#beware those hidden daggers!!

[glitterguts13]

An Alien Isolation AU:

Male Rover (Yin) is trapped on an abandoned ship after discovering that it was a trap laid by the alien hybrid experiment, Scar or rather known in the files as SC-4R

Rover is now all alone, trying to escape and not trying to become Scar’s little breeding ground (depending on if you want to do a good ending or bad ending or the neutral ending where he escapes not knowing that he was knocked up)

(The outfit for Rover to wear is similar to Rei Ayanami’s plug suit from Neon Genesis Evangelion)

The correct answer is always, the bad ending.

TW: Implied rape/non-con, forced breeding, eggpreg

Nothing about this mission went right. The crew was dead, the ship was stuck in limbo, and not a single call for help was being answered. A quick supply run, drop off the goods at the station, and be back home before the end of the month!

With the door to the command center sealed off, Rover thumbs through the files the now-dead captain had been keeping hidden. His throat tightens as he reads over the pages, blood going cold at the large chunks of redacted information.

The crew itself had been the supply drop...the target this...creature that was created by the company. Alien? Human? A bastard mixture of the two, hungry for flesh and only being kept at bay with bi-yearly "offerings."

SC-4R showed intelligence far beyond an ordinary human, speed comparable to a cheetah, and a bite force unheard of by any earthly animal.

Beware the knife-like tail, dagger-like claws and canine teeth the size of a grown man's pinky finger. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if it just killed you on the spot, but no, this thing played.

One by one the crew had gone missing, but Rover doubts they could have stopped SC-4R if they had known.

Something pricks the back of Rover's neck, and he slaps the spot reflexively.

He blinks.

Nothing was supposed to be able to penetrate the suit he was wearing, how could he have felt anything at all?

Stomach twisting, he turns, slowly.

The air vent was hanging open, the form of something hovering behind him. Long tail twisting lazily, pointed tip glistening with some liquid in the dim light.

Before the scream can leave his throat, Rover is pinned over the captain's desk.

"Finally..." the creature purred, long tongue running a strip across Rover's cheek, "A proper broodmare."

"I'm not your mate," he tried to reason, "I'm a man."

SC-4R laughs, rough and a shallow imitation of the sound.

"Eggs go in...eggs come out. Just need to be safe and warm..." a large hand palms at Rover's flat belly, his legs trembling.

"Don't be scared," the creature's voice drips like water, echoing like a broken radio, sounding human but too rehearsed to be natural, "I'll keep you safe..."

The knife-like tail slices the backside of Rover's suit open, leaving him prone.

"You'll be...a good...mother."

~~~

Nestled in a bed of soiled sheets and pillows, Rover howls in agony. The one sleek plug suit barely clinging to his arms and legs, the belly torn open allowing his swollen womb space to grow.

SC-4R is close by, smiling widely and purring.

"Good...good Rover." his name sounds like a mockery coming from those thin lips, and the way the alien's ice-cold hands rub circles over his aching belly cause a sob to slip from his throat.

"Kill me...please, kill me!"

The monster moves closer, looking all too pleased.

"Good work...eggs are ready." he nuzzles into Rover's neck, nipping at the red, bitten skin. In only a week Rover's flat belly had grown into a heavy swell, quivering with life as the eggs inside tumbled about while his muscles continually strained around them.

"No...no, please...Scar...I don't want to..." it's pointless to beg, but Rover isn't sure what else to do. His body had changed, morphed into something he couldn't recognize. Doing things it had no business doing, harboring life the universe wasn't prepared for.

With another chuckle, Scar's tail flicks into the air. The pointed tip jabbed into Rover's bulging navel. It burns, hot and bright, his back arching off the floor, eyes going wide as a silence scream falls from his lips.

All at once, something thick and sticky bursts from his hole, and his womb begins to contract.

"Good Rover," SC-4R chips, "Will have lots of babies...never...be alone...again..."

[cosmiccannibalcamille]

Your Venus in Scorpio Horoscope

What: Venus in Scorpio

When: Sept. 22 - Oct. 17

Who’s Impacted: EVERYONE, but esp. Fixed Signs

Takeaway: With the love planet slithering through the sultry water sign, love, art, and money are about to get real intense. 

     In case you haven’t read your weekly horoscope, then you might not know that your relationships, romance, creativity, and money-making prowess are about to be transformed in a stealthy, sexy way. On Sep. 22, Venus is taking a plunge into the mysterious waters of Scorpio until Oct. 17. It's a short Venus transit, I know, but it isn't your average stroll through the Venusian park; it's more like a steamy jungle trek, where hidden desires, tangled webs, and secret treasures await.     

     I won’t sugarcoat it: Venus in Scorpio is intense. The planet of love isn’t exactly thrilled to be in the fixed water sign—mostly because Scorpio is ~technically~ one of Venus’ opposite signs; and in Scorpio, those typical Venusian treats—pleasure, ease, connection—don’t exactly thrive. This is largely because Scorpio has two really powerful (and scary) planets influencing it: Mars & Pluto. These two cosmic juggernauts don’t adhere to the same “peace, love, art, and good vibes only” code of conduct that Venus does. They’re more of a “fight, destroy, chase, annihilate, pierce, puncture, and transform” type of energy. 

     That therein is the crux of Venus in Scorpio transit: If Venus wants peace and love, Scorpio wants drama and lust; if Venus wants pleasure, Scorpio wants pain; and if Venus wants easy-going-and-flowing sensuality, Scorpio wants passion. And lots of it. This isn’t to say Venus in Scorpio is a terrible transit—because it isn’t; it’s just a bit more emotionally intense. (after all, Scorpio is a water sign!) 

     Scorpio is the sign of the Scorpion, so yeah, this Venus transit stings. And by “stings,” I mean love, rejection, crushes, romance, flirting, and all those messy feelings hurt more than usual. Venus in Scorpio isn’t just a mild heartache—it’s Anck-Su-Nanum plunging a dagger into gut for Imhotep in The Mummy. In other words: This transit doesn’t do halfway.

     Whether it’s your finances, love life, or creative ventures, Venus in Scorpio is Beetlejuice, dragging you to the emotional underworld. It’s intense, dramatic, and sometimes downright dark. Be ready to dive deep, but beware of getting stuck in the obsession zone. Venus in Scorpio plays for keeps. You might find yourself obsessing over what you can’t have—or hoarding what you already do. Just watch out: what you crave could come with a sharp edge.

     Your values—both in life and in love—are in for a transformation with Venus in Scorpio. This is a period when change is deliciously desirable; transformation is a fetish, and the process of elimination is your largest ally in creative / relational / financial decision-making. The problem is Venus in Scorpio only knows what it doesn’t want before it knows what it actually needs. And if that isn’t confusing enough, then the push/pull between pleasure and pain, hanging on and letting go, along with the dilemma of self-indulgence and self-restraint, certainly will be.

     There’s a tendency to covet, envy, and obsessively crave what is / isn’t yours with the transit, which can make sharing a tad difficult. Even so, Venus in Scorpio is alluring, magnetic, seductive, dramatic, and hella creative. Which is really good news for your current partnerships and/or creative projects (so long as you stay loyal to them and don’t go around teasing other suitors/projects just for the thrill of it). 

[whispers-soundtrack-project]

Something Wicked

Playlist Part Four

Part One * Part Two * Part Three

A “soundtrack” to my in-progress TMNT horror fic “Something Wicked”

Link to the Spotify Playlist is at the bottom of the post

Beware Of Darkness (Hidden Citizens & Ranya)

Watch out now, take care * Beware of the thoughts that linger * Winding up inside your head

In My Blood (Tommee Profitt & Fleurie)

Little heart * Keep on beating * Beating like a little drum * Tell my lungs * To keep on breathing * Till the setting of the sun

Set Me Free (KELSON)

Feeling broken and I'm worn out * I got nowhere left to go now * I've been trying to make it right * Don't care what I left behind

Will I Fall (Zayde Wolf)

I've been talkin' with the darkness * And listening to what she says * And I've been touchin' all the shadows * That are hidin' in my head.

The Razor's Edge (Piano Version) (Digital Daggers)

I'm scared 'cause the past * Keeps pulling me back * Distorting the future * It's holding me close * It loves me the most * It's tearing the sutures

Black Sky (WAR*HALL)

The storm is here * It feeds your fear * The winter is rolling * The death bell is tolling * You hear the drums * The cold blood runs * The winter is rolling

This Is A Call (Les Friction)

All alone in spite of everything that's true * I have everything to do with you * We all failed to stop what came to pass * Winter's come and everyone will sleep at last

Man or a Monster (Sam Tinnesz, ft. Zayde Wolf)

When you close your eyes, what do you see? * Do you hold the light or is darkness underneath? * In your hands, there's a touch that can heal * But in those same hands, is the power to kill

It's A Sin (Hidden Citizens)

As I look back upon my life * It's always with a sense of shame * I've always been the one to blame * For everything I long to do * No matter when or where or who * Has one thing in common, too * It's a sin

Sleeping Sickness (City and Colour)

I've become * A simple souvenir of someone's kill * And like the sea * I'm constantly changing from calm to ill * Madness fills my heart and soul * As if the great divide could swallow me whole * Oh, how I'm breaking down

[thewindsofwolves]

Jon Snow & Sansa Stark Book Parallels & Mentions 40/∞ : Beware the hidden dagger, for it is more dangerous than the one in plain sight...

"Tell me, Alayne—which is more dangerous, the dagger brandished by an enemy, or the hidden one pressed to your back by someone you never even see?" "The hidden dagger." "There's a clever girl." A Storm Of Swords, Sansa VI

"It is not the foes who curse you to your face that you must fear, but those who smile when you are looking and sharpen their knives when you turn your back. You would do well to keep your wolf close beside you. Ice, I see, and daggers in the dark. Blood frozen red and hard, and naked steel. It was very cold."  A Dance With Dragons, Jon I

[m1d-45]

i’m having shining nikki sagau thoughts everybody beware. so first of all like i remembered that elves canonically exist in miraland (idk if we ever mentioned this before) and there’s elves or at least elf-like creatures in teyvat…… i’m connecting the dots (<- they’re not connecting shit)

second of all. the new skins. “sailwind shadow” and “blossoming starlight” are SUCH designer’s reflection names like if i opened up shining nikki and saw those there they wouldn’t even be out of place. idk about everyone else but i think it would be cute if sailwind shadow was bandit. i have more to say but i need time to put my thoughts in Order - teddy anon

shining nikki!!

honestly despite red being in my head on and off, i didn’t even CONSIDER sailwind shadow and that is a tragedy. i have his skin but didn’t do the quest relating to it yet (it’s a costume he wears for a play right?) but the entire thing with this event. god he’s so perfect.

blossoming starlight is probably just klee but higher energy and less fear, and while i don’t doubt the power of klee dps i do doubt your conscience allowing you to bring a child into battle, double so after red split. she’s just. a little girl. so we move on.

sailwind shadow. i’ll choose to interpret him as a mix of the dagger bandit and kaeya himself, which makes for a fun little guy in my opinion. always trying to sneak you off to somewhere “more interesting than sitting around all day, no?” and thinks that the others are being far too uptight. does he understand the gravity of the hunt? absolutely. but whereas red (and the two archons) want to keep you safe in the cave you’ve made home, he’d much rather whisk you away down a path in the forest.

less for combat, i’d imagine, leaving that to nikki and the others. has quite a few stories to tell, most made up but some gathered from his weak memory. dislikes kaeya, but less so than red, surprisingly. he seems to view him as having no other choice, that he’s “already conflicted enough without that fake touting him about as their sword.” he views kaeya with more pity than anything else.

he and red have a.. strange relationship. at their cores, they are diluc and kaeya, but that affection is hidden beneath the several layers of trauma painted over. they both worry for the other in their own ways—he checks red for injuries from afar when you all regroup after a fight, and red makes sure to make chicken mushroom skewers when he’s having a bad day—but it’s still a tough trial. it’ll probably go quicker than diluc and kaeya, but you’ll have to wait a while before they connect properly.

in his early stages, he’s not all that dissimilar from red. clingy and always hesitant to leave, but does do more to try and keep your attention on him. he’s kaeya at his core and the costume is from a play, so he’s got quite a few tricks up his sleeve to prolong his stay.

(these tricks commonly include starting to tell you a story only to reveal that the ‘ancient artifact’ is one of fischl’s arrows, or red’s rings. your laughter is enough to keep him stealing them back—anything to be the source of that shine in your eyes.)

less prone to violence than red, and definitely safer to take out in public after everything’s over. at worst, he’ll make a passing comment, but is too worried about his image. what if you see him sneer, or if the other person sees and tells you? no no no, it’s far safer to just pull you away again, even if he has to lie as to why. you’ll understand if the crowds are getting to him, or if he feels trapped indoors, right? you were meant to be amongst nature anyway, so if anything he’s just doing you a favor, surely.

(he doesn’t often leave your side as you sleep, but he did see red in the middle of.. taking care of some things once. while he prefers to keep his hands clean—it’s awfully hard to lie to you, and he doesn’t think he could stay quiet if you asked—he doesn’t look down on red’s choice of problem solving. he recognizes the person beneath his boot anyway, hands slightly twitching at the memory from earlier today. when the two of them return to camp by morning, he lets red do most of the talking, only adding in the small half truth of “just having some fun” when prompted. he did his best to wipe his sword clean of any unsavory stains, but does keep it safely in it’s sheath whenever you’re around.)

however, just because he’s less violent than red doesn’t mean the source of said violence went away. he still gets jealous, and if he finds his theatrics don’t make you laugh as much as they used to, he‘ll begin to panic. are you growing bored with him? are his stories getting predictable? do you look down on him for running away with hunters with you instead of staying like the others do? he promises he’s not just dead weight! please, what does he have to do? do you want him to be more like barbatos? he can’t quite help you fly like he can, but he can try to pick up a bow! do you like red more? he’d really rather not get blood on his outfit, but anything for you. anything, anything at all… just keep your attention on him for a little longer. please?

[jeepersbxch]

The Way, 𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing. Original Female Character (Navi)/Recom Colonel Miles Quaritch

summary. The sky people are back and Navi imposters begin to invade the lands of Pandora.

warnings. violence, cussing, idk. i’ll be more thorough if this doesn’t flop. if this doesn’t flop, beware this is quaritch redemption fic.

A silence hung in the air as two figures crouched beneath the dense shrubs, concealed in the shadows of the forest. Out in the open, a fully grown yerik stood, its skin a dark blue, patterned with white and yellow stripes. Around its sloped scalp were its retractable fan structures, with their own patterns that resembled another pair of eyes to ward off predators. With its neck gracefully arched towards the forest floor, the yerik indulged in the flora it found to snack on, unaware of the danger lurking towards it. Suddenly, the sharp crack of a branch being broken jolted its attention back to its senses.

In an instant, its head jerked upwards, its fans retracting and bursting open in full bloom, while the rest of its body froze in alertness and possible fear. Diligently, its eyes scanned the area, searching for the source behind the noise, but were only met with shrubs, unaware of the figures hidden within them. With cautious steps, the yerik regains the confidence to continue eating.

Meanwhile, still concealed amidst the foliage, those two figures had their eyes fixated on the yerik with unwavering intensity. One was armed with a bow and a quiver that was brimming with arrows, while the other stood as silent encouragement, cautiously guiding the others' every move.

In a moment of uncertainty, a pair of brown eyes met a pair of green ones, their gazes locking in an unspoken connection. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, a soft gleam emanated from the green eyes, instilling a newfound confidence within the owner of the brown eyes. With this surge of assurance, they prepared their bow.

A heavy silence settled between them. The air seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself recognized the weight of the moment. In this intense stillness, the pair of green eyes watches their companion with a tender fondness, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of their lips. Pride blossomed within their chest as the other took a deep breath, their body aligning with precision and purpose. The brown-eyed archer exuded a quiet determination, ensuring that their posture and aim were flawless. And then, in a moment that seemed endless, the arrow was released, soaring through the air with a graceful purpose.

With a dull thump, the yerik falls to the ground, thrashing violently as it lands on its side. With only a few minutes until the adrenaline wears off until the creature can feel the pain of being pierced by the arrow, the two figures quickly make their way towards it.

In a swift motion, a young human boy with large brown eyes gently places his bow aside, reaching for a dagger that rested by his side. Kneeling beside the squirming beast, the boy speaks in a low voice, his tone gentle and genuine.

"Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo."

I see you, Brother, and I thank you.

"Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea,"

Your spirit will run with Eywa.

"Tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì."

While your body will remain and become part of the People.

With those words spoken, the boy takes his dagger to the creatures hidden heart and with focused determination, sinks his blade deeps into its chest. His eyes close, the words "thank you" and prayers of Eywa playing over and over again in his head as the creature finally succumbs to the darkness, it's spirit landing back into Eywa's welcoming arms.

As the creature draws it's last breath, the green-eyed observer's heart swelled with admiration, knowing that the young man had embraced his true potential in that single, decisive act.

A hand, tinted in a serene shade of blue and adorned with four fingers, gently extends itself over the boy's shoulder. He instinctively turns his head, his eyes meeting the gaze of the woman he cherished.

"You've accomplished a clean and respectful kill, my little warrior." The na'vi woman praised with a beaming smile adorning her lips, "Well done." She added, making sure her words pierced deeply into his heart, leaving no doubt about how proud she truly was.

"I see you, sa'nok." The boy expresses, his words carrying a deep sense of recognition and appreciation.

"And I see you, my son."

"Whoo!"

"Go, Monkey Boy!"

"Guys, wait up!"

The day is bright and warm, creating a comforting atmosphere for the four hyperactive children that ran along the heavy tree lines, jumping and flying through the air, effortlessly moving from one branch to the next. Making their way deeper into the forest, they remained close as they ran together and navigated the terrain. Their apparent bond showed through their adventure as they all smiled and laughed with one another. As the four of them continued on, one decided to stay behind for a bit to play with a wiggling plant.

"Tuk! Keep up!" Called Lo'ak.

"Okay, okay." Tuktirey, or Tuk, responded in an exaggerated breath.

Catching up with others, Tuk's steps fall right behind theirs again and they all traveled once more together as a group.

"Bro, why'd you bring her anyway?" Spider questions as he descended from a branch, landing skillfully on his feet.

The group naturally slows to a halt as Lo'ak goes to explain the presence of his youngest sister.

"She's such a crybaby," he complains. "She's all, 'I'm telling.' 'You're not supposed to go to the battlefield.' 'I'll tell mom if you don't let me come'" He adds, mimicking his baby sisters high-pitched voice.

"Don't pick on her," Kiri is quick to defend.

However, it seems that Tuk doesn't take Lo'ak's words to heart or is just too childish to care about her brother's teasing because all she does to retaliate is stick her tongue out at him.

With a roll of his eyes, Lo'ak begins running again, waving his arm for the others to follow, along with a "come on!"

A couple of minutes later, they come across something tangled within the branches and vines of the gathering trees.

"Oh, sick!" Spider exclaims with excitement as he gets closer to the battered aircraft.

"Are there any dead bodies up there?" Tuk's voice echoes as the two boys climb higher to investigate further.

As the three of them continue their playful exploration and examination of the human aircraft, Kiri ventures out on her own, heading deeper into the forest. She extends her arms out, relishing the feel of the different flowers and leaves caressing her skin, a smile of awe and amazement framing her lips.

Enchanted by the beautiful creations of Eywa, the presence of the others fades into the background as Kiri lies upon a patch of grass that appears to be breathing in harmony with her own. Comfortable in the embrace the grass offers, she is lulled into a trance-like state before falling into a peaceful sleep.

"Dude, your dad is gonna freak if he finds out about this," Spider playfully chides as he attempts to peek through the shattered window of the spaceship.

"What dad doesn't know won't kill him. Besides, lets not pretend your mom is any better." Lo'ak taunts back, his lips pulled up into a mischievous smirk.

Spider snorts at that remark, "At least she's cooler than your dad." He playfully jabs.

"My father is the Toruk Makto! No one is cooler than him." Lo'ak exclaims with pride, thumping a fist against his chest.

Amongst the conversation, Spider laughs, "Toruk Makto or not, my mother can still kick his ass any day of the week. And you know it too!"

Though it was very true that Spider's adoptive mother could take Jake down in a matter of seconds during combat, Lo'ak went on in his denial, whining about how it wasn't true, despite witnessing his father get his ass handed to his by his mother's cousin a numerous amount of times. Before Spider could get pulled further in by Lo'ak's antics, he veers off after noticing one of his friends missing.

Passing through the cascading plants, he stumbles upon a secluded patch of grass and nestled in the center of it lies Kiri, sleeping soundly as��atokirina's from the Tree of Souls dances around her body. He quickly walks over to her, dropping to his knees at her side to shake her awake.

"Kiri, Kiri," he said her name persistently until her eyelids finally fluttered open, awakening her from sleep.

With a heavy body, she sluggishly rises and shifts her posture to meet Spider's gaze, weariness displayed across her face.

"I was doing that thing again, wasn't I?" Kiri asks solemnly, toned with self-awareness.

"Yeah, you were," Spider replies, his voice accompanied by a gentle swatting motion to push the seed that swayed around his face.

The gentle smile of Spider's face brightens the na'vi girl's spirit and for a moment, the two share a comforting silence, smiling at each other before Kiri's name is being called upon by her brother and sister.

The soft grin on Spider's face brightens the spirit of the na'vi girl. In that short moment, a comforting silence envelops them both, as they exchange smiles filled with solace. However, their tranquil few seconds are abruptly interrupted when Kiri's name is being called upon by her siblings.

"Kiri! Come on, we have to go!" Tuk exclaims urgently.

With Spider's gentle assistance, Kiri gracefully rises from the lush green grass and four of them begin their trek back home. With Lo'ak in the lead, they proceed along a sturdy tree trunk, their footsteps blending with the symphony of the forest. The rustling leaves and distant calls of wildlife surround them, creating a harmonious backdrop for their journey home. Until, Lo'ak noticed something imprinted in the mud.

Ignoring the question from his sister, he is followed by Spider to get a closer look tracks. The print resembles a foot of some kind, a two legged creature, but it was not from na'vi, as it seemed whoever left the footprints behind was wearing shoes. Humans?

"It's way to big for a human." Lo'ak informs before looking further along the path to see more footprints.

"Avatar?" Spider questions, his brown eyes swimming with concern, earning a distraught look from Lo'ak.

"Maybe, but they're for sure not ours."

With a piercing screech, the majestic ikran soared through the skies, its wings slicing through the air. The predominant hue of its skin was mostly a dark shade of green, with delicate traces of magenta and purple adorning certain areas, creating a captivating color scheme. Its eyes, on the other hand, gleamed with a mesmerizing golden hue, adding charm to its appearance.

It's rider, perched atop the creature's back, smiled contentedly while surveying her surroundings with tranquility. But her attention was pulled away from the peaceful views of her home when her name was called upon.

"Ayteya!"

The green eyes of the rider followed the sound of the voice, leading her gaze to another Na'vi woman gracefully perched atop her own ikran. A wide smile spread across the newcomer's face, mirroring the rider's joy. The connection between the two were evident as they skillfully maneuvered their ikrans around each other in a synchronized dance. Amidst the graceful movements, Ayteya called out to her cousin, her voice carrying a sense of familiarity and warmth.

"Your mate seems rather slow today, my dear cousin!" Ayteya's voice carried across the wind, laced with playful banter and affectionate teasing.

Neytiri glanced over her shoulder, ensuring the well-being of her mate, before turning her gaze back to Ayteya, a genuine smile gracing her features.

"He worries endlessly for our youngest children," Neytiri confided, her voice tinged with a mix of fondness and concern. "Despite my reassurances, he still mopes," she added, a hint of playfulness in her tone. The bond between them allowed for open conversation about their shared responsibilities and the quirks of Jake Sully.

Speaking of the mighty Toruk Makto, Jake finally catches up with his mate and cousin-in-law, wearing a slight pout on his face. "I don't mope!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness.

Ayteya couldn't help but burst into laughter at his response. "Of course, brother!" she retorted, playfully teasing him in return.

Just as Jake was about to respond, a resounding "whoop" pierced the air, capturing everyone's attention. Suddenly, like a streak of lightning, the eldest of the Sully children soared through the sky astride his ikran. A radiant smile adorned his face, mirroring the striking resemblance of both his parents.

"So, what is this I hear about Dad moping?" Neteyam inquires with an amused expression.

Ayteya and Neytiri burst into giggles, sharing a playful moment as Jake shoots his oldest son a deadpanned look, laced with a hint of mischief.

"Better watch yourself, kid," Jake jests, joining in on the playful banter.

Undeterred by the floating mountains that encircled them, the four continued their flight, their ikrans gracefully weaving around each other in perfect harmony. With nimble maneuvers, they skillfully swerved left and right, effortlessly avoiding the colossal obstacles that loomed in their path.

As Ayteya rode on her ikran, her thoughts drifted towards her only child, who was undoubtedly with the rest of the Sully children, causing trouble. Spider was a good and respectable boy. She had no worries that he would be on his best behavior. But with Lo'ak, who knew what those two could get themselves into. Memories of when Spider and Lo'ak were young swam through Ayteya's mind, causing a heartwarming smile to appear on her lips.

Though the two of them could get into some serious trouble, Ayteya was grateful that her son had such a strong friendship, not only with Lo'ak but also with the rest of the Sully children. Just then, the thought of Jake and Neytiri entered her thoughts and a small frown catered her lips. Jake was a loyal and kind Olo'eyktan, and it was no surprise that he welcomed Spider when hearing of the boys birth that occurred before the war amongst the sky people even began. After all, Jake Sully was born human. His sympathies towards Spider helped calm Ayteya's worries if something were to happen to her.

She knew that the great Toruk Makto would watch over her son if the need arose. It was his mate, and her dear cousin, that caused her stress.

Spider was a mere newborn after the war ended, a child created by the sky peoples deity, only to be born in the arms of Eywa. Raised among the Na'vi, he embraced their ways and cherished the village as if he shared the same blood as them. Ayteya knew of Neytiri's apprehension towards their adopted son and understood her guarded nature to a certain degree. However, it left her perplexed and uncertain in certain aspects.

In the depths of her heart, Ayteya held onto a glimmer of hope that, despite her perpetual confusion, Neytiri would safeguard Spider as if he were her own flesh and blood in case something were to happen to her.

Lost in her thoughts, Ayteya failed to notice as Jake's youngest son spoke through the comms that all the Sully's were provided with.

"Devil Dog, this is Eagle Eye, over." echoed Lo'ak's voice through the small speaker.

Jake's finger instinctively pressed against the button on the collar encircling his neck, and he swiftly replied, "Eagle Eye, send your traffic."

In that moment, Neytiri clicked her tongue to grab her cousin's attention. Ayteya's gaze shifted towards Neytiri, who subtly nodded her head towards her mate. Ayteya's eyes then turned to Jake, her expression tinged with uncertainty.

"I got eyes on some guys." Ayteya could hear Lo'ak's voice crackling through the speaker. "They look like avatars, but they're in full camo and carrying ARs."

Ayteya glanced back and forth between Neytiri and Jake, the three of them exchanging indecipherable glances.

"There's six of them, over." Lo'ak finishes.

Ayteya could hear Jake asking where Lo'ak was located, but an unsettling silence hung in the air before the young boy finally responded to his father. His delay filled Ayteya with a sense of worry.

"We're at the old shack," Lo'ak informed nervously, causing Neytiri's and Ayteya's eyes to widen.

"Who's 'we'?" Jake asks sternly.

Lo'ak's voice faltered for a moment, his words hanging in the air, "Me, Spider-" The mere mention of her son sent a jolt through Ayteya's heart, causing it to momentarily freeze. "Kiri... And Tuk," he finally added, his voice filled with a mix of worry and shame.

As the name of their youngest is uttered, a flicker of uneasiness crossed Neytiri's eyes as she gasps quietly. Jakes eyes hardened as his he lowers his voice.

"Son," Jake's voice resonated with authority, "you listen to me very carefully." His words carried a sense of urgency. "You pull back right now. Do not make a sound."

The sound of Jake's instructions caused Ayteya's heart to quicken its pace. Her mind became consumed with thoughts of her beloved Spider, her precious son. Was he alright? Would he he be alright?

"You get the hell out of there." Jake's voice demanded, "Move, you copy?"

"Yes sir, moving out." Is all Lo'ak reply before cutting out.

A deafening silence hung in the air, broken only by the sudden appearance of Neteyam, who swiftly flew to the front of the group.

"Dad, I know a a quick way!" he exclaimed, his voice filled determination.

Ayteya wasted no time in following closely behind Neytiri and Jake as they soared through the air, trailing behind Neteyam. It was in this moment, as they flew in close proximity, that Ayteya became acutely aware of the approaching eclipse. The darkness loomed ominously, casting an eerie shadow over their path.

The time slipped away from Ayteya as worry consumed her and before she knew it, they reached their destination, guided by Neteyam's lead. The trio followed him to a halt, their ikrans gracefully landing on the side of a towering tree.

Ayteya swiftly patted her ikran on the side of its head, expressing her gratitude before disconnecting her tswin. Positioned at the side of her loyal companion, she reached for her bow and arrows, ensuring they were ready for use. She also made sure her daggers were securely fastened at her side, ready to be drawn if needed.

As Jake and Neytiri prepared themselves for the next move, Jake suddenly halted Neteyam from moving forward with them.

"No, no," Jake instructed firmly, his voice filled with concern. "You stay with the ikran." He emphasized, his fatherly instincts kicking in.

"But dad... I'm a warrior like you. I'm supposed to fight!" Neteyam argued, his voice filled with determination and a desire to prove himself.

"Neteyam..." Neytiri warns.

As the three continued their discussion, Ayteya stood a few feet ahead, her mind consumed by thoughts of Spider. Her heart ached with worry for her son, and her thoughts swirled with a mix of fear and determination. Despite understanding Jake's reasons for needing to have a conversation with his eldest, she couldn't help but feel that they were wasting precious time. However, just as irritation began to creep into her thoughts, Jake and Neytiri swiftly approached her.

Covering a mere half-mile on foot, they arrived at the children's location, only to find the sun had already disappeared and rain had started falling. Navigating through the dense undergrowth in the darkness, Ayteya and Neytiri inhaled the surrounding air. The unmistakable aroma of Spider's scent filled Ayteya's senses, momentarily calming her racing heart before her anxiety resurfaced. The presence of other unfamiliar scents were mixed into the air as well.

With simple hand gestures from Jake, the three all moved in different directions. While Neytiri went left and Jake went right, Ayteya moved straight ahead. Clutching her bow tightly, an arrow ready for release, she cautiously advanced, seeking refuge behind one of the many trees. Peering ahead, her gaze descended into the thick undergrowth, where she could see movement. In her line of sight and through the thicket of the rain, she spotted Tuk, her wrists bound tightly, held captive by someone that looked similar to the avatars that were allowed to to stay on Pandora.

Ayteya's heart skipped a beat as her eyes fell upon a sight that froze her in her tracks. Not far from Tuk was Kiri and Spider. Their wrists were tightly restrained and they too were being held by someone. Witnessing the Na'vi imposter's rough treatment of her son ignited a fiery rage within her.

Glancing to her left, Ayteya locked eyes with Neytiri, who offered a brief nod of acknowledgement, silently conveying their shared determination.

As Ayteya refocused her gaze on the scene below, Neytiri parted her lips, emitting a subtle yet powerful bird-like sound that resonated through the air.

Observing the flicker of recognition on the children's faces, Ayteya received a confirming nod from Neytiri. Emboldened, she parted her own lips, releasing a resonant bird-like call that echoed through the forest, blending in with the symphony of raindrops cascading around her.

In response to her call, Ayteya observed a glimmer of light in Spider's eyes. Within in him sparked hope, encouraging her to repeat her call again. She watched as Spider and Lo'ak shared a look before nodding towards each other. This was it.

Turning her gaze towards Neytiri, Ayteya found her cousin already poised with her bow, ready for action. Following her lead, Ayteya swiftly raised her own bow, her skilled eyes fixated on the imposter who held her son captive. With unwavering determination, she aimed her arrow, ready to strike with precision. She waited and waited until Neytiri finally made the first move.

Reacting swiftly, Ayteya released her arrow, watching as it soared through the air with deadly accuracy. The arrow found its mark, piercing the skull of who held Spider and Kiri against their will. As the imposter holding Tuk crumpled to the ground as well from Neytiri's arrow, the sudden turn of events unleashed chaos.

"Contact rear!" a voice growled, followed by another echoing the warning. In a swift response, the captives, armed with guns, unleashed a barrage of shots towards their assailants. The crackling sound of gunfire filled the air as Ayteya crouched down, shielding herself from the stray bullets that whizzed through the air.

"Lo'ak!" Neytiri's voice rang out, and in an instant, a dense fog-like smoke enveloped the surrounding area. The smoke billowed and swirled, obscuring the vision of their enemies and providing a shield of concealment.

With his sharp teeth, Lo'ak sank his fangs into the arms of his captor, freeing himself from their grasp. Ensuring Tuk was with him, they swiftly scampered away, seeking cover amidst the chaos. Spider and Kiri were already running away by then, and Ayteya's gaze followed them. Her heart clenched with a mix of fear and helplessness, but she steeled herself, readying her bow once more.

With a steady hand and unwavering focus, Ayteya released another arrow, watching as it found its mark, piercing the chest of another imposter. With another threat extinguished, Ayteya catches sight of Spider again, who helps guide Kiri away from the fight, ensuring her safety above all else.

'Great mother, please watch over the children.' she thinks before looking back at the fight.

In a fleeting instant, the relentless downpour of bullets comes to a halt, casting an eerie stillness upon the warring factions.

With her arrow poised, Ayteya casts a wary glance towards Neytiri, who returns her gaze with a hint of uncertainty. It's then, a voice, unfamiliar to Ayteya, speaks out.

"That you, Mrs. Sully?" The unknown male asks.

As confusion etches itself onto Ayteya's face, Neytiri's expression morphs into one of subtle horror, her features contorted by a chilling realization. The reaction of her cousin has Ayteya on edge as the male down below speaks again.

"I recognize your calling card." He says before pausing.

The next few moments are silent again, time seeming to stand still, prompting Ayteya to cautiously peer around the tree that shields her. But just as she does, the voice from before speaks again, causing her to quickly duck behind the tree.

"Why don't you come on out, Mrs. Sully." The voice taunts as he refers to Neytiri, "You and I... We've got some unfinished buisness."

Listening intently, Ayteya catches a glimpse of Spider and Kiri running farther from the fight, allowing her to lean back against the tree momentarily, carefully thanking Eywa.

Gazing back at her cousin once more, she observes the transformation of Neytiri's expression, as her face twists into a restrained fury.

"Demon!" Neytiri growls, "I will kill you as many times as I have to!" She adds, her voice dripping with venom.

The threat seems to go unnoticed, as the fake Na'vi taunts, "It seems you and the Corporal have been pretty busy, haven't you? Dropped yourself a whole litter of half-breeds."

Ayteya's attention is abruptly drawn to the sound of a branch snapping. As she turns her head, her eyes widen in horror as the barrel of a gun is aimed directly at her face. The imposter behind the weapon smirks with malicious intent, relishing in the power he holds. However, before his finger can tighten around the trigger, an arrow pierces through his chest. He crumples to the ground lifeless, but Ayteya's focus remains fixed on Neteyam, who still stands in a shooter's stance.

"Na'vi!" A voice, different from the one that was speaking, shouts. Just as Neteyam attempts to prepare another arrow, a hail of bullets comes hurtling towards them.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Jake comes charging in, swiftly pushing his son out of harm's way. He then grabs Ayteya by the arm, forcefully pulling her away from the imminent danger and the three begin to run.

"Move!" Jake yells, "Go, go, go!"

He pushes Neteyam ahead and then Ayteya as bullets spray around them. As Ayteya moves to find cover behind another tree, the other two do the same.

"You okay, boy?!" Jake asks, receiving a swift "yeah" in response from Neteyam.

Ayteya can sense Jake silently asking her the same question with his eyes, to which she nods in affirmation. He gives her a nod back before speaking to both of them.

"Okay, with me! Ready?" Jake instructs, earning a nod from the two of them.

As the barrage of bullets finally ceases, Jake swiftly emerges from his hiding spot behind the tree and retaliates with his own shots. Simultaneously, Ayteya, positioned behind her own tree, releases an arrow with precision. Another round of bullets erupted and in the midst of the chaos, Jake urgently shouts at them to move, urging them to move to safety.

They all resume running, but as Ayteya leaps over a fallen tree, a searing sensation pierces her side. The impact of a bullet jolts her body, causing her to collapse to the ground.

"Ayteya!" she hears Neteyam's desperate shout.

"Run, boy!" she manages to shout back, but Jake leaves no room for hesitation and forcefully pushes Neteyam further away. As Ayteya attempts to rise, she slips in the muddy terrain and stumbles down a steep hill. Despite the pain coursing through her side, she fights to regain her balance, eventually clutching onto a sturdy vine.

"Ayteya!" she hears her name being called once more, this time by Jake.

"Focus on the children! Keep them safe!" she yells through a strained voice, her hand firmly pressed against the spot where the bullet struck her.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Ayteya takes a deep, painful breath and summons every ounce of strength within her. Gripping tightly onto the vine in her hand, she musters the determination to pull herself upright, despite the searing pain that radiates through her body. Letting out a pained growl, Ayteya shakes her head vigorously from side to side, attempting to alleviate the pounding sensation in her head and regain control of her blurred vision.

Despite her swaying eyesight, Ayteya begins to move her feet, placing one carefully in front of the other. The rain pouring down adds to her challenge, but with each step, she focuses on finding her balance and establishing a steady pace, determined to keep moving forward despite the pain and disorientation.

"Ahh!" A pained shout reaches her hears and the vocal tone she is familiar with makes her breath hitch.

Frantically, Ayteya scans her surroundings, desperately calling out the name of her son, "Spider!" Her voice carries a sense of helplessness, but as black spots start to cloud her vision and the rain intensifies, her ability to see clearly diminishes.

The weight of the situation bears down on her, making her feel increasingly vulnerable and disoriented. Tears well up in Ayteya's eyes, but as she takes a step towards the direction of her son's cry, something collides with the side of her head, causing her to collapse to the ground once again.

Her vision blurs even further, but determined to keep going, she quickly sits up, despite her limbs moving sluggishly. Through the haze, she catches sight of a figure moving in front of her. It stands tall on two feet, and she senses immediately that it is not friendly. With the last bit of strength in her, she produces a menacing hiss and prepares herself for whatever danger may come her way.

"Well, ain't you a tough cookie?"

That voice.

'Great Mother, please watch over my son.' Is all Ayteya can think as the blurry figure comes closer. Once more, a hiss escapes her lips, yet even the sound itself wanes in strength.

"Rank up. We're taking her and the boy," the voice echoed once more, but Ayteya struggled to comprehend its words.

Numbness consumed her, rendering her unable to feel anything. Yet, amidst the void, her thoughts raced, fixating on her son's innocent smile that brought her immeasurable joy.

"My son." She whispers before falling unconscious.

A pulsating ache enveloped Spider's skull, muddling his senses. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he caught glimpses of towering trees and the ethereal night sky of Pandora swirling above him. He sensed his body being lifted, but the identity of his carrier eluded him and the exhaustion drained him of any will to care. His head limps to the side, unable to keep the strength to hold it up any longer. It's then he spots a familiar body being carried by someone, just like him

As his eyes widened, Spider's vision blurred, the world around him becoming hazy and indistinct. He could sense his eyelids growing heavy, threatening to seal shut. Yet, before succumbing to the depths of his own darkness, he summoned the last remnants of his strength to whisper a single word to the one he cherished above all else.

"Sa'nok."

⇢ next

I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. I wrote this awhile ago cuz I wanted to write a story, but now I’m not sure. But I’m so proud of this ‘chapter’ that I didn’t want to not post it, y’know? Idk, I might continue on with this story, but I’m not sure. Your feedback and reblogs are so greatly appreciated though.

© jeepersbxch 2024

[cappymightwrite]

Only a Lock of Hair, John Everett Millais / The Wounded Man, Gustave Courbet / Sebastian, Matt Davies / A Storm of Swords, Sansa VI / A Dance with Dragons, Jon XIII

"Tell me, Alayne—which is more dangerous, the dagger brandished by an enemy, or the hidden one pressed to your back by someone you never even see?"

"The hidden dagger."

⁕ ⁕ weapon ⁕ ⁕

"A grey girl on a dying horse. Daggers in the dark. A promised prince, born in smoke and salt. It seems to me that you make nothing but mistakes, my lady. Where is Stannis? What of Rattleshirt and his spearwives? Where is my sister?" [...]

When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold…

[captainthane]

The Broken Soldier

In a night without stars, a broken is walking in a slum with a bottle in his hands. This man is drown in his thoughts, in his anger and in his sorrow. The man walked aimlessly just to enter a bar to drink more alcohol and then to go to another one, repeating this pattern all night. At one point, he had enough and just sit in a bar, waiting for the sun to rise. He was quiet and was hoping to sleep for eternity. Suddenly, a woman joined him and sat next to him. He didn’t pay any attention to her and kept drinking his whiskey. The woman ordered a drink for herself before turning around to check on the man. 

- So this is where you were~It was not easy to find you, Nhilus~ (Woman)

The man called Nhilus didn’t react much and took a sip of his whiskey. 

- Sorry Lady. I’m not the one you should try to flirt with. There are better men or women around. (Nhilus)

The woman giggled and had a darker smile. 

- I could flirt with other mortals but I’m here for you, Nhilus~ I know what you have been through~ 

Nhilus raised an eyebrow when she heard the woman using the word “mortal”. Furthermore, he finally looked at her. 

- Who are you and what do you mean? (Nhilus)

- Those are two interesting questions~ You don’t recognise me?~ (Woman)

The broken man studied the stranger in front of him and felt shivers in his spine. That woman...he saw her before. When...his squad was destroyed by...he jumped from his chair...astonished.

- I remember you! You were the last thing I saw before passing out when...when...(Nhilus)

- When your whole squad was being killed~ I was there~ I...intervened so you could be spared~ (Woman)

- Why?! I kept telling myself what I went through couldn’t be possible...this person...this being cannot be a human! It’s impossible, they were too strong and powerful! We were just supposed to check the place as it was our mission...then we were ambushed and my....my teammates died...all of them...I was next...until...(Nhilus)

- Until I saved your little mortal life~ (Woman)

- Who the hell are you in the end? (Nhilus)

- Follow me outside to receive your answers~ (Woman)

His instincts were telling him it was a bad idea but did he have a choice? His curiosity was also killing him to follow this woman. He stood up and left the bar with the woman. They walked a bit to reach another alley. A man was waiting for them, a blonde hair man. He waved at them and was smiling a lot...weird.

- Well done sister! You found him! (Man)

- That wasn’t too difficult~ I think it’s time we give him proper presentations~ (Woman)

Nhilus was puzzled and didn’t know what to do exactly. The man approached him and shaked his hand. Nhilus felt a powerful strength coming from him.

- I’m Thor and this is my sister, Loki! (Thor)

- Wait...is this a prank? Is this a hidden camera? (Nhilus)

- Hahaha. No it’s not. (Thor)

Suddenly Loki’s clothes changed into her more usual outfit where she was wearing her three daggers. On the other hand, Thor summoned his hammer and axe. He was still smiling while Nhilus was shocked.

- This is not a dream or a hallucination from the alcohol I drank...right? (Nhilus)

- It’s really real, mortal~ (Loki)

Nhilus scrubbed his eyes and his beard. This was so unreal and unbelievable...yet it wasn’t fake. 

- What do you want from me? (Nhilus)

- The good question~ Me and Thor are recruiting you~ Don’t you want to take your revenge on the being that killed your teammates?~ (Loki)

Thor and Loki could see the fire coming back in Nhilus’s eyes. His slumber was done. He was rejuvenated and wanted some action. 

- This is my deepest desire...(Nhilus)

- Good~ Just know that you are now at my service~ I saved your life so you owe me about it~ You follow my orders and I will free you when I will desire it~ Understood? (Loki)

Thor sighed and shrugged while Nhilus was unphased by what Loki said. 

- No reaction?~ (Loki)

- You are Loki, I’m frankly surprised it’s just that and not a more unfair deal. (Nhilus)

- Beware of what you ask~ (Loki)

- But why two beings like you two need the help of someone like me? Aren’t you two powerful and stuff? (Nhilus)

- We are~ (Loki)

- We are. However, we don’t share the same set of skills you have at your disposal and we need those of you to help us. You have to brief you about several points. You are going to enter a whole new world. It’s rare for a mortal. (Thor)

Nhilus was quiet for a few seconds, thinking and processing the whole situation.

- I’m in. (Nhilus)

- I like the spirit! (Thor)

- That’s a good soldier~ (Loki) 

- What is our job? (Nhilus)

- Tracking down the daughter of God and her followers. (Thor)

- Say what now?! (Nhilus)

Loki laughed so much while Thor smiles proudly on Nhilus’s shoulder. 

- Don’t worry, we will step up your game. A new weapon and a special gear just for you to fight such being alongside with us. (Thor)

- Welcome into the divine world, mortal~ (Loki)

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally I was able to introduce Nhilus Hawkins ^^ He will work alongside with Thor and Loki to track down Ghemora as requested by Lilith ^^ I hope you will enjoy the story ^^

Thor, Loki and Nhilus belong to me

Okaria et feria belongs to me and @wildstarfan

[whitecatindisguise]

The Sundrop Alchemist (4)

Posting a little bit earlier today, bc thought we all need some fluff and happy times after the RP thread.

Anyway, onwards.

Summary: Varian decides to go see the birthday lights with the help of rather unwilling intruder. But what can he do to convince him...?

AO3 link is here

------

Chapter 4: The Unwilling Helper

With a little help from Ruddiger, Varian managed to move the intruder from the closet, onto the chair. The two then tied the boy’s hair around the body like a rope. Ruddiger made sure the hold was secure. Neither knew if the intruder was dangerous but they weren’t going to take any chances. 

When the raccoon finally deemed the knot safe, Varian pulled the chair a little bit closer to the light, himself hiding in the shadows. He nodded at his friend and prepared for the intruder to wake up. 

Ruddiger climbed the teen’s frame. He sat at his shoulder and smacked his cheek with a paw. Varian held his breath. The intruder didn’t even react. Ruddiger shot him a puzzled look and smacked him again and again, with no result, apart from the cheeks reddening. The raccoon huffed in annoyance and scurried down. 

Varian’s eyes followed the animal as it went to the kitchen, grabbed one of the glasses and filled it with water. The raccoon climbed the unconscious teen once again and dumped the whole glass at his head with the biggest I’m-so-done face Varian has ever seen. 

The teen shot up almost instantly, Ruddiger falling off in the process.

“Wha-?” The green eyes widened in shock. “What’s going on? Why am I wet?” His gaze fell on his bindings and he looked truly puzzled. “Is that… hair?”

Varian suck in a breath, clenching the frying pan harder. This was it. 

“S-struggling is pointless.” He creaked out, voice shaking. He gulped and tried to calm himself. The intruder was tied up. It was Varian, who had the upper hand here.

“What?” The intruder turned towards the voice, eyes squinting in an attempt to see through the darkness. 

“You won’t escape, until you answer my questions.” Varian took a steadying breath and stepped into the light, frying pan pointing at the tied teen. “Who are you, and how did you find me?”

The teen blinked in confusion. 

“Woah, you’re a boy?” He asked. Varian’s cheeks reddened with anger and he let the frying pan fall.

The boy stared at the unconscious teen in puzzlement. Ruddiger chittered angrily.

“S-sorry bud. I might have overreacted.” He chuckled nervously. The raccoon continued to chitter as it went back to the kitchen to refill the glass. 

~~~~

“Let’s try again.” Varian said with furrowed brows, when the teen woke up again. “Who are you and how did you find me?”

‘Is this all hair yours?” The intruder asked in return, eyes scanning the room. “That’s a lot of hair. Is it real?”

“Wha-? Of course it’s real and- Hey!” Varian started replying before he noticed the teen changed the subject. He pointed the frying pan at him again. “Just answer the question!” 

“How about a no.” The teen shrugged and looked at him challengingly. “You can’t make me.”

“‘No, but I can let Ruddiger scratch your face.” Varian answered, pointing at the raccoon which growled. 

“Ugh, fine. Name’s Hugo.” The teen, Hugo said. “Hugo McCoy. What about you, Princess?”

SMACK

~~~~

“Why do you have to hit me every damn time?” Hugo growled, drops of water falling down his bangs. “And can’t you find a way to wake me up that doesn’t include making me wet?!”

“We tried to smack your face but you wasn’t reacting.” Varian shrugged. 

“So you just decided to dump water at me? Way to go, Princess.” Hugo growled. 

The long-haired boy flinched and raised the frying pan.

“Do you want me to smack you again?” He threatened, eyes sending daggers. 

“Nah, I’m good.” The tied teen replied, raising open palms to show he was giving back. “So what is your name? Or should I just call you Blondie?”

“I’m Varian, and you can stop with the stupid nicknames.” Varian finally said. “Now, for the second question. How did you find me?”

“I wasn’t looking for you, per se, Sweetcheeks.” Hugo shrugged. “I was running from those crazy guards and more crazy horse while trying not to lose the goods and-” He suddenly stopped himself and looked around frantically. “Wait, where is my satchel?”

Varian smirked.

“I’ve hidden it somewhere you’ll never find it.” He exclaimed proudly. The teen looked at him unamused and then took a scan around the room.

“It’s in this pot, isn’t it?” He asked, pointing with his head at the pot standing behind Varian. 

SMACK!

~~~~

“Alright, now it’s hidden in the place you’ll never find.” Varian marched in front of the tied-up teen. “And you can take apart this tower brick by brick, and you’ll never find it. Only I know where it is.” The raccoon chittered angrily and Varian corrected. “Okay, only I and Ruddiger know where it is.” 

“Nonononono! You don’t understand! I can’t come back without it!” Hugo argued frantically, eyes widening in terror. “Donella’s going to kill me!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it back to you. Now, you were saying something about the… horse?” The long-haired boy cocked his head in confusion.

“Yeah, horse. Four legs, tail, mane, hooves-” The bespectacled teen started but Varian cut him in.

“I know what a horse is, I’m not an idiot!” He cried. 

“Could have fooled me…” Hugo murmured and Varian rose his frying pan higher.

“You’re really asking for another smacking.” He growled. “But why were you running away from the horse?”

“Dunno what they feed that thing, but it’s not normal.” Hugo shrugged, not elaborating. 

“So… you weren’t looking for me?” Varain’s eyes widened in realization. Hugo huffed in response.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you from the beginning!” He exclaimed loudly. “I was running away from the guards and this crazy horse. Found the tunnel. Found the tower. Climbed the tower to hide. End of story! Now, can I have my stuff back?”

“Actually, no.” Varian replied matter-of-factly. He reached for his notebook and showed it to Hugo. “Do you know what these are?”

The tied-up teen squinted his eyes, gazing at the picture. 

“The alchemical lanterns? Yeah, why?” He looked up at the long-haired boy quizzically. “Also, nice drawing.”

“I knew they weren’t stars!” The boy exclaimed, not listening to his hostage anymore. “The colours were off and they were moving too fast to be stars. Plus, they appear only once a year, which is unheard of when it comes to stars.” He turned to Hugo with a serious face. “I’ve come to a decision, Mister McCoy.”

“Just call me Hugo, Blondie.” Hugo cut in and Varian raised the frying pan again. “Okay, Varian.” He corrected and the pan was lowered. “Geez, you need to work on anger control. You can’t just go around smacking people in the head.”

“Anyway, as I was saying.” Varian continued, ignoring completely the last comment. “I’ve come to a decision. Those alchemical lanterns, as you call them, appear only once a year, which is tomorrow night. And you, Hugo, will take me there and bring me safely back into the tower.” The bespectacled blonde looked ready to argue but Varian was having none of it. “Then, and only then I will give you your satchel back. Do we have a deal?”

“Um, no.” Hugo replied quickly. “Can’t you, like, go alone? Why do I have to take you there?”

“I don’t know the way, and you, clearly, do.” Varian answered quickly and smirked. “Of course, I could let you go now, but I already told you. You get the satchel back only after we’re back safely from our little trip.”

Hugo sighed in defeat.

“Okay, I didn’t really wanted to do that, but you give me no choice, Princess.” He somehow managed to reach into his pocket and took out a blue ball. “Beware the power of Alche-!”

SMACK

Hugo’s head fell down, the teen falling unconscious yet again. His grip on the ball loosened and it fell on the floor, rolling away. Varian came closer and picked it up, inspecting it from all angles. 

“Did he really just tried to attack us with a bath bomb?” He asked in confusion, looking at the raccoon sitting on his shoulder. The animal shrugged. 

Varian sighed as he observed the unconscious teen. This is going to be much harder than he imagined.

------

Hugo smack count: 6

Have a good day~

[lyrishadow]

Fictober: Abbey

Prompt26: “How about you trust me for once?” Fandom: Runes of Magic Title: Abbey Pair: Rixa (OC) /Maur (friends OC) Rating: T I wrote this in the universe of Runes of Magic, an mmo available via steam etc. It was my friend’s bday this last week and I wanted to give her a gift. So here is an odd fandom and I don’t know if it has an equivalent on Ao3 but I will post it there as part of my series.

Rixa had begun her existence as a thief and pirate, her family rich off the misfortune of others she had come to the city looking for both redemption and challenge. For what does a thief do to rebel against the family but try and do good instead. Maur had started the other way around, coming from a good family, and wanting to stretch his wings. So they met in the middle and found each other in the midst of all that was going on in the city of Veranas.

it was a rainy day when they set out for the confines of the Abbey, tasked with retrieving several items and bringing an end to the demon spirit deep within. Neither had been there before, the dark and foreboding graveyard did not allow for people to exactly visit regularly. Inside the building, they came across two specialist priests who are keen on cleansing the place of its problems neither wanted to do this of their own accord but we're seeking adventurers such as Rixa and Maur, they gave limited instructions although they were not exactly clear on how to enter into the chambers below, but warned against certain magical doors which lead to places which were not of the present world. “Beware of the nightmare world, you want to avoid that at all costs.” “It is necessary to cleanse this place in the waking world” Agreed the other with all the learned wisdom of a sage, he placed his hands together in front of him. “Now off with you.” 

Fighting their way downstairs past spiders and bats who both seemed to have taken up residence in the Abbey, they found themselves at a dead end.

"How about you trust me for once?" Rixa regarded Maur " this is not the time to be using random doors."

“Huh but it looks cool?” Maur pointed to a door covered with tentacle-like features. “Where do you think it goes?” “It screams nightmare don’t you think?” Rixa replied

“But I don't see any other door” Rixa mused “It must be hidden.” She  turned her back to Maur and looked towards the altar in the center of the room she ran her fingers along the base of the altar looking for a secret door lock Maur hummed to himself a moment, then he turned to her asking “Why don't you try liking the brazier, sometimes those things open secret doors.” Rixa frowned annoyed that she hadn't thought of that herself she lit the brazier with gusto, and the secret door slid open leading them to the entrance of the cavernous below of the Abbey.

“You sure about this?” Rixa asked adjusting straps and daggers on her outfit - her clothes were covered in dust, she wrinkled her nose as she brushed it off the black wondering if there was a color which didn’t attract it. “For a rogue you sure are fussy.” Maur laughed watching her closely. He hefted his shield and sword, testing the weight and smiling when he found it to his liking. Running a hand through his hair, he made the same actions as Rixa and smoothed his outfit - although mail and plate hardly require much smoothing, and Rixa was certain it was an act of imitation and thus teasing. “Yes I am certain, this needs to be done, I have been asked to retrieve several items from in here already.” Maur paused before adding, “I can keep you safe though.”

The abbey on the surface was dark enough, down here you had ghosts and ghouls, but also the bats and spiders which seem to be common all over. The ghouls posed the biggest risk. As another zombie fell to her blades Rixa looked to see Maur watching her. “You look good when you are fighting.” He stated shrugging before turning and using his knight’s ability to smite another zombie that had ambled up. They fought side by side scrambling through the lower areas, fighting the necromancers who were masking the presence of what the priests upstairs referred to as the duke. The duke was a fierce lumbering and very large ghoul. If he had a life before this it was not evident in his presence or his clothing. “This place is crazy.” Maru offered as they watched the duke and prepared for their attack. “I am guessing he isn’t going to just let us walk past and into those doors?” “No, and I think it is going to be a good test.” “Well, don’t die on me,” Maur said with a laugh “I have gotten attached to having you around.” “Oh really?” Rixa sighed she liked Maur a lot more than she let on. “Ready to fight this … thing..?” “He’s a ghoul and like most ghoul’s he is probably going to use fear…” Rixa said analyzing the situation “I suggest we go about this with ca….” Maur had already run into the fight. It was not a short flight, the count was far from nimble but for one so big he moved at lightning speed. Twice Rixa intercepted a blow meant for Maur and regretted it as she cloaked herself in the shadows and ruefully dressed the wounds with healing herbs as fast as she could. “Well.” Maur said as his sword shattered the skull of the ‘duke’ “That was fun.” “Interesting idea of fun…” Rixa muttered sheathing her daggers and looking around “Look the door opened.” “Bricks and mortar, maybe we have made it to the Abbey proper?” “Looks that way, oh…” Rixa stopped short and Maur ran into her with a grunt of surprise. Inside the room, an apparition was pacing, as if waiting for them it turned. The ghost was that of one of the ‘Eye of Wisdom’ people, the ones who had their finger on the pulse of the magic here, and the dangers. “Did I miss something?” Rixa asked, “I feel like they should have told us that there were Eye of Wisdom people here.” “True.” Maur frowned but moved forward past Rixa to talk with the ghost who set them to collect a book from further in. “Heh, the ghost can’t get their book ok.” Rixa muttered, “I guess that is why there are piles of bones everywhere.” They made quick work of the room, the zombies there were harder to fight but the two of them were capable and in sync with each other’s fighting style by now. “Over here!” Maur called from a corner “Pile of books…” He kicked it as he said that and a person rose from behind them, his hands were still bound but he was able to use magic. “What are you doing? You will ruin it!” he screeched as they tried unsuccessfully to just free him from his bindings, the man or being said as he died “Don’t tell anyone I was here…” “Just once I wish people would be happy to be rescued or saved.” Rixa shook her head, it was always something “I mean unless he wanted to be bound up in here…” “Maybe that is his kink?” Maur muttered under his breath waiting for a reaction from Rixa who just stared at him a moment. “Perhaps it is, can’t blame him for that then.” The two of them move through dealing with a large slime, or a ghoul slime? Rixa was not sure which it was except it was large and green. Then across the hall, they fought a ghoul who summoned more small ghouls to the fight. Luckily for both of them, Maur had enough defensive abilities in his repertoire. “Shall we open the large foreboding door at the end of the room?” He asked as he cleaned his sword ready for the next fight. “Of course,” Rixa nodded “What harm could come of it.” “Heh, knew I liked you,” Maur replied pushing the door open they moved to the last battle in the Abbey with enthusiasm. To finally be done here was a definite goal, though Rixa could not help but feel it was just the beginning of the story. Through the door, two masked figures could be seen negotiating with a witch-like demon. Maur and Rixa looked at each other and surged on to defeat their enemy. “Thank you…” That was not the expected response from a ghoul having been defeated, but a ghost, not a ghoul stood in front of them. She told them she had sacrificed herself so that others could escape. Suddenly it made sense, the entire fight had been about controlling the woman’s spirit, who in life had been a powerful mage, in death had been taken over by a demon who turned that power to their ends. They returned the book to the ghost who requested it and carried on until they were outside. “So I guess we part ways?” Rixa asked “Do we have to?” “Maybe for a time.” she paused “But if you need me all you need to do is ask; and I will be around.” “Thanks. I… yes the same to you.” Maur had an honest blush on his face which made Rixa stop a second. “Never far Maur, just keep that in mind!” She mounted her horse and swinging a dark cloak around her shoulders and over her hair she rode off. 

[jefferoni-quotes]

Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

A oneshot based off of this animatic - THIS ONE - by @invireso ! Sorry it took so long-

Words: 3,018

TW: For blood, death and general sad times. I like angst oops-

- - -

Beware... beware Be skeptical

John, Alex and Thomas were always close friends. Well "friends." They were more like business partners. Perhaps like a trio of bandits galloping around the Wild West, taking out those in their way. They may not have been particularly fond of each other, but no matter what they had their groups back. Nothing got in the way of their jobs.

Their jobs being essential assassins. The group of vagabonds would be set a wealthy upper class target, and they were to dispose of them.

Of their smiles, their smiles Of plated gold

Alexander was definitely the groups leader. He ensured everyone had a job, a position and that's they stuck to their assignment like Elmer's glue. He was the brains behind the project. He was like the choreographer of their deadly dance.

John was act two. If the brawn didn't work, he would launch to attack, as if he were a rabid hound crouching in the dark shadows of an alleyway, just waiting for his prey to scamper past. He was ruthless and merciless. Heartless no doubt.

And Thomas? Well Thomas was the brawn. They strongest of the three by an overwhelming amount. His height was also good for intimidating possible witnesses into leaving the premise.

They were the perfect deadly salad.

Deceit, so natural But a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning!

Then came that day.

The men had been given a rich woman to take out. Her name was Martha Wayles, a 24 year old female from Virginia who'd recently moved to New York.

Alex, John and Thomas were hidden in a tucked away alley, watching the woman move down the street, her phone in hand. Alexander clicked his tongue, signifying that she was coming their way. Hamilton and Laurens had pulled up their neckerchiefs up to cover their mouths and noses, but Jefferson concluded it would look more sketchy if a man in a mask lunged out of the darkness towards you. So he played it casual.

Baa, baa Black sheep Have you any soul?

Thomas saw the cool metal of a knife glint in the shimmering sunlight and took it by the handle from John, peaking out the wall. He chewed nervously on his lip, fingers hovering over the material tied loosely around his neck,

No, sir By the way What the hell are morals?

He ducked his head back in and turned to watch Alexander carefully swing a baseball bat over his shoulder and it brushed last his pony tail.

John clutched the cold steel of a pistol and narrowed his eyes, ready in case anything went wrong.

Jack, be nimble Jack, be quick Jill's a little whore

Martha scrolled aimlessly through her Facebook feed, chucking lightly at some sort of dead meme. She tapped a happy birthday message out to her good friend Dolley on Facebook.

And her alibis are turning tricks! So could you tell me how you're sleeping easy?

Thomas waiting for the brief signal from Alex. When the smaller man nodded he sprung into action, keeping the dagger behind his back and beginning to pull up his neckerchief.

Martha spun around when she heard faint footsteps behind her. She made eye contact with a man. He was tall with dark skin and curly hair. She felt a small flush run to her cheeks. Thomas went pink and coughed awkwardly before allowing the knife to slip from between his fingers and clang to the floor.

How you're only thinking of yourself?

"Uh, I'm, um..." Thomas bumbled stupidly. "I'm Tho-Thomas Jefferson."

"Martha."

Show me how you justify Telling all your lies like second nature?

Alexander grit his teeth and whistled, a sign for Thomas to leave. Jefferson heard the calling card and chewed the bottom of his lip. "I'm sorry, I have to go. It was nice to meet you!" And he scampered off, sighing into his hands. Hamilton was going to kill him.

"What the hell was that?!" Alexander gesticulated in anger.

Thomas shrugged.

"You're so dumb." John added.

Listen, mark my words one day You will pay You will pay!

That night at John and Alex's shared home an argument broke out. But no normal yelling. There was rage bubbling in their veins and if you were there, you would be able to smell the fury in the air. "What the fuck was that today?!" John started.

"I dunno, man!" Thomas answered calmly.

"'I dunno, man' isn't a respectable reply, Jefferson! You were supposed to kill her, yet you actually friended her on Facebook!?" Alexander shot back furiously.

"To be fair, she added me first."

"I can't believe you! What's gotten into you? We used to be the perfect team. Like the reverse Musketeers!" John yelled, sticking a pointed finger at Thomas' face.

"Get out of my face!" Thomas slapped his hand away. "Maybe I don't wanna be a part of this stupid group anymore! I wanna settle down!"

"Thomas, we're like a clan, you can't leave!" Alexander pressed.

"I can and I will! Damn you all to hell!"

Karma's gonna come collect your debt!

Thomas stormed the home, slamming the door closed so hard it shook the hinges.

Over the next months, he and Martha Wayles formed a close romantic relationship. He took her out. Just... not with a weapon.

He'd never believed in the idea of soulmates yet... here he was. His mind had been flipped because Martha was the half he was missing, and man it felt good.

In fact. It didn't take long for him to propose. To with Martha accepted, tears gathering in her eyes.

Aware aware You stalk your prey

Alexander grit his teeth and scrubbed his hands together. John stood on his left, and he dug his nails into his palms. They watched through the large - if not slightly dirty - pet shop window at their old buddy and his fiance. Thomas held up a black kitten, and watched Martha's face break into a glittering grin.

The cars zoomed past them, yet both Hamilton and Laurens seemed to forget, or many ignore, the metropolis around them. They gazed on with a deadly stare as the owner of the store placed the cat in a carrier and filled a bag with all the things the couples needed to raise their cat. And then, the two walked out, but Alex and John were no where to be found.

With criminal mentality You sink your teeth into the people you depend on

The photos that were pinned on the cork-board in the two' shared bedroom were slowly disappearing, but Thomas nor Martha noticed. John spread them across his table. He couldn't help but smile at some of them where Thomas looked especially happy, quickly changing his expression to stern when Alex waltzed in.

Alexander stared over John' shoulder at the pictures and shifted them around. He paused on the one of Thomas asleep with the cat lying on his chest, and Martha hushing with a smile. The two can almost hear the woman's dazzling laughter and kind of softened. Kind of.

There was another of the couple on the day Thomas proposed. They were close, beaming with glee and love. The shining engagement ring may not have been the centre of the photo, but John's eyes were still drawn to it.

The last one they focused on was what appeared to be a nice selfie of Martha and Thomas, but they were being photo-bombed by their cat, that they had named 'Sabrina.'

Infecting everyone You're quite the problem

Alexander finally snapped from his nostalgic trance and snatched a red Sharpie from the pot on top of the desk. He scratched big, crimson exes over Martha's face in the pictures with a serpent like hiss. John looked up at him, hurt surging through his eyes which he quickly masked as satisfaction. Alex tossed the pen across the room, capless, meaning it would dry out quickly. John wanted to go pick it up but sat stoic still instead.

The two had skipped the wedding, finding it unnecessary to attend. They were past the point of caring about Jefferson's feelings, already knowing how they were going to break him. Martha had to go.

Fee, fi, fo, fum Better run and hide

But now, it was the after party. Alexander and John had invited themselves, and were fully prepared.

They scanned the room, searching for their target. And there she was. Standing by her new husband, holding his arm lovingly and gazing up at him in admiration. John looked at Alex, and the greasy haired male nodded discreetly. John strode off towards Thomas, tapping him on the back. Alexander snickered at their old partners shock and watched notedly as Laurens led Thomas off.

I smell the blood of a petty little coward!

Once Thomas was out of the picture, Alexander sauntered over with his phone in hand. He glanced at John, who caught his eye with a knowing smirk. "Hey, Martha!"

She turned around and smiled sweetly, crinkles showing up by her eyes as she did. "Hello, do I know you?" She sipped from the champagne flute in her hand.

"I'm... an old friend of Thomas'..." Alexander beamed dashingly before holding up his phone happily.

"Oh! You must be... Alexander Hamilton?" Martha held out a finger as she asked.

Alex nodded and gestured to his phone again. "Can I have a photo...?"

Martha giggled. "Yes! Of course!" She took one last sip of her champagne before swinging an arm around Alex as he held up his phone in selfie mode.

Alexander coughed loudly. "Oh, sorry, Martha."

Jack be lethal Jack be slick

John took the signal and walked away from Thomas mid-sentence. Thomas looked around in confusion and chugged some alcohol.

Laurens dug into his pockets, and pulled out three little pale, pink pills. John quickly scattered behind Alex and the new bride just as his partner took the photo. He dropped the drugs into the remainder of her drink with a smirk. Now, all they had to do was wait.

Jill will leave you lonely Dying in a filthy ditch!

Martha walked away from Alexander with a wave, starting up towards Thomas. She drank down the rest of her champagne as she skipped up to him.

Then, she stopped. She coughed. And then she dropped her glass.

"Patsy? Sunshine, are you alright!" Thomas rushed forward, avoiding the shattered glass like the plague.

Still retching her lungs up, she reached forward and clenched the front of Thomas' suit. "Tommy..." Martha managed to spit out.

Thomas widened his eyes. "Someone call for help, goddamn it!" He yelled, watching people scrabble left and right, calling ambulances and policemen. Everyone except from two people. Two that stood solemnly in the corner with their heads down.

So could you Tell me how you're sleeping easy? How you're only thinking of yourself?

Everyone was whisked away from the scene.

"Martha!"

"Martha! Let me see her!"

"You killed my wife, you bastards!"

Show me how you justify Telling all your lies Like second nature!

Thomas placed the white lilies on the vibrant grass by his late wife's grave, tears streaking down his cheeks. Shadows loomed over the gravestone and Thomas turned to his left where Alexander placed a tender hand on Jefferson' shoulder. "Hey, buddy..."

"A-Alex?" He shuddered, tears continuing to fall like crashing waterfalls down his cheeks. "Wh-What are you doing h-here...?"

John cleared his throat to announce his presence.

"J-John? You t-too?"

"Come on, let's get you home." John nodded, almost smiling as Alexander smirked knowingly at him.

Listen! Mark my words someday You will pay, you will pay!

Alexander helped Thomas into the back of their 4x4, and John climbed in the passenger side. "I'm so sorry about your wife, buddy."

Thomas just hung his head, gathering his spinning thoughts. "They think I did it." He finally came out with. "The cops had suspicions it was me, but I would never-"

"We know, Tommy... it's alright. You'll be fine." Alexander stared straight ahead and turned the key, the engine starting with a low grumble.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt!

Alexander sat out in the car as John lead Thomas into his home. "You sure you'll be okay on your own?"

"I just need some time to myself." The taller insisted, leaving Laurens at his doorstep. "Bye, Jackie."

"See ya, Thomas."

Maybe you'll change Abandon all your wicked ways Make amends and start anew again

That next evening, Thomas was crouched over his office desk in his home, photo album open. He traced over the image of Martha in one, where she looked so happy... He flipped the page, and where several photos that were originally on his cork board should've been, there was instead the white paper. He narrowed his eyes and flipped again. He smiled sadly as his gaze fell to a selfie of Alexander and his wife.

Maybe you'll see All the wrongs you did to me And start all over, start all over!

There it was. Small but there. The obvious puff of his friends ponytail. Of Johns hair. Thomas blinked, unsure he was seeing it correctly. And then. It clicked, something in him snapped. Martha's beautiful laugh rung through his head, her beaming smile filling his mind. It went silent, before the image of her crying and gripping his suit as she choked suffocated him. Thomas cracked.

Who am I kidding? Now let's not get over zealous here!

The thundering rain beat off Alex and John's house windows, the lightning flashing across the sky lit up the rooms with bright white light. They lay, reclined on the sofa, self righteously sipping a cold beer each.

You've always been a huge piece of shit! If I could kill you, I would! But it's frowned upon in all fifty states

With a clap of dark thunder and a blast of lightning, Thomas was there. He paused for a millisecond, looking up at the red brick home. The grey curtains that clouded the living room were drawn shut. Thomas kept his hand wrapped around the handle of his blade, stepping forward. He knocked gently on the door, listening for the shuffling inside.

Having said that Burn in hell!

The handle was tugged down and Jefferson kicked the door fully open, glazed eyes landing on John who was sat on the couch. Alexander stumbled back and fell onto his back, as Laurens leapt up in horrified shock. He was seeing scarlet, clouding his vision as he charged up to John. The man ran, he sprinted up the stairs and could feel Thomas hot on his heels.

Alexander fumbled for his phone, shivering as he pressed the numbers to call.

John tripped up over the stair, and tried to shuffle backwards as Jefferson stood over him. His lips twisted into a sinister smirk, all the rage blocking out the rapidly approaching police sirens.

So tell me How you're sleeping easy? How you're only thinking of yourself?

Red. It's a horrifically tranquil colour.

Roses...

Or blood. And blood is the substance that was coating the pristine walls of the home. The door busted open again, but this time it wasn't a murderer. It was someone from the NYPD.

Show me How you justify Spreading all your lies like second nature?

The policeman rushed in and helped Alexander to his feet. "Are you alright?"

Alexander nodded. "Y-yes, I'm fine... B-but, J-John-!"

The man patted his shoulder and looked up the stairs, where Thomas was creeping down. He let Alexander go and calmly started forward. "Drop the weapon." Thomas just looked at him through his hair. "I said drop the weapon!" Jefferson kept his hand firmly wrapped around the blade. "Come down the stairs, keep your hands in the air."

"They killed her." Thomas whispered.

"Pardon?" The policeman watched as Thomas stumbled down the stairs.

Jefferson looked up. "They killed her!" He yelled.

"Sir, drop the knife and kindly put your hands behind your back."

Thomas ran forward and he stumbled back. "Sir, stop." He reached for the gun that was rested by his side. Jefferson hit the front of his helmet.

He ran back, still being targeted by the killer. The officer, who's name tag read, J. Madison, threw his helmet away as the cracks were starting to cloud his vision.

Listen Mark my words one day You will pay, you will pay

James leaned against the alleyways wall, fear filling his eyes. He looked up at Thomas who was looming over him and held out his hands. "N-now... lets not b-be to rash." He attempted to keep the waver from his voice.

Thomas stopped. He didn't even notice the knife falling from his hand and hitting the concrete floor with a clang. When he looked at the police officer, all he could see was the terrified look of his late wife. He stumbled back, hands cupping his face as his hardened facade crumbled.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt!

Madison took Jefferson's moment of weakness as it flittered by. He grabbed it and ran forward, hitting the man in the face, He caught him by enough surprise to easily drag him to the police car.

Thomas looked down at his hands. There may not have been anything there, but there was metaphorical blood all over them. He looked up front into the mirror, looking over the police-mans face. When James looked back at him, Thomas immediately gazed back down.

He should've been destroyed that he was going to jail, yet he found himself numb. At least he'd rid the world of a murderer.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt!

He was escorted to a cell, and all his belongings were stripped of him. He was handed a stereotypical orange jumpsuit which he was commanded to change into. And he did. From there, he sat himself on the lumpy bed.

His face slowly contorted into a sickly sweet smile as he clasped and unclasped his hands on his lap. Thomas pushed his hair behind his ear and didn't stop smiling.

Karma's gonna come collect your debt!

- - -

I’ll be writing more oneshots, so I’ma open up requests! Thanks for reading!

[bravelyable]

Able dreaming: Hoarfrost Horror.

For weeks now, villages and towns across The Cloud Peaks had been getting terrorized by a wretched beast in the dark. Marked by its horrid roars, its savage attacks, and survivors stating how they felt gripped by horror as the saggy monstrosity stared them down with its maw soaked in gore. 

“But that’s changing now.”  Stated the bright eyed and eager Monster Hunter as he remained swaddled in his makeshift hiding place, the white sheet that draped him damp with snow as the evening sun started to droop lower in the sky. The cold winter months had swept in this great beast, but Blair was confident that he’d be the one to end the Yeti’s reign of terror.  Despite his energy, his fervor, he did not feel restless. Boredom was the furthest thing in his mind, excitement replacing it as his mind continued to race with the possibilities of dealing with the monster. His rocky surroundings would only suit to aid him, his pack camouflaged amid the nearby boulders that helped to hide the creature’s den. From his past reading, he knew that the best way to track the wretched Yeti was by tracing its tracks, following the strewn leftovers of its meals, and to consider cunning in its place of rest. After all...it was no hungry beast seeking an easy meal.  It drew out its kills.  It terrorized what it considered to be its prey.  It paralyzed to make others watch it eat its meal. 

The anger he felt at this was the fuel he used to plan.

To plot. 

To scheme. To set it all up... These thoughts were fleeting, though, as he heard the soft crunching of snow, the careful scratching of claws on stone. The Yeti was returning to its den following the path of least resistance.  The grin on his face was repressed, tension mounting in his chest, heart pounding...til he suppressed himself more, taking heart the breathing lessons his first master had taught him so many years ago.  One...two...three...four... Crunch...Crunch...

One...two...three...four... Crunch...Crunch... 

One...two...three...four... Crunch...Crunch... One...two...three...four... Crunch...Crunch...Ting! With the metallic ting ringing off, there was the sound of sloshing fluid, of a grump of surprise, right before Blair found himself grinning wide and leaping up from his hiding place... As the Yeti was set ablaze!

The roar of the monster shook the air as it clawed at its oil soaked fur, flames crawling on its body and refusing to stop. In shock, in fear, it twisted itself around, slamming into the nearby rocks with fury...and activating the spring traps Blair had set up to send sharpened steel flying into its flesh.  Wordlessly, Blair jumped onto a bolder to close the gap, to hide his approach from the terrified monster as it tore chunks of itself off, crimson splattering on snowcapped stone, the barbed darts in its flesh dealing further damage as it stumbled away from where the pain started towards its den.  Bouncing from rock to rock, Blair could not lose track of his prey, a beacon in the growing dark as it almost crawled to the crave entrance, fear numbing its wit as it activated trap after trap, similar now a steel porcupin looking for relief. Sweet relief... Relief it would not find as Blair drew Frostbrand down across its back, a strangled yelp all it could force out as the force of the blow was amplified by a jump attack!  Into the darkness it fled, blood streaming off of it, but Blair was in hot pursuit, the flames doing well to light its flight into the winding cave. Bones crunched, skulls kicked, Blair threw daggers and swung his blade at joints, at ligaments, efficiency cut down by the narrow passageways and his fleeing prey.  Things looked so well, felt so thrilling...until the sound of rushing water and sudden darkness revealed to Blair that a snowmelt had made a waterfall within the cave system. Only the soft glow of Frostbrand kept Blair from being totally blind...but now, now the Yeti had made its wit know as it remained out of sight, its movements hidden by the dull echo mingling with the steady fall of chilled water Unable to see his prey, his Master’s words curiously came to mind now of all times...to hammer in the foolishness of Blair’s actions.  “Beware a cornered monster, my boy!” The scent of burnt fur, flesh, and rot came too late for Blair to react as he was grabbed from behind by the shoulders, his armor the only thing preventing claws from puncturing his flesh. But still, his muscles screamed, his bones groaned, as the Yeti roared and kept his grip on Blair hard, the Monster Hunter unable to swing back in time before the monster began to throw him around.  His senses were in disarray as he was sent hurtling into hard stone walls, slammed into stalagmites, pinned against stalactites, swung overhead and bashed into the ground again and again, only his armor preventing major breaks and gashes. He didn’t have the convience to curse himself, only repeating the mantra of  Don’tletgodon’tletgodon’tletgo. Repeating in his mind before he was pulled aloft and into the air, peace finding him in a few moments...before a sudden surge of dread shot through him and he sent his sword slashing back. The slash was enough to illuminate the yeti that was about to bite down on Blair’s skull. The beast, instead, ended up biting down on Blair’s chest, keeping him aloft in the air with only one arm gripped on his right shoulder as its mouth bit down harder...and harder... and harder on the steel breastplate in its mouth.  Blair couldn’t breath.  Blair couldn’t feel his face.  Blair couldn't struggle out of its mouth.  But as the pressure grew, as the Yeti’s fangs now punctured the steel armor and tore into muscle and flesh....Blair realized... He couldn’t die.  Weakness crushed, wariness gone, sudden power surged through Blair’s limbs as he spun his longsword in his right hand, blade spun down and sent slamming downward at the only target he could hit.  The Yeti’s eye.  Blair watched with a sneer as the glowing blue blade illuminated the gush of blood out of the socket as one eye was ruined...and then the other...as eyes and the brain of the creature were destroyed by the impalement of the blade through its skull.  The Yeti slumped.  Its life extinguished by Blair’s cold blade.  And with the of his hunter’s superiority, the threat plaguing the peaks was snuffed out.  Injured, bleeding, and dizzied from the assault... Blair could only smile as he wretched himself from the Yeti’s mouth, blade sliding out crisply from frozen blood. Down on the ground he plopped, crawling towards a small alcove to lean back against the smooth cave walls. He let his blade fall from his hand as he began to breath again, steadying himself as his gaze fell towards the Yeti. His prey.  Bested.  Beaten. Hunted. Slain. As Blair closed his eyes, his mind was already racing again.  Not of plots.  Not of schemes.  But rather of where he’d start when he’d take the Yeti apart.  A soft sigh of relief escaped him as he sat there, in the cold darkness.  Utterly alone besides those morbid thoughts that brought him warmth. 

[hannigramfanfic]

Hannibal Fanstory: “The Hunter and Child of the Lupin” Or “Kiss of a Lupin” or “Prince of Wolves - Vilku kunigaikstis

PROLOGUE

There is a Tale told by old Storytellers when fires are lit, and everyone is settled for the night about a Hunter from a distant land and a feral child of the Lupin he met one heavy winter in the lands of the North – where the Spirit of the that Forest, the Ravenstag dwells – when given a task by the vile King Mason Verger to find the child and kill it, while bringing him the head of the creature from Ancient times.

It is said Mason came into power by overthrowing the previous King – Jack Crawford – and his Queen – Bella or Phyliss – and it is unknown what happened to those kind people, because you dear Travellers who come to sit by my fire to hear this Tale have yet to hear how it all began.

Our Tale first begins in the land of Wolf-trap, Virginia where due to unforeseen consequences a pregnant woman bearing a child within her womb leaves behind a place where she was born and raised as behind her in the far distance a great fire burns the woodland causing animals living in it to run alongside her horse as the flames black out the skies.

Choking out a multitude of stars that shine like path and leaving yet only one shining in the sky – a bright single star that would change the child’s life within her womb as the legacy of Wolftrap dissolved in ash and wind.

————————— 

12 MONTHS LATER

Baltimore, Maryland – the former Kingdom of the Missing King Crawford

Despair.

Pestilence.

Starvation.

Depressed souls who head’s hang with the weight of oppression as Hannibal Lecter – Hunter, member of the Hunter’s Guild – and unknown to many in who he was in this country keeps the hood of his long cloak up as he walks through the muddy streets with his horse – Cersai – of Baltimore, Maryland remembering when it had been under King Crawford’s gentle rule.

The street had been a vibrant hive of activity: festivals, market stalls bursting with the hustle and bustle of market stallers shouting their wares to people in the streets, while children ran about with windmills and kites.

That was gone: in place now due to Mason taking reign the color and vibrancy had been drained to monochrome grey and inky black, while faces have become hardened like stone; children are weak and starving beg for scraps at what has now become Mason’s palace from the kitchens only to never get enough and adults have become suspicious of any stranger no matter where they came from.

Neighbor becomes pitted against neighbor, not trusting them at all for any help at all even when the Plague sickness comes and affects either both or one of them as Hannibal passes some Plague doctors standing near a Condemned house talking in whispers – like snakes slithering across each-other to keep warm – wearing the long white beaks like that of a crow or raven beak then turn their beaked gaze towards him.

Watching him walking up to King Verger’s castle, a grotesque building hewn from blood-red rock and spiked turrets where the remnants of people who displeased Mason Verger hang from indicating to all below if they disobeyed this was what would happen. Guards in armour patrolled the battlements.

Hearing the bellowing noise of large bull oxen’s and rumbling of a carriage makes him step out of the way with Cersai seeing, in fact, it is Slave Carriage bearing within poor, frightened souls bound in chains of iron and steel. Their heads hung down in dejection, while rags of cloth barely cover their modesty as it large wheels splash up the foul mud of that for centuries during Mason’s reign has had all manner of traffic go through it.

What makes his Inner Predator within Hannibal want to get rid of Mason if he weren’t controlled by the Hunter’s Code and Contract is the fact the prisoners that been in the Slave Carriage as it heads within the castle – were children. Some of them younger like his darling sister Mischa who been murdered in his homeland when he been only a child of 17 years of age by a rogue general who had overthrown his father – Lord Dvaras – had heard rumours about Mason having certain particular tastes and that was he liked young children – female or male even.

The three Plague Doctors, who have followed him he can sense are still watching him wondering why a foreign stranger has come to such a desolate bleak place where even the strange Plague, Hannibal had seen affecting people in other places he had travelled through and the grief it had brought countless families.

“Mister? Mister? Please any…. spare coins to spare?”

A small voice says, drawing him out of the haze he in and looking down sees it a group of orphaned urchins – their cheeks hollowed in by hunger; eyes bloodshot and bags under them; hair unkempt and unwashed as patchwork rags cover their modesty – and shakes his head at them, having his money pouch already stolen in another town he had passed through. Slapping down greedy hands when they reach for his crossbow on his back, plus dagger and sword hidden by his long cloak.

“Cease that. There not for children to play with. Understand me?” He chides them, making them resist what they are doing, and nod meekly followed by still staying close to him when suddenly a snide leering almost voice shouts at them “BEGONE YOU LITTLE VARMINTS!!! GET!! GO ON!!!” revealing to Hannibal’s displeasure another lacky of Mason’s – Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Captain of the Guards and downright leech-of-a-man – who kicks one the urchins out the way.

They met before, when the man had tried to join the Hunter’s Guild and now sneers at him even when Hannibal reaches into his saddle bag to pull out the Hunter’s Code and Contract – which all Hunter’s sweared to with a Blood oath – then spits heavily, managing to aim it close to Hannibal who just keeps a calm composure.

He couldn’t let the Inner Predator in him loose just yet.

It wasn’t the right……time for it.

————————————–

Now in the Household of the Verger Royal Family: there is Mason Verger, a vile man with no good soul in him causing more torment and ruining people lives than in actually helping them; there is his sister Lady Margot – a young woman of 35 years of age, who is also sadly one of those people that is tormented by her brother behind locked doors and wishes she could be free of him; while there is her Lady-in-waiting Alana Bloom – a simple country girl with strong heart and fierce loyalty to her mistress.

The servants are:  Peter Bernadone – a stable-lad who a cares for the horses for King Mason, though is strongly controlled by a sadistic Lord Clark Ingram; Francis Dolerhyde, the Blacksmith who fashions all the weapons and armour and stays with his adopted little blind girl of seven years of age Reba McClane – who’s father and mother are unknown as she was abandoned at early age and find by Francis as a baby among some bed of heather in the once fertile forests around Baltimore, Maryland; the scholar/ jesters of the Court are Brian Zeller, Beverly Katz and Jimmy Price who Mason uses when he puts on big parties to celebrate certain events and finally Lady Bedelia Du Maurier – rumoured to run the Brothel houses in the seediest parts of Baltimore, Maryland and is known as the Verger’s Tax Collector.

Hmm, yes?

Oh, you want to hear of what lies beyond this place.

Well that is…. the Northern land as far as the crow can fly to it or a horse can travel to it. Not that I’ve tried to travel there myself.

Tall mountain-scapes of tall-peaked mountains dusted with coatings of fine, crisp snow and swathes of large coniferous and deciduous trees that spread outwards to reach to them and waterfalls made from glaciers tumble downwards to form meandering rivers that spread across the strange land like arteries of a giant’s arm and gentle, bubbling streams or of becoming just deep pools of gleaming water that waterfalls just endlessly pour into them.

Autumn there brings a multi-hue of soft oranges, yellows, reds and lilacs and wildlife is ever abundant from all creatures great and small, while Ancient Text tells of how large Beast Gods roamed the forest and the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag – watched over all.

It is said the creature possesses the body of a stag, a coat of lustrous Raven’s feathers and a thicket of antler’s that are larger a normal stag’s antlers.

But that is only myth told from the Ancient Text as no-one has ever seen this creature described and yet, it is what Mason fears for some reason.

You ask me why?

It is believed because of Prophesy told to him by a mysterious cloaked figure wearing robes of sea bluish-green and holding a stuff, bearing the carving of Raven that is why. And hear is thus:

Neither Human or even a man

When the Crescent moon doth shine and become full

Turning crimson like spilled blood in the inky, black sky

Come will something that will tear and ravage you asunder

It will break your stone you surround yourself with

Bellow out it’s war cry like the horn of a Carnyx

And pierce you to the very throne you defiled

Beware the golden eyes in the night.

Now that I have started off this Tale, let’s us travel to another place – the Northern Land where we will shall find out what happened to the young man from the Wolftrap Legacy that many had believed had faded into the histories of time to be forgotten for eternity.

 PART 1

A multitude of stars shines brightly in the night-sky, while under the canopy of tall coniferous trees bearing on their fir branches white, undisturbed snow and on a perch of a half-destroyed old tree – that had been hit by lightning – sweeps off into the night on silent wings.

A ghostly white shadow among the inky blackness, while slowly golden eyes appear from the gloom as they step slowly into the moonlight now streaming through the canopy above – a pack of wolves, a family.

There is a difference – on the back of one of the Mother Alpha Wolf – last of the remaining Ancient Beasts of the Wolf Clan – is a young man, gripping her fur mixed with silvery highlights.

While in front, keeping an eye out for dangers are his wolf-brother’s – three of them – and his Wolf-sister, who walks close by. Their names in Ancient are stated thus: Murasaki Kushina – the Alpha Mother, remaining Ancient Beast of the Wolf Clan; daughter Murasaki Chiyoh; and the three sons Murasaki Ashisaki, Keito and Hiharo.

They are Will’s family, after his mother Lady Cassia - Othelia who had given birth to him in this forest one heavy winter night soon afterwards weakened by hunger and trying to survive while grieving the loss of her husband – Lord Orilivano – who unknown to her at the time of when he been a small child had been bitten by rogue Wolf – so passing on the curse onto his only son – Will.

Will knows nothing of his heritage or even where he comes from. He believes his real mother is Murasaki Kushina and knows nothing of what the birthmark on his shoulder means.

“O’kaasan, where are we going?” He asks her in the language of the Wolves – that she had taught him, and she answers in her deep soft voice. “It’s a surprise, my dear little one.”

Will smiles at that. Being with his Wolf-mother, brothers and sisters he knows nothing of the Human beyond the forest he was born in and has not seen another human ever in his life.

His real mother unbeknownst to him is buried in wooden glade, where only the Spirit of the Forest – The Ravenstag – knows where. He remembers one autumn with the leaves spiralling and dancing down onto the forest floor he seen the beautiful creature with a lustrous coat of raven’s feathers ruffling gently in the breeze as it grazed with some deer then it was gone.

Chiyoh, who had gone off soon comes up beside and hands him a branch bearing some succulent edible berries from a winter food storage hole that been made last winter and taking it with one hand, scratches her behind her ear to thank her for it.

Keito – the second youngest of Murasaki Kushina’s Wolf cubs about the same age as Will – comes up, nipping her ear playfully soon making them both bound forwards in front of the others, making Will laugh happily at the sight in front of him.

If only he knew at the time in the Kingdom of Mason Verger, a Hunter would soon be arriving in the forest he lived in and would change his life forever.

  The mountain-passes that separate the Kingdom of Mason Verger from the Northern Forest, where the Ravenstag is to dwell is a Border pass patrolled by four guards – Tobias Budge, Matthew Brown, Abel Gideon and the reluctant Frederick Chilton – who control who goes through to the other side.

Coming up the carved path in the mountainside, while heavy rain falls down causing some parts of the cliff-face to become waterfalls of murky water that tumble down into the misty abyss below, he sees a Raven flying overhead – it’s beady gaze looking down at him – and continuing head up the path, soon sees a groove hollowed by years of intense weathering going over it until it finally hollowed out a pass.

During King Crawford’s reign with his kind permission people could come and go often escorted by himself and the Queen to show the beautiful land beyond the pass then it all changed when King Mason Verger took control and changed the rule so that only a handle of people he chose could enter the pass if they were acceptable and reliable in the tasks he gave them.

Slipping off the horse, he heads to stone-carved hut shaped like large dome to within, where Frederick Chilton – one of the four Border Pass Guards who rather be somewhere else – lifts his head up from making notes to see who has come in then takes the Sealed Pass signed by King Mason from Hannibal.

Hannibal lowering his hood of his long cloak, heads back over to his horse to check she is alright at the sametime the other three Border Pass guards appear, coming into the large stone-carved dome wearing hides of animals to disguise their scent from when they go through the pass and hunt in the land beyond it.

“Chilton, who is this Silver-fox of a foreigner?” One of them – Abel Gideon – a rude, boorish brute of man wishing like Chilton to be somewhere else – like for example the whorehouses of sin, greed and lust rumoured to be run by Lady Bedelia Du Maurier.

“A Hunter, dear Gideon. He has been given a Border Pass by King Verger to enter that accursed land.” Another man speaks – Tobias Budge, once a former member of the Hunter’s Guild until leaving for unknown reasons – who know considered Hunters like Hannibal to be just worthless scum in it for the money they would get from the job.

Hannibal notices the third Border Pass guard is a young man, with his hands crossed over his chest while leaning nonchantly against the stone-carved dome wall with one leg up on it watching him with certain look. He would have to keep an eye out on this one. Something about the gaze indicated a hidden personality the other three men didn’t know about and was something Hannibal had experience with

Having a hidden personality of his own.

  It is in the middle of the night, the rain has ceased outside until leaving only pools of water on the ground in some places as Hannibal silently leaves behind the four sleeping Border Pass Guards and heads quietly to the Pass, where for the moment he soon swears he sees ghostly figure of a child – looking almost like his darling sister Mischa – then getting up into the saddle of his horse, indicates with soft click of his tongue for it to start going through the pass.

It is eerily quiet, with the wind-weathered pass looking like it is leaning in towards any travellers who come into the Pass then finally he reaches the other side to come upon a sight that has been untouched ever since Mason’s reign: large swathes of coniferous and deciduous trees spreading outwards towards towering mountains that jut out like sharp ragged teeth in the clouds of mist that surround them.

A strange sense of calm descends on Hannibal. Never has he seen such a pristine, beautiful place where Humans who once remember King Crawford’s gentle rule now fear to tread in case they incur the wrath of the now King Mason.

Slowly he begins to descend the carved path leading to the very bottom of the valley where the Ancient Beasts were still rumoured to roam and the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag – was said to dwell.

  “O’kaasan, what’s wrong?” Will asks, when Murasaki Kushina comes to halt at the large river – Kahaku – where glacial boulders covered in moss, lichen and tiny moths lay within the refreshing water that comes from the mountains in the far distance.

“Man!!!? We must leave!!!?” Come my children.” She replies to him, while Will finds himself gripping her fur more tightly and looks around at the trees that cover both sides of the large flowing river that goes through the forest and out towards the ocean.

Listening attentively, Will uses his special skill he had to block out all other noises and slips his eyes close to immerse himself fully. He soon hears a steady heartbeat coming from the “Man” as the strange creature his O’kaasan had called the strange creature.

He wondered:

Why had they come here to where he lived?

What purpose had brought them here?

Warning growls - bring him out of those internal questions - coming from his other siblings, making him shoot his eyes open seeing watching through some gaps of broken trees that have fallen into the large river at some point.

Until it managed to build a dam of sorts. The “Man” who soon moves from his watching point, gets up onto the broken branches and clambering over them begins to wade through the water towards them until stopping in the middle of the large river.

“Speak Human. You have come into our Forest with some purpose. Why?” Will hears his O’kaasan growling with her fangs bared in warning, while he slips off her back and keeps close to her.

Noticing how the strange “Man’s” maroon eyes stare at him – like they could stare deeply into his soul – and before he even is thinking he is front of them, while they stay still as he starts to pad around them.

Inhaling every mixture of scent coming from the strange “Man” - all unrecognisable and unidentifiable – then bringing his hands up to their shoulders, pushes the strange creature to kneel on both knees so their eye-level.

  Hannibal now kneeling on both his knees in the water of the large river, stays still when the young man – no doubt in his mind the remaining heir of the Wolftrap Legacy – leans close to his cheek inhaling deeply with curiosity at what is he to them.

He knows if he makes a wrong move, four wolves and a one of them an Ancient Beast described in Ancient Texts saying to have existed in this forest, could easily tear him to a bloodied mess.

Keeping his hands still by resting them on his lap, Hannibal doesn’t even flinch when a moist, warm tongue licks his ear to test his reaction and moves to the other – almost like the young man is starting to scent-mark him – then pulls back slightly giving him a look that means he must reciprocate.

Leaning close to the young man’s ear, he brings out his tongue to lick softly – wishing deep also he could take hold of the young man, but he doesn’t – and when finishes scent-marking the other in the way he been indicated then goes back to staying still to feel his cheeks grabbed hold of.

This forces him to tilt his head backwards, where soon sharp teeth or fangs – he can’t tell just yet – bite into his skin – not tearing but marking – drawing some blood as the action of it makes him gasp breathlessly.

Feeling his eyes flutter close, his hands come nearly up to take hold of the young man when a twig snapping underfoot breaks the gentle peace and calm and lowering his head after feeling he is suddenly his now alone sees the young man and the Wolves have left.

Another presence though makes him turn his face to look down the large river, seeing a sight he would never forget even until his and the young man’s tale had faded into history.

A lustrous coat made of Raven’s feathers, gleaming in the soft moonlight from above and antlers that seem to Hannibal’s mind extend to the very heavens then it tilts it’s head backwards bellowing heavily. It’s breath rising like fine mist into the cold, night air.

PART 2

After finding a large hollow of a giant tree that has managed over years of growing in cliff-face until it’s large roots within have hollowed out some form of cave, Hannibal now sits up against one of large roots, twisted slightly as the tree which had been growing searched for water and nutrients.

On the cave wall are Ancient Markings of Forebearers who once in Ancient Times had lived in the forest with harmony with the Ancient Beasts illuminated by the makeshift fire he has made, while on makeshift some meat – rabbit – is being slowly roasted on a makeshift spit made from twigs.

He is calmly sketching with some charcoal a drawing of the young man with the wolves he had met – paying attention to the soft details of the youthful face and soft kissable lips – into an old drawing paper sketchpad and smiles softly when he senses a presence entering the cave.

Hannibal knows who it is and finishing off the final touches, gently closes the sketchpad to place it to one side then reaching forwards turns the makeshift spit so the meat is thoroughly cooked hearing the young man pad up to him.

Lowering his hands to his lap, after doing that task he turns slightly to face the young man with sea bluish-green eyes – deep pools of that colour that remind him of clear pools of water with sunlight filtering down from canopy of trees to shine down on them – curious and intrigued in what will happen next.

The young man still on his hands and knees, while wearing a lace white tunic of sorts and black breeches – which must have been stolen to make what he wears now – reaches for one of Hannibal’s hands. Taking hold of it, while he forgets how to breathe at the feel of tempting kissable lips brush against his wrist’s pulse followed by hint of fangs.

“Something wrong, my Love?”  He asks, before he can correct himself because they’re not Lovers and yet, he couldn’t deny the attraction he was starting to develop for this feral Wolf-Child with curly-brown locks and something else within him he just couldn’t explain what.

“No, just the way you look at me.” The young man replies to him, lifting his head with his eyes closed at first, while stilling holding Hannibal’s wrist as Hannibal finds himself stroking the young man’s delicate cheekbone with feather light touches.

This makes the young man flutter his eyes open, revealing those beautiful eyes when he goes to move his hand away to sort the makeshift spit, so the meat doesn’t burn scorching him with such heat from that look, Hannibal can feel himself slowly becoming aroused then composes himself only just, asks the question.

“How do I look to you?” making the young man smile at him, replying with “As if you were deciding whether or not to eat me. Not that I’m adverse to the idea.” then goes back to nuzzling Hannibal’s wrist as Hannibal starts to feel conflicted by what has been said to him.

It was true, he had a darker side to after tortured in his own homeland by the rogue General – Vladimir Grutas – who overthrown his father and in front of his very young eyes at 17 years of age had taken his little baby sister away, while Gruta’s men took great relish and pleasure in violating his body again and again until he been forced to accept he would starve if he did not eat the food they gave him.

Then to his ultimate horror happened to him, they brought him food and due to his weakened state Hannibal had eaten it then afterwards had discovered the food had been his own sister – slaughtered for meat.

Anger had risen in him, while he soon killed the men who had murdered his sister and as the years went by when he travelled to the land King Mason owned after overthrowing King Crawford in the shadows of alleyways and underground caverns he was given another name “The Chesapeake Ripper” - based on the mythological monster the Wendigo from Ancient Texts who ate the flesh of man.

Coming out of the harsh, cold memory he locks it away in the oubliettes of his Mind Palace and slips his hand away to check the meat on the makeshift spit – finding it is ready to eat – then taking it off the holder, rips some of the meat off and holds it out to the young man.

Sea bluish-green eyes flick to the meat and to him than back to the meat, while Hannibal sighs softly and states. “It’s not poisoned. See.” tearing the meat piece in two then eating it to show to the young man it is only rabbit meat with some wild rosemary he found growing near the cave sprinkled on top.

The young man leans upwards though taking the other half of the meat from his fingers and placing it in his mouth soon presses his lips against Hannibal’s causing him to stiffen slightly then fully relaxing, opens his mouth as the meat is soon shared between them through their mouth’s.

He finds himself starting to breathe heavily through both his nostrils, changing position each time when a warm, moist tongue laps against his and starts to entwine as they keep on eating the rabbit meat between themselves then before he is even thinking of what he is doing, Hannibal has soon pinned the feral Wolf-child to the cave floor on his blanket – he had laid out from his traveling kit - and yet, keeps his hands either side of the young man’s head.

Both are breathing heavily, while he can feel soft hands start to unlace his clothes and pulls back heavily only to soon arch slightly with a breathless hitched gasp when feels the young man leans up to bite one of his nipples through the fabric of his crème-white tunic at the sametime twisting the other nipple, so it rises and peaks under those ministrations.

His hands begin to scar into the cave floor slightly as he un-arches his back and leans over the young man still gasping breathlessly as between his thighs in the confines of breeches, Hannibal can feel the tightening pressure indicating he is slowly becoming aroused and needs to release it one way or another then moves his head back down to kiss the young man again, needing to distract himself from it.

A hand clawing down his shoulder – sharp and lethal feeling to his skin – causes him to groan heavily in machoistic pleasure as it draws some blood in the process, while a sly soft hand soon slips between his thighs to cup him through his breeches heavily and starts to unlace him teasingly slow it makes move his lips away to pant heavily in the young man’s ear.

“If…. you don’t hurry. I won’t last much longer.”

“Don’t worry….I plan to extend this for very long indeed, Hunter.”

“Not….haaa….You wee minx!!!?….not Hunter, but Hannibal.”

“Hannibal….….hmm…then evidently I should tell you mine.”

“Yes…. ahhh!!…Oh, there, you wee minx!!!”

“Will, my name is Will.”

Hannibal wonders how long he can last, while Will now slips downwards, and he find himself flinging his head backwards crying out heavily when he finds himself swallowed down into moist, hot mouth then slipping his hands downwards grips the young man’s head to hold it closer to his groin, watching the sleek curly brown head start to bob back and forth between his thighs.

His mouth agape, he finds himself fisting his hands into the blanket for support as slick, slurp noises and breathless moans, gasps, pants and whimpers fill the cave then he tenses heavily, heart pounding heavily against ribcage feeling himself cup the young man’s cheek to stroke it as the sinful moist, hot mouth swallows down his release.

Soon Hannibal falls backwards to land slightly on the tree root and his travelling pack then whimpers from overstimulation when he is forced to experience another orgasm, while the young man has managed to slip his clothes off fully leaving him only in his crème-white tunic and lace breeches wide open to fully expose him.

“Enough…. Will…Enough!!!……I…want you!!” He gasps out, chest heaving heavily with laboured gasps making the young man raise his head, some remnants of Hannibal’s seed still on his lips and crawls up to him to look at him.

“You want….me?”

“Is that so much to ask of you?”

“No…..I want you as well, Hannibal. I want you…..as my….Mate.”

TO BE CONTINUED

For  @vintagefloof, @amatesura, @avidreadr2004, @crazystaglady, @hannigramfanfics and all the rest of the Fannibals out there. Here is the fic I have been working on… finally arrived. Enjoy. 

[landcfstxries]

Blinded

{ oh boy

Is this one kind of a suspenseful and uh,,, sad one, lads

@maybesortaahazel

@shadlicious

@vampire-fucker-3000

Y'all have permission to kill me after this lmao

René and Mysterious Character™ (for no spoilers) are my ocs!!!

Hope you enjoy, and probably cry.

Also beware of possible misspellings bc i rush }

-----------------

"René? René~! Where have you gone, little one?"

Trembling.

He remembered he was trembling, like a leaf threatening to break free from its branch.

René, only in his early teens in this moment, knew he had to keep completely still and silent where he was. He knew every little detail of his own home, especially where to hide.

Footsteps. They were close... Too close.

René didn't ask for this. He didn't even know why this was happening. A family friend... He trusted him dearly. Perhaps he wasn't as friendly as he and his family perceived him in the first place. Sure, he seemed a little odd...

But they were so wrong.

He heard footsteps right outside of where he was hiding, causing him to stifle his sobs and stay completely still as the culprit on the other side let out a sickening laugh.

"René... Sweet child. Make this easy and just... Come out for me? We can talk things out nice and easy... You could even end up siding with me~! You have a chance to live a much better, carefree life and see the world in a new light... With me! Your 'family friend'... Mr. Cross, you called me? Such a polite child. You can rule beside me with the power that flows in your veins, your own blood! You can trust me... You know me. Again... I'm practically family!"

There was the trembling again. René had to hold back his sobs. He couldn't understand any of what this man was saying. Power? Side with him?

What the hell did any of that mean-?!

"GOTCHA!"

The doorway to the small, hidden passage René had taken shelter in was abruptly opened, revealing the culprit.

His eyes were pitch black, with very faint swirls of green if you stared long enough. His red-ish pink hair almost reminded René of a rabid flame. He had two silver daggers, glinting in the moonlight that illuminated the dark room.

He had harshly pulled René out of the spot, lightly tossing him to the groud. The boy was quick to back away ad best as he could, his back hitting the wall. His breathing became erratic, fearful as he was forced to look at the new enemy.

A dagger was lightly discarded to the side, so the man in front of him so he could gently reach out and softly cup the boy's cheek as well as lightly grab him by the chin. A smile bloomed on the man's lips, one feigning innocence and almost looking genuine.

"René... My boy. I know things must be... Scary and confusing in these times, especially with someone of your age... However, I promise everything will be explained soon and will come to light if you just come along with me. I can teach you how to use your powers for the greater good, instead of letting them waste away in this... Pathetic mortal world you, lile everyone else, seem to hold so dear. I was naïve once. But, I was then... Enlightened! I can help you see things my way! We can rule together! WE CAN BE POWERFUL-!"

A force roughly pushed him back. René.

"NO!"

It came out as a cry, a squeak... But boomed loudly through the room.

Silence then followed after, the only sound left being René's shaky breath as well as the various creatures lurking about outside.

The man before him slowly rose up to his feet, grabbing the discarded dagger at his side and looking down at René with an expression of hurt that seemed almost... Believable.

"No?"

René slowly stood up himself, his mind suddenly frantic as voices in his head were shouting at him to find an exit.

"NO?!"

A sudden, invisible force had René pinned against the wall, as if something was pushing his chest and his entire body in.

The man in front of him was enraged, as if he was pissed that he didn't get his way like he seemingly always had.

There was that trembling again.

"You little BRAT! I've come this far to acquiring the power of the Oracle, and I'm not gonna let a pathetic waste of space get in my WAY! I KILL YOU AND GET THE POWER MYSELF IF I HAVE TO! JOIN ME OR DIE!"

Fearful silence from René. He wanted- no... He needed to break free of whatever force was keeping him in place, and quick...

A chuckle came from the man. "Heh... SO BE IT!"

Everything went as if time had slowed down.

Run...

RUN, RENÉ!

----

There was a flash of sliver, a burst of power.

Then darkness.

And, oh gods, the pain.

Everyone on that street remembers hearing the bloodcurdling scream of a child that night.

René remembers starting to run, almost not in control of his own actions except covering his eyes. He could feel the blood seeping through, hearing it drip like faint raindrops.

He remembered his legs going weak, and hearing voices in the distance getting closer and closer.

He remembers the gentle guidance of those who would help him to safety; those who would help him through every stage towards recovery.

René remembers nothing of his parents; as if they had disappeared off the face of the Earth and ceased to exist. Nothing of his almost-killer either.

He remembers the faint whispers in his head keeping him company; voices of men, women, and others alike.

The prominent cross-shaped scar, whose path fell over his eyes and to where the two daggers intersected.

René remembers being blinded.

[innermuse24]

Hannibal Fanstory: “Prince of Wolves - Vilku kunigaikstis”

PROLOGUE

There is a Tale told by old Storytellers when fires are lit, and everyone is settled for the night about a Hunter from a distant land and a feral child of the Lupin he met one heavy winter in the lands of the North – where the Spirit of the that Forest, the Ravenstag dwells – when given a task by the vile King Mason Verger to find the child and kill it, while bringing him the head of the creature from Ancient times.

It is said Mason came into power by overthrowing the previous King – Jack Crawford – and his Queen – Bella or Phyliss – and it is unknown what happened to those kind people, because you dear Travellers who come to sit by my fire to hear this Tale have yet to hear how it all began.

Our Tale first begins in the land of Wolf-trap, Virginia where due to unforeseen consequences a pregnant woman bearing a child within her womb leaves behind a place where she was born and raised as behind her in the far distance a great fire burns the woodland causing animals living in it to run alongside her horse as the flames black out the skies.

Choking out a multitude of stars that shine like path and leaving yet only one shining in the sky – a bright single star that would change the child’s life within her womb as the legacy of Wolftrap dissolved in ash and wind.

---------------------------

12 MONTHS LATER

Baltimore, Maryland – the former Kingdom of the Missing King Crawford

Despair.

Pestilence.

Starvation.

Depressed souls who head’s hang with the weight of oppression as Hannibal Lecter – Hunter, member of the Hunter’s Guild – and unknown to many in who he was in this country keeps the hood of his long cloak up as he walks through the muddy streets with his horse – Cersai – of Baltimore, Maryland remembering when it had been under King Crawford’s gentle rule.

The street had been vibrant hive of activity: festivals, market stalls bursting with the hustle and bustle of market stallers shouting their wares to people in the streets, while children ran about with windmills and kites.

That was gone: in place now due to Mason taking reign the colour and vibrancy had been drained to monochrome grey and inky black, while faces have become hardened like stone; children are weak and starving beg for scraps at what has now become Mason’s palace from the kitchens only to never get enough and adults have become suspicious of any stranger no matter where they came from.

Neighbour becomes pitted against neighbour, not trusting them at all for any help at all even when the Plague sickness comes and affects either both or one of them as Hannibal passes some Plague doctors standing near a Condemned house talking in whispers – like snakes slithering across each-other to keep warm – wearing the long white beaks like that of a crow or raven beak then turn their beaked gaze towards him.

Watching him walking up to King Verger’s castle, a grotesque building hewn from blood-red rock and spiked turrets where the remnants of people who displeased Mason Verger hang from indicating to all below if they disobeyed this was what would happen. Guards in armour patrolled the battlements.

Hearing the bellowing noise of large bull oxen’s and rumbling of a carriage makes him step out of the way with Cersai seeing in fact it is Slave Carriage bearing within poor, frightened souls bound in chains of iron and steel. Their heads hung down in dejection, while rags of cloth barely cover their modesty as it large wheels splash up the foul mud of that for centuries during Mason’s reign has had all manner of traffic go through it.

What makes his Inner Predator within Hannibal want to get rid of Mason if he weren’t controlled by the Hunter’s Code and Contract is the fact the prisoners that been in the Slave Carriage as it heads within the castle – were children. Some of them younger like his darling sister Mischa who been murdered in his homeland when he been only a child of 17 years of age by a rogue general who had overthrown his father – Lord Dvaras – had heard rumours about Mason having certain particular tastes and that was he liked young children – female or male even.

The three Plague Doctors, who have followed him he can sense are still watching him wondering why a foreign stranger has come to such a desolate bleak place where even the strange Plague, Hannibal had seen affecting people in other places he had travelled through and the grief it had brought countless families.

“Mister? Mister? Please any…. spare coins to spare?”

A small voice says, drawing him out of the haze he in and looking down sees it a group of orphaned urchins – their cheeks hollowed in by hunger; eyes bloodshot and bags under them; hair unkempt and unwashed as patchwork rags cover their modesty – and shakes his head at them, having his money pouch already stolen in another town he had passed through. Slapping down greedy hands when they reach for his crossbow on his back, plus dagger and sword hidden by his long cloak.

“Cease that. There not for children to play with. Understand me?” He chides them, making them resist what they are doing, and nod meekly followed by still staying close to him when suddenly a snide leering almost voice shouts at them “BEGONE YOU LITTLE VARMINTS!!! GET!! GO ON!!!” revealing to Hannibal’s displeasure another lacky of Mason’s – Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Captain of the Guards and downright leech-of-a-man – who kicks one the urchins out the way.

They met before, when the man had tried to join the Hunter’s Guild and now sneers at him even when Hannibal reaches into his saddle bag to pull out the Hunter’s Code and Contract – which all Hunter’s sweared to with a Blood oath – then spits heavily, managing to aim it close to Hannibal who just keeps a calm composure.

He couldn’t let the Inner Predator in him loose just yet.

It wasn’t the right……time for it.

--------------------------------------

Now in the Household of the Verger Royal Family: there is Mason Verger, a vile man with no good soul in him causing more torment and ruining people lives than in actually helping them; there is his sister Lady Margot – a young woman of 35 years of age, who is also sadly one of those people that is tormented by her brother behind locked doors and wishes she could be free of him; while there is her Lady-in-waiting Alana Bloom – a simple country girl with strong heart and fierce loyalty to her mistress.

The servants are:  Peter Bernadone – a stable-lad who a cares for the horses for King Mason, though is strongly controlled by a sadistic Lord Clark Ingram; Francis Dolerhyde, the Blacksmith who fashions all the weapons and armour and stays with his adopted little blind girl of seven years of age Reba McClane – who’s father and mother are unknown as she was abandoned at early age and find by Francis as a baby among some bed of heather in the once fertile forests around Baltimore, Maryland; the scholar/ jesters of the Court are Brian Zeller, Beverly Katz and Jimmy Price who Mason uses when he puts on big parties to celebrate certain events and finally Lady Bedelia Du Maurier – rumoured to run the Brothel houses in the seediest parts of Baltimore, Maryland and is known as the Verger’s Tax Collector.

Hmm, yes?

Oh, you want to hear of what lies beyond this place.

Well that is…. the Northern land as far as the crow can fly to it or a horse can travel to it. Not that I’ve tried to travel there myself.

Tall mountain-scapes of tall-peaked mountains dusted with coatings of fine, crisp snow and swathes of large coniferous and deciduous trees that spread outwards to reach to them and waterfalls made from glaciers tumble downwards to form meandering rivers that spread across the strange land like arteries of a giant’s arm and gentle, bubbling streams or of becoming just deep pools of gleaming water that waterfalls just endlessly pour into them.

Autumn there brings a multi-hue of soft oranges, yellows, reds and lilacs and wildlife is ever abundant from all creatures great and small, while Ancient Text tells of how large Beast Gods roamed the forest and the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag – watched over all.

It is said the creature possesses the body of a stag, a coat of lustrous Raven’s feathers and a thicket of antler’s that are larger a normal stag’s antlers.

But that is only myth told from the Ancient Text as no-one has ever seen this creature described and yet, it is what Mason fears for some reason.

You ask me why?

It is believed because of Prophesy told to him by a mysterious cloaked figure wearing robes of sea bluish-green and holding a stuff, bearing the carving of Raven that is why. And hear is thus:

Neither Human or even a man

When the Crescent moon doth shine and become full

Turning crimson like spilled blood in the inky, black sky

Come will something that will tear and ravage you asunder

It will break your stone you surround yourself with

Bellow out it’s war cry like the horn of a Carnyx

And pierce you to the very throne you defiled

Beware the golden eyes in the night.

Now that I have started off this Tale, let’s us travel to another place – the Northern Land where we will shall find out what happened to the young man from the Wolftrap Legacy that many had believed had faded into the histories of time to be forgotten for eternity.

  PART 1

A multitude of stars shines brightly in the night-sky, while under the canopy of tall coniferous trees bearing on their fir branches white, undisturbed snow and on a perch of a half-destroyed old tree – that had been hit by lightning – sweeps off into the night on silent wings.

A ghostly white shadow among the inky blackness, while slowly golden eyes appear from the gloom as they step slowly into the moonlight now streaming through the canopy above – a pack of wolves, a family.

There is a difference – on the back of one of the Mother Alpha Wolf – last of the remaining Ancient Beasts of the Wolf Clan – is a young man, gripping her fur mixed with silvery highlights.

While in front, keeping an eye out for dangers are his wolf-brother’s – three of them – and his Wolf-sister, who walks close by. Their names in Ancient are stated thus: Murasaki Kushina – the Alpha Mother, remaining Ancient Beast of the Wolf Clan; daughter Murasaki Chiyoh; and the three sons Murasaki Ashisaki, Keito and Hiharo.

They are Will’s family, after his mother Lady Cassia - Othelia who had given birth to him in this forest one heavy winter night soon afterwards weakened by hunger and trying to survive while grieving the loss of her husband – Lord Orilivano – who unknown to her at the time of when he been a small child had been bitten by rogue Wolf – so passing on the curse onto his only son – Will.

Will knows nothing of his heritage or even where he comes from. He believes his real mother is Murasaki Kushina and knows nothing of what the birthmark on his shoulder means.

“O’kaasan, where are we going?” He asks her in the language of the Wolves – that she had taught him, and she answers in her deep soft voice. “It’s a surprise, my dear little one.”

Will smiles at that. Being with his Wolf-mother, brothers and sisters he knows nothing of the Human beyond the forest he was born in and has not seen another human ever in his life.

His real mother unbeknownst to him is buried in wooden glade, where only the Spirit of the Forest – The Ravenstag – knows where. He remembers one autumn with the leaves spiralling and dancing down onto the forest floor he seen the beautiful creature with a lustrous coat of raven’s feathers ruffling gently in the breeze as it grazed with some deer then it was gone.

Chiyoh, who had gone off soon comes up beside and hands him a branch bearing some succulent edible berries from a winter food storage hole that been made last winter and taking it with one hand, scratches her behind her ear to thank her for it.

Keito – the second youngest of Murasaki Kushina’s Wolf cubs about the same age as Will – comes up, nipping her ear playfully soon making them both bound forwards in front of the others, making Will laugh happily at the sight in front of him.

If only he knew at the time in the Kingdom of Mason Verger, a Hunter would soon be arriving in the forest he lived in and would change his life forever.

  The mountain-passes that separate the Kingdom of Mason Verger from the Northern Forest, where the Ravenstag is to dwell is a Border pass patrolled by four guards – Tobias Budge, Matthew Brown, Abel Gideon and the reluctant Frederick Chilton – who control who goes through to the other side.

Coming up the carved path in the mountainside, while heavy rain falls down causing some parts of the cliff-face to become waterfalls of murky water that tumble down into the misty abyss below, he sees a Raven flying overhead – it’s beady gaze looking down at him – and continuing head up the path, soon sees a groove hollowed by years of intense weathering going over it until it finally hollowed out a pass.

During King Crawford’s reign with his kind permission people could come and go often escorted by himself and the Queen to show the beautiful land beyond the pass then it all changed when King Mason Verger took control and changed the rule so that only a handle of people he chose could enter the pass if they were acceptable and reliable in the tasks he gave them.

Slipping off the horse, he heads to stone-carved hut shaped like large dome to within, where Frederick Chilton – one of the four Border Pass Guards who rather be somewhere else – lifts his head up from making notes to see who has come in then takes the Sealed Pass signed by King Mason from Hannibal.

Hannibal lowering his hood of his long cloak, heads back over to his horse to check she is alright at the sametime the other three Border Pass guards appear, coming into the large stone-carved dome wearing hides of animals to disguise their scent from when they go through the pass and hunt in the land beyond it.

“Chilton, who is this Silver-fox of a foreigner?” One of them – Abel Gideon – a rude, boorish brute of man wishing like Chilton to be somewhere else – like for example the whorehouses of sin, greed and lust rumoured to be run by Lady Bedelia Du Maurier.

“A Hunter, dear Gideon. He has been given a Border Pass by King Verger to enter that accursed land.” Another man speaks – Tobias Budge, once a former member of the Hunter’s Guild until leaving for unknown reasons – who know considered Hunters like Hannibal to be just worthless scum in it for the money they would get from the job.

Hannibal notices the third Border Pass guard is a young man, with his hands crossed over his chest while leaning nonchantly against the stone-carved dome wall with one leg up on it watching him with certain look. He would have to keep an eye out on this one. Something about the gaze indicated a hidden personality the other three men didn’t know about and was something Hannibal had experience with

Having a hidden personality of his own.

  It is in the middle of the night, the rain has ceased outside until leaving only pools of water on the ground in some places as Hannibal silently leaves behind the four sleeping Border Pass Guards and heads quietly to the Pass, where for the moment he soon swears he sees ghostly figure of a child – looking almost like his darling sister Mischa – then getting up into the saddle of his horse, indicates with soft click of his tongue for it to start going through the pass.

It is eerily quiet, with the wind-weathered pass looking like it is leaning in towards any travellers who come into the Pass then finally he reaches the other side to come upon a sight that has been untouched ever since Mason’s reign: large swathes of coniferous and deciduous trees spreading outwards towards towering mountains that jut out like sharp ragged teeth in the clouds of mist that surround them.

A strange sense of calm descends on Hannibal. Never has he seen such a pristine, beautiful place where Humans who once remember King Crawford’s gentle rule now fear to tread in case they incur the wrath of the now King Mason.

Slowly he begins to descend the carved path leading to the very bottom of the valley where the Ancient Beasts were still rumoured to roam and the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag – was said to dwell.

  “O’kaasan, what’s wrong?” Will asks, when Murasaki Kushina comes to halt at the large river – Kahaku – where glacial boulders covered in moss, lichen and tiny moths lay within the refreshing water that comes from the mountains in the far distance.

“Man!!!? We must leave!!!?” Come my children.” She replies to him, while Will finds himself gripping her fur more tightly and looks around at the trees that cover both sides of the large flowing river that goes through the forest and out towards the ocean.

Listening attentively, Will uses his special skill he had to block out all other noises and slips his eyes close to immerse himself fully. He soon hears a steady heartbeat coming from the “Man” as the strange creature his O’kaasan had called the strange creature.

He wondered:

Why had they come here to where he lived?

What purpose had brought them here?

Warning growls - bring him out of those internal questions - coming from his other siblings, making him shoot his eyes open seeing watching through some gaps of broken trees that have fallen into the large river at some point.

Until it managed to build a dam of sorts. The “Man” who soon moves from his watching point, gets up onto the broken branches and clambering over them begins to wade through the water towards them until stopping in the middle of the large river.

“Speak Human. You have come into our Forest with some purpose. Why?” Will hears his O’kaasan growling with her fangs bared in warning, while he slips off her back and keeps close to her.

Noticing how the strange “Man’s” maroon eyes stare at him – like they could stare deeply into his soul – and before he even is thinking he is front of them, while they stay still as he starts to pad around them.

Inhaling every mixture of scent coming from the strange “Man” - all unrecognisable and unidentifiable – then bringing his hands up to their shoulders, pushes the strange creature to kneel on both knees so their eye-level.

  Hannibal now kneeling on both his knees in the water of the large river, stays still when the young man – no doubt in his mind the remaining heir of the Wolftrap Legacy – leans close to his cheek inhaling deeply with curiosity at what is he to them.

He knows if he makes a wrong move, four wolves and a one of them an Ancient Beast described in Ancient Texts saying to have existed in this forest, could easily tear him to a bloodied mess.

Keeping his hands still by resting them on his lap, Hannibal doesn’t even flinch when a moist, warm tongue licks his ear to test his reaction and moves to the other – almost like the young man is starting to scent-mark him – then pulls back slightly giving him a look that means he must reciprocate.

Leaning close to the young man’s ear, he brings out his tongue to lick softly – wishing deep also he could take hold of the young man, but he doesn’t – and when finishes scent-marking the other in the way he been indicated then goes back to staying still to feel his cheeks grabbed hold of.

This forces him to tilt his head backwards, where soon sharp teeth or fangs – he can’t tell just yet – bite into his skin – not tearing but marking – drawing some blood as the action of it makes him gasp breathlessly.

Feeling his eyes flutter close, his hands come nearly up to take hold of the young man when a twig snapping underfoot breaks the gentle peace and calm and lowering his head after feeling he is suddenly his now alone sees the young man and the Wolves have left.

Another presence though makes him turn his face to look down the large river, seeing a sight he would never forget even until his and the young man’s tale had faded into history.

A lustrous coat made of Raven’s feathers, gleaming in the soft moonlight from above and antlers that seem to Hannibal’s mind extend to the very heavens then it tilts it’s head backwards bellowing heavily. It’s breath rising like fine mist into the cold, night air.

 PART 2

After finding a large hollow of a giant tree that has managed over years of growing in cliff-face until it’s large roots within have hollowed out some form of cave, Hannibal now sits up against one of large roots, twisted slightly as the tree which had been growing searched for water and nutrients.

On the cave wall are Ancient Markings of Forebearers who once in Ancient Times had lived in the forest with harmony with the Ancient Beasts illuminated by the makeshift fire he has made, while on makeshift some meat – rabbit – is being slowly roasted on a makeshift spit made from twigs.

He is calmly sketching with some charcoal a drawing of the young man with the wolves he had met – paying attention to the soft details of the youthful face and soft kissable lips – into an old drawing paper sketchpad and smiles softly when he senses a presence entering the cave.

Hannibal knows who it is and finishing off the final touches, gently closes the sketchpad to place it to one side then reaching forwards turns the makeshift spit so the meat is thoroughly cooked hearing the young man pad up to him.

Lowering his hands to his lap, after doing that task he turns slightly to face the young man with sea bluish-green eyes – deep pools of that colour that remind him of clear pools of water with sunlight filtering down from canopy of trees to shine down on them – curious and intrigued in what will happen next.

The young man still on his hands and knees, while wearing a lace white tunic of sorts and black breeches – which must have been stolen to make what he wears now – reaches for one of Hannibal’s hands. Taking hold of it, while he forgets how to breathe at the feel of tempting kissable lips brush against his wrist’s pulse followed by hint of fangs.

“Something wrong, my Love?”  He asks, before he can correct himself because they’re not Lovers and yet, he couldn’t deny the attraction he was starting to develop for this feral Wolf-Child with curly-brown locks and something else within him he just couldn’t explain what.

“No, just the way you look at me.” The young man replies to him, lifting his head with his eyes closed at first, while stilling holding Hannibal’s wrist as Hannibal finds himself stroking the young man’s delicate cheekbone with feather light touches.

This makes the young man flutter his eyes open, revealing those beautiful eyes when he goes to move his hand away to sort the makeshift spit, so the meat doesn’t burn scorching him with such heat from that look, Hannibal can feel himself slowly becoming aroused then composes himself only just, asks the question.

“How do I look to you?” making the young man smile at him, replying with “As if you were deciding whether or not to eat me. Not that I’m adverse to the idea.” then goes back to nuzzling Hannibal’s wrist as Hannibal starts to feel conflicted by what has been said to him.

It was true, he had a darker side to after tortured in his own homeland by the rogue General – Vladimir Grutas – who overthrown his father and in front of his very young eyes at 17 years of age had taken his little baby sister away, while Gruta’s men took great relish and pleasure in violating his body again and again until he been forced to accept he would starve if he did not eat the food they gave him.

Then to his ultimate horror happened to him, they brought him food and due to his weakened state Hannibal had eaten it then afterwards had discovered the food had been his own sister – slaughtered for meat.

Anger had risen in him, while he soon killed the men who had murdered his sister and as the years went by when he travelled to the land King Mason owned after overthrowing King Crawford in the shadows of alleyways and underground caverns he was given another name “The Chesapeake Ripper” - based on the mythological monster the Wendigo from Ancient Texts who ate the flesh of man.

Coming out of the harsh, cold memory he locks it away in the oubliettes of his Mind Palace and slips his hand away to check the meat on the makeshift spit – finding it is ready to eat – then taking it off the holder, rips some of the meat off and holds it out to the young man.

Sea bluish-green eyes flick to the meat and to him than back to the meat, while Hannibal sighs softly and states. “It’s not poisoned. See.” tearing the meat piece in two then eating it to show to the young man it is only rabbit meat with some wild rosemary he found growing near the cave sprinkled on top.

The young man leans upwards though taking the other half of the meat from his fingers and placing it in his mouth soon presses his lips against Hannibal’s causing him to stiffen slightly then fully relaxing, opens his mouth as the meat is soon shared between them through their mouth’s.

He finds himself starting to breathe heavily through both his nostrils, changing position each time when a warm, moist tongue laps against his and starts to entwine as they keep on eating the rabbit meat between themselves then before he is even thinking of what he is doing, Hannibal has soon pinned the feral Wolf-child to the cave floor on his blanket – he had laid out from his traveling kit - and yet, keeps his hands either side of the young man’s head.

Both are breathing heavily, while he can feel soft hands start to unlace his clothes and pulls back heavily only to soon arch slightly with a breathless hitched gasp when feels the young man leans up to bite one of his nipples through the fabric of his crème-white tunic at the sametime twisting the other nipple, so it rises and peaks under those ministrations.

His hands begin to scar into the cave floor slightly as he un-arches his back and leans over the young man still gasping breathlessly as between his thighs in the confines of breeches, Hannibal can feel the tightening pressure indicating he is slowly becoming aroused and needs to release it one way or another then moves his head back down to kiss the young man again, needing to distract himself from it.

A hand clawing down his shoulder – sharp and lethal feeling to his skin – causes him to groan heavily in machoistic pleasure as it draws some blood in the process, while a sly soft hand soon slips between his thighs to cup him through his breeches heavily and starts to unlace him teasingly slow it makes move his lips away to pant heavily in the young man’s ear.

“If…. you don’t hurry. I won’t last much longer.”

“Don’t worry….I plan to extend this for very long indeed, Hunter.”

“Not….haaa….You wee minx!!!?....not Hunter, but Hannibal.”

“Hannibal….….hmm…then evidently I should tell you mine.”

“Yes…. ahhh!!...Oh, there, you wee minx!!!”

“Will, my name is Will.”

Hannibal wonders how long he can last, while Will now slips downwards, and he find himself flinging his head backwards crying out heavily when he finds himself swallowed down into moist, hot mouth then slipping his hands downwards grips the young man’s head to hold it closer to his groin, watching the sleek curly brown head start to bob back and forth between his thighs.

His mouth agape, he finds himself fisting his hands into the blanket for support as slick, slurp noises and breathless moans, gasps, pants and whimpers fill the cave then he tenses heavily, heart pounding heavily against ribcage feeling himself cup the young man’s cheek to stroke it as the sinful moist, hot mouth swallows down his release.

Soon Hannibal falls backwards to land slightly on the tree root and his travelling pack then whimpers from overstimulation when he is forced to experience another orgasm, while the young man has managed to slip his clothes off fully leaving him only in his crème-white tunic and lace breeches wide open to fully expose him.

“Enough…. Will…Enough!!!......I…want you!!” He gasps out, chest heaving heavily with laboured gasps making the young man raise his head, some remnants of Hannibal’s seed still on his lips and crawls up to him to look at him.

“You want….me?”

“Is that so much to ask of you?”

“No…..I want you as well, Hannibal. I want you…..as my….Mate.”

  “No…...I want you as well, Hannibal. I want you…...as my….Mate.”

Those words echo and re-echo in Hannibal’s mind, while hands begin to peel of clothes until both are free of them as maroon eyes soon look downwards at a beautiful unblemished and un-marked body then the young man rolls into his back, getting up onto his hands and knees.

Dipping his spine in such a way, it shows the perfect curve of it and willing his heart to stop thudding against his ribcage gets over Will to fully mount him at the sametime slipping his hands down the young man’s sides to grip his hips then bends his head down to gently kiss the nape of his soon-to-be-lover.

Inhaling the natural scent of him, making Will turn to nuzzle his nose against his affectionally and stroking his cheek with one hand whispering to him. “Did you just smell me?” as Hannibal, finds himself reaching into his traveling pack to get out the glass bottle of oil – which will just have to do for what was going to happen next.

“Difficult to avoid, Myilamis, when you tempt me so much with your beautiful eyes, lips and body.” He replies in husky whisper, uncorking the bottle of healing oil with one hand and thoroughly coating his fingers in it.

“Hurry…...I want you, Hannibal.” Will whimpers, making Hannibal snarl slightly, biting down on the young man’s nape for his impatience hearing it cause a breathless moan as those fine hips push back into his groin and slipping hand down with fingers coated in the oil, cups between those fine cheeks.

He rubs his oil-coated fingers over the puckered entrance, hearing the soft breathless moans coming from the young man as he starts to spread the oil on it then slips a finger within into tight, warm insides.

Hearing Will soon give a pleasured cry and arch against him slightly, followed by the young man turning his flushed face to look at Hannibal with mouth agape in breathless pants and gasps over his shoulder.

“Please…...Hannibal?”

Kissing Will’s nape, he coats himself enough with the oil and leaning over his soon-to-be-lover or Mate has he been called pushes his hips forwards until finally become fully sheathed within tight, warm insides as he trembles heavily over Will, feeling himself arching slightly when inner muscles choose to clench around his cock in such a way it is exquisite.

“Will…. if you squeeze me like that, I’ll……cum before we even mated properly.” Hannibal pants out, feeling Will relax his inner muscles around him and yet, only start to undulate his hips back and forth into his – the urge to Mate becoming strong.

Breathless moans, harsh pants and gasps followed by skin slapping against skin fills the cave, while the scent of Mating rises into the air then a guttural cry, followed by gasping of “Oh…god!!!…. Will!!!.” and finally silence as both succumb to what they just experienced together.

 PART 3

The dawn chorus of birds singing makes Will gently curled up against his now Mate’s or Hannibal’s warm, muscular with the blanket over both their bodies, flutter his eyes open only to shoot them open as he suddenly realises what he has done and panicking heavily, wriggles free out of the older man’s grip.

“Myilamis, what’s wrong?” Hannibal asks him, reaching out for him as he flinches away from it, moving back on his and knees at the sametime a shadow covers the cave entrance to reveal the sight of his Wolf-mother – Murasaki Kushina – who flicks her gaze over to Hannibal, who he can see is now kneeling with his head bowed low.

Blondish hair falling in front of his bowed head, which nearly touches the cave floor, and something is said to his Mate. But he doesn’t understand what is said, so just watches as Hannibal reaches for his strange clothes to slip back on.

  “SILENCE, HUMAN!!!”

Hannibal standing in front of Murasaki Kushina – the Wolf Goddess, last of the Ancient Beasts of the Wolf Clan – as she rests on top of a large boulder that juts out from large precipe carved strangely in the shape of a wolf, with it’s mouth bared open, while waterfall falls out of the mouth to tumble down into the abyss below knows he shouldn’t have angered her.

But he had to tell her at some point that Will is going to figure out he is Human of sorts and he came from the land on the other side of Border Pass, while she was not his actual Mother.

“I apologise, Murasaki Kushina-san. But you must understand King Mason wishes me to rid you of the son you have raised as though he was your own and give him the head of the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag – because he believes it can cure whatever is affecting the people of his what are not his lands.”  Hannibal apologises to her, remembering when he had seen the beautiful creature at night looking straight at him.

Like it could see deep into his soul. And maybe it could see deep into his soul – see the deep secret he was keeping hidden from other humans around him, about the mark on his arm shaped as golden ferns with black flowers growing on them that if people saw it they would think he had the strange Plague that was spreading through the land of King Mason.

“You must leave, Human. If you came back here to this land, I will rip of your head. Do you understand?” She snarls at him, causing him to lift his head up to stare into those eyes of her’s and finds himself replying. “And leave Will behind. He is Human and Heir of the Wolf-trap Legacy.” Then shouts the rest of the words at her, feeling the anger rising in him.

“HOW LONG DO YOU THINK YOU KEEP HIM LIKE THIS!!! EYES UNCLOUDED FROM WHAT IS STARTING TO HAPPEN!!!”

“ENOUGH, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I HAVE DONE TO PROTECT HIM!!! HIS MOTHER DIED GIVING BIRTH TO HIM AND IF I LEFT HIM HE WOULD HAVE DIED HIMSELF AS A BABE!!!!”

A snarl escapes from Murasaki Kushina, bearing her fangs with dripping saliva and getting up from her perch, jumps down to lunge towards him biting straight down into his shoulder with them – going through muscle and bone.

Blood soon spurts upwards into the air, covering the ground with crimson petals as Hannibal feels himself being pushed backwards to the edge of carved precipe. This forces him to brace his feet apart and place his hands on her muzzle trying to make her see some sense of reason when he suddenly feels he is right at the edge of the precipe of the carved stone wolf’s snout.

“O’KAASAN!!!? NO!!!!?

A shout – Will shouting – makes Murasaki Kushina immediately still in nearly pushing Hannibal off the edge, while he feels himself soon being turned and flung heavily down the jutted precipe causing the blood from his shoulder to smear down the stone.

Covering it slightly in gleaming path of crimson, while he rolls down the arched stone-carved neck of the stone Wolf coming to the bottom where he finds himself hitting a tree branch that had fallen over at some point – a long time ago – with a sickening thud.

He goes to get up, seeing Will has gotten in front of him on his hands and knees looking different from before – his hands have become sharp claws and fangs have unsheathed – and hearing snarling coming from his Lover.

Murasaki Kushina, her muzzle still covered in his own blood looks between them both – to her own adopted son and to Hannibal – making him lower his head slightly, wishing it hadn’t been in this kind of way as she says to him. “What have you done!!!!?”

She pads close, only for Will to get in front of him as the young man’s voice starts to come out in warning snarls for her to back off and hackles raised, while sea bluish-green eyes have become like swirling tempest then something glinting out of the corner of his eye, makes Hannibal try and get up - even though he is deeply wounded.

He watches the iron bullet - that come from a rifle – in slow motion impact into her shoulder, shattering it to an explosion of bone, muscle and blood making Murasaki Kushina stumble backwards only slightly as he manages to hold Will back for his own safety then a loud bang echoes in the air around them, one Hannibal recognises as a fire-cannon – lit by a piece of charcoal causing a reaction to allow the iron ball to explode out towards whoever the weapon had been pointed at.

It slams into the Wolf-Goddess with such force, her large body falls off the precipe of the stone-carved wolf into the raging white-frothed waters of the waterfall that tumbles out of the open mouth down into the rising mist that comes up from the abyss.

Will manages to wriggle out of his grasp, rushing over to edge to look down at the sametime Hannibal – who had taken his crossbow with him, when Murasaki Kushina had asked to talk to him – sensing the person hiding in the foliage of the bushes and trees, kneels up bringing it up then quickly fires an iron arrow to where he can see the hidden Hunter hiding.

It causes a cry to become half-choked one, when it hits and blood spurts up slightly to land on the ground illuminated slightly to indicate he got whoever they had been then immediately drops it when the pain in his shredded wound reminds him he must get to his traveling pack – where healing herbs where in it.

At the sametime, he suddenly hears Will emit a blood-curdling howl – head tilted backwards to expose his throat – of such pure grief, pain and anguish it penetrates deeply into Hannibal’s soul.

Emotions he had locked away after Mischa’s death to become released from the confines of the oubliettes he put them in and allows for single solitary tear to run down his cheek then because of the blood-loss he is experiencing, he feels himself falling to one side with a muffled thump.

His breathing starts to come in laboured gasps, while Will who is still in his Wolf-like state comes over to him starting to nudge him to try make him keep his eyes open as he hears his Lover whining heavily – not able to speak – at him.

“It’s alright, Will. I want…leave…. you…...It’s alright….”

Hannibal manages to say, before darkness sweeps in like raven’s wings and covers his vision as he sinks into unconscious state.

  In the centre of the forest, where the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag – dwells, is a large island with giant sequoia growing on it as the roots of the large tree reach beneath the earth and into the lake, while it is the island that Will now leads Hannibal’s horse – Cersai – with Hannibal on her bare back, until they finally both reach it.

Reaching up with his hands, Will pulls Hannibal off her bare back into the water pulling his Mate over to soft bed of moss, where wildflowers – rare and unknown to any Human eye – grow then sunlight soon filters down from through the large gap of the ring of trees to shine down on the three figures – a horse, a young man with Wolf-blood running through his veins and Hunter who was now his Mate and had captured his heart.

  Blackness like ink from inkwell surrounds Hannibal Lecter as the man lays calmly on the bed of moss, surrounded by wildflowers as little Kodoma start to appear curious and intrigued by him then sit around him – some on the moss-covered rocks and others on the roots of the Great Sequoia.

A tinkling noise echoes in the air, followed by leaf from way above starting to float gently downwards swaying and dancing in the soft breeze until finally it lands in the clear lake water to be blown gently across as the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag.

The Kodoma seeing their Lord, head away and up the tree in trail of white until finally disappearing leaving the area empty of them.

It begins to walk, bringing down it’s cloven each-time onto the lake water causing golden ripples to spread outwards on the water until it finally comes up to Hannibal, looking down at him.

Black eyes seeming to show a multitude of a field of stars in them, while it soon bends its fine head down to touch it’s snout to the ragged shoulder wound allowing for golden ripple to spread outwards over it then pulls back, seeing the Curse mark from an Ancient Beast turned into a Daemon on the Hunter’s wrist whispering into the man’s mind:

You must find a way to heal that yourself, Lord Hannibal Lecter of the Dvaras Line.

Then finished with the task it has done of healing the ragged shoulder wound made by the fangs of Murasaki Kushina – Ancient Beast and Last of the Wolf Clan – tilts it’s head upwards to the canopy of ringed trees as it body starts to change.

 In the canopy of the ringed trees, little white Kodama begin to appear watching their Lord, who has now become the Spirit-Walker of Moon – who is also known as the Ravenstag when it is day – and slowly one by one their heads begin to click back and forth, while Spirit-Walker of the Moon starts to walk making the gentle breeze become a strong wind.

This moves the tops of the large swathes of the trees all around in the forest back and forth like waves going back and forth on the sea-shore, while the little white Kodoma move with the wind as Spirit-Walker begins its nightly vigil.

   You must find a way to heal that yourself, Lord Hannibal Lecter of the Dvaras Line.”

Weakly fluttering his eyes open, Hannibal hears that phrase that been whispered to him in the dream or had it been a dream echo until dissipating like it never existed as laughter – child-like – fills his ears, followed by a voice saying his name. “Hannebae.”  then finds himself hoarsely whispering the spirit's name "Mischa" 

 She giggles softly, her laughter soft and light. Just like it had been when she been alive, while he goes to get up only to wince heavily when his wounded shoulder protests making him place a hand to it. Only to feel where there had been a ragged wound is now healed flesh - like Murasaki Kushina had never sunk her fangs - then lays back down, while Mischa comes up to sit in front of him.

He tries to understand:

Why had the Spirit of the Forest - the Ravenstag - healed him in this way?

But why?

And for what purpose?

Soft, little hands cupping his cheeks makes him look at the spirit of his sister Mischa and smiling softly, rests his forehead against her's - like he used do when they were children then understand he was been given a chance to say goodbye to her.

As he hadn’t had when she had been murdered by the rogue General – Vladimir Grutas – and pulling back, strokes her cheek lightly with the back of his knuckles as her beautiful eyes inherited from their mother seem to sparkle with happiness at being allowed before she moves onto the Spirit World that she can say goodbye to him and Hannibal to her.

“Goodbye, sweet little Mischa.”

He whispers hearing her whispered reply of “Hannebae.” allowing for the tear that has formed to run down his cheek to plip onto the grass where her Spirit had been then lowering his hands down to his lap, senses his mare – Cersai – come up to from where she had been grazing.

Nudging his head lightly with her snout, making him bring his hand up to go and cup her cheek, when he stiffens at the sight of the mark on his wrist making him lower it to unlace his tunic sleeve seeing as he un-wraps the bandage that covers it – seeing the gold ferns with black flowers on them has spread more.

The Curse Mark came from an Ancient Boar God who due to iron bullet made by Mason’s Blacksmith Francis Dolerhyde – the man not knowing the weapons he made would be used to get rid of the Ancient Beasts in the Northern Lands – become a Plague Monster – a seething mass of hatred, rage and anger.

It had nearly destroyed the village he been staying in, before traveling to Baltimore, Maryland and knowing the cost of becoming permanently cursed if he allowed it to gore him in any way Hannibal had killed it – severing its life.

But it had managed to wound and curse by stabbing one of it’s tusks into his lower abdomen before he had done so, spreading the Curse it carried into his bloodstream and so creating within him The Chesapeake Ripper.

The Wise Woman of the village in the Western Land, who had experienced a vision of this event happening had told him he must leave before he affects the whole village by mindlessly slaughtering them in a bloodlust fury.

Leaving the village behind he had also left his betrothed-to-be Miriam Lass – the Village Chief’s daughter – and remembers how she was always curious and investigating into things she really shouldn’t have.

She had given him just before he left, both of her curved crystal daggers forcing him to not break his promise that if he found a cure he would return to her because she was his Betrothed.

The daggers were made from crystal mined from the caves near the Village in the Western Land – sharp and deadly, while glinting with many hues of dark purple, emerald and purple.

Deciding not to dwell on those memories, he lays back down feeling still drained of energy and sorting the bandage rolls his sleeve back down then just stares up at the canopy of the ringed trees, seeing the wispy white clouds spreading outwards in the light blue sky.

  Sunlight streams down through the canopies of the mixed trees, illuminating certain patches of ground as Will comes to the edge of large lake occupied by a large island with a Giant Sequoia.

He heads over to some moss-covered stones jutting out of the water gently bounding across them leaving only a light footprint in his wake.  It soon disappears as the moss springs back.

His Mate Hannibal is awake, resting on a moss-bed surrounded by wildflowers as Cersai – his dappled grey white mare is lying beside him on his left-hand side. Hannibal must have sensed him or heard him in some way, because the man rises slightly up on his elbows giving a smile – a weak one, but still a smile – then getting on his hands and knees, pads up to the man.

  Rising slightly up onto his elbows, Hannibal sits up instead when Will indicates the Scent-marking Ritual so tilting his head backwards exposes his neck to allow himself to be scent-mark it then when that is done, does the same to his young lover.

“Are you hungry?” I brought some food.” Will asks him – after they have affectionally nuzzled against each-other – reaching into a makeshift pouch-bag made from rabbit skins – dried and tanned in the sun – to bring out some dry-cured meat.

He watches place it in his own mouth, chewing it and placing his hands-on Hannibal’s shoulders leans towards him to feed him this way - the meat transferred by mouth to mouth, until he feels his strength slowly starting to return then notices Will has slid one hand down to place it on his abdomen.

"Will, what's wrong? Is your stomach hurting?" Hannibal asks, going to reach when a warning growl coming from Will's Wolf-sister makes him lower his hand and look over to her.

"Do not touch. Unless you are willing to submit by exposing your belly." She says, making him look to his young lover for confirmation if he should and Will silently nods to him.

Managing to move, he lays on his side to expose his belly like he has been asked and waits for Will to indicate to him he has passed the… test… tasked him with then his hand is taken hold of and placed on his young lover’s abdomen.

“Hannibal, I’m pregnant. I’ve conceived your child as it seems when we mated the Crescent moon was in the sky. It means for Wolves that it is Mating Season.” Will tells him, with tear-filled eyes filled with tears of happiness, joy and gladness they were having a family.

Will was bearing. His young lover with Wolf-blood in his veins was pregnant with his child or children and find himself trembling heavily because he knows he must tell Will also about the Curse-mark he bears.

“Will….” He begins to say, when Will’s three Wolf-brothers suddenly appear from the other side of the shoreline and after bounding across the stones, surround them as Hannibal sees they are looking over to the densest part of the shoreline.

Great hulking shadows move into the sunlight streaming down to reveal thousands of boars being led by one who could be a leader of some kind.

“Boars from the Western Lands.” One of Will’s Wolf-brother’s – Hiharo – says and asks a question, which even Hannibal can’t answer now. “Why have they come here?”

Had the Strange Plague reached the Western lands without his knowledge?

Hannibal feels concerned now at seeing the sight of Boars that knew roamed the forests of the Western lands and notices one is looking at him.

 “I am Will of the Murasaki Kushina Clan. Why have you come to here?”

Hannibal standing close to his young lover, who has introduced himself to the Boar Leader, who stands with a large herd of thousand strong Warrior Boars – whispering among themselves as why a Human was in the Northern Lands, home of the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag.

“I am Ouras, second-in-command of Lord Jakkoto’s Boar Clan.” The Boar – Ouras - replies, followed looking over to Hannibal and back to Will, asking the young man a question. “Why is a Human here than…in this forest?”

“Hannibal is my….Mate. He was badly wounded, so the Spirit of the Forest healed him” Will replies, causing Ouras to stare at him with widened eyes and turns his gaze back to Hannibal saying the next words in sneering tone, so his young lover can hear them.

“Then why didn’t the Spirit of the Forest – the Ravenstag – save the Queen of our Clan. Because your…..Mate….murdered her in cold blood without mercy.”

“HOW DARE YOU, PIG!!!!”

Hannibal hears his young lover’s Wolf-sister – Chiyoh – snarling with fangs bared, making him step in front of her and rolling his tunic sleeve down then unwraps the bandage to reveal to Ouras and everyone else – including Will – the Curse-mark.

“YOUR LYING!!!! THAT DID NOT HAPPEN TO OUR QUEEN!!!”

“OURAS, ENOUGH. SILENCE YOUR TONGUE THIS INSTANT!!!”

Everything goes still. All the Boars bowing their heads low as Ouras – now ashamed of his actions – does the same and pads back so not incur the wrath of the Great Boar God, last of his kind and one of the Ancient Beasts mentioned in Ancient times – the Lord Jakkoto.

The large Boar towers above all other Boars and a normal-sized Human, while coming up to Hannibal who soon notices Lord Jakkoto is blind in both eyes.

Placing his hand on the Boar’s snout, he stays still as Lord Jakkoto deeply inhales to read everything from the Curse-mark then satisfied the large Boar steps back from him, while Hannibal now waits.

“The…Human did not kill her Queen.” Lord Jakkoto says to his Clan-members, while Will comes over to Hannibal and wraps his arms around his waist then taking a deep breath, Hannibal begins to tell the story.

He tells of the Tribal Village in the Western Lands where he stayed during his travels, which had suddenly become attacked one by an Ancient Beasts who had become a Plague Beast – a seething mass of anger, rage and hate – and would have destroyed everything in it’s path of Hannibal hadn’t killed it.

It was only afterwards, he found out that it had been a female Boar Goddess affected by an Iron bullet used by King Mason’s men. The weapons he found out were used to kill Ancient Beasts.

“Lord Jakkoto, I am sorry for taking the life of your Mate and Queen of your Clan.” He apologises, hearing many of the Boars of the Clan start to cry heavily at the fact their Queen had succumbed to something they had heard only rumours about.

[fandom-hell-ferrylass]

Beware!

A/N: time to answer the question I asked last time in A Spoonful of Sugar. not much of a build-up but maybe it’ll be entertaining.

as always, still rusty and stretching my prose wings so the style is all over the place, especially cause I write in bursts which means some bits are more fluid and some are incredibly impacted by things I’ve read just before writing. it’s a rollercoaster that I’m enjoying :D

Alice’s heart thumped in time to the muted bassline thudding from the hidden front of the stage. The dancing lights were a myriad multi-glow washing faintly over Tarrant’s face, muddling the colours of their costumes weirdly even as the Hatter’s eyes glinted with barely-contained excitement. One of his gangly arms snuck around her waist and Alice found herself twirling around as the Hatter danced to the techno beats Nivens was dishing out.

“30 seconds, guys!”

Alice waved to the stagehand to let them know she heard them before pulling her attention back to her partner.

“Did you hear him, Tarrant?”

“What’s that, Alice-My-Dear?”

“We’re on in 30 seconds.”

“Wonderful! Next set, next set!”

The woman laughed as Tarrant spun on his heel, her safely secured in his arms.

“Last set, Hatter! Last set of the night!”

The man stopped spinning, Alice sliding out of his grip to stagger slightly as she regained her footing.

“Last set?” His voice was so sad, Alice couldn’t help but smile gently and cupped his cheek.

“Of the night, dear. Tomorrow we’ll have more T.”

His face lit up again. Tarrant sandwiched her hand in both of his and pulled her against him. Alice tipped her head nearly all the way back to gaze up at the face hovering over hers. The man’s grin just below the hat brim was nigh-on Cheshire.

“Do you promise, My Alice?”

She fought the urge to bite her bottom lip against a surge of attraction.

“Ah. Ahum?”

Both singer’s heads snapped around to stare at the crew member standing a few feet away. The man clutched a clipboard and was trying to not stare at the entwined pair.

Alice swallowed the squeak in her voice. “Yes? Did we miss the cue?”

The man shook his head. “Ah. No, no, just about to go. But I was told to let you know, they’re intro’ing something new tonight. So when everything stops, they want you to stop too. The band has been informed. You’re on!”

Before either could react, Nivens’s voice filtered through the speakers.

“Welcome back your Mad Hatter and the lovely Alice!”

With a shared look of confusion, Tarrant yelped and tore off for the stage at a run, Alice’s hand firmly in his grasp.

Alice’s laughter was pulled from her throat as Tarrant spun her across the stage, barely missing Mally as he chased after Thackery. The Hare eyed the Dormouse and bounded away with a grin. Even Abs and Chessur were grooving as much as their stations allowed. The Mad T Party Band was full swing in their element as the crowds faded into the blinding coloured haze. Alice felt Tarrant’s arm loop around her waist again, felt him guide her through the lyrics and the chords as her voice reached out to join his in a harmonic, mesmerizing dance. 

The heady thumping of bass and drum pulsed in her breastbone, the sizzle of squealing guitar tingled the nerve endings in her fingers. Tarrant spun her out again and she pirouetted to find herself happily sandwiched between Mally and Thack as they joined the two singers. The four cavorted, twisting themselves as the people at their feet shrieked, reaching out for them. Together they laughed and bounced away from the grasping hordes, never missing a step, drinking in the madness as oxygen for starving lungs.

The crackle of dissipating energy shifted on the air as Mally drew a few last wailing notes from his guitar and the crowd erupted. The flounced edges of her bodice heaved as Alice gulped in a few draughts, the warm air making her head swim a bit with the glare of lights. She concentrated on smile and wave, dimly aware of Tarrant talking through his own need for breath. 

The man swaggered across the stage, slinging an arm over Thackery’s shoulders as the Hare stood at the stage front with Mally, the pair interacting with the giddy audience. A wide smile turned her lips as she watched the trio before glancing at the two men behind her. They met her eyes with equally happy looks, but she noticed a glance between them. Something about the look ticked something in her head.

Wasn’t there something we were supposed to wait for—

The lights went out, the entire Rabbit Hole plunged into pure darkness.

Everything in her told her to cry out. Her limbs immediately cramped as Alice forcibly locked her body still and brought her jaw together so hard she felt her teeth ache. She remembered now. The crew member. He had told them to stay still while the stage went dark.

The sudden lack of vision had made the crowd exclaim in surprise, and as the seconds ticked on, a low murmur started to grow. Alice jerked her head up as a rustle of cloth came from somewhere ahead of her. Through the nighttime gloom, she blinked and squinted, willing her sight to adjust faster. Straining, the woman could just make out three figures in the dark, and three very distinctive shapes that told her Mally, Thack, and Tarrant had also not moved.

The joy that had been coursing through her veins seconds before bled from her, evaporating like something was leeching it from her. She panicked, reaching for the last bright spark as it flickered in her chest. A cloying, clinging fear reached up and snuffed it out in a blink.

She couldn’t help it, something in her mind, a shrill insistent voice was suddenly screaming at her to get to Tarrant get to the boys something’s wrong GET TO TARRANT! Her lips parted as she took a wobbling step forward. She tried to will back the breathy sob that dropped from her mouth as she felt something cold and whispy curl up her legs, licking at her fingertips. The tall hat outlined against some vague distant light tilted sharply. The chill kissed the skin of her cheek and Alice petrified, her eyes closing so tightly she didn’t see Tarrant’s head snap around, looking for her.

The Hatter knew the Dormouse and Hare had heard the sound behind them at the same time. A soft, unmistakable noise only one person on that stage could have made. All three men stiffened as Tarrant’s head tilted sharply, listening. A charge passed between them, a piece of their minds flaring to life as their muscles kicked into a mode they’d had little use for in this world. 

Another soft gasp reached their ears and they moved in startling rhythm as Tarrant spun around, blazing gold eyes probing the blackness, Thackery and Mally pressing back to back behind him to make a triangular formation. To an untrained eye, it was no different from ways they had stood on the stage many times before - they knew better. A fighting stance is hard to forget when it’s as familiar as breathing.

Tarrant made to take a step when he felt the strange coolness lick across his left hand. He tipped his head down for a moment before swinging his arm in front of him. The chill parted and billowed, curling up around his shoulders and behind him. Mally growled under his breath at the stuff over the Hatter’s shoulder.

Again Tarrant made to move towards Alice.

A weird cackling laugh from the darkness made his blood freeze.

All six of them knew the exact instant something stepped foot on the stage. A wave of fog and cold roiled along the ground, nearly tangible. It swallowed them whole. Panic and hate clawed along their spines, drawing unbidden, shuddering breaths puffing in the air around their mouths. Thackery felt his ears twitch and tremble and squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself rooted. Mally’s hackles rose, twisting his face into a violent snarl hidden by the dark. Tarrant’s fingers spasmed, he had to strangle the urge to pull the false hat pins from his hat and wield them like daggers. 

Hidden behind his drums, Chessur hunkered down and willed himself into nothingness. Even as his body faded from view, he fought the urge to slither down and find their Mad leader, to fall into his everlasting role of espionage and deceit as The Cat. He eyed the man behind the keyboard. Absolem was hunched over, gripping the edges of the instrument as he swept murderous eyes over every inch of their stage haven.

When the Caterpillar’s eyes stopped moving, Chessur’s eyes followed. Without a word, without a sign, one by one, all five Underlanders turned their eyes towards the human woman frozen in the center of the stage. An eerie purple glow faded up to reveal a figure standing before Alice, hood up, a glowing purple violin dangling from their left hand. A sudden wash of UV glow revealed the scale pattern on the figure’s costume, and Tarrant had never been so glad the audience couldn’t see Alice’s terrified face crumple with the memories of a battle she couldn’t help but remember.

When the figure spun around and a purple-red spotlight appeared, a delighted gasp flared from the people below. Tarrant glared beneath his hat. Those people, those fools had no idea exactly what was standing on that stage before them. He didn’t even need to see the small wings mockingly affixed to the figure’s tiny backpack - it only served to deepen his shadowy frown.

The hood rose with sinister precision and the figure lunged toward the stage front. A delightedly startled scream went up and a wide array of fanged teeth appeared in the blacklight, a grin of immense threat. The wicked grin bobbed as the head lolled around and suddenly they were on the move.

The sound of held breath was erased as the figure’s bow met their instrument’s strings. Shivers abounded as hauntingly dark, sneering notes echoed across the hushed spaces. They drew note after chord as they slithered across the stage and halted in front of the keyboardist. Absolem refused to move or adjust his gaze from the spot the figure had appeared. The hood bobbed a moment, nodding, and took three low sliding steps right. Chessur followed them with his saucer eyes, watched them square up with his drums. He watched the hood move jerkily for a moment and a smug grin began to tilt across his mouth. His little trick never failed to impress.

The grin vanished when the hood snapped directly towards him and the terrible teeth grinned wider. The Cat felt his hair stand up and a low rumble reverberated in his chest. The figure tossed their head and bounced away. They never stopped playing.

The scaly being stalked across the stage, swaying and undulating their steps snake-like as they made for the trio at the front. Mally’s instinct to pounce was thwarted as Thackery dug his fingers into the Dormouse’s shirt while Tarrant’s hand wrapped around his wrist. The three stared down into the hood, recoiling at the grinning maw. But Tarrant found his gaze locked with a pair of red eyes tilting to bore deeper into his. The surprise of it rattled him, and belatedly he realized the distance he was looking down at the figure - the same distance he looked down at Alice. He didn’t realize his hand was lifting towards the hood until the grinning teeth frowned and the hood jerked out of his reach. He remained still, one hand hovering still, the terribleness of the moment starting to be shoved aside to make way for other just-as-bizarre thoughts. Distractedly he watched the violinist make for their last target.

Alice imagined there were ice crystals forming in her veins. There had to be, it was the only reasonable explanation for the freezing cold sensation traveling up from her toes. Her skin prickled as her hair stood on end at the sight of the bared fangs grinning at her from the hood’s dark depths. She couldn’t have run even if she tried, her eyes the only thing moving as the figure circled her, a predator sizing up its prey.

When it vanished behind her, she wanted to cry. When a puff of warm breath sent shivers across her neck, she wanted to faint. She wasn’t expecting a mouth to appear next to her ear.

“Did you miss me, Champion?”

This time when the stage went dark, Alice didn’t try to keep herself on her feet. Her knees buckled and she sagged. Two pairs of hands gently wrapped around her arms and kept her from wobbling as a third pair of arms curled around her waist to keep her upright. Neither Tarrant, Mally, or Thackery cared when light from the giant screens behind them revealed their sudden, new positions.

Excited screams made them glance over their shoulders. On the screens behind them floated an image of their Mad T Party stage but with a figure silhouetted in the foreground. With their back turned, it was easy to see the pair of wings. They could see the scales, and the waves of braided hair cascading around the figure’s face. This did nothing to hide the menacingly glowing red eye smirking over one shoulder. At the bottom floated too-cheery red-purple-black letters spelling out three chilling words.

The backstage doors shook the walls as they slammed open. Absolem spared the briefest glance at the deep gouges in the plaster as he trailed behind the rest of the band. Nobody else cared. They hadn’t felt anything for the past 13 minutes.

The band had barely finished their set and managed to not bolt off-stage as the digital image leered down at them. Absolem and Chessur had abandoned their posts to huddle with the others and try to keep the rising terror contained. Tarrant hadn’t released their blond songstress for a second while he quickly thanked the crowd and handed the Rabbit Hole reigns over to the Twins. As the group stumbled clumsily down the stage stairs, Nivens was nervously waiting for them.

He sought out Tarrant’s dark golden gaze and they shared a long look of infinite conversation. Mally and Thack stood shoulder to shoulder behind them during the exchange, the Dormouse trying to calm the Hare and vise versa, the Hare trying to keep the Dormouse’s fury in check. Chessur stepping in helped - the Cat was no stranger to riding the waves of emotion and he could taste the prickling shroud that had descended upon their little corner of the world. The look he gave Absolem could have filled a tome.

Nobody knew this was coming.

For once the band did not tarry to greet loyal fans and share smiles and laughs and fuel the ever-burning T fires. Thack barely managed a faint wave and apologetic smile as the Underlanders bypassed the meet-and-greet area to stagger towards relative safety. As the sounds of the party faded behind them, their attentions shattered and zipped in all manner of direction. The most prominent thought amongst them, though they didn’t know it, was how could they have not known It was here?!

“Have you any remote inkling what exactly you’ve done??”

Alice took a hasty step forward but stopped herself. Tarrant’s eyes were flashing from acid green to molten gold so quickly it was making her eyes hurt. She shot a pleading look at Thackery. If they didn’t do something, the Mad Hatter was going to lay the entire Rabbit Hole to waste in his righteous fury.

Their stage manager didn’t seem to understand the immediate peril he was in. The man glanced up from a clipboard and gave the irate Hatter a self-pleased grin.

“Fantastic idea, don’t you think? Only a few months to set it all up, and just in time for the Halloween season! It’s gonna be a great parallel to Hallow T.”

The Underlanders paled. Alice facepalmed.

“A gimmick? It’s all a gimmick? Letting one of the most weird and dangerous creatures of all literature lose in the human world ... for a show?!?” Tarrant’s voice was getting rougher by octaves, words tingeing heavily with his native brogue.

“I know, right? The perfect kind of scary element for a Disney park! The kids are gonna lose their minds. Which reminds me, introductions are in order. ”

Six pairs of manic eyes snapped across the room as something moved over at the makeup stations. A disgustingly familiar hood sat in front of a mirror, facing forward as if observing itself. The figure’s hands lifted and the hood was pushed back to fall limply across thin shoulders. A dark mass of braids and hair ornaments were instantly recognized from the promo image on the stage screens.

“Guys, meet Eirian Fang.”

Glinting red eyes blinked at them as the girl turned around in her chair.

Alice’s chest squeezed and she wondered how little breathing she could manage in an hour’s time before passing out.

Mally’s head canted down, casting his steely eyes in even deeper shadow as his fingers curled into claws.

Chessur’s teeth slotted together in a silent snarl, and he was glad Dinah and Nivens were keeping the party going outside.

Absolem fought to keep his expression schooled and neutral, but he couldn’t help a narrowed glare.

Thackery felt something in a dark corner of his mind twitch, and the shock of That being called to attention kept him from reacting too violently. Instead, he stepped away from Mally and to Alice’s side, keeping one eye on her and the other carefully trained on Tarrant.

The Hatter’s eyes were so molten they were nearly black with only golden flashes to speak the truth of his current state. He slowly pivoted on a heel to face the creature head-on.

“The Mad T Party’s new Jabberwock.”

Black gold met crimson. The fangs beneath the red eyes smiled.

welp. there it is. wonder if anyone would have seen that coming? I didn’t build the mystery up much, though there will definitely be a lot more in the future. I enjoy this too much, and Eirian is already a very fun OC to play with.