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n3vee · 4 months ago

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Hidden secrets 1/4

SOOO I WANTED TO MAKE A VAMPIRE OLIVIA X FEM READER MINI STORY THERE WILL BE FOUR PARTS SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

I watched you from across the café, the familiar pang of hunger gnawing at me. It wasn’t just the kind of hunger that could be sated with food—it was deeper, darker. You were laughing with some friends, your smile lighting up the room. The sight of you filled me with both warmth and a desperate longing.

I couldn’t help but notice the way the light caught the pulse in your neck, the rhythm of your heartbeat drawing me in. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to rush over and take you in my arms, to taste the sweetness of your blood. I shook my head, trying to clear the thought. I couldn’t let myself go there.

You finally noticed me, your eyes lighting up as you waved me over. I took a deep breath, pushing down my darker urges, and made my way to your table.

“Hey, Olivia!” you greeted, your smile contagious. “We were just talking about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” I replied, sliding into the seat next to you. The proximity made it harder to ignore the scent of your blood, but I forced myself to focus on your words instead.

“Always,” you said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. The simple gesture sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of pleasure and torment.

The evening went by in a blur of laughter and conversation, but the whole time I was acutely aware of my need to be careful. Every touch, every brush of your hand against mine was a test of my control. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down, not even for a second.

As the night drew to a close, you turned to me with that sweet smile that melted my heart. “Walk me home?”

“Of course,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. I stood up, offering you my hand. You took it, your warmth seeping into me and anchoring me to the present.

We walked in comfortable silence, the cool night air helping to clear my head. I kept a firm grip on your hand, both for your safety and my own sanity.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said as we reached your doorstep. “I had a great time.”

“Me too,” I replied, meaning it despite the struggle. “Sleep well, okay?”

You nodded, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Goodnight, Olivia.”

“Goodnight,” I whispered, watching you go inside. As soon as the door closed, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I needed to feed soon, but not from you. Never from you.

The following days were a blur of stolen moments and quiet whispers. Each day spent with you was a test of my resolve, and I knew it was only a matter of time before something gave. I tried to feed regularly, keeping my cravings in check, but nothing compared to the allure of your blood.

One evening, we were at your place, sprawled out on the couch watching a movie. Your head was resting on my shoulder, and I could feel the steady thrum of your pulse. It was driving me insane.

“Olivia, you okay?” you asked, noticing my distraction.

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just tired.”

You reached up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You’ve seemed a little off lately. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. “Everything’s fine. Just a lot on my mind.”

You gave me a concerned look but didn’t press further. Instead, you snuggled closer, your warmth and scent wrapping around me like a cocoon. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything but the craving.

The movie ended, and you stretched, your shirt riding up just enough to expose a sliver of skin. My eyes locked onto it, and I had to look away before the hunger took over.

“I should get going,” I said abruptly, standing up. “It’s getting late.”

You looked a bit surprised but nodded. “Okay. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, definitely,” I replied, giving you a quick, almost desperate kiss. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Olivia,” you said, still looking a bit confused. I hated leaving you like that, but I couldn’t risk losing control.

Days passed, and the strain was starting to show. I was more irritable, more distant, and you noticed. I could see the worry in your eyes, the unspoken questions hanging between us. I hated it, but I didn’t know how to make it better without putting you at risk.

One night, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed to feed, and I needed it now. I slipped out into the night, finding a secluded alley where I could hunt without being seen. The blood of a random stranger would have to do.

The hunt was quick, efficient. The blood was warm and satisfying, but it wasn’t enough. It never was. I wiped my mouth, disgusted with myself, and made my way back to your place. I needed to see you, to remind myself why I was doing this.

You opened the door, surprised to see me. “Olivia? It’s late. Is everything okay?”

I nodded, pulling you into a tight embrace. “I just needed to see you.”

You hugged me back, your warmth seeping into my cold skin. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” I whispered, my voice breaking. The hunger was still there, lurking beneath the surface, but for now, I could push it aside.

We went inside, and you made us some tea. As we sat together on the couch, the weight of my secret felt heavier than ever. I needed to tell you, but I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

“Olivia,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. I’m here for you.”

I looked into your eyes, seeing the love and concern there. It was now or never. “There’s something you need to know.”

You reached for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “What is it?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable. “I’m a vampire.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Your grip on my hand tightened, your eyes wide with shock. “A vampire? Olivia, that can’t be real.”

“It is,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’ve been hiding it from you because I didn’t want to scare you. But I can’t keep lying to you.”

You pulled your hand away, standing up and pacing the room. “This is crazy. How… how is that even possible?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, tears welling up in my eyes. “I was turned a long time ago, and I’ve been trying to live a normal life ever since. But being with you has made it harder to control my urges.”

You stopped pacing, looking at me with a mix of fear and something else—something I couldn’t quite place. “Your urges? You mean… to drink blood?”

I nodded, feeling ashamed. “Yes. And it’s been getting harder to resist. That’s why I’ve been distant. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

You were silent for a long moment, processing everything. Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “Have you ever… wanted to drink my blood?”

I looked away, unable to meet your gaze. “Yes. But I would never do it. I love you too much to hurt you.”

You walked over to me, kneeling down and taking my hands in yours. “I love you too, Olivia. But this is a lot to take in.”

“I know,” I said, my voice breaking. “And if you need time, I understand. I’ll give you all the space you need.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “I don’t want space. I want to figure this out together. But you have to promise me something.”

“Anything,” I said, desperate to make things right.

“Promise me you’ll be honest with me from now on,” you said, your eyes searching mine. “No more secrets.”

“I promise,” I said, pulling you into a tight embrace. “No more secrets.”

We held each other for what felt like an eternity, the weight of my confession hanging between us. But as we sat there, wrapped in each other’s arms, I felt a glimmer of hope. We could get through this. Together.

Over the next few weeks, we worked to find a balance. I fed regularly from willing donors, keeping my urges in check. You learned more about my world, your fascination tempered by a healthy respect for the dangers it posed.

There were still moments of temptation, times when your scent and warmth made it hard to resist. But each time, I reminded myself of my promise, of the love we shared. And slowly, we found a new normal.

One evening, we were walking through the park, the moon casting a silver glow over everything. You looked so peaceful, your hand in mine, and for the first time in a while, I felt like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

But as we turned a corner, a figure stepped out of the shadows. My heart sank as I recognized the vampire who had turned me, his eyes glinting with malicious intent.

“Olivia,” he sneered. “I’ve missed you.”

You tightened your grip on my hand, sensing the danger. “Who is that?”

“Run,” I whispered urgently, pushing you away. “Get out of here, now!"

The vampire lunged, his speed blurring as he came toward her. I pushed her away, my instincts kicking in.

"Run!" I screamed, my voice filled with a desperation I hadn't felt in years.

She stumbled back, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. I didn't have time to see if she obeyed; my focus was entirely on the predator in front of me.

He was fast, but I was ready. I met him head-on, our bodies colliding with a force that sent shockwaves through the park. The impact pushed him back, and I took the opportunity to position myself between her and him.

"Stay away from her!" I snarled, baring my fangs.

He laughed, a dark, chilling sound. "You've grown weak, Olivia. Human love has made you soft."

His words stung, but I couldn't let them distract me. He lunged again, and this time I was ready, sidestepping and delivering a hard kick to his side. He grunted, more annoyed than hurt, and turned to face me again.

"You're protecting a human? How pathetic," he spat.

"I love her," I said, my voice steady despite the fear gnawing at me. "And I won't let you hurt her."

He sneered, baring his fangs. "Then I'll just have to go through you."

Our fight was brutal. Every punch, every kick, every slash of claws was a test of my endurance and strength. He was older, stronger, but I had something he didn't: a reason to fight.

Despite my resolve, he was gaining the upper hand. His blows were relentless, and I could feel my strength waning. I risked a glance back and saw her standing there, frozen in fear.

"Run!" I yelled again, but she was rooted to the spot, eyes wide with terror.

He took advantage of my distraction, delivering a blow that sent me crashing to the ground. Pain radiated through my body, but I forced myself to stand, to keep fighting. I couldn't let him reach her.

With a growl, he lunged at her. Summoning every ounce of strength I had left, I threw myself in his path. His claws raked across my side, the pain blinding. I screamed, but I didn't let go. I tackled him to the ground, using my body to shield her.

"Olivia!" she screamed, her voice filled with panic.

I could feel the blood pouring from my wounds, my vision starting to blur. But I couldn't give up. Not yet. I grabbed his head, twisting with all my might. There was a sickening crack, and he went limp beneath me.

Panting, I pushed his body away and tried to stand. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground. She was at my side in an instant, her hands frantic as she tried to stop the bleeding.

"Olivia, please, stay with me," she begged, tears streaming down her face.

I reached up, my hand trembling, and cupped her cheek. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I had to protect you."

"You did," she said, her voice breaking. "But you can't leave me. Not like this."

Darkness was creeping in at the edges of my vision, but I forced myself to stay conscious. "I love you," I managed to say, my voice weak.

"I love you too," she sobbed, holding me close. "Please, Olivia, stay with me. We can get through this. Together."

I wanted to believe her, to hold on to that hope. But the pain was overwhelming, and I could feel my strength slipping away. As the darkness closed in, I clung to the sound of her voice, the feel of her arms around me.

"Promise me," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Promise me you'll be safe."

"I promise," she said, her voice firm despite the tears. "Just hold on, Olivia. Help is coming. Just hold on."

But as the world faded to black, I wasn't sure if I could. The pain was too much, and the darkness too inviting. I wanted to keep my promise to her, to stay with her, but my body was failing me.

As my vision dimmed completely, I felt her grip on me tighten. "No, Olivia, please," she sobbed. "Don't leave me."

The last thing I heard was the sound of her crying, the desperation in her voice tearing at my heart. I had protected her, but at what cost? The darkness swallowed me, and I was left with the haunting sound of her cries echoing in my mind.

The night was eerily silent as she sat there, cradling my limp body. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the blood on her hands. She looked around, hoping for someone, anyone, to come and help. But the park was empty, and she was alone with her grief.

A soft breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the faintest scent of blood. She shivered, clutching me tighter. "Please, Olivia," she whispered, her voice broken. "Please come back."

But there was no response, only the haunting silence of the night.

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rogueprincedaemontarg · 4 months ago

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Don't Blame Me, Love Made Me Crazy

(Closed starter for @black-queen-rising)

Daemon had only felt the kind of fear he had when Rhaenyra fell unconscious one other time in his life; in the long hours when all he could do was watch as Laena died after delivering their stillborn son. In the initial panic, he had quickly taken charge, locking down the Red Keep until he was certain their new Queen would not die. His wife hadn't had the chance to appoint a Hand yet, but he'd been the Master of Wars nearly as long as Rhaenyra had been Hand, and poisoning the Queen was absolutely an act of war. He spent the first few hours interrogating any and everyone who could have possibly had a hand in the attempt to kill his wife; it didn't get him very far, but terrifying the usually-simpering nobles did always make him feel better. He doesn't sleep that night, staying awake at Rhaenyra's bedside, and holding her hand as if he could will some of his own life force back into her. The Maesters said she was lucky to be alive, the poison had certainly been meant to kill, but had failed to do so after only a couple of drops managed to pass her lips.

The following morning Daemon left the bedchamber reluctantly in order to help manage what he could of The Court. He went to check on his children first, finding Rhaena and...Aemond? Dozing after spending the night watching the youngest ones. He had no idea what Prince Eyepatch was doing helping his daughter when he was no longer under orders to assist in her duties as punishment. With much more pressing matters at hand, however, he tucked the knowledge into a corner near the back of his mind and made note to keep an them going forward for Rhaena's safety...and sanity, though, at least in that moment, she didn't seem to mind the boy's presence. He found Baela and Jace next, taking comfort in one another's presence as Baela did whatever she could to assist Jace's efforts in taking up command of the Castle and Kingdom in his role as Crown Prince. Daemon filled the rest of his morning taking report from the head and deputy of the Gold Cloaks on possible suspects, though they had not gotten any further than The Rogue Prince himself had managed the night before.

Later that afternoon, Maester Gerardys' lead assistant came to inform him his wife was awake but Daemon doesn't even hear the rest of the man's words before he's darted off towards their rooms once more. As he walked through the door he heard Rhaenyra arguing that she had to get dressed and start tend to responsibilities the Queen herself was fit to oversee, he couldn't help but smile alongside a small shake of his head, at least it seemed her personality was perfectly intact. The relief on her face when she sees him is immediate and he could feel his own expression shift to mirror hers. He toes off his boots, and immediately climbs into bed with her, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her against his chest without a moment's hesitation. He didn't care that there were other people in the room, he needed to hold her, needed to feel her heart beating against him, everyone else was irrelevant.

Rhaenyra looked up at him with a smile and he returned it before pressing a kiss to her forehead, "Please don't scare me like that again, I don't think I could ever handle losing you." He admitted, his throat tight with emotion, "Our son has done a wonderful job holding things together in your stead, you would be so proud of him. It's only furthered my belief he truly is the best of all of us." Daemon added in an attempt to redirect the conversation, then lets her speak, before inquiring further, "Did you dream at all last night?" Their family was famous for its Dragon Dreams, he had never had one, but his brother had at least claimed to many a time, and he couldn't help but wonder if in all this chaos, something had been drawn from the corners of Rhaenyra's own mind.

#asoiaf #daemyra #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra and daemon #rp #rp blog #asongofgoldenfireandblackblood #asongofgf&bb #asongofgf&bbthreads #threads

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stonedlilac · 8 days ago

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Hasnt been too long since I sent my last anon now so how about I expand on that lil halloween fantasy of yours.

Id like to think I'd be able to break you down bit by bit with time. Yeah you're a tough one crack but a toy who doesn't cry isnt so much of a toy at all. So I have no complaints.

Considering how much I've drained you out from making you cry and heave, hurting you just enough for me to finish and for you to be marked up so I can see the receipts of my playtime- I think I'll be generous for once. I'll patch you up. Only to later break you apart like a vulture again right when you've healed enough.

You'd be on the brink of sanity too considering you're covered in filth ever since that day you fell into my hands locked away in a stranger's basement. The smell of blood sweat and cum making you want to constantly disassociate, dreaming for a clean shower, the safety of your cotton sheets and the smell clean linen. So now, here you are motionless as I wash your body like a lamb. You don't know what i would do next, you don't care enough to know whats next. You've lost hope. And I see it. I'll press a gentle kiss to your temple having loved what I've made of you. Almost like a proud art piece I cherished. You're eyes trail down your own body finding my fingers gently dancing at your sweet cunt inching closer to your clit. You have no such reaction apart from the subtle twitches from me massaging your soaked clit. Taking my time with you in the tub while I mindlessly play with your pussy.

You're such a good girl

Perhaps I'll name you.

Any suggestions pretty girl?

The moment your soft clit twitches and you start to hear small cries is when I stop. I'll press another kiss to the side of your temple.

Hands and knees, now..

I'll whisper and you'll oblige. Obediently shifting your weight to your hands and knees like a precious lap dog, you're more conscious about the water level now. You're confused but you know what's coming up and crying wasn't an option. You feel me join you into the tub settling behind you. Kneading the soft plush of your ass as you churn, feeling the water lazily slosh against the walls of the tub soft enough to put you to sleep. But you couldn't sleep now, that's the last thing you could think of. You feel me gently glide my fingers over your soaked cunt while my other hand wraps itself in your hair,

those red locks of yours are quite pretty darlin

Deep breath now

I gently lather whatever wetness you have at your pussy before I push your head into the water, your upper body drowning at an angle you couldn't hold up. Panic rushes through your veins as you cry out in strangled and gargled sobs, the water in the tub no longer calm and peaceful having lost its soft lull.

But that's when you'll feel the next suprise torment of my fingers attacking your sensitive pussy, continuing to play with your soaked folds. You'll rut, scream, bang at the sides of the tub but until i feel you pulsing on my fingers or seeing your unconscious body floating I won't stop. I can hear your guttural cries, your brain panicking with fear and overstimulation and it makes me so happy. You're doing such a good job for me being so malleable and pliant. I'd stretch you out of my fingers, scissoring them while you're sloshing water in a frenzy, the shear discomfort making you swallow and snort amounts of water accidentally. Your choked up cries echoing the bathroom walls. None of that stops me though. You'd already know that. I'll slowly add more fingers until I feel your body violently refusing to be stretched out anymore, almost fisting you mercilessly.

The moment I feel your movements slow down on the brink of life I'll lift you up from your scalp. I know it burns, but I just need to hear your panicked cries that blend so well with your moans and whimpers while I keep pounding my fingers into your gummy walls. Curling my digits right where you hate it yet so desperatly need it. Your eyes rolling back to your skull as you feel your arms and knees give up.

Feeling your stretched out cunt eventually tighten around my digits make me smile.

Have you always been this depraved or did I just get lucky

Your body going slack from it all as I drop you to the water letting go of your hair. I chuckle seeing you sob and convulse in the water mentally gushing over how lucky I got to have a depraved little pet like you.

I'll get you your well earned clean clothes for the first time ever since I tore and got rid of all your clothes that fateful night, helping you stepping out of the tub and helping you into your linen clothes. The scent of freshly washed laundry never felt so good. The feeling of wearing clothes never felt so comforting. Like a luxury you never thought of. Something you took for granted all your life.

Good girl you're being so good for me today.

Maybe you could thank me. I'll have you brought to a different room. A room that has a well cushioned bed unlike the creaky filthy holding cell bed I had you in. Guiding you to the edge of the bed making you get on it and lie there with your head hanging off the corner. I'd discard my pants, unzipping them along with my boxers while I hover over you.

It feels humiliating doesn't it darling?

I notice your hesitation, partially in discomfort and partially in exhaustion.

A sharp blade to your throat it what jerks you wide awake.

I know you're tired sweetheart but I think I deserve a little thank you for what I've given you today so unless you want this box cutter severing your wind pipe I'd suggest you put that mouth to good use.

I press the blade a little too deep to draw blood- you panic as you desperately start lapping at my cunt, my juices making your lips and nose glisten oh so adorably. I'm beyond pleased with you but every time you falter out of tire the blade goes just a bit deeper with every chance allowed. Your sobs and tears mixing well with it all, it doesn't take me too long to come all over your pretty face. After all- you just cry so perfectly.

Fucking your face, getting off to your tongue becomes a staple. Adding more depraved additions along the way to keep you paranoid as always. Never letting you fully rest but allowing a tinge of comfort, just barely enough for you to not burst into tears every moment you see me. A routine with every little basic need granted. You'll have to earn back every thing you had to deem yourself a person. From clothes to food on a plate and not bare scraps on the floor, all of it, I'll make it my personal interest to build you up to tear you down. I won't say when or why but I will.

One mistake and I strip you away of everything you've worked your ass off to achieve. Sure you can be a ungrateful brat if you want to, be my guest actually, not like it matters any less to me but back to the filthy holding cell you'll go.

Right where you started.

-🎃<3

Looking forward for your writing too sweetheart

Well hello there, welcome back, sadist.♡

Be patient, things like this take time, hmm? Do you have enough time for me?🥺

How kind of you, tending to my wounds and prior humiliation. But oh how it confuses my little mind. You being gentle and kind? It's been what feels like forever since someone has treated me that way...

Oh darling, don't you know to be nice to your toys? Hmm? Breaking your toys means you won't have them for long. Tsk, tsk. It's almost as if you've never done this before. But I'd certainly be reminded of that when you'd drag me down to your basement. You still haven't opened that door, but the ghastly sight of its condition makes me freeze in fear. You have me under lock and key for now, I suppose. My spirit damaged and shattered, no gasoline, not even a small spark to relight the fire within me. The fight. I wonder if you'll get bored of me, like you did the others.

You gently lead me to the tub, and I cautiously sink my feet into the water, it's warm... it's actually warm. You begin to wet my body and my hair, paying attention to small details, making me feel like I'm worth it. I begin to relax, letting out a small sigh, glancing at you from time to time as you tenderly tend to my marked and disheveled body.

Your fingers trail inbetween my cunt, spreading my soaked juices to my clit. I flinch and whimper against you. Moaning has become a sound I can't exhert when you first touch me. I freeze like a doe, memories of that evening flooding back. Of when you first took me.

The water sloshes as I flinch and clench my fists, your fingers slowly making circles, teasing me, wiring my brain to enjoy this. Confused sounds leave my throat as I try to correlate loving touches with your face. I finally let out a small moan and I see you smile, placing a kiss on my cheek.

My mind is racing with thought, more confused than I've ever felt since I've been here. You're praising me, even offering to give me a name. You're peering at me now, you don't like to be kept waiting. But I can't seem to calm the swarm of thoughts consuming me. If you're choosing to name me, does that mean you're going to keep me? Does that mean you like me? Am I safer than I think? An answer finally manages to escape my lips.

I-I don't know, I squeak. You chuckle softly, shaking your head.

You've never given me an option, never let me choose. And the stimulation combined with the caring nature is all to much.

Your breath, hot and invasive penetrates my ear as you order me quietly to get on my knees. I shift my weight, gingerly sinking, my eyes glazing over in torment and fear. Flinching at the dark bruises on my knees as they unforgivingly press against the bottom of the tub. I force myself to straighten out, placing my hands behind my back, exactly how you like me. I don't look at you, not yet. Not until you give me permission. I'm not allowed to look at you during play, I'll be good. I've learned it's easier to just be good.

Please- I've been so good-- I spit out, hoping you'll show some amount of mercy. I usually don't beg like this, it just makes things worse for me. But I'm so tired, my body broken and battered, I'm not my usual self. Please, I softly whimper.

That's when I feel your weight shift as you climb in behind me. I noticeably flinch as your body brushes against mine. You sink behind me possessively. You've never actually gotten in the water with me, I scooch forward subtly, but you grab my waist and roughly pull me into you. Your fingers working my clit as you slowly grab my hair between your fist, seething into my ear.

Nn-no PLEASE, I take in a deep inhale preparing myself for what's next, your other hand still violating my clit. I feel my face plunge into the water and fear overwhelms me like I'm drowning in an endless wave. The shocks and pulses from your fingers abusing my clit only leave my mind more fuzzy. I cough and spit involuntarily, small bubbles floating to the surface. Your grip tightens as you feel me start to jerk, my fists slamming against the bottom and sides of the tub.

Drowned and muffled screams exit my lips as I feel your fingers slam over and over into my cunt. I try to pick my head up but you hold it firmly in place, shifting all your weight into your arms. My eyes open wide, stinging from the waves of water rushing into them. The unclear image of the bottom of the tub starts to get fuzzier and fuzzier. I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die. The thought races through my mind as I feel more fingers slam into me, until eventually your whole fist slams in and out of my cunt. I'm close to passing out, a sweet euphoric and comforting bliss taking over my mind. That means this ends, I can be free. I can finally be free. I involuntarily cum at the thought of it finally being over, my mind fuzzy and weakened, arching and backing against you. Oh if only you knew that's why I came. You surely would kill me then.

Suddenly, you yank me up by my hair, bringing me all the way to my feet. Water drips from my chin as I cough and sputter, being held up only by your firm grip. Spit mixed with gulps of water, I weakly try to catch my breath. I scream against you as your fingers mix with my cum driving me over the edge. My body goes limp, like a ragdoll, a broken little toy. I feel like a puppet, waiting for their master to tug at their strings. My knees collide with the floor of the tub and a cry escapes, feeling the pain wash over my thighs from the impact.

You degrade me and I don't look at you, soft and quiet tears rolling down my cheeks. You start to coo at me, telling me how pretty I look ruined and crying for you. Caressing my body gently, sadistically pressing on my past bruises to make me flinch. Gathering me up like I weigh nothing and making your way down the hall.

The clean and soft fabric brushing against my skin makes me think of home. When I used to be able to take care of myself freely, make decisions. I don't let you know this though, I'm not supposed to think of home anymore. It smells so good, like a scented embrace, so calm and comforting. But it only manages to bring me a sense of uncertainty. The good things never last too long here so it's hard to be thankful for them. But I also don't let you know this, I play a part in your game in hopes of one day manipulating you into freeing me. See, I'm such a loyal pet that I'd always come back, right? You can let me off leash, you can trust me.

You lay me down gently on the mattress, the soft folds caressing me, it feels like a luxury I had forgetten existed. I listen, flopping my head over the edge, peering at you in doubt. I'm so, so worn and this bed is providing an amount of comfort I hadn't felt in a long, long time. My throat is met with cold steel and I feel my body tense. You seethe threats at me, pressing the blade carefully into my neck, making me wince. Letting me know you're serious and I'm still disposable. I quickly begin to lap at you, working my tongue around your clit, flicking it and sucking it. You moan, sinking yourself deeper into me until I have a hard time getting in any air. Whenever I get too exhausted or slow down, the sharp sting brings me back. I feel warmth start to trail down my neck which brings tears to my eyes. I'm scared and panting beneath you now as I try my best to please you to your standards.

I'm such a broken girl now, going day by day in hopes of pleasing you. Becoming worthy enough of you. I'm starting to think I might actually need you. I might actually be too silly to operate the big, bad world alone. Of course, your added degration and pliable methods keep me at bay. Centered and well focused on keeping you happy. I don't need anything else, after all.

And I don't want to go back to being less than human, that thought alone rips at me- torturing me and instilling a fear in me that your hands alone could never achieve.

I have to be good.

#lesbian #lesbian nsft #sapphic nsft #wlw nsft #sapphic #wlw #cnc lesbian #nsft lesbian #nebbyanswers #🎃

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cadmium-bear · 2 years ago

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Close Call

A fanfic based on the comic I posted. Weems is alive here because let’s face it, none of the faculty is willing to keep Wednesday in check. Also shoutout to @savorytheories and @dominustenbbriss

It was late night and way past Nevermore curfew. That never mattered to Wednesday. In fact she preferred late hours so she can break into places. Nothing like the feeling of constantly keeping your guard up to stay incognito while you do criminal activities. She needed to retrieve information from a guarded archive in city hall. Simple enough. She could do it with her eyes closed but her roommate had other plans.

Enid is a law abiding citizen who never thought she would break any rules. Then she met Wednesday. She didn’t have to accompany her as Wednesday said. But she insisted that she join her if not for Wednesday’s safety at least for her own sanity.

So there they were in the restricted access archives room in city hall. Enid didn’t know what to look for so she kept watch while Wednesday was rummaging through file cabinets with gloved hands.

“Wednesday, are you done yet? Keeping my senses consciously heightened is not a good feeling.” Enid complained.

“On the contrary, I find the thrill exhilarating.” Wednesday deadpanned while taking pictures of a document in a folder. “Anyway, we’re done here. Let’s go.”

When they infiltrated the building they didn’t know where exactly they needed to go so Wednesday had to pick lock a door to get in. Now that they were escaping, the window is just as fine an exit. She opened the window and assessed possible ways to get down. There wasn’t a near pipe to climb down on. She could hang from the ledge and risk a fall. It was only the second floor.

Without consulting Wednesday, Enid heads out first and just jumps out. “Enid!”

The werewolf rolls upon landing on the grass below and escapes unscathed. She dusts off dirt from her clothes and looks back up at Wednesday. She raises her arms out readying herself to catch the shorter girl. “You can jump. I’ll catch you!” She whisper yelled.

It didn’t occur to Wednesday that it meant Enid would touch her. It’s not like there were other options though. She trusted Enid and jumped into her arms. Enid catches her easily. She grins at Wednesday as if telling her “See? I caught you.” Wednesday only rolls her eyes.

“Someone broke in!” The girls heard a man from the archives room. “Over there! They’re already escaping!”

Wednesday got down and dragged Enid as they ran away from security. It was dark enough that Wednesday was sure the guards won’t be able to identify them but Enid was too colorful to remain anonymous.

“This way, Enid!” Wednesday pulled her along to an alley. They stopped running and Wednesday immediately removed her oversized jacket to put it over Enid’s shoulders. “Wear this. Then kiss me.”

“What?!” Enid exclaimed in disbelief.

She didn’t have time to process things as Wednesday put up the hood of her jacket to cover Enid’s colorful hair and pulled her by the collar to press their lips forcefully.

Enid was in shock, understandably. THE Wednesday Addams was kissing her. She didn’t let anybody come near her personal space and yet here she was pulling a pastel cladded girl closer to her until their bodies touch against each other. Enid didn’t know when she started to lean into it. She had one arm against the wall trapping the goth and the other hand on her waist keeping her close. Wednesday’s own hand was behind Enid’s neck keeping the hoodie on the taller girl to hide their identities. Her other hand wandered from Enid’s shoulder to her chest just above her breast. Not touching anywhere inappropriate but enough to make Enid’s breath hitched.

They were impossibly close. Wednesday should be feeling cold without her jacket but Enid’s warm body against her own while they make out was more than enough to keep her comfortably warm. Wednesday heard running footsteps. One stopped to glance at them but quickly turned away and continued searching. She heard him scoffed “teenagers” before leaving.

Wednesday dared take a peek to make sure they were in the clear. She sighed in relief which caused their mouths to disconnect. Enid, having forgotten why they faked out made out in the first place, continued kissing her roommate’s cheek down to her neck. Wednesday was sure her half dead skin was flushed. “Enid…” she meant to get her attention but the way she said her name sounded like a moan. If she was being honest, she didn’t want to stop. She didn’t even realize that she had wrapped her arms behind the taller girl as if encouraging her to continue.

“Miss Addams, Miss Sinclair.”

The sound of the familiar authoritative voice pulled the pair back to reality. They stepped too far away from each other. Enid hurriedly returns Wednesday’s jacket before turning to the tall figure. Principal Weems looked amused with a raised eyebrow. “Care to explain why you two are engaging in frivolous activity past curfew when it’s something you can do in the privacy of your shared dorm room?”

Enid tried to say something but nothing came out of her mouth. She was feeling too many emotions to form a coherent thought. She was obviously embarrassed and flustered. She glanced at her roommate who somehow looked as stoic as she always did.

“I desired the excitement of the possibility of getting caught while being consumed by my paramour’s passion brought about by teenage hormones.”

If Enid’s cheeks were blushing pink before, her whole face and neck are as red as a tomato now. Did she have to say it like that? Weems chuckled at Wednesday’s explanation. She truly is an Addams, she thought.

“I’ve seen more than what I would like regarding an Addams’ passion.” Weems said with knotted brows. “At least, unlike your parents, you had the decency to hide in an alley and not do it somewhere open like the school quad.”

Wednesday takes a deep breath, not wanting to imagine how her parents behaved when they were her age. Enid’s face is still red but from the thought of Wednesday possibly doing that to her.

“Anyway, that’s enough of that. We’ll return to the dorms and you may continue there.” Weems said as she turned around to lead the way. “And do please keep your hands to yourselves until you close your door, hm?”

Enid, still flustered, plays with her hands nervously in front of her, refusing to look at the girl beside her. Wednesday shoves her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Despite everything, Enid steals a peek at the goth and sees a faint tint of pink on her cheeks. She blushes harder.

On the way back to Ophelia Hall, Principal Weems told more anecdotes about Gomez and Morticia. Wednesday and Enid couldn’t retort and only made sounds that let Weems know they were cringing. Weems could’ve punished them accordingly but she found embarrassing them more effective and entertaining.

Apparently, the principal had one last thing to say before letting the girls go. “Eventually, the PDA ban was lifted before I even became in charge here. I trust that you two won’t be the reason I have to reinstate it.”

“Yep. You got it, Principal Weems. We’ll only do it in our room. Not it- like- it. But just light stuff- i mean- wait-“ Enid started rambling and just making things more embarrassing for themselves. Wednesday needed to intervene before they literally die of embarrassment.

“Terrible night, Principal Weems.” Wednesday greeted before shutting the door.

There were several moments of awkward silence. Neither moved or said anything to break it. Enid didn’t enjoy the silence as much as she didn’t enjoy the embarrassment of the last half hour. “I’m glad we got to do what we were supposed to do in the first place. But it created several misunderstandings.”

“At least, it’s a solid alibi.” Wednesday finally turns to face her roommate.

Enid found herself staring at Wednesday. Her lips were so soft. She could smell Wednesday’s distinct scent from her neck. Oh how she wanted to suck and nip at it. It was all so tempting. Wednesday noticed the way the werewolf was staring. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t thinking about the same thing. It hasn’t been long but she missed the warmth of her lips. Wednesday made the bold move of stepping closer which caused Enid to snap out of her stare. They were close enough to breathe each other’s air.

“What are you doing?” Enid asked.

“Continuing where we left off.” Wednesday responded plainly. “You said we’ll only do it in our room.”

Enid gulped. She could refuse or brush it off but she couldn’t find the strength. How could she when she’ve always wanted to deep down. And it didn’t help that she was staring again at those enticing lips.

Wednesday doesn’t move any further to give Enid the choice to turn back. Instead Enid whispers “show me the passion of an Addams.”

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realm-sweet-realm · 2 years ago

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The Infiltrator, chapter 6: The Would-Be God

“Well?” Lysandre asked once N woke up.

N took a moment to recover. “Yep, you’re completely loyal to Giovanni. I’ll be on my way.”

“Alright. Now, N. Do tell me if there’s anything you need to settle in around here. Anything at all.”

“Got it,” N said, already on the way out.

Three down, two to go, N thought to himself as he made his way to Stage 2. He couldn’t believe that so many people- nine from his own region alone- were willing to sell out the world like that. But then, considering how Team Flare were apparently accepted in Kalosian society, maybe it wasn’t surprising. And the fact that Lysandre thought N would join him readily… maybe it was fairly normal for humans to be that selfish. Regardless, N had to stop Giovanni’s plan, and he had to find out how through the remaining admins.

Once N arrived in Stage 2, N asked one of the scientists where Cyrus might be and received a door number from them. The door in question was solid metal and locked tight, and N could hear the buzz of electricity from behind it. He slid his key card through the lock and opened it.

On the other side, a Pokémon resembling a jellyfish made of glass attempted to escape torture. Trapped behind a glass pane and held back by restraints, it was straining in attempt to break free of them. Every few seconds, a blindingly bright flash of electricity flowed through its shackles, making it strain harder.

On instinct, N rushed in, slammed his fist against a red button on the wall, and, as the glass barrier descended and the jellyfish began to approach him, reached out his arms for it.

“It’s okay. Come here. I’m getting you out of here,” he told it in the gentle voice he’d used on many hurt and nervous Pokémon in the past.

A man in what resembled a welder’s mask grabbed the Pokémon, threw it back into the chamber, and pushed the button, once again separating the Pokémon from them with a glass barrier.

The man turned his attention to N and took off the helmet, revealing spiked blue hair and a hard, stern, angular face. N recognized him instantly from Maxie’s memories- he’d found Cyrus.

“Do you know what that is?” Cyrus asked. His voice was calm, but his gaze froze N solid.

“No,” N answered.

“That is a nihilego,” Cyrus explained. “They have a tendency to brainwash anyone they come into contact with. If I hadn’t intervened, it would have been the end of your sanity and free will. Where is your protective equipment? And how did you get in here?”

“I... I’m your new lab assistant. Giovanni sent me,” N managed. It was a less detailed lie than N had told the other admins, but it was all he could muster. It was like his mouth was struggling to form words.

Cyrus paused, as though processing the information. “Very well. Your orders are to take the next two days off. Once Giovanni has returned, I’ll let him know that there’s been a clerical error and you’ll be reassigned. He wouldn’t intentionally give me an assistant with such a flagrant disregard for lab safety.” Cyrus made for the door, as if to lead N out.

“Wait,” N interjected as he dug out the paper with Giovanni’s signature. “I need to do a loyalty test on all the admins. Boss’ orders.”

Cyrus took the piece of paper and read it before returning his attention to N. “We’ll meet at the entrance after dark tonight and perform the loyalty test on the beach,” he stated.

N looked to Cyrus’ face for some clue that the strange request had been a joke, but found none. “We can do it here. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“I’m your superior. If I told you to perform the test in Kalos, it would be your imperative to book us a flight. Now leave.” He left no room for question. N left without another word.

A few unstructured hours wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, N supposed. It would give him time to figure out better accommodations for Abraxus and his sisters, do some miscellaneous poking around, and figure out a way to show Cyrus that he wasn’t an easy mark. Something about Cyrus told N that he wouldn’t be getting this test done unless he was firm about it.

That night, N waited at the entrance of the Rainbow Rocket building, pokéball at the ready. When Cyrus came out, N let out his Reshiram. Now it was Cyrus who was frozen solid at the sudden sight of the legendary dragon. N took Cyrus’ arm and pulled him onto Reshiram’s back. Cyrus barely resisted. The flight to the beach took all of ten seconds, and once N landed, he immediately brought out the espeon, took Cyrus by the wrist, and forced him to touch it.

N sat up in the orb pool. It wasn’t the calm place it had been with the other admins. The blood vessels on its walls were visibly, loudly pumping blood at a quickened pace. And then there were Cyrus’ thoughts.

This can’t be happening. There’s no disposing of him if he has a legendary Pokémon, and there’s no preventing him from finding me out. I’ll have to fight him tooth and nail, and if I lose, I’ll have to leave the country before Giovanni finds out...

“Is he... not loyal to Giovanni?” N asked the orb pool. “And show me anything else that would help me to stop them.”

A series of orbs rose from the pool, and the first hit N’s forehead.

---

Behind Cyrus, a cacophony raged. His two strongest commanders, Mars and Jupiter, had sent out all their Pokémon to keep Cynthia at bay as he prepared the red chain. He had to focus, as they could not hold her off forever. He blocked out the sound of claws against metal and slid the last few runes into place, completing the ritual. Giant portals appeared above him, from which Dialga and Palkia emerged. The red chain lifted, finding its way around the necks of both legendaries and leaving its two ends within Cyrus’ reach. The legendaries cried out in pain as the chain pulled itself tight.

Cyrus turned to face the three brawling women. He grabbed the red chains and instantly felt the power of Dialga and Palkia surging through him like lightning. Electrocution would have been less agonizing, but it was worth it when he saw the look of awe on his commanders’ faces and the look of terror on the champion’s.

“Garchomp, stop him!” Cynthia shouted desperately.

Garchomp sprung into action lightning-quick, aiming its claws for the face of the would-be God.

“Enough!” Cyrus shouted, whipping the chains forward. With that one motion, a shockwave went through the mountaintop. The recoil alone blew Cyrus back-first into a stone pillar, as though he were a paper bag caught in the wind.

Blood-curdling screams filled the Spear Pillar as Cynthia, Mars, Jupiter, and Garchomp were blown back in slow motion. Beyond that, Cyrus heard the dying cries of a thousand Pokémon and a hundred people coming from inside Mount Coronet. Pieces of stone broke off from the spear pillar and drifted backwards, along with bloody strips of flesh from the dragon-type and the three women. To Cyrus’ horror, he caught sight of a blue strip of his crobat’s wing membrane. It had been swooping in to defend him, and now its scream was a part of the dying chorus.

For a moment, all Cyrus could do was watch them fall apart in slow motion. Mars, with all her charm and enthusiasm and drive, was screaming as the flesh was ripped from her face. How she’d hate to be disfigured like that. Jupiter, one of the sharpest technicians he’d ever met and a woman who had always been able to see through his bluster, had had her stomach torn open, her organs flowing out like loose wires. And Cynthia, the best trainer in all of Sinnoh and the greatest threat to Cyrus’ plan, had lost an arm after being blown back into a stone pillar. Though he couldn’t see him, Cyrus hated to imagine what Saturn looked like right now. In the distance, trees toppled, and the Pokémon league, visible on the peak of a lower mountain, crumbled to the ground.

Destruction had always been an essential stage of Cyrus’ plan, and it never could have been a clean, bloodless process. As he stared upon the bloodbath he’d planned but never quite imagined, the weight of responsibility fell on his shoulders. He had to make his perfect world. He had to create something that would make all of this pain and harm worthwhile.

At least they won’t suffer anymore.

Tired of the carnage, Cyrus gently tugged on Diala’s chain to speed up time. The screams grew more distant as everything crumbled away to nothing, leaving Cyrus and the legendaries in a black void. The pain from the red chain became secondary as Cyrus took in its peaceful emptiness.

This was it. His blank canvas on which to craft a better world. It felt like his heart might beat out of his chest. Was that physical stress from the red chain, or just giddy excitement?

The first thing to be done was to create an earthlike planet. If he didn’t accomplish that, he would begin to suffocate the instant he let go of the chains. He thrust Palkia’s chain forward, and a grey and blue marble appeared, with a red sun behind it. An equal thrust of Dialga’s chain summoned a portal to the new world. The three beings floated through the portal and stepped off onto a bare, rocky cliff overlooking a turbulent sea.

Where do I begin? Should I recreate my commanders now so that they can bear witness to the creation of the new world? Or should I wait on creating life until it is already perfect?

The process of learning my powers could be rife with error. I don’t want them to see me flounder. Very well, then. The biome can wait until this world is finished. I’ll recreate Crobat to share in my process of creation, but no one else. It will be a complete version of him with no spirit. I will leave most Pokémon unchanged, as it was the human spirit that was the impurity in the old world, not Pokémon nature, but Crobat deserves to be complete.

Cyrus began to yank the chains to recreate his crobat, but his legs gave out, and he fell onto his hands and knees. His bloody hands looked as though the red chain had burned halfway through them. His breath was ragged. His face was drenched, and the dried blood caked on his eyelashes told him that not all of it was sweat. Channeling so much power was killing him, Cyrus realized. This wouldn’t last if he remained a mere conduit. He had to become the power source.

The ends of the red chains lifted from the ground and flowed into his chest, glowing as they became one with him. The wounds on Cyrus’ hands sealed back up, and the physical pain left them. Finally, Dialga and Palkia themselves were absorbed into his chest. He could feel them clawing for escape.

For a moment, Cyrus felt an energy within that was utterly beyond anything he’d ever experienced. Knowledge of everything. Power beyond his wildest imagination. He stomped the ground and watched as a pine forest sprung up before him.

And then Cyrus felt himself being dragged through the earth. When he emerged, he was falling in slow motion in a black void. Purple clouds glitched in and out of existence. A giant blob of shadow appeared before him, shuddering as though it was struggling to keep its form together.

WHA- WhAHGT HAVE YOU Do-ONE?! it screamed at him telepathically.

Cyrus tried to answer, but he was as scrambled as the creature looked. He was impotent to do so much as speak, let alone use his powers.

Maybe half a minute later, Cyrus felt himself being pulled out of the void. And then everything went black.

When Cyrus woke up, he was in a hospital bed, the boss of Team Rocket sitting next to him.

“Good morning,” Giovanni said casually. “You must be confused. Don’t worry. I’ll explain what’s going on. You see, you took control of Dialga and Palkia in your universe, tore it atom from atom, and started to recreate it. Thing is, when you destroyed this world, the Distortion World was also affected. Giratina dragged you there with the last bit of its strength. If it weren’t for me dragging you out of there, you would have glitched right out of existence. You were unconscious for over two days, but we ran some tests in the infirmary, and it looks like you’ll be as healthy as a horsea. No lasting effects aside from occasional disorientation.”

Cyrus nodded and sat up.

“So. You have no money, no Pokémon, no nothing,” Giovanni continued. "You’ll be working for me for a while, if you’re useful. Can you still use your reality-warping powers?”

Cyrus got up and focused his attention on a pen on a nearby desk. He felt a rush of energy from his chest as Dialga and Palkia clawed at it. The power traveled to his fingertips, and then... died there. The pen remained unmoved. Cyrus shook his head.

“I thought this might happen. It seems like Dialga and Palkia only have control of the spacetime in their own universe. But you’re still useful to me, assuming the Distortion World didn’t turn your brain to mush. Tell me, Cyrus, if I wanted to take over the world militarily, what legendary should I use?”

Cyrus hesitated. Did he really want to advise Giovanni on his evil deeds?

“This is just a test, I already know the answers,” Giovanni assured him. “I have plenty of people to tell me how to take over the world.”

Cyrus wasn’t sure he believed that, but he didn’t see much choice but to answer. “In large-scale conflict, the best Pokémon to use are the Unova trio. Combinations involving Kyurem are said to be extremely powerful, and unlike the Dialga and Palkia, pokéballs don’t reduce their abilities.”

Giovanni smiled. “And if I wanted to kill billions without leaving a mess?”

“Only Arceus, or Dialga and Palkia, could erase people without a trace like that.”

“And if I wanted to brainwash almost everyone else? Give me detail. Tell me how I would do it.”

“The Sinnoh lake guardians could be used for that if you found a way to amplify their powers. And you would need to acquire them to control Dialga and Palkia anyhow.”

“Last question: what Pokémon do I use to make people immortal?”

“Xerneas.”

“Excellent. You’re as sharp as ever. I’ll be real with you, Cyrus. Your knowledge of and ability to take control of legendary Pokémon is useful to me, but our goals are unreconcilable. I want to take over the world, you want to destroy it. But, I’ve visited many universes and learned about many iterations of you, and I have a deal to offer. You see, most iterations of you were resolute to the bitter end. Some decided against your goals and embraced emotion, kindness, and companionship. But there were a few who abandoned their goals when faced with the right temptation.”

“What are you proposing?” Cyrus asked.

“Rest. Simple, selfish, solitude. I know you’re tired of doing this- fighting to give people what you think they’re too ignorant to know they need while they obstruct you every step of the way. Whether you help me or not, Team Rainbow Rocket is going to take over the multiverse. You can’t stop us or restart your team because you have nothing but what I decide to give you. But you don’t have to join us for inter-dimensional conquest, either. Here’s the deal: you help us capture and use legendaries until we’ve taken over this universe, and I’ll arrange to have nice place built for you far from any free person and give you some brainwashed drones to do your bidding. It might not be your perfect world, but you could pretend it is. And since we’re capturing Mespirit, I could destroy your capacity for emotion, too, if you'd like. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Allow me a moment to think,” Cyrus requested.

“As you will.”

Cyrus got up and faced the wall opposite to Giovanni. The mere idea that his resolve could be so weak as to crumble under temptations like solitude or companionship disgusted Cyrus to his very core. Perhaps Giovanni was lying. Regardless, if such a pathetic version of himself had ever existed, he died the second he’d witnessed the bloodbath necessary for his plan. He needed to get back to his own universe and finish it. If he didn’t, then everyone had died for nothing. He could simply communicate that to Giovanni- sending him back would probably be effortless for him. But that assumed that Giovanni would make good on his promise, and it would force Cyrus to witness the destruction of another world.

No. No, not again. He would find out the secrets behind Giovanni’s inter-dimensional powers, use them, and be gone before Team Rainbow Rocket could succeed. Which meant that in the meantime, he needed to appear agreeable and malleable.

Cyrus turned to Giovanni. “Our goals are less incompatible than you think. Through death or brainwashing, you would be taking away the spirit of almost everyone on earth. I’d prefer if it were everyone, and if it didn’t come at the cost of so many lives. But you’re the only resource currently at my disposal.” Cyrus stuck out his hand. “I’ll gladly join your cause.”

Giovanni grinned, and they shook hands. “I’m glad we can see eye to eye. And Cyrus?

“Hm?”

“Thanks for the ideas.”

#pokemon #pokemon n #galactic boss cyrus #rocket boss giovanni #team rainbow rocket #The Infiltrator #my fanfiction #tw gore

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weeklyweirdnews · 6 months ago

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New Cohorts

Well future weirdos, It wasn't too difficult to pass off my experience as...period appropriate to the society. Crossed my t's and dotted my i' s, and I'm already assigned to a case with a couple other members. We didn't have time for an introduction per say, as a new case dropped into the society's before we had the chance, and I was tasked with meeting Mr. Heislan and Ms. Bishop regarding a Mr. Merriweather, a professor at Arkham university who seems to be one his deathbed and is requesting the aid of the society. It's so strange to examine these facilities in this era. The way people dress, the way they talk, it all being before the collapse of the social safety nets. I must remain mindful to not let slip things which would betray the truth of when I'm from. Mr. Heislan seems like a common enough specimen of a man, a bit burly and a bit bawdy, but not in a bad way. Ms. Bishop strikes me as rather sharp, and would be the more dangerously intelligent of my new cohorts if I were to take a guess. Both asked reasonable questions of Mr. Merriweather, Who looked to be in very poor shape as he told us of a Farmhouse in the sticks in which he and his friends summoned a Djinn into during his youth. Seems like his fear as he reaches the end of the road is that the creature will be able to escape with his passing, and he's tasked the society with preventing this terrible fate. I can sense a degree of incredulity from Heislan and Bishop, but this is exactly the sort of thing which I'd become accustomed to in my time. Based on the diary's I've read from Mr. Merriweather, This Djinn sounds like a rough customer with a very poor disposition, and this job may be very dangerous indeed. Still getting a feel for how much I can count on the others, but in the meantime working to be a valuable addition to the team. We stopped by the Orne library on the way back from the hospital in the hopes of gathering more information, the only thing we learned of value is that there is a forbidden books section to the library. I'm burning with curiosity at the sort of secrets might be contained within, but held my tongue in front of professor Henry Armitage. A bit of kissing up, and bit of polite interest...in due time I'll get access, but not today. Seems like it requires more approval than we have time to get. At the behest of Heislan We then checked in with a professor of the occult named Rigby who seemed well meaning, but had very little in the way of specific help save for suggesting that we carefully investigate this situation and not go in half cocked. We're headed to Ross's Corners, the town closest to the farmhouse to get it started. Hopefully Mr. Merriweather can hold out until we have locked away the monster he's brought to our world, or perhaps prove he's simply a madman, but something about the way he presented himself, the writings he left behind I...don't think he's mad, and I don't think he's lying. We're going to need to be very careful. Here's to hoping that my diary does not become evidence of my own foolish mistakes for another intrepid investigator to wonder about my sanity upon reading. Till next Entry future weirdos, Heather Parker

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legends-of-time · 9 months ago

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The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 43: November to December 1924

Masterlist

"I can't believe you're leaving!" Emma laments to Gemma as the two walk along the landing, both carrying luggage and a couple of lists. With Madge and Anne gone and Anna in prison, Gemma had stepped up to assist Miss Baxter.

"You too!" Gemma huffs. She had been reluctant to let Emma help her, but Emma had pointed out that as long as certain people – i.e., Mr Carson – don't spot them then what's the problem? "You're moving to a whole other country while I'm merely moving to the next county."

"Still," Emma can practically hear the pout in her own voice, "when we eventually come to visit, where will you be, huh?"

Gemma rolls her eyes but the smile on her face takes off the edge. "You'll have to come to me."

"Will Mrs whatsit approve?"

"Mrs Robins better because I am going to be the best employee she's ever had." Gemma retorts haughtily.

Emma grins. "Of course."

Gemma has now found a new job in a clothes shop in Durham and will be leaving shortly after the family returns from Northumberland on the shooting holiday they've all been invited to be the Sinderbys – they are renting Brancaster Castle for the grouse. Emma had hoped she'd stay for Christmas, but Gemma had pointed out the shop would need every hand on deck for one of the busiest times of year which Emma had to concede to.

Emma knows she's being a bit dramatic about it all, but Gemma's news is a new excuse for Emma to focus her mind and distract herself from sitting about (other than when she's at the Hospital) and worrying about Anna who's been locked up ever since her arrest after Rose and Atticus' wedding as the Police built up a case (which doesn't exist but that's never stopped them before). Mr Bates understandably does not want to leave while everything was still going on nor did he not want to miss visiting his wife when he can (though Mary has gone today), which is quite frequent at the moment as Anna hasn't been found guilty of anything, so Thomas is instead taking on his role.

——

Robert, Isobel, Emma, Tom, Cora, Edith, and Violet – Billy is at work but will be joining them on the train tomorrow – are at luncheon (or "lunch", as they're all thankfully calling it now). Mr Carson, Thomas and Mr Molesley are serving.

"Did she take a cake with a file in it?" Violet quips as the discussion of Mary visiting Anna in prison is brought up.

"I don't know why you're making such a fuss, Mama." Robert reprimands. "You'd visit Denker if she were locked up."

Emma shares a doubtful look with Isobel.

"Only to check if the locks were sound." His mother retorts. And there it is. Emma would be concerned for the woman's sanity if she had said anything different.

"Bates was found innocent, no doubt Anna will be, too." Cora the voice of hope utters.

"Let's hope." Emma says, sounding slightly more pessimistic. "Those two really deserve some better luck."

"Oh, I heard from Rosamund this morning." Violet speaks then. "She says she's going to try to get to the sale of the Della Francesca."

"Oh, I'm glad we'll be well represented." Robert says, glancing at his watch which Emma has noticed he's been doing quite frequently in the last few minutes.

"Pity it clashed with your trip north, or you could have gone." Isobel says.

"Oh, I don't mind. I've said goodbye. Now if you will excuse me, I must dash off." Robert rises from his seat, which is a surprise as they haven't finished their meal yet. "I'm expected in York at three o'clock."

"You should have gone in with Mary. You could have given her lunch." Cora tells him.

"I didn't want to kick my heels before my appointment." He leaves.

Cora turns to Violet. "Do you have any plans, Mama, for when we're away?"

"Well, Shrimpie's men have found Princess Kuragin." Violet announces. Wait what? "When she arrives in England, she's coming straight to me."

"What?" Edith voices everyone's surprise. "When did you hear?"

"Yesterday. So, we've got her out and brought her to safety."

"You must be looking forward to seeing her again." Cora says.

"Hardly." Violet scoffs.

"But if you don't like her, why have you gone to the business of sending Shrimpie to her rescue?" Tom questions.

"That's what I keep asking." Isobel remarks in an almost sing-song kind of voice.

"Well?" Emma prompts.

"Oh, you know me. Never complain. Never explain." Violet answers breezily.

'You don't usually have much trouble complaining." Edith quips.

Emma lets out a quiet snort into her drink.

——

The next morning it's all gun ho as they gather to head for Downton Station. Emma walks down the stairs with Mary, coat and hats on, where they meet Robert at the bottom.

"Is it worth speaking to Murray again before we go?" Mary asks him. "Why can't he just get her out?"

"He says they've uncovered something, but they won't tell him what it is."

Emma scoffs at that. "But he's her lawyer! He should know!"

"Amen." Robert agrees.

Billy, Cora and Tom walk up to them. Cora is holding a letter.

"What did Susan have to say for herself?" Robert asks her. When Mr Carson had handed the letter from Rose's mother to Cora, it was a question of what level of displeasure was she at.

His wife huffs. "She's furious we've been invited to Brancaster and she hasn't."

"How did she find out?" Billy questions.

"I told her. I didn't want her to hear it from someone else." Cora replies. "The divorce will be a big thing for Lord Sinderby to get over."

Mr Molesley approaches from the direction of the front door. "Cars are ready, M'lord."

"Thank you. We're just coming."

They move towards the door. Cora and Robert lead with Mary, Tom, Emma and Billy filtering behind.

Robert checks his watch. "Are we all here?" He calls.

Edith appears from the Small Library. She looks at them nervously. "Where are the children? Nanny said she'd bring them to say goodbye."

"They'll be outside." Tom reassures her. Edith sighs in relief.

Two cars are parked at the front door. The three nannies stand close by, holding the five children by the hand. Mary, Emma, Edith, Billy and Tom walk up to them. Robert and Cora, slide into the back of one of the cars.

"George, come to Mummy!" Mary squats down to hug George.

"You, too, Marigold, come to... me. Come on, darling." Edith lifts Marigold into her arms and Billy bends down to Sybbie.

Emma winces at the awkward cover-up before quickly turning, along with Tom, to Ivy and Michael to give them lots of tight hugs and kisses.

——

By the first-class coaches, Emma, Mary, Cora and Robert stand talking to Violet and Isobel, who have come to see them off while Billy and Tom have already boarded.

"I'm impressed you should come to say goodbye, Mama." Robert says to Violet.

His mother scoffs. "Why do you always talk of me as if I were a salmon who laid my eggs in the gravel and then swam back to the sea?" They all chuckle.

Mary leans forward to kiss her grandmother goodbye. "You're very maternal, aren't you, Granny, if it suits you."

"When does Princess Kuragin turn up?" Emma questions as Mary boards the train.

"Tomorrow."

"What about the Prince?" Cora asks.

"He'll be coming to dinner that night."

Robert turns to Isobel. "Will you be there?"

"Would I miss it?" The woman quips.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am that we will." Robert says with a smirk. He takes off his hat and gives his mother a peck on the cheek.

"Get aboard before I get cross with you." Violet says fondly.

Emma gives both of them a kiss goodbye before following. Mr Carson closes the door of the compartment behind her. The Station Guard shouts all aboard in the distance.

——

They have changed trains at York and now sit on their next train to Northumberland. They are having lunch in the restaurant car on the train. Cora and Robert share a small table, Edith and Mary then Emma and Tom in two other ones. Billy is on his own near them.

"For Rose's sake, we must all be on our best behaviour." Cora tells them.

"I agree. Sinderby always looks as if he's spoiling for a fight, whether he is or not. So, we must be careful not to give him grounds for one." Robert adds.

"I wonder if Billy and I were right to come. I don't want to sound like Larry Grey, but we're not Lord Sinderby's idea of perfect son-in-laws." Tom says worriedly. Billy hums in agreement.

"I'm not exactly high on the ladder either." Emma comments.

"Stuff and nonsense!" Mary scoffs. "We Crawleys stick together." It makes Emma go all soft to hear how protective Mary is of her, Billy and Tom.

"For once I agree with Mary. You'll enjoy it when we get there." Edith quips.

"Besides, you're a good shot." Robert remarks. "Any host will forgive a lot if you get the numbers up." He straightens up and draws in a sharp breath as if he is in pain. Emma frowns in concern.

"I suggested to Nanny that she take the children to Lake Gormire for a picnic." Edith tells Mary. "But do you think it too dangerous? Shall I telephone to cancel it?"

"Why don't you just shut them up in a box in the attic and let them out when they're twenty-one?" Mary retorts sounding a little annoyed.

"Don't be unkind!" Cora reprimands.

"Honestly, Emma and I are the mothers round here and we're not panicking." Mary continues. Cora exchanges an uncomfortable look with Edith, and then with Robert.

Emma winces, before leaning over to Edith. "Ignore Mary. Going to Lake Gormire is a wonderful suggestion and they'll be fine."

Edith gives her a thankful smile.

——

As they approach Brancaster, Emma looks out of the car window to see they are approaching a magnificent structure of a medieval castle. God, this place seems even grander than Downton. She shares an unsure look with Tom as the cars drive through the massive Castle gatehouse and into a courtyard. Rose and Atticus are there at the door to greet them all.

The couple leads them into a Hall decorated over and over with historic weapons.

"How was Venice?" Emma asks. The two had honeymooned there.

"Wonderful. Sublime." Rose praises.

"There was water all over the streets!" Atticus comments.

Robert laughs, then looks around. "What a marvellous place this is."

"Do you know it?"

"Well, I came here once when I was young, in old Lord Hexham's day." Robert explains. "They were trying to unload a niece."

"Sounds fun." Emma sarcastically comments as they move through the medieval hall to the more modern parts of the Castle.

"The new one's not much here, which is why they let out the shooting." Atticus explains.

"Luckily for us!" Robert quips.

They reach the foot of a large staircase where Lord and Lady Sinderby come to meet them.

"Welcome to Brancaster!" Lady Sinderby as the two walk down towards them.

"I hope you had a decent journey." Lord Sinderby gestures at his butler, who stands ready for orders. "This is Stowell, whom we brought with us. He'll be running it all."

The man looks dead inside. While Mr Carson is a stickler for following the rules and is dedicated to his job, at least he looks like a person.

"Quite a challenge for you." Billy quips to Stowell.

Stowell only gives Billy an arrogant look and moves away. There's an awkward silence, and then they all start walking up the stairs together.

"We're not a very big party, so we'll be quite cosy." Rose tells them.

"We know some of the locals, which is one of the reasons we took it." Lady Sinderby discloses.

"And Lord Hexham has asked us to be kind to his late father's pals." Atticus adds.

"That seems a bit steep, given what Lord Sinderby must be in for." Robert comments.

"Can't we use Christian names?" Rose pleads.

"My name is not a Christian name." Lord Sinderby retorts grumpily.

"You know what I mean," Rose says with a long-suffering sigh. Things clearly haven't improved.

"Shall we go through?" Lady Sinderby says with a smile.

——

They gather in the Library for tea being served by the Sinderby's butler Stowell, Thomas – now in a Brancaster livery (Emma knows he won't be happy about that) – and a Brancaster footman.

Lord Sinderby talks to Cora and Robert by the fireplace. Emma stands with Edith and Tom while Billy, Mary and Rose chatter in their own group. Lady Sinderby talks with Atticus.

Lord Sinderby then, as Thomas walks past him, all but snaps his fingers at him. "You. Milk."

Oh, dear. Everybody falls silent as if braced for an explosion, but of course, Thomas walks on to get the milk. Emma winces in sympathy.

Tom addresses Stowell. "I was wondering if I might have some sugar—"

Stowell just walks off as if he hasn't heard. Emma watches after him, aghast.

"How rude!" Edith says.

"No doubt he's discovered our 'sordid' pasts and is being a snob about it." Emma remarks. She grips Tom's hand, squeezing it. He gives her a small smile.

——

Emma wiggles uncomfortably in her tweed shooting outfit. She hadn't really wanted to put it on, but this is, at the end of the day, a shooting trip so she might as well do the full thing plus her husband is shooting as she really doesn't want to leave him hanging.

Emma emerges into the Courtyard with Tom, heading towards the two large wagons drawn by two horses each stand ready that'll take them to where they're shooting. Everyone else is dressed in country tweeds. Several barking dogs jump into the waiting wagons.

"God, I hate this outfit." Emma mutters to herself.

"You look lovely." Tom reassures her.

"Even when I'm dressed all upper class?" Emma asks dubiously.

"Even then." Tom grins. Emma gives him a soft smile as he climbs onto the wagon.

Emma is about to follow when Lady Sinderby speaks from where she stands next to the wagon, making sure everyone gets on. "I hear your husband is a good shot, Emma."

"Yes, it rises him in Lord Grantham's standard I can tell you." Emma replies warmly. Lady Sinderby chuckles at that just as Lord Sinderby comes out to them.

"Rachel?"

Lady Sinderby turns to him. "Yes?"

"You with me?"

"No, I think I'll chum Tom for this drive. Emma can keep you company." With that, Lady Sinderby turns to get onto the wagon.

Emma freezes. What?

"As you wish." Lord Sinderby concedes.

Emma doesn't feel exactly enthusiastic. She had hoped everyone would assume she's with Tom and there would be no trouble for her but apparently not.

——

The wagons travel through the glorious fields until they reach their destination and all clamber out. The dogs are running around, barking excitedly.

Lord Sinderby and Emma walk side by side. They are walking along silently until Lord Sinderby turns to her. "I'm afraid Lord Grantham's rather disappointed that I'm not inclined to welcome his cousin Shrimpie under my roof."

"Robert only said he was a good shot, and he is." There's a pause as Emma debates on whether to continue but eventually decides to do so. "Lord Sinderby, now Rose and Atticus have united your families, wouldn't it make everything less awkward for everyone if you accept the situation of Rose's parents?"

"Well, I can't pretend to approve of divorce. Even for you." Well, at least he's honest.

"And you can't learn to live with it, even for Rose's sake?" He doesn't answer. Emma sighs.

They arrive at their appointed butt – a piece of wall that the shooters shoot from behind – and Lord Sinderby and his loader prepare. Mary is with Billy, Cora, Robert, Tom and Lady Sinderby.

The grouse come flying across the heather. Lord Sinderby fires along with the other men. Emma and Lord Sinderby talk very little during the shooting. Emma glances over to see Lady Sinderby and Tom are sharing laughs in between and she's glad that at least 2 out of 3 of the Sinderbys make it easy to get along with them.

——

After the shooting concludes for the day, they gather in the Hunting Lodge to have lunch. It's all very luxurious, the walls decorated with exotic trophies. Emma sits at the table with Rose and Mary in between her and Tom, enjoying herself when she catches Stowell, who's carrying a dish of bread, walking around Tom to serve Mary instead.

"Might I have some bread?" Her husband awkwardly calls out. Emma glares at the butler as he holds it out to Tom without looking at him. Tom takes some bread. "Thank you, Stowell. You're very kind."

Sitwell doesn't completely walk around Emma when he reaches her, but he does hold it at an awkward position, so she has to twist and rise out of the chair to get some. Unlike Tom's polite response to this rudeness, Emma glares at the butler.

"I do apologise," Atticus murmurs to her, in an undertone from across the table. Emma gives him a tight smile and waves a hand to dismiss his apology.

Once Stowell has moved to the other side of the table, Emma leans toward Rose and Mary, murmuring, "God, he's doing it again. It's like he's taking turns between me, Tom and Billy on who to torture next."

Mary hums in agreement. "Poor Atticus. How can he reprimand his father's butler? Lord Sinderby wouldn't take kindly to that."

"But the silly thing is, I don't think Stowell even likes my father-in-law." Rose replies.

"He seems obsequious enough." Mary argues.

"Trust me, I doubt he's like that behind the scenes." Emma scoffs.

"Emma's right. My maid tells me it's a different story behind his back." Rose agrees.

"That's a frightening thought, when you remember what a butler knows about the family he serves." Mary remarks.

"Oh, they all know far more about us than we do about them."

Emma smirks. "Oh, we definitely do. You forget, I was a maid once." She raises an eyebrow conspiringly.

——

"I hate the way Stowell treats you, Tom and Billy." Mary says as she and Emma walk to their rooms to get changed for dinner.

"Gemma says he isn't polite downstairs. He doesn't approve of us bettering ourselves." Emma remarks, wrinkling her nose as she thinks of the distasteful butler.

"What right has he to approve or disapprove?" Mary angrily retorts.

Emma smiles gratefully at her. "Amen to that."

Mary thoughtfully ponders for a moment. "You know how Rose said he doesn't even like Lord Sinderby?"

"Yes?"

"I wonder if there is any way to get Stowell a black mark?" Mary suggests. "Can't Barrow come up with something?"

"Mmm... I suppose he usually has a card or two up his sleeve." Emma admits.

"Well, tell him to get one out of his sleeve and play it, pronto." Mary says.

Emma shares a conspiring smile with the eldest Crawley daughter. "I'll see what I can do."

——

Emma quietly slips downstairs, having quickly changed to find Thomas dressed as a valet again and holding a pair of shoes in a corridor.

"How would you like to make things difficult for Mr Stowell?" Emma calls out.

Thomas spins around surprised but then smirks when he sees it's Emma. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, he's being a right twat to me, Mr Branson and Mr Prior upstairs and I hear he's not all rainbows and sunflowers downstairs either." Emma explains as he slinks over to her. "So, Lady Mary and I were wondering if you were interested in doing something to knock him down a bit?"

"I don't mind taking him down a peg or two." Thomas admits.

"How?"

"Hmm. Let me think about it while I'm cleaning these. Which reminds me." A Brancaster maid comes walking in. Thomas calls to the maid, "Excuse me. Do you know where I can find Lord Sinderby's valet?"

The maid pauses, glancing at Emma with wide-eyed surprise. "Mr Daunt?"

"Uh-huh."

"He's gone out. He won't be back before ten."

"Thank you." The maid walks on, but not before giving Emma a few curious glances. He turns to Emma. "I think I've got an idea. Do you think Lady Mary would mind annoying Lord Sinderby into the bargain?"

Emma let's put a slight snort. "None of our lot would mind."

"And will you help me?"

Emma glances at him curiously. "I suppose so, seeing as it's what Lady Mary's asked for."

"Then there's your answer." Thomas says happily.

Emma narrows her eyes suspiciously. "I don't understand."

"You will. We need a piece of paper and a pencil. Come with me."

He walks out, looking back whether she's following. After a moment's deliberation, she does.

——

Emma hides round the corner as Thomas approaches the maid he spoke to earlier.

"Ah!" Thomas pulls a note out of his pocket. "There's a note here for a Mrs Brennan. Who's that?" He holds it out to the maid.

"The cook. Why?"

"Well, as I say, somebody's left a note for her. So, you better take it in."

The maid takes it and walks on.

Emma steps out once the maid has walked away. "How can you be sure they won't trace it back to us or you at least?"

"I'm not a complete amateur, Emma. Give me some credit." Thomas remarks.

Emma scoffs. "Debatable." She's not going to be the one that compliments him.

Thomas rolls his eyes before chucking. "I've missed you know."

Emma frowns. "What do you mean?"

"You know, us, gossiping and scheming." Thomas replies softly. "We don't do it much now you're upstairs."

"Usually, it's me telling you off for your scheming." Emma retorts, injecting some humour.

"True," Thomas admits, "but still and now we're not even going to be in the same country or the same continent."

Emma smiles softly. "I won't be gone forever, you know."

"I hope so."

——

There are two dozen people seated around the magnificent dining table, attended by Stowell, Thomas and some more Brancaster footmen. In a corner, a woman is playing a harp, and a man is playing Northumbrian smallpipes (the smaller, quieter cousin of the Scottish bagpipes). The group are seated opposite each other, Emma, Atticus, Mary, Lord Sinderby and Cora on one side and Robert, Lady Sinderby, Billy, Tom and Edith on the other.

Atticus addresses his mother across the table. "It's rather a nuisance, but Charlie Rogers has rung to say he's got a friend staying, so he's either got to bring him on Thursday or chuck."

"Oh, that's maddening." Robert comments. "What will you do?"

"I've said to bring him, but it means I can't shoot." Atticus tells them.

"How infuriating. Who is he?" Mary looks ready to murder the poor friend, who she's never met.

"He's called Henry Talbot. But I don't know anything about him."

"Well, I'll tell the agent not to come." Lord Sinderby decides.

"Oh, no. Poor Mr Pelham, that's too unkind." Atticus turns to the rest of them. "I don't know why exactly, but we all feel a bit sorry for him."

Edith sighs sympathetically. She can relate. The nickname 'Poor Edith' comes to mind.

Soon, dinner is being served. Thomas walks around with a platter while Stowell serves the wine. He fills Robert's glass, then moves on skipping Billy this time.

"I wonder whether I might have some wine?" Billy awkwardly calls after him.

"You've not had any?" Lord Sinderby questions, he turns to his butler. "Stowell, what's the matter with you?"

Stowell scowls and moves back to pour some wine for Billy, too. Meanwhile, Thomas holds his platter for everyone on Lord Sinderby's side of the table to serve themselves including Emma, except for Lord Sinderby himself. Instead, a Brancaster footman places a special plate in front of Lord Sinderby. It has a single, unattractive piece of white meat on it, probably some kind of fowl, with no sauce or anything else. It's quite different from the juicy roast everyone else is getting.

Lord Sinderby stares at it in disbelief. Emma shares a glance with Thomas, who is holding the platter for Mary, letting nothing on to everyone else.

"What the devil's going on?" Lord Sinderby questions, turning to his wife. "Rachel?"

Lady Sinderby is unaware of any mistakes. "Mmh?"

Lord Sinderby gestures at his plate. "Explain this."

"Explain what?"

"Why am I not being given anything decent to eat?" Lord Sinderby demands to know.

All conversation at the table has ceased. The guests listen in embarrassed silence.

"I don't know. Stowell?"

"It was Your Lordship's order." Stowell replies.

Lord Sinderby looks a Stowell in disbelief. "What are you talking about? What is the matter with you tonight?"

"Mr Daunt left a note for the cook, saying you'd asked—"

"I never said a thing to Daunt!" Lord Sinderby retorts angrily. "And why are you so rude to Mr Prior, and Mr and Mrs Branson?"

"Really, there's no need—" Tom tries to say diplomatically but he's cut off.

"The cook told me you had requested simpler—" Stowell explains. He's speaking in a defiant tone, very out of place for a servant.

"Stowell. Someone's played a joke on us. Now, when you got the note, did it look like Daunt's writing?" Lord Sinderby questions.

Emma freezes in panic. She picks up her wine, taking a sip so as not to give anything away. She glances at Thomas to see him watching it all with a perfect poker face.

"I never saw the note." Stowell replies. "And obviously Mrs Brennan is not familiar—"

"What?!" Lord Sinderby loudly snaps. "Do you dare to use the word 'obviously' when you contradict me? Now take this away, fetch me some dinner and conduct yourself more professionally in the future!" He then calls over his shoulder, to Thomas, "And bring that back, you stupid fool!"

Emma glares at him in disbelief. Why the hell did he have to say that for? Emma knows what he's doing, he's irritated and angry and is letting it out at anyone and everyone. While, yes, Thomas was partly the cause of this, Lord Sinderby doesn't know that.

Thomas exchanges a look with Stowell, who jerks his head to indicate that Thomas is to serve Lord Sinderby the same food as everyone else. Thomas in turn jerks his head at a Brancaster footman to remove the offending piece of white meat.

Rose tries to save the situation by making some more small talk. "We're not shooting tomorrow, so would you like to see the estate?"

"What fun that would be." Cora says overeagerly. "Don't you think so, Robert?" Her husband lets out a slight grunt.

"Goodness." Mary mutters, loud enough for only Atticus and Emma to hear.

"He does get so rattled by things." Atticus responds.

"I can tell." Emma comments, sharing an amused look with Mary. "But Mary and I are not very keen on your butler, so I'm afraid we rather enjoyed it."

"Well, maybe, but Stowell's a proud chap. He won't find that easy to forgive." Atticus warns.

"I don't think Barrow will much like being called a stupid fool." Mary says.

And indeed, Thomas is now going about his duties with a murderous look on his face.

——

Emma meets Thomas, who is dressed as a valet again, which must be about the fifth change of uniform for the poor man that day in a secluded corner of the servants' area.

"You got more than you bargained for." Emma says.

"I've had my run-ins with His Lordship before, but I have never been insulted in public, and I don't intend to start now." Thomas remarks.

Emma looks at him curiously. "Lord Sinderby shouldn't have yelled at you like that. For all he knows, you had no involvement. Still, Stowell got a flea in his ear and that's what we wanted."

"What you and Lady Mary wanted, perhaps. I've got bigger plans now." Thomas retorts.

"What do you mean?" Emma questions in alarm.

"Oh, you'll see." He walks on to knock on the door of the Butler's Pantry.

God, she really should have predicted this.

——

The next day, they take a walk by the river near the Castle. Atticus, Rose and Edith walk in a group, Emma and Tom walk with their arms linked and Mary and Billy lead the group. Lady Sinderby, Cora and Robert are up ahead.

"It's a shame Lord Sinderby wouldn't come." Emma hears Edith say.

"Mother did ask him. She thought it might get rid of some of the nasty taste of last night, but he said no." Atticus says.

"He's a difficult man." Rose turns to her husband. "Or shouldn't I say that?"

"You can say what you like after that dinner." Atticus reassures her. "Oh, well, at least we gave the county something to talk about."

"I wonder what the truth was about the letter from the valet." Rose wonders as the whole group comes to a stop.

"Well, Gemma says it was one of the Castle staff. They hate Stowell." Emma tells them.

"Baxter says much the same." Edith adds.

"They'll hear no argument from me." Billy remarks.

"Well, it's over now." Mary brushes it off then turns to Rose and Atticus. "Why were you all in a huddle at breakfast?"

"Atticus has been offered a job in New York." Rose tells them.

"Oh, congratulations."

"Thank you." Atticus turns to Emma and Tom. "Aren't you going to America soon?"

"We are. We're going to Boston." Tom replies.

"When?"

"We're planning to spend Christmas at Downton and leave in the new year." Emma explains.

"Well, it hasn't been decided yet." Mary retorts.

"Poor Mary. She hates to be left behind when everyone else is getting on with their lives." Edith remarks.

"It isn't that. It's the thought of being left with you." Mary quips back sauntering off. Edith huffs a frustrated breath.

——

They gather in the Drawing room ahead of dinner. Stowell enters and catches Lady Sinderby's eye.

"That's dinner, everyone!" Lady Sinderby calls.

Mary is talking to Emma, Tom and Atticus by the fireplace. "Will you shoot tomorrow, or have you given way to the uninvited guest?"

"I don't think I have a choice." Atticus responds.

"You can have my place." Tom offers.

"Certainly not!" Atticus retorts as they start walking towards the doors. "I've had two good days, we're out on Friday, so I don't merit pity."

"I hope your neighbour knows how accommodating you're being." Mary grumbles.

"You can tell him if you like. He's staying the night, so you'll have plenty of opportunity."

"Don't tempt me." Mary replies. "I do find it astonishing; the way people take these things for granted."

"We can't all be as unselfish as you, Mary." Emma remarks. Mary gives her a very dark look. "Just joking!"

Tom and Atticus grin. Mary rolls her eyes.

——

They are out shooting again the next day. The dogs run around excitedly while everyone gets out of the horse-drawn wagons and pairs up. Lord Sinderby is giving instructions to his young guests.

"Rose, you chum Tom. Mary, go with Mr Talbot." Lord Sinderby instructs.

Mr Talbot is the friend who has been brought along by Atticus' friend Charlie Rogers. Mary goes to join him, smiling civilly.

"Rachel..." Lord Sinderby looks at the rest of them. "Oh, sort it out between you. I'll see you all there." He turns to walk away, joined by his wife.

"I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go." Edith remarks.

"Oh, he's such a controller. Go where you'd like." Rose says, a little annoyed. She turns to Charlie Rogers, who walks next to Edith. "Mr Rogers?"

"Would it be awful if I were left alone with my loader?" He remarks in a friendly tone.

"Of course not."

"You can go with Tom, Rose." Emma reassures her as they walk to their spots. "I'll join Billy."

Billy raises an eyebrow. "And watch my failure?"

"You're not that bad." Emma tries to reassure him.

"I beg to differ." Billy sighs.

They walk on. Once the shooting has started, Emma sees that Edith has joined Bertie Pelham, the agent. In between the shooting, she observes the conversation between Mary and Mr Talbot as well as Edith and Mr Pelham. The latter's conversation seems to be going a lot better than the former's.

——

It's raining when they all gather outside the Castle grounds after the shoot to have lunch. Stowell stands under an umbrella as the guests walk through the medieval ruins of the outer buildings.

Emma walks by Mary, both carrying their own umbrellas, just behind Robert and Cora and sees Stowell hand Robert a note as he walks past.

Emma isn't really listening to him as he talks to Cora until she hears the words 'date', 'Anna' and 'trial'. She quickly glances over at Mary, who looks similarly alarmed.

"What's that?" Mary questions, come up behind them along with Emma.

"Anna's going for tr– ow!" Emma startles in alarm when Robert then squirms and groans, holding his side. The four of them come to a stop.

"That settles it. You will not shoot any more today, or tomorrow." Cora declares.

Atticus and Rose have joined them, looking worried. Edith comes up to them, too.

"Don't embarrass me, please." Robert begs.

"I won't if you do as I say." Cora retorts.

"What can I do to help?" Atticus asks.

"Take my place this afternoon." Robert says. Atticus nods and he and Rose move on.

"What's the matter, Papa?" Edith questions worriedly.

"I'm perfectly all right, I just need to take things a little easy."

"If only he'd chosen not to be all man-like and keep it concealed." Cora retorts disapprovingly.

They walk on. Emma realises that Mr Pelham has joined them as well. Probably heard most of it. He joins Edith, offering his help to which Edith asks him to get someone to fetch Atticus' guns.

"You see, this is why I didn't want to make a thing of it." Robert grumbles.

"Is it really true about Anna?" Emma asks worriedly.

"We'll know more when we get home." Robert replies.

——

The shooting party have returned after their afternoon shoot and is now having tea. Lord Sinderby approaches Robert, who stands with Rose, Emma, Tom, Edith and Mr Talbot.

"I'm glad to find you here and not in bed. Have you recovered?" He remarks.

"Completely. I suppose I missed a marvellous afternoon." Robert complains.

"Spectacular." Mr Talbot says.

And that's going to make him feel better...

There's a lull in the conversation, and Emma turns to see what has arrested everyone's attention. A young-ish woman, holding a boy of primary school age by the hand, appears in the doorway. Everyone has turned to look but nobody seems to recognise her. The woman has stopped in the doorway, clearly unsure whether she's welcome. Lady Sinderby has walked forward to see who this unknown guest might be. Suddenly, Rose hurries to join them, calling across the room, cheerfully greeting the woman. She kisses 'Diana Clark' on the cheek, who seems as surprised as everyone else. Odd...

Everyone else has returned to their conversations while watching on as Lady Sinderby bends down, talking to the boy then leading him into the room to where Edith, Tom, Mr Pelham and Mr Talbot are. Atticus joins Rose and Diana and holds out his hand to the latter.

Mary has now wandered over to where Robert and Emma stand.

"Who is that woman?" The former questions. "She can't be a great friend of Rose. I've never seen her before in my life."

"Nor me." Mary murmurs. "The truth is, we asked Barrow to get Stowell into trouble, and I'm terribly afraid he overdid it."

Emma's head snaps towards where Thomas stands in the Brancaster livery, again.

"I'm going to have a word with him." Emma grumbles.

Mary and Emma go to join Rose who's wandered away from Atticus and Diana who are still talking.

"We're so interested to meet your very old friend Mrs Clark, whom we have never clapped eyes on before." Mary says to Rose, pointedly.

"Help me." Rose pleads.

"Only if you tell us what's going on." Emma responds.

"Come." She leads Mary and Emma towards Atticus and Diana with Robert following.

Emma glances back to see that Billy, Tom and Mr Talbot are watching from across the room.

Lady Sinderby arrives to introduce Diana to the rest of the party but sees Emma, Robert and Mary already beside her. "Oh, of course, you all know each other."

"Diana, it's so lovely to see you again!" Mary greets brightly.

"Indeed, it's been too long." Emma adds breezily.

Emma and Mary give Robert pointed looks and he quickly cottons on. "Of course. How have you been since you were last at Downton?"

"Oh..." Diana looks even more startled but plays along. "Well. Awfully, awfully well."

"Will you excuse me?" Lady Sinderby walks away allowing them to relax slightly. Diana looks across the room and Emma turns to see it's Lord Sinderby, who quickly looks away. The man looks positively ill, sitting on a chair in the corner. Wait...

"I wish he'd come and speak to me." Diana murmurs to Rose.

"I suppose he can't." Mary remarks.

"Who?" Robert questions. He receives a few looks and the penny drops. "Oh, crikey! No, he can't."

"That bastard." Emma mutters.

"I've come all the way from London." Diana says in a very small voice. God, Emma feels sorry for her. "Who would do such a nasty thing?"

"Oh, I think I know," Rose says with a glance at Stowell, "and I think I know why. But it won't help to tell you."

——

When Emma is leaving with Mary and Rose to escort Diana and her son to the car, Tom catches her, asking what's going on. She explains that she can't tell him now but promises to tell him later.

Rose is outside seeing Diana Clark and her boy back into the taxi. She comes walking back in and meets Mary and Emma in the next room from the ground floor entrance hall. Looking across, they see Stowell by the door.

"Stowell looks like he's in a cage with a tiger." Mary remarks. The butler is indeed pacing. "Are you going to give him away to your father-in-law?"

"Mmm... that would be too simple." Emma comments.

"You're right." Rose saunters out, walking across to the butler as he closes the door. "Stowell! How did you know about Mrs Clark?"

There's an awkward pause before Stowell speaks, "Will you tell His Lordship, M'lady?"

"I can't decide." Rose calmly replies. "But in the meantime, I hope you can be more polite to Mr Prior and Mr and Mrs Branson while they're with us."

"Certainly, M'lady." He bows and moves away, defeated.

Emma can't help the smirk that spreads across her face.

——

Emma waits round the corner for Thomas to come along and once he does; she grabs him and pulls him round the corner. He looks at her, startled.

"What were you thinking?!" She hisses at him before he can say anything.

Thomas' face hardens. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do." Emma rebuts. "How could you do that to Miss Clark? As well as the hurt you could have caused for Lady Sinderby and Mr Aldridge."

"You and Lady Mary asked me to make trouble for Mr Stowell." Thomas argues.

Emma almost growls in frustration. "And you did but then you took it too far Thomas."

"He called me a fool and you expected me not to do anything?!" Thomas cries.

Emma scoffs. "I should've known better. Of course, you'd do this without a care on who you hurt, it's all about you. You're lucky it didn't explode in everyone's face."

She then saunters off, irritated. She knows she'll cool off soon and forgive him all over again like she always does but right now Emma will let him suffer a little.

——

After dinner that night, they pass through the Red Drawing room into the Yellow Drawing room. Rose, Robert, Emma and Mary are last.

Lord Sinderby comes up behind them when they're the only ones left in the room. "Rose, Emma, Mary, Robert? Would you stay in here for a moment, please?" He closes the door to the next room to make sure they can't be overheard.

The other four exchange somewhat disquieted looks.

Lord Sinderby turns back to them. "I'm glad to have caught you four. I wasn't sure I could manage it."

"I'm intrigued." Robert comments.

"Oh, you needn't pretend. You saw the depths of my humiliation earlier." Lord Sinderby says with a wry chuckle. Everyone looks politely down. "Well, who planned it, I wonder?"

Mary shrugs. "Everyone has enemies."

Emma keeps silent. She's mad, not heartless.

"I'd be grateful if we could restrict this knowledge to our number. I do not believe that any of you would wish to cause either Rachel or Atticus pain."

"No, we can all agree on that." Emma agrees.

Robert nods. "Indeed. No one else will ever know."

"The truth is, it could all have been very much worse. And that it was not is due entirely to Rose." Lord Sinderby turns to his daughter-in-law. "Rose, my dear... you are clever, kind and resourceful." Rose smiles, surprised. "And I wish to put it on record that I see now that we are lucky to have you in the family. I shall be inviting your parents to stay as soon as is convenient."

"You don't have to." Rose reassures.

"Oh, I think I do. We all know that people who live in glass houses are ill-advised to throw stones." He actually smiles, for the first time ever, and claps his hands together. "Now, I've had a gramophone put into the Library, so run along and enjoy yourselves."

"Golly! What fun! Thank you." Rose gasps. Probably also for the first time ever, she kisses Lord Sinderby on the cheek.

Mary opens the door, and Emma and Rose hurry to join her.

——

As promised by Lord Sinderby, a gramophone is playing lively music in the Library. Rose and Atticus are dancing a foxtrot, and so are Mary and Henry Talbot and Billy and Edith. Tom stands with Emma, each holding a glass. Also watching are Bertie Pelham and Charlie Rogers.

Tom and Emma finish their drinks so the former moves over to a table filled with drinks to put them down. Stowell stands next to it.

"Is there anything I can get you, Sir? Anything you'd like?" Stowell asks him politely.

Tom looks surprised. "No. No, thank you, Stowell. You've been very considerate."

Emma watches this with approval. Stowell bows and moves away so Emma moves over to join her husband.

Tom chuckles. "Did you do something?"

Emma turns to him looking perfectly innocent. "What makes you think I did something?"

"Because you usually have." Tom says, not fooling for her act.

Emma shrugs. "Whether I did or did not is not the point. Now hopefully we'll, as well as Billy, have a better trip."

Tom looks at her amused. "Hmm," he looks out to the dancing couples before looking back to Emma, "want to dance darling?"

"Eh, why not?" Emma remarks, taking his offered hand.

Tom shakes his head, laughing as the two of them take to the floor.

Later on, there's a new song playing, and Emma, Tom and Edith stand off the side, talking.

"Are you looking forward to going home?" Tom casually remarks.

"Why, particularly?" Edith questions, looking unsure.

Emma and Tom share a look. "Aren't you missing Marigold?" The former asks.

"Aren't you missing Ivy and Michael? Isn't Billy missing Sybbie? And Mary George?" Edith asks shakily.

Another look. "Not quite as much." Tom answers.

"What are you trying to say?"

Tom shrugs. "Not a lot, really. But these will be our last months at Downton, and you have always been our ally. I'd like to feel we were honest with each other. You see, where I grew up, there were quite a few Marigolds."

Edith avoids avoiding their eyes. "I'm not sure I understand you."

"I think you do." Tom argues. "My cousin Nula had a child that was brought up as her sister. No one talked of it, naturally, but we all knew."

Emma had met Nula when she and Tom were living in Ireland along with her 'little sister'. It hadn't taken Emma long to cotton on, but she hadn't minded. Both women were kind and welcoming, and Emma liked them.

Edith sighs. "I told Papa you'd guess."

Emma is surprised. "So, they're both in on it?"

"They are now."

"And Mary? Does she know?"

"No. She's completely uninterested in me, which should keep me safe." Edith retorts. She meets their eyes. "Please, keep it to yourselves. Not for my sake so much as for hers."

"You may not believe it, but I'm a signed-up member of this family now." Tom reassures her, putting a reassuring hand on her arm.

Emma nods, squeezing Edith's hand.

The music ends. One of the guests is about to put the next record on.

Mr Pelham walks over to Edith. "Can I have this one?"

"Of course." Edith says with a smile. They start dancing. Emma smiles when she spots Edith laughing. Maybe...

——

The trip is over, and Emma looks out of the window of the car she sits in with Tom and Mary, watching as more and more of the Abbey is visible as they make it up the drive. Edith and Billy sit in one and Robert and Cora in the other.

Mr Carson and Mr Molesley are at the front door of the house to greet them as they pull up. The cars halt, and Mr Carson holds the door of the front car open for Robert to emerge. Mr Molesley and the hall boy, Albert, open the other car doors.

The nannies come hurrying out of the house with the children, Nanny Joan leading Ivy and George by the hand with Sybbie scurrying after them, Margaret carrying Marigold on her hip with Michael toddling next to her. They make straight for the cars that contain their parents while Mr Carson talks to Robert.

Emma beams as she greets her children along with Tom, Edith, Billy and Mary. She's giving Michael a big squeeze when she looks over his shoulder to see both butler and Lord looking very serious as they walk to the front door. Emma frowns. What's going on there?

She's brought out of her thoughts by Michael poking her cheek. "Mama? You okay?"

Emma gives him a soft smile. "Mama's fine. Now, tell me what you've been up to." She puts him down.

He grabs her hand and pulls her towards the front door, eagerly telling her all about their trip to the lake.

——

Robert is updating them on the latest developments as they gather in the Library. Mr Bates has confessed to killing Mr Green and has fled.

"Will he be hiding somewhere?" Edith questions.

"In Ireland, I presume." Robert replies. "He has family there. And the English Police are not too well regarded if they try to find him."

Emma glances at Tom.

"Why hasn't Anna been released? Why did Mr Carson wait?" Emma demands to know.

"I'll telephone Murray now. He'll be able to get her out." Robert tells them, walking away to do just that.

"Though I don't believe for a moment Bates did it." Cora says.

"No! But neither did Anna." Mary scoffs. "So, it won't be unjust to set her free."

"But he can't stay on the run forever." Emma argues.

"Unless we can prove neither did it, he can't comeback otherwise he goes to prison." Billy points out.

——

A day or so later, Anna returns safe and sound though she's understandably unhappy. She's still on bail and her husband is on the run. The situation is frustrating as if Mr Bates does return and is found innocent then Anna goes to jail. Either way one is innocent and the other guilty right now.

That evening, they're assembled in the Drawing room ahead of dinner. Robert, Billy, Mary, Edith, Emma and Tom are already there when Mr Carson opens to door for Cora.

"I thought you'd look in before you came down." Cora greets her husband.

"To tell you how I got on in York?" Robert retorts.

"Yes...?"

"I wanted to wait until we were all together." Robert says, drawing the room together. "You'll be pleased to hear I am not about to have a heart attack. Your father has an ulcer."

Everyone relaxes at the announcement.

"Oh, that's a relief!" Mary exclaims.

"Oh, yes, it is a relief," Edith agrees, "but you've got to be good with your diet."

"Well said. We'll take it seriously - white fish, chicken, no alcohol." Cora declares.

Robert looks alarmed at the list item on the list. "Steady on!"

"I mean it! You frightened me. I don't like to be frightened." Cora retorts.

"Even so, there must be room for negotiation." He pleads.

"Why don't you promise to lay off everything until Christmas Day?" Billy suggests.

"Christmas Eve."

"Christmas Eve then." Mary turns to Cora. "Mama?"

"I suppose." She replies reluctantly. "But I'll be strict."

"And then we'll have a merry Christmas as Emma and I's last memory of Downton." Tom says.

"Don't make it sound so final!" Cora admonishes.

"Oh, we'll be back one day." Emma reassures. "Tom will be desperate to see how the Village turns out."

Mr Carson comes back in and leaves the door open by way of announcing dinner.

"That reminds me. Good news in the evening post. The Della Francesca sold amazingly well." Robert announces.

Pleased looks and smiles all around as they move to the Dining room.

——

Emma and Tom have been in full swing in their final preparations for their move to Boston. Emma was sad to hand in her notice to Dr Clarkson, who promised her that the person who replaces her will not fill the hole Emma will leave.

The Abbey is now a winter wonderland, snow covering the lawns and still more of it falling. It's almost Christmas Eve and the Abbey is buzzing with excitement. Emma too but not for Christmas. She hasn't been to the Clarkson just to hand in her notice but to also check some suspicions of hers. They are going to be parents a third time.

She is sure of it now, about two months along already. There had been several false alarms, and each had dampened Tom's spirits. So, Emma decided to hold off on telling him until she was absolutely certain. Tom is usually so in tune with her body that often, he notices if her monthly cycle is late before she does. This past month, however, he has been busy doing interviews for the new agent, so he hasn't mentioned anything. But she'll tell him soon, a little Christmas present.

But first, she joins her husband, and children as well as Mary and George, Billy and Sybbie and Edith and Marigold in decorating the magnificent tree in the Great Hall.

Andy Parker, their new footman who'd helped out at Rose's wedding, comes into the Hall looking very smart in his brand-new Downton footman's livery. He carries several cardboard boxes over to the tree and puts them down there.

The Sybbie, George (with a little help from Mary) and Ivy put ornaments on the tree. Emma and Edith, with Marigold and Michael on their hips, do it for them.

"Are you ready for the lights?" Tom goes behind the tree. "Three, two, one..." He switches the fairy lights in the tree on. Everyone gasps happily.

"It's beautiful, Daddy!" Ivy exclaims.

——

Mr Carson leads Mr Molesley and Miss Baxter into the Library, where Robert is at the writing desk. Mary stands nearby. Emma, Cora and Edith are on the red settees.

"Come in. I understand you asked to see me. Carson will stay." Robert says.

"It's about Mr Bates, My Lord." Mr Molesley begins. Emma watches on curiously.

"So, Carson tells us. Please, we're all anxious to hear anything to Bates' good."

"But how can we get a message to him? That's what worries me." Mr Molesley wonders.

"Let us concern ourselves with that when we know the new evidence." Robert dismisses.

"Mr Bates told the Police that he'd spent the day Mr Green died walking round York. He said he'd eaten in a pub, but he couldn't identify it." Miss Baxter tells them.

"He must have been out of his mind. Is it any wonder he'd forgotten?" Mary defends.

"No. But we know which pub it was." Mr Molesley declares.

Emma leaps up out of her seat in shock though it was an admittedly bad idea as she's now feeling a little dizzy.

Robert jumps up from his chair and exclaims, "What?!" as Emma, Cora and Edith walk over to hear more.

"I took a photograph of Mr Bates, and we, Miss Baxter and I, we've spent our days off walking around the city, and, er, questioning the landlords." The footman explains.

"But it must have taken forever." Cora realises. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Since we came back from Brancaster." Miss Baxter answers.

"And how many pubs have you visited?" Edith asked.

"Sixty, seventy... We had a list of them, and we ticked them off one by one." Mr Molesley says.

"Christ..." Emma murmurs as they all exchange very impressed looks.

"We still had a third to do when we found it. It's, er..." he takes out a piece of paper, "here, M'lord. It's a Mr Salter of The Pickerel in King Street."

"And he'll swear to this?" Mary questions tentatively.

"He will, M'lady." Mr Molesley assures. "He remembered Mr Bates' limp. And he also remembered how he almost got angry when Mr Salter tried to help him to a table."

"Sounds like Bates!" Robert remarks.

"Then they started talking and it turned out that they'd both served in the South African war." Miss Baxter adds.

"Mr Bates is quite distinctive, so I believed we had a good chance." Mr Molesley says.

"May I make a suggestion? If Mr Vyner accepts this man's statement, then surely it would overturn any attempt to prosecute?" Mr Carson speaks.

"But if this does prove Bates' innocence, which clearly it does, won't they re-arrest Anna?" Emma questions.

"We must cross that bridge when we come to it." Robert says. "We can't leave Bates on the run when he's an innocent man."

"Right, of course."

"Molesley, Baxter, you've done something fine. Generous and fine." Robert congratulates the pair. "I'll telephone Mr Murray at once, but I'm sure neither Bates nor we can ever adequately express our gratitude."

"Thank you, M'lord." Mr Molesley responds, deeply moved. He and Baxter leave.

——

It is time for the Christmas Eve party for the tenants is in full swing. The tenants as well as Rose and Atticus are arriving but before they go down to greet them, Emma and Tom take the chance to slip away to the Nursery. They walk in to find Edith and Billy have both beat them to it, placing stockings labelled Sybbie and Marigold on the end of the two girls' bed and crib.

"We thought it was a good moment, while Mama has them all downstairs." Edith remarks.

"Us too." Emma says as she and Tom place Ivy and Michael's.

Tom then looks thoughtfully around the room. Emma is hit with emotion, it won't be long till these rooms that have become so familiar in the past 15 years will no longer be around and she'll be faced with an unfamiliar home in an unfamiliar country.

"What are you thinking?" Edith asks.

"I'm taking photographs in my mind, to think of when we're far away." Tom replies.

"Oh, Tom, Emma. I'm always ticking off Mary for saying she doesn't want you to go, but I—" she shares a look with Billy, "—we hope you both know how much we'll miss you."

"Lots." Billy agrees. "What will I do without my conspiring partners."

Tom and Emma share a teary smile. "Well, we know how much we'll miss all of you." The latter says. "And I suppose that must be pretty similar."

Mary enters, also carrying a Christmas stocking. "Great minds think alike." She puts it on George's bed.

"What do you say we take a moment to think of Sybil?" Billy suggests. "We're the five left on earth who loved her the most."

"And Mama and Papa." Edith argues.

"But we're the three who should have grown old with her." Emma points out, feeling tearful.

"That's true." Mary admits.

"And who knows when we'll be together again?" Tom adds. He takes Emma and Billy's hands. Emma grabs Mary's and Billy takes Edith's.

"Darling Sybil..." Edith takes Mary's hand, too, so they form a circle. "Wherever you are... we send you all our love and kisses for the happiest of happy Christmases."

They all share small tearful smiles before turning and walking out. Emma pauses when she realises Tom isn't following. She looks back to see him lingering, looking around the comfortable, fire-lit room with both affection and regret.

"Hey," Emma speaks softly, "we'll be back one day."

Tom sighs heavily. "I know, I know. Doesn't make this any easier."

"No." She says quietly. "But let's not think about that now. Let us enjoy the rest our time here."

"You're right." He takes her hand, and they go downstairs.

——

The Christmas Eve party for the tenants is in full swing. Billy, Edith, Isobel, Cora, Robert, Violet, Mary, Emma and Tom lead the singing of a carol at the head of the Hall, by the tree while the servants, and behind them the tenants, all join in. Next to them, Rose is coaching Atticus, who is not familiar with the song. Mr Carson's deep bass stands out among the other voices.

Now to the Lord sing praises,

All you within this place,

And with true love and brotherhood,

Each other now embrace,

The holy tide of Christmas,

All others doth deface,

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy,

O tidings of comfort and joy.

Once the song ends, Robert speaks to them all, "Ah, we'll have a break now. Please, all of you, help yourselves to a drink and have something to eat." Everyone starts moving towards the buffet. "You, too, Molesley, Andrew. And Anna, you - you have a drink. I want everybody to have a drink." He's clearly pretty much plastered already. Emma hopes it won't end badly.

She steers away from the drink table and instead saunters over to Tom who has moved to chat with a couple of the tenants. Emma grins at the sight of him. She's decided that she'll tell him her news, their news, as her Christmas gift. When their eyes meet, he stops and grins as well. Emma slows her step and enjoys merely looking into his eyes as they get closer. Tom closes the distance between them and pulls her into a sweeping hug.

Emma closes her eyes, and she pulls him tightly into her and feels his lips against her ear. "Will it be a boy or a girl this time, do you think?"

Emma pulls away in shock. "You know! How?"

"I notice when it happens and when it doesn't." He says with a wink. "You think I can't count the days on a calendar?"

Emma laughs. "Are all husbands so... well acquainted with their wives, do you suppose?"

"They should be."

"Even if they are, I consider myself very lucky." Emma says planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Tom smiles. "That makes two of us."

"No darling, it makes five."

Tom grins, kissing her once more. "Shall we tell them?"

"Not yet," Emma replies, "let's keep it to ourselves for a little longer."

Mary comes over to them. "Someone's happy. I suppose you're all packed?"

"Pretty well." Tom replies though he can't seem to keep the smile off his face. Mary looks at him suspiciously, so Tom tries to move on. "But you and I should go through everything in my office. In fact, you should take it over."

Mary accepts the diversion. "I wouldn't know where to start."

Emma scoffs. "Well, I think you're the perfect person for it." Tom nods in agreement.

Cora appears behind them, looking unnerved. "Emma, Tom, Mary, you have to come. Robert's about to give a speech and it is not a good idea."

"It was bound to happen." Mary remarks. "He's been desperate for even the smallest drop."

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Robert is calling loudly to the guests.

Tom moves to his side and interrupts him. "Ladies and gentlemen! I hope you will let me speak for you when I thank His Lordship for this wonderful party and for a marvellous year."

"Now, just a minute..." Robert tries.

Tom starts to sing. "For he's a jolly good fellow..."

Everyone joins in immediately. "For he's a jolly good fellow..."

The song soon ends and everyone claps. Robert makes another attempt to address the guests, but again, Tom is quicker.

"And now Lady Mary is going to sing for us, accompanied by Lady Edith."

This is clearly news to them both, but Mary and Edith move to the piano with good grace. Tom gently nudges Robert out of their way.

Mary sings while Edith plays. Everyone watches and listens, deeply touched.

Silent night,

Holy night,

Sleeps the world, hid from sight,

Mary and Joseph in stable bare,

Watched o'er the child,

Beloved and fair,

Sleep in heavenly rest,

Sleep in heavenly rest.

——

The song has ended, and the children have come to look at the tree. While Mary looks at the decorations with George, Billy with Sybbie and Edith carrying Marigold on her hip, Robert talks to Emma and Tom. He's suddenly quite sobered up.

"We're going to miss you very much." Robert is saying. "Did I tell you? Very much. I suppose everyone's saying that."

"Yes, they are. But it's not like you to be sentimental." Tom responds.

Robert chuckles. "In vino veritas - 'from wine comes truth'. The fact is, I've grown extremely fond of you both." He puts a hand on Tom's. "This might sound strange to you but you both have become another daughter and son to me. Always remember you have a home to come back to."

Emma smiles warmly. "We're very touched. And, yes, we will think of Downton as our home."

"God," they turn to see Billy standing nearby and Edith and Marigold lingering next to them, "Sybil would be shocked to hear this."

Emma laughs wetly. "Oh, she would."

Robert, overcome with emotion and not wanting to let it show, turns and picks up Ivy, who is hovering in the background with Nanny Jean. "Whoa! Now, what should Marigold call me?"

"Donk!" Ivy cries.

Everyone laughs.

"Why not? Everyone else does. She can call me Donk and every time she does, I'll be reminded of you." He kisses her as if she's his granddaughter. Emma has to choke back a few tears.

"Brava, Ivy - that's a victory." Tom says to their daughter. Someone starts playing 'O Come All Ye Faithful' on the piano. "Oh, is it time to sing?"

"No. No, I do have something to say." He puts Ivy down and takes his place by the Christmas tree and addresses the guests. He sounds much more under control this time. "Ladies and gentlemen. Mr Branson, asked for your gratitude to me. Now, Her Ladyship and I should like to repay the compliment to him and his wife." He invites Tom and Emma to stand next to him, which they reluctantly do. "Both of them have helped Downton navigate the choppy seas of the modern world and brought it to the good place where it is now. But it is time for them to leave us. And while we regret their going, we wish them, Miss Ivy and Mister Michael well in their new life." He sounds choked up. "So, let us give a round of applause as a send-off."

Everyone claps, and the music restarts. Cora, Mary, Billy and Edith come to join them by the tree as they sing.

O Come All Ye Faithful, Joyful and Triumphant,

O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem,

Come and behold Him,

Born the King of Angels,

O come, let us adore Him,

Christ, the Lord.

God of God,

Light of Light...

Out of the corner of Emma's eye, she spots Mr Bates sidling up behind where Anna is standing from the direction of the servants' door. As the others continue the song, he leans in and whispers to her. Anna almost jumps out of her skin, spinning. He leads her quickly to a quieter part of the hall. Emma grins before turning back to the song.

Lo, he abhors not the Virgin's womb,

Very God,

Begotten, not created,

O come, let us adore Him,

Christ the Lord.

——

A/N: This mammoth of a chapter is over!

The next chapter will cover some of the first few episodes of season 6 and Emma and Tom in Boston.

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#downton abbey

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jaxxs184 · 2 years ago

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I need an outlet to put myself out into the world. I've been locked inside my own mind for so long. Living unrealistic, unhealthy nightmare... Oh, I mean life. I've been destroyed and broken so many times by so many people. I've laid dormant in my den of safety, a space in which I can control. That control came at a cost, though. The cost of my mind. My sanity slowly slipped away year after year, day after day. I was broken to the point I was bleeding out in the dirt with no sign of the light. No one by my side. Empty and alone with only my death wishes comforting me to sleep. Death wishes so sweet they bring a tear to your eye. You're only human.

We can't help it. Escaping this cruel life. A constant for my entire life. Until the last year and a half. My world flipped upside down and spun around until I lost my bearings and self-control. So much, so fast all at once. A love interest opens me to a new world that can I benefit and learn from. A new world with so much undiscovered trauma laying in wait. I didn't understand just how deadly it was. Enduring that has been my eye opener to the fact that if you listen and pay attention, life speaks to you in lessons. Beautiful and strong messages that can cut to the core of your very being. I learned my lesson. Not listening to the messages life was giving me. Making me relive my own personal hell.

That Hell would never stop! Years and years of pain and torture because I didn't understand that life was teaching me. Teaching me to care for myself. Teaching me to love my past and learn from it. Teaching me that sometimes those demons are needed in life, that the goal is always kindness. It was all laid out in front of me, but I couldn't overcome my fears. I couldn't find the strength to pick myself up. My fatal flaw. Learned that one as well this year. I would rather save someone else because I viewed myself as unworthy to save.

Unworthy to save, huh? My decisions in my past made me believe that. I ran from my shadow, and I let it win without even knowing it. Years of blaming myself and others for where I was at. All it took to change my life was information, though. Knowledge. Learning and applying. Makes it easier day by day. I wish I knew that when I was younger. If I had the hunger I had now, back when I was younger, I would have gone so far in life.

You can't blame your past life? No. I can blame the people who made my life Hell on purpose, though. I never blame those people. I never try to blame anyone. I need to, though. People need to be held accountable, right? Manipulation and control at its finest! Hahaha. Evil people do evil things. Yet they still cry out to live in the light. Little bit Yan and Yang for you. The Yin and Yang. It's such a beautiful ideology. It helped me understand people a little bit better. Gave me grounding, balance between my light and dark. See when people look at the Yin and Yang as two different beings supported by each other. Both are different on the outside, yet the result is the same inside of those beings. Well, when you look at it like that, that seems correct, right? It's the way we look at them as two separate beings. It's one being. A being with conflict inside of them. Always a right and wrong. Evil, death fighting against love and life. At least, that's the way I understand it.

Please understand that this is not a cry for help. Just questions and statements to help me understand my reality. I hope you enjoyed this read, even if it hurt. Feedback is appreciated.

#mental health #building yourself

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worksinprogress1 · 2 years ago

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“Well?” Lysandre asked once N woke up.

N took a moment to recover. “Yep, you’re completely loyal to Giovanni,” he said, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Alright. Now, N. Do tell me if there’s anything you need to settle in around here. Anything at all.”

“Got it,” N said, already on the way out.

Three down, two to go, N thought to himself as he made his way to Stage 2. He couldn’t believe that so many people- nine from his own region- were willing to sell out the world like that. But then, considering how Team Flare thought of everyone else and how they were apparently accepted in Kalosian society, maybe it wasn’t surprising. And the fact that Lysandre thought N would join him readily… maybe it was fairly normal for humans to be that selfish. Regardless, N had to stop their plan.

There was only one way to find out how, and that was through the two remaining admins. Once N arrived in Stage 2, N asked one of the scientists where Cyrus might be and received a door number from them. The door in question was solid metal and locked tight, and N could hear the buzz of electricity from behind it. He slid his key card through the lock and opened it.

On instinct, N rushed in, slammed his fist against a red button on the wall, and, as the glass barrier descended and the jellyfish began to approach him, reached out his arms for it.

“It’s okay. Come here. I’m getting you out of here,” he told it in the gentle voice he’d used on many hurt and nervous Pokémon in the past.

A man in what resembled a welder’s mask grabbed the Pokémon, threw it back into the torture chamber, and pushed the button, once again separating the Pokémon from them with a glass barrier.

The man turned his attention to N and took off the helmet, revealing spiked blue hair and a hard, stern, angular face. N recognized him instantly from Maxie’s memories- he’d found Cyrus.

“Do you know what that is?” Cyrus asked. His voice was calm, but his gaze froze N solid.

“No,” N answered.

“That is a nihilego,” Cyrus explained. “They have a tendency to brainwash anyone they come into contact with. If I hadn’t intervened, it would have been curtains for your sanity and free will. Where is your protective equipment? And how did you get in here?”

“Wait,” N interjected as he dug out the paper with Giovanni’s signature. “I need to do a loyalty test on all the admins. Boss’ orders.”

Cyrus took the piece of paper and read it before returning his attention to N. “We’ll meet at the entrance after dark tonight and perform the loyalty test on the beach,” he stated.

N looked to Cyrus’ face for some clue that the strange request had been a joke, but found none. “We can do it here. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“I’m your superior. If I told you to perform the test in Kalos, it would be your imperative to book us a flight. Now leave.” He left no room for question. N left without another word.

“Can you show me what all that is about?” N asked the orb pool. “And anything else that would help me to bring down this operation.”

A series of orbs rose from the pool, and the first hit N’s forehead.

---

Garchomp, stop him!” Cynthia shouted desperately.

Garchomp sprung into action lightning-quick, aiming its claws for the face of the would-be God.

Destruction had always been an essential stage of Cyrus’ plan, and it never could have been a clean, bloodless process. As he stared upon the bloodbath he’d planned for but never quite imagined, the weight of responsibility fell on his shoulders. He had to make his perfect world. He had to create something that would make all of this pain and harm worthwhile.

At least they won’t suffer anymore.

This was it. His blank canvas on which to craft a better world. It felt like his heart might beat out of his chest. Was that physical stress from the red chain, or just giddy excitement?

Where do I begin? Should I recreate my commanders now so that they can bear witness to the creation of the new world? Or should I wait on creating life until it is already perfect?

WHA- WhAHGT HAVE YOU Do-ONE?! it screamed at him telepathically.

Cyrus tried to answer, but he was as scrambled as the creature looked. He was impotent to do so much as speak, let alone use his powers.

Maybe half a minute later, Cyrus felt himself being pulled out of the void. And then everything went black.

When Cyrus woke up, he was in a hospital bed, the boss of Team Rocket was sitting next to him.

“Good morning,” Giovanni said casually. “You must be confused. Don’t worry. I’ll explain what’s going on. You see, you took control of Dialga and Palkia in your universe, tore it atom from atom, and started to recreate it. Thing is, when you destroyed this world, the Distortion World was also affected. Giratina dragged you there with the last bit of its strength. If it weren’t for me dragging you out of there, you would have glitched right out of existence. You were unconscious for over two days, but we ran tests in the infirmary, and it looks like you’ll be as healthy as a horsea. No lasting effects aside from occasional disorientation.”

Cyrus nodded and sat up.

“So. You have no money, no Pokémon, no nothing," Giovanni continued. "You’ll be working for me for a while, if you’re useful. Can you still use your reality-warping powers?”

Cyrus hesitated. Did he really want to advise Giovanni on his evil deeds?

“This is just a test, I already know the answers,” Giovanni assured him. “I have plenty of people to tell me how to take over the world.”

Giovanni smiled. “And if I wanted to kill billions without leaving a mess?”

“Only Arceus, or Dialga and Palkia, could erase people without a trace like that.”

“And if I wanted to brainwash almost everyone else? Give me detail. Tell me how I would do it.”

“The Sinnoh lake guardians could be used for that if you found a way to amplify their powers. And you would need to acquire them to control Dialga and Palkia anyhow.”

“Last question: what Pokémon do I use to make people immortal?”

“Xerneas.”

“Excellent. You’re as sharp as ever. I’ll be real with you, Cyrus. Your knowledge of and ability to take control of legendary Pokémon is useful to me, but our goals are unreconcilable. I want to take over the world, you want to destroy it. But, I’ve visited many universes and learned about many iterations of you, and I have a deal to offer. You see, most iterations of you were resolute to the bitter end. Some decided against your goals and embraced emotion, kindness, and companionship. But a few abandoned their goals when faced with the right temptation.”

“What are you proposing?” Cyrus asked.

“Rest. Simple, selfish, solitude. I know you’re tired of doing this- fighting to give people what you think they’re too ignorant to know they need, while they obstruct you every step of the way. Whether you help me or not, Team Rainbow Rocket is going to take over the multiverse. You can’t stop us or restart your team because you have nothing but what I decide to give you. But you don’t have to join us for inter-dimensional conquest, either. Here’s the deal: you help us capture and use legendaries until we’ve taken over this universe, and I’ll arrange to have nice place built for you far from any free person and give you some brainwashed drones to do your bidding. It might not be your perfect world, but you could pretend it is. And since we’re capturing Mespirit, I could destroy your capacity for emotion, too, if you'd like. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Allow me a moment to think,” Cyrus requested.

“As you will.”

Cyrus got up and faced the wall opposite to Giovanni. The mere idea that his resolve could be so weak as to crumble under temptations like solitude or companionship disgusted Cyrus to his very core. Perhaps Giovanni was lying. Regardless, if such a pathetic version of himself had ever existed, he died the second he’d witnessed the bloodbath necessary for his plan. He needed to get back to his own universe and finish it, recreate and complete the people he destroyed. He could simply communicate that to Giovanni- sending him back would probably be effortless for him. But that assumed that Giovanni would make good on his promise, and it would force Cyrus to witness the destruction of another world.

Giovanni grinned, and they shook hands. “I’m glad we can see eye to eye. And Cyrus?

“Hm?”

“Thanks for the ideas.”

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enokvirkow · 2 years ago

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rebelichor:

Ariadne’s eyes widened. There was no violent reaction, no unpredictable movement… she simply lowered even more-so, seemed to melt in place on the floor of the church.

He would save her?

Sinners were unkind. They didn’t understand their ways, and they wanted to take from them. The Sherriff regularly caught meddling outsiders, the worst of them were too far gone to be cleansed, they sought only to taint Hope with wickedness.

But this man… perhaps it was a trick. Perhaps he was a very, very good liar. He didn’t seem unkind.

And he knew a lot about them.

Almost too much. That fact would have tipped her over the edge into another outburst, had he not uttered something that needed correcting. Something that had been ingrained into all of them, and Ariadne the perfectionist that she was simply had to correct him.

“It’s — no, you’re wrong! The sacrifice it — it’s to deliver our pain to the almighty!” Her tone was raised, and the sweeping gestures of her arms seemed erratic. “The sacrifice has to be willing. Our corn, it — the sacrifice will make the almighty feel how we suffer, and we will be saved — but I — I failed — my sin is doubting the Father.”

The rambling explanation would have made little sense to an outsider, even if they had tried to follow along. It sounded like insane ramblings from a woman who was better off locked up in a mental health ward.

Ariadne held her head then. Her voice lowered to a whisper, repeating “forgiveness, I must ask forgiveness” like a prayer. She seemed almost lost to the ramblings when the light of a car streaked inside the church. Someone was parking outside. Enok’s faithful congregation was about to gather, where two drugged-up teenagers had gone on a rampage and pulled down all of the false imagery.

She sounded insane, yes. But he couldn't fault her that. Everyone who was in the claws of the Seeds was insane. It was how they operated. They stripped a person of sanity and safety. Ruled by fire and fear. Brainwashed them from a young age...

So Enok remained calm, even if he felt like screaming at her and shaking some sense into her. He had to save them from running back.

"It is good to doubt the Father. A good Father would listen to any doubt and know how to solve them instead of calling it a sin and dishing out punishment. You mustn't ask for anything. If you feel like you failed the almighty - it's actually your Father who failed you."

The sudden lights had Enok perking up.

Fuck.

Looking at the two twins and then the chaos around them... Enok knew he had no way of hiding the chaos in time. Probably not even the twins. If he grabbed them violently now and shoved them into the backroom, they'd likely flip the fuck out.

And lies like that had short lifespans.

Hiding them was too risky. They wouldn't sit still for an hour for sure. Calling off the sermon would raise suspicions, too.

Well. It wasn't like this here was like any other church out in the countryside.

"It's okay. It's fine. You have nothing to be afraid of, I will protect you.", he tried to calm the twins as he grabbed for the altar and pulled himself up on it. Damn. That guy had gotten him good with that swing. Groaning a little, Enok tried to pull up his robes and shirt, turning his back to the twins. Revealing the startings of the Cross Tattoo on his own back. Though it was marred with thick red scars below it.

"I ran, too. I am just like you. You are just like me. I ran from Hope. We are the same. I can show you how to be safe. Just, stay calm. No one will hurt you. I swear."

It was a risk, but one he had to take. Either now they would trust him a bit more in shock... or they would try to bash his skull in with one of the candleholders.

Pulling his attire back into place again, Enok turned around just in time for the first two to step into the church and stop surprised at the sight of this all. The young priest was quick to step around and in front of the lost twins, as if he needed to shield them.

Fucking hell. He could count his lucky stars on those two being the first two visitors. Mrs Gainsborough and Mr Caelum. He was a wary, silent man mostly. But she was heartfelt and good. And she easily could move him to do what she wanted. So Enok smiled at them with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders. They had arrived a little early. There was still time to at least take care of Ariadne before the mass came.

"Good evening... I am sorry. I fear today's sermon will be a little different... I won't call it off. I never have. I stand by my words to always hold one. We will just have to adjust a bit today. Seems like God led two lost souls here and... well, the effects of some substances are unpredictable. Mrs Gainsborough... I barely dare to ask, but I know you have experience with tending to wounds. Would you happen to have some bandages in your car with you? I will do the work, of course. I just lack the materials..."

#rebelichor #AU | Hell is coming with Me

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voidcat · 2 years ago

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Don't be shy. Be insane about your interests like the rest of us. SPEAK 🗣️ 🎤‼️

Last time I did it with CSH I got called a furry…..

SO LOOK ik technically the whole band and members are built on a story like Gorillaz and ykno what? that makes it even better easier less more shameless! Ive reached a point where I just wanna bully the fuck outta those crusty old men then go out drinking w the ghouls. I want terzo to sing “cant you see that you’re lost without me” in a soft smooth low voice and just stare at him w a resting bitch face like ‘wow this helps u get some?’ ‘Is this supposed to be ur impression of a yandere bc it sucks’ ‘oh and go look up what a skull looks like while u r at it that make up hurts my eyes’. I want to refuse him, I want to punch him and make his other eye white as well just like sister imperator did I want him carnally I need to step on his groin w high heels and watch as he squirms begs in Italian. I need to see it for myself if all those puns and gestures on stage are bc he’s a sad little virgin loser or bc he Knows how to use these fingers and hips. Oh and those god awful skull face paints stay ON the appeal of the crusty old men is stored in the kids bday party facepaint too. I’m not religious I wasnt even a Christian before I jsut want to join their stupid clergy for the fun and hot nuns and maybe steal some of the popes’ clothes. also I’d allow the keytar playing ghoul to break my back but that’s a talk for another day

Also on another note….. having knowing a lawyer in my life makes saul’s scenes all the fucking better I also need to go and try that heels thing on him too and maybe more. awful tv commercial bench ad lawyer man in tacky suits WHERE SRE YOU

#id rather be caught dead than call any of them ‘papa’ or ‘pope’ tho #a stupid silly nickname like Eme or idk just emo kid rat man etc etc the list goes ON #i need to be locked up for my own safety and sanity #IM SORRY DAN U SAID TO GO INSANE AND THSTS WHAT U R GETTING I DIDNT EVEN MESN FOR THRS TO BE THIS LONG #and Jane too… acting hot and cold and dressed up in one oversized tshirt and nothing else at home I want us to ruin each other #answered #dan !!

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yanderes-galore · 2 years ago

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So i was thinking on some marvel villains and i had some options, but the one who i wanted the most for concepts was Victor Von Doom aka Doctor Doom.

I am very new to the comics, especially Fantastic Four, so I did research through videos and Wiki to learn about him. Let me know if I got the character right! Writing for him was actually pretty fun once I listened to his backstory.

Yandere! Victor Von Doom Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Stockholm syndrome mention, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Murder mention, Violence mention, Threats, Forced relationship.

- Doctor Doom is extremely intelligent, strong, and determined.

- To some he comes off as evil, to others he is a hero.

- He thinks he's doing the right thing even if he isn't.

- Doctor Doom would be Delusional, Manipulative, Overprotective, Obsessive, and Forceful at times.

- He had to isolate himself from love, warmth, and humanity in order to achieve what he has but he probably still yearns for it.

- Doom probably feels what he's doing for you will keep you safe and happy, even if he has to trap you in a room or with some sort of gadget.

- He has a little bit of a savior complex due to what he's been through and wishes to achieve.

- He's also willing to do whatever he needs to complete his goal.

- You can either love him or hate him when he's obsessed, it doesn't matter all that much to him.

- Doom is passed the days where he can live comfortably and warmly alongside someone.

- Now if he wants to keep you he's willing to do whatever he can to make it happen.

- Even if it sacrifices sanity, happiness, and the lives of whoever stand in his way.

- Doom would be very delusional in his obsession.

- He's convinced holding you hostage and keeping you out of the public eye is for your own safety.

- He claims he loves you but you have trouble believing it when he keeps you locked away and refuses to allow others to talk to you.

- Barely anyone knows about you once he takes you, Doom plans on keeping it that way too.

- No one can take you from him, not even his greatest rival, if they don't know about you.

- Doom's also manipulative and charismatic.

- It would be easy for him to decieve the common people even if they did know about you

- No one will believe you when you say your relationship is forced if they are followers of him.

- Perhaps a hero will, but Doom doesn't allow you anywhere near the Fantastic Four or Avengers.

- He may be calm and collected but he secretly is paranoid you'll be taken.

- This paranoia makes him overprotective of your safety.

- He wants to depict himself as your savior and lover, even if you cry against him in fear.

- He acts caring and loving even if it comes off twisted.

- The little humanity he has is not enough to make you trust him.

- He's obsessive over you, like he's trying to find warmth from you that he can't get anymore.

- He's cold and unable to feel your warmth, yet he keeps you locked up and forced to love him anyway.

- While Doom is patient, he can only go so far.

- If Stockholm Syndrome doesn't set in or you continue to fight him, Doom may need to force your compliance.

- He doesn't feel he's the bad guy for wanting to make everyone happy and safe, including you, the one he loves.

- Even if to you, he's as bad as they come.

- "You do understand that my goal is to keep you safe, yes? Then you'll be happy in time... we just need to wait."

#yandere marvel #yandere marvel comics #yandere doctor doom #yandere victor von doom

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years ago

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Broken trust, pt.6/finale

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five

Summary: Inside the fold, Y/N and the Darkling face off.

Warnings: angst, fluff sprinkled on top, indicating smut

========================

When she was a child, Y/N feared the darkness. Every night she would lay awake with a candle by her side, too scared to close her eyes. She feared the unspoken horrors that occurred under the cloak of darkness, of one day finding herself in peril as well. The fold fueled such fears, especially when the boys in the orphanage would speak of the Volcra. She had heard the descriptions, the vile appearances and inhuman deeds they’re capable of. They haunted her when she closed her eyes, wondering if that’s what killed her parents.

Y/N still fears the dark, just of a different kind.

She fears the darkness that resides in humans, the kind that’s lurking under the surface yet remains invisible to the naked eye. At any point, the darkness could surface and once it does, it would swallow anyone who stands in its way. Perhaps that’s where her trust issues stem from, the corruption of human hearts. People are wicked, using everything, even love, for their selfish desires.

In truth, she should have seen it before.

Aleksander Morozova should have been a clear danger for her heart right from the moment they met in that dark tent where she wondered how anyone could be comfortable in such an environment. A powerful, handsome man with a silver tongue and a weakness for her had seduced her by simply paying attention. He looked at her like no man ever before – like she was the only one for him, a source of eternal sunshine.

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to be deceived.

A woman with trust issues and a fear of darkness fell in love with a man who was darkness incarnated. He embodied all she dreaded and yet she couldn’t see beyond the mask of perfection he always kept in place. A part of her wondered if he ever showed who he truly is in those intimate moments they shared.

Throwing his head back, Aleksander laughed. His chest rose with a sharp intake of breath before it quaked with a new laugh erupting from deep inside.

“It’s not funny!” She pouted, trying to glare at him as if the sound of his laughter didn’t make her feel like she’s in a dream.

“You know I adore that pout”, Aleksander smirks, pinning her against the wall.

Breathless, her lips part just in time for Aleksander’s to take advantage. He gave a low, throaty chuckle once her knees turned to jelly and she collapsed against the strength of his arm behind her back. He bent, put his other arm beneath her knees. His mouth never leaves hers as he carries her to the bed. He abandoned her lips only to press them on her neck and she couldn’t believe how easily he swayed her.

Before long she could bear no more kissing. She ached all over and she pulled his hair to better meet his mouth. She fastened on his lips hungrily, greedily, ready to feel him inside her, around her, to completely numb her senses.

“Aren’t we eager today”, he teased her as he slowed down, determined to drawl out every moment he had with her.

“I can either be angry with you for laughing at me”, she trails off, her eyes flickering to his lips. “Or you can make me forget about the poor Grisha I flashed in your map room.”

Growling, he inhales sharply, “As amusing as it was to see you both scream, I prefer when you scream for me when we are alone.”

Rolling her eyes, she huffs, “I wanted to be spontaneous! How was I supposed to know someone else would be in the room?”

He picked up a lock of her hair from across her neck and held it up, letting the dim light of the fireplace play though the strands. He held it to his nose, then to his lips.

For the first time he could ever remember, he was completely content.

“What do you want us to do?” Ivan asks, finding the change in his general terrifying. He could see the Darkling is enraged, losing control and a Grisha powerful as he is could be lethal in such circumstances.

“You’ll do nothing”, Aleksander snapped as he mounted his horse. “I will go after her.”

He looks to his loyal Grisha with narrow eyes, aware he’ll return undoubtedly changed by whatever transpires inside the fold. Whether he returns with his Sun Summoner in hand or with her body in his arms, the Darkling would be different.

During his time with Y/N, Aleksander relied on her for happiness he long forgot about. He held onto her for as if she was all he had and she still abandoned him. They all do so once they see how far he’s ready to go in order to protect those he loves – his people….and her. He would have done anything for her.

This is his kingdom, but she’s not his queen anymore.

“We shall await for further instructions at the camp.”

Nodding, Aleksander turns away from them with a dark look on his face. For the first time since he created the fold, he will step inside and he didn’t know who would emerge victorious. If he dies, he won’t be around to care, but if she does? He was sure he will never be whole again.

He kissed the corner of her mouth boldly, waiting for a sign of resistance. Her hands pushed weakly against his shoulders but even at his slight touch, her eyes closed in surrender.

Seeing her so, Aleksander smirked before he kissed her cheek, her ear lobe. Then, as she gasped for breath, his mouth came down on hers. His tongue sweetly touched the tip of hers and she drew back, startled. He smiled at her as if he understood how strange such affection is to her.

“Someone will see us”, she whines.

Shrugging, Aleksander’s smile grows wider, “Let them see.”

“Don’t you have a reputation of a hardass to preserve?” Her lips press into a thin line as her eyebrows rise, tantalizing him.

His eyes are nearly black as he pulls her to him again. He ran his tongue along her lips, touching the inner corners especially. She parted her teeth for him, desperate for a taste of him. He was better than the richest honey; hot and cold, soft and firm. She explored his mouth as he had explored hers, no longer shy or reserved with him.

Parting in desperate need of a proper breath, he looks at her rosy, swollen lips with complete resignation.

“My reputation means nothing to me when you’re with me. You are what I want my reputation to be.”

Panting, Y/N felt like her lungs would explode. She had been running from the edge of the fold, deep into the darkness she once feared. She ran because she wasn’t sure if Aleksander was furious enough to disregard his own safety by following her inside.

Lips quivering, she pulls out the flask Mal packed for her. Taking a sip, she frowns at the watered down taste of alcohol. She made it clear she wanted nothing but water, yet Mal disregarded her wish. Shaking her head, she smiles anyway. If Mal was with her, she’d thank him for the liquid courage. She’d have agreed to a bottle of whiskey now, lost in the dark.

Swept away in her thoughts, she gasps at the growling in the distance. Her heart nearly stops as a dark, looming shadow passes above her. She whips around as the growls come from behind her as well.

She passed sixteen markers, but she hoped to get to the eighteenth. She planned to get as close to the middle as humanly possible, but wasn’t this just it? If she kept going, nothing could guarantee her safety and she was deep enough inside the fold to at least try.

Every night she laid awake in the past year was spent with her strengthening her light, her control.

This was it – she could do it.

She had to do it.

Releasing a shaky breath, Y/N folds her hands before her. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath as she parts her hands at the palms.

“I wouldn’t do that”, a painfully familiar voice sounds and her eyes open wide.

“Or you’ll kill me?” She laughs, unable to stop herself. It’s a laugh made from pure anxiety and hurt, one that made her feel like she’s mad. Her habit of laughing when she feels like she’s got nothing left to lose came rarely; the first time it happened was when she learned her parents have succumbed to the very fold she’s in now. She reckoned this would be the last time.

“I don’t want to but, if you do not submit to me –“, Aleksander starts, coming closer slowly as if she was a doe and he the hunter. Every sudden move could frighten her and he didn’t want to face what happens in that case.

“Kill me if you must but I will not submit to you, or any man who wears his crimes like crown jewels!”

Raising her voice had drawn the Volcra, the growling growing louder.

"Is it so wrong for me to want to save you?" Sniffling, Y/N swallows thickly. She couldn’t cry anymore, there were no tears left to cry. She’s dry, inside out. “Things could have been different, you know? You didn't have to fall so far.”

Lifting his chin, Aleksander took a step further in her direction. Catching the slightest shake of her head, he pauses, arms raised in mock surrender.

“You made me love you”, he speaks through gritted teeth, “To depend on you.” He clenches his jaw, his patience wearing thin. “Now you’re trying to take the last piece of my sanity with you.”

“You don’t have to do this”, she tries meekly, “We can still be magnificent. Be the man I fell in love with, please.”

“And then what? We’re supposed to play house while they’re killing our people?!” Aleksander spat, barely holding himself back. “They wouldn’t stop until they kill you right before me and any children we might have!”

Eyebrows knitted together, Y/N’s mouth opens at the words spoken. There was a moment when Y/N realized she’d misinterpreted her darling Darkling’s actions, his words, his expressions from the moment they met… as if he’d been speaking a language she couldn’t understand… that moment was the moment her heart broke…She could hardly speak in her shock when she learned he had lied to her, but this shockingly defining moment was much different than that first moment.

“Children”, she breathes out as a smile forms on her lips, one he found confusing.

All this time, Aleksander had been using the fold as a way to protect his people and yet, he failed to realize it is exactly what they need to destroy.

“We don’t need the fold”, her smile widens, “You are the fold, my darling Darkling and I am your Sun.” Her lips quiver, her entire body trembles and she still comes closer to him without fear. “With the two of us, we can create and destroy this fold anywhere in the world and today is our chance to demonstrate our power to all those who’d dare to defy us!”

Lips parting, he shakes his head. “What are you saying”, he sneers, still angry at her for defying him.

“I’m saying it doesn’t have to be one way or the other”, she chuckles in disbelief, “We can both destroy the fold and win this war. Every war.”

The growling is near, close enough for the hair to stand on the back of Y/N’s neck.

“Don’t”, he orders as her hands touch, “Don’t you dare!”

Shakily lifting her head, Y/N smiles, "I love you".

Before he has time to comprehend the weight of her words, his world was set aflame by a blinding light exploding all around him.

She screamed out as a bright light emerged from her entire being, enveloping her like a lover’s embrace. It is the kind of brightness that enchants the eyes to open all the wider as it warms the skin.

She never felt the warmth like this, not even when Aleksander’s lips gave her breath or when his arms gave her a reason to believe in him. This warmth is different, like the sun had incorporated itself into her soul and is finally shining through.

She looks to her hands, opening the fists that glow an ethereal light force she never experienced. Her light is like sunlight, it comes as woven strands, free and united, and flowing as it reveals and solidifies, making the world of nightmares around them into something so beautiful.

Her eyes meet Aleksander’s dazed gaze, her smile wide but his lips are set in a firm line.

She could feel her soul ripping as she pushed the light further from them, toward the edges. The pressure in her head grew, erasing the smile from her lips. Her legs barely kept her standing as she stumbles. She could feel a wet liquid running from her nose to her lips, the metallic taste making her eyes widen.

“You’ll kill yourself if you keep this up!” Aleksander shouts, trying to make her see sense but she shakes her head.

“I have to do this! For us!”

He could see a vein pulsating across her forehead, the blood gushing from her nose and it slowly became clear to him – he might not have been able to kill her, but seeing her like this convinced him he doesn’t have to. She’ll do it all on her own.

Reaching for her, his hands wrap around her wrists firmly. “I love you too”, he rests his forehead on hers, amplifying her power. He could feel her smile for a split second before she closed her eyes.

Gasping for air, she felt her insides burning and before she could stop herself, Y/N’s bloodcurdling scream echoed in the fold, effectively stopping his heart in fright.

As her scream dies down, Y/N goes limp in Aleksander’s arms.

Her light disappears, another one taking its place as he lowers to his knees, holding her close to him. Looking up, he almost cries as the blue skies above shine a light on his face.

“You did it”, he croaks, shaking her slightly. “Solntse? Solnechnyy svet?!”

Unmoving, Y/N laid in his embrace as if she had simply fallen asleep, but Aleksander knew she was hanging by a thread.

“Lyubov’?” His voice breaks the self-imposed sternness, his fingers clutching the fabric of her kefta…He didn’t even realize she kept it.

She must have put it on inside the fold, he realized.

Now, in the light of day, he finally saw the black kefta he ordered to be made for her – black with golden traces of the light she brought in his life. It was fitting she’d be given powers of light for she was the embodiment of lightning, illuminating stormy skies he couldn’t navigate through. Not on his own.

“Wake up”, he whispers. “I need you”, the raspiness of his voice and the cracks are enough testimony for the break inside his chest.

“I can’t survive without you”, he bowed his head down, a choked sob escaping him.

“I love you.” Aleksander whispered into her chest, breaking down when she didn’t say it back. Y/N always chose to say ‘I love you’ instead of goodbye, explaining goodbye was the last thing she ever wanted to tell him and he understood now. He never wanted to tell her goodbye, but maybe that’s necessary too. Maybe life is about learning a better way to say goodbye, learn to let go of the ones you love with nothing but love.

“Aleks”, she tries but the words are stuck in the back of her throat as her need to breathe becomes direr.

“Saints!” He presses his lips as he looks up at her, just as breathless as he was the day when he first saw her. “What can I do? Tell me how can I help you?!”

“All this time I’ve blamed you”, her hand rests upon his cheek, “For pulling me into the dark”, she pauses, “But I was wrong.” Wetting her lips, she manages a small smile, “It was me who brought out your dark side.”

She averts her gaze, hating the vulnerability in her voice as he takes her hand in his, inspecting the ring he gifted her with a crooked smile.

“None of it matters now”, he rests his forehead on hers, “I love you with all I am and I never want to feel like this again.”

“Look at me.” He’s not asking, rather demanding and she can feel the subtle difference just as she can feel his warm hand wrap around hers.

“Gladly”, she chuckles as he helps her sit. None of her hate for him remained. Love…hate, it was always a fine line to walk on and she finally settled on a side – his side.

Saying I love you is the bravest thing he has ever done in his life, for it took every ounce of strength and courage to openly expose his feelings to the love of his life, to put his heart on the line time and time again after all the times she walked away. He knew he didn’t deserve her as she’s always been too good for him, but he swore he’d spend the rest of his life building himself up to be the kind of man she’d be proud of.

“I love you”, he kisses the palm of her hand, giving her enough time to say it back.

“And I love you. I promise you, we will be unstoppable. Together, hand in hand, nothing will dare stand in our way.”

As soul meets soul in a lover’s kiss, the two embrace in the midst of a desert made of ruin they would find a way to rebuild. Their story is far from over, but this time around, they’ll write it together – as equal parts of a whole.

Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @subjecta13-thefangirl @aquamariene-me @savannah-elliott @auggie2000 @daybleedsintonightfa11

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #general kirigan #kirigan x reader #aleksander x reader

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