#holds up my little ocs like puppets and makes them kiss

[fellpyrean]

Advent Statement 8 - Flirting with Death

And now we get to full off the rails mode HA. This one is the one that had the most reshuffles, rewrites, full reworks of them all, and I ended up losing my full week of buffer time trying to wrangle this one into a semblance of A Shape. 

So it ended up extremely indulgent OC nonsense, as you do when you’re a week before Xmas with four more statements to write and the energy of a particularly exhausted pinecone. 

This one I think has the most warnings out of any of them, so please take note. 

CWs: Canon Typical Violence, Canon Typical the Stranger Content, suicide (more than one), skinning, main character death, flagrant disregard for the End

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They were skinning me, you know. Rather gruesome, isn't it? Oh no no, I'm not upset about it, just, it really is something to see yourself peeled. I think they're more upset about me than I am, to be honest! They tried so hard to get me, even made this body and stuffed it all nice, but who could have expected that my years of flirting with death would end like this? 

Oh you're curious. Archivists are so cute. All those questions on your tongue, I can almost taste them myself. Probably could if you gave me a kiss. I'm very good. To die for. 

Haha, oh, I'm not sorry. You're kind of cute, you know? No no, I’ll behave, don’t fret. 

Hm hm, how do we begin? The beginning would be a good point, yes? 

I met my first Death when I was a teen. 

Those years are a little hazy, what with all the depression and doom and gloom of, you know, being gay in a very Catholic family and looking forward to my eternal damnation, so it wasn't really that surprising to anyone who paid any attention when I tried to End myself. I took my first time very seriously; I was alone and I had looked up the best ways to do it, but I wasn’t fond of blood, so I went for an overdose. Really can’t recommend, I mean, who could have guessed that dying feels so miserable? I took a little comfort in the fact that at least my corpse would be pretty as I imagined laying there in the big old cathedral, desecrating it with my presence one last time, and then I saw Death. 

Skeletal, dressed in, hm… Well I can’t recall it, so it must have been appropriately bland and thematic. They’ve all got terrible fashion, you know. I remember staring at them with a vague sort of interest; mostly I just hoped that Hell would be nicer than the description, since this kind of confirmed that some of the bullshit was real? I realized they were speaking, but I couldn’t quite hear them as I laid there, as the seconds stretched into an eternity as I died. They must have run out of patience and decided to off me, but when their bony hands reached for me they just passed through me - annnd then I blinked and I was in the hospital. And I was very alive, though I absolutely felt like chewed up garbage. 

Maybe I should have gotten existential over seeing Death come for me, but, hahah. I figured since I’d not literally been smote walking into church, even when I did visit after my attempted suicide, I kind of wrote it and the whole Death thing up as a hallucination and forgot about it. I’d joke about it in truth or dare, that kind of thing, but mostly my friends just called me a bullshitter. 

I didn’t have to deal with any of this again until I got a job at a funny, funny little place. I’d thoroughly disgraced myself by that point, or my family depending on who you asked and how much you care about boys kissing boys, so I’d ended up disowned/traveling and, aha, who could have expected such a fancy institution would be willing to take in someone like me? Oh I know why he hired me now, but at the time I was just thrilled to have an actual Income and thought taking care of ‘artifacts’ would be intimidating but relaxing. I imagined a lot of moisture controlled air and gloves and dusting, and, well, I suppose two of those were right.  

Nobody had bothered to tell me about the book-that-kills-you until I’d found it outside its shelf. It wasn't in the orientation, which was really an oversight. It’s not like it was labeled ‘book-that-kills-you, do not touch!’ So I picked it up, and it killed me. Nice and straightforward like.

And there I was, laying on the floor as my heart did something Upsetting, and there came Death again! It was a different one this time and I remember it; this skeleton wore sweatpants, and it immediately reached for me. Terrible at their job. Impatient when they’ve really got all the time in the world. Their loss. I’d kind of wanted to chat this time, but I figured anyone who wore sweatpants to their big important Death job probably wasn’t someone who’d be a good conversationalist. 

Then I woke up in a hospital again which surprised everyone involved, especially because I did wake up in the morgue and it was all very, very exciting. Everyone at work was also very surprised! The book-that-kills-you hadn’t managed the job, which was a first, and so my wonderful, slimy little man of a boss put me in charge of all the flavors of books-that-kill-you. And gave me a raise. That was a plus.  

The first thing I did was label all the books-that-kill-you. I included methods! Not personally researched of course; I flirted with death, I didn’t call its number all day long. There were records, so I used them. It really cut down on requests for the books when people could read in nice, lovely detail exactly what it would liquefy in what order. I got them a nice, enclosed shelf, with nice little alcoves for each of them and three separate locks with three separate keys and I took very good care of all the sweet little darlings. 

Such good care that when it came time for the HR suggested non-denominational holiday party, my dearest, darlingest boss got me a free weekend spa trip gift certificate. It included a massage and an exquisite skin treatment and the gift basket it came in had some wonderful lotions. 

He was testing me, you know. He was curious, so, so curious, especially since the books weren’t doing a great job of killing me again, so he outsourced. 

I was very excited for my weekend spa trip. 

It was even in a very cute building! There was nothing off putting at all about the outside, and so the doors had already swung shut with that cheery little jingle before I felt the chill up my spine. Everyone at the desk was very nice, but also. Hm. Well, ahaha, they were a little strange, and I’d had enough time around my job that it seemed very sensible that the first thing I asked was if this was a murder spa, and they were delighted to inform me that yes, yes it was and they did so hope I would be satisfied with their services.

This was objectively a bad answer, but they all had very nice skin and I really did want to try out their treatments, so I sighed, said that sounded about right, and asked if my gift certificate was still valid since I’d, you know, mentioned the murdering. 

And then I thought about it and said no, actually, could you bill my boss for the full amount? 

How about, I said, I come back in and we start from the top? I won’t mention the murdering, and we can have ourselves a fun little weekend? We can upgrade to deluxe. Like an escape room where you give me a manicure and have real knives and I run from you in a cute little bathrobe. 

They liked that a lot. So, that’s what we did. I walked back out, closed the door, and popped back in and complimented them on their nails, which really were very well done. 

This might have been a slight miscalculation. 

See, it made me fun, and made them fond of me, made them want to keep trying outside of just natural murderousness. It definitely did not stop them from killing me, but see, ahaha. I was really very bad at dying. How did they do it? This wasn’t the skinning, no. See they were rather playful with me for the first, mmm… five times? It wasn’t until we hit ten and kept counting that they got deadly serious about it; I think it was a matter of pride, then. But ah, the spa… I think I may have racked up a couple deaths honestly, but I remember having a lovely massage, if you ignored the blood and horrors - which I did not because they were putting on a show and it was only polite to be appropriately terrified -  and as I lay immobilized on the table, feeling those too-stiff fingers work at my muscles, slowly, deliberately up my back and to my neck, her fingers cradled my throat so tenderly before she snapped my neck like a twig. Quite quick and polite! 

It kept my skin quite flawless. They wanted it nice and whole and undamaged for one of them to wear! 

But it didn’t stick. 

Have you ever seen a desperately confused mannequin pretending to be a person look at you with fear? She had lovely makeup and very well done eyelashes, but when I got up from the table she’d just killed me on and thanked her for the excellent massage, she, hahah, oh, poor girl. She called her boss. They thought I was an, you used 'avatar' I think?, messing with them and got rather more murdery for a bit, including having one of the two big guys strangle me as I waited for my facial, but none of them worked for long. It was probably supposed to be very traumatizing, but after the first one I spent the weekend in a very pleasant post-death haze and really felt very relaxed and floaty. Like a pleasant dissociation? 

My skin was glowing by the time I left on Sunday and I smelled of nothing but sweet lavender atop the blood and I could hear some very intense phone conversations happening behind me as I drifted on out, which I could swear got even louder and maybe even panicked as I heard a ‘thud’ right before the door closed, and then I met my Death. 

His name is not Dr. Death but I really think he should consider it. He’s, ahaha, drop dead gorgeous honestly! 

Anyway, I recognized the exact look on his face because he had a face and I had seen that expression many times over the weekend, and it was precisely an astonished, bewildered “why is he not dead?” and a moment, maybe, where he debated trying his hand at it. 

It was kind of thrilling! I felt like someone had called the sexy manager to deal with me, and I was still rather out of it, so I laughed and held out my hand to him. 

Your turn? I asked with a wink, and he went from confused to utterly bemused, and did, in fact, take my hand. 

He was very cold, and the second his skin met mine, it felt like I snapped back into myself. And then he asked me, looking very intensely at our joined hands, if anyone like him had ever offered me a game? 

I took this to mean any skeletons even though he wasn't one himself and told him no, but I hadn't quite heard what the first one had said, so maybe they did! He was very interested in this, and then said he’d see me ‘next time’ and walked away, looking from me to something I couldn’t see inside the spa as he left. 

And, well. Then I went home! I don’t think my weekend really sank in until I got through my front door and took off my jacket and then I had myself a little breakdown, and also decided I was going to find out if my boss knew it was a murder spa and, if he did, I was going to put every book-that-kills-you related to bugs in his office and lock the door. 

He did Know about the spa, but he did not Know about my little plan. They regrettably did not kill him, but at least the bugs wrecked his nice jacket. 

Really, the murder spa was one of the nicer places. My survival only seemed to encourage whatever deal my boss and my new murderous acquaintances had, because every single work party and gift giveaway, I got a new gift certificate. I’ve probably been to every strange place in London by now; do you think they’d like it if I left reviews on them? Oh I really should. The natural history museum they have is a delight. Such life-like taxidermies. Looked just like the real thing as they hunted me down! They even let out the archaeopteryx they’d made! Absolutely terrifying and such a creative use of parts!

I saw my Death that time too! It was a messier death for me and I was quite embarrassed to be seen with my guts all over the floor, but he was a gentleman about it. He knelt down and watched with rapt fascination as my blood and organs oozed everywhere, until I said he could at least take me to dinner first, and I remember very well what he said to me, because well, now that I know, I can’t blame him. 

He said, “Do you know what I see? I see the End trying to claim you. Wrapped so thickly around you I can barely see your skin, tangled around your intestines like a skein even now, but it can’t… grasp you. Somehow, you just keep slipping through, and so it…” He looked away, following the strands I couldn’t see. “And so it grasps what it can.” 

I remember him smiling, and I think my heart stuttered. 

“Don’t touch him when you wake up.” 

It must have been enthralling to see. I can’t blame him for staring and staring and grinning until my vision got very spotty when he reached out to touch either my ripped stomach or the tendrils, and his fingers stroked my flesh. I woke up in a pool of my own blood, with my stomach only slightly sore, and his coat draped over my exposed body. 

I took it as a ‘no’ on dinner. I- oh that’s right! I was very upset about this, so I did burn down that museum. Have to cross it off the review list, then. It’s fine: the curator was already dead when I found him splayed on his office floor, so nobody was hurt. I stepped very carefully around him as I poured the gasoline! After all, Dr. Death told me not to touch ‘him,’ and while I’m not 100% sure on mannequin or whatever he was gender, I think he was a he so I played it safe. 

Our playdates got a little more, mm, aggressive after that! Spas, museums, a couple very impressive gymnastic and theater performances, a fair that came through a town I just happened to be visiting that weekend, and more scattered conversations with Dr. Death. He only ever showed up when I was probably supposed to be dying, and I think he said it was because he was not actually there; that this was something like a dream I entered, my brain desperately struggling against the End, and he just grew more and more fascinated as those tendrils continued to slide away from my skin to somewhere else. To someone else. 

Oh yes, he told me that. He was very curious that it seemed to always land on one of the avatars that had to do with my death, and yet it appeared I had no say in exactly who they would entangle and smother. I couldn’t see them. Couldn’t interact with them in any way. As my deaths piled up though, I began to feel them. 

By the seventh, they were ghosts brushing against me, light as feathers. 

By the twelth, I heaved through the ethanol burning its way through my flesh and eating away at my stomach as I lay sprawled in a dark warehouse beside my kidnapping/hostage chair, but I could feel the cold, cold touch coiled tight and real around my throat. Slick and, well, terrifying! Like ice as I felt it leave residue behind on my skin, as I wretched and cried and really felt fear in a way I never had before in these dreams. I thought I really would die that time. So did he. 

They were so tight. So inescapable. So much worse than ropes. I think he really enjoyed watching me struggle against that relentless thing that was so, so eager to claim me at last. His eyes were so bright, his breathing faster than usual as he brushed the hair off my clammy forehead. When the familiar cut to black didn’t happen at his touch, we both knew it. I’ll never forget the way he smiled, then. That I, this strange, slippery little thing that had dodged the inevitable for so long, would finally be properly entangled. He was enraptured, and I’d never seen him look so gorgeous. 

I couldn't speak, but I could move my arms, so I did. I grabbed at my Death's fancy coat and pulled him in and he let me kiss him. We'd danced around it every time, and I thought if this was it, well. I could at least get a kiss. It was not pretty or delicate. I was actually flattered he let me do it, since, well. I was a little disgusting at the time, but when I gagged again, he just pet my hair and then, ah. Then he kissed my forehead, so softly, so tenderly. 

His hands cradled my cheeks, and, mm. Then it got a little awkward, because quite suddenly, I was back in my apartment. It was morning. I had the worst hangover of my life, and could still feel the cold, lingering touch of his lips on my forehead and I felt like an absolute scumbag. 

‘Hey sorry, really thought I was actually dying there, I swear I wasn’t leading you on!’ 

‘Hey we still cool after that fake out haha?’

I would have texted him if he’d ever thought to give me his number on any of the numerous occasions I asked, but the intense chill that closed around my body seconds after I stumbled up from the couch made me realize I wouldn’t have to. It felt like him, so I assumed it was. 

“I promise I didn’t do anything,” I said to the cold air, and felt it clench around my throat. I swallowed, and kept talking. “I thought I was going to die just as much as you did.” 

It just clenched harder. Hard enough for me to wheeze as I breathed through it, and a thought popped into my head. 

“What if next time,” I gasped. “What if next time, you offer me a game? What if that’s the reason I can’t die right? What if that first Death offered me a game but never followed through, and something got all messed up?” 

It felt like an age, but the pressure let up. He’d agreed. We both knew there’d be a next time - both knew the Strangers must have been absolutely furious, however the hell I’d managed to wriggle free, and it would be thoroughly unpleasant when they got me next. I think that’s the only reason my Death calmed down. He couldn’t kill me either, through whatever stupid rules lawyering I’d gotten tangled in, but he could be patient. 

He didn’t have to wait long. I didn’t even go anywhere that time. 

The Strangers came to me, and didn’t give me a single chance to run. 

They lashed me down the second they dragged me through the warehouse door. In under a minute, they had my skin bared, and that horrible, crescent-shaped knife began to cut. 

They began to skin me alive and conscious, and I could feel so, so many horrible glass eyes watching me as they did it. As the worst pain I’d ever felt made me scream into the gag in my mouth, as I felt them tug it off, piece by piece, and that cold swarmed in to fill the bloody holes. 

When I realized the room was oddly silent, I could barely even lull my head to the side to see Dr. Death standing there, eyes bright and firm as he held out - a revolver. 

An old fashioned six shooter. It matched him. The metal was cold and gray and just a little too dull in the weird half-light of this dreamy nightmare room. 

“Your game,” he said. “Russian Roulette.” 

Honestly all I could do was giggle. I could still very much feel the agony, and thinking was simply not going to happen. Not anymore. My muscles burned in the cold air, the scent of blood thick enough to choke on as I weakly reached up a hand for the gun, and only felt grateful he’d picked something easy. 

All I had to do was point the gun to my temple and pull the trigger. He helped. 

His cold hands wrapping around the bloody mess of my own, steadying my slick fingers on the trigger. I felt nothing but sweet relief as I pulled it. 

I knew without a doubt that every chamber of that gun was full, but in that moment, the End would be more than welcome. I pulled the trigger and heard a deafening… click. I felt the doctor’s hand on my own go still and very, very tight. Felt him force my bloody fingers to pull the trigger again and heard that click and all I could do was laugh. Half broken with pain and disbelief, but the doctor was very quiet. 

The gun had jammed. Impossible, isn’t it? 

But it meant that I won, and so. The doctor sighed, long and low, and gave me my chance.

He offered for me to become part of it, like him. Said I was already so tangled in it, I just needed to wake up and kill the first thing I saw with that gun. He had a feeling, he said, that it’d be more eager once pointed somewhere else. 

Ahah, oh you’ll never guess what I did. I did admit I am very vain, didn’t I? And they’d made such a nice body with my skin, and I didn’t really like the idea of one of them using it. 

So I took it back! It’s a bit strange, being filled with sawdust and whatever else, but the End never said I needed to take my body back. It just said wake up, so I woke up in something a little prettier! And then I shot every Stranger in that room and watched them collapse like the awful puppets they all were and my gun had a bullet for every single one of them and the End was very, very happy. You should have seen the doctor’s face when he came in, ahaha! I think he’d thought I’d rejected him when my original body went limp and empty!

Mhmhm~ 

It all worked out quite well, I think! The good doctor finally gave me his number, after all. And took me out to dinner. 

So! Do you want that kiss? 

No? Ah, alright. Take care, little Archivist. I’m sure we’ll meet again some time. 

[imaginatorcreates]

Commission for Kewkies (@xxxkewkiesxxx)

Kewkies here asked me to write a little scene about her Welcome Home OC, Sabrina Spool, and the neighborhood's famous painter, Wally Darling. There weren't a lot of requirements nor requests for this piece by Kewkies, and the idea and general plot came to me when out and about.

Enjoy this written piece!

Stitch Some Time For Yourself

14 May 2024 — 29 May 2024

Summary: Sabrina, the neighborhood's resident seamstress, suddenly finds herself under a time crunch to make costumes for Sally's upcoming play. How does she deal with the pressure?

Word Count: ~3.1k words

TW: None

Author’s Note: Enjoy! Also on AO3 as a gift.

Sabrina Spool was Home’s resident tailor. Seamstress sounded more elegant to her, but she wasn’t fussy over the details of her job’s name. No, her fussiness instead came over the details of her job. What was it that carpenters said?

Measure twice, cut once.

For Sabrina, not only did she measure twice — sometimes thrice — and cut once, she stretched sheets of fabric between her hands and made calculations in her head. Would this fabric stretch enough to accommodate her customer’s body type, or would she have to allot extra fabric to make up for it? What type of fabric would the customer want; cotton for comfort and breathability, or perhaps silk for the texture and smooth feel?

And don’t get started with her about colors!

While she preferred darker shades herself, she knew that everyone had their favorite colors and patterns to wear. The colors and patterns, when stitched together in just the right size and paired with the right clothes, made the ideal outfit.

Yes, that was what she was fussy over.

Sabrina loved her job, now don’t get her wrong. Nothing can really quite match the exhilaration that she got when someone’s eyes lit up after seeing her work, nor the warmth that filled her body from words of praise once her customer tried on the article of clothing she made for them.

Well, there were quite a few things, she supposed. A good hug or a gift as her payment, for one thing. A large, sweet watermelon or a tart green apple. Her morning ritual with Llyod, as annoying as he was.

And a certain, little puppet of the neighborhood: Wally Darling. He loved apples with just as much — quite possibly more — gusto as she does. His half-lidded eyes and blue, swirled pompadour were part of the charm that drew so many towards him, Sabrina included. From his hands burst painted portraits of still life and of his neighbors that he loved so dearly. And when he pressed those hands against his mouth? A blown kiss with a monotonous “Mwah!”

Oh, even now Sabrina wondered how the two of them managed to get together! It was all so new, like an apple that just ripened to optimal sweetness. If she thought about it too hard, she may accidentally poke herself while sewing.

What have they done already?

They’ve held hands — Wally’s small gasp of “Oh! You’re holding my hand!” made her grin to no end when her mind wandered to it. They’ve certainly spent time together, enough to consider them dates (to her).

But what else can they do?

Knocks on the front door beckoned her out of her thoughts. She turned away from her sewing machine and paused. “Llyod, I swear if you locked yourself out again — !”

“Mailman! Eddie Dear here!”

At the kind southern accent, the vampiric seamstress turned off her sewing machine and hurried to the front door. She turned the doorknob, then opened the door so only a slender crack was visible. Bright sunlight poured through and she squinted outside with a small wince. Beyond flashes of color and small floaters in her vision, she could catch glimpses of the portly mailman waiting for her with bundles of wrapped packages in his arms.

After a few minutes of acclimating herself to the sunlight, she fully opened the door. “‘Ello Eddie,” she greeted him.

“Howdy Miss Spool.”

“Please, call me Sabrina.”

Eddie sputtered. “Sabrina! Apologies Miss Sp– Sabrina.”

Sabrina chuckled and lightly shook her head. All predictable Eddie. “Do you have any mail for me?”

“Ah, well…” Eddie jutted his chin towards the bundles in his arms. “Cloth orders for ya. Howdy was particular ‘bout these gettin’ to ya in one piece.” He shifted the packages and Sabrina took the cue to take them in her arms.

She knew what was inside: lengths of dark cloth, a few dozen sewing needles for her machine and for her hands, and several spools of thread. Still, her eyes widened and she mumbled “Huh” as she took the wrapped packages. They were heavier than she expected.

“Oh, ‘n Sally wanted to give this to ya,” Eddie said as he placed an envelope on top of the packages. “She said it was important, ‘n to read it ‘a-sap’. Whatever that means?”

Sabrina blinked a few times at the envelope, and at Eddie’s words. “I will do that Eddie. Thank you.”

Eddie tipped his hat and took a few steps backwards before he turned on the balls of his feet to head off towards his next delivery.

Sabrina would’ve waved goodbye to him, but her hands were full.

She closed the front door with a bump of her hip and maneuvered back to her room with the caution and grace of a dancer who was paired with someone who never danced before. Her feet knew where to step in her dim house, and she could nudge open doors with ease. But the packages in her arms caused her center of gravity to be located somewhere else, so her elegant movements were hindered. Twice, she dangerously tipped too far and nearly caused any number of packages to slide out of her grip and onto the floor.

In the comfort of her workroom, she ditched her ungraceful packages gently onto the floor and shook out her arms. She shut her door and lowered the lights down, letting the dimness of the room calm her senses once again. She knew that most of the neighborhood preferred a warm sunny day for one reason or another: Frank found sunny days to be optimal for insect observations, while Julie enjoyed making games that made everyone scratch their heads at the rules but at least no furniture would be broken by the end of it.

Sabrina, on the other hand, preferred the night and overcast waking hours. She was aware that this might feed into the fact that she — and Llyod, but this wasn’t about him — were more vampiric than their neighbors, but no one commented much about it nowadays, so she assumed that no one really cared anymore.

She unwrapped her packages and placed the contents where they belonged, taking extra care to not misplace her new batch of needles. She already lost too many to the cracks of her house and carpet. Even when she does her customary sweep of her workroom with a magnet (also from Howdy’s), at least one needle would surprise her when walking barefoot.

Then again, sometimes they would surprise Llyod.

But she couldn’t have any stray needles surprise any of her customers. That would lower her customer service for sure.

Sabrina’s eyes glanced over the letter Sally wrote for her. The playwright’s circular handwriting on the envelope said “To: Sabirella”, and underneath it said “Read ASAP” almost as if Sally didn’t trust Eddie to remember to tell Sabrina to do so.

Sabrina’s nose wrinkled at the elongated version of her name, but she’s long gotten used to the fallen star’s quirks. “Please, it’s Sabrina,” she murmured to herself as she opened the envelope and read the letter inside. For everything that Sally was, at least she was trying to understand what did and didn’t work when trying to communicate with Sabrina. The star’s bright aura — literally and figuratively — drained Sabrina’s energy quicker than she could drain fruit of its juice.

Dearest Sabirella,

I’m sure that you remember my request for your work last month. I remember it like it was yesterday: I, Sally Starlet, gracing you with my presence to craft costumes for my upcoming petrifying play. I can still see your eyes squinting and widening as I slipped you the list of costumes I required.

Now, I know that I said that I’d give you as much time as possible.

Darling, that’s changed.

I need what you have as best as you can by the end of this week. It’s a shame, but I will settle for simplified designs if that is what will work. Your payment will still be front row seats to the play where I’ll be featuring your costumes.

I’ll be expecting the gothic garbs soon.

Sincerely,

Sally

Sabrina paused. She read the letter again. Once more for good measure.

The letter’s edges started to crumple as the seamstress’s fingers gripped the paper with more force than necessary. “A week?” she whispered. “I thought I had two weeks. You– Sally!”

Almost as if the star herself was here instead of the letter in her place, flourishing her hands and beaming from her rays, the vampire felt her energy drain. Her pep and love towards her work left her and was replaced with only a burning annoyance.

“By the end of this week? And simplified?” she hissed. “When I had plenty of plans to give only the best?” She slammed the letter down onto her work desk, causing the items on top to rattle and move slightly from the force. “Do you know how difficult it is to have to rework this?”

Sabrina huffed and pulled out her sketches. She viciously grabbed a pencil and was ready to violently scribble out the costumes she had yet to start. She could already feel the lead of the pencil tear through the paper, tearing her plans into nothing but black graphite and ripped paper.

She paused.

She breathed in, and out.

She let out a sharp sigh and threw the pencil down onto her table. “Simplified. End of this week.” She snapped her mouth shut and went about her work.

The days ticked down. Sabrina spent them all in her dim workroom with only the rhythmic whirr and hum of her sewing machine filling the silence. Multiple times, she poked herself with the needles, but not once did those pokes lead way to any larger injuries.

Lloyd quickly learned to not walk in without knocking, or to not even bother trying at all. The first time he had tried, Sabrina had abruptly stood up and slammed the door on him. His fingers had gotten caught in between the door and the frame.

In hindsight, she was sorry. She would’ve apologized if she had enough time, but that was what she was low on. She was low on time and patience, and she let everyone who interacted with her know.

She got her work done though. She projected as much mercy as she could towards her work, but even those couldn’t escape her wrath when the stitches couldn’t work just the way she wanted them to, or when the colors were just a little bit off. She probably sounded like a madwoman, yelling at the clothes to just fit together better. Several times, she threw the shabbiest of her works onto the floor and stared at them with a look that could kill.

She got her work done. That was what was important.

She got her work done. It was simplified and not as fancy as she imagined, but she got her work done.

Still, she yearned to add some of the additions that she had imagined. The fluffy flowers and the drapes on the shoulders. The cape and ruffles.

On the night before Sally was supposed to pick up the costumes, Sabrina was certain that she hadn’t left the house in forever. She could hear her sewing machine in her sleep, even though she was certain that she turned it off and unplugged it. She could feel the fabrics underneath her fingers and she could feel every stitch that she was certain was misplaced.

She was proud of her work, but at the same time, she wanted to take them all and rip them apart. Start over again. Do it better. Make what she imagined in her head come to life in front of her.

A knock on her door.

She didn’t have the energy to answer it.

Her door creaked open. “Sabrina,” Lloyd called. “Your aim better be good so you don’t hit your actual guest.”

Sabrina opened her mouth to retort, but words had been failing her lately. Still, a whole different reason as to why she said nothing was revealed to her as the guest turned out to not be Llyod but instead — 

“Hello Sabrina,” a quiet, monotonous voice said. It echoed throughout the vampire’s workroom and cut through the sewing machine’s constant noise.

She looked up from her work, but she didn’t turn around. Oh, just when she was almost done, she was hallucinating.

Quietly, two sets of footsteps entered. Several thumps as multiple objects were placed on a free portion of her work desk, then one set of footsteps left. The one that left was heavier and larger, less graceful.

The one that stayed was smaller and quieter. There was a certain way that this one walked.

Sabrina turned off her sewing machine.

“Hello Sabrina,” Wally said. “I got you some fruit from Howdy’s. Llyod was also there, and he helped me carry the watermelon back.”

Watermelon. The vampire had cut herself off from her favorite fruit halfway through her work last week, before she even got Sally’s letter. Convinced herself that she would get it when she was done, as a treat.

“And I carried the apples.” Sabrina heard Wally shuffle closer to her work desk, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw him poke a finger at one of the green apples. He hummed and added, “I don’t understand why you like green apples. Red ones are better to me. But you like apples, so I think the color doesn’t matter too much.” He turned his head to look at her as he nudged one of the apples closer.

Sabrina took one of the green apples in her hand. It was unblemished and smelled perfectly ripe. Howdy’s bodega only contained things that he deemed were of a certain quality to sell. So obviously this fruit was perfect.

It was even more perfect as she pushed her chair away from her work desk, brought it up to her mouth, and sank her fangs into the fruit. She easily pierced through the skin and flesh of the apple, and the juice was sweet and tart.

She almost forgot that there was a watermelon there as she dove after all the apples gifted to her, drinking all the juice until the fruit was nothing more than dried skin and disgusting flesh. Then Wally nudged the large green and striped fruit towards her and she dove after that as well.

Sabrina was a clean drinker when she fed from fruit. She performed the actions with a lady-like poise and prevented as much juice from spilling as possible.

But after she’s deprived herself of her favorite fruits for a while? Add on top of that how she had been stressed from the moon and back, and she threw her finesse out the window. Juice spilled from her mouth and onto her skirt, but she didn’t pay any attention to it until the watermelon was a water-less-melon.

“Sabrina,” Wally said as Sabrina wiped her mouth. “I haven’t seen you for over a week.” He tilted his head and blinked once. He never really blinked much when around his neighbors, and much less around his close friends. He seldom blinked around Sabrina, as if each blink was a full day away from the vampire.

Sabrina looked away. She could’ve pulled her chair forwards and continue working. But her hands were a bit sticky from apple and watermelon juice, and she would hate to ruin the clothes. So she avoided his gaze and fiddled with her fingers.

“Sabrina,” Wally repeated. “I heard from Sally that her play will be tomorrow instead. I know that you’re making her costumes. Have you been taking breaks?” He leaned against her and breathed out a little “Oh!” when she wrapped an arm around him. He went limp and hummed, content with the touch.

“I have to finish this.” Sabrina’s voice came out softer than she expected, with more force than she expected. Talking had become difficult the closer the deadline was, until she could no longer bear to. “I have to finish this.”

“You look almost done.”

“But — ”

“I think Sally would not mind if you gave her something simple.”

“I would mind.”

Wally hummed. “I think your work always looks nice. Something simple made from your hands is always nice. It also feels nice to wear. I like wearing the cardigan you made for me, and I think it makes me look handsome.”

Sabrina chuckled and softly shook her head. “You’re always handsome, my candy apple.” When he laughed that soft, monotonous laugh that Sabrina loved so dearly, she gently squeezed him and leaned over to give him a small kiss on the cheek.

Wally’s semi-permanent smile widened, causing the edges of his eyes to crinkle. “Oh! You are very sweet Sabrina.” He reached towards her face and brushed a thumb against her cheek, his dark eyes looking deeply into her own. “You’re very, very sweet,” he whispered.

One moment, the two of them were staring into each other’s eyes. The next moment, in Sabrina’s opinion, was very sweet and very soft.

She realized, only then, that she forgot one thing when trying to remember what the two have done already since becoming an official couple. Maybe because it was a bit unorthodox, seeing how it was only brought up once then never again. She had made hints towards it, but he never picked up on them. It was only when she had asked him directly did he realize what she was asking. No wonder he didn’t pick up on it; he thought she was being friendly still, just in a different manner.

So when the two parted, it was soft and sweet. Sabrina lightly pinched his cheeks and cooed about how lovely it was. Wally leaned into the touch and softly shut his eyes.

That was the longest break Sabrina took where she wasn’t sleeping or eating. The two simply lingered in each other’s presence, asking about the day and the week. The dried fruit was discarded and Sabrina’s hands were cleaned of the spilled juice.

Wally stayed for a little longer while she worked. He was hypnotized by the sewing machine and his hands stroked some of the fabric as Sabrina fed it into the machine.

All the fuzz in her mind cleared and her work became less muddled and misshapen. They were already good.

And the next evening, when she sat in the front row to Sally’s gloomy gothic play and watched the actors glide upon the stage with her garbs on display, it didn’t really matter how much the play went sideways.

She was just glad that she could do what she enjoys.

[the-broken-truth]

The Strings That Bind Us ~ The Reunion

Summary: A Male Foreigner is found and captured on the outskirts of the village & brought before Mother Miranda & The Four House Lords. Upon waking - the male comes face to face with Angie - Donna's Living Puppet - and instantly recognizes her before calling out for Donna herself. Just who is this male and who does he know Donna?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Male OC (Vulcan)

[Unknown Place - Unknown Time]

He didn't remember where he was. He doesn't remember how he got here. All he does remember was that he traveled to Romania to search for something precious that he lost years ago. He happened to stumble upon a rather destroyed-looking village that basked in the shadow of an enormous castle; the village itself looked as if its residents all rose at once and abandoned it and all their possessions.

The man walked through the frozen dirt streets of the village with a black, hooded cloak upon his shoulders & the hood upon his head; revealing only his chin and his mouth to the elements - occasionally, his breath with leave his lips and freeze in the cold winter air. He continued to walk around until he stood in the middle of a multi-crossroads, unsure of which way to go. He stood still until he lifted his right hand - revealing a ring on his finger but this ring was different.

The ring was not made of gold or silver - nor was it made of titanium or brass - this ring was more fragile than that for the ring was made of porcelain. Its smooth white surface shined even in the low sunlight. He brought the ring to his lips and kissed the cold surface of it as he tried to keep himself from crying as the memories came back.

'I'll find you and I promise I'm going to protect you - both of you.'

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of twigs breaking and snarling - he looked around and saw a creature unlike anything he ever saw before - it was humanoid but its skin was grey, it has a mouth full of sharp teeth, and it the noises it made - it was almost wolf-like. He wanted it to say it was a Lycan but it looked nothing like what a Lycan would look like. There were more and more snarls - he looked to see he was now surrounded by these Lycan Rejects. That's when his 'Fight or Flight' instincts kicked in but he's never been one to flee - he never ran from a fight when he sensed something he cared about was in danger. His ring was in danger of being shattered if those things got a hold of him and he would be damned if he let anything shatter his ring. He reached behind his back - under his cloak - with both hands and withdrew two daggers with black blades and silver handles.

"Bring it." He snarled as he dashed into the line of creatures and began to slaughter them left and right until they all laid dead at his feet and his blades were soaked in blood - still dripping from the curve.

"Well - that was an interesting show to watch. I didn't think you could slaughter my lycans with knives like that and still be standing. You're strong as hell, my friend." A voice called out from behind him. He turned to see a tall man wearing a hat with a green coat - he had grey hair that was complete with a beard and circle glasses. He held a massive hammer constructed out of gears and other metals - speaking of metals, the metal that surrounded him on the ground began to levitate around him with each step he took. The stranger took a puff of the cigar he was smoking.

"You call those 'Lycans'? Please, don't make me laugh. Also - who the hell are you?" The cloaked man asked.

"Oh - you're not a local! That's even better." The hammer-wielder smiled as he pointed at the cloaked man - sending a pole flying at him at high speeds until it stabbed through his cloak and into his shoulder, making him grunt and drop one of his daggers; which then got pulled into the strange man's magnetic field.

"Mother Miranda's gonna love you." The man smirked as more metal began to encompassing the cloaked man, trapping him in a metal cocoon of some kind. Before the metal fully took him, his armed hand covered the ring to prevent it from facing the impact of the metal. Soon - began to slip into unconsciousness.

[Unknown Amount Of Time Later]

"I'm telling you - this bastard slaughter my entire squad with these daggers." A familiar voice called out.

"Well - it's obvious your little 'game' would be more of a 'hunting game' to him. I think I can find a better use for him." An elegant feminine voice called out as a response.

"Oh, and what use is that? Using him to make the next brood for your bloodline? Please - he's a hunter so he goes with other hunters and if it takes to him better then he can be the alpha I was looking for." The familiar voice said again.

The unconscious man began to stir awake & opened his eyes to see...wait...It couldn't be her. The familiar large head and thin body with thin limbs, downed in a wedding dress-like attire complete with a veil. He looked at the doll - not in familiar - but astonishment and...was that hope that she saw in his eyes.

"He's awake!" The doll called out as she looked at the other people in the room.

To the left, seated in a chair - a rather tall woman dressed in the look of a royal lady. If he was to guess, she was the owner of the large castle he saw when he first come here.

Across from her was the man who trapped him - his hammer resting by his legs as he saw on a pue of some kind.

To the left of him, more tucked away in the shadows was a small figure, cloaked in fabrics as if to hide his appearance.

Across from him, seating in a chair was a figure downed in black attire, wearing a dark veil over their head, the only part of their body was their hands - by the look of those hands, that person was female.

'I've seen those hands before.' More hope filled his heart.

In the center of it all was a woman - she must have been the leader of it all.

They were talking about something - but the man couldn't care less, when he saw the doll walk away he hurried to his knees but couldn't get all the way up because of the binds but he could use his voice.

"W...Wait...Angie...Angie, is that you?" The man asked.

This caused everyone to stop talking and looked in his direction - including the doll, who was completely confused.

"How do you know my name? Have we met before?" Angie asked as she slowly moved closer to the bound male, who shook the hood off his head to reveal his looks.

His skin was tan but it was a bit paler due to being in the snow for so long. He had short black hair that was wild and free, his eyes...they were amber - burning bright with an unknown emotion.

"Yes, we have; decades ago but you were...alive like this..." His eyes widened as he began looking around. "If you're here then...Donna? Is Donna here too?! Donna?!" He began calling out - almost like a worried spouse looking for their other half.

Everyone looked at the man before looking at the veiled figure sitting to the left of the leader.

"Do you know him, Donna Dear?" the raven-masked woman spoke.

The man's breath caught as he heard her words and looked at the veiled figure who rose from her seat; Angie ran back to her and stood by her side, clenching her dress in her hands like a child holding their mother.

"Donna..." The man spoke softly - tears began to build in his eyes as he tried to rise to his feet - only to be stopped by the binds and cuffs that kept him down. He glared at the restraints and began pulling on them.

"Good luck with that. You're cuffed up ti-"

*CLANK!*

Everyone's eyes widened as the binds holding the captive were shattered, allowing him to stand at his full height.

The Hammer-Wielder jumped to his feet and summoned his hammer to his left hand as if he was getting ready to strike him but the man didn't care - he kept his eyes on Donna, who looked in his direction.

"Donna...I...I found you. After all this time, I finally found you." The man's voice cracked as he spoke with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face.

"Just who are you? How do you know us?" Angie spoke from her place. The man smiled at the doll.

"It's been decades, Angie. It's only natural you don't remember me...after all - you weren't as alive as you are now when we met. My name is Vulcan and I've been searching for you and Donna since the day you guys disappeared." The man - Vulcan - smiled at Donna, who still said nothing, and slowly raised his hand - revealing the porcelain ring on his finger; Donna and Angie gasped at the sight of it.

"I kept it, Donna. I kept this ring just as I kept my promise." Vulcan slowly staggered towards Donna and Angie - completely ignoring the looks the Noble Lady and the Hammer-Wielder were giving him. He took the single step in his way and was now standing before them. He blinked - letting the tears fall from his eyes as he reached out and took Donna in his arms; hugging her as he rested the tip of his nose on her head.

"I'm here, Donna...I won't leave you, I promise." Vulcan sobbed.

Donna - who was silent for the most part - slowly reached her hands up and returned to hug as she clenched his cloak as if he would disappear - as if this was all a dream.

"Vulcan." She spoke as she nuzzled her head into his broad chest with a weak sob of her own.

[End]

[sooibian]

Freed

image from Pinterest, edited by me

Pairing: Baekhyun x Fem!Reader

A/N: Dedicated to smol bby @vampwrrr ’s magnificent mistresspiece Sweet Lies

Inspired by: I’m sorry about the blood in your mouth, I wish it was mine - Richard Siken +

Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations - Margaret Atwood

Description: A headcanon exploring SL OC’s thoughts after Baekhyun’s confession.

Genre/Warnings: Dark themes, destructive thoughts, Ambiguous AU

Word count: ~ 1.3k

Mollycoddling a murderer.

This isn’t how you thought you’d react. Not in your wildest dreams. In your wildest dreams, you’d probably strike him with a vase or a glass bottle like they do in the movies: out of horror or hurt or both. His head was supposed to be on the floor, completely drained off of blood, not solaced in the comfort of your lap.

This isn’t how you were raised to react. It went against everything you ever believed to be true - the bits and pieces that made you you. The rationalization of the black and white and the in-between. But you know now that the in-between isn’t what they say it is. The in-between isn’t grey. It’s technicolour. It’s the red of passion, the blue of stability, the yellow of happiness. 

They say it’s grey because they’re so terrified of their own sentiments - resisting them so vehemently. Desensitizing themselves to being almost human. 

Perhaps they’ve never been in a love this…grave. Grave. You swish the word in your mouth like an ice cube, the insides of your cheeks feeling unpleasantly cold. Grave. Like it’s going to be the death of you. 

This love. 

You thought you had a choice in the matter. Whatever it may be, you always had a choice. The sheer ridiculousness of this thought makes you chuckle - your yeses and noes never mattered. You’ve been nothing more than a dry leaf caught in the wind. Drifting. Dancing to the whims of the air current. 

Decisions, decisions. 

So much wasted time on the events you had no control over: it had been one giant, extensive freefall. The happiness, the suffering. It was all beyond you. You weren’t required to piece the puzzle, only make sense of it. 

Or not. 

Baekhyun’s asleep, his breathing is levelled. Scarily soft. This is the calm after the storm. He’s come clean. Is this supposed to purge him of his sins?

Questions. So many questions. 

Is he worthy of your trust? But, do you still hold him accountable for it? Accountable for his own actions? Maybe. Accountable for you? Questions…questions…

Dangling, devoid of control, perhaps to him you were a puppet. A plaything. Maybe his favourite plaything. Yet, just that. But does this negate his feelings? Even if it was all just an act: to lure you in, to keep you forever. Doesn’t mean it was untrue. It couldn’t have been. Not all of it.

There’s a gossamer-thin line between surreal and untrue.

You’ve always wondered, much to your detriment, if you were ever worthy of his love. Would you be able to carry the weight of this question or sink underneath it. But this question still stands: very valid in its own right. It often sprouts prickly seeds of negativity in your heart and mind. So you shove down the deepest darkest corner of your subconscious: hacking it off every time it rears its ugly head. 

So, are you worthy? Have you ever been worthy? For a moment, even?

Baekhyun is the embodiment of for better, for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish…

‘til death do us part. 

Maybe he’d be better qualified to gauge your worthiness. Maybe he’d even think of it as futile. Maybe none of this ever mattered to him for as long as you’d let him love you.

Truly amazing, what people can get used to, as long as there are a few compensations.

….as long as you’d let him love you. You find a juvenile sense of comfort in this idea of having some semblance of control.

So, what now? You think, stroking his pretty little head that holds secrets so profoundly tragic. How does this earthen vessel, entirely made up of milk and honey and one trauma, not disintegrate by the sheer impact of its choices?

Would anybody actually believe this? Your ever so sweet and puppy-like Baekhyun was actually capable of acts this despicable? Your saviour was also a destroyer because of the one heinous thing he witnessed. The one thing that so terribly skewed the chemical balance of his brilliant brain. But aren’t we all bent out of shape? In our own way? Who’s to be the judge of these imbalances? How much is too much? At what point do the scales tip?

If you were to turn him in, who’s to say he’d come out a changed man?

If they ever let him out, that is.

He’s not the absolute worst of the lot. He’s not a wife-beater, a cheater, or a rapist. Maybe you’re rationalizing. But some would even argue that The Reaper is actually scrubbing the earth off its scum. Is this supposed to make him a hero? 

He’s no hero, he’s no vigilante.

He’s your husband.

Who’s loved you unequivocally, albeit in his own twisted way. He is your husband. And you are going to protect him. You’re not going to turn him in. You’re not losing the one person that’s loved you this catastrophically. 

It all boils to one question.

“Baekhyun? Sweetheart?”

You’re as gentle as you’d be with a newborn. But he awakens with a shudder and sits across from you: hunched, cross legged, hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, brows pinched together, lips protruding in a pout. The seam of your trousers had imprinted a reddish dent across his right cheek.

“It’s alright, puppy. It’s alright”, the tips of your fingers tenderly travel the stretch of his face: relearning, tracing his eyelashes, the curve of his lips, his jaw, his cute little nose.

“Little doe, don’t leave”, he pulls away and begins to cry, sobs muffled as he presses his face into his hands. 

“I’m here, Baekhyunie. I’m here”, you grip his wrist, tugging, urging him to look at you.

“Always?” 

His gaze shoots up to meet yours. Steady. Challenging.

“Baekhyun…”

“Always?” 

Testing.

“Baekhyun, please…”

“Sorry, I’m sorry…I’m not right for you..I never have been. You deserve better, you deserve more! If you want to leave, I understand…”

Your skin is raw, it’s sensitive. Like you’re reborn out of red hot flames. Pure. Clean. Carrying no cuts and bruises of the past. Maybe this is what it feels like.

Being in control.

Finally.

“Baekhyun, can you stop?”

His eyes bore into yours, journeying the bottomless pit of your soul. You catch his molten chocolate irises darken in a flash. Jaw clenched, hands hardened into fists, he rasps through gritted teeth -

“No.”

You take his fists and bring them up to your lips, peppering them with soft kisses, soothing them open. Then, the tips of his fingers. Slow, deliberate pecks. His eyes, although calculating and unsure, soften again, lips ease into a mellow smile. 

You make your way into his lap, cup his face, his lips barely an inch from yours. The nearly domineering grip of his arms around your waist steadying you. Inside and out.

He’s truly a work of art. Deeply unsettling, thought-provoking. An enigma. The pain that runs so deep in his blood, you wish to tear it away from him. However ruinous it may end up being. For him. 

For you.

You run your thumb across his lower lip, his eyes flutter shut almost involuntarily at the contact. Blood rushes to your head as your lips crash into his and a breath escapes him in a throaty groan. 

He tastes like iron. 

Leisurely at first, he’s quick to match your fervour then just like that, he outpaces you, leaving you gasping for each breath. His fingers dig deep into the skin of your back. Craving, yet carrying the potential to crush your bones to dust.

You’d let him. 

A/N: Thank you @changshapatrol​ and @vampwrrr​ for being my friends *pouts* i love you both very much 💕

[brandywine-tomatoes]

Hope was a Dangerous Game

Masterlist

Another oc fic

Characters: male!oc/Crosshair, the Batch

Prompt/Inspo: @keo-the-raptor was angsting with her oc and that gave me ideas

TW: depression, depressing thoughts, angst to loads of fluff, strong language

Word count: 1839

QUICK NOTE: Sinleo is my immortal cape maker/tailor.

Cross and him met on a peace treaty voyage with all the Naboo and Pantoran delegations since Sinleo is a long-time friend of the Naboo throne and besties with Riyo Chuchi. The Batch was stationed as part of the security detail.

They saw each other on and off over the years until Sinleo was encouraged to stay on the Havoc with Cross and the Batch (obvi without the Republic's knowledge).

--

Sinleo trudged through the busy streets of Coruscant, pushing and shoving his way through the gloomy crowd as everyone tried to get out of the pouring rain. He didn’t mind the intense downpour, it felt like a layer of grief was sliding down his shoulders, creating a thick sludge of sorrow being tugged along by his cheap boots.

He never wore his custom or expensive stuff anymore, not after the Empire took his trooper. He felt he lost a piece of himself, and without that piece, nothing else could fit. He had to pack away everything about himself into a mouldy storage locker. Crosshair had made his way into every part of him. He couldn’t think or look at those pieces without diving deeper into despair and isolation.

Force, he missed him. It hurt to even think sometimes. Everything everywhere reminded him that he wasn’t really in the galaxy, just a look-alike that tried to kill everyone close. Just a shell of something that used to love Sinleo. A shell of something that gave Sinleo something he never thought he’d get: Purpose. Hope. A future.

Hope was a dangerous game.

Sinleo dragged himself into the elevator, clicking the highest level and waited for the doors to slide open.

He tossed the drenched black windbreaker on the single wooden chair beside the door and made a beeline towards the mattress in the middle of the supposed living room. The ceiling fan was on full blast against the high ceilings, a sharp and cool wind blowing the dark greasy hair from his forehead. Cross used to do that. He used to hold Sinleo like he was his whole fucking world and brush the hair from his face.

He had to stop. Crosshair was gone. He wasn’t getting him back. Ever.

He’d survived for hundreds of years, he could survive hundreds more. But living them?

His depressing train of thought was cut off as an irritating beeping echoed off the bare walls from the windbreaker. Groaning, he stood and shuffled to the chair, taking out the comm device and flipping on the speaker and microphone.

“What?” He growled.

“You’ll want to hear this.”

“Hunter, I already told you, stop calling me.”

“Trust me, you’ll want to hear this.”

Sinleo paused and took a deep breath, defeated. “What do you want, bandana?”

“Are you sitting? You need to sit for this,” Hunter’s voice was growing more irritating by the second. Sinleo didn’t know if it was from pure annoyance of his past knocking on his comm device or how Hunter’s voice was filling with joy. Who the fuck could be joyful during this fucking time?

Sinleo pulled the wooden chair forward and sat. “I’m sitting.”

“Miss me, Sin?”

His heart jumped for a fraction of a second.

“Hunter,” he stood up in a rage. “I can’t fucking believe you. This is sadistic level shit. You really think I’m not in enough fucking pain without him? You think-”

“Alright alright, enough,” Hunter tuned back in. “Pack a bag for the next shuttle, I know you have senator-level security passes. Get to Alderaan’s National Spaceport, strip 3, by tonight. Private comm channels are unreliable for this kind of conversation.”

“Who the hell do take me for? A fucking fool? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sinleo. Please. For Cross. If you won’t believe it over comms, come see him yourself.”

Sinleo scoffed and practically snapped the comm device in half turning it off. The building in his eyes throughout the conversation spilt over. He let out a sob and crumbled to the ground. He shoved the palms of his hands into his eyes to try and stop the streaming of tears, only seeing a burst of crumbling light and a searing pain start to blossom.

He sat with his knees to the ground and let out sob after sob, grief-stricken memories of Crosshair giving one of his rare smiles or holding Sinleo’s face when everyone else was asleep making him sob even more. His muscles ached, his head pounded, he felt drained and empty and nowhere near better than before that conversation.

His heart leaped out of his chest when he heard his voice. It’d been almost a year since the love of his life used the nickname he gave him. His little sin.

He almost asked if it was really him, almost let himself believe he was alive and cut out of the puppet strings.

For just a second, he imagined seeing him again as Crosshair and not some Imperial mutt. His Crosshair. Hugging his Crosshair for hours so he wouldn’t slip away so easily again. Taking him to raid the upper-class district and leaving it in a flaming heap again like the first time they visited.

But then the ceiling fan pushed his hair from his forehead. The rainwater from the windbreaker was seeping through his clothes. His exhaustion from the last 10 months whittled its way back in.

He was gone.

But maybe he should pay his respects to his brothers. They were family after all. Maybe seeing them again, seeing the ship where him and Cross had their first kiss would offer a little closure. Offer a little piece of him back that Crosshair took. If he could get a piece of who he was, he might finally start working towards making someone new, someone whole again.

He made a few calls to senators and off-world shuttle security before he packed the few simple clothes he had and other necessities into a light duffle bag. The couple hours he had before the Coruscant guard came to escort him he curled up on the bare mattress and stared out the floor to ceiling windows numbly. He wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while, not after a breakdown like that, after what it uncovered.

Boy, would he pummel Hunter when he got there.

--

Sinleo fiddled nervously with the handle of the duffle bag on his lap as the shuttle gracefully touched down on the strip. The other passengers started undoing their safety harnesses as Sinleo sat there, paralyzed. He hadn’t thought of what he was doing. He only acted; he didn’t think of what would happen. What was waiting for him on strip 3? On that darkened and unused strip he passed seconds ago? Did his brothers fall to the Empire too? Was this all a trap for the Empire to finally nail him in jail for the shit he pulled in the past?

“Sir, we’ve landed,” a red-dressed bellhop gestured to the exit.

Sinleo fumbled with the safety harness and scurried towards the exit with the duffle in hand, accidentally ignoring the bellhop and descended the stairs. The passengers all left separate ways seemingly all over the tarmac towards groups of people or vehicles already waiting.

He walked in the direction of strip 3, pulling the same black windbreaker closer to him as a wind chill swept through the spaceport, ruffling his hair and lightly pushed him to the side. The tinted windows of the grand and beautifully historic spaceport building glistened softly against the pure black sky with Coruscant and Corellia on the other side of his view. The air was cleaner on Alderaan, it refreshed your lungs and brought a clear mind instead of the fogging effect the planet-wide city had.

As he neared the darkened strip 3, he spotted a group of moving figures, most likely the Bad Batch, and grimaced. This was a mistake; this was all a mistake. He should just turn back, save himself the embarrassing tears of seeing the crew again. He stopped dead in his tracks and seriously debating just getting a hotel and going back in the morning.

But one of the figures started walking towards him and he knew there was no going back. He couldn’t run away from them when they were right there.

He started his slow pace again, his heart beating quicker. That wasn’t one of the surviving Batch members. This was someone new. Or someone old.

“Sin!”

He stopped again, a heavy pressure resting on his chest. Oh my fucking god.

He dropped the duffle and started sprinting. “CROSS!”

His Cross kept the same pace as Sinleo closed the gap, already sobbing before they embraced. Crosshair spun Sinleo in a circle, a sputtering of a sob and a laugh escaping his choked-up throat. This wasn’t happening.

Sinleo buried his face in the crook of Cross’s neck, his arms impossibly tight around his waist as sobs racked his body.

It shredded the sniper’s heart that his absence had crumbled his love. But he was finally there with him. It wasn’t some dream in the back of his mind. It wasn’t some daydream that CT-9904 didn’t know how to explain. He was fucking there. This was all real. This was all he ever wanted.

A few tears leaked into Sinleo’s matted hair as Crosshair returned the death grip, whispering that he was there, and he wasn’t leaving. They wouldn’t let each other go again, not ever again. This was it. They were it. They were done with being alone, they were going to stay together for as long as they had. Sinleo muttered a few words before Cross lifted his head gently from his shoulder.

“Didn’t catch that, Sin.”

That sent another sob escaping Sinleo’s lips. They returned to their bone-crushing embrace for a few more moments before Sinleo lifted his head to try again at forming words.

Words failed him for a second as he finally got a look at the love of his entire life. “Don’t- don’t leave me again,” his voice came out desperate and hoarse.

Cross ran his thumbs over his cheeks. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sinleo closed the space, desperate to make up for their lost 10 months. Sinleo’s soft lips against his finally convinced him that it was over. No chip, no orders to follow, no one to report to. There was only him and his Sin, his first and last of everything in the middle of an airstrip, trying to convey how much they needed each other through a sloppy and suffocating kiss. Cross cupped his face and kissed back with everything he had, everything he could give.

They separated and gasped for air softly, foreheads leaning against one another as neither of them wanted to open their eyes. They stayed, Crosshair holding Sinleo and Sinleo’s arms around his waist, keeping them together.

The sniper was the first to flutter open his eyes, feeling heart palpations at the sight of a tired but peaceful Sin.

He smirked. “This is getting sappy.”

Sinleo snapped his eyes open and tried to glare at him. “We can be sappy.”

“Hell naw, we aren’t sappy,” he pulled away, sliding an arm around his shoulders.

Sinleo pecked his lips. “We are now.”

“Missed you.”

“Missed you too.”

“Oh no, we’re sappy now.”

Sinleo kept his arm around Cross’s waist, finally ready to approach the group far away at the edge of the tarmac. “I can live with that.”

--

A/N: I stayed up unit 5 in the morning writing this. It was an emotional ROLLERCOASTER, but I got it done in one day and I'm pretty happy with it!

please go easy on the critisism, this was the first time i wrote 2 characters sharing a kiss

If you want more of/about Sinleo or any other oc, just let me know! I love sharing my bbs!

[saiilorstars]

Chapter 1: Welcome Back

Current Story Masterlist  // Previous story // Maleny’s Masterlist

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x OFC

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Ma-leh-nee

Requested tag: @ocfairygodmother​ @anotherunreadblog​ @transformerfan97​ @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles

Story Summary: As they wait for the arrival of their long lost son, Klaus & his family face the prophecy spelling death for them all. Meanwhile, Maleny comes face to face with a past left buried within her thousand lives. She's faced with the one truth that she never thought would happen. Has her heart always belonged to the same man? The truth may sting and the enemies will take the advantage. Against their enemies and losses, Maleny and Klaus come up with a new promise: they will come back to each other in the end. First, they must save each other.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

The Quarter was having a relatively calm night, as had been the custom for several months now. No one could have ever guessed there had almost been yet another battle among the supernatural. Thankfully, everything had calmed and although there there were still unresolved issues, there was no more threats coming to the Mikaelsons.

Well, perhaps Klaus could think of one but it was no threat to others besides him. He had forgotten how chatty Maleny could be when she learned new things, or when she was simply excited.

"And did you know they made chocolate red!? That is so weird!" Maleny laughed, while flipping through a magazine. "And then I heard about what humans really think vampires are!" she laughed again, "Do you know you're supposed to glitter outside?"

Klaus seemingly paid more attention to the bed covers' edges than her. Maleny was straddled over him, holding a magazine in her hands, and rapidly telling him all she was discovering of the new world. Frankly, that was not what he pictured when he'd suggested they move back to his room earlier in the day.

After a while, Klaus snatched the magazine from her hands, tossing it over the bed. Maleny pouted and gave him a glare, "I was reading that! And you weren't listening!"

"I was, selectively," Klaus said calmly, languidly turning his head to her. He moved up halfway to meet her 'pout' and proved that he was, indeed, listening. "You want to try the red chocolate, you can't believe they put pineapple on pizzas, the fact there's reversible sweaters bewilders you and yes, I did know of that ridiculous glittering rule."

Maleny stared at him a full two minutes before teasingly smiling, "Hmm…" she put her hands over his bare chest, "...all I heard was you watched that Twilight movie."

"I would rather dagger myself than ever watch that," Klaus rolled his eyes, "Humans are idiots."

"So broody," Maleny continued to tease, "How do I make that go away?"

"I have some...suggestions..." Klaus passed a hand down her hair and to her arm.

Maleny chuckled. They had somewhere to be yet they had fooled around for quite some time, and now he was less than half-dressed and she was still in sleeping garments. "While that is mighty tempting, I want to read a little more. Every accomplishment these humans have made is amazing. Is it true there's an actual place in Europe where the streets are full of water? And people have to literally sail on boats to get through?"

Klaus nodded, "Venice is quite beautiful. I suppose you'll have to see for yourself when we visit."

Maleny's eyes lighted up at the insinuation, "We're...we're gonna go? Are you serious?"

"Of course," Klaus reached to run a hand down her loose hair, "I was thinking of a family trip for when Nicolas came home."

"Ooh, I like the idea," Maleny gasped at the idea.

"I thought you would…"

"I do," Maleny grinned, giving him a kiss. One kiss soon turned into a second, which then turned into a third, and suddenly Maleny found herself being flipped over. She now gazed at a smirking hybrid above her, "Don't we have an art exhibit to go to? Your art exhibit?" she innocently questioned.

"It can wait a little while more," Klaus pressed another kiss to her lips, soon turning into dozens more.

~ 0 ~

Amarrah Collins grimly walked alongside Vincent Griffith down a street where police lights were flashing and brightening up the 'do not cross' tape that covered nearly half the street.

The French witch sighed as they grew closer to the crime scene, "Tell me again why it is you decided to call me in?"

"Well," Vincent coughed awkwardly, "to be honest, my first choice was Cami but she's not answering-"

"She wouldn't," Amarrah agreed with a small smile, "She's a bit busy dealing with the matters of this Quarter. Seeing as she's now controlling it, she's got a lot to deal with."

Vincent threw her a playful glare, "Oh, and she's a bigshot now?"

"Hey," Amarrah elbowed him on his side, "she's doing good and you have to acknowledge that."

"True, true," Vincent nodded, "I thought because of her psychology experience she would have some insight on this crime. But you're not so bad, seeing as you were an officer in your days?"

"Detective," Amarrah corrected with a smirk.

"Ooh, maybe you're better than Cami," Vincent shared a chuckle with her. "Now listen, me and all the P.D. have a relationship that goes back to that nastiness with my ex-wife. I'm their expert in anything that even seems occult. And every so often, they come across the aftermath of some black magic and they call me in."

"Hmm, and I'm to assume they've ran into something even you haven't seen yet?"

Amarrah's question was never answered as they turned for an alley where they were greeted by a blonde man, presumably a detective. "Is this your friend the shrink?" he nodded to Amarrah who frowned at such a distasteful greeting.

"Hey, I'm a Detective and you need to learn some manners," she gave him a pointed finger.

Amused, the man smiled, "Detective? From overseas? Well, you should have said so."

"You didn't exactly give me a chance," Amarrah slightly lightened up. "I'm Amarrah Collins."

The man took her hand to shake and introduced himself as well, "Detective Will Kinney. Now, I'm not trying to be rude but I was really hoping the shrink would be here."

"Technically not a shrink," Amarrah clarified, "And she's a bit busy. But I'm pretty good myself with strange cases. What am I doing here?"

"It's an impressionable sight," Will warned as he led Amarrah and Vincent further down the alley.

"Oh believe me when I say I have seen impressionable sights all my life," Amarrah shared a look with Vincent, almost laughing at the irony. However, once they passed a dumpster and saw the corpse, the smile vanished from her face. "Although this would be a first…"

"Maybe now you would consider having your almost-shrink friend looking into this," Will patted her arm before leaving the two.

"Clearly a vampire," Amarrah announced several minutes after the Detective had left.

The victim was a middle-aged man, dressed in a fancy black suit. He had his wrists and elbows held up by ropes, making him seem like a puppet. What had horrified Amarrah was the gruesome, wide slash the man had from ear to ear, still dripping fresh blood.

"Which one, precisely?" Vincent raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, we'll have to figure that out ourselves," Amarrah gulped but could not, for the life of her, take her eyes off the corpse.

While unpleasant, Amarrah found traits she could easily identify from a vampire. She didn't know whether to thank the Mikaelsons for her newfound knowledge of the vampire world or be ashamed of herself for being unfazed with the work before her.

"Well, I'm no forensic psychologist, but whoever did this took their time," she started making conclusions to Vincent, "He bled- a lot- which means he was alive... but it was like he just stood here. These ropes are just for display," she gestured, "He wasn't bound- there are no marks on his wrists, no signs of struggling or clawing…"

"He was compelled," Vincent said what she had been trying to get at, "Maybe Rich-Boy pissed off the wrong vampire."

Detective Kinney came back to join them at the moment and cut off any vampire talk immediately. "How are you guys doing over here? Tell me you got something."

Amarrah quickly came up with a less supernatural conclusion. "It seems methodical. Precise. The wounds might have a special meaning to the killer. Not a formal ritual, but intentional. And, the things we do on purpose, we tend to repeat."

"Well," Kinney looked mildly impressed with her work, "that's not going to bode well for us."

"I'm afraid not," Amarrah agreed with a resigned sigh. She knew the next person they would have to talk to.

~ 0 ~

Now dressed in a white blouse and leather black pants, Maleny strode into the lounge room where Freya was sat on the ground with Hope, attending to her. "You forgot this, Freya," Maleny said, holding a small golden necklace as she joined the two.

"Sorry, I forgot to put it back on her when I took her out of the bath," Freya apologized and moved to handle the matter herself when Maleny waved with a hand she would do it herself.

Maleny pushed her recently curled hair behind her shoulders and got on her knees. "It's fine," she sat back on her legs and gently put the necklace around Hope's neck, "There we go, sweetheart," she kissed the toddler's head. "Now you be sure to show that to your Mummy again, alright?" she raised the necklace's locket and opened it up, revealing a picture of Hayley inside, "Who's that, Hope? Mummy. It's your Mummy."

Freya watched the toddler intently stare at the picture inside the locket. Since breaking Hayley's curse had turned out to be much more difficult than was assumed, Maleny had taken all measures so that Hope never forget who her mother was. The necklace had been a gift from her, and every chance she got she made sure to show the picture of Hayley to Hope.

After a while, Hope looked up from the locket and squealed as she reached for Maleny's golden necklace. Maleny laughed and picked her up, "Excuse you, young lady, I had this one," she pointed to Hope's locket, "bought for you so you could leave mine alone."

Hope paid no more attention as she gripped Maleny's necklace. She babbled to herself instead.

Maleny sighed and looked up at Freya, "Kids…"

Freya knew the word meant millions for the blonde, and especially now considering that Nicolas had made no such appearance nor contact. While Maleny tried to keep strong and simply wait, it was getting more difficult. To say, even Klaus often found himself impatient and broody over the subject. Their patience was slimming and Freya wondered when the couple would reach their breaking point and go in search for Nicolas themselves.

"So, where exactly are you headed?" Freya then asked as an attempt to disway any bad feelings. "If I'm correct Klaus' artwork doesn't open to the public until tomorrow night."

"He says he wants to give me a private tour," Maleny smiled deviously, instantly making Freya raise a hand and stop her.

"Spare me the details or I jump out," she warned. Maleny laughed at the antics but didn't continue.

Elijah walked in at that moment and smiled at the sight of his niece, probably the only thing that managed to make him smile nowadays.

Maleny smiled at him, "You wanted to hold her?"

"No, no, um…" Elijah seemed restless, unable to decide what it was he wanted. In another time, it would have surprised Maleny, but knowing what had happened between him and Cami, it had become a rather usual thing for him.

Freya exchanged a look with Maleny, and partly to help her brother, she offered a distraction, "Were you coming in to make plans for tomorrow? It's the full moon and I assume you want me to go with you?"

"I'd offer myself but…" Maleny made a face, "...I don't think Hayley's quite ready to see me yet. I bet she's still pissed - and with great motives."

Elijah didn't exactly want to agree with her and make her feel worse, so he simply waved a hand and said back, "I thought tomorrow I could just take Hope myself. Give you a night off," he looked at Freya.

"Are you sure you don't deserve a night off?" Freya challenged, "Perhaps several days off...or a week…?"

Elijah looked to the side, aggravated the same thing was being offered to him - take a break from the Quarter. "No, I'm fine, thank you," and with that, he left the room.

Freya shook her head and walked to the couch, plopping down, "Poor brother, he's suffering a lot."

"Yeah, well, he's not the only one," Maleny reminded.

"But it's her fault, you know," Freya shrugged.

"No, it's not. Cami's angry too, and she's hurt. It's gonna be some time before either can move on from what happened."

"If you ask me, I think Cami's doing a lot better than Elijah," Freya gave the blonde a hard look, more inclined to defend her brother. "She's taken the reigns of the city and hasn't remotely directed a word to Elijah, me, or even Klaus. It's like she's trying to forget we exist and frankly I find that rude."

Maleny playfully rolled her eyes, "Oh, Freya, if you knew the Cami I knew, you would see she's barely keeping herself from falling apart."

~ 0 ~

The following morning, the newest leader of the Quarter had gotten up early to train with Marcel at St. Ann's church. The place had been remodeled into a training gym for anyone interested no matter vampire, wolf, witch, human, etc. At the center of the place stood a large cage made of chain-link fence (and reinforced with steel for those tougher visitors). This was where Cami and Marcel currently were, sparring with each other. Marcel was having quite a surprise as Cami nearly managed to get him from one angle. She ultimately pinned him to the fence.

"How's that?" she grinned ecstatically.

Marcel arched an eyebrow, using Cami's momentary distraction to turn the tables over and pin her to the wall. "Now I told you, don't get cocky," he laughed and released the blonde from his neck hold.

Cami rolled her eyes but smiled anyways, "My bad."

"But you are getting far better," Marcel praised sincerely after a minute, "You've improved over these months and I'm proud of you. You'd be quite the challenge in a real fight."

Cami light heartedly nodded her thanks. Although she hadn't explicitly told Marcel the reason for her endeavoring to train harder, he had already made the assumption it was to make sure no one would ever so easily snap her neck anymore - no one would ever break her again.

"Although," Marcel's voice pulled Cami from her thoughts, "if you do get into a fight, you'd have a hell of a backup with the guys," he nodded over to the other vampires working out in the room.

Cami rolled her eyes, "They're not an army. And I wish you'd stop calling them that," she laughed, "One of these days they'll take it seriously."

"C'mon, just a little joke between a previous city holder to the new one," Marcel nudged her, both sharing another laugh.

"You could have been with me, both of us looking after the Quarter," Cami sobered up and warmly looked at her friend, "And the offer still stands, you know. I don't know much about politics and you definitely know how to keep things in order."

Marcel shook his head, patting Cami on the arm. "It's better this way. If I were to take back the Quarter, sooner or later Klaus would endeavor to take the crown again. There's just too much tension boiling. At least with you, we know Klaus wouldn't, and couldn't, hurt you even if he wanted to."

Cami chuckled lightly, shaking her head disappointingly. She had kept her words to Amarrah and done what she could to help more people out. After officially quitting school, she kept the long-ago promise she made Elijah and took her place at the factions meetings. Although it was tough to convince the other faction leaders, which now also included Davina (being Regent of the witch covens), agreed to let her lead the city in a peaceful manner, both for humans and vampires. Because of her, the Quarter had had many months of peace.

That wasn't to say she had much peace, however.

"Cami?" Amarrah called as soon as she and Vincent came into the place. Cami nodded and walked out of the fighting ring, along with Marcel, and headed to the two mortals. "We have a problem," Amarrah announced while Vincent pulled out his cellphone. "Last night there was a murder and we're pretty sure it was a vampire."

"Or vampires," Vincent made sure to add in. He handed the phone now showing the pictures of victim, which Cami took and began to swipe through as she and Marcel studied the injuries.

"Gnarly stuff," Marcel sighed, already beginning to assume who could have done the murder.

"Yeah, the guy was torn apart," Amarrah shook her head, "I mean, there are no obvious puncture wounds, but whoever did that had to be a vampire. And nobody heard any screams, so he had to have been compelled to just stand there and suffer."

"Since when are you into this stuff?" Cami raised an eyebrow, curiously looking between the two.

"I'm a Detective, remember?" Amarrah laughed, "They were looking for you but got me instead."

Marcel stuck to the subject more seriously and handed back the phone to Vincent, " You think this was us? The guys know better than to leave a body in the streets."

Vincent didn't seem to buy it as he gestured to the other vampires in the room, "How well do you know your guys?"

"It doesn't make sense for us to leave dead bodies on the streets," Cami cut in, "That would eventually get into the headlines which would make tourism drop. We don't mess with our food supply, Vincent."

"Maybe someone new lost control?" Amarrah offered an alternative that could very well be plausible.

"Maybe you guys should consider that our guys aren't the only vampires in town."

Amarrah then frowned, even Cami understanding the implication, "You don't think this was work from the Mikaelsons?"

"They're a hot mess whether they want to admit it or not," Marcel put his hands in a neutral manner, "Klaus has 'patiently' been waiting for the arrival of his long lost son who still hasn't even made contacts. And Elijah…" Marcel cast a sideways glance to the blonde vampire beside him, who was already shifting awkwardly, "...kinda had trouble of his own," he left it at that out of consideration for Cami. "Pick one."

"They wouldn't," Amarrah declared, far more sure than the other three with them. Frankly, she was surprised Cami could believe that.

"Listen, I know you all like to think Maleny can control Klaus but the truth is sooner or later he'll cut loose because that's just who he is," Marcel shrugged, not sorry to say the utter truth - at least his view on it anyways. "This is some wicked fairy tale you all like to think, but if you want a real suspect go to the compound."

As Marcel turned to leave, Amarrah mumbled a couple words to Vincent and he walked out as well. Afterwards, Amarrah sharply looked at Cami, seriously asking, "You don't actually think Elijah could do this right?"

Shifting to her side, Cami quietly answered, "I don't know."

The answer didn't seem to please Amarrah, in fact it almost made her angry. "You're not gonna let these feelings cloud your mind are you? It wouldn't be fair."

"Oh none of this is fair," Cami waved a hand at the witch, "I'm only saying that maybe, for a moment, one of them lost control. I'm not accusing them, it's just an idea."

"You're such a liar," Amarrah rolled her eyes, "I'll let you know what else I come up with Vincent. And don't worry, I won't tell Mal any of this nonsense you and Marcel just uttered."

Cami playfully rolled her eyes and waved goodbye to the French witch, choosing to forget the moment they had just passed through. That was what she tended to do nowadays anyways when it came to the Mikaelsons - forget and move on.

~ 0 ~

"Oooh, I like your dress, Miss Mikaelson," Maleny laughed as Freya quickly looked down to her going-out dress as if she'd forgotten what she'd put on.

The two blondes were in the courtyard, Maleny coming down from the stairs, while Freya looked into her bag for her last things before going out.

"You clean up nice yourself, Miss Rowan," Freya winked.

"I don't know, is this what you wear to an art exhibit?" Maleny chuckled sheepishly as she looked down at herself, truthfully unsure. She had opted for a tight dark blue dress that reached above her knees with an open black jacket over it.

"Don't know, but it goes great at a party," Freya nudged her with a smirk, "You said you'd come with me the next time I went to one."

"Ooh, I did say that, huh?" Maleny made a face, clearly remembering the promise she made to Freya after having to decline the same type of offer in favor of a dinner with Cami and Amarrah.

"Get away from my date, Freya," Klaus warned as he approached the two blondes from the downstairs corridors. "She's already said 'yes' to me a long while ago."

"Also true," Maleny pointed to him in thought, "Oh dear…"

"Lighten up," Freya momentarily frowned, "She can come to my party first and then go to your exhibit."

"Or," Klaus gave her a smirk, as they probably assumed what he would say next, "she could go to the exhibit...and stay there."

"She said yes to me before she said 'yes' to you!"

"Okay then," Maleny cut in between the two siblings, holding her arms out to keep the two from continuing arguing, "How about I go to Freya first, party a little, and then I meet you at your exhibit and stay there for as long as you like?"

"Maleny," Klaus tilted his head, his tone implying he wasn't quite agreeing with her.

Maleny turned to Klaus, languidly draping her arms over his shoulders, "Oh c'mon, your sister doesn't know the city as much as I do. I'm there, one hour, two hours and then I switch venues...where I will be all yours."

"Oh, brother," Freya muttered under her breath, almost gagging at the sight.

"Using your charms will one day fail you," Klaus warned her while pushing back a strand of her hair.

"I doubt it," Maleny cheekily grinned, "I learned it from the Mikaelsons - among other things."

"You're almost one of us," Freya spoke up behind them, over her gagging moment and now smiling at the two. "You know...except for that big 'Rowan' at the end of your name."

Maleny blushed and removed one hand from Klaus to stand sideways and glance at Freya, "Well, it is my name," she said quietly, twiddling with one of her blonde curls, blushing fiercer as she felt Freya smirking wider at her.

"You could always change it," Klaus casually said, misunderstanding the implication his sister was trying to give him.

Maleny let her curl drop and lightly sighed, "I guess…" her tone went slightly sour, and disappointed. It's not that she expected something grand for her to truly become a Mikaelson, but she did want a little something more than just 'you could always change it'. Feeling a little more disappointed suddenly, she looked at the two siblings, "I forgot my purse upstairs."

Freya watched the blonde take her sudden leave with almost a sense of amusement. She waited until Maleny was completely gone before teasing her younger brother. "For a man that's lived a thousand years, you sure are clueless."

Klaus arched an eyebrow at the woman, displeased at the insult, "Come again? What, pray tell, have I apparently done this time?"

Freya laughed and stepped towards him, "You really didn't see how disillusioned Mal was after you so poorly suggested she just 'change her name' like it was a piece of paper."

"But...it is," Klaus said slowly, still not understanding the problem, "In fact, with us, it's only a matter of changing how you introduce yourself. There's no need for legal matters."

Freya rolled her eyes, wondering if this was what it was to have brothers. Were they supposed to be clueless? Well, she already had to tend to a clueless Elijah who would simply not admit his true feelings for, and directly to, Cami. And now she had to deal with Klaus, who so stupidly did not see what it was Maleny actually wanted. She supposed with Klaus, it was a little easier considering the two were actually together and in full knowledge of what they felt for each other. It was just pointing out the delicate details that needed to be resolved.

"Let me ask you some simple questions, alright?" she began calmly, "Have you ever pictured anything else for you and Maleny?"

Although Klaus couldn't see what she was trying to get at, he went along with her questions. "'Anything else'," he mimicked her tone, "was simply a child," he smirked triumphantly, "And as we all know, that's been resolved."

Freya upheld her calm look despite it looking like she was losing. "And...beyond that?"

"What else is there, Freya?"

"How about the 'forever' part? The part where Maleny is turned so the 'always and forever' can actually be 'always and forever'?"

The question immediately put Klaus in a mood, "That is none of your business," he declared and made to leave...but Freya wasn't having it.

"So that's your plan, then? Ignore the inevitable truth until Maleny has aged and is no longer that youthful blonde you're so used to?" Klaus stopped walking, but kept his back to her. "Maleny is mortal again, brother, and by nature's law she will age," Freya continued, "Do you intend to leave her like that? Bury her down at the graveya—"

"ENOUGH!" Klaus boomed and turned back for his sister, stalking up to her, "You will desist in any of that sort of talk...especially when Maleny is around."

Freya sighed, completely unalarmed despite having provoked a great rage in her brother. "Don't be upset because I'm calling in the truth. And that was all just to make a point."

"I'm not interested in your point," Klaus scoffed.

"My point was trying to get you to see how disappointed Mal was when you so poorly told her to just change names because she expected more."

"Like?"

"Oh my God," Freya had a small laugh to herself, "Do I have to go buy the ring myself and ask her to marry me instead?" The realization struck Klaus, and hard, and for a minute he was left frozen in his place. Freya laughed again, patting his shoulder, "There we go, brother. Ponder on that, will you?" she looked past him to the stairs, where Maleny was quietly making her way down. "Looks like my date's here—Mal!"

"I'm ready," Maleny assured as Freya walked towards her. "Klaus, I'll be there in about an hour and a half," she called to the hybrid, but he simply waved a hand at her while still overthinking on Freya's "point". Maleny gave him an odd look as Freya led her out, "What's gotten into him?"

Freya snickered, "Some words."

~ 0 ~

Cami walked into her place and flicked the lights on, sighing at the large mess of boxes she still had lying around, but soon got over it upon seeing Amarrah inside. "Uh...hello!?" Cami blinked, shutting the door behind her.

"Hello," Amarrah was sitting on the couch looking through a police file of the same victim she had come to Cami for information on. She looked up with a cheery smile, "I sent Vincent home, thought you could help me better instead. You want a drink?" she got up and walked for the kitchen.

Cami continued to cluelessly blink, remaining in place, "Um...what exactly are you doing here?"

"Looking for more information on the murder case, clearly," Amarrah returned with two glasses of bourbon.

"Why, exactly, are you here?" Cami raised an eyebrow, blankly taking the drink from her once it was handed. "Not to be rude, but...why?"

"Because I thought we could work on it together," Amarrah shrugged and returned to her seat on the couch. She opened up another file and slid to the edge of the table, where Cami was. "I thought you could help me out on the vampire details."

Cami sighed and finally walked over, picking up a paper and skimming it, "I don't know what I can do, Ams. You're the Detective, here."

"Yes, and you're the vampire here. Do you see how we can make the perfect team?" Amarrah tilted her head, giving the blonde a look.

"Alright, fine," Cami put her glass down on the table, "but I still think it's worth asking Maleny about this."

"Absolutely not," Amarrah shook her head as she returned to her work, "I just don't think Klaus or Elijah did this. They've got no reason to do so."

"I still think you should at least talk to them," Cami persisted, leaning back on the couch, "At least give them a chance to tell you if they did it so you quit doing unnecessary work."

Amarrah sighed, finally relenting, "Alright, fine. We can go—"

"Oh n-n-n-n-n-n-no," Cami shook her head and began getting up from the couch, completely refusing the idea, "I am not going anywhere near that compound-"

Amarrah rolled her eyes, "We can ask Maleny and Klaus, they're probably at the art exhibit going on tonight. Plus, I know for a fact Elijah's in the bayou."

Cami narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms in suspicion, "How?"

"Because it's a full moon tonight," Amarrah sighed, thus relieving Cami, as well as also reminding them both of their guilt for still being unable to help Hayley and their closer wolf friends, Alton and Yamilet. "So," she pushed herself up to her feet, "Now you want to come with me?"

"Yes," Cami said, still acting like she was being asked far too much.

~ 0 ~

At St. James Infirmary, the setting for the art exhibit, Klaus had been impatiently waiting for Maleny to finally make an appearance. Two hours had passed and yet there was no sign of the blonde. However, he did get a rather surprising visit instead from an old "friend", Lucien Castle, whom he hadn't seen in over a thousand years. His impatience of Maleny subsided mildly after a couple of drinks with Lucien.

In the end, a blonde did make an appearance...along with a French dark-haired woman.

"Give me a moment," Klaus motioned to Lucien as he got up from their table and went to greet the two women, "To what do I owe this visit?" he smirked, "Mal's not here and I doubt Elijah will be making an appearance."

Cami deeply sighed in irritation, "I'm here on business," she snapped, "And I intend on making it short before you make another round of jokes like you commonly do."

Klaus rolled his eyes, "What do you want?"

Amarrah cleared her throat, "Someone tortured and killed a local. Left the body right out in the open. I think it was a vampire."

"Last time I heard vampire business was now your department," Klaus pointed to the blonde, "Don't bother me."

Cami was near losing her temper with him, "We need to know if it was you or Elijah that did it so Amarrah knows what to tell the cops."

The accusation was surprising but caused far more amusement to Klaus than anger, "You think I left a sloppy mess out in the street? You have confused me for a simpleton, clearly. And as for Elijah, don't bother. He rarely goes out nowadays."

"We're being serious, Klaus," Amarrah gave him a scolding look, "The victim was found like like a-"

But Klaus had lost interest in the conversation and turned to walk away from the two. The only reason he stopped midway was because of the familiar scent that had wafted in from the entrance. Maleny straightened herself up and walked further into the room, but was stopped as Amarrah and Cami passed by.

"You need to teach your boyfriend some manners," Cami snapped, making Maleny rapidly blink, barely able to process when Amarrah added something as well.

"Look, Mal, we really need you guys to look into the latest of murder victims," she pleaded, "I'll send you the file later."

"Wh-what?" Maleny uttered after the two women had left. Slowly, she continued walking and met Klaus with a questioning, yet not completely 'there' look, "Do I want to know?"

"No," Klaus shook his head, quickly instigating her to smile. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, he smelt traces of alcohol on her. "Why exactly were you late?"

The grin on Maleny's face widened as she giggled, "I may have...tried some drinks…" she tilted her head to the side, catching view behind him. "Why exactly is that guy looking at me like I'm his next course meal?"

Klaus glanced over his shoulder, following Maleny's gaze to Lucien who was sitting and smirking their way. "Dinner, snack…" he even said to joke, "...appetizer?"

"Klaus," Maleny said, rather shaken up at the man's bluntness.

"He's merely joking, love," Klaus started leading her towards the table, "Although you probably would feel less scared if you hadn't had too much to drink."

"It was a party, what did you think was gonna happen?" Maleny rolled her eyes, "I was being a good friend to Freya who didn't want to drink alone. And don't start with me. Who's your friend?"

"Old acquaintance. Nothing more," Klaus said quietly, a hint of reluctance in his tone that Maleny didn't pick up on.

"Old acquaintance?"" Lucien frowned, feigning offence, "You wound me!"

They came to a stop at the table where Lucien had already gotten up to greet the blonde. She stared him up and down for a minute, "You're kinda cute," she remarked, earning quite a response from both men.

"Ooh, I definitely like your friend, Nik," Lucien laughed while Klaus tried not kill him there and then.

"She's not my 'friend'-" Klaus began when Lucien cut him off.

"Even better," he made one step closer to Maleny but Klaus immediately blocked the way with himself.

"She's not my 'friend', she's mine," Klaus finished with an air of triumph.

Maleny tapped his shoulder, making him look back, "I'm not property you know," she said calmly, the amount of drinks clouding her real emotions. "I do have thoughts and feelings."

"Yes, and at the moment I fear they aren't at their best," Klaus gently motioned her to come forwards.

"They are," Maleny insisted and took a deep breath and started over again. "What was your name again?" she asked Lucien.

"Lucien Castle," the old vampire took her hand and kissed it.

The blonde smiled at him warmly, and as she looked at him she began getting brief flashes of...a hallway?

...My lady, why are you crying?…

…No reason, simple...family issues…

...Absolutely no one should make you shed tears...

Maleny crinkled her nose as a familiar painful jab took over the side of her head. "Oh," she came back with a gasp. She had been sat down at the table, and had both men attending to her as if she were dying. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, still feeling rather hazed, "I don't know what happened…"

"I do, you had too much drink," Klaus frowned, already thinking of berating Freya when he saw her again.

Maleny briefly looked at him for the comment and instead focused on what she had saw and heard in her mind. She knew exactly what they were, or at least what had seemed to happen. She would never forget that type of head pain. It was a memory that had tried to resurface. The scenery was completely new to her, as well as her new persona. Things went by so fast she couldn't understand it. She supposed now that it had tried to come back, it probably would be making another attempt soon. The only thing that concerned her was if it was normal for the pain to still come with them, as this was her original body, her own mind.

"Mal," Klaus' voice brought her back to the present. He was holding her hand, trying to see if she was in yet another trance. "Mal, are you alright?"

Maleny kindly smiled, "I'm always alright. Whatever it was, it passed. However, I do think I should see what had Amarrah and Cami so concerned. It seems like you already found yourself a drinking buddy…" she glanced at Lucien, "...and I definitely wouldn't want to crash a guy's night, so maybe it's best I take my leave."

"By all means, do stay if you'd like," Lucien smirked at her.

"Lucien!" Klaus snapped, making the other vampire raise his hands in a non-threatening way.

"I was being polite!"

Maleny chuckled and got up with ease, "So it's settled. Although," she walked up to Lucien, "You seem like the typical rich vampire guy that knows how to have fun…"

Lucien nodded with great pride, "Well…"

Maleny suddenly turned serious, "Keep your little girlfriends off him," she pointed back to Klaus, "or I will personally drive a stake right through this heart," she tapped Lucien's chest with a wide, sarcastic smile, "Got it?"

"Very feisty for an apparent mortal," Lucien remarked in amusement.

"I look out for what's mine," Maleny calmly declared and stepped back to where Klaus was, now addressing him, "And if you let those hands get on you, I'll kill you. And when you come back, I'll kill you again."

"Understood," Klaus smirked at her, "Ma'am."

Maleny rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up," she grabbed her purse from the table and walked off.

"Where'd you pick that one up?" Lucien curiously asked as the two watched the blonde leave, "She's certainly no where near like the psychopath you had during our time."

The reminder provoked a tensed silence to break between the two men. In all the centuries, Klaus hadn't once thought about the redhead and he wasn't going to have any details of that time be told near Maleny. However, now that Maleny was gone, his curiosity was able to get the best of him.

"Have you spoken to her?" he quietly asked Lucien.

A grim, distasteful look spread over Lucien's face, "Aurora and I parted ways centuries ago - thankfully. You know I never had desire to see her after what she did to Cecilia."

"Yes," Klaus nodded, recalling the event that had occurred right before his family was forced to run from Mikael again. "The tragedy…"

"It wasn't a tragedy!" Lucien snapped and turned on him, suddenly angry, "It was murder. Aurora killed her out of spite, and ruined—"

"Lucien!" Klaus raised his voice, stopping the vampire midway in his passionate fury, "It's done," Klaus said quietly, not as indifferent as he might have been had he not discovered Maleny had also gone through similar cases.

Still heavily feeling, Lucien snatched his drink from the table and headed for the bar for more, grumbling under his breath.

1002 A.D. France.

Keeping his promise that would save his life, the servant Lucien had introduced the Mikaelson siblings to his master, the Count de Martel, under the name of the real family he had been sent for (but had been killed in a feeding spree by the vampires). He hadn't been sure how the event would go down, for the Count was smart and would be suspicious of the children of the Count de Guise whom had never been mentioned. Thankfully, with his instructions, the Mikaelsons had successfully charmed the Count de Martel and were now taking joy of the party the castle was holding.

Now, as his status only allowed, Lucien stood at the side of the room simply looking at the ongoing celebration when Klaus approached him.

"You've proven to be an immense help," he remarked to the servant, meaning it to be as close to a 'thank you' as it could get.

"Oh. Of course, my lord," Lucien replied, rather bashfully.

"Though, I must say, you don't seem at all disturbed about leading us into your master's home."

Lucien sighed and glanced at Count de Martel, "My master is a cruel drunkard who torments his minions for sport. Beggars who seek supper. Vassals who cannot pay a debt... like my own father."

Klaus nodded with understanding, "Ah," following the glare sent to the Count.

Lucien continued with sudden anger, "All these gentile folk, behind their silks and their jewels, are slavers. Killers. Whatever evil you are, you walk among greater evil still. What do I care if you kill the lot of them?"

But then laughter carried over, grabbing both of the men's attention. It belonged to a dark-haired woman who had taken to a rather odd dance with another young man. And it was as if Lucien had never been angry in the first place.

"Who is that?" Klaus asked, curiously.

"The Count's niece - Lady Cecilia," Lucien replied, never taking his eyes off the dark-haired woman, "Her parents passed away years ago and the Count took her under his protection with his children."

"Children?" Klaus repeated, now more interested in the story.

Lucien nodded and gestured to the incoming young man and woman on the other side of the room. "The Count's children- the Lord Tristan and the Lady Aurora."

Klaus suddenly became more interested in the bright redhead Aurora, "She is exquisite."

"Ah, yes," Lucien agreed carelessly, "Um, as her brother is wicked, might I suggest that you avoid them completely?"

Klaus followed the steps the redhead took, "But would she really be a threat, even to one like me?"

"She is an intelligent one, do not doubt it," Lucien warned, but it went over Klaus' head as he became more entranced by the strange woman.

At a club heavily packed with all sorts of people, Freya was dancing with some new women she had met after Maleny left. She had to stop dancing, however, after her cellphone went off. She covered one ear to listen to Elijah on the other line.

"Hello?"

"Did I misinterpret the kind of exhibition you're attending?" Elijah asked, sounding bemused by the loud music he could hear in the background.

"I switched venues!" Freya chuckled.

"Forgive me for cutting into your free night, Freya, but I am in desperate need of help," Elijah said, sounding equally frantic which made Freya rush to the outsides where she would be able to hear better.

"What's wrong, Elijah?" Freya asked, concerned.

"There are hunters in the bayou and I fear Hayley has fallen into one of their traps…"

Freya's eyes widened, "Oh, dear…"

"I need to search the bayou but I cannot do it on my own. Plus, someone needs to look after Hope."

Freya nodded in understanding, suddenly getting an idea of just who could help him scour the bayou for missing wolves. "Okay, I'll be there - I have an idea."

~ 0 ~

The art show was over, and while the people had left, Klaus and Lucien remained inside, both still drinking yet Lucien still in a foul mood from the earlier reminder. Frankly over it, and partially wanting to get back to Maleny and see how she was doing, Klaus approached Lucien and got straight to the point.

"Lucien- what are you really doing in my city?"

Lucien sighed and turned to him, "News has spread, old friend. Every vampire in the world knows you've been attacked. A number of times, nearly killed."

Klaus rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the matter, "Oh, well, I can assure you that all those who stood against me ended up either desiccated, dust, or dinner."

Lucien lightly laughed, though still seemed unusually nervous, "Yes, but... what if it had gone the other way, hmm? When Finn was killed, we all learned the truth- the life of every vampire is linked back to the Original who begat the line. Kol's death confirmed it. Two entire lines of vampires wiped out! As you can imagine, the threat level doesn't sit well with those of us who remain."

"Anyone fearing death as a result of my demise should come see me!" Klaus sarcastically smiled, "I'll be happy to reassure them."

"Of course. You and your siblings are mighty, indeed. Though, the attacks on you show that you are not completely invulnerable," Lucien continued, "While you've wallowed in your family affairs, your progeny have grown somewhat... restless. The world is a finite place, territory limited. And even ancient vampires are not above vicious turf-wars. What if I told you there's a growing conflict between the remaining three sirelines? Suppose one of them wanted to annihilate the other? By killing Elijah? Rebekah? You?"

Although the idea was rather unsettling, Klaus easily hid it, "So, you came all this way to deliver a warning?"

"Think about it! Kill an Original, wipe out an entire line of competition! A tempting goal, made more so by the fact that your family isn't so intact with each other."

"My family is hardly weak!" Klaus snapped, coming closer to Lucien so that they were face-to-face. "In fact, we are unkillable- the last of the white oak is gone."

Lucien narrowed his eyes skeptically, "Are you so certain it's all gone? Every last splinter of it? Vanished for good?"

Klaus responded by grabbing him from the back of the neck, harshly squeezing it, "Lucien, if you had even the slightest inkling any fragment of white oak still existed, of course you would tell me."

"Easy, Nik," Lucien cleared his throat as he removed Klaus' hand from his neck. "You are my sire. My fate is linked to yours," he reminded the crucial detail, "If you want to know what I do about the dangers you now face, trust me enough to come with me. There is something that you must see."

"I have other places to be at," Klaus stepped back from him, highly suspicious.

"I assure you want to see this," Lucien insisted, motioning to Klaus for them to leave. "It spells your family's ending, and I think that little blonde of yours wouldn't be so happy."

Klaus sighed, once again caving to something that, one way or another, led back to Maleny.

~ 0 ~

Out in the bayou, Elijah was impatiently sitting at the front porch of the cabin with Hope in her stroller, the setting being meant to have been a Crescent wolf reunion due to the full moon. However now it was going to be a life saving night, or at least trying to find Hayley. Suddenly, Freya appeared a couple feet away from him and Hope...but she was not alone.

"Camille," Elijah breathed in as he rose to his feet, awed to have Cami so close after so many months.

Cami looked to the side, clearly uncomfortable being there. "Freya said there were wolf traps out here and you can't find Hayley?"

"Yes," Elijah nodded.

"I'm here for her, Alton and Yamilet," Cami clarified, watching Freya walk to the stroller. "Otherwise, Freya would have had to poison me to get me here. Shall we get going?" she gestured to the trees behind her.

Elijah nodded silently, and soon the two sped off to begin their hunting tasks. Freya sat down on the steps and turned Hope's stroller so that she could see the baby.

"Hello, sweetie," she smiled softly at the almost asleep toddler. "You'll have to excuse your Auntie Freya, I've had a few big-girl drinks tonight."

Hope stretched her small arms over her head as her eyes slowly closed, falling asleep there and then. Freya sighed and looked out to the dark bayou, hoping that all turned out well for the missing Crescent wolves.

~ 0 ~

Amarrah walked into the lonely Mikaelson compound where after shouting for Maleny a couple of times in the courtyard, she was promptly scolded by the blonde witch.

"There is no need to shout," Maleny appeared from one of the downstairs room, holding a cup of coffee in hand.

"You look plain awful," Amarrah declared after a minute and Maleny came to sit down at the couch.

"And it's not from the special drinks I tried tonight, I promise," Maleny sighed and leaned back on the couch, rubbing her temple. "What's wrong, Ams? And where's Cami?"

"Oh, Freya stopped by and said Elijah needed her help in the bayou," Amarrah decided to cut the explanation short.

Maleny raised an eyebrow, looking surprised, "And Cami just said 'yes'?"

"It was urgent," Amarrah coughed awkwardly, hoping Maleny would leave the subject alone.

"Well, did you need something?" Maleny, thankfully, moved on. "I know Klaus was a bit rude to you guys earlier. What exactly were you talking about with him?"

"There's murder case going on and I'm pretty sure it was from a vampire. The guy was compelled not to scream or call for help. He was left hanging like a puppet on strings with his face cut."

"That's awful," Maleny scowled at the idea, "but why come to Klaus? He's not exactly in charge anymore."

"We just wanted to know if he or Elijah had cut loose or something and..." Amarrah motioned what the others has suspected.

"What!?" Maleny leaned forwards, looking indignant of the accusation. "You think Klaus or Elijah did that? Why the hell would they leave the guy out for everyone to see? Plus," she shook her head, "they wouldn't do that. Elijah's refined, sophisticated, it's not like him to be so messy. He barely leaves the place anymore, anyways. And I know Klaus wouldn't do that either. It's not exactly his forte to leave his victims like a doll. It's not them, Ams."

Amarrah sighed, but before she could say she agreed, her phone rang. She pulled it out from her bag and saw it was from the Detective and answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Kinney. Wanted to let you know you were right."

Amarrah gulped, "Oh...really?"

"It happened again. So, if you're not busy, I could use your brain."

"Yeah, of course," Amarrah nodded and hung up. Maleny was staring at her, expecting an explanation. Amarrah thought for a minute and decided she should see for herself what was happening. "Can you come with me somewhere?"

"Just as long as there's no more alcohol," Maleny sipped one last time from her coffee cup and got up, straightening her blouse. After getting home she had changed into more comfortable lounge clothes, consisting of a simple blue blouse with dark jeans and boots.

"I promise you there will be none of that," Amarrah mumbled and grabbed Maleny by the arm to lead her away.

~ 0 ~

Cami and Elijah came to a stop in a small clearing in the woods after seeing a steel-jawed animal trap meant for the wolves. Heavily annoyed, Elijah walked for it and began to break it apart as loudly as possible to get the responsible hunters out into the open. After a few seconds, he heard the clicking of a gun behind.

"What the hell are you doing?" the hunter demanded.

Cami and Elijah exchanged a look before Elijah stepped forwards,feigning innocence, "Oh my goodness, where are my manners? Permit me to explain-"

But he quickly sped up to the hunter and snatched his gun before throwing him to the ground.

"Elijah!" Cami turned just as a second hunter appeared.

Elijah used the gun from the first hunter and threw it at the second like it were a javelin, causing the barrel of the gun to impale the chest. Afterwards, he took the first hunter, who'd been trying to crawl away, by the back of the shirt and put him down to the ground.

"Lesson one of the hunt: Lay the bait," he slammed the hunter's foot into another of the traps, making it clamp down on the ankle.

Elijah remained unfazed and merely stepped back, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. Cami, who'd been only standing so far, roughly swallowed down as Elijah met her stare. She felt a chill run down her back as he stepped towards her. She would never admit it to anyone else, and after admitting it to herself she would try and push the thought away, but she felt so attracted to him at that moment.

The only thing that broke her from her embarrassing thoughts were the three laser sights pointing at Elijah.

Cami whirled around to the direction from which they were coming from. "Lesson two," she mumbled and sped off, leaving Elijah to follow.

It didn't take long for them to corner the remaining hunter in another part of the woods. Being closer, Cami grabbed the man by the neck and raised him, angrily glaring.

"You're gonna give me the precise location of every last one of those stupid traps," she warned him, "And we also want the routes used by any of your other men."

"I-I don't know-" the man barely got to say when a different person, a woman, appeared out of nowhere and lunged for him.

Cami stumbled back from such force as the man was tackled out of her grip. The woman clawed and clawed until the man was dead. For a minute, Cami and Elijah could only stare as the man was marred to death. When it was all done, the woman rose to her feet, and with nothing on, she revealed she was a Crescent wolf.

"Yamilet…" Cami breathed in, both relieved and terrified of the woman's conditions.

"Good to see you, blondie," Yamilet greeted with her usual sourness. "I have a question and I expect to be answered with the utmost truth: Where. Is. Alton.?"

"We...we don't know," Elijah replied, currently looking to the side out of embarrassment and courtesy.

Yamilet wad too preoccupied with her missing boyfriend to care who saw her or who didn't. "There's traps set all over this place!" she gritted her teeth, more furious than ever, "If I don't find Alton rest assured this time I will come after all you Mikaelsons with all I have."

Cami cleared her throat and looked down, "We'll find him, we promise."

Yamilet rolled her eyes, no longer so trusting of them all. "Sure," she sneered, "Right after you break this curse, right? Spare me the crap and let me follow the scent of the remaining hunters, no?" she started picking at the hunters shirt, intending on using it as a makeshift dress until she found proper clothes.

Afterwards, she joined the hunting and followed the scent of the remaining hunters - who all died soon after - and came across a truck. Immediately, Yamilet felt her stomach churn as an awful smell penetrated the air.

Elijah went towards it, hesitating a minute to pull the tarp covering the back. But in the end, he chucked it back, and revealed at least half a dozen dead werewolves.

"Oh my God!" Cami exclaimed, horrified at the sight. She and Yamilet rushed towards it, but in the end only Yamilet dared to touch them.

Yamilet began hyperventilating at the idea that one of those wolves could be Alton. Her hands shook as she reached towards her companions, her eyes watering up.

"Alton? Alton!" she whisper-shouted as if someone would respond back.

Behind her, the feeling of overwhelm started washing over Cami and Elijah. Neither of them knew if Hayley was in there as well, and it just terrified them to their core that they were perhaps too late to help them.

Without taking notice, Cami inched closer to Elijah, close to tears herself. Elijah put an arm around her, bringing her to him, but both were too distraught to remember their situation.

~ 0 ~

Maleny was not one to feel comfortable around police crime scenes. She would never understand how Amarrah once decided to willingly do this for a living.

"Detective," Amarrah came up to the blonde man with Maleny coming in a couple seconds behind. "Oh, um, this is my friend," Amarrah gestured to the blonde witch, "She knows a thing or two about these odd cases."

"I do?" Maleny blinked, looking at Amarrah in confusion.

"Detective Will Kinney," the man shook her hand nonetheless.

"Maleny Rowan," she politely said back, feeling awkward in such a different setting. "So, Ams said you found another victim?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Kinney sighed, looking at Amarrah, "And in the same type of position as the first one."

Amarrah nodded and so Kinney began leading the way to where the victim was. "Of the same background as well?" Amarrah questioned curiously.

"Yes, high status," Kinney nodded, turning for another alleyway. This time the victim was just at the corner. It was another man, dressed in a rich suit, and was propped like a puppet.

As soon as Maleny saw it she became horrified. But no less than a second did she began to feel that annoying jab on the side of her head. For a minute, Maleny felt the world around her fade away as two voices in her head became prominent.

...this is sick torture, Tristan…

...as the son of the Count, I do punishments as I see fit….

...it is immoral, inhumane…

...yet you allowed far more immoral things to continue...

After Kinney had left, Amarrah finally took notice of the distant look on Maleny's face. Concerned, she gently shook Maleny by the arm. "Mal? Are you okay?" Maleny snapped out of it quickly but it still took her a moment to remember where she was. "Maleny, what is it?"

Maleny slowly laid eyes on the victim again, her horror and shock replaced by confusion, and...familiarity. "I think...I think I've seen this before," she whispered with nothing but utter dread.

~ 0 ~

Hayley was angrily screaming and pounding against an invisible barrier Davina Claire had trapped her in. It was beyond ridiculous, and infuriating, to be trapped by a witch on the only night she could see Hope.

Davina returned to the room completely at ease, holding clothes in her arms along with other supplies.

"Davina, let me out of here right now, or I swear I will kill you!" Hayley shouted at the teen but it was of no use.

"You can try," she sarcastically motioned, "Or, we can have a polite conversation."

Hayley was in no mood to 'converse', not tonight at least. "You magically kidnapped me on the one night that I can see my daughter. Do not talk to me about "polite!""

Beginning to grow frustrated, Davina rose her voice, "I drew you here to help you!"

"Amarrah and Maleny asked you months ago to help them break the curse, and you said no!"

Davina looked to the side, trying to hide her guilt, "The Regent of witches can't be seen doing favors for the Mikaelsons."

And though Maleny wasn't technically one, she was already branded as one of them. Since she their fallout of bringing Esther Mikaelson back to life, Davina didn't exactly want to do anything for Maleny and her...people. She was still upset with Maleny for having played that foul trick that cost her Kol's resurrection. But now the tables had turned, and she was in need of assistance...just not from Maleny this time.

"But, maybe we can help each other," she looked at Hayley sternly as she tossed a blood bag through the invisible barrier. Hayley threw her a dirty look but feeling the ravenous hunger inside, she dropped to her knees and started drinking from the bag. Look, I have access to the witch ancestors. I can channel the power of the one who created the spell that cursed you. You can be free, Hayley."

Hayley licked the blood that had gotten on her fingers, and slowly rose to her feet. " Under your terms, I'm guessing." Davina sighed, guiltily looking down, but Hayley saw an opportunity she wasn't going to waste. "Spill."

"There's a witch in the 9th Ward who hates that I'm Regent. She tried to kill me. If I retaliate, I'm starting a civil war, and I don't want to do that."

"Fine," Hayley said without a second thought. "Just tell me who you want dead."

~ 0 ~

After finding another wolf turned human - Jackson - who was injured due to a trap, Elijah had them all return to the cabin. It was there that Cami made her choice to leave, as there was the special hour coming up and she needed to be back in the city to oversee 'feeding time'.

"You can't go," Yamilet said, her no voice no longer sour. She was extremely shaken up by the sight of dead wolves, and the fact Alton was still no where in sight wasn't helping her. "You need to help me." She glanced back at Elijah who was tending to the injury on Jackson's leg. "They won't help me," she shook her head, knowing their main priority was going to be Hayley.

Cami could see that happening, since Jackson had no idea where Hayley was. "Okay," she considered, "then come back with me, and...we can get Ams to do a locator spell. If Alton's human and…"

Yamilet's eyes lowered, quietly finishing for Cami, "...alive."

Cami awkwardly cleared her throat, "Um, yeah. If so, then she'll be able to find him. Okay, so come back with me."

Yamilet nodded, glancing back at the other two men, "I'm going with her," she declared to them, "We have five hours until we turn back and I'm not going to waste it on some woman when my boyfriend's out there too."

"Agreed," Jackson got up, "I want Hayley - she's my wife."

"Then we split," Cami looked at Elijah, doing her best to remain rigid. "I have to get back to the other vampires."

"Thank you Camille," Elijah said honestly, "For your assistance."

Cami nodded and gently took Yamilet away with her.

~ 0 ~

"Are we actually doing this?" Maleny paced back and forth in Amarrah's living room while the French witch surfed through the internet and made notes of the murder cases.

"If you meant 'researching the possible murderer' then yes," Amarrah looked up from her laptop with a sly smile. "What's the big deal?"

Maleny stopped pacing to face Amarrah, biting her lip nervously. "You're kidding right? That's the guy that's apparently friends with Klaus. What am I going to tell him? 'Sorry, my friend thinks that your friend is on a killing spree'."

Amarrah rolled her eyes and returned to her work, "To be fair, Klaus doesn't exactly have nice, sane friends."

"Ams," Maleny sighed, plopping down on the couch chair, rubbing a hand over her face.

"Maleny," Amarrah took on a stern voice, "you said this guy, Lucien, just got here tonight - the same night the murders started. That's worth of suspicion. And Klaus doesn't have to know you told me."

Maleny shook her head, resting her arms on the sides as she thought back to those brief memory flashes. She may have been out of it in the beginning, but she was certain they started just when Lucien Castle returned...was that worth of suspicion?

"What do you know of the guy?" Amarrah asked, missing the thoughtful look on her friend's face.

"Hm?" Maleny's eyes flickered to the dark-haired woman, "Um, nothing really. Klaus just said he was a friend - acquaintance, actually."

"Hm," Amarrah mused as she clicked on a link that led to a video that seemed to be about a donation the man had made. "Well, your boyfriend's acquaintance seems to be some rich boy…"

"Yeah, kinda figured that out on my own," Maleny muttered, flushing when she recalled her imprudence during their first greet and meet.

"He's the CEO of some important company - Kingmaker Land Development," Amarrah continued and unplugged her earphones, pulling out the cable so that the rest of the video she was listening to played out loud for Maleny.

"Listen to the advice of your superiors, then do better! Study the weaknesses of those who outrank you and eliminate them from your own experience. Authority is meant to be challenged! Great achievers refuse to stand in shadows."

Amarrah then paused the video, giving Maleny an 'I told you so' look as the blonde grew concerned. "I need to go talk to the Detective," Amarrah got up and stuffed her laptop in her bag, "I won't tell him anything, maybe just...sidetrack them for a while until you get Klaus to do something about this new friend of his."

~ 0 ~

Freya had gone back to her club as soon as Elijah had returned for Hope. Even though she was still partially drunk, she was relatively surprised to find Cami entering the place. Upon seeing the blonde witch, Cami walked towards her.

"Didn't think you'd be back," Freya mused as she grabbed her drink from the counter.

"I went for my friends, I found one, and now I dropped her off in a place she can get the help I can no longer provide," Cami said sternly, and looked to the side.

"Mmm, just like that?" Freya arched an eyebrow before taking a full shot of her drink.

"Yes, just like that," Cami rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to Freya, "Now, I'm back for business here. It's almost midnight, Freya."

"Well, I'm not wearing glass slippers…" Freya began, but soon realized what Cami was trying to say and groaned, "Do you have to turn the best club in town into your personal blood bank?"

Cami lightly smiled at that, "I know, I used to hate it when I finally learned what really went on in this city. But this is how Marcel used to run things and I'm going to follow in his footsteps. It's how it works. We feed on tourists, compel them to forget, locals turn a blind eye. That's how NOLA works. So, unless you want to become an appetizer-"

Freya raised a hand, "Pass," she pretended to shiver and started on her way out. However, as she went by, she grabbed the hand of a young man and pulled him with her, "This one's coming with me!" she announced and the man went with her without a problem.

~ 0 ~

At the compound, Klaus had already returned from his...interesting...visit to Lucien's apartment, and after getting a notice from Elijah that Hayley was missing, he went straight to find Freya. Finding her no where, he opted for a phone call...of course there was no response.

"Freya, I'm aware that 21st century technology remains a mystery to you, but when you see my name pop up on your phone, you answer it," he left her the voicemail in grave annoyance, "Come home. Immediately."

As he hung up, he heard footsteps from the entrance and dramatically sighed when Maleny came in. "Well, and here I thought you would be resting and getting over your 'special drinks'."

Maleny rolled her eyes, "I did, and then Amarrah came over with the news of murders happening outside. Do you know, she's pretty sure your new friend, Lucien, is responsible for it."

Klaus scoffed, "Your friend isn't exactly the smartest—"

"Hey," Maleny scolded him and dropped her bag onto the couch, pulling her phone from her pocket, "she has evidence and it kinda fits."

"So this is what you did in the meantime I was out? Play detective?" Klaus mused, slightly amused as Maleny handed her phone for him to see.

"I know a thing or two about vampires if you haven't noticed," Maleny motioned him to take a look at the pictures Amarrah had sent to her phone earlier. "Amarrah thinks Lucien is torturing and killing humans in the Quarter. There have been two victims so far and," she sighed, "if you ask me, it's just creepy."

"Lucien would never be so sloppy," Klaus rolled his eyes before taking a look at the pictures of the victim.

Maleny arched an eyebrow, "Hm, seems like you know him a lot more than you've told me. For acquaintances, I mean…"

Klaus was too stunned of the photos to respond back, "There is a familiar method to this particular madness…" he said quietly, the face cutting making him slightly nervous.

"You need to make sure the latest victim is the last one," Maleny took back her phone, seeing the brief nervousness flash through his eyes.

Klaus replaced his nervousness with amusement. "Are you suggest I kill my oldest friend?"

"Ah, so he's a friend now," Maleny raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise. "Well, listen, the NOLA PD can't take down a thousand-year-old vampire murderer, but you can. You're the smartest, and the strongest, and the scariest."

"Are you trying to persuade me...or flirt?" Klaus chucked her cellphone to the couch, turning to her with a smirk as he pulled her towards him.

"I'm not kidding," Maleny sighed but suddenly took a sniff, "Um...you smell like perfume," she declared, tilting her head, "And it's not mine."

"I visited Lucien's new place and he had a party," Klaus began but Maleny pulled herself away from his embrace.

"Look, I know you let me threaten you because I can't actually do anything, but it is upsetting when you deliberately try to get women's hands on you," Maleny crossed her arms and looked to the side.

Klaus chuckled in amusement at the blonde. "I assure you nothing was deliberate," he took her hands and gently brought her back to him. She huffed and turned around, giving him her back. "Mal…"

"Don't 'Mal' me," the blonde muttered, "Go get your murderous friend to stop. Next thing we know, I could be the next victim."

Klaus slid his arms around her waist, both amused yet still serious enough to assure her, "If anyone would even consider that, they wouldn't live to see the morning."

Maleny turned her head to meet his look, pleased to hear his response. "Nice to know I'm cared for here."

"Always, my love," Klaus pressed a kiss to her lips, relaxing when Maleny returned the kiss. Although he was basically suspecting of Lucien himself now, he didn't want Maleny anywhere near Lucien, nor researching information on the man. The last thing he wanted was for Maleny to learn of the part of his past Klaus didn't think she was ready to hear, nor one he was ready to tell.

~ 0 ~

Amarrah and Yamilet, who was now properly changed into Amarrah's borrowed clothes, walked down the street in a heavy rush. After Cami had brought Yamilet to Amarrah's, the French witch performed the locator spell on Alton and found a peculiar result across the Quarter. They didn't know if Alton was trying to get to them, or perhaps was lost, or thinking that Yamilet herself had been killed in one of the wolf traps, but they had to get there. Unfortunately, they stumbled across a new crime scene.

"What is going on in this place?" Yamilet muttered to the witch beside her, having been told by Cami of the two earlier murders. "Wasn't Cami supposed to be taking care of the Quarter now?"

"This isn't her fault," Amarrah shushed her as she saw Detective Kinney making way for them.

"Who's that?" Yamilet eyed the blonde man with mild appreciation.

"You have a boyfriend," Amarrah hissed. She didn't exactly want to run into Kinney at the moment seeing her laptop with all her notes on the case had mysteriously gone missing after seeing him last time. She didn't understand how it could have gotten away from her, but it had and she felt overly irresponsible because of it.

"Amarrah?" Kinney came up to the two women wearing a polite smile, "Miss," he nodded to Yamilet.

"Look, I know I'm supposed to be helping," Amarrah sighed, glancing at Yamilet, "but my friend really needs me right now."

"Actually, Ams," Yamilet looked between the two, getting the feeling the man was staring at them a little too suspiciously, "I can go get Alton on my own."

"What?" Amarrah blinked, "But we need to go together. I want to help you-"

"And you have," Yamilet assured with a small smile, "But, um, there's only a couple of hours left until, I, um…" she made a clawing motion to remind of the full moon passing, "...so maybe it's best I start heading out on my own."

Amarrah sighed, "Okay, but be careful. And I will find a way to...help...both of you."

Yamilet nodded, "Good," she meant to so sound authoritative and chuckled, giving the French witch a hug before leaving.

Amarrah watched her go feeling mildly guilty before facing Kinney. "So, what exactly do I do this time?"

Kinney glanced over his shoulder in the way Yamilet walked off in, and responded with a different topic. "You know, I've seen you in town before...with the two blondes - Camille O'Connell and Maleny Rowan. Thing is, the O'Connells have an unusual history with strange deaths, unexplained behavior, grave-robberies, be-headings, missing persons, police reports with entire sections blacked out. Now she's acting like she's the boss…"

By the time Kinney finished, Amarrah was stunned that he had all that knowledge about her good friend.

"And then your other friend," Kinney chuckled a little, "-the irony- has no background whatsoever. No history in the Quarter - she just popped out of nowhere. Only detail available, and only because we can see, is the fact she's with the mysterious philanthropist-slash-artist Klaus Mikaelson. And then you, you just...came out of no where, much like Miss Rowan. Highly praised Detective coming in yet doing no such thing to get herself on the force here as well…?"

Amarrah gaped with an open mouth, "Um, so...what is this? Some sort of accusation I make weird friends and don't work on what I studied to be?"

"No, I just think you three women are a lot more than you're giving off to the public. There's something you're hiding, and I'll figure it out."

"O-okay," Amarrah blinked, still quite out of it after all she heard. She watched the man walk away from her and became nervous. She worried that the man could get himself into trouble over a simple curiosity.

~ 0 ~

Much later, Freya returned to the compound with her new friend she had picked up from the club. It didn't take much to get to the making out part in the courtyard. Of course, Freya didn't count on her brother to come in and interrupt.

"Freya!" Klaus appeared a couple feet from them, unusually bright, "It's about time you brought a gentleman home to meet the family." He stepped towards the young man, "I'm Freya's brother. And you are? No, don't tell me. Let me guess- Brad?"

There came a giggle from upstairs, where Maleny was residing, "Try Chad, they're always called Chad in the movies."

Klaus pointed to her in agreement and continued, "What are your intentions for my sister? Shall we discuss a dowry?"

The poor human man was terrified when Klaus let his hybrid-eyes came out. "Bro, what the...?"

"Leave. Now," Klaus ordered, momentarily serious.

Maleny laughed when the man ran out in terror. "And the award for 'most annoying little brother' goes out to…" she gestured towards Klaus, who only laughed more.

Freya, meanwhile, gave them both a playful scolding look.

"He was drunk! No one will believe his story," Klaus gave her a smirk.

"You two can make out at every corner of the house but you make the first guy I bring home run away," Freya sighed, only lightly annoyed.

"You can still catch him outside," Maleny called as she came down the stairs. "He was kinda cute." At the sharp look Klaus gave her, she reminded, "Unknown perfume still on you."

"I thought we went past that…"

"I may have forgotten a lot of things but not that one."

"Was there something you two actually needed?" Freya cut into the looming argument, "Or did you just plan this little skit while I was gone?"

Maleny took a sigh and nodded, "We need you to perform a locator spell. Hayley's missing. I don't trust myself without anyone with me."

Freya smiled, "You are more than capable of performing that on your own."

"But seeing it's Hayley out there, we didn't want to take a risk," Klaus said that time, exchanging a worriedly look with Maleny. Both knew Hayley was still raging of what had been done to the wolves and honestly weren't excited over this disappearance.

"'ll need the best connection to Hayley. You'll have to wake Hope," Freya announced sadly, hoping to God there would be no more fighting tonight.

After bringing Hope downstairs and using her for the spell, Freya got straight to work and searched for Hayley. However, she only practice for about a minute before she gasped and abruptly stopped.

"I can't find her," she said quietly, eyes looking over the map before her. "There's nothing- ... It's like she doesn't exist."

"...Or she's dead," Klaus offered another, very plausible, idea, not too pleased.

"No! No. No!" came the voice of a distressed Jackson who rushed inside, 'You have to find her."

"You're here…" Maleny blinked, slightly alarmed.

"Where is Hayley!?" Jackson plainly ignored her and demanded from Freya, whom had tried to do the spell again.

"She's...she's not coming up," Freya shook her head after coming up with the same results. "I don't know what's happening."

Before Jackson could say anything back, he doubled over in pain. Realizing he was turning back into a wolf, Freya stopped her spell.

"Klaus, the chains!" she exclaimed.

Klaus handed Hope to Maleny and rushed to retrieve the chains. But even as Jackson went through the pain of the changing, he continued to plead for Freya's help.

"Freya, please! Please do the spell again!"

Freya glanced back at the table, knowing there wasn't anything else she could that would work. Hayley would not come up anymore, the reason why still such a dread to them all. Klaus returned with the chains, and dragged Jackson to a threshold to chain him up.

"I can't go a month withou- AHH!" Jackson screamed, doubling over again.

Suddenly, he stopped. There was no more pain, no more bone snapping. The changing...stopped.

"It stopped…" Jackson said after a while, much in awe as the others.

~ 0 ~

Much later, Davina looked away the special candle that was to keep Hayley and her pack from changing back to wolves. With a normal lock and a magical one, no one would be able to get through to it but her.

When she turned around, she came to find Marcel coming in. "There's a problem," he sighed.

He led the young teen towards a café shop, specifically the one belonging to Karen Nguyen, the very woman Hayley was sent after. Davina was petrified to see dozens of smoldering, ashen corpses lying in a pile over the patio. There were already other witches, loved ones of the dead, crying over the corpses.

Cami appeared beside them, startling Davina, as the two hadn't exactly spoken out of the faction meetings. But of course, this was part of business.

"There's eleven bodies," the blonde said, "a lot of pissed off loved ones. They thought it was a vampire thing, but all our guys are accounted for at the Abattoir."

Davina gulped as they watched the son of Karen Nguyen, Van, appeared at the scene and discovered his mother was one of the victims. That wasn't what Davina had wanted, at all, and now she had caused a massacre.

~ 0 ~

As Maleny placed down Hope in a playpen, Klaus took out his phone to dial for Lucien's number as they had agreed. "Put it on speaker," Maleny said calmly, her back to him as she made sure Hope was fine. "I want to hear what he says about it."

Though Klaus wasn't too fond of the idea, he did as she wished.

"I taught you better than to leave your leftovers in the street!" he began as soon as the line had been picked up, "My streets."

It sounded as if Lucien was a little out of it. "You'll have to elaborate, mate."

"Two bodies were found sporting rather memorable lacerations. Are you exorcising your demons by carving up the innocents of New Orleans?"

Lucien laughed weakly, "Oh, your family is full of unfounded accusations today. And if I was the culprit, why would you care? We used to make fantastic messes together."

Maleny turned to Klaus, giving him another suspicious stare, questioning him over Lucien's last words.

Klaus ignored her as best he could, for her eyes - while shiny and entrancing - could be very ominous and raging. "There is a delicate balance in this city. There are rules."

"Ah, and people you care about. You can't afford to have weaknesses like that right now."

Maleny crossed her arms, further displeased of what she was hearing.

Klaus promptly looked away from her, knowing he would be paying for that one tonight. "Speaking of weaknesses, there is a wolf chained to my wall who claims he took a chunk out of your arm. Come see me. I'll give you my blood in exchange for your word that the killings will stop."

"I'm afraid your family dog missed the mark, friend. Barely a scratch. No venom breached the skin."

"You listen carefully, friend - my city has enjoyed months of relative peace. If that peace is in any way disrupted, the next gruesome murder will be yours!"

"Now there's the Klaus I know," came the amused response of Lucien before hanging up.

With a heavy sigh, Klaus put away his phone. As soon as he looked back to Maleny, she was already in front of him, staring at him in mild irritation. "So, I'm just a weakness, then?"

"Lucien has a way with words that—"

"Mhm, nice story," Maleny cut him off, patting his arm, "You know, I'm starting not to like this 'acquaintance' of yours. He's making you lie an awful lot."

"Mal—"

"Find me in my room when you can get your stories straight."

Maleny gave him a smirk as she walked past him out the door. She wasn't actually angry, but she was mildly annoyed Klaus couldn't just tell her what was the deal with this Lucien Castle guy.

~ 0 ~

The night had almost passed and as it did, Jackson remained chained in case he would suddenly revert back to a wolf. But when he saw the changing didn't happen, and the sun had come out, he was angry the chains hadn't been removed and that Hayley hadn't yet appeared.

Freya stood a couple feet from him, awkwardly trying to see if she could help him in any way that didn't involve a locator spell or taking the chains off. "Can I get you some water, or... something?"

"Let me out!" Jackson ordered, yanking on hid chains, "It's dawn, I haven't turned back yet. It doesn't make any sense. I need to find Hayley."

Freya sighed and came towards him, placing her hands on his chest, using her magic to try to decipher what was going on. "I can still feel the curse in your blood. Something's restraining it, but you could transition at any moment."

However, Hayley appeared and shoved the poor blonde witch into a nearby column that temporarily knocked her out. Jackson gaped at the sight of his wife covered in blood from head to toe.

"Where the hell is that bastard?" Hayley panted in rage as she sniffed out the two culpable people that kept her away from Hope. Getting the scent of one of them, she backtracked and saw someone coming down the stairs in a hurry.

"Freya?" Maleny was calling, having heard a funny noise from upstairs she hurried to see if Jackson was still his human self. "Freya-" unfortunately, she got herself entangled into something worse - an angry mother. "Hayley!" she gasped as the brunette hybrid sped up to the stairs.

Hayley grabbed her in a choke-hold, harshly pinning her against the staircase rail. "Do you have any idea what you have taken from me?"

Maleny was well aware Hayley was leaning her farther over the rails and for a minute became alarmed. Someone in anger was bound to do horrible things. "Hayley, you need to calm down—"

Hayley shook the blonde violently, "Don't you dare tell me to calm down after months of being cursed!" she squeezed Maleny's neck, causing the blonde to gasp for air. "You took Hope from me you—"

"Hayley!" Maleny sputtered, her frail hands trying to claw Hayley's off her.

"How could you!?" Hayley kept squeezing, knowing it would only take a quick snap to instantly kill the blonde.

During her distraction, Klaus appeared from upstairs and shoved her down the stairs, and would've done more if he was not more preoccupied with Maleny's condition. Maleny violently coughed as the air filled her lungs again. Klaus grabbed her forth, quickly checking to see if she was alright. She only had the growing red marks from Hayley's hold but she was going to be fine.

"You want to fight, fine, but be a little more decent and come after one that can give one back," Klaus turned to Hayley, missing Maleny's momentary irritated look for his comment. "Do not ever attempt to do that again."

Hayley picked herself back up, glaring at both. "All I see are the two people that took my daughter away from me."

"Klaus, don't—" Maleny barely got to say when Klaus sped downstairs to start the fight she had foolishly prayed wouldn't ensue. "Stop!"

Hayley roundhouse-kicked kicked him in the face and sent him across the courtyard. She sped up to him and continued to throw punches.

Maleny hurried down the stairs and saw Freya waking up, as well as Jackson breaking his chains and setting himself free. "No!" she exclaimed, causing Freya to look over and see what was happening.

She cast a spell that kept Jackson back and away from the fight.

"Let me go! He'll kill her!" Jackson shouted, both angry and fearful for Hayley.

"He'll kill you!" Freya snapped.

"I'll get them to stop," Maleny muttered and turned back for the courtyard, catching sight of Elijah coming in and trying to intervene. "STOP IT!" she screamed so loud it managed to draw attention, but only for a couple seconds. She sighed and looked all around, seeing Elijah helplessly trying to stop his brother and Hayley, while Freya struggled to hold Jackson back with her spell.

Exasperated beyond all doubt, she drew on her magic, and caused everyone in the scene to get aneurysms. She waited until everyone was down on their knees before she stopped.

"You're all terrible people," she said afterwards, looking worse for wear herself. That amount of power cost her some energy but she was not going to let anyone get hurt, or accidentally die.

"You're one to talk," Hayley spat as she stood up, still glaring daggers at her.

Maleny rolled her eyes, passed from the apologetic, guilty phase. "Oh shut up, you're no innocent dove yourself my dear."

Hayley's hybrid eyes came out and she sped up to Maleny, raising her head as if to show her superiority over the blonde. Not a minute later did Klaus cut in-between the two, pushing Hayley away.

"No, Klaus, let her," Maleny went around him, heavily nervous but more than ready to speak what she had to say. "I'm not going to hide behind you." But still, Klaus didn't move and kept his protective stance against Hayley. Maleny sighed, but figured if Hayley didn't move Klaus wouldn't either and therefore she began her rant. "You're a hypocrite," she declared, only provoking Hayley's hybrid side to re-emerge and step towards her.

"Excuse me?" Hayley arched her eyebrows, "You curse me and I'm the hypocrite here?"

"First of all," Maleny stepped towards her as well, "It was Dahlia who sprung the curse out of nowhere. We didn't plan it!"

"Right, on a plan neither of you thought to share?" this time it had been Jackson who made a response.

"There was no time!" Klaus snapped at him, "Or did you forget you were already midway out of the bayou with my daughter? On the run?"

"We had to get her away!" Hayley exclaimed, "Your family was only hurting her!"

"That's a crappy excuse and you know it," Maleny accused and endure the glare sent her way.

"You can make up excuses all you want, Maleny, but I was only trying to do what was best for her," Hayley frowned. "You two," she pointed at Maleny and Klaus, "took her away from me. You are cruel, and murderers of the very wolves that would have laid their lives for Hope. You took my daughter from me!"

"So. Are. You," Maleny calmly said, bitterly laughing at the accusations and angered Hayley more. "In fact, no one here in this bloody place is innocent. You're a hypocrite for trying to make it seem so."

"What the hell—"

"Or have you told anyone of the massacre you caused over in the witches' territory?" Maleny's questioned left Hayley silent for a moment, and confused the others due to their lack of knowledge of the subject. Maleny smirked at the brunette hybrid. "Thought I didn't know about that? That's what happens when your friend is the leader in the Quarter now. I don't know how you did it, but I'm sure Davina was the one that brought you back and in exchange for a curse delayment, you killed those people. And don't even deny it because all the evidence points to you. You claim we're the evil ones but you're no better. You killed people's' parents and that was on purpose. That was your goal." She then turned back and pointed at Jackson. "And taking Hope and Hayley from where they belonged was your idea in the first place. You were going to take a little girl's father from her. And," she sighed and pointed her finger at Freya, startling the blonde witch that she was now next, "you killed your mother and we never even touched on the subject, but when Klaus did the same to Mikael everyone went nuts. And Elijah," she sourly smiled, "you daggered your brother after taking a decision that did not belong to you. Klaus," she turned to him, "you killed your father, brought back your mother only to be killed hours later. And as for myself, I ensured Kol remained on the other side where he's probably being tortured daily by the spirits of New Orleans as well as letting my friends suffer in a curse I couldn't solve. So," she finally returned her gaze back to Hayley, daring Hayley to challenge her again, "is there any other bloody detail you want to discuss concerning loyalty and innocence?"

Hayley swallowed hard, suddenly all the rage and insults she had thought of gone from her mind. She hadn't quite counted on being put on the spotlight like that, a thought everyone else shared with her.

Maleny deeply sighed, "That's what I thought," she said rather irritated herself. "No one is innocent here. Now, I do apologize for what happened, because that was no where near what we had planned. But we would never take away your daughter from you. Or are you forgetting how someone took mine from me centuries ago? Hope is upstairs, and she does know you love her. But mine? My son has made no contact with me, nothing to show that he's coming. Maybe he's not coming back, maybe he's…" she looked down, the realization finally setting over her shoulders, "...he's over the fact he had parents in the first place. Go see Hope, she's up there, napping."

Being uncomfortable was the last thing Hayley pictured when thinking of returning to the compound. But, she was, and she didn't quite know what to do.

"Go!" Maleny exclaimed, her voice abruptly breaking.

Hayley rushed to go see her daughter upstairs, Jackson quickly following her. Everyone else felt the thick sense of guilt, and melancholy for their previous actions.

After a minute, Klaus went for Maleny, "Let's—"

Maleny shook her head, "I think I just want to be alone for a while." He agreed with a small nod, and only because he saw her weariness from lack of sleep finally catching up to her. Rubbing her sore neck, Maleny walked for the stairs, ignoring the looks she received from all three siblings.

Once she was gone, Freya spoke up, and not pleased herself. "That was nothing of what I was expecting," she admitted with a long sigh.

"Yes, Maleny has always had a way of pointing out our faults without being rude about it," Klaus sighed as well, unlike the others not as surprised of what happened.

"I still believe perhaps we can cut the tension by allowing Hayley and Jackson to have their own space," Elijah suggested, immediately receiving a hard look from Klaus. "Hayley has missed many months of Hope's development, and perhaps this can do well for all. There's a new apartment right across the street, so that Hope would never be out of our hearing-shot."

"I think it would be a good idea," Freya agreed, nodding her head. "Intentional or not, the curse did happen and it did break a lot of families. Let Hayley spend time with her daughter for all that she missed out."

"It's only temporal, brother," assured Elijah, able to see the fear of Hope being, once again, taken flash through Klaus' eyes. Only somewhat on board, Klaus gave the nod and allowed Elijah to go set things up.

~ 0 ~

Amarrah loudly slammed her hand on the top of Kinney's car, startling the man into looking away from the radio. She was unamused, irritated, and frankly indignant. "I've been meaning to talk to you about my missing laptop and notes?" Kinney shot her a wide smile, almost amused with her. That only infuriated Amarrah, "You think this is funny? I could report you for that."

Kinney raised a hand and with the other handed her back her laptop. "All the interesting stuff was password-protected, but I knew Vincent wouldn't just pull you in for kicks."

"He wanted Cami, not me," Amarrah clarified blankly, upholding her annoyed face.

"But he brought you in nonetheless and I doubt he did that because 'there was no one else'. He knew you knew your stuff. You're not an amateur."

"I would thank you for the comment but I'm kinda of upset with you if you haven't noticed."

Kinney smiled smugly as he got out of the car. "I finished up the end of that video you were watching. Lucien Castle? Highly motivating. Feeling like my best self already."

Suddenly Amarrah's annoyance vanished from her face and was replaced with due concern for the man. That was exactly what she wanted to avoid. "Nothing's concrete, I was just...looking into the new tourists that came in yesterday," Amarrah swallowed hard.

"And the brief notes on him?"

"Just...brief. It's nothing set on stone."

Kinney stared long and hard at the French woman before warmly smiling. "You could very well report me but you haven't, because you know I was right about your family. You're not a suspect, Amarrah. I'm actually looking out for you. I think you're mixed up in something much bigger than you realize."

Amarrah would've scoffed at such irony if she was conversing with anyone else. "Trust me, I realize." She was going to add more onto that when she heard snippets of the radio from inside the car. "Wait…" she turned to the car, "Turn up the radio…"

Confused, Kinney reached inside and did as she wanted. As soon as he did, they both heard announcements over the murders.

"While police refuse to release information, sources allege that a manhunt is on for a possible serial killer. Two violently mutilated bodies entirely drained of blood have been recovered..."

"How the hell did they know about the blood?" Kinney anxiously, and beyond confused, looked at Amarrah, the witch unable to come up with anything herself.

~ 0 ~

Back at Lucien's apartment, he had the very journalist behind the newest article that consisted of all the murder details. He took a glass of blood from her and headed into his bedroom, leaving the journalist to look over her article for a while.

He meant to return the briefcase that consisted of ingredients he used to cure himself of Jackson's bite, but became distracted by a leather-bound journal in the trunk. He picked up the journal and opened it up to the same page he always did when he came across it. Even though the drawing was over a thousand years old, he firmly believed the drawing of Cecilia de Ark remained as beautiful as she had been in her time. But then came the memories of her tragic ending, and he felt the fury that he had felt on that day...and never ceased to disappear completely. Those who caused her death would have their ending, and very soon.

~ 0 ~

Freya walked into the lounge room with an ice pack in hand, and found Elijah nervously pacing back and forth. "Dare I ask what's wrong now?" she sighed, slightly amused.

Elijah eyed the iced pack for a minute, when Freya gestured to her bruised forehead, and he dismissed it. "I received some unsettling information from Lucien Castle. I don't trust the source, but I... trust you."

Freya nodded, and in the next couple of minutes she had him and Klaus downstairs in the courtyard, preparing a spell that consisted of Klaus' blood and several other herbs.

"If you fed on this prophetic witch, her blood is still in your system. If there's a weapon that can kill you, we need to know," Freya lighted a tall, black candle and placed it on the center of the table where it would be surrounded by other small, lite white candles. She grabbed the bowl with Klaus' blood and put it down in front of three strips of papers with Norse runes on them, meant to have the names of the three remaining Originals.

Nervously, Freya dunk her fingers into the bowl, thus beginning the spell. "No mentre le prophecie que la otra ve. No mentre le prophecie que la otra ve."

As soon as she did, she felt the overwhelming power curse through her body. Her two brothers became concerned when blood began oozing from her right ear. She chanted louder, and more aggressively, but as she did more blood appear came from her other ear, and nose.

"Freya, stop!" Elijah reached out for her but Freya was now in depth with the visions of the -so-called prophecy.

She saw Elijah's painting that hung in one of the rooms being splashed with blood, as well as a beast with large, long and sharp fangs roaring and blaring out bloody teeth.

Out of the nowhere, the three strips of paper burst into flames. Freya came back, gasping deeply and opening her eyes. Although the flames slowly died out on their own, Freya looked worse for wear.

"It's true," she said grimly, "You have a terrible shadow over you. Rebekah, too. If this prophecy is fulfilled, you will all fall. One by friend, one by foe, and one...by family."

~ 0 ~

New York

A young woman with straight, long black hair, finely dressed and wearing black, rounded sunglasses, walked into a diner, momentarily scanning the area until she spotted the person she came in for. She walked towards a booth where a young man was sitting. She glanced over a map settled on the table, and the laptop sitting in front of the man.

Upon seeing her, the young man smiled and motioned her to sit across him, "I'm glad you came."

"You knew very well I was on my way back to England," the woman berated him in a thick English accent, but smiled widely as if unsurprised the man had pulled that type of stunt. She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing bright blue eyes behind, and leaned forwards, "So, what was so important you just had to pull me from my jet, Xavier?"

The man, Xavier, chuckled and turned his laptop around, immediately capturing her attention. Xavier smiled proudly then, "Good, huh? I found that a couple hours ago."

"Lucien Castle," the woman breathed in, "What about him!?"

"It seems like he's donated a large amount of money to clean up a bayou, near…" Xavier drew out the word as he went to the map of the United States, pointed to the spot of New Orleans, "...here."

"Really? And you're telling me because…?"

"Well, over the last year or so, there have been reports of strange disappearances, and fights in the French Quarter. And now suddenly the old vampire Lucien is heading over there? Why?"

The woman's eyes widened, the delight pouring from her eyes, "You think, that...he's there?"

The man smirked and gave a nod, "I am willing to bet my life that if you were to go there, you would find Klaus Mikaelson."

[wonkasmissstarshine]

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.43

GIFs not mine. Credit go to owners.

Summary: Rose and Willy bring Fleur and Dulce home. Rose has overwhelming thoughts.

Tagging: @willymywonkers @holdmeicant @sleepiesapphicxoxo @frozenhuntress67

It was early in the afternoon the following day when Dr. Potts cleared Rose to go home with Fleur and Dulce. He was pleased when everything was looking good for not just the babies, but Rose as well. Poppy made sure to explain how to take care of the twins to Rose and Willy. She went through everything from feeding, changing diapers, bathing, and putting them down for bed.

Rose and Willy both had to admit that they were feeling quite nervous. From this day forward, they were now responsible for the two little human beings that they were now holding in their arms. Poppy could sense how nervous the new parents were.

"I know you two are nervous," Poppy started her pep talk. "But everything is going to be fine. You're going to be amazing parents. And if you guys ever find yourselves needing a bit of help, you've got family and friends there to support you, and you can always give me a call"

"Thank you, Poppy," Rose said. When Dr. Potts returned to the Puppet Hospital, he was with Mr. and Mrs. Bucket and pushing a wheelchair forward. "Dr. Potts, I'm fine. You said so yourself. I don't need to be pushed"

"I know, but it's standard procedure for if you delivered at the hospital. And it's only the day after. I don't want you overexerting yourself" Dr. Potts explained.

Rose sighed in defeat. She sat down in the chair while still holding Dulce in her arms. Mr. Bucket moved behind her, grabbing the handlebars of the chair. Rose quirked her head up to look at her father, smiling at him. Mr. Bucket returned his daughter's smile, patting her on the shoulder.

"Is there anything else before they head on home?" Mr. Bucket asked Dr. Potts.

"Not unless Rose or Willy have any questions?" Dr. Potts asked, looking between the two Wonkas.

"I don't" Rose shook her head. She looked at Willy. "Do you, cocoa bean?"

"Nope," Willy answered. "I'm just ready to get you, and our jellybean and gumdrop home"

"Me too" Rose agreed.

With that, Dr. Potts and Poppy said their goodbyes to the Wonkas and the Buckets. An Oompa-Loompa came by and escorted the Potts out of the factory.

"Are you ready to head home, dears?" Mrs. Bucket asked her daughter and son-in-law. "Get the two little darlings home for a nap?"

Willy came over to stand by Rose. He held Fleur in one arm, and the other reached down so that he could take Rose's hand. He squeezed it and then brought it up to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles. "Let's head home, starshine"

******

Mr. Bucket pushed Rose all the way to the Garden Room, where Rose and Willy's small home waited. "Here we are," Mr. Bucket said, halting the chair to a stop. "Home sweet home"

Rose couldn't help but giggle when her father said that, only because of how literal the meaning was. I mean, the Wonka house was literally in a garden filled with cotton candy trees, chocolate roses, and minty grass.

"I still can't get over how beautiful this room is" Mrs. Bucket mused, her eyes wandering. "That you made this room for Rose" She smiled over at Willy. "She's sure lucky to have met and married you"

"I thought I was the lucky one" Willy giggled. This made Rose look up at him, wearing an adoring smile. "Rose could have chosen anyone else to be with, but she chose me. She fell in love with me. She married me. She had children with me"

Mr. and Mrs. Bucket both shared a smile. Even if they've been together for quite some time now, it still warmed their heart to know that Rose was with someone who loved and cared about her so much. All they ever wanted for Rose was for her to have someone to make her feel happy and loved. And they were glad that it was Willy who made her feel that way.

"Well, I'm home" Rose spoke, intruding on her parents' happy thoughts. "Can I stand up now?" No one objected as she got up on her feet.

"You feeling alright, dear?" Mrs. Bucket asked.

"Yes, mum"

Mrs. Bucket nodded. "Okay then. Is there anything you two need before we leave?"

"I think we'll be fine" Rose voiced. She looked at Willy. "Will we, cocoa bean?"

"We will, starshine" Willy assured.

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Bucket asked yet again. "There's nothing wrong with having one of us stay here for a couple of days. I was a new parent once. I know how nerve-wracking it can be"

Mr. Bucket placed his hand on his wife's shoulder. "Dear, I think they'll be fine" He stopped his wife from going into a ramble.

"Okay, okay" Mrs. Bucket sighed. "But, if there is a day where you find yourselves overwhelmed, remember, there is nothing wrong with asking for help"

"We'll remember that mum. Thank you" Rose said.

Mr. and Mrs. Bucket gave Rose and Willy hugs and kisses goodbye, and they also made sure to say goodbye to their grandchildren. Then they left, making their way back to their own home that resided in the Chocolate Room.

Rose and Willy Wonka were officially left on their own with their children.

"So," Willy spoke after a long pause of silence. "What do we do now?"

"We show our little angels their home, and then I think we should feed them and set them down for a nap"

******

Willy was in the nursery with Fleur and Dulce while Rose was in the kitchen preparing a bottle for both of them. She remembered Poppy's advice. The milk should be warm. Not too hot. Not too cold. Warm.

Poppy gave Rose a lot of advice but it was all so suddenly hard to remember.

What was she supposed to do when they were crying? Did it mean they were hungry? Tired? Need to be changed? All three? What if they start crying but they never stop? No matter what Rose does to try to make them feel better.

What if she's holding one of them and she accidentally drops them? She doesn't want to be the reason that her babies become injured. What if one of them gets sick but they never get better?

What if she becomes so stressed out with the babies and she starts to resent them? What if they end up feeling more like a burden more than a blessing?

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Rose immediately tossed that thought in the trash.

******

Willy noticed that Rose was taking an awfully long time preparing the bottles. He decided that perhaps he should go check on her. See if she needed any help. He set the babies down in their cribs. "Mommy is taking an awfully long time with those bottles" Willy talked to his children. The both of them looked up at him with those matching wide eyes. "I'm going to see if she's okay. Now, don't either of you move. Daddy will be right back"

He left the nursery and made his way to the kitchen area. "Starshine? Is everything okay? You're--" Willy stopped himself when he saw Rose sitting on the floor, crying into her hands. "Oh, starshine" He cooed. "Come here. Let's get you off the floor"

All Rose did was nod as she let Willy grab her and lift her off the floor. She gripped onto the lapels of his coat and cried into his chest. Willy's arms wrapped around her. He began rubbing her back. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong, starshine?"

"I-I'm scared, cocoa bean" Rose wept. "Maybe we jumped into this too soon. We should've waited a bit"

"Starshine, I want you to look at me" Willy cupped her face and tilted her head up so that she was facing him. "How do you think I'm feeling? I'm scared too. I never thought that I'd be a dad and now I am. I don't know how to be a dad. This is new for both of us, but at least we can figure it out together" He pressed a kiss to her lips. "You're not alone in this. You've got me by your side"

Rose's crying stopped and her lips curled into a smile. "Thank you. I love you so much, cocoa bean"

"I love you too, starshine" Willy smiled at her. He glanced over at the counter where two bottles of warm milk were waiting. "Is the milk ready?"

"I think so" Rose nodded, also glancing towards the bottles. "I made sure that the milk is warm, just like Poppy said"

"Good. We've got a hungry jellybean and gumdrop waiting for us"

Rose and Willy both grabbed a bottle and made their way into the nursery where their two little angels were waiting for their feeding.

******

Upon stepping into the nursery, Rose began cooing out to the twins. "Hello, my little angels" She peered into their side-by-side cribs. "Sorry, mommy took so long with your bottles. I'm new to this whole being a parent thing. Now, who's hungry for some yummy warm milk?" Fleur and Dulce both made a cute little noise, almost as if they were answering their mommy.

"I think that's a yes" Willy inferred, then giggled. "Who's feeding who?"

Rose wasn't blind to see the way that Fleur was looking up at her father. She made joyful noises of gurgling and giggling when Willy stepped closer. "I think our little jellybean wants you to feed her" Rose whispered to her husband. "I have a feeling she's definitely going to be a daddy's girl"

"But she's still going to love you just as equally," Willy said.

"Just like we love both of them, so, so much"

Rose watched as Willy picked up Fleur. She watched as he cooed, "my little jellybean" to her. She watched as he brought her closer to his face. She watched as Fleur smiled, giggled, and reached out to touch her father's nose. She watched as he pressed a gentle kiss to hers.

Rose picked up Dulce. She cradled him close to her, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of his little forehead. Dulce smiled and giggled at that. Willy came closer to them, cooed, "my little gumdrop" to Dulce, and pressed a kiss to his nose as well. Rose leaned over and pressed a kiss to Fleur's forehead.

And doubts and worries that Rose had only minutes before, suddenly vanished from her mind. The only thing that mattered to her was the fact that she now had her own little family with Willy, Fleur, and Dulce.

And it was all thanks to Charlie when he found that Golden Ticket. For not only had he become the luckiest boy in the world that day. Rose had become the luckiest girl in the world.

[cinematicnomad]

1, 7, 25 for the fanfic end of year ask :)

001. favorite fic you wrote this year i have a soft spot for take my hand (take my everything) which was the first fic i wrote this year! and kind of the first step back into writing creatively on something new that wasn’t the 7 year monster sterek fic. also my first foray into 9-1-1 fic and was just a lot of fun! 

007. longest completed fic you wrote this year the longest fic i wrote was my second for the year! so show me (family) wound up being around 16k+ for 9-1-1 which kind of burst out of me over the course of one 48 hour window unlike take my hand which took a few weeks to crank out. 

025. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read SO MANY FICS DUDE!!! i’m gonna rec a couple, some that i re-read this year and some that i discovered for the first time, all from a variety of fandoms. BUT heads up, you didn’t specify a fandom so it’s gonna be a little scattered. also someone else sent me this same question but specified 9-1-1, so i’m gonna reserve those recs for that ask. GET READY!!

and this, your living kiss by opal_bullets (7/7 | 84k+ | M) destiel; AU: college/university; john winchester’s A+ parenting; angst with a happy ending

only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet jack allen is just kansas mechanic dean winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen.

until, that is, a string of coincidences leads dean to auditing a poetry course with one dr. castiel novak. the professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia’s foremost expert on the poetry of jack allen.

note: i discovered this fic back in the pre-pandemic times of feb 2020 and i’ve read this fic TWICE since, leaving a lengthy comment each time. the poetry in the fic itself is stunningly gorgeous and i have a habit of reading it out loud to myself while reading bc it begs to be heard. this fic is seriously beautiful and makes me want to read all the poet!dean au’s out there in the world. unfortunately there aren’t that many so i just keep coming back to this well. i don’t think i can express enough how much i love this fic. 

lost time by ARCurren (105/105 | 350k+ | T)  bransonxsybil; AU: canon divergent; outsider POVs; original characters; slow burn

the story of a free spirit who was asked to give up the man she loved for a system she didn’t believe in and what happened next. AU after 3.04. 

note: did i think, when i stumbled across this fic years ago, that it would wind up being one of my all time favorites that i return to time and again to re-read? never. did i re-read it for like the dozenth time this year?? 110%. this fic is everything i want from fanfiction—it’s beautifully written, expands on canon, and shows me all the hidden moments the cameras never did (not to mention it’s historically accurate and delves deep into irish politics of the time). the first third or so of this fic is all about tom and sybil’s slow burn romance at downton, but the fic really bursts into its own when we follow the two to dublin and get introduced to all of the author’s deliciously detailed oc’s. heads up warning: this fic was never officially completed, though the final chapter is a beautifully written summary of the final arc of the fic. even so, it’s fucking worth it. 

misfire by mothlights & unpossible (6/6 | 28k+ | T) sterek; time travel; angst with a happy ending; alive hale family; magic; alternating POV

“the debt must be repaid,” she says, and it has the weight of a vow. the words resonate through him, ringing through his ribcage and the bones of his jaw, and stiles loses his breath and maybe his grip on reality because she draws herself upright and where there had once stood a supermodel-level MILK now there is galadriel’s much hotter older sister, a presence of unmistakable power in their ordinary, smells-vaguely-of-thai-takeout hallway. 

“oh shit,” stiles says. 

note: this fic is the first in the misfire ‘verse and i need you to understand that it literally broke me when i binge read these fics a month or so ago. i am a sucker for a solid time travel fic especially bc there are such few good ones in fandom. but this gets at the heart of it all by exploring the idea of stiles getting the chance to save derek’s family and taking it...after he and derek are romantically together in his true timeline and then actually dealing with the ramifications of how that alters everything and how stiles survives in this new present where he and derek are virtual strangers. everyone should definitely read this, but you should also know that i fucking sobbed while reading the sequel (which also has a happy ending, but really digs deep into the nitty gritty angst of the repercussions). 

map of the world by seperis (11/11 | 154k+ | M)  destiel; end!verse; alternate universe; canon divergent; original characters; slow burn

the world’s already over and they’re already dead. all they’re doing now is marking time until the end. 

note: look, if you don’t know about down to agincourt by @seperis, what are you doing with your life?? the series is over 1M+ words so far, the fic author is on book 4 out of a planned 8, and it’s fucking phenomenal. i know i’ve tagged a couple of these recs as slow burn but...this is the slowest slow burn to ever burn. canon!dean travels back into the end!verse timeline just as lucifer kills dean and somehow cas made it out alive and has to keep dean safe while he learns to become his end!verse counterpoint. the world building in this series is intense and i cannot recommend it enough. i’m still in the midst of my re-read bc it’s SUCH an endeavor but i highly recommend it to everybody. 

invictus by ellanasan (116/116 | 355+ | M) hayffie; au: alive abernathy family; pre-hunger games; canon prostitution; slow burn

“so then, before i can even think about doing something stupid like trying to stab him with his fucking golden paperknife, he gives me a choice, see?” haymitch continued, almost detached. “either i play nice like all the other victors or he’ll kill my family. i could either become his puppet—greatest punishment he could give me, according to him—or i could become the example.”

AU in which haymitch’s family lives.

note: hello, have you ever wondered what the hunger games series would be like if haymitch’s family were alive? i fucking hadn’t until 2 years ago when i stumbled across this fic and fell head over heels in love with this ship. @ellanainthetardis is my go to hunger games fic writer for anything exploring canon and i’m obsessed with anything she writes about the OG victors pre-canon (finnick, joanna, chaff, etc). this fic is just 300k+ exploring that world and all the intricate details of how cruel the games could really be. HIGHLY recommend. i definitely re-read it this fall when i needed a pick me up.

don’t know what i’m supposed to do (haunted by the ghost of you) by crazyassmurdererwall (1/1 | 30k+ | T) sterek; canon divergent; angst with a happy ending; ghosts; stiles POV

stiles sees dead people. yep. seriously.

(he’s got this. he’s totally got this. so what if one of them is derek’s mom?)

note: did you know that @crazyassmurdererwall is one of my all time favorite people? and that she’s wicked talented? and that in our spare time she’ll send me a billion fic ideas that are amazing and i get to hear all the intricate details of her plot bunnies? but i digress. this fic is one of my all time fave sterek fics i’ve re-read it sooo many times. there’s just something about the heartache and stiles’ insecurity and the way he tries to shoulder it all on his own. and then there’s alli’s brilliant writing, the way she weaves through a scene and paints a picture just so and manages to tug at your heart strings with her precise word choice. there’s some amazing world building in this fic as it explores this other facet of the supernatural that canon teen wolf never touched upon, and i’m so grateful for that bc alli is the only one who should be allowed to write about ghosts and teen wolf together. 

lagavulin and guinness by snarfle (10/10 | 163k+ | explicit) hartwin; slow burn; PTSD; suicidal thoughts; graphic depictions of violence; domestic abuse

plenty of people had looked down on eggsy throughout his life. he had gotten fairly used to it. didn’t mean it was fair, but he knew how these things worked. what really sucked was that the new arthur was worse than the old one.

“eggsy grimaced. he didn’t know how to explain to harry—who seemed like he hadn’t been discriminated against a day in his life—that the new arthur kept giving him what amounted to suicide missions, and that he was currently bleeding out in a warehouse because of the deliberately bad intel she had given him.”

also featuring: dean is harder to get rid of than eggsy thought, his mum is going off the deep end, there are way too many nefarious plots in play, and eggsy is really beginning to wish that harry would stop holding his hand and kiss him instead.

note: look, i know i recced this literally less than a week ago but i ALSO stayed up til 5AM re-reading this last night and it was a-m-a-z-i-n-g. i was on a bit of a kingsman kick earlier this year, so i’ve actually re-read this fic TWICE so far in 2020. i will give you a serious warning in that this fic delves deep into domestic abuse through the lens of a variety of different relationships. it also explores the potential for abuse in hartwin, bc this fic is one of the few that actually commits to the fact that they’re literal spies who murder people. actively. a lot. but seriously, this fic is one of my fave in the fandom and i STRONGLY recommend it. 

waste of breath by bryrosea (1/1 | 22k+ | M) loganxveronica; canon compliant; missing scenes; navy; past child abuse

logan echolls, the nine years, and the navy.

note: bryrosea has an obscene number of amazing logan and veronica fics (her canon divergent series stay with me is another i re-read this year), but i’ve found myself returning to this fic a lot over the years. i’m a sucker for canon compliant fics that explore the missing scenes in between canon and this fic hits all the right buttons by diving deep into how logan echolls went from being a trash fire at hearst college at the end of s3 to being a decorated navy pilot by the movie. it explores logan seeking out therapy and making a life for himself that he can be proud of, all while pining after the girl who got away. and bc this author is amazing, she followed it up with a sequel from veronica’s point of view in the series done by only me. 

the law of equivalent exchange by awed_frog (8/8 | 60k+ | M) destiel; POV castiel; pre-canon; post-canon; canon compliant; immortality; reincarnation

“and what’s the point of it?”

“of love? there isn’t one. loving is its own purpose.” 

note: i mean??? i don’t really know what to say except that this is one of the truly most beautiful fics i have ever read. it follows castiel through time as he meets different reincarnations of sam and dean across history and falls ever more deeply in love. it is achingly tender and so ecstatically written that i die just thinking about it. and that summary? i mean. holy fuck break my heart why don’t you? i don’t know how i missed out on this fic for so long since it was published in 2015 but i only learned about it for the first time back in july and it was. life changing?? when the fic finally reaches the canon timeline and he meets THIS dean it’s peak yearning. 10/10 will read again.

ahead in the count by elisela (17/17 | 50k+ | E) sterek; AU: sports; pitcher!stiles; teacher!derek; long distance relationship; getting together

“yankee fan,” derek says, laughing when stiles makes a disgusted face. “the bronx bombers, stiles, you can’t be a new yorker and—”

“stop talking right now,” stiles sighs, shaking his head. “i can’t believe i still want to kiss you after that,” he says, pulling derek in by his coat. “this is making me rethink everything.” 

“i’ll never watch them again,” derek promises, and stiles laughs against his mouth. 

or: stiles is a starting pitcher for the NY mets when he meets and falls in love with derek. derek doesn’t know. 

note: i read SO MANY of @elisela’s 911 fics this summer, which i loved, and then she got into teen wolf and started writing sterek and i just about died. this fic is amazing, one of my fave sterek AU’s that i’ve read in years. it’s just the right amount of drama and angst and fluff filled with all the joys of miscommunication and character relationships that makes reading sterek such a joy. reading this fic and finding out eli needed fic recs pushed me to dive back in to reading sterek fics for a bit this fall so i can say with the utmost authority that this is one of the best i’ve read in a long time. 

i used to think one day we’d tell the story of us by notequitegucci (2/2 | 32k+ | M) gendrya; alternate universe—modern setting; outsider POV; friends to lovers; friends to lovers

9 times a stark encounters gendry + 1 time he meets the starks.

note: again, this is the first in a 2 part series titled love me like you do that explores arya and gendry’s dynamics together through the point of view of her family. game of thrones ended last year with a whimper but i keep returning to the gendrya tag on ao3 to seek out new, amazing content and also to re-read some old favorites. i can’t remember if i came across this for the first time last year or this one, but i’ve read it and re-read it more times than i can count since and i love it more than i can describe. i’m a total sucker for outsider POV fics and my biggest pet peeve in canon is the fact that none of the stark’s ever found out that arya and gendry had a history together. this modern au fic almost makes up for it by giving me a gendry encounter with every family member and then the big reveal. it’s peak content. 

theeeeeeese recs got a little away from me. i wasn’t originally intending on adding lengthy notes to each entry but ... oh well!! these are all amazing so please enjoy. 

fanfic end of the year asks

[twoidiotwriters1]

Pure Blood 33 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

Words: 1,841

Warnings: Saaaaad stuff

Materlist:

Chapter 32:  Chapter 34

"Sirius, I'm not in the mood for your jokes," I say following him through the trees of the forbidden forest. Thunder echoes warning us a storm is coming.

“It's not a joke. Trust me.”

The moonlight no longer illuminates the path, I stop.

"Sirius, I really don't want to keep going,” I say nervously.

I hear him sigh.

"We're almost there, just a few more feet, Percy."

"I can't, let's go back please!” I feel my lower lip tremble.

He reaches out and touches my cheek.

“I know you don't feel good. I just want to show you something that will make you forget all this, even for a few minutes. It’ll be fine, do you trust me?"

“…Yes” I whisper.

Sirius takes my hand again and we continue walking. I don't know how he can go on without having light, but I just follow him. On one side are two trees thicker than the others, only a few meters apart from each other. We stop and he turns.

"I know it's weird, but you have to follow the black dog,” He says with a mischievous little smile.

I nod, unsure of what he means.

Sirius walks away and goes behind one of the trees. He returns as a huge black dog and signals me to follow him. Carefully, I obey by stepping on various branches and dry leaves. Passing the two trees is a cobbled path. Sirius and I walked over it until we reached a clearing; an expanse of land where herbs hurt my knees.

Sirius stops in front of me and makes a sign that I understand I have to wait. The dog runs to the center of the field and I lose sight of him for a few minutes. When he returns, his tail wags from side to side. He makes me follow him to the center of the clearing and I sit crossing my legs.

"Now what?" I ask him.

He cocks his head, turns away a little and starts barking. I look at him confused, until his barking echoes all over the place and little yellow lights stick out of the grass. I look in amazement at the fireflies that go up until they disappear in the trees. I smile when several approach me.

"You like it?" I jump when I hear Sirius's voice and turn to see him.

"It's beautiful," I whisper. He comes closer, wraps his arm around my shoulders, and draws me into his body.

I hear his heartbeat, feel the grass below me, and breathe in the cold air. Only until the thunder is more continuous does the rain fall uncontrollably, but we don’t move to avoid it.

The fireflies hide and everything goes dark.

The memories return and my heart races along with my breathing. My smile disappears and my tears mix with the rain. I bend my legs to my chest and hug them hiding my face in them. My shoulders shake from my sobs. Sirius hugs me and rests his forehead in my hair.

"I'm sorry,” He whispers in my ear.

"I don't understand,” I say. I raise my voice so he can hear me through the rain. “What else do they want from me? They know that I’m miserable there, with them, with those obligations. They have four other kids that they can use! Why do they keep insisting on me?" I scream angrily.

"I don't know," Sirius replies. “I'm sorry I don’t have the answer. I'm sorry I can't do something to make you feel good. I'm sorry I can't protect you as I would like…”

"That's the worst! It's not your fault, or the other boys' fault. Not my brothers and sisters. It’s my parents and all that garbage they have carried for generations. They want me to continue, but I can't. I don't want to!" He hugs me tighter.

"Sorry, Percy."

I hide my face on his neck, breathing in the scent of him. I cling to him like my life depends on it. But something distracts me, something familiar.

“Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"You smell like a wet dog.”

“I think it explains itself, don’t you think?” He replied in amusement.

Wet dog. A horrible scent that I had smelled before. In potions class, when Slughorn showed us the Amortentia potion.

***

"I could tell my parents that I’ll stay with you for the wedding arrangements?” tries Jenna.

"No, I don't want someone else to get involved," I say.

I rest my head on Sirius's shoulder. His hand squeezes mine.

"I don't want to leave you alone.”

I look up and see my best friend's look of empathy.

“I won't be. I wrote to Apollo.”

"Do you think he can do something?" Remus asks.

I shrug. "It's the only thing I have left"

The compartment is silent. No one knows what to say or do. There are no more plans or easy ways out. At one point I fall asleep, Sirius wakes me up when we get to the station and this time, my mother and Juno are waiting for me.

My friends say goodbye to me and I promise to communicate in some way.

“Anything, please, you must tell me. I don't know if there are any muggle phones close to your home, but you can find one. James's parents have one,” says Sirius giving me a paper with the number. “Take care,” He whispers in a broken voice and hugs me. My eyes water. “I wrote to my uncle Alphard. Maybe he can help you.”

"Thank you Sirius,” I clean my cheeks. I look at my mother and sister. They watch carefully. I look down at the ground.

If this continues, if I have no escape. I will not be able to continue with the life I had, which I finally managed to be happy with.

I return my gaze to Sirius and take in every detail of his face. His gray eyes, the unruly hair that falls on his face. I touch his cheek to feel his smooth skin. I kiss his lips, savoring every moment.

"I love you Sirius,” I whisper and pull away a bit. He looks at me in surprise and tries to speak. I sigh and walk to my family without waiting for an answer.

***

Sirius

"And what did you expect me to do, Prongs?" I growl looking at my best friend.

“I don't know, mate. I have no idea what we could do, my brain ran out of ideas.”

I walk back and forth in James's room, pulling my hair in desperation.

"I want to help her, I want her to run away just like I did.”

“Sirius…”

“It's not easy, but it’s better, it will be better–”

“Sirius.”

"If we go to her house maybe she can run away without anyone noticing–“

"Sirius!" James stops me. “She’s not like you. They’re not the same families and it’s not the same situation.”

“And what should I do? Stand by and do nothing? Waiting for an invitation to my girlfriend and younger brother’s wedding?"

"No! But whatever idea you have may make it worse!”

"How the hell can it be worse?"

“She can get hurt. It’s worse than your situation with your parents, Sirius. And she has more siblings against her.”

I clench my hands into fists.

"I want to help her, James," I say in a cracking voice.

“I want that too, Sirius. But we can't do anything, not for now.”

I walk towards the window, I see the sky waiting for some owl with news that will improve everything. A letter from her saying that everything was canceled and that she’s on her way. That she’s safe.

“I can't lose her, James. Not again.”

"You won't, mate" My friends comes over and hugs me.

"Boys?" James's father enters the room. "What's wrong?"

Fear creeps through, James's hand on my shoulder squeezes.

"They may be able to help, Padfoot.”

“Dear," says Euphemia. "What happened?"

"I don't know what to do,” I reply.

"Tell us.”

***

Persephone

"What other cards do you have up your sleeve?" I say sitting in front of my father's desk.

"You don't have an idea, little one," He says, resting his elbows on the desk.

"And I have something to do with your future plans?"

“You're the star.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Wasn't it enough for you to want to force me to kill innocent people? Organizing a wedding that I disagreed on… twice. And now you tell me that I must delay my studies to graduate with Regulus and be the happy couple that we aren’t and will never be.”

"It's something simple, but you always manage to make it all so dramatic…”

I know what his game is. He wants to break me once and for all.

"I won’t do it. I will not be one of your puppets. It works with other people, but not with me.”

“And what will you do about it? Tell Alphard Black to save you again?" He smiles. "Did you really think I wasn't going to find out?"

“Leave the Blacks alone. Forget that family, cancel the engagement.”

"Look at you, defending other people,” He laughs again. “Now you’ll tell me that you’ll do whatever it takes to make me leave them alone. Didn’t you just say you don’t want to be my puppet, dear?"

"Not everything is strategy.”

"Life is a great strategy and at this point you should know better.”

"Why don't you focus on your other children and forget about me?"

“Oh no, I could not abandon any of my children.”

"You manipulate them.”

“You are the real problem,” He stands up and circles the desk. “Listen, you will marry Regulus Black, have his heirs, and both of you will be the dark lord's most important aides. Don't worry, after all this is over and the traitors surrender, there will be nothing left of what you used to care about.”

"What do you mean?"

He puts his hands on my shoulders and squeezes hard.

“Lily Evans, Marlene Mckinnon, Jenna Parker, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter and Sirius Black… That's what I mean.”

My father returns to my desk and smiles satisfied with my reaction.

“It does not matter if you are of age, you, Persephone Amelia Singh, belong to me. You are my daughter and you must follow the orders of your true family. You cannot run away and no one can help you. Don't count on Alphard or anyone else. Your hands are tied and it will be easier if you give up now.”

After working on everything that I’ve achieved, on the new family that I have created, on everything that I’ve discovered, lost by a few simple orders. A war in the near future and I’m destined to be on the wrong side. Suffering in silence.

“No," I pull out my wand and hold it tightly. "I won’t give up. Never,” I clench my teeth and stand up. “You're no longer my family.”

Taglist:

@treestarrrrrrrr​   @siriuslysirius1107​    @madmaiden2890​ @ren-ela​  @avipshamitra   @auroraawrites @findzelda  @lizlil @siriusmuch   @chloe-geoghegan1 @reverse-hxlland  @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans @eveft  @secret-obsessions

@xkonpinkx​    @inkandpen22​   @thagreenmoon​

@littledeadgirlwalking​

@yunloyal

@bloodorangemoonlight

[the-melting-world]

Firecat

Khleo x Balam

I’m not sure what I or @atypicalacademic have gotten ourselves into, but here we go 😭😭😭 Simply treat yourself to another 0 to 100 whirlwind oc x oc ship. Thank you Kannan for letting me borrow Balam! She’s absolutely delightful!

cw: some biting

~ 1.6k words

***

The tavern saw a new handful of regulars during the week. The only reason Khleo remembered their faces was because of one in particular. There was something vibrant about her, and it wasn’t just because of her bold, shifting shawls and chirping adornments. 

Her friends called her Balam. 

On days she wore magenta bracelets, her companions referred to her as she. On days the bracelets were silver, Balam was he. 

Today, the bracelets were magenta. Yesterday they were magenta. And the day before that.

Khleo spent most of the week hanging back to wait tables and clean booths rather than working the bar. In order to watch. Try and figure out where this patron’s magnetism came from. Maybe they were partial to the features they shared with Balam – tight, bouncy curls, youthful expressions, strong cuts of the jaws that helped to undermine that innocence.

Or maybe Balam was just very good at communicating from afar. With each visit, the patron would glance more often in Khleo’s direction. One time while Khleo was mopping a corner, they tested their theory with a very subtle flex of their arms as they slid the mop forward. Khleo looked over at Balam just before curling their biceps towards them. They flicked the mop and did it again, training their gaze to be coincidental, bland.

Balam had already been looking. But then she looked away. Not completely. Only briefly, to collect herself. She came back with a more confident gaze, working those dark lashes and her decorative brown skin to practically beam a lump into Khleo’s throat. 

This Balam, whoever she was, knew exactly what she was doing despite how subtle she went about it. And it made Khleo itching to pounce.

But it was late and the tavern was full of dinner patrons that night. So Khleo filed all that pouncy, gimme nonsense away for some other time. Then they put their assessment of Balam to rest, and got back to work.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before Khleo’s coworkers required their pouncing services. A fight had broken out and neither side was backing down. Khleo didn’t bother to see who was involved, they just jumped in. They didn’t waste their breath shouting at people to calm down like the other barhands. Their method of de-escalation was to remove the biggest threat. 

Tonight that happened to be the fiery, vibrant Balam. Khleo ignored the small hiccup between their thighs as they made an attempt to unhinge a glass that Balam was about to chuck at a nearby patron.

But Balam was slippery and still charged even though the rest were starting to calm down. She snatched her arm back from Khleo before they could get a good grip and danced backwards like a reanimated puppet. 

“Don’t make me chase you,” Khleo warned, their voice bored and unhurried despite the persistent thorniness they were dealing with elsewhere.

Balam ran. Khleo cursed under their breath and pursued. 

It was a wonder Balam was so fast with all those shawls and patchwork prints that clung to her lithe form. Khleo snarled when they saw where Balam was trying to run off to – the basement.

< Do you need some help? >

~ No, Hefe. I got this. ~

Khleo booked it faster than ever now, leaping over chairs, scrambling across countertops, ruining family dinners. Their boss was going to kill them.

They hoped it was all worth it when they finally caught up to Balam, slamming into her and pinning her down easily. The angry patron roared and thrashed like her whole body was on fire. But Khleo was ready to shut it down.

“You think you’re real cute, don’t you?”

Balam’s eyes were still unfocused and brimming wet rage. “Let go of me, you...”

Khleo jostled her. “Go ahead. Tell me what you think of me.”

By the time their gazes connected, Balam was blushing.

“Thought so. You can’t even say it.”

Balam exploded. “Overgrown housecat!” 

Khleo laughed. “Excuse me? If I’m a housecat, then what the hell are you?”

Balam’s eyes were dead serious. “A tiger.”

Khleo was enjoying themself, tracking the way Balam’s extremes entered and left her body so quickly. They felt the shift in the tension of Balam’s limbs too. It didn’t help to dampen their fire, but felt good all the same.

“A tiger cub maybe,” Khleo mused. “So tell me, cub. Why’d you have to go start shit in my bar? Day’s been hard enough as it is.”

Balam apparently had it in her to throw another tantrum.

“They started it! You’re telling me you’d back down if–” 

“It’s always someone else’s fault, isn’t it?” Khleo said quietly. “How about you demonstrate a little self control next time?”

 Balam hopelessly thrashed under Khleo’s weight. “I do have self control!”

“Oh yeah? Then show me now.”

Khleo made sure Balam’s wrists were secured above her head before dropping very close.

“Let’s see how long you last.”

Khleo coasted over Balam’s features, her nose ring, wide black eyes, her mouth – everything was magnified. Khleo took it all in, climbing that familiar high that moments like these always catapulted her to. That edge of giving in and holding still. That silence before a true strike. They could tell by the way Balam followed them that the cub knew nothing of that place. Never tasted that warm, hidden middle ground. Insanity’s hidden trapdoor. Tight and snug. Nowhere near cozy, but safe. Antidotal. 

“My name is Balam.”

Khleo ignored the distraction. 

“I know.”

Balam tried to snatch a kiss, but the barhand ducked their head over and down, latching onto the exposed shoulder peeking out from the shawls. Balam’s harsh cry echoed through the cavernous space.

“Quiet,” Khleo licked their lips and raised their head. “I didn’t even bite you that hard.”

They sat up straighter, deepening their seat, still holding Balam’s wrists.

“You want to be so bad... but you don’t come close. I’ve been exactly where you are.”

Balam’s eyes burned like black fire. “And look how much you’ve improved and moved up in the world. Congratulations, bartender of the year.”

Khleo kept their tone flat, but their grin wicked.

“A major improvement from where I came from, believe me. Look Tiger, you’re not going to find any low-hanging fruit,” Khleo made sure to gently grind against Balam’s leg for emphasis. They were satisfied to see her eyes threaten to roll back. “So I suggest that you quit trying to go for low blows while you’re ahead.”

The fire had finally gone out. Now it was replaced by water. Khleo let go of Balam’s wrists. 

“You need to cry, then cry.”

They started to get up, but Balam’s hands captured her thighs. “Wait.”

Khleo arched an eyebrow. 

“Can you… just stay right there for a bit?”

Khleo didn’t laugh or mock the patron in any way. The barhand anchored their weight against Balam’s abdomen and allowed her to process her emotions with dignity. When she was done, Khleo helped her to her feet and said, “Go out through the back door. Don’t come back here for a few days. It’ll give my boss some time to forget tonight. That way he’ll be less likely to ban you from the tavern.”

Balam hadn’t stopped staring at Khleo since she got to her feet. “What should I call you when I return?”

Khleo folded her arms over her chest. “Call me Khlee, Khleo, whatever you want.”

The patron sniffed one last time, and glanced toward the door. She moved as if she might go to it.

Khleo wasn’t gentle this time. They used their strength to their advantage as they snatched Balam back until she crashed right where Khleo wanted her. Then they engaged both their arms, locking her in and kissing her the way they wanted to when they had her pinned down earlier. As if Khleo desired nothing else than to see how much they could take, and take, and take some more.

What Khleo didn’t expect, however, was how eager Balam was to give. She fed Khleo her lips, her tongue, her moans like they were such an untimely burden that she was, by the gods, absolutely compelled to share– 

“Enough.” Khleo growled softly. The command was more meant for themself than Balam, but they were careful not to give anything away. When they opened their eyes and looked into Balam’s, they found that her expression was a rare breed of tame. It was the sort of docility that tugged at a different set of strings in Khleo, unlocking a new singularity of primal intention within them.

The way Balam quietly looked at the barhand, in reverence and easy obedience…. Khleo felt the need to flex a set of claws that they didn’t have. Dig them into Balam where it was too shallow for their own blunted teeth to pierce. To keep her somehow? From what, Khleo wasn’t sure.

“Mm.” Khleo’s throat rumbled, “You’ve got a lot of fire in you. I had to see what that tasted like…” they looked pointedly at the spot where they bit Balam. “Again.” Then they let the patron go. “Now get out of here.”

Khleo gave Balam a gentle push. Once again, she surprised the barhand by skipping away on light feet towards the exit. It seemed Balam couldn’t leave without the last word. Halfway out the door, she captured Khleo’s gaze one last time. “You taste of fire too.”

Khleo shrugged. “So?”

Balam smiled as she nodded sagely. “And of flowers. Wild ones. Daisies.”

Khleo was thankful for the dim light. Her face burned from Balam’s unexpected saccharine tongue. 

“You better get going, Tiger.”

Balam wasn’t finished. She leaned her head against the doorframe and batted those damn eyelashes again. “I’ll bring some for you, Firecat. Next time.” Her anklets chirped as she finally slipped out of the cave of brick and mortar and onto the street. 

Khleo stared at the door long after she had gone. She thought about Balam’s journey from the wrathful to the rational and back again.

Hefe emerged from out of the hearth. Illuminating the underground lair with her sheer size and pale, creamy coat, she became a lighthouse to call back Khleo’s drifting thoughts. 

< Firecat. That’s a new one. >

[bloodieash]

Oc trope challenge Feb 4th- Everyone can see it

“You haven’t been the same since you go back.” Mai said, and from anyone else it would have sounded like an accusation. From Mai it sounded like a comment on the weather.

“Just thinking about some things.” Zuko answered.

“Like Emiko?”

“Don’t say her name!” Zuko snapped. Flames flared on his hands, but he quickly smothered them. After everything that had happened in Ba Sing Se, in the crystal catacombs, he couldn’t hear her name. Even if she had once been Mai and Ty Lee’s friend.

“What happened between you?”

“Why are you so concerned?” Mai didn’t care about anyone, least of all the airbending traitor to the Fire Nation.

“Emiko helped me realize some things years ago. I just want to return the favor.”

“You can’t return the favor if she’s not here.”

Mai stepped closer, her side nearly pressed against Zuko’s, her hand against his arm. For some reason it irritated Zuko. “Yes, I can. By making you realize a few things.”

Zuko’s heart thudded in his chest. He did realize something, with the way Mai had her head tilted it looked like they were having an intimate conversation, like Mai was going to kiss him.

“That hollow feeling in your chest,” Mai started, hand slipping from Zuko’s arm to his chest. “That’s her absence. She’s been a part of you for so long that her not being by your side is physical pain, like you’ve been gutted.”

“I don’t feel that.”

“Of course not. Just like you don’t love her or anything.”

Emiko sat on the furthest end of Appa the flying bison as she could get without falling off. She didn’t have Little Guy to catch her if she fell. She didn’t have anything anymore.

Katara passed Aang over to Sokka before turning to glare at Emiko. “You did this!” She shouted.

“What?” The f- “Azula did this.”

“You’re all the same.”

“Excuse you?” She was no where near Azula’s level. Azula had spent over a decade in her own head listening to Ozai’s poison.

“Zuko betrayed us in the catacombs. He could have stopped Azula, but he decided to join her.”

“He’s just confused.” Emiko argued, but her heart wasn’t in it. Not after what had happend in the catacombs.

Katara scoffed. “You love him. Of course you’d defend him.”

Azula looked down at the box in front of her. The puppet chest. Of course Zuzu would take as many mementos as possible from his little airbender. She’d seen the way he kept the baby bison close. She’d tried in the catacombs to convince him that Emiko was betraying him. She’d thought she’d succeeded, knew that Zuko had hurt Emiko badly, burned her. But it seemed his love for her was too strong. Azula would have to do something about that.

Sokka took Emiko’s hand and led her away from the rest of the group. He told them they were going shopping.

“You know I’m a wanted woman in the Fire Nation.” Emiko pointed out, but she didn’t pull her hand out of Sokka’s.

“The only thing on your wanted poster is a picture of that mark on your shoulder and ever since the crystal catacombs…” Sokka trailed off. Emiko touched her shoulder with her free hand. “I know I shouldn’t have mentioned it, but that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Emiko looked down at the ground. Her hand felt so small in Sokka’s. Sokka tightened his grip, not wanting to lose his new friend.

“I told you. I hold no loyalty to the fire nation.” Emiko looked up, eyes blazing. “My loyalty lies with the Avatar now. Only with him and his cause.”

“But your heart lies with Zuko.”

Emiko flinched.

Toph might have been blind, but she saw more than most people. Like the tension in the air. Everyone stood in a semi open area of the Western Air Temple. Emiko’s heart was trying to beat right out of her chest. So was Zuko’s on the other side of the area.

Toph was familiar with the beats of Emiko’s heart. She knew the way it got, the way it would speed up seemly for no reason and keep that pace for days. Zuko though, he was a new variable. His heart could have just been beating that hard because of nerves. After all he was facing the team he’d chased all around the world and asking to join them.

Wait, no, now it was beating harder. Holy shit, he was as in love with Emiko as Emiko was in love with him.

[ktheist]

bleed the same red | m

synopsis. they raised you to defend the weak. yet you fell for the one thing that preys on them.

alternatively, you had one job.

muses. pureblood!jimin x huntress!reader

tropes. starcrossed soulmates | e2l

words. 1.5k

warnings. rated m for depiction of death. (but no character death!)

x

the pain from jimin pushing you against the wall sears through your body before it numbs. his lips latch onto the delicate skin on your neck, just above your shoulder.

“must you do this every damn time?” you hiss, nails digging into the pristine white dress shirt that clings to his perfectly sculpted body.

“if i have to wait another day - i’ll die,” the tip of his fangs grazes your skin ever so lightly as he speaks, refusing to let any space between his mouth and your body, “i swear death is a much more merciful than you, huntress.”

you shiver at the name he calls you. bestowed by the highest priest of the temple at only the age of five right after their men tore your village down and burned the houses in search for the child of prophecy - it was god’s will, they told you.

as they had told you many things. a child whose eyes shine brighter than the red moon they oh-so-devoted themselves to. warm blood coursing through her veins compared to the stilled stream in jimin’s kinds.

you looked just like the creatures you were destined to kill.

but somewhere along the line, that child began to stray from the light. drawn to the darkness as though it was home.

“would you like that?” the tips of your nails dig into jimin’s throat - if he could breath, you would have felt him inhale sharply, perhaps, “to join your brothers and sisters that i’ve slaughtered?”

jimin raises his head. not because he’s afraid of you puncturing his airways and turning him into ashes. but because he wants to look you in your blood red eyes - he wants you to say it to his face.

“will you kill the other half of yourself?” his voice is hot and cold at the same time. as though he’s threatening you for offering him eternal slumber and yet begging you to end the centuries he’s lived, “you were just a puppet when i found you. with strings and threads and without a soul.”

something in the pit of your stomach bursts into flames. before you know it, your palms are on his chest, sending him flying across the rickety walls of the old shed. dust fills the air from his pathetic land on the ground.

jimin laughs - it’s purely reactionary. an admittance of your superior strength. you share the same soul but you do not share the same abilities-

“there’s no other like me.” the words pour out of your mouth like a script. you struggle to push the bile down as the priest’s leering smile flashes at the back of your head. you swore you’d never be like them - yet here you are, repeating the words they told you as though you actually believe it.

but then again, they weren’t lying.

“of course, there isn’t.” he agrees too easily, head leaned back against the wall he just slid down from. he doesn’t make any attempt to stand up. legs splayed on the ground just like a puppet who needed its master to make him move, “otherwise, i wouldn’t have lived so many lives. wandering the face of the earth. questioning my existence only to find it in you - and yet you, my other half, refuse me.”

“in that many centuries you’ve lived, you killed millions of humans!” your voice heightens with every step you take towards him. body heating up like the sun.

he lets out a breath - something between a chuckle and a scoff. “don’t act so self-righteous. you would have too if you were born a pureblood.”

the point of your heels bumps against the sole of his shoes as you stop in front of him. you see his heart inside his chest. cold. unbeating. lifeless. while yours ache when you mourn for the lives of your parents and palpitates with every leap across the branches while you chase after one of his kind.

you’re alive but jimin is not.

“i rather die than be born as one of you.” this time, the temple didn’t teach you this. despite their motives, they still raised you to cherish life. a gift from god.

“there you go again, acting all high and mighty.” his lips curls over his fangs as his smiles. it’s wicked and ratchet and oh-so-stunning. “yet you take lives too. what? do the lives of humans have more value over those more different? i won’t say lesser, no, if anything, we are more superior.”

you lower yourself in between his legs but none of your body parts touches the dusty ground. no words form in your throat. it’s true, what he said. the temple had showed you the polished side of the coin but thwarted your tiny little hands away when you reach for it. fearful of the corroded side you might find.

that was why, when jimin, once upon a blood moon, came to you with eyes blazing as red as your own and a scent as sweet as honey, you had slipped your hand into his and let him defile you.

child of the temple.

huntress.

no more.

you lean into jimin’s hand that caresses your cheek. he could lower it to your neck and snap it in half. and you don’t think you would mind. because just like him, you fear a life without the other half of your soul in it.

“so pretty, my little huntress.” he coos, if there is a thing called love then the it’s the deep shade of ruby in jimin’s eyes.

his love is as cold as the enchanted silver of your dagger. it’s pierced your heart one too many times and you’re left with scars all over your body.

but his love is also everlasting.

engraved in the cosmos - the same cosmos that surrendered his death in your hands.

“i want it.” you murmur under your breath, knowing that his senses could at least catch that. no matter how weak he is - how weak the pureblooded are compared to you, they’re still stronger than humans, “your blood. i want it all.”

jimin doesn’t object. he simply brings his wrist to his lips, grazing his fangs over his fair skin. that’s when his sweet scent overwhelms you - the scent of his blood is like no other. but you don’t have fangs the way he does - you have to ask for blood when all he needs to do is kiss your pretty little neck as a warning and dig his fangs into your bloodstreams.

he watches you wrap your mouth over the wound, tongue lapping at the incisions he’d created all the while your eyes hold his. that’s the thing about jimin - he lets you take however much you want, wound him however way you wish and he’d never groan or moan in complaint. even when he’s on the brink of dying from not having a drop of your blood in weeks, he still puts your wishes before his needs. ever since he met you, no blood of humans nor nymphs (the second most delectable blood) could satisfy him. it has to be you.

perhaps it’s because of that, your hand goes to your neck, pushing your hair back to expose your neck. wordlessly, you break the contact, lashes fluttering as you keep them half-closed.

it’s five second later that you feel him shift closer to you but still managing not to move his wrist so much while you feed on him. another second for him to litter butterfly kisses all over your neck before he sinks his fangs into you.

the discomfort sears across your shoulder and knocks on your skull like a headache. but it’s nothing compared to the injuries you’ve sustained in your time as huntress.

“you taste divine, huntress.” he purrs, waves of gratification rolling off his tongue as he wipes the corners of his lips on the back of his head. it may just be wishful thinking, to have your soul woven to a living lover instead of a beatless hearted one, but you think you see the colors coming back to him. cheeks dusted pink. complexion a little less pale. and there’s more tone to his lips but that could have been your blood.

“___.” you say, heart clenching at the name your foster parents gifted you. it’s been awhile since anyone’s- “call me by my name.” 

jimin’s lips curl into a smile - not a sneer, nor a smirk but a complacent smile as he pushes your hair out of your face, “have you finally accepted a savage murderer as the other half of your soul?” rather than contempt, his words are spoken with so much serenity, you have to take a moment to digest it.

“no,” you stand up, foregoing the featherlight touch of his fingerpads. “but i swear on my name, for as long as i’m alive, you will not have to murder anyone for blood.”

his smile tilts wider just the slightest. there’s a knowing glint in his eyes before he nods to himself.

“___,” unlike his love, your name is spoken with so much warmth, you almost forgot his inborn nature, “your eyes are red. like the moon.”

x

note. jimin’s telling oc that that’s love. bc remember his ‘love’ eye is deep red? oc’s is bright red - like the moon!!

anyways, thank you for reading. hope you enjoyed it!

[bittybattybunny]

Alright, one, who is Hana and how does she tie into Excalibur's past, two, how is Mira a kishin risk and why was she locked up, three, the fact that despite not knowing how to read Mira has Excalibur's legend memorized is adorable, four, don't thknk I didn't see the Penndragon earlier, I just didn't think much about it at the time, and five, WHY DID EXCALIBUR REPRESS ALL THE EMOTIONS SINCE HE WAS 19 THAT IS THE OPPOSITE OF HEALTHY!?!? UNTIL HE STARTS HANDLING EMOTIONS BETTER HE'S TRASH SWORD!!!!

Hana is an old one who currently is at the dwma teaching the NOT class because she's able to mitigate anyone's soul wavelength so she uses it to help the students out. She actually poses as a man while teaching using a pair of enchanted glasses. (the fact she is an old one is kept secret. She doesn’t want people knowing who she is. She’s only at the DWMA because she wanted to be near Shinigami-Sama and Death the Kid)

She was part of the 8 warlords, that's how she knows Excalibur

Tbh Hana has more to do with my shinigami and kid hcs but she provides a good venting spot and voice of reason for Merlin. She's a real mom friend. But she doesn't beat around the bush either. She's also the only one who actively calls Excalibur Merlin

I don't have much art of Hana but here's an old pic of her without her glasses on

I do have a small snippet of her chiding Merlin for being a dumbass:

“Mira won’t give me kisses anymore!” he sighed, “I think I made her angry somehow. Ever since I went back to human she just. Doesn’t seem to want to be as close.” he sighed heavily and covered his head.

Hana stared, “Mira adores you why do you think otherwise?” she sat in her chair and removed her glasses. Her features softened as she shifted her coat, her shadow arm appearing as she took out some papers.

“As I said, she won’t kiss me anymore! And she’s barely holding my hand. She seems just. Afraid…”

“You’re a handsome young looking man and the holy sword, she most likely thinks you’re too good for a potential kishin.” she chewed on her pen as she worked, “Merlin, as for the other point, the kisses. Have you forgotten something?”

“Like what?” he looked at her with tear-stained eyes.

She sighed, “Okay, so let’s do a little reminiscing. Do you recall Shin and I’s relationship?”

“How could I not?’ he scowled, “how’s this…”

“Do you remember how bleeding tall Shin is in his actual form? Rather just him or his damn puppet.” she raised a hand. She stood up and drew a diagram on the board, “We kissed a lot. Obviously. And you know what I had to do? Pull his damn side pieces so I could reach.” she sketched Mira and Merlin on the board and tapped her chalk above Mira’s head, “Notice any similarities?”

He paled before he turned bright red, “I um.. I’m not the shortest man alive.”

“Correct. Mira most likely isn’t sure HOW to go about dealing with a human of your caliber.” she drew his smaller form, “Mira is used to toting around a weird deformed penguin who weighed like, what, you weighed maybe 50 pounds soaking wet?”

“I think I weighed about 30.” he frowned, “Considerably less than now…”

“Mmhm. So consider, if you want kisses.” she slammed her hands on the desk making the man flinch, “why don’t you kiss her yourself?”

He paused and thought about it, his dark eyes growing wide, “ah… I can.. Can’t I…” he got up, “Thanks Hana!” he waved and ran off.

She sighed and put her glasses back on and sat down. “What a Fool.”

That is actually explained in chapter one so I'm gonna leave you in the dark for now. Mira being a kishin risk is one of the main driving plot reasons she's allowed to pair with Excalibur because he's a holy weapon and purifies. She was locked up because she's a kishin risk and crimes she committed

This is old as well but you can see Mira’s soul has some issues (also some of my other soul eater ocs whoops) (you can also see Merlin’s actual height compared to mira thus proving Hana’s point above Mira is only like 5 feet tall):

Mira is a very soft girl but her swordfighting skills are unmatched. She's been raised as a weapon to the point her father literally calls her his little sword. The girl has a deep love of swords and it's been instilled in her since she was small

Mira's mom used to read it to her often as she had a special fondness for the arthurian legend. Mira's last name is actually chosen by her mother since her mother's last name wasn't a real last name and her father didn't really want to have mira attached to him so she was named penndragon!! Excalibur also notes this and gets a little hopeful she’s king arthurs descendant (she isn’t. but she’s still related to the arthurian legend just not how he ever thought possible)

He was 19 when he met arthur and worked as a wizard. He thought emotions got in the way of his actions and started to repress them and when he was the sword all sensations were numbed so he further repressed them.

He gets a lot better namely cuz he sees how worried his meister is. He lets himself cry, get mad, be protective etc. He even has to deal with being a lil jealous but it's dealt with cuz end of the day mira adores him most of all and he relishes in it.

He also is aware he’s a bit unbalanced now that he’s back to letting his emotions out.

[geeky-introvert]

I’m Here III . Ivar X OC

Summary: Gertrud and Ivar have been plotting to overthrow Oleg but they had to continue to be very careful. With Hvitserk back with Ivar, working with Dir in secret and the war coming to invade back into Scandinavia, it was only a matter of time....Third and final part.

Word count: 2010

Warning: Death, language and fluff.

Tag list: @lisinfleur​ @mdlady​ @didiintheblog​ @alicedopey​ @rekdreams247​​ @mblaqgi​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @aphnxrising​ @happydaysandersen​ @therealcalicali​ @naaladareia​ @inforapound​ @captstefanbrandt​ @waiting4inspiration​ @tabalugax​ @p8tn0lish​ @igetcarriedawaywithyou​ @laketaj24​ @darlingp​ @tephi101​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @lordsexmachine​ @wonderlandofsu​ @alwaysbenhardysgirl​ @sparklemichele​ @ivaraddict​

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

Gif credit to me.

It felt so long that they both had to continue to play along, to stay on Oleg’s good side just until the war was won before they made their move. Gertrud felt so anxious to drive a blade in the back of Oleg’s back, twisting it and letting him feel the same pain she felt in her heart for all he’s done not just to her but to Ivar and their twins.

It was a bit surprising to have Hvitserk joining his brother again, after finding him in such a bad way and being banished from Kattegat, for killing Lagertha. She had no sympathy, in fact she was proud of him for finally dealing with that murderer.

She had missed him though, he was always a favourite of Ivar’s brothers. To see him meeting his niece and nephew for the first time brought joy to her heart, seeing both him and the twins having fun together brought a smile to her.

Then there was Igor, a child who turned out to be the empire, a whole title but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the boy. The poor thing has been through a lot, forced into things and being taken by Oleg to raise and manipulate to become the perfect ruler in his image. What was good though was Igor enjoyed spending time with them, and grew a fond bond with Ivar, almost like a father. He even liked to spend time with her and she embraced the boy like a mother would. All he needed was just parents to love him, to live as a child and enjoy as much of it as he could. In a way they have helped him too and tried to keep Oleg’s twisted words away from his young ears.

It wasn’t long after they helped Oleg’s brother, Dir, escape from such a cruel imprisonment that Oleg started to become a little more paranoid about who to trust but seemed to continue to trust Ivar, but not her. He was smart to not trust her and she wasn’t surprised. But being married to Ivar his hands were tied as he needed to get Ivar as king again in Kattegat.

After winter has passed it was spring, and also time to set out to invade Scandinavia. Gertrud wanted to join, to fight, but of course much more she wanted to keep the twins safe and that wasn’t the only thing keeping her from not going.

“Be safe, my love.” She kissed Ivar and pressed her forehead against his own just as they were all about to leave. Once she got word they’ll make their way to join them for their celebration, and for the rest of their plan to take place as well.

“I will, my darling wife.” Ivar whispered kissing her a second time before embracing the twins. “You both be good for your mother now, keep her happy and safe, won’t you?”

“We will, papa.” Yrsa and Ulf answer at the same time before standing around my legs.

Once Ivar had stood back up again she smiled and caressed his face. “We’ll be together again, I promise. We need you.” She then moved his hand down to her flat belly, silently telling him of the news through her eyes with a warm smile.

“You’re with child?” Ivar was shocked as his eyes swelled suddenly.

“I am, and this time you won’t miss out on anything for our third child, I promise.”

Ivar let out a beaming smile and kissed her passionately. He was so happy, and hated to be leaving her and his children like this but it won’t be for long.

No matter what they’ll always be together, as a family.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Once word was given that the battle was won Gertrud took the twins and made their way towards Kattegat with a few of Oleg’s guards. Of course, she expected nothing else, which is why there was a plan unknown by them.

Once they were halfway the ambush was given. Each of Oleg’s men were taken out. She could’ve done it, sure, but she had the kids to worry about and made sure they didn’t see what happened. Dir’s men then came and she went with them so hse could speak to Dir and let him know about what was happening.

He had healed well, scarred for life but least he was alive and strong.

Gertrud and Dir spoke for a while before some of his warriors changed uniforms and led her back to Kattegat. Everything was planned, it was only a matter of time.

By the time we got there everyone was still celebrating their victory. Entering the hall I smiled seeing Ivar and both Ulf and Yrsa ran up to him and Hvitserk.

“I’m so happy to see you both well.” I say coming closer and kissing Ivar. “Everything is in place, just as we planned.” I say about Dir, but still carrying on as if it was meant about all of this happening around us.

“Just as we planned.” He says back smiling  before hugging the twins.

Sitting down together for the feast I kept a close eye on the twins as they played with Igor. This was indeed a time to celebrate, but my mind was too focused on what was to happen soon at the right signal.

While Oleg had his back turned I whispered to a thrall, one I had learned to trust and promised her freedom if she kept the children safe. She nodded and headed over to them, staying close at their side.

“My friends! This is a glorious moment for us!” Oleg shouted, spilling his mead everywhere. “We won the war! They fear us! They flee from us! We conquered!”

The room erupted with more cheers and she joined, blending in before Oleg looked at her, a blank stare, as he’s done before while she smiled in return, showing everything was fine.

“Glad you could join us for this victory, Gertrud.” He says sitting down with them in front of her. He never liked her, she knew this, and she never liked him.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.” She answers before taking a drink from her mead.

“Tell me, how is my brother?”

She held his stare as Ivar and Hvitserk looked at him as well. Looks like the moment was about to happen. Of course they couldn’t keep this away from him, he had ears and eyes everywhere, they weren’t even surprised that he knew something was up.

“Whatever do you mean? How should I know?” She asked, still playing along.

“You know exactly what I mean, you sneaky bitch.”

“Don’t call my wife that.” Ivar said back defending her.

“I’ll call her whatever I please.” Oleg looked like he had her cornered, that he had the upper hand, the king, but he was wrong about that. “Your wife here has betrayed us both by coming here with my brother’s warriors. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

So that was all he knew, he thought only she was behind it all, not Ivar.

“You’re crazy and paranoid.” Gertrud smirks at him. “And drunk.”

Suddenly Oleg throws everything off the table and everyone goes quiet, his men getting ready to take her prisoner and to stop Ivar and Hvitserk from getting in their way. However she didn’t even flinch and held her stare at him, unaffected by his actions.

“I knew you were trouble the second I saw you.” He snarls down resting his hands against the table. “You women are all the same, snakes, vipers, just fucking cunts! Take her to the cells, I’ll deal with her later.”

In the moment, before Ivar could defend her further, shouts and blades hitting together were heard coming from outside, confusing Oleg and making Gertrud smirk more.

Looking at her children she watched as they were taken in the back by the thrall before the front doors burst open, and Dir’s men charged in, slashing their way through. Ivar and Hvitserk joined in against Oleg’s men, attacking them now while Oleg stood there staring at the scene unfolding, confused and baffled. Silently she came up behind him, blade him hand and suddenly drove the dagger into his neck, holding him there and bringing her lips against his ear while he choked on his blood.

“Not only did you kill Hilja, but Vigrid as well, and many other people you simply didn’t like. You won’t hurt anyone anymore, you foul monster. No one is going to miss you.”

Turning him around she pulled the blade out them, blood splattering against her face while he stumbled backwards trying to stop the blood, but it was useless. She watched, satisfied as he fell to the ground with blood spilled everywhere, bleeding out before becoming lifeless.

The remaining of Oleg’s men were killed and some surrendered, taken as prisoners. It was all over then, so fast. Ivar came up beside her, helping clean some of the blood from her face and giving her a warm smile.

“I’m proud of you, my love.” His words made her smile before she kissed him.

“Thank you. I’m proud of you as well. You no longer need to be his puppet, you’re free and we’re home again. Kattegat is yours, my love.”

“Ours. Kattegat is ours.” He repeated and pressed his forehead against her own.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As the months passed by Ivar and Gertrud became king and queen together. He finally decided to not go after those who followed Bjorn, now that he was dead, as was Lagertha, he saw no need to send fear throughout the lands more.

Dir returned to Kiev with Igor, to teach him to become a better emperor as trades were agreed to as well. They missed them, and held faith that he will indeed become a good leader for his people and lands.

Gertrud was heavily pregnant, just like she was with the twins which made her question about this pregnancy but she stayed silent about it not wanting to get excited over nothing.

When the time came it was a struggle like the first, but she had a lot of support from everyone including Ivar right at her side while Hvitserk took care of Ulf and Yrsa.

It was a painful and anxious wait, fear only growing more the longer it went on. Then finally the midwife saw the head and helped deliver the baby, within moments the second baby followed, two crying infants and giving Gertrud a moment to rest as they were cleaned and wrapped after Ivar cut their cords, still in shock.

“We have twins again…” He whispered looking down at his wife, proud of her.

“Yes…” She panted softly. “Twins….another two mouths to feed.” She joked lightly, already loving the two of them so much.

The midwife and a thrall finally brought them both over and letting them settle against their mothers chest, cooing and looking around curiously, bright blue eyes and blonde hair. “Another boy and girl.” Gertrud was so proud of what the gods have given them. “They’re so beautiful. Can we name them both what we agreed on?” They already knew.

“Yes, of course, it only fits them both well.” Ivar says tracing his finger over one of their chubby cheeks with a smile.

“I had hoped you would say that.” Looking back down at them, she kissed each of their heads. “They live on in both of you, our sweet children. Hilja and Vigrid.”

At that moment Yrsa and Ulf came running in not able to wait any longer to meet the surprise that waited for them. Hvitserk stood by the door, smiling proudly at his little brother and his family. They were indeed a whole family, together, never parted again.

[shortpirateking]

2,11

Ja(*reeees in confusion and how to come up with good qualities*)

2. What’s 3 things your f/o likes about you?

I have....literally no idea- especially on specific F/o’s... I guess for the general it’d be creativity, adventurous, and silly???

11. Free pass to gush about your f/o

Okay so!!! I have many many many *MANY* f/o’s- all from different fandoms and even to a few of my friend’s oc’s!! so it’s hard to list every single one but I am ABSOLUTELY going to list many of them with a little ramble(and the fandom because sO MANY CHARACTERS. (not counting transformers characters, book characters, or Oc’s/ readers for the sake of space)

Dark Crystal(first ofc)

SkekTek: oh do I LOVE this boy!!! His intelligence, his backstory!! I just wish to hold him close, protect him from the world and go on a vacation with him and Sidetic!!!

SkekVar: Originally I wasn’t so fond of him- but his dumb himbo self has grown on me- i remember having a dream a long time ago of the skeksis turning human after saving thra(long plotline) and becoming like teasing partners who playfought a lot. I wantthis still.

SkekGra and Urgoh: They’re just!!!! So sweet!!! I want to snuggle with them, make puppet shows together with them and just enjoy being hermits!!!!

UrVa: Husband material?? yes?? His voice is amazing and i just want to be wrapped in his arms in the forest, learn archery and!!! AAAHSUAIHSA

SkekMal: Scary forest man who shits in the woods with a dark and sexy voice??? sign me tf UP *So many things i’d do with this feral lad*

UrSol: I just....love him so much- I want to snuggle, spoil, tease, and sing with him. 

UrTih: I would do ANYTHING to make him blush, embarrass him then snuggle him as he hides his face. UrTih is mY LAD

UrSan: She’s literally a mermaid and she’s so!!! PRETTY I’M SO GAY FOR HER

SkekSa: EVEn GAYER FOR thIS  LASS HOLY SHIT SHE COULD STEP ON ME AND I’D THANK HER DUOIS

SkekLi: As a musical/history/folklore nerd. I’d kill to sit by a fire, sing folk songs and tell stories, make up our own plays, and just...enjoy being silly without the worry of being ridiculed.

SkekShod(Sorry shroom-): My??? My love?? I want to give this Skeksis my treasure chest of shiny rocks- I want to hold him close, love and kiss him- if he ever told me he loved me i’d *melt*

Assassin’s Creed

Ezio Auditore: he is *beyond* handsome- and good golly is he just!!! PERFECT. He has so much character development- i just want to learn Italian, follow his adventures and see all the things he has seen!!! (and befriend all of his friends)

Yusuf Tazim: Turkish lad??? Dorky, and just so silly??? yes??? I just....want to run through Istanbul with him---

Federico Auditore: HE WAS ONLY ALIVE FOR LIKE 5 MINUTES OF GAMEPLAY BUT I WANT TO MARRY HIM OK

Altair Ibn La-ahad: Oh boy have I had so mANY DAYDREAMS WITH THIS MAN. I’d kill to have the frenemies to lovers romance with him, aid him in his quests, become his right hand man and just....Share life with him and Maria- being the weird aunt of Darim and Sef

Malik Al-Sayf: SAME HERE WITH MALIK. I just...want to grow up with him and Kadar, learn to be an assassin with them and just- help him through his grief, change the course of time- or if not, be there for Tazim as he grows.

Charles Vane: I have literally no reason to like this man, but I do. 

Anne Bonney and Mary Reed: Amazing tough pirate gorls who kick ass and take names- what is there to NOT love?!?!?! (I just want to flirt and love on both of them- and many other NSFW things)

The Hobbit/Lotr

Aragorn: a king and warrior, strong and brave- and just!!! iosjdisada

Boromir: I really feel bad for this lad- he was merely a mortal, and sacrificed so much to regain his honor... I wish I could have saved him- or gave him comfort-

Bofur: He is the life of the party and I want nothing more than to dance on a table with him while singing at the top of our lungs. 10/10 best friends as lovers

Bifur: I want nothing more than to learn Khuzdul, speak with him and just...hold hands as I watch him make such intricate toys, see both that wild side and gentle side. 

Nori: I just like his stupid starfish hair and shenanigans okay??? he’s a little shithead thief

Kili: babbi boi....babi

Tauriel: Strong independent woman??? Red hair??? badass?? I don’t care that she wasn’t in the book, I WANT HER HAND IN MARRIAGE

Marble Hornets

Tim Wright: husband?? I would have loved to hold him- before all went to shit- i’d love to be in a poly/open relationship with him, Jay and Brian(brian we’d share, but Jay would be is(As he is CANON GAY AND I’VE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY BEFORE MY HC WAS RIGHT)

Alex Kralie: Honestly was probably an adorable dork before the sickness got to him- I still love the bad ending @probably-rabid and I roleplayed before-

Arata Kangatari(manga is the best)

Kannagi I just- love his character arc so much!!! even afterwards he’s such a dORK AND I LOVE HIM

Yorunami: Okay look- we both went through so much from our parents- so much trauma. I wish to hold him and help him to let go, to forgive but understand that doesn’t mean he has to excuse behavior.

Isora: He went through so much...so much... he didn’t deserve anything that he got, like at all... the fact he turned evil is not a surprise at all- i would have too...I just wish I could love on him, allow him to know there is love.

Eto: He’s such a good big brother....I just...want to love him... so much

Kuroshitsuji: 

Hannah Anafeloz: She was my first gay crush I can remember(then again I can’t remember too much of my childhood at all so-) and I love her so much-

Claude Faustus: I fucking hate him- and yet I love him sso sosososo much(Legit he is more of a yandere f/o and I rEEEE)

Herman Greenhill: Idc what happened in the manga- Often daydreamed about getting into Weston high and just... having him question his sexuality(As I’d be presenting as male the entire time) and just--- !!!!

Wolfram Gelzer: Big bad guy who learned to love?? Like!!! He is so sweet!!! big scary Germany teddy bear. 10/10 would snuggle. Also I love sullivan so we’d team up to tease the crap out of him

Gregory Violet: emo boi...likes black and cloaks. He is my goth boi and just...I want to draw with him- save him from Bravat along with the others- and other things that are plot related

Lawrence Bluer: Same for him-and I love how he is! I feel like he’d be a blushing nerd sometimes- but also be calm and collected. gOD I JUST WANT TO HOLD HIS HAND AS WE SHARE A BOOK

The Triplets(thompson, timber, and canterbury): I have no reason to love them- yet i do.

Agni: *incoherent screaming and sobbing as I recall what happened* HE DESERVED SO MUCH AND I LOVE HIMMMMMMMMMMMM

Snake: Babbi boi...babbi pt 2- I love him so much- he was my first ever cosplay, tricked my uncle into naming his snake after one of his(Keats). I just want to snuggle this boi.

Joker: sweet boi put into bad situation- I wish I could have saved him and the rest of the circus act-

Jumbo: okay but he is literally like 10ft tall. I want his height. I WANT TO BE CARRIED BY THIS MAN. LET ME BE CARRIED BY MY SUPER TALL HUSBAND OKAY?!?!?!

(I have so so so so SO MANY MORE- but that’s the main ones. Thank you for my TedTalk)

[coldbloodedcreator]

Touch

a little gift for @luminescentlyricist ! i just... have some intense clown brainrot. also, excuse how jumbled and weird it might be at the end, I was passing out (still am) while writing it and im too excited to share it to revise much. fandom: homestuck (oc oriented) characters: othamo oculus (oc), jezakk imetat (friends oc) length: 1426 words pov: 3rd person (jezakk)

touch.

that was one way othamo would communicate with jezakk.

a pat at the shoulders to access where the smaller was, a grab at his arm to signal he needed help walking. he could be a bit rough but usually never meant to harm jezakk, told by the small apologizes that muttered from his lips. he could be verbally affectionate — but they were rarer than jezakk liked. he understood, though. being verbal about feelings was hard. jezakk couldn't get a single sentence out without his voice stuttering and cracking, no matter how hard he tried. he admired how flat his matesprit could keep his tone. sometimes he wondered if he could ask othamo how to control his voice - as othamo was one of the few troupe members who spoke with no rises in his voice at all, and spoke at a moderately quiet level compared to everyone else. but he doubted othamo would, or that it would work for long.

jezakk's internal dialogue was interrupted by a tight grip as his arm. claws dug into his flesh and jezakk had to quickly brief a glance towards his matesprit, before giving his vice gripped claws a gentle pat. "Uh," jezakk sort of grumbled low, to his best ability. he still held his claws over othamos, resisting the urge to try and pry them off. even if he tried, othamo would likely just grab on at a different section of his arm. "hEy.. cOUld yOU Uh... rElAx A lIttlE, Oth?" he sort of stammered. his eyes flickered back and forth from the emotionless grin on his matesprit's face to the near wall, his shoulders tense. luckily for him the claws relaxed and jezakk could feel the blood start to return to his arm. "i gEt yOUr nErvOUs-" othamo blunted overspoke jezakk, claws digging in once more. "im n⊙t nerv⊙us." he grunted. jezakk could hear othamo's breath hissing through his irregular, pin prick teeth, his smile much more open than his resting one. jezakk was near convinced that othamo grinned when he was nervous, and that othamo was a nervous wreck at all times. which wasn't rather farfetched from what jezakk had gathered from previous drops of othamo's cool facade, or the comments he made, but jezakk could hardly tell when othamo was being sincere or not. he couldn't even tell when othamo's rage was genuine. jezakk's eyes landed at the floor, where he could just barely see his foot tapping against the cold cement. he near became fully absorbed with his nervous leg bouncing before an idea sparked in the back of his mind. "hEy, I hAd An IdEA..." he could feel othamo's claws loosen more, before they eventually relaxed and let go. jezakk gingerly touched at where the claws had sunk in and left indents, feeling the small bumps. there was a few greasy smears of the oils from othamo's marionette strings that made jezakk briefly grimace. "what is it?" jezakk could've sworn that was more of a demand than a question. the way othamo's raspy voice spoke was a bit unnerving at times. othamo had told jezakk that when he was younger, he didn't start talking till he was around 6 or 7 sweeps old, which at first sounded somewhat ridiculous. but ... it did make some sense. "I wAs thInkIng.. AbOUt hOw yOU strUgglE wIth shOwIng AffEctIOn?" jezakk tried to word this in the kindess way possible. he could see othamo's eyebrow quirk out of the corner of his eyes. "whAt If I shOwEd yOU A wAy tO dO It wIthOUt wOrds?" "y⊙u mean asl?" for once his voice changed at the end, but went deeper instead of higher. it still registered as a questioning tone, but a grumpy one. "yEAh! wEll, Uh, nO, nOt cOmplEtEly, bEcAUsE.. yOU knOw," he gave a few vague hand movements, even though they'd go unnoticed. "yes. because im blind. i kn⊙w." it almost sounded like a sigh coming from him. jezakk frowned.

"AnywAys. wEll.. I knOw yOU lIkE drUmmIng yOUr fIngErs On stUff, sO mAybE sOmEthIng wIth thAt?" jezakk could see othamo's smile growing more forced, signalling a zone out on othamo's end. jezakk jabbed an elbow at othamo and he straighted up again. he gave no apology for his brief lack of consciousness, simply giving jezakk a smile. "... hOw dOEs thAt sOUnd?" "h⊙w d⊙es what s⊙und." jezakk sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. sometimes his matesprit was so goddamn stubborn. instead of making a mistake like last time where the question spiraled out of control, he just gave a small shake of his head. he reached his claws forward, placing them on othamo's shoulder gently. underneath the three different layers othamo tensed up at the touch. after a brief few seconds to let othamo's shoulders relax did jezakk drum his claws against his matesprit, giving a reassuring smile. "I lOvE yOU." jezakk said gently. he could feel othamo's blind gaze near bore through his skull. the taller's claws drifted forward, resting against jezakk's arm. he drums his fingers against it much gentler than expected, almost lost between the sweater fabric. this caused a wide smile to form on jezakk's face and a gentle flush fill his heart, and he lowered his hand. a few moments passed before othamo moved his hand to jezakk's face and drummed there as well. othamo's smile had visible softened. it was almost like his icy exterior melted away, revealing the personality that jezakk knew as his matesprit. othamo slowly crouched - trying to avoid popping his knees, as he understood the sound wasnt very desirable - and quickly after engulfed jezakk into a hug. he pulled jezakk close as a loud purr begun to rumble from deep within his chest and he nuzzled his face against jezakk's shoulder. his claws drummed rhythmically against jezakk's back, over and over, as he gave the tinkerer a squeeze. jezakk was rather surprised, but also quite elated, at the sudden affection. his cheeks turned lilac as he wrapped his arms around his matesprit, placing his chin on othamo's shoulder. his own claws gently rolled against othamo’s back, able to feel the scutes that decorated the spine of the puppeteers spine. it was a nice feeling. a few minutes pass, and they depart from their embrace. othamo remained crouched for a little bit, simply facing jezakk. the smaller purpleblood didn't move, as othamo still his claws on his shoulders.

"hey jazzy." "hm?" he blinked, tilting his head as a force of habit. "want t⊙ kn⊙w s⊙mething?" othamo asked, grin still present. jezakk lets out a soft chuckle. "sUrE, whAt Is It?" "when i think ⊙f y⊙u, i d⊙nt try t⊙ imagine the bits and pieces put t⊙gether ⊙f what y⊙u might l◎‿◉k like. i think ⊙f the stars. ⊙r at least my mem⊙ries ⊙f them. i used t⊙ marvel at the night sky, enam⊙red by them. they were s⊙ beautiful. y⊙u remind me ⊙f th⊙se stars, jazzy. s⊙ bright, interw⊙ven int⊙ the cl⊙uds ⊙f stardust."

a long pause came from jezakk. he stared at othamo, unable to find words. eventually he found a smile and another giggle leaves his lips. "Oth... thAts sO swEEt. I dIdn't knOw yOU wErE A rOmAntIc." othamo gives a playful nudge, leaning back onto his heels. "d⊙n't get t◎‿◉ c⊙cky ab⊙ut it, ⊙r else i w⊙nt tell y⊙u my pent up l⊙ve p⊙ems at all." othamo holds a genuine smile though, shoulders lax. he leaned forward and gently pressed his cold nose against jezakk's before giving the tinkerer a drum on the shoulders, and then standing straight. his previous fears seemed to have long since left him, his matesprit bringing his mood up significantly. othamo's smile can only widen more as another troll pops into jezakk's practice tent - where the two trolls currently were. he could hear the troll mutter something about "i knew id find you here" before informing the puppeteer his show was to begin soon, and othamo gives a simple nod. he looked to jezakk's direction once more before leaning down to place an affectionate kiss on jezakk's forehead, murmuring a few soft words and then making his way out. he paused at the entrance of the tent, glancing back again. he reached to the nearby beam and gave it a drum, smile perked. and then he leaves, vanishing into the bright big top to preform. jezakk could only watch, grin soft and his heart still beating firmly in his chest.

othamo could communicate verbally with jezakk, too. and boy does he love when he did.