#i am fearful about getting to tawny man for reasons

[grenadine-blood]

thinking long and hard on fitz farseer’s behavioral patterns

[foulcrownkryptonite]

The Man He Loved

Erwin x Levi 

Levi disagrees with Erwin’s plan and confronts him after a meeting with the Scouts.

3.4K words

Content Warnings: swearing, bursts of anger, general meanness before the cavity inducing fluff comes into play :)

Levi sat quietly, arms crossed and eyes scanning each of the Scouts as Erwin laid out this coming mission's details. It was late and everyone was past the brink of exhaustion, but this meeting was unfortunately urgent. Eren and Historia… Those damned Internal Police lackies will stop at nothing to get their filthy hands on the two kids. And with the influence they have, their chance at success is more than possible. There was no time to waste. What they needed was a plan of action, an infallible one, at that.

“We still have many uncertainties about the titans and what the Beast titan’s plans are…” Erwin continued. “But keeping Eren and Historia safe is of the utmost priority. Humanity will fall if the Internal Police get their hands on them. In two days' time, we’ll need to devise a distraction.” Distraction? Levi swiftly side eyed Erwin as he continued his disquisition, his prominent features set in dedication. Why doesn't he tell me these things beforehand...

“Jean, you’ll pretend to be Eren and-“ Erwin was cut off by Jean’s groans.

“Huh? I look nothing like that brat. Clearly I’m far more handsome. They’ll think he suddenly became a model and Eren does not deserve that reputation.” Jean quickly retorted. Despite being crudely cut off, Erwin’s eyes remained weighted and unmoving. The stretch of silence that followed elicited an ugly snort from Conny, earning a poorly contained laugh from Sasha and a silencing glare from Mikasa. Once the punishing eyes moved to Jean, he quickly shut his trap and slunk in his chair, a curse being muttered under his breath. Are these damn brats capable of a single serious meeting? Levi scoffed to himself as Erwin resumed.

“As I was saying,” Jean somehow receded further into himself. “Armin will play Historia.”. Armin nodded, knowing there’s no saying no to the commander in this state. “I’ll lead the distraction as I’m perfectly fine with playing bait. They want me too, but that’s not important.” he went on. At this, Levi's jaw tightened. Not important?! They’ll kill you. What is he-

“Don’t worry, as this will not be for another week. The news of us hiding out won’t get to them for a short while.” Erwin concluded, standing up in his chair. Before he could finish his brief remarks, the scouts eagerly stood to attention. “Very well, that is all for tonight. Get some rest, Scouts. You’ve done good work. If there are any questions, feel free to ask. But for now, seek your sleep.” And with those words of finality, he receded back into his seat, the phantom pains in his arm ebbing and flowing as they usually did. Erwin never talked about it, but Levi could tell when it was bothering the commander. His eyebrows would furrow slightly, followed by a look of realization then poignancy. Whether he really wanted to or not, Levi always noticed these little changes in the man.

Hange let out a big yawn, waiting as everyone else quietly left the room. That is to say, everyone besides Conny, Sasha and Jean, those loud fucks. Levi instantly began mentally reciting what Erwin had previously said. Distraction my ass… Hange kicked up their feet onto the coffee table, expecting the usual post-meeting chat between the three of them. “Eyy I’m pooped, how about a-“

“Hange.” Levi said plainly.

“Eh?”

“Not today.”

“Alright… then why don’t we-“

“Not. Today.” Levi snapped, uncrossing his legs to stand. “Leave.”

Hange rolled their eyes, used to and unthreatened by Levi’s usual ire. “Whatever, I’ll just go party somewhere else then.” They stood too, walking toward the door. “You two buzzkills have a goodnight~!” They sang sweetly before sauntering out in an exaggerated confidence. Levi sighed before going to the door and locking it. Erwin just watched, unamused and unsurprised by his behavior. Levi leaned against the locked door and put his hands on his hips.

“So, a suicide mission? That’s your master plan?” he said coldly, grey eyes meeting blue in an unfriendly gaze. Erwin kept his lips sealed with silence, knowing full well the man across him had a lot more to say. “Tch, silent treatment too? Why don’t you tell me these things? Did you hit your head on the field before losing your arm?” He taunted, attempting to coax the tall man into talking.

Erwin’s eyes darkened just slightly. He really wasn’t in the mood to bicker with Levi. His plan was practically foolproof, Levi just wasn’t thinking rationally. His arm hurt and he longed for a good night's rest, not wanting to be barked at by the man standing across from him. Truthfully, he was tuning most of what he said out. Just let him ramble until he’s satisfied.

Levi stomped his boot on the door, causing it to judder in return. “You’re not even LISTENING. Oi, shit-for-brains, talk to me like a man and stop wallowing in your suicidal self pity. What the fuck are you thinking?”

Erwin took a steady breath, composing himself before finally speaking. “Is this really about the mission, Levi?” He was met with cold icy eyes set in a dead glare. This really isn’t what he wanted to do right now. “Y'know what, nevermind. I don’t wanna hear it tonight.” he dismissed.

Levi was beyond irked. “Eh- what are you even saying? Damn, that titan really did scramble your head. Do I need to spell it out for ya? Write on little cards so you can relearn your ABC’s? Eh?! You’ve gone mad. This is stupid-“

Erwin lifted his hand up to silence him. “You don’t have to agree. By all means, yell at me. But this doesn’t change my plan.” He lowered his hand and looked him in the eyes, his mind tired and begging for rest.

Levi could feel his face darkening into a prominent scowl. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this… Your self righteous fantasies of being the humble hero are clouding your judgement. Pride? Heroism? That’s just some bullshit excuse, Erwin. You aren’t expendable. Killing yourself now isn’t going to help anyone. It’s not going to fix anything.” He spat, poison dripping from each word as his gaze remained locked on target. Erwin eyed him in return, eyes growing darker with each passing second. A tense silence stretched between them.

Levi sighed before starting again.

“We need that damn head of yours if we want to have any chance of a future, so quit being a baby and let’s figure out some other plan.” He reasoned, hoping these words would make his commander understand where this bout of anger came from.

Erwin sat silent for a moment, contemplating his words and filtering them with his usual routine of rationality and logic. What was Levi’s goal here? It is putting his own life in danger, not Levi’s. Unless the issue was that fact itself...

“Levi…” He began calmly, his assuring tone of voice encouraging Levi to calm himself. “I recognize how you feel, but you must see the bigger picture. You need to understand, I am replaceable, Eren and Historia are not.“

Levi instinctively tensed again, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed, and knowing full well he wouldn’t like whatever Erwin would say next. “This mission is above me - above us. It’s our best option. We don’t have the luxury to achieve results without sacrifice, or at least without the risk thereof. I have abandoned many soldiers in the past, and to cower when that chance weighs on myself is unbecoming of a commander. I did not call a meeting tonight to discuss, but rather to inform. This is the plan, Levi. And frankly? I do not wish to speak about it further. That is all.” Erwin languidly finished, his usual punctuality succumbing to a tired dejection.

Levi realized then. He wasn’t speaking to Erwin, the man whom he trusted and dedicated his life to. Levi wasn’t speaking to the one who dragged him out of that shitty dump of a home and into the Survey Corps; He wasn’t here with the man who made badly timed jokes Levi could only roll his eyes at, nor the captain who suddenly took an interest in cleanliness upon Levi’s arrival, nor the friend who kindly lent Levi a shoulder and a warm cup of tea following his squad's extinction. This was not that man. Levi was stood in front of the Commander of the Survey Corps. An artificial hero who’d rid himself of his humanities in the name of freedom, eager to sacrifice what he must for the prosperity of the future. Erwin looked at Levi from behind that old table as if it were a wall of its own, made not for keeping titans out, but for imprisoning the man Levi knew him to be within.

A heroic façade. A selfless demeanor. That is what Erwin has chosen to be.

Bullshit. Absolute fucking BULLSHIT. There are at least a thousand ways out of this mess, why the hell is he so set on risking himself? An unbridled rage swiftly lifted Levi off the back of the door, boots stomping up towards the tired man in front of him. Levi seethed. He won't let Erwin succumb to whatever dumbass funk he seems to be in. He crossed his arms and scowled, voice biting and unsympathetic. “So that’s it then? You’re just going to give up under the ruse of heroism cause you don't feel well? Because you lost your fucking arm to some ugly ass titan?”

Erwin glare was maddening, something that would make any other soul cower in fear, yet it only fueled his own vehemence. He’s not going to let Erwin walk away from this. “Tch. And to think I’d thought so highly of you... Go on then. If this is really what you want, go and die a coward's meaningless death.” The air hung heavy as they stared each other down. Silence, tense uncomfortable silence and shit ok maybe Levi had gone a bit too fa-

BANG. His hand hit the desk hard, the sound of Erwin's arm slamming the old wood echoing harshly off the cold stone walls. He was standing now, chair forgotten and fallen behind him. The look on his face made Levi’s heart catch in his throat, a dry lump forming as Erwin's eyes bore menacingly into him. His small figure felt diminutive as Erwin’s chest heaved with ferocity, before finally cracking with pure fury. “You dare tell me what I can or cannot do with my own life? Who the fuck do you think you are? I am your superior officer before I am your friend and I will not take this shit from you!”

Levi went cold, backing once more into the door as far as he could, gripping the handle for support, or perhaps a possible escape. He’s never seen Erwin snap like this and to see this eruption in him… It petrified him. “Well, now who’s the coward?” He said maddeningly, kicking the discarded chair further into the corner which sent Levi’s fight or flight into overdrive. Erwin towered over him, his hand slamming against the door a good two feet above Levi’s head. When did he get so damn close?

Levi opened his mouth, but could produce no sound. He was scared. This wasn’t Erwin. A primal rage had overtaken him and Levi could see it in the way his eyes oozed with hostility, in the way his astute demeanor had morphed into that of a feral beast’s. Taking a chance, Levi took a breath. “Erwin…” he whispered carefully, like a cornered animal trying to negotiate with its prey. Erwin’s eyes flashed with an indescribable something. He dropped his hand.

“Fuck,” he cursed, putting his hand to his head and wobbling backward before facing Levi again.

“Fuck, Levi, I’m…” he began. Once again, Levi was experiencing a new side of Erwin, a common theme tonight.  “You…” He paused, collecting his words and continuing. “You need to understand exactly what it is I’m trying to say. It’s my life and you said it yourself earlier, I’m as good as dead. This arm…  How exactly am I supposed to fight like this?” It was barely audible, but Levi picked up a slight crack to his voice. Infuriated Erwin was shocking to see, but this completely foreign vulnerability was something else. The two had been rather close, but nothing quite like this. It was jarring, but not at all bad.

Before Levi could say anything in return, Erwin continued, voice almost hushed and pleading. “Eren is the key to saving humanity and you damn right know it. If I can just lead the charge-“ he was cut off by Levi swiftly grabbing hold of his hand. He didn’t really know what the hell he was doing, some innermost part of him doing the decision making here. The action terrified the both of them, but it was a sign of comfort and that’s all Erwin needed. Besides, it stopped him from spouting more nonsense… So that's good, right?

Noticing the slightest squeeze of his hand in return, Levi found the words he wanted to say. Needed to say. “You know I didn’t mean that. I won’t let you die out there, Erwin. We need you…” his voice grew soft before he carried on. “I need you… So I won’t let you just throw yourself away, dumbass.” Ok now he really didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. The air was stiff as Erwin only stared down at him, and Levi directed his eyes back to the discarded chair. Anything really to distract himself from Erwin’s wide eyed stare. It wasn’t working. Why wasn’t Erwin saying anything? He had made it worse. Fuck.

“I- um I’m I’ll just, I’ll just-“ Levi stammered, earnestly fumbling with the doorknob to leave. Bad choice. Bad night. Time to go. Erwin promptly grabbed Levi’s arm and pulled him closer, until he was flush with the broad surface of his chest. Levi’s face burned due to the proximity, and as Erwin snaked his arm around his middle, his dreaded blush only deepened. Not quite knowing what to do with his hands, he mirrored Erwin’s own actions, enclosing the embrace and- Oh. This is nice. Feeling Levi’s arms wrap around him, Erwin took the initiative to bend down, lowering his head to rest atop Levi’s shoulder.

“I need you too... More than anything” he breathed softly into Levi’s jacket.

Levi had never been one for flattery or sugared words. Lies only beget other lies and Levi valued honesty and definiteness. But this… This was something entirely different. Erwin’s voice was barely above a whisper, purely unguarded and emotive. This wasn’t some false declaration to earn his sympathy, but rather raw feeling, something Levi is not used to having directed at himself.

The tears came before rational thought could beat them, and Erwin deepened the hug in response. The two didn’t say a word as they stood and kept their embrace, never wanting to let go. It was then that he realized Erwin was shaking slightly, tears falling from the man in his arms as well. Levi gripped tighter onto him, his cloak bunching up into his fingers as he held on perhaps harder than need be. Levi wouldn’t normally indulge himself in such juvenile behavior, but he supposed, at least for tonight, he didn’t want to hold himself back.

Erwin’s calloused hand slowly crept its way to Levi’s neck, causing him to shiver. Unsure if this reaction was a positive one, the taller man froze. Levi understood this fearful body language and strengthened the hug, signaling it was ok. Taking this in, Erwin began to rub gentle circles on the back of Levi’s neck, causing him to stir and the fine hairs on his neck to stand. They’ve never touched, not like this. Neither dared to speak, each fearing it would end this blissful spell.

Returning the intimate gesture, Levi began to softly move the palm of his hand along Erwin’s back. Levi wasn’t a touchy-feely person - or, so he thought because being touched like this… He could truly die right here. And that would be ok.

Erwin rotated his head so he was facing the crook of Levi’s neck, and Levi shuddered as he felt Erwin’s hot, shaky breath. This in turn made Erwin nervous. What are we doing? I shouldn’t be-

Levi snaked a hand up to the base of Erwin’s neck and began to tenderly run his fingers through his hair. Erwin took this as complete reassurance that yeah, this was ok. And Levi was ok with it too. Nerves were high as Levi gripped the man’s shirt, wanting to cling to him in silence forever.

Craving his touch, Levi bent his head to face Erwin’s. Erwin noticed the sudden change in movement and opened his eyes to see Levi staring right back at him. He pulled his head back ever so slightly, ensuring he was properly facing Levi. He searched his steel eyes and found only warmth. Still, not a word was said as they got even closer, noses just barely grazing each other before finally-

Unexpectedly, a jarring thud came from outside the door. This was promptly followed by a distant “I’m ok!”. Being so caught up in the moment, Erwin jumped, his heart racing and a mess as he lifted away from Levi. He muttered a curse word before being forced to talk about what just happened between the two men.

Levi just stood there, the sudden lack of intimacy making him realize exactly what had just happened. Feeling damn near faint, he sat on the couch closest to the warm fire and Erwin followed suit, placing his hand on the cushiony surface as he glanced at the visibly nervous Levi.

Erwin reached over and grabbed Levi’s hand causing Levi to meet his gaze. “Is this ok?” He asked gingerly. Levi’s expression softened as he put his other hand on top of his. “Yeah, this is ok”. They sat like that for a moment, deep breaths filling the silence.

“At least let me come with you,” Levi said hurriedly, and Erwin’s eyes grew wide. “Levi…” He began, moving his hand to cup his cheek. Levi leaned into his touch, body settling as he listened to Erwin. “Levi, when have I ever excluded you from a mission? We're doing this together…” he pulled Levi’s face closer to his as Levi put a hand to the man’s chest.

“Together.” Levi repeated before Erwin sealed the space between them with a feather-light kiss, still not wanting to scare the shorter man away. But Levi’s return to the kiss was immediate and desperate, once again wanting to be close to the man he’d admired for years. The man he… Fuck it, the man he loved. Being held like this, being needed like this, needing him in return, it all felt so familiar despite how foreign it really was.

It was like home. Not the putrid and disgustingly cluttered underground, but rather the sentiment of it all. Being in Erwin's embrace, he thought of Farlan and Isabel, his dedication and her compassion. He thought of the ever rowdy scouts, of Hange, of the feeling of Erwin’s lips against his: that was a big one.

Levi wasn’t sure where this mission would take them, or where any of their upcoming escapades would lead them. But he was sure of one thing, as long as he was at this man’s side, his warm eyes meeting his own, he could bear it. No... They could bear it. Erwin pulled away from his lips for what felt like the tenth time this night. Grey eyes met blue, and for the first time in what had felt like years, Levi felt himself fully smiling back.

That night, perched in that dimly lit safe house on a tawny old couch, was theirs and theirs alone, forever to be looked back upon fondly. They were safe. And most importantly, they were each other’s.

“SASHA HOLY SHIT ARE YOU SEEING THIS!”

“CONNY SHUT UP!”

“MMPH!”

And most importantly, Levi had a couple of brats to silence.

[louiseleblancdiggory]

 Once Upon a December

Chapter 2: On This Journey to the Past Home

A/N: I had such a hard time coming up with the best way to write this chapter since it’s the introduction of six characters at the same time. I hope it’s not too bad. Also, if you’re gonna ask to be tagged could you please send an ask? It’s easier for me and if I forgot to tag you, just message me. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

Despite the fear clawing its way into her mind, the deep chuckle from the cloaked man behind her soothed some of her nerves. His voice was cold and deep, even when he was laughing. And if he was laughing, it meant that they weren’t mad enough to kill her, right?

Or maybe they’re a bunch of murderers and are laughing because they’ll take their sweet time with you.

Lin didn’t raise her head from the marble floor, her body being taken by the pain of slamming against the man and then the floor. Her eyes went from one man to the next. Two of them stood a little bit behind the other three. One of them had a black cloak and the other had a white one. The white one, she realized, had been the one she saw smiling earlier. She wondered if he was smiling now, but the cloak and the shadows didn’t let her see it. The man she had decked across the face stood in front of her, his arms crossed and even with his charcoal grey coat hiding his features, she could sense the sneer on his face.

Not that she was in position to pick, but she would very much prefer dealing with the white cloaked man than this one.

The guy was flanked by two other in brown. Although, differently from their apparent leader, they didn’t bother hiding their faces. Both tan, with harsh features and tawny eyes. One was blonde, appearing to be in his late thirties or maybe even forties. The other one looked more around late twenties, his ebony hair tucked in a low pony. In any other situation, she might have found them somewhat attractive.

She didn’t dare turn around to see the one that had stopped her.

“Shouldn’t someone take that bottle from her?” The man in white asked, stepping into the light. If she hadn’t been laying down, her jaw might have dropped at the sight of his face. He could very well be the most handsome man she had ever laid her eyes upon. Flawless brown skin, dark blonde hair and black eyes, he looked like the warrior-princes in the books she read. “I mean she did manage to deck Lorcan across the face and run a fucking lot. And then there is also the pup ready to bite our ankles.”

Lorcan. The man in charcoal grey was named Lorcan.

She heard the footsteps of the man behind her before she saw him. He unhurriedly walked to her front to join his companions, and Lin finally sat up. As Lorcan, his face was hidden by his light grey cloak. She picked the dog up and stood, taking a step back.

When she fully stood the light filtering from one of the highest windows illuminated her face, and she scowled at the six men.

“Holy fuck.” The pretty one said out loud when he took a look at her face. “Holy fuck. Please tell me everyone is thinking what I am thinking.”

“Shut up, Fen.” The one in black grunted, stepping closer to Fen. Lin then realized that their faces were near identical, even though he looked like the dark side of his brother’s fair coin.

Twins then.

“Look at her face.” He was gaping. Why the hell was he gaping?

“Why the hell are you gaping?” She said before she could consider the words. She almost flinched at her own tone— being rude wouldn’t help her at all right now. But she had already spoken with confidence, so now she must continue with the facade. “And who the hell are you?”

“You’re not really in the position of asking questions right now, lady.” His twin answered before Fen could open his mouth.

“You’re not really in the position of telling me how to act, sir.” Oh she was screwed. She was so, so screwed.

The six men surveyed her, their eyes scanning her head to toe. She felt the urge to shift on her feet, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction even though she had a feeling that they all knew how her heart was pounding inside her chest.

The pretty one, Fen, decided that she passed whatever inspection because he decided to answer her earlier question despite the looks he was receiving from the other five. “I’m Fenrys. Lovely meeting you.”

Her eyes narrowed and she took another step back. Fenrys’s wolflike smile only grew wider. “And the others?” She jerked her chin to the other five, still faking confidence. She needed to run and she needed to do it before they decided they didn’t want to toy with her anymore but she knew that without another distraction, she wouldn’t run five steps before they caught her.

Surprisingly, the golden man in brown answered her question too. “Gavriel, lady.” His voice was chill and gentle, and some of her nerves calmed further. Maybe he would convince his friends to kill her quickly as a mercy. He looked at the other four men who remained silent and sighed. His next words, however, caught her by surprise. “We are very sorry for scaring you and your dog. We didn’t expect anyone else to be in the castle.”

A blink was all the surprise she showed.

Maybe they wouldn’t kill her. She almost choked in relief.

Talking to him seemed safer than the others, so she nodded. “I wasn’t planning on coming in, but the dog ran inside and I came after it.” If he was surprised she answer, he didn’t let it show. “I can leave now and I promise I will not tell anyone that I ever saw any of you.”

Fenrys laughed at that. “I have a better plan.”

At that, her entire body went visibly taunt.

“Fenrys.” The man with ebony hair in a pony growled. “Stop trying to scare the girl.”

Fenrys didn’t stop looking at her. “Am I scaring you, lady?”

“The only thing scaring me are your manners. Maybe I should have decked you across the face.” Lin raised her chin. She had survived ten years with men trying to taunt her day and night, and since his companions didn’t seem inclined to kill her, Fenrys was just an asshole trying to get a reaction. “Maybe strong enough to break your jaw. It would certainly save me from your blabbering.”

His twin’s mouth fell open before he howled. The man was almost doubling with laughter, and the other ones seemed to smile. At least the ones she could see the faces. Two of them remained unknown and it bothered her. A lot.

“The idiot laughing Connall,” the man with ebony hair said. “I’m Vaughan.”

She merely nodded to acknowledge she had heard him. Against her best judgment, her eyes went to the guy in the grey coat. Not the one she had hit, the one that seemed to be their leader, Lorcan. No, she was staring at the one who had been the one to reach her and grab her elbow. She could swear his eyes were fixated on hers as she turned to him. His attention unnerved her enough to make her reckless. “And the one watching me like a fucking buzzard would be?”

He seemed to tense, either because of her attention or her harsh tone. Probably the latter.

No one responded as if sensing the shift in the air.

“What? You grabbed me by the elbow and slammed me against the floor, I should at least know your name.”

“What’s yours?” Oh, his voice. Something inside of her jumped when hearing his voice, his accent making the words roll out of his tongue. She would have frowned at herself if she wasn’t completely focused on the man before her. Even the others seemed to be interested in their conversation.

Lin smiled. “I asked first.”

Even under the layers of his cloak, she could feel him smiling in return. “Connall was right. You’re not in the position to ask questions.”

She just stared blankly at him. Neither he or one of his companions seemed interested in breaking the silence or getting involved into their pissing match. Lin ached to remain silent, but she also knew it wouldn’t help her, at least not now.

Pick your battles wisely, Lysandra would say and then add upon seeing the look on her best friend’s face, Not all of them, Lin.

“Why don’t you at least let me see your face? After all you’ve seen mine.”

He considered. He started to slowly circle her, looking her from head to toe several times. She wanted to stay put, but there was something about him that was both alluring and infinitely annoying.

“Why are you circling me?”

He didn’t respond but, surprisingly, took a step into the light and took off his hood.

iknowyouiknowyouiknowyou

The pulsing in the back of her head came back with full strength. Her vision swayed, and she clenched her jaw in order to not pass out. When she felt slightly better, she analyzed his features. Fenrys might have been beautiful but this man was… Alluring. Handsome. Lin wanted to take a step forward and analyze his features more clearly. Wanted to see the exact shade of his green eyes, see if his hair was actually naturally silver. She wanted to clearly see every single harsh and sharp line of his face. If Fen was the fair warrior-prince, this man was the morally grey warrior that you never know if you can really trust.

He was staring at her, eyes narrowing. He took a step forward, head tilting to the side. For some reason, he seemed somewhat confused.

Maybe it was his confusion that made her say, “My name is Lin.”

He nodded, almost disappointed. “Rowan.”

“You look like the old royals.” Fenrys blurted out, making Lin’s attention snap back to him.

“Fenrys.” Vaughan and Rowan grunted at him.

“What? She does. Look at the hair and face shape. Even her eyes look like theirs.” He walked up to her and she tensed, not daring to run with him so close. He bent down, staring right into her face. She really wanted to punch him to see what he would do. “She’ll be just perfect.”

His twin brother and Gavriel groaned.

“Perfect for what?” She snapped.

“To pretend to be the lost princess, of course.”

She gawping at him, she knew. She continued until she felt laughter bubbling up her chest and let out the most dramatic cackle she could manage. Despite being alone in the world, being constantly worried about Lysandra, about money and her plans, Lin couldn’t stop laughing at what the man had suggested. She was almost doubling over, and the dog in her arms jumped to the floor. Lin knew she shouldn’t laugh at the face of six men who could very well kill her, but it was just too damn funny.

“Pretend to be what?” She said, trying to stop laughing. Fenrys scowled at her and the others watched the scene or humorously or bored. “Isn’t this the infraction of about twenty laws, one of them being treason. Which would result in the gallows?”

When he didn’t answer, she let out another chuckle. “I have a neck way too pretty to be tied in a rope, boyo. And there is the fact that I don’t know any of you, much less trust any of you. Find another idiot.”

“You wouldn’t go to the gallows.” Vaughan said, and she was shocked that some of them agreed with Fenrys. Her eyes went to Rowan, but he was just watching everything with a blank expression. Vaughan continued, “People do it all the time. You would study everything about them, about their kingdom, go to the royal family, say you are the lost princess and they decide whether or not you’re lying. Worst case scenario, they kick you to the curb.”

“And the new queen?” Why the fuck was she even entertaining the idea? She didn’t know any of these men, and she already had a mission of her own. Lysandra couldn’t wait while she pretended to be a princess.

“She wouldn’t know.” Connall smiled viciously.

“Fuck no. I have better things to do.” She said, taking a step towards the wood panel she had come from. Despite their sizes and mean demeanors, Lin now doubted they would kill her. “Places to be, people to see. Find. Another. Idiot.”

“Are ‘better things’ sitting on the rooftop of a shabby house and drink vodka?” Fenrys called after her, and her head whipped back. Not to Fenrys, no, but to Rowan. The silver flash earlier… “You.”

He gave her a feral smile.

“You followed me here.” Lin said incredulously. “Didn’t expect anyone in the castle my ass. What the hell is wrong with the six of you?”

“We need a princess.” Vaughan said simply.

“Well I’m not one so leave me alone.” She grunted and turned around again to leave. These people must have been complete lunatics if they honestly had followed her here just to make her accept pretending to be the lost princess. The lost princess that everyone knew was dead. Her coat and shoes had been found by the riverbank in the dead of the winter and no one, especially an eight year old, would survive the Florine during December. Why the Galathynius still accepted people claiming to be Aelin was beyond her.

“We would pay you.” Connall called after her and although she didn’t stop, she started walking just a little bit slower.

You do need money, you know?

Lin was going to start calling the annoying voice in her head Stupid Sense and maybe light a few candles to ask for good, old common sense.

She could get the money somewhere else. They would probably only pay her if she was accepted as the princess, and Lysandra couldn’t wait that long.

“And for your passage to Banjali.” Gavriel added.

That made her stop.

“There’s no train to Banjali. The Adarlanian roads are closed in the southern borders.” She replied quietly, still not turning around. A plan was forming in her head, but she didn’t know if the results would outweigh the dangers.

If she accepted their offer, they could pay for her train ticket to Inish. If the Adarlanian borders were closed, the only way to get to Eyllwe was through the Western Wastes. If she said her condition was to go through a route that had Inish in its way, she could be there in little over a month. But then there was the big problem: she didn’t know these men. They could be the worst kind of scum for all she knew, and traveling with all six of them would require her to be always paying attention, minding her surroundings. She would constantly need to have an escape plan. She did know how to fight, and against one of them she might even had stood a chance but all six? She would be dead before she could even draw her knife. No, with them the wisest would be to run.

Maybe that was what she was going to do once they got to Inish. She would grab Lysandra and they would sneak to the Red Desert in a boat, save some money while in Xandria and then go to the Southern Continent. During the time until Inish, she could pretend she intended in faking being princess to the old royals. The perfect plan but that could go wrong in so many ways.

“There are several routes through the Western Wastes.” Gavriel answered her earlier statement.

Fucking bingo.

She slowly turned around to look at them again. If she was going to accept this, she would need to face the risks daily. Being on her guard all the time was exhaustive and Lin really thought she was past that now that she had left the orphanage. But she also knew that it would take months for her to get all the money she needed in Orynth, and for Lysandra she would risk her life.

“I would have… conditions.”

Fenrys smiled like a wolf.

“No shared rooms. I get to keep my weapons. When we are not studying the Galathynius, neither of you speak to me because we are not friends. Or even colleagues. And, the most important, I pick the train and the route.”She crossed her arms and would have taken a more dominant stance if there wasn’t a dog sitting on her feet. “Oh, and the dog comes.”

“You got it, lady.” Fenrys said immediately.

“No, she fucking doesn’t.” Lorcan spoke for the first time since when he scared her. His voice was just as creepy. When he looked at her, she refrained from giving him a scolding glare. “Stay put. We will discuss your… conditions.” And with that the immediately formed a tight circle and spoke in hushed voices.

She rolled her eyes and knelt to take a look at the dog. Now that she wasn’t running after it or away from the group a few meters away, Lin could realize that the dog’s pelt wasn’t that dark of a golden blond as she had imagined, it was just extremely dirty. The paw had some dried blood, and as well as other spots in the pup’s body. One quick check and… yes, female. She was a lovely thing, no more than six months old and despite the dried blood and dirty, she looked pretty decent. And she also couldn’t be badly hurt considering how fast she could run.

“You and I are going on a funny field trip, Fleetfoot.” Despite her nerves, Lin smiled.

—————————————————

“Is there really anything to debate? That girl could be an Ashryver if we only considered her looks.” Fenrys whispered. 

“That girl has the manners of a demon.” Rowan replied, leaving his opinion clear in this expression. She didn’t want to do this, much less travel more than a month with that girl. 

She somehow got under his skin way too easily. It was like a more witty and smart version of Fenrys. Terrible

“Not the manners, clearly, but that can be adjusted. Again, she looks like an Ashryver.”

“And have you ever seen an Ashryver to know that?” Rowan’s voice came harsher than he intended, but his temper was slipping. He was the only one completely against this stupidity, his brothers seemed to be way too interested in the money that they could get to think clearly.

“Have you?” Fenrys snapped back, and when Rowan didn’t reply, he just went on. Fen was definitely the most excited about this. Earlier, when they were at the cathedral, he was looking outside of the window when he literally squeaked. Everyone knew of the Galathynius that had survived and now lived in Banjali with the Eyllwen royal family and how they sometimes accepted visits of people claiming to be Aelin. None ever actually was Aelin, and Fen thought that they should try their luck. Find a girl who looked like the dead princess, teach her, convince the Galathynius she was Aelin and then get fucking rich by blackmailing the poor girl.

All of them went to the window to look at the girl drinking her ass off on a roof and even Rowan had to admit that she looked like an Ashryver from afar. He didn’t even know she had also seen him until minutes ago when she looked back at him with enough wrath to make him want to take a step back.

The girl was like fucking wildfire, cursing like a sailor, hitting people with vodka bottles and inserting sarcasm in every single sentence.

“Her demands also are acceptable and expected.” Vaughan sided with Fenrys. He had been pissed earlier because he insisted that there were better ways to approach her. Connall said that it was better to have the element of surprise. Rowan just wanted to hit both of them. “She’s a girl traveling with six men, of course she wants weapons and privacy. And after you guys decided to so delicately approach her, it was obvious she wouldn’t be inclined to sit with us during afternoon tea and make friendship bracelets.”

“I didn’t know we had afternoon tea.”

“Connall, for the love of the gods, be quiet.” Gavriel said, giving one of the twins a slap on the back of his head.

As they kept bickering, Rowan let his gaze fall upon the girl. Lin.

Even though he never revealed to any of his friends, Rowan had seen an Ashryver up close. Two actually. A boy around his age at the time who would sneak off the castle to play with the other street boys and a younger girl who looked like his carbon copy. The boy he had seen far more than the girl, being friends with him for a while. Before Rowan could ever fully befriend the girl too, everything had gone to shit.

He still remembered the day when he woke up in a crappy orphanage and everyone was talking about how Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was dead. The king, Orlon, had died in the attack to the castle but Aelin had disappeared. He remembered the pain in his chest in imagining Aedion, his friend and her cousin, discovering he had lost her. He remembered his own pain in imagining the girl he had seen twice but had been kind to him both times, and how he would never befriend her too.

Lin did look like Aelin. If she had survived, the two girls would probably look very much alike. Sharp jawlines, high cheekbones and a small nose, Lin looked as royal as the new queen sitting on the throne. Even if he and Fenrys were right and her manners were a complete disgrace.

A disgrace because she wasn’t a royal. She wasn’t Aelin.  

Suddenly, Rowan was pissed and the sight of her only worsened it. It was cruel to go to the Galathynius and present an impostor as their daughter. It was insensitive as fuck for them to play with people like that only for money, and this girl was so quick to accept that it made his stomach turn.

The first sight of her had made his stomach turn too.

“Why does she want to choose the route, though?” Lorcan finally said something, his voice cold. Rowan couldn’t read his face right now, but he knew Lorcan enough to know that he was raging inside because the girl had decked him.

It had been so unexpected that Rowan just stood there blinking.

“Hey, firedrake,” Fenrys said loudly, and Lin’s head snapped up from the dog she was petting. Her eyes narrowed, her impatience and dislike of them simmering off of her. “Why you want to choose the route?”

Rowan held his sigh but Gavriel didn’t.

“Firedrake?” Was all she replied.

“Yeah, every time you opened your mouth was like spewing fire, so what better nickname than a firedrake?” Fenrys smiled and Rowan was sure that if it wasn’t for the dog licking her fingers, she would have attacked him.

“Fuck you. And I want to choose the route because I didn’t lie earlier.”

They just started at her blankly until she smiled, shrugging.

“I have places to be and people to see, wolfie.”

Fen actually laughed and Connall and Vaughan snorted. Gavriel merely smiled but, as Rowan, Lorcan’s face was serious.

Rowan really thought that he would put an end to this. Side with him that this was stupid and that there was no way in hell this could would pass as Aelin.

When Lorcan opened his mouth, though, Rowan’s world fell.

“Welcome to the group, firedrake. Don’t do anything to make me kill you in your sleep.”

The girl had balls, Rowan had to admit, as she smiled sarcastically and almost in a scary way at Lorcan as if to say Likewise.

Tags:

@morganofthewildfire​ @alyx801​ @ladywitchling​ @westofmoon​ @rolltide7​ @queen-of-glass​ @alifletcher2012​ @rattlethestarsdarling​ @rowanisahunk​ @bilkul-sharam-nahi-aati​ @faerie-queen-fireheart​ @sweetlyvillainous​ @chemicha​

[foursideharmony]

The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 4)

Summary: Roman and the White Witch make their move. Then the Witch makes her move. Then Roman makes his.

Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR

Content Warnings: Nothing serious, some descriptions of mild sick feelings

Word Count: 2614

Read on AO3: here

Aslan, the Great Lion, son of the Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea...the true and ultimate King of Narnia...loped westward across the ocean, the deep rose light of pre-dawn at his back, bounding over the swells as if they were grassy hills. The spray did not even dampen his mighty paws. He was very near his destination, occasionally leaping or dodging floating chunks of ice that had broken off from the freeze that gripped Narnia. They tended to melt as he passed—indeed, a careful observer would have noticed that a span of water around the Lion was tinted a pleasant blue-green, contrasting sharply with the dismal, wintry gray of the rest.

The time was near. Very soon, Narnia would be liberated from its oppressor.

Aslan was within sight of the shore, running over whitecaps. Another half-minute or so and he would be on the beach...but someone was approaching from the north, skimming over the water on an enchanted ice floe. He recognized his old enemy, Jadis the White Witch, the very one he was there to oust from the land...and she was accompanied...

...by a Son of Adam. The young man was richly dressed and held aloft a faceted stone the color of iron or tarnished lead. The Witch wielded her wand. When they were scarcely a stone's throw from Aslan, the human shouted “Now!” and the two of them began to chant:

“Dragon smoke and harpy’s shriek

What was mighty, now is weak

Pluck the mane and quell the roar

Let Narnia have her King no more!”

This they repeated thrice, circling Aslan on their makeshift watercraft. The Lion roared with dismay as a golden nimbus coalesced around him, pulsating and coruscating, and then was drawn off and toward the young man. Honey-colored light flowed into the strange gem, and Aslan appeared to shrink into himself. A wave crashed over him as the two enemies completed their spell.

Jadis and Roman rode the ice floe back to the shore. “How will we know if it worked?” said the White Witch.

“Take a look, Your Majesty,” said Roman, holding up the gem, which had lost its dullness and taken on the clarity and fire of a diamond. Nor was it any longer cold to the touch.

“I cannot touch it, you know,” she said. “Even so contained, that power would burn me alive. He is my opposite in every way. And you guarantee that he is now too weak to do us harm of himself?”

“Judge for yourself,” Roman said, pointing back toward the sea. Some small creature was feebly paddling through the cold gray waves, barely staying afloat amid the breakers. Just as the dawn broke, the tumbling waves deposited it on the sand, where it staggered to its feet, sneezed, shook off a coating of seafoam...and was a cat. A tawny long-haired tomcat, looking perfectly ridiculous as drenched as it was, mewling piteously. It didn't have the strength to run away when the pair approached.

“It would not have worked if he had made landfall first,” Roman said. “The soil of Narnia bolsters him.”

The White Witch raised her wand. “And now the stone of Narnia will be one with him.”

“Wait!” Roman barked. The Witch turned a furious glare upon him. “A slain enemy cannot feel the humiliation of its defeat,” Roman explained. He lunged, caught the cat by the scruff of its neck, and lifted it to his eye level. “We'll cage him back at the castle. And when we tire of him...I think a public petrifaction would send an irrefutable message to your subjects.”

The Witch's eyes widened ever so slightly and she almost smiled. “You have an admirable understanding of these matters, Prince Roman.”

Roman brought the cat right up to his face. “Is this villainous enough for you?” he muttered.

“Roman,” the cat said in the unmistakable deep, regal voice of Aslan, “what have you done?”

Roman recoiled as if bitten, and the cat twisted in his grasp, slashing at his hand with unsheathed claws. Roman lost his hold; the cat dropped awkwardly to the sand and took off like a shot, straight up the beach to the shelter of the scrubby shore plants. They lost sight of him within seconds...but not before Roman noticed that the frost in a very small circle around the animal vanished, only to return after he moved on. He carried a tiny sliver of spring with him.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon,” said the Witch in a clipped tone. She strode up to Roman and slapped his face, and her strength was such that he spun off his feet. “FOOL! You let him escape!”

Roman waited a moment for his ears to stop ringing before he even ventured to sit up. “Madam,” he panted, “will you treat me so discourteously?”

“I will treat you however I please. I am Queen. Do not delude yourself that this is a partnership of equals. Now get up. We have to intercept these 'friends' of yours.”

Roman felt a little flutter of fear for his fellow Sides. “Is that really necessary?” he said as he got his feet under him and checked that he still had the gem. He put it in his pocket for safekeeping. “We've won. Aslan can't crown them now. Once he fails to show up at the meeting place, they won't know what to do except go home.”

“Stripped of his power or no, I will take no chances as long as he is free. And our likelihood of capturing him again is miniscule.”

Roman opened his mouth to urge her not to harm them, but thought better of it—with the mood she was in, she would take it as a reason to be crueler. He simply lapsed into silence as the Witch's sleigh caught up with them and they climbed aboard.

“Is it done?” asked her Dwarf driver.

“More or less,” the Witch sighed irritably.

“Home, then, Your Majesty?”

“No—head inland. We must track down the other three Sons of Adam.”

“What does Your Majesty intend with them?” asked the Dwarf, flicking the reins.

“You know...I really have not decided yet. A great deal depends upon Roman's own comportment between now and when we find them.”

Roman closed his eyes as they traveled on, wondering fervently what to do next.

He had to assume the story knew what it was doing. Not because that was the most likely scenario, but because it was his best bet to stay hopeful.

*****************

The weary group crested a hill, looking toward the breaking dawn. From there, nearly the whole eastern basin of Narnia was visible. “There, see?” said Mr. Beaver. “The hill of the Stone Table. That's where we're going. And if you look a little further on, to the coast, you can just make out Cair Paravel, the palace of the true rulers of Narnia. One thing about all this snow—the castle walls stand out a lot better at a distance.”

“But Aslan will bring springtime, right?” Patton said, fluffing the hood of his coat.

“Of course he will, dearie,” said Mrs. Beaver. “We should start seeing the first signs soon enough; he must have arrived in Narnia by now.”

Yet nothing changed for at least two more hours as the party trudged on, through calf-deep snow and freezing gusts. From time to time, wolf howls sounded in the distance: the Witch's enforcers.

They were crossing a broad meadow, out in the open, exposed, when they heard a sudden shriek of triumph, followed by: “There! Three Sons of Adam with the Beavers! Faster!” and a sleigh burst from the edge of the forest off to the side. The White Witch had risen from her seat in her murderous excitement, bracing one hand against the back of the driver's seat while the other held her wand aloft. The reindeer accelerated steadily under the Dwarf's goad, fog streaming from their muzzles.

Beside the Witch, slumped over on the seat, was Roman.

“Run!” shouted Mr. Beaver.

“But...Roman!” said Patton. “We have to rescue him!”

“Nothing we can do right now, dearie!” said Mr. Beaver. “We've got to take cover!”

They fled, but it was utterly useless; the sleigh gained on them by leaps and bounds, whizzing over the snow that they struggled through. Ironically, what saved them in the moment was itself a minor misfortune—Virgil caught his foot on a large fallen branch hidden in the snow and went sprawling, but in the process it came loose and skittered directly into the reindeer's path, forcing them to veer off. Virgil scrambled back to his feet, adrenaline lending him both strength and grace, and though brief, the digression gave the party just enough time to reach the edge of the trees and lose themselves amid the underbrush.

“We have to go back,” Patton whispered frantically, tucked under the boughs of a bush. “For Roman, we have to—”

“Ssh!” Virgil interrupted, a hint of his Tempest Tongue coming through. Crunching footsteps were approaching.

“I will find you all, Sons of Adam,” came the silvery voice of the White Witch. “You cannot hide from me here in my own realm.” Mercifully, she moved away after a moment, and the party took her moment of inattention to scamper into a more distant bit of cover.

But there was no way to be quiet enough, and they soon heard her approaching again, more resolutely. She was going to find them, she was going to kill them (or petrify them, which amounted to the same thing)—

But she didn't. Something else happened instead, something that involved shouting and crackles of magical energy, and then virtual silence.

Five pairs of worried, bewildered eyes met each other in turn. No one dared to speak for a long moment. Then Logan carefully got to his feet and looks around. “It's clear,” he said. “She's gone.”

“Gone where?” asked Virgil with just a hint of Tempest.

“I...do not know. But I believe we can safely proceed toward our original destination.”

“Maybe now spring will come...” said Patton, getting up and dusting the snow and forest debris off his clothes. But he didn't sound very hopeful. “I just wish I knew if Roman was okay.”

“May I remind you, this is Roman's story,” said Logan. “He is fine. He is in control.”

Virgil made a derisive snort but said nothing.

“All right then,” said Mr. Beaver. “I've got our bearings again.”

They picked themselves up and continued.

***********

Mere moments earlier...

Roman squeezed his eyes shut all the harder as the sleigh swerved and skidded to a stop, sending up gouts of slush to either side. The seat rocked slightly as Jadis stepped down. “Remain here,” she said. “I will return shortly.” Roman heard her striding away.

Going after the other Sides. His family.

But what could he do about it? This was the role the story had chosen for him: the willing but ultimately outclassed ally of the White Witch. His cheek still burned where she had slapped him, more from the humiliation than the blow itself, which had long since faded. If he defied her openly, tried to stop her from attacking his fellow Sides, he would only share their fate.

Death? No. Story scenarios in the Imagination couldn't literally end their existence; that would make no sense at all. They would just be expelled back into the Mindscape proper, as if waking up from a bad dream. But it would mean he had failed.

I thought I was your hero...

Roman was suddenly furious. At the story for taking these turns, or at himself for setting things up so ineptly at the outset? Was there even a difference? It was his Imagination. Either way, he had trusted the story, and it was betraying him. He could deal with startling twists, downbeat second acts, even tragic endings, as long as the whole was satisfying. But this? Having the main bad guy just roll up and kill the heroes at what would normally be the midpoint? A travesty!

In a burst of inspiration, Roman opened his eyes, stood up, and vaulted lightly from the sleigh.

“Just where do you think you're going?” demanded the Dwarf, who had been adjusted the reindeer's tack. “You heard Her Majesty!”

Roman had been ready for it, and he whipped his sword out of its sheath and leveled it at the Dwarf's face. “Do not try to stop me.”

The Dwarf made a brief, tight nod, swallowed hard, and stood aside by a pace or two. Roman located the Witch's tracks, heading straight toward the nearby trees, and he followed them at a run.

The gem felt very heavy, and almost warm, in his pocket.

He spied the Witch some distance away among the trees, moving with purpose. He came just close enough to let her realize he was approaching, took the gem out, and began chanting.

“Dragon smoke and harpy's shriek

What was mighty, now is weak.”

She stopped short and turned to face him. “What are you doing?”

The second couplet leapt into his mind fully formed:

“Scoop the snow and scrape the frost

Her reign must end at any cost!”

The White Witch's eyes widened in alarm as the jewel began to suck her power away, just as it had Aslan's. Blue-white light ripped out of her in coils and flares, and her voice rose to a scream as she realized what was happening. For the gem was able to subtract enough of Aslan's power away to leave only a Talking Cat...but Jadis was nowhere near as puissant. The same amount of energy, taken from her, left...nothing.

A torrent of cold magic lanced toward Roman's gem, but it could not enter. The power of the White Witch—the power that was the White Witch—and the power of Aslan could not coexist in the same space. The bluish light shied away from the jewel and plunged, instead, directly into Roman himself.

Ice gripped his heart with a suddenness that made him gasp for breath. His head spun like a tilt-a-whirl. Roman managed to take two, three steps before the forest tipped up on edge and the snow-dusted ground slammed into his shoulder. The ice was spreading, spearing through his shoulders, encasing his lungs and stomach.

Roman made himself get up and staggered out of the trees back toward the sleigh. His head did not feel good.

“Where is the Queen?” asked the Dwarf.

Roman had no answer, but as he made eye contact, the Dwarf's mouth dropped open. He skipped back a step and then pressed his hands together in an almost prayerful pose and bowed so low that his head nearly brushed the ground. “Your Majesty,” he murmured. “Your Majesty.”

Roman climbed back into the sleigh. “Take me ho—take me back to the castle,” he panted. The ice continued to crawl outward from his core. He checked to make sure he hadn't dropped the gem along the way—he hadn't, but the flesh of his hand looked strange somehow.

Imagine if the others saw you now, said a voice not his own, from deep inside his head. He shuddered at the thought, and supposed that was why he had gone straight back to the sleigh instead of trying to find them himself. But the real horror, the one that had yet to sink in fully, the one he wasn't ready to let sink in just yet, was this:

He had no idea where the story was supposed to go from here.

[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

Here is my second entry for @naruto-fantasy-week! Just like with my previous fanfic for Day One, I realized I had a lot of potential and ideas to explore with this prompt and story idea so one day, I’ll come back to this fic and expand on the premise even further. But man, I wish I was faster at writing and had more time to chug out the rest of my fanfics because I am running out of time and have five more to go. Let’s see if I can get them all done in time. XD

The title of this story derives from both the chorus lyrics and the song title “Demons Are a Girl’s Best Friend” by Powerwolf. I did scanned this fic for edits but I probably missed some errors. 

Summary: Demons, monsters, they’re all the same when you live in a small, rural village always plagued with beasts, curses, and battles between magical creatures. Never in her life did Sakura expect to get pulled into the world of demons, thanks to the curiosity of a fox and tanuki demon. Naruto Fantasy Week, Day 2. Prompt: Monstrous. [Gaara x Sakura, Naruto x Sakura]

Text:

Flashback

Thoughts

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“You have always wanted to caress every monster.”

— Friedrich Nietzsche

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a good reason why her village established a curfew at night and on certain days of the year they warned the locals not to venture away from the outskirts of the hamlet and wander into the damp, murky woods that hugged near the village’s perimeter, acting like an imposing wall to another world. Monsters, demons, they claimed, laid on the prowl, waiting for the chance to snatch up an unsuspecting, unfortunate soul who strayed too far from the village and wandered into the clustered, dark forest. Their warnings and cause for concern were not groundless, for people did mysteriously vanish or when traveling to another neighboring town, didn’t leave in time to make it before dusk settled and never returned home. Bandits was the common explanation but there had been cases reported by witnesses, stating they saw humanoid beings with claws, fangs, and animals ears and tails. Demons walked among mankind and they were always looking to steal some away and never bring them back. 

Sakura had all these warnings and stories whirling in her brain as she sprinted through the winding, twisted path that would eventually lead her out of the dismal, haunting forest and back to the open fields of her helmet, where she’d surely be safe. She took a calculated risk in coming into the woods to scavenge for plants and herbs but a rare moss grew in these parts abundantly and her shishou needed them to treat the villagers. After a month of braving the secluded, verboten forest with no trouble, now, of all days, when their supply was running out thanks to a fever crippling the younger, more able-bodied folk with dizziness, hallucinations, extreme sweats, and lack of strength, she was spotted and now pursued by two demons. One fox demon and the other, a tanuki demon.  

Sakura leapt over a gnarled tree root, gripping her basket firmly to prevent the contents from spilling out and making her covert trek to the woods all for naught. She refused to look behind her. Looking back would slow her down and speed was critical if she was going to survive this frightful encounter. 

“Hey, hey you! Why are you running away from me?”

They’re just taunting me! They can’t know where I am!

Ducking underneath a branch, Sakura continued to race, increasing her pace even though her legs ached and her lungs heaved as if her whole chest was on fire. The sun was no longer peeking through the dense canopy and by now, she could hardly see what was in front of her. She had to be close to the outskirts of her town soon--she couldn’t be going in circles...was she?

That worrisome musing distracted Sakura momentarily from her mission, her feet still in motion but her eyes and mind were frozen in the sudden trepidation that in her fear of being spotted by some demons, she took a wrong turn and was horribly lost in these forsaken woods. She forgot to check her feet or look down at the ground, for a nearby tree branch snagged on the hem of her apron, startling her so badly her whole body twisted around from the shocking impact, one hand grasping her apron to tug it free. In doing so, Sakura failed to notice the enormous, thick tree root behind her and subsequently tripped backwards, the basket of herbs flying out of her grasp. Her collision with the bumpy, hard ground was agonizing and endless, her head throbbing and pounding like a hammer on the anvil and she tasted blood in her mouth. The back of her head felt wet and something sharp and jagged was jabbed up against her back. She tried wiggling her fingers and toes but was only greeted with a numbing sensation. Darkness swirled in her vision. She inhaled deep and instantly regretted it, her chest constricting and screeching at her to stop breathing while she hacked up some blood. As an apprentice to a knowledgeable, highly skilled and competent village doctor, Sakura deduced she was in horrible shape and if she didn’t get help soon, she would die.

I’m a dead woman either way. I’ll either bleed out or those two demons chasing me will finish the job.

Tears prick her eyelids and stubbornly, Sakura blinked them back, closing her eyes to alleviate herself from the vertigo that plagued her vision and head. Her trip wasn’t supposed to end like this, with her dying, alone and in pain, while her shishou anxiously waiting for her return with the herbs. She failed her mentor and everyone from her village. How long would it take for them to be courageous enough to explore the forest and discover her body? Or would the earth claim her corpse first?

“Please,” she croaked, ignoring the pain that came with every hagged breath. Tears flowed down her cheeks unchecked, her waning willpower couldn’t restrain them anymore. “Please, someone...help me. Save...my village. I’ll… I’ll do anything!” 

A torrent of coughing prevented her from continuing, eyes clamped shut. But in the midst of her excruciating hacking, Sakura swore she heard a feminine, sinister but twinkling cackle. But given the amount of blood she had already lost and sustained a severe head injury, she had to imagine the foreboding noise. Yet the laughter, hallucinated or not, echoed in her head as her head lolled to its side, weariness reaching every part of her, as if a burdensome, cool pall coiled itself around her and held her tautly in its grasp. 

“Sleep,” rang a voice that was not her own in her head. “Sleep, and let the two demons claim you. They will save you.”

Despite the pain, Sakura snorted but didn’t argue with the voice in her mind. After all, she was going to die so why waste her energy debating with herself? 

“Sleep!” the unknown voice commanded again, this time sounding impatient and irked. Sakura’s consciousness slipped from her control and the last thought she had was this was finally the end and she only hoped someone from the village would at least find her basket and bring the plants back to her mentor to treat her ailing patients.     

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the relentless round of bickering reached Sakura’s ears as she slowly woke up, she thought she was back home, in bed, and the near-death experience she underwent in the demon woods was simply a vivid nightmare. Yet as she fought off the grogginess and slowly opened her eyes, the hope swelling within her crashed almost instantly with such a raging crescendo at the sight of the fox and tanuki demon arguing with each other. They were loud enough that she didn’t have to strain her ears to hear them.

“What do you mean, ‘your territory’? She was wandering on my land when I found her!” growled the fox demon, spiky blonde hair momentarily distracting Sakura with his outburst as he shook his head vigorously. His azuline eyes flashed with rage, pulling his lips back to reveal a sharp set of canine teeth. 

No emotion registered on the tanuki demon’s pale visage or his aqua eyes, his scarlet hair remaining Sakura painfully of her own blood that she was hacking up not long ago. She felt sore, true,  but nothing as horrible as the agony wracking her body when she lied motionlessly, in the woods that evening. Had these two demons healed her fatal injuries?

There was no one else but them who could have reached me in time. But how did they save me? And more importantly, why?

As she pondered these puzzling inquiries, Sakura carefully listened on to the demons’ bickering. Their argument involved her but for what?

The ruby haired tanuki demon sneered at the blond fox demon. Dismissal was the only impression marked on his features now. “Since when did your territory cross over into mine? The once mortal was gathering in my domain and therefore, she will be a part of my clan.”

Clan? Is that what they are yelling to each other about? Whose territory they found me in?

At least they didn’t plan on devouring her. After all, why go through all the trouble of healing and patching up your prey if your own goal was to eat it? 

The golden haired demon’s ears twitched irately and the fox demon crossed his arms. His long, fluffy, gilded tail curled around the side of his left leg, looking so soft despite the anger charging through its owner. “Then why don’t we ask her ourselves?! I bet she’d rather stay with me than you, Gaara!”

Sakura froze as the tanuki demon–Gaara was his name–turned his attention towards her, teal eyes narrowing at her huddled form. Like Naruto, he too had ears and a tail, but his ears were more round and the tail shorter but seemed firmer. The fur on both the tanuki demon’s ears and tail was a tawny hue, with faint patches of black along the tail. 

“Finally, a good idea on your end, Naruto. The once mortal is awake now.”

The mood on Naruto’s face immediately shifted to one of curiosity and excitement and he immediately dashed up to her before kneeling down by her feet. Up close, he had what seemed to be whiskers but they were flat across his cheeks and had the appearance of facial markings or tattoos. From his enthusiasm to the wide beam he was delivering her, this fox demon reminded Sakura more of a loving hound than a dangerous creature. Could she have been mistaken to believe they wanted to hurt her, or at least, this one? The chase could have been one giant misunderstanding–after all, they were talking about her in their domain so perhaps that’s why they were following her after she ran away? To warn her not to trespass into their territory again? 

“I’m so happy to see you’re awake! My name is Naruto!” he introduced instantly, his tail brushing up against her leg. Its fur was just as downy as she imagined. 

“I’m Sakura,” she answered, her throat dry as she rasped out her name. She turned to look at Gaara, who was busy boring a hole in the back of Naruto’s head with a venomous glower. “And your name is Gaara, right?”

The said demon jerked his head up and immediately pinned his uncompromising scrutiny on her. “You were listening to our conversation.” His words were a statement, not a question. 

She nodded her head, figuring there was no point in lying. “Yes, but I would hardly call that a conversation. More like a heated argument.” She leaned forward, feeling some of her muscles groaning out in protest but at least she could feel her legs, hands, feet, and arms and every other limb attached to her. “But before I forget, thank you for saving me in the forest. I was critically wounded and thought I was going to die. But you two spared me and mended my body to practically brand new. I cannot thank you enough. She moved to get on her hands and knees to give them a proper bow, to demonstrate her thanks to such powerful beings but Naruto zapped his hands out to halt her movements. Bright sapphire eyes looked at her with concern and alarm.

“No, don’t move, Sakura-chan!” he pleased. “You still need to rest. It will take some time to adjust to your new body and—”

All warmth drained from her at his last few words, every part of her stiffening at his admission. Dread pooled in her stomach, seizing her by her throat and she recoiled from him, landing back on her rear. “What did you say?!” She nearly shrieked out, frantically glancing down at her hands and legs but seeing nothing different or out of place. Was the change elsewhere, like on her face or head? “‘New body’? What the hell does that mean?!”

Gaara hissed. Naruto’s eyes widened in horror at his slip. 

“Uh, I didn’t mean that! I misspoke! What I actually meant to say was that your completely normal human body is fine and you don’t have to worry about it except for resting up and not overexerting yourself.” he quickly amended. He shot her an assuring her grin but soon dropped it after she narrowed her verdant eyes at him. 

Gaara rolled his eyes at Naruto’s pitiable attempt to cover up his error. The damage had been down and now, the once mortal called Sakura would be panicking now. “Forget it, Naruto. She has to be told. Before she does something stupid, like run off and crash into a bunch of humans and scare them.” Now he was glaring at her, daring her to prove him wrong.  

She cut him a fulminating glower of her own, refusing to be cowed or scared by the likes of him, even if he was a demon.  By now, her fear of demons and what they could execute on humans had long since passed. “Tell me what?”

Naruto fidgeted uncomfortably prior to producing a hand mirror the size of a large mixing bowl and presented the item to her almost apologetically. “It’s easier for you to see than for us to explain to you. But Sakura...you have to understand, we had no choice. You were dying and this was the only method to save you.”  

Her hands nearly trembled as she accepted the mirror but her grip on the hard, curved edges remained strong. As she steadily tilted the mirror’s surface to reflect her visage, her fingers dug anxiously into the metallic, intricate frame until her knuckles were pale as cream, refusing to let go as Sakura came face-to-face with the monster in the mirror. 

Brilliant garnet, gold, emerald, and topaz feathers stuck out along her wide forehead like a crown, skimmed the bridge of her nose before disappearing completely. The same array of feathers poked out in tufts behind her short, pink hair, no doubt coming out from the upper section of her back. These same luxurious feathers coated at least half of her arms and when Sakura tried to shift around to see how far those feathers went, she caught one of her motionless wings out of the corner of her eye. 

For Kami’s sake, I have wings now?!

Still unable to speak, Sakura reached out behind her and felt her fingertips brush up against the bend of her wing, the texture of the feathers firm, smooth, and silky soft. A little tingle jolted up her spine as she continued to touch or stroke her wings and reluctantly, she stopped. Wings were more sensitive than she realized. 

“Sakura?” Naruto’s tentative, worried tone brought the said young woman out of her trance-like observation. His bright blue eyes looked utterly wretched and pleaful as their gazes crossed again that Sakura couldn’t find it in her heart to be so angry at him, even if this transmogrify changed her life forever, in a way she never expected nor was prepared for.

“Was my condition really that severe?” she asked quietly, first looking at him and then Gaara for confirmation. While Gaara tilted his head to the side and barely nodded, Naruto’s head bobbed up and down rigorously like an unstoppable ball. 

“There was so much blood that Gaara had to be away from you at first--blood kind of excites him, you see,” Naruto quickly explained, unaware of Gaara scowling darkly at him or Sakura’s eyebrows rising high at this new information about one of her rescuers. “But he calmed down once I tried to heal your injuries or wake you up, but you were unresponsive. I think you might have broken a couple of bones but I couldn’t tell.”

“What we could tell was that your soul was faint and fading fast,” Gaara interjected, brushing past Naruto to take a seat next to Sakura. His tawny tail brushed up against her wings and Sakura suppressed an involuntary flutter that spread across her shoulders. “Naruto felt guilty that our chase led you to your demise and wanted to save your life by turning you into a demon, one of us.”

“What about you?” Sakura found herself asking, leveling her eyes with his, unafraid to confront and meet his seemingly intense scrutiny. Up close, she noticed black rings outlined his upper and lower eyelids, making him seem less imposing and more...cute? 

Focus, Sakura! Now is not the time to be thinking like that!

“I agreed to help Naruto only to stop his blubbering,” he answered curtly, ignoring Naruto bristling and squawking with outrage at his blunt remark. He paused, cocking his head at her as if she suddenly became a fascinating creature to him. “But I must admit, I was rather curious to find a dying mortal being cradled by the branches and roots of the forest.”

Sakura’s jaw dropped at the last part of his admission. “Wait, what are you talking about? Before I passed out, I certainly didn’t see any trees coming to support me. Yes, it was getting dark out and yet—”

Yet she did hear a strange voice in her ears, echoing all over the forest while she was slowly dying but simply chalked the noise up to hallucination due to her blood loss. Perhaps she didn’t imagine those words at all and there was really a spirit of the woods watching over her.

Her realization must have dawned evidently on her face for Gaara sensed it immediately and narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Yet what? What do you remember?” he demanded.

This time, Naruto was the one sending him a glare. “Calm down, Gaara! She just had a near death experience and has to adjust to being a demon now. Give her a break, will you?” Growling, Gaara turned his furiously at him and the two demons were about to dissolve into another snarling, bickering match if Sakura didn’t speak up.

“I heard a voice, while I was bleeding out.” Both their heads snapped back to her, completely focused on her and her alone. “I can’t remember everything but the woman or whoever the voice came from, told me to sleep a couple of times. And for me to let you two save me, I think.” Eyelids now closed shut, Sakura wracked her brain to think back on those terrifying moments, where she was battling to stay awake and in vain attempting to move when the voice first came to her. The voice definitely wanted her to not be awake when Naruto and Gaara found her but why? Was it because she needed rest for her injuries and the impending transformation and the spirit sensed that? If that random theory was true, then why would a spirit of the forest care about her?

Gaara and Naruto exchanged pensive looks. “That does sound like something Kaguya would do,” the fox demon pointed out, donning a wary expression. “I know she’s supposedly dead and all but maybe her spirit does live on in the trees of that forest. The Tadasu no Mori was known to be her favorite resting place.”

Unlike Naruto, Gaara’s visage was unreadable. “It’s possible. And when she was alive, she was known to transform human mortals into demons.” 

Not wanting to be left in the dark about the spirit or woman who had some contribution in saving her life, Sakura chimed in, “Who is Kaguya? Was she a demon like you?”

Both of the demons nodded, their expressions completely somber. “She was one of the oldest of our kind but as the years dragged on, she became bitter towards both humans and demons alike and sought to bring about the destruction of this world and begin anew with her chosen few.” 

Shocked, Sakura could only stare at them and nodded silently, wondering how her village and people elsewhere never learned about such a catastrophe. Humans had stories and warnings about demons but nothing about a tale regarding an embittered demoness who craved to incite the end of the world and start a new one. Naruto’s face softened as he continued.   

“There was a long, bloody war between Kaguya and her allies versus those who opposed her. The humans that did get sucked into this conflict either perished or died soon after before they could pass along their memories of the war and fighting alongside demons as friends.”

“That or no one believed them and ruled their words as ‘outlandish tall tales’,” Gaara cut in sardonically. “But that’s besides the point. Kaguya was eventually slain in battle, her supporters either dead or capitulated. Her corpse was destroyed, the ashes scattered in Tadasu no Mori. If she is the voice you heard, then we’ll have to be more careful.”   

Despite her head swimming with news that there had been a dangerous, secret war between demons and to an extent, humans, Sakura frowned at the cautious tone in Gaara’s voice. “‘We’?” she echoed. “Why do we need to be careful? Kaguya is dead and long gone now. Even if her spirit was with me in those woods, she couldn’t hurt us, could she?”

“No, but she still has loyal allies waiting in the shadows that survived the aftermath. Some have tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to revive her while others assay to continue what she started. And they would be quite intrigued with a human girl who was changed into a demon, a phoenix demon no less. Our whole kind would be. There hasn’t been a phoenix demon nor metamorphosis like yours in centuries.”

“But don’t worry!” Naruto chimed in cheerily, hoping to alleviate Sakura’s trepidation of how interested other demons would be in her. “Gaara and I will protect you! If you stay with us and our two clans, no demon can come along and snatch you up without starting a territory dispute. We can even show you how to use and train your powers as a demon!”

That offer definitely had merit and would certainly come in handy in this new world of demons and their own brand of politics and schemes. As touched as she was with Naruto’s vow of protection, she wanted to be able to better defend herself and learn what she was capable of in this new demon body of hers. The wings and feathers would still take some time to get used to. 

“Weren’t you two arguing earlier about who I get to stay with though? Why the change of heart?” she said, a teasing edge in her voice. 

Naruto’s cheeks flushed a vibrant vermilion, embarrassed as he sputtered and then mumbled up some excuses about ‘the strength of two is better than one’ and that ‘they didn’t know about Kaguya at the time’. Gaara remained po-faced through it all but his lips did curve up in a half-smirk. In the back of her mind, Sakura wondered what he’d look like if he fully smiled. Naruto’s features always lit up so infectiously when he beamed at her. He was like the sun.

“It’s okay, Naruto,” she interjected, reaching out to touch his hand and halting him in mid-rambling. “I understand. Thank you, both of you, for offering me shelter. Being a demon...it will take some time for me to get used to that. Especially since it seems I cannot go back home, right? Or am I wrong?” Deep down, she clinged to the absurd hope that maybe she’d be safe in the village, that while everyone would be flabbergasted or scandalized at her new form, they’d learn to accept her monstrous transmogrification and carry on with their day. But that vain hope flickered out and ebbed away like a small ember in the firesite when she witnessed the plaintive sympathy flashing in Naruto’s cerulean eyes or the disapproving expression overtaking Gaara’s pale features.

“No, you’re not wrong, Sakura-chan,” the fox demon admitted ruefully. “If you go back to your village...things can go poorly.” 

“You will be killed or imprisoned. And I would slaughter the fools who harmed any part of you, down to a single hair on your head.” groused Gaara, arms crossed resolutely. Sakura didn’t doubt him. There was no way she would risk the village being subjugated to his wrath simply because she missed her home and wanted to reveal herself to those closest to her in hope they would understand and accept her. They might but that didn’t mean the neighbors would. There was a reason why some towns had trained demon hunters and while her hamlet didn’t have any professionals like that, the village leaders could easily request one of the nearby settlements to let them borrow some of theirs.  

Her vibrant wings spread out, only a little for her feathery, colorful bends to be able to brush against her cheek, as if to comfort her. So much had betided to her in less than a day, even though time seemed to have stretched itself for weeks. “You don’t have to worry about me sneaking off to go back to my village,” she replied dejectedly, reaching to card her fingers through the differing layers of feathers her wings seemed to have. She couldn’t mull about what she lost besides her humanity.

And shishou must be worried sick by now since I haven’t returned back to her clinic yet…

Eyes widening in remembrance, Sakura snapped her head over to her basket of herbs, relieved to still see it lying there, untouched. She didn’t imagine its existence after all!

“Demons can cast illusions and shapeshift, can’t they?” she queried abruptly, startling both Naruto and Gaara with her out of the blue question. Their eyes watched her as she twisted around to pluck the basket up from the ground and cradled it in her arms. 

“Yeah, fox demons like me excel at both those abilities,” admitted Naruto proudly. He then elbowed his fellow demon playfully. “Gaara over here can cast a glamor but it won’t last as long as my illusions. Why do you ask, Sakura-chan?”

All right, this idea of mine just might work. I simply need to get both of them to agree with my request, Gaara in particular. He might not like what I have to say.

Toying with a stray piece of straw from the basket’s handle, Sakura replayed the words in her head one more time before voicing what was on her mind. “I know we already discussed me returning home is a terrible idea for me but my village needs these plants I gathered for them earlier. If you two use your illusions and glamor, the three of us could safely enter my village without issue. When I find my shishou, I deliver the plants to her, and once we say our farewells, we’ll leave.” The pinkette looked down at her basket, the source that landed her into this new life of hers. “It will be too risky and dangerous for me to go alone so I figured if the three of us go, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

Frowning, Gaara opened his mouth, probably to object, but Naruto quickly cut over him to exclaim, “Of course we’ll help you, Sakura-chan! It’s the least we can do.” He tilted his head at Gaara expectantly prior to adding, “Right, Gaara?”

The said demon cursed profusely, continuing to frown irately even as he agreed with Naruto to accompany her to the village but warned her he wouldn’t tolerate any delays or side-trips. 

“Just give your teacher those herbs and we leave immediately,” Gaara had told her flatly before he cast a glamor over himself to appear normal, like an ordinary human while Naruto’s illusion cloaked both him and Sakura. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll have time to say goodbye to your teacher,” he whispered as he weaved the illusion over them, winking conspiratorially at her. “You ready?”

She nodded firmly. “Yes. Let’s go.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They ended up staying in her village a little bit longer than Gaara wanted but he suffered in silence, uttering nothing to anyone when Sakura embraced her shishou and presented the long awaited herbs, apologizing for the wait. Like Naruto, the tanuki demon remained close by Sakura’s side, his eyes observing every little movement, a sentinel ready to turn into a vicious warrior if there was any hint of Sakura being threatened. Tsunade, Sakura’s mentor and mother figure, merely raised her eyes at the two strangers but didn’t comment on their presence at first. She directed her attention back to her apprentice, relieved to see her safe and sound after all this time but was simultaneously puzzled when Sakura announced she had to depart the village and didn’t know when she’d be coming back.

“But Sakura, I don’t understand. What do you mean you’re leaving?” Her honey brown eyes moved from her apprentice to Naruto and Gaara, suspicion etched on her features. While Gaara stoically glared right back at her, Naruto at least attempted to act congenial by beaming toothily and waving awkwardly at Tsunade. “Do these boys have anything to do with this peculiar decision of yours?”  

Sort of. But it’s complicated.

Instead, Sakura answered, “It’s a long story, shishou, but they helped me. And right now, I just can’t stay here any more, not for a while.” Or ever. 

However, she kept that dismal line of thought to herself, stowing it in the darkest recesses of her mind because she didn’t want contemplate the possibility that this could be the last time she’d ever behold her teacher again, the only person who truly cared about her dreams and desires and offered her an apprenticeship in medicine. And if Tsunade believed there was a chance she’d see her apprentice again, then she might be more accepting in letting Sakura go with Gaara and Naruto with minimal fuss.

Even though the urge to tell Tsunade the truth, to break down in her arms and sob that she was no longer human and wouldn’t be welcomed anymore by the people who once thanked her for treating their wounds and ailments, fiercely chewed her up minute by minute, clawing at her to cave in. Instead, she steeled herself against Tsunade’s observant scrutiny and dug her fingertips into her besmirched apron, thankfully only covered in dirt and grass stains and not her own blood.

Tsunade regarded her carefully, her gaze never wavering for at least thirty seconds or so until she let out a heavy sigh and her shoulders sagged. “I know what it was like and what I craved for when I was your age so I won’t press you, Sakura. But please visit me when you can and don’t forget your training. I long to see you become a top physician in your right.” The older woman smiled fondly at her, patting her head as Sakura brightened at Tsunade’s remarks. Even with such little information given to her, Tsunade still believed in her and trusted her judgment. Maybe one day, she’ll tell Tsunade what really happened, after she became wholly accustomed to her demon body.

“Thank you, shishou. I promise I won’t let you down!” 

Her mentor nodded firmly, satisfied with the fiery resolve blooming across Sakura’s visage. “I’ll hold you to that promise, Sakura. And as for your two ‘friends’...” She turned around fully to face them with the full force of her disapproving glower and cracked her knuckles. “If either one or both of you cause my Sakura any amount of grief, pain, and misery and she doesn't break enough bones in your body, then I will personally see to it the two of you won’t be able to walk or eat solid foods for several months. Do I make myself clear?”

Despite being a demon, Naruto immediately bobbed his head, blue eyes wide and alert. “Yes, m’am!”

Gaara grunted but nodded his head slowly, unfazed by Tsunade’s menace. He probably found her mentor’s violent words amusing, just like Sakura’s presence was to him. 

Sakura groaned in her hands. Thankfully, there were no more outbursts and threats and three of them managed to leave Tsunade’s home with Naruto and Gaara in one piece. She had no idea what would be in store in her when she ventured into the world of demons, yet at least she wasn’t doing this journey alone. 

Stretching out her motley wings to get used to their height and wingspan, Sakura watched Gaara and Naruto unlock the complex  illusion that was cast over the main gateway into their clans’ lands and closed her eyes in relief. Yes, at least she wasn’t alone and would have help along the way in training and harnessing her demonic abilities and one day, be able to fly on her own. She was looking forward to that part.

“The stories got it all wrong,” she murmured to herself. “Demons aren’t so terrible after all.”  

[c-atm]

Steven Universe, The Alien hybrid demon hunter, who bared a pink gem as his belly button.

Connie Maheswaran, succubus heiress of the Maheswaran lineage.

Usually, there would be flirty bantering. Usually, this would be amusing. 

Amusing and exciting.

Fun...This should be fun. Like every other time before this. Their fighting.

"So...Mister hunter? How many times has your back slammed against my grounds, huh? Twenty...Thirty? I've seemed to have lost count." The heiress teased as she looked at the body spread flat on the ground. 

He was bulky and short, coming up to her lips, made of round muscle and slightly peach skin. His round face bore a round button nose, big, round heterochromia eyes of chocolate and strawberry, and a curly black unkept pompadour.

He wore a simple outfit of a black cotton collar shirt, pink baggy leg jeans, and a pair of pink sandals; his relaxed wear, as he called it and one of the first signs that something was awry.

"You know, under different circumstances. I would be thrilled at a 'night-cap' from you."

"Shameless Succubus!" He glared intensely at his shocked rival, a bit red-faced at her insinuation, the same one she always makes. 

That and her appearance.

Brazil nut-brown skin with thin, rich-ridge lips painted in lips balm the same pink of his gem. Midnight gleaming eyeshadow on her wide-set, protruding eyes with full S-shape brows and a small hook nose on an oblong face. Hair of ombrè chestnut in a right-side braid and a left-side wavy-fizzy hair flow to her tailbone and front of the madams’ eye.

With a body made for battle and bedding, she decorated her well-muscled, statuesque, and luscious bottom hourglass figure with a cleavage presenting, independence blue, off-the-shoulder, sheer swallowtail crop top with a black strapless bra underneath; A Sacramento-green mesh, extreme double split maxi skirt with tight-fitting, mint bikini briefs underneath. On her feet was a pair of silk, bluebell-colored open toe ankle socks. As both the crystal charm on her leather choker and tattoo-like birthmark above the center of her breast, was the insignia of her ancestry, the lion eating the star in a shade of blue entirely her own

"Do you still wanna keep this up, Stevie?" She questioned a slightly more worried.

He sneered in pain at his worn body and irritation at her teasing tone.  "Is this a game to you!?" His roar got a more resonant laugh from Connie's cohorts and a frozen neutral look from her. 'There's the second sign. He's never this irritable.'

"It is, It's the only reason why Madam Maheswaran hasn't killed you yet."

He turned his sight to the far left of their strawberry and bluebell battlefield. Thereupon a slightly inclined slope on a blanket resided two people; one man and one woman.

The one who commented was an umber ma, youthful, tall, and broadly built with a slight beard, thick-peaked brows, and a faded haircut of onyx. Square-faced with deep-set eyes were a hickory shade, hick lips of chestnut hiding a fanged mouth, and a big flared nose.

He wore a black, sleeveless, double slit longline shirt of silk, with a lion’s crimson design eating a star on the left breast. Smoke colored, loose legged slacks held up by a black snake skinned belt with a belt buckle shaped like a sword, and a pair of leather jodhpur boots of apple. Each of his wrists bore an icy blue cuff bracelet of unknown crystal. 

On his lap, the woman's head laid as she looked on with the same face of amusement. Heart-faced with tawny skin,  cupid-bow lips made up in mahogany paint, russet hooded eyes with short-diagonal brows, a medium-sized button nose, and loose curly black hair that fell to her mid-back.

She wore a sand-colored, thigh-length, pointed collar shirt that cascaded over her figure. Leg exposing, hip accentuating, short khaki pants of coconut; hazelwood T-bar wedges with beaded anklets made out of the same icy crystal as the man's bracelets. Her shirt bore the same emblem as her compatriot.

"Daniel, please…We shouldn't tease her guest so." The woman in his lap taunted their mistresses' adversary, before sighing as he ran his fingers upon her scalp.

"Patricia is right," Connie began with a soft jest, putting on her usual act. "We should honor this brave hunter of the night, for his continuous service to a city of infrared, dishonorable businessmen, and prejudice filled people. All for the hope of a mighty payday.." The madam spoke in a ridiculing flirt as her opponent stood to his feet, anger, and frustration on his face. "Ah, he stands again.” She applauded with a golf clap, hoping to get a rise out of him. “That gem biology makes you quite the sturdy playmate. Can't help but wonder how much it will take to make you. break." She licked her lips, a libidinous sparkle in her black pearl eyes. 

"Take this seriously, monster!" 

'She's not!' Steven's heart and mind screamed.

"Be silent." The hunter growled to himself as he flexed his wrist and a shimmering pink circular shield with light blue edges, and a swirl design on its face with a gem at the very center appeared, covering his left forearm. He glared intensely at his shocked rival, a bit red-faced at her insinuation, the same one she always makes.

"M-Monster, me? Just because I'm a succubus does not mean I am a monster." She folded her under her breast, giving them a bit of rising as she pouted. “That’s a bit too far, don’t you think, Biscuit? Don’t seem me calling you ‘hybrid’ or ‘alien’?”

“Shut up!” Steven roared, throwing his shield toward her neck at blinding speed. 

Maheswaran stood looking amused as a black devil-like tail shot from right below the curve of her back, destroying the construct by piercing its face from above. “Seems like your losing vigor, Biscuit. Wanna take a break?” She offered him a gentle smile. “Maybe explain why you’re taking this so seriously.”

'Connie, it's not me!' 

'She can't hear you. So be silent! As I do your job!'

Steven glared at creating a wall of eighteen spiked hexagonal constructs in front of him. “The only break I want…" 

'No!' Steven roared, helplessly watching his body and hear his voice act.

"Is your broken body.” He snapped his fingers, launching the constructs at her like missiles. 

‘So cold…” She thought as she took to the sky to dodged the projectiles. Even as they chased her, she was able to escape, skipping on the currents of the air as if it was a stage for dancing.’ He’s really trying to kill me, huh?’ She vaulted over two, causing them to crash and shattered each other before whipping her tail in a half-circle, destroying four more. ‘This aggression, it’s much different from our usual game,’ She dodged the remaining twelve by leaping, diving, and propelling herself within the air. She looked down at the hunter sadly.

They had done this so many times before fought and clashed against each other, that it seemed like a greeting between them.

Sometimes it was to break her boredom. Sometimes it was for him to get information on a target he was chasing. Sometimes it was circumstance, and sometimes...It was an excuse and gateway to other emotional actions and personal moments

It is a key part of their communication and bond. One full of passion, competition, and vigor. That, more than not, led to teasing and flirting; and at rare times, touching and exploring each other—many in this very field, numerous times throughout the five years of their association. 

She cherished their matches; they allowed her to get closer to him.

Unlike this,  whatever it is. Which only made her vary of its conclusion.

 "What happened to you, Steven?" She whispered before finding herself surrounded. 

‘Uh-oh.’

'Berry!?'

Steven watched as his constructs slammed, pierced, shattered upon her body. The sounds of her flesh ripping, bones crushing, and blood drowned screams brought him an unrelenting pain in his chest. His eyes followed as she fell from the sky headfirst. He ignored the hate-filled stares of her two cohorts as he walked towards her body. Even now, they respected her request to not interfere with the battle.

She wasn’t moving at all. Her body was mangled, slashed, torn, and twisted. Her blood was splattered on the ground, her innard and organs in public view; eyes opened, unfocused and lifeless, surrounded by bluebells. “Even as a corpse, you’re so damn sinfully beautiful.” His body chuckled as it dropped to its knees, wiping a spontaneous tear from his left pink eye. "Well, wonder whose tear this is? Yours over your dead demon slut or mines on finally getting revenge on the Maheswaran family."

"I'm a thousand percent

 sure it's yours."

Steven's body didn't have a moment to answer; a black vortex erupted from Connie's corpse. The doppelganger covered its eyes with Steven's forearms, from the force of the wind as it scarred the earth, scattered bluebells, and splattered strawberries alike. That when he felt it.

Her clawed hand, pulling down his crossguard, followed by explosive pain as her fist connected with his left cheek, launching from where he was standing to a sitting position after his head crashed against something woody, thick, and hard. He felt dizzy and wholly disorientated as he shook his head. He was about to come to his feet when he felt the weight of a body up against his pelvis and strangely warm hands upon his nape and upper back, rubbing him sensually.

"Look at me." 

The dopple opened its eyes, and jaw dropped in a mixture of fear and wanting at the visage.

Connie Maheswaren, in all her relentlessly salacious, monstrously dangerous acclaim, stared down at the inserted personality. 

Her appearance didn't change too much; her figure now bore darker brown skin with streaks of 'her blue' along the curves of her torso and limbs. Protruding from her lower back on both sides of her spine were two sword-sharp, sleek bat-wings with metallic-looking, forest-colored 'fingers' and a patagium of the color of 'her blue.' Two smaller, horizontal wings protrude from the top of her head. Her devil tail wrapped around her waist. The most striking and power exuding aspect was her eyes. 

While still protruding, they now appeared monolid with kaleidoscopic irises of black, smoke, and her 'blue' shaped as four-point stars and slit pupils of the forest. He could not look away; they were dazzling, alluring, dangerous...Hypnotic.

"My beloved hunter, " She stroked his cheek, never breaking their gaze. Her voice soothing and adoring, "I'm going to save you." 

“Stop acting like we’re-"

"I'M NOT SPEAKING TO YOU, THIEF!" 

'Steven' shook in apprehension and alertness at the scowl and harshness cast in his direction. The chuckle of the real Steven resounding in the back of his mind didn't help.

"Now, " She hissed."You little false persona.  Look into my eyes. Listen to my voice. Feel my presence and open everything to Me~eee."

'Steven' couldn't say anything as he felt his control of the body loosen, his mouth dropping as his eyes took on her own, and the world slowly warped around Connie, her eyes remained unblinking. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, all he could do is stare as everything in the world except Connie went black before her visage too went dark.

When he came to, he saw himself in a space of black, pinks, and blues swirls and Cobblestone under his feet. 

"Well, looks who's come to join me."

'Steven' glared before turning to the voice behind him. There, in a makeshift cage of green like energy, stood the actual persona of Steven dressed in a similar outfit with the exception that his complete being was bathed in glowing pink.

"The astral plane?...My mindscape?…, My voice!"  the dopple eyes widened at the feminine voice before they waved their hands, creating a mirror to observe themselves. They glared at their reflection.

What was Steven universe, a few moments ago, now stood a small-statured, dwarf-like woman with a pixie haircut bathed in a bit, her face was round, and her aquamarine eyes were naturally narrowed, her nose was tiny and upturned, her lips were thin and volume-less. Adorned on her small triangle frame was a simple sleeveless collar shirt of ocean under a buttoned-up vest of cobalt, bracers of baby blue in her wrist, a flowing pencil skirt of the same color, thigh-high stockings, and black flats. Protruding from her back was two butterfly wings of powder blue

 "How? When?"  The woman inquired in anxious fear.

"Now aren't you cute..mini bodied and small-minded," Connie's taunting cackling shook the space. "Have you forgotten already?"

The dwarf-sized fairy shivered at the voice that seemed to reverberate throughout the area boomingly. "Did you hit your...His head that hard?"

"Cowardly, bitch of a demon whore! Show yourself!" The woman challenged as she stood ready for an attack.

"Now why would I, when I have you right where I want you?" 

"My berry makes a good point, part of the reason I never let her hypnotize me. The thought of her in my mind." He insulted his captor. 

The persona growled at her mental captive before smiling sinisterly. "I'm still in control here, " she snapped her fingers, and the cage around Steven morphed to a cross, strapping him in around his neck, wrists, and ankles. With a second snap, the cross slid across the cobblestone towards the mind thief, stopping before her sharp nails fingers pierced his neck. "I still have you, and I know she won't allow me to hurt you. Let alone eliminate your existence...WILL YOU, MADAM OF THE MAHESWARAN!"

Her yelling heed no results. Pure silence was all that answered her. "All that, and now you're just gonna let him die," she sneered, "as expected from the Maheswaran bloodline. They use you for their needs and are quick to betray when it suits them. Loyalty, valor, honor...means nothing to them." She turned to Steven, who was looking away. "Sorry, hunter, your succubi is an untrustworthy and betraying bitch. Just like her ancestors were to my family, that being said." 

"You don't know anything about her."Steven glared as she grabbed his head, making him face her.

She chuckled menacingly. "Ohoho...You two are sweet on each other, maybe more than sweet?... Such a lucky whore. Tasteful too…" She licked her lips as she peered her captive up and down. "She's right about you, though. Your body, your power; hell, bet if you weren't so under, I wouldn't be able to take residence as I have...I was lucky.. " 

She grinned before giving him a disrespectful kiss. "In your next life, choose carefully with the women you share time and drink with...Some of us are horrible creatures. Just like that damn succubus...Or little nymphs turned wraith, like me." She pulled her hand back, posed to strike.

 "So...How about you give me your last words to go along with the kiss and your sight. I'll make sure she'll receive them before I reunite you two in the nether...Promise."

Steven scowled at her struggling to break free. "She is going to kill you and every one of your kin for this."

"Not like there is any more of our marine's left, her forefathers seen to that...It's only fair that I take something she treasures." She shot her fingers forward. "Poor choice of  final words by the by!"

She beamed maniacally as her digits dug into Steven's throat, feeling the warmth of his essence as 'blood' dribbled rapidly from her penetrations. She watched as his eyes widened and teared up as he choked up…

"Bluebell petals?" The Marine whispered in alarm as the petals fell from his mouth and his head drooped forward before he formed a victorious smile.

"You foolish lost soul," 'Steven' tittered as he transformed into Connie's visage, "you really think you are in control."  Connie's form detonated in a flurry of petals, blinding the nymph, who struggled to clear her vision, swinging her arms wildly in a struggle. When her vision finally cleared, she found herself back to the field, thoroughly dyed in her blue.

"I'm back outside?"

"No. You're not, little soul."

The Marine shivered as she looked over her shoulder to see Connie. Her form shadowed by her moon, the only thing visible being her fierce gleaming eyes and slasher smile. 

"Welcome to your grave." The succubus greeted as the now horrified soul shot to escape, only to find the efforts futile as Connie just seemed to glide closer to her. Her smile is growing more, the closer she gets.

"Demon! Devil! You Mahe-"

The stems of bluebells silenced the screaming by wrapping themselves around the spirit's throat, wrist, waist, and ankles before pinning her to the turf, strangling and slicing into her flesh, letting the blood run into the ground as the bullwhip, leather-like stems moved and tightened themselves second by second. 

"You know, a part of me wonders what your beef could be with the Maheswaran? What horrible thing my ancestors could have done to your family? Well, maybe they killed yours or something...Possibly, a blood feud," she watched as her victim tried to speak, only to step on her opponent's chest cavity crushing it under her heel, grinding her heel deep, making her silently and gaspingly scream, "but you know what...It doesn't matter, before my time, and I refuse to pay the debts of my ancestors." 

Connie chuckled, seeing struggle under her heel." Awe. You almost got a sound out that time…" Her voice got frigid as she stomped again. "I'm not one for grudges, and usually turn my enemies to companions or corpses...I guess you know where you fit, but that fault's on your head." Her voice got louder as she stomped again."You had the nerve to take control of my beloved hunter body."

And again. "Disgraced an essential facet of our relationship."

And again. "For some revenge,"

She snarled again before yelling. "THAT HE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH!" She slammed her foot into the nymph's chest, caving it in as the stems cut and slashed deep into the nymph's body, spraying blood as it did, staining the bluebells. "That's the only reason why you are in this position...If you had just stepped up and attacked me straightforwardly, I would have been a lot more lenient. Even praised you for the prowess of your mental power." 

"Ah..ahh..arghh."

"Tsch! Now you got something to say. Are you trying to apologize? Famous last words perhaps, you no name ghost from the past? Come on, let me hear them...Before I reunite you with your dead bloodline.".

Connie watched as her victim fought to speak, her eyes leaking blood due to the constructing, slashing, spinning stems.

" My. My na-"

"Don't care. Die." 

The nymph's final sight was Connie's bored face as she slammed her heel into her skull. Unaware that she would be nothing more than another soul added to the succubus collection. To be added to her strength.

Connie signed as she watched the soul limbs and head popped off due to the squeezing of the stems. Everything that was the nymph dropped and spilled onto the ground before being l absorbed by the soil, causing it to glow in Connie's unique blue, producing more bluebells and strawberries.

"Sheesh, I'm not even close to the family, and I'm cleaning up their blood feuds." Connie scratched her head with a sigh. "still..she touched my heart, wasn't going to let that slide...Speaking of." With a smile, she closed her as she vanished from her field to appear at an evening beach with a sky of pinks and oranges and water of a midnight blue. She opened her eyes in awe at space before her eyes caught him, sitting at the beach shore a calm look on his face.

She couldn't help her grin and excitement as she flew towards her hunter, "Stee~ven!"

The hunter looked surprised before he felt a body barreled into him and knocked them both into the sandy turf. He groaned as he cleared his view and took notice of who knocked him over and now straddling his hips.

"Hey, Connie." He reached up, rubbing her cheek. "You saved me."

"Yeah." she smiled, nuzzling into his palm as her tail swished behind her happily, "I'm so mad at you, though." She kissed his palm. "How you let a wraith take over your body? Your mental fortitude needs some reinforcement."

He picked up on the accusation and growled in insult, "Hey, that's not fair, she tricked and drugged me." 

"Which brings me to another insult." Connie grabbed his hand, squeezing in anger. "How'd you allow yourself to get tricked? Aren't you an experienced hunter? What could have thrown your guard off?".

He sat up and gave her a piercing stare." Well, excuse me for being tired from hunting a daemon armory and wanting to relax a bit; how was I supposed to know that I was getting wrapped up in some revenge plot? All I wanted was to drink and relax."

"In the company of another woman."  

He grinned at the pout in her voice. "Is that a problem, madam? I am a free agent."

Connie turned away, not wanting him to see her blush. "Oh, you're free to do whatever…" She held him close around his upper back and nape, laying his head upon her family crest, "but look where it got you."

"My head between your breast, worth it."

"You, being turned to a puppet."

"The wiles of women is a dangerous weapon." Steven wrapped his right arm around her hips. "As a succubus, you should know and respect that fact."

"Why does it seem you are trying to pick a fiiighhhooohom."

She was interrupted by the tingling sensation of him stroking her tail near the base, making her mewl in pleasure as she increased her grip on him. "Hunt~hm," she was interrupted by his index and thumb squeezing her tail."Hmm.Steven."

 He ran his hand up the full length squeezing as he did.

Mmmmm~aah, Biiis~cuit." With a purr, she nuzzled into the crook of his neck. "You cheat." Her voice was softened as she gave the smallness of bites into his left trapezius muscle, puncturing it and sinking a spell into him and making him groan before a flame of fear in him.

"Connie?! What did you just-"

"Shut up and accept my protection." She held him close, peppering the bite mark with cat-like licks.

"I  just got my body freed, from a mind controlling...Whatever."

"Wraith. A vengeful lost spirit." She informed, before her licks turned to nips. Smiling as the hunter relaxed lightly, his hands palms her hips...

"Right...Anyway, that was a bit sudden, don't you think?"

She chuckled. "Do you think I would take over your body, as she did?" 

Steven heard the hurt behind the laughter and waved his hand. "No..."

She heard the uncertainty in his speech. "Then why do you seem so apprehensive?"

"It just...She was in your image, Berry…" He admitted, feeling her go still.

"Well...that explains a lot.." The shame was thick in her throat before giving way to fierce anger. 'That, little nymph...Her death was too good for her, and now I made a part of my energy. Disgusting…How dare she tarnish how he sees me? Make him wary of me?'

"You're thinking very loud in my mind," Steven whispered into her ear. "Forgot how to hide your thoughts within a person's mindscape?"

"I haven't!" She shot him a glare, sitting straight with fang displaying grimace and fist balled tightly. "So...are you afraid of me now?"

"You did kick my body ass." He attempted to joke.

"IT'S NOT A JOKING MATTER!" The succubus cried. "That little… She used our bond against me...They violated our connection." She looked down. "Made you cautious of me." 

"Which makes this perfect time for a joke, "Steven noted, nonchalantly. " Relieve the tension."

"You foolish hunter," She wiped her eyes to prevent a tear to be shown, "with our history, you should be cautious, right? First time I'm in your mind, and I put something in you without your permission, yeah, that's trustworthy." The sarcasm was thick in her voice. "No wonder you always kept your mental guards up."

"Well, If I let my guard down, I'll be completely enthralled by you.." Steven spoke truthfully with a grin.

"I'm not a fledgling... I can control my enthralling, and we're getting off subject."

"The subject is how I feel about you." Steven chuckled at her prideful acclaim. "Also, wasn't talking about magic or powers." He rubbed his shoulder where she bit him, looking away, feeling a bit exposed. "We've been…' In league' with each other for half a decade, and I never felt cautious or wary towards you, our first few meetings, being the exceptions."

"But you do have some concerns about us, presently," she folded her arms around her mid-section.

Steven nodded."Yeah, it'a fight to keep my mind focused when you're around…" 

"I thought you weren't talking about powers."

"I'm not. I'm talking about my 'affection' for you, about how over five years of receiving your attention, affection, honest actions... You have my heart...Enthrall me even more. "

She looked at his bashful yet steely expression but remained to stay silent.

"and that'll be trouble...For both of us."

She took in his words understanding the weight behind them, a confession of love and fear for her. She shook her head before tracing his jaw with her fingers.

"Is that what you are afraid of, that something like this will happen again?"

Steven gave an affirmative hum. "We both have enemies, me being a demon hunter and the animosity towards your family being passed down to you. It's quite feasible."

"I suppose so…" Connie nodded before laying her forehead upon his. "I'm willing to face them if you are, "

"What?!"

 She nearly broke into a giggle fit, looking at his surprised look. "What? you thought I was going to run?"

" My body was used to fight you without mercy." Guilt drenched his voice.

"And without your normal hunter attire. Red flag 1."

"..Tried to kill you broke, and pierced and minced your body." 

"Thought they succeeded too, where you would have known better. Hurt like hell, though. Red flag 2."

Steven looked away toward his lap. "My voice called you a monster."

 "Can't say it didn't shatter my heart when I heard it, but it did serve as the most significant red flag." She lifted his face to look at her own by the chin. 

"It should have, "He wrapped his arms around her seat and lower back before holding her close and in place." It's something I never would do.

"You love me too much to do so." She grinned before sticking her tongue out in tease before chuckling gently.

"I really do." 

 "I know...it's one of the ways you've enchanted my heart, just as much as I've done yours." She smiled before stealing a kiss upon his lips. She hummed, feeling him kiss back, their lips locking and relocking upon each they sucked, nipped, and clipped through the oral passion for one another.  

Steven trembled as he felt something slipped into his mind again, just like when she bit him. It was layered and heavy but warm. 

The warmest thing he ever felt. 

it scared him a bit how much he wanted to stay within that warmth, to the point of forcing him to break the kiss and look at her in suspicion. "What are you doing to me?"

"Nothing bad." She spoke reassuringly before looking down. "I promise."

"Connie." He growled.

"Just adding a few layers of defense to protect you from attacks like that nymphs." she looked up from under her lids.  "So, you can relax easier."

"That's twice you did something without my knowing, mind you." He arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

She turned to the sea, the sand, and the sky. "Your mindscape is so vibrant, and beautiful, I've always wondered what it looked like..what it would be like to come here...This place is where the real you reside...The cumulation of your life experiences." She turned to Steven. "And someone invaded, pushed this back and replaced it with their own. I don't want that to happen again." Connie explained earnestly. "Your mindscape should be just that, yours. Overzealous, as I prone to be. I tried to take measures to ensure that, so I'm sorry for not asking for permission...but I won't apologize for protecting you."

Steven scratched the back of his head with an embarrassed blush at her blunt, proud explanation. "Fine, I get it. You could have warned me, though, let me know that the kiss was for mental protection."

"I also really wanted you to feel my affection for you." She admitted with her sly expression.

Steven's face glowed as he chuckled  "is that what that warmth was?" He grinned as Connie held him around his shoulders."Funny since your body seems to run cold.

"Well...It's something that can only be done in this corporeal state." She answered with a giggle as he nipped at her neck.

"You love me." He teased, expecting her to respond with the same energy. He was surprised when the prideful succubus held him tight.

"So much." Her whisper was full of sincere adoration. As her tail danced back and forth behind her, "I love you so much, Steven..and I think it's time I show it," her voice took on a luscious tone, "the way only a my kind can." 

Steven smirked, "I had sex with succubi before."

Connie blushed, laughing a bit before kissing his lips. "Oh, I know..but you never really made love to one."

"You've been holding out, madam?" He patted her rear, getting a peep.

"No, Mr.Hunter." The succubus shook her head with a sly smile. "I knew it was going to happen. I just wanted to be on the same page about our..."

"Lovers Relationship," Steven added calmly, watching Connie's cheeks blush in her azure like blue, as she nodded.

 It's just a whole different experience than the usual feasting or romp." She bit her lips at the hunter, "Even though they are spectacular."

"So, what's the difference between the two?" 

Connie couldn't stop the grin nor the cyclone of warmth adoration from her core that Steven's honest curiosity brought. "You'll find out." she held his shoulders. "Tomorrow night." She added, her eyes glowing with anticipation. 

"Tomorrow night, huh?" 

"Is there a problem with that?" 

Steven heard Connie's slight disappointment and quickly shook his head. "None at all...Just figured we could make a date out of this.." he said with a grin. "I did get a good payday for the last job, so I -"

"Yes! " Connie yelped, surprising them both." I mean." Connie paused. Before shaking her head. "I meant exactly how I yelled it. Yes!"

"Ok, then. We'll make a whole evening and night of it. "

Connie nodded with a laugh. "Yes, we will." She sighed and closed her eyes, "but for now, we should return to the physical plane…" 

"True enough. I'm ready." Steven encouraged as he watched Connie's eyes opened, revealing the kaleidoscope visage from before.

"Look into my eyes. Heed my words, when your lips meet mine, you'll return to the waking world." 

Steven felt the same loss of control and consciousness as the nymph as his eyes took on the same image as Connie's, and his mouth dropped open; still, there was a bit of heightened awareness. The feel of Connie's lips on Steven's owns felt like a bolt of electricity to his very heart. Steven felt shot back into the physical world, gasping at the feel of oxygen running through his body as he sat up quickly

 He opened his eyes to a dark elegant bedroom with a gothic and south Asian feel. The walls were painted in crimson with bluebells designs, a mahogany mirror dresser by the southern wall between the washroom and the entrance, a walk-in closet to the western border with a balcony overlooking Connie's field across from that. 

"Hmmm, I'm back," Steven said as he leaned back down when he felt something cuddle closer to him under the blue silk blanket with the Maheswaran insignia in gold, currently over him. 

He pulled the blanket and was greeted with the sight of Connie hugging his abdomen with her arms, wings, and tail around his waist. Her head on his heart, smiling as she slumbered. The light of the moon bestowing her an ethereal glow.

Steven sighed as he brought her closer, stroking his lover's cheek before slumber took him as well. His last thought on the following night.

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Lock Picking Seducer (Gudako, Romulus-Quirinus)

She’d wanted vengeance.

Not because her pride was broken or her spirit had been wounded; no, she wanted vengeance for the sole purpose of not being seen as some kind of sibling or platonic love. She had looked up at those eyes, given away a deep kiss, and she’d been drowned in his presence for far too long. If he was going to drown her in him, she wanted the whole works. She wanted to be swept up in the waves of his caresses, the breathtaking moments where bodies would connect, and the sound of it all.

That was why she was at his door late that evening, picking at the lock just like how Billy had shown her.

Was this a bad plan? Yeah, she was pretty sure it was.

Did she have a back up plan? No, not unless saying there was a fight that they needed to go to was a backup plan. It wouldn’t explain how his door was unlocked or how she had gotten in his room.

“Got it!”

Gudako beamed as the door clicked. She pressed her fingers against the metal door, preparing to push it open when she felt it moving.

Her eyes drifted upwards, finding Romulus-Quirinus standing before her.

“…Master.”

Her lock picking equipment was still in the door.

She had her hair tied back to keep it out of her face for this process.

She was wearing gloves.

Guilty was written over her every feature and Gudako couldn’t think of a word to say to the man right now because of that.

Still, Romulus-Quirinus stared at her and then the door before he pulled the door open further.

“Come in.”

Come in.

Just like that, he was letting her into his space, despite the obvious signs that she had been trying to bust her way into his room.

Well…

Gudako removed her gloves, pulling her lock picking equipment from the door and back into their leather pouch.

“Thanks, Roma.”

He had a flair to the way that he closed the door. Gudako could feel him follow her to the small sitting area in his room. The fireplace crackling lightly.

Why is it that all of the servants somehow make their rooms have features that are pretty against code?

She would be drowning in paperwork if anyone caught sight of this fireplace and these high vaulted ceilings. It didn’t make any sense that his room felt like it was two stories tall. In fact, it made her question what room was on the next floor up in the building.

She was pretty sure there was a janitor’s closet at least.

“Gudako?”

Right.

Gudako glanced over at the man.

“You might be wondering what I’m doing here.”

“I invited you into my room.”

Right… Right…

She hesitated a moment before smiling to him.

“So, you may be wondering what brought me to your chambers so that you could invite me in.”

“I was not thinking such a thing, but go ahead.” He waved a hand, his attire shifting just so over his person.

“I’ve come to seduce you.”

That expression… changed.

There was no words to describe the feeling that went over her as she said that aloud. She could see those eyes flash, a glint coming to them that made her feel like she’d just stepped into a trap. The shifting he did this time, with removing one of his legs from its perch on top of the other, as though spreading himself out a bit in his seat, left her feeling like she was trapped.

The door was just there. She had no reason to feel like she’d jumped into a trap.

“You intend to seduce me?” He asked.

“Yes. I do.”

“In your uniform?”

“Yes, I-“

Gudako paused.

The man had her by the balls on that one. If she had intended to seduce him, coming in with some other outfit on would have made this a lot more obvious. Instead, she was in her usual uniform.

She glanced at him a moment before bucking herself up mentally.

“That’s how confident I am on this.”

“Truly?” Roma leaned back, that smile on his face growing.

“Absolutely. Romance, as I’ve learned from someone quite wise and handsome, is not about the flowers sometimes. Sometimes, it’s about the very basic love between two people.”

That was what she said.

The silence filled the room for a good half minute from there, with the god looking at her with mounting something. The air was slowly draining, leaving her waiting with bated breath.

And then one of them moved.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, but she hit the bed quickly enough. Her jacket was thrown aside. Her tanktop beneath went to the wind next. She reached up and grabbed the man’s robes, tugging them down like an artist would at a show gallery, displaying the Adonis of a body to the world and sundry.

His lips pressed to hers.

She ran her nails lightly up his back, trying to be gentle before she felt her skirts being lifted to her stomach and her panties being ripped.

This was her seduction.

After all the times he’d left her trying to find words and squirming away beneath him, she was going to get him back.

She wrapped her legs around him and gave him a shove.

It shouldn’t have worked. It wouldn’t have- but he hadn’t expected it.

The god toppled to the bed, his wings fluttering a little in her peripheral view, but she pressed down on him and kissed him harder.

She found his hips and reached between them, finding what she was looking for. At his eye-widening, she had to give a smile into that kiss.

“Gudako,” he breathed.

That was just the way she liked hearing her name too. Breathless, adoring, spoken like a prayer. She could feel the thickness of him, the manhood she wrapped her fingers around twitching slightly at being under her observation.

She lined her body up with his, letting herself sink onto him.

Her eyes rolled back, eyelids closing. There was enough there that she felt a slight tinge of fear run through her at not being big enough to fit him. His length felt like it was reaching too far in, but she didn’t dare back down. She moved onto him until she felt herself reach the base.

Finally.

This had been a success.

Gudako, third rate master who had gone to at least second rate if not first point five… was now the lover of the most handsome god servant she had ever seen.

Actually, this was the first time she’d been lover to anyone.

She’d done it too.

She’d taken him. Power bottomed her way onto him and into his bed.

What a view she had too. Tawny skin and waves of dark blue hair against those white sheets. She’d felt a little soreness, but it was just the strange newness of this. She’d be fine.

Now… now was rolling hips-

Gudako felt her fingers curl into fists as she shifted her hips.

That was too much.

Far, far too much. She hadn’t expected that kind of reaction. Glancing down, she could feel her face warming a bit at the sight of their bodies fitting together.

“Gudako,” Roma cooed softly, his hand reaching up to brush back her hair. “You have done well, but you are meant to continue. That move just a moment ago was excellent.”

“We’re going to do this a better way,” she told him.

As soon as she figured out how that way was.

Normally there was just shifting, but…

She tried to shift again and felt her whole body shudder. The feeling of his body there inside of her was too much. Maybe if he was a little smaller-

“Ah, my bloom,” he purred.

Gudako opened her mouth to tell him again that she had this, but the man rolled them. She could feel him moving inside of her, beginning to pull out. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders, but he shoved himself back in.

Sparks danced before her eyes. Her thoughts went white… or maybe that was her vision too.

He was pulling back, withdrawing again, his manhood sliding just inside of her. She could feel it with every fiber of her being. Then, he thrusted back in.

A sound escaped her, her hands grabbing for his face to pull him back in.

She was the seducer. That was how this was supposed to work.

She peppered the sloppiest kisses of her lip upon him as he slammed himself home. She probably drooled, but gods.

Gods.

The world stopped existing as she found herself under this man’s attentions. She watched that blue hair wave above her, curtaining her view to him and only him. She watched those eyes watch her, those lips moving to share words that made her heart simply stutter away.

“Do you know how demi-gods are made?” the man dared to ask.

This.

She wanted to just say this.

This was how any demi-god was made. This was what romance novels and sex-minded women like Medb and Ishtar and Kiara were on about.

Each thrust was sending jolts of pleasure through her. Each time he pulled out, she wanted to weep for him to get back in her. She heard his name, but she had no doubt why. She adored this. She wanted more. When she felt something snap within her, the world ceasing to be for a full minute, she was sure she’d just gone to the realm of the gods themselves.

“Gudako,” the man dared to purr.

Gudako gave a soft hum.

“You were right before. You had no need to come in anything special for me. Your body is simply divine. Who would have guessed such a romantic lay beneath such a uniform.”

She could feel him slowly shifting his hips, a funny fluttering in her chest warning her that things were nowhere near over.

“You will find that I have great endurance,” the man murmured. “I vow to you, your body will not move in the slightest after this without thinking of me. Allow me to thank you for this beautiful bounty that you’ve provided.”

[occasionalmemes]

SJ TUCKER SENTENCE STARTERS

          cheshire kitten.

“ i grew up seeing things a little differently, appearing, disappearing, hardly innocent, nor tied down to the ground. ” “ i learned to roll and tumble with the punches.” “ heavy is the crown that's always hidden. ” “ tender is the heart you never see. ” “ hard and fast shines the grin that we flash, but there's a vulnerable stripe or two on me. ” “ maybe any place outside of _____ is not for me, my friend. ” “ if i leave my grin behind, remind me that we're all mad here and it's okay. ” “ the shadows hide me down in _____. ” “ _____, nobody knows the way.” “ if you find it in your dreams, you can find it at your dayjob somewhere south of Hell. ” “ take the path to left or right with just your gut to guide you. ” “ the story is not for anyone else to tell. ” “ go down the rabbit hole and out the other side. ” “ you can't go home in the middle of the magic carpet ride. ” “ you gotta greet the sun before his lovely daughter moon. ” “ you can't forsake the journey for the safety of your room. ” “ learn your lesson well. ” “ i have learned to see and hear everybody loud and clear. ” “ the truth comes out in riddles that are safe enough to share. ” “ that's how it is in songs, you see.” “ heavy is the burden of the wise ones when no one understands a word they say. ” “ the Jabberwock never bothered anyone, but nobody believes him to this day.” “ and why should they? ” “ is it the stripes or the spots you see? ” “ was it hearts or diamonds, baby, brought you here to me? ” “ darling, you know better than to trust a pack of cards! ” “ what have we learned? ” “ the world is never as mad as it could be. ” “ we’re all mad here, and it’s okay. ”

          were-owl.

“ look long enough into the eyes of any creature, there's no knowing what you'll find. ” “ we all seek the light one way or another, mostly flying blind. ” “ everything flies at the mercy of the moonlight, lovers more than most at times. ” “ you've sought the light where few have ever found it. ” “ little one, seek and ye shall find. ” “ take care what you find in the tawny eyes of a hunter by night. ” “ who is it dares to find these feathers, stroke this skin? ” “ how can you dream of the night he spreads his wings to hold you, shows you all he knows and lets you in?” “ i've heard it said none but fools will ever count on shifting shapes and flying dreams. ” “ foolish the heart that lights upon a love who's never what he seems.” “ shows one face at dawn and another in the twilight. ” “ kings have worn his shape before. ” “ lord of the evening, so handsome in the sunlight, leaves you wanting so much more. ” “ child, death is a dance on the forest floor! ” “ shifting shapes and flying dreams, love is never what it seems. ” “ be his love and not his prey. ”

          love lies.

“ love lies downwind waiting patiently to be found. ” “ angel don't make a sound unless you are the one i have been waiting for. ” “ you are the one i have been waiting for. ” “ i've been downwind waiting for you to come around. ” “ there is no one soul that will swallow me whole and let me out shining and beautiful, no. ” “ in love there is loss of control, but like the rivers, i roll. are you in for the ride? ” “ where will you sleep tonight? ” “ love lies, downwind waiting, with the silence of tigers and a hunger burning bright with a heart song shining bright. ” “ desert star, shine a light. ”

          don’t get my hopes up.

“ lately I'm a little bit prickly. ” “ everything hurts when you fall in love hard enough, rock bottom doesn't feel so bad. ” “ i wouldn't quite call this bitchy. ” “ when I am on my best behavior I'll fool you like a grown-up little girl who didn't know how good she had it before. ” “ when desire walks through your door and all hell breaks loose times four, you'll understand and maybe you won't pull smooth maneuvers on your suitors anymore. ” “ when desire walks through your door and all hell breaks loose times four, you'll understand.” “ maybe you won't pull smooth maneuvers on your suitors anymore. ” “ don't you go getting my hopes up, girl. ” “ you'll be sorry and so will i. ” “ last thing either one of us needs is yet another reason to cry. ” “ i know that i'm your last in line. ” “ i oughtta know better than to call you mine. ” “ say a flat out "no" to my face, that's fine, but don't get my hopes up, girl. ” “ lately I'm a pretty good swimmer-- so far up the creek cuz I fell in love hard enough hot water doesn't seem so dire. ” “ i must've quit paying attention, baby, i have to tell you the line is blurred pretty bad between the frying pan and the fire. ” “ when love sneaks up on you and fries your circuits through and through, you'll understand and maybe forgive me my trespasses, for I know not what I do. ” “ when love sneaks up on you and fries your circuits through and through, you'll understand.” “ forgive me my trespasses, for I know not what I do. ” “ don't you go getting my hopes up, boy. ” “ i'm not one for second chances once you've made me cry. ” “ my dance card's full, my waiting list is too backed up for shit like this. ” “ go ahead and pretend that i don't exist, but don't get my hopes up, boy. ” “ when desire walks through your door and all hell breaks loose times four, you'll understand. ” “ maybe you won't demand good manners from your lovers anymore. ” “ don't you go getting my hopes up, love. ” “ you'll be sorry 'til the day you die. ” “ i see you wishing on your star and wishes cannot lie. ” “ i make 'em too, or haven't you heard? ” “ waste a few on you cuz i never did learn. ” “ i know courage is harder to show than concern. ” “ you can't steal fire and not get burned. ” “ i will try to hold out and wait my turn, but don't get my hopes up, love. ”

          neptune.

“ years ago i came to you, down beneath your ripples, submitting to the mystery of life beneath the waves. ” “ years i floated near you, swimming in your subterrain, rocked within the opium embrace of Triton's tomb. ” “ time i lost just fussing over every little thing you asked for. ” “ let myself keep fading, silver fishes through my skin. ” “ somewhere i stopped breathing, but i missed the kiss of air. ” “ someday in my castle keep, where rumors fly and questions creep they'll say to me, what of the lord of the deep? ” “ i'll say, i knew him once but he was asleep. ” “ there's no light where you are, my Neptune. ” “ to the mountains i will fly, away from you. ” “ free from the waves into new love's arms, back to the realm of the sky. ” “ years ago I came to you, in love and doomed to drowning, beholden to the mystery of life beneath the waves. ” “ years i floated near you, i will never see again. ” “ how i could tarry in the opium embrace of Triton's tomb. ” “ years ago i came to you, in love and doomed by what i knew. ” “ though i miss the mystery now of life beneath the waves, thin air's as sweet as water when your body begs to breathe. ” “ and so i leave when i must leave. ” “ don't weep for love i couldn't save. ” “ all of us who dare to love are brave! ”

          girl with the lion’s tail.

“ don't look for home in me between the lines of this, our fairytale. ” “ man cannot follow the monsters. ” “ it’s simple for you, love, but never for me. ” “ nothing can be as it once was. ” “ call me a beast as you've always done, but one which can no longer love you. ” “ look for me not, lover, i am long gone. how can you hope to follow? ” “ you're meant to crawl upon your knees, not steal my soul or talk to me. ” “ the last thing i would ever do. ” “ i am the place where air meets ice. ” “ i don't want to be the girl you tame, an oddity locked away somewhere safe. ” “ i don't want to be the girl you tame, your one-heart menagerie, lonely. ” “ give me back the girl i was, the beast i used to be, shedding the skin of this creature. ” “ you were never cage enough to keep the light inside. ” “ deny me the sky and i'm running. ” “ a lion must keep something back for her own if she's been let to live. ” “ i'd sooner run than waste away at home. ” " you already have all that I had to give. ” “ take away your holiness, your pleading and your crying eyes. ” “ bring me back the girl i was, untamed. ” “ cry me a river to hell. ” “ hell or home, it's all much the same. ”

          the truth about ninjas

“ paragon of dignity, untouchable and lethal. ” “ there's more to life than shuriken. ” “ sudden death comes easy when you practice every day. ” “ you'll think you're ten feet tall and bulletproof until you pass my way. ” “ you will never see it coming. ” “ no one's sad to see you go. ” “ within my eyes you'll glimpse a wisdom you were not prepared to know. ” “ in fearing what you cannot see, you fall beneath my hand. ” “ this is a ninja thing, you wouldn’t understand. ” “ you will never know i'm here until it's far too late. ” “ it is a ninja's way to pass unseen and not to storm the gate. ” “ moving quieter than kitten, circumnavigating law. ” “ you'll never hear a thing. ” “ the soul has always been corrupted, but the heart and hands are clean. ” “ the game is glory but I take my joy in leaving not a trace. ” “ my actions, quick as lightning, unintended to hurt you. ” “ i'm only doing what a ninja's gotta do. ” “ i won't say life is hard, but i must restrain my urges to run naked through my yard. ” “ my career would shrivel up and die, but damn would it be fun! ” “ i'd pirouette beneath the moonlight. ”

[rainbow-of-the-lord]

Where I Belong

A Destiel plot bunny that would not leave me completely inspired by this gifset, and completely inspired by my recent need for reverse!verse fiction, so we’ll see how it goes!

Read on Ao3

Something was off, Dean knew almost immediately. It wasn’t because of the lack of chatter of angel radio, since that had been dimming for a while; it wasn’t anything but a violent feeling of something searing cutting through his chest, like a hot knife. His first thought was what in the name of his Father was happening?

His second thought, upon hearing the voice that was both so faint and yet powerful enough to fill his head, answered his question.

Cas.

“Most people would say “hello” first, I’m pretty sure.” Dean looked down at his chest, the demon killing blade firmly wedged where his vessel’s heart would be. The hunter’s eyes widened but he seemed to quickly recover, backing up just enough to truly look Dean over.

The hunter was ballsy, Dean would give him that.

“What are you?”

“I did just kind of save your ass, buddy, a ‘thank you’ would be really nice right about now.” Dean gestured around the small barn that was now filled with seven or so smited demons, eyes burned out and everything.

“I assure you that you did not ‘save my ass’, I was perfectly fine where I was.”

“Heaven ain’t about ready for you yet, buddy. I should know.”

“Enough. Who- What- Are you?”

Dean sighed and pulled out the knife from his chest, wound healing instantly as the blade clattered to the ground. “Name’s Dean. I’m kind of an angel.”

“Is that a flirtation?” The remark was dry, and Dean smirked slightly.

In lieu of a verbal confirmation, he simply allowed his wings to appear on one of the edges of existence, not enough for humans to touch and see every feather, but just  enough to get the message across that oh yes, he was very serious about all this.

“Although for you, buddy, that could’ve been whatever you wanted it to be.” Dean winked, and oh he knew they were both goners at that point.

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

Dean flew into the warehouse immediately, no minor feat with the strength of some of the sigils around the area. Luckily, some of them were so poorly drawn or flaking away just enough that he was able to push through the warding.

His vessel was only meant to allow him a place on Earth, it didn’t function as a humans did. He didn’t need to eat or drink -- though those were quite fun -- or even breathe, but he felt his blood start to rush through his body. He felt his heart begin to leap into his throat. He felt an unknown fear boiling up inside himself. It was all raw and real and new and terrifying and so very human that he almost couldn’t stand it.

And then he rounded a corner and saw Castiel’s body. And everything went ice cold.

“Castiel? Hey, Cas-” Dean rushed forward, wings giving him a boost, and he dropped to his knees next to the unconscious human. “Hey, you dumbass hunter, get the fuck up now.”

This was purely so Dean could get out anger, because he knew immediately that Castiel wasn’t getting up. There were what looked like scratches on his face and hands, also on the tan military jacket torn by what could only be described as claws, and his jeans were covered in grime. Without even thinking, Dean gently laid a hand on Castiel’s scarred cheek, forcing all his willpower and Grace to bring this stubborn, infuriatingly reckless and beautiful human back from the brink.

Dean was far too selfish to allow Heaven to take him and lock him away from anyone -- from Dean --  just yet.

With a deep intake of breath, Castiel finally woke up. Dean almost stumbled backwards from the power it took, but Castiel’s wound began to heal slowly. And the first thing Castiel did was turn his head to look at Dean, relief mixed with an unknown emotion on his face.

“Dean… You came.”

“Of course I came, asshole. You think I can get a prayer and ignore it?” You think I can get a prayer from you and ignore it?

“No, I- I just thought your powers were ‘fizzing out’, so to speak.” Castiel tried sitting up, arms supporting him. He was only barely able to sit up, and probably wouldn’t be able to do much more for a while after coming back from death.

“I’m aware, thanks.” Dean couldn’t help but roll his eyes, crouching down next to Castiel. This is good , he thought. Anger and annoyance could brush off everything else. It could hide the worry and fear he felt. “What were you even doing around here?”

“I was-”

“Trying to interfere with my business, as per usual.” Came a snarky, British voice that had both angel and man immediately turn their heads  to look over at its course. Out from the shadows behind some crates was Crowley, casual as ever, hands in his long, ridiculous jacket. “Sorry, boys, you know I had to get involved somehow. Just how business is.”

“You did this to him?” Dean glared, anger taking over for an entirely different reason now. The thought of that demon even laying a hand on Castiel-

“Of course not, you daft feather-brain.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “But I did send some men. And if a human happens to get in the middle of a hellhound, well…”

“I should’ve figured it was you.” Castiel spat, but Dean barely heard anything after that, standing up slowly to fully face the crossroads demon. The air seemed to get heavier for a second, lights dimming, but for the first time in a long time he allowed his wings to unfurl fully, tawny and freckled and right on the human plain for everyone to see. It was a clear show of dominance, even possession, and he surely hoped Crowley would notice that.

“Come anywhere near him again, and I will hunt you down and end you. Slowly.” Dean stalked closer, staring down at the demon. Crowley’s eyes turned red and flicked up and down the angel’s form, a barely noticeable sneer forming on his lips. They both knew he wasn’t going to be able to do anything against a full powered angel, but a half-powered one… Dean just hoped the display and threat were enough. Evidently they were, because Crowley’s eyes went back to normal and he curtly nodded, the almost ever present “I know what you don’t” smirk returning to his face.

“Consider it noted. I’ll have my secretary jot it down. Here’s to hoping I don’t run into you again.” He purposefully looked over the span of Dean’s wings towards the almost in shock hunter, addressing him fully. “Feel better, darling. No hard feelings.” With that, he was gone. It was tensely silent for a minute as Dean’s wings folded back, but Castiel seemed to know exactly what to say.

“What the fuck was that?” He stood up, power seeming to return to him, and hesitantly but surely walked over to Dean. “Dean?”

“Are you feeling better?” He turned to take in the worry in those blue eyes, mixed with a generous amount of annoyance that was visible in the way Castiel pressed his lips together into a thin line.

“Am I feeling better? What about you? And why do I feel like I was just- Just- the witness of some fucked up display of ownership?”

“It’s nothing, alright? I feel fine.” And he did, mostly. “But you gotta be more careful. You got in front of a hellhound?”

“It was a woman, she- She had made a crossroads deal ten years ago, and the demon was coming to collect. But she was a mother, Dean, soon to be a grandmother. She wanted to see her grandchildren be born.”

“And you took the sob story and decided to go running around with a machete?”

“I wasn’t running around, I had- I had tracked it own, thought I chased it away. I was going to finish it off, but the glasses got broken once the demons showed up. I don’t even know if the woman’s soul was taken, yet. Perhaps-”

“Cas, she’s gone. We both know that.” And this is where the hunter was wonderful, but infuriatingly stubborn and reckless. “And you could’ve been gone, too! You can’t go saving people and hunting things if you’re dead.”

“I knew what I was getting into, Dean. I don’t need to be reminded by you.” Cas fixed him with a look, crossing his arms. “You, of all beings, should be the last person talking to me about self-preservation. What were you thinking? That display, healing me? You’re draining yourself, you know that. So now you’re the one being a hypocrite.”

“I’m a hypocrite? Oh, that’s great. Next time I’ll just let you bleed out, then. See you on the other side, pack everything up for you and ship it to your sister? How would Anna feel about that?”

“Don’t you dare bring her into this-”

“Don’t fucking touch me-”

“-And it shouldn’t matter to you what happens to me. Remember, Mr “Kind of an angel”? I don’t need you to look after me and coddle me.”

“You think that’s what this is? Coddling?”

“You don’t have anything better to do, so you just follow me around-”

“I said to stop touching me!” Dean shouted out as once again Castiel’s finger jabbed into his chest, and for the first time their tirades were both broken. The hunter took a step back, jaw clenched as he obviously bit back what else he wanted to say. But he looked down at the ground, arms crossing again. Dean breathed for a second before speaking again, voice low but under control. “You don’t want me looking after you, fine. I won’t. I’ll never answer another prayer from you again. I’ll see you around, Cas.” He managed to get out before turning on heel and striding out the door, away from the oppressiveness of the sigils so he could fly away. Another, more foolish -- more human -- part of him wanted Castiel to hurry after him, shout for him to stop and for him to apologize, for things to go back to how they used to be. But he knew that wouldn’t happen, and he tried not to get too disappointed.

So, he flew away instead.

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

"I never even asked, even though I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Where did you even get your vessel from? Are you possessing some poor model?” Castiel asked in between bites of his bacon cheeseburger, sitting across from Dean in a brightly colored, but uncomfortable diner booth. Dean was currently in the process of shoveling fries into his mouth, enjoying the tangy taste of something for once. He snorted a laugh.

“Close. A wannabe Hollywood actor, Jensen something. He wasn’t making it, got diagnosed with something bad, and I pretty much answered his prayers to heal him.”

“How generous.” There was an unmistakable dryness in Castiel’s tone before he continued. “And he’s okay with that?”

“From what I can tell? Yeah. He might’ve made his way up to Heaven by now, though.”

“See, I always thought if angels existed, they’d be dressed in-”

“White robes? Sandals? Flowing blonde hair to match?”

“More or less.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Not saying I’m disappointed at all.” Castiel stated, and Dean actually had to take a second to process that as Castiel popped the rest of the burger into his mouth. Everything about this was so ridiculously casual; a hunter and an angel, a practical myth, sitting in a diner and making small talk over a shared meal. But it felt right, in a way. The past few weeks getting to know the human had been quite a bit of fun; his name was Castiel Novak, he was from Illinois, he had an older sister Anna who was also a hunter, and he apparently had a grotesque love of burgers and other greasy food. He was great.

“Well that’s good. Let’s hope that keeps up for some other aspects of life.”

“Such as?” Castiel raised an eyebrow, inviting and imploring him to continue, but they were interrupted as Dean opened his mouth.

“Anything else I can get you?” The overly bubbly waitress approached the table, taking the empty plates. “Or just the check?”

“The check will be fine.” Castiel nodded his assent, and Dean sat back in his chair with a barely there, put upon sigh.

“Not even dessert?”

“Last I remembered, I was the one paying.” Castiel remarked, the playful attitude from before still slightly there but mostly disappeared now, and Dean was left in befuddlement at this hurricane of a human and his emotions.

What in the name of his Father was happening?

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

Any human would likely have blacked out at the amount Dean was drinking, but the angel was barely lightheaded as he downed another bottle of beer. He had no liver requirements to stop him, no money to worry about losing -- he could just snap his fingers and the bartender would forget his tab --, and he could stay there all day. He wasn’t quite sure anyone in Heaven was looking for him, at this point.

“Figured I’d find you here if you were feeling sorry for yourself.” A familiar voice sounded off behind him, and he came up to the barstool next to Dean. At least this presence wasn’t a heavenly one. But he didn’t want to deal with any demons right now, not really.

“And what gives you the impression that I’m feeling sorry for myself?” Dean turned his head to look over at Sam, who signaled for his own beer to be slid down the bar.

“Because you’re here, moping. And Castiel is laying in his car, moping.”

“What- You went looking for Cas?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Were you one of the fucking ones who-”

“Easy, easy, dude.” Sam held up his hands in mock surrender before Dean’s Grace could start flailing around. “Even I know Cas is off limits. I wouldn’t do that.” And Dean knew that, somewhere in him. Sam was… well, saying he was like a brother was a bit weird. But Sam was one of those ‘nice’ demons in that he didn’t constantly indulge in hedonism and murder. He just happened to be a soul who made a deal to save his girlfriend’s life and lost his humanity. They had fought together and worked together, they were close. But now Dean was just bitter and angry about demons in general at this point. Even brotherly ones. “But it’s kinda big news. Some demons caught wind of you and Crowley and your little… exchange.”

“Of course they did. You probably have the worst tabloids.”

“We get the best writers for them. But seriously; what happened?”

Dean let out a put upon sigh, staring at his peeling bottle label. “He thinks I’m too protective, that I should lay off of things and protecting him. I was literally created to protect fucking humans.”

“That’s it?”

“I… I might have said some things. Said I was… I didn’t want him dying yet, that he was gonna get himself killed. And he said I was a hypocrite ‘cause I have my own issues and I wasn’t slowing down. And if he dies, what do I do then? Just keep going?” Dean shook his head.

Sam was quiet for a moment and sipped his drink, considering the situation. “You still haven’t told him you’re basically falling for him. In every sense of the word.”

“Trust me, Cas isn’t exactly the easiest to get through to. We’ve been friends for five years. And he still just- Just won’t let me in. And it’s not fair.”

“Then force yourself in.” Sam swiveled on his barstool to stare Dean down, obviously having enough.

“I don’t think that’s exactly-”

“Not in that way, idiot. Get to the root and just tell him everything. Hell, maybe he’s waiting for that. Whatever it is, you better tell him soon. Especially since I don’t want to hear any of this any more. I’ve had enough for an afterlife.”

Once again, deep down, Dean knew Sam was right, even for a demon. But he didn’t mind being a contrarian just a bit longer. “And if he tells me to fuck off?”

“Then fuck off, I guess. We’re always looking for new recruits.” Sam lightly tapped him on the shoulder. Dean gave him a glare.

“That’s not even funny.”

“To me, it is.” Sam shrugged and took another sip of his beer.

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

Castiel had been quiet for most of the day. Not that he was exactly talkative to begin with, but this was like turning the volume to “off” on him and leaving him be. He hardly complained as Dean messed with the radio, went through the motions of researching the hunt they were both currently on, cleaned his weapons with close precision even a robot would have a hard time replicating. Dean finally had enough as he sat next to Castiel on the small twin bed he had rented for the night in another no-name motel.

“Talk to me, Cas. What’s wrong?” His voice was gentle, but the other man still flinched just barely. Dean frowned at that reaction.

“Nothing. Just… focusing.”

“You’re not just focusing, okay? I know when you’re focusing, because your tongue sticks out just a bit.” Dean ignored the protest about to spring from Castiel’s lips and continued, “And you start tapping your leg. And your soul… your soul is just in agony. Cas, please.” The angel’s hand gently brushed the top of Castiel’s, the one holding the gun, and he felt the tension in each muscle.

It was quiet for so long that he was sure that Castiel wouldn’t answer. But then, just as Dean was going to pull away, he spoke quietly. “It’s the anniversary of my family’s death.”

Now that… Dean hadn’t been expecting. “You told me about Anna, you never told me about-”

“There was a reason I never did, Dean. It…” He swallowed and continued, voice trying so hard not to break. “My father Chuck was a pulp horror writer. Little cult following, never really that successful. It was me, Anna, Michael, and… Luke. Michael was the oldest, Luke right after him, and I was the youngest. Anna was a year older than me. Our mother died when I was young. I was… We were all home, just because we happened to be in one place all at the same time. I was finishing college at the time. Anna and I were close, always have been, so we went for each other’s sake. It was just supposed to be a weekend for the five of us. But… But I woke up to shouting, a commotion in the hallway. And there was Luke, still in his pajamas, our father’s blood on his shirt. Michael tried to intervene and Anna went to call the cops, but Luke took down Michael after a struggle and almost got me. Then a hunter, Ezekiel, came in. He exorcised the demon from Luke, but whatever had happened in between the possession and the exorcism… Luke died from his wounds. And then it was just Anna and I.” Rare tears began to fall from Castiel’s eyes as Dean watched, horrified by the sight and the story.

“Anna never talks to me about this. Days like this, we don’t reunite or talk, I don’t know how she mourns, or if she even does, but…” Castiel took in a shuddering breath. “For me, the best thing is to just ignore it. Work the case. Forget all about it.”

“I’m so sorry, Cas, I don’t even have the words for it.” Dean’s hand went to hold Castiel’s, and there was a pause before a calloused, rough palm met his and their fingers intertwined.

“It’s not your fault. God, I just- Just wish I could go back and have done something. Worked quicker, stopped him, been awake, anything so that something like that never happens again.”

“I know it’s tough. I do. But… There was nothing you could do. You don’t have to blame yourself for that.”

“I could’ve been better . Now I’m a hunter, a good one.”

“You were fine then, and you’re fine now. Don’t beat yourself up. Okay? Don’t- Don’t think there was anything you could change about a demon.”

Things went quiet again, and small sniffs seemed to fill the room in place of words. Then Dean felt Castiel lean onto him, head resting on the angel’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-”

“You should.” He didn’t know if Cas was going to comment on the situation, or the fact he was crying, or some other unknown thing in the universe that he felt he should take the blame for. But it hardly mattered, because Dean’s answer was the same regardless.

For the first time in nearly a year of knowing each other, the walls went down. And it was worth it, in a way. It really was.

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

It was almost a week after the encounter with Sam in the bar when things changed. Dean knew the best way to get away from pesky obnoxious demons and annoying, heartfelt feelings was complete isolation. He was sitting on a park bench late in the night when he heard it.

Dean.

It was Castiel. Not anywhere nearby, but he heard him as clear as if he had been sitting next to him. That was when he realized the human was praying. But it wasn’t like before, full of barely disguised terror and hurt. This was just… pain. Real pain, from deep inside his soul, so strong it almost made Dean’s Grace ache.

Dean, please. I don’t know if you can hear me, if you want to hear me. Maybe… Maybe I deserve the silent treatment. What happened at the warehouse, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve-

Things paused. Both of them took a breath. And Castiel continued.

I was scared. Scared for you, more than myself. Scared that you were… That Crowley could’ve hurt you. Could have torn your wings out, could have sent his lackeys to do the same. I was scared you were going to lose all your Grace trying to save me, that one of these days you would push yourself too far and I would never again have to listen to you complain about my music choice, or watch you smack your lips when you eat really good food, or have you beg for me to buy you some pie or a new flannel, or- Or watch you smiling in the sunlight in the passenger seat of my car. I don’t care if you’re an angel, I don’t care if you’re a human, I just need you with me, need you safe. And I can’t lose you Dean, I just can’t. I can’t lose another person I-

Dean never heard the rest because he automatically flew for the motel room Castiel was in as quickly as his wings would carry him. He found the hunter kneeling at the foot of his bed, hands clasped together hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. Tears were beginning to spring in his eyes, and Dean could feel them mirrored as Castiel quickly stood and turned to face Dean. His mouth opened to say something else but Dean made it across the room and pulled Castiel into a tight hug that was quickly returned as they held onto each other.

“Dean, I’m sorry, there’s something I have to tell you-”

“You don’t have to, I heard every word.” Dean pulled away to give him a teary, barely wavering smile. “I’m sorry, too. I can’t lose you either, Cas, I- When I lose my Grace, I don’t know if I’ll ever see you in Heaven again. And I don’t want you to leave.”

“You’re an idiot. We’re always going to find each other.” Castiel’s voice became a whisper as he seemed to gather the courage to say something, staring into Dean’s eyes. “And you never let me say it. I love you.”

“Cas-”

“I have for years. I was always terrified, because you were an angel, of all things. I didn’t know if you were even capable of returning it.  And- And when you healed me, I felt… I felt warm. I felt from you what I feel from you. And I realized… Realized I had to tell you. You deserved to know why I’m horrible at this and wanting to keep you safe. But if I was wrong, if it isn’t recipro-”

Dean responded by leaning in and kissing Castiel, nothing more than a peck but enough to shut him up. Dean could feel his heart thumping again, though, as he spoke. “I love you, too, Cas. So fucking much.”

And then Castiel launched at him and they collided, noses bumping in a kiss that likely could’ve gone a lot better, but it was real and messy and full of years of emotions and previously denied wants all in one.

Dean knew he was going to fall, any day now. He could feel his Grace beginning to ebb away like a tide from a shoreline. But he had his hunter in his arms, now. His wonderful, infuriatingly perfect hunter.

And that was worth falling for.

[grither55]

The Princess and the Peasant - (An Azula Epic) - Chapter 40 - Ghosts of the Past

“So, I am. Elle…would you be a dear and get me a sheet of paper and pen from your little bag?” The princess queried in a sanguine voice while she peered down at her still swooning handmaid in her muscular arms.

As soon as Mai and Ty Lee heard those words, they couldn’t help but turn to Azula with suspicion in their eyes.

While it may sound like a harmless request, this was Azula they were talking about!

Things were never simple with Azula!

“R-right away! I-if my princess asks for pen and paper! I get her pen and paper!” Elle cheered before springing forward out of Azula’s arms upon command much to the older female’s smug amusement.

The young handmaid bent over to rifle through her back while Azula surveyed her with a pleased palm beneath her chin.

“What…are you planning Azula?” The markswoman asked in a wary voice while she eyed her sadistic friend with narrowed tawny eyes.

“Oh, nothing Mai. I am just going to…draft a few…new laws.” Azula answered in a devilish voice while she turned to peer down at Elle’s back while her childhood friends shuddered in uncertainty.

“Laws…Azula?” The brown-haired woman inquired in a nervous voice only for her leader to ignore her question.

While the teenager was fumbling through her ridiculously oversized bag the princess sat behind her watching her every move with a possessive stare.

The girl was digging through her bag in such a comical rush that she didn’t seem to be paying much mind when several items fell free from a random pouch.

It was in that moment that Azula’s golden eyes caught sight of a particularly small item dropping free from the pouch.

Another pill bottle…

That was all it took for the amused look in her eyes to give way to a dangerously narrowed glare.

She watched like a predatory eagle hawk when her handmaid seemed to move to put the item away before she could notice.

How foolish of her.

She would have thought that the girl would have learned by now that nothing escaped her!

Like living lightning Azula took the other two women by surprise when she grasped ahold of Elle’s hand before it put the pill bottle away.

“What…is that?” The princess demanded in a much stricter voice than before while the younger girl’s blonde hair hung in her eyes once more.

“Azula! You can’t hold her wrist like that!” Ty Lee shouted in a furious voice while Mai narrowed her eyes in agreement.

“Be silent Ty Lee! I am not bruising her! Now I will not ask again. What. Is. That?” Azula hissed with a puff of fire escaping her nostrils while Elle shrunk under her imposing glare.

“P-pills.” The blonde-haired girl answered weakly while her big sisters stared on in confusion only for her caretaker to purse her lips into a cold scowl.

“I can clearly see that! What are they for!” The princess snapped in a controlling voice that her subordinates did not like while the much smaller girl gazed away.

“Anti-depressants!” Elle cried out with her eyes gazing away from Azula’s angered yet grudgingly concerned face.

“Anti-depressants Elle?” Mai repeated with her tawny eyes displaying returning worry for the girl’s well being.

“You…take these pills because you are unhappy?” Azula pondered with something akin to a shred of hurt in her voice while Elle’s shoulders slumped.

The mere prospect of her handmaid not truly being as overjoyed to be in her service as she had thought was a surprisingly hurtful one.

Afterall that is what she has come to adore most about this one.

Her never wavering smile and the way she serves her with such enthusiasm. Like no servant she’s ever had before.

“I-I’m happy with you Azula-sama…I really am. This is my home now. I…love it here. But…some things…will never go away. Even when they are an entire world away. I…. took them to cope when I was with…Felix. And I take them now to cope…when the memory creeps up on me.” The blonde-haired girl mumbled in a sullen voice while the monarch stared down at her back with her golden eyes flashing in murderous hatred for her brother.

Once more the entirety of Team Azula was just floored by how prominent this man was.

Even when he wasn’t here.

“So…it’s not…me?” The princess requested in a momentary break from her stern voice while she gazed down at her fragile girlfriend with her stern golden eyes softening ever so slightly.

“No! What sort of question is that! I love you!” Elle exclaimed with heavy emotion in her innocent eyes after turning around to smile sadly up at Azula’s strangely relieved face.

Neither Mai nor Ty Lee so much as even breathed a word after witnessing Azula display a truly uncharacteristic hint of self doubt.

This was the first time in all of their time knowing Azula that they had ever seen their friend express doubt in herself!

It was a brief but meaningful glimpse beneath the princess’s flawless exterior.

Ty Lee stared at Azula with sisterly concern in her eyes while she silently urged the unusually uncertain Azula to make a move.

The powerful princess caught the acrobat’s imploring gaze before scooting forward until she sat down beside the smaller girl.

She reached out to place a surprisingly comforting arm over the younger girl’s shoulder before greedily pulling the saddened girl in.

And once more the two found themselves staring on in amazement to see their friend being gentle once more.

“You are happy…serving me under me…is that right?” Azula questioned with a frown still on her regal lips while she held Elle’s small body against her chest once more.

“I…am. I am so very happy whenever I am with you Azula-sama. B-because I know that you will…protect me.” The blonde-haired girl admitted with her face underneath her girlfriend’s toned arm while she was held against the monarch’s plated bosom.

For reasons Azula couldn’t explain. She found those words pleasing to her ears.

Her handmaid was giving no indication that she was lying.

She couldn’t help but feel at ease knowing that this was what Elle wanted.

Yet even still she found herself unable to suppress that sense of murderous rage that boiled in her veins every time she heard about her girlfriend’s brother.

“Then…why? Why….do you need them? Is there…something that I am not doing enough for you?” The princess asked with her brows furrowing in frustration while she stared down at the smaller girl clutching at her bicep in the manner that she has come to adore.

“No. It’s just that…you’ve always been strong. I…am not. No matter how strong you are…even if you are the strongest person on the entire planet. Even though you can bend blue fire and lightning to your will. You…will never be able to take away my fear of Felix. It’s…. just how it is.” Elle muttered with her downcast eyes peering at her feet while Azula digested the words her lips curling into a furious glower.

The statement hit all of Team Azula in the chest.

All three of them were wondering what all that the girl’s brother did to her.

Thus far Elle has always been vague when she spoke about her brother.

Only giving small glimpses and hints of the torture that she endured at his hands.

“Do…you want me to kill him for you?” Azula announced in a guarded voice with her eyes peering down at Elle leaning into her breasts.

The noblewomen could only marvel once more over just how close the two had become.

It just goes to show just how deeply Elle wormed her way into Azula’s cold heart.

It was also rather frightening that at this point the girl could ask Azula to kill anyone she wanted and the princess would almost certainly oblige.

There were many people that would gladly take advantage of having the Princess of the Fire Nation as such a close love interest.

Yet Elle…did not.

That right there showed the difference between Elle and most people.

“If…you wish. But…but I will still fear him even if you kill him. Unless…you can wipe him from my mind. I…will always fear the memory.” The blonde-haired girl confessed with a bitter smile while the princess gazed down at her with uncomfortably taken aback golden eyes.

The poignant words caused all three of the older girls to stare on in unnerved silence.

“Why? The Princess of the Fire Nation stands beside you! Mai and Ty Lee stand beside you! All of my legions and Zoe stand beside you! So why!” The princess hissed with her teeth ground together while the smaller girl averted her eyes once more.

“Because only a fool would not be afraid of Felix. I-if you ever meet him then you’ll understand…that if you so much as take your eyes off him for a moment…he is d-deranged. His behavior is…highly unpredictable. He’s…insane. Even government officials won’t be caught dead around him without a host of guards to protect them.” Elle explained in a quiet voice while Azula listened with an increasingly displeased scowl on her red lips.

“When I set his entire body on fire then we’ll see just how terrifying he really is.” Azula insisted with her lips curling into a wrathful thin line.

Suffice to say that Ty Lee and Mai couldn’t help but shudder at the unsettling description of their young friend’s brother.

“W-what makes him so frightening is…that he doesn’t have a reason for what he does. He…hurt me for so many years…for no reason. I…asked him why so many times. And he…would just say that he…didn’t have a reason. H-he…did it because he enjoyed it.” The blonde-haired girl lamented with her face retreating into her knees once more while her three friends listened in growing rage.

‘I realize that I am not one to judge…I know well enough that I am no beacon of kindness. But…there is something about this one. I am going to kill him! Slowly!” The princess thought with her fists balling up in her fury while she leaned over her saddened handmaid.

“H-he’s a debauched creature. I…may know nothing of sexual pastimes but I know that his tastes are depraved. He doesn’t hurt people because he seeks financial gain…or a position of power. It’s…because it gives him a twisted sense of pleasure. The more suffering, he causes…the happier he is. He…used to invite girls over…girls his age. And they would run down the stairs in terror…w-with knife wounds.” Elle spoke in a near silent voice while even Azula sat in surprise over the shear depravity in her words.

“Isn’t…there some sort of city guard…or other law enforcement that can take him into custody so he doesn’t keep hurting people?” Mai queried in an unusually enraged voice while she clenched her fist in disgust.

It was no small wonder why Elle clung to Azula like a frightened mouse!

“No. Because he became involved in criminal underworld activity a few years back. They cover up his crimes. In exchange…for favors. He…he uses the organized criminals as an outlet to cause more suffering. And they don’t care. Because all they care about…is money.” The blonde-haired girl replied just when the princess slid an arm over her shoulder.

And then the younger girl’s cheeks turned a shake of pink despite her fear when she was pulled back into the royal woman’s battle worn chest plate.

Even though her princess was covered in sweat from her prolonged battle.

She savored her embrace all the same.

But even her girlfriend couldn’t wipe away her fears with her strength alone.

“Then I will just have to kill them…as well. Now calm yourself…my little lady.” Azula declared in a beyond powerful voice with her breathing brushing against Elle’s shivering neck.

The two noblewomen stared on with anger in their eyes while the princess demonstrated a stunningly affectionate side by holding the girl’s head into her bosom.

“B-but the worst thing…is that the criminals have a hired killer at their disposal. A professional...a f-former soldier. They…just call him Strados. I-I met him a long-time a-ago.” Elle revealed in a voice of rapidly rising emotion while Azula stared down at her with her golden eyes shimmering in her wrath.

All the while she memorized every detail that her young admirer told her while she began to stroke her fingers against her love interest’s trembling cheek.

“You…don’t have to say anymore. Not if you don’t want to.” The princess assured in a cold voice while she breathed against her cowering pet’s ear.

Only to find herself gazing down in surprise when the young girl began to shake in sorrow like she has only seen from her before on that night she came to her chamber on the warship.

“H-he killed my mother!” The blonde-haired girl announced without warning while her three friends stared at her in shock like never before.

They couldn’t believe that for even as sick as Elle’s brother was.

That he was associating with a group of people that worked with his own mother’s killer!

“E-Elle.” Ty Lee stammered with tears in her eyes while she balled up her fists in her anger.

It made her furious that such a sweet girl has been tortured so cruelly!

So horribly that even Azula felt pity for her!

“H-he was there on that day. H-he and his men were with the soldiers that attacked the village. T-they… even almost killed Felix! I-I’ll never forget his face or what he said to me! T-the way his hair blew in his emotionless blue eyes!” Elle cried with tears in her eyes while Azula’s strong arms crushed her into her armored breasts with the scent of heat and sweat upon her battle armor.

But she didn’t care.

Because Azula-sama was her savior.

An intense heat began to emanate from the princess’s body while she glared down with her golden eyes agape in unadulterated rage.

All the while her bending began to hear up while beads of sweat dripped down her enraged face while she smashed the tiny girl’s crying face into her chest.

Mai and Ty Lee sat in a helpless silence while they watched the poor girl bawl her eyes out for the second time in under an hour.

Only now were they all able to see the extent of the gentle hearted girl’s torture!

“There…. there my peasant. Don’t cry. I once told you that if there was anything wrong…anything at all. That I would mend it…and so I will.” Azula hissed with her chin pressing into the top of her traumatized admirer’s head while the blonde continued to cry her heart out.

The two noblewomen were just as stunned by their leader’s growing compassion for Elle as they were in the girl’s hidden torments.

And even though they knew the princess would never say it aloud.

They could tell that Azula regretted ever asking Elle about her pills.

“H-he said is t-this your mother. A-and then he shot my mother. I-I tried so hard to help her walk b-but I was too weak to carry an adult. And then he…tried to attack me but she protected me. And then…and then she pushed me away. S-she told me to go get to safety and then I ran for some time…for how long I am not sure. A-all I remember is that I heard the sound of gun shots firing off all throughout the city and then I heard one final gun shot. I-I will never forget the sound of that for as long as I live!” The blonde-haired girl blurted out in a broken voice while she shook like a leak against her girlfriend’s armored bosom.

The three listened in a horrified silence.

Azula had already known. Not every detail but she had known.

But it was still jarring even to a woman as cold as her that her betrothed watched her own mother die in such a gruesome manner.

Mai stared on with her tawny eyes as wide as can be while her bruised face contorted into a furious glower.

What a monster!

Ty Lee still sat with tears streaming down her cheeks while her entire body trembled in her rage.

“I will kill him for you.” The princess assured in a protectively dominant voice with her fingers sweeping across her little girlfriend’s crying cheeks.

“A-and soon after that…t-they killed my father too.” Elle murmured in a forlorn voice while Azula peered over her shoulder with wrathful golden eyes.

‘Who would have ever thought that I would one day feel this way about a peasant?’ Azula thought with her lips pursing into a glacial scowl while Elle’s head sunk into her chest.

Team Azula sat in a muted quiet while they processed their innocent young friend’s heartbreaking confession.

It was truly, truly horrifying.

Judging by Elle’s persistent smile they would have never thought that she endured such a brutal trauma at only five years old.

“And t-then they caught up to me a-and I was knocked out cold.” The blonde-haired girl admitted while the princess gazing down with alarm in her golden eyes while her mouth hung open ajar in a newfound sense of dread.

The three highborn women sat there in a grim silence with their eyes as wide as can be all the while wondering if the man had…

Touched her.

“Did…he…touch you?” The princess pondered with fire already spewing from her lips while she continued holding her saddened pet in a peculiar compulsion to comfort her admirer.

“No…t-they took me and two other girls’…Naoki and Katsu to the river. And then…and then they…” Elle revealed in a shaken voice while Azula listened with unusual shock in her enraged eyes while the smaller girl continued to shake in fear.

Those names…the girl mentioned those names before as the two that approached her before she came from…wherever it is that she came from.

The two noblewomen stared at the crying girl in an apprehensive silence while the princess still sat with the teenager’s face in her arms.

“Enough. Shush now. You have said all that I need to hear.” Azula ordered with her arms holding Elle’s sobbing face into her breasts.

“A-Azula-sama.” The blonde-haired girl stammered in a sorrowful voice while the powerful woman growled against her wet cheek.

“Must I punish you?” The princess questioned in a terribly intimidating voice while her fingers caressed her sensitive pet’s damp cheek.

“A-and that’s why Felix is so dangerous. He…he doesn’t even care that he killed our parents. He…says that he won’t let the past…hinder his…b-business.” Elle sniffled with her face burrowing into Azula while domineering golden eyes narrowed down at the back of her head.

If you asked Azula it didn’t make any sense for the girl to fear her sexual sadist of a brother more than the hired killer.

And it was obvious to her that the assassin was the more dangerous of the two.

But either way…she didn’t approve of the girl fearing either one.

Mai and Ty Lee sat with shock in their eyes while they digested their young friend’s confession.

It was truly jarring.

Not only did this ‘Strados’ sound like a psychopath that enjoyed killing parents and tormenting the children afterward.

They had a newfound understanding in regards to just how cruel her brother was to not even care about killing the man that murdered his parents.

The fact that he would rather torture his own sister said all that they needed to know about this Felix!

“Hm. Punishment it is then.” Azula drawled in a captivating voice with her chin pressing down on the back of Elle’s head while she frowned down at her handmaid’s pain-stricken face.

“Y-yes Azula-sama. As…you say.” The blonde-haired girl mumbled in a weak voice with her eyes closing against older female’s body while the princess brushed her finger against her cheek.

“What am I ever going to do with you peasant?  I told you no more tears and not even an hour later…and you are crying again.” The princess sighed with a shake of her head while she continued to pet the smaller girl’s tear stained cheek.

With her every breath her chest rose and fell while the dainty girl hid in her breasts while her friends sat in silence while she tenderly stroked her fingers against her little admirer’s cheek.

Only to gaze down at her handmaid with her brows furrowing in a questioning manner when she heard a muffled snore from her breast.

“Are you…sleeping? What do I look like? Your bed?” Azula snorted with her cold eyes peering down at Elle’s now dozing face while the small girl curled up against her chest.

“J-just let her sleep for a few minutes Azula. She’s…been through a lot.” Ty Lee spoke in a saddened voice with her fingers wiping at her eyes.

“I…didn’t know that she went through all of that.” Mai commented in a saddened voice at long last while Azula leaned back on her bottom with Elle in her arms.

“I swear this peasant is lucky that I like her this much…” The princess trailed off with another sigh while she massaged the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

“Yeah…Azula she is.” The brown-haired woman agreed with a sad smile while she gazed at her adopted sister adorably snoring against her leader’s chest.

“Listen here peasant. If you are going to use me as a pillow then I will just have to relocate you to a location of my choosing.” Azula remarked with a haughty roll of her eyes before she gently grasped ahold of her sleeping handmaid’s shoulder.

And then the other two women watched in an astonished silence when she tenderly lowered Elle’s head onto her right thigh.

The exhausted blonde never so much as even moved a muscle while she continued sleeping with tears staining her fair cheeks.

The princess lowered a hand into the snoring handmaid’s hair once more just as she began to pet the drowsing girl once more.

Indeed, what is she going to do with this one?

Such a troublesome girl…

But still perfect all the same.

[silver-lily-louise]

(Love Is) A Two-Way Street - a Shadowhunters fanfic

Summary: Set after 2.15, A Problem of Memory. After Valentine’s body-switch, Magnus isn’t the only one who has trouble sleeping. Word count: ~1.2k Warnings: Violence, blood, death (but not really)

~oOo~

‘Alexander? …No, no, please-’ He meets Valentine’s gaze coldly, shoving him into the chair. Herondale is right – this has gone on long enough. Valentine isn’t talking, and if the Clave won’t give the order to mete out justice, they’ll handle it themselves. ‘Please, Alexander, it’s me.’ Alec feels a surge of anger. He’s had enough of this game. Besides, is Valentine even trying? Magnus would never beg like this.

The Inquisitor presses the knife into his hand, and Valentine’s eyes go wide in fear. ‘No – no, Alexander, please-!’ The knife tears through Valentine’s throat, silencing him.

He looks small in death, brought low as he should be. The blood spills down tawny skin, and the eyes are lifeless, dull, even as the glamour flickers out and leaves them golden, and Alec drops the knife in wordless horror because it’s Magnus, it was him the whole time, and his hands reach out to touch, to mend – but it’s too late, he’s gone, Alec killed him he killed Magnus and oh god he can’t breathe-

Alec wakes, the fear still swirling in his mind. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, trying to get his bearings, and turns his head to the right – Magnus is there, sound asleep. Alec listens to his boyfriend’s steady breathing and wills himself to calm down.

He drags a hand down his face, stifling a sigh. Not again. Going back to sleep seems impossible, so Alec slowly gets out of bed, trying not to disturb Magnus, and pads out to the kitchen, ignoring the cold floors underneath his bare feet. He gets himself a glass of water – more because he needs something to do with his hands than because he’s thirsty – and trudges over to the softer of the two couches, curling up in the far corner and trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of being both exhausted and wide awake. 

He sits there a while, listening to the gentle tick-tick-tick of the clock, focusing on his breathing. His mind starts to wander, his earlier fear fading into a sort of pensive melancholy. Away from the warm bed and even warmer Magnus, he feels the chill begin to creep into his bones – but he can’t quite muster the energy to walk over and grab the blanket from the back of the other couch, so he stubbornly curls up a little tighter, tucking his feet underneath him.

‘Alexander?’ He hears Magnus’ bleary voice come from the bedroom, and feels a pang of guilt that his efforts to be quiet have obviously failed. Should have used a stealth rune, he thinks, only half-joking. Magnus has only just started sleeping properly again after the body switch with Valentine, and Alec hates to be the new reason his boyfriend can’t get a proper night’s rest.

Magnus wanders over to join him on the couch, sitting close with an exaggerated shiver. ‘Why are you out here in the cold?’ he asks, waving a hand absentmindedly, and Alec feels the air around them warm up a little. ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he says, aiming for a casual tone. Magnus hums thoughtfully. ‘This is the… fourth night? The fifth?’

Alec looks down at the glass in his hands, turning it in a slow rhythm. Apparently, it’s not just tonight that his stealth has been lacking. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.’ Magnus waves away the apology. ‘I’m not worried about that. I’m a little worried about you, though.’ Alec shrugs and tries to look nonchalant, the I’m fine implied, but Magnus persists. ‘Alec, if something’s wrong, you can tell me.’ His tone is probing, but gentle.

Alec wants to say It’s nothing, really, but his tiredness makes him more honest than he’d like. ‘No, I can’t.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘You’ve got enough to deal with right now. I don’t wanna add to it.’ They’re quiet for a moment, and Alec’s mind drifts back to Magnus’ confession, how broken he sounded recounting the memory forced on him by the agony rune. Pain that Alec could have spared him if he hadn’t been so blind.

Magnus shuffles closer, lifting Alec’s arm and settling it over his shoulders. He snaps his fingers, and the blanket from the other couch wraps itself around them. ‘I appreciate the thought, Alexander,’ he says, ‘but this isn’t a one-way street. There’s space for both of us to need a little taking care of.’ When he doesn’t get a response, Magnus sighs, and gently reaches up to turn Alec’s face back towards him. ‘Please let me help,’ he says softly.

Alec wants to hold firm, because he can do this, he can shoulder this alone and just be there for the man he loves. But Magnus had said please. Please let me help. No, Alexander, please-! And suddenly, Alec can’t hold it in any longer. ‘What happened in the cell,’ he says, the words tumbling out, and he can’t look at Magnus anymore. ‘I can’t get it out of my head. Because it was you, I was hurting you, and then with the Inquisitor, if Valentine hadn’t shown himself, what if I didn’t stop her from-‘ He cuts himself off, unable to finish, and takes a deep, steadying breath. He forces himself to meet Magnus’ eyes again, because this part’s important, and he needs to make sure Magnus knows. ‘I should have believed you when you told me what had happened. I should have known it was you. And I am so, so sorry.’

Magnus just stares at him for a moment, seeming a little surprised by the outburst but otherwise unreadable, and Alec’s heart beats double-time waiting for him to respond. When he does, it’s with a look of understanding, his hand coming up to Alec’s cheek. ‘I don’t blame you, Alexander,’ he says. ‘It was Valentine. Playing mind games is his modus operandi – just look at what he did to your parabatai. I desperately wanted you to believe me, but I know why you couldn’t.’ His eyes flick away for a moment. ‘What happened was… well, I was going to say difficult, but frankly it was fucking awful. And it’s taking me longer than I’d hoped to bounce back from it.’ He looks back at Alec, his gaze sincere. ‘But I don’t blame you.’

Alec swallows the lump in his throat, tightening his arm around Magnus. ‘Well, I’m glad,’ he says, ‘because I want to help. I want to… be here. For you.’ Magnus smiles, leaning up to kiss his cheek, and it feels like absolution. ‘I know. And you are.’ He stands up, disrupting the cocoon of warmth they’d developed, and Alec makes a small noise of complaint. ‘But neither of us are going to be any good to anyone unless we get some sleep. Come back to bed.’ He takes Alec’s hands, leading him back to the bedroom, and Alec goes willingly.

It’s another few nights before Alec stops seeing those lifeless golden eyes in his dreams, stops waking in fear and grief. But now, instead of leaving, he curls towards Magnus, and he is unfailingly met with a half-aware mumble and an arm flung around his waist, inviting him close. Lying there in the warmth of quiet forgiveness, it’s easy to go back to sleep.

~oOo~

[buttercup-of-kaer-morhen]

Of Thorns and Buttercups

~Ch 5/?~

(Beauty and the Beast AU, Kiiiinda. It has definite elements of the original story cause I’m a sap for Fairytale AUs. I hope you enjoy. Also shout out to @sophiakuso1 for being my beta. Here you can find Beginning or Previous) Geralt tries to figure out how to break the curse while battling with his feeling this time.

Note: Lew is pronounced Lef because it is polish just as a heads up.

Primary Tags: Beast! Geralt, Belle! Jaskier, Memory Alteration Via Curse, It really only affects Jaskier right now Also on AO3!

————————-

Geralt sat in the destroyed room that night after dinner, staring at the cage. He was specifically trying to not think about the fact that not only was the bard trapped in the cursed castle with him, but the bard also somehow lost his memory, most likely due to said curse… and it was all Geralt’s fault. The guilt swirling around in his chest was sickening and unwelcome. He just kept dragging the bard down with him. Geralt ran circles through his mind trying to figure out what he should do about the whole damn thing. After a while, he decided that it would be better at that point if he were to just stay away from the man as best as he could. If he did, then Jaskier would slowly realize he was wasting his time on a monster like Geralt, just like on the mountain. Geralt just had to figure out how to get Jaskier past the thorn vines keeping them imprisoned, but the witcher had a sinking feeling that it would require the curse being broken.

Geralt sighed, finally looking away from the silvered metal vines trapping the cluster of buttercups and realized the moon was high in the sky, much further in its journey than when he had fetched the bard to eat. It felt like he was not only losing time, but it also couldn’t move any slower. Watching the clock or trying to solve a problem in his head to pass the time was like watching tree sap drip in winter, but if he got lost in his thoughts, it flew by without him realizing. The memory of the almost completely dead rose and the warning of petals falling had dread creeping up his spine. He had a limit on his time, whether it was choosing to go fast or slow, until who knows what would happen, and it was all very similar to waiting in a dungeon for his own execution. Except this time, he had a bard to drag to his death with him and he had no idea where to even start to try and stop it… Except the weird journal! 

He wanted to smack himself for almost forgetting about its existence. He quickly collected the small book again and settled back onto the edge of the bed. He first flipped through, discovering that it was a journal of someone of the castle rather than magical notes or something of actual use, and oddly enough it only had the first few pages written in. Although it was just a journal, it reeked of magic, as did everything else in this place, which irked him a bit. Would nothing be easy?! A magical personal journal was most likely useful, but he didn’t know how yet until he actually read the damn thing. He sighed before settling further into the nest of fabric so he could at least be comfortable while slogging through the first entry that was most likely fraught with exaggerations he’d have to weed through. He did hope that more pages would fill as he read however, because perhaps there were magical inscriptions and spells on later pages… He could only hope. 

[The Date is Unreadable]

The years grow long since I came to my lord’s court and was given the honor of my knighthood. We have fought many battles side by side and I have completed every task, be it political or mundane, which he has given me. Although this life leaves me fulfilled, I feel as though I am missing something. I crave the companionship of another outside that of my fellow knights, my lord, and the countries that seem ever present now. Although the ladies I have been introduced to as of late are fine of figure and mind, none fill the hollow feeling that has steadily grown in my chest. 

I almost thought all hope was lost when while I was in the village today, I came upon the fairest maiden I had ever laid eyes upon. Her delicate features and poise rivaled that of any woman I have encountered across the lands on my travels. Her timid and delicate disposition only lends to her outward appearance, for as soon as I caught sight of her eyes, I could see the wild freedom that burned within. The fierce look called out to me and it lit my soul ablaze, but before I could make my way to her across the market, she was gone. Now I am haunted by the ethereal grace the lady has left instilled in my mind. 

It is not my will to cage or steal away her free spirited nature. I only wish to partake in it with her so I may feel alive like I once did while seeing the world in a new light provided by her fire. I plan to go to my lord upon the sun’s arrival and I will beseech him to help me find her so that I may earn the permission from her family so I may be allowed to court her. I pray this evening for everything to work in favor of us all. 

Geralt sighed heavily through his nose as his head fell back against the plush and he looked at the elaborate ceiling above. So far it was exactly what he feared it would be, the over-dramatized tellings of some Knight’s life that reads more like one of those sappy romantic tales Jaskier would constantly rave or sing about rather than an actual succinct telling of events. He couldn’t understand how any of this connected to the curse, but he begrudgingly decided to read on and see where he ended up. 

[The Date is Also Unreadable on this Entry]

 The leaves on the trees have turned to the colors of fire, and the world looks as though it has been set ablaze. I have only just returned from meeting with a neighboring lord, during which time I have gone nearly half a season without even a name of my lady love. Oh how she still torments my heart day and night with her absence. It is as though she has bewitched me, and I have no hold over my own self at present. My mind is filled almost entirely by her, and my only wish, if I am unable to win her affection, is to formally meet her. 

My lord sent word that he would make enquiries on my behalf while I was away and now that I have returned, anticipation steals my breath. My fellow knights jest that I  should have followed the path of a bard for how I constantly prattle on at them, waxing poetic of her spirit and sketching her form  from memory, as we travel between our destinations. Although I know it is only light fun on their part, I find myself getting sentimental as I ever grow closer to the middle of my life. I wonder deep in the night whether I would have been more suited to another life but, it is quickly dismissed as nonsensical at this stage. My lord has also made mention, as we are good friends, he feels as though we are practically brothers with how much trust he allows me, and he will be glad to hire me as the official court bard if a change of profession ever truly struck my fancy. They all mock kindly but it warms me at my core to know there are those in my life who indulge my whims. 

Still, Sir Gregor questions why I will not simply give my heart to one of the many ladies of the court  who fancy me, and proclaims me mad in the head for not doing so. I have given up on trying to explain the incredible sensation she has left within me. He will never understand such yearning and passion that has filled me since I took the sight of her in for the first time. I feel pity for the man, but as I rest tonight, I hold hope in my heart for what my lord has to say come morning. 

Geralt found reading this to be akin to dying slowly. Plodding through someone’s desperate yearning was the worst torture he has had to endure yet but at least there was something that hinted at magic in this passage. Geralt also observed that several pages were sketches of a beautiful woman with light hair, tawny skin, and dark eyes. He could not tell if the drawings were exaggerated by the knight’s besottment or if the woman could have possibly been fae or magic of some kind, glamoured just enough to hide the obvious parts while maintaining unnatural beauty. It could have explained why the curse magic was so strong and tricky. Magic was tricky in general, but fae magic was notoriously known for being a bitch, and he had been warned off from meddling in their affairs a long time ago for that exact reason… Now, here he was, knee deep in the shit. He’d have to figure it out one way or another. Deciding he’d be better off just reading the damn thing to completion rather than dithering on about what it could be, he turned his attention back to the book.

To his frustration, the rest of the pages remained blank. Unable to hold in his anger from hitting one road block after another, he threw the damned thing across the room with a growl and it landed with a satisfying rustle of paper before sliding somewhere out of sight. Unable to stand laying around anymore, he got up and began pacing through the quarters barely containing his aggravation. He wondered what to do now. That had been his last lead other than the meaningless riddle the beast had given him. He wanted to go out and train so he could take his frustrations out on something, but no, Jaskier was out there thinking he was just some random beast, and Geralt really didn’t want to add to the image his form presented currently. He wanted to break the curse, but he kept hitting wall after wall! He wanted… No. He needed someone to help him fix this entire mess, but there was no way for him to contact anyone other than the man who no longer remembered him. No wolves or powerful witches or plucky bards who glued themselves to Geralt’s side day and night were there to help him this time around. 

“Fuck…” The defeated syllable slipped from his lips as he sank to the cold stone floor while holding his face in his hands, the fur feeling strange but increasingly familiar under his touch… Jaskier had called him a beast. Geralt had never thought the bard would ever-- He had been the only one who hadn’t ever called the witcher a monster or recoiled at the sight of him. On the contrary, he would often defend Geralt from villagers who called him vile names, and even went as far as to attack the truly aggressive offenders… But now the Witcher was a beast with no name. The bard’s voice uttering the word kept repeating over and over again in his head. Geralt only had himself to blame. If he hadn’t yelled, if Jaskier had still been by his side, then maybe the troubadour would have never lost his memories. 

He had been so caught up in his own spiraling thoughts, Geralt almost didn’t notice the other voice suddenly filling the room. “Oi! Mopin’ about are we?” The warbled feminine voice cleaved through the once silent space but it came from seemingly nowhere as he scanned the area. Getting up, he searched as the squawking continued up until the point he came into view of a fractured mirror that had been hidden behind a moth eaten drape. As he looked in confusion at the mirror, due to the fact that the reflection was certainly not his own, the visage of the old hag from the town moaned in disappointment and shook her head at him from behind the reflective silver backed surface. “You fool Witcher! I-- I sent you to break the curse, not become cursed yourself, you nitwit!” She scolded with an exhausting scowl. If she were in her youth, he was sure she would remind him of Yen in some ways. 

He couldn’t help growling in frustration as he met her steely scowl with his own. “How was I expected to break a curse you refused to give me proper information on?! And you seem to still have some magic, so why not do it yourself if you knew how to?!” He tried to keep himself from snarling at the hag, but she was infuriating and the worry, as well as the earlier frustrations, were just compiling together. 

She took a moment to settle herself before sighing and gathering her thoughts, he assumed. In a calmer tone, she spoke again. “I cannot tell you about the curse in depth… Only pieces, and I cannot go there like yourself.” Her voice slowly became graver as she spoke and looked him directly in the eye. No lie then…

He grit his teeth before saying anything else, more civilly as Jaskier would have called it. “Why?”

“I just can’t… but I can help you as best as I can. This ain’t your curse, but you’re stuck with it--” It suddenly occurred to him that her accent was different from when they had met in her old shack which was… Odd.

“I know. I’m the making of my own curse. The beast said it before he died. Also, why do you sound different now?” He interrupted her as his annoyance rose again. 

“Shut it, you daft tit! Don’t interrupt me when I’m trying to help!” She spat at him, shaking a frail fist at him from behind the glass while once again scowling at him. Then after a beat, she continued. “Came to these lands years ago from far off and regretted it. Folks don’t take kindly to those different, so I glamoured my voice.” She clarified with an eye roll. Yup. Definitely Yen if she were to ever age. 

He chewed over the words as he felt some of the tension seep away. “Fair… So what can you tell me that will actually be useful?” He asked, sagging slightly, the memory of Jaskier looking at him in fear and no recognition was still a fresh would in his mind. 

“Hmmmmm… Though the curse is harsh, it’s not cruel. Born of grief it was…” The hag looked as though she were fighting her own mouth before she sighed once again. “Although it imprisons, it’ll give you everythin’ you need to break the curse. Don’t be a fool. If anythin’ appears there, then it’s for a reason. Make use of it or dither till you die in a prison of your own design. Only you can figure why you’re cursed.” She spoke critically but at least it was something useful to which he nodded in thanks thinking that her image would fade then. “Witcher! If you’re in dire straits, knock thrice on the looking glass and think o’ where you wanna see, or to whom you wish to speak. Only I’ll be able to answer back, however.” She offered hastily and after he nodded again, she was gone in a blink of an eye. The mirror now only held his own beastly reflection. 

He mulled over the words, realizing the night had grown long after that disaster of a dinner and it was now the witching hour; If he didn’t try to sleep now, then he would be tired and upset the next day, and he really didn’t need himself snapping at the bard again in misplaced irritation. So, he laid in the shredded nest of a bed and thought more on Jaskier. If he was brought here for a reason, then why steal his memories? And why would Geralt ever curse himself? Perhaps the magic was twisting a subconscious thought from the back of Geralt’s mind into something strange and problematic. But still, why the bard of all people? He drifted into an uneasy sleep thinking about all the new information. 

When he woke, the world was bright outside the crystalline windows, and there was a fuzziness to the world that followed waking from a deep sleep. The room was better around him, healed of the scars of broken and shattered furniture. He supposed this had been what the hag had spoken of; the keep was providing things slowly. He moved through the morning muzzy headed, letting his body rely on muscle memory as he went through several tasks of morning preparation. His head was clearer by the time he visited Roach in the stables where she waited patiently to be tended to and given exercise. He saddled her and checked it twice over before seating himself in the saddle… which was odd, seeing as he was so much bigger now that he was cursed, but she made no indication that he was too heavy or bothersome. The fogginess was back and his concerns evaporated as he rode out into the fiery forest. The foliage in hues of red and orange rushed past as he went further and further, nearing the small hidden lake between the castle and the town. Its waters shone gold as though the water were a dragon’s hoard of coin and riches in the early hours, but the beauty of it could not compare to the figure standing at it’s banks. 

Geralt barely remembered getting down from Roach or silently moving forward to observe the figure more closely, but then his mind cleared again and realization washed over him that the figure was in fact Jaskier. The bard was peacefully gazing out at the calm waters, but he wore odd clothing that Geralt swore he had never seen him in before. Instead of his usually short doublet, he wore a well fitted jacket of some sort that trailed all the way to the floor in the back and the front, but had slits up to the hips to show his well fitted trousers and tall boots. A part of it irked Geralt to no end, because it looked good, but strange and unlike the man at the same time. It was all reminiscent of a dress yet not. It was almost a coat he could imagine Yen wearing, but the garments were a soft blue trimmed in accents of red. It was a nostalgic reminder of Jaskier’s outfit from when they first met. 

The situation was so bizarre that Geralt wanted to question what was happening but before he could think, his body took an unconscious step forward snapping a twig under his heel. Jaskier’s coat whirled around him as he spun and caught sight of him, but there was no fear in his eyes, only confusion and curiosity. “Apologies my lady, I did not mean to frighten you. I was merely curious when I spotted a figure as I rode passed. Are you all right?” What the fuck was that? Geralt understood that it was his voice that spoke but the words were not his own. Icy understanding filled his gut and he knew now that this obviously had something to do with magic. 

“Very kind of you sir. I was just wanting to enjoy the still beauty of the morning and happened upon this lake.” Jaskier smiled brilliantly at him, his voice sounding exactly how Geralt remembered but there was an edge to it that sounded off. Unnatural. This was definitely not Jaskier. 

“I… I’ve seen you in the town but I’ve never had the pleasure to meet your acquaintance in person. I hoped to speak with you, if not just hear your name. I am Lew.” Geralt introduced himself with a foreign name. That was definitely not his name, and he hated how it felt coming out of his mouth, but he seemed to have no control over himself. With dawning horror, Geralt now understood that this was someone else's memories that he was now occupying. It could have been Jaskiers, or someone else from the castle, or even the writer of the journal. Geralt couldn’t be sure yet, and the bard couldn’t be ruled out immediately since the witcher realized he knew practically nothing of Jaskier’s past… It just kept getting messier and messier as he was dragged further into the spell. Whoever wove the threads of this magic somehow got it completely tangled into a ball of shit. 

“Ania. I have only come to live here a year or so ago, which is why we most likely have yet to meet formally.” Jaskier spoke in an amused tone, but Geralt was pretty damn sure that was not his bard’s real name. It was Jaskier. Maybe it wasn’t the bard’s memories after all. Geralt was going to have a difficult time remembering this was not actually the bard himself then but only the spell filling in a face with someone he knew. It was already getting so confusing in his mind, so Geralt decided to just keep using the name attached to the face he knew instead of using the ones he’d heard. Deciding it wouldn’t do much good to fight the memory, he settled in and let everything happen around him. The troubadour looked so much softer now than when they were ever on the road though. It made something in his chest flutter, but he was unsure if it was actually him or the owner of the memory feeling it. 

The witcher found himself wanting to say more, ask more about Jaskier, but the words had left him and his mouth refused to work. It felt like it was his only chance and it was fleeting right before his eyes. The strange visage of the bard suddenly looked off into the distance behind himself before returning a sheepish look to Geralt. “I… I have to go.” His voice was hesitant as Geralt slowly reached a hand out to the man, as if not wanting the bard to leave, but still unable to find the words. Jaskier smiled gently, before biting his lower lip as though he were trying to decide something. The witcher didn’t understand why he was paying such close attention to everything Jaskier did but he was. “I hope our paths cross again, Lew.” And with that, the man fled into the forest with his jacket fluttering behind him.  Geralt would have followed, curious as to if this person was human or not and get answers, but it would appear that the original “Lew” had been frozen with indecision in that moment. His heart raced, which felt strange to Geralt, but then things melted away and the Witcher was once again opening his eyes to the sunlight streaming through the windows. This time however, the room was still destroyed and the light was the cold shine of a winter morning. Geralt found himself staring up at the ceiling in complete bafflement, unable to really understand what the curse could have possibly thought he’d glean from that experience. He sat up in a huff and couldn’t help the puff of agitated words that slipped out of his throat. “What the fuck…” Then he was out of the chambers and headed for the stables to tend to Roach. If anything calmed him down and helped him to organize his thoughts, it was quality time with the mare.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Ego

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Years ago, comic book movies were absolutely, totally afraid to be even a little weird. Raimi carried the weirdness torch for a while thanks to the success of the Spider-Man trilogy, but for some reason he was the only person unafraid to be goofy; even Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, a movie about one of the more fun and campy classical hero teams, was completely and utterly afraid to show a big man in purple armor who eats planets and so instead opted to show us an intergalactic fart cloud. The precedent set by franchises like Blade, X-Men, and Nolan’s Batman films lingered for a long time.

Then along came James Gunn.

Gunn is a man unafraid to be weird, and Guardians of the Galaxy really changed the game in 2014. There’s a gun-toting raccoon, a talking tree, a bald blue cyborg woman, and an alcoholic duck, and the movie is a smash hit critically and financially; there is now no excuse not to put the wierdest stuff from the comics faithfully into film. And for the sequel, Gunn apparently saw fit to bring in one of Marvel’s most bonkers bad guys: Ego, the Living Planet.

Ego is the perfect example of how to adapt something utterly bizarre from the comics, changing some major elements while still staying true to the nature of the character himself. Ego here is Peter Quill’s father, something that isn’t true in the comics, as well as a Celestial, something also not true in the comics… but he is still a sentient planet, and he is still completely and utterly evil.

Actor: Kurt Russell, 80s superstar and the reason Solid Snake exists, plays Ego to perfection. Ego is a character with, well, an ego; he’s selfish, self-centered, and lacking in empathy, but he also needs to come off as charming and friendly or we the audience would see through him immediately. Russell is the exact perfect man for that job; this is a guy who managed to play a character who was mildly transphobic and still have them come off as likable. Russell is also able to switch from affable and charming to scary and furious with ease, which is a big help after the reveal when Ego drops all pretense. Russell just kills it, there’s no other way to put it.

Motivation/Goals: Ego has an almost sympathetic goal, one that, from a certain point of view, makes him come off as a bit sympathetic. The guy was drifting alone in the void for eons and had to piece himself together, so is it any wonder he was horrifically lonely when he was finally able to set out to find life? Of course, that loneliness and isolation led to him developing some really nasty personality traits, and so he decided the best course of action after finding out other intelligent life was “boring” was to plant seeds on every planet, sire a child with powers just like him, and then wipe out all life and turn all the planets in the universe into extensions of himself. It is a plan truly befitting a character with the name “Ego,” and while it is true his motivation is at least a little deserving of sympathy, his goals and how he goes about trying to ameliorate his pain is what makes Ego an irredeemable monster.

Personality: Ego is perhaps one of the most aptly named characters in all of fiction, and he’s also one of the few characters one could make the honest claim that his ego is literally the size of a planet. Ego puts forth this identity of a charming, fatherly figure, happy, affable, jokey… just really sweet and charming. But much like the avatar he uses, it’s all just a mask.

Look at how he talks about what he did to Peter’s mom; he says it with such a wistful, resigned melancholy flavored with this “I did what I had to do” smugness that is a twisted reflection of how one might recall their first date, and then follows it up with a horrifically callous response of “I know that sounds bad.” Ego is such a monstrous, unrepentant sociopath with so little regard for life that is beneath his lofty stature that I just don’t think he really comprehends things like empathy. He is the ultimate psychopathic manchild, an arrogant egotist who hides behind this friendly veneer until the moment things don’t go the way he wants, at which point he starts screaming, ranting, and raving. The fact he is completely and utterly taken aback that Peter would unload multiple shots into him after being told Ego gave his mother a brain tumor is really telling of just what kind of person he really is.

Final Fate: The bomb Groot planted on Ego’s brain goes off, and Ego’s avatar crumbles to dust as the planet begins to blow up, seeing as its brain just got obliterated. The beautiful karma of this moment makes it extra delicious; after putting that tumor on Meredith Quill’s brain, is it not fitting he die after having something planted on his brain?

Best Scene: Ego just really dominates every scene he’s in, but I think the big reveal, where he shows just what a sick and depraved villain with a lack of care for life as he reveals what he did to Meredith Quill, is one of the MCU’s finest scenes.

Best Quote: It took only one single line to cement Ego as the most horrible, evil, disgusting monster in the MCU: “It broke my heart to put that tumor in her head.”

Final Thoughts & Score: Ego is fantastic on so many levels, but one level I think should not be overlooked is on a meta level. As I mentioned, for the longest time silliness and weird concepts were out the door when it came to superhero films. One needs only look at the X-Men franchise to see how dour things were, with their dull black costumes and overwhelmingly miserable and unfun atmospheres. More lighthearted or sillier fare did not go over well, as Iron Man 2 and Green Lantern can attest, and magic was totally absent for a while in the MCU probably because of fears audiences wouldn’t take it seriously. But James Gunn changed all that, and I think Ego definitely played a huge role in cementing that audiences will embrace and love in the weirdest stuff out of comics. Thanks to Ego, I think a lot of other creators became unafraid to let that freak flag fly and put things in movies they might have been too worried to put in before, with the ultimate and best example being Mister Mind joining the DCEU in the end of Shazam! It gives me hope that Tawky Tawny might show up there in a sequel.

On a character level, Ego is without a doubt the most punchable scumbag in the entire MCU, with only Mysterio coming close. The fact he casually admits to killing Peter’s mother and expects him to be okay with it… Can you really blame Peter for immediately unloading his guns into his father? I mean, when faced with a man who is utterly unrepentant in killing a loved one that they also claimed they loved and says they had to do it to further their goals, would you not also have a knee-jerk reaction like that? Yes, I am getting at this being a canon moment that shows Peter’s reaction to Thanos in Infinity War was not a stupid moment, it was a moment that was built up by what he did to Ego. And I think that just adds to Ego even more, because he helped cement a character trait of Peter’s that would lead to one of the most horrific gut punches in cinematic history.

Ego is an easy 10/10, and is one of the MCU’s greatest villains. He’s a perfect “love to hate” character, and he’s also a perfect villain for a story about family. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 has family as a focal point of the story, with the arcs of every single character revolving around the idea that family doesn’t have to be blood ties, it can be with the people who love you and who you’ve bonded with the most. Yondu’s line of “He may’ve been your father, boy, but he wasn’t your daddy” is what really sells it, honestly; Ego is Peter’s biological father, yes, but Yondu raised him and even if he didn’t always do right by him, in the end he showed himself to be a better man and better dad than Ego ever could have hoped to be. I suppose that’s a bit off topic from Ego himself, but I feel like it’s important to note just how deeply thematic he is as a villain, tying into the core message of the story while also letting loose in utter sociopathic villainy.

I think there is a great irony in Ego’s ultimate plan; for all his claims of being lonely and desiring others like him, what exactly does he think would happen if the entire universe was nothing but himself? Would he truly have been satisfied? Perhaps; he was a narcissistic to the highest degree for sure. But I like that there is some ambiguity to things about Ego, I like how there are some things to think about, I like how a villain who has a plan that is not clearly thought out by them yet that they believe is the proper course of action is something of a setup for what Thanos would be.

And really, out of every other villain in the MCU, Ego is most like Thanos. The obvious part is the plan, though only Endgame Thanos really wanted to reshape the universe in his image; still, as I mentioned, their plans are both something they believe is the true and righteous course of action, though Thanos is far more sympathetic in this regard. They also both felt the need to sacrifice loved ones in pursuit of their goals, and they both have incredibly poor relationships with some of their kids. I think the main difference is that Thanos, for all his faults, does have some empathy, he does have some sympathetic traits even if they don’t redeem how much of an awful person he was. Ego has none of that. Ego squanders any sympathy he could have gained by being utterly unrepentant and casual about his misdeeds, which include slaughtering his other children and killing Peter’s mother despite claiming to have loved her dearly. At least Thanos openly wept at what he did to Gamora, at least he felt sadness,  guilt, and regret. Ego just doesn’t care. He did it because whatever he really felt for Meredith, there was only one person he could ever truly love: Himself.

In short, Yondu was right: that guy was a jackass.

[massivedrickhead]

Home: Chapter 6/8

Read on fanfic.net

I do not own Pitch Perfect or Harry Potter or any of their characters

Sixth Year

His patience was wearing thin now, each attack getting more and more furious.

Beca felt like each curse was forcing her backwards, and she could barely get her wand up in time to throw out her counter curses.

He let out a shout of frustration.

"Enough!" He yelled. "Stupefy!"

The jet of red light shot out of the end of his wand and this time Beca didn't deflect it.

She was exhausted, and it was almost a relief when the red light hit her squarely in the chest.

She felt herself get lifted of her feet and she knew a split second of relief before darkness spread through her and she was slammed into the wall behind her.

When Beca thinks back on her sixth year of Hogwarts, instead of dwelling on the death of Albus Dumbledore or all the other dark things that happened at school, she always thinks about the summer before sixth year had even started.

It had gone from the worst to the best summer of her life in the matter of a few days.

She had spent the summer with Chloe and her family, and it was perfect. They had spent the days hanging out in the fields and trees around her home. Beca had tried to teach Chloe how to fly, and Chloe had tried to Beca how to bake.

They had read together, both lounged on Chloe's sofa. They had sang together, lying in the grass in Chloe's back garden. They had wandered around Chloe's town, and made the trip to Diagon Alley to get their school supplies. And Beca was genuinely happy.

When she thinks back, that first night at Chloe's house was the moment that stuck in her head. That was when Chloe had shown her what love felt like.

It had been tense in Beca's home when she'd returned after her fifth year of Hogwarts. Her dad had been more full of hatred and disgust towards her than he ever had before.

Beca's usual method of surviving the summer at home was to stay in her room out of her dad's way, but this year he didn't seem satisfied by that.

He had been having his Death Eater friends over a lot, and he would make Beca serve them drinks.

Beca wasn't sure why. He was usually embarrassed by her presence and wouldn't acknowledge her as his daughter unless he had to. But now he seemed to make a point of introducing her to the numerous dark witches and wizards who frequented their home.

She wondered if it was to intimidate her. Maybe he thought that by reminding her that he was friends with dark and powerful witches and wizards she would be too afraid to act out and defy him.

It didn't work.

One afternoon she was re-filling her dad's and his friends' glasses when she made the mistake of rolling her eyes at something one of them said.

"What was that, girl?" A man asked.

"Nothing," Beca said, quickly.

"I've heard all about you," he said. "Not a fan of the Dark Arts I've heard."

"That's right," Beca said, sounding braver than she felt. She was tired of this. Tired of having to wait on these animals that her dad called friends. Maybe if she embarrassed him, she'd be allowed to keep out of the way when they came over.

"What a disgrace," a woman said.

"You're a pure-blood Slytherin and you don't like the Dark Arts?!" Another man asked, incredulous. "I bet you love Albus Dumbledore and that you believe mudbloods deserve the same rights as us pure-bloods."

"Something like that," Beca said. Her eyes met her dad's who stared at her with contempt. "I'm not a pure-blood though, am I dad?"

"Enough," her dad said, his voice hard and cold.

"Why? Haven't you told all your friends that my mom was a muggle?"

"You need to show your father some respect!" The woman said. "Spouting filthy lies like that!"

"I can teach her some respect if you'd like John," the first man said, toying with his wand.

"Why did you lie, Dad? Afraid your precious Dark Lord wouldn't like it if he found out you'd had sex with a mug-"

"Crucio!" The first man shouted, his wand pointed at Beca.

Pain like Beca had never felt before exploded inside her. She didn't remember falling to the floor, her head smacking off a table on the way down, and she didn't remember when she started screaming. All she knew was that this was the worst pain she'd ever experienced and she wanted it to stop.

She needed it to stop. She wanted to die. This pain had gone on for too long, how could she still be alive? It had to kill her soon. It had to.

And suddenly it was over.

She lay on the ground, shaking and breathing heavily, her head bleeding from where it had hit the table. The pain was slowly receding but Beca didn't stand up.

"That'll teach her some manners," the man who had cursed her said, sounding pleased with himself.

She waited for her dad to say something, anything, but he didn't. She struggled to her feet and turned to see him still sitting in his chair, his expression unchanged.

She wanted to run to her room but she was scared to turn her back.

"May I be excused?" She asked, her voice shaking.

With a smirk of satisfaction, her dad nodded his head. Beca turned and left, running up the stairs as soon as she was out of their sight.

Her hands were shaking as she pulled a sheet of parchment, her quill, and a well of ink out of her desk drawer.

'Chloe,

I need help.

Can I come and stay with you please?

I can explain more if/when I see you.

Beca.'

She went to the cage in the corner of her room where her Tawny Owl Newt was sleeping, his head tucked beneath his wing. She had bought Newt the previous year when she had started writing to Chloe more frequently.

"Hey bud," she said softly, stroking his feathers.

He let out an annoyed hoot at being woken up.

"I know, I'm the worst," she said. "I need some help, Newt. I need you to get this to Chloe as fast as you can. Can you do that for me?"

He nipped her fingers with his beak affectionately, and held out his leg so she could attach the letter to it.

"Thank you," she said, opening her bedroom window so he could fly out.

She quickly and quietly packed her clothes, books and the school supplies that she had taken out of her trunk over the last few weeks. She wanted to be ready to go quickly. She didn't know what Chloe's response would be, but she didn't want to be in this place any longer than she had toq.

Now the adrenaline was starting to fade away, she was left feeling aching, tired and shaken.

She dropped onto her bed and hoped Chloe would get back to her soon.

She must have fallen asleep because it felt like minutes later when Newt was hooting beside her, nipping her with his beak.

"Ow," Beca muttered, disoriented. It was starting to get dark and she reached out to switch on a light.

Newt hooted again and Beca took the letter from him.

'Beca,

Of course you can come and stay.

My parents and I are coming to get you tonight. If you can be on the corner of your street, where the street sign is, by 7pm we will leave then. If he won't let you out, or for whatever reason you aren't here by 7:30pm, we're coming to the house to get you.

Stay safe.

Chloe.'

Beca checked her watch and saw that it was 6:30pm.

She coaxed Newt back into his cage and picked up her trunk with her other hand.

She crept downstairs and almost made it to the front door when she heard her dad speak.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Why do you care?" Beca replied, her voice shaking. "You don't want me here and I don't want to be here. This is for the best."

He didn't speak for a few minutes. "You're right," he said. "I don't want you to come back here, Rebeca. Ever."

"Good," Beca said.

And she left the house without another word.

She went to the corner of her street and sat on the wall and waited. She was shivering from a mixture of cold and fear. She was terrified that her dad would change his mind and come back for her. She was scared that Chloe wouldn't show up, or that she'd go to a different location. Chloe hadn't ever visited her house before, but she knew that her parents were familiar with the area.

Beca looked at her watch and saw that it was 6:50pm. A second later she heard a crack that made her leap off the wall and hold her wand out in front of her.

"Beca," Chloe said, rushing over to her from where she'd apparated to. Beca sighed with relief and let her wand drop.

"Hi," Beca said, softly, hugging Chloe tightly.

"What happened?" Chloe asked.

"I'll tell you later," Beca said, looking around. "Please can we go?"

"Of course," Chloe said. "Mom, are we ready?"

"Yes," Mrs Beale said. Beca met both of Chloe's parents briefly at the train station at the end of her first year at Hogwarts, and she'd had small conversations with them every year since, but she didn't know them very well.

"Beca, honey, if you take my hand you can do side-along apparition with me. Chloe will go with her dad and he'll take your luggage too. Let your owl fly to our place though, he won't like apparition.

"Sure," Beca said. "Newt, buddy, can you go to Chloe's house? We'll meet you there." She opened the cage and he hooted before taking off into the sky once more. "Thank you so much for this," Beca said as she took Chloe's mom's hand.

"That's okay," she said. "We can talk about it soon. Ready?"

"Ready."

Mrs Beale turned on the spot and Beca suddenly felt herself get squeezed from every possible angle. Her chest felt tight and she couldn't draw a breath. She wanted to cry out as she was getting crushed, but couldn't make a sound.

And then it was over, and she was standing outside a two story house. The house was small but it was surrounded by grassy fields and trees. She knew from listening to Chloe talk that the her family owned most of the grounds surrounding their home.

"Let's go inside," Chloe said, taking Beca's hand. Beca looked away from the house to see Chloe staring at her, her eyes full of concern. "Have a seat," Chloe said when they got into the kitchen.

Beca sat down at the kitchen table. She felt drained and sick but so relieved to be here.

"Chloe I'm gonna make some food, can you take care of Beca?" Mrs Beale said.

"Yeah," Chloe said.

"Thank you for coming to get me," Beca said. She heard Chloe rummaging around in a cupboard before she came to sit at the table beside her. She had a small bottle labeled 'Essence of Dittany' and a cloth in her hand.

"You don't need to keep thanking us," Chloe said. She opened the bottle and poured some onto the cloth. "This might sting a bit."

"I do need to thank you," Beca said, as Chloe dabbed the cloth onto the cut on her forehead.

"What did he do to you?" Chloe asked.

"It wasn't him. Or, not directly him. He had some of his Death Eater buddies over and I should have kept my mouth shut and I didn't. One of them used the Cruciatus curse on me, and I hit my head on the table," Beca said, her voice devoid of emotion.

She heard a gasp behind her.

"He did what?" Mrs Beale asked. "That's illegal, he'll go to Azkaban for that."

Beca shrugged. "He won't though. I don't think the Ministry cares about this kind of thing right now."

"So this guy used the Cruciatus curse on you… He used an unforgivable curse on you, and your dad just sat there?"

"Pretty much," Beca said.

"He didn't stop them? He didn't say anything?" Chloe asked, appalled.

"Nope," Beca said. "Are you surprised? You know who this guy is, right? You know what he's done?"

"Yeah, but you're his kid," Chloe said.

Beca laughed. "Chloe, he hates me."

"I'm so sorry, Beca," Chloe said, pulling her into a hug. "You're safe now."

Beca hugged her back, closing her eyes. "Thank you."

"I have a bed set up for you in Chloe's room," Mrs Beale said, once hers and Chloe's hug had ended. "Once you've eaten you can go and make yourself comfortable. You look exhausted so I'm guessing you're gonna want to turn in early, but you don't have to."

"Thank you Mrs Beale," Beca said. "I mean it, I really can't thank you all enough."

"You don't need to thank us anymore, honey. I'm glad we got you out of there," Mrs Beale said.

She put a bowl of thick vegetable soup in front of Beca along with a couple of rolls of warm bread.

"My Mom's a feeder," Chloe said, helping herself to one of Beca's rolls. "Don't feel like you have to eat it all."

Beca didn't answer, but shovelled the soup down as if she hadn't eaten properly in weeks. "It's really good," she said between mouthfuls.

Chloe's mom rested a hand lightly on Beca's back. "Thank you. There'll always be food for you here. And safety."

Once Beca had finished eating, Chloe showed Beca up to her room.

Beca couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"So did Helga Hufflepuff throw up in here?" Beca asked, laughing.

"What? I have a little house pride!" Chloe said, glad to see Beca laugh.

Chloe's room was covered in Hufflepuff flags and pennants. She also had a poster of the Holyhead Harpies, a Weird Sisters poster, a lot of photographs of her and her friends and family, and a large double bed full of cushions and blankets.

There was a camp bed set up on the floor, and Beca saw that Chloe's dad had brought up her trunk.

"I'm super tired," Beca said, pulling some pyjamas out of her trunk. "Is it okay if I turn in?"

"Of course it is," Chloe said. "Listen, I know my Mom has set up the camp bed, but it isn't very comfy. If you're okay with it, you can share my bed if you want?"

Beca swallowed. "Would your Mom be okay with that?"

"Yeah, she told me I could ask you. As long as there wasn't any funny business," Chloe said, and Beca laughed.

"Are you okay with it?"

"I wouldn't have asked you if I wasn't Bec," Chloe said. "If it makes you uncomfortable or anything you don't have to. You can even take the bed and I'll take the camp bed."

"No," Beca said. "I'd… I'd like to share with you. It's been a really rough day and… And I could use a bit of… good human contact. Does that make sense?"

"If you wanna be the little spoon you just have to ask," Chloe teased.

"Shut up," Beca said, laughing. "I'm gonna go change."

Beca went into the bathroom and changed into some pyjamas and brushed her teeth. When she got back to the bedroom Chloe was already changed.

"Make yourself comfortable," Chloe said, kissing Beca on the cheek, before leaving to brush her own teeth.

Beca hovered beside the bed, not sure what to do. She felt weird getting into the bed before Chloe did, so she waited.

"That's a weird way to get comfy," Chloe said when she got back to the room, closing the door behind her.

"Sorry," Beca said with a nervous laugh. "I didn't want to just make myself at home."

Chloe climbed into the bed before patting the empty space beside her.

"Come here," she said softly.

Beca got into the bed, and Chloe flicked off the lamp. She then wrapped her arms around Beca's waist and pulled her close.

"Is this okay?" She asked. Her breath tickled the back of Beca's neck.

"Yeah," Beca said, letting out a shaky breath. "This is exactly what I needed. I… I needed someone to touch me without… without hurting me."

Chloe's grip tightened. "I'll never hurt you, Becs."

"I know," Beca said, smiling.

"I'm so glad you're here," Chloe said.

"Me too," Beca replied.

[quentinsquill]

Fic: “Four Letters and a Funeral” (The Magicians)

Four Letters and a Funeral

Author: Lexalicious70

Fandom: The Magicians

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1,943

Warnings: Canon character death

Spoilers for 3x05

Summary: Four letters from the mosaic universe and how they play a part in the lives of Quentin, Eliot, Arielle, and little Rupert.

Author’s Notes: This is for the @whitespiresarmory’s Armory Challenge, Week 3: “Letters.” All errors are my own. I don’t own The Magicians, this is just for the fun of it all. Comments and kudos are magic: enjoy!

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758550

Four Letters and a Funeral

By Lexalicious70 (all_hale_eliot)

 Quentin wrote a letter the evening he’d kissed Eliot.

 Words always came to him simpler when he put them on paper. There was no eye contact to maintain, phrases and meanings could be chosen with more care, and his pen didn’t stutter or become afflicted with a severe case of what Eliot called the ‘uhms.’ With these circumstances came a kind of confidence that Quentin didn’t possess very often, and the letter flowed out onto the page as Eliot dozed on the blanket they’d laid out earlier in the evening. The words flickered in the firelight.

 Dear Eliot,

 I’ve never been very good at being sure of my actions. No matter the situation, I usually end up second guessing myself or obsessing over the outcome had I chosen the other option. You’re probably aware of this, and maybe you’ve even been on the receiving end of this habit I can’t seem to shake. But I want you to know that tonight, when I kissed you, I’ve never been surer of anything, even when Dean Fogg asked me if I wanted to study magic at Brakebills.

 I keep thinking about the way you kissed me back . . . it was so different than the night we had with Margo. I don’t remember a lot of details, but your kisses then were hungry, like you’d been waiting your whole life to kiss me. I don’t know if it was the wine or the emotion bottles or if you really had been waiting to kiss me since the moment we met, but the time we spent together tonight makes me realize that it doesn’t have to be complicated; it seems like we both want the same thing, so why the fuck not? We’re here, and we care about each other, and that feels like it’s enough. I’m sorry that it’s taken me a year to figure this out, but I do love you, Eliot, and I hope it’s not too late for me to live my life here—to live it with you.

 Yours, Always,

 Q

 Quentin slipped the letter into Eliot’s pocket and stretched out next to him on the homespun blanket, under the cover of starlight, before giving himself over to sleep.

 5 Days Later

 A letter appeared tucked between the pages of The World in the Walls, which Quentin had been carrying in his Sharo bag when they’d traveled to this universe. Eliot was outside sorting mosaic tiles, and Quentin pushed back his long hair as he sat down in the little eating nook they’d made and opened the sheet of cream-colored parchment. Eliot’s handwriting was as elegant as everything else about him, the script leaning toward the right.

Dear Q,

 There is no ‘maybe’ when it comes to being on the receiving end of your lack of self-confidence, but thank you for acknowledging that shortcoming. I have plenty of my own, however, so please don’t think that I hold this against you. We all have our demons, and sometimes they cause us to hurt the ones we care about.

 I never expected you to kiss me that night, but my God, it was like you opened a door that I was sure had slammed shut that night with Margo (actually more like shut and then nailed closed,) and you gave me another chance at something I thought I had ruined forever because I was selfish. And I was hungry that night, Q, I’d been dreaming of the taste of your lips, your skin, your cock . . . and I gave into my desires even though I knew it was selfish. Maybe I knew, as drunk as I was, that what we did was bound to cause trouble between you and Alice. I don’t know if I can say I’m sorry for that, because once I tasted you, Q, all I’ve ever wanted was more.

 I have plenty of reasons to refuse you: the strangeness of this world, the thought that you may just be lonely, my own issues with commitment and my fears that I may somehow end up hurting you. But all that aside, Q, I have one overwhelming reason for saying yes, and it’s this: I love you, Quentin Coldwater. From the moment you stumbled from the bushes, sweaty and floppy-haired, and asked me if you were hallucinating, you’ve held a piece of my heart.

 That being said, all I can do now is offer you the rest.

 Always Yours,

 Eliot

 Two Years Later

 “Oh, goddamn it!”

 Eliot turned from the weaving loom to regard Quentin, who was crumpling up what looked like his sixth piece of parchment in fifteen minutes, his cheeks flushed with emotion. Eliot locked the loom so the shirt he was making wouldn’t unravel and went over to his partner.

 “What is it, Q?”

 “I’m trying to write a letter to Arielle so we can—you know—tell her how we feel and everything? But I can’t get the words right. It either sounds too formal or like I’m offering something that’s inappropriate. I love her—I’ve told her that already, so why is it so hard to write this?”

 “Well let’s see.” Eliot dragged a chair over and produced a new piece of parchment. “Maybe I can help. After all, I want her to stay too. She’s good for you, Q,” Eliot had said as they sat down to write the letter together. “and didn’t our P.A. teacher say that the triangle is the strongest shape in nature?”

 “You and Margo always ditched P.A.”

 “Did we? Hmmph . . . I must have heard her say it while we were portaling our way out the back. “Let’s see . . .”

 The letter took over two hours to draft, and when it was finished, Eliot and Quentin left it in the empty wicker basket near the door, where Arielle always placed their fresh fruit. It read:

 Our Dearest Arielle,

 There are many things we’ve found to be special about this place, but you are the most unique by far. Your kindness, the way you always went out of your way to visit us, spoke volumes about your generous nature. Our fondness for you has, over the past few months, become something more, and we’d like to invite you to stay. We know from past experience that this kind of relationship is pretty common in Fillory, especially when it comes to a man having both a wife and a husband. While we consider ourselves married, we know that adding you to our family would only make it stronger and more complete.

 It's true that we never expected someone to come into our lives that would affect us like you have. But life, like magic, is unpredictable. You may be a part of the puzzle when it comes to the beauty of all life, or maybe you appeared because you hold a different kind of beauty, one that Quentin certainly doesn’t want to live without. We both believe you’re good for us in many ways, Arielle, and because we’ve learned that families in Fillory are created and not always bound by blood, your staying with us and becoming a part of our family makes sense.

 We hope you say yes.

 Affectionately Yours,

 Quentin and Eliot

Six years later

 They found the letter hidden in a folded, embroidered piece of cloth among Arielle’s things a few weeks after her death, when Quentin finally responded to Eliot’s pleas to leave their bed, where he’d been since Arielle and her stillborn daughter, Grace, were buried in the woods behind their cottage. Neither magic or medicine could stop the hemorrhaging once little Grace had come into the world, blue and silent, leaving Quentin, Eliot, and their four-year-old son, Rupert, bereft.

 “What do we do?” Quentin asked, fresh tears coursing down his cheeks as he held up the envelope with Rupert’s name on it. Sun poured through the cottage window and Eliot noticed a few glimmering strands of silver in his husband’s long, tawny hair. “He’s too little to read and maybe he won’t understand—he keeps asking me when his mom and the baby are coming back.” The last word hung itself on a sob and Eliot drew Quentin into his arms.

 “Shhh, Q. It’s all right. Shhh, my love.” He soothed, kissing Quentin’s forehead and temples before producing a cool, wet cloth in one hand. He used it to wipe Quentin’s face. “Hey . . . listen. Rupert is going to be fine. He’s a tough little man. Why don’t we read it to him? Hmm? I bet he’d like it.”

 “Y-Yeah,” Quentin sniffled. “It’s his, after all.”

 ***

They sat in the main room of the cottage, where the sun cast long fingers of light through the windows well into the late afternoon. Eliot made himself comfortable in the rocker while Quentin sat in his favorite chair with Rupert in his lap, the boy’s head on his shoulder. Quentin rubbed his back while Rupert sucked his thumb and listened to his Papa Eliot read.

 My Dearest Little Rupert,

 If your daddies found this letter, I hope they read it to you. You are my special little blossom, and I want you to know how much you are loved.

 You live in a world of infinite magic, little one, but if fate decides that I can’t be with you, there are a few things I want you to remember:

 Always listen to your daddies. They know what’s best for you and will always protect and love you

Be kind to nature. It will always return your kindness with bounty

Fall apples make for the best pies

Eliot passed the letter to Quentin, who cleared his throat and continued reading.

 Flowers and fruit blossoms want to be noticed and admired—always stop and do so

Nature has its own magic

Learn to weave from your Papa Eliot—it’s a talent you will use all your life

You will always be in my heart, my little blossom, no matter where I travel. I am a part of you, which means you never have to feel lonely. I am no further away than the beating of your own heart. Take care of your daddies—they’re a part of you, too.

 I Love You Forever,

 Mommy

 Quentin folded the letter with one hand and set it aside. Rupert raised his head from his father’s shoulder.

 “Daddy?”

 “Yeah Rupe?”

 “Can you teach me to read and write, so I can write mommy a letter back?”

 “Sure I can,” Quentin smiled and smoothed his son’s hair to one side. “But for now, I think it’s time I helped you wash up for supper.” He lifted Rupert up and carried him toward the little washroom they’d added a few years earlier, his free hand trailing along Eliot’s shoulder with affection. Eliot touched it in return and watched the light fade from the room as he recalled the words of the letter Quentin had written him so long ago.

 We’re here, and we care about each other, and that feels like it’s enough.

 Fin

[qhostqizmo]

“She is a beautiful woman.”

“Alarmingly, her heart is somehow even more beautiful then she is. You can see it when she smiles, that rare and reclusive charm of someone far wiser then the world is old. It takes my breath away. Through the window of her eyes alone, I’ve seen a compassionate soul of intelligence and kindness veiled beneath those dark lashes she tries to use to hide behind her mesmerizing golden eyes. It’s difficult to avoid peeking into them. I can’t explain what I see, but it fills me with hope, and a warmth I’ve never known.”

- - - - - - - - - - -

Her nobleman had only been gone a few minutes, but it already felt like an eternity. All she could envision every time her eyelids closed was the appalling images from events past. The cave in Beggar’s Hollow. The ferry ride across the lake towards the capital. Visions from other struggles come and gone and some not even real; merely illusions conjured out of fear.

Any of them gone too long from her sight twisted Essätha’s stomach. She worried for them all; her kindred allies in their mission to take down a cult and remove its head, but if one were to pick at her long enough, she would eventually relent, she grew most anxious when he wasn’t around at all. It was impossible to forget Amon’s tormented, lonely, stricken gaze or the pale-washed complexion of the man nearly dying in her arms, staining her clothes crimson.

A shudder involuntarily ran down her spine. The sorceress’ kept her eyes open until they burned, trying not to think on the dreadful, awful day. How helpless she felt, wanting to cradle him protectively in her arms and hold him; wrap him tight in his blankets and promise him it would be alright, and be able to keep that vow most of all.

Before the Yuan-Ti, the door was pulled open by a housemaid with a gracious dip of her head. A rather stout older man with a fiery beard and hair looked towards them as they entered; tearing his eyes from the housekeeper he was already speaking with. His eyes moved over them all; darting from one member of The Hand of Jubata to the next with a steadily growing smile and twinkle in his tawny eyes. It distracted Essie for the time being, to see someone so immediately enthused to see them.

“My word! Yes yes, come in, please, welcome!”

Ushering eagerly with his hands, the man encouraged them to step within the large room. A quick flicker of her gaze around, and Essätha realized this must be some sort of work space. There were bookshelves, and shelves with figurines. A war-table with models and banners was surrounded by two sofas and a single, throne-like chair near the middle of the room, and towards the back near the window was a desk. Not a cozy environment, but nothing screamed shady.

At last she looked back to the tall fellow, who Lord Amon seemed inclined to believe was a trustworthy associate. He had cherry colored cheeks from grinning so wide, and a pleasant aura about him. Again, nothing struck her as disturbed or unsettling; but from exposed practice, she kept her guard up anyway.

“It’s good to meet all of you,” the man animatedly announced, reaching out to grab the nearest person’s hand, which happened to be Penimra’s. “Welcome, welcome! I am Master Eliwru Figgenbeard, the pleasure is all mine!”

Grimacing, the warlock struggled to free his gloved hand. It began to slid down his arm instead, so he begrudgingly and limply allowed the handshake, his eyes narrowed behind the avian-shaped mask.

“It most certainly is.”

Cutting in, Abernathy practically shoved Pen aside; saving the uncomfortable looking high-elf to offer his large hand. “Greetings and well met!”

“Ah! You are…?”

“Abernathy Harding; and the fellow’s name here to my left whose hand you just shook is Penimra Korvis.”

“Yes yes, pleasure to you both!” the hearty man sang joyously. With a twist and a yank, he managed to free his hand fairly quickly from the elder paladin, to extend it to the younger.

“You must be…?”

“Sulhadur, sir.”

“Ah, a pleasure. And you’re the jeweler, the uh… pardon, your name escapes me…?”

“Adela; thank you for seeing us on such an unexpected visit.”

“Lovely to meet you as well, miss. And you?”

Accepting the man’s hand, Ravamora’s eyes darted from his, to the gleaming rings on his hands. “Ravamora Carnivale.”

Essätha watched, tensely, awaiting to be recognized. It was neither a relief or a curse for him to instead, be drawn to the shine reflecting off of their cleric’s carapace. For a brief moment though, it gave her more time to collect herself and straighten her posture.

Delighted, the husky man extended his chubby fingers towards the Thri-Kreen. “Me oh my, I know just who you are! You are Pri-… Pri….?”

“They call me Pri’cha Sunspot,” chirped the bug, wiggling their antenna joyfully as they accepted the hand. “My friends do call me Pri too, on occasion.”

“Curious. This is… incredible. You are quite incredible, Pri’cha; what an honor!”

Pri’ sheepishly dipped their head as the man vigorously shook their clawed appendage. Briefly, the entire clustered group watched the interactions with mixtures of surprise and ease.

Finally, Eliwru’s eyes landed on Essie’s as he retrieved his hand from the cleric. His lips parted into an open-mouth grin of awe, and he rushed forward at her; making her freeze anxiously. The man smelled heavily of ginger, for some odd reason, and this close she could feel the fanning of his breathlessness against her face.

“Essätha Meduza as she lives in the flesh!” The man boisterously grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I know exactly who you are!”

As if she wasn’t nervous enough, her legs felt wobbly and she offered a tense smile, barely holding to the man’s vice gripe.

“The letters did not lie; his description does you a great justice.”

“I…” she swallowed, forcing down the lump in her throat and the squeaky tone in her voice. “I’m sorry … Pardon? Letters?”

Puzzled, Eliwru knitted his brow. His grip relaxed. His tone still warm, he responded: “The posts I received from Master Illiad. Amon stated Essätha; that you, were a very fine, beautiful woman; with a breathtaking smile to match and mesmerizing golden eyes.”

Promptly, her features grew flush and rosy. She gaped at the man, hardly hearing the quiet snickers from her friends. They were sharing glances; most of them knowing, and impish little goblin grins.

Eyes widening, the man quickly picked up on her distress. He released her limp hand, gaping at her like a fish out of water.

“I- I-”

The door opened once more, an older woman stepping promptly towards their throng. Whatever she said next, Essätha did not hear. Her head was throbbing, and thankfully Abernathy seemed to perk up and immediately take charge of the conversation.

Still staring at her, conflicted, Eliwru wheezed. His tongue darted over his lips, looking as though he was trying to pay attention to the lady speaking to Essie’s backside, but he kept returning his gaze to her.

She was like a statue, frozen by pure shock. Everyone else had already, and thankfully, forgotten her for the woman and the news she brought, but Essätha could not get the man’s words out of her head.

Her Amon had called her what?

“Miss Meduza, I apologize,” the burly man whined, fidgeting. “I hadn’t meant to cause you harm. The letters you see, I- I thought-” he swallowed, “I t-thought you knew what he was writing it- it all seemed rather intimate I thought you two w-were-”

He thought they were what?

Eliwru never finished; a high-pitched keening sound like a deflating balloon expelling from his lungs slowly. He was positively red as the hair upon his head as he stepped away from her. With hands behind his back, he dipped his head respectively towards the door.

“Master I-Illiad how nice to s-see you again-!”

As though shaken awake, Essätha blinked rapidly and turned to face the threshold this time.

It was indeed the Briarton Protector; wearing a dull and uninterested neutral gray-tone today. His collar appeared a big tight, which added a rigid and dignified appearance to his posture as he glided in the room. The depths of the nobleman’s locks were somewhat mused, as though he’d ran a hand through his hair recently. His dark eyes skipped from the woman who had been speaking over to Eliwru as he was greeted.

Essie took it all in; but as she saw was perfection. It made her knees weak.

“Master Figgenbeard,” Amon greeted politely, accepting the man’s hand as he squeezed through the others. The man commented something quietly, and clipped, before quickly adverting all of his attention and conversation to the adjacent woman who had come with information.

Thoroughly perplexed, Amon looked after him a moment at the suddenness of the greeting, and quick dismissal. His regard swept the crowd, landing last on her.

He smiled, and Essätha’s heartrate dashed wildly.

What else were in those letters? What in the God’s creation had given him any impression? What impression?

Amon murmured his apology and quietly slid by the respectable crowd. He took a stand at the back, right beside Essie, as she stiffly wrung her hands. He leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered, “Sorry I’m late.”

She nodded, finding herself lacking the bravery to look directly at him. “That’s alright. I’m glad to see you whole, and safe.”

A brief silence. From her peripherals, she could see him reach for her hand. A small part of her wanted to recoil; edgy and weary, but she did not. His rough hand gently took hold of hers, holding her with care. Again, her heart fluttered.

“Everything alright, Essie?”

Nodding once more, she glanced up at him. Oh Jubata he had such welcoming stunning eyes; kind and considerate.

“Yes, m’lord Amon. I was just thinking of you; concerned for your safety and well-being.”

She was suddenly and acutely aware of the way Eliwru glanced at her as she refereed to her nobleman by his retracted title. Even more then his glance, she was more aware of the softening in Amon’s features; the way his eyes closed a fraction and how his smile grew softer. Everything about the way he appeared now was something normal to her; his vulnerable features, the admiration in his gaze, but under the eyes of another came to her awareness equally how unnatural his appearance was.

Lord Amon Thomas Illiad was openly fawning over her.

“You don’t need to worry yourself over me, Essie.”

“But I do. I will anyway.”

Her words were louder then his whispers; almost blurted out, and part of her party distractedly looked over at her.

Timidly, her eyes wandered until they all stopped staring upon her and her deep maroon blush.

Trying to hide his raspy laughter, Lord Amon squeezed her hand with reassurance. “I’m fine,” he mouthed, “We’ll talk after this?”

Remaining mute and happy for it, Essie bobbed her head in answer.

Again with the bright smile, and he turned his attention back towards the lady droning on.

Exhaling a ragged breath, she turned her gaze back towards the woman as well, first catching their host’s wandering eye before he turned away, beet red. He fumbled with his hands, like he had been caught spilling some incredibly illusive secret.

Her complexion still tinted scarlet, her eyes flickered from her nobleman, back towards Eliwru.

As curious as she was to know what he had intended on saying; and humiliated by the situation, above all she was glad to simply have Amon back by her side. That was the best, most secure, most uplifting feeling of all.