#everything they needed and i would let them do whatever in the basement and teleport whoever i needed to the upstairs set i made for them

[fabdante]

If you wouldn't mind what are the names of your sims you used for the challenge?

i will do you one better and i will even give you the names of the ones i have yet to post as little sneak peaks! (names also typed in alt)

[sanguine-law]

@hclysiinning | torture oh dear

Originally, all of this should've just been a trip back to the church, report on some things, check up on other things and perhaps getting one or two books that Aesop thought were useful. At first, this is what it looked like until they suddenly knocked him out. After this, everything else was in a blur. They accused him of having helped supernatural beings or even having switched sides completely. The Exorcist was confused and didn't fully understand what they meant with that. Whatever he was saying, they didn't listen and it slowly it dawned on him that this was a situation that he wasn't going to make it out alive anymore. Anyone else would've begged for their life if they were in his position, but not him. He silently took each hit, each kick, each injury they caused. ( It was almost like back then... but he knew this was way worse. ) Fighting back never had been an option, at least in his eyes. They had thrown him into a room down somewhere in the basement. It was dark and cold. The red and blue clothes had been replaced with rags and several bruises and cuts were on his skin. If he could, he would've at least sat up, but any move he made, hurt. The Exorcist didn't need to check. He knew that he had several broken bones, so there was not much he could do and just lay there, slowly awaiting his end. ( He had never thought that this was the way things were going to end.) There was something, however. A noise coming from down the hallway and the Exorcist expected the worst, thinking that they were going to cause more harm, so he closed his eyes, ready to accept his fate. But it never happened. Instead, he heard a familiar voice, causing him to open his eyes again and look up at the person as best as he could. The familiar face of the judge came into view and he wondered, if this was even real anymore. He couldn't quite make out the words the other spoke, so he just stared. No hunt had left him like this, ever. He had often returned with bruises and wounds, yet nothing had ever ended with him this close to death. When the other came closer, Aesop just gave him a weak smile. " I..... hear my mother calling...... " The words were barely above a whisper. "Are..... you bringing..... me to her?..... "

Joseph had been a careful person for quite some time. When Aesop had said he intended to go back to the church, Joseph had made an excuse to take a trip to the same country and tag along with him for most of the journey. And when they'd separated, he'd discretely sent a few "bats" to station themselves around the church. After all, Aesop had been gone for some time.

Who knew what that church of his might think?

So while he'd been in another city helping a few lawyers, he'd been alerted to Aesop's return to the church. And he'd heard the vile words tossed his way.

And Joseph knew first hand how people dealt with such traitors.

But he couldn't just teleport there. It would be too fast and suspicious. So he asked the witnesses around him about the little exorcist. And when one of them did mention they'd heard of his "treason", Joseph used faux anger as an excuse to leave and head for the church.

When he arrived at the church the next day, he used the same faux anger at a traitor infiltrating the town of one of God's messengers to convince the church staff to let him visit the poor Exorcist. And then they brought him to the poor, broken man.

Aesop was barely recognizable. His face was covered in bruises, and it looked like he had cuts as well. Some of his hair had been ripped, or maybe cut. His clothes were rags that hid little of the abuse he'd suffered. His body was bruised everywhere, with cuts and dents, and it looked like they had whipped him as well. His limbs were clearly broken, or at least sprained.

And as expected, blood had started pooling under the exorcist.

Joseph waved off the people who had guided him. "This will be between him, myself, and God." Joseph stepped in as the others left.

And once they were gone, he walked over and knelt beside Aesop. He pulled out his ankh of healing bracelet, took one of Aesop's damaged hands, and slipped it around the man's wrist. "This will heal your body and blood over time." He pulled out another bracelet with a charm that resembled a mushroom. As he slipped that too over Aesop's hand, "This will prevent infection."

Assuming Aesop wasn't infected with something already.

Joseph then fished a stone out of his pocket. It was a thin piece of bedrock, flatten and smoothed to resemble an egg. Ordinarily, such rocks did nothing, but Joseph had enchanted this particular stone with spells to refine healing magic. To heal open wounds, set bones, clean up bruises, reattach ligaments, sew up sprains. And in a combination that worked.

"You aren't seeing your mother just yet," he whispered as he placed a hand on Aesop's side. "But this is going to hurt." After all... he would be setting a lot of bones.

Joseph then closed his eyes and focused. He was never very good at healing past scabbing wounds and fixing blood loss. But with an enchanted item, and access to his holy magic, he could at least become a decent "white mage".

He started funneling bits of holy magic through the spells, and fed it through Aesop's body. First concern was to search for any internal bleeding and reverse the damage done to the blood vessels. Then to clean up any blood pooling inside.

And immediately after would be to start setting his bones. Snap all the pieces into place and "glue" then together with magic. Hopefully Aesop wouldn't scream too much; while those outside may think the man was being tortured, Joseph would know it was from healing. And he wouldn't be able to focus as easily if he were to start crying from hearing Aesop of all people scream in pain.

[justanotherteentitansblog]

Bbrae Week 21 Day 6 Fantasy

The sky had turned twilight orange and blue and the air was cool and crisp. The brave knight known only as Mavis the Formidable had just taken off her armor after a long battle with the dreaded 3 headed tiger, Cereberus. The knight needed rest for tomorrow was another day of full of many battles to be fought and only she was strong enough to keep her kingdom safe- 

“Mavis!” the girl’s emerald-skinned older sister had popped her head into her room, “Mom says she wants you to…. What are you doing?” 

The purple-haired 4 year old was balanced precariously on the top of her headboard facing the window. A blue towel was tied around her shoulders and her fists were confidently placed at her hips. 

Mavis narrowed her eyes at her older sister, “I’m playing knights,Phoenix. Duh!” she said, sticking her tongue out at her. 

The 10 year old nodded her head at her sister’s antics “Right...anyway mom wanted me to come get you to see--” 

Mavis jumped off the bed and ran towards her sister, arms waving in excitement as she interrupted her, “Wait, wait, you can be the wizard who helps me fight Cereberus the 3 headed Tiger! Come on, put this on,'' She shouted running to grab one of her mother’s old cloaks she let her use to play pretend. 

“OK, A, I’m telling mom you’re fighting the cat again.” 

“NNNOOOo!” Mavis whined. 

“And B, why would I be the wizard when you’re the one with psychic powers?” 

“BeCAUSE, Phoenix! I have the magical sword!” Mavis spit, pulling a stick she found from the backyard behind her back. In a flash, Phoenix’s hand whipped out towards the stick and snatched it from her younger sister. “Now ya don’t,”  she teased, morphing into a puppy and running down the stairs with the stick in her mouth. 

Mavis screeched and launched herself down the stairs after her sister. “Giveitbackgiveitbackgiveitback!” 

When Phoenix reached the bottom of the stairs, a tall green man snatched up the green puppy from the ground mid-run and ripped the stick from her mouth. The guilty changeling morphed back into a 10 year old in her father's arms and gave him a look that would melt anyone else’s heart on contact. Garfield rolled his eyes at his daughter. 

“You can’t get me with the puppy dog eyes, Phoenix. I invented them.” 

At that moment, Mavis had arrived at the bottom of the stairs where her father stood holding her older sister by the waist in one arm and the stick in his left hand. The impatient girl started jumping up and down at the stick just slightly out of her reach. 

“Dad! Dad! My Sword!” 

Gar looked at this hand and then at his child and a slow smile crept over his face. 

“Ah Mavis the Formidable, I believe this belongs to you,” he said, handing her the stick. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” turning to stick her tongue out at Phoenix. 

Just then, the girls’ mother came up from the stairs to the basement with a sour look on her face as she approached her children. 

“Mavis, would you like to explain why I just had to untie the cat from the radiator in the basement?” 

She turned to Phoenix, “Or would you like to explain why I asked you to see if your sister wanted to go to the tower with you and Dad, and I instead hear her screaming at the top of her lungs? Should I even mention the fact that I specifically told you no morphing in the house, and you, no sticks longer than your arm in the house.” She scolded both of her children with equal intensity. 

Gar looked at his wife, “You told her no sticks?” 

“Only her arm’s length-long, after what happened this morning.” Raven said, pulling her hair up to show her husband the welt on the back of her neck. Mavis had been practicing wielding her “Sword” while Raven was trying to fold laundry that morning. 

“Well that’s an easy fix” he said, pulling the stick back out of Mavis’s hand and snapping it in half, making it an arms length. 

“MY SWORD!” the girl wailed. 

Gar stared at Mavis in the eyes and warned, “You could have no sword at all. Now the both of you need to apologize to your mother!” 

Both girls sighed, and rolled their eyes, “Sorry Mom,” they said in unison. 

Raven sighed and recollected herself. Other than poor Cerberus getting tortured, most of what they were doing was not a big deal, but Raven would have to have ANOTHER talk with Mavis about including live animals into her pretend games. 

Raven looked at her girls. Phoenix who was green and lanky like her father but otherwise had her mother’s face. She had thick green hair that was always pulled into a ponytail with a heavy bang that covered the matching chakra she shared with her mother. While Mavis had her pale skin and wild purple hair that stuck out all over the place complete with her father’s smile and ears. They were going to be the absolute death of her. 

Raven pinched the bridge of her nose and looked at her younger daughter. “Phoenix is going to the tower to train with Dad. Do you want to come with them or stay at home?”  

Mavis wrinkled her nose in thought, “Will Mar’i be at the tower?” 

“ I don’t know, I can find out and if not we can see about going to Aunt Kori’s if you don’t want to go to the tower.”

“OK! I just want to play with Mar’i” 

Raven went to make the phone call, while Gar rushed Phoenix upstairs to get dressed for training exercises. Mavis the Formidable, however, had decided it was time to visit the Witches' Den. It was time to make potions. 

Mavis the Formidable had visited the Witches’ Den many a time to create potions to take on her amazing quests, but everytime she had gotten found herself caught and placed onto the chair of eternity. The witch in charge of the den had warned Mavis that the items in this room were not to be trifled with, but Mavis knew she was a strong warrior and wise enough to correctly use any potion within these ancient walls all on her own. Mavis reached up to grab a glass bottle with pink sand and--

“If you touch that, you can forget about going to see Aunt Kori and Mar’i.” 

Mavis wilted as her mother approached her. She never let her play in the meditation room and everything in there looked so cool! 

“But MOM, I need to make potions or I can’t fight the dragons!” 

Raven sighed but then smirked at her daughter's active imagination. 

“Oh well why didn’t you just say so, Mavis the Formidable.” 

Raven grabbed an empty orb shaped bottle and poured a clear liquid from another bottle inside, the pink sand Mavis had originally reached for, three small black stones and a powder that made it shimmer when it was shaken.

“There, one dragon slaying potion. Don’t drop it”  she said with a wink. 

“Thank you, kind witch” she said, giving her mom a hug. 

Raven narrowed her eyes at her daughter, “You’re pushing it.” 

Mavis quickly corrected herself, “Thank you, Mommy.” 

“Mmhhmm, you wanna go to Aunt Kori’s then?” 

“Can we teleport there?” Mavis begged. 

“Mavis, the last time we teleported anywhere you wouldn’t stop crying for half an hour and wouldn’t sleep in your own bed for a week.” 

Mavis crossed her arms and began pouting “Well you wouldn’t turn on the light inside the portal” 

“Mavis, for the last time, there is no light inside mommy’s magic, it’s all--I’m not having this argument again. If you want to go, get your shoes on, we’re driving there.” 

Mavis pouted for a moment and then looked up at her mother through her eyelashes. 

“Can I wear my rain boots?” 

“If you dress yourself, you are welcome to wear whatever you want.” 

“OK!” Mavis shouted, bolting up the stairs, dragon potion in hand. 

Upon arriving at Kori’s, Mavis impatiently unbuckled herself from the carseat and began whining as her mother was taking too long to help her out of the seat. 

“Hold on, Mavis, let me get my bearings,” she said as she helped the girl out of the car. 

Kori was standing by the front door waving them in when Mavis went racing past her into the house, “HiAuntKoribyeAuntKori!” she shouted behind her. 

Kori chuckled at the sight while Raven rolled her eyes in exasperation. 

“Awesome manners, kid. You’d think nobody taught you them.” She deadpanned in the direction her child ran. 

Kori shook her head in bemusement, “How do you keep up with that one?” 

Raven scoffed, “You think I keep up with her?” 

Mavis tore through the house looking for her friend, finally she spotted Mar’i through the sliding glass door to the backyard, swinging on a rope swing. Mavis attempted to move the door but it was locked. She pushed and pulled and scrambled up hanging on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Slowly, Raven came walking behind her child and quietly unlocked the door while Mavis was still hanging onto the handle. At the first sign of her new found freedom, Mavis threw open the glass door and raced across the patio to her friend. 

Upon seeing Mavis, Mar’i jumped off the swing and ran to meet her. They two girls embraced each other tightly until Mar’i tackled them both to the ground, causing both girls to start giggling. 

Raven and Kori walked out to the patio to halfway supervise the girls but mostly to catch up and chat. 

Before the girls could get up and start playing, Raven called out a warning, “If you get hurt doing something stupid or something you’re not supposed to do, I’m not using any healing powers on either of you.” 

Mavis rolled her eyes at her mother while Mar’i simply nodded in agreement. “OK!” 

Mavis turned to Mar’i excitement coloring her face, “Mar’i guess what I have?” she asked, holding the bottle her mother gave her behind her back. 

“What? What is it?” 

Mavis proudly showed off the potion her mother made, “It’s dragon slaying poison, do you wanna fight the dragon with me?” 

Mar’i looked into the bottle's contents and swirled it around. “Are you sure, this is dragon poison? It looks like water and pink sand.” 

“Of course it’s dragon poison! My mom made it and my mom makes all kinds of stuff like this!” 

Mar’i shrugged her shoulders, “OK, can I be the princess this time?” 

“Sure!” Mavis shrugged back and went to find a new sword stick. 

After finding a stick much longer than her arm, getting scolded by her mother, and then finding a much smaller stick, the heroes set off on their adventure. 

The two adventurers had set off on a most gruesome task. A great dragon had taken over the nearby village and stolen all their resources. The village's only hope was now Mavis the Formidable and Princess Mar’i. Mavis only armed with her sword and her dragon slaying potion, and Mar’i with her flight and starbo--

“Hey wait a minute, why do you get to use your powers?! Mom, why does Mar’i get to use her powers?” She shouted running towards her mother. 

“Mar’i’s powers work differently than yours do, she can use hers without hurting anyone, which is something you can’t quite do yet.” 

Mavis stomped her foot and tears formed in her eyes,”That’s not fair, I want these off.” She shoved the silver cuffs that contained her power in Raven’s face.

Raven put a calm hand to her daughter’s hands and lowered them away from her face, “Your sister had to wear them until she was 6, and even then she only had them off for a few hours at a time. I’m sorry Mavis, but they’re there to keep you and everyone else safe.” This was a very rehearsed and familiar conversation Raven had practiced from years of dealing with the subject with Phoenix, who beforehand would turn into any animal she thought of with no control over it at all. 

It was very clear to everyone that Mavis was about to have a meltdown before Mar’i interrupted, “That’s ok! I just won’t use my powers!” 

Mavis sniffed, “Really?” 

“Yeah of course! I might fly on accident though, cause when I’m really happy, I fly.” 

Mavis rubbed her eyes, “That’s OK, you can fly us to the dragon!” Mavis was already picking the game back up where they had left off. 

“Oooh Yeah!” Mar’i agreed, floating a few feet in the air and reaching for Mavis’s hands. 

Raven stiffened, and Kori gave a warning, “No higher than the bottom of the tree branches, Mar’i and don’t drop her.” Mar’i nodded in agreement and Raven relaxed a little, since Mavis could definitely survive that fall if Mar’i did drop her. 

As the two young warriors flew off on their great quest, they came to a great mountain, complete with a rickety bridge that led to a separate deeply sloping mountain. Mavis the Formidable, was first to climb the great mountain with ease as she held within her tiny body the strength of a thousand suns, but as Mar’i attempted to climb the mountain she had lost her footing and the warrior princess began to slip. “Mavis!” She yelled to the knight in front of her. Mavis had reached the top of the mountain and turned to her companion. “Mar’i!” the brave warrior shouted from several miles above her. 

“I’m slipping, I can’t hold on!” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” Mavis yelled from the top of the mountain throwing the princess a long rope to help her climb to the top. 

Mavis’s blue towel that was previously wrapped around her shoulders smacked Mar’i in the face and she fell backwards off the playset. Mar’i lay flat on the ground looking up at Mavis with rage in her eyes, “Ow! Mavis!” 

Mavis started waving her arms around excitedly, “I'm so sorry, are you ok?” 

Just then Kori and Raven ran over to see if Mar’i was ok. After a quick but thorough inspection, it was deemed that Mar’i was ok, just irritated. Raven shot Mavis an irritated look, “Mavis what possessed you throw the towel on Mar’i’s face?” 

“No, mom, listen, I didn’t throw it at her, she was slipping off the mountain and I was trying to save her!” 

Raven smacked a hand to her face, she was getting really sick of the knights game. “Ok new rule, you’re not climbing anything together!” 

Mavis and Mar’i sighed knowing this part of their game was now over. The two mothers walked away leaving the girls to play together once again. 

Mavis approached Mar’i but the other girl pouted and crossed her arms at her friend. 

Mavis pleaded at her raven haired friend, “I really didn’t mean to, I promise!” 

“Hmpf!” Mar’i huffed and turned away from the mini empath, “I don’t want to play with you anymore!” 

Mavis’s eyes started to well up with tears at the rejection of her best friend until suddenly inspiration struck her.

“WAIT!” she shouted, taking the towel off her shoulders, “You can have my cape if you’ll be my best friend again.” 

Mar’i straightened up in shock, “Really?” 

“Uh-huh! Will you still be my friend?” Mavis implored her friend. 

“Of course!” Mar’i said, standing up and putting the towel over her own shoulders. 

Mavis breathed a sigh of relief as she stood with her friend and continued their game. 

Beneath the mountain where the heroes had fallen they discovered a vast cave ripe for exploring. The cave was cold and dark, they had made an attempt at a fire to warm themselves up, but the cold winds within the cave kept blowing it out like a birthday candle. Mavis could make out ancient runes inscribed in the cave’s walls that quickly lead the two to the innermost part of the cave. 

It wasn’t too long until the adventurers heard heavy breathing in the darkness that didn’t belong to either of the pair. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, the girls screeched in terror. 

Looking at them were several jackalopes, with their teeth bared and ready to attack the young girls. Mar’i attempted to run to the safety of the queen but Mavis the Formidable, knew exactly what to… 

Kori looked up from the conversation she was having with Raven when she heard Mavis scream what could only be described as a warrior cry. “Raven...I don’t mean to alarm you but, your daughter is running and screaming manically with 3 baby bunnies in her arms.” 

Raven took a deep shaky breath and closed her eyes, trying to find a state of calm. After several attempts to find a meditative state, a nearby bird's nest exploded as Raven finally lost her patience, “MAVIS ANGELA LOGAN! DROP THE BUNNIES!” 

Mavis, the formidable once again found herself caught within the grasp of the evil witch and her chair of eternity. Days stretched into years and years stretched into decades as the adventurer found herself bound to the evil throne. 

No amount of pleading and bargaining with the cruel witch would change her mind as the warrior was only met with hushes and dark glares that she learned in witch language meant “shut up”. Just when Mavis thought she would be left to perish cold and alone in the chair of eternity a glorious sound parted the clouds and rang through the heavens. 

Beep, Beep, Beep. The timer on Raven’s phone went off signaling to Mavis that her timeout was over. Mavis eagerly lept from the chair but Raven stopped her before she could run back into the backyard. “Uh-uh, you’re not getting away that easily!” 

Mavis wilted and shuffled back over to her mother to get a talking to. Just as Raven was about to start scolding Mavis, the sliding glass door opened and out stepped Phoenix, Garfield and Dick. 

Garfield knew his youngest daughter like the back of his hand and knew what the look on her face meant. “Oh no, what did you do this time?” he asked Mavis casually. 

Raven narrowed her eyes at Mavis while speaking to her husband, “Your daughter is trying to catch wild animals to play with them again.” 

“How come she’s always my daughter when she’s in trouble?” The changeling asked. 

“Because Phoenix is my daughter when she’s in trouble, this was our agreement, I get the mean one and you get the feral one.” 

“Right, I forgot about that. You want me to handle this one?” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

With that, Raven turned to her older daughter to get the details of how her training went, while Garfield crouched down to his youngest daughter. 

“Are you out here driving your mother crazy?” 

Mavis cracked a small smile. 

“It’s not funny, Mavis,” he warned. 

“Well I was just trying to play with Mari and we were playing knights and we wanted to go on a quest to find the dragon but mom won’t let me use my powers or a sword or chase jackalopes and then I accidently hurt Mar’i with a towel but I was just trying to save her from falling off a mountain and-” 

Gar threw up his hand to silence his child’s rambling. “What’s this about a dragon?” 

Raven side eyed her husband and smirked knowing where he was going with this by the tone of his voice. 

Mavis continued on, “There’s a dragon, and it’s attacking the whole village and-” 

Gar cut her off again and began inching towards Raven. “I see, Mavis, does the dragon look anything like this?” he questioned as he threw his wife over his shoulder, morphed into a pterodactyl and flew several feet in the air with Raven on his back. 

Raven no longer found her husband's antics amusing as she desperately clung to his neck to avoid a sudden drop. “GARFIELD MARK LOGAN YOU BETTER NOT DROP ME I SWEAR TO GOD!” 

Mavis the Formidable was finally face to face with her enemy the dragon and he had captured the witch. Normally this would’ve been something to celebrate, but the witch was sometimes nice. She was the best at reading bedtime stories and always had really good snacks, so Mavis couldn’t let her get eaten by the dragon yet. 

Mavis wielded her arm-sized sword and began to swing at the dreaded dragon. The dragon flew close to the ground but continued to dodge Mavis’s attacks with ease. All seemed hopeless until Mavis remembered the dragon slaying potion the witch had made for her. Mavis pulled the bottle out of her back pocket, popped the cork, tilted her head back and chugged the potion. 

Raven’s eyes went wide as she watched her child attempt to chug what was essentially salt water and fall to her hands and knees, gagging. Raven stifled a chuckle until she burst out into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re not supposed to drink it you dork, you’re supposed to throw it at the dragon!” she said through fits of laughter. 

Gar quickly morphed back into his human form also laughing and let Raven get down off of his back. 

“Are you going to be ok?” he asked, trying to stifle his own laughter. 

“That was so yucky” she managed to cough out and dramatically pretended to die. 

By this point, she had everyone in the backyard laughing including herself. Gar went over to pick the child up, when suddenly her eyes shot open and she shoved the stick between his arm and chest. Gar immediately went along with the game. “AAHHHHH YOU KILLED ME” He screamed, falling to the ground next to Mavis. 

Raven walked over to the two impressed, “That was pretty clever Mavis the Formidable. You wanna go get some water to wash out that potion taste?” 

“And a snack?” 

“Sure Mavis, and a snack” 

THE END. 

[revengeoftheantichrist]

Red Flags

Warnings: Serial killers, breaking and entering, torture, manipulation and broken bones AN: Huge thank you to @9layerdevilfoodcake and the lovely Carissa for bouncing some ideas and beta reading this while I was struggling!

AO3

Michael had enough. He was tired and hungry, getting nothing more than delirious in this forest. He stood on shaky legs, not caring about the blood of the goat he just killed. He didn’t know where he was going, just letting his feet carry him to wherever they pleased. He no longer cared about the destination. His surroundings faded into nothingness, until a familiar white-picket fence came into view. He finally focused on his surroundings, immediately starting to sob when he recognised where he was. His childhood home, his grandmother’s house. His body must have craved the familiarity and the warm embrace that only she could provide. But like every other mother figure in his life, she was dead, and he blamed himself. With bleary eyes he pushed open the squeaky gate. The smell of roses made the memories rapidly flash through his mind. With a deep breath, he opened the door.

The house had been untouched for years. Dust and cobwebs everywhere. He thought of his grandmother watching the house fall into this state of decay. Watching.

He felt the eyes of the house next door on him. He refused to look out the window. He didn’t want to see the looks of disgust and pity. He wiped his eyes and stood a little straighter. This was his house now. He could do whatever he wanted here. No one to answer to, no more deadlines and most of all, no more older blonde woman dictating his life. ////

He stared at himself in the mirror. The stubble and lack of sleep seemed to age him. His hair was no longer perfectly styled, it was wild and uneven. The more he looked at himself the more his face began to morph into the women in his life. He hated it. He didn’t want to look like the woman that threw him out at his lowest. Or the woman who, even in her death, could not accept him as hers. He carried the ghosts of next door with him, and he’d do anything to alleviate himself of that burden. He could only change his appearance for so long. Hair dye would eventually fade; contacts would need to be removed and he wasn’t willing to put himself under the knife.

The smell of blood on his clothes pulled him out of his thoughts. The mirror reflected the decrepit house he was in, turning his nose in disgust. With the last of his strength, he mustered a tiny bit of magic, using a spell to clean the house. He walked through the house as it returned to it’s former glory, remembering his own attempts at interior design when he was younger, looking up the beams and archways where he would nail his ‘gifts’ to his grandmother. Times were simpler then. He shook his head of the nostalgia, hoping the plumbing was still working; he needed a nice hot shower.

//// None of the clothes in the closet fit him anymore, he didn’t realise how much he had grown. For now, a towel was the best he could do until his other clothes were out the dryer. He spent his time scouring the house for legal documents, anything that entitled him to some money and the deeds of the house. He needed to get this all under his name, just in case his grandmother used that stupid medium to undermine him. He tugged open the last drawer. Bingo. Everything he needed conveniently placed in one place. Money, a will and the deeds of the house. He would need to go to whatever legal office to get it sorted. The dryer still had time to go. With a big sigh, he sat on the couch. The one that faced the ‘other’ house. He gave a smile to those still watching him. He must have looked demented by the reactions he got from them. The exhaustion and hunger were catching up to him, succumbing to sleep on the couch.

////

It was morning when he woke up. He let his towel fall with a big stretch. Thus was his house; he could do anything. Even walking around naked. He kept the blinds and curtains that faced that house open. Let them watch. He pulled his warm clothes on. The detergent brought back memories, he’d buy a new scent when the time came. He grabbed some cash and whatever documents he needed for the day, venturing out into the big bad world.

////

Humanity deserved to perish simply for the time it took at the bank. The manger was an old lady, greying blonde hair and a pair of ill-fitting glasses. Michael thought she was extremely rude and didn’t hide his distaste when he spoke to her. She asked far too many questions for such a simple procedure. “Young man, aren’t you far too young to be accessing these funds?” she asked, looking over her glasses. “I can’t control when my entire family dies now can I,” he spat back, sick of her already. She continued to look him up and down as she typed away. Printing something off, she slipped a booklet of paperwork to him. “Everything has been approved, your card should arrive in the next few days. Can I do anything else for you?” “I’d like to take out some cash.” “How much?” “$500.” She paused, “what are you planning on doing with that?” Michael was getting beyond irritated, his jaw clenched, and he rubbed his temples. “There’s no need to be so rude young man,” she huffed. Michael gave her a sarcastic smile before snatching the money and walking out of the bank. The world would be better off without her. He’d deal with her soon. ////

Michael returned home with numerous bags of clothing and food. He would learn how to cook for himself, takeout was not sustainable. The pantry was stocked with basic essentials, but most of it was stocked with candy and other snacks. No one could stop him from indulging in his gluttony now.

His wardrobe was full of blacks and reds, the perfect colours for him. He was most looking forward to the black jumpsuit. It stood out to him in the store, a style he had never tried before. His fingers drifted over the seams when he tried it on, turning and admiring the various angles in the mirror. He looked up to the clock through the mirror, it was almost 5pm, if he didn’t leave now, he would miss her leaving. ////

Michael waited for the old bank manager to leave. Biding his time in the shadows. He watched her as she said her goodbyes in her shrill voice, then as she walked to her car. Michael stalked behind her, waiting for her to get in. As she got comfortable, she dropped something by her foot pedals. When she reached down to grab it, Michael took the opportunity to get in the car and lock the doors. He smiled at her when she screamed. The parking lot was empty, no one would hear her. “Shhh,” Michael put a finger to his lips, the other hand held up a gun. It was one of Constance’s that she had hidden in the house. The woman suddenly stopped, her shaking hands on the wheel. “You’re going to drive, and I’m going to give you directions,” he said, his tone left no space to argue. She nodded, tears in her eyes, hoping he would let her go eventually.

////

They pulled up outside the murder house. Michael got out first, taking the keys from the ignition. The woman stayed in the car, still shaking. She wasn’t given much time to think, Michael dragged her out of the car and up the steps, his hand over her mouth. Her legs flailed around, heels falling off and feet dragging on the ground. Sill, Michael paid her no mind, not even as she thumped down the stairs when he threw her into the basement.

He felt eyes on him again as he went into the kitchen, looking for something sharp. When he got to the basement door, it was blocked by none other than Dr. Harmon himself. “You don’t have to do this kind, you know you’re better than this,” he tried to convince Michael. “You didn’t have to cheat on your wife, now here we all are, miserable in the same fucking house,” Michael spat back. “He didn’t give Harmon a chance to respond, teleporting into the basement where the woman cowered in the corner.

“Please, I’m sorry if I did something, there’s other ways to solve this,” she cried. “I need to get home to my grandkids,” she tried to appeal to his softer side. He continued to stalk towards her, ignoring her and inspecting the sharp knife. “You’re far too old to still be this rude. I think that it’s a habit that can’t be solved anymore,” Michael replied, sounding disappointed. The woman couldn’t back away any further, stuck to the wall. Michael got down to her level, wiping away her tears. “You have grandkids?” She rapidly nodded, hoping he changed his mind. “I had a grandma too. Looked just like you,” he took a blonde hair and sniffed it, it didn’t smell like her. “At least she had basic manners. And, she wouldn’t be caught dead in this hideous number,” he pointed out. He had to give Constance credit where it was due. “Do you want to know what happened to my grandma?” he whispered in her ear. She was too shaky to respond. “I killed her too,” he whispered again, this time his voice cracked a little; remembering the day he found her dead in this very house. Even if she was a ghost, she could have at least spared him a hug. His eyes began to well up. The woman took this as an opportunity to reach out, placing her hand on her face. He snapped back to her, taking her hand in his. “But no one can ever replace her,” his voice still shaking. He felt like a little boy again. He could feel the pity from the woman. She wasn’t scared of him anymore and he didn’t like that. He was no longer a child. He had a greater purpose. Without hesitation, Michael sliced her throat, letting himself be covered in her blood. He looked at his reflection in the knife. Maybe this was the look for him, covered in blood. He licked his fingers, tasting the liquid. “I’ll save the heart for later,” he thought to himself, before ripping it out and making use of one of the fridges. This was one way to pass the time and maybe, it would finally get his father’s attention. //// A car was found on a random highway. In it was the mangled corpse of the owner, and a simple letter signed by ‘the Alpha’. This marked the beginning of a new wave of violence in southern California. A serial killer was on the prowl. The victim profile was quite strange. Typically, killers would choose young women. However, this killer liked older blonde women, usually grandmothers or mothers. It scared you regardless, worried that one day the preference might change. You worried for your co-workers too, many of them fitting the description. The thought that you might have even interacted with the culprit made your skin crawl. ////

Things would inevitably go wrong if one were fuelled by bloodlust alone. Michael had broken into the wrong house. The woman that pissed him off at the supermarket lived a few doors down. Regardless, he was curious as to who lived here. The home was so different to what he was used to. The interior design choices were not the standard ‘live, laugh, love’ and farmhouse kitchen with seashell bathrooms. This house was nice, it had a younger feel to it, the heels by the door further proof of his theory. He quietly made his way up the stairs, looking into every room and taking it all in. He finally found the occupied room. The dark-haired woman was fast asleep in her bed. Comfortably sank into her pillows. He adjusted the blinds a little so he could see better. The way the moonlight reflected off her face took his breath away. His fingers twitched, he wanted to take her home this instant. He could take care of her, he knew he could. He liked a challenge however, he wanted her to come to him. He didn’t know how long he stood and stared at her, only leaving once she stared to stir. He’d be back. ////

Michael’s heart was jumping out of his chest when he arrived back to the murder house. The residents were surprised he didn’t come home with another victim or even a drop of blood on him. His face was flush and he was in deep thought. Luckily for the residents, souls were not congesting the house, as Michael would make sure to burn the new souls as soon as he could. He whispered nonsense to himself as he made his way up to the attic. His trance was interrupted by his foot hitting a box. Had it always been there? He slowly took the lid off, finding an old camcorder and lots of tape. Was he living in the movie ‘sinister’? He was the scariest thing in this house, no ghoul could ever top him.

The box gave him something to do for the rest of the night. Returning with some snacks and in his pyjamas. The entertainment didn’t last long. It was just shitty home movies from former residents. It got worse when they’d come forward and explain them. He turned his face in disgust at the last one; a homemade sex tape. He gagged before turning it off. The sun was rising, telling him to go to bed. As he put the camcorder way, he had a genius idea.

////

You felt weird when you woke up. It was as if someone had been watching you. Your blinds were slightly open, and your bedroom door ajar. Had someone been in? As you walked through the house, something just seemed a little off. Things were ever so slightly out of place. There even seemed to be less fruit juice this morning than you were sure you had last night. Maybe it was the paranoia of the current situation getting to you. You sighed and shook your head before going to get ready for the day.

////

You hated working in the family and wills sector of the legal profession. You were hoping to make the move to fashion law soon, just waiting for the right opportunity. You really weren’t made for the requests of dead people and their bickering relatives.

You greeted one of the partners. Ms Grace everyone called her. She was your mento and a mother figure to you out here in the big bad legal world. Hopefully, she’d give you a good reference when you left. “New client for you today, just… entire dead family,” she whispered the last bit, making a cutting gesture with her hand. “That sounds horrible.” She nodded, before letting you set up for the day. ////

It was afternoon before said client showed up. Your office phone rang informing you of his arrival. A tall, blond man sat in the waiting room; his eyes widened in recognition when he saw you. You decided to ignore it. “Hello, are you Mr. Langdon?” “I am.” “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, in Y/N and I’ll be taking your case,” you held your hand out for him to shake. It was comfortably warm. “Please, call me Michael.” You nodded and smiled, before leading him to your office. “Any refreshments before we get started?” He shook his head. From the outside, his case looked simple However, the deaths in his family left a convoluted mess, but you were sure Mr Langdon would get what he wanted. He was the only legal and living heir after all. You chatted away as you printed off and filled out the relevant forms. The conversation came easy. It had been a while since someone had caused butterflies in your stomach.   You weren’t unprofessional however, keeping it professional with clients. When all was done for the session, you saw him out and waved him off. The interaction with him had left you a little flush. The receptionist giving you a knowing look.

////

This was totally unplanned. Michael wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. He thought that maybe his father had a hand in this, a reward for his hard work. He made his way back home, keeping the packet you gave him close, it still faintly smelled of you. He sat on the couch facing the other house. Images of you occupying his mind. It all got too much, lazily stroking himself to the thought of you that afternoon. ////

He left the house again, camcorder in hand. He pressed record as soon as he got inside your house. Filming every little detail leading up to your room. Even filming himself waving in the hallway mirror, as if he were recording and innocent home video.

He slowly opened your door. You accidently left the lamp on that night, giving him the perfect lighting. He zoomed in on your face before getting closer. Your duvet was blocking the view, reaching forward to carefully move it a little. Running his thumb over your lips and getting it on camera. He groaned at the softness. His fingers skimmed over your face, neck and collarbones. He watched as your nose crinkled a little at the touch. Cute. His evening plans were abruptly cut short when your phone began to ring. At this hour? Who was it? You began to stir at the invasive sound. Michael didn’t have time to run, transmuting out the house as fast as he could.

////

In his free time, Michael indulged in all that his family would disapprove of. And nothing could vex Constance Langdon more than her shitty grandson doing all types of drugs. He liked the feeling weed gave him. It helped him relax after the adrenaline rush of a kill. Sometimes, the murder house had a horrible stench of weed and rotting flesh, prompting the residents to keep the windows open. He even tried other things, like Acid and MD. He didn’t like the restlessness they gave him. He especially hated when his face would morph in the mirror, turning him into the people he hated the most. He wondered what it would be like to get high with you. He wanted to melt into you just like he did the floor when the THC finally got him. If he couldn’t get to you that night, he would replay the tapes on the big screen and jack off, wishing you were there. The residents of the house watched in disgust and horror. They may have done terrible things but surely, they weren’t this bad.

////

Mr Langdon’s case had successfully ended, he had gotten what he wanted. You bumped into him a week later, on your lunch break. “Oh? Y/N? so nice to see you,” he stood in the line at your favourite coffee shop. “Like wise,” you smiled up at him. “Would you like anything? I insist. It’s the least I can do.” You tried to reject his kindness but didn’t want to hold up the line, giving him your order. You both sat at a quiet table, waiting for your drinks and pastry. “I don’t usually see my clients on lunch breaks.” “Former client,” he pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. You watched him add five packets of sugar and wondered why he didn’t just get a sweeter drink. Your conversation continued, with your shoes constantly touching under the table. It felt very childish, but maybe you were missing the playfulness in life. Your phone alarm went off, indicating you had to get back to work. As your phone was unlocked, Michael took it and tapped his number in, leaving you at the table with a wink.

////

These interactions led to casual dates. The murders began to slow down, making you feel a little safer. With this in mind, you accepted Michael’s invitation when he invited you over. You were nervous as you waited for him to open the door. The evening breeze did little to distract you from the feeling of being watched. Michael opened the door and you sighed in relief. “You look… beautiful,” he stuttered. “Not too bad yourself,” you smiled back.

He moved aside to let you in, leading you to where he had set up. “I didn’t know you could cook.” “I’m a man of many talents.” He looked out the window, making sure the other house was watching. They looked nervous, hoping you would leave in one piece. They watched you laugh and talk. This could not have been the same boy that had terrorised so many. He was confident, suave, and personable. Worlds away from the awkward, nervous cry baby of a serial killer that they had become used to. He cleaned up well, even tidying up his wild hair. They wondered how long it would last. How long would it take for you to see the real him? They hoped you got out before it got to that state. The time flew by, and you both seemed to get closer by the second. You didn’t notice until your noses were touching, conversation halting. He seemed to be waiting for something, almost hesitant. You took the initiative and captured his lips. All of his hesitation melted away, his hand reaching around you and pulling you closer. The kiss got more heated, indicating that it would lead to something else. However, luck was not on your side. You phone ringing and interrupting you. Michael wanted to smash that phone; this was the second time it had stopped him. You apologised before picking up. Michael watched your expression change and brows knit in annoyance. You put the phone down, apologising. “I’m so sorry Michael, but I’m going to have to go, I’ve been called into work tomorrow and this is an important client, I hope you can understand.” “Of course, I’m sure you’re busy and I won’t keep you. Do you want me to drop you off?” He didn’t know why he asked that question, he didn’t have a car. “Oh thank you so much for understanding, and the offer. I drove here myself so there’s no need to worry about that,” you smiled at him. Michael helped you with your belongings, leading you out the door. You turned to thank him again, before he leaned down to give you another kiss, causing you to blush. He walked you to your car, taking in the interior. He waved you off with a smile. He knew you’d be back soon. ////

Michael shut the door behind him. He thought the night was a success. He opened the cupboard and pulled out your jacket. He hid it away, so you’d forget about it. The designer logo stood out to him. He buried his face in the fur, taking in all of it. Your scent, your warmth, everything. He had been so close to you. He wanted to watch the tapes with this in hand, for that he would have to venture next door. He wasn’t prepared to finally come face to face with his grandmother, looking down on him, cigarette in hand. “Michael fucking Langdon,” her southern drawl was harsh. He hadn’t been spoken to like that in years. He gulped as he watched her slowly walk down the stairs. “Why haven’t you grown out of that terrible habit of yours. You just have to destroy pretty things.” She stopped at the step just above him, still looking down. She gently stroked his face like she used to when he was a child, and he leaned into the touch. The peace was disturbed by a loud slap echoing through the house. Michael’s face turned to the side. He held his cheek, slowly turning to the woman with bleary eyes. “You have some nerve coming back to this house with that attitude of yours, clearly the ‘Church’ didn’t teach you any manners” Michael was trying to find his voice, to finally face the woman that he blamed for half of his problems. “And now look at you, that poor girl doesn’t even know the half of it.” She snatched the coat away from him. “Look at this Michael, this is Prada. And did you see the car she drove? What makes you think you deserve her? Look at yourself,” she gestured towards him. “Hair unkempt, Jobless, all you eat is candy and human flesh. What are you going to when she finds out the truth?” Michael hadn’t actually thought about that. He had neglected himself and his appearance for a while now. Did it really matter that much?

////

“Look, Y/N, all I’m saying is that you can do better. Look at you, you’re beautiful and well dressed and have such a good job. And him, well… he’s a little scruffy and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even have a car,” Ms Grace did not approve of your relationship with Michael. She thought you could do better. “I see where you’re coming from but he’s charming. Although I do agree he could clean up a little better. I’ve seen him all dressed up and he looks so good. I just don’t understand why he chooses to look like… that most of the time,” the last bit was more meant for yourself. Your conversation was interrupted by Kevin, a colleague from another office. “He should take a page out of Kevin’s book,” Ms Grace pointed out. Kevin raised a brow at the conversation he had just become a part of. He too was on a lawyer salary, a well-dressed man that anyone would swoon for. “Who’s ‘he’?” “Y/Ns …. Boyfriend?” Ms Grace replied. “Nothing to concern yourself too much with Kevin, you know what Ms Grace is like,” you interjected. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. He must be something to reach those high standards of yours,” he pointed out. “Oh he’s something alright,” Ms Grace muttered. You huffed at the conversation. You didn’t think you were a superficial person, but your colleagues thought otherwise. //// Michael had heard enough. Sometimes he would scry into your workplace, just to check on you, to see if you thought of him as much as he did. The conversation reinforced Constance’s criticisms from the other day. He hadn’t felt this self-conscious in a while. He was not one to idle, immediately finding a hair stylist with an availability. He wanted a transformation that would floor you. With that in mind, he headed to ‘Gallants’. //// The hairstylist was truly annoying, yet he seemed to have magic in his hands. The final reveal shocked Michael also. The confidence he had at Hawthorne seemed to return. He held his head just a little higher as he walked out. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, people stopping to stare at the angelic looking man that strutted down the street. On his way to his next destination, he stopped at the sight of a certain symbol. An inverted cross. His feet had a mind of their own, leading him inside. His scar began to tingle. The congregation turned to stare at the man that had just walked in. They knew. It had to be. The high priestess getting on her knees before him. He could get used to this. //// He reached his final destination for the day. He didn’t usually kill men, but if they got in his way, he didn’t care who he killed. He waited for Kevin to come home. He was going to kill him here. He wasn’t worth the effort of taking him all the way to the murder house. Michael didn’t even give the man a chance to scream. Getting rid of him with a snap of his fingers. //// The murder house watched Michael carefully curate his image the next few months. An entire new wardrobe, his old clothes dumped in the murder house. They watched the elaborate skincare ritual every morning. Carefully peeling away masks and applying serums. How very American Psycho of him. You loved the new look. You made sure everyone in the office new you’d made the right choice. Michael loved the new attention, but he made sure you knew he only had eyes for you. He even planned on offering you a better job in Kineros’ legal team, just so he could keep you close and get you out of the sector you complained about so often. //// A strange thing happened one night. Michael took the camcorder down into the basement with him, setting the lens to record his newest victim. After he was done, he burned the footage onto a disk. What was he up to? //// You were on autopilot as you opened your door. You felt numb. Ms Grace had become another victim to ‘the Alpha’ along with one of your neighbours. You spent the entire day in police interviews, trying to make sense on the situation. As you walked into the house, you stepped on something. A thick envelope, labelled only with your name. You picked it up with shaky hands and opened it. In it was just an unlabelled disc and a sticky note saying ‘love from the Alpha’. It made your blood run cold. This had to be a joke. Some was messing with you; it could be the only explanation. You ran to your DVD player, you had to see what was on the disc, you hoped it was some shitty quality movie ripped from the internet. The video came on, starting in a dark room. The camera turned to a woman tied up, it zoomed in on her face and you immediately recognised her as Ms Grace. Your eyes widened and you felt ill, running to the bathroom to be sick. It was still playing when you came back, changing to a different video. It was dark again but it all seemed so familiar. The camera panned up and you gasped, your hands covering your face. It was a video of you, sleeping in your own home. You no longer felt safe here. You quickly took the disc out and grabbed your essentials, running to your car. As you pulled out your street, you had no idea what turn to take. Turning right would lead to the police station, you could submit the disc and ask for protection. However, they rarely did anything about stalking cases, and the disc had your finger prints all-over it. A left turn would lead to Michael. You felt safe around him and you were sure he could offer you comfort at this time. The beeping behind you made you make your decision. //// You pulled up outside Michael’s house. You rapidly knocked on the door, there was no answer. No light was on in the house. You prayed to whoever that would listen that he didn’t have any other plans for the night. As you lost hope and looked around, your eyes fell to the imposing structure next door. You remembered a conversation where he had said he was restoring the home. A light was on. With a deep breath, you ran up the steps, repeating your previous actions and hoping for a response. A shocked Michael opened the door. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest and sobbing. You didn’t notice the feral look he had going on. Hair dishevelled and blood-stained clothes. He gently put the knife down and wrapped his arms around you, cooing and shushing you. Telling you to calm down and it would all be okay. He was glad you were wearing a dark colour; you hadn’t noticed the stickiness of his hands and the stain they left. He gently moved you into the house, shutting the door. He used his magic to shut the basement door too. Your face was still buried in his arm as he walked you up the stairs. You should have paid attention to your strange surroundings. The ghosts of the house looked at you with the greatest of pity, wishing they could do something.

He sat you down on the bed, kneeling before you and taking your hands in his. “Hey, look at me. What’s going on?” he asked gently, wiping your eyes. You sniffled and calmed your breathing, trying not to freak out again as you explained the situation to him. “I… I think he’s after me,” you whispered. “Who’s ‘he?” “The Alpha, he’s after me, I know it.” Michael paused, you must have seen the DVD. He had to stop himself from laughing. “Why do you think that hmm?” his thumb stroked your cheek. “Three people I know have died and then I got this DVD in the mail,” you paused, “It… it’s a video of Ms Grace tied up and then one of me sleeping,” you began to cry again. Michael sat on the bed next to you, pulling you in for a hug, you buried your face into him again, taking in his scent and trying to calm down. “You’re the only person I feel safe around,” you mumbled. Michael smiled into your hair. He had you exactly where he wanted. ////

You decided to wash your face after you had calmed down. Wetting a towel with cold water, you placed it on your eyes in an attempt to de-puff them. The ghosts thought this was the perfect opportunity to warn you about your possible doom. Vivienne pulled open the shower curtain behind you. Revealing a bathtub full of ice and another victim placed in it. However, their plan didn’t seem to work. You didn’t even look back at the sound, having walked out the bathroom just in-time. Michael was sitting on the bad, waiting for you. He had changed into more casual clothing and was rolling a joint. “It might help you calm down,” he smiled up at you, twisting the end off. You sat back on the bed and joined him, relaxing into the headboard. The conversation was casual and mundane, something you really needed right now. Between the sound of his voice and the passing of the joint, you had no idea how much time had passed. All you knew at this moment was that you wanted to be as close to him as possible. Hands began to wander, and your lips met for a heated kiss, you ended up straddling him. You let yourself be lost in the haze, not knowing exactly when your clothes came off, just that you enjoyed the feel of his skin on yours. You lifted your hips, moving to finally having him inside you, to be as close as you could be. You waited a little, resting your forehead on his shoulder as you got used to his size and took it all in. The feeling of his hands rubbing up and down your spine was blissful. His hands finally rested on your hips, gripping them and encouraging you to finally move. You complied, taking your time. You moved away from his shoulder. He took the opportunity to leave marks all over your breasts. It just felt so good. You could feel that you wouldn’t last much longer, your movements becoming sloppier. Michael rested his hand on your throat, his face morphed into something a lot more vicious than you were used to. It must have rang some alarm bells, but you weren’t listening. His grip on your neck tightened, and his hips began to thrust up, meeting your movements. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his grip tightened once more, causing the coil in your belly to snap. Your legs shook, walls pulsing around him as he followed not long after. He pulled you into a deep kiss by your neck, slowly moving you off him and onto the bed. You lay there catching your breath, staring into his eyes. Just for that brief moment, nothing else mattered, forgetting about the serial killer that was on the hunt somewhere. You got closer to him and got comfortable, your head resting on his chest, being lulled by his heartbeat. “I was thinking,” he started. “Hmm?” you mumbled back, enjoying the vibration of his speech. “Maybe you should take a break from work for a while and stay with me for a bit, just until things calm down,” he suggested. At that moment in time, the combined high of weed and sex made it seem like a genius idea. Surely it was the most obvious solution? “Yeah it’s a good idea,” you yawned. The exhaustion caught up to you, your heavy eyes falling shut. Michael squeezed you just a little tighter and smirked up at the residents that had surrounded you. Their looks of pity towards you were something else. Michael buried his face into your hair, turning off the lights around him. It was the most blissful sleep he had had in years.

////

You woke up sometime the next afternoon. Michael was nowhere to be seen. After using (the now empty) bathroom, you ventured through the house. It looked different. It looked complete in a way. The tarp, random cans of paint and building materials that you were sure where there last night, were gone. It was as if it had been transformed overnight. The strangest thing was how familiar the décor and interior looked. It looked like a bigger version of your own home. It felt familiar yet uncomfortably so. Quite frankly, it looked like your dream home, styled as if it was going to featured in Architectural Digest. You knew it didn’t look like this last night, nothing close to it. Then you thought back to the wardrobe upstairs, the one you had sleepily pulled your current clothing out of. It was full of your own clothing. Clothing that you didn’t bring with you. Did Michael do this while you were asleep? When did he get the time? You scoured the house for your car keys and purse. Only finding pieces of familiar décor instead. Your stomach got the better of you, heading to the kitchen and hopefully finding something to eat. The pantry was stocked full of your favourites, pulling out a box of your favourite cereal. It was at this moment you were sure that all the pieces were taken from your home. One of the cereal bowls had the same chip that yours had. The nervousness and paranoia of last night began to seep back into you, your face visibly twisted in those emotions. As you mindlessly ate your cereal, the basement door creaked open. You stopped mid chew to look. You quickly swallowed and slowly walked towards it. Telling yourself that there was nothing to fear, and that you were just going to shut it. You heard a thud as you reached the door. Maybe Michael was down there and needed some help or something. You slowly walked down the steps, being careful not to make any noise. Your hand covered your mouth to stop your scream and prevent you from vomiting from the smell. The image forever burned into your memory. There was blood everywhere. Michael had his back turned to you, you were sure he hadn’t sensed your presence yet. You slowly backed away, trying to be quiet and not alert him. You let out a shaky breath when you were back in the hallway. You didn’t care about finding your things now, you had to get out of here. The front door wouldn’t budge open, the backdoor was no different. None of the window’s downstairs would open either. You then remember one of the windows was cracked open in the room you were sleeping in. You may injure yourself, but it looked like your only way out. You pushed the window up even further, making enough room for you to jump out. You hoisted one leg over the ledge, looking out for your landing spot. You prepared yourself to move the other leg, but it wouldn’t budge. You tugged at it a few times before looking back. Those blue, rage filled eyes were staring back at you, holding your leg, and preventing you from getting out. “Get. Back. In.,” he said, through clenched teeth. You shook your head, looking away from him. You didn’t want to think about who’s blood he was covered in. “Please let me go,” you whispered, hoping he’d take mercy on you somehow. His grip just got tighter. You mustered up all your strength, kicking him off you. He let go of your leg, it gave you enough time to jump. You felt the wind rush around you as you fell. You hit the ground a lot harder than you thought. Your head ricocheted off the ground painfully. You ignored the crunch your legs made. Everything hurt so bad, the pain wouldn’t even let you scream. You knew you had calculated your fall right. The ghosts thought you did too, all watching with various shocked expressions. You tried to move and look around you and stay awake. You could only look up. Through your darkening vision, the last thing you saw was Michael leaning out the window, smiling down at you. The cat had caught the canary.

////

You groaned in pain as you opened your eyes.

The light was blinding, difficult to adjust to.

Where were you? Why were you here? How long had it been?

As you looked around, the room looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Oh? You’re finally awake, It’s been a few days, I missed seeing your eyes” a male voice spoke from beside you.

You slowly turned your head to the voice.

The man looked familiar; you raked your brain to figure out who it was.

He placed his hand on your cheek, you hissed and flinched as he stroked scabby and bruised skin. “Look at you. If you had stayed inside, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?”

His eyes finally met yours and everything came rushing back.

A feeling of dread overtook you. You tried to shuffle away from him, but something was preventing you from moving.

You tried to figure out what it was. Looking yourself over, noticing the blanket was bulky.

You momentarily forgot about the predator in the room, pulling the blanket away and revealing your legs, both in casts.

One of the casts had been signed, ‘get well soon, Love, your Alpha’.

You wanted to sob, but you knew any sudden movements would be painful.

Michael rolled his eyes and pulled the blanket back over you, tucking you in.

“If you’re good, you’ll get your painkillers. If you’re bad…,” he leaned over you, putting his weight on your legs, “I’ll cut them off next time,” he grinned.

He got onto the other side of the bed, holding you close to him, squeezing you just a little too tight, and giving your forehead a kiss.

Not even the apocalypse could get you out of his grasp now, he’d kill you both before anything tried to take you from him. Wherever you were, that was his sanctuary. Even if it meant eternal torment in the pits of hell, it didn’t matter, as long as it was with you.

[mylittlegemlins]

Hello tumblr, during my childhood I was really obsessed with smurfs and since I found out that they released a reboot, which unfortunately I haven´t yet been able to see, I think I had some inspiration and ended up writing this.

I don't usually post this kind of blog about series unless I'm too immersed in it because I feel like it's too childish but to hell, blogging about-analyzing series for kids is my entertainment method and if I can't post about my likes on Tumblr I don't know why have an account.

So I present:

How to catch the Smurfs

This is the definitive tutorial on everything Gargamel ever did to catch the little blue critters.

It is based mainly on the animated series from the 80s and the 3 films that were produced between 2011-2017, I watched several episodes again to write this, but I still hope I don't forget some important information.

Following these steps:

1. Why catch the Smurfs?

During the comics, the series and the recent movies there were many reasons why Gargamel and other humans wanted to capture the Smurfs that change over time, among its main uses we have:

- They are ingredients for exotic dishes.

-Turn them into gold

- Ingredient for the Philosopher's Stone

- Use its essence to obtain magic

- Their tears serve as an ingredient for spells

-Their skin serves as a treatment to cure diseases

2. Points to consider:

This is a set of rules that fall between the lines when using a Smurf for any of the recipes mentioned above.

2.1 How many are needed:

In some episodes Gargamel was about to cook a single Smurf, so 1 is enough to eat them.

To turn them into gold you need at least half a kilo, about 6 smurfs.

2.2. They don't need to be alive

I didn't remenber any place where it said that Smurfs must be alive to use them in recipes.

2.3. Smurfette doesn't always count

She has to be a real smurf or else it won't work, during her first appearance before the papa smurf spell and the episode "smurfette unmade" where she reverts to her original form she is not a real smurf, so it wouldn't work unless that is in its blonde form.

2.4. Fake Smurfs:

The reason Gargamel can't just create another Smurf and use it in his recipes is because his creations are blue clay with a conscience, to turn them into real Smurfs you need the “true blue”spell

2.5. Artificial Smurfs:

Smurfette, Sassete, Kactus, Vicky and any other Smurf they come up with in the future, count as real Smurfs only after their transformation.

To clarify the points, these are the steps:

3.Locate them

The Smurfs are in a village protected by a magical force that makes it invisible or unreachable, it is only possible to find the village if a Smurf guides you to it, even after finding the exact location it will have disappeared if you try to return, so the best It is marks the surroundings of the village and look for them in the places that the Smurfs frequent.

It is possible to capture them when they leave the village, force them to guide you, enter the village using teleportation spells or hoaxes.

4.Traps

Catching smurfs is relatively easy, you can chase them with butterfly nets, catch them with your bare hands, using a cat or any other hunting animal, now that I think about it a hound would be very useful to track their scent.

Using some classic traps to hunt animals also works with Smurfs, traps with cages or hidden holes in the ground, or camouflage in a bush until a Smurf is close enough to catch it, you can't use traps like an obvious cage with food in it, they are too smart to fall for that.

It is more effective if they are placed in strategic places such as a field of smurfberries which is outside the village.

Small female creatures are also used as decoys, such as female smurfs, little mermaids and lymph to make a smurf fall in love and thus leave the village to a point where they can be captured.

5.Which Smurfs to capture

Personally I think there are Smurfs that are easier to catch, although Gargamel could not have a list of all with so many times that they have passed by his house, he should already recognize one or another Smurf and I remember that there is a episode where he knows some of his names.

The main cast, Smurfette, Hefty, Brainy, Clumsy, Greedy, Grouchy, Jokey and Handy as far as i can remember, they´re the ones that have been captured the most times and also the ones that have escaped the most, since they're easy to capture, it would be convenient to take advantage of this, but since they know how to get out, they should change the cages with them, put the cages in another place, move the objects that previously used to get out, and above all not to fall the same tricks again.

Papa smurf has been captured many times, he is the one who most leaves the village and if in one of his trips they capture him, maybe the others would not notice his absence, it is something difficult because he already knows how to escape and he can use spells against you, but if you manage to kill him the others would be lost without their leader, and with the disaster they would be easier to capture.

Lazy smurf takes naps during his work outside the village so it's a good chance to catch him, hopefully he might still be asleep while preparing the recipe and he won't try to escape.

According to his debut episode sickly smurf was never able to escape from Gargamel and Azrael; it is so easy that he catches him with his bare hands in 20 seconds.

Baby Smurf is more vulnerable for obvious reasons, the negative side is that there is always a Smurf looking after him, but if they manage to separate the baby it would be easy to cook , considering the life expectancy of the Smurfs is more than 500 years, it may remain a baby for the next 10 years so there is time to execute your plan.

Nat, Snapy, Sassete and Slouchy, the 4 children Smurfs that appear in season 5 are in almost the same circumstances as Baby Smurf.

In Wild Smurf's first appearance he kicked Gargamel in the face and easily made Azrael afraid of him so it might not be a good idea to mess with him.

I guess Smurfs like scaredy would never leave the village unless they forced it so the only times he gets caught is when they capture all 100 together.

6.Don't let them escape

In many occasions the Smurfs escape when they have already been captured by Gargamel, either from his hands, cages and in their closest attempts they escape from the pot.

These are the points to keep in mind:

6.1 Capture only one

If you capture a single Smurf than two or more as it will take a while for them to realize that one is missing and they will not come to their rescue, the more they are, the more likely they will find a plan to escape, so keep them in mind. separate cages.

6.2 The others will come

Once Gargamel has one or more Smurfs, it is 100% certain that the others will come to rescue him at his house, so it would be convenient to go to another place away from the forest where he can cook the Smurfs without others being able to find them. Gargamel has a basement with a secret door, he was able to hide there and pretend he didn't have them until the rescuers leave.

6.3 catch rescuers

Knowing that more Smurfs could come, you could use it to your advantage by placing traps on the doors and windows, or on the contrary, closing everything so that it is impossible to enter without having a key.

6.4 They will leave him for dead

In the episode "the tear of a Smurf ", it seems that if they don't find a missing Smurf it only takes a week for them to surrender and prepare for his funeral. You can hide the smurfs with their mouths tied up in a drawer and pretend you don't know what they are talking about until they give up, then it will be time to execute the recipes. If Gargamel had enough brain cells to keep the secret, he could eat the Smurfs and the rest would think they were eaten by birds or something and would not take revenge.

6.5. Do not look any further

If you already have 99 it is enough, even if you have only one, it is not worth risking it to find one more, it is a trap.

6.6. Don't open jokey surprises.

The characters always forget that gift.

6.7. Don't listen to them

On several occasions they try to make conversation to buy time, they trick him into thinking that he will bring more Smurfs or that he cannot eat him, everything is a trap.

6.8. Just kill them

He never did that but it's a very obvious choice, I don't remember somewhere saying that smurfs have to be alive for recipes, Gargamel has repeatedly expressed his desire to destroy them. Wouldn't it be easier to kill them before throwing them into the pot? if you can't, they don't even have to be dead, just unconscious or asleep. Gargamel has drops of lava in his lab for some reason, how come he doesn't have substances to knock them unconscious? In case he have many captured you could use classic techniques such as placing the cage in a tub of water until they drown, even stepping on them would be enough since they are very small.

6.9. Papa Smurf's books

If Gargamel tries to kill them with an epidemic, papa will have the cure, if he casts a spell, papa has the antidote, since he has been in the village on several occasions, he should take the opportunity to steal or destroy their books, he could look for the true blue spell and perhaps find another useful spell.

7.Enjoy your smurf soup

If that's all i came up with, you can already eat or become a millionaire at the cost of a smurf's life, hopefully you'll have to face a horrible revenge from papa smurf, but i'm not responsible for that.

8.Other methods to get smurfs:

This is a set of theories for alternative ways to get smurfs without capturing one from the village.

8.1. create smurfs:

In the second live action movie gargamel gets the formula for the true blue spell, so from here technically he could create smurfs, then transform them into real smurfs and do whatever he wants with them, during the series he had to look for the formula instead to look for smurfs.

8.2. Clone Smurfs:

In the episode "the hundredth smurf" Vanity creates a clone of himself that eventually integrates into the village, it is a genetically exact clone so there is no doubt that it is a real smurf. He just needs to place a mirror in front of a smurf and get it struck by lightning, Gargamel could capture a smurf and make clones that will work, he wouldn't even have to keep the original and he would have an infinite smurf machine.

8.3. Kidnap Baby Smurfs:

During the blue moon it is possible that a zork came to the village bringing a baby smurf, it can take up to 200 years without bringing one but if you are alive when that happens, you can try to hunt the zork and capture the defenseless baby.

8.4. Repeat the fake smurf technique:

If it is possible to create fake Smurfs like Smurfette, it might work on a second try, Smurfs are not very cautious around strangers, once Smurfette arrives in the village no one wonders where she came from or why she was in the forest, but rather Immediately they offer him a house, Gargamel could create a smurf and this time instruct him to lead all the smurfs in the village into a trap and make sure he does not turn good, he can also turn himself into a life-size smurf costume, Nobody will notice that there is an extra Smurf and he can repeat the same trap,third time’s a charm

9.Conclusion:

Surely there are many other methods to catch Smurfs but I can't see the whole series again even if I wanted to, because it is a series for children Gargamel never learns from his mistakes I think that catching Smurfs is not that exaggeratedly difficult, especially for someone who has access to magic may be as difficult as capturing a talking rabbit, Gargamel is just stupid.

The end.

[toothpastecanyon]

We Creatures, Chapter 3

When Alcor felt Mizar calling to him, he came to help. Perhaps, this one time, he should have stayed asleep.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

“I spy with my little eye… something beginning with e.”

“Is it elves?”

“What? No!”

“Just checking,” Mizar sat back in her seat. “Just checking, uh… electricity! From the lights?”

“No.”

“Elm tree! I see some elms over there.”

Alcor grinned. “Nope.”

“Okay… fuck, I give up. What is it?”

“Okay, are you ready? You’re gonna kick yourself: Everest.”

“Ev… Everest?” She raised an eyebrow. “Like the mountain in the Himalayas?”

“Yeah!” He chuckled to himself. “You know, I’ve gotten a not-insignificant number of summoners over the years who wanted me to teleport them to the top of Everest and back. Some of them worded it better than others, but you humans are just obsessed with that place - it’s so funny to me!”

“That’s great, but this is the third time you’ve named something only you can see.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t think this Eye Spy game is working.”

“Oh… that’s okay! I have other road trip games! How about twenty questions - we pick something in the environment and, uh, the other person asks you twenty questions about what it could be…”

He launched into an explanation. In the back, Mizar rolled her eyes. She was grinning, though.

______________________________________________________________

They rounded a curve on the interstate, radio blasting.

“We gotta hooooold on to what we got!”

“It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not!”

Mizar was using a soda can as a microphone. “We got each other, and that’s enough for noooow, we’ll give it a shot!”

“OHHHHH, we’re halfway there!” Alcor swerved in time to the music. “OOOH-OHHH, livin’ on a prayer! Liiivin’ onnn a prayyyy-aaa-err!”

______________________________________________________________

“And so I told her, you can’t ride a pig into battle, Mabel. Waddles - his name was Waddles - is too small, and let’s face it, he’s not really a fighter. He rolls - rolled - in the mud all day, he ate carrots, he’s not really down to charge through a cultist’s basement and strike fear in their hearts”

Mizar was slumped in the back, methodically ripping up gummy worms. “Mmmhm.”

“But, uh, a bit of a size change, and boy was I wrong.” Alcor chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel as they cut through a forest. The sun was still up, but it was blocked by the trees; every so often he’d squint as a ray peeked through. “Kind of glad that didn’t become a regular thing. A horse-sized pig is, uh, more intimidating than you’d think.”

“Mmmhm.”

“But yeah, she did funny things like that… all Mizars tend to do stuff like that… but always a different thing, you know?”

“Yeah…”

“I dunno, maybe I’m explaining it weirdly.” His smile faded a bit. “It’s been a long time since I thought about her… too long. I just… I sort of forgot, I guess? It feels like I can’t’ve - she was my sister, but… I guess time does that to you.” Alcor stared forwards. “Everything fades. In time.”

The silence stretched, and Mizar frowned a bit. She glanced over at him.

“Dude?”

“Huh?” He blinked. “Oh, sorry! Think I blanked on you for a second there.”

“Always encouraging to hear that from your driver.”

“Heh, yeah…” Alcor nodded, and then looked back at her. “So what about you?”

No reply. He looked back, and saw she’d gone still.

“Mizar?”

“What do you mean, what about me?” Ostensibly nothing had changed about her, but Alcor could feel a sort of carefulness in her choice of words now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and Alcor made a face.

“I didn’t mean anything serious by it. I just thought I’d get to know you a little bit more!” He shrugged. “You know, uh… oh, what’s your name? I never asked you that.”

“You’ve been calling me Mizar, right? That works.”

“Well, Mizar’s your soul’s name. You have a name apart from that, right?”

“Sure I do.”

“Yeah?” There was a pause. “Uh, what is it?”

“…Smith.” Mizar ripped a gummy worm in half. “John Smith, there you go.”

Alcor struggled to keep a smile. “Okay, Mizar, uh… so you lived in New York, huh?”

“Yeah. You gonna make me give you an address now?”

“No, I- ugh. Forget it.” Alcor rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t trying to pry, I was just trying to get to know you. Why are you so against that?”

“Why do you want to know so bad?” Mizar sat up a bit. “Look, genuinely? I’m sorry that’s frustrating for you. When I summoned a demon, I wasn’t exactly thinking I’d have to make small talk with them.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means I actually kind of like you, dude! And I feel bad, but I can’t risk…” she trailed off, then cleared her throat. “How about this. Once we get to the desert, you can ask me anything you want, okay?”

Alcor frowned. “Okay… I’ll wait for the desert, then.”

“Thank you.” She sat back a little. “Thank you, Alcor.”

He didn’t quite know what to say to that. The conversation seemed like it had reached its end, and he started fiddling with the radio again. Most of it was adverts, though; it felt like sometimes the stations were coordinating to all go on break at the same-

“Look out!”

Mizar’s voice shot through him like a knife. He looked up and noticed there was something in the road - a deer! He swerved hard, and then he tried to swerve away from a tree right at the bend in the road but it was coming up too fast and-

The impact broke on him like a wave slamming against a hard cliff, and the sound of glass and metal shattering split his body’s eardrums. He felt his head crack against the steering wheel, and when he looked up he had to blink through the blood.

There were… legs? Legs through the windshield, and a sweatered body wrapped around the tree, and Alcor felt a raw fear flood through his being.

“Mizar?” He tried to get up, get out of his body, but something held him in place. “Mizar!”

And then she moved. He froze.

“Ugh…” Mizar shifted, and moved her neck off the right-angle it was making with the tree’s trunk. She rubbed her head. “Ow.”

Alcor watched with wide eyes as she shook herself off, and started extracting her legs through the opening. All the broken glass on the hood hadn’t left a scratch on her, it was…

“Impossible,” Alcor breathed. He saw her eye settle on him, her face flash through a million expressions before turning carefully blank. “You’re not human.”

“It…” She hesitated. “It doesn’t matter right now. We need to go.”

He tried to sit up, but something was keeping him rooted in place. It was more than being trapped; he tried to step into the Mindscape, but something had tethered itself to his very soul and bound him to the Earth.

“I can’t.” He frowned. “I’m… trapped?”

“You’re trapped?”

Bound to the Earth… Alcor lifted up his shirt, and found a branch impaled through his abdomen, skewering him to the seat. It was young, thin, but before his eyes, he watched it grow thicker, watched bark form on its trunk, and creep up his skin.

Mizar saw it too. “Shit,” she said, and backed up. “They’re here. They want you.”

“The elves?”

“Yeah… I have to go now.” She jumped off the car’s hood. “Sorry, dude.”

“Mizar? They want me? Wh-what does that mean? Mizar!”

But she was gone - vanished into the darkness. Alcor gritted his teeth, then he summoned a flame and tried to burn the branch. Nothing happened; if anything, a couple leaves sprouted where it should have turned to ash. The bark kept climbing up his chest, and he felt… strange. A little drowsy. It was easy to resist - for now.

But there were voices, and he pushed all that to the side.

“...No, child.” Elvish - spoken softly, like a song. “Do not chase the startled bear into its cave. Have patience, patience…”

He could see three pairs of feet, approaching. Two of them were clad in bark armour - the middle wore a long, flowing robe, and continued forwards where the other two stopped. It walked right up to Alcor, and for the first time in a very long while, he could feel a little bit of apprehension.

It was just an elf, he told himself. Just a mortal. Whatever it was, he’s a demon, he could take it…

The feet stopped in front of a mangled car door. Then they leaned down a little, and a face appeared through the broken glass. By the ears, they were elven, and by the locks of brilliant white hair framing their face, they were ancient indeed.

“Greetings, demon.” said the elf in a quiet tone. “You’ve made a mistake.”

Then they smiled. Alcor did not like the way they smiled.

“You’ve made a mistake,” He growled. “I don’t know how you’ve got me bound, but you can’t keep it up forever. If I get out and you’ve hurt one hair on Mizar’s head… what are you doing?”

The elder was waving at the other two. In unison, they kneeled on the ground, and started whispering to it. The bark creeping up Alcor’s chest started accelerating.

“Alcor the Dreambender,” the elder turned back to him. “You don’t know what a Sanctuary is, do you?”

“Wh-”

“No, you wouldn’t. Thus far, you’ve been a wise demon; you’ve stayed out of our affairs, and we’ve stayed out of yours.” They smiled. “Or perhaps, you’ve just been a lucky one. If you were wise, you wouldn’t have meddled last night, would you?”

“Meddled?” They leaned back as the elder leaned in close. “You were trying to kill Mizar, you- get back!”

“Let me educate you, child.” They whispered in his ear. “We will grow a great forest over your body. We will live in this Sanctuary, we will walk these woods, and our every thought will keep you bound, will keep you aslumber. And your wistful dreams will cause flowers to bloom in the springtime.”

With a smile, they stepped away, and spoke again.

“Now, do you see? Do you see why you should have been wise, demon?”

Alcor growled. After a moment, he got his claws under the bark encircling his neck. With a little effort, he ripped it away, and glared up at the elder.

“You can’t bind me forever. I’ll get out - you’ll regret this!”

“Hmm… perhaps. But not in time to protect that which you travel with. This… Mizar, you say?”

“Don’t you dare.” Alcor lunged at him. “Don’t you dare! D̞̖̟̱͉O̡͖͇̫N̳̦̳̫̮͎̯'T̹̼̮̤̠͢ͅ ̻̼Y̮͖̜OU҉͙̠̪̭̞̭ ͙̥͍̙͚̹̻D͈A̵̞̠̫̙̲̝R̠E͚̜̺̫̬!̦̤̬͉̪”

“A Mizar…” They stroked their beard. “So that is how it enlisted your help.”

“She҉ is̡ ̵mi͠ne͘!͜ S̸h̸e ìs mine̢!̕ ̷You̧ ̷hu̴rt̢ my̕ Mi͘zar,̴ ̸I ̢W̨ILĻ ͢ḰĮLL͢ ̨Y̵OU̧!”

“But she is not your Mizar.”

Alcor frowned. “Don’t you tell me who my Mizar is - I can feel it. I know!”

At that, the elf… laughed. He growled.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh… it’s not funny.” They sighed; for once, the smile seemed to dip. “It’s not funny. I suppose it just… to see it happen again, it’s strange, is it not?”

Alcor watched the elf look into the distance. In their eyes were a thousand memories, and in their furrowing brow, a thousand pains. It seemed like an eternity before they spoke again.

“I had a daughter, once,” they started. “Long ago. Before I was one of the elders. Before the Transcendence. Shalana, her name was.”

Alcor watched the elf smile.

“And she was so full of life. She loved to dance with the wind and the leaves. And she loved everyone around her.” They shook their head. “She trusted everyone around her, and… she was mistaken.”

Alcor frowned. “What happened?”

“This is why you outsiders shouldn’t meddle.” They glanced up at him. “You ask me what happened - any elf would know what happened, but you are…” they sighed. “You don’t know of the Blighted Ones - they are hunters of us. Very specialized hunters; humans would see through their tricks, but we-“ they gestured at their visor. “We cannot. And you cannot, either.”

“What do you mean?” Alcor raised an eyebrow. “I have enough magic to see through any illusion-“

“And it is your magic that prevents you from seeing the truth! These creatures feed on magic - they twist your Sight, you cannot trust what you see!” The elf clenched their fists. “Just like Shalana could not See. She thought it was a friend who wanted to walk the forest with her; instead it was her doom.”

Alcor made a face. “I’m… so sorry to hear that.”

They looked at him, and did not smile. “You dare apologise to me?” They hissed, and leaned in closer. “You dare apologise to me when you saved her murderer last night!”

Alcor felt the elder grab his suit and wrench him in close. He was too stunned to resist.

“I spent millennia pleading with the Elders to hunt this creature down! Now I am one, and you dare interfere? You dare deny her justice? And for what?” They dug angrily in his suit pocket, and drew out the dewdrop. “For this?! This is what I’ll lose my retribution over?!”

Alcor couldn’t respond. The bark creeped up his neck, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open. The elder was only a blur as they pushed themself off of him.

“No…” they said. “Calm. Be calm. The mountain does not sway like the wind around it.”

He tried to sit up, but he was rooted to the seat. Nothing budged.

“I should not be surprised by this,” said the elf. “I should not. After all, what does a demon know of love?”

The bark was stretching over his jawline. Alcor could hardly summon the strength to panic anymore.

“Sleep well, Dreambender. You will wake to a better world- what is that?”

His closing eyes rolled over to look, and he saw something drop from the trees. There was a snarl, a cry, and the two elves stood up; suddenly the sleepiness fell away from him, and he jolted awake.

Mizar - or whatever she was - was the first thing he saw. She had the elder pinned, and with the back of her hand she slapped the visor off his face. They pushed her off and jumped away, covering their face.

“No! No! My eyes deceive! You’re not her!”

The two elves drew their swords and closed in. Mizar danced back as they slashed, glanced to the car, and then ripped off the side door and used it like a shield. One elf stabbed and stuck their sword in; she twisted it out of their hand, bashed them to the floor, then pounced on top and ripped out their throat.

The other elf raised their sword and drove it down through her back. She let out a cry, but in a flash she was on her feet again, eyes on the blade. They tried to slash at her; she caught their arm, twisted it back, and slammed them into the dirt.

Then it was silent, but for the quiet whimpering of the downed elf. Alcor watched her slowly, slowly kneel down to their level. She gripped their shoulders, and turned them over to face her.

He couldn’t see their face - only a sweater, and jangling bracelets on her arms. But the elf saw something else; he saw them go rigid, saw their feet kick up leaves as they struggled to get away, heard their groans turn to a desperate cry -

“No, no! No! Help! Tarathiel, aid me! I-”

Then Mizar struck. Alcor flinched at the scream, at the crack of bone and gristle; a deep pit formed in her stomach as he heard her begin to eat. Yet the more he watched, strangely, the fuzzier she seemed. Whatever she was doing, it was like the world around him had formed a kind of censor, and even the sounds of it faded sharply.

Like something was twisting his Sight… Alcor looked down at the visor that had landed on the front seat. He took a deep breath, and then ripped his hand out of the bark that had encased it, grabbed the visor, and put it over his eyes.

Now he saw without Sight. Now he saw the Creature that he had called Mizar.

It wasn’t human, no. It was much taller, and so, so thin. It was covered in a layer of fine yet shaggy hair, lending a greyish tint to the pale skin beneath; around its legs it was matted and grimy with dried sewage. Its hands were curled, clawed things at the end of its sticklike arms, and it was digging them into the elf to scoop out meat and dripping organs.

It was… oh, stars. Alcor felt a rush of primal fear at the sight of it, and he couldn’t help but gasp.

The Creature heard that; it froze, and then its head snapped around. Its face: its eyes were up where its forehead should’ve been, and the rest was all mouth, dripping with blood. Its jagged teeth glinted like broken glass as it turned and knuckle-walked towards him.

Alcor couldn’t help it; he growled, he leaned away as far as he could. “No… stay, stay back!”

He threw a blast of fire its way. It melted the side of the car, but nothing happened to the Creature - no, worse than nothing. His fire swirled around the narrow, bloodless hole in its chest, and sealed it.

“I’m warning you!” Alcor watched it squeeze itself through the opening in the car; it was so much larger than it looked. “Don’t come any closer, don’t - d-don’t touch me! What are you...”

It was reaching its filthy claws towards his face. He stiffened as they scraped against his forehead… then carefully closed around the visor, and took it off. The glow-eyed, primally terrifying being that hunched before him suddenly-

-just looked like a Mizar again. Felt like a Mizar again. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, there wouldn’t have been a doubt in his mind that this was his sister smiling sadly at him.

“I’m sorry,” said the Creature, with her voice. “I did lie to you. But… look, if I’ve built up any goodwill with you since we met… can you just hear me out? Please?”

Alcor didn’t move, didn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say. He watched the Creature’s eyes flit down, and fix on the branch that was keeping him in place. It reached out a lie of a hand.

“Here, let me get you out of that.”

[cosmoscourge-a]

@dragonskxn​

      “hey, anna. i gotta show you something.”

he sets down his laptop in front of her, where she can see the screen centered on incels.co that he’s pulled up for her. at first, she might think it was a random nobody that he’d just wanted to spork. but as she read the story, the identity of this particular one might be obvious.

[Blackpill]/[Suifuel] I Lost My Girlfriend And Everything I Own to Chad royalscepter Go to: Page 1 | 2 … | 15 | 16

This goes out to all the incels who have recently joined, or those who are thinking of leaving the movement. Do not. DO NOT. I can tell you for a FACT that the world isn’t what the normies want you to think it is. Before I took the blackpill I had some doubts as to who to blame for my misfortunes. But then life showed me that everything you guys believed was true.

I used to have a girlfriend. Let’s call her A. She was a 15 out of 10 Stacy, thick hourglass figure with wide childbearing hips, gorgeous face, beautiful hair. Back then was when I used to LAUGH about incels. I was a 5′5″ subhuman with a micro dick and I still got a girl, so I thought, maybe it’s wrong that all men like me are doomed to be single. Until Chad came in and like he always does, ruined everything.

First he stole my girlfriend. He said I was “not giving her the freedom she deserved,” which was bullshit. I gave her the freedom to order whatever takeout and wear whatever sexy dresses I picked for her. She also got to choose which Pokémon she could take, as long as they were befitting the status of a fine lady such as the woman I wanted as my wife. I was also rich, too, so I could give her anything she wanted! But he came and literally physically stole her right out of my house. RIGHT OUT OF MY HOUSE. Teleported her out of my balcony and everything. Well, I thought, of course she would come back to me. There’s no way she would keep loving her KIDNAPPER. But then what do I see except her taking pictures with Chad, who somehow managed to turn her into a Becky:

[There are two side-by-side pictures of Annalise posted below, both with her face scratched out. One of them with Annalise in a sexy dress that “royalscepter” had picked for her, and one in a library reading books with Tobias, whose face is also scratched out.]

Well I was absolutely crushed. Losing her was the world’s biggest suifuel, but for some reason, I kept going. I thought, that’s the end of it though isn’t it? I have money. I can find another. He’s not going to come back and do anything else to my life. But then he did. He reached out to another Chad, who I won’t say much about but I will say that he is very powerful, and out of pure unadulterated spite he STOLE MY PROPERTY. That’s right. He had the other Chad charge in and in one Pokémon battle take everything I owned. Now I’m left with nothing living in the basement with one of my friends. Almost thirty, no savings, no job, no femoid to cater to my every need. Because two Chads wanted to come and ruin my life for no reason other than the fact they thought I wasn’t good enough for a beautiful woman. So there it is. Inceldom is real. Inceldom is inescapable. If you’re under 6′0″ it’s OVER, no matter how much money you have in your pocket. You should either accept the fact that you will live a perpetually subhuman existence or

but he closes the laptop before she can finish reading that sentence.

      “so yeah, if you wanted to know what lear’s been up to these days, now you have your answer.”

[goldenchan-fx2thepeacock]

Don’t Go Running Off Into Danger, Even If I Do pt 2

So, I have no clue what a publishing schedule is. So here, have more of this dumb fic at 11 pm. FUCK SLEEP! SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!

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Chapter 2

Danny and Jazz managed to finish just in time to put everything away before their parents got home. He’d actually managed to have a ghost free night. But the peace wasn’t going to last. And this wasn’t about ghosts. He got slammed into his locker.  “Hey look, it’s Fenturd. What’s with the dumb picture of Phantom? You’ll never be on his level,” Dash said and laughter broke out. Danny groaned. At least they didn’t know he was trans. He’d be beaten twice as much if they knew. The locker door closed and locked.  “Seriously Dash? I have to get to class!” He yelled through the metal.  “Whatever Fentina. No one cares! Oh hey, it’s fresh meat!” Dash went away from Danny’s locker. Danny had found out a way to make it so he could open his locker from the inside without it being outerwardly compromised. He jumped out. It was those kids from last night.  “Leave them alone Dash. They haven’t even been here for a day yet. The rules are that newbies get a probation period,” Danny crossed his arms.  “I don’t know Fentoenail. Would you like to take their beating?” Dash mocked him. Danny sighed. He’d have to do this.  “Any day,” 

Danny regretted everything. Dash had hit him twice as hard as normal and his locker trick wasn’t working. Everything hurt. He was going to miss Lancer’s class. At least his ghost sense wasn’t going off or something. Lancer wouldn’t miss him. Suddenly, his locker opened and he tumbled out. He yelped. “Are you okay?” The girl twin said.  “No worse than what I’m used to,” Danny brushed himself off.  “You didn’t have to do that,” The boy twin told Danny. “Yeah, I kinda did. The probation period is sacred. Dash knows that,” “Probation period?” The boy said. “A rule we made up last year. If Dash really wants to break it, I take the beating instead. Fenton gets to take the beating so the new kids don’t have to,”  “That’s not fair. You should report him,” “Nah, he threw like four perfect throws last night and is exempt from punishment,”  “Football?” The boy gave Danny a knowing look.  “Danielle- I mean Daniel Fenton to the main office,” The loud speaker said. “Oh come on! At least it was probably just a misread,” Danny was fuming. The beating plus being deadnamed was getting on his nerves. “We have to head there too,” The girl said. Danny shrugged and let them follow him.

Lancer called them all in at once. “Sup Lancer. Can I help you?” Danny leaned against the wall. “Mr Fenton. You and I both know that you need to show me more respect. W-what happened to you?” Lancer looked up from his papers. “Just a certain football star. Nothing I can’t handle. He broke the probation period,” “That’s a rule between students. I have no need to enforce it,” Lancer sighed. “I have no clue why you of all people were chosen for this, but you are too be Mr and Ms Pines guide around the school,” “Jazz not good enough for you? Had to pick the ‘slacker’ Fenton?” “Daniel, mind your tone. Jazz is our top student,”  “We all know I’m destined to fail in life. Can I get their timetables?” “Yes of course. Listen Danny, both you and I know you’re capable of better grades. I don’t understand why you don’t try,” Danny wasn’t in the mood for Lancer’s pep talks.  “I’ve got more important things to worry about,” Danny grabbed the papers and stalked off with the Pines Twins on his heels.  “Why didn’t he do anything about Dash?” the boy asked. “He has no reason to. Not like I’m about to ask,” Danny handed them their timetables. He’d seen that the girl was named Mabel and the boy Mason. “We’ll start with your classes Mason,”  “I prefer Dipper,” “I’m not calling you by a dumb nickname. Let’s go,” Danny growled.

Just as he was about to lead Mason to his first class, a royal pain in his ass showed up. “Daniel! I require your assistance, little badger,” “It’s bound to be another plan to get in my mom’s pants. Go away,”  “Now, don’t be like that. I’m the mayor after all. You should be honored,” “Plasmius, shut your goddamn mouth. I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck,” Danny said so that only Vlad could hear.  “Well, something’s got you in a tizzy. I’ll ask later. I should tell you though, it’s about Danielle,” “What did you do to Dani?” Fury. Wait, he had to get the kids to class.  “Nothing. It wasn’t me. You should ask your ghost hunter girlfriend,” Vlad grinned. Fucking Valerie.  “Come on kids. You’ve got to get to class,” Danny ignored Plasmius. Valerie was going to die. 

At lunch, he purposefully turned into Phantom and waited for Valerie on top of the school. She took no time at all. “What. Did. You. Do. To. Dani,” He glared at her.  “I didn’t do anything to her! You’re going down ghost!” “Am I really?” Danny was pissed. She wasn’t getting any mercy today. He teleported behind her.  “What the... HOW?” “Where is she?!” He growled. “What do you care? She’s always off on her own,���  “Does it look like I care Valerie?!”  “How did you know?!” “I know more than you seem to think. Tell me where Dani is. NOW!” He froze her feet. She looked terrified.  “What’s wrong with you!? Why do you care so much about her? Ghosts don’t have feelings,” Danny lost it at that point. The laughter was dark. Hollow. Horrible. Val’s terror was visible.  “Don’t have feelings? DON’T HAVE FEELINGS? FUCK YOU! I’M SO TIRED OF ALL THIS!” “Phantom, calm down,” Val was terrified. Danny wasn’t done. The rings were threatening to come down and expose him to her.  “So you admit this is real? Would you like to know how it feels to die Val? How it feels to live on the line between life and death? Wait, I can’t do that! You don’t have a deactivated portal in your basement that I can make you turn on while your inside. I don’t have a stupid jumpsuit with your dad’s face on it so I can take off the that sticker. You don’t have parents that threaten to rip you apart molecule by molecule for just exsisting! You don’t have to see a future where you become evil because you cheated on one test and your family all died! Can you even begin to comprehend what I go through? Ever been cloned? And forced to do something incredibly painful so that one clone can get fixed and watch another get lied too? And that’s just the brunt of it Valerie. Keep telling me how I don’t feel. How I’m nothing!” Danny screamed at ice engulfed their feet. Val’s eyes went wide.  “D-Danny?” She said quietly. “Congratulations! You aren’t as niave as the rest of Amity Park! How does it feel?” He’d snapped. “Calm down! I’ll tell you where Dani is!” She shrieked. That hollow laugh came back. But instead of an angry rant afterwards, he just sunk to his knees and screamed. It wasn’t a wail. It was a scream of pain. Of being done with the world.  “I can’t do this anymore,” He sobbed and the rings went down. All that was left now was a beaten, broken Danny Fenton.  “You should change back. I’ll take you to Dani,” Danny nodded and followed her.  “Sorry I broke down. I’m just sick of people telling me that I can’t feel. That all ghosts can’t feel. You don’t even bother talking to us, ya know?” “Ghosts lie,” “And so do people! I’ve talked to the ghosts. Listened to them. Heard their stories. I protect people, but I protect them too!” “How do you know those aren’t just acts?” “Cause they make sense. I’d have the same response if it was me. If my parents burned down the place I was in because I got caught being gay,” “I’m confused,” “Ember. I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone. But you need to know that they all have reasons for being the way they are. Skulker’s family was hunted, so now he hunts to prove his strength,” “Maybe we should talk to you more,”  “Maybe you should. No one asks to die,” “But your parents say that ghosts don’t remember their lives. They’re the leading experts,”  “That’s like putting a ten year old in a room of babies. They’re the expert by default in that situation, but an adult would be the expert the moment they walked in,” “Why don’t we know about that,” “Dying is traumatizing. Even half dying is traumatizing. It’s taboo to mention it unless you’re told. No one explains it until they’re ready. And talking about a life before that is almost wrong,” “How did you learn?” “Skulker told me during the Christmas Truce. Ember told me one day when she just wanted to be left alone, but I did too. I guess things end up working out in weird ways,” “The Christmas Truce?” “On Christmas Eve and Christmas, ghosts have a truce. No one is allowed to fight anyone that day. The Ghost Writer broke the truce and Walker got to haul him off in just means,” “We really know nothing about ghosts, do we?” “No, you don’t. They even have a party. I got invited last year. Skulker let me make the star! It took me weeks to get it right,” Danny smiled at the memory. He’d made a scale model of a blue giant that went through it’s life stages.  “So there’s a whole society?” “A government. Systems. Main rules. Taboos. Just cause we’re ghosts, doesn’t mean we don’t have a system,” “I’m sorry,” “What?” Danny nearly froze. “I’m sorry that I made so many assumptions. I never should’ve chased you or any ghost like that,” “Keep them out of Amity Park and send them back to the Zone. Most ghosts forget that living is dangerous, so they just rampage. I keep trying to talk sense into them, but they’re pretty stubborn,”  “What about the dog?” “Dog? You mean Cujo? I was trying to stop him from trashing Axiom. He was trying to get a toy. I’m sorry that recked your life Val,” “My life? Wrecked? When compared to you, my life is a dream. It’s not like I died,” “I guess you’ve got a point,”

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Thanks for reading. I just like fics where Val finds out, and this one seemed like an okay place to stick it. Dani is fine. I’ll fill you in on that next chapter, but I should get some sleep.

[jadoue1999]

Wanda and the life she deserved (she’ll made sure of it) Chapter 7

Summary: After unknowingly saving Wanda from Agnes’ clutches, the Maximoff twins take walk.

Previous parts: Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10, chapter 11, epilogue

Chapter 7: The circus

They continued walking for awhile, talking about their childhood. Wanda was aware that many memories coming from her brother were wrong, but she ignored it. It was nice talking to him alone. They had settled on finding Vision, she was certain he was around Ellis Avenue, his last known location. Wanting to make the moment last longer, Wanda requested that they didn’t use magic, or superspeed. Pietro had originally agreed, but his fidgeting was steadily increasing with each step they took. She spotted a circus where the abandoned Avenue once was. Unsure about what they might encounter, she turned to her twin. “I can go get Vision on my own, go help Agnes. I’m sure she’ll have enough stuff to do that you won’t even see the time pass.”

“You sure, sis? I can wait.” Pietro might have believed his words, but Wanda could see how much he wanted to run and move. She assured him she’d be fine, and he was gone in the blink of an eye.

Wanda looked up at the circus banner, finding irony in the state of the soldiers. Them, who wanted to understand the situation so badly, were now in it. How’s that for firsthand experience? She walked through the various performers, they were filling typical roles any circus would have clowns, gymnast, they even had a strong man and a psychic.

“Hello!” Greeted a man dress in a blue leotard, he was holding his nose that was obviously broken. “Are you here for any specific performance?”

She ignored the man’s injury, knowing S.W.O.R.D, he probably deserved it anyway. She looked around at the various entertainment, they were all pretty straightforward. Her eyes landed on one specific tent, the psychic. She decided to amuse herself and walked over, the board next to the tent read: Charles the Xtraordinary.

Coming in, it wasn’t all that impressive, there was a crystal ball at the center of the table and various cushions were laid on the ground. A bald man, probably in his forties, was seated on one side of the table.

“Welcome,” he said, opening his eyes to greet his guest. “I am Charles, I suppose you’re here to know your fortune?”

“Shouldn’t you know that already?” Joked Wanda with a smirk.

The man returned her smile, “yes, I suppose so.” He motioned her to take a seat. ”Shall we begin?” As the man put his hands over the ball, it began to glow. Closing his eyes, the man hummed pensively, “I see pain, a lot of pain,” he sighed. “Oh, I’m sorry Wanda, so much loss.”

She froze in shock, she had met many psychics in her lifetime, but a circus charlatan certainly couldn’t be the real deal, right? But then again, how could he know her name, and what she lived through?

The man continued, “I see a great battle, one that was unfortunately lost. But then everything was made right,” he frowned, “but not for you. You were still alone.” Her senses were on high alert, her magic was pushing for a rewind, but she had to know more. She needed to know how he could achieve this. “I see... a breaking point, and great suffering. Oh Wanda... what have you done?”

Wanda couldn’t take it anymore, she had to know who he was. What kind of S.W.O.R.D. Agent was he? She tentatively lifted a hand to his temple and let her magic do the work. The man’s eyes opened, and he gasped as he was released from her spell. He looked around him, confused at his surroundings before gripping his head in pain. He looked at her, seemingly to thank her for releasing him before he froze. “Wanda Maximoff! What an honor to meet you!” Charles went to shake her hand, but she backed off before he could reach her. Although slightly taken aback from her movement, the psychic continued. “We have a slight misunderstanding here, your brother, Pietro as you call him, he’s not your brother, not really.” Charles paused as he tried to take in her reaction, but Wanda was unreadable. “You see, a team composed of myself and a couple of others, including his father, are here to bring him back. We crossed universes to get here, it took weeks to find the right calculations. Thanks to your broadcast, we had a good grounding point. The military base kept us updated about Peter. We were brought in as you expanded the Hex, even our member with teleportation powers couldn’t escape. I’m certain it wasn’t your intention to trap us, or Peter, but you have to let us go. We’re not from your universe, we don’t belong here, we- “

“No,” interrupted Wanda, startling the man. He certainly hadn’t expected that reaction. “This is my home, I have my husband, my children and my brother. I will not let you take them away.”

“Ms. Maximoff, you have to come to reason, you cannot keep up this lie forever. What you’re doing is wrong, putting an entire town under mind control- “

“Is better than putting the entire Earth under it,” completed Wanda. Her accent was out once again, rage oozing off her body as she stared at the man. She could feel his stare, and something else, it was nudging at her brain. A telepath, Wanda realized. She quickly shielded her mind and her magic acted without her realizing. In a move that could challenge her brother’s speed, she put the spell back on the man. Eager to finish this awful conversation and go home. She hadn’t found Vision, why had she even stayed? The consequences tied to the man’s words quickly clicked, Peter’s team was here, here for him. That could only mean that his father wasn’t far. If he was anything like her brother had described, she would be in trouble.

As she ran out of the tent, she looked around with more attention. In her frantic state, everything seemed so overwhelming, yet no one took notice of her panic. She couldn’t see much that was out of the ordinary, so she assumed that most clowns were probably soldiers.

‘That leave the specific role to...’ Wanda didn’t finish that thought as her eyes stopped on another attraction: Nightcrawler and his disappearing act. The psychic had mentioned a team, with one of their members not being able to teleport away in time. The irony of the name had to have meaning. Suddenly she stopped in her track. No, no, no, please. I’m not ready! She ran over to the banner, not wanting to believe the writing on it. There, written on bold red letters, was the confirmation that her little world couldn’t continue much longer.

 Magneto, the man of steel.

 Wanda supposed it was ironic that the man controlling metal was nicknamed like that, but then again, her magic had a twisted sense of humor. She quickly left the circus, appearance be damned; she used her magic to reach her house faster. Unsurprisingly, it was empty. Vision was apparently still mad at her, she wished she could make it better. Wanda made a mental note to sit down with him and apologize, he deserved to know the truth. Though right now, she was feeling better. She closed her front door, heading for Agnes’ house; she had missed her children. She ringed the doorbell, she could see movement inside and seconds later, her neighbor opened the door.

“Hi Wanda! Feeling better?”

“Yes, can I come in?”

Agnes opened the door wider to let her in, Wanda felt something was amiss, but she tossed her worry aside as her neighbor started offering drink options. She settled for a tea and sat at the table.

After a few moments, she noticed the eerie silence of the house, save from the television. There were no arguments about who could do something better than the other or even a reaction to whatever show the boys would be watching. There was also no sign of Pietro, no sign of anything being repaired either.

“Where are the twins?” Wanda asked, “and Pietro?”

Agnes paused the making of her tea, wiping her hands on a dish towel, and turned to her. “Oh, your brother is fixing a leaky pipe in the basement, I tried to tell the kids to leave him be, but they wanted to be with their uncle, so I let them go with him.”

That makes sense. Wanda wasn’t sure if her mind was being sarcastic or not. She opened the basement door, calling her children. After no answer came, she walked down the stairs, ignoring how creepy the basement slowly became after each step. Her instincts were screaming at her to run away, but she had to get to her boys. After calling their names once again and getting no answers, true bone chilling fear settled in her body. As she turned a corner next to a glowing door, she had only one thought. Please be alright.

She arrived in a bigger room, a lair? She walked around trying to make sense of the place. Wanda passed a cabinet containing various bones when she felt drawn to her right. A black book radiating orange energy was on the table. The gears in her head finally clicked. This is a dungeon, probably the very same dungeon Peter talked about. Get out, get out, get out-

“Wanda, Wanda,” Agnes’ voice resonated through the room. “You didn’t think you were the only magical girl in town, did you?” With a flick of her fingers, a far away door closed by itself. She resumed petting her rabbit, “the name’s Agatha Harkness, lovely to finally meet you dear.”

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Notes: The circus is in town! And it brought in unexpected visitors...

[luverofralts]

Post Arkhelios

Abe bought three pregnancy tests just to be safe. One positive test could be a fluke. Two positive tests could just be a false positive and a fluke. But three?

Abe looked at the third positive pregnancy test and tried not to scream. This was not happening to him. This was a terrible dream and nothing more.

He curled up in his room, trying to sort through his options. Maybe a fourth pregnancy test?

That week his mom had ordered new furniture for his previously very creepy room, and then returned to her same distant style of parenting. Her work was no longer her hideaway from her terrible marriage, but was again the passion of her life. Lucy and Oriana were as thick as thieves, and together sought to pack as much fun into their lives as they possibly could. Nathan and Nickolas were bonding over telling each other scary stories about the noises they heard in the basement. So Abe had a lot of time alone, for which he was suddenly very grateful.

He couldn’t tell his mom about the pregnancy tests, that was absolutely certain. Lucy or Oriana would just tell his mom. Ironman assured him that betraying a promise to secrecy was against his programming, but Abe didn’t really know how far he could trust the servo who was in love with Oriana. He had to tell Roman somehow. Roman would know what to do, and would rush home from Pleasantview to be by his side, Abe was sure of it. Without the Bellamys paying for Roman’s phone, and the lack of modern technology at the boarding school, how would he talk to Roman though? He couldn’t ask Wanda to summon Roman again. Not without walking into the Bellamy house and declaring that he was carrying their newest great-grandchild anyway.

Oh god, he really was carrying their great-grandchild. A positive test wasn’t just a result, it meant a baby, and a crib and diapers....

Abe decided that his best option was Ulyssa. She had a phone, and had access to Roman at school. She was his best chance of speaking to Roman without accidentally letting half of Arkhelios know his secret.

Jorah came to the door and sighed.

“Hi Abe, I just have to pick up the garbage again quick. Every time I fix it, someone comes around to kick it over again. It’s been happening a lot since...you know...my mom and your dad left.”

A cockroach ran by Abe’s feet and he shuddered.

“Yeah, us too,” he said. “We’re not exactly popular, especially since my mom basically declared war on Salem Bellamy.”

And you’re having his grandson’s baby. How will Mom react to that news?

“What brings you over here?” Jorah asked. “Hopefully nothing to do with my mom?” Abe shook his head.

“No nothing about our parents,” he said. “I need you to ask Ulyssa to get Roman to call me. It’s something important, and I need to talk to him as soon as possible.”

Abe’s stomach made a terrible noise, and he hoped he could remember where the Durant’s bathroom was in time.

“Please call her, I’ll be right back! I hope!”

It still terrified Jorah to see his sister arrive out of nowhere, engulfed in magical light.

“Warn me next time!” he shouted. “How are you even doing that?”

“You’re the one who texted me that Abe was having an emergency and to come quick,” she retorted. “You do remember that we have a string of unsolved murders in Arkhelios, right? What was I supposed to think when you said emergency? Where is Abe anyway?”

The siblings found Abe in their main washroom in a terrible state. He clearly hadn’t made it to the toilet in time, and that was a sight the Durants couldn’t ever unsee.

“I’m so sorry,” Abe apologized, standing to greet them, but then doubling over again near the filthy toilet. “I can’t seem to keep anything down. I had plain toast and a banana this morning, but even that is bothering me.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Ulyssa had a pretty good guess of where this conversation was going given all the vomiting, the need to see Roman, and the small bump he was trying to hide under two layers of clothes. “Why do you need to see Roman? What did he do to you?”

Abe flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m pretty sure this is something we did together,” he replied, resting his head against the bathroom wall. “and I’m sure you can probably guess why I need to see him.” He closed his eyes to try to fight the overwhelming nausea. “I’m sorry about your bathroom.”

When he was able to stand again, the Durants moved Abe into Ulyssa’s room and locked the door. They were really hoping no one needed to use the main bathroom before they could get back there to clean it.

“What are you going to do?” Ulyssa whispered. Everyone was in the main living room at the moment, but this was something that she couldn’t risk her parents overhearing. “When did this even happen? We’ve been back at school for awhile.”

Abe sighed.

“He used magic to teleport here. I was really missing him, and then he was just here in front of me, and one thing lead to another....” He trailed off, hoping not to have to explain further.

Ulyssa let a laugh slip out before she could stop it.

“I’m sorry Roman used magic and teleported here? Do you know how hard even a basic teleportation spell is, let alone a spell here? Roman did this?”

Abe shot her a dirty look. He wasn’t just going to out Wanda like that. He gestured to his stomach theatrically.

“Obviously he got here somehow,” he snapped. “Anyway, I’d much rather be talking to him about this. Can you teleport him here? Or teleport me to him? Whatever is faster.”

Ulyssa shook her head.

“No, I can basically just teleport myself. I can’t imagine working out the spell needed to teleport someone pregnant that far away. It would be a disaster.”

“So just teleport back and get Roman to come here,” Jorah suggested.

Ulyssa shook her head a second time.

“I don’t know where he is,” she admitted. “We have internship placements this semester, and I got assigned to Pleasantview. I haven’t seen him around campus and I don’t know where he was assigned.”

Abe was suddenly looking green again, and the Durants braced themselves for the worst.

“There’s another bathroom down the hall!” Jorah called out as Abe took off again.

Abe made less of a mess in the second bathroom, so they moved their meeting into there.

“I brought Lauren,” Jorah said helpfully. “In case you wanted to practice holding a baby.”

Ulyssa shot her brother a withering glare when Abe’s reaction to actually picturing himself having a baby made him more nauseous.

“Idiot,” she murmured. “Look, I’ll go back to school and look up Roman’s posting. Then he can come here and you two can work this thing out.” She smacked Jorah’s shoulder. “Get Lauren out of here.”

“Thanks for everything. I don’t know how I would have gotten to Roman without you guys,” Abe said. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. I think my mom will actually kill me if she finds out.”

“Probably Salem too, when you think about it.”

“Jorah!”

So Abe snuck back home and decided to risk using the hot tub to relieve his back pain and maybe settle his stomach a bit. Seeing that the hot tub was in use, Lucy came bounding up the stairs and jumped in with him.

“There you are! Where have you been all this time?”

Abe sank lower in the bubbles, hoping to hide his stomach.

“Places. None of your business.”

The two fell into silence, and Abe finally felt calm for the first time in awhile. Roman would come soon and help him. He could keep this secret for a little bit longer.

Suddenly Abe felt the now very familiar churning in his stomach, and bolted from the hot tub and down the hall to his bathroom.

“Abe??” Lucy grabbed a towel and ran after her brother. “What’s wrong are you still feeling sick?”

Stomach now fully visible, and his last pregnancy test on the floor, Abe slumped next to the toilet and waited for his nausea to pass. Lucy’s brain was connecting the pieces of evidence before her, and coming to a conclusion she couldn’t believe could be true.

“What have you gotten yourself into Abe??”

(Abe also has food poisoning really bad at the moment, so he barely can start an action without running to the toilet)

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hi all. Thanks for your continued support. This time, now they've decided to give each other a chance, we can see them seeing the benefits of each other's company.

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Five - Cracking The Code

Day Four: Thursday

"Damn," Gajeel murmured. "Maybe I wasn't as harsh on you as I thought."

He didn't know exactly what time it was, nor did he know exactly where he was, but he didn't care. The train journey had been long and, despite Freed's runes taking a lot of the strain off him, Gajeel's stomach had started to squirm and bite against him. The growing nausea mixed with the sparsely healed injuries from the day before and the overall exercion of the past three days had caught up with him, and all he could think of was the bed that Freed had promised him.

By the looks of the building - a large ranch, large enough for Freed's entire team despite the fact he lived alone - the bed would be luxurious. Gajeel had been presumptuous about Freed's wealth in the last few days, and was starting to feel guilty about it, but maybe he hadn't missed the mark.

Sure as hell made his one room apartment look like crap.

"If it makes you feel more comfortable, I have a barn at the edge of my property that has some hay you could sleep in," Freed mumbled under his breath, but Gajeel heard. "I wouldn't want to force you to live outside of your elements, would I?"

"Nah," Gajeel grinned, because he felt guilty about the last three days and didn't wish to get into another argument. "I can try a bed out if I have t'."

Freed explained what was happening during the train ride home, that his demon was influencing their moods and making them more antagonistic. The conversation came from out of nowhere; Freed had a habit of scuffing his feet, Gajeel had gotten annoyed, snapped, and an argument had begun. After some insults, Freed clenched his right fist, rubbed his suddenly glowing eye, and explained the effect that his demon was having on them. After that, they made a decision to think about the reason behind their anger before they spoke, to understand if it was truly what they thought.

It was a tense and fragile truce, and they were acting at being friends. It was a difficult situation to understand; Gajeel didn't really know what he thought of Freed. He knew he was impressed by his resilience, and at some point the slight resentment at the previous day's attack would make way for intrigue and him feeling reluctantly impressed.

Was he really holding back a demon at all times?

"I'll call for Wendy to come here for when you wake up," Freed kept speaking, walking up the staircase with the expectation that Gajeel would follow him. Gajeel did. "She'll be able to be sure I didn't hurt you too badly."

"Sure," Gajeel said, a yawn sneaking out. He didn't miss the small grin on Freed's face when he heard. Dammit, he had been told his yawns were somewhat… feline like. To distract the man, he kept talking. "We doin' any training today? Or just a rest day?"

"I intend to train with you, if you've not got an injury we don't know about," Freed said. "But we should focus on resting first. It's not overly time dependent."

Two days ago, Gajeel might have made a comment about Freed's training regime being too cushy and pampered, but now the words would have come out as bitter and kind of pathetic. Also, his aching body and swirling stomach wanted nothing more than to collapse into a bed and sleep for an age. Damn the tournament and damn the weird forfeit that Makarov had planned.

He followed Freed through the small landing of the upper floor until they stopped by a door, which Freed opened. It was clearly a guest bedroom, nice enough and stocked with more comforts than Gajeel would have been able to fit in his apartment, but definitely not lived in.

"You got a lot of rooms going spare?" Gajeel asked, planting a bag of clothes he'd picked up on the floor.

"Six," Freed said, allowing Gajeel to wander around the room that would be his home for the next three days. "Originally it was intended for the Raijinshuu to all live here, but they need their space, which is understandable. And they stay here from time to time, so normally it doesn't feel so… unoccupied."

Gajeel might have said lonely rather than unoccupied, but it wasn't his place to say.

"You've a bathroom attached to your room and it's stocked with everything you need," Freed explained, then frowned a little. "Well, maybe the two-in-one shampoo and conditioner might not do for you like it does for Laxus, so perhaps you could borrow mine," Freed reached up and curled a lock of Gajeel's hair. "Yes, you keep your hair well. You'll need my products."

"Right," Gajeel said a little curtly, looking at Freed's hand that held his hair with slightly dilated pupils.

"Sorry," Freed said, removing his hand and taking a step back. "I'll be having a shower before sleeping, so if you want me you may need to raise your voice. I'll leave you some time to get used to the room."

"Thanks," Gajeel huffed slightly, not sure what to say.

They looked at each other for a moment, giving each other a nod in goodbye. Freed turned and walked to what was clearly his bedroom, and Gajeel closed the door behind him. He glanced at where Freed might be, absently wondering if this false politeness between them would make way for something more passionate. It felt like he was missing something now he and Freed weren't arguing; maybe Freed was one of the people Gajeel was meant to feel passionately about.

Nah, it was the demon's influence. Must have been. And there was no point in focusing on how they were acting around each other, it wasn't like it would change anything.

He shucked off his jacket, then his shirt and pants. His skin was hardly the cleanest and the blood from his earlier injury wasn't exactly clean, but Freed probably had a change of sheets for him. He climbed into the bed, the mattress a hell of a lot softer than the stained, spring filled piece of crap that made up his own bed. He groaned a little at the soft, cool covers as he wrapped them around his body, burying his face into them. God, whatever they were made of, Gajeel was becoming addicted to instantly.

Maybe he could guilt Freed into giving him these sheets once they were done.

Tiredness overtook him, and he was nearly asleep within a moment. The only thing stopping him from dropping off immediately was the sound of movement in the building. One of few perks of Gajeel's apartment was that the walls were soundproof - he didn't dwell on why that needed to happen - so other people making noise when he was trying to sleep was abnormal.

Not entirely unpleasant. The shifting of fabric followed by water hitting tile was soft, and slightly muffled by the walls between them. But it was comforting, and the sound rhythmic humming that Freed indulged in as he stepped under the water sent a slight shiver down his spine. It had been a while since he'd worked with other people, and the eclectic mess of sounds that accompanied their movements had been missing in Gajeel's life for a while.

He didn't think too much about it, and instead buried his face in the pillow further, a little smile on his face.

——

Gajeel had known Freed was a powerful mage.

The first time they had met one another, if you wanted to call what happened at the festival a meeting, Freed had filled Magnolia with unbreakable rune traps. Though he had been kept in the Cathedral, Gajeel had both seen and heard stories about how many runes had been placed and how complex the traps had been. So clearly he was a powerful man with a lot of magical potential, but he was apparently a genius with his power as well.

For his half of the training, Freed was going to use a 'Simulation Program'. He had explained he had created a selection of runes that would create a training environment made for their specific needs. Apparently it was a complex system that Freed had used many times to push himself.

"So, when we both place our hands on the column, my runes will create a simulation designed to improve our teamwork," Freed explained, motioning to a shaft of runes in the middle of his basement.

"And you ain't gonna be controlling it?" Gajeel asked, looking at the runes with a slight tilt in the head.

"No, the program essentially has a mind of its own," Freed explained, placing his hand on the column without hesitation. The runes seemed to glow under his touch. "I can cancel it, of course, should it get too intense or if the simulation just isn't working out. But so far it's always been an achievable task and always helped me with training."

"You got any idea what it'll be like?" Gajeel asked, stepping towards the runes.

"Not at all," Freed had a near giddy look on his face; like Natsu before a fight. Maybe he was more Fairy Tail like than Gajeel thought. "When you're ready."

Gajeel shrugged, placed his hand on the column, and allowed it to take some of his magic.

Eight walls of runes suddenly lurched upwards, glowing and dripping with magic. The basement seemed to fall away, replaced by pristine whiteness that seemed to be like a void. Gajeel knew he hadn't been teleported - the teleportation had felt different - so clearly they were still in the basement, but the reality of the room had changed. Gajeel looked to the side; Freed could literally create runes that could change the world around him. All whiteout breaking a sweat.

What would he be able to do without the runes keeping his demon contained?

The thought was gone as quickly as it came. On one of the eight walls, letters began to form as if written from fire. They weren't runes - Freed's runes were square and angular, these letters were more flowing and rounded - and Gajeel didn't have a damn clue what it said. He glanced towards Freed again, to see an expression of open confusion.

He scrunched up his nose when he was confused. Hah.

Before either man could say anything, a wall of magic appeared before them in a language that both Gajeel and Freed could read.

'To finish the simulation, you must complete two tasks. One mental, one physical. These tasks will bring you closer together and highlight your potential as a team.

Task One: Translate the Words and Speak Them Aloud.'

"Yer good with languages right?" Gajeel murmured. "Should be easy."

"This language is incredibly old," Freed frowned, walking to the wall where the statement was written. "Frankly, I've never seen it before. I wouldn't know where to start."

"Yer magic knows things you don't?" Gajeel frowned.

"Apparently."

This wasn't the type of thing that Gajeel could help with, so he leant on one of the walls and decided to watch as Freed worked. The other man was scribbling things down on a wall of runes that he's created which seemed to only allow for writing. He still had his nose all scrunched up while he was thinking, and he kept tucking his hair behind his ear when it fell. It was funny to think this was the same man who had gone primal and all jungle-man the day before.

He really had misjudged Freed, hadn't he? Now he knew the demon had been affecting his mood - and knew how to ignore that influence - it was easy to agree that Freed was powerful. Hell, maybe if they hadn't gotten off to such a bad start, they would have been good teammates.

They could still, that's what the point of the simulation was, right? To bring them together.

Gajeel didn't know how giving Freed a task that Gajeel would be no help with might bring them together, but the simulation seemed pretty impressive so far. He let his gaze fall on the untranslated words again, and actually looked at them this time. It still looked like a selection of random lines, and Gajeel nearly gave up and went back to watching Freed again. It was only when he saw a familiar spiral looking shape in with the rest of the lines that he realised how this was meant to bring them closer.

"Fuck," Gajeel cussed, and Freed immediately looked towards him. "It's Draconic."

"Draconic?" Frred said incredulously. "That language has been dead for millennia. You know it."

"No," Gajeel shook his head. "Well, not really. Even when I was a kid there was no point in learning it since it was forgotten by everyone but the dragons. Metalicana, he was basically my father, insisted that I be able to write my own name in my language," He walked to the writing and pointed at the single spiral. "That's an 'A', I could never get that right. Pa used to yell at me, so I remember it."

"You don't happen to remember the rest, do you?"

"Not of the top of my head," Gajeel spoke under his breath. "Can I use that writing rune thing?"

"Of course," Freed said, making a motion. The small slab of runes that Freed had been scribbling on flew towards him, and Gajeel sat cross-legged on the floor like he had when he was a kid. Suddenly, he felt like he was back in the fields where he had grown up, writing with chalk on stone under his Pa's instructions. He didn't often think about his youth; it was nice.

His arm moved without him thinking. Writing his name was muscle memory, and the familiar pattern of lines that was his name in Draconic quickly was printed on the runes. It had been years since he had seen it. It was nice.

He couldn't dwell on it. He certainly couldn't get emotional about it.

"I'm pretty sure it's similar to how we write. There's a letter for A, a letter for B and so on," Gajeel murmured a little. "Give me a second."

He wrote his name normally under the Draconic counterpart, showing what each letter's counterpart was. Freed made quick work of finding all the letters of Gajeel's name in the statement written on the wall. On the wall there was one G, one A, three E's, one L, four R's, one D, two F's and three O's. Not enough to find out what the statement was, but it was a starting point. Freed had immediately began trying to look for patterns in the letters they already knew, hoping to reverse engineer the alphabet. By the look of frustration on his face, it didn't seem to be working.

"You need help?" Gajeel asked, taking a step towards Freed. "Anything I can do?"

"Did your father only teach you how to write your name?" Freed asked, and Gajeel found it oddly comforting that Freed didn't seem off put by the fact Gajeel called a literal dragon his father. "Is that the only link to your Draconic ancestry you have? Do you know any history? It might help."

Well Gajeel could do that.

Years worth of history lessons seemed to spew out without Gajeel thinking. Everything from how dragons used to live, to the nesting patterns of hatchlings, to everything else that Gajeel had thought had left his head years ago. Once he started talking it felt like he couldn't stop, and Freed didn't seem to want him to. It was kinda nice to be able to talk about his past openly; the only other people who might have understood were Natsu and Wendy. They already knew everything, Freed didn't.

Once Gajeel had run out of things to say, Freed asked him more about the nesting patterns. Gajeel went through it all again, and inadvertently explained the types of mountains Dragons used to nest in. From this, Freed figured out which continent the Dragons lived on, and what cultures developed from Draconic influence. Somehow, he managed to reverse engineer the Draconic alphabet from that of a language currently in use.

Gods, how did the man's mind work?

"There's good news and bad news," Fred eventually said, looking back at Gajeel. "We've translated it, but it seems my magic has an agenda of sorts."

Before Gajeel could ask what that meant, Freed motioned for his writing runes to fly towards him. It was incredibly weird, and funny, seeing just how bad Freed's handwriting was, but he quickly ignored that. As much as he wanted to make fun of the man for his near incomprehensible writing, they weren't close enough to say things like that to one another.

Hm. Gajeel had kind of forgotten he was nervous about his relationship with Freed for a moment.

Rather than fixating, he looked down to the runes again and saw what Freed had translated. He grinned a little when he saw what they had to say to progress; Freed's magic did have an agenda, and didn't seem to be very subtle.

"We gotta say it at the same time?" Gajeel asked.

"I expect so," Freed agreed. A moment later, they both spoke.

"Our similarities outweigh our differences."

With a flurry of movements, the runes glowed and the room shifted around them. The words on the walls disappeared, and a small metal rod rose up from the ground. A metre away from the metal rod, a spark of lighting appeared in the air, flicking with powerful magic. A moment later, the instruction appeared in front of them both.

'Task Two. Conduct the electricity from the lighting into the metal rod. Touching the lighting will fill you with enough pain to render you unconscious, meaning you have failed the simulation.'

"Shit," Gajeel whispered. "Yer runes can be brutal."

"They're usually not quite so bad," Freed mused, walking towards the lightning and inspecting it, though not closely enough to touch it. "I intended the simulation to make us work well as a team. I suppose after the way we have been treating one another for the past few days, my magic believed we need something intense to bring us tougher."

"Guess so," Gajeel mumbled, a little guiltily. He was responsible for that. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Freed dismissed, seemingly fascinated by the challenge. "Honestly, I think the challenges are aimed at challenging my preconceived ideas about you. I had written you off as an idiot who could only utilize your fists, so my magic put us in a situation where you would talk about something you're well versed in and passionate about," Freed was still looking at the spark, a little wistful in his expression. "Frankly, the way you described your culture was beautiful. It certainly destroyed any ideas I had about your mind being anything but… well, wonderful."

Gajeel flushed a little at the compliment, looking away. He wasn't great when people said good things about him, and he tended to deflect when it happened.

"So, yer magic worked. We respect each other at least now, right?" Gajeel said gruffly, Freed nodded. "Other than respect, the only thing I need to work well with another guy is trust. So, guess this is made to make us trust each other."

Freed hummed a little, and his nose scrunched up again.

Fuck, it was kinda cute.

"Say, hypothetically, that this lightning didn't cause you any pain," Freed mused aloud, glancing between the spark of lighting and the metal rod. "Would you be able to use your magic to transform your body into a conductive metal. So you could stretch your fingers from the spark to the rod and have the current pass through you?"

"Yeah, I think so," Gajeel shrugged a little. "Don't exactly wanna touch it if it'll knock me out. Had enough of that this week," He had spoken before thinking, and Freed averted his gaze. "Shit I didn't mean to say that."

"No, no. It's fair," Freed said passively, but didn't seem to believe his words.

"Why'd you ask anyway?" Gajeel asked, trying to avert the topic.

"I've crafted runes that will lessen the effect of lighting magic, a necessity of working with Laxus," Freed explained, looking at the spark again. "If you're correct and this is to make us trust one another, then perhaps it's as simple as you using your magic to make a metal bridge between source and the rod, and you have to trust that my runes will stop you from hurting."

"Guess it makes sense," Gajeel agreed, frowning. "You sure it works?"

"It has worked against every type of lightning I've used it to deflect from before," Freed said, looking to Gajeel. "I can't promise that it will work, though. This is made of my magic, not natural lightning, so there's no way of knowing for sure yet."

Gajeel thought for a moment, before stealing himself and shrugging. "Fuck it, we ain't got any other ideas. Lay it on me."

Freed moved to stand behind Gajeel, and a moment later a cold hand was pressed against the back of his neck. He heard muttering in a language he didn't know, then the familiar feeling of magic rolling down his skin. The sensation of a rune on his skin was unknown to him - a rune not meant to hurt him anyway - and it sent a slight shiver down his spine. Maybe that was just because Freed was cupping his neck; it was a part of his body that people didn't often touch, after all.

A sheen of magic flowed over his skin, and Gajeel watched as his body flowed purple for a second. The spell was obviously completed, as the magic seemed to seep into his skin, but Freed still kept his hand on Gajeel's neck.

"You gonna let go?" He asked with a frown.

"No. If my rune fails, we should share the pain," Freed's tone left no room for argument.

"It's yer funeral," Gajeel mumbled.

He placed his hand on the iron rod, covering his skin with his iron. Slowly, he extended one of his hands towards the flickering sparks of lighting, wincing a little as it got closer. He really fucking hoped Freed's runes worked, because even after Wendy had come by to heal him, Gajeel wasn't fully recovered. Another bout of unconsciousness would only make things worse.

With a flinch, he forced his metallic digit into the lightning. It didn't hurt as such, more like a tingle that spread through him and perhaps Freed. The lightning passed across him, into his hand, and lit the metal rod up. The room turned green.

"Guess it worked," Gajeel grinned a little, turning to Freed.

When he turned, he was taken aback by the sight of the other man. Freed was hot, Gajeel hadn't bothered to hide that even when they were arguing, and he was handsome too. But when he was smiling a victorious smile, a slight magical haze in his eyes, expression equal parts cocky and satisfied, he looked fucking beautiful. The glow of the purple runes illuminated his pale skin, made his eyes shine, and made Gajeel damn near breathless.

He was staring at him, and suddenly something fell into place. He had wondered what would take the place of the antagonism between them, and suddenly an option was shown to him. Freed was now sexy, handsome and beautiful. He had a scrunchy nose, hummed in the shower, and had a wild side.

"It did," Freed's voice, which sounded like honey now Gajeel paid attention, cut through his thoughts. "Thank you for trusting me, Gajeel."

"Ain't a problem, Pretty-Boy."

The slip of the tongue made Gajeel freeze. Freed didn't comment on it, but Gajeel didn't miss the slight upturn of his lips. Fuck he had a pretty smile, didn't he?

Gods dammit.

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

True (Lucifer SPN)

Pairing: Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader Words: 1.5k+ Warning(s): Shapeshifter, a lil bit of angst, some heated stuff ehehe A/N: Im rewatching Supernatural and it rekindled my love for Lucifer. What is it with me and Lucifer ahaha. I hope you guys enjoy~

-----

You grunted and winced, the fabric bag that was over your head ripped off your head. There standing in front of you was a damn Shapeshifter with your damn face. They smirked at you as you struggled against the ropes binding you. You were on a case alone that was supposed to be a simple salt and burn, and it was. But apparently the shifter in town caught wind that a hunter was in town. The guy who spoke to you before you left town at the gas station must've been the shapeshifter; before you became his new face. He was the last person you saw before blacking out. You looked around and pieced together you were in some sort of basement.

"Wakey-wakey, (Y/N)." He chuckled. "My, my... To get ahold of someone who is so close to the Winchesters. I must've won the lottery!"

"If you know anything about them you would know you can't fool them." You snarled back.

"I am currently learning everything about you." He tapped your forehead, "I already know juicy details about Sam and Dean and oh! The bunker too. I'll pay them a little visit and kill them in their sleep~." The shifter walked away from you, slipping your hunting bag over their shoulder. "I left you some food and water, can't have you dying on me! Toodles!" He chucked your knife close by you before leaving the basement.

You smirked to yourself, seems like your imposter hasn't learned everything about you yet. Like how you were in a relationship with the Lucifer, your soulmate. You had to stop yourself from praying to him, just in case the shifter would be able to access that. If the boys didn't figure it out soon enough, Lucifer would definitely tell the difference. You felt almost sick that a shifter took on your face, you just hope they would stopped in time.

You maneuvered the knife your doppelganger tossed you to your tied up hands, and slowly you began cutting away at the ropes. When the ropes were cut off you immediately started looking for a way out. The only window to the outside was way too small for anyone to enter or exit.

"Damn." You growled. You walked to the door, just in case there was a slim chance it was left unlocked; it wasn't. You sighed and attempted to kick it down, didn't work. "There has to be something the dumbass left around."

You sighed and began your search through out the basement, hoping this would all be over soon.

-----

Shapeshifter you pulled into the garage around 10pm and smirked. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to get ahold of you; one of the closest people to the all too well known Winchester brothers. He felt all too confident that he could trick the two easy-peasy. He locked the car and strode into the bunker, a cocky smirk was on his, technically yours, face.

'All I have to do is wait until they fall asleep.' He found his way to the library of the bunker and there were Dean and Sam, not suspecting a thing. The two looked up from their laptops and grinned.

"How was the hunt, (Y/N)?" Dean asked.

"Pretty easy. The ghost didn't stand a chance against me." Shifter-You grinned and sat down at the table with them.

"Good you got back in time, we found a big hunt about 3 hours from now and we want to go first thing tomorrow. We also want to bring your boyfriend too, we may need his help with some things." Sam passed over the newspaper article of whatever they want to hunt. The Shifter mentally cursed at the fact you had a boyfriend, he hadn't had enough time to learn more about you.

"Sounds good." He gulped as he scanned over the paper. He carefully eyed the two brothers as they continued talking about a game plan for the hunt and he hoped more of your memories would become accessible to him. "Well I am going to my room and catch up on some sleep, see you both later!"

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." They both waved and he got up from his seat.

"There is my one and only favorite human!" A voice the shifter didn't recognize shouted behind him. He turned around, ready to act like you, but practically froze on the spot.

'This bitch is dating Lucifer?' He internally screamed and put on his best (Y/N)-esque smile.

"Hey there, babe~" He continuously began silently freaking out when the Devil leaned in and kissed the shifter-yous forehead. Did he successfully trick the infamous fallen angel?

"You look scrumptious." Lucifer smirked.

"Ugh get a room you two." Dean grunted, causing the shifter to turn and face him.

"Don't worry Dean, there won't be anymore PDA."  Lucifer wrapped his arms around the shifter, his arms tightening. "Because this isn't (Y/N)."

"What the hell?" Both Dean and Sam grabbed their guns, keeping them at the ready.

"Lucifer w-what are you talking about?" The shifter paused for a second before struggling with all his might to break free from the practically bone crushing hug from Lucifer but he couldn't.

"Demon?!" Sam shouted.

"Nope, a shapeshifter." Luci smirked, his eyes shifting to red. "Oh you are so going to regret shifting into my (Y/N)."

"If you harm me I won't tell you where they are!" The shifter tried to bargain.

"Are you stupid or dumb? I am archangel Lucifer, I will find (Y/N)."

"Why do you want to find that bitch anyways? They think of you as a monster, Lucifer." The shifter snarled. "I have access to all their memories and thoughts. You disgust them, repulse them even. They think you are nothing. The mere thought of you touching them makes then want to burn their skin on off-"

"Shoot them, they bore me." Lucifer sighed and shoved shifter you forward. Before the shapeshifter tried running, both Dean and Sam landed two fatal shots with silver bullets. Your body fell to the ground with a thud... And the shifter was dead. The Winchesters eyed Lucifer carefully but his face was unreadable.

"Uh are you okay, Lucifer? They were saying some pretty harsh stuff as (Y/N)."

"That was rookie stuff." He shrugged his shoudlers. "Take care of this while I go find (Y/N)."

-----

You sighed and slumped against the pillar you were once tied to. It had been hours since the 'evil you' left and you were feeling exhausted. Your search for a way out was futile, but you had high hopes for a rescue. You figured that the Shapeshifter should be at the bunker by now, so you were pondering your choices.

"Ah fuck it." You closed your eyes and began concentrating, preparing to pray to Lucifer.

'Lucifer-'

The sound of fluttering wings made you snap open your eyes, Lucifer was standing right in front of you. He grinned and held out a hand, which you gladly took, and he immediately pulled you into an embrace.

"I knew you would know." You buried your face into his chest, hugging him tight.

"I will always know who the real you is. Now let's get you home." You felt the usually spinning when Lucifer teleported and next thing you know, you were in the bunker library.

"Where's the brothers?"

"They are taking care of the Shapeshifter. Let's go to our room." He took hold of your hand and you both walk down the hallway to your room. You watched Lucifers carefully, you can tell there was something wrong and you knew it had to do something with the shifter.

You arrived to your shared room with Lucifer. Once the door was closed you pulled him into a deep, emotional kiss; your body pressed against his. You break away and stared deeply into his eyes, placing a hand on his cheek.

"I am sorry if shifter-me said anything to you, Luci." You sigh,"What happened?"

"Why are you apologizing? It wasn't you." He lead you to the bed to sit down. "That shifter said you hated me basically, that I am disgusting. And watching "you" die was something else."

"Aw Lucifer, I love you with all my being and I hope you know that I could never see you as a monster." You wrap your arms around his shoulders and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Now, I was stuck in a dusty, dirty basement all day. I think a shower with my favorite Devil~"

"Oh I like the way you think." He smirked. "Let's get those restricting clothes off.~"

"No need to tell me twice." You maneuvered and now you were straddling Lucifer, you ran your hands through his sandy blond hair. You felt his hands go to your hips, and slowly they made their way to your back. His hands slid under your shirt, the light and gentle touches made you shiver.

"My favorite human, my soulmate, my love." Lucifer murmured in your ear before he kissed your neck. He held you tight while he left little hickies along your collarbone.

You felt pure happiness in that moment with your soulmate Lucifer.

[lizzie-tempest]

((First of all, thank you for placing my order !!)

Hello again, I am the Anon person who requested a order Yandere! Sans and Vampire! Reader, I have a new order with the same context, could use the same Sans and also others if I want, of course.

What happens if the reader and Sans were just friends, but of course Sans has already declared himself to the reader but every time he always rejects them because he always saw them as his friends... And one day the reader goes away and disappears because people start to suspect the reader (because they don't age or change). What happens next?

Hi! Thanks for the ask. I don’t get many so I try and answer any I get to the best of my ability. Sorry it took so long.

I admit, I got a little confused with the wording here haha. If I’m right, then Sans has confessed to the Reader, but they just see him as a friend? Did I get that right? Sorry if I didn’t ^^;

Anyway, onto the ask! Gonna use the same Sanses from before and imagine that they know that Reader is a Vampire if that’s okay.

Undertale Sans

When you don’t show up at your usual haunts for a few days, he thinks that maybe you’re sick.  But you’re a Vampire, you don’t get sick.  A quick stop at your house (yes he teleports inside) and he immediately becomes concerned.  He worries that the humans have found out that you’re a Vampire and have had you killed.  He’s furious and wants to unleash hell.  You may see him as a friend, but he still loves you with everything he has.  

He’s about to leave, with every intention of making the streets run red with blood.  But then he notices how your house is...emptier than usual.  There are still things there, but when he looks in your room, it looks like someone has packed in a hurry.  

You left?  Where did you go?  Why didn’t you tell him?  Did he do something to upset you?  

Then he finds a hastily scribbled note addressed to him.  After reading it, he’s even more furious.  The humans drove you away.  You had to leave because they were suspecting something was wrong.  

But...if the humans who suspected something weren’t here...you could come back, right?  

He starts laughing manically, planning to take out each of the humans who could cause harm.  He’d definitely make sure that it won’t lead back to him or you.  And once the dust has settled and the blood is spilled, he will come for you.  He will find you and bring you back.  

This will prove to you that he can protect you!  Then you’d have to be with him!  You would love him for sure!  He’d make sure that you never had to leave him again.

Underswap Sans

You’d be trying to settle down in a new place far away when he suddenly shows up on your doorstep, grinning widely and baby blue eyelights formed into stars.  

“(Y/N) I KNEW I COULD FIND YOU!” 

He sweeps you up into a big hug, leaving absolutely no room for you to break free.  When you ask him why he looked for you, he turns on the waterworks.  Don’t you like him anymore?  After hastily explaining the situation, his grin turns sly.  It’s only then that you notice the drops of blood on his clothes, his bandana, his gloves, his skull.  

“What did you do...?” you ask hesitantly.

It turns out, that he didn’t need you to explain the situation.  He already knew.  He’d overheard some humans talking about a “suspected Vampire” and instantly knew that it was you they were talking about.  He knew that you would’ve recognized any signs of being suspected and ran away.  He’s not stupid and he’s definitely not as naive as most people think. 

 So he pretended to make friends with these humans, said he wanted to help get the Vampire.  He convinced them that he knew where you were and then led them to an old abandoned warehouse.  It didn’t take long to dispose of them.  

They didn’t even see it coming.  And he even pinned the murders on that super mean neighbour of yours!  So it’s okay!  You don’t have to worry anymore!  You can come back with him!  Wait, why are you looking so afraid?  

Underfell Sans

When he first finds your note and reads about why you left, he’s left a little insulted.  He’s one of the strongest and scariest monsters around.  Did you not think he could protect you if you really needed it?  A lot of your belongings that you left behind get destroyed in the rage he unleashes as a result.

It’s only when he starts to calm down that he really thinks about how you might be feeling.  You’d be feeling scared and insecure.  You wouldn’t be thinking straight.  And even though he loved you with all his soul, you still saw him as a friend.  You wouldn’t be relying on him as a mate, so of course you wouldn’t go to him for protection.

He searches day and night for you.  You’re the only good thing in his life.  He doesn’t have anything else to live for.  There is no way in hell that he is letting you go.  

And if that means that when he finds you, he has to kidnap you and keep you locked up in his basement, then he’ll do it.  You don’t have to worry about food.  There are ton of humans who he hates and is more than happy to get rid of so that you can survive.  And covering up their disappearance is only too easy.  

He’s had plenty of practice after all.

Horrortale Sans

He worries terribly when he can’t find you for days.  You don’t answer your door, you’re not answering your phone...It’s like you’ve completely vanished overnight and he doesn’t like it.  It makes him feel far too uneasy.

He’s in the butcher’s shop picking up a meat order when he overhears the butchers discussing a rumour going around.  A rumour about a person who never seems to age, who can only be a Vampire.  

His soul goes still and his eyelight vanishes.  There’s only one person they can be talking about.  It’s you.  It had to be you that they were talking about.  They knew your secret.  

Was this why you were gone?  It had to be.  You’ve done this song and dance enough times to know when people would start to get suspicious.

He’s left before he even realizes.  He doesn’t care that he’s left his food for now.  He can come back later.  He has some preparing to do.

He spends weeks building a cabin in the middle of the woods.  He makes it to your liking, ensures it’s sturdy and warm.  Everything you could want.  And when it’s ready, he starts his search for you.  

It takes him a while.  A lot of people don’t want to talk to monsters in general, let alone a giant skeleton with a gaping hole in his skull.  But he DOES find you.  

You’re not doing well.  You haven’t been able to make any friends, and people are already seeming to be suspicious of you.  Word seems to have travelled from your old home about the Vampire.  No one will talk to you.  You can’t get close enough to anyone to feed and you’re getting weaker.

That’s how he finds you.  His soul shudders with delight when you practically fall into his arms, sobbing with relief at seeing a friendly face after all this time.  He soothes your tears, tells you he understands why you left and that everything will be okay.  He has a plan.

He takes you to the cabin and you have to admit that it’s a great plan.  It’s far from any town, no one is going to stumble across it by accident.  The forest provides you with enough freedom to do your thing and the cabin is certainly comfortable.  It’s great!

But you miss going into the town.  And although the giant skeleton gets you whatever you need from there, it’s just not the same. You tell him that you want to try wandering.  Just to see if anyone has forgotten the incident.

He laughs and you start to feel uneasy.  Is he okay?  Before you can say anything, he’s shoved you back into the cabin and locked it.  You try to get out but he’s created some kind of barrier.  You’re not getting out.

“heh.  mine.”

[horrordirtbag]

my theories on why Jason didn’t go home after drowning & peeking into his brain

Ok so people always act like the Friday the 13th continuity is an incomprehensible mess which always annoys me because it really isn’t, but there are a few things that aren’t ever really explained. Most of it’s pretty small shit only super fans argue over, like how Jason got home from Manhattan or if he can teleport or not

But there is one thing that is never explained or even addressed in any of the 12 movies: why Jason never went home, and admittedly it remains the series’ only big plothole

Part 2 puts clear emphasis on the fact that Jason’s body was never found in the lake (which was mentioned in p1), and that he spent the rest of his life living alone in the woods. But, why wouldn’t Jason just go home if he didn’t die?

Well, after pondering this in the shower, I’ve come up with a few theories that I think are pretty satisfactory. In short, I find that there are only 3 general explanations as to why he didn’t:

1. voodoo supernatural shit

2. He didn’t want to; the woods offered him a newfound freedom that his past life couldn’t.

3. He couldn’t

and now I’ll break them down more (there is some light sexual abuse stuff mentioned below so be warned)

This will also double as a deep dive into Jason’s brain lol

Ok, so first of all the voodoo shit. This is my least favorite and I only put it in there for necessity. Basically, this is shit like the deadite theory or other weird JGTH nonsense. Y’all probably already know I hate that theory, but there are other ways involving the supernatural that might work, mostly revolving around Crystal Lake’s vague death curse. But this generally goes against the notion that part 2 sets up so I’m not going to dwell on it.

Second of all, maybe he didn’t want to. This could be for a number of reasons, but the way I see it, while yes Jason loves his mother, returning home to her would mean returning to being the outcast again, to being bullied and neglected. Here, in the woods, he’s not an outcast anymore. He’s free. The woods are his world now, where he can do whatever he want and forget the world that betrayed him.

Then there’s also the possibility that may be kind of taboo for this franchise, but maybe Jason was actually mad at his mother. Or maybe not mad, but he felt betrayed by her, too. When we see Jason drown in part 1, he’s crying for his mother, and of course she never came. She was the only one that loved him, the only one that protected him, and she wasn’t there when he needed her the most. Now, obviously this is because Pamela was working in the cafeteria and couldn’t hear him, but little Jason wouldn’t know this. All he would know is that the one person who loved him never came. 

Now, fast forward to 1979, and Jason watches his mother kill to avenge him. It’s the first time in 20 years that he sees that his mother did care, that she was doing all of this for him. He might even begin to feel guilty for causing her all that pain. And then, of course, seeing her die shortly after would send him over the edge. When he realizes someone out there did love him, they’re taken away. The world has been nothing but cruel to him just for being different, and all that sadness turns into anger.

Sure, there were a few times before then that Pamela tried to avenge Jason, those first 2 murders in 58, poisoning the water and setting a few fires, but it’s possible Jason didn’t witness those since they were much smaller occurrences, and also his mom didn’t give a hefty monologue at the end lol

Now... third of all.... maybe Jason physically could not. And this could also go in a number of ways. But, let’s take this from the beginning. Crystal Lake, from what we know, is a very rural place. The main part of town seems to be pretty damn far from the actual lake. So, little 11 year old Jason probably would’ve gotten lost, and would’ve had to learn how to survive in the woods, and if he came across anyone he probably would’ve been too afraid to approach them because yknow... no one ever loved him. 

Granted, though... this would only account for the first few years of Jason’s woodland life. In a few years tops, Jason probably would’ve figured out a way home, unless Pamela moved out of town. Which is why I think it’s most likely a combination of this and what I talked about above. After learning how to live in the woods for a few years, he might’ve grown to like it compared to his old life, so by the time he learns how to get out, he might choose not to.

So that brings me to my final explanation, and this is really just a completely out of left field fan theory. Everything else I’ve tried to keep as close to canon as possible without taking too many liberties, but for this final theory, maybe Jason was kidnapped. Held hostage in some perverts basement for years after he drowned. Maybe that was his first kill when he escapes, maybe that’s why he hates sex (an idea I’m usually against cuz I don’t see any reason for Jason to hate sex, but in this scenario it would make sense). He could’ve been held captive up until the 70s.

But that’s a very extreme fan theory. Personally, I think it’s that Jason didn’t want to. He embraced his new found freedom... and then felt nothing but guilt for it when he watched his mother die. 

So, the overall point of this post besides an obsessed fan thinking way too deeply into a slasher franchise? I guess to explain that, while yes it is a plothole, it is one that can be reasonably explained. It seems unlikely at first, but the more you think about it the more sense it makes, at least to me it does.

I also want to add, I think this element of mystery is pretty fun. Sure it’s a result of script writers not caring too much, but it adds to that urban legend feeling. The mystery is endearing and I find trying to explain them is very fun for fans

So if anyone actually read all of this, let me know what you think, or if you have your own ideas

[7-wonders]

Season of the Witch

Summary: While you’re attempting to survive being kidnapped by a coven of vengeful witches, Michael is not taking your disappearance well. Like, at all.

Word Count: 3082

A/N: Welcome to the trash heap (aka another chapter of Mad Love). Hope everybody is safe and relatively happy right now in the midst of these turbulent times. If you ever just need someone to chat with, I’m always willing to lend an ear.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16

Much like the first time you were taken against your will, you wake up feeling like you’ve just taken a long nap instead of regaining consciousness after being knocked out. Lights shine harshly on your face, forcing you to squint your eyes while you take in your surroundings. The room is small, with no windows to be seen. You think you might be in a basement of some kind, especially with the pipes running along the ceiling. There’s not much for furnishings, just a couple of chairs at one end of the room and the threadbare mattress that you’re settled on. When you try to stand to further examine the room, a heaviness on your left ankle makes you look down and realize that you’re shackled to the floor. At least the Satanists had the decency not to chain you up when they kidnapped you.

“Hello?” you shout, walking as far as the chain will allow you to go towards the door. “Is anybody out there?”

It’s difficult to fully remember what happened before you ended up here. You’re only able to see flashes of scenes; a deer, slamming on brakes, crawling on the damp ground, and four women. You’re supposed to have a sizable cut on your forehead, but prodding the skin reveals no blemish of any kind. Did you just imagine the crash and your injury, or have you been out for longer than you thought?

You’re startled when two of the women you had seen in the woods appear in the room without the door opening. The blonde with kind eyes and the redhead who’s dressed like your elderly grandmother’s floor lamp stand across from you, both staring as they attempt to learn what your move will be.

“Who are you people? Where did you take me?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant, but you really can’t be blamed.

“Why don’t you have a seat (Y/N)? We can further discuss what’s going on, and talk about getting you unchained.” You narrow your eyes, but sit on the mattress since you’re not exactly in a position to be arguing. “My name is Cordelia Goode, does that sound familiar to you?”

“No, should it?”

Cordelia pulls a chair closer to you before sitting down, but the other woman remains standing. “I was just trying to gather the extent of your knowledge on the situation. What do you remember before ending up here?”

“I was,” you pause, the argument that you and Michael had making you huff angrily, “there was a deer that ran out in front of me when I was driving, and I lost control of my car and crashed.”

“I do apologize for that. We weren’t aware of how much it had rained, or else I would have never conjured that illusion. The crash was not something we were planning on.”

“Wait, you made me crash my car?” It only takes a second for you to connect the dots. “Holy shit, you’re witches!”

You don’t know if this is good or bad. The witches are Michael’s enemies, which means they took you for a reason. However, you didn’t need rescuing from Michael; it had been almost a year since your arrangement had begun, and you were far from his captive. Although Michael had never outright told you how Ms. Mead came to be an AI, you had snooped in his office one day and found files related to her creation. A descriptive summary of the background told you everything you needed to know about the capture and execution of Michael’s mother figure, with the goal being to weaken Michael’s resolve to carry out his father’s mission. 

Seeing the panic on your face, Cordelia offers you a reassuring smile. “There’s nothing to worry about, you’re safe.”

“Safe? How the hell am I safe? You kidnapped me!”

“You’re not dead, though, which is ‘safe’ in my book.” The other blonde appears now, obviously not pleased at having to be here.

“But you’re planning on killing me.” They glance at each other awkwardly, not sure how to explain their plan. “Oh, don’t act coy now. I know what you did with Ms. Mead. It was only a matter of time before I was next.”

“As of right now, you’re just...a bargaining tool. You’re what will bring Michael to his knees. It’s obvious that our original plan failed, which is why we’re trying a new tactic,” Cordelia says.

“You couldn’t have just sent him an email?” you ask dryly.

“This was more likely to get his attention.”

“Michael’s going to come for me, you know,” you fold your arms across your chest haughtily, “and when he does, he’s gonna be pissed.”

The other blonde smirks as she bends down in front of you, and you hiss when her manicured nails dig into the skin of your cheeks. “Mm, bold of you to assume that he’s going to show up at all.”

“Madison,” Cordelia chastises, yanking the younger woman up.

“Look, I don’t feel the same, but Michael loves me. And though I don’t know a lot about whatever’s going on between you, I do know that Michael hates all of you.”

“But you told him not to contact you for a few days.” Your spine stiffens when you hear a voice that’s all-too familiar, with Mallory completing the quartet that had found you in the woods.

“Mallory,” you whisper in disbelief. “How do…?”

“You got into a fight with Michael and you told him that calling and texting would do no good because you needed to be alone for a couple of days.” 

“You were in on this? You’re a witch?”

Mallory gives a pained nod, filling you with sick pleasure at the knowledge that she’s not enjoying this. “I wasn’t able to--”

“What the fuck, Mallory!” You lunge for her, determined to get your hands on her and show her just how hurt you are, but the chain around your ankle jerks you painfully to the ground. Mallory opens her mouth to speak, but Cordelia’s hand on her shoulder stops the words before they can form.

“Why don’t you leave for a little bit?” You glare at the women, scoffing darkly.

“Yep, run away Mallory, go ahead and do whatever Cordelia tells you to do!” Mallory’s cheeks flush pink, but, just as expected, she teleports out of the room with the other blonde like the woman (her mom? her boss?) asks her.

“(Y/N),” Cordelia turns back to you, “we’re on the same side here. We both want to see Michael fall.”

“What makes you think I want to see Michael fall?”

“Did he not force you to be his wife?” The redhead finally speaks, her eyes looking owlishly large behind her glasses. “You continue to remain married to him under threats, yes?”

“Michael’s my friend,” you insist, “and you’re going to try and kill him. Regardless of how we came to know each other, I care about him. You don’t sit by and watch your friends fall into a trap that’s going to end with them dead.”

Cordelia’s lips tighten to a thin line as she attempts to hold in her anger. “You’ll come around. Come along, Myrtle.”

The remaining witches disappear right as you tug your shoe off, the footwear being flung at nothing but a wall before you let out a yell of frustration.

Days pass without any sign of Michael, a fact that’s not too surprising considering what you told him before you walked out. Still, you enjoy making the witches’ lives a living hell, so when you’re not flinging profanities at them when they bring you food or unchain you so you can use the restroom, you’re reminding them that Michael’s going to come for them. If you’re being honest, you start to say it more to convince yourself than the witches. It’s been five days since you’ve been kidnapped; surely Michael would have tried to contact you now and realized that something’s wrong?

After seven days of being mostly confined to your small room, you start to lose hope. What if Michael just doesn’t come? He could easily decide that you’re not worth the trouble that you bring and leave your fate in the hands of these witches. For all you know, his father could have picked a perfect Satanic bride for him and he could already be creating heirs with wife number two. It’s a dangerous thought spiral, but what else is there to do when you’re trapped in a windowless cell with minimal human contact for days on end?

As day seven draws to a close (you can tell the days have changed by who comes into your cell: Madison Montgomery in the morning with breakfast, Myrtle Snow brings you lunch, and Cordelia Goode tries to glean more information from you over dinner), you lay facing the back wall on your mattress. You’re trying to figure out if screaming in your mind would reach Michael when you hear somebody say your name from behind you. Turning around, you roll your eyes when you see Mallory standing nervously in the center of the room. She hasn’t shown her face since the day you were thrown in here, which means Cordelia must be trying a new tactic.

You roll back over to face the wall, a silent cue that she’s not welcome here. Instead of leaving, which is what you had hoped for, she sighs and sits down on the chair. “You have every right to be mad at me,” Mallory says.

Mallory’s expecting you to yell at her or throw her a sarcastic insult, which is why you choose to remain silent. She’s obviously not expecting that, and you can hear her shifting her weight as she waits in the hopes that you’ll crack before she does.

“If I were in your position, I’d be mad too.” You admire her tenacity at attempting to get you to speak. “I want you to know that I’m sorry for my involvement in this. I don’t regret protecting my sisters, though; Michael is a threat to our coven, and I will do anything to protect my home. But I’m sorry for lying to you, and for spying on you. When I was given this mission, we were all under the impression that you were going to be this devoted Satanist of a wife.

“Instead, I found out that we were completely wrong. You didn’t even want to be married, let alone married to the Antichrist! You stand up to him in a way that I don’t think he’s ever experienced from anybody, and you treat him like he’s a normal person. You’re...so fucking funny, (Y/N), and you’re caring and kind and always willing to do anything for anybody. You’re my friend, and I’m sorry that I abused that trust to continue with this stupid mission when it obviously wasn’t yielding any answers.”

As you continue your silent streak, you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing when Mallory huffs loudly. The legs of the chair squeak harshly against the ground as she abruptly stands, her patience obviously reaching its end.

“Can you at least say something? Anything? Seriously, anything! Yell, scream, curse, whatever! I don’t care what it is, I just want you to say something.”

While you could, quite literally, say ‘something,’ you decide to indulge her. “I think I got over being mad a couple of days ago.”

“You did?” Mallory asks, voice full of hope.

You turn to lay on your back, still refusing to actually look at Mallory. “A couple of weeks after the Satanists kidnapped me and forced me to marry Michael, I came to the realization that it doesn’t do anyone any good to always be angry. Being constantly bitter and resentful comes at a mental and emotional cost, and that’s not the type of person that I am. I can feel other emotions about a person or event without being angry.”

“Let me guess: you’re not mad, just disappointed?” You chuckle before you can stop yourself, shaking your head.

“No. Mainly, I just feel betrayed.” Heartbreak colors her face, but you continue to talk. “It’s like Michael stabbed me in the back, and then you took the knife out before stabbing me in a different spot.”

“I wish I could change this. I never meant for any of this to happen. You shouldn’t be here right now, and Cordelia should never have kidnapped you.”

“You can change it, Mallory. Get me out of here.” She’s visibly torn, and you sigh. “Right, you can’t. Duty to your sisters, and all that.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Just because you keep saying it, doesn’t mean that I forgive you.” You close your eyes. “Can you leave? I want to be alone right now, and I can’t exactly leave in order to be alone.”

Although the last thing Mallory wants is for the conversation to end like this, she’s trying to win back your favor, so she obliges and leaves. You bury your face into the mattress, refusing to let the tears streaming from your eyes see the light of day. 

///

The first couple of days after you had stormed out of the manor, Michael had respected your wish to not be contacted. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed, but the memory of unbridled hurt on your face when the pieces of this puzzle came together was enough to have him setting his phone back down. He would give you your space, even though it pained him immensely.

As the fourth day without any word from you came and went, Michael began to get concerned. While he had been worried about you before, this was different. You’re the type of person who always keeps to their word, and he knows that you should have--would have contacted him by now. Even if it was just a single sentence saying that you needed more time, he would have received a text from you by now.

Thus began a search that Michael was desperately hoping would not be a search. Sure that he was just overreacting, he attempted divination to figure out where you had gone after you left. Although he could just use his powers to find your current location, he knew that would be a breach of your privacy that would only add to the amount of trouble that he’s in with you. Using a stray hair tie that you had left in his office, Michael then watched in horror as the scene of you crashing into a ditch and being stolen away by witches played out like a movie in front of his eyes.

He had found your car, still sitting wrecked in the same spot where it had come to rest after you hydroplaned across the road. Much to his dismay, there were dark splatters on the ground that he just knew were made by your blood. Even worse was the fact that the witches must have put some sort of magical veil over you, as Michael couldn’t find any trace of you after the crash.

The house became a series of war rooms as Satanists streamed in and out of Michael’s office, each leaving more terrified than they could have ever imagined. He’s heard the whispers from his followers that he’s become fully unhinged, and he can’t say he disagrees. It’s been ten days since you disappeared, and Michael can’t recall actually sleeping once in those ten days. There have been occurrences where he’s passed out from exhaustion on top of his desk, but those moments are few and far between.

The only reason he’s not wearing the same clothes from nearly two weeks ago is because of Ms. Mead’s motherly presence refusing to let him waste away to nothing. She sticks annoyingly to a routine, making sure that Michael eats at least three times a day and takes care of himself. It’s hard to do anything, however, when it feels like a piece of himself is missing. It takes him nearly a week to decipher this new emotion, but when he does, he comes to a startling realization.

Michael misses you. He’s never missed anyone before, but the rawness of a gaping hole in his chest where his heart has been figuratively ripped out can only be described as longing. If he wasn’t suffering from sleep deprivation, he would be able to compose poems about all of the things that he misses about you. Mostly, he just misses your constant presence. He’s not only in love with you; you’re his best friend, and having that companionship taken away so swiftly is something that he’s not dealing with well. 

It’s midnight when he’s stirred out of scrolling through pictures you’ve taken of both of you on his phone, a loud knock on the front door echoing through the house. It couldn’t be a Satanist, since they’ve all gone home until tomorrow, and Michael doesn’t know who else knows where he lives. Getting up to answer the door, he’s half-hoping that it will be you knocking. Instead, it’s someone he never would have expected to see.

“You’re (Y/N)’s friend, right? Mallory?” He’s doing a terrible job at pretending like he’s not shocked to see the small brunette standing at the front door, but attempts some form of nonchalance anyways. “Uh, (Y/N)’s actually not here right now. We got into a fight, and now I don’t--”

“I know,” she cuts Michael off, cringing at the surprise on his face. “Look, before you kill me, you need to hear me out.”

“Kill you? Why would I kill you?”

Mallory takes a deep breath in preparation of her potential impending death. “I’m actually a witch, and a member of Cordelia Goode’s coven. I know where (Y/N) is, and I want to help you get her back.”

Michael stares at her, his face refusing to betray how he feels. His hand flexes at his side as Mallory clenches her eyes shut, having heard stories of how the young Antichrist was able to obliterate his victims’ souls with a single glance.

“You had better explain this situation to the letter, as I’m really not in the mood for games lately.” He spins on his heel and walks into the manor, leaving a stunned Mallory standing behind him before she realizes that she should follow, for better or for worse.

//

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[blackypanther9]

Part 49 - Found again

No one’s POV...

After some minutes, Loki came back to reality. Everyone else was also wide awake again. He laid in a bed and groaned.

"What happened ? How long was I gone ?". he asked.

"Just 3 minutes and 45 seconds. Now everyone hurry up ! We don't have much time left !", you answered.

"How long do we still have ?", Frigga asked.

"We have 17 hours, 20 minutes and 10 seconds left ! With complications it will be a disaster."

"How long did we have ?", Sif asked worried.

"We had almost 19 hours, 30 minutes and 45 seconds.", you answered her.

"We were already here for 2 whole hours ?!", Fandral yelled in shock.

"And 10 minutes and 20 seconds. Yes, we were."

You looked at Loki.

"Are you ready to move ?"

"I am, Dest."

"Then let us go. We need to hurry. The hours will be over sooner than we think."

And with that you all started your way again. You were going straight through a dark hallway and then suddenly Loki ran into metal.

"OW !", he yelled.

"Oh ! It was there ! Okay thank you Loki !"

"What was here ?", Thor asked.

"The door to the Library of all knowing. Now come on. I need a strong hand, Thor."

You and Thor went to that door, Loki had ungracefully bumped into, and Thor tried to open it. He put all his strength in opening the door, but couldn't make it.

"I can't open it...", he panted out.

You laughed at him. Thor and the others looked at you in confusion.

"Good ! If you would have been able to open it, it would mean that all the work was for nothing. Hehehehe ! Just my friends and I can open the door.", you then told them.

Loki started to laugh.

"Seems like the Almighty Thor can't even open that door !!", Loki mocked, laughing out loud.

You tsked at Loki.

"Bad Loki. Stop being a big bully.", you said in disappointment.

Then you turned around, turned the knob of the door and opened it. There was a long hallway, out of metal. You went inside first.

"Are you coming or what ?", you asked them after some time.

Everyone hurried inside. You then closed the door and led them through the hallway. After some minutes of complaining and walking, there was another door and you opened it. The first one who gasped in awe was Loki. Of course. He is a book - lover and is now surrounded in billions of different books.

"Welcome to the Library of All Knowing.", you said.

(Belongs to rightful owner !!)

Loki soon went back to reality and looked at you like an excited kid. He went next to you and stared at you.

"What do you want, Loki ?", you asked him amused.

"Can I look around and read a few books ?", he asked you excited.

"Off you go. Shoo and go look around. Read whatever you like.", you told him.

Loki had a bright smile on his face and then stormed off behind some shelves.

"As soon as I call you back, I want you to return in an instant ! Understood Mischief ?!", you called.

"I did ! I will, I promise !", he called back.

"Don't get lost !!"

"Okay !"

Suddenly something fell and crashed down. You snapped your head around and saw a shadow vanish to the left.

"The secret basement...", you mumbled.

You stormed off to the direction, where you saw the shadow vanish. You ran down some stairs and saw the doors open of the secret basement. You creeped down and the heard a battle cry from behind you. You dodged the attack and then looked at the person sharply. You gasped.

"S-Serafina ?", you asked your attacker.

She turned around and glared at you.

"Who are you ?! From where do you know my name ?!", Serafina asked.

"Sera, it's me ! Destiny ! Destiny Andrea Dust ! I unlocked the blocked memories. I can't believe that you are alive ! I am so glad !!"

Serafina let her weapon fall and covered her mouth in shock.

"D-Dest ? Y-you are...YOU ARE ALIVE !!"

Serafina pulled you into a tight hug and sobbed.

"I thought we lost you forever ! Never do this again !"

You hugged her back and chuckled.

"No promises..."

"Destiny...", she warned.

"I can't promise you that. You know it."

Serafina was silent. She knew that you were right.

"I am not alone here. My friends are with me. Loki, Fandral, Volstagg, Laufey, Sif, Hogun, Frigga, Lence, Joe and Thor. Did anyone else survive the war ?"

Serafina looked at you and nodded.

"Scarson, Rexon, me and sadly....Leondra."

Destiny took a sharp inhale.

"Fuck..."

"She is still onto you."

"Well, unholy fuck."

"And she newly masturbates by thinking of you."

"OH HELL NO !!!", you yelled disgusted and mortified.

Serafina cringed at your outburst.

"I already love someone ! But he doesn't know a thing !"

"Who is it ?"

"....Loki Laufeyson. Don't tell him ! We just found out that the helmet, I once created, also made our destinies intertwine. It would sound lied and played."

Serafina nodded softly.

"How are the others ?"

Serafina looked down in sadness.

"Rexon lost both of his legs...And Scarson is slowly turning insane...After you left...he went totally nuts. It was a challenge to get him here."

"I will take care of that. For now, you all have to pack and be ready to leave this planet. I will take the Laboratory and the Library with myself. I will also take you with us and hide you away from Odin and Thanos. Trust me. I hid away from him for over 2 years and I am still hidden."

Serafina looked at you in fear, but nodded and then ran away. To the rest probably.

Now...Let us begin to teleport everything away.

  Shall we ?

Part 50

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