#i've put too much into my son for it to get trampled over

[redtoondevils]

Giving my opinion, about Michael De Santa from GTA 5. So, from my experience, he is shown himself, time and time again as a flaw character.

He is a stuck-up flaw character, that at times his actions were despicable, and with his decisions that he made were unforgivable at times.

But, however, with my key points, of why I think it saves him from getting eliminated, or/loose everything is when he realizes how wrong he was. And he is in fact, aware of himself. I've seen a post on Reddit saying is Michael evil?

So...The full history of his background, is unknown. He did explain what he did, and we can put this into context, that he would willingly take the opportunity, regardless of what consequence, and risk he has. To what he will receive.

The rest of it, like what he said, was "Complicated." But then, with some of the hints inside his big house, there are some hidden family moments, that are not all terrible. But, I'll come back to it, with my reasons once I explain my meanings of it.

Back to Michael, his character boasts around, being selfish, egolistical, and greedy. He puts his safety before himself, than to his friends. He get's carried away, and forgets to fill in the Importance to the people that likes him, such as his family.

In truth, he actually attempted to take out Trevor, because he knows how unstable his friend is, and he was worried that he might harm his family, at some point.

When his plan foiled, he changed his name, and fled the snowy town, to a much sunny area, sitting in a house full of glory, carelessness, and cowardice.

When talking about Michael's character, as being Evil. My answer to that one, is No. While I say "No." I can definitely see why that is coming from.

But, if I were to paint this man in colors, you know when you say, nothing is ever, 'Black and white.' but when you mix it, it turns grey. And if you think about it, his house is mostly while.

The white walls, with a few grey spots, here and there. It turns shadowy, when it becomes night-time.

I think, he fit's around there, in the grey shade. Not too light, not too dark either. *Me realizing something.*-Not to mention, he does occasionally, wear that grey suit. When he does make decisions, he tends to become careless, a lot.

Though, when he thinks about his family, no matter how much drama he dealt with. He never left them. He could have, if he wanted to. But he didn't. His wife screamed at him, insulted him multiple times.

Would cause him to get stressed out, and snap at her. She is not Mrs. Perfect, either. His son, and daughter are very spoiled. They ignore him, mouth talk him, say hurtful things to him, such as "I hate you." Take his money, Jimmy sold his boat, and drugged him.

Then got him into even more trouble. Trample all over him, but despite all of that. By some miracle, he stayed patient with them. And agreed to stay with them. Once they found some family therapy.

When he met Franklin for the first time.... ....When he first introduces himself. Michael gave him a glance, and let him take a seat next to him. When he get's up again, he accepted Franklin right away as a friend, and was about to take him to the beer shop, that's until Jimmy called him up, and interrupted them both.

There had been times, where Michael had shown his loyalty quite a few times to be exact. And again, Franklin, and Trevor-Are more loyal, than what he is. Only Michael, his loyalty changes between taking opportunities, and caring for his family, he's got that mixture when he's fixed on the task.

So, when he comes up to rescue Jimmy, he helped save him from the Yacht. He accepted to save Tracy from that stalker, when she was standing out on the streets, when she was signing contracts. He was surprised about that, even though he's not a good father.

He poorly helps them , when he's mostly absent. However, he did pay attention, to her safety and gave her advice, on how to be more careful, out in a big city.

And told her to make better decisions for herself, for her to stay safe. He gives Franklin life advice, and checks on him when he passes out inside the FIB building in that mission, when you blow it up.

Except, when he forgotten about one team member, who has died when he celebrated, too early. He comes back to Lester, and checks back up on him, and owns up to his mistake, he did years ago, back at North Yankton.

He saves Tracy again, and even Amanda. And he even came swerving back for his family, when they were in a raid by the Merry weather. And while he was fighting back against those men, you see he had all sorts of emotional moments, between the girls.

One of them was Tracy, when she called out for her dad, she was in tears, and crying saying that she does love him. To the part when, Michael get's knocked down, and was at gun point with one grunt. When she was saying "Fuck...Fuck..." in a panicked voice.

Breaking down in tears. For him to call out, and reassure them that "It's going to be alright." Proves that the family doesn't really want him to die.

Then afterwards, he became furious, and upset with the situation.

Over in North Yankton, even though he once planned on getting rid of Trevor, he did say previously before, that he "Doesn't know." how to handle it, once Trevor has arrived.

That once they confronted each other, they weren't afraid of dying, but you can see the emotional connection the two of them have when they refused to shoot each other.

Then over with fresh meat, when Michael get's kidnapped, Franklin comes over to rescue him, before it's too late. And when he get's attacked, Michael shoots a gun man in the head, across the meat hooks, at a far distance and guided him out.

When choosing the ending affects the characters, and the story lines completely. If Franklin goes to kill Trevor, then he is going to go through another wave of deception, and with the fact that Michael agreed to help you.

Made Trevor's friendship stale, broken, and worthless. As he get's backstabbed once again from his first partner and crime, to now somebody, that he liked, and respected. Tossed away twice more than last time. And his trust is shattered.

Then shortly after, this is the part where Michael's character changes drastically, and does lead up into being evil. He becomes paranoid, and distant of Franklin, and shoved his delusions in his face. Which Franklin, ger's confused about, and felt offended with his response.

And Michael will get a phone call from Jimmy, asking him what did he do to Trevor, and when he tells him, Jimmy pauses, and get's stuck with what to say. Because he couldn't believe what his father, has done. And was not sure if he could trust him. Franklin, makes up the story. And that makes this relationship, even more deceiving.

If Franklin chooses to kill Michael, it is still sad. Because, that is the part where he finally get's his life together, he even sounded happy for Tracy to go to college. And he was very happy for her.

When he sees that Franklin is acting very strange, he get's confused with him, and asked "What? What is this?" Then, when he found out, that Franklin came to kill him, he get's this side of hurt. What's heart breaking, is the fact that Michael also thought of him as a son, so that made this scene to sting.

And this, battle between the two of them does not make sense so much. And it is, to be honest disrespectful, for Franklin to do that.

Not only that, even Franklin turns in a direction very coldly, just like how Michael was. Later, when he spoke to Lamar, he was talking in sentences to where he doesn't fully open to say what truly happened.

Michael's family then hates Franklin, and Amanda gives him a message, furious, but also terrified of him saying, that if he comes near her children, she will personally kill him.

And Jimmy will lose his trust in him. Their brotherly relationship is broken. Thus, Franklin becomes a monster.

If Franklin chooses option C. (Best fitting choice for the game.) Then, he'll get to keep both Trevor, and Michael together. And see them build up their friendship, and then also see a big change in Michael. Which I really do want to say this. Michael, the man that usually chooses something else, over his friends.

Really steps himself up, and saves Trevor. He volunteers to take on Stretch, when Franklin was in the middle of deciding if he should take Stretch on.

And lastly, Michael apologizes to Trevor, and say's that he is sorry, and that he admits that he screwed him over. Trevor, after a bit of doubt, accepted his apology.

And Michael just managed to save his friendship, with Trevor's. He does improve to own up to the wrong doings that he done. If he is truly evil, then he would not be doing that, unlike many other evil characters.

Who would just screw over the people they knew, by not owning up to it. That was the thing, that saved him from getting eliminated. He's the character that reminds me of a few other ones, that kind of ranges with their story. I picked these three, just because I know them, and their from the same company.

John Marston, Arthur Morgan. And Dutch Van Der Linde. John, because, at first as it turns out, he didn't feel close to Jack, he didn't want to, once he found out that he wasn't related to him. He probably felt shunned, and embarrassed of the boy.

But then also, because he probably felt some pain, after loosing his daughter, some time ago. So, he probably felt partly unsure, a with his connection. He was rude, and shooed the boy away, but then once after he get's kidnapped he has felt so bad about it. And ashamed.

This is something similar, to when Michael first came into his kids lives, I assumed, he let himself get carried away, and was not really there, for the most of their lives.

Though, we don't know how much of that really was going on, because of how selfish he was. But, then there are the family photos, in his house that shows, otherwise.

It looks like it wasn't so bad. It wasn't all like that. They looked happier, So I think in general, his behaviors weren't good. Yet, you can see that he was trying.

Arthur Morgan, once a cold blooded, ruthless killer that deliberately did things that are unforgivable. If it wasn't for the TB, he did say that it was this wake up call, that got him to change his perception of the world, and the people in his life. Even though, he can't fix it, but he surely redeemed himself, and strife to become a better, and honorable man.

Dutch Van De Linde, was once a respected man, and leader for his group. He was also Arthur's father figure, and teacher, that was in charge of making plans to do what he can to help support the camp, and collect resources to feed them, and keep them safe.

He is very intelligent, and when he chose to switch sides between Arthur, and Micah. Dutch appeared to have a centered mindset for himself, and Arthur, when he saw that happen couldn't believe his very eyes.

And felt disappointed, and disgruntled with his decision. It was not until later, that when Dutch came back to Arthur, he looked at him with his reflection of his dishonorable back turn. No different than that of Big smoke.

This was still sad, because he walked away feeling regret, and knowing he let down Arthur.

In my conclusion, you know he's this character that you are disappointed in, but I don't think it is enough to say, "Oh well...He deserves to die." Especially, coming from these characters. They did, so many things.

Yet, to take into consideration, he is aware of himself, when he admits that "I've done so many things, that I ain't proud of." That line is such a remorseful thing.

Among the other killers, I listed too. Fans love these 2 legends between Arthur, and John. But, when it comes down to Michael, there's another opinion.

This is coming from my opinion, the thing is, that even though this man is a cold blooded killer, that through out his life, he's been trying to make things right.

I don't think he's evil, and he has a duty to protect the family, that he's got. Because, that's the only thing that plays in his part, that keeps him going.

I hope you enjoy reading my full heart, confession about Michael. If I get any details wrong, this is only coming from my gameplay experience.

I just wanted to say, what I believe needed to be said, about his character. With the credit, that I thought about, and brought all together. So, you're welcome.

[jjmbbg]

It's you and me

➤ Jack is a newborn here.

➨ She opened her eyes, confused and not knowing where she was standing (lying down actually). She looked around the messy cabin, she didn't remember much from the previous afternoon let alone how she got there.

Everything was blurry, and there were only fragments of what happened.

She was sitting next to Susan when she had begun to feel an intense pain in her belly, which stopped the entire group. Several went into crisis because they were in the middle of the fucking road and they didn't know if there was a fixed place in the surroundings.

She remembers Dutch ordering who she thought were Sean and Lenny (surely it was them, those two were always together) to look around, then sending Arthur because they were taking too long.

She barely remembers John's voice comforting her, but also her slapping his hands and yelling things like "Look what you put inside me!"

But she didn't remember anything else.

From what she saw, they found a place where she could give birth to her baby, which she didn't know if he was a boy or a girl, or if it was okay, or where it even was.

She tried to get up, but couldn't and whimpered, drawing Susan's attention, who was sitting next to the baby a few meters from her.

ㅡ You woke up ㅡshe smiled at her.ㅡHow do you feel?

ㅡ How would you feel after expelling something the size of a watermelon out of your body? ㅡshe answered tired.ㅡ Although, I'm thirsty.

ㅡ I'll bring something for that, but first, ㅡshe said, carefully grabbing the small thing that was stirring in a blanket that Arthur had been in charge of obtaining a few months ago.ㅡ You have to see this beauty ㅡshe walked over to place the child in her arms.ㅡ It's a boy, by the way.

ㅡ Oh... ㅡAbigail whispered holding him firmly.ㅡ It's... he's cute ㅡshe smiled a little adjusting the blanket away from the baby's face.

ㅡ Do you want me to tell the rest that you're awake? Do you want me to find John?

ㅡ I don't think he really wants to see me.

ㅡ He was very worried about you when you were in labor ㅡshe smiled.

ㅡ It's hard for me to believe you, although well... it happens to me for having continued being a prostitute.

It hurt Abigail to accept that John doubted the paternity of the child in her arms, but she couldn't blame him. Sure, her hookups with Dutch, Bill, and Javier left a lot to be desired, but she was sure he was Marston's, and she didn't know how to convince John of that.

ㅡ Don't you want anyone?

ㅡ No, just... I'll stay with him... ㅡshe whispered, carefully watching her son's face.ㅡ And I still want water...

ㅡ I'll bring a glass right away.

When Abigail was left alone with the baby, she reached up to his face and caressed his plump cheek with one finger.

She was a little old to have a child, it sounds ironic, but come on, in 1895 everyone got married at 14 and had their children at 15, she was 18, she could practically be considered an old spinster.

ㅡ It's you and me, and the camp, and I hope John, together against the world ㅡshe whispered. The boy's eyes were slightly open in her direction.ㅡ Please tell me you're not hungry, I don't know how to do those mommy things... it's my first time, okay? I'll need time to get used to you and vice versa... well... what shall we call you? mhm?

She analyzed his face carefully.

The baby still couldn't stop looking at her, his huge orbs were glued to her face. He looked at her like she was an angel sent from heaven.

ㅡ You don't have the nerve to be called Dutch, that's for sure ㅡshe laughed at her own comment.ㅡ Oh... how pitiful I am sometimes ㅡshe complained to herself.ㅡ Mhm... John Marston Jr... yeah, maybe be... although it would be a bit confusing... two Johns?

"Why I'm talking to myself?" she thought.

ㅡ Jack... you look like a Jack... right, Jackie?

She rocked him a little, returning to caress his cheek gently.

ㅡ He doesn't understand a single word from you ㅡa male voice was heard at the door.ㅡ How do you feel?

ㅡ Like I've been trampled by a horse, and believe me, I know what that feels likeㅡshe replied softly.ㅡ What are you doing here?

ㅡ I'm coming to see my son, or so I think ㅡhe whispered as he approached. He took a seat on the edge of the cot that Roberts was resting in.ㅡ It's cute ㅡ he said, looking at the infant's face.

ㅡ No, I just wanted to take a look at him, you know... see if he looks like me.

ㅡ It is ㅡ the young woman smiled.ㅡ Do you wanna carry him?

ㅡ John... I already told you, he's your son.

ㅡ I can't be sure ㅡMarston sighed.

Abigail looked away, she wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing her cry or vulnerable.

ㅡ You already saw that I'm fine, and you already saw his face. You can go, I'll feed him.

ㅡ It's not like I haven't seen your breasts ㅡhe scoffed.ㅡ Me and... half of the camp.

ㅡ Shut up and go away.

ㅡ Well, well, as you order.

When John left the place, Abigail let out a heavy, almost painful sigh.

ㅡ Okay, Jackie... what were we up to?

Little Jack didn't understand why the eyes of who seemed to be his mother were reddish, he was a baby, he clearly wouldn't do it. But he made a small sound with his mouth, indicating he was hungry, or so Roberts assumed.

ㅡ Well... let's learn how to do this, shall we? ㅡshe smiled a little, sadly.

[josiahsterling]

when my time comes / forget the wrong that i've done / help me leave behind some reasons to be missed

TW: DEATH, BLOOD, KNIFE, INJURY, MENTIONS OF DRUG ADDICTION, PAST OVERDOSE

Josiah had gone back inside, feeling a little more level headed. In all, he'd say tonight was a success. The anxiety felt more like it came from the throng of people, not that small part of him that he knew would never quite rewire the same way again. That was something they'd talked about a lot back in rehab. This wasn't a choice he made, it was how his brain worked now. Recovery meant working every day to be the person he wanted to be. The son whose parents didn't worry about leaving alone, the brother that could be there, the uncle that could love that little girl like she was his own. Maybe...maybe the partner someone would want. Someday. That thought was more complicated. Him and Jamie were complicated. Always had been. Jamie was all in, from day one. Threw himself wholeheartedly at a boy who wasn't in the shape to treat anyone gently. And he'd come back to a man still trying to atone. He knew what Jamie wanted. He just...wasn't sure it was what the two of them needed.

That's the thought he's mulling over, absently stirring a Diet Coke, when the lights cut out. The reaction is instant. Total panic. He has to admit, he's spooked too. It's essentially pitch black in here, and with everyone running around, he can't just stay here unless he wants to get trampled. Can't stay. He needs to find...Jamie, Nell, Jesse, Danny, someone. He had to make sure they're okay. The foreboding sense he'd had all night, which up til now he'd chalked up to an unease at the way Jamie was acting, had reared up, and the longer he couldn't find anyone, the worse it got. "Jamie? Jamie!" He's trying to push past people, trying to see if he can make out the taller man in the crowd. "Jesse? Danny? Nell?" He's looking around, trying to find someone. He doesn't know what's happening, and he can't just worry about himself. It's not how he is.

Someone grabs him, and for a second, he thinks it might be one of them, and he doesn't even really care which one it is. Before he can fully turn to try to see them, there's a searing pain in his side. He screams, in surprise, in pain, in shock. He feels like he's moving in slow motion, but whoever's on him now decidedly isn't, and more pain shoots through him as they keep stabbing. He doesn't know how many. Could have been four, could have been forty. He doesn't know. Adrenaline's the only thing keeping him upright, and he tries to run once his head stops swimming, finding his limbs almost too heavy to move. The fabric of his shirt feels hot, sticky, and a feeling of revulsion washes over him when he tastes copper. He doesn't need the lights on to know it's blood. He can feel it seeping through his shirt, running down to his jeans, dripping onto the floor.

He's not actually aware of how far he's managed to get, the pain and the blood loss making him collapse. He just...lays there. He needs to get up. He needs to keep going. He can't lay here and die. He can't.

The house party had been his wake up call. It was some out of town thing, with people he barely knew. But their stuff was always good, so when they'd asked of course he'd said yes. He lost track of how much he was taking, downing a drink when it was handed to him and definitely not turning down the guy who'd been eye fucking him all night when he handed him a couple pills. He's not a lightweight. He'd be fine.

He woke up connected to machines, his mom and dad not even looking at him. When he tried to talk, his throat felt dry, pained. They had looked at him in something between alarm and relief, their eyes red. He didn't know what had happened. The last he remembered, a guy in bright blue eyeliner had flopped onto the couch he was on, putting his head in Josiah's lap. How--

He'd overdosed. On what they couldn't tell him until he remembered what he took or toxicology came back. His heart had stopped. He'd been dead. He felt like a cliche, coming home and realizing only now that this had gone too far, gotten too bad for him to just fix it himself. He had to...He didn't know yet, but he had to do something.

He has a similar thought now, even as his vision goes spotty. He has to do something. He's so close to one year. Three weeks. Twenty-four days, really, but close enough. Twenty-four days, and he's hit his goal. He's so close. Three hundred forty-one days down. Twenty-four to go. Twenty-four. He's so tired. He's cold. Someone's in front of him, and he flinches. Tries to tell them to leave him alone, don't hurt him. Help him. He needs help. He needs his mom.

They're trying to talk to him, trying to press against the wounds. He's vaguely aware of being lifted. His vision is swimming, fading in and out. He doesn't remember dying the first time. If this is what it is, it's...it's warm.

[spacecadetspe]

A snippet from last year…

Apr. 2, 2023

I've been exploring how deep my trauma really goes. I've discussed it at length with L and Phobetor, and it feels like repeating details just feels like rehashing the same pain over and over.

Basically, here's how it goes:

I'm very genuine in my relationships. I give my whole self, and I do it pretty quickly. But for those who aren't comfortable with that level of vulnerability, I get shut out, shut down, or abandoned. So it makes me feel like I ask too much of my friends and lovers, and start hiding my truths. This makes me come off as standoffish in my established relationships (like with X and K). And in spite of that, when the friendship or relationship comes to a close, I'm the only one left grieving. Because in every relationship, I can comfortably say I gave it my all. I reached all the way out, and what I got back was disproportionate. So in turn, I split myself into manageable pieces, which sucks. Those who know me realize I'm hiding the more substantial pieces of myself, which causes a vicious cycle of honesty > emotional shutdown > feeling abandoned > hiding more pieces of myself > friend asking me to reach back out again. Which is why I don't keep fake-ass friends.

But among my coping mechanisms is allowing those around me to have some semblance of autonomy, even dominance in their relationships with me. This includes something as innocuous as letting them decide on what they want for dinner, or in Fortitude's instance, letting him tell me when he wants to be intimate. I need to know that I'm not trampling on others' wants and needs while I get mine met.

Fortitude's response, initially, was to tell me he didn't want or need much, and that in the beginning, he saw this as a blow to the ego. I needed to know he wanted me? Wasn't his presence with me enough? Wasn't the fact that he moved here to be with me, that he cooked with me, that he bought my son clothes... weren't those things enough to prove he wanted me? He'd already given so much to me; why wasn't it enough? Why was it that I couldn't even make decisions on my own?

But when I broke it down for him, he realized that this was another trauma response, and that I was definitely willing to lift my own weight in the relationship... I just needed the guidance. I didn't need him to give anything more... I already see what he does for me and my mental health. I just need to know when I'm the problem, and when it's someone else's bullshit. Because I've been conditioned to believe that I'm the one who gets too close. I'm the one who's too much.

I don't need someone else's permission to make decisions... and as good as it felt to be lovingly dominated, to have someone like Phobetor giving me permission to be loved and adored, commanding me to take care of myself... In the end it might not be good for me. Because... one thing I definitely don't need is to sacrifice my autonomy for someone else.

So... it might be something I can indulge in once in a while, like a rich dessert. But overall, I need to be making my own decisions and taking accountability for what I want. I can be considerate of others, but I don't have to let them take complete control.

Being overwhelmed hasn't helped. Having a decision as small as whether or not to take my rain boots home from Mom's has suddenly become an excruciating weight. I told Fortitude I was just exhausted, but part of me was glad he called me out.

I sobbed. I was crying all morning. It felt great to get all that emotion off my chest and finally resolve it.

It's another weight to lift, and I get that. I have to make my own decisions. But... it's a step toward healing. Toward being better.

Fortitude says that once I have a "tribe" it'll be easier. I'll be able to put my passions into specific boxes, so to speak, so that no vessel ever overflows... and then when I come home, I can be fully vulnerable and have a safe place to be everything I am.

What a life that will be...

[founderscouncil]

quiet reminder that i’ve been writing jed since the s2 hiatus so whatever the show says his backstory is will largely be ignored unless it fits with my already existing backstory for him. 

[milkytheholy1]

Apocalpytic Love: Chapter 29: Robin Hood

A/N: Sorry I didn't upload last week, I just had so much work I had no time for writing!

tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. AL series links

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

They didn't waste any time in going after this Robin Hood fellow, already situated on a rooftop of some mindless corporation building left to rot by the fatcats that used to own it. Below them was a trap, set by the leader, who waited for his prey to come out of the shadows. Casey and (Y/N) were in play, acting to the best of their ability to lure out this con.

"Oh my back, guess I'll have to put these supplies for the Purple Dragons down on the floor while I care of my broken back." Casey groaned out, the empty cardboard box in his hands was gently placed on the floor. You rolled your eyes at his obnoxious behaviour, well it's not like you couldn't make it any more obvious, "I too will put my box down, unguarded, to help you with your broken back."

The moment the box was placed down you and Casey quickly walked away, the hockey player still keeping up the act before ducking behind the brick wall.

Raph folded his arms over his chest, fingers picking at the tattered fabric of his belt "Who would be stupid enough to go for that?" Raph had doubts about the plan from the very beginning, still arguing that they shouldn't be helping the Purple Dragons in the first place. But what could you do?

Not long after, a sound caught the brother's attention. Peering over the edge it had seemed someone was caught upside down in their basic trap. Leo stood beside Raph, eagle-eyed and with a smug smile gracing his lips. Raph caught his mocking glee and frowned further, "Not a word." he huffed out.

The group rejoined in front of the wiggling man, covered in a dark green suit, padded for his own protection and a black ski mask covering his face. Mikey jumped up from the back of the group, a proud smile on his lips and a small slither of rhythm shaking his body, "We got you, son!"

The man stopped struggling and sighed, Raph gave him a once over, "So you're this famous Robin Hood that's been stealin' from the Purple Dragons, huh?"

"What are you? They're henchmen? And I don't steal." he made clear, fingers clenching against the rope restraints. Casey poked his head above Raph's shoulder, something told you he did this a lot back in the day, "Whatta ya call it then, cause it sure looks like stealin' to me." he smirked.

"Ugh, I wasn't stealing!" the man growled out. Leo pushed past the others, holding his hands out in peace, "Ok, ok, calm down everyone. Now tell us, who are you really? The Robin Hood gimmick is fun and all but why are you actually doing this?"

"I- I want to help, ever since I saw what those bastards were doing to this city, the little guy got trampled on. I wanted to support those who needed it and if that meant steali- borrowing from the Purple Dragons then so be it."

"Wow, you're a real superhero." you spoke up, sarcasm dripping from your lips. Much like Raph and Casey, you weren't amused by this clown. The man tried his best to swivel around to get a better look at you, his eyes widening under the mask, a sort of familiarity lay hidden in them. He then began to shake around violently, either he hated you or loved you, it was hard to tell. Leo looked from the man to you and back, his gaze uncertain, all you could do was shrug.

"Hey you alright, man?" Casey asked, no real concern in his voice.

"Maybe all the blood's rushing to his head?" Mikey pointed out, silly smiling turning to a frown with sympathy. The next minute the man stopped, allowing his body to swing around on the rope, harsh pants clogging the individual holes of the knitted mask.

"You. I recognise you! You were there, I saw you!" he then shouted. You took cautious steps towards him, careful not to get too close, "What're you on about, I've never met you in my life."

"The riot, I- I was a scientist working in the labs when your gang came in and killed everyone I knew. Colleagues, bosses...friends. And for what? What did that little outbreak do? They either all got captured or died!"

You felt arms wrap around you, being pulled away from the fight, "Shut up, you don't know what you're talking about."

"I watched my best friend die because of your petty squabble. You rebels murdered him!"

You lunged at him, breaking free from whoever held you. You grabbed at his mask, scratching his face as you pulled it down. You didn't exactly recognise him, he had one of those every-guy faces. His eyes were red with tears, bone structure was pointed, no doubt to the lack of food and he had bruises and cuts littering his face; not to mention the fresh scratch you left down his cheek.

Leo stepped closer to you, his familiar warmth a lost comfort to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder but you resisted against him and looked towards the broken buildings, not yet you thought. Leo grimaced, missed by you, still, he turned his attention back to 'Robin Hood'.

"What are you doing with these supplies?"

"I already told you, I take from the rich and give to the poor."

"Okay wise guy, I'm just about starting to have enough of you." Raph growled out, cracking his knuckles as a form of intimidation. Leo ignored his brother's brash behaviour, instead, opting to talk the situation out, "Y'know the Purple Dragons want us to kill you. Says you been stealing their stuff is putting a damper on things."

"So what? You're gonna kill me for helping those who need it?"

Leo looked away torn, on one hand, they needed to know where the rebel base was. But on the other, this man was helping where he couldn't, didn't, and his morals were to protect. The leader in blue sighed, pulling out his katana, he made a slashing motion, the sound of the body hit the ground.

Blinking, the man looked up from the cracked concrete to see an outstretched hand. Leo placed his sword away, cracking a nervous smile, "If I let you go, you need to help us."

"How'd y'know I won't betray you?"

"Been there, done that. Besides, you're helping innocent civilians, seem's pretty heroic to me."

The man judged the three-fingered hand presented to him, though it wasn't nearly as weird as having a fly for your boss. Taking Leo's hand in a firm grip, the man reluctantly agreed, "Leonardo," the turtle spoke.

"Clint."

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 4

(Y/n)'s POV

We tear through the night along dark country roads. Wind slams against the Camaro. Rain lashes the windshield. I don't know how Mom can see anything, but she keeps her foot on the gas pedal.

Every time there is a flash at lightning, I look back at Grover sitting beside Percy in the back seat and for a few moments, I wonder if I'd gone insane, or if he is wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants. But no, the smell is one I remember from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo - lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

The only thing it seems Percy could say is, "So, you and my mom . . . know each other?"

Grover's eyes flit to the rearview mirror, though there are no cars behind us. "Not exactly," he says. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?" Percy asks.

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he adds hastily. "I am your friend."

"Um . . . what are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now," Grover answers.

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey -"

Grover lets out a sharp, throaty, "Blaa-ha-ha! Goat!" he cries.

"What?" Percy asks.

"I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter."

"Blaa-ha-ha! Some satyrs would trample you underhoof for such an insult!"

"Whoa. Wait. Satyrs. You mean like...Mr. Brunner's myths?"

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

"So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!" Percy says accusingly.

"Of course."

"Then why -"

"The less the two of you knew, and weren't together as much, the fewer monsters you'd attract," Grover says like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One was a hallucination, Percy. But it was no good. You started to realize who you are."

"Who we - wait a moment, what do you mean?" I ask, highly confused.

The weird bellowing noise rises again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever is changing us still on our trail.

"(Y/n), Percy," Mom says, "there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what? who's after us?" Percy asks.

"Oh, nobody much," Grover asks, obviously still miffed about Percy's donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

I let out a soft noise of disbelief and Mom glances over at me before yelling, "Grover!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?"

I try to wrap my mind around what is happening, but I can't do it. I know this isn't a dream. Even I, with a vivid imagination, could never dream up something this weird.

Mom makes a hard left. We swerve onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and 'PICK YOU OWN STRAWBERRIES' signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" Percy asks.

"The summer camp I told you about," Mom's voice is tight; she is trying for our sakes not to be scared. "The place you want to send you."

"The place you didn't us to go," Percy asks and I swallow thickly.

"Please, dear," my mother begs and just the desperation in her voice makes tears well up in my eyes. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're both in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut yarn," Percy says.

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover says. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means—the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to...when someone's about to die."

"Whoa. You said 'you.'"

"No, I didn't. I said 'someone.'"

"You meant 'you.' As in me."

"I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, you."

"Boys!" my Mom yells.

She pulls the wheel hard to the right, and I get a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid - a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.

Percy's POV

"What was that?" (Y/n) asks, fear creeping into her voice.

"We're almost there," my mother says, ignoring my sister's question. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

I didn't know where there is happened, but I find myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive.

Outside, nothing but rain and darkness—the kind of empty countryside you get way out on the tip of Long Island. I think about Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she'd changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. My limbs go numb from delayed shock. She really hadn't been human. She'd meant to kill me.

Then I think about Mr. Brunner...and the sword he had thrown me. Before I can ask Grover about that, the hair rises on the back of my neck. There is a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom! and our car explodes.

(Y/n)'s POV (Again)

I feel weightless like I'm being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same time, and my head slams against the dashboard.

Stars erupt before my eyes and I hear Mom yell, as if in a long tunnel, "Percy! (Y/n)!"

"I'm okay . . ." I hear Percy say.

I try to shake off my daze, as blood drips down into my eyes. The car had swerved into a ditch. Our driver's-side doors are wedged in the mud. The roof had cracked open like an eggshell and rain is pouring in.

Lighting. That is the only explanation. We'd been blasted off the road.

My head, feeling as though it was made of lead, I lift my head and it falls against the head-rest.

"Percy, (Y/n)," Mom says, "we have to . . ." Her voice falters.

My head lolls back, and in a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I see a figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it makes my skin crawl. It is a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player. He seems to be holding a blanket over his head; his top half is bulky and fuzzy, and his upraised hands make it looks as though he has horns.

I swallow thickly, "Who is -"

"Percy, (Y/n)," my mother interupts, deadly serious. "Get out of the car."

Mom throws herself against the driver's-side door. It is jammed shut in the mud; Percy tries his as well.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" Mom tells the two of us. "Percy, (Y/n) - you have to run. Do you see that big tree?"

"What?" Percy asks.

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof I see the tree that she means: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," my mom says. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"Mom, you're coming too," I say softly.

Mom's face is pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean.

"No!" Percy shouts. "You are coming with us. Help me carry Grover!"

"Food!" Grover groans, a little louder.

"He doesn't want me or Grover," my mother tells me. "He wants the two of you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But . . ." I start to argue.

"We don't have time. Go. Please."

"We're going together," I say, slamming my shoulder against the door.

Together, the three of us escort Grover, stumbling up the hill through wet waist-high grass.

Glancing back, I get my first clear look at the monster. He is seven feet tall, easily, his arms and legs like something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine. He wears no clothes except underwear; the top half of his body is so scary. Coarse brown hair starts at about his belly button and gets thicker as it reaches his shoulder.

His neck is a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and horns - enormous black-and-white horns with points you just can't get from an electric sharpener.

I blink the rain out of my eyes, "That's -"

"Pasiphae's son," Mom interupts. "I wish I'd known how badly they wanted to kill you."

"But he's the Min -" Percy begins.

"Don't say his name," she warns. "Names have power."

The pine tree is still way too far - a hundred yards uphill at least.

I glance behind me again.

The bull-man hunches over our car, looking in the windows - or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I'm not really sure why he bothered, since we're only about fifty feet away.

"Food?" Grover moans again.

"Shhh," Percy hisses. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing are terrible," she says. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

As if on cue, the bull-man bellows in rage. He picks up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raises the car over his head and throws it down the road. It slams into the wet asphalt and skids in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop; the gas tank explodes.

Not a scratch, I remember Gabe saying. Oops.

"Percy, (Y/n)," our mom says. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way - directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"How do you know all this?" I ask, fear creeping into my voice again.

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping the two of you near me."

"Keeping me near you?" Percy asks. "But -"

Another bellow of rage and the Minotaur starts tromping uphill.

He'd smelled us.

The pine tree is only a few more yards, but the hill is getting steeper and slicker, and Grover isn't getting any lighter.

The Minotaur closes in. Another few seconds and he'd be on top of us.

Mom must've been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover. "Go, Percy, (Y/n)! Separate! Remember what I said."

I didn't want to split up, but I have the feeling she is right - it's our only chance. I sprint to the left, turn, and sees the creature bearing down on me; his black eyes glowing with hate. He reeks like rotten meat.

He lowers his head and charges, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest.

The fear in my stomach makes me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing. So I hold my ground, and at the last moment, I leap to the side.

The bull-man storms past like a freight train then bellows with frustration and turns, but not towards me this time, towards Percy, whose standing in between my mom and Grover, and me.

We'd reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side, I can see a valley, just as Mom had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. But It is half a mile away; we'd never make it.

The bull-man grunts, pawing the ground. He keeps eyeing Percy, whose eyes are wide. I sprint towards my brother as the Minotaur charges at him. I dive forward, knocking Percy over as the horns were mere inches from his chest.

The bull-man lets out a roar of anger then eyes Mom, who was just setting Grover down in the grass.

He keeps eyeing Mom, who is now retreating downhill, back towards the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover.

"Run!" she tells me. "I can't go any farther. Run!"

But I stand there, frozen in fear, as the monster charges at her. She tries to sidestep, as she'd told me to do so, but the monster had learned his lesson. His hand shoots out and grabs her by the neck as she tries to get away. He lifts her as she struggles, kicking and pummeling the air.

"Mom!" I cry, stepping towards the monster.

She catches my eyes, which are welling with tears, and managed to choke out one last word: "Go!"

Then, with an angry roar, the monster closes his fists around my mother's neck, and she dissolves before mine and Percy's eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden form as if she's a holographic projection. A blinding flash and she is simply . . . gone.

"No!" Percy wails, collapsing to his knees.

Anger replaces my fear; newfound strength burns in my limbs.

The bull-man hunches over Grover, whose lying helpless in the grass. The monster hunches over, snuffling my brother's best friend, as though he were about to lift Grover and make him dissolve too.

I strip off my red rain jacket.

"Hey!" I scream, waving the jacket, running to the one side of the monster, Percy doing the same with his own red jacket. "Hey, stupid! Ground beef!"

"Raaaarrrr!" the monster turns towards me, shaking his meaty fists.

I had an idea - a stupid idea, but better than no idea at all. I put my back to the big pine tree and wave my red jacket in front of the Minotaur, thinking I'd jump out of the way at the last moment.

But it doesn't happen like that.

The bull-man charges too fast, his arms out to grab me whichever way I try to dodge.

Time seems to slow down as my legs tense. I can't jump sideways, so I leap straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, using it as a springboard, turning in midair, and landing on his neck.

How did I do that? I wonder. I didn't have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster's head slams into the tree, and the impact nearly knocks my teeth out.

The bull-man staggers around, trying to shake me. I lock my arms around his horns to keep from being thrown. Thunder and lightning are still strong; the rain is still in my eyes. The smell of rotten meat bringing my nostrils.

The monster shakes himself around and bucks like a rodeo bull. He should have just backed into the tree and smashed me flat, but I am starting to realize that this thing has only one gear: forward.

Meanwhile, Grover starts groaning in the grass. I want to yell at him to shut up, but by the way, I am getting tossed around, if I opened my mouth, I'd bite my tongue off.

As if reading my mind, Percy does yell at Grover, but Grover just groans, "Food!" again.

The bull-man wheels toward him, paws the ground again, and gets ready to charge. I think about how he had squeezed the life out of my mother, made her disappear in a flash of light, and rage fills me like high-octane fuel. I get both hands around one horn and I pull backward with all my might. The monster tenses; gives a surprised grunt, then—snap!

Percy's POV

The bull-man screams and flings my sister through the air. She lands flat on her back in the grass. Her head smacks on a rock. I catch sight of a horn in (Y/n)'s hand and I dart over, grabbing it out of her hands and roll to one side as the monster charges. As the monster barrels past, I drive the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.

The bull-man roars in agony; he flails, clawing at his chest, then begins to disintegrate - not like my mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.

The monster is gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbles, but only in the distance. I smell like livestock, and my knees are shaking.

I stick my hand out and pull my sister up from the ground.

My head feels like it is splitting open, and it doesn't help as I look at the back of my sister's head, which was bleeding heavily. I feel weak and scared and trembling with grief. I'd just seen my mother vanish. I want to lie down and cry, but there is Grover, who my sister had stumbled her way towards and was trying to lift the limp figure on her own. Both my sister and my best friend need my help, so I manage to haul him up and my sister and I stagger down into the valley.

(Y/n)'s POV

The pain in my head was almost blinding - from it slamming against the dashboard and the rock - and I hear Percy crying out from our mother, but we both hold onto Grover - neither of us letting go.

The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a bearded man and a pretty girl, her blond hair curled like a princess's. They both look down at me and Percy, and the girl says, "They're the ones. They must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," the man says. "They're still conscious. Bring them inside."

Word Count: 2896 words

[katedrakeohd]

A Choices: The Royal Masquerade Fanfiction

Pairings :(MC) Julia Aster x Renza Fierro,

Julia Aster x Kaydan Vescovi

Author's Note: As I transferred this story from writen page to digital it occurred to me just how long it was becoming so I've had to break it up into several parts.

...........................

Part One:

A State of Undress

The morning is sunny and warm on the day of our cruise on the Fierro yacht. I’m standing outside in my courtyard with my steward Vasco waiting for Renza’s carriage to come pick me up. As I smooth my hands down over my corset and skirts for the hundredth time, Vasco notices my nervousness and smiles.

“I suppose this will be your first time on a sailing ship M’lady,” he says.

“Yes, it will.” I nod.

“I’ve heard that Lord Hector is a very honourable man. Are you anxious to meet him?”

To tell the truth I’ve barely thought of him at all today. And it’s not Hector or the boat trip that have me feeling anxious. Since we’ll be with the Fierros, that means Kaydan the Crown Shield will be around too. And these days he has occupied my thoughts more than anything.

“I’m hoping Lord Hector isn’t as dull and strange as Lord Emery is. Such a disaster that dinner was. If it weren’t for Henry rescuing me with a new plate of dinner after Cyrus and Emery left the table I would have starved to death.”

My pet wolf cub Astro scampers around the courtyard threatening to trample the flowers. His antics have stolen Vasco’s attention and my comments go unanswered. I shrug and go back to my own thoughts.

Ever since I met Kaydan Vescovi the night of the masquerade, I haven't been able to get him off my mind. Just being around him with his dark eyes, wavy black hair and strong muscled physique is enough to make even the most sober person feel a little intoxicated. When he smiles at you and gives you his full attention it's like nothing else matters. I consider myself a lucky woman to have had the chance to spend so much time with him these past few weeks. As the Crown Shield wherever King-regent Henry Fierro goes, Kaydan isn't far behind. Between both handsome men being around lately it's like receiving two beautiful presents for your birthday when you're only expecting one.

During the joust when Kaydan and Henry both sought my favor, it was such a thrill. But when the swords came out after they had both been knocked off their horses, I realized that the rivalry goes much deeper. Fortunately the duel ended without anyone getting seriously injured. I know they're friends and I would hate to see them ruin that because of me. But still I must admit seeing Kaydan win was exciting.

In the stables after the joust Kaydan told me that it had been fun to fight Henry in front of the crowd. Being able to knock his half-brother Cyrus down a peg anonymously as the Black Knight had also been satisfying for him. His victory takes the title of Champion of the Tournament of Flowers out of noble hands. I enjoyed cheering with the other spectators, even if I was the only one hoping for Kaydan to win.

Henry is all sunshine, winks and flirty smiles. There's no wonder all the single ladies at court clamor for his attention. There's no mystery to him and he wears his heart on his sleeve. He radiates a perfect example of wealth and privilege. When I'm around him I’m polite and friendly. He's given me no reason to doubt his intentions as Crown Regent are genuine. But for me all I feel is loyalty not affection.

Kaydan is all long looks, secret smiles and quiet respect. Although he was born of nobility, he's not considered one of them. He's accepted his place as the bastard son and chose a life of hardship and responsibility in the guard.

Henry may have his name and noble house to hold him up, but it's Kaydan's humble strength and sense of duty that protects him. I admire Kaydan for that, although he won't accept the title of hero no matter how often he's earned it. There's more to Kaydan than his imposing presence. I'm drawn to him in a way that goes beyond the physical, and I’m determined to know him better.

He's worked his way up through the ranks to become Crown Shield, and earned the respect of many along the way. I've sought out his expertise in matters of security, and he's always seemed pleased to have my company. Sometimes when we're alone we comfortably lapse into conversation and he lets down his guard a bit.

In the short time we've known each other we've developed a mutual respect and kinship. When we're alone I'm just Julia the scribe, and he's just Kaydan the black sheep and we're comfortable with that.

I hear Renza's carriage approaching and take a deep breath to prepare myself to be in her company. She's as brash and confident as her brother is charming and sweet. I never know what she's going to say or do when we're together.

Vasco steps forward to open the door of the carriage for me, “Are you entirely sure you don't want me to travel with you your Ladyship? There's room for one more in the carriage.”

As I take his offered hand to assist me up into the carriage, I smile and shake my head. “I'll be fine with Renza. Please make sure that Astro is fed and properly put away for me, and then join us at the marina later for the trip.”

Vasco nods, bowing to me, “As you wish.”

Tucking my skirts around my legs I settle down on the seat opposite Renza. Once Vasco has closed the door behind me, Renza looks me over critically from head to toe and then shrugs.

“Well good morning to you too,” I jest.

“My dear Julia, please tell me you don't expect to impress Lord Hector wearing that?”

I can't help but take offense to her remark since I am wearing a gown in the rich tones of blue and gold that represent my noble house. The House of Aster. I’m not sure if her jab is an intentional insult to my house or my sense of style, so I try my stoic best to deflect it as irrelevant.

“Honestly Renza. If I must marry someone for the sake of politics, what does it matter what pretty wrapper I am presented in?”

It's not like I'm that excited to be offered up to Hector as some sort of trophy wife.

“You may say that now, but you don't need to sound so bored and dismissive about the prospect of a match.”

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound that way. I'm just distracted. My poor sister has still not awakened, and suddenly becoming the head of my household is overwhelming. I've barely had the chance to figure out what that even means, and now I am expected to marry myself to a total stranger to support the Crown. Whatever happened to falling in love and getting married. That's what I really wish I could do.”

Renza laughs, “Oh you're such a Romantic. Don’t forget that you're a noble now. Marriage for nobles is a contract with obligations, land titles and bank accounts. Romance is for affairs outside of marriage. Why are you so hung up on love and romance anyway? Is there someone you've had your eye on?”

“I…well. I don't want to say. That's between him and I.” I can feel myself blushing.

“Ok fine, but I'll find out one way or the other. I bet a little wine will get you talking.”

Before I can turn her down, Renza has already opened a bottle of red wine and poured me some. It's still morning but apparently Renza feels that drinking wine is appropriate for all hours of the day.

When the carriage turns off of the main road and onto her Manor's private lane one of the wheels bounces over a rock. I gasp in surprise as the wine in my goblet splashes over the front of my dress.

“Oh no! This is a disaster.” I cry.

Renza produces a handkerchief out of the bodice of her gown and offers it to dab at the wine stains.

“Well that's a shame. But look at it this way. Now I’ll have the excuse to put you in a dress suitable to impress the pants off Hector and your secret lover.”

I hand her back her handkerchief, shaking my head. “We're hardly lovers.”

“Not yet. You may have been able to charm the minds of men at court so far with your cleverness and wit. But leave it to me and your looks will charm the rest of their…parts.”

I roll my eyes, “Oh please Renza I’ve already gotten my fill of Cyrus and his brand of sleazy charm. I don't want all the men at court to start talking to me that way. I implore you to at least keep some shred of my dignity intact.”

As the carriage comes to a stop, I look out of the window and marvel at the grandeur of the Fierro Estate. Renza escorts me to the dressing room attached to her bedroom to get changed. The opulent furnishings of even this room put most of what I have back home to shame.

Renza wastes no time in helping me get out of my dress. As I stand in my underclothes she gives me another critical inspection and I feel myself blush.

“H..happy now?” I stammer.

Renza's surprised expression takes me off guard, “More like impressed! With a body like that you could make a bedsheet look alluring. I'm almost tempted to send you out like this.”

Crossing my arms across my chest I frown at her, “Renza, seriously. Focus.”

She gives me another critical inspection, making me feel even more uncomfortable.

“Natural beauty aside, whoever tied this corset isn't doing you any favors. Here let me fix it for you.”

I back away, holding up my hands. "No, no. Leave it alone. I like being able to breathe thanks.”

She sighs and then steps away from me again. “As you wish.”

I'm still standing in just my underwear as she continues to talk.

“So are you curious about meeting Hector at all?”

“I'm mostly curious about what kind of person he is.”

“Well professionally all that I can tell you is that he is a trade expert hired by the merchants across Cordonia to help improve their business.”

I try to sound interested, “So he's …business minded.”

Renza scoffs, “Well when you say it that way it makes him sound stuffy. Lord Hector sails the world and visits all sorts of interesting places. Imagine the fascinating stories he could tell."

I nod, "Well then I guess he doesn't sound so stuffy after all."

Renza smiles, looking relieved "Good now let's get you dressed. Stay here while I fetch you something to wear."

She gives me a wink and then leaves me alone. I feel self conscious, exposed and plain in such a fancy room. When I hear the door open suddenly I turn around expecting Renza. But instead it's Kaydan!

"Lady Renza, I found the --... "

He stops short and his eyes go wide when he sees me, "Julia!"

I feel myself blush to the roots of my hair, but as shocking as it is for him to see me in my underwear, I can't help but feel a rush of excitement too. My heart is pounding like crazy in my chest, but I flash him my bravest smile and place my hands on my hips and ask, "Looking for something?"

He's still standing there rooted to the spot and gaping. "I..I wasn't expecting -- .."

"Hmm?" I smirk at him, stepping closer.

He clumsily shuffles backward, trying to avert his eyes from seeing so much of my bare skin.

Renza re-enters the room and gasps, "Crown Shield, what in the world do you think you're doing?"

"But..but.." he stammers, looking at us both.

"Out, out, out! Now!" she shrieks.

He quickly shields his eyes and mumbles his apologies as she pushes him out of the room and closes the door.

"The nerve!" she exhales with relief.

Biting my lip and trying to hide my grin, I giggle. "I hope that he enjoyed that as much as I did."

Her mouth drops open and her eyes sparkle with amusement as she laughs, "Lady Julia Aster, you saucy minx!"

"What? Accidents happen. Besides he knows this is your room so I could ask you questions too."

Renza brushes off my remark and raises her chin giving a haughty retort, "Well this is my house after all. Quit avoiding the issue. Out with it, you like him don't you. And here I thought it might be Henry."

Breathing a sigh of resignation I admit it, "Yes, Kaydan is who I'm interested in. Please don't tell anyone. I know he's not noble."

Renza laughs, "True, he wouldn't improve your social standing as a match, but he's definitely an impressive piece of man to have on the side. If you're saying there's more to him than what's on the surface then I must say congratulations to you both."

I open my mouth to protest that Kaydan is more than just a side piece, but then decide to change the subject. "If I'm to impress Kaydan or Hector today you better give me something to wear."

Renza blinks, remembering the gown she has in her arms. "Of course, where was I?" she hands me the dress. "You're sure to grab attention in this."

As she lays the shimmering blue and white silky and sheer fabric in my arms I am amazed at how light and airy it feels. It's surely worth more than my entire wardrobe.

I stammer as I thank her, "Are..you sure about this? Have you nothing more plain or modest?"

"No, no I insist. Consider it my engagement gift to you. It never fit me properly anyway. Hector won't be able to take his eyes from you."

Or Kaydan either, I thought to myself.

I nod gratefully and step into the dress, "Well thank-you, could you help me fasten the lacing in the back?"

Renza smiles as I turn around. She adjusts and ties the satin lacing a little tighter than necessary, and I find it difficult to breathe. Is she jealous that the dress fits me better, or is she feeling spiteful and wanted Kaydan for herself?

As I turn back around and catch sight of myself in the mirror I can't help but smile.

Behind me I catch Renza's expression and she looks annoyed as she says, "Alright then now that you're wearing a properly fitting garment, let's be off, the carriages await."

...

Continue on here

Tagging:

@gardeningourmet @samihatuli @jovialyouthmusic @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @mfackenthal @bobasheebaby @pedudley @be-still-my-aching-heart @krishu213 @ibldw-main

[lostadrianda]

The house of wolves

Part I

*версия на русском языке по ссылке:

https://ficbook.net/readfic/8551009

There are dark times. I thought that the death of my parents was the worst thing I would ever see in my life. But now it's so bad… I have to admit that it's worse.

Smoke from the fire rises into the sky, twisting and dragging sparks with it. An axe clatters, and a tree falls with a crunch, breaking neighboring branches. I have almost no life left in me. Almost nothing is inside. People are scurrying around. The camp is growing in front of our eyes, turning from a temporary to our permanent campsite. I look at it, trying to figure out what’s going on. I'm not used to being in camps. The detachments held out successfully for four years in the Dominiana, where we took over the houses, and everything went well. But recently we were forced out of those lands, and the Sly Fox moved all of us to the Islands. It seems to be logical decision. But on the Islands we are not welcome. We could have gone to the south to sparsely populated areas and stayed there. However, we did not do this. But why?

I was the only one who seemed to be asking questions. I don't know. I didn't have much contact with anyone from the camp. I glance at the people sitting next to me. Their faces are dry and earthy. Only the reddish glare of the fire is on them. And their eyes are fixed. You always had to keep in mind that those were wolves around you, not people. They look alike, they even show humanity from time to time. It's all a lie. And if there is any kindness in someone, it will soon be beaten out of them. It's the only way around here. I am among the enemy, I am in their ranks. I help put up new tents. But I have a feeling that I will soon be finished with. It's about time. But the Sly Fox keeps stalling. I think he understands how much this torments me. That's why he keeps me close to him. He's not stupid, no. Therefore, his decisions are not discussed.

It's funny that the Fox has committed so many crimes, but if somebody asks to show the main bastard, everyone will point the finger at me. I betrayed my family. Not native, adopted. Yes, they are all dead now, too. I guess my life didn't work out. But I didn't betray anyone. When the door was kicked in and twenty men entered with the Fox at their head, it was all over. There was nothing I could do about it, no matter how much I think about it. I pretended that I always hated my new parents. And I joined the side of the enemy. I should have given my sister time to escape. I didn't expect much more. I didn't think about anything. I didn't think I'd have to break into houses like this with the others. That now I will always hear the sound of those black boots wherever I go. I didn't think I'd have to run around in the woods. I didn’t know I'd be stuck with them for five years. I thought they would kill me that night, in the same house, as soon as they realized what I had done. But they did not understand or pretended not to understand. They still look askance. And I'm not allowed to be absolutely free. The Sly Fox sometimes calls me, asks questions, and I answer, but I keep waiting for the punishment to come. And he lets me go. During all this time, not a single suspicion was expressed. And he's smart. And there is nothing left for me, I am in his hands, always in his sight, even if he is watching me with a hundred other people's eyes, wolf eyes. He is always somewhere above me, behind me. All the time my life is suspended, and I know it.

My only hope is that my sister will return. I have nothing else left. Everything is so empty. And I’m doing something wrong. I close my eyes so that I don't see anything, so that I don't understand what is happening to me. Because as soon as I start thinking, it turns me inside out. When I forget myself, I gather wood for a fire, go with others and scout the area around the camp, draw some maps. And everything seems to be as it should be. I make an obedient and silent employee, everyone is happy, I do not interfere with anyone. The whole body shakes, as if with a strong chill, and no fire warms. So something inside is resisting. It remembers, and remembers well, that the Sly Fox is the enemy. That he killed a lot of people. But he's good, he's built everything right. He's got an army of about three thousand men, and they all look at him and catch every word. Only one person I've ever known, only one person in my entire life, could stand up to him. And this is my sister. Isn’t it funny, huh? As I remember her, thin, fragile, as I look at the Fox… I can't believe it. But that’s true. Her playful dark eyes flashed with such power sometimes that I was willing to believe that she would overcome anyone. And every time I look at the Fox, I always look at the scar on his cheek. My sister left this for him as a souvenir.

But I haven't heard from her in five years. It's too long to wait, you know? A person waits, waits for a week, a month, maybe a year… And then begins to live, throwing a veil of oblivion over the past. Only I never started again. The air balloon ends sooner or later, you know? And I'm still trying to grab the mask and breathe, breathe. Nothing is inside. In the camp, when people talk about her, all they say is that she must have been dead for a long time. I wished they say something else, even nonsense. Nooo. There are no other options in anyone's mind. Only my brains resist. Things can't be that bad. No matter how much life beats me, I won't believe it. It can't be that bad.

Smoke from the fire gets in my nose. It's getting colder, the earth is blowing in autumn, and the leaves are not the same as before. I rub my flushed hands together. The Islands don't like us. We are like an ulcer on their body. We tried to move deeper into the mountains and fortify ourselves. Fifty of our men were killed in two days. A couple of detachments remained in the dense forests at the foot of the mountain, while the rest were scattered along the coasts hiding. We choose places so that we are not found for as long as possible. And it’s strange that the Fox ordered us to fortify ourselves here. But let hell be with it.

The sky has been cloudy all the time we've been here. Today, for the first time, I see the sun shining. Even now you can't see the sky — it's all white, with darker clouds floating across it. The horizon is dark-blue, grim, colliding with an even darker, colder sea. I look into the distance and for the first time I think that my sister must be dead. It scares so much. It's like I'm no longer a human being and I'm becoming a wolf, like all those people around me. That’s really scary. For some reason everything turns to be meaningless. No, I won't give them my soul. They took everything from me, but they won't get it. I will believe till the end. I will resist until I lose my mind. Why am I sitting now here with them, as if I really took their side?

It makes me feel sick. I kept hiding in their ranks and waiting for my sister to break out. Five years have passed. Time flies quickly, terribly, the further away, the more ghostly. I forget how it all happened, I forget why it happened, I forget what a mistake we made. I still think that I did everything right. I acted as I should. As well as I could. But for some reason, it all turned out to be really bad.

If I am the only one left here, who is still fighting, who still remembers that there were better, brighter times, if my sister is dead, and no one is fighting without her, isn't it time for me to get up? Isn't it time to remember who I was and how I was brought up, and what was on my mind before I got bogged down in this mire? I'm biting my lip nervously, they are already looking at me with suspicion.

What a coward I have become! Just thinking makes my temples sweat. I’m used to waiting for a miracle, but as soon as I imagined that I had to act myself, I shrank from fear and wanted to hide away. If only they didn't touch me, if only, if only... I did not to experience new horrors. You don't like me, do you? Despise? Look at me, all that is left of me is my skin, hanging on my bones! These wolves, damn them, have broken me so badly that none of my old friends would recognize me. But what good are these friends: they're either dead or they're first in line to take my head off.

I stand up from the log I've been sitting on all this time and feel my legs go numb. They are frozen to the bones. I stand still to stretch them a little. The two men sitting next to me look at me lazily.

— Where are you going? – Their cracked lips move, yellow teeth appear in between them. Those men probably don't like camp life either. And how long this will continue, no one knows.

— I'll go up to the river. There's one place I don't understand, I want to look at it.

— Don't run into anyone. We don't need you to bring the villagers here.

I nod. I don't get into fights, I don't get involved. Everything I have inside, I keep inside, and it’s a habit that has covered me like armor. I walk past the tents, from campfire to campfire, and turn onto the path that leads higher. I climb up and look back. Lights, trampled paths, people. I'm sick to death of such views. The further away from them, the better it is. I know I'll be back anyway. It's sickening. But the closer I get to them, the more I can learn about the outside world. I'm still waiting for news. At least one piece of news about my sister would be great. No one else will tell me. Only sitting by the fire I learn something new. Everyone in the outside world that I strive for hates me so much that they won't hesitate when they see me. They’ll kill me instantly. Here in the squads, I'm just one of hundreds. To the outside world, I stand in one line with the Fox. And he is happy for this — to keep a traitorous son and show everyone that even I recognized his power.