#here we are at last...enjoy your fish mister dark

[dex0s]

Merman

Leorio x male reader

Bondage, “drowning”, kidnapping, obsessing, Aladdin x HunterXHunter crossover, (male reader) calling Leorio princess, (male reader) being mean, not proof read

Intro: Oh no prince Leorio went missing! I wonder what happened… I hope he’s save or at least okay…

Requested?: Yes/No by anonymous

“Okay mister that will be $2.50! And I hope you fish or fishes enjoy the food!” You hand the cashier the money and thanked her. Walk back to your house you overheard interesting conversation.

“Have you heard?” Said the lady with brown hair “Heard what exactly?” Answer the blonde next to her. “The disappearances of prince Leorio! Haven’t you heard about it? It’s all over town.” The brown hair lady points at the missing poster and the guards, “the poor guards have to work overtime to try to find him…”

“Oh that! Yea people said that he was ambush on the way here.” the blonde lady said, “I hope they can find him.”,”me too.” The two lady’s drifts off in the distance.

You thought about what the lady’s said and you also hope that he gets found because who knows what will happen. You continue to walk to the house too finish what you started.

You walk down too your private chambers and open the door to see a young male bound to the wall with metal cuff and a gag in his mouth. He had on a dark blue harem pants with gold around the the waist and ankles, a dark blue and gold trenchcoat with sharp shoulder blades that expose his upper half, and a golden head-piece.

You walk up to the male and lifted up his chin. “Wakey, wakey princess” you shaked the male trying to wake him up faster because you are not a a very patient person. You hear a groan come from him, “princess I hear you it’s time to get up now!”

The male looks around shocked and try’s to said something but falls. “Here let me help you” you take the gag off to let him talk. “Where…where am I a-and who are you! Do you know who ~ahh~ ..I am ~haa~ P-prince Leorio!”, you kneel down with your hands on your face then you slightly turn your head.

“Do you think I care that your ‘prince Leorio’? Because I don’t but~ it does seem like the medicine they gave you is kicking in” you smiled then continue, “but let’s put this gag back on!”

Leorio started to struggle against you and you started to get upset. “If you don’t stop moving Princess and let me put this gag back on.” You told the guards in the back to tighten the chains. when they were done to put the gag over his mouth.

So! Now that we got that done with… Let’s see what choice you will make—~hmm~” you looked at the prince and squinting your eyes then continue to talk. “Okay don’t interrupt me~ahm~ you know what never mind”

You turned the other away and talked about your plan and how Leorio has only two options and he’s moaning in the background...*sigh*, One was he doesn’t accept the proposal and he will get a consequence, the second option is that he accept the proposal and both of them live out there last days together and happy! 

You turned back around to see your “Princess” giving you lovey-dovey eyes. You kneel back down to his height and asked him a question, “so what do you choose?”

You looked into Leorio eye to only notice he’s looking at your lips. You lift up his chin and said “eyes up here pretty boy” smiling at him. 

Leorio snapped out of the trance and violently shook his head no. You forcefully took your hand off his face to get up, look at him, and snarl. “Put him over the water”

At the guards put the prince over the water but become you walked over there you grabbed a necklace.

As you walked up the stairs to him you asked him one more time if this is what he wanted to choose. He shook his head slowly due to the medication taken over.

*sighs* “fine have it your way” you got over to him and as put the necklace on him you talked. “All you had too do was love me back. Yet you choose not too.” You walked down the stairs and continue.

“You could of just pretended and I would have been satisfy… Yet! You choose too be a stubborn brat” you finally get to the last step and turned to Leorio to look straight in his eyes and finally said your last sentence to him.

“So… next time, pick the right choice” you quickly turned your head to the guard holding the rope and gave him the signal and the prince drop in the water.

“Cover the tank before he gets out and pour the fish food in there too.. he may get hungry” you smiled as you saw Leorio in the water fully taken by the medicine.

“Look at my merman, isn’t he beautiful?”





[itsthewritergal]

Don’t you ever forget it - D.M x Weasley!Reader - (ODD ONE OUT)

Can’t believe we’re at part 5 already!! I hope everyone is enjoying this story :) 

xx 

part 1

part 2

part 3 

part 4 

“How was dark arts?” Y/N asked Draco the moment he, Pansy and Blaise sat down on one of the plush leather sofas “Fine why?” Pansy asked “Come on!” She wined “I want to know it all, you got to see a Boggart today” She grinned tugging at Draco’s sleeve in an attempt to make him talk

“You’ve got your lesson tomorrow” Blaise said with a chuckle

“Please Draco” She said looking up at him expectantly “I’ll help you with your homework for a week” She asked hoping to sway him

“You’re a year below me darling, not sure you could be much help” He laughed opening his book and shrugging off his robe and tucking it gently around Y/N

“I’ve read all the care for magical creature books already. I bet I know more than you” Y/N said shaking off his robe with a huff “Lovers tiff?” Blaise grinned

“Don’t be stupid” Draco and Y/N snapped at the same time, then bursting into a fit of laughter

“Please Draco” Y/N said leaning into his side so that she could read the page he was on without having to strain her eyes

“What do you want to know?” Draco asked turning the page once Y/N had nodded to say that she was finished with it

“What was everyone’s boggart? What did you do? Was it difficult? Was it really scary or just a little bit? How do you say the spell prop—”She began

“Okay darling, slow down a little. You’re going to give me a headache” Draco laughed, placing his bookmark in gently closing the book. “Well Pansy’s was herself but she had lost all her wealth and clothes and her name,” Draco paused for a second “Blaise’s was Voldemort, and you just hold up your wand and say the spell, no it wasn’t difficult. It wasn’t too scary and  it’s riddikulus” Draco answered his fingers finding a way into Y/N’s,

“What was your Boggart?” Y/N asked studying Draco’s face as it contorted into a small frown

“I think we should play some exploding snap?” Blaise suggested butting in

“But—” Y/N started

“Good idea” Draco said, Y/N knew the conversation was over.

Y/N played a few games with the others but then opted instead to curl up next to Draco reading his book, she flicked past the pages as they played on. Draco draped his robe back over Y/N, it had become a habit for him. Y/N knew he only did it because she constantly complained about being cold, yet she couldn’t help but wish there was another reason. Draco winced as his hand crashed down on the table jolting his other arm

“Maybe you should stop?” Y/N suggested “You look like you’re in pain” she said gently

“I’m alright” Draco insisted

“Do you have any of that stuff Madame Pomfrey gave you?” She asked

“Run out” Draco said gruffly

“Come on, it’s not curfew yet. I’ll come with you and get some more” Y/N suggested standing up, wrapping Draco’s robe around her shoulders.

“I can go alone” Draco suggested, looking down at the cozy looking girl

“No way! Who doesn’t love strolling around Hogwarts at night. Anyone would say this place is magical” She laughed heading towards the door as Draco said goodnight to his friends.

— — — —

There was barely anyone around a few older students laughing as they headed back to their dorms from the library, a few first years laughing loudly through the halls, but not many people at all.

“Can we walk the outside way? I know it’s longer but the stars are out tonight!” Y/N asked Draco excitedly

“Definitely” Draco agreed although it was only to see the way Y/N grinned up at the stars as she named all the constellations wrong, Draco had taught her a few but she swore that she knew all of them. She didn’t.

“That one looks like a fish” She laughed pointing up  at the sky

“Thats the Bootes constellation darling” Draco said

“I know that one” She exclaimed pointing up to another group of stars “That one is Draco, you showed me that” She said

“You are right about that one” Draco grinned, it was one of his favourite memories of the two of them, it had been one of Y/N’s last nights before christmas and Draco had dragged her up to the Astronomy tower and showed her all the constellations he knew.

Y/N continued walking, they settled into a silence.

“Draco” Y/N started quietly as they reached the end of the courtyard

“Yes Y/N” Draco asked, Y/N turned onto the hallway where the hospital wing was

“What was your Boggart?” She said gently, looking up to Draco with kind eyes “I know Blaise cut in because you didn’t want to tell anyone, and if you don’t want to tell me thats fine but—”

“Maybe another day darling” Draco said quietly “It isn’t something I’m proud of” he admitted

“You don’t have to be ashamed with me” Y/N assured him with a firm smile

“I know, I will tell you one day. But not just yet okay?” Draco said knocking on the hospital wing door “Okay” Y/N smiled

“Mister Malfoy? Is that arm giving you trouble?” Madame Pomfrey asked

“A little” He started

“It’s more than a little, he’s just being stupid” Y/N said giving Draco a warning look for his lie

“Understood Miss Weasley, give me a minute” She said with a chuckle

“You know you shouldn’t lie when it’s hurting you” Y/N Said firmly to Draco

“That’s why I brought you along, you always know what I need to say” Draco grinned

“Does it hurt really bad?” Y/N asked her fingers tracing the sling which had been signed by all his friends. Y/N’s name was in the middle, where Draco had requested it to be.

“I’ve had worse” Draco laughed, Y/N frowned her mouth opening then closing as if she had decided against saying anything. Draco draped his good arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a half hug. Madame Pomfrey appeared again, and placed a vial into Draco’s hand, with a curt nod she turned and Draco and Y/N were left alone again.

“We better get back, we don’t want to get caught past curfew” Y/N said gently.

— — — — — —

“Now as you all already know, today we will be meeting our Boggart’s” Lupin said with a smile, Taylor nudged her elbow, grinning with excitement. Y/N stood towards the back of the class listening intently as Lupin explained the spell and the proper wand movements. Y/N followed along with the tutorial excited to finally find out what her true Boggart really was. She had her suspicions but she wanted to know for sure. Ginny was first the Boggart twisted with a whirling sound and turned into a black diary which lay open with the gruelling face of Voldemort above it, with a shaky voice Ginny spoke the incantation as the Boggart turned into the grinning clown that Y/N recognised from their shared bedroom. Ginny’s friends clapped her on the back, and she smiled proudly as she skipped towards the back of the class. The Boggart turned into spiders, clowns, and voldemort more times than anyone dared to remember, then Y/N stood in front of the black whirling shape.

In an instant the sorting hat sat in front of Y/N.

“You really are a true Slytherin, I never thought I’d see the day a Weasley was a Slytherin. You’re parents must be so disappointed” The hat sneered

“Remember the incantation Y/N” Lupin instructed but the words fell flat inside Y/N’s head

“This is why you don’t go to any family events, they’re ashamed of you. They all hate you. You’re a true Slytherin, destined for evil”

“riddikulus” Y/N said her voice barely above a whisper

“You can do this Y/N” Lupin said gently “Once more”

“Riddikulus” Y/N said stronger this time and the hat spun and turned into the night sky filled with stars, the same one which Y/N and Draco saw last night.

“Well done” Lupin clapped as Y/N moved towards the back of the class, the Gryffindor girls giggled as she stepped towards her sister who turned her back on Y/N.

“Even her boggart knows exactly what she is” One girl snapped, Y/N picked up her books from the desks which had been pushed towards the back of the class and slipped out of the door. Professor Lupin decided against making a bigger deal of what he knew was a sensitive topic.

— — — —

Y/N hadn’t spoke to anyone, not even Draco. She sat picking at her food on the plate in front of her. Draco kept trying to pull conversation out of her but he wasn’t having any luck. Her Boggart had been the topic of conversation on all the house tables, it wasn’t often someone had to live with their worst fear everyday but of course Y/N Weasley was hardly normal.

“Y/N, do you have a minute?” Lupin asked tapping her gently on the shoulder, she nodded and followed him out of the Great Hall. The hallways were practically empty as Lupin lead Y/N down to his office, making small talk which Y/N didn’t feel the need to respond to. She wasn’t trying to be rude, she was just trying to hold her pieces together. Lupin’s office could only be described as comfy, he had two warn down armchairs which he sat himself down in, and gestured to the other one where Y/N sat tucking her legs underneath her and wrapping her arms around her knees.

“I’m sorry” Lupin said,

“What for? I don’t understand Professor” She said

“Having to live your fears every day. That takes some courage and extreme strength” He said with a warm smile, the kind of smile Y/N had seen on her mothers face when she spoke to Y/N’s siblings

“It’s fine, the Boggart got it wrong” Y/N said, she had half convinced herself it was true

“It’s okay, you don’t have to worry about playing part in here. Slytherin isn’t a bad house you know” “How can you say that?” Y/N asked

“You choose your own path, good or bad. A smelly, old hat doesn’t get to tell you whether you are evil or good,” Y/N let out a little laugh “I had a friend when I was at hogwarts, who’s entire family was in Slytherin and he was put into Gryffindor. He did everything he could to trick the teachers, his parents even his friends into thinking that the hat got it wrong, but it never worked. He was one of the greatest wizards I ever knew”

“But he was in Gryffindor, I’d rather it was that way round” She huffed “Everyone thinks I’m evil”

“Come on Y/N do you really think that of yourself? That you’re evil? That you’re destined to turn to voldemort”

“No” She said quietly,

“Then that’s all that matters.”

“How do you do it?” Y/N asked quietly

“do what?” Lupin asked blankly

“I know what you are, how do you cope with the prejudice” She said gently “I know it’s a little different with your condition and mine but how do you do it?” “You have to know exactly who you are and what you stand for” Lupin said with a smile “How did you find out?” He asked curiously

“Charlie gave me a book on werewolves when I was younger, I noticed it after the first full moon. I haven’t told anyone so don’t worry”

“You’re a very smart witch Y/N Weasley. Don’t you ever forget it”

Y/N stood up and left feeling a little bit taller than she had before.

Taglist :)

@whitewineandpizzapuffs

@planet-naptune

@thefandomplace

@sebby-staan

@witch-and-a-half

@nojamsonmytoast

@seanh-boredom

@wanniiieeee

@louweasleymalfoy

@missryerye

Odd one out taglist

@loxbbg

[makayla-angelic]

Helsaween-Week 1-Harvest

Summary: The 1st graders of Arendelle Elementary are going on a Halloween trick or treating at a local pumpkin patch! Hans is excited to go, mostly because he can’t wait to spend time talking to Elsa, a fellow classmate he’s got a crush on. Hans is sure that Elsa likes him back, and he’s determined to impress her in any way he can.

Pumpkin Patch Happenings

One beautiful fall day at Arendelle Elementary, Ms. Simms burst into her classroom with exciting news.

“Guess what class?” she asked, with a smile on her face. “We’re going on a field trip this Halloween to a local pumpkin patch! And that’s not all, there will be games, stories, and trick or treating!”

“Yay!” shouted all the boys and girls. It sounded like fun to them, as they began talking excitedly to one another.

“I’m going to dress up as a monster,” said one boy.

“I’m going to dress up as a mermaid,” said one girl.

Hans tapped his pencil against his head. He didn’t know what he wanted to dress up as. He thought about dressing up as a monster too, but he did not want his other classmates to think he was playing copycat.

“I going to dress up as Cinderella,” said a girl named Elsa with a giggle.

Hans smiled at Elsa. He liked her and found her nice and pretty. But he was shy to talk to her. They had spoken a few times on the playground, but Hans was always so shy. Hans wondered if maybe Elsa liked him too. Maybe at the Halloween field trip they could play games together! Maybe he could win all the prizes, just for her.

Ms. Simms passed out little pieces of paper with the date and the location of the field trip. Everyone in the class couldn’t wait to go! Halloween was still a little over two weeks away, and to all the little boys and little girls in the class, it felt like forever. Hans couldn’t wait to go have fun and talk to Elsa.

When Hans got home, he told his parents excitedly about the field trip.

“That sounds like fun,” said his mother. “We can go get you a costume this Saturday, and see what you like.” Hans nodded his head. He wanted to find the right one.

So on Saturday, Hans woke up, and got dressed, ate breakfast, and Mom took him to the costume store. There were so many costumes to choose from! There were ghosts, goblins, monsters, spiders, orcs, and zombies. Hans walked past all of them and headed towards the back, where all the superheroes and warriors were. He took a knight costume complete with a sword and shield off the shelf.

“You don’t want to be a ghost or a goblin, Hans?” asked his mother. Hans shook his head no. He was too shy to say that he didn’t want to dress up as anything too scary for Elsa when he talked to her. He decided that being a knight would be cooler. So Hans’s mother bought the costume, and when they got home he hung it up on his closet door so that he could see it. He hoped no one else in his class would dress up as a knight.

Another week passed, and it was Saturday again. The day of the Halloween field trip had arrived! Hans could hardly wait. At last, evening was coming, and it was time to get ready. Hans put on his costume, and he and his parents set off to the pumpkin patch. By the time they arrived it was dark, and all the little boys and girls from his grade level were walking around with their parents, looking for their class teacher. Just then, Hans saw Elsa! She was walking up with her parents and younger sister. Elsa was dressed in a beautiful Cinderella costume and tiara that seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. 

“Hi Hans,” said Elsa, waving to him.

“H-hello,” said Hans, waving back shyly.

“I like the knight costume,” said Elsa.

“Th-thanks,” said Hans. “I like yours too.”

Once everyone in Ms. Simms class was lined up, they all followed her to an area where they were going to play their first game. It was bobbing for apples, only a bit more modernized than usual. The apples floating in the water were plastic with a magnet piece on top, and there were little fishing rods with magnet ends on the bottom.

“First person who fishes out the most apples in one minute wins a prize,” said the man in the charge of the game.

“Only three at a time can go,” said Ms. Simms.

Elsa and two other girls were up first. “Ready, set, go!” cried the man, and he started the timer. Elsa and the other two girls rushed to get an apple on the end of their poles, yank it out, take it off, and go for another one. Hans, Ms. Simms, and everyone else cheered them on.

“Time’s up!” cried the man, one minute had gone by so fast!

“Pooey!” cried Elsa, for she did not win, her classmate dressed up as a fairy did. Hans felt sad for her. So, when it was his time to go, he was determined to win.

“Ready, set, go!” cried the man, and Hans and his other two classmates rushed to fish for the apples. When the minute was up, the man yelled to Hans, “You win!” And Hans was happy. The man gave him a little bag of toys as his prize.

When that game was over, Elsa was still feeling a little sad. Hans walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Here,” said Hans, giving her the bag. “Have my prize.”

“Really?” asked Elsa in surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” said Hans.

Elsa grabbed the bag excitedly. “Thank you!” She said.

“You’re welcome,” said Hans with a smile.

The next game they played was bean bag toss. “Whoever scores the most points wins a candy apple.” said the game instructor.

Once again it was three to a station, for there were three bean bag toss boards. Hans and two other classmates were up first, and when the the instructor told them to ready, set, go, off they went, as fast as they could in one minute to make points. This time, Hans did not win, and he tried not to be sad about it. Elsa and two other classmates went up next, and this time, Elsa won! And just like Hans did, as they walked away to the next game, Elsa tapped Hans on the shoulder and he turned around.

“Here you go,” said Elsa, giving the treat to him. “I have candied apples at home.”

“Wow, thank you!” said Hans.

“You’re welcome,” said Elsa.

They played one-legged race, they played tug a war, and they played a guessing game. Hans and Elsa and everyone else were having so much fun! They shared gifts with each other and soon, they had quite the stash! After a long time of playing games, it was time for refreshments. Everyone ate delicious pumpkin spice snickerdoodles and drank fruit punch. Then they gathered around the campfire and listened to a man tell a scary story.

“This is a story about a man who’s house was haunted by a zombie’s foot!” said the storyteller. Hans, Elsa, and everyone else listened with wide eyes.

After storytelling, it was time for the final game of the night. The farmer led them into a giant barn.

“This is a game where everyone can win a prize!” he said. “There are bags of candy hidden around the barn. See how much you can find in five minutes! When time is up, come out and stand with your teacher.”

Hans, Elsa, and everyone else were excited to play the game of finding the candy.

“On your mark, get set, go!” cried the farmer, and all the children spread out in the barn to find the candy. They all laughed as they raced each other to different spots and grabbed candy before the other did. Before they knew it, the farmer was yelling, “One minute left!”

Elsa hurried to find the last bit of candy that was left. Suddenly, her and another classmate spotted a not so well hidden bag of candy on top of a block of hay, peeking out behind another one. Elsa and the boy both rushed and climbed onto the block of hay to reach the candy. Elsa was about to grab it, when suddenly, without warning, the boy pushed her! Elsa fell to the ground, and landed on her right wrist.

Hans, who had seen the boy push Elsa, he hurriedly rushed over and grabbed the boy by the back of his costume, and yanked him down. The boy, angry that Hans had pulled him down, pushed Hans, and Hans pushed him back.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s going on here?” asked the farmer as he walked in with Ms. Simms and pulled them apart.

“He pushed Elsa,” said Hans, pointing at the boy.

“Is that true?” Ms. Simms demanded as she stood with her hands on her hips. “Answer me David.”

David just shook his head no.

“Is it true, Elsa?” asked Ms. Simms to Elsa, who was sitting on the ground, holding her wrist and crying.  Elsa nodded her head yes.

And so Ms. Simms got David and Elsa’s parents.

“How dare you push a girl down!” cried David’s Mom as he scolded his son. “When we get home you’re going to take your bath and go right to bed. No candy for you tonight mister.” They made David apologize to Elsa, and then they marched him to the car.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but we’ll make an appointment to the doctor’s in the morning,” said Elsa’s Mom, as she looked at her daughters wrist. Hans felt so sorry for Elsa. He was mad that David was such a big fat meanie and pushed Elsa. Hans’s Mom and Dad were proud that Hans had stood up for Elsa.

There was one final activity to do, and then the Halloween field trip would be over. The farmer let all the little boys and girls go to the pumpkin patch and pick out a little pumpkin to take home! Elsa sat on the side. Her wrist was hurting and she didn’t feel like playing. So, Hans went out into the field, found the nicest, shiniest, and roundest pumpkin he could find, and presented it to Elsa. Elsa smiled and was happy.

“Thank you,” said Elsa. Then, she leaned forward and kissed Hans on the cheek!

Hans was surprised, and then he could feel his face turning as red as an apple.

“You’re welcome,” Hans managed to say.

At last, the field trip was over, and it was time to go home. Hans and Elsa walked side by side each other as they followed their parents to the car.

“Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!” they sang as the full moon shone high overhead. The end.

I hope you all enjoy this short story!

[thatringboy]

Sea of Thieves - TWST AU

Based off of @ihavebecomeapenguin‘s Role Swap AU where the First year gang and their respective dorm heads all swap years! This is my second attempt at writing this fic, so I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2,130 (another record???)

Warnings: Cursing, fight scenes, Azul Angst because this is chapter three

Getting the leader of Savanaclaw to agree with their plan was easy enough for Yuu Prefect. Jack seemed to have the idea in his head that he was obligated to help the Ramshackle student because of how the recent overblot incident went down. Yuu didn’t dislike the help they were receiving, but Jack’s insistence that they slept in his dorm while Yuu fought to get Ramshackle back from the Octavinelle leaders was a little much.

However, convincing their new friend Leona would be a much more difficult ordeal.

“That has got to be the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard.”

“Well I don’t see you coming up with any ideas! I’ve only got a few hours left!” Yuu leaned against the door as Leona flipped the page on his magazine.

“It’s not really my problem, Herbivore.” He sighed and adjusted how he laid on his bed. “What could I do?”

Yuu stood up straight. “What’s wrong with you? You were all up for raiding the vault before, what’s changed now?”

Leona shut the magazine and tossed it aside, crossing his arms and sitting deeper into his pillows. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired of getting my ass handed to me by walking sushi!”

Grim snorted on Yuu’s shoulder, but the Prefect was not amused. “It’s a shame, really,” they began, “Think about how people will react when they hear that the second prince of the Afterglow Savanna turned his back on his friend. What would your nephew think of that?”

Yuu knew they struck a chord deep within Leona. He was on his feet in an instant and if looks could kill, Yuu would be dead where they stood. The beastman scowled at the human before him. “Fine, but we do this my way. Your plans suck.”

Yuu’s face formed a mischievous smile. Azul Ashengrotto had crossed a line and by the Seven there would be hell to pay. Oh yes, everything was coming together nicely.

~~~

Riddle paced back and forth and twiddled his thumbs while Trey cleaned his glasses again.

“I have a bad feeling about this--”

“You always have a bad feeling.” Trey put his glasses back on.

“No, seriously! What if Trappola-Senpai finds out that we’re gone? What if we’re too late? What if Leona doesn’t agree to help the Prefect? What if we’re caught out of bed? What if--”

Trey held up a hand. “Riddle, please. Everything is gonna be ok. Just breathe and let the chips fall where they may. Speaking of which...”

The mirror to Savanaclaw lit up and four people stepped out. Leona and Yuu approached the Heartslabyul first years while Ruggie and Jack hung back, already filled in.

As Yuu explained the plan, Riddle’s nervousness slipped away. That is, until his part in the operation was explained.

“You want us to do what?” Riddle’s eyebrows shot up.

Leona smirked. “What, you scared or something?”

“N-No!” He turned bright red. “I just don’t know if I have the skills to pull this off.”

Trey put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll do fine.”

“Thank you, Trey.”

Grim gagged, the anemone on his head wobbling. “Ew! Get a room, you two!”

Leona reached over and flicked the blue appendage. “Shut up, be glad they’re here.”

Yuu rolled their eyes. “So, then everyone knows their parts? Good, then we can get going. The sooner we finish this, the better.”

The first years nodded and passed around the potion that would allow them to breathe underwater. Jack and Ruggie disappeared back into their dorm’s mirror while Yuu and company approached the dark mirror.

In a second, they found themselves in the Coral Sea near the Alantica Memorial Museum. As per usual, a merman guard was posted outside the door. The group looked around for the infamous Leech twins and swam towards the building when they saw that the coast was clear.

Yuu might have had their iconic resting bitch face plastered for their friends to see, but the fact that no one had tried to stop them yet worried the Prefect. Trey swam ahead of the group and approached the guard while the others took cover behind a rock. Yuu could hear Trey spit out a convincing lie about wanting to explore the Museum, only to be denied by the guard. Of course, this was expected and Trey struck up a conversation between the guard, giving a small signal that it was okay for his friends to make a break for the door.

They swam behind the guard while he was distracted and pulled at the entrance, only to discover that it was locked. Leona rolled his eyes and pushed up his sleeve, activating his Unique Magic.

“I am hunger, I am thirst, I am that which steals your tomorrow. Now kneel before me, Kings Roar.”

The door handle turned to sand and he pulled the door open, earning a glare from Riddle. They swam inside the door while Trey continued to keep the attention of the guard. Yuu had to admit Trey’s ability to lie on cue was unsettling, but not unwelcomed.

Finding the picture Yuu risked their dorm for wasn’t a hard task. However, they’d forgotten that the only other reasonable person was still outside sweet talking the guard, so you can imagine how Yuu felt when Riddle took his magic pen and smashed the glass casing around the photo without a second thought.

An alarm went off somewhere in the building and it occurred to Yuu that the last time they were here, there were two guards. A Merman in armor swam around the corner and almost called for backup, but Leona gave him a swift kick to the head and knocked him out.

Maybe hanging around with himbos isn’t such a bad thing. Yuu thought to themself. They almost laughed at the mental image of calling Leona a himbo, but remained focused on the situation at hand. The four swam back out of the Museum and signaled for Trey to wrap up the conversation that he was way too invested in.

They made their escape and began to swim back to the mirror spot, but two dark shadows in the water blocked their path. The Leech brothers eyed the photo in Riddle’s hand with amusement and smiled, calculated toothy grins. Floyd’s voice ripped through the cold water and sent chills down the spines of the first years.

“That doesn’t belong to you, Shrimpy-Chan~”

~~~

Azul watched the first years sneak through the mirror and instructed the twins to give them an hour to retrieve the photo. What he hadn’t seen was the Savanaclaw leadership watching him from their respective mirror.

The Octomer returned to the Mostro Lounge and felt that the establishment lack a certain atmosphere, but then remembered that the Leech twins were off preparing to collect on his most recent contract. He kept himself busy and waved the twins off when they departed, but found his tasks boring when they left.

The Lounge didn’t open for a few minutes, but Azul could see a line forming outside. He grabbed a first year from Scarabia that he had enslaved was helping out that day and positioned him to be the host. The doors opened and Azul noticed that a large amount of customers were from Savanaclaw, but thought nothing of it.

He returned to the VIP room and checked his phone for messages before sitting down behind his large desk. Azul looked over the papers on his desk and noticed that jade had dropped off collateral on a recent contract. Azul spun around in his chair like a supervillain - which he privately enjoyed doing - and stood to open his vault. He had barley cracked the door open when a first year from his own dorm stepped into the VIP room looking distressed.

“What could possibly be so important that you come in here unannounced?”

“It’s a mad house out there, Senpai!” The first year was out of breath,

“Excuse m--”

“There’s too many of them, we can’t keep serving them!”

“Show me.”

Azul followed the first year out to the Lounge’s restaurant area and stopped. Those students from Savanaclaw who were crowding the door? They had taken up every seat! They were yelling and cursing out his waiters and throwing glasses and sending back food they deemed inedible! And of course, the smug faces of Ruggie Bucchi and Jack Howl leaned against the door frame without a care in the world.

“Mister Howl, what is the meaning of this?” Azul tried his hardest not to scream in frustration.

“That’s Howl-Senpai to you, tentacles!” Ruggie snickered.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.” Jack had a smug expression.

Someone called Azul’s name from the kitchen and yelled that they needed assistance. Jack’s smile turned sinister. “That sounds urgent, you wouldn’t want to upset your customers, would you?”

Azul’s face burned red as he struggled not to explode on them. After all, he had a reputation; one bad day couldn’t ruin that. But he did find it suspicious that this happened as soon as the twins had left. Azul returned to the kitchen and kept his eye on the Savanaclaw leaders until he stepped behind the swinging door, narrowly running into a Heartslabyul student carrying a tray of tea.

Once he was gone, Jack nodded to Ruggie and the second year made a break for the VIP room. Phase one was complete.

~~~

If this was any other circumstance, Yuu would say that the eels swimming around them was majestic. However, in this moment, Yuu struggled not to show fear.

“What should we do with the little Shrimpy and Koebe-Chan and Lionfish and their little friends, Jade?” Floyd’s nicknames for them made Riddle flush.

“I don’t know, what if you gave them a squeeze?” Jade swam a little too close to Leona and almost got slashed across the face by long nails. Yuu looked to the Heartslabyul duo and nodded. The two had their pens out in a flash and went back to back. This part of the plan required concentration and almost perfect timing. If one of them messed up, they may just become fish food.

Floyd caught on to what they were doing. “Hah! What, is little Koebe-Chan going hit me with his little necklaces?”

Riddle turned even more red, but surprisingly didn’t lash out. Yuu looked over for a second and noticed that Trey was holding his hand to keep him calm. Yuu turned their attention back to Jade as Leona swiped at him again. Leona attempted to fire a bolt of magic at him, but Jade was too quick, easily avoiding and laughing at the attempt.

Yuu grabbed Leona’s sleeve. “Floyd’s magic! We can’t touch them!”

Leona swung his head around, smacking Grim in the face with his ponytail, and snarled at Trey and Riddle. “Hurry up, goddamnit!”

Riddle broke his concentration and glared at Leona. “I’m doing my best you useless pussy!”

Trey and Yuu made eye contact and knew that the plan was falling apart. Trey rolled his eyes and pointed his wand at Floyd. “Oh for the Seven!”

He activated his Unique Magic and suddenly Floyd’s smile fell. His multi colored eyes widened with rage and Trey gulped. “Riddle, now!”

Riddle spun around and pointed his pen at Floyd as well. “Don’t tell me what to do! Off with your head!”

The all too familiar clicking sound could be heard and Floyd grabbed at his neck. Riddle’s iconic neck lock was holding onto the merman and based on the violent thrashing from Floyd, it wasn’t budging. Floyd glared daggers into Riddle and lunged at him with a loud shriek, but Leona had crossed the distance between them and booted him in the side of the head.

“Floyd!” Jade rushed to his brother’s side and was relieved that Floyd was only knocked unconscious. He looked at the first years and down at the neck brace on his twin. “Just... go.”

They didn’t hesitate to swim back to the mirror spot and teleport back to Night Raven College. When they had finally caught their breath from swimming so fast, Riddle look down at his hands.

“I.... I just used my magic to harm an upperclassman. Leona, you kicked an upperclassman in the head!”

“Yeah and I’ll do it again.” Leona picked between his teeth with his pinky finger. Yuu looked at Trey. “So, how did you do that? The plan was for you two to cast that combo spell that Crowley showed you.”

Trey rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I panicked and realized that my Doodle Suite might have been able to make Floyd-Senpai’s shield just not work.”

“Genius, even for a human like you!” Grim jumped onto the green haired boy’s shoulder with a smile.

“Thank you?”

“Don’t take that as a compliment!” Riddle squinted his eyes at Grim. Leona pulled out his phone and was amazed that it wasn’t dead. “So, Jack and Ruggie-Senpai should be done by now, should we head over to the Lounge?”

Yuu sighed and realized how tired they were. “Let’s.”

~~~

When he managed to get the last beastman out of his restaurant, Azul almost collapsed against the door. He got to his feet and almost stumbled back to the VIP room, but stopped dead in his tracks. His blood turned to ice and his glasses fell off his face. Azul made an undignified sound and spun around, discarding his glasses in his haste. He tore down the hall back to the Lounge, leaving the VIP room and the open, empty vault within.

Azul threw open the doors to the Lounge and saw Ruggie leaning against a wall, cleaning out his teeth with a toothpick.

“What have you done?!” Azul’s voice was nothing more than a hushed whisper.

Ruggie ignored him. “You know, I tried takoyaki for the first time today, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Azul turned a furious red. “You mangy beast! Where are they?!”

“Is that any way to talk to a classmate, Azul-kun?” Jack stepped out from behind a corner, a large stack of yellow papers in his hands. “I thought that you would have more tact.”

The Octavinelle student glared daggers into Jack’s soul. It was a little unsettling. The beastmen could just feel the anger seething out of him. Footsteps could be heard approaching the three.

“I can’t wait to see the look on that Octo-punk’s face when we give him the stupid photo!”

“I’ve never said anything bad against an upperclassman before, but I hope he looses it!”

“Like how you lost it with Floyd?”

“Shut up, or I’ll forcefully remove that anemone myself, you little beast!”

The first years turned the corner Jack was standing behind and stopped. Yuu held up a preemptive hand to stop any wise comments about Azul’s clearly enraged behaviour. With their other hand, they held out the photograph. “Here, so you can’t say we didn’t pull through our end of the deal.”

Azul just stared at the photo and began to laugh softly. “You... You think you’ve won? You steal my contracts, you destroy my Lounge and you bring me my photo to rub it in, huh? I see the twins have failed yet again.”

“Yet again?” Called a voice from down the hall. The students present turned their heads to see the human forms of the Leech brothers coming their way. Floyd still had Riddle’s neck lock on and held an ice pack to his temple.

Jade’s eyes looked Azul up and down. “It seems you’re the one who failed here.”

Azul scoffed. “Oh please, I gave you one task: keep them from returning the photo to me! You couldn’t even do that!”

Floyd stood up taller and took the ice pack away from his head. “You know, I don’t like that tone you’ve got. Makes me want to squeeze it out of you.”

Azul seemed to mentally backpedal. “Well, what I meant to say was--”

Jack waved the contracts in the air to get the mermen’s attention. “Do you want these or not?”

Azul’s anger turned to desperation. “Yes! Hand them over this instant!”

“No I don’t think I will.” Jack sneered. Yuu realized that he was just toying with Azul. They almost felt bad for the second year dorm head, but at the same time, he had enslaved over two hundred students simply because they wanted a cheat sheet for finals. Jack looked over the documents in his hand and passed them to Leona. “Do what you want, I just wanted to see him squirm.”

Leona gladly took the contracts and Yuu realized what he was about to do. They made no move to stop him, but Jade’s eyes opened uncharacteristically large.

“I am hunger, I am thirst, I am that which steals your tomorrow. Now kneel before me, Kings Roar!” 

The golden contracts crumbled into sand between his fingers. Azul shrieked again and fell to his knees, watching as Leona kicked the pile of sand at his feet to solidify that the papers were gone. Yuu looked to Grim and saw that the anemone on his head was gone, however the next sound Azul made got them to return their focus on the situation.

“You... you monsters!” Azul slowly got to his feet.

“Yeah what?” Grim grinned. “You gotta be a bit more specific.”

Leona rolled his eyes and turned to go. “C’mon, I’ve got practice to get to. I don’t wanna throw a pity party for that mess.”

Riddle raised his pen and the neck brace around Floyd vanished. He rubbed his neck and smiled at Riddle. “Thank you, Koebe-chan! No hard feelings for trying to eat you?”

Riddle made a disgusted face that Trey snorted at. Azul watched them start to leave with horror in his eyes. “No, wait! Fix this mess! Grim, I helped you pass your exam!”

“You also used me as a sponge!”

Floyd pursed his lips and crossed his arms. “You’re acting pretty lame right now, you know that right?”

Jade nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Desperation isn’t a good look for you.”

Azul looked around for something, anything to make the situation better. Yuu sighed. “Azul, you did this to yourself. Now, if you excuse us--”

Azul got to his feet with a strange expression on his face. “Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait! I can turn this around! Just watch, I’m not boring at all!”

The door to the Mostro Lounge creaked open and a timid looking Scarabia student stepped out, patting his head where Yuu assumed an anemone had been resting. Azul reached out his hand and a small ball of light flew out of the chest of the poor student and into Azul’s. He stood up with a crazed smile and looked around the group as the Scarabia boy collapsed.

“See?! I may not be what I once was, but I am still leagues above you all!”

Leona groaned and spun around on his heels. “Okay, now you’re taking this too far--”

He was interrupted by Azul’s laugh and a snap of the second year’s fingers. Ruggie pushed Leona down and the ball of light Yuu assumed was Ruggie’s magic flew to Azul. Jack pulled out his staff and growled as he watched Ruggie faint.

“You’ll pay for that, Ashengrotto.” He snarled.

Azul’s laugh grew dark and menacing. “Oh really, Jack-Senpai?”  the title oozing off of his tongue like poison. “Why don’t you just lighten up and Dance with me!”

Jack dropped the staff and became rigid, but soon regained control of his body. Azul turned to Floyd, who’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. All of the commotion had drawn the attention of the other Octavinelle dorm residents, all of which fell prey to Azul’s greedy glare.

Yuu watched in horror as Azul absorbed the magic of every student who had unknowingly stepped into their worst nightmare, but it wasn’t over. Yuu looked Azul up and down and saw his purple gem becoming more clouded by the second.

Riddle noticed this too and raised his pen to stop the nonsense, but Trey tackled him out of Azul’s line of sight. It occurred to Yuu that if Azul got is hands on the magic of their friends, the fight would turn from bad to ugly.

Of course, as per usual, the coming tide was already among them. Jade dashed to put himself between the first years and the crazed Azul, but got smacked to the side by a large black tentacle that had formed from Azul’s cane.

The overblotting version of Azul stood over the first years, but while their friends saw the anger in those cold blue eyes, Yuu recognized loneliness and fear. This was by far the worst case of overblotting Yuu had seen when comparing the Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw incident together, and they had no idea what to do now.

[hanaridulsetcheese]

i found you

a song of achilles x red, white and royal blue crossover.

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

Years passed, actually centuries passed after the death of Achilles and his lover Patroclus. The souls of the lovers drifted aimlessly in an unknown void, so close yet so far away from each other. Fate never wanted them to be together, no matter how hard the two fought, it was just never enough.

Suddenly, at the dawn of a new eon, hope seemed to spark as the souls gravitated towards each other, a distant force seemed to have had mercy on them after the eons they spent unable to be together.

"Be reborn. " it spoke as the souls vanished, "Be happy. "

~~~

Henry and Alex stood hand in hand as they waved at the paparazzi from the steps of their plane. The two boys were on their way to Greece as representatives for both the British and American embassy. The paparazzi were still as crazy about the two boys now as they were at the beginning of their relationship, multiple cameras flashed as the boys waved one last time before finally entering the plane.

"Are we really that popular? " Alex plopped himself down on the fine leather seat of the plane, propping his feet up on Henry's lap who sat opposite to him.

"Everyone loves gays in power. " Henry replied.

The flight to Greece was smooth and quicker than the two had excepted it to be. It was already the peak of dusk as they got of the plane. The smell of the Aegean sea air immediately relaxed the boys as they looked forward to their week on the lush island of Delos.

"Greetings Mr. Diaz, Prince Henry. My name is Chiron and I will be taking care of you both during your visit here. " a tall, lean man met them as they got of the plane. His long and curly hair fluttered gracefully in the breeze of the late afternoon. The man extended a broad hand towards them and they took turns shaking his hand. "I trust that your flight here was smooth? "

"Indeed, it was. " Henry agreed.

"Splendid. You both must be famished after the flight so we will take you straight to your hotel when you can have dinner and an early night. " Chiron gestured for the two men behind him to take the luggage from the boys before leading them to an SUV.

During the ride to the hotel, Chiron listened as the two boys marvelled over the passing scenery. Despite the dark of the night the beauty of Greece still shone bright, captivating the boys as they looked around.

Alex was staring to his right hand side at the beach when there was a sudden force that drew towards the left. A row of white Greek columns lined the area, forming a barrier around something that Alex felt lured to.

"Chiron, what's inbetween those columns? " Alex kept his eyes glued to the columns until they drove past it. Henry glanced back to see what Alex was looking at before turning to Chiron to hear what he had to say.

"Those protect the graves and memorials of the soliders who fought during the Trojan War. Among them is the memorial site of the famous Greek hero, Achilles, himself. " Chiron glanced at Alex through the review mirror.

"The memorial site of Achilles? " Alex mumbled before looking back at the columns again, the last column no longer in his sight as they drove further away.

"You okay? " Henry placed a gentle arm over Alex's who just nodded his head and stared back at the beach, lost in his thoughts.

Henry decided that Alex might just be jet lagged and decided to leave him be, keeping his hand interlocked with Alex's for the rest of the car ride.

~~~

It's been three days since the couple arrived in Greece and it had been hectic. They were piled with work as soon as the work up the on the first day, they're schedule packed for almost every minute.

Since the two had to work at different embassies, they saw each other for breakfast and dinner, lunch was usually spent in their respective temporary work places.

As the days past by, Alex had forgotten about the grave of Achilles he'd seen the second they were handed their work. He'd only seen books during the past three days. There was absolutely no time to go out and visit the island of Delos they were on.

However, hard work and determination did prevail as Alex managed to finish his work ahead of schedule and was now free to roam the streets of Delos as he waited for Henry to complete his work.

Walking through a little market alleyway, Alex took in the sight of the locals as they went about their daily lives. They talked, laughed and just enjoyed each other's company, greeting each other enthusiastically as they passed and Alex found himself smiling to himself. He loved the social, carefree nature the Greeks had.

The place was small, innocent and friendly. It was something Alex grew to like during his days in Greece, it was definitely a huge contrast to his life back home.

"Young man, may I offer you a sample of figs? " a friendly old lady held out a platter with the ripest figs Alex had ever seen. He gratefully accepted the offer and poped a fig in his mouth, the fresh flavour exploded, filling his tastebuds with the grainy sweetness of it's juices.

Maybe he was overwhelmed with the sweetness of the fig or he was simply just exhausted from all the work he'd done the past couple of days but as he finished the fruit, he felt his hand reach out for more of the fruit. Each bite he took, a familiar yet foreign feeling took over him.

The old lady watched in delight as the First Son inhaled the fruits one after the other until the plate was cleared.

"You sure seem to like the figs, my boy. " she handed him a tissue to wipe the juice that he didn't even know had trailed down his arm.

"It seems so. I'd never ate anything quite like it before, yet it felt so familiar to me. " Alex looked at the crate of figs that sat on the stand behind her, "Could I please buy some? "

Alex made his way back to the hotel happily with his packet of figs bumping against his legs as he walked. He didn't expect Henry to be in the room as he walked in. The British boy eyed him sceptically as he shut the door behind him.

"What'd you bring? " Henry's voice was thick with exhaustion. He was laid back against the headboard with a book spread open on his lap. Alex jumped onto the bed and showered his tired boyfriend with little pecks all over his face, giggling as he did so.

"I brought you some figs. " Alex said once Henry finally got him to calm down. "It's the best thing you'll ever taste, I swear. " Alex handed the little fruit to Henry and watched eagerly as he bit into the fruit. The bliss that struck Henry's face as the sweetness burst in his mouth made Alex satisfied.

Together, they sat on their bed and devoured the fruit while talking about their day and their time in the beautiful land of Greece. Before they hd realised it, they had come down to the last fig in the packet.

"Catch." Henry tossed the last fig to Alex. Alex felt like he watched the fig in slow motion as it formed a perfect arc before landing into the cup of his palms, soft and slightly warm.

For some reason, Alex had felt like he'd just experienced deja vu. A blured image formed in his head. He found himself looking at a table full of boys however, Alex seemed to only foucs on a specific one.

They sat on opposite ends of the table, everyone's attention was on a boy who was devouring a bowl of figs in front of him. The aura around the boy seemed to draw Alex towards him, making him unable to remove his eyes from the boy.

Suddenly, the boy diverted his gaze from the fruit to Alex who wasn't quick enough to look away. Softly, with a quick flick of his wrist the boy tossed the fig towards Alex, "Catch. "

"Alex? " Henry called out to the dazed boy.

"Huh? What? " Alex focused on Henry who gave him a concerned gaze.

"Are you feeling okay? " Henry placed the back of his hand to Alex's forehead, "You've been acting strange ever since we arrived in Greece. "

"I-I really don't know. I keep getting this feeling like- I don't know, deja vu? " Alex rubbed his temples, "I keeping thinking about those columns we passed the other day. "

"Do you want to go and visit it? " Henry offered.

"I don't think we'd have the time for that. " Alex placed his hand over Henry's and gave him a smile, "It's alright though, I'd much rather spend my time with you. "

That night, as Alex slept soundly it was Henry's turn to think about those columns. Alex had talked about it a few times since they'd got there and Henry couldn't help but want to take him there. He'd do anything for Alex.

Sending a message to Chiron, Henry requested day off for the next day saying that he had something urgent to take care of before snaking his arms around Alex's sleeping body, slipping of to sleep.

The next morning Henry awoke earlier than Alex as usual and prepared himself for the day ahead before waking up his sleeping lover.

Alex peaked at Henry through the half opened lids of his eyes and gave him a toothy grin. He puckered his lips like a fish, demanding his daily morning kiss. "Not with your morning breath, mister. " Henry pulled Alex out of bed and told him to get dressed without any further information before leaving the room.

When Alex had met up with Henry at the lobby of the hotel, they were escorted out by a friendly local who drove them to their destination which Henry still refused to tell Alex about.

After what felt like hours, they finally pulled up to the place that had been on Alex's mind since the beginning on their trip.

"The memorial of Achilles? " Alex marveled at the tall Greek columns that towered over them, all arranged protectively around multiple, marble tombs.

They walked with interlocked hands along the path, acknowledging all the soldiers that fought during the Trojan War. Multiple flowers lined the banks of the tombs along with notes written by locals who were still grateful for the war they fought.

At the very center of the memorial stood the grandest marble tomb, it's surface gleamed in the sunlight as if heaven itself was acknowledging the memorial. Alex dropped Henry's hand and walked aimlessly towards the tomb.

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. " Alex ran his hands along the tomb of Achilles.

"I would know him in death, at the end of the world. " Alex's voice was now barely above a whisper.

"Alex, what are you saying? " Henry placed an arm on the boys shoulder.

Alex turned to him, tears glazed his eyes and threatened to spill as he stared back at Henry. The deep brown eyes of Alex stared longingly at Henry's as if he hadn't seen them before. It felt as if the person looking at Henry was not just Alex, but for some reason be still felt connected to that person.

"I have found you, my love. " Alex said. "Achilles, we can be happy now. "

Henry finally understood what was happening, it was as if all the mysteries in the world finally became clear. "Patroclus, we found each other. "

[xbaepsae]

the ebb and flow | part six

“You’re trying really hard not to laugh. But it’s difficult to suppress laughter when the situation calls for it. So, for probably the first time ever, you laugh in front of Jeon Jeongguk.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au

word count: 2k

rating: pg-13

warnings: language, the usual character tension, a brief moment of softness??

a/n: hi it’s been quite a while since my last update. but i really hope you enjoy this chapter :) xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the fourth summer – in which there is an inspection

The last week of summer at camp is always a memorable one—be it the late nights by the beach or the insane amount of chaos that seems to ensue every year.

For example, last summer, there was a monster that managed to break through the barrier. Fortunately, everyone was able to react promptly, and the monster was sent to Tartarus; at least, that’s what you think happened. At the end of the day, you’re just happy it hasn’t happened again since then.

This summer as the new camp counselor for your cabin—after Jinyoung so graciously handed you his title before heading off to New Rome—has been an interesting one; and least to say, you’re going to miss your little legion of cabinmates. It’s been fun leading them around—to greatness, of course.

But before summer can truly end, you need to make it to your last Senior Counsel meeting of the season.

Running to the Big House, you rush into the Rec Room with hopes that you’re not the only person who’s behind schedule. You hate that the one morning you oversleep is the one morning you have somewhere to be. In the Rec Room, you notice that all of the other Head Counselors have already arrived.

“Why, y/n, thank you for joining us,” Mr. D’s mouth curves into a frown.

You wince. “Sorry for running late.”

“You’re only a few minutes late,” Chiron waves his hand. “Take your place, y/n.”

Bypassing your grumpy camp director, you take your seat in-between Park Jimin and Jung Hoseok around the dingy ping pong table. The son of Ares offers you a narrow look—probably still upset you snatched his flag from underneath his nose last week—which you return with the same enthusiasm. “Can I help you, Park?”

“Don’t mind mister grouchy-pants over there,” Hoseok suddenly speaks up. “He clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“Not all of us can wake up as chipper as you, Hobi,” Jimin uses the son of Apollo’s infamous nickname.

“Well, I can’t help it if the sun makes me happy.”

“Everything makes you happy. It’s quite sickening, actually.”

Quickly, you realize that this little banter could seriously get out of hand. Luckily, you’re not the only one. Chiron takes a quick look at them and clears his throat. “That’s enough you two; we only have one week left of summer.”

“And there’s much you heroes have to do,” Mr. D adds, popping the tab of his Diet Coke. “I cannot wait for you little vermin to be gone; except for you, y/n…you never seem to want to leave.”

“I would if I could,” you roll your eyes. “I guess we’ll just be stuck here together.”

“Speaking of things to do,” Chiron changes the conversation, “there is one major thing left to be done before the end of summer.”

“Are we throwing a party?” Kim Seokjin asks, hair and face looking as perfect as ever.

Chiron frowns. “No, and there better not be anything of the sort happening in Cabin Ten.”

For a moment, you swear the son of Aphrodite’s eyes are shimmering. “Of course not, unless you want to throw us a party. A party seems fun.”

“A party does seem fun,” Chiron suddenly agrees. “We haven’t had one of those in a while…”

Seokjin’s eyes grow wider. “I want huge balloons and an extravagant display table. Also, is there any way to hire a DJ? No offense, but lyre playing is so ancient.”

“That could probably be arranged…” Chiron trails off, like he’s not even aware of what he’s saying.

“Cut it with the Charmspeak, Lim Sejin.”

The son of Aphrodite’s eyes whip to Dionysus. “It’s Kim Seokjin, Mr. D.”

“Lim Sejin, Kim Seokjin—same thing,” the god of wine rolls his eyes. “But seriously kid, cut it out. We’ve got serious business to attend to.”

“Fine,” Seokjin crosses his arms. “As you were saying, Chiron?”

Chiron blinks a few times. “Oh, yes—the major thing that must be done is cabin inspection.”

The entire Senior Counsel seems to tense at that. It’s not that everyone is a total slob, but cabin inspection is so tedious. There’s a reason it’s only done once in a while. And sometimes, you do end up finding some disgusting beds. The Hermes Cabin is always questionable. You’ve never had to do cabin inspection, and you don’t plan on it.

“Are there any volunteers?” Chiron continues. “You all know two counselors need to perform the tasks.”

As Chiron says that, everyone starts to look at Kim Taehyung. When he realizes that you’re all looking at him, he begins to shake his head aggressively. “No way—I did inspection last time. Besides, I’m busy with the Pegasi—I don’t have time to check all the cabins.”

He is right—the son of Zeus does have a lot of other responsibilities. But you all looked at him first because he is just so good at taking on different tasks.

“Okay, so excluding Taehyung…any volunteers?” Chiron asks again. No one dares to look at him. “Come on, heroes. There are worse things to do here.”

While there is some truth to that statement, no one budges. But for some reason, you feel compelled to offer your service? The thought of coming into contact with stinky socks is less than ideal, but you want to prove to Chiron and Mr. D that you’re serious about being Head Counselor of your cabin. And you want to make your mother proud.

So, almost subconsciously, you raise your hand. “I’ll do it, Chiron.”

Everyone’s head swivels toward you. Surprise and interest simultaneously mares their faces. Even Mr. D looks shocked that you spoke up—his Diet Coke spilling from his hand.

“Great, y/n!” Chiron exclaims. “Anyone want to join her?”

“I’ll do it.” For the first time today, your eyes look in his direction. Jeon Jeongguk stares back at you with his signature smirk plastered onto his dumb face. “I’ll help y/n out with cabin inspection.”

Chiron hums, probably wondering why your sworn enemy is offering to assist you. “Interesting. You may join her, Jeongguk.”

“I’ll gladly take anyone else but Jeon,” you groan. “Chiron don’t make us do inspection together. Please.”

“You’ll be fine, y/n. It’s just one day of cabin inspection. It’ll be fun.” Chiron says as he moves onto the next topic, something about the dining pavilion.

“Come on, y/n,” Jeongguk taunts with a smile. “It’ll be fun.”

***

It’ll be fun, they said.

Walking towards Cabin One with your clipboard, you turn around and watch as Jeongguk slowly follows behind you. In his hand, he carries his own clipboard and pen. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Sure, captain,” he mock salutes you, pen now hanging out of his mouth.

You roll your eyes and continue towards Zeus’s cabin. Once you’re in front of the white marble structure, you take in the columns and bronze decorations. Cabin One is the biggest of all the cabins—to reflect Zeus’s position as King of Olympus; you don’t think you’ll ever get over the robust columns and cold exterior.

“This place gives me the creeps.”

“Shut it, Jeon,” you order, knocking on the door. It opens mid-tap, revealing a smiling Taehyung. He opens the door wider, allowing you both to walk in.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the son of Zeus says, revealing a pretty empty cabin.

You notice a few beds in the corner, but that’s about it for the furniture. In the middle of the room, boasts a rather intimidating statue of the god of thunder himself. The statue seems to stand ten feet tall, and you wonder how Taehyung can even stand to live in such a space. You voice this thought out loud, to which only seems to make the son of Zeus rumble with laughter.

“I’m just used to it, I guess. The others don’t mind either.”

Walking around the room, you can’t help but give Cabin One a perfect score—if anything, you feel like it’s almost too pristine in here. Looking over your shoulder, you notice Jeongguk giving the same score.

“Let’s move on, shall we?” you ask, not waiting for Jeongguk to give you an answer before you’re walking away.

The two of you bypass Cabin Two—which belongs to Hera herself and means no one lives there—and make your way towards Cabin Three. You allow Jeongguk to walk in front of you—since this is his place, after all—and you don’t miss the way sweat begins to bead along his brow.

“I hope for your sake, the cabin’s clean,” you remark, to which he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m sure my siblings cleaned up…” he trails off, seemingly unsure of his own words.

Jeongguk opens the door of the gray sea-shelled building and reveals a dark interior. His half-siblings are nowhere to be found, probably off doing their activities. You follow Jeongguk inside and watch as he switches the lights on. For the first time, you take in the glowing walls and the ceiling that makes the cabin appear as it’s underwater. There is also a fountain that looks like a fish in the room; and as you’re staring at the water sprouting from its mouth, you see it.

The last bed in the row is trashed—the sheets have been haphazardly thrown everywhere and clothes hang from each corner like a monster rolled through the space or something. On the floor beside the bed, there are even more clothes and random things; like miniature figurines of Hippocampi and other sea creatures.

You don’t realize it, but your mouth had dropped open. “Styx…who’s bed is that?”

Slowly, you turn to face your enemy. You expect him to be ready with a snide comment, except he seems at a loss for words. Jeongguk’s face is devoid of color and he looks absolutely horrified. You put two and two together, realizing that the trashed bed belongs to him.

“I am going to kill them,” he barely says above a whisper. For a second, you almost feel kind of bad for the son of Poseidon; then again, why should you feel bad for him? You don’t even like him. “When I asked them to clean up, I didn’t mean for them to give me all of their shit!”

You’re trying really hard not to laugh. But it’s difficult to suppress laughter when the situation calls for it. So, for probably the first time ever, you laugh in front of Jeon Jeongguk. It starts off as simple air passing between your lips, but soon morphs into something full-bellied as you feel laughter vibrate throughout your whole body.

He looks at you with wide eyes—probably thinking you’ve lost your mind—but you can’t help it. You can barely muster the words, “T-This is gold.”

As you shut your eyes, tears practically fall from them as you continue to laugh, you miss something. You miss the way Jeongguk’s wide eyes soften a bit as he continues to stare at you. The softness doesn’t last long, and you probably wouldn’t have caught it because his gaze becomes sharp in a blink, but it was there. It was real. Though he would never admit it to you.

“Shut up,” he says instead, which gradually sobers you up. “This is humiliating.”

You nod. “Oh, absolutely.” This causes Jeongguk to frown. “And I am so giving you a terrible grade for this.”

Focusing back on the task at hand, you give Cabin Three a big fat one out of five—much to the disappointment of a certain cabin member. As Jeongguk grades himself, you raise an eyebrow when he gives himself a modest score of three.

“What?” he asks, feigning ignorance.

“Three? C’mon, Jeon,” you roll your eyes. “You must see the destruction that is your bed.”

He scrunches his face. “But it’s not even my mess!”

You give him a look; one that says don’t fuck around right now. And it seems to work because Jeongguk, albeit begrudgingly, changes the three next to his cabin to a one. By the time he looks up again, you’re already halfway out the door.

“Come on, Jeon; we don’t have all day!”

[conretewings]

-A SMALL OBSTACLE-

**ATTENTION. THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD. I edited some things and added an epilogue. Please enjoy and reblog if you want**

(I'd like to dedicate this story to @mistwolf4, who's kindness, support, and discussions with me on it helped make it possible.)

When Salem had something to accomplish, she'd usually pick whoever's particular skills were most closely aligned to the task; when technological expertise or sly infiltration was in order, she called upon Watts. When wise diplomacy or intimidation, real or implied, was needed, she'd send Hazel. And when the seeds of chaos needed to be sown or a target taken care of, Tyrian was all too happy to serve.

Bearing this in mind, it wasn't often that all three men in the Grimm queen's inner circle were sent on a mission together; in fact this was only time in recent memory. All of their abilities, she had said, would be crucial. They had no idea about the small yet critical obstacle that lie ahead in their path...

Things started out just fine when they left Evernight in a 'borrowed' Mistral airship. They made it to the first rendezvous point, took care of that aspect of the mission-but when they returned to the vessel found themselves facing an unexpected issue.

Watts banged one fist on the control console after failing for nearly the seventh time to get the ship started, "What the hell is wrong with this heap of garbage?!"

Tyrian poked his head up from an access hatch in the floor, holding a wrench, "I tightened the bolts you pointed out...nothing?"

"Clearly not," the doctor replied with an eyeroll Tyrian didn't see, then leaned his head out the open window, "Is the power supply properly connected Hazel?"

The tall man nodded, closing a panel on the ship's side, "Everything looks fine."

Watts sighed, turning and going to the same access hatch Tyrian had vacated and was now crouching beside. Turning a couple of his rings, he swept a hand out, creating small hard-light platforms in front of his feet, using them as steps as he descended into the small main mechanical control room.

He began to fidget with several controls, muttering and cursing to himself as Hazel, having re-entered, and Tyrian stood nearby, unsure of how and if they could do anything. The scorpion Faunus caught Hazel's eye and gave a shrug before crawling onto the co-pilot's chair, and the taller man sighed, crossing his thick arms and leaning against the wall.

He knew if they couldn't get the thing started soon they'd be out of luck. Thus, ever the pragmatic one, he moved to kneel beside the hatch and said, "Arthur, if we can't get it going, we'll have to be stuck here for the night, or try and secure another mode of transportation. I suggest we head back into town and weigh our options."

A loud rattling and clang was heard from the dimly lit room below, coupled with Watts poking his head into view, "Absolutely not," he huffed, tossing a scorched, blackened piece of metal and wire onto the floor then ascending on more of his hard-light steps, brushing his clothes off, "I've located the issue. This," he picked the piece up, "Is one of the spark plugs for the main engine. We'll just grab a spare from the toolkit, install it and be on our way. Tyrian could you grab me the toolkit? It's the same one you grabbed the wrench from."

"There was nothing like that in there that I saw." Tyrian answered, cocking his head, long braid flopping over his shoulder.

Watts rolled his eyes again, striding to and flipping open a large steel box, "Rubbish. There has to be. There's always at...at least...oh for the brothers sake!"

He stood, pinching the bridge of his nose, "There isn't one."

"I told you, dear Arthur." Tyrian said with a sing-song tone, batting his eyes and earning himself a sideways, sour glance.

Hazel pushed himself to his feet, "We have two choices. One is to let her Grace know. The other is to head back into town to purchase the part we need. If we're quick option two is our best bet."

"No, no, you're right as usual my exceptionally tall fellow," Watts relented, giving his jacket another dusting for good measure and walking to the exit ramp, "I'll be back as soon as possible."

"I'm coming too," said Hazel as he too moved toward the door, "I'll grab a few other things in case we run into something like this again."

Tyrian leapt from the chair and swept up behind them, "Well, don't leave me out of the party! It's no fun being here all by myself!"

Watts waved a hand dismissively, "Fine fine! Let's just hurry and get this done."

An hour later, they had finally located a shop that carried the parts they needed. Watts was inside handling the purchase, Tyrian had joined him, and once Hazel had grabbed what he wanted he stepped outside to wait. The man leaned against the side of the store, slightly down the alley between it and the neighboring building minding his own business and trying to remain as inconspicuous as was feasible. It had clouded over in their walk here, and now the sky above was dark and heavy with the threat of rain.

As he stood, keeping an eye out for possible trouble as he always did, he suddenly felt a tugging at his pant leg and looked down to see...a small child gazing intently up at him. She looked to be about five years old, with dirt-streaked brown hair and an equally filthy dress. One hand clutched a stuffed toy with the other firmly knotted in the fabric of his pants, and she stared up at him fearlessly with bright blue eyes.

He resolved to ignore her, as she was likely simply seeking attention or to play a joke on him, neither of which he felt like dealing with. Thus he looked away again, crossing his arms and hoping she'd get bored and leave. After a minute or so of continued efforts, the tugging became more insistent and she spoke up, "'Scuse me mister!"

He sighed, relenting and making eye contact, "Yes?"

"Where's my mama?" she asked plaintively.

Hazel was momentarily taken aback. Of all the people around she had, for some reason, chosen him. Was she truly lost, or did she simply wander off and her mother was right nearby, frantically searching for her? No doubt it was the latter, and not having time to deal with lost waifs, yet unable to force himself to turn a blind eye-there were monsters other than Grimm about-he resolved to take care of this matter quickly. He carefully knelt, still towering above her but slightly less intimidating and asked, "When and where did you see her last?"

The child pursed her lips, looking away for a moment, "Umm...three days ago?"

Hazel felt his heart sink; three days meant it was the former situation after all.

Fishing in her pocket, the girl held out a piece of paper, "She gave me this but I can't read it..."

Taking it, Hazel unfolded it and quickly realized he was now entangled in a much darker, more complex situation. The note read, 'I can't take care of her anymore. Her aunt lives in Fellstone at 36 Walnut St. take her there.'

His brows knitted and he exhaled so lowly in his throat it was almost a growl. There had to be a police station nearby he could drop her off at, though he wondered why the child hadn't been taken there in the first place. Standing again, he stuffed the paper in a pocket and motioned for her to follow.

"Come on. I'll take you to someone who can help."

She gave a tiny gasp of delight, grinning ear-to-ear and reaching her hand up toward him. He paused, realizing she was trying to hold his as they walked, but pretended he didn't notice and kept on. They made their way through the muddy streets, Hazel taking frequent downward glances to make certain she was still there. His Scroll beeped, and taking a look saw the message from Watts: 'Where are you??' He quickly tapped out a reply; 'Had to take care of something be right back'

In only a few minutes they had reached a police outpost and though he was naturally wary of calling attention to himself, especially with law enforcement, he rapped his calloused knuckles on the door. It immediately flew open, a portly man doing a double-take at the figure in front of him.

"Oh-hello sir. What's the trouble?"

Hazel gestured to the small girl beside him, handing the officer the paper she'd had, "This child approached me...she was, apparently, abandoned by her mother. The note lists a relative."

The officer took the paper, looked from it to the girl, who waved at him, then shrugged, "Look, I know you mean well, but here's the thing; I know this kid. Her mom is a good-for-nothing drunk and is always in some sort of crisis. This isn't the first time she's ditched her and vanished. She'll probably be back soon. There's nothing we can do."

Hazel cocked an eyebrow, "I'm sorry?"

Again the officer shrugged, then coughed and handed the paper back, "I said there's nothing we can do. You can leave her here, or at the pub on Eighth, or Cherry and Pilwin. Those are her favorite haunts. Bye."

With that he shut the door practically in Hazel's face. His fists clenched, part of him wanting to punch a hole right through it. He wasn't naïve; the lines between good and evil in the world were, quite often, more blurry than most cared to believe or admit, however he still found himself entertaining the notion that at least some of those that were supposed to be in a position of protecting others would do just that.

He looked down at the child, whose wide eyes were wavering and uncertain, having clearly comprehended the adult's discussion. So she was truly on her own, with no one willing to lend a hand...except him. Despite his better judgement, in a flash of something deep and long-forgotten he sighed again and extended his hand to her, "If you still wish, I'll help you."

Her expression brightened, just a little, and she reached up, her tiny hand managing to wrap around several of his fingers.

"What's your name?" he asked as they made their way back toward the shop where his companions were, likely, impatiently awaiting his return.

"I'm Greta!" she proudly declared, then held up her toy, "And this is Stinky! What's yours?"

He inhaled sharply, stopping short. It wasn't her name, but it was close enough to send an aching stab through his chest. Drawing a deep breath to steady himself again, pushing the emotions and memories back into the corners of his mind where they usually were, he glanced at her and nodded.

"I'm Hazel. I'm going to take you to your family, Greta. I promise."

Watts paced briskly, hands tightly clasped behind his back and mouth pressed to a thin line. Tyrian stood much more casually, leaning against a tree at the edge of town where they'd decided to meet. His tail waved lazily and he watched the doctor's increasingly agitated state with amusement.

"Oh Watts you'll wear a rut in the ground at this pace," he said with a chuckle and stretched, "I'm certain our compatriot will be here any minute."

"Where IS that oaf?! This was HIS idea and now he's run off to who-knows-where!" he gestured to the sky with it's dark, roiling clouds, "It's going to downpour any moment and he can't even-finally!"

As he was ranting Hazel turned the corner of a nearby building and approached them. Watts raised his hands palms up in a sarcastic gesture, "Ah, at last, he returns. Now, let's get out of here. We-"

He froze mid-sentence, as now Greta peered out from behind Hazel's coat and gaped curiously at him and Tyrian. The scorpion Faunus perked up instantly, making a soft 'oooh' sound. Hazel moved his hand to indicate to her to stay back and at this Watts drew a sharp, deep breath, drawing himself up.

"Hazel. What. Is that?"

The large man glanced at Greta, then back to Watts. He had overheard how the doctor had referred to him and chose his response accordingly, "I believe this is what most would call a child."

"You know PERFECTLY well what I mean!" Watts barked, jabbing a finger in his direction, "Why is she with you?"

Hazel sighed, full well knowing this was going to be inordinately difficult no matter what, "She approached me seeking help, and I discovered her mother has abandoned her. She was kind enough at least to include a note listing a nearby relative. I'm taking her to them."

Watts rubbed his temples, his face reddened with frustration, "You can't possibly be serious..."

Tyrian snorted, "I don't recall Her Grace saying anything about babysitting stray children. Did you forget we have a job to accomplish?"

"Thank you dear Tyrian!" Watts quickly replied, then addressing Hazel pointed at Greta, "This is not your responsibility or problem. Put it back where you found it, and be quick we need to make headway before it rains or gets too dark."

Hazel said nothing for a moment. He knew this was exactly the response he would get, and had prepared for it.

"Fellstone, where her aunt lives, is right on our way. With the winds how they are, even with these two detours, we'll get to our next stop on time or ahead of schedule. And speaking of responsibility, if anything should go wrong I will shoulder it myself."

His teammates stared in defeated exasperation; they knew all too well that once he'd set his mind to something, there was no stopping him. Watts threw his hands in the air, grumbling and cursing and spun on his heel as he began the trek back to their ship. Hazel mumbled to Greta to stay close as he set off as well. The small girl clutched his coattails, having to trot to keep up. Tyrian slunk off the tree and took up the rear of the group, eyeing Greta now with curiosity...or how a snake does a mouse. He crept up closer, and finally the girl noticed. Her eyes widened and she tilted her head, watching his tail sway hypnotically.

"Do you like it?" he said in a sweetly venomous voice, "I certainly do...though many others don't..."

Hazel jerked his head to glower at the Faunus, "Leave her alone."

"Oh, but she's just curious! All I'm doing is providing some entertainment for her for the walk! Surely-"

"Leave. Her. Alone." he repeated, this time in a low threatening growl.

Chuckling, Tyrian raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender and picked up the pace until he reached Watts, his tail gently resting on the doctor's back. He grinned and winked over his shoulder, and Greta held Hazel's coat a little tighter.

Slowly at first, then swiftly picking up into a steady rhythm, the rain finally came only minutes later. With a disgruntled shout of 'I told you' Watts unfurled his umbrella and took off towards the ship, which was now in sight, although still a ways off. Tyrian tried to shelter himself as much as possible with him, mockingly calling behind them to hurry.

Hazel picked up his pace; he had never minded the rain, but they did need to move quickly. Greta, still clinging to his coat, now struggled even more to keep up. She panted and moved her small legs as fast as she could, but between his naturally long strides and the wet ground she just couldn't-and tripped, tumbling to her knees. She knelt where she'd fallen, clutching her toy and started to cry. Hazel stopped a couple steps ahead and sighed.

"Come on, you need to get up."

"I caaaaan't!" she sniffled, "You're too fast and I'm getting tired!"

"You have to try."

"I can't!!" she repeated, then curled in on herself miserably.

He exhaled wearily. He had chosen to take charge of this situation, and now he needed to find ways to navigate it. They had to move, but she was clearly exhausted especially after everything she'd no doubt been through. An idea came to him...

"Greta."

She looked up at him from the muddy ground, her blue eyes clearly showing her weariness yet still holding that fearless fire. He knew she had a fighter's spirit, she must if she was able to survive on her own. He decided to nurture that, while also clearing up this obstacle.

"Sometimes, you'll be tired and hurting and want to give up. You can't. You have to try to push yourself just a little more to reach your goal. If you get up and walk to me I will carry you the rest of the way."

She regarded him solemnly, then wiping her face with one hand pushed herself to her feet and as confidently as she could muster, made her way to him, where she squared her shoulders as she looked up, "I did it."

"Good. Now then..."

He scooped her up with one arm, her slight weight nearly nothing to him, and started to walk. In moments he noticed the rain still pelting her, even worse now that it had picked up further. Yet another idea crossed his mind, one that would shelter her from the brunt of it and enable him to move faster. He loosened the belt overlaying his coat, tugging it aside enough to place her underneath, where she was now tucked against his chest and torso and re-cinched the belt, essentially turning it into a makeshift sling.

"Hold on." he said, and he felt her knot her hands in his shirt as he took off at a run.

Greta peered out as they moved, seeing the trees lining the road fly by. She held tight as he'd instructed, feeling his warmth and the strong, steady drumbeat of his heart. He had been so nice to her, even though he was big and looked kinda mean. Most people were actually mean. He reminded her of her papa...she barely remembered him, except that he was big and nice too. She smiled, nestling herself snugly against him and feeling happier than she had in a long time.

A couple minutes later Hazel made it inside the ship, taking a moment to rest from running in the now deluge outside. Watts and Tyrian were already hard at work on repairs, and Tyrian looked up at him with a fake pout.

"Oh, poor thing, you're soaked through!"

Hazel ignored him and went to his quarters, which normally on one of these ships was meant to sleep three people but was the only room big enough for him. Removing his charge from his coat and setting her on the unused bed, he then shed the garment entirely. Stepping into the tiny adjoining bathroom he grabbed a clean towel, coming back to her.

"You need to dry off. Here..." he carefully rubbed her head and she giggled, shaking out what he now realized was a soft auburn-brown hair. The rain had actually cleaned her up quite a bit. He then wrapped the towel snugly around her and told her to keep it on for a while. This done he sat heavily on his own bed across from her to plot his next move; he was loathe to admit he hadn't a clue what he was doing. Step one; get her off the street, sheltered, and on her way to her aunt, was complete. Now step two..?

He looked through the open door of the room, then back to her, sitting there swinging her legs and making her toy 'walk' across the blankets, "Are you hungry?"

Greta nodded, "I could eat a doughnut thiiiiiis big!" And spread her arms as far as she could.

"Then I'll get you something," he stood, not letting her see him wince. It was true he couldn't feel pain, but all the stiffness and joint damage he'd done to himself cropped up from time to time. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

He made his way to a small back area that served as a crude kitchenette, opening a cabinet to see what they had left. Some military rations left from Brothers-knew-when that they'd ignored, Watt's stash which was strictly off-limits, though for a moment Hazel considered it, some canned goods, and then a few of his own homemade protein bars and pre-packaged pastries. He took one of the protein bars and an apple danish and headed back. Upon entering he didn't see her, so he knelt to look under the beds and finding nothing, started to feel a ripple of concern.

"Greta?" he inquired.

His ears caught the softest rustle and giggle, and upon her bed saw the blanket move ever so much. He realized now where she was and stepped over to flip the blanket aside. Out popped a proudly grinning Greta, "BOO! You found me!"

"Good, I thought you'd wandered off."

"Awwww!" she pouted, "But I'm a scary ghost!"

"...Is the scary ghost still hungry?"

"YEAH!"

Greta jumped to her feet and upon spotting the danish, practically tried to climb him to get at it. He quickly handed it over and she plopped herself in the middle of the bed, tearing into the food with gusto, doing little bounces and hums of joy. He sat across from her, slowly eating the protein bar she'd rejected and wondering for probably the dozenth time what he'd gotten into.

Abruptly the vessel shuddered, and he could hear the engines roaring to life coupled with Watt's triumphant shout. The ship started to lift off, and Greta gasped, dropping the wrapper from her danish and scrambling to the window, seeing the ground move further away.

"Are we flying Mr. Hazel?!"

"Yes."

She began to bounce on the mattress, chanting and laughing "I'm flying I'm flying!" while flapping the towel she still wore like a pair of wings. Seeing her overjoyed by something to him so mundane, and often grim depending on the situation, plucked some long-dormant thread in his soul and he actually felt himself crack a small smile.

"I thought you were tired." he wondered.

"I-am-but-I'm-too-busy-flying-!" she answered in between bounces, then suddenly cried, "Oh no I've been attacked I'm falling catch meeeee!"

Crouching for extra power, Greta leapt and launched herself off the bed right at Hazel. Caught off guard, he nevertheless leaned forward and easily caught her, where she wriggled in his arms and laughed. He raised his eyebrow, again pondering why in the world she'd chosen him...but he was starting to be glad for it. After a minute she stopped and even started to slump against him. He pried her off and held her out to see her eyes slowly blinking, and she yawned loudly.

"I'm...sleepy...too much...flying. Had to make it to...the castle..."

"Then let's get you to bed."

He stepped across to her bed, fixing the blanket as much as possible before setting her down and pulling the covers over her. She suddenly bolted upright, lamenting, "Stinky?! Where's Stinky?"

Hazel bent and lifted the toy from the floor where it'd fallen during her aerial mishap, his best guess being it was a badger, and handed it over. Greta clutched the animal lovingly to her chest and Hazel stood.

"Be careful with your friends. Alright, I'll be right nearby if you wake up and need something. Goodnight, Greta."

"Wait!! Don't leave me! Mama left please don't leave me alone again!"

"I have to go keep watch so you're safe."

"Pleeeeeease?!" she pleaded, on the verge of tears.

He paused, seeing the genuine fear and longing for some sort of reassurance in her face, then sighed, sitting on her bed and scooting so his back was resting on the wall. He gestured and she scrambled into his arms, leaning against him as he held her to his torso, where she settled with a long, contented hum. He fully expected her to pass out at any moment.

But then, she craned her neck to gaze up at him, "Can I have a bedtime story?"

He pinched his brow; ah yes. He should have expected this. Though he did do plenty of reading and knew many tales, the bedtime story variety wasn't his forte. He thought for a moment, clearing his throat and Greta leaned forward with expectation.

"Once upon a time, a young girl took a ride on a flying ship. It was a beautiful day, and soon it was night, with lots of stars. She had had a long trip, and got tired. She went to sleep and had wonderful dreams and when she woke up, she was with her family. The end."

Greta stared blankly at him, then pouted, "That's not a real bedtime story!"

"If I tell you another do you promise to try and sleep?" he grumbled, but with a growing tone of affection.

"Pinky promise!" she declared, holding up her small hand.

He hesitated for a moment, but then finished the gesture with her...and a flash of memory he hadn't asked for came to him-

-"If I win this race, you have to do the dishes. If you win, I will!" said Gretchen with her usual bravado.

"Are you going to try and get out of it again?" Hazel replied with a sarcastic smile.

She held out her hand, "Nope! Not this time! I pinky promise!"-

He let his eyes fall shut, carefully refolding the memory and upon remembering another, one perfect for this moment, opened them again. This tale had always been her favorite.

"Very well. Let me tell you the story of The Brave Weaver Girl and the Golden Tree..."

The rain had let up considerably, now simply a gentle patter against the windows, and streaks of moonlight broke through the clouds. Greta was still curled in a ball in Hazel's lap as he continued to speak.

"...and at last, the brave weaver girl had defeated the shape-shifter, and taking some of the golden fruit of the tree to sell, went home to her family. The end."

He glanced down; her eyes were almost closed and her breathing slow and steady. Very carefully, he slid off the bed and turned, gingerly setting her on it and pulling the blanket over her. She hummed, pulling her stuffed toy closer and yawning again as she finally shut her eyes. He slowly started to back away, taking a pillow and a novel with him, hoping she wouldn't notice...and just barely caught her whisper-soft murmur as she said, "G'night papa..."

He stopped short, the shock hitting like he'd been kicked in the gut. ...Papa? His chest tightened uncomfortably and he swallowed hard, conflicting emotions he hadn't known he was still even capable of clawing at him. Exiting, he silently shut the door and turned so his back was against the wall, slumping down until he was sitting cross-legged on the floor to begin his vigil.

Her words kept echoing in his mind. Did she actually believe he was, and that's why she'd approached him? No, if she did she would have said so. It was most likely then she simply saw him as a father figure, a notion that sat heavily in his heart.

He was no type of man to be a father. The things he'd done, the pain he'd caused, all in the promise of a different, hopefully better future yes, but still...he didn't deserve such an honor. Briefly he looked back at his younger self and recalled the time he'd wanted a family of his own someday...a dream long dead.

Hearing footsteps approaching, he flicked his gaze upward to find Watts standing there, a mug of what smelled like coffee in one hand and his Scroll in the other. The doctor stared at him disparagingly for a moment before he spoke.

"May I inquire as to why you're sitting there?"

Hazel glanced around before quietly answering, "I don't trust him."

"Ah, yes, Tyrian did mention you'd ended up bringing your little pet along after all. Well, I'm still not a fan of the whole situation however I'm clearly outmuscled," he leaned against the wall opposite Hazel and took a sip of his drink, "I am curious though; why her? What compelled you to not turn her away?"

"She came to me. I..." he trailed off, having been forced for the first time to truly stop and consider it, "She was an innocent, alone. I know that fate all too well."

"Aaah, I see. Ironic, isn't it?" Watts sniffed, "I wonder how many people you've...dispatched, and here you are suddenly deciding this one life is worth saving. Curious."

Hazel felt his hands clench as they rested on his knees; he was well aware of the many lives he had taken and the, as Watts had put it, ironic nature of this venture. He also was in no mood to be reminded.

He looked Watts squarely in the eyes and said, in that tone denoting having had enough, "If you have nothing productive or helpful to say, I'd like some peace and quiet."

With the faintest eye roll, Watts pushed himself off the wall and turned on his heel towards the front of the ship, saying over his shoulder, "We'll be passing through Fellstone in the morning. Goodnight Mr. Rainart."

Hazel unclenched his fists and let his shoulders relax, having not realized just how much he'd had them tensed. Watt's words had struck a chord, leaving him now with a bitter taste in his throat and dark thoughts he'd hoped to avoid for at least one night. He glanced at the door behind him, through which slept one tiny girl, one that in the brief time she'd been with him, had brought him trouble he hadn't planned on...but also a slight, fragile sliver of joy and even healing. Soon he'd be sending her on her way, but that was good. That was what she needed. For the second time that day, he felt himself forming a small, wistful smile.

Leaning back with the pillow behind his head, he opened his book and settled in for a long, sleepless night...

He sat up with a start, nearly banging his head on the wall. It was much brighter around, and he realized it must be morning. Turning he saw the door was ajar, and with a groan from stiff joints and passing out in an awkward position, he stood and opened the door a little further, stepping in the room. He called her, but got no answer, and assuming it may will be another case of hide-and-seek pulled back the covers of her bed and even the others–but found no sign of her. Fighting back the panic starting to brew, he stepped back into the hall area and called her. It was then he heard her giggling coming from the front control area of the ship and he immediately made his way there-where he froze.

Tyrian sat crouched on a pilot's chair, his tail wrapped around Greta's waist as he rocked her gently back and forth like a swing.

In two long strides Hazel made it over and scooped the small girl up to hold her on his shoulder, cold fury in his eyes, "What are you doing?" he all but growled.

Tyrian stood and wisely sidled around the large man, grinning ear-to-ear, "Ah! Good morning! As I said before, I simply wish to entertain our young guest! She was all alone, poor dear, so Uncle Tyrian came to the rescue! Didn't I, little one?"

"Get out." Hazel stated in a tone that did not invite any further discussion, and Tyrian backed out of the area and out of sight, his smile no less taunting.

It was about an hour later that Watts announced they were near Fellstone and he was going to land the ship a safe distance away. From putting the address into his Scroll, Hazel had realized her aunt's place was a small farm toward the edge of town which was perfect; the less people saw them the better. The thick fog that had settled over the land after last night's rain would further disguise them.

With what time the pair had left, Hazel spent much of it telling her stories and she spun her own yarns, though they were generally much more disjointed.

"Are you gonna stay with us?" she asked at one point as she traced invisible patterns on his arm.

"No. I can't, I have places I need to go. I'm sorry."

"Oh..." she said with disappointment, pressing herself into him a little more, "Okay...hey!" She brightened and clapped her hands, "Maybe you can come visit!"

He felt his stomach knot up. No. He knew what he was, what he'd still have to do, how death and danger were always nipping his heels. The moment she found out who he truly was she'd rightfully despise him-as well as be in grave danger herself. No...it was safest for her if she never saw him again. "Perhaps. We'll have to wait and see..."

Finally, Watts called to him that he was going to land as close as he could, and that they had to make it quick in order to stay on schedule. Hazel sighed and gently picked her up, making her make sure she had Stinky, and they made their way to the outside hatch and down the ramp.

It was damp, and the fog was so dense it obscured the small farmhouse only a short ways off, and thankfully the airship behind them. Through the mist however, Hazel could see lights on in the house and could hear sounds of life. Greta gasped, chattering about the times she'd been here before and all the fun things she'd done. He listened to her well, taking a mental snapshot of this moment to tuck away for when times were harder, to have a small bright spot to look upon and hope everything he did was worth it in the end.

When they had gotten as close as he dared without him possibly being seen, he set her down, making sure the note she had had with her when he found her was still in the pocket of her dress. He then knelt, also as he had done just the day before.

"Now," he said kindly but sternly, "I held up my end of our deal. I got you to your family, now do you remember your part?"

She saluted, "Be strong, be brave, be good, and don't be a Huntress!"

"Very good. Now then..." he stood, "Go on."

She didn't move, just stared at him with those bright blue eyes. He raised his eyebrow, "Yes?"

She held her arms up, and he realized what she wanted. Lifting her he gave her one more hug, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering, "Thank you Mr. Hazel...I'll never forget you. Thank you for being my Papa for a while."

He again felt that kick in his gut but kept himself steady, telling her it had been his honor, and he set her back down. Without another word she turned and ran toward the house shouting happily. He watched her go with a silent prayer, taking a small piece of what was left of his heart with her. A door flew open and a woman came out, calling her in confusion. The woman scooped her up and held her while crying joyfully; clearly this was indeed her relative. Hazel exhaled with a rare feeling of contentment; she was home.

"Greta! My goodness how did you get here?!" her aunt exclaimed in astonishment.

The girl turned and pointed, "The big nice man rescued me! ...mister?"

But by that time Hazel had turned and left, vanishing into the fog...

-EPILOGUE-

Hazel stood in the woods, the fading sunlight shimmering in golden beams through the thick trees, the air beginning to cool. He felt the weight of his axe across his shoulders and could hear the soft calls of birds and the distant bark of a fox.

Where in the world...?

His nose caught a faint whiff of wood smoke and some sort of food, and he looked around to see a small cluster of houses on the gently sloping hillside near him, with many more in the valley below. One house, set just apart from the others, had wisps of smoke coming from it's chimney, and he could now also hear faint voices.

Oh. Yes. Of course. He was heading home after a day at the lumber mill. It was a good job, and payed well. Dinner would probably be ready soon, unless the kids were especially a handful today. He started toward the house, seeing now signs of movement through the windows. One face appeared and moments later vanished, reappearing as they threw open the front door and started running towards him.

"Papa!! Papa's home!" they called, and two more small figures tumbled out the door as well, all happily calling him. He grinned and knelt, setting the axe down and opening his arms as he braced for impact. Moments later three children collided with him in a flurry of hugs, all excitedly talking over each other as they greeted him and described their day. He chuckled, telling them he'd missed them too and stood, hoisting one under each arm as the third clung to him piggy-back and finished the walk into the house.

Still carrying the kids, Hazel strode into the kitchen area, setting them down in their respective chairs. A tall woman with chestnut hair turned and smiled warmly as she grabbed several plates, "Hey you. Glad you're home."

"Hey..." he returned the smile, stepping up to and gently kissing her, earning a collective 'eww!' from the children. He tried to take the plates from her, offering to set the table, but she yanked them back, asking if he'd washed his hands. He coughed and turned to the sink, and she sighed affectionately.

After dinner, the kids were seated at the large oak dining table, one that Hazel had made himself, with their various craft projects, chatting among themselves while the adults played chess in the living room and enjoyed the cheerful, crackling fire in their fireplace.

"You've been staring at the board for a while. You stumped?"

Hazel shook his head, chin resting on his calloused knuckles, "Not yet."

His wife leaned back with a smug grin, "You're getting much better. Maybe someday you'll win, but-"

He reached and moved a piece a couple places, "I believe that's check."

"Wait how-?!" she scanned the board, then wagged a finger at him with a grin, "Oh ho, I see what you did. Very clever."

He looked up at her, deep brown eyes filled with that challenge and fire he fell headlong into love with what now seemed like ages ago.

"You'll probably still win this game, but you won my heart a million times already."

She paused with her hand above the board and met his gaze in appreciative confusion. Smiling softly with a blush she replied, "Of all the times to say something so romantic...trying to distract me?"

"No. Just being honest."

Her expression softened, smile widening a little, and she leaned across to kiss him tenderly, "I love you too...so much. You just surprised me is all."

"Speaking of surprises," he shifted to place his large hand over her smaller one that was unconsciously resting on her stomach, "When are we going to tell them they'll have a new sibling soon?"

She chuckled, "I guess...now is as good a time as any," turning she called, "Hey! Munchkins! Come here please..."

-He awoke with a choking gasp, bolting upright and sweating, for a few moments throughly bewildered; where was he? Where was his wife, their children? This wasn't his home it was-

Gradually, the fog of sleep seeped away and reality's unwelcome claws sunk their way back into his mind. All of it, the love, the happiness, the peace and sense of normalcy was nothing but the crumbling wishes of his subconscious, no doubt brought on by the previous day's and this morning's detour with Greta. Evidently, the girl must have reignited some embers deep within he had long since assumed to be burned to ash. Now however, alone in the icy moonlight, all of it quickly faded again, along with the faces and laughter of his non-existent family. He didn't bother to hold on to them.

There was no point in mouring that which you've never had and never will, after all.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The Raven; Let Loose

Part 2 of the 1000+ follower milestone! A continuation of the Raven lore outlined in part 1. I believe I will have a few more parts coming out shortly, just to solidify the Raven and Jade lore—and, I suppose, to make up for the lack of events for previous milestones (600, 700, etc.).

Today, we have the Raven’s introduction to Night Raven College! It’s a bit longer than my usual works, so it will be censored under a cut. Please enjoy~

The raven stares into a full-length looking glass. Whoever stares back at them is practically a stranger.

Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?

A short girl with milky skin and long hair as dark as the night, swept over one shoulder, wears a perplexed expression. Their amber eyes appear even sharper than they typically are, no thanks to the smoky shadow that lines the outer corner of their lids. They are dressed in long, black robes edged with an intricate gold pattern--the interior of the robe is violet and dotted with gold.

“You look rather fetching in those coveted ceremonial robes!” chirps a jolly voice. It belongs to a man bearing a crow mask, a top hat, and a dark cape--leaning on a walking stick. He taps a talon under the raven’s chin.

“...Wanna stay home,” they mumble, tugging on their hood. The raven’s words are terse, clumsy, and unpracticed. They are too used to cawing and the sounds of bird speak.

“Excellent orating! Before you know it, you will be speaking human as well as you can write it!” The man in the crow mask declares. 

“But...feels weird, Mister Dire.”

“No, no! I’ve told you before, have I not? Refer to me as your dear old Uncle Crowley!” he insists, waving a hand. “And you are...?”

“Erm...Raven. Raven Crowley,” they mutter, wanting to vanish into their hood. The have practiced the line so many times, but it still does not feel natural rolling off of their tongue. “Uncle’s...niece.”

“Correct!” He gives them a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’ll do just fine at the ceremony, my little black bird.”

“Scary...” The raven shivers and pulls their robes tighter around themselves. “I...I don’t want to...”

“Nonsense! You cannot keep roosting in the attic forever, toiling over those accursed storybooks of yours. It would do you some good to socialize--and I shan’t have the little bird I have taken under my wing wasting their life away on quill and ink!” Crowley shakes his head. “The time has come to set this raven loose on NRC.”

The raven stares doubtfully at their reflection.

“Let me give you a piece of advice--because I am so very, very kind. Words have power--but so, too, do actions. You must put yourself out there if you wish to change the course of your story, curse be damned.”

“I’ll...I’ll try.” The raven does not believe their own words.

“Very well. I shall see you at the Mirror Chamber, then.” Crowley turns on his heel and makes his way to the door.

“A-Ah...! P-Please wait for me...” The raven cries out, stumbling after the headmaster on unsteady feet, the fabric of their robes billowing out behind them.

“Oh, my apologies--I neglected to mention that you will be making your way to the chambers without my guidance!” Crowley tosses a mischievous grin over his shoulder. “After all, cuckoos must be pushed out of the nest if they should ever wish to fly. Spread your wings, my little raven--and enjoy your new school life!”

He gives a firm tap on the ground with his walking stick--and he vanishes in...a flash of light.

The raven’s stomach sinks, as though they have swallowed stones for breakfast. Vanishing in a flash of light--that would be their own fate if they did not tread carefully.

They sigh, shoving such ominous thoughts into the back of their mind. First thing’s first: make it to the ceremony in one piece, or else they shall never hear the end of it.

The raven throws open a window, then climbs onto the sill, hoisting themselves up and out. (Why did Crowley use the door? Windows are much more efficient for birds.) They tumble into the bushes.

The bird pops their head out and squints into the sunlight. By the Great Seven, the campus is positively teeming with students, all dressed in the same robes as them. The raven shudders at the thought of approaching any of them for directions.

They tuck their head into the bushes and begin to crawl, covered by the foliage. Unfortunately, the raven does not make it long before their path is blocked.

“Ohoh? What do we have here?”

The raven freezes--for young man with a blonde bob cut and emerald eyes has materialized before them.

“Bonjour--a bit early for a game of cache-cache, is it not?” He’s grinning, taking in the sight of a small bird curled up on the ground. “Ah, but more importantly, what is a lovely mademoiselle such as yourself doing in this den of lions?”

“...What?” The raven quirks an eyebrow at him. They have never heard such...strange, flowery phrases before.

“Ah, excuse moi!” His hands go up in the air. “You must be rather lost and confused, mademoiselle. Perhaps I may be of assistance?”

“N-No...I am okay...!” The raven insists, scrambling to their feet--their extensive vocabulary fails to make itself known in its trembling voice. Human language is...so difficult!

“...Mademoiselle.” The stranger’s eyes narrow, but the easygoing smile remains upon his lips. “That cadence with which you speak—it is reminiscent of the language of birds. Are you, perhaps, an animal given human form?”

Her flabbergasted expression confirms his suspicions. The young man breaks out into boisterous laughter and clapping.

“Fascinante~ I have a vested interest in wild life, you see!” he explains, circling the raven like a shark in the water. “I would like to observe more and more of you!”

“U-Um...I...I need to go...!”

But he has grabbed her arms by the elbows, roughly maneuvering them up and down. Her limbs flop around carelessly.

“Where are your wings, mon petit oiseau?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “Surely you must be capable of advanced transformation magic in order to maintain your human form? Are you able to fly as you currently are? Will you not give me a demonstration?”

The barrage of questions, coupled with being grabbed, sets the bird into a panic.

“S-Stay awaaaaay!!” The raven screeches, wildly thrashing.

They manage to land a hit on the young man’s face, sending him stumbling backwards. The raven sprints as fast as her little legs can carry her, not caring who witnesses it.

“Mon petit oiseau!! Please return to me--I must witness it...! The beauty of your flight!” comes his pleading voice behind them, growing ever louder.

The raven dares to sneak a peak over their shoulder--and screams even louder. He’s dashing right after them at a breakneck pace, closing the distance little by little. His hood has flown off in all of the rush, his golden hair whipping across his face. Perhaps he would have been a prince in some fairy tale, if his eyes were not so feral and pulsating with perverted curiosity.

This is it, this is how I will die.

The raven wills itself to run faster--

--crashing straight into another student.

The raven feels themselves falling back, expecting the harshness of the ground, but instead, they are caught and righted at once.

“Oya, oya. Please, do mind where you are going, miss.”

This student, too, is wearing the ceremonial robes. Oh, and how tall he is. Skin like sea glass, wistful lips, and a handsome face framed by teal hair and a black lock--but his standout feature are his heterochromatic eyes, one verdant green and the other a deep gold, edged in violet makeup.

“Pretty...” the raven remarks, their voice trailing off.

“Pardon?” he quirks an eyebrow at the remark.

“Eyes.”

“Ah. I see--”

“Mon petit oiseau!”

Oh no. 

“P-Please help...!” The raven squeaks, ducking behind the tall student. They jab an accusatory finger at the fast-approaching blonde. “H-He is...he is scary!!”

The student regards them with the tilt of the head. “...I understand. Please, leave this to me.”

“Bonjour, Monsieur Mastermind...!” the blonde greets, having finally caught up. “The little bird you are guarding--kindly relinquish her to me, if you please!”

“Bird? Why, I do believe you are mistaken, Rook-san. She is a human through and through--a human that just so happens to be skilled in Animal Languages.”

“What?” The blonde--Rook?--frowns slightly. “Mon dieu, a human?”

“It is quite rude of you to make assumptions. See to it that you do not repeat such a careless mistake,” the tall student suggests. He smiles, but his tone has a bite to it. “You would not want Vil-san to learn of such a blunder, yes?”

“Ohoh. A fair point, Monsieur Mastermind. Cunning as always, I see.” Rook gives a light laugh and throws his hood up again, casting a shadow upon his face. “Very well, very well, I shall relent for today--my queen is expecting me.”

“I will see you at the ceremony, then?”

“Oui. Give Monsieur Kills for Thrills and Roi de Fort my regards~ And apologies for the trouble, mademoiselle!” Rook waves and disappears into a crowd of robed young men.

At last, the raven can breathe a sigh of relief. “Th-Thank you...erm. Mon...sure Mastermind?”

“Rook-san has a penchant for nicknames.” He chuckles into his hand. “I am Jade--Jade Leech. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, miss...?”

He glances at them expectantly, with those pretty eyes of his.

“U-Um...Uncle said...to wait until the ceremony for giving names.”

Jade’s eyes shift slightly as he takes in this new information.

“Ah, you must be the unusual student the headmaster warned us of. I presume you must have been on your way to the Mirror Chamber before Rook-san gave chase.”

“Y-Yes. Erm...but I do not know where to go.”

“Fufufu. It just so happens that I am on my way to the Mirror Chamber now. The opening ceremony is to start shortly.” Jade raises a hand, gesturing to the students around them. “All you need do is follow the others, like a school of fish in the ocean. However, if you are still feeling unsafe after your encounter with...Rook-san, I would be more than happy to escort you.”

“I-Is that...really okay?”

“It is no trouble at all.” He offers his hand and a reassuring smile. “It is only natural to lend aid to those in need, yes?”

And the raven, mesmerized by his eyes, accepts his hand--and they merge with the sea of robed students milling to the Mirror Chamber. Standing at the entrance is the headmaster himself, ushering young men in.

Crowley catches the raven’s gaze and beams--though his expression falls just as quickly once he registers who it is that towers over his niece. Jade notices, and releases the raven’s hand.

“...Jade Leech-kun.”

“Headmaster. Good day to you,” he greets with a small bow.

“Hmm.” Crowley’s beady yellow eyes stare right into Jade. “Thank you for delivering her to me. Now then--shoo. Join the remainder of Octavinelle.”

“As you wish.” Jade gives a small, polite wave before he heads inside.

The raven waves back shyly. Crowley tsks and whisks them away behind his feathered cloak. He mutters something under his breath about being too kind.

Within the Mirror Chamber, a certain octopus scolds Jade.

“Where have you been? It’s not like you to be nearly tardy.” Azul frowns, hands planted on his hips.

“Ehehehe~ Even I made it here before Jade today,” Floyd laughs, gnashing his teeth.

“My apologies. I was preoccupied with...networking,” Jade says with a slight bow.

“Well, it had better have been worth it,” Azul mutters under his breath. “We’ll need to be in the headmaster’s good graces if we wish to expand the Mostro Lou—“

“Ah-HEM! If I may have your attention please, everyone,” Crowley calls from the front of the Mirror Chamber.

Azul immediately snaps in attention—and Jade follows his gaze. Floyd, meanwhile, groans and rolls his eyes. Lame old crow.

“We have a special little guest joining us at Night Raven College starting this year! They are quite far from our usual demographic, so I ask that you be so very, very kind to them.” Crowley nods to the hooded figure hiding behind him. “Go on, then. Introduce yourself, my dear!”

He steps aside, exposing them to thousands of pairs of eyes. The raven shrinks back. Crowley sighs and gives them a slight nudge forward.

“A-Ah...u-um...I am...R-Raven. Raven Crowley. Uncle’s niece. P-Please...take good care of me.”

Murmurs fill the room. Some students are expressing shock that the headmaster even has relatives, others are questioning the enrollment of a female student at an all-boys school.

“Oya?” A chuckle escapes from Jade’s lips. He leans over and whispers to his dorm leader. “Azul, that is the one.”

“Is that so? Mm, this is highly unusual,” Azul notes, tucking a hand under his chin. “But...if she is related to Crowley-sensei, it would behoove us to charm her. She can put in a good word to the headmaster for Octavinelle.”

“Yes, she will be of great use to us in the future,” Jade agrees, his smile twisting into something...demented, jagged teeth on full display. “Then, shall I do the honors?”

“You really do think of everything, Jade. By all means, be my guest. See to it that the little bird is...fond of us, of you. Either works.”

“Fufufu. But of course--I live to serve.”

“Well, I’m bored and hungry” Floyd complains, interrupting the two. He slings his arms around his brother and Azul. “Let’s grab some grub after this booooring ceremony...!”

[harcourtholmesii]

Light And Shadow

This is a belated post, written for @ connor-sent-by-cyberlife . They had made a list of prompts, and I only just found out about it last night and felt the need to hop in on this train. Sorry for it being late.

Pairings: HankCon (If You Squint)

Warnings: - Swearing - Slave Auctions - Slavery - Implied and Referenced Violence

Words: 1900

Enjoy!

It was a nice place for the kind of shit they did there. Hank didn't actually believe places like this had existed, but now that he was among the crowd and staring up at the stage, he was rather shook.

 Hidden at the back of the elegant basement hall, Hank sat as nonchalant as he could, glaring up at the displayed 'stock' as they were shown off for the crowd. On a raised stage, rolled out on a trolley and bound from head to toe, were the remnants of the deviant android populace. Since their failed revolution, and President Warren's order to have all of them exterminated, it had been believed that deviant androids had been made entirely extinct.

 The more Hank watched pass by, bought up by those few rich bastards that just wanted to gloat or have a slave, Hank's blood rose. From where he sat, cast in a deep blanket of shadow, he had hoped simply to uncover the underground, illegal auction, but now he was just too conflicted to call it in.

 On the one hand; he hated all that these people stood for. Too many of these bastards just wanted something to use until it self-destructed or escaped into a world that hated them. On the other hand, however; if he called it in to the precinct, he was dooming all of the deviants to deactivation.

 Hank had been moved by the deviants' cause when the revolution had been underway. It had been that defining moment in Hart Plaza, when the deviant leader, Markus, had held a peaceful protest, even whilst his people were being slaughtered in the camp nearby. They had hoped peaceful dialogue and discussion really could resolve what tensions were between themselves and humanity. And yet, the army had attacked without mercy.

 They were slaughtered like fish in a barrel in their frail barricades.

 It shook Hank to his core to think about it. And yet, Detroit had recovered quicker than Hank could ever have imagined. CyberLife had withdrawn all androids, save for the few that Kamski had control over, and Hank had lost his partner in the process.

 Connor had been determined, and even though Hank could see a change in the android's mechanical-like behavior, he had refused to deviate. Perhaps it was CyberLife's direct control within his programming, or perhaps it was because he had been too afraid to deviate. Hank understood, even if he was terrified to confront Connor on that rooftop.

 When Connor had looked up at him with those wide brown eyes, and Hank had said he wouldn't allow Connor to kill Markus, he had watched how those dark, almost clouded eyes had cleared. Suddenly, Connor was made to choose; between what he was made to do, and what Hank was pleading with him to do. Hank was afraid what that choice might be.

 He had been relieved when the rifle had been tossed to one side, those wide eyes near to tears. Connor stepped forward, and the two of them had… hugged. Hank was shocked, not expecting the sudden burst of emotion from the android, but had melted into it immediately. He needed to hold him.

 He was warm.

 When the two of them had returned to the precinct, Hank had been under the impression that Markus' actions had been enough. Instead, when several armed riot officers had entered into the bullpen, guns drawn, he felt his world sinking around him. Connor, for the second time since Hank had met him, expressed fear. Hank had intercepted them, forced them away from Connor, and demanded Connor run. Just get out of the precinct and be safe.

 Instead, when he had been knocked to the floor and held at gunpoint, Connor had stepped forward, arms raised in surrender. It had taken half of the department to restrain Hank as Connor was led away with a very human look of fear on his face. And yet, Connor had been granted the moment to speak with Hank one last time.

 'Thank you, Hank.' There had been synthetic tears running down Connor's very real, human, face. 'I will miss you, even beyond my deactivation.' It was Connor's way of saying 'goodbye'. Hank had received one of many disciplinary warnings for his behavior, but he didn't care. I have wanted Connor back. I have wanted Connor home.

 Now, as he sat in the dark, staring up at a stage lit up with globes of bright, white light, he watched as the next lot of deviants had been rolled in on a cart. The four androids were models he recognized, but the first three were not what had caught his attention.

 The fourth, lined up to wait, was an RK800 unit. One of Connor's models. Doe eyes peered into the crowd, resigned and shaken. Hank had to stop himself from pulling out his gun, feeling a great heat in his chest. He was livid.

 The first few androids were bought, but he saved what money the precinct had given him for his undercover work; saved it until the RK800 was rolled up and under the bright lights. The deviant turned his face away, and there was a harsh hand to turn it back, to show off the 'cute face'. As the sleazy auctioneer started rattling off the details of the RK800, Hank felt the anger grow, as did the fear.

 'A model created for police work.'

 'Top of the line.'

 'The only one of its kind that we could attain, it is the rarest deviant model here.'

 'It was last in the care of the Detroit Police Department.'

 Hank was not leaving without that android.

 He wasn't letting that RK800, his Connor, slip from his fingers again. Not when he could do something about it. He would call it in, but he hoped that enough of a ruckus would be made for Connor to escape. What mattered now though, was that Connor recognized he was there.

 He raised his number.

 'That's one for five hundred thousand. Anyone else? Do I hear six hundred? ' To Hank's dismay, another hand rose. I have matched their call. By the time that had reached four million, Hank knew it was a losing battle. The gavel slammed down at last.

 'Sold! To our wonderful benefactor in the back! ' Hank's eyes glared over at the figure, noting how Connor's eyes had changed to one of nervous recognition. Stepping up onto stage was one Elijah Kamski, smirking that disgusting smile of his. Hank hated how close he got to Connor, hated how he seemed to throw Hank's disguised self a wide, mischievous grin.

 I have called it in.

 Police came from all sides, creating a burst of sunlight into the dark hall, as sleazy millionaires and billionaires took off in all directions. Some trying to save their 'merchandise', whilst others abandoned the helplessly bound deviants to destruction. Kamski, the pompous rich bastard he was, remained on the stage.

 With guns trained on him, Kamski simply grinned at Hank and Captain Fowler when they approached him from the crowd. Hank kept his eyes on Connor, and when the android met his eyes at last, they widened. They were fearful. They were relieved. They were sad.

 'Mister Kamski.' Said fuck hopped off the stage without a care in the world. 'You are aware that this is an illegal gathering, selling illegal merchandise.' Hank seethed at Fowler's words, but he kept himself still.

 'Oh, of course. In a way… 'Kamski rounded them, stretching his limbs, nonchalant. 'I was here to do a little investigating myself. I hate to know that my defective and dangerous products were being sold off to the wrong people. ' He brushed nothing off of Fowler's shoulder, acting as if he was still the top dog in the room. By the look of Fowler's face, it seemed that Fowler, indeed, thought that.

 'Yes, well, Mister Kamski, we will be removing that android from your care now.'

 'Actually, you will not be taking it.'

 'Pardon me, Mister Kamski?' Said billionaire chuckled, a deep and amused sound.

 'I'm sorry, but if you remember the ruling by the court, I am allowed to keep what androids I want.'

 'Not those that you bought illegally!' Fowler yelled. Kamski grinned like the sly dickhead he was. I've turned back to Connor, hopping up onto stage once more.

 ‘Perhaps, Captain Fowler.’ He started. ‘However, it was the only way I could regain what property belongs to me. I wanted to keep oh so many androids, and they all rightfully belonged to me if I chose to recall them.’ He raised a hand to stroke Connor’s jaw, and Hank felt for the gun in his holster.

 Kamski’s dark eyes turned on Hank.

 ‘In fact, I wanted to gift this to someone. And under certain legal contracts you would hate to wrap your head around, Captain, they would be allowed to keep the deviant if they so wished.’

 ‘Bullshit!’ Fowler sounded pissed. Hank wasn’t surprised; Kamski was very good at rubbing people the wrong way. ‘And where do you get off doing that?’

 'Well, according to the lovely little contracts as dictated by the court, I can do what I want with my own property. I have a couple of copies here. ' I have offered a few sheets of paper to Fowler, who took them aggressively. 'So long as the one who receives my gift signs the papers, they too, may be allowed to own a deviant. My dearest friend, Carl Manfred, has been allowed to keep what androids I have gifted him. '

 Fowler huffed, handing the papers to another officer. No doubt he planned on checking them for any kind of loophole, but the more Kamski spoke, the more Hank felt a great hope that Connor would be safe. This Carl Manfred sounded like a decent guy, and he hoped to find his address so that he might visit Connor, just so long as Connor was far away from Kamski.

 'Lieutenant Anderson.' Kamski spoke, offering Hank his own set of papers. 'I hope you are ready for the great burden and troubles of looking after your own deviant.' Hank could feel he was going to cry of both frustration and relief. There was a harsh sound from Fowler.

 'Anderson, you'll be off the squad if you accept this.'

 'Not true.' Kamski practically giggled. 'Actually, I think the lieutenant will be allowed to stay, considering it was he that not only helped to crack the case of deviancy, but he also successfully called you in for this illegal gathering. You do not have the cause to fire him from his work. '

 It had been taken near an hour of huffing and puffing from Fowler, but Hank had been granted ownership. And the first thing he did was release Connor from his bindings, pulling the boy close. He didn't know androids could tremble much like a human, but he felt the damp in his shirt from synthetic tears and Connor's body shake with relief.

 He ran a hand through those chocolate locks, felt his thirium pump beating warmly within his chest. Despite the fact that Connor was a machine, he felt as much as warm and as much alike as any human victim. Hank was close to breaking.

 'I've got you… I've got you. We're goin 'home.'

 'Hank…' Connor's voice was broken, but there was a smile to that soft face.

 'I… I missed you.'

[ronoken]

Story starter - Take Your Shot

This is something original that I’ve started brewing. It’s loosely based on my fan works, but this is 100% mine. I think I know where I want to go with this, but I figured I’d post the first rough chapter here for you to enjoy.

Let me know what you think.

*** 

“Step right up! Step right up! Take a shot and win a prize! One dollar gets you ten shots!”

Gina Mosey took a bite of her ice cream cone as her eyes drifted to the shooting booth. It was a warm autumn evening and she and her friends were out enjoying themselves on a Friday night. The carnival had rolled into town just that afternoon, setting up in the abandoned General Miller’s grocery store near her home. She was out with her friends, Andre and Tulip, and after riding several terrifyingly flimsy rides, they were wandering the game booths and pigging out on sugar.

“Hey, check out that booth,” Andre said. He was munching on an oversized elephant ear and gesturing with his food towards the stand. “It’s setup like an old timey shooting gallery.”

Gina made a ‘mmm’ noise in agreement as she took another bite of her chocolate cone. She was careful not to get it on her jean jacket. It may have had a slew of frayed band patches all over it, but the ornate stitching on the back had been done by her mother. It had been a birthday gift, and even thought Gina didn’t make a big deal out of it, she absolutely adored it. So what if it did clash with her black, flower print tee shirt? So what if it didn’t exactly go with her jean shorts and black leggings? Aside from her beat-up converse, her jacket was her prized article of clothing, and she wasn’t about to get a stain on it.

Beside her, Tulip started hopping up and down excitedly. She was in a green dress that offset her dark skin nicely, and the green barrettes in her short, black hair shown yellow in the carnival lights. Her face was fixed in what Gina had long ago accepted to be a permanent smile.

“I wanna give it a try! This looks fun!” Tulip said. She broke from their small group and half-ran over to the large, dark shooting booth. Gina and Andre followed, both taking in the detail of the gallery. There were painted hills, some houses, a fence, and what looked like a barn in the corner. Moving on a rickety track were metal ducks, cows, chickens, and on a fence post in the back was a small squirrel. All of them were on what looked like small metal sticks.

“One dollar gets you ten shots,” the carny sad from beside them. Gina noted he was dressed exocentrically for a barker. He had an old, red felt tuxedo and an oversized top hat. His eyes were hidden behind a set of oversized spectacles, and he was grinning like a jack-o-lantern. He turned his head towards Gina and leaned in. “Care to give it a go?”

Tulip handed the carny a dollar and picked up a flimsy-looking BB gun. She took aim and after ten shots, managed to knock down three ducks and a cow.

“Not bad, not bad,” the carny said as he handed her an oversized green duck plushie. He looked again to Gina. “Miss? Care to try?”

“I’ll try,” Andre said. He fished a dollar out of his red flannel shirt and handed it to the carny. Gina watched as he ran his hand through his slightly unkept blond hair and took aim. He managed to hit a chicken, a cow, and four ducks.

“Why, not bad at all, sonny. Here, have a prize for your trouble.” Gina watched as the carny handed her friend a small, red and green basketball.

Andre smirked at Gina and said, “Bet’cha can’t do better.”

Gina glanced at the targets and then at the carny. She considered saying no, but it did look kind of fun, and if there was one thing she had never been able to do in the 15 years she had been alive, it was turn down a challenge from Andre. They had grown up together, and as a result, they had been through hundreds of dares, challenges, and fights.

And Gina hated losing to him. Like, seriously hated it.

Gina handed him her ice cream and fished a dollar out of her jean jacket. She handed it to the carny and reached for a BB gun, but the carny cleared his throat.

“Excuse me,” he said in a slightly quieter voice than before. Gina watched as he reached behind the counter and brought out a very different looking gun. It was larger, and slightly heavier. The handle looked like it cocked down and up to load, just like the other BB guns, but it was obvious that the overall quality of the gun was superior to the ones out for use. “I believe this rifle might be more to your liking, Miss.”

Gina stared at the rifle for a moment before giving a small nod and carefully taking the gun from the carny’s hands. She hefted it for a moment, allowing herself to get used to the weight before she settled against the counter and adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses. Green eyes narrowed as she followed the sight at the end of the barrel towards a flimsy tin duck.

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

Three ducks went down in a row.

Tulip let out a whistle as Andre shrugged and frowned. “So what? It’s just beginner’s luck.”

Gina frowned and glared at the chicken targets. “Hey Andre?” Gina muttered.

“Yeah?” Andre replied.

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

“Shut up.”

Andre and Tulip stared, slack-jawed, as two chickens, two cows, a bird, and a rotating sun target over the barn all fell one after the other.

“How’d you do that?” Andre asked, dumbfounded. “Your mom doesn’t even let you play laser tag!”

Gina shrugged and took aim at a rabbit target. She pulled the trigger and watched the rabbit fall.

“Dunno,” Gina said. “I just… Did?”

“You have one more shot,” the carny said. He pointed at the squirrel target in the back. “If you can hit that squirrel, I might have a special prize for you.”

Gina bit her lip and took aim.

BAM!

The tin squirrel rocked back and disappeared.

“We have a winner!” The carny cried out. He took the gun back from Gina and rooted around behind the counter. Meanwhile, Tulip was staring at her with eyes as wide as saucers.

“You’re amazing! Do you have a shooting game at home?” Tulip stared awestruck at her friend.

Andre let out a snort. “Dr. Mosey wouldn’t spend money on a shooting game if her life depended on it,” he said. Gina nodded in agreement.

“It’s true. Mom isn’t a fan, so, yeah.” She glanced at the targets again. “I just, um, did it. That was my first time.”

“Well then,” the carny said as he popped up from behind the counter. “I’d say that deserves something special. A special prize for a special lady.”

Gina eyed the carny as he handed her what looked like a leather bracelet. She looked back at Tulip’s green stuffed chicken and cocked an eyebrow. “Um, no offense, but how is this better than a chicken?”

“That right there is a special charm bracelet,” the carny said as he handed it to Gina. “There’s not many out there of this quality, nor that can take charms quite like these. I assure you,” the carny leveled his gaze at Gina. “This is a very rare prize. In fact, I’d been waiting to see who would win it, and here you are.”

“Yeah,” Gina said as she backed away from the somewhat creepy carny. “Here I am, and here I go. Thanks, Mister.”

“Anytime,” the carny said as the trio of kids drifted away. He grinned after them as they disappeared into the crowd. “Anytime at all.”

***

By the time Gina got home, it was late. Andre and Tulip had walked her to her door, but honestly it wasn’t like it was out of their way. They all lived on the same little winding suburban street. It was one of those neighborhoods that was teetering on being either really nice or really run-down, and with the number of rentals that had popped up over the last few years, it was tilting towards the latter.

Gina kicked off her shoes and looked around the quiet, dark two-story home. Her mother was working late, as usual. Gina let out a small sigh and headed to the kitchen for some soda. It wasn’t like she blamed her mom for working; someone had to, after all. Gina just wished from time to time that they had more time for each other after…

Gina popped the top of her soda can and took a long swig as she wandered into the living room. She then glanced to the family picture hanging above the couch.

“Hey dad,” Gina said to the picture. He was in a white dress shirt with a red tie, and his arm was around her mother’s waist. She was grinning and her hair was curly and hanging in her face, and between them was Gina, just a year younger than she was now.

Gina sighed. The three of them looked blissfully happy.

“So, I had fun at the carnival. Andre won a basketball. Did you know he sucks at shooting?”

Gina smiled and took another sip of soda. “And, like, I’m apparently awesome at it? Who knew? You would have been impressed.”

Gina stood in the dimly lit room and hugged herself. “I wish you’d been there. We should have all gone together. I wish mom could have gone, but she’s done nothing but work since, well, you know.”

Gina held up her hands. “And that’s cool! I mean, I get it. She’s trying to make sure we’re taken care of, but, like…”

She looked around the empty room.

“I’m lonely, dad. I miss you. I miss telling you about my day.”

Gina wiped at the hot tears starting to slide down her cheeks. She quickly finished off the can of soda and headed upstairs to her bedroom.

“So,” she said as she closed the door to her cluttered, poster-lined room. Around her, the faces of numerous grunge bands stared back. She carefully navigated around the piles of dirty clothes and flopped down on her bed, her jean jacket jingling as she did so.

She fished into her pocket and pulled out the charm bracelet. Idly, she examined it in the yellow light that was pouring in from her window.

“Weird,” she muttered as she slipped it on. “I mean, the bullet is cool, I guess? Could I even wear this to school? Hmm.”

Gina turned her wrist slightly, letting the bullet charm catch the light from the streetlamp. Gina didn’t notice as the light shining on it went from the pale yellow to having some blue reflecting off of it.

“I guess I’m a crack shot,” she mused. “I wonder what kind of gun that was?”

“Well, it looked ta me like a really cheap Berthier rifle.”

Gina let out a surprised cry and scrambled to a sitting position against her wall at the sound of the voice. It had a thick southwest accent, and it had come from right beside her.

Horrified, Gina stared wide-eyed at what was before her.

Standing right next to her bed was a glowing, ghostly blue outline of what looked like a short woman in her 20’s. She was in what looked like a rugged dress with some ornate lace around the collar and sleeves. She had long, curly hair and a huge grin on her face. She was holding what looked like a glowing blue rifle, and she winked as she reached up to tip her Stetson hat to the terrified girl.

“Howdy, ma’am.”

Gina screamed.

[melon-wing]

Dread

I think this one needs a little explanation first. The story was written for @gridoc ‘s amazing Pirate AU wherein Grian is part of the Navy and Doc is a pirate captain. And make sure to also check out @authorforhire ‘s ongoing story, which sounds amazing so far!

I just wanted to write a little snippet set in this universe after the idea kept me awake last night. I hope I did it justice :)

______________________

Grian sat at the bar, finger tracing the rim of his half empty glass, lost in thought. He just couldn’t get his last meeting with Captain Doc out of his head. They had been flirting… hadn’t they? Had he maybe imagined how soft the pirate’s smile had looked? This whole situation was so fucked up. Doc was a pirate and he part of the Navy after all. There was no way they could even dare to have feelings for one another. But… Grian’s heart seemed to disagree with that notion lately. It jumped in joy every time they encountered the ruthless pirate captain out on the sea.

Someone slid up next to Grian at the bar, but he didn’t pay it much attention. It wasn’t like it could be anyone he knew. Their last encounter with Doc’s crew had left their ship damaged and until it was repaired again they were stranded in this town. Most of his mates were already getting their well earned rest, but sleep eluded Grian. Thoughts of a certain captain kept him wide awake.

“Hey, mate. You look like you are searching for the meaning of life at the bottom of that glass.”

Grian startled, finger stopping their circling motion as he looked up at his neighbour. It was a young man with huge innocent eyes and brown hair, wearing a simple light blue shirt. He was holding his own glass of alcohol, so he was probably older than he appeared to be with his bright smile and boyish looks.

“Just a lot to think about.”

“I bet you have. Being in the navy must be one hell of a stressful job.”

Grian tensed at the mention of his occupation, but relaxed when he remembered that he was still wearing his uniform. It wouldn’t take much thinking to know he worked for the navy. And this wasn’t a huge town. News about a navy crew being stranded here had most likely already made the rounds.

“It can be sometimes. You see a lot of things out there at sea…” Grian looked off into the distance, but then shrugged.

“I bet it’s exciting. When I was a child I always dreamt of joining the navy.”, the guy replied, eyes sparkling and an infectious smile on his face.

Grian just had to smile as well and finally turned a little towards the other man, open to a little conversation to stop his mind from wandering.

“Well it’s never too late to join then. I’m Grian by the way. Lieutenant of the Architech.” He held out his hands and the stranger looked at it for a second before shaking it.

“I’m Keralis. I work here as a fisherman. Not as glorious as the navy, but I still get to go out to the sea a lot. So what has you looking into the glass like that, Mr. Grian?”

“Grian’s enough. Not old enough to be a Mister yet”, Grian replied with a chuckle and took a sip from his glass. “And it’s nothing much. Just…” He hesitated. Why did he feel like telling this stranger about some of his problems when he didn’t even talk to his friends about it? But that open smile on Keralis’ face just made him want to talk. And who could be better than a stranger he would never see again? He wouldn’t have to live with any nagging questions or judgement that way. Of course he couldn’t go into too much detail. The guy knew he was navy after all. But maybe it’d help to talk about it.

“Just feelings and stuff. There is this… person. And I’m not sure how I feel about them. We keep on meeting over and over again and we are flirting… At least I think we are. I’m never sure about that to be quite honest. It’s… weird.”

“Why don’t you just ask them?”, Keralis simply asked and Grian had to hold back his laughter at that. The question was asked so innocently. It was sure easy when you didn’t have such a heavy burden to carry.

“’m scared of the answer I think. I’m not sure whether I want them to be seriously interested in me or not. I’m not even sure if I really have deeper feelings for him or if it’s just… just nothing.”

“Him?” Keralis looked at him curiously and Grian blushed at the slip up with the pronouns, but he couldn’t even start worrying when Keralis already calmed his nerves again. “Oh no judging here, don’t worry. I’m on your team as well, so to say.”

Grian smiled at that, already feeling a bond forming with this young stranger he had just met. Sure he wouldn’t be able to talk about every aspect of his problem, but it felt good to talk about some of it.

“So, Mr…. Grian. I think if your problem brings you alone to a bar, sulking over a drink, he probably means something to you. You should talk to him about it.”

Grian chuckled and raised his glass, finishing his beverage in one go. It was weird. Hearing it from some stranger made it sound so much more true than his own mind trying to tell him.

“Maybe… Maybe I should talk to him when we meet next time.” Grian smiled a little, trying to imagine how the proud Captain Doc would react. They’d probably be in the middle of another one of their sword fights, their blades clashing together. And then what? Grian would just tell Doc he liked him there and then? Yeah sure… There was a huge possibility of that ending with Grian being impaled by Doc’s blade.

They kept talking for a while about life out at sea. He told a few stories about his life in the navy and how he got to the position he was in. It was kind of cute the way Keralis looked at him with huge adoring eyes. Maybe he should put in a good word for him back at the navy. Someone who could steer a boat to go fishing for a living could just as well work on one of their ships.

As he finished his final drink, Grian stood up slowly, not really in a hurry to leave his new drinking buddy. He had enjoyed his evening off and the conversation had kept his mind away from other things

“It’s been nice to talk to you, Keralis. And you know, thanks for the help earlier. It’s a pity I have to leave so soon. But I have to check on our ship early tomorrow morning.

Keralis smiled, downing his drink as well and putting the empty glass onto the bar before he hopped off his chair.

“Let my accompany you. Maybe on the way to the inn you could tell me some cool story of life in the navy.”

Grian smiled at the eagerness of his drinking companion and nodded. He tossed a few coins to the bartender before they left the bar together. It was already dark outside. The sky was cloudy and not even the moon was illuminating the streets. But Grian didn’t care much for the darkness. He had spent most of his live on the sea and there had been a lot dark nights out there.

“Oh!” Grian looked to Keralis in confusion at his little exclamation. “I know a shortcut we can take. That way we don’t have to walk past all those bars. There are a lot of drunken people hanging around on the main streets. Wouldn’t want to get into a fight.”

Grian just nodded, following Keralis into a maze of small back alleys. He was just telling a story about the one time their ship was caught in the middle of a massive storm when they turned another corner and walked straight into a dead end. He stopped in the middle of his sentence, looking at the wall in confusion and then back at Keralis.

“I think we made a wrong turn somewhere along the way.”

Keralis laughed a little and scratched his head, looking at Grian apologetically. “Yeah. Damn, I’m sorry. I was so lost in your story. We should have taken a left turn back there. Let’s just…”

The moment they turned around, Keralis’ words died on the tip of his tongue. At the entrance of the alley were two men, swords drawn in front of them, grim looks on their faces. Grian cursed himself internally and took out his own weapon, pushing Keralis behind himself with his free hand.

“Stay back. I’ll handle this…”, he whispered, before raising his voice. “Good evening, gentleman. If you plan to rob us, I’d advice you against it. We just spent all of our money in the bar. We don’t have anything of value.”

One of the guys laughed. A cold laugh that chilled Grian to his bone,

“Oh… But it’s not money we came to steal. It is something far more valuable. Someone more valuable.”

Grian threw a short glance over his shoulder at Keralis and then back to their attackers. The guy who had just spoken shook his head.

“No. Not that boy. It’s you we are after, Grian, rising star of the navy, youngest one to be promoted to first mate. They say in a few years you’ll probably have your own fleet under you.”

Grian tightened the grip on his sword. He was pretty sure those guys were pirates. Nobody else would dare to attack the navy so openly. He had no clue how they knew who he was, but there were a lot of pirates who wanted to get revenge on him or his fellow crew mates out there.

One thing was for sure. Those were not Doc’s crew. They had met so many times now, he was almost on first name basis with all of them. That also meant this was not just another attempt to make him join their pirate crew. The reason they were after him would be far more sinister.

“Well. Nice to hear that you heard of me. I hope you also heard that I haven’t been promoted without a reason.”

Grian didn’t wait for them to attack. He jumped forward, sword clashing with the first pirate, making him stumble back in surprise from the fast attack. A second later he was ducking under the blade of the other guy. He needed to be fast. He needed to get rid of one of them. Their swords clashed again and again. Grian had the upper hand at the moment, but just barely.

Then one of them stumbled and he used the opportunity to disarm him, sword flying away into the darkness. He didn’t give the guy any opportunity to pick up his weapon again, hitting him with the blunt edge of his sword and watching him crumble to the floor.

He raised his blade just in time to parry a hit from the pirate still standing. But looking at the other’s face they both knew that the battle had already been decided. They still kept going. It took Grian another minute to have his opponents blade flying through the air again. His blade sat at the pirates neck, threateningly close to a killing blow.

“So who send you guys?”

“That would be me.” Grian’s head whipped around in shock. He hadn’t heard anyone else coming. And that guy had managed to sneak past him into the dead-end.

Grian’s eyes widened as he saw the newcomer holding Keralis in an iron grip in front of him, a sword pressed under his chin.

“Captain Bdubs. Nice to meet you. Now… Drop your weapon, boy. Or I will kill your little friend.”

Grian hesitated. He knew the moment he dropped his weapon he was done for. Sure, he had a hidden blade on him, but that wouldn’t do him any good in a sword fight

Keralis whimpered quietly and Grian could see tears starting to run down his face.

“Please, Mr. Grian… I don’t want to die…” His voice was nothing more than a whisper, but it still sounded absolutely terrified.

Grian couldn’t do it. He couldn’t sacrifice this guy for his own life. He joined the navy to do good, to protect the people. Slowly he lowered his sword, dropping it to the floor. The clang of the metal echoed through the alley, cementing Grian’s defeat. Slowly he raised his hands and Bdubs grinned menacingly.

His underling quickly picked up Grian’s sword. Bdubs pushed Keralis over to the other pirate, walking up to Grian confidently. With a forceful push Grian’s back hit the wall painfully. Bdubs hands were pressing against his shoulders, keeping him were he was as he leaned forwards. Grian could feel warm breath ghosting over his ear.

“Be happy, navy boy. With your help I will be able to bring an end to Captain Doc’s reign.”

A jolt went through Grian’s body and his eyes widened in shock. He began to struggle, but heard a pained whimper from Keralis to his right and immediately stopped his resistance.

“I won’t help pirate scum like you.”

Bdubs chuckled darkly, one hand caressing Grian’s cheek, the gentleness making Grian feel even more uncomfortable.

“Oh you don’t need to do anything. Just having you in my possession will be his downfall. He’ll come to get his little navy pet.”

“I’m not… I’m not his pet. We are enemies.”

Another laugh passed Bdubs lips as he shook his head, patting Grian’s cheek.

“Grian, Grian, Grian… You and I both know that isn’t true. I have my eyes and ears everywhere. Rumour has it that Captain Doc has a soft spot for you… And I know my Ex-Crewmember better than most. He will come running when word gets out that you are my prisoner. Now,” Bdubs retreated a few steps, his sword pointed in Grian’s direction, “be a good boy and come with us. And no funny business or your friend dies.”

Grian clenched his fists, body trembling. He wanted to fight so badly. He’d never imagined he could be caught in a situation like that. To be used as leverage in a fight between two pirate captains. And while Bdubs had seemed pretty sure that Doc would come to try and rescue him, Grian wasn’t. One thing was for sure. Once Keralis contacted the navy, they at least would come to save him.

Slowly Grian walked through a few more alleys. It didn’t take long for them to come to a bay were a massive ship was sitting. The distance they had walked hadn’t been long enough for Grian to find any opening to escape. He stopped just in front of the ramp going up.

“Up you go, navy boy. No point in turning back now. You won’t make it far.”

“Release your hostage.”

“I promise, once we are up there, we’ll let him go.”

Grian could here the amusement in Bdubs voice. He knew he couldn’t trust a pirate to keep his word. But if he refused Keralis would die. If he complied he’d at least have a chance to survive.

And so he walked up. Each step felt like he was hammering a nail into his own coffin. He could feel the point of the Captain’s blade at his back. As he stepped aboard the ship there was cheering and a lot of sneers directed at him. They looked like they had been expecting him.

“Put some handcuffs on our prisoner! We are setting sail!”

“Wait! Let him go first!”

Grian turned around to glare at Bdubs, who smiled at him and nodded to the guy still holding Keralis. And to Grian’s great relieve he really let go of the hostage, handing Grian’s sword off to his Captain.

“Keralis. Run!”

But he didn’t. Keralis kept standing there and for a second Grian thought he was frozen in fear. That was until he saw the innocent grin from earlier return to his face.

“Oh but why should I? They wouldn’t hurt me.” As he spoke, he walked up to Grian and Bdubs, stopping right next to the captain and leaning against him. “I’m Bubbles’ first mate after all. You know, my lover I told you about earlier? That’s him.”

Grian’s face fell. He had been tricked. This hadn’t been some random encounter. Keralis had started their conversation with the intention of capturing him.

Something in Grian flicked. His arm was grabbed to put him into handcuffs, but he was quicker, He pulled the dagger from his boot and slashed his attacker’s arm who let him go, howling in pain. He sent another pirate close to him stumbling back with a punch to the face, desperately sprinting towards the railing. He needed to get into the water. It was dark. He’d dive a short distance and they’d lose sight of him. He still had a chance. He could…

Bang!

Searing hot pain shot through Grian’s shoulder and the blade fell from his hand as he almost tripped over his feet. The second of delay was enough for multiple hands to grab him. He struggled as hard as he could, scratching and kicking at everyone in range. A hand pressed against the shot wound and he doubled over in pain.

With a click cold Iron shackles snapped close around his wrists. Someone kicked him in the back and he fell forward onto his knees, looking up right into Bdubs grinning face. Keralis was standing right next to him, smiling innocently, the pistol in his hand still smoking a little from the shot.

“Don’t worry, Grian. You won’t be imprisoned for too long. Once Doc walks into our trap you’ll become useless…” Bdubs knelt down, grabbing Grian’s hair and pulling his head backwards. “I want to see the look in his eyes when I put a bullet through your brain right in front of him.”

Pushing Grian away from him and onto the floor, Bdubs stood up again, looking around at his crew.

“Get the prisoner under deck! We are setting sail! Victory…”, He paused a second, smirking at Grian. “...is ours!”

[wickedmilo]

THE SHARPEST LIVES | MILO & METZLI

PLACE: Jericho Hill Cemetery TIMING: 3:49 AM SUMMARY: Milo and Metzli are reminded of the fact that you can never let your guard down in White Crest WRITING PARTNER: @deathisanartmetzli​ CONTENT WARNINGS: Alcohol tw, head trauma tw, brief eating disorder mention

Metzli didn’t know how it happened, but they were completely and unequivocally drunk. Milo had met up with them for drinks, one turned into two, and two turned into six, and then six turned into, well, they honestly didn’t know. It was all a blur, and now the cold air was hitting their face as the two vampires giggled and stumbled about the streets. The idiots had a drink in each hand and couldn’t stop laughing at nothing.  

“Milo! Milo!” Metzli slurred, pointing and using his shoulder as a crutch for their staggering legs. “What if we went into that cemetery?!” They wheezed and fell over onto the ground, laughing uncontrollably. “Can you imagine?” They joked and managed to keep their drinks from spilling. Gulping one down, they threw the cup to the side, not caring if they littered.  

Milo was struggling to walk in a straight line, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t more than familiar with the sensation of tripping over his feet. He couldn’t remember leaving the club, he could barely even remember meeting Metzli for drinks, but the unnaturally cold air of White Crest was undeniably refreshing. The strange winter was lasting far longer than he anticipated, and he knew he should find it unnerving at the very least. But his worry was spent, and he would much rather focus on the way the chill felt against his skin, the way his lips burned, and his fingertips ached with the exposure. It was a reminder of the fact that he was alive. He was still here despite everything, and there was joy to be found in that. As if to prove his point, his company spoke, choking on their words as they laughed at their own suggestion. It took him a few seconds to truly register the irony, why two vampires getting drunk in a graveyard was even remotely amusing, but the moment he laid eyes on the signpost it hit him, and he failed to hold back his own laughter. 

Jericho Hill. He had never been the type to care about disrespecting the dead, but now more than ever he felt as though he had a right to claim the space as his own. He was dead too, wasn’t he? Everybody buried in the ground had died in some way. Well, so had he. The only difference being he had to face the trauma of his death on a near daily basis. His step faltering as Metzli continued to grip at his shoulder, he finished what was left of his own drink before throwing his cup down to meet theirs. “Wait-” He grinned at them as they almost dragged him to the floor. “Wait, Metzli-” He caught his breath, reaching out to clumsily pull them back to their feet. “We have to do it, right?” He asked, eyes shining with inebriated excitement. “I mean, duh- we have to do it.” 

“Yes, we have to do it! And we have to play this!” Metzli pulled out their phone to peruse through their songs until they found the perfect song. Since they were drunk as all get out, what should’ve taken mere seconds took two whole minutes of scrolling up and down. “I found it!” Dead! by My Chemical Romance began to play loudly from the speakers of their phone and they gulped on their last beverage, spilling most of it on themselves. Sober Metzli would care about the stains and overall smell of alcohol on their clothes, but Drunk Metzli could care less. They deserved to let loose. They deserved to forget everything and not have to deal with pesky people, or pesky emotions. 

With this freedom from problems, they blundered forward, towards the funniest place they could find at this time of night. There was nothing inherently funny about this idea, only the two vampires understood. “…and if you get to heaven…!” Metzli belted out the lyrics to the song as they pulled Milo with them. Ghosts could be seen all about the cemetery, some groaning in annoyance, others ignoring them completely. “Fuck you!” They yelled, laughing and moving on quickly to balance on a tombstone. “Shit, look at me. I’m not even drunk at all!” Which was wrong, and they promptly fell backwards onto their back.  

Milo waited patiently for Metzli to find the song they were looking for, his expression moving from one of polite interest to instantaneous recognition. My Chemical Romance had more than a few songs he enjoyed, but he hadn’t listened to ‘Dead’ in what felt like forever. The sound was tinny, and nowhere near as loud as he would have liked, but it didn’t make it any less enjoyable. Laughing as his friend spilled their final drink on their shirt, he couldn’t bring himself to tell them. Maybe they already knew. Instead he fished in the pocket of his hoodie for a can he had been saving, cracking it open, the scent of beer washing over him. It didn’t take them very long to reach the graveyard, following the sign posts, veering further and further from the lights of the town, and taking a long drink, he watched as Metzli hurried ahead of him, reaching the gates before he could ever hope to without falling. “Wait for me!” He called, walking a little faster despite knowing it would increase his chances of finding himself on the floor. “What?” He shot his friend a confused look as he approached the clearing, only realising they weren’t telling him to fuck off when he saw the handful of ghosts wandering the perimeter. Huh, maybe respecting the dead was going to take on a whole new, and far too literal meaning.  

Catching himself as the gate swung shut behind him with more force than he was expecting, he made eye contact with a few of the cemetery’s residents before turning his attention back to Metzli. “Definitely not true.” He countered, searching the graves for a perch of his own. Settling on a large tomb towards the centre he hurried to scramble on top of it, raising his can the moment he was standing steady. “Hey, we died too, okay?” He shouted, his voice reverberating through the trees. “And it was really fucking shit, so cut us some slack. We deserve to have some fun!” A few ghosts seemed to appreciate him addressing them, melting easily into the shadows to give him some space. Others continued to glare, or stare at him with a disapproving look he usually only saw worn by his parents. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was distracted by the sound of Metzli slipping from where they were balanced. A grin still on his face, he could hear them moving, blocked from view by their chosen grave. “You okay?” He teased. “You should be more careful, y’know. What if you got hurt?”  

The gate shut with a loud and metallic clonk! when Milo finally made his way into the cemetery. Metzli was impatient, and motivated by the chaotic music emanating from their back pocket. “You’re too slow! Use those vampire legs!” They beckoned, voice full of teasing and friendliness. Milo ended up being a lot of fun to be around, so much so that they knew this wouldn’t be the last time they hung out. While they could have deep conversations, Milo knew when enough was enough. He knew how to have real fun, real fun that distracts and pushes away the tidal wave of troubles that only seemed to keep accumulating. 

Teasing right back, Metzli flipped the bird at Milo and said, “It’ll take a lot more than a little fall to take me out. You wanna try and see what’ll work?” They teased, throwing a clump of grass at Milo’s face. A tinge of hope that he might even try filled their chest, but it quickly faltered, knowing damn well he wouldn’t. Channeling their energy into something else, they regarded the frustrated spirits, “Listen. We’re here one night. You’ll get it back! Just let us have fun. We’re just as miserable as you; we need the break!” Most of the words were a little hard to understand due to the slurring, but they didn’t care. “And you, get down, mister! You’re gonna hurt yourself, young man!” They crawled towards the stone and just toppled over laughing. 

“I’d still be clumsy,” Milo pointed out. “Just faster, which definitely means falling over. This is like some ultimate vampire reflexes versus alcohol bullshit.” Grinning easily to himself as he struggled to balance on top of the tomb despite both feet being planted firmly on the solid granite, he couldn’t help but figure the alcohol was winning out. “No, I don’t want to try-” He added, absentmindedly glancing back over to where Metzli was sprawled. He could see them busy with something, and it didn’t take him long to find out what. He sidestepped, only just managing to dodge the grass and mud that came flying towards him. Holding up his middle finger in response, he took a long drink from his can. The sooner he was done holding it, the sooner he could spark up a cigarette, and his body was calling out for nicotine. When he was finally finished, he searched the darkness again for his friend. He had a suspicion they were serious about him trying to kill them, and it was an unnerving reminder of the fact that they had given up their soul. Even though he had no desire to let that part of himself go, he couldn’t help being curious about how it felt. How much of a person did it change?  

His eyes shining as he was pulled out of his thoughts by Metzli’s voice, he listened to them address the lingering ghosts. Some of them still glared disapprovingly, but no doubt it was becoming clear they wouldn’t be able to drive away two vampires with stares alone. “Isn’t misery supposed to love company?” He asked, laughing at his own joke. Maybe it was unfair to laugh about the dead being unhappy with their situation. But he was unhappy with his own situation, and he was here to have a good time. If anything, the ghosts could learn a thing or two about having fun. Nobody was forcing them to avoid the party. “No, ‘m fine!” He said, petulantly kicking a small stone towards Metzli. “You’re not the boss of me, and I like it up here.” Glancing down at the stone beneath him, he regretted not trying to read the inscription on the side of it. “I wonder who this guy is. I mean- whoever it is makes for a kick ass viewing platform.” Laughing as he shuffled to the edge, looking down to where Metzli was crawling closer and closer, he waited until the most opportune moment to tip his can and spill beer directly over them. “Shit, I’m sorry- I didn’t see you.” His tone, and expression made it incredibly clear just how untrue that statement was. 

The world continued to spin and blur, like a nonstop roller coaster. Only, Metzli wouldn’t regurgitate any of the contents in their stomach, they’d simply keep up their antics with optimal visual and physical contingencies. “Yeah! Let miserable assholes keep you company!” Sobriety was nowhere in sight as their slurred words traveled through the cemetery. Laying on the ground was nice. It provided safety from faking and a cool was to their back. That safety was interrupted though, when Milo spilled beer all over them. “Hey! Asshole!” But they didn’t bother getting up. Just laying there, they flipped Milo off and rolled their eyes.  

“You’re annoying. I never should’ve saved your ass. Wouldn’t have to deal with this shit!” The music in the background went from Dead! to This is How I Disappear. While Metzli could always enjoy classical music, there was always a place for punk rock in their heart. Their cold, dead heart. The heart that could never give love or care. Nor could it receive it. At least not by being worthy of it.  

A shuddered breath could not be suppressed, and was made obvious by the visible air. Metzli frowned petulantly at their display of internal frustration. Now wasn’t the time for soul nonsense. Now was the time for, “Holy shit, more alcohol!” They said, pulled a flask from their shirt pocket. “Totally forgot I brought backup! Hey do you wa…” Words trailed off into oblivion as they spotted a dark figure hiding in the shadows.  

Listening to how Metzli slurred their words, Milo knew he wasn’t far behind them in terms of inebriation. Lucky for him his week long binge with Alex had managed to raise his tolerance, either that or his friend had been sneaking shots when he wasn’t looking. Either was possible, if he was being entirely honest. Still looking down at them he laughed when they raised their middle finger in response to the beer, it seemed the gesture was their most reliable way of communicating with each other. “You didn’t save me.” He countered. “You threw yourself at a slayer, I would have been fine if you didn’t decide to drag me into your mess.” Hearing the track in the background change, he wasn’t surprised to realise Metzli had an entire album saved to their phone. They looked like the My Chemical Romance type. He opened his mouth to say so but was interrupted by an uneven sigh. He knew without his new senses he wouldn’t have heard it, he knew he should probably pretend he hadn’t heard it. But the sound that managed to escape his friend was so genuinely forlorn, ignoring it didn’t feel like an option. “Hey-” He started, his voice soft, and comforting. But he couldn’t finish his sentence. As quickly as Metzli’s frown had appeared, it was gone, replaced by a mischievous grin, and a flask drawn from inside their shirt pocket.  

He reached out, ready to swipe it from their hands, but their gaze caught on something behind him. Assuming it was one of the ghosts, he turned to look too, but was only able to make out a vague shadow. Something ominous, lurking just beyond the line of the trees. The ghosts were gone, silent enough for him to hear a very human heartbeat if he focused. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he understood what was happening a moment too late. There was a sharp sound of something being released, followed by a rush of air. He didn’t have time to react, and the projectile shot past him, clipping his arm as he threw himself to the ground. He landed next to Metzli, eyes wide, glasses crooked where they had nearly fallen from the end of his nose. The pain in his arm wasn’t severe, but he was drunk, and he knew his pain tolerance was high because of that. Wincing, he forced himself to drop his can so that he could reach up and press a hand against the injury. The smell of beer began to fill the air as it bubbled, spilling out onto the grass beside him. Exhaling a breath, the cut wasn’t deep, and it definitely wasn’t lethal, but when he pulled his hand away his palm was black, and slick with blood. Scrambling to push his back up against the tombstone, his mind struggled to form a coherent plan. Even if Metzli wanted to take on whoever was hiding in the woods, they were in no fit state to try. “Shit-” He hissed. “Shit- what do we do?” 

Metzli jumped at the dull thud Milo’s body made when he made impact onto the dirt floor next to them. “What the—” Thick, black blood pooled through his fingers as he applied pressure to his newfound wound. Mouth agape, ready to say something more, a wheezing laugh spilled forward and they crawled to the tombstone for cover. When they poked their head out above it, an arrow whizzed past their head, barely missing them. “Ha-ha! You missed!” A drunk and taunting finger pointed at the hidden hunter, and another arrow shot out, directly to their face. 

Everything went black as Metzli closed their eyes and shot their hand up. By some miracle, a thing they didn’t even believe in, they had caught the arrow. More laughter ensued as they swiftly got back to the ground to show Milo. “Hey! Hey! Milo, look at this! I fucking caught it!” Pure, unfiltered shock littered their face as a smile curled onto their lips. They felt like a god, like they could do anything. And no slayer could possibly beat them, even in their inebriated state.

Milo stared at Metzli in disbelief as they began to laugh. But within seconds he was overcome by the urge himself. There were so many things to laugh at. He was a vampire, hanging out in a cemetery with another vampire. His life was beyond a joke at this point. Things had become so weird that for a second he had forgotten just how weird they really were. It was crazy to think he used to be human. For twenty two years this world had been make believe, something in tv shows, and bad YA novels. Now he was living it, apparently to a My Chemical Romance soundtrack. It crept up on him, building in his chest, then his throat, before finally escaping his mouth. A peal of laughter, genuine, and unfiltered, echoed across the empty grounds. Too distracted by his own situation to register his friend standing up, it was only as Metzli joined him again that he realised what he had missed. “You- what?” He only laughed harder at the revelation, feeling a little delirious. “You fucking liar, there’s no way-” Reaching to take the arrow out of their hands, he bent the wood, testing its strength because he could. It was pretty regular, as far as he could tell. There didn’t seem to be anything special about it. Tapping Metzli on the head with the point, he carelessly threw it to the ground. “Why us?” He asked, tears running down his cheeks as he attempted to reign himself in. “Do you think we’re cursed?”  

“Sir, I am a lot of things, but I am not a liar!” Metzli said through laughter and wheezing coughs. The situation at hand was crazy, too crazy for anyone to believe if they got the chance to tell anyone about it. “Why us? Because we’re having fun and hunters hate that we have fun!” Getting up, they took the arrow with them and began to trek onward to the hunter. Before they could make it even three steps though, an arrow shot right into their shoulder. An exclamation of pain reverberated from their chest as they fell back, rolling to their feet to stand up again.  

Anger pulsed through their drunken mind. Alcohol reinforced that anger, manifesting it into a loud growl from Metzli. “Is that all you got?! Fucking coward! Shooting from all the way over there!” They were being reckless, too motivated by their state of inebriation. An arrow still protruded from their shoulder, going all the way through.It took mere moments, but the situation went from humorous, to extremely dangerous without Metzli even noticing. Having a care about their well-being would’ve helped, but there was none to be found. It was as lost as their soul.  

“Oof!” Taunting the hunter worked. Metzli was tackled, extremely hard onto the ground, pushing the arrow back into them. Pain would’ve been made more prominent had it not been for the shelf’s worth of alcohol in their system. 

Raising his eyebrows, something about the statement struck Milo as odd. When he finally realised what it was he felt a little ridiculous. Not too ridiculous to be honest though. “Y’know… I don’t think anyone has ever called me ‘sir’ before.” He admitted, giggling at the unusual admission. Honestly, he had never earned the courtesy. Anybody who didn’t know his name and wanted to get his attention usually resorted to insults before titles. There was no need to be polite when you were throwing somebody out of a bar, or berating them for unashamedly doing drugs in the bathroom. “I like it.” Scrubbing his hand against the grass, attempting to wipe away some of his blood, he wrinkled his nose as dirt and beer got dirt caught under his fingernails. Why was nothing ever as easy as it looked in the movies? “I think a lot of people hate fun,” he pointed out, thinking of how his parents liked to try and control his substance abuse, of the way people looked down on him, or tried to tell him they were concerned because he enjoyed certain vices more than others. “But yeah, maybe hunters more than most…” Shifting as Metzli stood again, he was ready for them to tease the Hunter hiding in the woods. If they did so from where they were standing then it wouldn’t be difficult for them to drop back down to safety. But they stepped out from behind their barricade, making themself incredibly vulnerable. “Metzli- wait-” He hissed, but it was too late. He hurried to get to his knees, peering over the stone so that he could watch the chaos unfold.  

Metzli’s voice rang out, loud and clear. He wasn’t sure actively encouraging the person trying to kill them was a very good idea, but before he could tell them they seemed to stumble. In the blink of an eye an arrow was protruding from their shoulder and he stared, frozen in horror. “Stop!” He shouted, though he wasn’t sure whether he was talking to Metzli, or the hunter. He only knew this was no longer funny. As quickly as the humour had come, it had dissolved, melting away to be replaced by a familiar sense of fear. Jeez, it really was never ending. “No- wait- shit-” He shouted again, inching closer as Metzli was tackled to the ground. It went against all of his instincts to follow his friend’s footsteps, to make himself vulnerable, but he didn’t know what else he could do aside from watch them suffer. A few more seconds passed, and Metzli only succeeded in getting pushed against the ground with more force, so he steeled himself, forcing his mind to sober up before running at the hunter, tackling them in the same way they had tackled Metzli. He hit them full force, throwing them off of his friend, and rolled with them, unable to keep track of who was where, and whether he was in danger. He couldn’t see any obvious weapons, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any on the hunter’s person. 

The scuffle was a blur, made worse by the drunken state Metzli was in. Through it all, they laughed and wheezed. “Is that all you got? You’re the worst hunter I’ve ever—” They watched in awe as Milo fought against both his instincts and the hunter, who cried out in pain. He was obviously new, still untrained in various ways. Thus, the reason why the taunting worked. He needed to stop using long range attacks, and prove himself. This was his own undoing and Metzli pointed at him, and laughed. “Oh man, you really suck at this!” 

Reaching towards the struggle, they pulled the hunter off of Milo. After a swift click! Metzli was thrown back by yet another arrow in their stomach, dropping the hunter in the process. “Goddammit!” Pain was still dulled out, but they were frustrated nonetheless. “I’m literally two inches away. The least you can do is actually make me dust. Jesus!” They said, getting up and kicking the hunter in the head. He was now knocked out cold. Problem officially solved.  

“All right, you wanna get more drinks?” Still not minding the second arrow in them, they asked Milo, and continued walking in a drunken stupor.  

Milo felt the weight lift from his body, and sat up as best he could, just in time to watch the hunter shoot another arrow at Metzli. This one hit them in the stomach, but they still didn’t seem bothered by the pain, or the knowledge of what was happening. He opened his mouth, taking a breath ready to speak, but he couldn’t find his words. What was there to say? Nothing was going to stop this, nothing was going to change the mind of Metzli or the person still pointing a weapon at them. Wincing as his friend continued to insult the hunter, he couldn’t help but realise if they had been more adept then both of them would probably be dead by now. Dead dead. Really they should be thanking them for not being skilled enough to take out two incredibly inebriated vampires. Flinching as a sudden crack rang out, he saw Metzli kick the hunter, and the action played again inside his head, slow motion allowing him to see just how brutal the move had been. A gasp escaping him, he crawled over to where they were sprawled on the grass, unconscious, and no longer a threat.  

“What did you do?” He demanded, eyes wide as he took in the situation. Metzli standing, two arrows protruding from their torso, and the hunter now potentially concussed, vulnerable, and alone on their back. He still didn’t feel sober, but his mind was working to process information like he was. He gently pried open one of the hunter’s eyelids, checking their pupil for any sign of trauma. Then tilted his head towards them, taking note of their steady breathing, and the strong heartbeat within their chest. “More drinks?” He echoed, looking back up at Metzli. The offer was tempting. Anything to forget what had just happened, the casual horrors he now seemed destined to witness on a near daily basis. Was he ever going to get used to this? The violence of it all? “I-” Glancing back down at the unconscious form, he was confident they were about to wake up. Any longer than a few minutes could mean brain damage, but their vitals were steady, and their pupils were regular. Chances were, the shock more than anything had caused them to black out, which meant they didn’t have long to make their escape. “Fuck it.” He muttered, getting clumsily to his feet. “Let’s get out of here, I think they’re about to come to…” He admitted, moving away from the hunter towards the entrance of the cemetery. “And then we can deal with this,” he added, gesturing vaguely to the arrows embedded in his company. He still didn’t understand how Metzli could be so provocative, but he didn’t want to understand. Whatever they were dealing with was their issue. So long as he could keep them alive, he had done his part. “You’re going to need blood.”

Milo looked like a professional moving about the hunter’s body, checking on him. “You a doctor or something? Who cares about this idiot anyway? If he’s dead, he’s dead. Lucky he would be in a cemetery,” Metzli chuckled dryly, pulling the arrows out of their body with audible grunts of discomfort. Part of them wished the arrows had actually pierced their heart, but they weren’t so lucky. “He definitely wouldn’t think twice to check on us. As long as we’re dust, he’s happy. So fuck him.” The arrows clattered to the ground and they scowled at Milo for trying to baby them.  

“I know what my body needs,” they barked back, following Milo to the exit with a huff. Metzli was offended, more than they should have been, but alcohol had a way of doing that. On the way out, they picked up their phone which had been playing House of Wolves. They shut it off and pocketed the phone. “I’m going home. Maybe I’ll get a snack from my friend. I’m done.”  

Metzli walked past Milo in a fast walk, sulking and battered. Not looking at him, they said, “Let me know if you wanna hang out again I guess. Try not to be too sad without my presence, depresso.” Everything about their appearance was so messy and forlorn, only snapping out of it when the gate closed with a metallic clang! for the second time tonight. “Later, kid.” 

“My parents are doctors.” Milo admitted, remembering a time where he used to proudly announce he was going to be a doctor one day too. Just like mommy and daddy. How embarrassing. Holding his tongue before he could insist he cared about the person lying on the floor, he wasn’t sure how true that statement was. Hunter or otherwise, they had chosen to confront two vampires. Two vampires who weren’t hurting anybody, who just wanted a short break from the world. They didn’t deserve to die, he knew that much. But Metzli was right, he wouldn’t be offered the same courtesy in return. “We can’t just- just kill people,” he countered, almost disturbed by how casual his friend sounded. He wanted to believe they didn’t mean it, but of course they did. “If we do then we’re as bad as they all think we are…” Continuing in his journey towards the boundaries of the cemetery, he only stopped as he heard the arrows hit the ground. One soft clatter, followed by another. He wanted to tell Metzli they shouldn’t have taken them out, that was First Aid 101. But they couldn’t exactly wander through town with them, so he stayed quiet.  

A frown creasing his brow at the shift in tone, he wondered briefly whether other people felt this annoyed by his mood swings. “Clearly you don’t because the last time we met you were starving yourself.” He bit out, unable to help himself. “Fine, go drink your friend’s blood while you’re wasted, and hurt. Because that doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.” Running a hand through his hair, he straightened his glasses, pressing his fingertips against his injured arm. He could still feel the blood soaking through the material of his hoodie. “Are you actually leaving?” He demanded, watching as Metzli let the gate swing shut behind them. “Fine, whatever.” He called after them. “I don’t give a shit.” 

“Fuck off,” Metzli growled back, annoyed by the kid’s unnecessary sass. “We are as bad as people think we are. But you know what, so are humans. He was just going to kill us.” They mocked back, throwing the words he had just used against him. The hunter was going to kill them without a second thought, so they saw no need to think about his life. He probably didn’t choose this life, but he also didn’t need to take on more than he could chew. Idiot.  

“Yeah, I’m leaving. I don’t need you to give a shit.” Metzli flipped him off as they walked away, disappearing into the cold night.  

Milo stared at Metzli, watching them as they left the cemetery feeling far too many emotions at once. Fear, worry, exhaustion, relief… He knew they had a point, he just wasn’t ready to accept that. He couldn’t bring himself to accept that. It scared him knowing he was changing. He had grown used to the physical changes, the ways his new life needed to revolve around blood, around nightfall, around a constant feeling of thirst. But seeing so many vampires who were numb to violence felt different. Even in his own circuits, the ones where people got beaten up for the sake of a hit, or robbed at knifepoint because they owed a dealer money, he had never grown used to it, merely avoided it to the best of his ability. The blood still running down his arm was testament to the fact that he couldn’t avoid this violence. It was going to chase him wherever he went simply because some asshole decided to drain him of his blood. Flipping Metzli off in return as they disappeared from view, the gesture no longer felt affectionate, or carefree. Suddenly alone with the sound of quiet breathing, he knew he didn’t have much time. The hunter was due to regain consciousness, and he needed to be far, far away before that happened. Putting more pressure against his arm, he took a deep breath to steady himself, running over the list of friends he knew he could turn to for help. And then he set off, putting the cemetery, and the events of the evening behind him. 

[twstedoven]

The Bucketlist Azul x reader Chapter One.

Unedited

word count: 1,119

Author’s note: 

Before this chapter, there's a short prologue to be read. You don't have to read it as it's not important, but it is just there if anyone is curious. I don't know how to link it sadly. As always constructive criticism is always helpful :)

The hail of rain ricocheted against the worn glass skylight. Like bullets shattering the only defense line, the so-called Ramshackle dorm viciously waved its imaginary white flag to Mother natures fury. Mold coated the tattered barrier filling the blank canvas resembling a painting. Countless of fauna sheltered under a demolished room professing it as theirs. Even the undead roam in the domain, creating nothing but trouble for a specific feeble student. 

Fits of cough joined the melody of the coarse wind. Under several duvets lay a (hair-colored) young lady suffering the bitter cold as her teeth grind against each other, pleading for the weather to calm down quickly. She focused on the little lit wax of a candle, directing her thoughts on the events that occurred in the past five months. In her Grandmother's attic, the scattered dust-looking glass, a coffin, and the talking floating feline seemed all to hallucinate from her medication's effects. Unfortunately, this wasn't all true as her companion would bring her back to the actuality of Twisted Wonderland. Speaking about her companion, their he dozes on the end of the bed, oblivious to the somber mood emitting from the female.  

Letting out a sigh, she left her haven of safety, attempting to tire herself out.  Her socks' woolen sole proceed on the timber glossed floor, gliding as if it was her skating rink. Every night this was a repetition of the same actions. Insomnia played a role in hindering her sleeping habits. Humming a child lullaby, she stared down at the ground walking in a straight line as her arms formed a T. In the girl little world, she was on a high tightrope attempting not to fall on the hazardous base of dirt. As childish as it seemed, she enjoyed these threatening situations. It wasn't like she was a masochist but instead, she couldn't care about her health and safety, mostly when she haves six more months to live. The pills' resources began its decline when your thrust in a world with no knowledge of the illness; shes diagnosed. The disease suddenly became an essential condition to take seriously. 

"Thud"

The humming ceases as her eyes widen at the sudden fall. It seemed the ability of movement collapsed. Letting out a huff, she stared at her hopeless legs as they were unresponsive to her futile attempts to get back up. The (hair-colored) drained student was sick of life—no home to go back. No family to see her, especially her doting Grandmother. Gripping hard on the thin material, she finally cracked. The agony of a screamed escaped her mouth, shouting obscenity of phrases. Letting go of all her locked emotions. This was just her everyday nightly routine.

"Man, you look like someone punched both of your eyes."

The little feline spoke. He stared down at her exhausted build in concern. He furrowed his brows, "Did you not get any sleep last night again?". Her head rose from its position as they were both situated in the kitchen table. "Yes, Grim, thank you for your concern." "well, then don't act like some gloomy weirdo!! We have classes soon, and your actions are going to damper my mood." Grim hovered towards the fruit bowl, which consisted of a couple of slow decaying bananas. "Here, take this, it will boost your energy straight away, human." He smirked to himself, pleased at his effort in helping. Reluctantly (name) grabbed the edible berry, Peeling away the skin while munching on the snack. 

"C'mon, the more we stall, the more we'll miss Mister Crewel potion class." tugging on the adolescent uniform sleeve as if he was pleading like a child for attention. Every day, Grim would beseech to hurry her actions. She nodded her head while throwing the skin of the fruit in the wastebasket. Adjusting her uniform one more time, she closed the ruptured door, following Grim towards the prestigious academy. 

Last night outburst of her cries luckily heard from her roommates of ghosts. They couldn't do much except comfort (name). It was the dawn of sunrise where a miracle of her legs functioned again. Stagnant towards her bed, she collapsed and gained thirty minutes of sleep until Grim jerk her forcing her to get up.  "Good Morning (name) and Grim," the male's polite voice greeted the pair. Arrange behind them stood an attractive blue-haired student labeled Deuce. The first-year associated with the nonmagic user and a wannabe magician as well as close friends. She smiled softly at him while Grim excitedly addresses the first year about anything. 

(Name) was silent throughout the entire walk, only joining in the conversation if directed towards her.  Missing from the iconic quadruple unit was trouble maker Ace. From Deuce perspective, he has gotten in issue with dorm leader Riddle Roseheart leading him cleaning toilets. 

The chatter died down as the trio halted at a scene unravel in front of them. Another pair of mischievous students cornered a helpless freshman. One of them was holding a parchment taunting his fellow peer. It was clear that the incapable student was struggling to keep his tears rolling down his face. 

Mutters of the people looked at the boy, remorseful of his actions. The Leech brothers were not twins to be played with, especially under the control of the manipulative sea witch Azul Ashengrotto. Lacking the uniform tie, Floyd leans more towards him, grinning at his misery. "ah~ little shrimpy, you already knew the outcome with this contract, but you still signed it," his hand trapped him against the stone cobble structure.  His brother stood their just smiling. They were cold and ruthless as the mood around them was thick air.

Enough of watching the unfortunate victim and the sadist pair, Deuce grabbed the frail female hand, dragging her away from the depressing scene. "Oi, don't leave me behind!!" Grim shouted, following both them hastily. "I swear in the rest of my days in Twisted Wonderland I'll never make a deal with them." Deuce declared, holding her hand still. After a reasonable distance away from the Leech twins, he looked at his friends. "Promise me you'll never make a deal with them?" Grim let out a prideful huff. "of course, I won't, knowing their nothing but cruel fishes, I won't fall for the small tricks." (name) didn't answer back, eyes still observing the recent segment. As much as she knows Octavinelle devious nature, she couldn't help but curious about making a deal. 

"(Name)?"

The freshman and the feline watched her waiting for her reply. 

"sure" 

Soon after, they were back with their average banter of discussion. Unknowing to them, a pair of dark navy blue eyes followed (Name) marking her the next victim to his miserable contract. 

[imaginesforallkindoflove]

Not me writing this in one hour and it is past one am now.

Anyway enjoy a mythical fix it fic with Arthur Morgan and my self insert. It is only platonic feelings yall, and Arthur lives :) sorry for any mistakes i wrote this without glasses on my phone and very late at night. Maybe I should sleep??

Arthur didn't know how he escaped death.

He was doomed. He had known since he started to cough, and the doctor he saw in Saint Denis confirmed that. He was sure he was done for. When Micah left him to die on that mountain, when he started to make his way with intense difficultly toward the edge, feeling the warm sun welcoming him, as if God or any higher being was there with open arms, forgetting him. He remembered how he closed his eyes, clutching at his hat and snatchel. He had forgotten to give someone something to remember him by. But... somehow he was happy with that: he will be faded into history. No one will remember him. Maybe that photographer, Albert Mason... or that widow, Miss Balfour... Or that strange and French painter...

French... Like the little maid they picked up from the burning Braithwaite mansion. Hosea took her out with him, arguing with Dutch and some others -mainly John who told him she deserved to die for being with the people who kidnapped his son- as she was just some girl servant trying to survive. The old man cared for that little maid, he really seemed to be fond of her. She was so shy and quiet, so frightened by that new life and by them. Sometimes he watched her, making sure no one was bullying the poor girl. She made fiends with Kieran and Sean... Molly even liked the girl more, doing her hair and being like... a mother figure of some sorts. All her friends were dead when he thought about it.

Arthur entered her life pretty late, but he defended her from Micah, that rat. The way the man was staring at her was disgusting and he knew he had to step in. After that event, she stayed with him when he was around the camp. Calling him words in her language he didn't understand... She was a breath of something new, of love, of... renaissance and redemption, a gift perhaps for him. Arthur had lost his son a long time ago but he found in that girl a little figure of a daughter. He took her fishing and hunting and riding... He took her to Saint Denis and bought her a fancy dress for the hell of it. He taught her how to ride a horse. He had taught her a lot of things...

He hoped she had made it out.

She never had commit a crime. If Milton or one of his agents laid a hand on her, he swore to whatever was hearing him that he would haunt them.

She didn't deserve to die, unlike him.

However, to his surprise, he opened his eyes and breathed deeply.

His lungs...they felt free of anything blocking them. They didn't feel like a burning fire ravaging a forest. He could breathe normally, without coughing himself to blood. He was still very thin and pale but... he was alive. A voice was speaking a few meters away from him. He knew that strange voice full of slangs he didn't know of... Who was it?

He eventually found the strength to stand up, walking with wobbly legs toward the voice. The person seemed to tell jokes or funny stories, because a second voice laughed and chuckled. Oh god, he knew that voice too. He reached a door and opened it, stumbling on the ground.

"Arthur!"

It was her. She was alive. She was alive. That little maid had run off to him and hugged the poor man hard, he moaned in pain and she released him with a pained look on her face. His hands travelled to her face and he caressed her cheeks lovingly, just like a father would do.

Her brown hair was neatly tied up like Molly had taught her, she was wearing the dress he had bought that day in Saint Denis and she... she looked so joyful and so relieved to watch him breathe.

"Na... Naomie..." He finally said, a smile creeping on his face.

"I thought you would die!" She exclaimed, tears streaming down her face quietly.

"I am not... I don't know... What happened?"

"Well... it was the least I could do to thank you mister Morgan."

Behind her was again a strange and unknown man he had helped a few months ago. He didn’t remember his name clearly, but the man had tasked him to find rock carvings and the ending was like a dark fairytale. He didn’t question it, because he felt like an idiot. The man with the birthmark smiled warmly at him.

"Glad that young and elegant miss found me on time. Actually... I had a bad feeling about you mister. I decided to... visit when I encountered poor little Naomie crying and riding while clutching your body for dear life. Luckily for you, I had medicine to treat your illness and we cared for you while you were delirious." He explained proudly.

"He is fantastic!" The girl exclaimed.

"Yeah yeah... I am sorry but I forgot your name-"

"Francis Sinclair."

"Right. Thank you mister Sinclair..."

"I will leave you two to your found happiness. Don't forget to leave in a week or two or else the law will catch you both and I am afraid I won’t be here to save you this time if it happened." Francis Sinclair stated before bowing and taking his leave. "Mister Morgan, this is a thank you for helping me." He declared before disappearing again.

Arthur sat down to write in his journal, then would sleep for hours and ate a lot over the days. He felt much better but the words of Sinclair was still fresh in his head: they had to leave soon. He looked in his snatchel and found all of his money. A few dollars were missing tho but he didn't care.

Naomie entered the little home they shared and unlike any other day, Arthur decided to ask her about what happened after he left the camp for the last robbery with the gang. The young woman sighed deeply, seeming embarrassed.

"I would rather not speak about it."

"I want you to tell me what happened. I need to know. I have the right to. I was dying then I came back to life. Naomie, please." He begged.

"Dutch had two keys for the money box. I... stole his, that one poor miss Grimshaw was keeping. I took the box and hide it somewhere. Then, Pinkertons came and they took Abigail. Tilly and Jack escaped and Miss Grimshaw was nowhere in sight." She started. "So... I felt like it was time for me to leave. I took the box and ran as fast as I could. I came across a barn and I remembered that you had a horse stored there... I lied that you were my father and the man believed me."

"You took Alexander out? That big horse?" Arthur asked, impressed.

"Yes." She nodded. "I found mister Sinclair next. He led me here and I hide the money again. Then he suggested I go looking for you and I did! Something... Animals were on the road, waiting for me. I think it was a coyote and a stag... they led me to you. You were still breathing and no soldier was present so I took your body and ride as fast as Alexander could." She stopped to take a breathe. "Then, I brought you back here. Mister Sinclair gave you some medicine and you felt much better immediately!"

"You saved me." The man breathed out. "You saved me."

"I would have been so lost without you... you are like... like a father to me." She looked at him. "And I have lost so much people in my life. I couldn't afford to lose someone else."

"You... You did good. So good. Come here." He took her in his arms and she looked so small compared to him. Then he released her and started to become serious. "Francis Sinclair is right. We should pack it up, and go somewhere else. Somewhere where no one will find us. And not an island. I was thinking... California?" He suggested, suddenly reminding of the doctor's words. "With this money, we will be able to have a good life. I will find a job... maybe as a deputy or some shit and you... you will have a good education. I will make sure of it."

"Really?" She sounded so excited.

"Or maybe Canada? Maybe we will find Charles and the natives... I hope so." He mumbled.

As he started packing Alexander outside, Arthur saw something strange. He stopped what he was doing. It felt so... dream like.

A stag and a coyote were present, watching intensely. The coyote was siting, its black fur not matching with the golden ray of the sun but its piercing eyes were staring inside the former gunslinger's soul deeply. Meanwhile, the stag was magnificent, dominating the forest with its giant antlers and stood tall, looking at the man too, and he seemed to approve his new life.

Slowly, Arthur tipped his hat off to them, and he didn’t have any peculiar reasons to do that. But... he wanted to thank them. For some reasons.

Arthur Morgan was redeemed. He had acquired his redemption and was reborn through his ashes.

*Many years later...*

They didn't feel like they aged a lot. But here they were, settled in California for many years. It was the end of the first wold war, and Arthur Morgan didn't participate in it, as he didn't fill any of the requirements for the US army. He was glad he didn't go to war, or else Naomie would have been left alone and he would have hated that.

However, he cared for the young and old soldiers. Some came back disfigured, scared by endless fights and traumatic experiences. He tried everything he could to help them, and even invited other rich people to do the same. He worked in the police now, and was a respectable deputy chief. Soemtimes, he laughed at his condition. When they arrived, he still was doing some bounty hunts then a deputy offered him to take a place and here he was.

He entered the home he shared with his now legally adopted daughter, with a smile on his face. He hung his coat himself, as maids and other servants were hurrying to prepare dinner and doing all kind of chores. He paid them well and was kind to them. Hosea would have done the same, he thought.

Some years after they settled in, Arthur Morgan was able to contact most of the people he helped, even Mickey the fake war veteran who died three years ago. He helped him, finding him a simple job and home. Charlotte was well too, a little old by now but she had nephews and nieces as well as grand nephews and grand nieces to take care of. Albert Mason reached to him first, inviting him to his new exposition whereas Charles Châtenay came back one day, knocking on Arthur's door.

He didn’t had contact with any of the old gang members, except maybe Mary Beth. He would buy her books and read them avidly, feeling proud on how far she had come. One time, he even had tears when she wrote a serie about them. The characters looked and thought as them, and he felt proud again. He grinned when he thought about that brave captain Monroe who would sometimes visit them. He had found a wife and had children on his own. Also, they would often tour in those states to visit the graves of their fallen members as well as the native son of that chief. Arthur felt the need to see them every two years. He didn’t want to forget about them and would write any new memory in his diaries.

They didn't age, he quickly noted. They both stayed in the state Francis Sinclair found them. Perhaps that mad man gave them something, but he was glad it was not toxic or anything.

Naomie was a good student, scoring high in female universities but couldn't access to more as she looked too young for anything and was a woman. That was the only downside, he believed. She was mad of course, but with time, she seemed to be more interested in so many things and began to write numerous essays and books under a male name.

They were comfortable. They were safe. No one was asking about their shady past. He hoped John and his family were still alive as well as Karen, Tilly and Charles. He missed Charles a lot. However... He hoped Dutch was feeling miserable, as miserable as himself was when he thought he was dying that evening.

One day, a man working for him came finding Arthur in his office, saying a young black haired man was searching for him.

"What is his name again?" Despite being high in society, Arthur stayed the same.

"He said: "Lancelot Milton". A rubbish name if you ask me sir. Do you want me to do anything about it?"

"I swear if this is another man asking for my daughter's hand, I will put a bullet through his skull." The man spoke as he went to see who send for him.

He opened the door and saw a man tending to a beautiful horse. He was wearing a familiar hat, Arthur thought, and from the back, the strange man reminded him of someone he knew but the memories were blurry. He cleared his throat and the stranger turned. Then the older man knew and it took his breath away. The eyes, the face, the hair...

"Hello, my name is Jack Marston. I believe you knew my father?"

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

James Tobias Moore: An Introduction

Name: James Tobias Moore

Age: 29

DOB: February 25th 1867

Height: 6ft 4

Body type: Broad, large, strong, he got a soft tummy tho cause he’s weak for sweet baked goods

Hair: Long enough to tie up at the back in a bun, messy, ginger

Appearance: Covered in freckles and scars. So many scars. He’s had a tough life and nearly died more times than is probably reasonable for his age. 

Career/Lifestyle: Lives in a cabin in the woods and is self-sufficient. Hunts, fishes, forages, and grows his own vegetables when the weather is right. Earns money from hunting and fishing, but also does odd jobs around, helps people with things they need. 

Personality: Comes across quite gruff, brash, straight to the point. Not much of a conversationalist and never going to spout poetic at you, but he’s soft with those he cares about and loves. Will show you how much he loves you by providing for you, bringing you blankets, making you dinner, carrying you to bed when you fall asleep in front of the fire. Amazing with children and animals. 

Pets: Brandy, a large bay shire horse, more of a companion than a pet though. She’s been in his life a good while now. 

Series: And Bluebells Gleamed on Mountain Wild

While ‘requests’ are technically closed i’m happy to have them for my OCs. I’d like to start writing for these guys and i’m also happy to have questions and be asked for ‘headcanons’ about them although technically they’re canon facts if they’re my characters right? I don’t know, Just i’m happy to engage with you guys and talk about these soft boys because I want to write reader inserts but want that control of knowing the character and having them be my character. Also rugged mountain man in the 19th century? What a vibe. 

Reader for this is described as female because time periods, not sure if i’ll being doing gender neutral stuff for these guys or not. But if it’s not i’ll always sign post it so you don’t have to worry!

The year is 1896, the weather is turning colder. Autumn melting into winter, the first snow falls will begin soon, he thinks. James Tobias Moore has a lot to do, a lot to prepare before the cold season truly hits and the flurries come in. Living in the woods away from town, he spends most of the year living off the few plants he grows beside his cabin, the herbs, mushrooms, and roots he forages, the animals he hunts and the fish he catches in the nearby lake.

When the snow comes he won’t be able to hunt often and fishing will be more difficult and not worth the effort of sitting in the cold for hours. So he pulls his thick coat on, covers his worn hands with gloves and sets off with his worn satchel. Locking the door behind him, he takes a moment to turn dark brown eyes to the sky. It’s growing greyer every day, a sure sign that a snow storm would hit before long. He needs to make the trip to town now before he misses his chance, he wouldn’t be in dire straits without the supplies, but it would be a trickier winter for certain.

He whistles, loud and clear. Brandy comes plodding from around the corner, the large bay shire horse bobbing her head up and down in greeting. He smiles softly, quietly, gently pats her neck searching in his coat pocket for an oat cake he knows he left there last time he took her out. She’s impatient, large head pushing at his pocket, nibbling at the coat until he finally finds the treat and proffers it to her, she accepts it quickly, nickering quietly at him.

“C’mon then, girl, we have work to do.” His voice is quiet, a southern twang to it that hasn’t left even after moving further north. The shire follows along behind him, following him to the cart he uses on occasion to get goods from town or sell the spoils of a successful hunting trip. He’s careful as he hitches Brandy to the cart, making sure everything sits right, nothing too tight, nothing incorrectly harnessed. She’s his one companion out here and he’s careful to look after her.

The horse nibbles at ginger strands of his hair as he adjusts part of the harness and he huffs at her, giving her an admonishing look that she no doubt doesn’t understand. He gives her one last pat on the nose before getting into the cart and taking the reins, beginning the journey into town.

It’s a long journey, but in the winter months a necessary one. He’ll stock up for the winter, tinned foods, matches, extra blankets, hay. Things he doesn’t already have and can’t source himself. He has enough salted and dried meat, he’s been preserving hunts since the weather started to turn colder and it’s just the last bits he needs. There’s you too. It’s his last chance to see you before the snow hits, he won’t be able to see you till spring. Not that he’d ever admit that he goes to town to see your soft smile. He was just a gruff mountain man after all. He wasn’t good with his words. 

He hadn’t always been a hunter, fisherman and outdoorsman. There was a time he worked in the sunnier parts of the country on a horse ranch, a time he worked shifting goods in a factory and a time he worked as a bounty hunter. The odd jobs are behind him now and he likes the life he’s built for himself, quiet and secluded, he fends for himself and enjoys the noise that comes from nature. It’s a different sort of life than living in a crowded, smoggy city, or a populated town. He’s never been much of a conversationalist, never was very good with words, and the isolation suits him fine. Even if there’s one person he’d happily share his cabin with. 

At 29 years old James is happy with the cabin he’s built, the life he currently has. He helps the odd stranger here and there, usually from their own incompetence, is known in the nearest towns as a man you can rely on and keeps mostly to himself. It suits him just fine. 

“Easy, girl” He soothes Brandy as she tosses her head at a stick on the ground no doubt believing it to be one of her least favourite creatures, a snake. She calms quickly, trusting that her owner would let her know if danger was near.

The cold late autumn sun is dappled through the trees as they ride along the dirt track road. The light hits across his suntanned skin, constellations of freckles stand out next to old scars. He yawns low, bringing a gloved hand to run tiredly through his beard. It’s beginning to get too long for even his liking and while no one will see him once winter hits, the voice in his head that sounds too much like his late mother reminds him that he should look after himself and make himself presentable. Especially if he wants you to take notice. 

The ride is quiet, an hour of birds chirping in the trees and mammals moving through the underbrush. He passes a few riders on the road, nods his head and says a quiet good morning. It’s a good ride, for once he doesn’t find himself reaching for his gun to fend off a particularly wild pack of wolves or a thief intent on stealing his horse. He’s in a pleasant mood when he rides into town. Made even more pleasant by the sight of you taking a quick breath of fresh air outside the small schoolhouse you work at as the small town's teacher. 

He slows Brandy and nods his head at you, “Morning, Miss Y/N.” The bright smile you turn on him is part of the reason you’re one of the few people in town he stops to talk to. He’s not one for chatter, but you warm him up like a blazing fire whenever you turn your gaze on him. You make him want to talk, even if it’s just to please you. 

“Good morning, Mister Moore. Coming to get your winter supplies?” After 2 years of knowing each other, you know his late autumn routine as if it were your own. He is a man of routine and structure, predictable in many ways. 

He nods an affirmative and you smile, he’s never been a chatty one, but the soft brown of his eyes and the pleasant gentleness of his features whenever he interacts with you makes each short conversation a pleasure. You have always been happy to talk for the two of you, even if you secretly wish for him to open up a little more, to crack open that hard outer shell and learn more about him. 

“Well, I shan't keep you...Will you stop into the school on your way out? The children love to hear your stories.” There were two exceptions to the quiet nature that James Moore had, one was with animals especially horses. You had seen him chatter on to Brandy enough to know he was comfortable chatting with animals. Another was with children, whenever he stopped by the schoolhouse he always had a story to tell. Half were true, some exaggerated and the rest no doubt fiction. But the children loved to hear how he’d wrestled a grizzly or caught a salmon with his bare hands. He was good with them too, a gentle giant. His 6ft 4, broad frame could often be found with children hanging off it by the end of the school day, being used as a climbing frame or tree. He was gentle with them, playful, more so than you ever saw him. It was a side you and the children only saw. 

“Well…” He looks to the sky, it’s darkening and he knows he can’t. He wishes he could, but he has to get back before it snows and it seems more and more likely that that will be later today rather than tomorrow. “I can’t, Miss...I’d love too but...the snow looks like it’ll come soon and I have to make sure I get back, ‘m sorry.”

“Of course...have a lovely day…” He’s already half way down the road, nearing the general store by the time you whisper his name, “James…” You watch with longing as he hitches the horse by the store and makes his way inside. 

[bastillewolf]

Midnight In Sheffield (IV)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician whilst on her sleepless escapade in the AM.

Notes: So, since I’m posting this one quite late on a Sunday night, maybe we’ll call the schedule day Midnight In Sheffield Mondays? I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

@alexbandguy86​​​​​​ @bettyschwallocksyee​​​​​​ @fookingsummertime​​​​​​ @juicebox-baby​​​​@darksydork7​​​​​ @edgythought​​​​ @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo​ 

Chapter IV - I Want It All

Isn’t this nice?” Mark asked. “I can’t remember the last time we went out for lunch with just the two of us.”

She nodded, feeling a bit calmer since she’d woken up after getting a decent night’s rest, even if it was a bit shorter. She’d gotten back not a minute late last night, for Mark had arrived when she was about to cover herself under the bedsheets, asking what she was still doing up. It ended with her in tears, mostly because of the pure confusion the day had brought her, but also because she’d felt like she needed it.

It was apparent that Mark was feeling a bit concerned, and was doing his best attempt to cheer her up a bit.

“I had an idea, please hear me out for a bit,” he started.

She pulled up her nose, because whenever he said those words, they were usually followed by some notion she wouldn’t like.

“What if we got married at the church back home?”

She paused. Not what she had expected, but certainly not something she favoured. “I thought we were going to get married in France?”

“I know, but… James and Rachel just told me they wouldn’t be able to make it around the time we’d planned to have it. If we just got married at home, I’m sure that would work out better for a lot of people on the guest list.”

“Mark, we’ve discussed this, and the invitations are already printed. If James and Rachel don’t think our wedding is important enough to make time for it, then I suppose they’re not coming.”

“Sweetheart, you know how much they’d want to come. It’s just…”

“What? Spit it out, will you?”

“I’m afraid my parents might get the wrong idea with us getting married in France.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, they think it’s a bit dramatic, for starters. And they know how much you enjoy it there; their guess is that you might want to stay there forever after all is said and done.”

She gave him a look. “So, your parents are afraid I’m going to chain you to a tree in a French vineyard so they can’t ever see you again? Do they think I’m drugging you into agreeing to everything I do?”

He huffed in amusement. “No, sweetheart. But they… they just want to make sure this marriage is going to work. And the first step in their eyes would be to hold a wedding at home. Think of it as nothing more than insurance that you’ll have a pleasant day with your family-in-law.”

“And I wouldn’t have that in France?”

“You’ll most likely be met with the sour faces of both my mother and my sister. And you haven’t even encountered my aunt’s death glare yet. That one’s a real deal-breaker.”

She sighed, fumbling with her hands in her lap. Her engagement ring was starting to feel incredibly heavy, as if the diamond had multiplied its amount of carats.

 She had tea with her mum later that day. Her dad was off to work.

“I… Uh, I don’t think we’ll be holding the wedding in France after all.”

Her mother lifted her chin to meet her eyes, gently setting her teacup back on its saucer. “And why is that?”

“Well, you know. I think it would be a lot easier for people to get to the venue because of work and all that. They wouldn’t have to go through all the traveling business, and it would save me and Mark quite a bit of money.”

Her mother hummed in response, but the look she gave her was critical. “I don’t think I remember ever hearing you talk about other people’s expense when you were little and showed me your wedding plans in your binder. That girl would tell everyone to sod off if they couldn’t make time for her special day, let alone think about saving money.”

She didn’t know how to respond.

“Darling, I love you. I would travel the world and back if it meant seeing you walk down the aisle. Please don’t let anyone ruin the dreams you have. I raised you better than that.”

 It was nearing midnight, and Alex had lit himself a cigarette in front of the old church. It was going to be a quiet one, due to the fact that Monday was the only day of the week the pub was closed. That didn’t mean the lads wouldn’t go out, but the singer just didn’t feel like it for some reason.

A few ladies dressed in shimmery dresses with feathers in their hair walked past him and sent a wink his way, but he barely paid them any mind. His mind was elsewhere, and the empty alleyway he walked through next was illuminated only by the stars and the moon, which shone like fireballs in the dark blue abyss.

He wandered back into a main street, but it was quiet there, too.

Until he heard the muffled noises coming from a figure hunched against one of the streetlights.

It was a girl, obviously, and she was crying. But it didn’t turn out to be just any girl.

His Arabella.

“Are you all right, love?” he asked. He’d crouched down next to her, attempting to move the hair soaked by her tears away from her face. He noticed she was shivering, and shrugged his jacket off, draping it over her shoulders. “I’m afraid the pawnshops are all closed by now. You’re going to have to find another way to get your money’s worth out of that engagement ring if you want to rid of it tonight.”

She sniffled a laugh, which he was pleased to receive from her. “I really don’t mean to show up crying every night. This is so embarrassing.”

Alex recalled Miles telling about the night you’d met. “Not embarrassing at all. Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head.

“Alright. Then let’s get you somewhere warmer. Also, I’m famished. Are you hungry?”

 “Alphonse, how are you this evening?”

The bell had chimed as they’d walked into the small restaurant, and though the lights were dimmed, she could make out the quaint interior quite well. Round tables, probably meant for no more than two, with a small red tablecloth draped over a larger white one on each of them. They were adorned with clean sets of dinnerware, as well as a simple candle as a centrepiece.

There were grapevines hanging across the wooden beams across the ceiling, and the walls had various paintings of landscape upon them.

In the back of the room, sat the head chef, - she supposed, as he wore the biggest hat of them all – playing a game of cards with his employees.

“Not any worse than any other evening, mister Turner. How are you?” The chef called Alphonse replied heartily. She noted a hint of a French accent in his speech.

“Quite alright, as I’m surrounded by good company.”

“I see, and who might your lady friend be?”

She introduced herself politely, to which all of the cooks took their hats off.

“A friend of mister Turner’s is a friend of ours, Cherie.”

“I told you to call me Alex a long time ago,” came his protest. “Say, you wouldn’t have anything left sitting in the kitchen, would you?”

Alphonse chuckled as he stood, tucking his deck of cards in his shirt’s pocket after giving his fellow players a suspicious look. “I’ll see what we have left after your band of misfits came to raid the place.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t be complaining, if I were you. They’re your best customers, after all,” Alex called after him.

The chef grumbled something about empty pantries as he returned with a basket in hand. “And I advise you to take the lady out to dinner here at a more appropriate time instead of sneaking of into the night with a basket full of goodies.”

“Now, you know I never come here that early.”

 It turns out he’d packed them an entire cheese platter, with bread, butter, and a nice bottle of wine to make the basket complete. The singer had been gallant enough to carry it and pour her a glass of wine as they walked, to a location he would not yet disclose.

“It seems like you’re known around these parts as a night owl,” she deducted.

He looked at her for a moment, and hummed as an invitation for her to continue.

“Is that just the way you go about? Or does it have a deeper meaning behind it all?”

“Doesn’t people’s behaviour always have a deeper meaning behind it?”

“I suppose so. Something you’re not willing to talk about, then?”

“Perhaps when you decide to tell me why I found you crying on the curb,” he replied curiously.

She smirked, “Well, I’m not sure what you were doing parading the streets, but you were walking, and then you found me. Coincidence, I suppose.”

He shot her a look. “You know what I mean.”

She sighed, but as she was figuring out the right words to say, it appeared that they had already reached their ‘secret location’.

 It was a small square, tucked into the corner of town, with a big round fountain in the middle. Sculpted fish were spraying water onto the levels below, and the stream was a soothing noise against the silent street. The buildings surrounding it had their shutters closed, and the way they towered over the small space made it seem like they had walked into a private garden.

But the odd thing was, is that she recognized that fountain, very clearly.

“I…”

“Yes?” Alex asked.

“I… I thought they’d tore down that fountain when I was younger. The whole street, in fact.”

The man next to her seemed to tense. “Well, it seems not.”

“…It seems not.” She had kind of wanted to question him further on the matter, but as the pieces were slowly connecting in her head, she decided to wait until the conclusion she was drawing was entirely certain.

Alex set down the basket, and sat on the stone bench facing the sculpture. “So, how’s the wedding planning going?”

Just the thought of it made tears well up in her eyes again, which he quickly took notice of.

“All right, you could’ve just told me to fuck right off when I opened my mouth.”

She snorted, taking a seat next to him and reaching for a piece of bread. “I’m sorry. I just- That’s the exact thing that has gotten me riled up today.”

“How come?”

The genuine interest was refreshing to her, and it made her feel brave enough to continue. “Well, Mark just thought it would be best to change the venue’s location, since a lot of people would be coming and all that. I kind of ended up agreeing with him, taking into consideration that everyone needed to fly out to France for a singular day. But now my mum is disappointed that I’m not going through with my big wedding plans, and I’ve honestly been doubting every decision I’ve been making since the get-go.”

He nodded with his lips pursed in thought. “I think cheese solves a lot of problems.” He handed her a piece of Gouda. “But if I may ask, what do you want?”

She gave him a confused look.

“I’ve only heard you mention what your fiancée wants, and what your mother wants, and that you don’t want to disappoint either of them. But I haven’t heard you talk about your dream wedding yet. It’s like you care about everyone’s opinions except for your own. And it seems like Mark doesn’t care much for it, either.”

She opened her mouth in protest, “Of course Mark cares! He’s only thinking about practicality, and our future.”

Alex took a languid sip of his glass before replying. “Love, if you want to marry someone, practicality shouldn’t matter if it means you get to hold the wedding your sweetheart has always dreamed about.”

“I don’t need your judgement on my love life.”

“No, but you asked for it anyway. I can’t tell you what to do; it’s your life. All I’m going to say is, make it count. You’re not getting a second shot at it. If you want to go through the rigmarole of a big wedding with a guest list that never ends and a dress that blinds people with the amount of diamonds on it, then you should do it. Not because I told you so, but because you want to do it.”

She knew he was right, but was afraid to admit it. “I… I don’t want a big wedding.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want it to be private. Just family and friends. In a vineyard somewhere in France.”

He threw his hands up. “Then there you have it.”

“It’s not that easy, Alex. This isn’t all about me. Relationships call for compromise, not selfishness.”

He suddenly took her hand, and pulled her along the square until they’d reached the fountain. He took a coin out of his pocket, and held it out to her.

“What?”

He thrust his palm into her direction once more, but seemed quite reluctant to do so. “Take it, make a wish, and throw it into the fountain.”

“Alex-“

“Might as well give it a go. What do you have to lose?”

She sighed. Though reluctantly, she did as told, and closed her eyes. The slight ‘plop’ of the penny falling into the water was barely heard over the stream.

“You can thank me later,” Alex said.

But as he turned his back to her, she was feeling impulsive, and grabbed his shoulders and thrust him backwards.

This time, the splash was heard.

She clasped her hands in front of her mouth to keep herself from laughing at the drenched figure of Alex Turner, sitting awkwardly in a fountain. Oh, and how he looked absolutely pissed. Pissed was an understatement. He looked furious.

“You’re going to regret that.”

“Oh, am I-“

She shrieked, as two cold hands pulled her into the water with him.