, who's standing on a chair or something, at the very back, watching the commotion.

Floki giggles, tilting his head at Ragnar. “Even though she can't swim. And don't get me wrong, I'd still rather she fell off to the mighty waves than have her here with us.”

“Don't say that Floki,” Aslaug warns, moving to sit on her chair. “I plan to make a Viking out of (Y/N) since she's more than eager to leave behind everything she once knew.”

“No doubt.” You mutter, wondering if this is it, if you can go sit down somewhere.

“What about that man, Edward?” Bjorn asks, coming to stand before you. He's so damn tall. You don't think you ever met a man this tall before. “You said something about a marriage.”

“Oh, that.” Rolling your eyes, you shrug your shoulders. “My father would have me dragged down the aisle in chains if it was necessary since the political implications of the union were... Delicate. But you guys decided to show up and ruin his plans. Thankfully.”

“Was he that bad?”

“The most disgusting man I've ever met in my life, so, as the Queen said herself a few moments earlier...” Turning at the people once again, you sigh. You don't expect to be accepted by everyone here, you just hope they won't hate you. Not so much, at least. “This was more like a rescue than a kidnapping.”

“Well, now that you know our new resident, I must make something very clear,” Aslaug speaks up, her voice rising above everyone else's. “(Y/N) is a free woman.” She takes a cup from the small table set next to her chair, spinning it in her hand, not bothering to look up from it. “Whoever touches her loses the balls, the hands, and the tongue... As a start.”

You giggle, thinking she's joking, but by the way, the silence persists for quite a long time, you understand that was no joke. And that's very good. That will surely keep them away from you.

“Well, let's celebrate!” Ragnar shouts, and everyone sets in motion again.

You're not sure where to go, so you find a table that's half-empty to sit down, taking a cup and filling it. Being isolated for two days with Aslaug didn't really help you being sociable, and it does feel like you're from two different worlds now. Because that's the truth, even though you're dressed like them. There's an invisible barrier keeping everyone distant, and not only for what Aslaug just said.

“Hey there.” Someone says as they settle down by your side. Hvitserk glances at you, kindly smiling. “Sorry about earlier. Heard a girl screaming, thought something bad was happening.”

“Well, something bad was happening. Your father was annoying me to death.” Taking a few sips from your drink, your eyes find that man again, Ivar. He's seated on Ragnar's chair, chatting with his mother. As if being called, he stares straight at you, suddenly angry.

“I see you already met my little brother,” Hvitserk mutters, and only then do you notice he had followed your gaze.

Clearing your throat, you look away. “Not really. But by the looks of it, he hates me.”

“I wouldn't say he hates you. Ivar is just... Not really fond of the idea of–”

“Of a Christian girl among us.” The voice comes from the head of the table, and when you raise your eyes, you see the man himself. But this time, you don't let his eyes pull you. Somehow, you manage to distract yourself. “You know you're only here because my mother wants to turn you into a Viking.”

“I'm not interested in being anything else than myself.” Drinking what is left on your cup, you sigh. “Haven't had the chance since I was born.”

“Do you really expect anyone here to believe you didn't like being a princess?” His tone is mocking you, a fake pity expression on his face.

“Being a princess in England might be fun if you just do as everyone says, no questions asked.” For some reason, you're pissed. Ivar pushed some button that got you suddenly annoyed, so you stand up, bending over the table to get the jar and refill your cup. But before you can reach it, Ivar takes the thing, drinking straight from it, some of the liquid dripping on his chin. Sighing, you squint your eyes at him, a humorless laugh escaping your lips.

“Here.” The voice gets your attention, and when you turn at him, you see Bjorn filling your cup again. “This one's better anyway.”

“Thanks.” Sitting back down, you give Ivar one last glance before taking long sips.

“Are you going to live here?” Bjorn asks. “Or are you going to live with my mother after all?”

“I'm staying.” Nodding, you look at him. His mother is the most famous shieldmaiden in the world, a skillful fighter. Also Ragnar's ex-wife, reason why Aslaug can't stand her. “The Queen already helped me settle on my chambers.”

“That's good.” He smiles, and a man pushes his shoulder quite violently. Bjorn turns to face him, cursing, but soon enough bursting into laughter.

Ignoring the two men, you look down at your cup, now almost empty again. Music starts playing suddenly, and it doesn't take much for people to start dancing. It gets louder as the minutes go by, and Ragnar and Floki stand on your table, moving around and laughing, kicking everything out. Your eyes follow the whole commotion, standing up and stepping away from the table when they get a little too close. But you don't mind. You've never seen people acting so... Crazy. So happy. And you can't stop smiling, seeing as other people join them.

“I bet you never saw anything like that,” Hvitserk says, raising his voice a little to make himself heard. “I know how boring the feats are in England.”

“This is so much better.” Ragnar jumps to the ground, but one of his legs get caught in between the bench and the table, making him fall. But on the next second, he's up again, a smile on his lips. “My brother would have a heart attack if he ever saw this.”

“Aethelwulf?”

“Yeah.” Someone bumps on your back, making you almost fall. But Hvitserk holds you up, and he seems quite confused to find you laughing. “What? It's alright, I like it. At least this chaos is real, people aren't faking it.” As your eyes move through the hall, you find Ragnar, behind this weird curtain made of leather. You didn't even know he left. “What's that weirdo doing over there?”

“He's observing.” Hvitserk answers, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “From back there, he can see who's sleeping with who. Who's not sleeping with who anymore, who may be plotting something to put him in a dangerous position.”

“Smart guy.” Nodding to yourself, your attention is stolen by the crowd, that starts moving outside, shouting something you can't really understand. “What's going on?”

“Someone's gonna fight. Come watch.” Hvitserk helps you walk among the people, all the way to the beach. Torches came out of nowhere, illuminating the night. Everyone seems oddly happy for this to be about a fight, but Hvitserck wasn't wrong. On the sand, the two men pace around each other, shouting, cursing.

“What's this about?” It happened out of nowhere, and you're not sure how serious this is. The warriors are clearly pissed at each other, but the public is cheerful. This is when you feel how new and different this culture is. Something like this would never happen back at Wessex, and it will take a while for you to get used and understand how things work here. It's a shock, a sudden impact.

“They're both in love with the same woman. She claims she loves both, but they won't share.” Hvitserk explains, as someone passes him a torch, which he holds up high. “The one who survives gets to be with her.”

“Damn.” You mutter as the two men start attacking each other. You've never seen an actual fight. Girls aren't allowed on the battlefield, mostly not a princess. The only glimpses you had were from soldiers training, and it was nothing compared to this. This is violent, powerful, and you can't help but be impressed by their skills. Of course they're good. They're Vikings, a freaking force of nature, they had told you back in England. It's impressive how they keep getting back up, even after so many wounds. Cuts, punches, everything.

A particular loud shout coming from the crowd gets your attention. It's Ivar, seated on the sand, eyes shining and a bright smile on his lips. He's enjoying this. Everyone is, actually. And once again, as if you called his name out loud, he turns to look at you. And somehow you know exactly what he's looking for. Fear, desperation. He wants to see if you're scared.

But... You're not.

Every single person here is joyfully yelling, and those two men choose their fates. They're not being forced to it, it was their decision, as it was yours to stand up, neck exposed, ready for the ax Ragnar was holding. They're choosing to face death, fearlessly.

Then, your eyes aren't on Ivar anymore, but following the men's every move. It doesn't take much for you to gasp and yelp when one or the other successes to throw a blow. You feel like a savage, laughing at the thought of what your father and brother would say if they saw you now.

When the tallest man, with long dark hair, falls dead, the crowd goes insane. The victorious raises both his hands, still holding an ax. A woman comes from the crowd, hugging and kissing him. “That's insane.” You chuckle, running a hand through your braided hair. “Teach me.” The request comes out suddenly, and you don't even give it much thought.

“Are you sure about it?” He asks, looking down at you. Hvitserk is being nice to you, and that's a surprise.

“I mean, I could never be a shieldmaiden but... I'd like to know how to defend myself.”

“Well, I've got nothing to do tomorrow, so I guess we could start.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you smile. “Thanks. You're the quickest and... Probably the most real friend I've ever made.”

“Yeah, you'll need someone to help you out around here until you get the hang of things. Ragnar gave me this task.”

“Oh...” Looking down, you start walking back to the hall, following Hvitserk's pace. Maybe it was a little stupid to expect him to be so nice to you. “You don't have to. I will get used to things on my own.”

“I didn't mean it like that.” He quickly responds, leaving the torch on some post along the way. “You're pretty cool, actually. For a Christian. You've been a good friend so far.” He gives you a glance and a smirk. “And I don't have to obey my father, you know.”

Blushing a little, you giggle. “Thanks again, then.”

“Now, get a good night sleep and get ready for tomorrow, I mean...” Hvitserk takes a look over his shoulder, a little too dramatic for your taste. “If my older brother doesn't mind it.”

“What do you mean?” Following his gaze, you find Bjorn staring. He doesn't seem angry, but he's not happy either.

“I think Bjorn likes you.”

“And? If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have watched the fight.” Shrugging your shoulders, you stop at the entrance of the hall, waiting as the crowd moves inside. “You've done more for me than he did tonight.”

“So you enjoyed the fight?”

“I have no idea why, or how, but I did.” Nodding, you smile again. “Now, friend, let's drink some more, and maybe I'll consider dancing.” Gesturing at the hall, you both walk in.

The warmth is welcome, and you soon find your way back to the table. But, as you sit down, you see Ivar again, crawling. He moves fast, talking to a man. As he moves past your table, he gives you a stare. It's different from before, but you can't read it. His eyes, like magnets, attract you in a way you didn't even know was possible. You think about waving, or smiling, but then he looks away and disappears inside the house.

“Don't mind Ivar,” Hvitserk says, and you look down at your cup. “He'll get used to your presence.”

“Let's hope he will.”

×

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[thewidowsghost]

Stay Strong, Alex - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

"Detective (L/n)," Rick sneers. "And they say there's never a cop around when you need one."

"So you know me?" (Y/n) asks, her voice soft.

"Of course," Rick answers. "I took a whole year planning this. Watching Alex, preparing," (Y/n) folds her hands together and she can hear Kara pacing behind her near the door. "I know everything."

"How did you know I was Supergirl?" Kara snarks.

"That day at the beach," Rick replies. "Before you started wearing glasses." He pauses. "I had no idea that Alex would end up playing for the other team, so to speak." (Y/n) swallows thickly. "I was just happy she showed up on the date. And then there was a crash. And Alex's kid sister walked away without a scratch," Rick says calmly, looking up at Kara, who standing over (Y/n)'s shoulder. "People at school said it was adrenaline, but, uh . . ."

"But you didn't believe that," (Y/n) finishes, her head tilting a little.

Rick nods, "I saw Kara Danvers do something amazing. And it stayed with me. I knew Kara was living in National City, and then Supergirl showed up in National City . . ." Rick chuckles. "I put two and two together. I knew it was you."

"What happened to you?" Kara asks softly. "I remember when Alex had chickenpox, I was eating lunch by myself," Kara's voice sounds a little wistful as she remembers the Earth portion of her childhood. "You came and sat with me."

Rick chuckles again. "I was fourteen," as Rick begins, (Y/n) rises from her chair to lean against the table. "And I didn't have the nice house or the perfect family that you and your sister had."

"You think we had it easy?" Kara asks skeptically. "You have no idea what Alex sacrificed for me. Or what I was going through!"

"Why?" Rick sneers. "Because you had to hide your superpowers? I was hiding bruises!" Rick is yelling now and (Y/n) had taken half a step backward. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have your mother tell you your garbage every single night?" The blonde man makes eye contact with (Y/n) and the young woman crosses her arms. "A belt whenever you had the wrong opinion? And then I found a lifeline. A father my mom kept from me. And he saved me from her and he moved me away from Midvale. And even though he was always struggling, he always made sure there was food on the table and he got me enough money to go to college. And then three years ago, the state took him from me."

"Your father killed two people," (Y/n) says, her voice low. "He confessed."

"They had it coming," Rick growls and (Y/n) straightens, her arms still folded over her chest. "And now I'm going to rescue him like he rescued me." Rick pauses. "I can't believe we're still talking about me! You have twenty-four hours and eleven minutes." Kara stiffens as Rick continues, "Come on, Kara, show us some of that rah-rah Midvale Junior High Spirit." Rick is yelling now. "Free my dad! Or your sister dies."

Kara growls, zooms over, flips the table, and pins Rick to the wall.

"Oh, you use half this much gusto in springing my dad, you'll have your sister back for game night."

"Kara! We're done here!" (Y/n)'s voice cracks.

Kara lets go of Rick and the man drops to the ground. "Hey. You know what'll be fun?" Rick asks. (Y/n) frowns, an eyebrow raising as she steps back from the man. "Finding out which one of you loves her more." (Y/n) closes her eyes momentarily, a wave of anguish washing over her. "Honestly, I wouldn't know where to place my bet," Rick sneers and (Y/n) swallows thickly.

Kara frowns at the man and after a minute, the two women go to leave the room, (Y/n) pausing for a second.

"Go Stallions," Rick grins.

Just outside the room, Kara speaks, "I'm giving him one minute, then I'm going back in there."

"No," (Y/n) says and Kara turns to look at her, Kara's eyes blazing.

"Why?" Kara snaps.

"Let him sweat it for a while," (Y/n) tells her, her voice softer than usual as she talks to her girlfriend's sister. "We got what we wanted."

"What?" Kara asks. "All we know is how he knows my identity."

"We know that Rick's pinned his whole sense of self-worth on Peter Thompson," (Y/n) explains, her voice still soft. "Thompson is the key to getting Alex back."

Kara's blazing eyes seem to extinguish as she considers (Y/n)'s words.

. . .

An hour or so later, (Y/n) and Peter Thompson walk into Rick's integration room.

(Y/n) closes the door behind Thompson.

Rick grins down at the table, before standing up after a moment.

"Ricky," Thompson says with a smile.

"Dad," Rick says, and the two embrace.

"All that time in prison, I imagined a day when . . . I could talk to you without a pane of glass between us."

"The DEO moved heaven and Earth to free this man," (Y/n) says. "We did what you wanted. Now, tell us where Alex is."

"No. No, not until my father and I are far from here," Rick says.

"You think we're stupid?" (Y/n) asks. "I showed you mine. Your turn."

"So you can toss us in Gitmo?" Thompson asks. "Not gonna happen."

(Y/n) shakes her head in disbelief.

"Maybe he gives you a piece. A little token of goodwill," Thompson adds. "You gotta give them something, Ricky. That's how it works. Just tell them where she is." Thompson narrows his eyes at his son.

"Well, you really nailed his essence, I'll give you that," Rick says.

"What?" (Y/n) asks, stepping forward, her arms crossing.

"I mean, that thing . . ." Rick says, studying his father's face. "He couldn't decide whether to hug me or not. That's vintage Dad." Rick sits back down in his metal chair.

"What are you talking about?" Thompson asks, walking up to stand beside the table.

"My father would never be playing these games. He'd be wanting to get the hell away from here and making sure that he never went back to prison," Rick's expression is one of anger. "I've been planning this for a year. Do you really think I didn't prepare for you," Rick pauses, looking up at Thompson, "Martian?"

Thompson walks over to (Y/n) and shifts back into himself.

"You're down to twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes," Rick says as he gazes at (Y/n) and J'oon. "And counting."

(Y/n) closes her eyes, pressing her index finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose.

. . .

Winn runs down the hall. "Guys! We found Alex. I found her."

Kara - who is standing with Mon-el - turns to face Winn. "You did?" Kara asks frantically.

"We got a ping from her subdermal tracker," Winn explains. "She's not far!"

. . . 

Back in the interrogation room, (Y/n) is sitting across from Rick, her hands folded and resting on the table in front of her.

"(Y/n)," Kara says, opening the door to the room. "Winn found Alex."

"What? How?" (Y/n) asks quickly, rising from her chair to look at Kara.

"I guess you underestimated my sister," Kara says, looking past (Y/n) to look at Rick. "Let's go."

But (Y/n) pauses, turning to look at Rick. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"You're delusional," Kara sneers. "And the second we get back here with Alex, you're going to prison with your dad."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Rick says with a shrug, and fear surges through (Y/n)'s heart.

Kara strides out of the room and (Y/n) meets Rick's eyes, holding the stare for a moment.

(Y/n) runs out of the room. "Watch him," (Y/n) tells the guard as she runs past him after Kara. "Hey, stop," (Y/n) tells Kara. "Malverne still thinks he's in control," (Y/n) tells her.

Kara turns, looking highly annoyed with (Y/n) at this point.

"He's not acting like someone who just lost," (Y/n) continues. "He didn't even flinch. It's like he expected this."

"No, no, no, we are not listening to that psycho," Kara says, walking closer to (Y/n). "Every minute we wait for matters."

"I - I want to get her as badly as you do," (Y/n) retorts, "but we can't punch our way out of this. We've got to get this right."

"If the shoe were on the other foot, Alex would already be out the door. I'm not waiting," Kara argues.

"You're not the only one who cares about her!" (Y/n) says, her voice rising.

"I'm going!" Kara yells over her shoulder as she strides out of the DEO.

(Y/n) swallows thickly and looks at the ground.

. . .

Kara flies across the city and lands in a warehouse, crashing through the roof.  

"Kara!" comes a faint voice.

"Alex!" Kara yells in reply.

"I'm down here!"

Kara runs over to a metal plate on the floor and bends the metal, puling up the plate. Throwing the plate aside, Kara freezes, reading the writing on the wall: 'NOW YOU HAVE FOUR.'

"Four?" Kara asks. "What . . ." There is a rapid beeping and the timer next to the computer screen flashes to four hours.

. . .

In Alex's cell, water begins rushing into the cement cage. Alex, panicking, grabs her jacket to try to plug the pipe.

. . .

"Oh, my God," Kara whispers, her voice full of fury.

. . . 

Kara walks back into the DEOs' headquarters, holding the laptop in one hand. 

Entering Rick's room again, Kara sets the laptop on the table. 

"Where is she?" Kara asks, her voice steely. 

"I told you not to go . . ." Rick says calmly. 

"Tell me where she is now!" Kara thunders, slamming her hands down on the table. 

"I gave you thirty-six hours to break my father out of prison," Rick replies. "But you didn't listen. So now, that room is gonna fill up with water in less than four hours. I think it's time you got moving."

Kara's lip quivers. "Let me talk to Alex."

Rick leans forward and presses a few of the keys and there is a beep. 

Kara turns the laptop around and leans down to talk to her sister through the computer. 

"Alex," Kara says, her voice quavering. 

"Kara! I sent out a signal, I thought you were coming," Alex says, the water up to her waist now. 

"He re-routed the IP address. He sent us somewhere else. Do you have any idea where you are?" 

"I was unconscious. I could be hours away or I could be in the city," Alex replies, a frown spreading across her face. "I don't know."

Rick leans forward. "Alex, it's Rick. It don't want to hurt you. I keep on telling your sister that. Tell her to get my father, and this can all be over. You can come home and get dry."

"No. Kara, no," Alex says, pointing at the camera. "You do not give that terrorist what he wants. You cannot let yourself be blackmailed. You cannot open yourself up to that, ever. Do you understand me? Supergirl is better than me."

(Y/n) enters the room and, seeing Alex on the screen, runs over. "Alex!"

"(Y/n)?" Alex asks. 

"I'm right here," (Y/n) replies. 

"(Y/n), I need to speak to you alone," Alex says, and (Y/n) grabs the laptop and walks out of the room. 

(Y/n) stands down one of the hallways. "Hun, everyone here is working hard and we're going to find you." 

"The water is rising fast and there are things that I need to say," Alex says, her voice cracking a little. 

"No," (Y/n) says, tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't start talking like this is the end."

"I don't want it to be, but in case that it is . . ." Alex says, pausing for a moment. 

"It's not," (Y/n) whispers. "It can't be. You're a badass, Alex. And if anyone could figure out a way to get themself out of there, it's you. You're gonna hold on until I find you," (Y/n)'s voice cracks, and a tear slides down her cheek. 

"(Y/n), listen to me, please," Alex tries to get out.

"No," (Y/n) argues desperately. "We just had our first Valentine's Day and I want to do more with you. I want more firsts. I want a first vacation. We haven't even argued about where we're gonna go yet, and it's bound to happen. Or what to name our first dog. Do you want to get a dog?" 

(Y/n) lets out a watery laugh. "See, there's a lifetime of firsts that we're going to do together. So," (Y/n)'s voice quavers, "you hold on, okay? Hold on until I get to you. You promise. Promise me!" 

"Yeah, um . . ." Alex pauses, scratching the back of her neck. "Let's name her Gertrude or we could adopt one from the animal shelter you volunteer at." 

"I -" Alex tries to say, but the video cuts out. 

"What?" (Y/n) whispers, typing furiously on the keyboard. "Alex!" (Y/n), frustrated with worry, tosses the broken laptop to the ground. 

"What happened?" Kara asked, striding over to (Y/n). 

(Y/n) meets Kara's gaze, her eyes alight with barely controlled anger. "I-I told you not to rush in. N-now you've made things worse."

"I did what I thought was right . . ." Kara argues. 

"I should have been heard," (Y/n) says, her eyes narrowing. "I should have been listened to. I'm her girlfriend."

"I'm her sister!" Kara argues angrily. 

"And you think that trumps me?" (Y/n) asks. "That you know what's right for her. I . . ." (Y/n) falters. "I got her to be herself, Kara." (Y/n)'s voice cracks. "I-I have just as much to lose as you." (Y/n)'s eyes burn. "You should have listened to me."

Word Count: 2,305 words

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[arllenn]

Staring down at Ruri- no Chime is his name, before you, you can help but feel tired. None of this is making any sense it’s all too much at once.

Bonderev, one of the dickheads behind what happened at black swan bay, had apparently been alive and living well enough to the point where he could give lessons on morality in his final moments. Imagine that! HIM a man who BLEW UP an ORPHANAGE and who had personally shot you and Renata, what he persumed to be, dead! And he had the nerve to ask you to, no- TELL you to protect his son, to not let his actions get in the way of YOU PROTECTING his SON! You’re so frustrated to the point where you’re not sure if you want to burst out into maniacal laughter, break down and cry or just destroy everything in your sight the same way that dickhead had done to you and your family all those years ago.

He had gotten everything and more. A family, a happy life, power and he was freed from all the consequences of his actions. So what about you what did you get? A permanent fear of trusting anyone because “hey I’ve already been used as a genetic experiment by the man I considered a father who then proceeded to blow me, everyone and everything I’ve ever loved to kingdom come! But sure thing nice stranger who I just met let’s be besties!” Makes so much sense. Oh, oh! What about stealing years away from your life! 20 to be exact, man you could’ve been married, had a family, gone to the capital and achieved everything you had wanted to! But no instead what you’re doing is standing here, the same 18 year old who couldn’t do anything to save your friends, your family, as you watched them die in front of you. You’re the person who even in her last moments Renata had to look after and protect. And wow doesn’t that smart, doesn’t it hurt to look down at Chime to see how weak he is, with a voice that trembles and eyes that seem one glare away from overflowing with tears, doesn’t it hurt to look at him and see the worst parts of yourself reflected back at you? The parts you wanted to bury so deep down inside that they’d be forgotten by even you. But here they are, loud and angry and demanding your attention.

Your throat closes in on itself, the hand on your hip tightens. It’s a painful squeeze that’s only purpose is to remind you that, no you can’t cry here, you can’t let anyone see you like that, you cant let yourself be like that, not here. Not in front of people who you should know, who you should trust but who you don't You've spent more time running around for them then with them. It's mean and the ugly cloying feeling that rises up from your chest makes you look back at your relationship with 'your' uperclassmen. Were you even close enough to be called comrades? friends? Most of the time it felt like you were just there. A living phone running to deliver messages from one of them to another. Running errands, throwing yourself into danger or just escaping death for what? People who, people who you- people who you... what even are they to you? Right now your upperclassmen feel miles away from you, both emotionally and physically.

Your nails were starting to dig into your skin in a way that was more then painful. You could feel the moment the skin on both your hip and the palm of your other hand broke. Pulling your lip in between your teeth you try and tune back into the conversation waiting for the right words, for your upperclassmen to throw another request at you so that you can leave, preferably go outside and beat the shit out of one of the trash cans out back before running off into danger once again to fulfill their orders like you always did. And wow, isn’t that something... even now, even now, you’re still just blindly following people’s orders, never asking questions, never saying no. What... what is wrong with you? Hadn’t you learned your lesson already? Hadn't you learned after Herzog that you don't, you can't, just do that. Last time you did that you grabbed onto a rotten rope, a horribly, disgustingly, rotten rope.

"Promsing to protect somebody so recklessly is a foolish thing... nevertheless... thank you." Chime's retelling of his life comes to an end at a convient time. It's perfect really, and so you take that moment, the lull after his thanks, to leave.

You walk out into the lobby of Takamagahara the slow calming jazz music a horrible contrast to the thoughts and feelings that are swirling inside you right now. You make it two-thirds of the way to the bar when you're met with an extremely unpleasnt sight that has you cringing for more reasons then one.

Crow and Yasha are sitting the bar, resting most of their belegirantlty drunk weight on the actual contertop instead of on their chairs. They're demanding extra achoul, Crow shouting about how he can't take something anymore who knows what. And yikes heres a thought, Chime Gen is in the VIP room right behind them, those two who, even if they are drunk out of their minds, are Chisei's aides. They find Chime or even gain the smallest inkling of an idea that he may be here and you'll have more to worry about then cleaning up the counters from their drunk cry fest. Normally you'd step in here, and take over for Quinton the poor bartender on duty who always seemed to get the worst of the costumers but you really aren't feeling up to it today.

Just as you're about to turn around to give the trashcans outside the beatings of their lives Crow says something that you can't help but stop at. "You know I like Sakura don't you?" It was a question directed at Yasha who was only able to groan out what he thought was a response. You debate staying for a second. This isn't something that you particularly care about, nor is it something that really concerns you. But it just, you just want to know a little bit more about what Sakura was like before she became another one of Herzog's victims. Its with that flimsy excuse and the puppy dog look that Quinton gives you once he notices you're there that has you stepping closer, leaning against one of the pillars that trap the bar in its own seprate space.

As Crow continues to slur his feelings out Yasha seems to sober up a bit, it's not by much but its to the point where you're no longer worried about him getting into a bar fight, more just what taxi service to call for him when he inevetably passes out and where to send him afterwards.

Yasha leans over the bar apparently ready to give Crow some type of advice when the following happens. 1) he trips and stumbles over his words "Don't.. Don't worry. We are brothers. I... will never... mock you." sweet right? It would've been if not for 2) The fact that he lurches over its a face you recgonize all too well.

"Quinton get out of the-" 3) Yasha hurls all over Quinton, your words left to hang just as Yasha's icky face goop is left to hang off of Quinton. And now you're royally pissed. Sure you were pissed before but this is the type of rage that can only be quelled by you being left alone to stew in it. Its not the emotional type of rage that you felt earlier when you wanted to smash every glass surface you came across no this is the cold type of rage that leaves nothing but apathy in its wake. because as much as you've been trying to ignore it theres so much more that you had been trying to ignore, so much more that had been pushed to the wayside that you're angry about. You look up at Quinton whose looking at you like a lost kid in a mall that had mistaken you for their mother. Running a rand through your hair you harshly scratch at your scalp. "Quinton," you let out a frustrated sigh, "Take the rest of the night off, you'll be paid regularly and you can take extra pay if you wake up sick tommorrow." You turn to him and start to walk behind the counter switching places with him.

“Right thanks a bunch, manager." He rushes out. Turing towards the staff area most likely to change into his extra uniform instead of going home covered in puke. Staring down at Yasha's mess which was covering most of his area of the counter as well as the floor under his chair your annoyance hit an all new peak. It's not the chunky kind of throw up that can be easily cleaned up, its a mush that resembles watery baby food. It's obvious that this wont be a quick clean and that both mops and floor wipes are just going to push this stuff around instead of soaking it up.

Today just can't get any worse can it? Pushing your hand back into your head you aggitatedly rubbed at your scalp, pushing and pulling at the skin there. You’re pissed off. To come back after fighting against Herzog, let’s not forget HERZOG WAS THERE TOO! HE WAS THERE, HE WAS THERE LIVING AND BREATHING, AFTER ALL THAT HE HAD DONE, HE HAD THE NERVE TO GET UP ON THE PEDESTAL THAT HE HAD CONSTRUCTED, DESIGNED AND BUILT HIMSELF THROUGH EXPLOITING THE INNOCENT TO TEST HIS FREAKY DRAGON DRUGS ON, HE HAD THE NERVE TO TALK DOWN TO YOU! ACT LIKE YOU WERE STUPID OR SOME KIND OF PREDETERMINED FAILURE! You get back from that battle exhausted , emotionally drained, and wanting to destroy yourself to find Finger leisurly drinking with Humpback! After you thought that he died you thought that you had lost another person, only for him to be there and fine. It was reliving yes, but just fucking horrible at the same time. So when you stare down at that mess and the first thing you see when you look up is the VIP room that the others are in you felt like you were justified in deciding that you would be acting on your tiredness and handing off this task to one of your upperclassmen like they do to you so often.

Actually you retract your earlier statement today can in fact get worst. Crow and Yasha have apparently had enough to drink both uncoordinatedly slamming down the money to pay for their drinks, you really don't care wether or not is correct you just want them gone, they BOTH step into Yasha's puke tracking it out the door with them. Yeah, no- you're not cleaning that up nope, nu uh, never. You blow out a heated breath and start to walk towards the VIP room careful to avoid all of the face mush on the floor. Pulling on the curtains that served as the door to enter you called out to the occupants.

"Right, sorry to ruin the fun but I just had two costumers who puked and tracked the throw-up everywhere so I need one of you to go out and clean it up preferably like," You looked down at your wrist as though you wore a watch. Truthfully it was just to hide the annoyed look on your face, "right now please." You glanced up at them Before clarifying "Chime I'm not asking you to clean it up, just focus on resting." Because as much as you wanted someone to clean that nonsense up right away you were also specially tuned into just how draining it could be to meet Herzog like that. "Cool thanks guys!" You clapped your hands together and prepared to leave the room when Luminous started complaining.

"Aw, come on no way newbie, I don't wanna clean something like that up!" He put his hand to the back of his head, a tick you had noticed he did when he was complaining, nervous or worried, "Come on can't you do it? You were already out there.." And there it was normally you would excuse that tone as just being something that made Luminous, well Luminous but today the whiny tone was grating on your ears and you were two steps away from man handling him like you used to with Anton when he was being uncooperative. The thought of him hurts. Witnessing his final moments, being there when they happened, it was both the same and different then the others. Sure you had watched all the others die but Anton's had always stuck with you in a way that was far too painful for someone who you really didn't like. And now the urge to cry was back, you felt your eyes burn with unshed tears that were a culmination of too many of your emotions to name.

Caesar brought a hand to rest on his chin tapping away at it, before he even got the chance to talk your anger had already started to peak "Luminous is right newbie, theres no reason for us to do it, you were already out there and knew the areas that needed to be cleaned. This just seems like a waste of both yours and our time." Yeah, yeah, you seriously contemplated grabbing Caesar by his ponytail and using him as a mop for a second.

"You just cleaning it up would've been more efficient." Johann unhelpfully chimed in. Yeah, maybe you would use Caesar as the mop and Johann as the counter rag.

"Yeah freshie! Everyone knows that newbies do all the grunt work, you can't expect us to do it can you?" Fingers nasally voice made you want to throttle him the more he continued to talk. Sure he may have meant it as a joke but you really weren't at the point of caring. In fact you couldn't care less about anything right now. The anger that had just been building had condensed into a vengeful apathy that demanded the souls of those around you.

Once again Caesar spoke this time however you decided to cut him off. "That's right newbie, using my authority as team leader I order you to-"

"Damn I kinda don't care," You said scratching at the back of your head in an obviously exaggerated way. "Yeah actually..." you started mimicking Caesar's earlier stance, "If you're invoking your team leader rights then I'm invoking my manager rights."

"Hey wait-" Luminous tried to interject.

"Yeah as your manager I order you all to have that throw-up cleaned within the next half an hour." A bit long of a time slot, sure, but really who cares as long as it gets done.

"No way newbie team leaders out rank managers, which means my order still stands." Caesar's stubbornness in this situation could be something to praise if not for the fact that a) you don't care and b) you're two steps away from bringing your thoughts of using him as a mop to fruition.

"Team leaders outrank managers when we're out on the field sure, but right now we're in Takamagahara not battling death servitors, which means your team leader status is moot." You made a slicing motion over your neck. "You may be the leader appointed by the college but right now that means nothing, were not fighting and this isn't reconnaissance, we're working."

"That doesn't change the fact that Caesar is team leader freshman." You can always count on Johann to speak up for what he believes in. Too bad you're not here to praise your upperclassmen but instead get them to work.

"Cool! And I'm still the manager. Right now you all are technically on the clock at Takamagahara which means what I say goes. Caesar may be the team leader and you may be my upperclassmen but that doesn't change the fact that right here right now what I say takes precedence in all matters that aren't dragon related because I'm the ma.ne.ger. " You smile your best costumer service smile and speak in the same tone that you do with costumers when you say this. Then you turn on your heel and walk out calling out behind you that "I expect to not wake up to puke covered floors in the morning! I'm going to bed good night."

And well if Finger chose not to comment on your behavior because he watched you break down in the elevator through the security cameras then that will remain with him. And if Caesar and Johann chose not to speak on it because they heard you sobbing from outside your room that night then thats something that stays between them. And if Luminous caught a glimpse of the empty look in your eyes that night when you left your room for water then he definitely held that as a close secret to his heart. Choosing not to comment on it. And if you noticed that your seniors were just a bit more gentle with you or asked for your input before sending you off on recon missions when they didn't before then you don't comment on it.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Thirty-Six: How I Did It - By Jack The Ripper

Rated PG-13: For dark themes and language

Masterlist

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

"He's here."

Crossing the Event-Horizon

That's what that's called. I've always thought that's the most beautiful way of putting it. The words have a certain ring to them.

Crossing the Event-Horizon

It means crossing the point of no return. That itself - the point of no return - could mean a lot of things. It could mean the beginning. It could mean the end. It could mean the infinite. It could mean life. It could mean death. It could mean war, peace, happiness, sadness, or anything in between.

But it means one thing for sure.

Crossing the Event-Horizon means there's no going back.

If I had to identify a beginning to the end of my story, then I think that little red dot on the map of time is where I'd stick my proverbial pin. That one little sentence, those two little words.

Yes, it was that moment, I think.

That was when it all started to go wrong.

"Felix is here," I said quietly, "He's outside."

I didn't know what I was going to do to get my revenge from that point. All I knew was, in order to kill Felix, I would need to get to him. And that meant getting away from Jack. Getting away from the son of the devil is something certainly easier said than done.

I would have to do it in a manner which would compel him and the Winchesters to come 'save me'. Of course, I could just knock Jack out and ditch him, but then I would have no back-up if things with Felix went sour. Now, if there was one thing I had learned in the five years leading up to my presence in that lighthouse, it was redundancy. It never hurts to have a safety net. Mine just happened to be a Nephilim.

"You remembered to lock the door, right?" Jack joked. I huffed a laugh. "We're safe in here. Don't worry, Marty. I'll protect you."

Isaac shook his head. "Felix has hostages. Two of 'em." He informed me.

"It's not me I'm worried about," I said to Jack, "This is a hostage situation."

The Nephilim's expression darkened and Isaac rolled his eyes.

"Personally, I say we go on the offensive. I mean, ya boyfriend here has more than enough juice to disintegrate seven dudes, right? Just waltz out there like we own the place, boom, clap, poof, TA-DA!"

"Ya know, that's actually not that bad of a plan," I said, nodding. I relayed the message to Jack who nodded.

"I could do it." He seemed confident.

"Felix brought six helpers. Have you ever dusted that many guys before?" I asked.

"I have, yes. Many more, in fact."

Well, that was... thoroughly disturbing. He seemed so calm about it. As if anyone who stood against him was nothing more than an obstacle. That could be me one day. That could be me tomorrow.

"Alright then, lead the way," I said, smirking.

Is it bad that I hoped something would happen to Jack? Nothing deadly, of course. Just something that would stop him from using his powers to take my revenge for me. Felix was mine. I needed to be the one to kill him. If Jack did it then what had been the point of it all? So, was it bad of me to hope that the quickest, cleanest solution wouldn't be the one that played out?

Was that wrong?

Did that make me evil?

Did I care if it did?

"Everything's going to be fine, Marty. You'll see." And Jack smiled at me softly and I wondered how long that would last.

I found myself standing beside him at the door to the lighthouse. My blood was boiling for a fight because this was it. Felix was on the other side of that door and in a few hours, I would be free, one way or another. Jack turned the handle.

Across the Event-Horizon.

A vampire, a ghost, and a Nephilim stepped out into the muggy night air. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but it was more the beginning of a new era, at least for me. I stayed mostly hidden beside Jack, maintaining my air of powerlessness. Isaac stepped into place at the Nephilim's other side to match. I could feel the heat of Felix's presence bleeding through the space between us. He carried with him the foul stench of burning tar and just his scent made me want to wrinkle my nose.

He stood about ten feet away from Isaac, Jack, and me, flanked by six other vampires. There was no army, not that I had expected there to be - that wasn't how Felix worked. He didn't need an army, he'd brought two hostages. Two humans knelt on the ground in front of each of Felix's lackeys, poised to die.

Felix's lips stretched into something that approximated a smile but his little ruse was transparent. I could see the hate simmering in his eyes.

"This little game of ours has been fun but a score still stands to be settled and its resolution, I do believe, is long overdue. There is no place left for you to run, child. Are you finally ready to face judgment for your crimes, Martina?" He said. A smile spread across my face to match his.

"Are you?" I challenged, leaving all human emotion out of my voice. I had been so afraid of him before, but that fear was in the past. I had come to witness true power, I had seen it up close and Felix Ashton Monroe was nothing in comparison. I wasn't afraid of him anymore.

"I suppose you'll just have to find that out," He said. "Now, I've just had a rather unsavory chat with one Samuel Winchester. Barbarians those boys are - him and his brother. I do so hope you'll remember the manners I taught you and come along like a civilized being."

"Ready when you are," Isaac reported. His Darth Vader figure was tucked safely in my boot and I counted the fact that Felix didn't know about him as one of the few advantages I had. Both Isaac and I knew that in order to keep that advantage my brother would have to suffer through being dragged behind a car via his attachment to the figure to prevent Felix from noticing his presence. We had decided a long time ago that I wouldn't face Felix alone. Isaac had protested against us facing him at all.

It was ironic, really. He was the ghost, yet out of the two of us, I was the vengeful one. See, Isaac had never sought revenge against Felix. The only person Isaac wanted vengeance against was himself. He sought punishment for his failure to keep me safe, to keep any of us safe. I suppose he got his wish. Ever since that night, Isaac remained trapped on earth with what was less of a mission and more of a duty. To keep me alive. If one looked at it properly, that was another advantage. Isaac had been formidable when he was alive, but as a vengeful spirit and with a threat on my life to power him up, Isaac was alarmingly deadly.

I didn't need to send him a discreet nod to acknowledge his words. The two of us had been preparing for this moment for five years. We knew our roles. We knew what we had to do.

"Marty isn't going anywhere with you," Jack cut in, his voice firm.

"You're Jack Kline I presume," Felix said in his usual drawling tone. His voice too reminded me of tar with the way it oozed lazily around his words. Everything about him was so clean and sharp yet somehow it was all horrifically revolting.

"I am, yes." Jack nodded. He was trying to sound confident and authoritative, mimicking Sam or Dean or Castiel. But he wasn't like them, it wasn't in his nature. Jack was too soft. Felix regarded him with a smirk, studying the boy in a calculating manner as if Jack were merely a rare antiquity he was appraising in an effort to determine its value.

"The boy born to rule..." He hummed, drawing out the words almost reverently. "Yer smaller than the rumors describe ye to be."

"So are you," Jack replied, standing up straighter and lifting his chin confidently.

"Oh, I'm afraid not." That slime ball cracked a smile. "I'm much too careful to allow for rumors of my physical appearance to drift beyond my reach."

"Really?" Jack challenged. "Because it seems like Martina found us. She told us everything about you."

Felix just laughed like he was talking to something as insignificant as a flea.

"Do ye never listen, young one? I said I don't allow rumors to drift beyond my reach. Seeing as Martina is standing directly ahead of me, I'd say she is well within my grasp. That which is mine does not escape me, laddie. She knows that better than anyone," Felix said.

"If you're so careful, then why come here yourself?" Jack asked, struggling to remain impassive. He didn't really have a poker face.

"Why, because unlike an amateur I actually quite enjoy getting my hands dirty every now and again. Especially with a vendetta this personal. Isn't that right, Martina?" Felix taunted. "Will you be coming willingly or not?"

"I said you can't have her," The half-angel forcefully growled. Jack pushed me behind him, shielding me from my creator's gaze.

"Is that so? I was unaware you had a choice in the matter," Felix accosted, seemingly amused. "Were your circumstances not clearly implicit in the situation? No? Very well! If you insist against using so much as a modicum of intelligence, I suppose I'll have to explain this situation to you. See, these dirty, pathetic excuses for intelligent life forms you see trembling before you are called humans, dear boy. I hear you're quite fond of them, and today they are playing the role which we in the criminal world usually refer to as the hostage. Now, their miserable little lives are in your hands, Jack. I am a man of my word thus I will gladly release them, alive and well, upon the prompt return of my property. However, I will not hesitate to rip them both to shreds right in front of you if I don't get my way. Do you understand that , boy?"

Jack didn't respond. He appeared torn between protecting me and saving the lives of the hostages.

"Good," Felix droned, "Now, are you ready to leave, Martina dear?"

" You don't get to speak to her ," Jack snarled. His teeth snapped together with an audible click as he threw his arm out in front of me, not quite ready to give up. Felix rolled his eyes.

"Must we really do this the hard way?" He asked, boredom evident in his tone.

"Yes."

Felix tilted his head and his gaze flicked to me. I could see a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Tell me, lassie. Have you kissed him yet?" He chuckled. Then, abruptly, his expression darkened. "Or is he just that stupid? "

"Who says I did anything?" I replied evenly. Felix huffed, rolling his eyes.

"So you have?" He turned his attention to Jack who just seemed confused. "Did you enjoy it, me boy? If you'll recall, I did wish you a very exciting first, did I not?"

"Marty, what's he talking about?" Jack asked, doubt wavering in his voice. I didn't answer him. Felix was taking a chisel to the wall I'd built in that boy's head. Not causing enough damage to send it crumbling, but planting enough doubt for it to hurt even worse when it did.

"Ah, my devious little Martina," Felix sighed, shaking his head dramatically. "You're as predictable as you are appallingly cruel."

"Guess I learned from the best," I hissed, glaring at him.

"Does that mean you'll be sensible?" He asked, raising a brow.

"You're not taking her!" My angel boy yelled. "She's mine. " A shock ran through my bones as Jack's powers ignited and his metaphysical wings spread out in front of me in a terrifying reminder of what he truly was.

Felix didn't flinch. Instead, he chuckled.

"That's cute," He said, gesturing to Jack's massive wings. Then, he straightened the cuffs of his suit and sighed. From out of his pocket he retrieved a box of matches, pulling one out and striking it. He tossed the match lazily in front of him, the reflection of its tiny flame dancing in his eyes.

The match hit the sand and flickering orange flames erupted from where it landed. The fire spread outward in a ring that encompassed the entire lighthouse, trapping me, Jack, and Isaac inside.

Jack hissed through his teeth as he watched the flames die down. They were low enough to pass easily through, so how were they supposed to contain us?

"In case ye can't tell, that there is holy fire," Felix informed, tucking the matches back in his pocket. "Any angel who finds themselves encircled by holy fire is rendered powerless, and if one tries to step through those flames, one will be instantly vaporized." He looked up again, unimpressed. "Don't get smart with me, boy . I am thousands of years your senior. I'll do with that disgusting whore whatever I damn please."

"No, you won't !"Jack yelled. His wings flared out and a blazing golden light poured from him like molten metal. The air buzzed with a divine power that burned my skin from standing so close. He was like sunlight, and it burned. I cowered away but watched in awe as Jack's veins lit beneath his skin as if gold were pumping through them instead of blood. Because that's what Jack Kline was. He was power. With a sudden ferocity, the flames leaped up, roaring around his body in an effort to keep him trapped inside. But Jack did the impossible and stepped beyond the ring with a cry of effort.

Felix did not cower away as his underlings did; he merely tilted his head with slight interest.

"How intriguing," He mused, folding his hands in front of him. "Tell me, lad. How did you manage that?"

Jack glared at Felix, his chest heaving, for I could tell that act had caused him pain.

"I'm not an angel."

Jack raised his hand, poised to snap the monsters all into dust.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Felix half-heartedly warned.

"Why not?" The Nephilim ground out.

The vampire smiled coolly. "Because these fine specimens here are not my only hostages." Of course, he had more. He was always prepared.

"Where are the others?" Jack demanded, eyes flaring.

"They're safe and sound, I assure ye. Unless, of course, you try to do somethin' stupid, such as kill me. If that's the case, and I do hope it's not, then my people have orders to do some rather unsavory things to a room full of children." Felix raised a brow, daring Jack to make a move against him.

"I can save them," Jack said, confident.

"Please! Ye don't even know where they are!" He scoffed. "Do what ye must, Jack Kline. But I really do fear for the children." Jack gritted his teeth but said nothing. He knew he was beaten. "That's better." Felix turned his attention to me. "Give up this pitiful act of yours, Martina. Come on out. You know this is checkmate."

I stepped away from Jack and stood tall, allowing the thing that had made me to see the steel in my eyes. I passed Jack and planted myself in front of Felix.

"This isn't checkmate, Monroe. This is merely check. I'll be damned before I walk into something with no way out, you know that better than anyone." My voice was calm and cool and I let it chill him. It was my real voice, not that other one I always used to put people at ease. My real voice was the one that makes people do what I want.

The corner of Felix's mouth twitched up. "Oh, yes. I know." He leaned down, his face merely an inch away from mine. "I'm looking forward to it."

"So, where's the car?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Right this way, m'dear." He gestured towards the dirt road a ways away and started toward it. I began to follow but Jack's voice made me stop.

"You're a monster," He spat, shaking with rage. His pained expression had morphed into one of hatred and his glowing golden eyes fixed on Felix.

Felix twisted around, mildly amused more than anything.

"Empathy, humanity, and morality make you weak, boy. Alas, weakness is a bitch , isn't it?" He smirked, basking in the pain he caused.

"I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!" Jack screamed. His power flared with his anger but there was nothing he could do. The absolute helplessness and hopelessness of his situation finally dawned on him. He never could stand feeling helpless.

"Hold on, I'm confused. Is that not what you do ?" Felix jeered, lifting a brow. Jack froze, his eyes going wide and puppy-like as the vampire's words hit him in the heart. His rage and power dimmed.

"W-What?" Poor thing. His voice sounded so small. He had never been made for this.

"You're the Winchester's attack dog, are ye' not?" Felix clarified. "Playing judge, jury, and executioner for anything you deem a monster."

"You are a monster," Jack scowled, clenching his fists.

"Oh, I know that!" Felix laughed. "But I like to think I've done quite a bit to earn me that title. There are, however, six quite innocent and quite human patients in critical condition at a Manhattan hospital. Six patients, who you put there. Those weren't monsters now, were they?"

Jack's face paled. Sam and Dean had said everyone was fine. Sam and Dean had lied. "H-How did- How did you-"

"That was some stunt you pulled in Times Square, boy," He mused. "Did you really think I wouldn't know about it?"

"Th-that w-was... I-it wasn't... I didn't mean to I-" Jack shook his head in denial. "It was an accident!"

"Why, of course it was!" Felix laughed. "You've not a malicious heart nor the disposition to take an innocent life. Dear boy, you are but a loaded gun for the Winchesters aim at anything they don't like."

Jack shook his head. "T-that's not true! I kill things that are evil because they hurt people." His words sounded hollow like they were something practiced. Like something that had been pounded into him.

"Do ye now? Because as I recall, you killed your own mother and ye' don't even know why. Sad, that." Felix smiled. "You kill because you were bred to; it's your purpose. It's almost cute, the son of the devil thinking he's a hero."

"I am ! I'm a hunter!" Jack insisted.

"You are not a hero," Felix sneered, shaking his head. "You are a murderer, Jack Kline. What else could ya be?" The Scottish man turned on his heel, not caring much to hear what the Nephilim had to say.

"Y-you're wrong. You're wrong about me!" That was all Jack could force out. He tried so hard to keep the tears at bay. I shook my head and turned away from him to follow my creator. "M-Marty?" Jack called out from behind me, his voice laced with desperation and confusion.

I stopped.

In that moment, I finally stripped away the final pieces of the human girl I'd made for him. The girl I'd designed for him to love. Jack would never see her again. That girl was gone now. And good riddance to her; I hoped she'd never come back.

Because she was weak.

And I was not.

Because she was human.

And I was a monster.

Because she was kind.

And I was cruel.

Because she was innocent.

And I was insane.

Because she was honest and grateful.

And I was a deceitful manipulator.

Because she was the blissful mirage.

And I was the horrid reality.

Because she was perfect.

And I never could be.

Because Jack Kline loved that sweet girl.

But that girl wasn't ME.

She never had been.

Of course, I still loved him which only made this harder. But I supposed that in a few hours that would be of no consequence. He wouldn't care. And that fact hurt like a needle to the heart, but pain only brings power to those with nothing left to lose. So, I threw my head back and I laughed as I embraced that pain, just as I did for every other cut and bruise I had ever received. That needle was one in a million and all that pain was what made me real. So, I sighed and turned back to where my angel boy stood, staring at me like some lost puppy.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I said sweetly, "Thanks for getting me this far, I don't think I could have done it without you. Unfortunately, this is something I have to do on my own. This is my last page and nobody can write it for me."

"You can't go," He said, shaking his head. There were tears in his eyes but none in mine. I smiled at him and that was the first he'd seen from me that was real, because, for the first time, Jack was talking to me.

"Why are you worried, Jack?" I was surprised at how smooth and pleasing my own voice sounded, now that I took notice. My real voice was why I was dangerous; when I used it I could make anyone do anything. But there was a reason I had been masking it for so long. It was what had gotten me into this in the first place. "I know you'll come to save me."

"What if I'm too late?" He asked, his voice breaking.

"Then I'll be there waiting for you," I answered.

"You'll die," Jack whispered. I laughed lightly, shaking my head.

"I'm not going to die today, Jack."

"You don't know that!"

"I've known for longer than you think," I said. I watched his teary, desperate expression and copied it to my memory as best as I could. It was the last time he'd look at me that way. At least for a while. "Just do me one last favor?"

"Anything," Jack promised.

"There's a girl you haven't met yet, try not to hate her when you do." I smiled and Jack nodded, trying his best to stay strong.

Then I left him there.

Alone in the sand, he watched a stranger he thought he loved going to what he thought was her death and vowed to save her from it.

Was it wrong for me to deceive him?

Did I care if it was?

***

Sam paced back and forth along the length of the lighthouse as he waited for Dean and Castiel to return. Every few minutes or so he would check his watch anxiously and run a hand through his hair, muttering something unintelligible under his breath before he resumed his pacing.

But Jack wasn't paying attention to that. He was busy staring at his hands. There were too many thoughts racing through his head for him to focus on any one of them. It had all happened so fast and there was nothing he could have done, but it didn't feel that way. Jack felt responsible. Martina was going to die because of him. It was his fault.

It was always his fault.

The door of the Lighthouse burst open, revealing Dean and Cas standing there in the driving rain that had come on before anyone had time to notice. Dean threw himself inside and Cas trailed after him, taking the time to close the lighthouse door while Dean shook the rain off like an oversized dog.

"What took you so long?" Sam was immediately questioning. "Where were you?"

"Gettin' information," Dean smirked. "It took a while, but one of the bloodsuckers squealed. What happened here, Jack?"

"I kissed Martina," Jack blurted out.

"What?" Sam, Dean, and Cas asked in unison, sharing the same disbelieving expression.

Jack hadn't meant to say it but it just sort of came out. It probably wasn't his fault, though. Jack simply couldn't stop thinking about every detail of his time with the girl in the lighthouse. He wanted to focus on what had happened after, but his brain simply wouldn't cooperate.

"I, um... I kissed Martina..." He repeated, somewhat nervously. "And I think I liked it..."

Had he liked it? Jack thought so; he was pretty sure. But something about it felt off.

Why had he kissed her in the first place? What had compelled him to do that? Jack didn't know.

His memories of the kiss were strange. He remembered clearly the emotions he'd felt, and the intensity of them. Yet, for some reason, Jack couldn't seem to recall where those feelings had come from. He had wanted to kiss Martina, but not like that... Or... maybe he had? It felt to Jack as if the decisions he'd made weren't his own. He couldn't even remember making any decisions, really. All he remembered was those feelings and acting on them. Something about that seemed off to him but Jack wasn't sure. He supposed it wasn't that out of the ordinary for him to behave impulsively. On the contrary, he tended to do that quite a lot. So, what was bothering him?

"Wait..." Dean paled, "You and Marty... You- You two didn't, like... do it in a lighthouse, right?"

Jack tilted his head, brows furrowing. "Do what?"

"C-Cas?" Dean's face whitened another shade as he turned to the seraph. "Please tell me your son didn't-" Castiel gave a long-suffering sigh.

"No, Dean. I really don't think they did anything," He said, rolling his eyes.

"Not everyone is like you," Sam added. Dean waved him off.

"Yeah, okay, but why am I the only one gettin' weirded out by this?" He exclaimed.

"Because we have bigger problems, Dean!" Sam pointed out, exasperated. Sam seemed anxious and Jack wondered what he wanted to tell them.

"Well, I think this is pretty big!" Dean insisted, turning to Jack. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I don't understand what you mean. Martina and I kissed." Jack said simply.

"Dean, seriously. I-" Sam tried. Dean held up a hand, sighing.

Dean sighed. "Jack... Y-You don't do that."

"Dean! Listen-"

"Not now, Sam!" Dean cut him off again.

"Why not? Jack asked, frowning.

"Look, ya just- Ya gotta wait a little while, man!" Dean said, running a hand over his face. "I mean, Marty's like, twelve!" He insisted. By then, Sam had decided he'd had it.

"No, Dean! She's really not!" The younger Winchester yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

"What?" Dean was shocked by his brother's sudden outburst. Sam took a deep breath to calm himself now that he had everyone's attention.

"Martina's not as young as we think she is. I-I think she's older, m-much older." Sam said, stress leaking into his tone.

"What are you saying, Sam?" Cas asked.

"I'm saying we've been played."

***

The car ride was smooth and it was the first time I'd been in a limo, so naturally, I took the comforts offered me. I stretched out across the seat, lounging as I stared out the tinted window. I didn't worry about Felix sitting directly across from me. I knew he didn't want to kill me. Not yet anyway.

"I'm curious, how did you manage to fool them?" He asked, watching me with a comfortable expression.

I shrugged. "Long story, lots of boring details."

"Indulge me," He insisted.

"Why should I?" I asked. He shrugged, mimicking me.

"I'm simply curious."

I hummed. "I bet you are."

He smirked. "Well, what can I say? It's just my nature." I nodded vaguely, continuing to stare out the window. We both knew how this would end. There was no real reason not to tell him.

"Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel..." I said their names thoughtfully, allowing the corner of my lips to twitch up into a sly smile. "They seem so simple at first glance. You have the poor unfortunate soul who lost so much yet kept his kindness, the perfect killer who spent his whole life at war, and the fallen angel who found a home. But if that was all there was then I never would have fooled them. However, for men who claim to be so faithless, there's so much they want to believe in."

"Whot do ye mean?" Felix asked, tilting his head. I smirked lazily. T

"I'll start with Sam. Sam is kind because he's damaged, but the last thing he is is a fool. When someone's good at unraveling lies, the last thing you do is give them a really big one to unravel. If you do that, then they'll cut right through and they'll figure you out easily. So, what do you do? You give them distractions. Hide puzzles within puzzles and Sam will stop to solve each one because he loves it. But how do you get him to ignore the big picture?" I stopped and grinned.

"It's easy really. All I had to do was appeal to his hate. Sam Winchester is so extraordinarily full of such raw and powerful hate, that if you simply aim it at a conceivable target, he can ignore anything else. And of course, with his hate blinding him to the truth, Sam can't figure out the lie. All one has to do to fool Sam is give him a puzzle to solve and something to hate.

"So, I made him hate you."

***

"How?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.

"It's Marty. We can't trust her," Sam said. Dean scoffed

"After all that lecturing earlier? Why the hell not?" He demanded. Sam took a nervous breath.

"Because she's been lying to us, Dean," He said. "I-I think she's been lying to us this whole time."

Dean's jaw clenched and he crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you talking about, Sam?" His voice was tight and guarded.

"I talked to Felix after I saved the little girl," Sam admitted.

"You just stood there and talked to that son of a bitch! He's a sick, messed up, psychopath! Sam, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Dean yelled. Sam held out his hands in a peacemaking gesture.

"I know w-what he is, Dean. A-and, believe me, I thought the same things you are now and I swear it was over the phone a-and all he did w-was tell me things. But-" Sam hissed through his teeth and tugged at his hair, seemingly at war with himself.

"But what, Sam?"

"I don't know. He- he just-"

"You don't know?!" Dean interrupted accusingly.

"H-He said things, alright! Felix told me things. Things about Marty. A-and they- they made - They just made so much sense! And I hate him just as much as you do and I don't wanna believe him but-" Sam's voice faltered and he shook his head seeming lost.

"What did he tell you?" Castiel pressed, gentle but still firm.

"He told me Martina killed his wife."

***

"Now, Dean? Dean's a little harder," I said as the driver made a sharp left-hand turn. "Dean's not just a hardened killer, though that's mostly what he wants people to see. He wants people to see the machine without a heart so no one will see how horrifically broken he really is." Thinking of what Dean was really like made me laugh and I flicked my gaze at Felix. "And believe me when I say that there's nothing that could fix him by now."

"But there's so much more to him than the killer and the brokenness. Dean's the righteous man who's never known a day away from war. There are so many things he wants so desperately. Dean dreams of walking peacefully along a beach yet he's never even been to one. For all he's never had Dean tries to give it to others. For all the blood and death he's seen he's remarkably full of love. Love is the key, really. Dean Winchester loves more powerfully than anyone I've ever met. If Dean loves someone he'll do anything for them.

"He sees my age and sees in me the child he never was. He sees me afraid and wants to provide me the protection no one gave him. He sees me flinch when someone yells and wants to offer me the security he never knew. He sees an orphan and wants to give me the parental love he never had. All one has to do to fool Dean Winchester is give him a child to love.

"So, I made him love me."

***

"And you believed him?" Dean scoffed. "Marty is a kid, Sam! She's a kid! Just a scared kid who needs our protection! Marty never could have done something like that."

"Why not?" Cas spoke up. All eyes snapped to the angel.

"BECAUSE SHE'S A KID!" Dean roared. Jack flinched away from him, he'd always hated when Dean yelled. It scared him. Though, this time Dean sounded less angry and more desperate. As if there was something he didn't want to believe. As if yelling the words would make them true.

"T-that's what I thought too. But what if we're wrong?" Sam asked.

"How could we be wrong?" Dean demanded.

"What if Marty's not a kid?" Sam carefully spoke, "What if she's not human?"

Dean shook his head. "No," He said, "No, you're wrong. I know what you're thinkin' and you're wrong." Jack shook his head too. There was no way... was there? Something itched at the back of his mind. He didn't know what it was. Did he want to?

"Dean, I know this is hard to accept, but we need to think this through," Sam said, holding his hands out beseechingly.

"We don't have time for that!" Jack spoke up. "Felix is going to kill Marty! We can't just let her die!"

Sam held up a hand. "He's not gonna kill her, not for a while. We have time."

"No, you don't get it! I promised I'd save her!" Jack said.

"Exactly!" Sam pointed out. "Jack, that's exactly what she wants! She's been planning this the whole time."

"What do you mean 'the whole time'?" Dean inquired, crossing his arms.

"Think back to the beginning, w-when we first met Marty," Sam said, walking them through it. "Why were we in Copper Harbor?"

"For a ghost hunt," Jack answered, impatience leaking through his tone.

"You're right, but there was another case there. What was it?"

"Blood was being stolen from the hospital..." Cas said slowly as if remembering.

"Exactly! Exactly." Sam took a breath. "Now, that ghost in the viral video, who was it? Was it whoever's bones we burned?"

"No, it was..." Jack made the connection. Why hadn't he noticed that before? "It was Isaac."

"Okay, so that means..." He trailed off.

"That Marty was lying about the hunt and the bones," Cas finished.

"Right, now why would she do that?"

"I dunno, professor. Maybe so we wouldn't torch her brother?" Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam pursed his lips, sighing. "Well, yes, b-but no! This isn't about Isaac, this is about Marty. What would she have been hiding?"

"The blood theft," Cas said decisively. Dean shook his head.

"That's a coincidence. Marty can't be - She can't-" He couldn't even say it. He could hardly think it. "Marty can't be a vampire."

***

"Castiel was harder," I continued. "Aside from the fact that he's a multi-billion-year-old cosmic being, Castiel also lacks a soul. That made tapping into his emotions significantly more difficult, but once I did that it was quite clear that I could never fool him. At least, not directly. He's intelligent, not easily deceived, and he always tries to do what he thinks is best. Whatever that course of action might be, more often than not, it hasn't been the right one.

"Castiel is, primarily, a screw-up. There's a lot of history and even more drama involving his fellow angels and the Winchesters, and he has consistently attempted to fight for both sides of the war between them. His torn loyalties have caused a great many more problems than they've fixed and it seems as though any attempt to fix one of said problems breeds yet more chaos. Castiel is rebellious. He can never seem to do what he's supposed to. So, naturally, that makes him the most dangerous piece on the board.

"When Castiel sets his mind on something, there isn't much that can sway him. His actions have proven, repeatedly I might add, that he is even willing to go behind the backs of the Winchesters if he believes it's for the greater good. But his destructive pattern stops only for the one person he's never betrayed. Thus, to fool Castiel one has to fool his son.

"So, I got my hands on Jack."

***

"Why not?" Cas snapped.

"'Cause she just can't!" Dean's voice broke.

"She single-handedly killed five vampires, Dean! Remember?" Cas pressed. "There's no way a mere child her age could have done that."

Jack shook his head, refusing to believe it. "Marty can't be a vampire. Dad, she just can't be."

Castiel sighed, his eyes soft. "I know you want to believe that."

"Why shouldn't we?" Dean challenged.

"Because she killed five vampires single handedly! What part of that escapes your understanding?!" Cas repeated with frustration.

"We don't know what happened in there!" Dean persisted.

"Exactly! WE DON'T KNOW!" Cas yelled.

"THEN WE CAN'T ACCUSE, CAN WE?" Dean shouted back. Jack flinched again and Cas took notice, forcibly relaxing his posture in hopes of reassuring his son.

Sam groaned. "Look at the facts, Dean. The research!"

"Damn the research, Sammy! This is Marty! We know her!"

"We know she's an empath!" Sam spat. "She's been playing with all our emotions, we know that! We need to look at this objectively and, as hard as that might be, it means looking at the facts!"

"What about the facts?" Dean asked reluctantly.

"Think about it," The younger brother said. "W-we did the research, remember? Remember how none of it lined up?"

"Yeah, because Felix messed with it!" Dean tried.

"Not all of it," Sam pointed out, "Marty said she was nine when she died, but her youngest brother was ten. Remember that? How could she have been younger than her youngest sibling?"

"Sam, that-"

"Because she wasn't, Dean," He hissed, "She wasn't nine. Marty was sixteen."

"I-I remember..." Dean froze, his eyes flicking up to meet his brother. "Sammy..." He said, his voice tense and shaking, "How did I forget that?"

Dread coated Castiel's tone as he answered instead.

"I think she wanted us to."

***

"Jack is a very special boy," I said, sarcasm lacing my tone. "Although, he is the offspring of a fallen archangel, so I'd assume that 'special' comes rather naturally. Thanks for that clue, by the way. It would have taken me much longer to figure him out if it wasn't for that itty bitty little detail."

"You would have gotten it regardless." Felix shrugged.

"Of course I would've!" I snorted, shaking my head. "I didn't think my abilities were of any question."

"They weren't," Felix replied. "I know what you're capable of, lassie."

I smirked devilishly. "You should." Felix's hand clenched into a fist and he sent me a tight smile.

"Indeed." He forced the word through his teeth. "Which is why I'm surprised you enlisted to lie to that boy so completely. Doesn't that violate whatever moral code of Donoghue's it is that you've adopted?" I nodded and shrugged with a sigh.

"You're right, it does. Jack is in many senses young and vulnerable and on top of that, he's dreadfully naïve. He could never deserve what I did to him." I huffed out a humorless laugh as my face twisted into a sneer. "But you do. So I made an exception."

Felix shook his head as if disappointed. "Now, now, Martina. When one has a goal, one does not make exceptions. Lest they desire to fail, of course. Only hypocrites make exceptions. Did I teach you nothing?"

"I'm not like you," I spat.

"Is that what it looks like from where you sit?" He mused quietly. I flashed him a barred toothed grin and continued.

"There's only one that Jack Kline truly wants in this world. He wants to be good - to prove to himself and those around him that despite his parentage, he can be good. He's been told that there's something wrong with him, so he wants to find a way to somehow purge it. But he can't because there's nothing wrong and there never was. Yet, he can't believe that. So it leaves him with an insatiable desire to please.

"It's pathetic, really. He seeks validation in everything. He thinks he has to be useful to be loved. Otherwise, he's just a burden, one that nobody wanted. Jack doesn't want to believe that; he wants to be told that isn't true. Jack Kline may be powerful but he's also soft - moldable if you will. See, he's so haplessly needy that it's honestly sickening. He'll do anything for you to tell him what he wants to hear. And he'll do anything to keep hearing it.

"Jack is a combination of his three guardians. He's desperate. Like Dean, he doesn't want to see what's right in front of him. But he's not stupid. I had to erase his memory more than once. Then, like Sam, I simply distracted him and, much like Castiel, I had to keep him in line by appealing to that insatiable need of his. To fool Jack Kline one has to give him someone to save.

"He thinks he's saving me." I smiled fondly when I'd finished, glancing up at Felix with a challenge in my gaze.

"Well, we both know that's impossible," He said, eyeing me with a smirk, "There's nothing left in that cold shell of yours worth saving." I grinned, showing him the insane thing he'd created.

"You're damn right."

***

Then, like a memory, there were words running through Jack's head. Words and voices, but he didn't remember hearing them.

'You said you were nine then! But y-you - you weren't!' That was his voice in his ears. But Jack couldn't remember saying those words. 'You haven't aged a day... Five years and you haven't aged a day.'

'I aged about a month, actually.'

The other voice was Marty. The words buzzed like static, making his headache. Jack shook his head. It was like Deja Vue but entirely more vivid. Sam, Dean, and Cas kept talking. It was hard to hear them through the ringing in his ears.

"Cas, are you saying she can wipe memories?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Castiel replied, shaking his head. "But she can certainly suppress them."

"But it-it must only work when she's around b-because when she's gone - I know for me - When Marty's not around I-I start to remember," Sam said.

The ringing in Jack's ears intensified, making him groan and grasp at his head. He clamped his hands over his ears but the ringing only grew louder. It was like angel radio, but instead of being surrounded by fire, Jack felt like he was burning from the inside out.

"Jack?" Cas was calling his name. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't- I-" Jack gasped, the pain growing stronger. "It hurts! Dad, please make it stop!"

"Jack? JACK!"

He stumbled into Cas's arms as another blurred memory hit him like a train.

'I'm gonna need you to forget that,' Marty's voice whispered in his head. She sounded so gentle, so inviting. She sounded like a spider.

'I wish I could,' His own voice shook as Jack listened to himself say words he couldn't remember speaking. It felt like a memory that didn't belong to him.

There was more to it this time. There was a picture frame, but the picture inside was out of focus. There was an image. It was Martina. She had fangs. And there was something else too. Jack could feel it like a phantom pain. It was terror. The paralyzing kind. The feeling of being trapped. Jack felt the shadow of limbs and he couldn't move. He was trapped. Jack couldn't get out. He was trapped like a fly in a web. Marty was the spider. He couldn't get away. He couldn't get away from her.

She wouldn't let him.

'I can make you forget,' She was going to hurt him. ' Take us back to the night we met. '

'What do you mean?' His voice asked cautiously. He was scared. He was so scared. He couldn't get out.

'I'm going to talk to you, and then you're going to forget, and everything will be back to the way it was.'

'You're a monster.' He'd said

The ringing in Jack's ears faded and he bolted upright, gasping and shaking as panic set in. He needed to tell Sam, Dean, and Castiel what he'd remembered but he couldn't seem to find the words.

"S-She lied." That was all he could force out.

"Jack, what happened? Are you okay?" Castiel worried, checking over him. Jack just shook his head.

"She did something to me," He choked out, shaking. "I don't know. I can't remember. Why can't I remember? She did something to me!" He felt sick. There was something wrong with him.

No.

There was something wrong with Marty.

She was sick.

"What? What did she do?" Dean demanded, eyes wide.

"She-She made me forget. I knew. I-I knew and she made me forget!"

"Forget what?" Sam asked.

"I figured her out a-and she made me forget but I remembered." Jack stopped and only then did he realize he was crying. "She's one of them."

Because she had betrayed him. Marty had betrayed all of them. Jack didn't even know what to believe anymore. Had any of it been real? Or was it all some twisted lie?

"I'm sorry, Jack," Cas offered quietly.

"You were right, Sam," Jack whispered. He couldn't stop his voice from shattering. "Martina is a monster. A-And she lied."

There was silence for a moment. Then, Dean spoke up. Because someone had to take the lead and it was always him. It wasn't fair, but it was always him.

"We gotta go," He said, struggling to make his voice sound cold and firm. But he'd lost a daughter today.

"W-Where?" Sam asked.

"Me and Cas know where Felix is taking Marty. That kid's got some answering to do," Dean answered, his green eyes darkening with his tone. Castiel stood, helping Jack climb to his feet.

"Martina is dangerous, Dean. Are you sure you're willing to do what may be necessary?" Cas asked, watching Dean with a somber expression.

"It's not gonna come to that," Dean said.

"And if it does?"

"I will." Jack's voice was quiet but it caught the adult's attention.

"Jack, are you- Are you really sure?" Cas asked gently. Jack shook his head.

"I don't want to kill Martina. But you're right, she is dangerous." His voice faltered. "I can't let her hurt anybody else."

***

Felix's limo pulled into the garage of what was easily a multi-million dollar home. It was four stories and it reminded me of a castle with its dull grey stone and tall windows. The interior of the garage was constructed simply of polished cement and was entirely empty aside from the car now parked within it. I sent Felix a smirk and climbed from the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind me. The car was surrounded. Twenty or so of Felix's vamps stood guard but I knew they were more for display than anything else. Some of them I recognized, some I didn't.

"And here I thought this little girl's night was just gonna be you and me," I huffed dramatically upon seeing them, "You had me feeling all special."

"Sorry to disappoint, Lassie," Felix drawled. "But don't worry, I invited some of your friends too. Well, just one to be exact."

I shot him a curious glance but shrugged before sauntering my way past Felix's lackeys like I owned the place. I supposed I had, but that was so long ago. Were his minions really still so afraid of me? I surveyed one of the vamps as I passed him, taking notice of the bead of sweat dripping down his neck. He was clearly terrified.

So, they remembered who their queen was. Good.

Spinning on my toe like a ballerina, I let a bubbling laugh escape my throat. All of Felix's soldiers turned to face me, watching with careful eyes.

"Hello, Lovelies!" I called, grinning. A few of them shifted nervously. "Just thought you all should know, both your beloved Prince and Princess are dead! I killed them!" Murmurs spread around the empty garage, echoing off the polished grey walls. "That's right! Boyd's head I ripped off with a tractor, though I'm sure your leader was glad to finally be rid of his bastard son." I glanced at Felix who stood there stoically and winked. "I knew about that, by the way. As for Elwyn, I had the Devil's son snap her into dust like Peter Parker in Infinity War. 'Cept she ain't comin' back!" I giggled in reaction to the horrified expressions of Felix's soldiers and send the man himself a smirk before whipping around again.

"Ye know, Martina?" His voice made me pause though I kept my back to him. "I look at you and I don't see anyone looking back..." He trailed off, his tone thoughtful. "Where is that soul you used to have?"

"Just like I told your daughter, I lost it in the woods in favor of something else. You wanted me to learn something and I learned it!" I eyed him over my shoulder. "You never should have sent me there."

"I know that now." Felix sounded almost solemn. "Whatever Sampson brought back with him wasn't the girl I tossed in, was it?"

I shrugged. "That's where you're wrong. It's still me. Like I said, I just learned something over there is all."

"And what did you learn?" He wondered.

"That you were wrong."

"It doesn't seem I was," He said. I chuckled softly.

"You said I was made to be a queen. You were wrong."

"Aye?"

"I'm not a queen, Monroe." I turned to face him. "I'm a damn Empress." I grinned. "And, honey, you should see me in your crown."

I didn't bother to watch his expression. I just turned and walked.

Pushing my way through the garage door, I skipped down a long, dark hallway decorated with dark wooden pieces that I was sure had cost more money than they were worth. I smirked upon hearing Felix's footsteps trailing behind me. Whirling around and walking backward, I grinned at my former torturer.

"Got anything you didn't wanna say in front of your minions?" I taunted.

"I do, actually." He huffed a laugh that held no humor. "For the record, I'm sorry."

My expression soured. "No you're not."

"I am, truly." He placed his hand over his heart in a gesture of sincerity. "I apologize for my greed and my stupidity. I unleashed you upon this world; that will be my greatest regret, I think. I made you into a plague and I lost control over you."

"You never controlled me," I hissed.

"And I the second I realized that I should have put you down," Felix said. "I just hope the Winchester's don't make the same mistake."

I shook my head. "That's the think, Felix. They will."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." He shrugged.

"I guess I'll find out, won't I? So! Where's this friend of mine?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

"Two doors down on your right," Felix answered. I glanced at the door he was referring to then back to him.

"Ooh, goodie. Before I open it, why do I get a present?"

Felix shrugged. "Call it a joke."

I nodded. "Dope."

Then I skipped over to the dark wooden door and grasped the handle. It wasn't locked, of course, so I pulled it open. I didn't look for traps. I knew Felix would never stoop that low. The room was pitch black and there were no windows, but I found the light switch easily enough. Bright fluorescent bulbs flicked on and washed the space with light.

Sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, was a rather muscular man. His arms and legs were tied to the chair and his head was tilted down. I may not have been able to see his face, but I would have recognized that old, grungy cap almost anywhere. I crossed the space between us and tapped him on the shoulder. The man inclined his head, squinting against the light, but when he caught a glance of my face, his usually bright eyes filled with terror.

I had forgotten how fun it was to instill that level of fear. I smirked.

"Hey there, Benny! I haven't seen you since the Hunger Games!"

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

Lyrics from: Blood In The Water by grandson

[celestialices]

QUEST!

Greek Mythology x Haikyuu

Haikyuu!Ensemble x Reader

OVERVIEW. You were just a perfectly normal student at The University of Tokyo, when suddenly a bunch of 'normal boys', as they call themselves, appeared in your life and started to squeeze themselves into your life. Always saying something like "You're a goddess, we need to take you back to Olympus" (you brushed it off, saying that it was just a silly compliment) and even absurd sentences such as "You got Medusa's eyes" and "You're really Medusa's daughter!"

003: PLAN OF ACTION

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Tense.

That's one word to describe the atmosphere in the pantheon right now. Usually, the after ceremony gathering of the Twelve Olympians plus Hades, everyone would be drinking, having fun, and feasting their eyes on humans just for pure enjoyment. Even Hera doesn't know what to say, normally the one talking too much was her, often bragging about her dearest son, Kuroo Tetsuro.

Unlike others, Hermes is rather enjoying himself, sipping his wine every now and then. This day is truly a blessing. Ever since the Medusa incident, Zeus prevented all his might to keep Olympus on track. He had his sons take care of each problem before it aggravates.

Subsequently, Athena grew tired of the silence. Opting to break it, she was about to say what's been bugging her mind, but paused after locking eyes with the mischievous god. "You fancy these situations, don't you?" Athena is annoyed, no doubt.

Like the bastard he is, Hermes only snickered. "Perhaps."

"Hermes, you did something." Athena hypothesized, the wise goddess is somewhat sure of her assumption. Hermes is the most cunning of them all, the amount of times he tried to bring trouble was uncountable. But he was never held liable, taking in the fact that he did a lot of sacrifices for Mount Olympus. He's responsible for a lot of things too, in comparison of the added vigorous deities, he still remains as the best choice.

"Oh," Hermes acted dumbfounded, behaving as if he didn't know Athena will catch on sooner or later. "Did I?" He teased her. Athena isn't easy to annoy. She would rather ignore all the insignificant etiquettes of others than wasting her time expressing wrath. It's useless for pea-brains.

But with the recent events damaging her calm mind, Athena was easily irked, just as Hermes desired. Thinking of punching Hermes just to get over with it, Athena put on a smile. My punch won't hurt that much. She thought.

"Aletheia and her daughter are here." Ares announced while Athena was readying her fist, making the goddess halt and look at the two deities entering the pantheon.

Quivering in fear, Yachi held her dear mother's hand tightly. This meeting could change their lives after all. Bitterly regretting her actions earlier, Yachi reflected on her previous actions. She should've stayed quiet. If only Hermes didn't interfere, she wouldn't have said anything. Now everything is going downhill, because of a possibly wrong vision.

She just got her powers. Something could go wrong with it, right? But that never happened before. Well, Asami's case with Medusa was a first too. How would one be blinded that a mere immortal is living with them? Especially Zeus! It just doesn't make any sense. She's doomed, that's for sure.

Oh, just stop, stop, stop! Everything was too confusing. Yachi's truly conflicted, she just want pull through and move onto another day.

The two goddesses of truth bowed their heads down, showing their respect for the upper gods. “Good thing you made it promptly after we sent off Sakusa.” Zeus said with a smile. Sakusa Kiyoomi, son of Hygieia, currently under the supervision of Artemis. He was instructed to call Aletheia, after all, he originally planned on visiting to Earth after the ceremony. Artemis reasoned that, hence he can’t refuse.

"Shouldn't we call in Asami?" Demeter asked, feeling anxious. No one really knows what will happen. Demeter was only enjoying Asami's companion yesterday, now things are like this. If this doesn't go well, she'll lose another daughter. Oh, how will she just react to that?

"Before we do," Aphrodite finally spoke, standing up from her seat. "I just want to remind you all that we should set our feelings aside. Whatever the conclusion of this discussion may be, think before you act." She reminded.

This wasn't the first time a mortal was blessed by immortality, but requiring the discussion of the important gods of Olympus surely was. Meetings were typicaly in the hands of their trusted sons and daughters, however; this was too major to be dealt by them.

"Bring her in." Zeus ordered.

Three words made the room tenser. Every deity noticed how Poseidon stiffened, his agitation worsens minute by minute. It didn't help when Asami entered the pantheon, looking frightened. Poseidon locked eyes with her, his heart burning in discomfort. He never saw her like this before.

"Well?" Hera asked, raising her right eyebrow. These kind of situations bores the hell out of her. What Hera likes the most is being straight to the point. Just decide if you'll keep her or throw her out, that easy.

Yachi and Asami stared at each other. Yachi’s face was full of regret, asking for forgiveness. Asami only smiled, hoping that it will deliver her message. That it wasn’t Yachi’s fault, she would never blame her.

Aletheia stared into Asami’s soul, widening her eyes after a span of seconds. Yachi looked at her mother’s reaction, instantly panicking. “What my daughter saw is true.”

Quiet. Too quiet.

“Asami is not one of us.” Aletheia dropped the bomb. Yet no one spoke. Everything was back to square one. In spite of the fact that they prepared themselves for the truth, it was traumatizing.

Poseidon wants to protest, but if Aletheia already confirmed it, there was no way it’ll make a difference. Hades was on the verge of asking their opinions, if not accidentally making eye contact with an unoccupied space. He’s got a feeling that someone sneaked in and is currently listening to their discussion, someone being Suna Rintarou.

As he was walking towards it, his intuition suddenly disappeared. That only means one thing, Suna knew he saw him and left straight away. Hades shook his head, someone will be in trouble. Back to the real issue, “Now, what?” Hades broke the silence.

“Well..” Apollo is utterly dumbfounded. It feels surreal, is that even possible for a god? He can’t believe it. He wants to deny it even though it’s no use. “We can just make her one of us, right?”

“I don’t think we should.” Athena argued, eyes travelled to her before you know it. She is always determined, standing by her first decision no matter what happens. “We should presume that the real daughter is there, with Asami’s real parents. Switching them would be a better plan.” After what she said, almost every deity in the room swerved their opinions. Athena is the wisest, her words are always right.

“I stand by Athena.” Ares backed her up. Their opinions about this matter were alike, that’s surprising itself. They never get along; having opposite opinions is common for them. It’s truly shocking that they won’t debate over this.

“We should first check if the real one is alive and well. Before dealing with Asami. For now, I’ll reside her in my place.” Hestia said.

“No. Lock her up in the underworld.” Hera contradicted, studying Asami’s response to all of this. But all she can see in her face is blankness. Huh, Hera pondered, Affecting her already? “Hades would look after her better.”

Hestia frowned, offended by what Hera said. Just as she was about to retort, Zeus spoke up. “That’d be better. Does anyone disagree?” Zeus was emotionless. His voice is laced with seriousness, but it looks like he doesn’t really prefer that choice.

No one spoke up. Seems like they’re still processing what the hell just happened. “I’ve got no complaints.” Hephaestus spoke for the very first time, just wanting to go home. He isn’t really close with Asami, so he doesn’t care, at all. Being in the same room with the other upper gods makes him want to vomit.

“Then that’s it.” Zeus replied straightaway, evidently scared that he’ll lament his decision and change it abruptly. “May every Olympian send their desired deity in hopes of finding the real deity in Earth? Until they bring her back, they can’t come back to Olympus. So, I advise you to think wisely.”

Everyone was taken aback. Today is just full of surprises.

“Everything will be fine.”

Lies. All lies, everything was obviously not fine. His closest friend, the one who's always there for him, is not fine. Regrets piled up in Yamaguchi's heart. Reminiscing to what happened back there, he regrets not doing anything. Those eyes, those eyes crying for help. He should've ran to her, he should've hugged her and tell her everything will be okay even though it won't. Because it was always like that. They’re always like that.

Everything will not be fine!

It's been hours since the big commotion, hours since the supposedly ‘meeting’ of the upper gods regarding the issue, Yamaguchi never heard any news since then. It was new, since every time there’s a meeting, words will circulate fast.

Hearing Hera's last words were only making him more anxious. Human world? The real daughter? That can't be it. He sincerely hopes that Yachi was mistaken. That this was all a big joke. The consequence will not be that bad compared to what can possibly happen to Asami.

Yamaguchi groaned in frustration. "Don't think too much." Hanamaki said, feeling guilty watching his fellow Aeolian suffer from his thoughts.

"Asami made a big impact to everyone, Yamaguchi. I don't think Zeus will throw her out that easy." Mattsun added. Seeing how Asami's close not only to a lot of superior gods, but also to Zeus' heart, he can easily turn her into an immortal like them, and then proceed like nothing happened. He did it a lot, so it won’t make sense if he won’t do it to Asami.

"Don't know. If all of them agree, then that will happen. Just like Shirabu’s?" Hanamaki said, making sure to choose his words carefully. He doesn't want to hurt Yamaguchi, but he doesn't want him to hope either. In a matter of fact, it's 50/50 right now. No one is sure what the outcome of their decision will be. Seeing it's been hours yet there still no rumors, it's better to expect for the worse.

With the two discussing what the outcome may be, Yamaguchi stayed silent. His mind was still replaying what happened in the courtyard, only snapping out when he heard a voice calling out to him. He frowned and looked around, not familiar with the voice at all. Down! Frustration was evident in whoever voice that is.

Yamaguchi looked down, only to see Oikawa Tooru, the mighty son of Athena, waving a hand to him like a fool. Oikawa gestured a wind after seeing Yamaguchi’s furrowed eyebrows.

Confusion immediately disappeared from Yamaguchi's face after understanding what he meant. Using the ability he received earlier, he made a wind current, and brought Oikawa up to the floating palace, Anemoi.

After a couple of seconds, Oikawa arrived, laughing at the enjoyable ride. It truly feels like flying, it might even be better! Matsukawa and Hanamaki looked at him disgustingly, not getting his questionable humor at all. "I have news." Oikawa said, switching to a serious demeanor. "It's about Asami."

The three stiffened. They were just talking about it earlier, obviously not prepared by whatever Oikawa might say. "Where did you get that news?" Yamaguchi asked. Oh how he hoped it's good news, or else he wouldn't know how to react at all.

“Well, I heard it from Kuroo who heard it from Bokuto who heard it from Atsumu who heard it from Suna.” Oikawa sat down the sturdy tree, glancing at the three’s confused faces. "You know Suna? Son of Hades." He asked, his companions nodding at him. “Heard it from him.”

“You could’ve just said that in the first place!” Hanamaki complained.

“Shut up Makki, I’m talking!” Oikawa yelled. "Well, he used his ability to sneak in the meeting. And gathered a bit of what they've discussed. He left after he accidentally locked eyes with his father, so it's not much." He chuckled, only imagining the wrath of Hades in his mind.

"Just get to the point, Oikawa. What do you know?" Mattsun asked, irritated by how chatty Oikawa is. He always get sidetracked, always adding useless information to whatever story he's saying. "The point, okay? The point." Repeating it since he know Oikawa doesn’t know how to listen.

"My Zeus, Mattsun!” Making a dramatic gesture, “I'm deeply hurt. I, the great god of wisdom and creativity, immediately went here after gathering information. Appreciate me first!" Complained Oikawa. Hanamaki can already tell he's lying, knowing his first go-to person is Iwaizumi.

“Oh, great god Oikawa Tooru, thank you very much for blessing us with your presence!” Hanamaki sarcastically praised. Yet Oikawa still loved it anyway. “Now just say it, Oikawa.”

Oikawa’s playful expression was immediately replaced with firmness. “It’s true.” He paused, wanting to be cautious. “What Yachi said.”

A sigh from Matsukawa,

Hanamaki’s startled facial expression,

And Yamaguchi’s lifeless eyes.

Every reaction they gave can tell how sadden they are with the news. “And.. Mother told me that,” Oikawa continued, staring at the cloud, unable to look at their faces. “The Olympians will send out deities to find the real daughter.”

“Well, that was unexpected.” Sakusa Kiyoomi whispered to himself while wandering at the park. “A mortal, huh.”

Silently enjoying his free time away from the deities, Sakusa took time in strolling away. He has plenty of time to waste before proceeding to do his duties, the reason why he came down in the first place.

However, he was absolutely not expecting to bump into someone. His eyebrows instantly met, he was already walking slowly. How can a person be so dumb to bump into him?

“Oh, sorry.”

Oh, sorry? His frown only worsens when they sprinted away after saying their apologies to him. Sakusa gazed at the person before him, the aura is different compared to other humans he interacted with.

It feels like..

Like he’s encountering a..

His eyes widen in realization, still staring at the person who’s almost out of his sight now.

A deity.

Anemoi - The floating castle in Aeolia. It is often where Aeolians are found. It has four temples; Glacithyia, Scortus, Forphyrus, and Aurus. All protected by the Four Seasonal Winds and their children. 

A/N: Hello! If there are any warnings that I should’ve put, please tell me! There are probably a lot of typographical errors, so please forgive me. I plan to edit all the current chapters next week. ^^ The adventure starts now! The next update will probably be next week, since it’s almost winter break. I just wanted to update before my exams begin, I hope I didn’t disappoint.  Thank you for reading!  send me an ask!  If you have any questions regarding the AU, I would gladly answer them. Or even reviews! It makes my heart happy ^^ 

[giorno-plays-piano]

Treasure hunt Part 3

Pairing: dragon!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, forced pregnancy.

Words: 1884.

Summary: No knight would dare to save a sacrificial bride of the dragon.

Part 1

Part 2

_____________

"Don't you dare hurt her!" The boy's desperate voice cut through the heavy silence, and Steve saw his long scaled tail with a razor-edged tip just like his own. "Step away, or I will burn you to ashes!"

Steve's son had his face, child's light blue eyes burning with hatred and pure savagery at the sight of his father, the one who had been chasing him before he was even born. The boy had his golden hair, too, shining in the sun. Everything in his look reminded Steve of himself when he was younger, but he could see your features in the boy's face, and the way he moved, talked and thought was yours, undoubtedly.

"You are my flesh and blood." The man whispered, amazed, confused. "Your fire can't hurt me."

His son sent him a triumphant smile, baring his sharp teeth, and reached out to his pocket to grab an odd small bottle. Oh, Steve didn't like it.

"We'll see about that."

Once the boy opened the bottle, Steve felt a repulsive scent filling his nostrils. It was the goddamn pyrite potion. Once consumed, it would give his son the power to burn both Heaven and Hell. Gods, how did he learn about the potion? Where did he find it? What did he give in return?

"Run." Your weak voice made the boy look at you with both fear and sadness, but then Steve saw determination in his face. "I'll hold him! RUN!"

Your grip on his shoulder became harder, but both of you knew no one could detain Steve here longer - except for his son and the pyrite potion in his clawed hands. His little child was only ten by now, yet he had eyes of a grown man, tired, anxious, desperate. He was well prepared to fight for you, the mother that kept him hidden when Steve roamed the earth, searching for you two for more than a decade.

The deep hatred in his child's eyes made the man shook.

"You can burn half of your face with that." The dragon said, pointing to the little bottle carefully with his human finger.

"If it means the world will get rid of you, I'm ready to burn myself, too."

_______________

Steve woke up with you hovering above him and shaking him by the shoulders in distress. His face was wet - apparently, he had been crying in his sleep, horrified by the pure nightmare he saw, the image of his son drinking the pyrite potion in front of him forever captured in his memory. Looking at your face pale with worry, the dragon wept and snuggled against your round belly. It was all a dream. It did not happen. Yet.

He let out a loud cry and kept his eyes shut while you were caressing his soft hair, afraid to  ask for an explanation as he was shaking against your body. You didn't understand what was happening to him, but he felt too weak to talk.

His own son was ready to kill himself if it meant Steve would stop following him and his mother. His dear little child became so hateful and bitter he wanted nothing else than to see his father's death.

What had Steve done? How much did he hurt his boy and you to make the both of you hate him to such extent?

He couldn't bear to think of it.

"It is alright." You cooed lovingly and pressed his blond head to your bulging belly. "It is alright, dear. You're safe. I'm here with you."

Steve felt deeply disgusted at himself, listening to your lovely voice: he was the one whose rile was to keep you safe and sound, and yet he abused you instead, locking you inside his cave, making you do what you were told, forcing you to bear his child. He believed you grew to love him, but was it true? What choice did you have rather than submitting to him?

He had been blind, thinking he could make you love him. Love couldn't be forced. He had to earn it.

"I'm sorry." He uttered, afraid to look at you and keeping his eyes shut. "I'm sorry!"

You froze on the spot, unsure of what you just heard. Did he apologize? Why? For what? What did he had to do to apologize for it? You couldn't remember the last time he said sorry to you, regardless of what he did. He thought he had always been right, always. To think of it, he hadn't been too cruel to you, but you had never pushed him to. As soon as you realized his power was absolute, you gave up, not willing to risk it. Your first attempt to flee failed because of the dragon fruit you'd eaten the day you met Steve, and all other attempts were worthless as you couldn't leave the cave without his permission. What else could you do? No magic treasure of his was able to kill him, his scales and ancient dragon charms protecting him fully.

You had to live with it. Thankfully, Steve had treated you kindly once you stopped rebuffing him, even taking you outside with him when he deemed it useful to keep you healthy and content.

What was he saying sorry for, though? You didn't believe he had finally felt remorse after many months of keeping you with him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sor..." He kept whispering feverishly until you bended over and kissed the top of his head, concerned with his state. "What have I done? What have I done?"

You didn't know what dark thoughts he harboured, but you were frightened. You had never seen him like that. You wished you knew what he was thinking.

"It's alright, darling. You're going to get better."

"No, no!" He cried softly, kissing your belly over and over again. "It's all my fault. If it's going to happen, it's all my fault."

Ah, he probably saw something terrible in his sleep. That was it, you thought. Of course, what else did you expect from Steve? He wasn't human. You doubted he knew what it was like to be trapped against your will, even if you had feelings for him. He had never obeyed anyone and lived free as a jaybird. Steve was the one and only King who ruled over these lands, what could he know about your fears and pain?

"It wasn't right. What I've done... it wasn't right. I'm sorry, my love, I'm sorry, for I have hurt you."

Your eyes flew open at his words when you stared at his soft golden hair, running your hand over his lovely locks. Gods, what did he see in that nightmare of his? What had forced these words out of his mouth?

"I should have never made you to stay against your will..." Steve's cries had finally ceased and he lifted his head, his face red and puffy, blue eyes glowing in the dark. "I have been blind. I... I give you my word, I will not make you stay here any longer."

"W-what are you saying, Steve?"

Would he let you go? Would he let you return back to people instead of locking you in his dungeon? For the moment you forgot how to breath, watching the dragon with both fear and an odd excitement.

"You said you were travelling before the villagers took you away, didn't you?" He sounded calmer, but his heated gaze showed he was still agitated as his palms gently brushed against your belly. "Do you want to travel again? Do you want to see the world?"

"Yes!" Your answer was immediate, your eyes sparkling with happiness - he hadn't seen you so joyful for a long time.

"Then we will leave tomorrow morning." He whispered and moved up, sitting close to you on your spacious bed high above the ground, furs and blankets all over the bedsheets. "I will take you to the East to show you the most attractable secrets of the Orient. Or would you like to fly up to the South to see the Great Ocean? The Sacred Mountains of the Northen island? Would you want to see the waterfalls of the Acient?"

"Yes! I want to see them all!" Tears of joy filled your eyes, and Steve smiled at you, cupping your face with his hot hands. "Let's do it, my love! Let's leave this place for good!"

Then he leaned forward to you and left a tender kiss on your forehead, brushing away your hair. You looked so cheerful, contented, extremely pleased with him like never before. It was so easy to make you happy, yet he had always thought you were happy enough with him in that cave of his, stuffed with all those things you cared little for. Why was he so stuborn? Why had he forgotten what his own mother had taught him when he was a boy? He had forgotten what the true kindness meant.

"'Tomorrow morning we will leave." The dragon assured you, leaving little kisses on your face here and there, his eyes welling up. "Don't worry, you won't have to ride me as you did when I brought you here, I will make you... a rickshaw! A cart of some kind where you'll be safe and sound."

Amazed at his enthusiasm, you burst out laughing and shook your head, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. You didn't know what he saw in his dream, but you were ready to keep thanking the gods for eternity for sending the dragon this nightmare. You were free to leave. You could see the world as you had always dreamed, a dragon at your side to protect you and the child growing fast in your belly. You couldn't pretend you wanted to abandon your own child and the man who, aside from keeping you captive, loved you like no one else did. If only Steve was more perceptive of what he was doing, realizing he might be wrong instead of claiming he always knew what was better for your and the child...

But maybe you had a chance to make him understand now. Maybe from now on everything would be different.

"We need to sleep, sweetheart." Steve whispered gently, helping you to lay down on the side - your big belly didn't let you to sleep on your back. "We'll have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Yes." You answered and snuggled closer to him, his breath tickling the top of your head. "Yes, my love. Sweet dreams."

"Sweet dreams."

Watching you close to him, Steve let out a loud breath, finally calming down. Yes, it was right. He needed to take you away from this place. He needed to give you the life you always wanted and make you happy so you would never leave his side. He needed to raise his child with affection and care, watching him grow as a boy loved deeply by his parents, not a little fugitive with a heart full of hatred and desire to kill. The boy didn't deserve a future like this. No one did.

"I will never let it happen." The dragon whispered after making sure you fell asleep. "The stars of heaven shall fall, but I will never make you suffer this fate."

_______________

Tags: @finleyjayne  @alexakeyloveloki ​ @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin​ @lovelydarkdaydream

[angelsswirl]

Vellichor

The One Where It Ends

Notes: 🥴🥴

Wrd Cnt: 1k

Ratings: T+

"My youth is yours. Tripping on skies, sipping waterfalls. My youth. My youth is yours."

Ryland folded herself into Taylor's side. She squeezed her eyes shut until her eyelids began to pound in pain. She made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sniffle.

Taylor frowned, rubbing her girlfriend's back, "What's wrong, Ry?"

Ryland hesitated in responding, but she figured it was now or never. It was time to get this off her chest.

"I-I just don't want you to be upset or mad."

"Did you kiss Landon?"

Ryland broke out from Taylor's hold. A look of evident disgust on her face, "Hell no!"

"I didn't think so. He's sort of been telling everyone at school that. Which is odd because you don't even go there anymore. Don't worry I'll handle it." Taylor said with her signature easygoing smile.

Ryland let her sigh take her back into Taylor embrace.

"I'm scared that you'll be mad when I tell you that I'm still not ready to mate or even have sex for that matter. I don't know if I'll ever be. To be completely honest the concept of sex doesn't really appeal to me. At all. Maybe if we can mate without it that would be ideal."

Taylor placed a soft kiss on Ryland's head, "That's okay, babe. It's my job to keep you happy and if sex does not make you happy then consider it crossed off the list. And when you're ready I'll look into non-sex ways to mate."

Ryland looked at Taylor with tears in her eyes, "I love you."

"I love you too."

~•~

"The more you come over here the more obsessed with you he gets. The other parents are going to think you're playing favorites." Wendy said as she watched her son move hurriedly around his playroom. She wasn't sure what he was attempting to accomplish but she knew better than to ask and to just wait until he was done.

"I am playing favorites." Lia said simply. She didn't bother to elaborate, but the small smile on Wendy's face indicated that she understood.

"Then why haven't you asked me out yet?"

Lia sputtered for a good thirty seconds before frowning deeply. Why hadn't she asked Wendy out yet? It was honestly a very good question.

She supposed she had been so caught up with her family and Maya and work end everything pointedly not Wendy that it  conveniently never crossed her mind. Besides, she was also under the impression that Wendy definitely didn't like her like that and just wanted to be her friend.

And yes, now that she's thinking about it literally none of that makes sense. At all. But, who is she if not a gay mess.

"Wendy Son, will you go out on a date with me? Without the ankle biter."

Wendy smiled brightly and gave Lia a quick kiss on the cheek, "Of course I'll go on a date with you."

"Cool."

"And don't call my kid an ankle biter."

"Why not? We were playing dinosaurs the other day and he quite literally bit my ankle."

"You should have communicated the rules of dinosaurs better to him."

"This is my fault!?"

~•~

"You've got that look."

"What look?"

"That mom look. That look you do when you're momming."

You ooked at your wife with a roll of your eyes, "I'm always 'momming'."

Jisoo huffed, her wife was not getting it, "I know. This is different. You get this look when you're going to go into mama bear mode. Like when something bad is about to happen."

You nodded and thought for a second. You supposed your eyebrows were furrowed a bit more than normal. And it was safe to say that youe did feel like a shoe was about to drop. Like something was about to happen with one of your kids and you were going to have to do some major mothering or damage control. Often, with your kids those were one and the same.

"I don't know why, but I've just got that feeling, you know? Like one of your kids is about to walk through that door and tell me something I don't want to hear."

"Why are they always my kids when they do something you don't like?"

"Oh trust me. You won't like this either. But to answer your question, they normally take after you. "

The last time you had felt like this, they were sitting by Lia's hospital bed during her illness. The surgeon was about thirty seconds away from telling them that Lia probably would never be able to sing again.

You eyed the calendar hanging ominously on the kitchen wall. May was always a busy month for them. Three weeks ago had been Peyton's 18th birthday. Then the following week was her graduation. The day after that had been the anniversary of Lia's incident. A day they don't necessarily celebrate but always acknowledged.

"I think we're going to have to put another date on the calendar for May." You said. Your eyebrows somehow even more furrowed than before. One of the perks of being mated meant being constantly in tune with your mates emotions. Ever since Jisoo had finally gotten over her well to-do hang ups, it seemed as though they were even more in sync. Jisoo could practically feel the apprehension wafting off of her wife.

She stood up and wrapped her arms around your waist. Kissing you comfortingly on the neck, "Whatever it is, I'm sure we'll get through it. We always do."

You relaxed for the first time that day into your wife's arms, "You're right. I'm just being dramatic."

Jisoo kissed your cheek, "You wanna go be dramatic in bed?"

Before you could answer the front door opened. Peyton and Maya walking through it a second later. You eyed the grip Peyton had on Maya's hand. Jisoo eyed the look of fear in Maya's eyes.

And they both knew exactly what was about to happen.

"Mommy, mama. I'm pregnant."

You had been right on the money.

Jisoo pulled away from you with a harsh stretch.

"Maya." Jisoo spoke lowly.

"Yes ma'am?" Maya squeaked.

"Run."

Unlike with Lia, Maya knew to heed that warning. Without hesitation she took off the down the street. Jisoo hot on her heels.

And yes, you had been right. But Jisoo had been right too. All those months ago. When she was so apphrensive about her daughter and a certain alpha. She had been focusing on the wrong daughter and alpha. But nevertheless, she had been right. And as she's chasing Maya down this residential street, all she can think is "I was right!"

~•~

A.N. that's the end. I hope no one is upset with this ending. I know it may not seem like it but this book is somewhat rooted in reality and things these sometimes happen. let me know if you want that third anthology book i was talking about.

[julies-butterflies]

I must admit, sometimes I do feel like a ye olden solider, sending letters to my beloved across the waves during wartime. Oh my dearest Lydia, I hope the kudos and comments crops have been plentiful this season. Your last letter left me weeping. Why must you put poor Reginald through such pain?

(I gotta admit, I still can't believe that I'm talking to you. I've been looking up to your work for so long...it just feels a bit surreal, even now! Glad you like hearing my ramblings! And that you liked my vampire prompt! Did not realize you'd write back when I sent that in. Look at us now, huh?)

(Speaking of prompts, I sent those jukebox and willex ones too. And I loved them both so so much, I shall scream about them more when it is not 2 am because I need sleep)

(Oh and the update of If I Was You!!! Amazing, Stellar, Incredible, Reggie, Carrie, Julie shenanigans is my new favorite thing, DID YOU JUST DOUBLE THE CHAPTER COUNT, and I'm like 90% sure Trevor is in deep trouble with a certain angry jazz ghost. Seriously loving it)

I actually do not remember what it was like to send in 1/5 asks, because I did not get a Tumblr until very reccently! I've always been a nerdy person, but Jatp is my first time being really in a fandom. You gotta do something new in quarantine, right?

Ah yes. Luke and Emily. To me, it just seems obvious that there's so much love between them. Even with all the pain. You get it. You put it down so eloquently.

As for what kind of stories I like to read...it seriously depends on my mood.

I like niche aus, passion projects. Stories where you can just feel the author's love for the world they're inventing. But I tend to lean towards cannonverse. I like ghost stories, it's what drew me to this show in the first place. And I love exploring that concept. (Being forever gone, and always the same...it's just fascinating to me)

Platonic goodness is just WONDERFUL for this show. I will read anything with cuddles. I am touched starved and these kiddos are too, and I will cry about them puppy piling every damn day. Plus there's just some much POTENTIAL for future friendships! I love ones where Flynn and Carrie get to interact with the boys as well. And 90s content, from before and after the orpheum, just hits hard.

I really wasn't expecting to get invested in the couples on this show, but something about them is moving to me. So I do love to read about them. Watching two queer kids who lived during incredibly important areas of queer history find love together after death really hit hard for me, and there's just something so bittersweet about a girl and ghost deciding to love each other for the little time they're given.

I love family dynamics too. Anything with Ray and his seven disaster children, the band and Trevor.... I think Julie and Emily is one of my favorite dynamics to explore. A girl who lost her mother and a mother who lost her son, both grieving but with one able to speak to the dead...it's just very powerful to me.

(And of course, Luke and Emily, but I figured you already knew that)

Mostly...I like seeing the messy stuff. The unexpected consequences, the baggage. I want to see the messy emotions, the grief and anger, the jealously, the disorientation. I look for those glass shards, that might be too sharp to ever be addressed on the show. Not even the big, monumental plot lines just... the harder pieces of life, the little moments that don't fit neatly into a nine episode arc.

I just want to see them live you know? Love, laughter and loss all mixed together.

(One of my all time favorite tropes is "found family gets broken apart by trauma, only to find each other again and come back stronger than ever." I feel like this explains a lot of my taste in fiction)

Thank you for the writing advice. Your words were very motivating. I am trying to begin! I got up the nerve to start working on a little piece. Who knows if it will go anywhere. But it's been nice, to finally put some words on the page.

The POTC au is so freaking good man. The character dynamics are just on FIRE. Everything is broken and messy and the relationships genuinely tug at my heartstrings. It's such a fascinating story. Highly recommend, even with the cliff hangers.

OH HOW COULD I FORGET PAWPRINTER? Man oh man I love all her work. The wheelies art and steals universe is freaking amazing, not an avacado had me in tears (of laughter, till things got surprisingly sad). And All that Remains...slow burn Willex perfection. Jedi Alex and Pilot Willie have my HEART.

I don't think I've read firefall and weneedglitter (or if I have, I'm just not connecting the names to their pieces. I don't always remember author names. it's a problem). I will go look for them though! Cannot wait!

For more recs, I recently binge read We Found Wonderland. I was not mentally prepared for the sheer amount of feelings that gave me. Highly recommend, if you ever want an emotional rollercoaster with an incredibly satisfying end.

Going on to more serious subjects...I'm sorry your family doesn't see your grief for what it is: honest. Better to feel everything quietly, than make it an easily understadnable performance. Fake grief is so easy to spot.

I think of that scene from "Forever," when Buffy breaks down and tells Dawn that she has to keep busy, because if she stops, it means Joyce is really gone. There's a lot of truth there.

On a tangent here but.. there was a very long period in my life when I was told the ways I expressed my emotions were "incorrect". And I found that sometimes, no matter how you show your emotions, you'll always be criticized. Numbness can be called disinterest, but sobbing can be called attention-seeking too. Too big, too small: that jury was impossible to please This may not apply in your situation but...it's okay to feel however you can. It's the only think you can do, really.

As I've said before, Grief is such an odd trickster.

Don't you ever get tired of missing people... This past year, I've been so weary of grief. Sometimes it can be so sharp, but it's that dull ache. That ball and chain, no longer cutting through your skin, but rubbing it raw, weighing you down.

And people don't like to talk about that part, because it's long and tiresome, but oh, is it there. I find it hard to talk about my grief, because sometimes there's just so much of it. I could drown in it, and that fear keeps me from looking to close. To incorrectly quote Jane Austin: "If I missed you a little less, I might be able to talk about it more."

(Sometimes it's faceable. But sometimes you just can't bear it. And that's okay.)

But what you wrote in that eulogy...the love is there. It's in every word you write. I cried reading that section. I feel honored once again to see some of your jagged pieces. You're sharing your heart, and there's just so much love.

In the wise words of an author I know, "Love is like the snow Reggie. It never goes away."

And don't worry, I'm always with you.

Sending Love,

-LydiaStan7845 (aka Vampire Anon)

So...that Reggie and Nicky prompt

my god

my GOD

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

I think it's safe to say congrats, you've officially destroyed me! I was not prepared for that at ALL. I should know better by now I guess.

I can't get over that even though they all take place in very different universe, all your stories just feel so connected! The way this talked about those headphones, which you mentioned in the first chapter of Kill Your Heroes...it's just so cool. All the characterization and backstory is just so well thought out, and it genuinely blows my mind.

I didn't think I could love Nicky Peters more. I was wrong. The way you write about him...even though you never go into exactly what happened to him after Reggie's death, you can just feel how much it's shapped him as a person. And the trauma around his father, and how he fears becoming like that, was just so beautifully written. He's just so lovable and flawed and trying so damn hard and you made my heart ache for him. Again.

You always take these genuinely crazy situations and...you just make them feel so real. I love you explore the strains such a revelation would put on Nicky's own life, it just makes everything so compellingly messy. It seriously feel like I was watching a real-life account of a family trying to deal with such a massive complication.

That porch scene had me in tears both times I read it. Reggie's just always a big brother, even though Nicky is more than twice his age now. My heart was shattered, and then you slowly mended it, piece by piece. And for absolutely no reason at all, you wouldn't happen to have a reference for the porch, would you?

Just wow. Hope you're doing well. Sending love and applause

-Vampire Anon

i’m not even gonna reply, but i want these documented... on my blog... for posterity.  ( for any curious onlookers, i’m dating this anon now!! )

[themousefromfantasyland]

The Yule Man (1/7)

As told by ME

This was meant to be a short story, but it became too big, so I separated it in seven parts. I want to turn my blog in a space where I can share my writting every once and a while.

This is the first time I post one of my stories on a public space. This is the first time anyone besides my sister will be able to read, so I'm pretty exciting and anxious. I want honest criticism. I hope you all enjoy it.

"It's he who brings the Yule ice and snow to Arnsberg." The little girl said.

Everything seemed somehow brighter and warmer on that peaceful afternoon.

The lines of holly hanged above the walls and windows gave an otherworld feel to the street. The jingle of the bells of the market down the avenue helped to remind how happiness sounded like. Silver bells adorned the rooftops. The traditional statues of silver stood on the churches’ terrains.

They promised that the Silver God would once again bless his holy season. The store windows promised an affable and cozy night. That was not what that beggar boy received.

The confectionery attendant shoved him away with all scorn and disdain possible in a man. Why did he should show him kindness? The boy couldn't pay, and he was so filthy dressed he would drive customers away. And as he said beneath his breath while coming back to the store:

"Magic only brings trouble."

Mia Hayek and her baby sister were stepping in their carriage when they saw the scene. The poor young man looked at the sweets in the windows of the confectionery with so much craving. He looked as if he hadn't eaten anything in a long time.

She took out her long wide hat and her cotton scarf and asked her sister if she knew that boy. The little girl, with all sincerity that a child is capable off, responded.

He had a slender and thin body, but the enormous, hooded fur coat worn swallowed it completely. He carried a huge bag of shabby cloth against his back. The fur hood and the cloth around his lower face made it hard to give him an age. Mia was sure he couldn't be older than twenty.

Everyone in Arnsberg knew the boy. Always seen wandering without destination in the Solstice Eve carrying that stained bag. He arrives in town no sooner than the first snow. He stays for the twelve days of the Yule Festival, then he disappears. And no one can find him before the next one.

Mia saw him in the last year. He lived near the park in front of the bakery. The baker shoved him away as if he was a stray dog. He has not changed a thing from then.

"He never changes." Sophia mindlessly added. "Even mother remembers him from her time. He never changes."

Mia stared at the boy. Ragged and disheveled. Time had devoured those clothes, tattered and grimy as they looked.

"Is he magical?" Mia asked.

"Yeah!" Her little sister nodded. "But he can only bring the snow, he can't control it. He's harmless."

"Stay here!" She told her.

Mia stepped out of the carriage and walked in the direction of the boy as fast as her boots allowed. Noticing being followed, he turned. She stopped in the spot.

The hood obscured his face. He maintained his back bended, and he avoided looking into her eyes. By the way he stayed quiet, she knew he was nervous. People dressed like her usually didn't had nice things to say to people dressed like him.

"You're beautiful!" He whispered to himself, hoping only he listened.

She smiled back.

"Thank you!"

She heard and he could only blush in response.

"Sorry, but I always see you around here during this time." She began saying while messing with her curly hair. "The town can get pretty cold. Do you have where to pass the night."

The boy chuckled, and she could see a vague spark in his eyes.

"The cold never bothered me anyway, madam."

"What do you carry with you?" She came forward and touched his long bag. It felt so freezing that she immediately withdrew as by sheer impulse.

He lowered the cloth that covered his face and looked up to her, allowing Mia to take a deep look.

"I... I should already release this thing, but... I got distracted. I wanted to find something to eat first, so..." He sounded so nervous, trying so hard to justify himself, as if fearing punishment.

His face was pale and soft, still with signs of boyhood. His eyes were big and innocent, in bright green. His beard was as red as a fox, and it was shaggy and full of pieces of ice.

"...and now I don't know where to release this stuff."

"Do you have where to spend the holidays?" She interrupted him.

"No." He answered embarrassed.

The question really pierced through him. She saw how it affected him in the wrong way. A second question slipped through her mouth before she could have time to re-evaluate it.

"Do you found somewhere to eat?"

He didn't respond.

She drew his hands, letting his bag land on the ground. It surprised her how soft and warm they were.

"Stay the Yule with us."

Mia could just have brought him food and then forget anything about him in the next day. Any normal person would do that. Maybe she felt a genuine urge to help him. Maybe her pity for him spoke louder. Perhaps she found him too adorable to let go. Whatever the real reason may be, something drew her to him.

"My father is wealthy, but generous. I'm sure he'll allowed it."

He smiled to her by a second, as if he loved the idea, but then he frowned, as if he remembered something.

"I'm sorry. You have been very kind, but I can't."

"Please!" She insisted, her voice cracking a little. "You can't spend the Yule in the streets and in the cold."

""I already used to it."

He forced a sly grin, as if trying to tranquilize her. He continued. "I'm sure you mean well, but it's better that I stay here."

"Our mansion is always open to those who need it, and you'll be well treated there."

"A mansion?" He frowned.

"My father is Mr. Hayek. My name is Mia Angela Hayek. Ravi de vous rencontrer." She greeted him with the dress.

"Never heard of him." He joked.

"Please, stay with us. We...

"Is it comfy..."

"What?" She asked surprised.

He spoke in a tone that made her think of a timid small boy.

"Your mansion. Is it comfy and cozy? That's how I always picture these places to be." He didn't want her to see he smiled.

"Of course." She nodded.

"Does it have a fireplace?"

"Yes. You can drink hot cocoa by it and eat some gingerbread cookies if you want."

"I never eat a gingerbread cookie."

"You can eat all sweets you wish. The kitchen has smelled wonderful since morning. My father is giving a big ball tonight. It will be so full of cakes and sweets. It will make even the most illustrious confectioneries envious."

Mia saw how much the idea pleased him, how much it tempted him to say yes. Yet, something held him back.

Against his better judgment, he said:

"Okay."

The air grew colder on that moment. The winter breeze brought chills down her spine. Whatever it was, the boy felt it too.

"But just for one night." He soon added.

"What's your name?"

"I don't have one." He said while pulling back his bag.

She tilted her head.

"How come you have no name?"

"Never needed one."

James Hayek had all the reasons to be jolly during the holidays. This son of immigrants became the most important merchant in all the North Kingdom. The Hayeks were the wealthiest mixed family in Arnsberg. This filled him with pride, but also a deep sentiment of duty. As a child of Arnsberg by heart he felt as his duty to retribute all his good luck back to the community.

The Hayek Mansion was a charming building located near the road down to Arnsberg, far close to the forest. Mr. Hayek certified himself that its doors would be forever open to the town that welcomed him.

It was the Solstice Eve. Tomorrow the Yule Festival would begin, twelve days of tradition and merriment. A gigantic fir-tree of nine meters was brought to the mansion's courtyard. The servants of the Hayek family surrounded its needles with all sorts of ornaments. They garnished the Yule Tree with silver, gold, and all kinds of jewelry. On its top, the Solstice Sun ornament promised to shine brighter than the real one. Not even Queen Ava's tree in the Royal Palace was as beautiful as the one who stood now in the Hayek Mansion.

Dozens of statues of goats surrounded the tree, all carefully made of pure straw. A somewhat forgotten tradition that Mr. Hayek couldn't let go in any capacity.

Two full tables had been already set. Roast turkeys and ducks, steamed hams and caramelized cods covered the first table.

The second table looked like a small child's fever dream. Colorful palaces of gelatin and chocolate sprinkled with sugar. Snowy towns and castles of gingerbread covered with white marzipan. Fountains and rivers flowing with chocolate. Towers of cakes and pies. Mountain chains of pudding with nuts and chestnuts boulders. It had enough to maddening the youth.

When Mia and Sophia arrived at the Hayek residence, the Yule Log had been already tossed into the fire. Both her and her sister helped the fur-cladded boy stepped out of the carriage. No sooner they crossed the golden gates, the servants already whispered between themselves. They couldn't help but gaze at the peculiar young man with awe and curiosity.

As soon as the girls walked upon the carpet in the living room, their parents rushed to speak to them. When Mr. Hayek first heard the news, he had to come to see it by himself.

"You brought the Yule Man?" He gave a strong laughter that came straight from the bottom of his belly.

The boy didn't know how to react, so he stepped behind the sisters and gave him an awkward smile.

Mr. Hayek was a cheerful and youthful old man. Mrs. Hayek could be the proudest woman the world has ever seen. She fitted the role of the women who dressed to show the world her social status. Her blue eyes had troubles showing affection. Her corn-like hair was stylized in the same way as the fashion magazines. Meticulously armed.

She approached Mia to talk in particular.

"You should be getting dressed." She spoke with veiled bitterness.

Mia tried her best to argue back.

"Sorry mother, I was doing shopping when..."

Her mother definitely didn't want to know. She twisted her eyebrows and said:

"Why are you so irresponsible. I'm tired of sorries. And what are you wearing for the gods' sake" She started yelling.

Mia swallowed her mother's sermons with her best poker face. Since she was a child, she knew how harsh Mrs. Hayek's criticism could be. Nothing different from the woman that searched for defects in everything.

"You know how this night is important. It's your first ball. My daughter shouldn't look like a hag." She took a pause to breath. "Go get dressed!"

Sophia came forward.

"Can the Yule Man spend the Yule with us?" She asked with manipulative eyes.

"You can't bring him here." She whispered while offering a false smile to greet the newcomer boy.

Fritz and Thomas, Sophia's elder brothers, looked at him with intense curiosity.

"Magic always leads to trouble." She put.

"Mother, he needs us." Mia shot back. "Besides not aging, there's not that much he can do. He is harmless."

"Mia, can you stop arguing..." Her mother tried to shut her down as she always did.

Mia had other plans.

"Father..." She turned to Mr. Hayek. "This is the true Yule Man. You can show him to the town's children tonight.

"I like children." His tiny voiced ricocheted off the living room walls. They turned to face him.

"They are nice to me." He said in a small tone behind them.

They almost had forgot he was still there.

"My dear, I don't know..." Mr. Hayek gazed at his unhappy wife.

"Remember when you were young and poor, and they chased you off that department store." She pointed to the boy. “They shoved him out of the confectionery as if he were nothing. He doesn't have where to spend the Yule days. He never had."

Mr. Hayek grew quiet. Not everyone had been nice to him. The way he looked had closed a lot of doors before. He promised to never take part in any judgment by appearances.

"You win." He winked at her. "Okay. Welcome to our Yule party Mr. Yule Man.

The boy looked at Mrs. Hayek. He saw her eyes steaming.

The guest started appearing around the evening. The parties in the Hayek Mansion always yielded weeks of conversation and gossip. They were more accessible than official public events. Open to everyone who wanted to participate. Thanks to that Mr. Hayek received the charming nickname of the "Father of the Poor." from his enemies. He liked it.

In her bedchamber, Mia wore a ballgown that had the color of the winter night sky. A low busted and short sleeved gown that drew attention to her silhouette. It was richly embroidered with snowflake patterns that surrounded her skirt. A delicate bow tied her curly brown hair back, drawing attention to her delicate face. Her strong red lipstick contrasted quite well with her light-brown skin tone.

When she went down the staircase. She gasped at how beautiful her house looked. Decks of holly, ivy and winter roses scattered everywhere. When the Yule Man saw her, he gasped at how beautiful she looked. He raced to her, still with his bag.

"Why are you still wearing this thing?" She pressed her lips together. She sounded just as her mother.

"Sorry If I was too rude. Do you like it?"

"No. No. I don't like this thing at all." He chuckled while eating a huge piece of marzipan with his free hand.

"So, why do you wear it?"

"As if I had a choice." He smirked.

He had finished his attack on the table of sweets. His mouth still was stained with sugar and chocolate. She noticed he had pockets in his suit, because they were full of gingerbread cookies and pieces of cake. The corners of her mouth lifted a smile as soon as she realized it.

When they arrived at the courtyard, the guests already crowded the place. The music had begun. The youthful couples already waltzed together amid the chatter of their families. That scene never failed to fill Mia's eyes, and now she could be officially a part of it. Her first ball as a woman.

She saw her mother approaching.

"What are you wearing." She yelled in her lowest tone.

Mia stood in her defensive position.

"Mother, you promised I could pick my own dress."

Mrs. Hayek exhaled.

"Yeah, I did. You look beautiful."

Mia smiled in relief.

"You too mother."

"You look perfect, and it's Yule, but don't exaggerate on the food." She laughed. "You know how the woman in our family have problems with weight."

Mia forced a yellow smile as a good daughter. As soon as her mother departed, the boy tried to cheer her.

"That was close. You survived the attack of the amazing shrew. Good job."

Mia laughed out loud. He felt proud with himself.

The children on the place couldn't stop looking at him with amazement. She turned to him.

"You don't really have a name?"

His smile disappeared.

"No."

He tried to physically walk out of that social interaction. She followed him.

"Do you at least have parents or relatives?"

He spent a couple seconds thinking.

"I don't know. I believe that I don't."

"Where you go when you aren't in Arnsberg? Do you visit other cities?"

"I prefer not to think about that." He said as politely as he could.

"Can I ask about the bag?" She joked.

He handled the bag over to the other hand.

"Nope!"

He really didn't like the direction of that conversation.

"Can I least ask you about the beard? Do you like it?"

He stopped. He looked at her.

"Not even a little." He laughed. "It's shaggy, it scratches, and it annoys me so much."

"Why you don't shave it?"

"As if I had a choice."

That was getting on her nerves.

"Why wouldn't you have a choice?"

He looked deep into her eyes.

"Because only real people have a choice."

On that same moment, a man wearing a red fur cloak and carrying a sack full of toys and stepped out of the servant’s door. The children gasped and cheered his presence and rushed in his direction. The adults were left amazed. Santa Claus had arrived. By his side, a very tall man came closer, wearing a wooden goat mask and wearing a very thick coat. On his hand he carried birch branches. The children surrounded them in seconds. The Goat-masked man asked in his spookiest voice if they had been nice or naughty that year. Santa had already start delivering the presents to all the children.

Mia nudged him.

"It's my father. He lives by the Yule Festival." She boasted. "He loves to dress like Santa. He's the only black St. Nick in the town."

"I find funny how you always seem to agree that he's an old fat man in red."

He left her confused.

"Excuse me."

"St. Nicholas is way younger than that. And he drinks." He chuckled. "A lot."

She tilted her head and frowned.

"How can you tell? No one can see him."

He stayed quiet.

"Do you know the real Santa?"

He broke the silence.

"He's a good man. He's nice to me. The Yule Goat is bad. He's very bad. He beats children."

He nodded to the goat masked man. Mia saw that it unsettled him a bit.

"Calm down. It's just Edgar, our butler. He likes to scare kids, so every year he dresses like the Yule Goat."

All the kids after receiving their presents ran to his side. Mr. Hayek as the jolly saint came closer to Mia at said in direction of the young man:

"This man..." He certified himself to be heard by everyone. "...is the Yule Man. Today he will show us the magic of the Yuletide season."

The crowd turned and stared at him in intensity. The typical hypocrisy of mortals: They fear magic but can't lose a chance to see it close. The boy himself stayed quiet as a mouse in his spot.

Mia asked in his ear:

"Crowds make you nervous"

"Yep" He almost couldn't be heard.

"I realized."

He walked to the center of the courtyard without saying no more words. Near the fir-tree he tossed his bag on the ground. Mia attended all that closely.

He pulled the knot that tighten the bag closed and opened it. A single snowflake came out first. It flew like a white butterfly in the direction of the wind. Calm, gentle, beautiful. It shimmered like nothing else. Some of the children ran after it and tried to catch. A second came out, and third, and a fourth. The snowflakes then burst out of the bag, billions of them. Small bright crystals that looked more like pixie dust.

He opened his arms and allowed the endless wave of light blast off and fill the skies. The crowd clapped and cheered in a mad frenzy. Mr. Hayek couldn't believe his eyes.

Mia stood there, speechless. The sight took all her ability to think properly.

The Yule Man closed his eyes. He shook both hands together as quick as he could. The bright outburst ceased. The bag dissolved in icicles. As if the world's largest swarm, they dashed up, up into the sky, while the snow started to fall.

He turned back to them.

"And this...This is how the Yule snow comes to Arnsberg."

The crowd clapped in pure ecstasy. He exhaled relieved.

The kids chased him. The adults had troubles understanding what happened. Mia stayed quiet in her thoughts processing everything.

The north wind blew over them all. The boy felt the message sent to him down to his bones. A dark figure appeared in the corner. He knew there were consequences to be dealt with.

Mia searched for him when he appeared and shook her hand.

"I'm grateful for everything..." He started. "... but St. Nicholas saw me. I already violated too many rules."

And he ran away.

"What!"

She stayed behind, left speechless again.

Mia marched to her parents close to the mansion's entrance.

"Father, what did you said to him?"

She took Mr. Hayek by surprise.

"Nothing, I..."

Sophia stopped playing with the other girls and their new toys and walked to them.

"It was not him. It was the real Santa.

"Hey!" His heart broke. He said visibly offended. "How long do you know I am not..."

Mia interrupted him.

"Sophia, why are you talking about?"

"St. Nicholas came here to talk to him."

"How I didn't see him?"

She responded with such innocence that terrified Mia.

"He's invisible to you."

Mia rushed back inside and searched for him everywhere. She found him when he was getting nearer the front gate.

"Why did you leave?" She approached him behind pulled him by the arm. You said you would spend the night here."

"I can't. I simply can't. St. Nicholas talked to me...

"Santa? Santa threatened you?"

"No. St. Nicholas is nice to me." He argued. "Only a few like him are. The North Wind brought him here. He told him how I was breaking the rules. Different from him, I can be seen by mortals. He thinks it's not wise for me to get too close to them, to you."

He paused as soon as he realized how that sentence could be interpreted.

"To you guys, the mortals, your family." The awkwardness possessed his body.

Her forehead furrowed while pressing her lips together.

"What are the rules?"

He scratched his head and lowered it down.

"I arrive to Arnsberg by the first light of the Solstice Eve. I must leave before the first light after the Yule days are over."

Her expression lightened.

"So, you can spend the festival with us."

"Do you even listen to me?" He cried out loud.

She placed her hands over his shoulder.

"Listen, you will not violate any rules. As long as you left..." She gesticulated for him to continue it.

"Before the first light after the Yule days are over." He added.

"I know you liked here. So, what do you say.”?

"Mia, I can't."

She raised her voice.

"So, they want you to spend the holidays in the street?"

"I don't have a choice." His jaw clenched and he shut his eyes.

She drew him closer.

"Yeah, you do."

That simple phrase teared down his walls. He no longer felt the ground under his feet. His eyes teared up.

"Do you really believe that." He said in a cry voice.

She struggled to look him in the eyes now.

"I do." She smiled to him.

He closed his eyes.

"Okay, I will spend the Yule Festival with you."

He heard the wind blowing outside. A very bad omen indeed. For some Mia sensed butterflies on her stomach. She felt a sweet taste in her mouth. Something sweet and warm inside her chest.

"Okay, I will ask Edgar to lead you to the Guest room."

He shook his head.

"It isn't necessary. I hate giving people trouble. I can sleep anywhere."

She raised her eyebrows.

"But you need a name. Can I call you Christopher? I always found a beautiful name."

"Yeah, you can." His eyes twinkled while the corners of his mouth quickly turned up.

She stepped closer.

"Happy Yuletide, Chris!"