#it frankly wasn’t that bad. he didn’t like. push me off the boat or anything

[irlnikeiyomiuri]

guys did i ever tell u abt my bestie in 8th grade. we were so fucking close genuinely attached at the hip and then we went into ninth grade and covid, and then i saw him again at senior hoco and it was great and then i saw him at senior prom and it was fucking nasty he ain’t even greet me even though we hung out w the same group of people the whole night.

[xaharadesert]

Return to the Lazaret Alone Pt. 5 - Headcanon

Asra Alnazar x MC

A/N: Almost done! @snarkfinnicksoup, only one more to go after this! But of course, who knows how long it’ll actually take me to get around to writing it :) Requests are open! Oh, and for anyone who’s wondering, after I finish this request I have about 8 others that have been sitting in my inbox for way too long, so if it takes a long time for me to post your request, that’s why! I like to take my time and write these headcanons to the best of my ability! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes! Also, I know this didn’t touch on MC’s reasons for going to the Lazaret as much as the previous parts, but I feel like at this point it’s a bit repetitive. But, I made Asra’s perspective extra angsty to make up for it!

TW: crying, Lazaret, isolation, relationship insecurities, anxiety, panic attack, food mention, mentions of death

Spoilers for the end of the game!

💙Asra💙

Leaving an argument unresolved was one of Asra’s least favourite things to do

Even if the two of you couldn’t reach a compromise or some sort of agreement, he, at the bare minimum, always liked to soothe over any hurt feelings before separating in any way

Your last argument before you had lost your memories would forever be one of his greatest regrets, and he was determined not to make the same mistake by letting you think he didn’t love you completely

So even if you were angry, and needed some time to sort out your feelings before addressing the issue again, he would take your hand tightly in his own and tell you that he loved you before letting you go off on your own

With that being said, your most recent argument was much more bitter than usual, and even though he had still told you he loved you, he felt as though you hadn’t heard him properly

The both of you had gone to bed feeling bad, but neither of you had wanted to stay up any later fighting

Once sleep had reset your emotions, you could try again more peacefully in the morning

Or at least, that’s what Asra had hoped would happen

But when he woke up the next morning, it was to find you missing

Now normally, this wasn’t an unusual occurrence

He liked to sleep in late as often as possible, and no matter how long you slept, he would probably be in bed longer

So you not being next to him shouldn’t have scared him as much as it did

But to some degree, your emotions were connected, and he could feel his heart ache right along side you

He was out of bed before any other thoughts could register in his mind, throwing on some clothes, allowing Faust to slither into his shirt, and grabbing a few key items— most importantly, his compass

Not bothering with breakfast, he followed the compass’s needle as it pointed him toward what he desired most: you

He moved through the town quickly, not returning any of the greetings thrown his way by familiar townsfolk

An unpleasant feeling tugged at his gut, telling him that he already knew where you were

Telling him that the past three years had been a lie; telling him that his worst fears were a reality

Telling him that you were dead

His panic rose instead his chest, threatening to burst out

Doing his best to push it down, he kept moving, trying to convince himself that maybe you were just buying something at the edge of town

He couldn’t consider any other possibilities without breaking down

So when he came to the edge of town, the end of the dock, facing toward the Lazaret, that’s what he did

He broke down

Rationally, he knew you were fine

He didn’t know why you would have gone to the Lazaret, much less alone, but he knew that you were alive

But a larger part of him didn’t care

It insisted that you were dead, that he had failed to save you, that you hated him for everything he put you through

And he couldn’t help but fall to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he tried to stop himself from screaming for you

He felt like he couldn’t breathe; there was an invisible hand wrapped around his throat, slowly and painfully strangling him

The dock beneath him seemed to be falling away, and he felt like he was falling with it, not into the water below, but into an endless void

After what felt like an eternity, he slowly regained control of his senses

There were a couple people kneeling beside him, hovering but not touching as they tried to talk him back to reality

He didn’t recognize them, so they were likely just concerned passerbys, but he appreciated them nonetheless

It took a while, but eventually he was calm enough to convince them to leave him be

Now that the initial panic had passed by, he felt empty, but at the same time, determined

He wasn’t sure how long he had taken for himself, but he felt ready to find you and bring you back home, where you belonged

Quickly finding someone willing to ferry him to the Lazaret for a certain price, he sat in a small boat, staring solemnly at the Lazaret as it slowly grew bigger

When he reached the shore, he asked the boat’s owner to wait just a while until his return with you

He pulled out the compass and followed it once more, refusing to look at his surroundings lest he fall into panic again

It lead him into the lone building occupying the island and he pushed down his rising fear again, focusing on the fact that every step brought him closer to you

And there you were; curled up to be as small as possible, sitting on the ash covered ground

He choked back a cry and very nearly threw himself at you, holding you tight and trying not to break down again

You were startled for sure— Asra hadn’t made a sound when he came in— but he didn’t seem to notice, too busy being relieved and repeating quietly out loud that you were alive, you were safe, you were with him

And frankly, if you started crying to, then nobody would be able to blame you

The two of you clung together, crying for different reasons, but crying nonetheless

Eventually Asra managed to pry himself away from you just enough to look deep into you eyes

His cries slowly turned to laughter out of relief that you were safe, back to crying because of where he had found you, back to laughter again because, yes, he had found you, and you were alive

All in all it was a very messy and confusing time for the both of you

But eventually calm and relative silence fell over you as a comforting blanket, save for the occasional sniffle or chuckle

Frankly, neither of you was in a state to talk things through at the moment

You would, for sure, as there was no way Asra would ever leave anything unresolved ever again, but for that one day, all he wanted to do was take you home and hold you close

He shakily pushed himself to his feet, and tried to help you up despite not being very stable himself

The two of you left the Lazaret hand in hand, relieved to be together, but knowing you had much to talk about later

[lumosinlove]

Relic Keel

Previously on Relic Keel:

Lily and James sneak out to the Lacrosse fields together. Lily learns about the treasure hunt and Luke’s father’s connection with Pascal Dumais. Her and James decide to, if not be together, than have togetherness for as long as they can.

Finn wakes up in Grimmauld and is reunited with Logan. The crew learn that a hurricane is approaching and Dorcas tries to convince Saint and Sirius to go somewhere else other than Grimmauld, which will get dangerous in the storm. Logan is looking forward to Finn meeting Leo, although he’s confused about his feelings for the blonde boy.

Luke and Saint meet in Rowena where Saint reveals he’s been staying up reading Luke’s notes in the books he’s stolen from his room. Luke wants to know more about Pascal Dumais, and learns that he helped raise Saint and Sirius after they both ran away from their homes. They agree to meet at The Lion later to confront Pascal. Saint apparently likes Luke because he hates surprises and Luke is exactly what he expects him to be—mean. He also steals Luke’s sunglasses.

Dorcas goes to Kasey Winter’s ice cream shop—he also is a safer dealer of Crucio, and she tells him she wants out. He was hoping she would go into business with himself and his girlfriend Natalie. They want to create a medicinal, therapy program for Crucio, where people who are struggling can safely use to to deal with past traumas or grief. They want it to be used correctly, not as a quick fix. Dorcas isn’t hesitant about leaving, she wants to follow Marlene, but she likes that idea.

Remus and Sirius run into each other on their way to the meeting at The Lion, and Remus invites Sirius to stay at his house for the duration of the hurricane. Sirius gets proud and angry and declines. They argue.

Pascal reveals to Sirius, Leo, Remus, Luke, and Saint that Luke’s dad, Victor, and Leo’s dad, Wyatt, were hunting the treasure together—Dumo played a smaller role, had less of an interest other than an interesting discussion about history. They figured out that the Voldemort lay off of the Cradle, a ring of rocks and tiny islands off of Hogwarts Island. They learn that there is a current called the Horcrux that escalates during a storm, revealing the bottom of the sea—or a shipwreck. Leo’s dad was killed by the current, Luke’s father was taken away years after, and the map showed up on Pascal’s doorstep a few days after that. Pascal tries to warn them off of going, but Saint and Luke seem bent on it.

Finn and Logan go to Leo’s house, only to find him crying about the truth of his father’s death. Finn learns of the treasure.

***cw: identity issues, not sure how to tag this but wanting to be alive? briefly implied (and happily concluded) past struggles with that, almost death, past death of a father, mention of blood and wounds***

part ix

Saint felt sweat snake down his bare back as he filled sandbags and shoved them up against the far side of the house. The wind already felt bad tempered. Maybe it was just him. Just Saint, the wind, and the ocean that had gone the graying blue that meant a storm. Saint thought the world should catch up already. His storm had been brewing for a long time. The promise of rain brought goosebumps over his bare back, the sun hidden by clouds, and he shoved another sand bag up against the boards, like some sort of parapet. As if they were preparing for a war.

He looked up when the noise of Sirius hammering plywood across the windows stopped. He rolled his eyes.

“Stop staring out at the ocean like a sailor’s widow.”

“Oh, we’re speaking now?” was all Sirius said.

“No,” Saint jammed his shovel into the bag of sand again.

He faintly heard Sirius sigh. “I don’t know what I did.”

Frankly, Saint wasn’t sure what Sirius had done, either. All he knew was that there was rain thrashing inside him, and wind howling in his ears, and there was gold to be had and death to be avoided.

And Luke.

He had let Luke catch him the night of Pascal’s confessions. Or maybe Luke had just caught up. He’d found Saint at the Howler Cliffs. Saint knew he was there, but kept his eyes closed, letting the wind whistle in his ears. Still, the sound of Pascal calling him his son roared louder.

“If I had known that’s all it took to rattle you, I could have saved myself a lot of time,” Luke had said, coming to stand beside him.

Saint had smiled and it felt like it had stretched his cheeks all wrong. “I didn’t know you were trying so hard.”

“You said it yourself,” Luke had replied. “Dumo took care of you.”

“It’s one thing for me to know it,” Saint snapped. “It’s—“ another thing for him to say it.

“Dumo could know more about my father,” Luke said. “Maybe—maybe the treasure can help me find out what happened to him somehow. Why no one will tell me anything. Why I can’t see him.”

“Sure, Deveaux,” Saint had kept his eyes ahead. “Tell me all about your father.”

“I need my father.”

Saint had whipped his head towards him, only to find Luke looking right back.

Luke’s eyes had been more open than Saint had ever seen them. His pain was like the sun coming through a tiny gap in drawn curtains. He didn’t let much of it show, but the mere hint became blinding. Saint felt it push against his own chest. He kept his blinds shut tight.

Luke’s voice was fainter when he repeated his words. “I need my father.”

Saint swallowed. It was nice, somehow, that Luke was self-aware enough to admit it. “What do you expect me to do about that?”

“I can’t—maybe I can’t figure this out alone.”

“I’m sure your Godlings will help with that.”

Luke shook his head. “James doesn’t understand. He’s too…happy.” Luke winced a little, the wind ruffling his tawny hair. “He’s had it too easy.”

“Lupin?”

“Remus only thinks he’s unhappy. Maybe because I am. It’s…abstract for him.”

Saint raised an eyebrow. “That’s a little rich.”

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Luke nodded.

“So, what?” Saint sighed. “Misery helps misery?”

Luke’s smile, so rare, was sad. “If it has nothing better to do.”

“Well?” Sirius said, flipping his hammer in his hand. “Feel like telling me?”

“Is it weird?” Saint asked. “That we aren’t in love?”

Sirius tilted his head at the age old question that they asked each other. It was half a joke. It was half a plea.

“I do love you,” Sirius said. “And I’d be in love with you if I could.”

“I’d be in love with you if I could,” Saint repeated, then sighed.

“We suck,” Sirius said.

“Yeah,” Saint squinted back out at the ocean, where they could see Remus’ boat.

“I do love you, though,” Sirius said, and walked down to sit on the steps, his gray eyes looking at Saint through the splintered, wooden railing. “Don’t do something stupid. I can’t lose you to the ocean. Or to anything at all.”

“And I love you, which is why we need that gold.”

“We don’t,” Sirius shook his head. “The rest of the world isn’t Gods and Hollows. You aren’t nothing or kings.”

“I have nothing better to do. And we have plain nothing—financially speaking.” Saint gestured towards the house. “Dorcas will leave for the states, and then we’ll really have nothing. We both know she’s paying—”

“We’ll go somewhere else—”

Saint tied off a sandbag with a yank. “I’m not leaving.”

“Saint.”

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not.”

Sirius stood, eyes cloudy. “You’re not talking to me again.”

“Huh.”

“We don’t do that!” Sirius said, voice raising. “Stop shutting me out.”

“I’m not doors and windows.”

“Saint,” Sirius’ voice held a note of begging. “What is here for us?” He motioned towards the cross that hung around Saint’s neck. “That?”

Saint grit his teeth and began to fill another bag.

“Just,” Sirius took a breath. “Just tell me why—”

Saint hurled the small spade at the side of the house, and it made a satisfying crack. “This is the only place anyone would ever know to look for me.”

The waiting storm seemed to crackle in the air around them at Saint’s words, as though he himself had struck the match to trigger it. Thunder rolled mutedly in the distance. Sirius’ eyes matched the sky.

Sirius walked forward, and Saint let him. He let him press a hand to his face, then their cheeks together as he wrapped him up in his familiar arms.

“Stop waiting for her,” Sirius’ voice was gentle in his ear. “She doesn’t deserve you.”

“We need the gold.”

“We’ll find another way.”

“I don’t want another way. I want a hunt.”

Sirius pulled back just enough to look at him. “One that has killed a man?”

Saint pulled away to retrieve the spade. “Careful is my middle name.”

~

Leo was embarrassed, but Finn didn’t seem to know the meaning of that word.

He watched him and Logan work wires into loops to hold together shards of found lost things that his mother had scooped up from the beach, while he sat at a workbench, repairing an old ship clock that he could hopefully paint to get rid of the wooden chips and then sell. Finn, as he had regained his strength, was laughter in a bottle. He was as fiery as the color of his hair, with lean fingers that Leo found himself watching as they handled materials, or helped him in the kitchen, or turned the pages of one of Leo’s many books. He went through them like a forest on fire.

And all Leo seemed to be able to do was cry in front of him, as he had the first night, or stare at the way him and Logan were together. Logan had opened up, his eyes lighter, his grins broader. Only his laughs remained as they had been, a soft sound, almost private. They made Leo feel as though he were being let in on a secret.

Leo blinked and Finn was standing in front of him.

“We’re making you dinner tonight,” Finn said, those same nimble fingers spread out over Leo’s work space on either side of the clock.

Leo couldn’t help his laugh. “Oh?”

“What do you feel like?” Logan asked, standing a little ways back, arms crossed over his chest. He looked like some hot gardener out of Leo’s daydreams in his tight white t-shirt and his borrowed pair of work gloves.

Leo leaned back, taking a breath. “What are my options?”

Finn looked back at Logan with a grin. “Ah…peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?” He raised an eyebrow at Logan.

“Or take-out,” Logan finished with a shrug.

Finn’s smile was teasing. “Aren’t we the best house guests you could ask for?”

Most tormenting, maybe.

Leo laughed. “Better idea—I make dinner and you two stick to clean up.”

Logan put his hands up and walked closer to the work table. “Fine by me. What are you doing again?”

Leo looked back down at the clock. “Trying to fix this. I think it's missing a gear, though.”

Finn just hummed and sat half on the table, knee propped up. It made his cross swing against his neck for a moment, and Leo looked between his and Logan’s. He wondered, not for the first time, why they didn't take them off. They didn’t have a clasp or a tie that he could see, just a thicker area where the two parts of the string had been fused together with heat. They were too short to be pulled over the head.

“Do you want me to cut those for you?” Leo asked.

Finn looked up. “Cut what?”

Leo hesitantly gestured to the spot where the crosses would have rested on his own chest, and then pointed to Finn’s.

It was like cloud cover. Logan actually gripped his protectively in a fist.

“Ah, no,” Finn said slowly. He stood straight again and ran a hand through his hair. It came to rest on the back of his neck. “No, that’s okay.”

Leo watched Finn glance at the wire clippers resting near them, and reached out to put them back in the tool box. “Okay. Just thought I’d ask.”

Logan turned away and Finn watched him, too. He swallowed. “Thanks, Leo.”

Leo flushed. It didn’t feel like a thank you. More like an appeasement. “Yeah…”

“Oh,” came a voice from the shop’s open garage door. Leo jumped a little, and looked to see Saint leaning against the side, and Luke, with his arms crossed, a little behind him, looking like a very grumpy sort of bodyguard.

Saint feigned a shiver. ���The room just got colder.”

“Saint,” Finn still said the name like he was tasting something knew, but Saint looked almost pleased each time he heard it. “And…”

“Tweedle, meet Finn. Finn, meet Tweedle.”

“Luke,” Luke snapped.

Finn snorted. “Okay?”

Leo was still stuck on the necklaces, eyeing Saint’s still intact one now. He figured the numbers were a way of keeping track of the kids—but burning the string seemed like a bit much.

“What do you want?” Leo sighed. Seeing Saint made him feel raw about the news of his father’s death all over again.

“Well, you ran a little quickly from Dumo’s,” Saint replied, picking up an old lobster trap that they used for spare wire now. “Should’ve stayed. Missed some good stuff.”

“Don’t act like he’s the only one who ran,” Luke mumbled. He and Logan were eyeing each other suspiciously, no doubt remembering the night in Luke’s father’s study when Logan had nearly burned his father’s letter.

“The first wave will come tonight,” Saint said, ignoring Luke. “But if we really want our shot at the Horcrux current, we’ll need the full throttle. Boom, crack, all that.”

“Full storm hits tomorrow,” Finn said from his place beside Leo. Leo looked over at him. He was still torn between embarrassment about crying and something else. Relief? Thankfulness?

Leo tapped his fingers against the clock. “We should figure out what we need for a trip like that. The shops will be boarding up by this afternoon.”

“Kris will have what we need,” Saint replied. “A boat.”

“Kris?” Luke asked.

“He runs the marina,” Leo said.

“What I was going to say,” Saint cut in. “Was that we should run a test trip. Tonight. Before the storm is at its worst.”

“See what we’re dealing with,” Logan nodded.

“I don’t see why we need this treasure, or whatever,” Finn said. He was still fingering his necklace. “I mean…if the trip is as dangerous as it sounds…why risk it?”

Saint laughed a single note, and looked at Logan. “Oh, Lolo. You haven’t told him?”

Logan stiffened, and Finn blinked. “Told me what?”

Saint made a tisking sound. “Logan. All that trouble to get him out and you’re keeping secrets.”

“Fuck off,” Logan growled.

“Oh, you sound like Luke.”

Finn took a step forward. “Lo?”

Logan sent him a pained look, but turned away. Leo glanced at where Logan’s backpack was resting in the corner of the workshop. It had been there for days, he hadn’t been dealing, but that didn’t mean any of the problems it had caused had gone away.

“I think you’re right as far as boats go,” Leo said carefully, trying to draw the attention away from Saint’s jabs. "But he doesn’t have any equipment. Visual or otherwise. If we need that.”

Saint grinned and clapped a hand on Luke’s shoulder, having to reach up a bit to do it. “That’s where this one comes in.”

Luke scoffed. “This one?”

“We’re going to visit your too-happy friend, Tweedle.”

~

James was staring at his computer, trying to will himself into college, when the sliding glass kitchen door, leading in from the pool, flew open. Saint was there, along with Luke, and three boys James didn’t recognize—or no, he knew the brunette and the blond from the restaurant in The Hollow.

“You have two hundred of my dollars,” he said, pointing his pencil at the brunette. The redhead beside him narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“That you offered,” the brown haired boy crossed his arms.

“Yeah, as part of a bargain,” James looked at Luke over his glasses. “Was the other end held up? Don’t think so.”

Luke just rolled his eyes.

“Well you’re going to have to pay up again, Potter,” Saint said, sliding onto the kitchen island stool across from James.

“Excuse me?”

“Not in money this time.”

James looked around at them all warily for a moment before sighing and knocking his computer shut. “Well, you’re already in my kitchen. And I’m already miserable.”

Luke coughed out a laugh and Saint seemed to bite back a smile, too.

“You need what exactly?” James asked.

“Lights Diving equipment. Don’t go running to Sirius, though.”

James raised an eyebrow. “I’d drive.”

“Ha, ha,” Saint rolled his eyes. “Now, can we borrow it?”

“Is this about that treasure?” James asked. “Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the ocean is fucking deep. Deeper than my summer of sophomore year scuba pastime will get you.”

“Deeper than you?” Logan mumbled, and James glared.

Luke let out a laugh and Saint paused in whatever he had been about to say and turned to look at him. It was almost—awkward.

“What?” Luke snapped, rubbing a hand over some stubble on his cheek. “That was a very Potter statement.”

James had never seen Saint stutter before, or fidget, but that’s what he did when he turned back around to face James.

“Can you get it?” Saint sighed.

James snorted and gestured to the TV mounted above the microwave playing the news. “I’m sorry, am I the only one who knows about the quickly approaching hurricane?”

“Details,” the brunette mumbled.

“It’s for later,” Saint said.

“Then I’ll give it to you later.”

Saint scowled.

James sighed and pushed himself from his stool. “You’re not actually going out into that storm with my help.”

“For Luke,” Saint said. “For his father. This might be our only lead, and our only chance. Until the next storm, at least, at which point you won’t be able to stop us because we won’t come to you for help.”

James yanked the refrigerator open. “Don’t guilt me.”

“James,” Luke said and James didn’t look at him. “Please. I—”

“And this will fix what, exactly?” James sighed. He closed the refrigerator harder than necessary, and the sound of rattling bottles from within filled the silence as he turned on Luke. Luke, who he’d known forever. Luke, who he’d tried to help. Luke, who had done everything except try recently. It frustrated James more than he knew it should.

“It could,” Luke bit out haltingly. “Fix something.”

“What?”

He could practically feel the anger in Luke’s next breath. “My dad was all but—stolen away in the night. No explanation. No goodbye. And now this? A letter, a name, a treasure hunt that turns out to be something more than the fucking bedtime story? J, come on, please.”

James cracked the seal on his drink. “Once again. Hurricane.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Luke said. “We need a storm.”

“You need to get a fucking grip,” James felt heat building behind his words. “Luke, this isn’t—you’re just trying to…distract yourself, or something, and I get it, I do, but—”

“You don’t,” Luke snapped, voice raising.” You don't know what it’s like. You’ve been wrapped in fucking silk and fleece for your entire life. Your parents love you more than anything. You don’t understand what it’s like. You don’t understand anything beyond your own fucking front porch.”

Luke’s words sapped the air from the room like lightning and a dead fuse. His brown eyes widened, just a little, the green dark today. His chest moved rapidly, his cheeks flushed. The three other boys glanced at each other from Luke’s shoulder.

James cleared his throat. He set his drink on the counter.

“How long have you been holding that in, huh?” he said.

“I…” Luke began. He pushed his hair off of his forehead, but it feathered back into place. “I haven’t, I…J, I’m—”

“And the Crucio?” James asked.

“I’m,” Luke’s eyes shifted away. “I’m not.”

“Liar.”

Saint seemed to be holding himself very still. They all were.

“J,” Luke had a pleading note to his voice now.

“They’re in the basement,” James cut him off, sliding back on his stool and opening his laptop. “My mom labels everything down there. But I don’t think it’ll help you.”

“Great,” Saint knocked his knuckles on the countertop and was off, the other three following.

James could feel Luke standing there, frozen and hesitant. He kept his eyes trained on his screen, and his blank page, the cursor blinking.

“Just go,” James mumbled, and Luke did.

James didn’t look up when they left.

He didn’t look up as evening turned into night, or when the sky opened up for the winds and rain to begin their thrashing on the island.

~

Kris Lavolie had his boats and his daughter. The marina was shut tight when they got there, Logan running behind the others as they dashed through the rain to the door. Logan expected Saint to pound on the glass, but instead they only used the slight shard of roof the ran along the edge of the building as protection, the five of them racing in a line around the property until they got to the marina. All of the boats were dry-docked and covered tightly with pinned tarps. Saint surveyed them with steely eyes for a moment. His hair looked like molten gold in its drenched state.

Logan shivered and felt Finn press him against his side. He glanced at Leo, who had his arms wrapped around himself.

“This one,” Luke said. “It’s like my dad’s. I can drive it.”

Saint gave a nod and the two of them didn’t wait to see if Logan and the others would follow before they were walking down the swaying dock. They didn’t have to worry about making noise and drawing Kris out. The storm hid them.

Logan eyed the waves as he stood between Finn and Leo. They were rolling and white-capped. He looked up at Leo to see him staring, too.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Logan asked. He tried to think of a way to tell Leo that, if he did, he was with him. He also tried to think of a kind way to tell him he thought they were insane, now that he was face-to-face with the raging winds. He needed the money, sure, but he wanted his life, too. He didn’t think the Carrows would kill him, but he didn’t know. The wind stung his eyes and whipped his hair off his forehead. He’d lost his hat somewhere, he didn’t know when. He reached up to his temple, his shirt sticking to his skin. He hadn’t even felt it blow away.

Leo shook his head as they approached the boat where Saint and Luke were efficiently untying the tarp.

“No.” Leo took a shaky breath. “He died out there. He wouldn’t want me to—”

Saint looked up, blinking hard against the lashing rain, from where he was shoving the tarp into a storage compartment. “You cannot back out now.”

Leo’s blue eyes matched the dark waves. He put a hand on Logan’s shoulder, a slight pressure to turn him around. “Yes, we can. This is insane, the winds are too strong.”

“Your dad—” Saint began, both of them yelling over the howling wind.

“Didn’t raise me to be stupid,” Leo said. “Or to get my friends killed. I’m sorry, I know you’re doing this for me.”

Saint scoffed. “For you? This isn’t for you. We all do things for ourselves. Bail-outs,” he gestured to Logan, and then to Luke. “Answers. I thought you wanted a few of those yourself.”

“And what would my mom think? Both of us, my dad and me, drowned?”

Saint’s jaw muscles jumped from where he stood beside Luke in the boat. “You wouldn’t be there to know what she thought, would you? What does it matter?”

Logan thought he saw Luke flinch a little, but he kept his head down, fishing the keys from the glovebox.

Logan followed Leo another step back, looking frantically for Finn, only to find him already at his side.

“We shouldn’t,” Finn whispered right in Logan’s ear, breath warm. “Lo…”

“Saint,” Logan yelled. “Leo’s right.”

“Come on,” Finn shook his head. “Let’s go. This is insane.”

“We’re going,” Luke said, eyes on Saint. “We got this far.”

Logan hesitated. He didn’t know Luke. He certainly didn’t like him.

“Don’t be stupid,” he still found himself saying, then swallowed beneath the weight of his next words. “You’re selfish, to risk your friend’s life.”

Logan couldn’t hear Saint’s laugh beneath the wind, but he could see the smile. “Bold words, coming form you, Logan.”

Logan felt Finn’s cold fingers slip into his own and squeeze.

“Come back with us,” Leo shouted over the storm. “Come—”

But Luke pressed the button that would lower them into the water. Logan only just could hear the hum of the machine. Logan watched as Luke jammed the keys into the ignition and lowered the motor. The second the bottom hit water the engine roared to life. Finn took a halting step forward, and Logan had the brief thought of doing the same, prying them from the boat. Leo’s father’s story flooded through him. He felt like he was watching someone die. He gripped Finn’s hand tighter, his other raising on its own to fist the back of Leo’s t-shirt. He didn’t want either of them getting stuck on that boat if they couldn’t get to the keys. The boat rocked dangerously as it tried to get a crest over the violent waves. With one last dark look from Saint, they took off over the wild water.

“They made their choice,” Logan said. “God, they’re going to get themselves killed, I…”

“We need to get the coast guard,” Leo said, and then turned down the dock and ran.

Logan looked up at Finn, whose wild expression matched his own.

“I’m glad we’re not…” Finn said. “I didn’t understand…I don’t understand this.”

Logan pressed a hand to his cheek. “I’m not risking you. Not again.”

Finn pressed his palm over Logan’s. “What aren’t you telling me, Lo?”

Logan closed his eyes. “I will. I will tell you.”

And then they turned after Leo.

It was like the wind was trying to rip the Hollow free of the island. The coast guard boats had been out, and Leo had figured they’d be by the point and so they’d ran half across the islands to The Hollow, where it would be the most dangerous. Sure enough, trees were down, and wires lay in dangerous puddles. Sandbags lay soaked and spilled across the ground.

Logan’s eye caught on the red of the police cars’ lights flashing across Finn’s face, made fragmented and liquid by the heavy rain. He couldn’t help but feel the surreality of having Finn beside him all over again. There had been a time where he had been positive that he would get caught, that he would be sent back to St. Clair in a heartbeat. He had spent so long avoiding any sight of the police. It felt strange to be seeking them now, but Leo was on a mission. His tall frame looked above heads, but the guards weren’t anywhere near their cars. Logan spied Sirius’ familiar dark hair only seconds before Leo did.

“Sirius!” Leo shouted, and Logan and Finn ran after him. Sirius was in the street with so many of the other Hollows, watching the storm try to rip at their homes.

“What are you guys doing out?” Sirius yelled, trying to see them through the rain.

“It’s Saint,” Logan said. “It’s Saint and Luke. Where are the police, where—”

But Logan didn’t think Sirius was listening anymore. Sirius’ face dropped to an expression Logan recognized, one he had felt on his own face when he realized that he had escaped St. Clair, and Finn had sacrificed himself and stayed.

Sirius pushed through them and took off towards Godric at a run.

~

Luke knew they were insane. He could barely keep his footing the closer they got to the Cradle. The wind was skewing the rain so much that it seemed like they were driving through water, too, the headlights making the steam and pellets seem like a solid wall to be breached.

“Third rock from the left point,” Saint shouted over the roar. “Closest to the Salazar coast!”

“We can’t get caught up in it,” Luke shouted back, wrists aching with the effort of keeping the boat on course.

Saint shook his head, hair plastered down and falling in his eyes. “We won’t be able to see any other way. If it can carry us, we’ll be safer from the rocks.”

They hit a particularly brutal wave and Saint was jolted forward, without the stability that the driver’s seat provided Luke, and right into Luke’s side.

Luke caught him with one arm. Saint’s hand shot out to replace Luke’s, now around his waist, on the wheel, and they steadied the craft together.

“We’re fucking insane,” Luke shouted.

“Insanity likes company.”

Luke looked at him, risking taking his eyes away from the approaching rocks for a moment. “That’s misery.”

Saint glanced up at him. “We’re that, too.” Then his eyes widened as he looked out over the dark waves.

“The Horcrux,” Saint breathed, and Luke could barely speak.

“The middle,” he managed. “Look.”

There was bare sand in the middle of the circle of rocks, the wet grains being whipped into a frenzy as if by magic, the water pulling outwards. He didn’t know how that was possible. It was bizarre. It was too strange.

“There,” Saint pointed as they inched closer. Luke’s neck hurt from the jerk of being lifted up by the waves and crashed back down again. Luke squinted, trying to see through the rain and the small sand storm alike. They were right at the rocks now. “Do you see it? Are they planks? That looks like—”

Luke jolted as he felt the steering wheel stutter and then go loose in his hands. He turned it once, twice, but it was as though the mechanism had snapped. The boat lurched forward.

“We’re being pulled!” Luke said, panic clawing up his throat. “I can’t—”

Luke slipped from the wet leather seats, landing hard on his back on the deck of the boat, Saint beside him.

The steering wheel was useless. They were being carried now. By the waves. By the current. Maybe by chance. It was almost like floating, had it not been for the wind and rain. That made it feel like a free-fall.

Luke had his arms around Saint’s waist, Saint’s around his. It felt like they were pinned to the deck.

“Either the storm will pass,” Luke breathed. He couldn’t keep his mouth from brushing Saint’s temple, with the motion and the way they clutched each other. “And the current will slow, and we’ll be dashed against the rocks from momentum.”

“Or?” Saint’s breath brushed his jaw.

Salt sprayed as the boat jostled and knocked them together. “I didn’t think that far.”

“That Greek myth,” Saint said. Luke could feel his fingers digging into his back. “The whirlpool.”

“Maybe a monster would be a quicker death.”

Saint’s laugh sounded strained. “Quicker than rocks?”

“A better story, then,” Luke replied. “No one to tell, though.” 

“We’ll know.”

Luke gripped him tighter as the wind seemed to pick up, howling. His breathing came fast. “You told Leo the dead know nothing.”

Saint picked his head up, looking at Luke through the rain. Their foreheads pressed together. Luke’s eyes burned.

“I don’t want to know nothing,” Luke choked out.

Saint didn’t say anything. Luke had never known him to be silent, but he just stared as the boat lurched beneath them. Then, Saint tilted his chin forward, only a few centimeters, but it brought their mouths together in a firm kiss. It was warm, against the chilling rage above. Luke closed his eyes, and let the feeling of lightning brush through him. Warm heat.

They didn’t pull away so much as were pulled apart then knocked back together, Luke’s lips pressing to the corner of Saint’s mouth, then his cheek. Saint brought his hand up to Luke’s jaw to steady him. For a moment, it had felt like they had stopped spinning round and round.

“Why did you do that?” Luke breathed. He didn’t know how Saint heard him over the roar, but he did.

“What do you mean?” Saint said. His eyes were molten and—afraid, Luke realized. The rain on his face looked like tears, and he traced his thumb over Luke’s lip. “I steal things from you all the time.”

There was a horrible, jagged wrenching sound, and Luke found himself plunged into the water, Saint ripped from his arms.

~

The rain lashed against the windows of Remus’ bedroom, and Remus looked out into the falling dark.

“What a dick,” he mumbled aloud to himself.

He couldn’t figure Sirius out. He didn’t seem unkind—until someone was kind to him, at least.

It made Remus want to kill him with kindness and just kill him period. He’d been so happy on the Wolfsbane. He’d been horrible at The Lion. Proud.

Remus rubbed his eyes, closing his laptop. It was the storm. That was all. He looked towards the direction of the docks. He hoped the planks survived. He’d kept his boat as safe as he could, cranked up the tracks onto the grass, sails down, tarped up.

He smirked. Luke would laugh at him if he could see him worrying like a mother. Sirius, on the other hand…Remus thought Sirius might have worried, too. Remus sighed. There Sirius was again. Popping up.

It was why he thought he must be imagining it when he looked down and saw Sirius standing at the door he had named to him, in the side of Bane Tower, soaking wet and staring behind him, out at the ocean.

“Shit,” Remus threw his computer to the side, and his bedroom door open.

The old wooden tower stairs groaned beneath his quick feet, and he winced as a splinter ripped at his palm as he threw himself around the bend at the bottom and pulled open the door.

Rain hit him immediately. Sirius jolted around. His eyes were like gray moonlight.

“I…” Sirius began, but didn’t seem able to say any more, just blinked at Remus through the heavy wind and rain. Remus didn’t hesitate, just pulled Sirius inside and slammed the door shut again.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked.

Sirius was just staring at the door. Maybe thinking of the rough ocean still.

“Sirius,” Remus pressed, taking Sirius’ broad shoulders in his hands and giving him a shake. He was hot, even feverish, despite the frigid rain. “Are you hurt?”

Sirius just looked at him with wild eyes and shook his head. His dark hair clung to his forehead, his gray eyes cat-like and afraid.

“Is anyone else at your house? In the Hollow?”

Sirius shook his head again—his entire body was shaking, Remus realized. “No, Dorcas went to Marlene’s. The—everyone’s in the street—Saint—”

“Saint?”

“Saint is out there,” Sirius’ words practically tore out of his throat. He pushed his soaked hair out of his face. “He went out there and—and—the treasure. The—”

“The current,” Remus repeated, and Sirius pressed a hand over his eyes.

“I should have know. I should have known he’d never listen. He’d never—”

Remus didn’t pause to listen to more. He swore and snatched two windbreakers from the hooks by the door, plus a fleece. He shoved the fleece and jacket into Sirius’ chest.

“Put those on.”

“We can’t,” Sirius’ words choked off to catch his breath. “How will we follow them? I didn’t think you would—”

“Why else would you be here?” Remus said. He shoved gloves over his hands. The rope would be wet, slippery, and he didn’t want to deal with blisters and ripped up palms for weeks to come. He handed Sirius a pair, too. “I don’t know why I’m doing this for you. We should call the police.”

“Leo is trying to find them.”

Remus shoved a sweatshirt over his head. “Is that how you found out?”

Sirius nodded, zipping the breaker up. “Leo, Logan, and Finn. They came running up, and said Saint and Luke—”

“Luke?” Remus froze. His stomach dropped. “Luke is out there.”

Sirius’ eyes flickered, but he nodded after a moment.

Remus didn’t have the time to try and figure him out. Not now. He reached for the door. “Come on—”

“Remus?”

Remus froze all over again, his hand on the handle. He felt Sirius shift uncomfortably beside him, and then Remus turned to see his little brother standing there on the bottom step, in his pajamas.

“Jules,” Remus breathed. “What are you doing awake?”

Julian’s eyes flicked from Sirius and back. “I heard you. There’s a storm.” He looked at their outfits. “Where are you going?”

“We have…” Remus trailed off. “We have to pick up a friend. I’ll be right back.”

Julian stepped down the last stair. “I want to come with you. Your gloves. Are you going—on the water?”

“No,” Remus said. “No, no, we’re—It’s…”

“I want to go with you. Can I?” Julian looked at the door. “I never get to. Mom says—“

“Jules,” Remus said, bending down and pressed his hand through Julian’s sleep mussed hair. “Julian. You have to stay. You have to stay here, okay? It’s really, really dangerous outside.”

“But you’re going outside.”

“I know,” Remus let his eyes fall shut for a moment. “I know I am.”

“I’ll tell mom.”

“No,” Remus pleaded. “Jules, please. We have to go and you have—you need to stay. Please. I’ll take you out on the Wolfsbane. I’ll do whatever you want, just—Please.”

Julian didn’t look convinced. 

“We have to go,” Sirius’ rough voice came. “Remus.”

Remus rose. “Julian, do not follow us. Wolfsbane, super early, mom never has to know. I’ll teach you. You know I’ve always wanted to teach you.”

Remus ruffled Julian’s hair, and then rose, turning to Sirius.

“Now,” he nodded towards the door.

It was a struggle, getting the tarp off while the wind whipped it back in their faces. Getting the sails straightened, but loose enough so that the mast wouldn’t swing right around once they cranked it back into the water. He kept them low.

Remus peered at Sirius, swiping a hand over his eyes. “We’ll have to use the motor. There’s no way I can control too much of this wind.”

Sirius nodded, but he looked panicked. “They could be—anywhere, already in the water.”

“Well, look on the bright side,” Remus snapped. Sirius was all nerves, and they couldn’t afford that. “At least they won’t freeze to death. They’re not far from the coast.”

Remus was breathing hard by the time they swung themselves into the boat and were jetting haltingly away from the dock. The nose bowed this way and that, and Remus risked raising the sails, just a little. It seemed to straighten them out enough. His fingers already ached from the tight, adrenaline-filled grip he held on the lines. He didn’t dare tie it off, the might need to drop them quickly.

“The Cradle,” Sirius shouted against the wind.

“I know,” Remus yelled back. “We can’t go in the Horcrux. We’ll just get stuck. The boat won’t survive it, we’ll tip.”

“Fine,” Sirius said. He was just sitting there, water splashing over the sides and soaking their shoes.

Remus tossed him a bucket. “Bail.”

Sirius did, and pretty quickly, too, but the waves were high.

“This was fucking stupid,” Remus muttered to himself.

The Cradle rose up as if out of mist, and Remus could see its ring of water, swirling within. It was practically a tide-pool, vicious and smooth. It almost looked inviting, like some water-park ride. Remus eyed the sands swirling in the middle with half a mind going to the bedtime stories his grandfather had told him.

“A desert storm in the sea,” he breathed.

The rocks looked like jagged death sentences, and that was when he spied the two shapes, one on the rock closest to them, and the other all the way on the other side of the ring.

“There!” he shouted, and Sirius jolted up. “On the rocks, can you see them?”

Sirius nodded and tossed the bucket down in favor of catching up a rope. He began to fashion it into a sort of hook, a circle that could be slipped around the waist.

Remus wondered where he’d learned that, and Sirius seemed to read it on his face.

“Dumo,” he said, and wiped his sleeve over his face, trying to clear the rain. “How close can we get?”

“I don’t know,” Remus shouted, turning the boat into the next wave and letting it crest more safely over the nose. “Let’s go around, the rocks could wreck us.”

They came to Luke first.

Remus shouted his name twice before Luke looked up. He was clinging to one of the rocks, soaked to the bone and bleeding from a cut to his head. Remus looked to the water. There was no sign of their boat.

“Luke!” Remus shouted.

“Remus,” Luke’s voice sounded far away, though he was just feet from them. “Saint—I—I don’t see—”

“He’s there!” Sirius shouted, eyes trained on Saint’s figure on the other side of the ring. It was perfectly still. Sirius seemed to shake himself and held the rope high, feet spread wide to keep his balance as Remus kept having to turn the boat this way and that to keep their place in the waves. “Can you grab this if I throw it?”

Luke nodded, and his eyes slipped shut. Remus felt panic seize him.

“Yes,” Luke shouted. “Yes.”

“Hurry!” Remus urged. His arms were shaking already, and he still needed to get them over to Saint.

Sirius tossed the rope out. It was a good throw, but he nearly lost his balance doing it. Remus nearly let go of the sails going to catch him, the rope slipping dangerously through his fingers as he lunged to grab the back of Sirius’ jacket.

Sirius shook him off. “The sails!”

Remus leaned back on his heels to get the rope to stop pulling, his teeth clenched. “Just saved your life, your welcome,” he mumbled.

Sirius didn’t hear him.

“Around your waist!” he was shouting, and kept the rope free of the tiller as Remus brought them about again.

Luke followed his instructions shakily, slipping into the water on the outside of the rocks, where the pull would be straight instead of sideways. Sirius hauled him through the waves, and Luke pulled himself up onto the deck coughing.

“Luke,” Remus’ voice broke. He wanted to go to him, but he couldn’t let go. “Luke, Luke—”

“I’m okay,” Luke coughed out.

“Your head,” Remus couldn’t look to long as he let the changing wind guide them out farther towards the horizon, trying to find a calmer path.

Luke touched his fingers to his temple and looked down at the red that came away with them. “Oh.”

“Saint!” Sirius was shouting, but the moonlit silhouette on the rock wasn’t so much as stirring.

Remus had to weave them out four more times before they got close enough to the rock to see Saint’s face. He had a nasty slice that ran from his forehead to his cheek, the red dripping down his jaw and mouth in jagged, rain-washed lines.

“Saint!”

It was Sirius and Luke’s voice in unison this time.

Sirius cursed and tore off his jackets and gloves, then took the looped rope from around Luke, securing it tightly around his own waist instead. He looked at Luke. “You have to—”

“Pull him in,” Luke said, eyes on Saint. “I know.”

“And me,” Sirius snapped, then shouted Saint’s name again. There was still no response.

Remus was struck with the thought that Saint looked like something out of a myth. Odysseus, washed ashore, or a deadly Siren, luring them in, the passing sailors, for his next meal.

Sirius looked back at Remus, who could only stare back, horrified, as he dove into the water.

He surfaced farther away than Remus expected, carried towards the rocks by the powerful current. Luke cursed as the rope slid quickly through his hands.

“The gloves!” Remus shouted, and Luke tied the rope off for a moment, to shove them onto his hands. He kept it hooked around one of the boat railings, letting the boat bear some of Sirius and the sea’s weight.

There was a terrifying moment where Sirius nearly slipped right past the rock, but he held on, hauling himself up beside Saint’s body.

Remus brought the boat about again and whipped his head back to see if they were in the water yet. Sirius was touching Saint’s cheek, his mouth, and then he was wrapping him up in his arms. He slipped messily back into the water and Luke pulled hard. Remus could see his muscles shaking, his wound bleeding. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of all the times they’d played pirate. This wasn’t any sort of make-believe.

It was harder, getting Saint into the boat. Sirius had to cling to the side with one hand and try to lift him from the water with the other. Luke reached down and hauled Saint up by his arms, knocking Saint’s head against the rails in the process.

“Fuck,” Luke’s wind-snatched voice came.

Sirius tumbled over a moment later, spitting salt water and crawling on his hands and knees towards Saint. Luke was already there, listening for breath. Remus had never seen him look so scared. Not even when his father was taken away.

“Get us out of here!” Sirius shouted at him, and Remus didn’t waste energy being angry at him.

The closer they got to shore, the more scared Remus felt. Without the wildness of the storm would come the stillness of land. And if Saint—if he was—

“Breathe,” Luke was shouting as he pressed in even strokes on Saint’s chest. He plugged Saint’s nose and blew air into his lungs. “Breathe you fucking thief.”

Remus couldn’t watch. His eyes stung but he looked into the full-mooned dark—and he saw a shape. There was a silhouette of a boat, a rowboat, moving back and forth dangerously with the waves. Its sides were so low that it had to be filled with inches in water. They got closer, and Remus heard someone crying.

His heart gave a painful squeeze.

He knew that cry. He knew that boat.

“Julian!” the shout all but shredded his throat.

Julian’s small figure was barely keeping the oars in their nooks. The sailboat’s weak light lit his face in red. His hair was plastered against his forehead and his face was screwed up in fear.

“Remus!” his voice barely carried. “I—”

Remus didn’t even have time to see the wave before it threw Julian dangerously to the side. He screamed, and Remus thought he heard himself scream, too.

The rope slid along his palms as the sails swung around. He ducked beneath the metal bar and drove for the rowboat.

“Julian! Don’t move! Try to stay in the center!”

Sirius was at his side, rope in his hands.

Julian had his eyes squeezed shut as he felt his way through the water, up to his knees now, in the boat.

“Julian look at me! Look at me!” Remus shouted. “You have to catch this. Sirius is going to throw this to you, and you’re going to slip it around your waist—”

Julian’s eyes were wide and golden. “The sharks—”

Remus shook his head, a sob ripping from his throat. “There aren’t sharks now. There aren’t, now listen. You’re—“ The sails swung and he felt Sirius’ palm cover his head and push him down as the boat came around again. “You’re going to put this around your waist and make sure it’s tight, okay?” Then you’re going to jump in and we’re going to pull you up.”

Remus’ throat ached from shouting, but thin tendrils of relief shot through him when Julian nodded.

Sirius’ aim was true, and Julian almost lost it over the side, but he grabbed it quickly. He put it over his head, and pulled it tight, but look over the side of the boat timidly, then up at Remus.

“I can’t see the bottom,” Julian cried. “I don’t like not being able to—”

“Julian, you jump right now,” Remus said. “Right now, come to me, Jules.”

Julian closed his eyes and leapt.

He disappeared beneath the surface for a terrifying second, and then his head broke through again, gasping and spluttering when a wave hit him right away.

Remus distinctly heard coughing from behind him—Saint—and Luke cursing him out in a broken voice.

Sirius leaned over the side and pulled Julian up and into his arms.

“The sails,” Remus shouted at him, and Sirius took the ropes from his hands wordlessly. Remus dropped to his knees and pulled Julian, larger with his life-jacket on, against his chest.

“The row—” Julian began.

“Let it go,” Remus held onto him, maybe too tightly. “Let it go.”

~

Remus shut the door to Bane Tower too hard. It was blissfully warm inside. Julian was wrapped in every blanket that Remus had been able to find and clutching a cup of hot chocolate from the electric kettle they kept down here. Sirius was crouched beside him, having been holding Remus’ place until he returned from securing the Wolfsbane. Saint and Luke were standing by the stairs, still dripping, with more blankets around their shoulders. There were clusters of bloody paper towels where Luke had been taping up Saint’s gash when Remus had left for the boat after letting them in. Luke’s own wound looked clean now, and more like a bruise.

Remus didn’t look at any of them, just stared at Julian, sitting there with a tear stained face, safe. He’d never known relief and guilt could feel so similar.

“Lupin,” Saint broke the silence softly, then cleared his throat. It was still rough from the salt water that had been in his lungs. He stepped forward “Remus—”

“I almost lost my little brother,” Remus said lowly, and then it was like he really realized it, and he crossed the room to shove Saint backwards. “And you would not have been worth it. You never would have been worth it.”

“Re—“ Luke stepped forward.

“No,” Remus shouted. “No.”

Saint’s lips pressed into a thin line. He swallowed. “I know. I’m sorry, Remus.”

Remus turned his back, trying to catch his breath. Sirius stepped out of his way as he went to Julian, clutching his shivering body close to him. He couldn’t look at them, at Luke. Not now.

“I won’t tell mom,” Julian mumbled through his chattering teeth.

“Shh,” Remus whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. He smelled like he had always smelled, even when Remus had first held him as a baby. Even through the salt of the sea. He felt his own lip tremble. “It’s okay.”

The walls creaked dangerously in the winds. At least it was dry. They were all silent, the only sound their panting breaths, until Remus looked up when Sirius rose. He walked straight at Saint and shoved him hard in the chest, too. Saint stumbled backwards like he had expected it. His eyes looked gold in the dim light, and understanding.

“I know,” Saint said.

“What were you thinking?” Sirius’ voice was uneven. Luke looked down.

“Sometimes I don’t,” Saint replied with his familiar evenness.

Sirius just let out a shuddering sound, pushed Saint again, but caught his blanket hem at the last minute and pulled him against his chest. He cupped a hand against Saint’s cheek and kissed him with a bruising pressure. Remus let his eyes trail over the way Saint’s fingers knotted in the back of Sirius’ shirt. Luke turned away. Remus wished he could, but instead he watched Sirius pull away slowly, then brush their lips together once more, with a pain in his chest.

Remus was so angry with himself for feeling any of that at all right now that he almost didn’t stop them from leaving when it was time. But this was just the beginning, the first wave.

“There’s going to be more and it’s only going to get worse,” he sighed instead. Sirius looked up at him. He was at Saint’s shoulder like he couldn’t move away. “You can’t stay in the Hollow.”

~

Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in a room with AC, and, as if reading his mind, Saint suddenly threw their covers back and cracked both of the windows open, just enough to let the humid night air in without the rain. Thunder rolled. Sirius watched his silhouette squint at the thermostat in the dark, and heard the faint beep as he turned it off. He hadn’t realized how loud the machine had been until all was quiet save for the storm, and Saint was slipping back beneath the covers.

They lay there beside each other, a feeling that was as familiar to Sirius as breathing. So, why did it feel so strange?

“You could have died,” Sirius said into the dark.

“I’m sorry.”

Sirius looked over at him. Saint didn’t often apologize. That was twice in one night.

“I don’t even know…” Sirius shook his head up at the ceiling, trying to get the image of Saint’s lifeless body out of his head. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“I kissed him,” Saint said, and Sirius turned his head. Saint was staring at him already. “I kissed him.”

“You kiss me all the time.”

“You kissed me in front of him.”

“And you wish I hadn’t?” Sirius asked.

Saint seemed to be trying to play it all out in his head, eyes far away. He looked back at the ceiling.

“No. I love being with you. Touching you. Laughing or fucking or surfing. I was just scared. You were just scared, though. Maybe I’m always just scared.”

“Being scared isn’t really a just feeling. It’s important.”

“Maybe he’ll get the wrong impression. Go all—soft on me.” Saint flicked his eyes towards Sirius. “You never do that. You just treat me like I’m me. Not a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a best friend or a lover just…two people.” Saint closed his eyes. “Just two people who are doing what makes them happy. What feels good or right.”

“This is what you’re thinking about right now?” Sirius scoffed. “You almost died.”

Saint took a slow breath in. “I didn’t want to. I wanted live so badly. But for what?” Saint looked at Sirius again, and this time, there was fear there. “I don’t even know who I am. Why should I want things if I don’t even know that?”

Sirius let that sink in. He wanted everything for Saint, but, most of all, he wanted to see that cross ripped from around his neck.

“Maybe living is about finding out who you are. You’re allowed to change, Saint. Your name…anything.” Sirius reached for Saint’s hands beneath the covers and Saint held on tight. “And I’m going to love you through it all. In whatever way, in all the ways, we do love.”

Saint stayed quiet for a moment, and then he turned onto his side and Sirius mirrored him. They rested their foreheads together. Saint’s free hand clutched his cross.

“I’m so tired of being number seven,” Saint whispered.

“You were never number seven,” Sirius whispered back, stroking a hand through Saint’s hair. “You’re you.”

~

Remus and Luke lay in Remus’ bed. Remus had Julian tucked against his outer side, sound asleep, and Luke may not have been as close, but Remus could feel his body heat as they stared up at the ceiling in silence.

“Thanks for not making me go home,” Luke broke the quiet.

Remus nodded. “Yeah.”

“Saint’s probably going to steal something from your guest bedroom,” Luke mumbled.

“Hasn’t he taken enough?” Remus replied quietly.

He could see that Luke looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“It wasn’t just his fault,” he said insistently. “I went out there, too.”

“And the others?”

“Leo wouldn’t let them go. He said it was too dangerous. Which,” Luke sighed. “Which of course only made Saint want to go more.”

“And you went with him?” Remus turned to look at him, too. They were so close that their noses nearly brushed. “Luke.”

“I need answers, Re,” Luke whispered urgently. His brown-green eyes were pleading. “I can’t stay in that house, not with the way it is. I need…”

“We need to get off of this island.”

“Leaving won’t help my dad.”

“Neither will getting yourself killed,” Remus snapped, then closed his eyes. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”

Luke shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re right.”

Remus swallowed, focusing on the green in Luke’s eye. He reached up with the hand resting between them, and brushed his finger just below it. “Captain Green-Sea.”

Luke blinked, and the faintest of smiles crossed his face. It had been his pirate name, when they were younger, named after the sliver of green that shone out of the brown in his right iris.

“Captain Wolfsbane,” Luke whispered back. “We loved that game.”

“I’m worried you thought it was a game tonight.”

Luke’s brows drew together. “No. It’s the opposite. I feel—like I’m missing something he left me, Re. Like my dad is trying to…Saint helped me.” Luke swallowed and brought his hand up to Remus’ cheek. “You helped me. Thank you.”

Remus didn’t dare move when he felt Luke’s thumb brush his lower lip.

“You know,” Luke whispered. “Sometimes I wish we…”

Remus nodded gently. “I know.”

“You’re my best friend.”

“You’re mine,” Remus replied, then smiled, just a little. “That means more to me than anything else.”

Luke smiled, too, and tapped his thumb twice on Remus’ chin before slipping their hands together and squeezing tight. Remus closed his eyes, feeling more settled than he expected to tonight.

“My head fucking hurts,” Luke said after a while.

Remus snorted and held Julian closer. “That’s your own fault.”

“I do love you, you know,” Luke added after another moment.

Remus squeezed his hand again. “I love you, too.”

“Captain Wolfsbane,” Luke’s voice sounded more asleep now.

Remus just smiled.

[plus-size-reader]

Hidden Away

Erik x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2184 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader is getting picked on and Erik helps make her feel better.

——————————————————————————————————

Everyone had heard the rumors of the angel of music, the guardian of this place but you had never believed them before.

You had never had any kind of encounter and aside from frightened whispers from the dancers and stories from Madame Giry, you didn’t think you ever would.

In fact, if you had never gotten that letter, you may not have ever learned the truth about this place.

The Opera Populaire had gotten similar letters before, from someone signing as ‘Opera Ghost’ but you had no idea who that was. All you knew was that there was a letter just like it, resting upon your nightstand.

It may have been easier to pass off as a prank, but you didn’t think so. The performers in this place often thought you a joke, and wouldn’t waste their time doing something so elaborate.

Rather, they would just torment you during your rehearsal. You could never have hoped to be a ballerina, though you often wished you could have been.

You just weren’t built for that sort of thing, but what you did have was a voice that not even the most cruel among them could refute.

Madame Giry often said that if you had been built like the other girls were, you would have been the most popular performer the opera would’ve ever had.

You should have known better than to think that living in a place like this would be gentle toward your insecurities. The dancers alone were all in such a physical condition that they were almost always in pain.

...Not to mention, rail thin.

That being said though, you knew that it wasn’t their fault that you weren’t but that didn’t make their cruel comments any less harmful.

Not every one of the ballerinas was nasty to you, or made snide remarks about how pretty you’d be if you weren’t ‘built like that’. It was just that the ones that did sort of took up all your attention.

For example, today, you had been doing your best to perform your rendition of Hannibal that Carlotta was going to be doing tonight at the show.

It was just something you’d been trying to perfect since she began doing it. It was easy to get that song stuck in your head, and as a singer, it was only a matter of time before you attempted it for yourself.

You thought you sounded alright, though not as good as the headliner always did, but right on schedule, Bernadette came round the corner.

She wasn’t the most skilled among the dancers, as she couldn’t hold a candle to Christine or Meg but she was talented for sure. More importantly than all that though, was the fact that she hated you.

Treating you poorly was arguably her favorite thing to do.

“Come now Y/N, there is no use in practicing. They are never going to let you up on stage. I doubt they could even fit you into any of Carlotta’s costumes” she hummed, her thick french accent attacking your senses.

It was a tone you were comfortable with, and if she had been any more kind, it would have even been beautiful but with the way she chose to use it, that all faded away.

Perhaps you could have argued with her or defended yourself some but you knew from experience that it wouldn’t lessen her attack. So, instead, you removed yourself from the situation completely.

Of course, doing so only made her more wicked, a cackle leaving her lips when you left the stage. You didn’t even want to know what she was saying to her friends, but it didn’t matter.

Having heard it or not, it hurt all the same.

You were just so tired of your appearance having anything to do with your talent, as if a couple extra pounds affected your ability to sing.

...And you began to cry.

Luckily, you were far enough away from anyone to know about it, but you couldn’t help yourself even if they were around. It just hurt to never feel good enough, no matter how strong you tried to act.

Sometimes you just had to let it out.

Now, you didn’t know from where you were sitting, curled up in the corner of the room with your head in your hands but there was a witness to the entire thing.

A witness that had been paying attention to you for quite some time.

The opera ghost was the focus of so many people’s attention in the opera currently but the focus of the entity himself...was you.

He couldn’t help himself.

Erik could hear your voice through the walls, even when you were singing alone in your room and by this point, he found himself completely enamored by everything you were.

In some ways, maybe he even found himself developing feelings for you, in his own special way.

In any case, watching those girls speak so cruelly to you filled the man with rage. The only thing that softened that anger was seeing you there, kneeling down with tears in your eyes.

That was enough to stop him in his tracks completely.

That was when he sat down and wrote that letter, requesting that you allow him to meet you in person, provided that you wanted to do so. That way, if he needed to whisk you away in the future, he could do so without alarming you.

Perhaps it was awkward, or strange, but in his defense, Erik had lived most of his life within the walls and dungeon of this place. He wasn’t really the most up to date on social graces.

If nothing else, it was his attempt at not startling you with his presence.

...And thankfully for him, it worked.

You read his letter that next morning, having found it laid gently on your nightstand, stamped perfectly with blood red wax.

It didn’t make any sense, and it seemed rather foolish to answer the calls of some invisible man that you’d never seen before but you couldn't help yourself.

They said that curiosity killed that cat, but in your case, it may have skinned it well first. You didn’t bother to let anyone know you were going, and you didn't care too.

All you knew was when Erik appeared, having pushed through the floor length mirror in your bedroom, you followed him into what could have been another world.

It was both grotesque and beautiful, the dark hallways smelling of musk and soot. You had lived in the dormitories all your life, but you never knew this was hidden just below.

It was clear that this was the most well guarded secret of all that the opera had to offer, and you had to consider yourself lucky to be standing where you were.

Even if maybe you weren’t quite sure why you were doing it.

“What is your name Monsieur? What do you want from me?” you asked, following behind him a quiet tone, having just stepped from the boat.

Where you were now was no more than a built up rock quarry under the opera, but it was decorated as a house would have been. Clearly, he had been living here.

For how long, you had no idea.

Erik didn’t speak at first, doing his best to think this whole thing out before he could ruin it. He had been watching you for so long, dreaming of how you would speak to him, and now that it was here, he was at a loss.

“I hate the way those other little creatures speak of you” he commented finally, not even bothering to introduce himself. It was probably best that you didn’t know who he was right away.

You knew what he was referring to almost immediately, taking it upon yourself to set down on the satin sheet of the bed now. You had no idea how he knew, but he must have been talking about Bernadette.

No one else spoke viley of you more than she did, and if that was why he’d chosen to speak to you, there had to be a reason.

Why would he care?

“She isn’t wrong in what she says, though it hurts” you shrugged, deciding that having someone to talk to was worth all the danger you’d put yourself in to get here.

There were so many unanswered questions but you couldn’t bother with them right now. All you could think about was this strange man, sitting in front of you now.

Half of his face was hidden from your view, those you focused mainly on his crystal blue eyes. They shone even in the darkness of the pit you were sitting in, and you wondered briefly what they would look like in the midmorning sun.

You assumed it would be like staring deep into a sparkling bay at the peak of summer, and that idea delighted you slightly.

“Don’t ever speak like that” he spat, a bit more upset than he meant to. It was just that it was bad enough to have to listen to them make up rude things about you.

The last thing Erik wasn’t was for you to start feeling them yourself.

“Why do you hide away? Why do you hide your face from me now?” you wondered, not letting the slip of his tongue frighten you, though maybe it should have.

For whatever reason, you felt safe here. Frankly, you were more comfortable sitting here, under the watchful gaze of a stranger, than you had ever been anywhere else.

It just didn’t make any sense that he would stay down here when all of Paris was right outside these walls.

“The world would not be kind to me, as it is unkind to you, and I hide from you so that you will not be afraid” he allowed, knowing that you were starting to feel more comfortable in this odd situation.

Had circumstances allowed it, he would have loved to meet you up there, in attendance of one of your shows. He would have loved to hear your voice in all its glory, but what he said was true.

The world had reared its ugly head to Erik before, and he wasn’t willing to go through that again.

“I will not be afraid” you promised, though when the male mentioned it no more, moving instead to talk about what he’d seen last night, you took that as your hint to do the same.

You didn't know this stranger, after all, and you didn't want to go too far.

“Why do you let them treat you so poorly. Surely you must know that you possess more talent than the lot of them combined” He wondered, almost reaching out to take your hand in his own before he stopped himself.

Erik yearned to feel your skin against this own, it was true, but he didn’t want to risk scaring you away before he even really got to know you.

He had to remember that while he felt like he knew you fully, you had only just met him.

It was a strange question, but all things considered, it was probably the most tame thing you had done all day so you answered him. “I can’t dance nearly as well as they can, besides, there is truth to what Bernadette said. I will never be a real opera singer, not the way I am”

There was a sadness in your voice, like you had already accepted it to be the only truth there was, and that was because you had. In your eyes, there was no room for a woman like you, a big woman.

You had heard everything there was.

That if you were to lose weight, you would be on stage every night. That you were wasting time on a dream with no future when you should be looking for a husband. That you would never find a husband unless you stopped eating.

It was never ending, but you had never admitted that to anyone before.

Maybe it was the odd comfort that you found in the presence of this stranger, or maybe it was because you were hidden away from the world, but you had said it out loud.

...And now Erik understood.

You had never understood what a beauty you were because no one would let you be true to it. No one would let you embrace the obvious beauty you had and instead forced it down within you.

They made you think that the problem with the world was you, when in reality, they were making up lies to keep you beneath them.

“You will never say those things again. You will be on stage, a night all to yourself, I’ll make sure of it” Erik decided, and while you had no idea what he was talking about or how that was going to happen, you nodded.

Anything seemed possible, sitting with a handsome stranger in the darkness and even if it was all a lie, you could bask in it for a little while.

[soundsgoodfeelslikeshit]

She Was Almost Right.

princezukohere said:

Can you do an imagine where the reader is dating JJ and while she’s on a short trip her mom pays a kook or some girl to basically set him up and prove that he’s not worth it. He doesn’t go through with it but he almost does or something but just like angsty and stuff 

Summary: You and JJ had been best friends since you met. Best friends quickly turned into more after the years of mindless flirting you both had done. Throughout all of this your mom never liked JJ, she’d mention how he was trouble and would only drag you down every chance she got. While she planned a weekend to the mainland to visit your cousin, she paid none other than Amelia Vanwhal, kook princess, to flirt with JJ and see if he would cheat on you. 

Warnings: cussing, teenage drinking, borderline abusive parents, mentions of cheating 

“Babe how long will you be?” JJ questioned as you threw random clothes into your suitcase. 

“Hopefully, just a few days. My cousin just needs help with baby shopping.” You said looking at him. 

He sighed and nodded. 

“That means I can’t kiss you for a few days.” He groaned, resting his hands on your hips. 

“You’ll be fine.” You smiled giving him a quick peck. 

He watched as you threw in some panties and bras and then zipped your suitcase. You sighed and then laid next to him. 

“You okay, Bub?” 

“Yeah, just not excited to be on a long ferry ride with my mom.” You sighed and turned on your side. 

“It won’t be that bad. You could always go and sit in the lounge away from her.” 

“She only has time to talk bad about you, and you know I can’t tolerate that.” 

“Just try to keep your temper under control.” He said, running his hand along your bare thigh. 

You sighed and nodded, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. He mumbled and pulled you closer to him, resting his chin on your head. 

................................................................................................................................ “Y/N get the fuck up now.” Your mom yelled, causing you and JJ to jump up. 

“What mom,” You groaned, rubbing your eyes. 

“You know I don’t allow sleepovers, he needs to leave by 12 and you need to put pants on. I don’t even want to know what you were doing.” She glared. 

“We didn’t do anything, but there you go again...always something you just can’t let it be.” You said standing up. 

“Oh please, he just wants one thing, he’ll probably cheat on you before the summer’s over. You know he’s nothing but trouble.” She said with a laugh. 

“Get out of my room.” You said walking towards your door. 

“JJ, I’m sorry. She doesn’t know when to stop.” You said with tears in your eyes. 

He shook his head and stood up, wrapping his arms around you carefully. He pulled your chin up and sighed. 

“She’s probably right. Wherever I go trouble follows, you deserve better.” 

“No. You don’t get to say that. There is no one better than you, my mom doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” You said, running your hands up his back. 

“I should go. Try and get some rest, I’ll text you when I get home.” He said placing a kiss to your lips before leaving your room. 

You wiped a tear from your eye and kicked your door shut. This always happened, but he never reacted that way to her words. You were stumped to know why they effected him the way they did now. You turned your ringer on and climbed in bed, pulling your blanket over your body as you tried to sleep. 

You stayed up all night waiting for a text that never came. You glared at your phone as you grabbed it and texted JJ, and then John B to see if he’d heard from JJ or if JJ had shown up last night. 

You grabbed your suitcase and your backpack before heading downstairs to load the car up. You sat in the car waiting for your mom and then you were on the road. You tried to ignore her words for the most part, but when she mentioned how JJ would fall for Ameila you glared at her. 

“Yeah, mom. JJ is totally gonna fall for a kook princess. He despises them, what is wrong with you? Why do you want this to go bad huh? You don’t even know him!” You said with a frown. 

“Your dad was the same exact way, surfer boy with no care in the world. Couldn’t be tied down. You don’t want to be with someone like him.” 

“Yeah, mom I’m sorry but I would much rather stay with dad than you. I think you forget he doesn’t treat me like shit. Oh but you don’t notice.” You said with a laugh as you got out of the car and headed towards the ferry lounge. 

You pulled your phone out to see a text from John B. 

John B: 

Yeah he got here last night, slightly drunk. Everything alright? 

You: 

Yep. Didn’t get a text from him last night, or a response this morning. Wanted to make sure he’s okay, thanks. 

You put your phone away with a sigh. Your thoughts running wild with everything that could go wrong while you were gone. Now wasn’t a time to go away when your boyfriend wouldn’t even talk with you. You shook the thought and tried to be positive while you approached the mainland. 

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

Once you returned back from your trip you made plans to see the pogues. It’d been a week and a half and you were excited to see your friends and your boyfriend. You hadn’t anticipated being gone that long. You sent a quick text, changed into a swimsuit and then headed to the Chateau. 

You were met with silence as you opened the door. The pogues sat no where in your sight and you looked around with confusion running over your body. Sighing, you turned towards the dock and saw them sitting by the boat. 

“Hey,” You smiled as you walked to them. 

“Oh hey, Y/N. Long time no see,” Pope said averting eye contact. 

You raised an eye brow as all the pogues looked around, avoiding eye contact with you. 

“Did I do something?” You questioned, sadly. 

“No, JJ and you need to talk though.” John B said patting your back as he walked away with Kie and Pope in tow. 

You looked at your boyfriend who hadn’t texted you once while you were gone. He couldn’t even look at you. You grabbed his chin and forced him to look at your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“She was almost right, I’m sorry - so sorry.” He said, pushing your hand away from his chin. 

You stared at him with confusion on your face, and then it quickly turned to that of anger. You could see your friends standing close enough to break anything up, but far enough away for privacy. 

“Who was almost right J, I’m not a fucking mind reader.” You said, already knowing what he was meaning. 

“Your mom, she was right. I - I almost cheated.” He said. 

You took a step back and stared at him. Your silence caused him to look at you. He was worried because your face was completely blank. 

“I was gone for not even two weeks. Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t even go two fucking weeks without needing to be with someone. Who the fuck are you?! This isn’t the JJ I’ve known since we were kids, he - he would never do something like this.” You screamed throwing your hands up. 

“I -” He started, but you were quick to cut him off. 

“No I don’t care. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your half-assed apologies. I quite frankly don’t give a fuck anymore. You know how I feel about cheating, even if it didn’t fucking happen.” You said, your anger quickly causing you face to flush and tears to appear. 

Your friends were rushing towards you as you looked like you could hurt the boy sat in front of you. 

“Who was it with?” You questioned as he stared at you. 

“Who the fuck was it with JJ?!” You screamed. 

“Amelia. Amelia Vanhal. She - she was trying to push herself on me, I almost gave in. I was drunk, I thought she was you.” He said, letting his gaze fall to the ground. 

“She - she you know what.” You said with a laugh. You started to walk towards him and you were quickly pulled back by John B who was worried what you might do. 

“Let go, I’m not going to do anything to him. He’s not who I want to hurt.” You said with a laugh. Your friends looked at you like you were insane. 

“I’ll be back.” You said swinging your keys as you walked towards your car. 

“Uh, maybe we should go after her.” Kie said quickly. 

................................................................................................................................ You pulled up to your house to see if your mom was still home and smiled when you saw her car. You ran inside and looked at her talking with some girl in the kitchen. 

“Hey mom, we need to have a little chat.” 

“Hold on, I’m busy with Amelia. Almost finished.” She said pulling her wallet out of her purse. 

“I knew you fucking set that shit up. You’re a piece of shit, you know that? AMelia you’re the biggest fucking whore on the island, please try and be less desperate. My boyfriend would never stoop that low when he was sober. Funny you tried to take advantage of him while he was drunk. Also mom, funny you are paying minors to try and fuck another minor. That sounds like that could be bad if that got out.” You said with a laugh. 

“I’ve contacted dad. I won’t be staying here with you anymore because he agrees you aren’t fit to take care of children.”  

You heard footsteps behind you and then felt hands on your waist. 

“Baby, let’s go.” 

You turned towards JJ and followed him out. 

“I’m sorry, I knew my mom had something to do with this once I heard Amelia’s name. She talked about it on the ferry, said you’d leave me for someone like her. Compared you to my dad, which isn’t a bad thing.” You sighed, rubbing your hands on his waist. 

He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, I ignored you for almost two weeks and almost cheated. That’s terrible to do.” 

“Listen, we’ll work on it, alright. I’m just glad you didn’t.” You said pulling him in for a kiss. “Now help me pack my room. I’m moving in with my dad.” You said with a smile. 

He nodded and followed you back in your house and to your room. 

[sokkas-honour]

number 16 w zuzu??

detention - zuko x reader

pairing: zuko x reader

wc: 1.5k with lyrics

notes/warnings: this takes place with s1 zuko so it won’t be too happy. also the relationship isn’t exactly healthy because the song just doesn’t give me space for that. i also switch between talking about zuko and y/n so be warned.

somewhat of a part two

atla taglist: @missmorosis @draqondance @biqherosix

im not a bad guy, so don't treat me bad if im feeling sad, alright?

“y/n!” the banished prince yelled as he violently slammed your door open in the early hours of the morning. you groaned and turned in your bed so your back was facing him, you didn’t want to deal with zuko right now.

“y/n, you’re late. you’re late by thirty minutes.” he stated rather harshly and crossed his arms as he stood his ground by your door, observing you trying to pretend not to hear him.

annoyed, he started to make his way towards you to rip the covers off of your body stopped when he saw the tears stains on your cheek. his hands froze right above the cover, unsure what to do.

you could feel his presence so you reluctantly pushed the covers off of you, causing the ex prince to move back in order not to be slapped by it. you turned to face him and saw the slightest bit of concern etched into his face, you rose your eyebrow in confusion.

“why are you looking at me as if i’ve just come back from the worst fight of my life.” you questioned, your morning voice coming out as slightly raspy, though not as much as zuko’s. you were one of the only people that could talk to zuko however you wanted.

the firelord had ordered you about two years ago to serve as some sort of bodyguard to the banished prince. you had been ripped away from your people and family at a young age, one of the last waterbenders of the southern water tribe. he had decided to spare your life and in turn, you had to serve the young fire nation royalty. between the two siblings, zuko was the kindest to you and often offered to spar with you meaning your water bending contained many firenation forms.

when he’d been burned by his father and sent to find the avatar, you had been assigned to only him. you served as some sort of normality to the young firebender, a way to try and keep him sane. zuko respected you and treated you as a friend but his constant mood swings around you made him extremely unpredictable. nonetheless, he was the only friend you’d ever known and cared immensely for him.

“were you crying?” he spoke up after a short silence had fallen in between the both of you.

“no, why?”

“then why are there tear stains on your cheeks.” he persisted, using his voice that he usually reserved for the guards when they annoyed him.

you sighed, you had forgotten how you’d felt down last night and your mind immediately went to your parents. you still had memories of them but as you grew, they slowly faded more and more which terrified you. the whole fiasco making you fall asleep crying long after midnight.

“forget it, it’s not important. i was just feeling down.” you confessed, sitting up in your bed.

“good because you’re getting extra cleaning duties for missing our sparring station.” any ounce of friendliness that he’d shown a minute ago vanished and you were left with the zuko that the entire crew knew, the angsty, ungrateful and hot headed prince.

please don't be mad if i don't smile back, alright? if i fuck up my words, don't think im absurd, alright?

he left your room and made his way towards the front of the boat, leaving you dumbfounded and confused to his 180 towards you.

zuko never knew how to express his emotion to begin with but when it came to you, he was clueless on how to act. you made him feel things that he wasn’t use to, you constantly tried to make him feel loved, something that he’d only received from his mother and it confused him. he hated that he’d caught feelings for his friend and the only way he knew how to act was aggressiveness. so, whenever you showed respect he gave it to you back but whenever you showed him affection, you only received aggressiveness.

he was always terrified of you waking one day and deciding to be furious at his lack of emotional connection with you, and you had every right to do that, frankly he was surprised you still hadn’t cracked. every morning, you’d greet him with the biggest smile on the deck of the boat to start your sparring session, and practically every morning, you were met with a grumble and an emotionless face.

he truly had no idea how to deal with your kindness and patience, he knew that if he was in your place, he would’ve yelled at himself much earlier. zuko just didn’t deserve you for the way he treated you, and he completely knew that but a part of him tried his hardest to show some sort of emotion when it was just the two of you.

those moments were limited but, on those occasions, you’d watch him try and put his feelings into word, he always failed miserably which always earned him an encouraging smile from you.

alright? im physically exhausted

you dragged yourself out of bed, that wasn’t the first night you’d cried yourself to sleep. being stuck with zuko was fine to extent, you constantly tried to show him only kindness, hoping that one day he’d give it back you all the time and not just on isolated occasions.

the constant kindness on top of your recent longing for your parents and your people completely drained you for any energy.

you sighed and went to close the door as soon as zuko left and got ready for the day, throwing on a random red tunic. you took a quick look in your mirror to make sure you didn’t look like a complete mess and you completely saw why zuko’s intial reaction to seeing you was concern, you looked terrible. your hair was dishevelled, your cheeks were red and had a faint tear trail, your eyes were puffy and your eye bags were prominent, meaning anyone could see your lack of sleep in the last couple of days.

the lack of care definitely told you how tired you were but your treasured the fact that you weren’t on zuko’s bad side, you loved your moments together when he’d open up. you knew that if you didn’t follow his orders, which he frankly didn’t give you often, you could easily loose anything you’d built up.

tired of my knuckles beating, im chewing gum to pass this time of sadness

you sat down with the rest of the guards and munched down on your breakfast of rice. munched down is an exaggeration, you simply picked at it. none of them questioned it, you weren’t close to any of them and they simply thought you were brave and foolish to befriend the prince, to deal with his obnoxious behaviour. they were right in their own way.

cant you see it? you're too busy seeking selfish wishes, don't care how im feeling

at the end of the day that’d you spent practically by yourself, you knocked on zuko’s chamber, hoping you could talk to him. he’d built his own habit of coming to yours whenever he’d have a problem or something that troubled him so you assumed you had the right to do the same.

“who is it?” his harsh raspy voice practically yelled from behind the door.

“it’s y/n.” you heard footsteps on the other side approaching the door and he opened it. you smiled slightly as you saw the book that was abandonned on his bed.

“i was wondering if i could talk to you?” you sheepishly asked, raising your hand to scratch the back of your neck. he responded with a nod and moved out of the way so that you could step in. you made your way to his bed and sat on his, waiting for him to join you.

he made his way next you and looked at you expectingly, waiting for you to start telling him what was on your mind.

“i guess you deserve an explanation as to why i’ve been like this in the last couple of days.” you started but he soon interrupted you.

“it’s fine. you can resume aiding me in catching the avatar tomorrow, i’m sure you’ll be fine.” his interruption shocked you, it was just, completely out of place and downright rude.

“you know what zuko.” your usually kind gaze turned harsh as you stood up. “you’re so fucking selfish, i’ve let you come to me whenever you want to tell me about your problems. god forbid you do the same. you could care less about how i’m feeling! you’re so blind and oblivious to how much that hurts! it hurts to care about someone who doesn’t even seem to give an ounce of care about how you feel!”

your voice had risen to the point that the guards outside of his room probably heard you accuse him. annoyed by his selfish actions that hurt you more than you’d care to say, you quickly left his chamber wanting to be alone.

zuko looked at you leave and cursed himself, you were the kindest person and he’d probably hurt you more than he could fathom. god was he stupid.

[razorblade180]

Shackles 9: I’m sorry

[Warning: Blood and Extreme harm] [part 8]

“Let her go!” The cries of a young boy echoed, struggling against his captors as he and his sister were dragged through sickening white halls. All attempts to reach out for her failed as he watched Jasmine get tossed into a room. Sobek continued walking his way however, guiding the men to a separate correctional room. Rajah did his best to struggle but his weak body was thrown harshly into a cold metal chair; the exit door shut tightly with him and Sobek inside. Rajah didn’t even have a chance to move before the feel of mangled fingers pressed against his neck as he was strapped down.

“I told you to keep her under control. Now look at what you’re making me do? Should’ve known better. A beast can’t control another beast.”

“Don’t…hurt her.” He gasped. Sobek finally released his hold. Rajah gasped and coughed for air while the man walked away to a tray of various tools. The light in the room went out except for the wall in front of him, which acted like a screen.

“ Oh I’m not going to hurt her. Not physically with my hands anyways. The guards she hurt might have a thing to say to her but we both know that’ll solve nothing.” Sobek drew up a syringe. “You and I, however, we’re gonna fix you right up and then see how sister dearest acts. Hopefully she’ll become more agreeable. If not…well, it’s a big siblings job to look after the little one.”

Rajah began to panic. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake his restraints as the scientist approached, injecting him in the neck.

“Let’s make you a model big brother…”

xxxx

Across the world, helping hands were reaching out. Blake ran across rooftops to the port in a desperate attempt to get on a leaving ship before it was too late. Out of practice, she took a misstep and nearly lost her balance. Fortunately friends followed closely behind her. Blake felt two hands rebalance her as she continued forward. “Thank you.”

Ilia nodded, “Don’t mention it.”

Blake looked left. Yang didn’t say anything. All she gave was a small nod. It wasn’t much but it made Blake happy. “I’ll make it up to both of you later.”

“Oh that’s a given. Let’s focus on what’s important right now. That ship is already leaving port and that Jacquelyn lady already has a head start. Missing this ship could be bad.”

“So we won’t miss it.” Yang said with conviction. Her gauntlets propelled herself forward and launched herself in the air ahead of others. Yang turned around midair and reached out. “Well!?”

She didn’t even have to say it. Blake grabbed Ilia’s hand then threw Gamble Shroud. Yang grabbed the gun and yanked them so hard they flew by her. Still holding on, Yang felt Blake pull her. She timed a shotgun blast with the tension of the pull to soar ahead as far as possible; yanking both girls again. This rendition of their favorite move cut out a lot of time. It only took a few minutes before all three reached the point of free falling over the boat. Yang lets go of the gun so Blake can anchor to the boat. Ilia took the first opportunity to escape that jarring movement she got, running down the taut ribbon to the ship and pulling it to bring Blake down from air.

Yang realized she might be in a bit of a situation and so did Blake. Tucking and rolling might be pushing her luck when it comes to movement options while she’s expecting. “Uhh Blake?”

“I got you.” Blake didn’t want to jossle her anymore than necessary. She jumped up and caught Yang safely before the blonde could fall any faster. “You okay?”

“Put me down the moment we land!”

Blake didn’t bother arguing. She let go as soon as she touched the floor and watched Yang speed over to the side of the boat to lean over. Thankfully Yang held back whatever tried to come up and everyone was spared the sounds of her puking.

“Yang?”

“Jaune was right. Motion sickness is a big deal. Ugh…”

“Don’t you mean, Vomit Boy?”

“I’ll never call him that again. Too cruel.” Yang walked back over to Ilia and Blake to sit against a wall. “Please tell me this was the right boat? I don’t wanna do that again.”

“Of course it is. It’s the one always going back and forth to Vacou. Sun and I might as well live on this ship.” Ilia pulled out her scroll. “We’ll see port a little after daybreak, so we should all rest and be prepared. I’m going to speak to the captain so nobody thinks we’re a bunch of stowaways.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” A voice called from the front of the boat. The trio looked and gasped to see Jacquelyn walking towards them. “Gunshots aren’t the quietest thing in the world. Also one of you literally lights up, so there’s that. I thought you would’ve tagged out by now.

“And I thought you would’ve been long gone by now.”

Jacquelyn rested on the railings to watch the waves. “If it were up to me I’d be there already, but I don’t control boat schedules now do I? Good thing. Not entirely sure what I’m walking into. So yeah, thanks.” Jacquelyn turned to Ilia. “Hey. You’re the chameleon right? Ilia, was it?”

Eyes widened instantly. “Adam spoke of me?”

“When it was relevant, but yeah. Said that you’re pretty capable at what you do. Glad you’re tagging along.”

“Wish I could say the same. I have lots of questions and I have a feeling the answers are with you.” Ilia crossed her arms. Being out of the loop was a pain in the ass she couldn’t stand.

“As much as I love stories, now isn’t the best time. However…” her attention turned to Blake. “I think the two of us might need one. A brief, but important one. Alone.”

Blake looked around. “It will just be a moment you two.”

“Sigh…fine.”

“Take your time.” Yang added.

Jacquelyn took Blake by the hand to lead her to the front. “I could tell from a glance that you’re troubled. Spit it out.”

“…I’ve learned about what we’re dealing with. Ilia told me what we might face and why. Back in the desert I told you my beliefs run to my core.”

“Don’t tell me that’s changed?”

“I’m telling you sorry. Apparently my efforts as High Leader haven't even scratched the surface. I thought things were progressing steadily but we’re heading to a place that’s about to prove everything is still the same. Spite is alive and thriving.”

“Hehe, and? We both know you were aware of that. So why don’t you come out and just ask-”

“How?” Blake said, balling her fist. “If what you claim is true, then how do you do it? How are you changing someone who’s that spiteful when I can’t reach people like him at all? I’m not sure if I’m reaching anyone right now. I feel…”

“Stupid? You’re not. Naive? I’d say more optimistic.” Jacquelyn put her hand on Blake’s shoulder. “Impatience, that’s what’s got you. Don’t look at me for guidelines because frankly I’m selfish and never bothered looking at the bigger picture when it comes to humanity. You’re different. You know what path you want to take but hesitate to get pushy with it, compromising without realizing it. A flexible leader is good but if you are certain about the way you want things then Blake Belladonna, don’t you dare compromise.”

Blake felt Jacquelyn’s grip tighten. The woman’s eyes went cold and Blake knew her next words would be the most important.

“We’re heading to a place that can only be hell. Blake, you’ll find the real answer to all your questions soon enough. Don’t run from it.”

The meaning to those words reached her, yet Blake knew she’d only truly grasp it in the moment. “Understood.”

“Good. I have a bad feeling about tomorrow. I should probably rest but I’m sure it’s in my best interest to give your friend at least a little bit of info.”

“I can handle that.”

“No, worry about Yang instead. I want all of us at least a little bit at peace.” Ilia walked back over to the other two. “Changed my mind. Story time, squirt.” She took Ilia’s hand.

“Hey!”

“Don’t fight it. I’m too tired for resistance. Yang?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good. Uhh thanks, I guess.”

Yang watched them leave and Blake came back seconds later to sit next to her. The two sat quietly, the sound of waves crashing on one another. “I won’t pretend I’m suddenly okay with all of this. But…I want us to be okay. So I’ll put in the leg work.”

“Heh. Yang, you’re always okay with me. Leg work or not, following me is your choice. Don’t think you owe me anything.”

“Stop being a dummy. I swear you’ve always been like this. How many people gotta say it? You don’t choose what your friends do.”

“Then you should choose to be okay with me.”

Blake looked at Yang’s unblinking face with a smile. Deep down, the bruiser's heart felt as if a weight was lifted. A sense of overwhelming joy couldn’t be contained. “So, we’re okay then.” Yang lifted her fist. “Partners forever.”

Blake bumped her fist. “Forever.”

Frayed bonds may be fragile, but as long as strings remain linked, mending was an outcome. Blake and Yang were living proof, and with a little luck…so would Adam. Life wasn’t always a fairytale unfortunately. One bond may have strengthened tonight, but it wasn’t the only one being tested. There was another, fraying from unseen eyes; until it snapped.

xxxxx

Hours passed underground. Jasmine couldn’t tell when the beatings stopped or started anymore. Every single nerve had been screaming, her ears ringing. The sensitivity drug she had been injected with during her first round of correction never wore off, so the second dose they gave only fueled the anguish. The lights of the labs have prevented her from seeing. Not that she wanted to look at anyone or herself for that matter. All she could tell was she was moving. What was bright became dark rhythmically. Jasmine’s vision, as blurry as it was, made fuzzy images that could only be people. One blob was raised higher than the rest. Had to be Adam. Strange, it wasn’t moving like the rest. It didn’t move at all. However, Jasmine could faintly make out yelling. “Get up!” She didn’t know if it was for her but it chilled her all the same. Loud creaking accompanied moments after. Jasmine suddenly felt weightless until a pulse of pain shot through her back; followed by more creaking and a loud metal thunk.

Jasmine did her best to move. It took time, a lot of it, but she eventually got to her knees. The lack of light helped her vision sort itself out; as well as slightly dwindled her senses. Enough to think without too much pain. “Why hurt me just throw me behind bars?” An attempt to stand only led back to her face deep in dirt. “O...ow”

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this tired.”

Jasmine’s body stiffened. She turned her head towards the inside of the cell with all her strength. Deep in the shadows reeked blood, but beyond that… “Rajah? Rajah is that you?” There was no mistaking that scent. “Rajah! You’re here. I’m so hap-h..happ…” her heart nearly stopped. Every fiber of her felt cold. Jasmine’s very soul trembled while her eyes remained fixed on Rajah as he got closer. His eyes looked glassed over. And his ears…they weren’t on his head, but mangled tightly in his fist.

“Need help? I can sit you up.” He approached closer.

“Ra..Ra…”

“What’s wrong? Throat dry? Oh…this?” He dropped his ears on the floor, ignoring them and the fresh blood that still leaked down his face and soaked his hair. “No big deal.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Not as much as you. Honestly I feel a lot better. Hehe, weird right?” He smiled, chuckling ever so slightly. “He won’t hurt me anymore. Sobek won’t hurt you either. I promise.”

She wanted to run. Jasmine didn’t know where but she wanted to run as fast as possible, but all her legs did was shake as Rajah kept getting closer with his smile on full display. Tears welled up, her ears folding down. “Pl..Stop it.” What did Sobek do to her brother? “Rajah you’re scaring me. You’re- ah!” His hands reached her throat faster than she could blink. Jasmine gasped as her brother pinned her onto her back and began to squeeze. His vacant eyes stared deep into her own terror filled and weeping ones, kicking frantically underneath him the whole time.

“Aww it’s okay. Sobek’s not gonna hurt us anymore! You see I figured it out! The pain stops when there’s nothing to look at. Hahaha! Sobek wasn’t mad at me. Just my ears! Once I ripped them,he wasn’t angry anymore Jasmine! He said he’d never be angry at me again.” Though vacant and laughing, Rajah’s own tears started falling. “He finally stopped hurting me…! And when you stop kicking, you won’t hurt me either. You’ll wake up like me and be left alone, so listen to your big brother okay? Okay!?” Clenched teeth gritted against one another, drooling with spit and blood. Rajah wasn’t smiling anymore. “Why couldn’t you listen to me?” His bloodied hands dug in.

Jasmine’s nails broke the skin of his wrists. Her lungs burned and vision became blurry again, but she could hear him perfectly. The laughter, the ragged breathing as hearts raced. Her head spun but all her mind could think of was his words. Why didn’t she listen? The thought turned into wondering why this happened? The beatings, torture, seclusion; it wasn’t his fault. Rajah didn’t deserve this. It was all her. Why couldn’t it just be her? The caring eyes she loved, they weren’t staring back. Only her reflection looked back, and Jasmine couldn’t stomach the sight. Narrowed eyes and clenched jaw, Jasmine shut her eyes and let a guttural noise of pain and immense rage while the world as she knew it faded into dark.

“I’m sorry…”

[thebonggirll]

Chapter 38 - A Fair Fight

Chapter 37

"Aww you got new features," Y/N said standing cautiously, her brows creased.

"And you're still..." he scanned her figure, looking for details in her costume, "as boring as ever."

Whoosh. Beep.

"Oh really?" his eyes widened as he heard her whisper near his left ear, one of his target gone red. Y/N slid back to her position as fast as she came near him. Ofcourse she wasn't going to let an opportunity like this go away. "Doesn't really change anything, does it now?"

Oikawa smirked, a sense of excitement ran through his veins.

"Why are you laughing-" Y/N couldn't finish her sentence, but she saw him move for just a second and immediately covered her unmarked targets on her thigh and stomach, "dumbass."

"Ooh babe you learned new moves huh?" he laughed as he got blocked as soon as he tried to make a surprise attack like her.

"So did you!" Y/N smiled and used her hand to punch him on the stomach which he blocked, but it made him bend just a little bit and she swung her feet trying to hit him on his face but he blocked it again with his hand and Y/N immediately let go off him as he used his electricity to shock her. She gasped, still shaking a bit from his last attack and shouted, "Dude are you fucking insane?!"

"Oh no, but my hero costume is," he said, charging towards her using a similar fast move like Y/N's, "I just got some added features you see."

She blocked it too, and yelled, "You brought all the freaking features available with yourself or something?!" Holding his head, she dumped it down on her knee hitting his forehead.

Bad move.

She saw his hand move towards her thigh target, and was fast enough to slide back, kicking his shin in the process.

"It really boosts up my quirk you know?" Oikawa said as she released some of boiling water to his face, trying to distract him enough to get close and hit his second target. But he had something else in mind.

Well, he made sure to use the features added to his hero costume in his feet to move fast enough. And even if he didn't have the kind of quirk to move as fast as Y/N, he was better than her in using it. What looked like just a fight with surprise moves to the aspiring heroes, looked nothing but water fountain show to the audience. Yeah, only if they slowed down their fight, would the people actually be able to see their moves.

Y/N was panting and looking at her friend, who was equally exhausted to continue this fight cause it was going literally no where. She landed some sharp cuts and boiling water, enough to injure him just like she was hit with the moves he landed on her. "You see Y/N, I have to work twice as hard cause the only way I can use my quirk is if I touched water. Unlike you, I don't have the advantage of making water out of thin air. So this fight is important for myself," he panted as he moved fast towards her again, but as Y/N dodged his fist, she heard a scream and looked behind herself realizing that among the two students she attacked earlier, one of them was awake and wanted to use his red ball on her when she was distracted. Oikawa used his electric hand feature of his costume and gave him a shock enough to faint. "And no one other than me is allowed to end you today," he said.

It almost made her feel sorry for him but she didn't exactly have the time yet. Noticing his costume, and almost dry hand gloves, she got the idea of how to disable this new electric feature he had. Y/N heard the announcement of only 20 students left to enter and used a huge gush of water towards him, trying to wet him and like the kind of expert he was, he immediately dodged and landed a hard blow on her stomach, the target's glass on her stomach cracked a bit. She gasped, trying to breathe, and move away as fast as she could, but he landed another blow on her back.

"I wanted a fair fight so there it is. By the way, the gloves aren't so loosely developed that it will get damaged as soon as your water touches it. I don't know the details of it's manufacture cause frankly that's for the support department to know. But you really think I won't think of it having a water-based quirk myself?" he said, his tone was serious and that's the most seriousness she has ever got from him - from the cheerful Oikawa.

And for the first time ever, she found it so hard to breathe that she didn't even have the energy to move away. She knew he was good at fighting but she didn't know he was holding back in the training. Either that or he definitely got better. Using her quirk on him, she tried to make him move away desperately.

She used it enough for him to maintain distance after some time. But...

"Oh now that there's enough water for me," he said and she watched as he was moving his hand, she realized it. There was no time to react. She had to do something before his hands touched the water that trailed up to her. Ofcourse he had a plan all along. But she needs to use her head and come up with something in seconds. His dodging skills were amazing as well as his fighting skills. But there was one weakness.

Y/N didn't feel the need to feel better. She screamed and used her quirk like Bakugou and blasted off into the air, moving fast towards him before he understood what was happening. As she had known, he was good. As soon as she was near him, he used his electricity on her. Her mind was still working properly though. She moved her hands towards his head and gripped it tightly, making a small water bubble around his head. His eyes widened as he tried to leave but he couldn't.

After a while, he was only using his strength to move her away, but she was good at taking hits now. As he looked like he could faint if she did any more of that, she stopped using her quirk and he dropped down on the floor. Now, it was his turn to gasp.

Eyes red and coughing, he looked at her from the ground and asked, "What are you waiting for? Do it."

Y/N sighed and crouched near his lying exhausted body, "You wanted a fair play Oikawa. But you didn't think things through did you? These things on your costume isn't exactly a fair fight. These did give you a boost but I still managed to find your weakness. Took me sometime considering how good you're at masking it."

"Don't give me a lecture," he said looking away.

"Look, I get it that you're insecure about your quirk but that's what got you into hero course in the first place. No amount of technology can be better than your own quirk. You..barely used it Oikawa," she observed his face for a while and used her red balls to hit on rest of the targets on his body, "Well, I won't push it but talk to me about it when you're ready. I just..didn't expect it to find out this way. You were suppressing anger and it...does kind of hurt you know. Cause I thought everything I did was fine and we were at the point where we can express ourselves freely but...I guess it was just me."

"It's not that easy you know. I'm not angry at you. I'm just...pitying myself and being pathetic. I'll work on it don't worry. I'll try to be more...expressive," Oikawa said finally turning towards her, "But...good move. I didn't expect you to use my own attack back on me."

"Oh that? Well I was sure that you didn't train enough with your quirk and if your hands are focused on me then I can attack your head and try to drown you. I guess even I didn't think of giving back your own attack when I was busy drowning you. No wonder you stopped using electricity. It was going directly from my body to your head huh? And I'm pretty sure you can't do anything with your face. "

"Except killing people with my good looks," he chuckled.

Y/N laughed weakly and rolled her eyes.

"Dude you look awful," Kyoka pointed out at her.

"Yeah, Oikawa thrashed me pretty well," Y/N responded.

"Shit," she said, "He did this to you?!"

"Yeah...I guess it was brutal but a fair fight," she said scanning the room.

"Looking for him already?" Kyoka chuckled.

"Well..I know he's gonna be here. I just want to see his face," Y/N gasped looking at the blonde standing with his friends, "Wait, Kaminari made it too!"

"Yeah, I was surprised too I guess," Kyoka said as a faint blush covered her face, "But I'm glad."

"Ofcourse you are," Y/N grinned and looked at the boys. Kaminari and Mineta were currently angry over Midoriya for seeing a girl naked, "Oh..."

Y/N looked at her best friend's face which slowly turned sour. She said, "Hey, I know he's a bit of a pervert but once you are with him, I'm sure he's all yours."

"No he's not. His fucking pervert brain gonna stay the same I think," she glanced towards another direction and said, "I think Ochaco's finding it hard to digest more than anyone else."

Y/N looked at the girl with pink costume, who was staring at Midoriya. The girls looked at each other and walked towards her. "Well, aren't the boys of our class disappointing?"

Ochaco shot her head towards them and stuttered, trying to come up with an excuse but Y/N interrupted her, "Look we know what it's like." Y/N looked at Bakugou, who didn't even bother to look at her once.

"Oh...you mean Bakugou and Kaminari?" she asked.

"Uh huh," Y/N replied, "Stupid boys."

Finally, a smile came on her face as Ochaco said, "Oh, I guess we're all in the same boat huh?"

"Yeah, so if you need to talk about these stuffs...then we're here for it," Kyoka finally said something.

"I didn't think you would admit in front of her," Y/N said, surprised.

"Well, we need to support each other emotionally in these cases someway right?"

"Bakugou knows...doesn't he?" Ochaco said suddenly.

Y/N face turned red, but she responded, "Uh..yeah I told him a while back and.." she cleared her throat, "he turned me down. How did you know?"

"Like the way you knew I was disturbed. I guess...I connected the dots. He's not so verbally brutal anymore, I mean with you only."

Her eyes widened and she looked at Kyoka, asking if it was true to which she nodded with a smirk.

"Oh bloody hell...I didn't notice," Y/N said looking at the blonde, her heart beating faster than before. She noticed him looking back at her as she turned away quickly, talking to her new sad-unrequited-love-suffering group of friends.

She should have looked longer though. Cause he did.

He noticed her wet appearance and slightly tired figure, but a smile still covering her face. A strange sensation of relief spread in his heart. Without realizing, a bit of his mood turned better. Some part of his worry washed away. He trusted Y/N with her skills more than he did before.

Or....maybe he always did.

Chapter 39

SEASON - III

Ignite

MASTERLIST

Tags:  @honeylemondragonemperor @mikithekiki @kkikiss @garnet-redtailedhero

[monochromemedic]

Ashy Slashy

“What is that Ash?” “A long story, look for some reason that damn sky spider took all my hands and left me with this. Luckily it works... somehow.” He huffed raising the felt puppet on his hand and moving it’s mouth open and closed. “Listen if it starts saying shit, it ain’t me and you gotta cut this thing off pronto, you got me?” I stared into the black button eyes of the muppet, noticing how it was modeled directly after the man holding it. “So... it’s alive?” “Deadite, but I don’t know if those things are ‘alive’. Frankly I don’t give a shit, they all should be dead but the world ain’t perfect.” He grumbled twisting his hand towards himself to look the creature in the eyes. “You hear me? You should be dead buddy.” Silence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I tried to picture what exactly this thing could do that was dangerous.  With all the stories Ash told, even the most mundane things could become dangerous when possessed by Evil. But those things usually transformed or had a dangerous quality to them already, some supernatural strength or claws and fangs. Unless this thing would suddenly grown bones, it’d have to be a rather weak demon wouldn’t it? Then again, that’s usually how these things work, they’d prey on your naive nature, your fears, every weakness you had, that was the deadites strength.  The night seemed to carry on without much trouble. Not a single sound from the puppet’s mouth despite the glares, insults and abuse from Ash to try to get it to talk. It was obvious he was paranoid, then again why wouldn’t he be. A deadite on your hand that you had to have or else be left without a limb. Sure he could have taken it off but having to be ready to run off into the fog at a moments notice to fight for your life was probably a good reason to take a risk, that or he couldn’t.... A few times I saw him walk off to the darkness, out of the light of the campfire to pull and yank at the puppet to no avail. He’d eventually sigh and go to the bathroom or return to the soft bustle of activity, acting like nothing had happened. As the ‘night’ carried on people began to settle in, grabbing their sleeping bags, ripped up mattresses or walking off into wherever the campfire had put us to find a place to sleep. Usually it was somewhere with enough stray objects to entertain ourselves, or something we could call our own private area at least until the campfire moved us to another campfire in another realm. I grabbed my blankets and pillows, settling down besides Ash’s stained mattress for the night. Ash’s chest rose and fell in monotonous motions, his face caught in a strange scene of peace. I smiled, beginning to close my eyes only to catch the shape of the puppet staring directly at me. A wave of discomfort flooded my senses and my brows knitted anxiously. He couldn’t be alive. Ash was trying all day to get him to speak, and deadites usually break a few minutes in. I just had to relax, I was just getting paranoid. “You got a staring problem toots?” My eyes shot back towards the puppet, it’s head now tilted at an angle it wasn’t at before.  Oh god Ash wasn’t crazy... “Well? I know I’m the most handsome guy around but unfortunately I’m not into fatties. But if I turn my head now maybe I can make it work...” He spoke, his pacman mouth opening and closing with every word. I’d feel insulted, well I did, but if what Ash said as true and he was a Deadite they preyed on the weakness of others.  “Why are you speaking now? You didn’t seem to speak to Ash all day.” I hissed, remembering Ash’s words to kill it as soon as it talked. As much as I’d love to tak his word, if what I saw was true Ash couldn’t get him off, and so I’d have to make a bit of a scene to try. And what to pry him off with was another question I didn’t have the answers to at the moment. “Like I could speak to him, not since what happened last time. It was like a bad break up, real messy.” The puppet smacked his chainsaw hand against Ash’s nose, moving the real Ash’s arm in the process. How the hell did he do that? How much control did he have over Ash? “So you gonna take me up on the deal? I’ve had to hold this guy’s dick in my mouth when he pissed, a guy could use a little stress relief. A motorboat would really get my motor running~” The puppet shook his head, making a loud motor boating sound as it lurched forward. I quickly grabbed it’s head and pushed it back, alarmed by how fast this thing could move. “Get the hell away from me you creep, you should be lucky I haven’t killed you by now.” “You really gonna listen to Ash’s tall tales. He’s probably going through dementia, he can’t remember what he had for breakfast. However, I know alot.” I raised a brow, sitting up from my collections of blankets and pillows. “What are you on about?” “I got a direct line to Ash’s twisted mind. Every and any dark secret you ever wanted to know from the man, I could give you for a low price.”  “...Any secret?” “Any. Secret. And oh boy does this guy keep em. First kiss, most embarrassing moment, what he’s packing... it’s all yours. All we gotta do is make a deal.” I turned away from the deadite, reaching for my glasses to hopefully find something to pry this guy off. “Sorry but I don’t make deals with demons. Those are Ash’s secrets. If he wants to tell me them, he can of his own free will. Also you could just lie or kill me before telling me anything so.” I moved towards the fire, picking up a nearby stick and lightening the end in fire before returning to the deadite, my hand wrapping around it’s neck tightly. The puppet began to squirm, arms wiggling in panic as the burning wood approached Ash’s arm. “Okay, Okay no deal, I’ll tell you straight up just let me stay on his nub! Don’t you wanna know how he feels about you?” Ashy Slashy squealed, desperation in every movement he could muster. I felt my hand pause, eyes shifting over to the sleeping figure just a few inches away. “He thinks you’re a pathetic little BITCH!” The muppet roared, it’s eyes now white, mouth full of razor sharp teeth. The creature managed to move it’s head in just the right position to sink it’s fangs into my hand causing me to yelp and jerk my hand away in pain. It didn’t let go, and pulled the still sleeping Ash along with him. Was he just a heavy sleeper or was it something unnatural, a forced sleeping state that Ashy Slashy put on him? My eyes darted around the area, at the lack of survivors around us except for Jeff a few feet away. Damn it why was he a heavy sleeper? “Ash wake up! Ash!”  “Too late babycakes, his body is all mine. Been working my way to his noggin all day~” The body jerked and with a sudden jolting movement  Ash sat up, his head slowly turning to face me despite his closed eyes. No way, was Ash really gone? No... no that couldn’t be, Ash survived hell and back, no way a stupid felt puppet was the one to do him in. The real Ash’s other arm shot out, gripping my shirt to pull me closer to his body. Ash could easy over power me, one hand or not. I still had a chance, I still had the stick. But where to aim? If the puppet really did have full control over Ash, would trying to jolt him awake by burning him do anything? I gripped the stick hard, using all my strength to pierce the puppet’s eye with the burning wood. A spurt of blood erupted from the socket, staining the felt and earning a scream from the bastard. A scream that lasting just long enough for it’s teeth to dislodge from my hand. I yanked the stick from the creature and began to scramble for Jeff, managing to grab the edge of his sleeping bag just as Ash’s arm wrapped around my leg, yanking me towards the fire pit. “You dumb whore, I was gonna go easy on you!” Ashy hissed, pushing my bare foot into the embers of the pit, causing a scream to rip from my chest. “Mmm, flame broiled bitch. My favorite!” The pain was intense and every second longer my foot stayed in the fire, the more I could feel the nerve endings begin to die, the smell of burning flesh filling the air around us. I gasped and pushed down the bile that began to form the more I thought about what was happening, trying to focus on the situation. I could do this, I just needed to wake Jeff up. I jabbed the stick into Jeff’s leg, twisting and digging the wood until it splintered under my strength. Jeff may have been a heavy sleeper, but even he wasn’t immune to being stabbed awake. His head rose sharply, nose scrunched in anger, ready to angrily bark at whoever caused him to wake, only to catch sight of the scene unfolding in front of him. “Jeff! Get the puppet off of Ash!” His eyes darted to Slashy, it’s head tilting at the new player in the game. “You really think homeless Jesus is gonna help you? You just made this one course meal a buffet! Jeff didn’t question me for a second, lurching forward and yanking with all his might at the creatures base. A loud, wet, ripping sound filled the air, one that seemed to grow in volume before being silenced by a clothesline strike from Ash, knocking Jeff to the ground. We laid in awe of the sight before us, crawling away from the lumbering figure that stood before us. Ash’s arm was soaked in rotten blood, blood not from himself but from the creature sitting atop his mutilated wrist. Where a clean cut should have been was instead tendons, ripped and torn connecting fabric to flesh. The muscles began to stretch, as Ashy rose, a mess of muscles raising it further from Ash’s arm like a cobra ready to strike.  The small chainsaw began to rev, before Slashy lurched towards Jeff, the umbilical cord snapping with such force a splatter of crimson painted the grass around us. Jeff’s raised hand was no protection from the saw, cutting into his palm with ease. If it wasn’t so tiny, it could have easily cut straight though the shield and into the skull of the survivor. Jeff cried in pain but tried his best to latch on to the puppet, following the only instructions he was given. I knew I had to help, despite the numbing pain in my foot, despite the horror pounding in my chest. We were getting somewhere, we could save Ash. I pushed myself upwards, rushing and slamming my weight against the slumbering chosen one. I felt his body follow through, our body’s falling against the mattress in a spray of blood and stray tendons. I heard the deadite scream in agony, screaming expletives before increasing in volume as Jeff threw it into the firepit, a surge of light erupting from the pit for the new kindling it had received. For a moment all was quiet. No screams, no sounds of movement. Only the sounds of ragged breaths and the roar of a well fed fire. My fingers clawed at Ash’s shirt, my nose brushing against his jawline as I begged for him to wake up. “Ash... Ashley? Ash, please wake up, come on...” I gritted my teeth, tears beginning to prick the edges of my eyes as I began to fear for the worse. “Wake up you old bastard!” I slapped his cheek, fingers leaving fresh lines of blood along his skin. The shock of pain seemed to do the trick as he groaned in pain, eyes snapping open. “Hng! Huh? What? What are you doing...on me...” His voice trailed off as he saw the gore in front of him, the man nursing his wound a few feet away, the bloodied clothes of the people around him. He cautiously raised his hand, seeing the puppet was no longer in his place but instead was place in the fire, the only trail of it was the strange muscly appendage that decorated the ground, leading it’s way back to Ash. “I knew that creep was up to something... I shouldn’t have gone to sleep.” Ash muttered, a tinge of regret lingering with every word. True regret for what had happened as if he had some control over the situation. I felt his arms wrap around me, his big hand beginning to rub circles to try to give some comfort to the horrifying situation. “He had you move... You weren’t waking up, I thought you... “ “Shh, hey... I wouldn’t go out like that are you kidding me? I ain’t going out to a muppet rip off.”  I shuttered against him, burying my face into his chest to hide the hot wet tears that began to fall with every shaky breath. He didn’t seem to judge, knowing the fear of losing loved ones all too well.

[jaepies]

𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙣 - haikyuu!!

oikawa x fem!reader

mafia au

chapter 1 : probably shouldn’t have seen that

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

it was a monday morning. Possibly one of the worst days of the week in your humble opinion. it was not the fact that it was the first day of a very long school week that was bringing your mood down. not to say that it did not help contribute to your agitated state.

you were angry that it had already been a few weeks and you were no closer to getting your revenge on the brown-haired man who you had recently learnt that his name was oikawa.

no thanks to the swarm of fan-girls that constantly followed his every step, worshipping the ground he walked on and fainting at the mere sight of him.

frankly, it annoyed you. you did not understand what made him so attractive or likeable. after all, all he did was make you feel terrible and then walk all over you like some filth-ridden pavement. 

unbeknown to you, the anger that you were feeling had etched itself onto your face. this was made evident by the obvious stares of your classmate, it was only the second week back at school and you felt like you have had enough attention to last the rest of your high school experience.

it's all because of that poop head.

the quicker you could get your revenge, the quicker he could leave your thoughts and as a consequence, your head would hurt less.

you have been doing too much thinking these past few days,

exhaling a deep sigh, you lay your head in the palm of your hands and the attention of the classmates returning to the teacher. you finally felt at peace until there was a sensation of something hitting your back.

turning around, there were no obvious signs as to who could have thrown this at you however, your curiosity was soon cured as you immediately got your answer.

"don't even try and be first in the dining hall. we both know that we'll get lunch first no matter what, that's just how the school works boo.

you should also get rid of that frown on your face, it's not a good look. apparently, they make you age faster and i don't think you want to look like a grandma more than you already do.

- the man who still waiting for an apology for injuring him, oikawa ;)"

did i forget to mention that pooikawa was in your class?

you had to suffer every single lesson and period with his infuriating presence clouding your vision for hours.

grabbing the nearest pen out of your pencil case, you quickly scribbled a reply on a fresh piece of paper out of your notebook. it was not neat but hey this was a reply fuelled by anger and hatred, who said it had to be pristine?

when the teacher was not looking, you took action. as you took into account all the possible variables that would occur when thrown, you aimed the scrunched up ball slightly to the right. you stuck your tongue out as you tried to figure out the projectile. the exact angle and height to the throw of the ball had to be perfect before launching the grenade.

satisfyingly, you watched it hit the temple of the great man himself before facing the front not wanting to get caught but you cheered silently on the inside.

"mission success, the target was successfully destroyed!"

seems like a dramatic way to think but it was just your nature.

whilst beaming as you reflected on your recent achievements, a wooden stick thumped your head.  as a reflex, you pulled up your hands, gingerly, to rub your head and to help soothe the pain you were feeling. the teacher stood there, looking at you; seething with rage. he seemed to hold a familiar scrunched ball in his clenched fist. you wanted to die right there as it dawned on you that it was your note to oikawa.

"(y/n) (l/n), you know passing notes is unacceptable in class especially with language as vulgar as this."

you internally cringed as you remembered using some not so colourful language in the heat of the moment when writing your response.

"sir, I am so sorry. it will not happen again. i sincerely apologise."

"i hope you stay true to that as this better not happen again."

there was a pause and you thought this was the end of the scolding with no punishment in sight. 

"meet me in the teachers' office after school."

groaning as you realised you allowed yourself to celebrate too early, you caught oikawa smirking his always stupid smirk. however, this time it seemed very much direct at you and as you were already annoyed; you tried sending him your worse glare even though you did not have the energy to do so.

lunchtime eventually rolled around and you were still dismal from class. hikari and your other friends noticed your difference in mood but were not sure as to whether they should mention anything because they did not want to aggravate you even further.

until hikari did the unthinkable and actually talked to you.

"y/n why are you so pissy today and stop picking at your food. either eat it or dump it because i'm not letting you ruin my appetite."

everyone else looked at hikari with worry evident in their eyes; you were unpredictable when feeling miserable.

"hikari~,"

you were blubbering like a child and holding onto hikari's arm like it would save your life.

"i have to meet the teacher after school because i passed a note in class."

at this point, there were most definitely tears brimming and threatening to spill.

"oh y/n, that's not so bad. everyone has sent a note in class before, you are not the first and you are not the last."

"you don't get it. i swore in that note and now i am going to get detention when i go to the teachers' office and then my school record will be ruined and then that's all universities will see when they look at my application and then no one will want me and then i'll rot in a hole because i wasn't able to go to university and get employed and make money,"

you paused for a breath,

"AND IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF THE DICKHEAD, OIKAWA."

your rant seemed to have come to an end and your friends looked at you like you were an alien who had grown two million heads. nonetheless, you could not blame them because you definitely sounded crazy.

hikari patted you awkwardly, trying to comfort you. She knew that what you needed was time to calm down and rationalise the fact that your life was not over just because you may potentially get detention. you had been a straight-A student for your whole life with a clean record and she knew as much as you would have liked to keep it that way, a single detention was not going to ruin your chances of going to a prestigious university.

dabbing your eyes which prevented any tears to fall, you sat upright and pieced your dignity and pride back together like humpty dumpty.

"you are right hikari, my life isn't over but there is something I need to do."

"no, wait. y/n don't go do anything stupid."

knowing that you were probably going to see oikawa, she let you be. Whatever floated your boat. exhausted, she turned back to her lunch and resumed eating.

meanwhile, you were storming down the corridors. everyone was moving out of your way out of fear of being trampled on.

you knew exactly where the he-devil would be. it was the same place every lunchtime, every day at the same hour.

the school gym.

surprisingly, there were not any students loitering around the area. you noticed that even the birds were not tweeting as they did around the rest of the school. you thought just shrugged it off though by concluding that the students were probably too scared to disturb the volleyball team's practice.

casting a glance at the metal doors and not thinking twice, you pushed the heavy bar handle to open it. with every ounce of your strength, the door flung open. allowing you to see the whole gym.

then there was a loud silence.

looks of horror fell upon the whole volleyball team's faces as they froze in their positions from the sight of you. no one had ever dared to burst in as you had done so they never locked the door but that didn't mean that they wanted others to see what they did in the gym.

your jaw was slack from the sight before you.

there was the volleyball team, the high school volleyball team, holding real-life guns and dangerous-looking knives were laid out on display on the cold, hard ground. punching bags were dotted around the gym which was being utilised by the various members before your sudden entrance. instead of wearing the school's distinct tracksuits, the volleyball team were sporting leather jackets and ripped jeans like they were in some gang.

unable to gather your thoughts, you continued to gape into the room until your eyes landed on the familiar face of oikawa. his face was dark from being caught off guard like this.

stuttering and shaking, you pointed at him.

"t-this is not what a volleyball team looks like. what kind of volleyball team is this?"

that was all you could barely get out as a high pitched squeal. you were flabbergasted and confused. they were holding actual guns, that was illegal, right?

not wanting to see anymore, you decided to pelt off at full speed. not realising that someone else was following you, wondering what your next move was.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

[saiilorstars]

Chapter 1: Welcome Back

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

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x OFC

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

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

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

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought you would…"

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Detective," Amarrah corrected with a smirk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

"How's that?" she grinned ecstatically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What else is there, Freya?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Like?"

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

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

Freya snickered, "Some words."

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...My lady, why are you crying?…

…No reason, simple...family issues…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was being polite!"

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

Lucien nodded with great pride, "Well…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1002 A.D. France.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who is that?" Klaus asked, curiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello?"

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

"I switched venues!" Freya chuckled.

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

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

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

Freya's eyes widened, "Oh, dear…"

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

"Yes," Elijah nodded.

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amarrah gulped, "Oh...really?"

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...this is sick torture, Tristan…

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

...it is immoral, inhumane…

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cami nodded and gently took Yamilet away with her.

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought we went past that…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Klaus, the chains!" she exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lucien has a way with words that—"

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

"Mal—"

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He'll kill you!" Freya snapped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ 0 ~

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

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

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

"But he brought you in nonetheless and I doubt he did that because 'there was no one else'. He knew you knew your stuff. You're not an amateur."

"I would thank you for the comment but I'm kinda of upset with you if you haven't noticed."

Kinney smiled smugly as he got out of the car. "I finished up the end of that video you were watching. Lucien Castle? Highly motivating. Feeling like my best self already."

Suddenly Amarrah's annoyance vanished from her face and was replaced with due concern for the man. That was exactly what she wanted to avoid. "Nothing's concrete, I was just...looking into the new tourists that came in yesterday," Amarrah swallowed hard.

"And the brief notes on him?"

"Just...brief. It's nothing set on stone."

Kinney stared long and hard at the French woman before warmly smiling. "You could very well report me but you haven't, because you know I was right about your family. You're not a suspect, Amarrah. I'm actually looking out for you. I think you're mixed up in something much bigger than you realize."

Amarrah would've scoffed at such irony if she was conversing with anyone else. "Trust me, I realize." She was going to add more onto that when she heard snippets of the radio from inside the car. "Wait…" she turned to the car, "Turn up the radio…"

Confused, Kinney reached inside and did as she wanted. As soon as he did, they both heard announcements over the murders.

"While police refuse to release information, sources allege that a manhunt is on for a possible serial killer. Two violently mutilated bodies entirely drained of blood have been recovered..."

"How the hell did they know about the blood?" Kinney anxiously, and beyond confused, looked at Amarrah, the witch unable to come up with anything herself.

~ 0 ~

Back at Lucien's apartment, he had the very journalist behind the newest article that consisted of all the murder details. He took a glass of blood from her and headed into his bedroom, leaving the journalist to look over her article for a while.

He meant to return the briefcase that consisted of ingredients he used to cure himself of Jackson's bite, but became distracted by a leather-bound journal in the trunk. He picked up the journal and opened it up to the same page he always did when he came across it. Even though the drawing was over a thousand years old, he firmly believed the drawing of Cecilia de Ark remained as beautiful as she had been in her time. But then came the memories of her tragic ending, and he felt the fury that he had felt on that day...and never ceased to disappear completely. Those who caused her death would have their ending, and very soon.

~ 0 ~

Freya walked into the lounge room with an ice pack in hand, and found Elijah nervously pacing back and forth. "Dare I ask what's wrong now?" she sighed, slightly amused.

Elijah eyed the iced pack for a minute, when Freya gestured to her bruised forehead, and he dismissed it. "I received some unsettling information from Lucien Castle. I don't trust the source, but I... trust you."

Freya nodded, and in the next couple of minutes she had him and Klaus downstairs in the courtyard, preparing a spell that consisted of Klaus' blood and several other herbs.

"If you fed on this prophetic witch, her blood is still in your system. If there's a weapon that can kill you, we need to know," Freya lighted a tall, black candle and placed it on the center of the table where it would be surrounded by other small, lite white candles. She grabbed the bowl with Klaus' blood and put it down in front of three strips of papers with Norse runes on them, meant to have the names of the three remaining Originals.

Nervously, Freya dunk her fingers into the bowl, thus beginning the spell. "No mentre le prophecie que la otra ve. No mentre le prophecie que la otra ve."

As soon as she did, she felt the overwhelming power curse through her body. Her two brothers became concerned when blood began oozing from her right ear. She chanted louder, and more aggressively, but as she did more blood appear came from her other ear, and nose.

"Freya, stop!" Elijah reached out for her but Freya was now in depth with the visions of the -so-called prophecy.

She saw Elijah's painting that hung in one of the rooms being splashed with blood, as well as a beast with large, long and sharp fangs roaring and blaring out bloody teeth.

Out of the nowhere, the three strips of paper burst into flames. Freya came back, gasping deeply and opening her eyes. Although the flames slowly died out on their own, Freya looked worse for wear.

"It's true," she said grimly, "You have a terrible shadow over you. Rebekah, too. If this prophecy is fulfilled, you will all fall. One by friend, one by foe, and one...by family."

~ 0 ~

New York

A young woman with straight, long black hair, finely dressed and wearing black, rounded sunglasses, walked into a diner, momentarily scanning the area until she spotted the person she came in for. She walked towards a booth where a young man was sitting. She glanced over a map settled on the table, and the laptop sitting in front of the man.

Upon seeing her, the young man smiled and motioned her to sit across him, "I'm glad you came."

"You knew very well I was on my way back to England," the woman berated him in a thick English accent, but smiled widely as if unsurprised the man had pulled that type of stunt. She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing bright blue eyes behind, and leaned forwards, "So, what was so important you just had to pull me from my jet, Xavier?"

The man, Xavier, chuckled and turned his laptop around, immediately capturing her attention. Xavier smiled proudly then, "Good, huh? I found that a couple hours ago."

"Lucien Castle," the woman breathed in, "What about him!?"

"It seems like he's donated a large amount of money to clean up a bayou, near…" Xavier drew out the word as he went to the map of the United States, pointed to the spot of New Orleans, "...here."

"Really? And you're telling me because…?"

"Well, over the last year or so, there have been reports of strange disappearances, and fights in the French Quarter. And now suddenly the old vampire Lucien is heading over there? Why?"

The woman's eyes widened, the delight pouring from her eyes, "You think, that...he's there?"

The man smirked and gave a nod, "I am willing to bet my life that if you were to go there, you would find Klaus Mikaelson."

[nazyalenskyy-archive]

mini big bang!

written for the grishaverse mini big bang, run by @grishaversebigbang ​ 

Thanks to my other gang member’s @punchsomeoneforme-willyou ​ and @6crowgang ​ for their amazing art!! (x)  (x)

also known as i try to write crack. i also don’t know how to dye things or what the slat is like or what the van eck manor is like or if they have the word goth in grishaverse. I also don’t care. AND I don’t know how to put cuts in tumblr posts i’m very sorry.

At the time, letting Nina give out the dares had felt like a good idea. Now Jesper wasn’t sure he wanted to do any dare remotely involved with Kaz. She would have been better off getting Inej to do it, frankly. He was more suited to being a distraction – it was the charming personality no one could resist – and she was more suited to climbing into windows and sneaking around the slat. They’d been playing truth or dare and Nina’s idea – and it was brilliant – had been to dye the entirety of Kaz’s wardrobe a vibrant lime green. It would have their names written all over it of course, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be fun.

The lime green dye, that Inej had flatly refused to tell him where she procured, was carefully balanced in his outside pockets. Due to the colour of said jacket, spilling it was hardly a catastrophe, but it might ruin the prank. With some flimsy excuses and much avoidance Jesper finally reached the room where Kaz slept. The wardrobe, he discovered as he opened it, was full of Kaz’s typical black clothing. Saints, this would be hilarious. He frowned and pulled out a jacket of Kaz’s and tossed it onto the bed. It wasn’t exactly something you were ever taught – how to put dye onto clothing. Kaz’s whole wardrobe consisted of the black tailored suits he insisted on wearing ironically to spite mercher’s or whatever. It was terribly boring in Jesper’s opinion.

He sighed and glanced at the jacket on the bed. According to Inej, you had to get a bucket of water (prepared by the Wraith herself), squirt the dye in and then the clothes followed. Inej hadn’t sounded particularly sure. Eh, there wasn’t much to lose. Pulling the dye from his pocket and unscrewing the lid, he somewhat carelessly emptied it into the bucket in front of him. The green of the dye fused seamlessly into the water, it looked like magic. Maybe it was. He hoped Inej could keep Kaz distracted for long enough, and dropped the first piece of clothing in. At this point he was stuck, again. Did you just leave the clothing in there? Take it out instantly? Who could say? Staring at it was unfortunately not going to yield him any answers.

He was pretty sure he’d heard somewhere you were supposed to stir it too, but there wasn’t exactly anything to use. In the end, deciding he’d get the job done a bit quicker if he did three garments at a time, he just left each in for ten minutes. The first set didn’t look all too bad. Aside from the fact they were soaking (Jesper had hung them up on hangers in various places on the top floor of the slat which was still mercifully quiet), they definitely looked like some form of green. After an hour of somewhat boring dyeing of clothes Jesper was satisfied Kaz had nothing left in his wardrobe that wasn’t at least a little bit green. The boredom would be worth it for the look on his face, which Jesper would be preferably seeing from a distance.

Grinning, he made to leave but instantly stopped in his tracks. There were footsteps. Kaz. Followed by laughter. Not Kaz. He breathed a sigh of relief and popped his head around the door.

“Inej?” He frowned as she and Nina reached the top of the stairs and  slid past him into the room holding arms full of red and purple dye. “Nina?”

“We thought we should help,” Inej said, casting a pitying look at Kaz’s room. “But it looks like you have it covered.” Her eyes caught onto one of Kaz’s suits, which was now drying and proving to be a very neon shade of green, and she burst out laughing. “He’s going to me so mad.” Jesper and Nina both snorted.

“I would have liked to see him in a pink suit too,” Jesper mused, eyeing the dye Nina was holding. He scanned the room for something else to dye and found the stack of paper on Kaz’s desk. Nina grinned.

“Anyone know how to dye paper?” she queried and went over to the stack. They did not, but the concept of Kaz sending all his letters and memos and doing his paperwork on bright pink paper was far too much of an opportunity to pass up. So they could at least try.

Nina tried squirting the dye on the paper. It didn’t go well. Inej just dropped it straight in the bucket. That didn’t yield much either. It was finally Jesper who tried using the sink and slowly dipping the paper into the dye. It truly was vibrant pink. Brilliant.

“Pink paper is the only proper way to send threatening correspondence,” Nina remarked approvingly. Jesper turned to Inej, but she was gone. All that was left were a set of purple footprints where she’d been.

“Oh saints, Nina,” He pointed to them, and for a moment considered being concerned. But honestly, it just added to the joke. With a glance at his own shoes he realised they were coated in the garish green paint he’d begun with.

“You know,” She said slowly, eyebrow raised, “This, this could definitely be exploited.” Both red and pink dye was very abundantly on the side of Nina’s boots. They were not experts in cautiousness, clearly. She ran out the room and back in, leaving reddish footprints in her wake. The wooden floor of the slat was in dire need of a spruce up.

The two of them followed Inej’s purple footprints down the trailing stairs, and Jesper couldn’t help but wonder why she’d left. Then it hit him.

“If you and Inej are here, who’s distracting Kaz?” He frowned, Nina looked a little guilty.

“We didn’t want to miss all the fun.” She admitted.

“It's hardly fun! I was not especially good at that dying business. It's more complicated than it looks. And it took me ages.” He grumbled.

“Sorry,” She muttered. “But that’s a good point. No one is distracting Kaz.”

“Brilliant.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Jesper couldn’t resist a glance back at the stairs, now coated in gaudy dyes. Anika was leaning against the wall ahead of them, a very confused look on her face. Jesper merely grinned, and Nina put a finger to her lips. Jesper barely had time to blink, before Inej slid soundless around the corner and stood in front of them.

“Kaz is on his way back. Closet.” She said quickly. Then glanced at the floor. “Actually, run around a bit first.”

So, looking undoubtably extremely stupid, they began do run in circles around the floor. It was coated in multicolour by the time Inej finally usher them towards the closet that Jesper wasn’t entirely sure was supposed to be there.

“Go on! He’ll be here soon. It will be boring if he sees us before the rest of it.”

Jesper looked warily at the closet. It didn’t look like all three of them would fit.

“Please just get in the closet.”

“Oh not again,” He muttered before he could stop himself. Inej pulled the door shut from the inside, somehow, and Jesper had been right. It was a little left of comfort. Not that he would have wanted to be anywhere else the moment Kaz walked through that door. The look on his face, which Jesper could just about see between the doors of the closet, was priceless.

“What the fuck?” Kaz spluttered. It was all Jesper could do to not burst out laughing. Kaz began to angrily head towards the stairs, and by the time he was halfway up, Inej, Jesper and Nina had slipped away into Ketterdam.

***

They’d been out for waffles, as a celebration for their hard work. None of them could be bothered to go back to the Van Eck Manor straight away, and well, this was fun.

“Maybe we should have painted the bedsheets in the shape of a waffle,” Nina mused, as she finished second plate. Inej glanced at the various plates that had once had waffles on them scattered across the table.

“Maybe, but I think eating them is more fun.” Nina nodded in agreement.

“What do you think he’ll do?” Jesper mused.

“He’ll either not speak to us for a week, or Inej’s boat and your house will be bright orange by the time we get back. It’s a toss up.” Nina shrugged.

“I could live with the house being orange. Not sure what Wylan would think…”

“I could build a brand out of an orange boat,” Inej added.

“Not exactly scary though is it. Not instilling fear into the hearts of your enemies. Oh dear god, here comes the fearsome captain Inej Ghafa and her orange boat.” Jesper snorted.

“Hey!” Inej protested, snatching a waffle from his plate. “I’m plenty scary enough myself.”

“You sure are, that was my waffle!”

“Care to steal it back?” She smirked, taking a bit. He did not.

They probably kept the waffle place open past the closing time, and by the time they trudged back to manor sometime that evening, Nina’s predictions were almost true.

Wylan stood outside the manor, arms folded and a sceptical look on his face. He looked quite cute if you asked Jesper, if a little annoyed. The manor looked fine from the outside. Same as it always was.

“Did you think it would be funny to provoke Kaz so much that I return home to an entirely different coloured house?” He grumbled as they approached.

“I feel like I’m being berated by a puppy,” Nina remarked and Wylan glared at her.

“Oh come on merchling, it can’t be that bad?” Jesper raised an eyebrow, but the look on Wylan’s face suggested otherwise. To be fair, he’d made a similar face when Jesper had been trailing green around the house that morning.

“Kaz has Gothified the house,” Wylan retorted, pushing open the door. Jesper blinked incredulously. The entire thing was a strange shade of black grey that completely sucked the colour out of it. Again trailing green footprints around the place, he dashed through the house. Room after room was the same. Hell, even the food was dyed. Or painted. Whatever this was.

It would have been funny, if it wouldn’t be so bloody hard to undo.

“How did he manage this?” Nina was saying incredulously as he returned. “We were only gone a few hours.” Inej looked smug.

“What did you do Wraith?” Jesper asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at her.

“A magician never reveals their secrets. Kaz won’t, and nor will I,” She retorted smugly. Behind him, he heard Wylan snort.

“You complained when I put a few footprints in the house this morning,” Jesper protested. “Now the whole house is painted.”

“Well, you could put them in now. It might add character.” Even Jesper had to snort at that. He glanced at the black bucket of dye left outside the door, and he could have sworn he’d heard a click of Kaz’s cane in the distance.

“Very subtle,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“This is insane,” Nina said pointedly to Inej.

“Maybe so,” The smaller girl said, but she was grinning.

Behind them, Jesper heard a muttered “Demjin.”

He didn’t know where Matthias had come from, but maybe this time he was right.

[reaganjenelle]

Louder Than Words

An Anders x OC soulmate AU nobody asked for, but didn't know they needed.

Hi there, possible reader! I'm reaganjenelle. I can tell you're on the fence about reading this Fan fiction. Don't worry, you're not alone. I promise that if you try it, there's a strong possibility that you'll enjoy what you find. So, why don't you kick back, relax, and try something new? Enjoy.

Word Count: 2,284

Chapter 1. Kirkwall

Kirkwall, quite frankly, smelled like piss. Julia had half a mind to simply get back on the ship a return to Fereldan, blight be damned. But she wouldn't. Elric was here and now so was she. Julia took a moment to stretch her cramped muscles before slipping off the cargo ship unnoticed. The journey across the sea had been spent hiding amongst the crates and dodging the crew. It wasn't that she wasn't willing to pay for safe passage. She had, in fact, approached the captain about paying to be smuggled into the city. He was just too far up the Maker's arse to agree. Hadn't thought her coin was worth the risk of being caught. Little did he know Julia had hitched a ride anyway, and he was short the gold he would have had. Not to mention the captain was now convinced one of his crew members had been sneaking extra rations. 

The docks were crowded with sweaty workers shoving past each other. It took little effort for the rouge to blend in. Everyone was too busy minding the cargo to pay a lone woman any mind. The first thing Julia decided she needed was to find a hot meal and a stiff drink. A surly looking man grunted directions to her for a tavern in Lowtown only after she had begrudgingly handed over a few coins in return. It was hard to see the appeal of Kirkwall for Julia. As previously stated, it smelled something awful, the buildings had seen better days, and the people seemed just as run down. It wasn't just that they all sorely needed to bathe, it was the way they carried themselves. As if they were caught between looking out for pickpockets and trying to find any easy target for themselves. A woman leaned against the door of an extremely run down house, leering at those who passed by and promised a good time for very little coin. A scabbed sore warned on her mouth. Julia wrinkled her nose and passed by more quickly. But not before her deft fingers found coin in a distracted man's pocket. Alleys broke off in several directions. Some were empty, some held people engaged in shady dealings, and still others worked as homes. 

A child huddled by himself in ally opening, clothes threadbare and eyes downcast. He took shelter beneath a soiled sheet stuffed between cracks to hold it up. Behind him was a crust of moldy bread with small bites taken in it. It appeared the boy was trying to ration it. A tin can sat empty between his dirty feet; it was most likely used to catch rain water so he could drink. No one paid him any mind. Julia felt a twinge of guilt as she went to pass by, feet hesitating. It was like looking into a mirror. 

"Hey, kid." The child flinched before looking up. His dark eyes were slightly glazed and he had trouble focusing on anything. His pale lips were chapped from dehydration and his cheeks were sunken in from lack of nutrition.Julia squatted in front of him before she could really understand how she managed to find herself there. "Got a name?"

He nodded mutely. 

She raised an eyebrow. "Wanna tell me what it is?"

His face flushed and he croaked, "Daniel, serah."

Julia 'hmmed'. "Where are your parents?"

Daniel looked down at his boney hands. "Gone."

"Are you hungry?"

His head snapped up, eyes wide. "W-what?"

Julia ran her fingers through her hair. "Are you hungry? I've always hated eating alone."

A spark of hope ignited in his eyes. "Me, too."

"Well then." Julia stood and gestured for him to do the same. "Why don't we find something to eat together?"

He got shakily to his feet. The rouge winced at his boney frame, but said nothing. Instead, she held out her hand for him to take and led the way to Lowtown. Why she had decided to take him with her was beyond her. She couldn't waste time trying to play the good guy. Not with Elric so close. The kid was a liability and expense she didn't need. 

One meal, that's all I can do for him. 

The tavern was easy enough to find, what with the sign being a hanged man and all. Julia wrinkled her nose when she stepped inside. The aroma of stale beer and vomit sucker punched her senses as soon as she crossed the threshold. It was mostly empty, save for the few drunkards passed out randomly throughout the establishment. All things considered, it wasn't the worst pub she had been to. Who knows? Maybe they had great mead and even better stew. Julia sat the kid down at a relatively clean table before making her way to the bar. 

The bartender was wiping down a dirty mug with an equally dirty rag. "Wha' can I get for ya, love?"

"Food for two, a stiff drink, and two glasses of water." Julia said, sliding a few coins across the grimy surface to him. 

Cups in hand, she sat down at the table and slid the water over to Daniel. He hesitated before taking a large drink draining it dry. Julia hid her smile by taking a swig of her own drink and pushing the second cup of water toward him. She grimaced at the burn followed by a bitter after taste. Maybe she should have gotten a water, too. The pair sat in silence until a stern looking barmaid practically slammed down two bowls of mutton and a stale loaf of bread on the table before walking away. 

"Well," Julia slid a bowl over to herself. "Dig in, kid." He needed no further invitation. "Whoah, slow down!" Julia laughed. Daniel looked up at her, cheeks stuffed full of anything he could get his hands on. "There's no rush. You'll make yourself sick at the rate you're going." He swallowed thickly and did his best to slow his pace. Satisfied, Julia began to eat as well. 

The mutton wasn't bad. It wasn't good, but it wasn't terrible either. It was far better than the scraps of food she had managed to scrounge up on the ship, and far more satisfying. Daniel finished before her, and fan his dirty fingers along the bottom of the dish. Which an internal sigh, she pushed her half eaten food across the wooden table. 

"Here. Not as hungry as I thought I was."

He looked from her to the mutton and back in disbelief. "But…"

"Don't get you smalls in a twist. I had plenty." Julia said, taking a large gulp of her mead. 

When Daniel finished off the last of the food, he looked up at her and offered a small smile. "Thank you."

Julia shoved down the warm feeling his simple statement had given her. "Yes, well. I wanted the company and you had nothing better to do. Win, win."

Except it wasn't. She had spent more than she should have. It was hard enough taking care of herself. Time was wasting. She had enough on her plate without him to worry about. 

Clearing her throat, she stood. "I should get going. See you around, kid."

He continued to sit there even after Julia paid for a room and left the tavern behind. She put him out of her mind. He had food in his belly, now. He would be fine. Probably. Or not. Whatever, it wasn't her problem. 

Julia wandered around Kirkwall aimlessly, carefully swiping coin from several pockets on her way. The higher she went into the city, the cleaner it became, and the more snobbish people became. They made for the easiest targets. Coins jingled happily in her purse, steadily growing in number. While raising funds (read: stealing), Julia also made inquiries about the Circle. A particularly chatting vendor explained they kept mages in the Gallows. It was a small island like structure in the bay that had once held the Tevinter slaves. A fortress that now housed mages. A large host of templars guarded them, the biggest in the Free Marches, she was assured. When asked about how to get there, the man simply blinked at her. 

"Why would you want to go there?"

Why, indeed. "My brother is Templar. I traveled here to visit him." I lied. 

With an understanding smile, he explained about the boats reserved for visiting the prison, and gave her an apple for free. "My thanks to your brother. For keeping us safe. 

Shadows grew longer as the sun began its slow descent behind the tops of buildings. Leaning against a stone banister, Julia mulled over what she had learned. The templars were the biggest problem she faced. With so many, it would make her goal harder to achieve. Not only that, but the Gallows being an island would make a clean getaway difficult. She also had to account for securing passage to and from the fortress, then out of Kirkwall. Frustrated, Julia pushed off the railing. Stupid blight. If it had waited just a few more weeks to reach them… but it hadn't. Now here she was, having to rebuild her plans. It was terribly annoying. 

Finding the red lantern district in the middle of the richest part of town gave Julia a small sense of amusement. She would have thought it would be in Lowtown if only to keep the undesirables separated. She supposed it would too unbearable for rich folk to have to sully themselves by being seen with the rabel. 

The Blooming Rose was filled with people looking for comfort in others. While Julia had never paid for company, she could certainly see the appeal when she saw a muscular young man lead a customer into another room with a seductive grin. Shaking her head wistfully, she made her way to the counter. 

"What's your poison, darling?" The woman behind the counter was beautiful. Her long hair curled loosely around her bare shoulders. It was a wonder her sleeveless dress was able to keep her ample bosom from spilling out of top. 

"How much for a hot bath?" Julia asked, appreciating the view she was given when the woman leaned forward. 

"Looking for someone to wash your back?" 

A wide smirk appeared on Julia's lips. "Not tonight, just a private bath."

"Shame." The woman said, a pout on her pretty face. She gave the price and Julia handed over the money. 

The bathing room was steamy, and a large bath was built into the floor. The rouge folded her clothes neatly before sinking into its warm depths. Weeks of dirt melted off her skin. It was refreshing to scrub her skin until it was pink. Julia let her mind wander and found herself thinking of Elric. It had been years since she had seen him. Nine years, in fact. He wouldn't be the little boy she remembered, no, her little brother was a man now. She wondered if he thought of her. Of what she had done. Julia sighed as she massaged scented oils into her hair. There was no use dwelling on it. Once she freed him they would talk. She would explain why she had done it, how she had been weak. But she wasn't weak anymore. Now she could take care of him, of both of them. He would see. 

Julia left the brothel feeling refreshed. Her hair was left down to dry as she made the trek back to Lowtown. Perhaps she would grow it out again. It currently rested just below her chin due to an unfortunate accident involving a nug and a horde of dark spawn. The mousey colored locks hung limply, and would continue to do so even after it was completely dry. At least when it was long she could braid it back. At the moment it was too short to do much of anything with. 

The streets were empty aside from the occasional thug looking for easy victims. It was simple enough to avoid them buy sticking to the shadows. All Julia wanted when the Hanged Man rose to greet her was an ale and sleep. Food be damned. The bath had her too relaxed to care for much else, and that apple had been far better than anything the tavern had. That is, until she was him. Daniel sat exactly where she had left him, surrounded by rowdy drunks ignoring him. When he spotted Julia, a relieved smile lit up his face. 

He's like a stray dog. Julia though as she waded through the crowd towards him. Feed them once and they never leave. 

"I wasn't sure if you were coming back." He said when she had reached him. 

Julia forced the smile that threatened to appear away. This was a problem. The kid now thought she was some kind of good person who had taken him in off the streets. She wasn't. He wasn't her responsibility, and her act of kindness had already been fulfilled for the week, thank you. She needed to tell him to scam, to find someone else to leech off of. 

"So, you waited here all day?" She asked instead. 

He looked down at the table top and mumbled, "Was that bad?"

Yes. The last thing she needed was someone who needed her. Julia sighed and asked instead, "Hungry?"

His face lit up and he nodded quickly. 

Later that night, she looked down at the boy who slept soundly in her bed. One night, then he was gone. She would give him some coin in the morning and send him on his way. Mind made up, Julia settled deeper into the rickety chair and tried to get some sleep. 

[kaz3313]

Crowley is a totally very bad demon who does very demonish things. Like take care of a bunch of orphans

Inspired by one of @rainydaydecaf s text post! I wrote this in a day

Also thank you @thetimtimjr for tagging me in the post that inspired this!

( I have only seen to episode 3 so no spoilers in the tags or replies please! Thank you)

Tw: though this is mostly fluffy comedy stuff there is a sucide attempt (unsuccessfully). Also if anyone needs this tagged as anything feel free to ask as always!

(Please reblog and hope you enjoy 😊)

"Misstah Crowley are we there yet?" One of the children tugs at the demons clothes.

"I already told you; were not going anywhere. Were waiting for the storm to pass," he gently pushes the child away but he comes back to his side.

"When is the storm gonna pass then? Can it be now?"

"I don't know kid, now butt off before you're tossed into the sea," Crowley growls. At first a face of horror passes over the kid but it quickly leaves as another child pipes up.

"He won't throw you overboard, Asher, nothing to worry about," She's older than the other but no more than 14.

"I can-" Crowley begins but stops hearing one of the many infants start crying.It took him two hours to rock them all to sleep. "Oh look what you did. Now they all will wake up,". He is right as babies wake up one after another crying in confusion or empathy, as it is rather hard to tell which is which at such a young age, and Crowley desperately tries to calm down each while simultaneously answering the older children's questions.

"So whose ship is this?" A girl in rags asks, he'll have to have Aziraphale miracle her some better clothes later.

"Noah's Arch," he whispers rocking two wailing infants, twins actually.

"Is he a friend of yours?" A boy who looks as well off as she did pipes up.

"Ehhh, I met him once or twice," the meetings Crowley is referring too is when he passed the man by while tempting other people to acts of evil in his town.

"Is they're another arch?" The girl asks. A group of children has formed around some of them helping with the babies or toddlers but others just to listen to what he has to say. Odd to say the least; Crowly has definitely spoke to groups of people at a time, and many listened with such interest, but not often answer earnest questions. Much less earnest questions he's answering truthfully.

"No, no other arch," the one twin started fussing again. "Shut up," he says to the baby but instead of a harsh tone his voice is sing songish.

"Then where are all the parents at?"

"Alright enough questions, I didn't bring you on here to annoy me," Crowley hisses and more of the little ones wake up crying. Great, more to deal with.

"I'm bored,"

"I'm hungry,"

"Alright! Alright! Go-" He looks around. He could always have them mess with the animals but they could get eaten by a lion as well as get caught by Noah. No, keeping them down here is a necessity but he couldn't constantly entertain them. Then Aziraphale catches his eye. He's in the corner reading various books and scrolls he brought with him on the arch. How he could bring those instead of children Crowley will never understand (and quite frankly even though he wished to confront him about it he also didn't want to hear about the 'ineffable' or have him get fussier than the babies and run away for a century). "You see Aziraphale- Yeah, go bother him. He'll read you stories," Many of the children rushed toward the unsuspecting angel and the ones who remained Crowley could manage.

"Cr-crowley?" It is late at night, despite not needing to sleep both demon and angel are exhausted, and he doesn't expect one of the children to wake so soon. Of course he doesn't really know what to expect with kids.

"Yes," Crowley responds.Being a demon, he can see in the dark and her expression of fear is clear. "What are you doing up? It's bad enough I have to feed those little things every hour do I have to do that with you?" At that she gives a small smile.

"No, nothing like that. I just had a scary dream is all,"

"Ah, those happen," Crowley has put nightmares in many a mind before, mostly to sway them, but never in a child's.

"It was about the arch flooding cause there were too many people. It sunk to the bottom of the sea and the fish ate everyone's bones," she states her eyes wide as she recalls the fake memory.

"Morbid," Crowley replies biting his lip not sure how to comfort the child. "Arch is really sturdy though. The instructions to build this thing came straight from God so if it sinks that's on heavens hands,".

"It sank cause we're not supposed to be on here. We aren't are we?" Her voice cracks and tears start to roll down her cheeks.

"Now don't- come on sit here," he taps the place beside him and she follows his instructions. "Everything is uh, complicated to say the least. Whether you're supposed to be here or not depends on which side your looking on it from. But one thing, and the most important thing, is I wouldn't bring you on here for nothing. Like do you think I want to babysit for who knows how long while the storm of the century is outside if I didn't think it was necessary?"

"N-no, " she gives another shy smile and wipes her tears with the back of her hand. "I guess not,"

"Exactly, your obviously a smart kid. If I wasn't absolutely positive this stupid boat was going to hold I wouldn't have even tried," he says and she wraps her arms around in a hug. He pats her back not sure how else to respond.

"Thank you Mr. Crowley, that'll make my nightmares go away for sure! You're a saint!" She says chipperly and before he can correct her she skips off to bed.

"You're so very evil Crowley. What an evil deed reassuring a child," Azriphale says with a grin of his own.

"And how long have you been here? I thought you were taking to Noah and his "holy" family. Never mind, bug off angel. I'm always evil and saving this brats is against the divine plan so its evil," he reasons and the other just shakes his head reading yet again.

Feeding the kids is Crowley's least favorite parts (he had to do it at least three times! Not even Aziraphale ate that much) of the day. They were all whiny like usual only this time is 10 million times worse since they whined about not having enough food despite Crowley giving them as much as they could possibly need.

"She got more then me!" One kid yells pointing at a teen girl.

"Do you want more?" Crowley asks grabbing a piece of bread to give to him.

"Well, no but it's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair and actually this is a very small part of your life that will be fair so deal with it," Crowley snaps and the kid begins to cry. "Damn- Aziraphale!" He calls but sees the angel with his hands full as well as a toddler climbing him. He wouldn't be able to comfort the kid for a while.

"Kid, kid, listen. This is ridiculous. Just stop crying, you're fine. You're well fed and you aren't hurt and-"  Crowley leans down but the kid continues to wail.

"I need to pee," A little girl says in his ear.

"Good to know," Crowley responds.

"I need to go now!" She yells and Crowley tilts his head away from her.

"Then go; you don't need my expertise you've done it plenty of times before," she whines again, kicks his shin, and walks away.

"Timothy is hungry," a teen hands him a baby while she calms down the still crying child.

"Does, Tim Tim need food? Hmmm, little pile of squishy flesh is hungry," Crowley asks reaching for the bottle of never ending milk. The baby cooks in response then hastily drinks the milk most of it going down his chin. "What a messy Tim Tim," he states as the baby sucks the milk down as if it's the last he'll ever have. He takes out a handkerchief cleaning up the giddy baby. "Out of everyone you've got to be the happiest baby. Did you know that? Did you know that, Tim Tim," At saying this Crowley heard a voice call his name and he looks up. Azriphale just mouths the words 'what a demonic demon Crowley is'.

"I'm the scariest demon in hell," Crowley tells the kids and most of them laugh excitedly.

"R-roar then! If your a demon roar like one!" A kid calls out.

"Roar? I'm a demon not a lion! I don't roar," he states.

"How do we know your a demon then? I think your just a weird kind man!" Another kid states.

"A man couldn't all bring us on an arch with plenty of food and drink. Nobody is that kind" A kid scolds the other  " Mr. Crowley is just an embarrassed angel,"

"I'm not an angel!" But many kids already are murmuring in agreement of the severely misinformed kid. The actual angle in the room gives a small chuckle "I can turn into a snake; the one that tempted Adam and Eve!" Crowley states.

"Do it then! Snake! Snake!" The kids begin chanting the word. Crowley sighs closing his eyes and starts to form into the cold blooded creature.

"H-he a snake!" Most kids laugh in glee only a few run to Azriphale in fear. Crowley can hear a kid concerned that "Mr. Crowley got eaten by a snake". The angel is sure to reassure that Mr. Crowley did not get eaten by a snake instead he can turn into a snake. The younger ones don't exactly understand the concept and are happy to see Crowley in his usual form again.

"Only saving kids and teens huh? What about those who were on the edge of things?" An older teen guy asks while the kids eat there bread and listen to one of the other teen's stories. Besides Azriphale the charismatic storyteller has been the most help especially since in the past she had to take care of ten kids. She definitely is the most experienced.

"Not sure what you mean on the edge," Crowley replies sipping a bit of his wine.

"The day the storm came in, the same day you found me at the market, was my sister's 18 birthday," he states. Crowley doesn't say a word feeling the air thick with tension. "We were twins but my birthday was the next day...she wasn't brought here, was she?"

"...no," The teen, or rather the adult (though he still looked like a boy of maybe 16 at the most) stands up.

"Everyone is gone? My family, friends, mentors? My house, destroyed?" He asks but doesn't expect an answer. Instead he walks away, starting to go up to the deck.

"Aziraphale, one of the humans left," Crowley walks over saying in a hushed voice.

"Left?" Aziraphale questions.

"He went into the storm; seems really upset. Just check on him to make sure he doesn't get caught. I have babies to feed in a little bit so I'm asking you. And… I think you might be able to convince him to come down here," Crowley explains.

"Well alright but you owe me a lunch for this," Crowley rolls his eyes but nods agreeing to the favor.

Azriphale found the man getting pelted by rain while he stood on the edge of the ship. He didn't turn around yet he spoke at hearing the angel's footsteps.

"The world from end to end is empty and void of life. Completely wiped out except for this ship here. This ship that has a family, animals, and then about a hundred stow-away children," He says his voice monotone. Azriphale doesn't explain that many places were spared; it doesn't feel right to correct the distraught human."Do you know how many people were out there? I don't even know. But surely all those people didn't deserve death? They didn't deserve to be pushed into this raging sea and drowned when they're body tires of the condition. If God wants us dead couldn't we just be strikes down by a bolt of lightning? Why make us suffer?"

"The plan of the almighty is ineffable; even to me," Azriphale says then adds "But, against many odds, you're alive! So let's go back inside before your clothes get wetter," the human lets out a sad chuckle.

"And after? Once this passes I have no one. I'm alone in this world...God wants me dead? Was that part of the plan?"

"Well, a little bit but something plans go differently then expected especially with demonic intervention and-" Azriphale stops as he sees the human toss himself forward.

The angel's wings jut out and he swoops down to catch the spiraling human. It's an experience that sadly Azriphale has done many times. In total he's saved 1200 humans in the last century who've tried to end their life. Sometimes by spilling their poisonous drink or whispering encouraging words in their ears but only four in total has he caught. This man will most definitely be his fifth.

He reaches him grabbing on and pulling him upward. A moment later and the human would've plunged head first in the icy sea and if not killed by it  would at the very least got a concussion.

"Now, now, it is not your time," Azriphale has his arms around the other's chest and can feel him shivering from the winds whipping around them. He positions his wings to shield the fragile being from the strongest winds.

"Apparently my time is past due; God wants me dead I'm just giving him his dues," He struggles in Azriphale's grasp but his grip doesn't loosen.

"Don't talk like that, let's dry you off and-"

"My sister would take care of the neighborhood kids. She'd feed them, she  raised me and my brothers since she was ten. She taught us manners and we'd attended church every Sunday. We pray before every meal and even after. She stole from a man richer than a king with manners akin to a pig! That is her only crime and yet she's under many feet of unmerciful water dead to this cruel world! Was that fair? Should she have died, angel?"  He yells out struggling against the other.

The man-no he really is just a boy- kicks with such force that Azriphale is forced to use a miracle. He falls asleep instantly no more shouting or protesting follows. He looks so peaceful sleeping, most humans do, and the angel frowns to himself. He'd awake just as agitated as before, perhaps even more, and could potentially try to commit suicide again.

Azriphale clicks his tongue thinking of a way to stop this humans distress. He said something about a sister did he not well...another miracle is performed; this time erasing all memories of her. It definitely wasn't his best miracle but couldn't be called his worst either.

"I'm so sorry," Azriphale mumbles out but over the roaring sea no one can hear him.

"You have wings? Does Mr. Crowley have some too?" A curious child asks touching Azriphale's feathers. A toddler to his right has decided the feathers are an excellent teething device and is trying to desperately get him off.

"Yes I do," Crowley says picking up the toddler presenting him a finger instead of the feathers he could choke on.

"Can we see?" Another asks walking over to him staring at his shoulders as if she could already see them.

"Maybe," He replies. "If you all are good for dinner and go to bed on time you can see them," Cheers follow Crowley's statement.

 The baby babbles at Crowely and since no one else is around he babbles back at her. She giggles continuing 'talking' to him.

"I hear you; pretty cramped place huh? But right now you have to go to sleep; can you go to sleep?" The baby happily replies with nonsense. She's the last baby awake but it quite a stubborn one.

"Go to sleep, little talker and maybe for once I'll get a break," he sings a tuneless soft lullaby. "And with my break, I'll get to bother, Azriphale! And he'll just read his books, or eat his food, and ignore me, because he is gooooood,".

The baby closes her eyes but Crowley continues his made up song "Go to sleep, little babe, and hope we'll get off this ship that's driving me insane," he finishes with a few la la's and the baby is fast asleep.

"Papa?" A small toddler walks running into Crowley head on. He steps back before falling on his butt "Papa?" He asks again.

"Nope, not a Papa," Crowley says patting the confused child head. "Just a demon doing bad,"

"Papa!" He exclaims and Crowley sighs.

"Nope. Very disappointed you didn't get it the first time,"

"Papa!"

"Now this is a little excessive don't you think? How many times do I need to say no?" Crowley asks putting his hands on his hips. He might as well humor the toddler.

"Pa-pa! Papa! Papa!" He claps his hands.

"Can your Papa turn into a snake?" The boy nods. "Really? I doubt that. Can he strike fear into anything and everything?" Again he nods. "Is your dad a demon? If so I might know him,"

"Papa!" He claps again.

"Is your Papa's name Crowely?"

"Yes!"

"I don't think so," but the child giggles in response.

"What a good parent you make Crowley," Azriphale states grinning (and dare Crowley say the smile is devilish?).

"Papa!" The toddler exclaims to Azriphale and he goes bright red.

"It seems the little one doesn't have a big vocabulary,"

"So that's what it is angel?" Crowley gives his own grin. He nods in response.

Six days pass before the rain stops and the sun comes out; and just as Azriphale says a rainbow appears promising to never flood the world again.

Crowley can be thankful for that. He isn't sure he can take care of hundreds of kids again. Though with all the hugs they give him he can't complain too much.

[lokimostly]

Home from War (Ch.7/8)

James Conrad x Reader Word Count: 4,521 Warnings: descriptions of injury/blood, needles, character death, angst Fic Summary: One year after you lost the love of your life, a last-minute decision changes everything you thought you knew. Now only one question remains: how to make it out alive, and return home from war?

A/N: None, and that should scare you. Enjoy! <3 

Prequel Series | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Eight (Epilogue)

Without Conrad, trekking through the jungle was even harder than you’d anticipated. Finding someone to support your physical weight was easy enough. The emotional weight of being apart from him was something different entirely. Your heart was aching at the thought of him: the soft accent of his voice, his sharp jaw and blue-green eyes. The tenderness in his touch despite the calluses of his hands. The curve of his lips when he gave you that small, secret smile only you were allowed to see.

So much lost time to make up for between you two. You silently resolved that if you ever got off this island, you’d kiss those lips for days.

The group stopped to rest. Slivko and Mills to make a splint for your leg, so that you could walk on your own – albeit at a limp. Your mobility wouldn’t be possible without the morphine, either, and you were down to your last dose.

Just one more thing to worry about, you thought.

The sunlight was growing dim as you hiked further uphill. As the sun set, the trees around you turned red and orange. The morphine was beginning to wear off, too, and faster than you desired. Every step became more and more difficult, more painful. Quite frankly, you were sick and tired of pain. 

The distorted warbling of the Sea Stallion’s broken speakers echoed through the forest like the voice of a ghost. The closer you came, the louder it got, until finally you spotted the green and orange helicopter through the foliage. 

“Gather up everything you can, including those seismic charges,” Colonel Packard ordered. “They got his attention the first time.”

The soldiers got to work. Slivko helped you sit down inside the helicopter, which seemed mostly intact. It was full of crates and barrels of seismic charges and napalm, secured in place by a frayed net. Slivko jumped up onto the platform, stepping through the boxes and looking around. 

Mills stood outside and stared at the contents of the Sea Stallion, unenthused. “This is a bad idea,” He muttered.

“Let’s just get on with it,” Cole replied, ducking his head and climbing inside.

Slivko came back with your medical bag– a small, camo duffle with a red cross on the side. You unzipped it and gasped in relief, finding everything exactly where you’d put it: in particular, more morphine. You found the bag of painkillers, acquired a needle, and administered another shot to your thigh with practiced efficiency. 

Slivko watched on, pushing up his red headband. “How often do you take the injections?” He asked. His voice held a notable tone of worry.

You glanced up at him. “Every four hours.”

His brow furrowed.“But it’s only been… two and a half since the last time. Maybe three.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sliv,” you said casually, returning the needle to its case and examining the rest of the bag’s contents. There was gauze, antiseptic, bandages, atabrine, and more than enough morphine to see you through until you got off the island. It was an enormous relief.

Slivko put his hands on his hips and watched the soldiers roll the barrels of napalm down the platform, carrying them down the hill. He turned back to you. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the atabrine.

“It’s for malaria. I gave you your shot before we left,” you replied easily. Slivko had always felt like a little brother, for whom you had a good deal of patience and affection, so you didn’t mind his questions. 

“And that?” he asked, gesturing to a bottle of clear fluid with an orange cap.

“That’s naloxone. It’s in case of opioid overdose,” you said. You paused, pressing your lips together and thinking for a moment before beckoning for Slivko to sit down. “C’mere. I’ll show you.”

He sat down. You pulled out an empty needle and twisted the naloxone open, handing it to him. “Have you used a needle before?”

“Yeah, but not in my arm, or anything.”

“That’s fine. Naloxone works intramuscularly, so you can inject it into other places. It just doesn’t take effect as quickly as it would through a vein.” You pointed to the side of your leg, where you’d been self-administering morphine, to your shoulder, and other common points of injection.

“Besides,” you added, “I don’t think I want you messing with my veins. You might punch through one. No offense.” 

“None taken,” he smiled, before his expression turned more serious. “But…. you’re not gonna overdose, are you?”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry,” You began putting the contents back into your bag. “It’s just good for you to know. I can’t be the only one who knows all this.”

But that wasn’t entirely true. You were cutting it close with the morphine and you knew it. 

There were several factors that determined your wellbeing, and very few of them within your control. Pain would only slow you down, and if you were slow, you wouldn’t survive – even more than that, the makeshift splint needed to hold. Any wrong move, bad fall, or general upset could shift the bone out of place and cut off your femoral artery. If that happened, it would only be a matter of minutes before you bled to death.

Even by mediating the pain and treading carefully, you had to face facts. Your chances of survival were at a record low.

~

Conrad and Weaver stood on the precipice of a cliff, looking down at the river below. Night had fallen some hours ago. The moonlight, bright and cold, illuminated the water through the fog, casting everything in a misty blue glow.

Conrad exhaled softly and forced himself to focus. He was having a hard time distracting himself from thoughts of you, and it showed – he’d taken more wrong turns than he could count, missed and misread signs that led the group in wrong directions. Finally he snapped out of it long enough to find the river, and now tried once more to force his thoughts away from you. 

“The boat must be around that bend,” he said, pointing. Weaver nodded, raising her camera. The shutter clicked.

Conrad heard Weaver’s breath snag in her throat and looked over. She lowered her camera slowly and the two of them watched, wordless, as Kong tread slowly past, almost close enough to touch. He paid them no mind. The creature really was a giant – standing as tall as the mountains around him, every step shaking the earth. But unlike Colonel Packard’s thinking, they both knew the truth: that the giant was by no means evil, merely a king in his own domain, in which you were all trespassers.

Breathing quietly, Conrad’s eyes followed the direction of Kong’s path. With a sudden feeling of dread, he knew exactly where Kong was headed: to the bursts of explosions in the distance, lighting up the blue night with fiery clouds of orange and red.

Kong let out a roar of anger, his giant teeth bared. Conrad’s throat tightened in fear. Colonel Packard was trying to draw Kong out, and you were there with him– which meant you were in mortal danger.

Conrad turned and began heading down the mountain. Weaver spun, following him as fast as she could. 

“What are you doing?” She shouted, leaping precariously from boulder to boulder, struggling to keep up.

“We have to go– now!” He responded, landing on flat ground and sprinting through the trees. He couldn’t keep himself from you any longer – not when he might be the only one who could save you.

~

You stood in the grass behind a wall of fire, watching the seismic charges go off in clouds of orange and red. Packard was adamant about drawing Kong out, despite everyone else’s inhibitions. Were you in better shape, you might’ve considered a coup de tat. Now, however, you were in no condition to do anything of the sort. 

Despite how anxious you felt, your heartbeat was unnaturally slow. The constant injections were beginning to show their uglier side effects: fatigue, blurred vision, nausea. At the moment, you had no time to worry about it. 

Beside you, Mills practically vibrated with fear as Kong came into sight. He roared again once he spotted your group, and stormed through the water just like Colonel Packard had planned. Your hands adjusted their grip on your gun and you resisted the strong urge to flee. 

For what wasn’t the first time, you wished Conrad were here with you.

~

Conrad and Weaver came running down the mountain so fast that they almost tumbled when they reached the rest of the group.

“Don’t shoot!” Conrad shouted to Brooks.

Brooks lowered his with an exasperated expression. “Conrad, where are we going?”

“You three need to go back to the boat,” Conrad said, leaning on his knees to catch his breath. He pointed with one hand. “It’s that way. Wait for us till dawn. If we’re not back by then …” he shook his head, swallowing. “Just go.”

Brooks scoffed. “You ain’t gotta twist my arm.” He picked up his bag and headed down the mountain, followed by the geologist San. 

“Wait, where are you two going?” Marlow asked, rising to his feet.

Conrad and Weaver exchanged a glance.

“We’re going to save Kong,” she replied, nodding resolutely.

And Y/N, Conrad thought grimly. 

Marlow smiled. “Not without me, pal.”

~

You watched as trees fell like windblown grass beneath Kong’s feet. He stopped a hundred yards from your company, staring intently at Packard, who stood in front of you with a fiery torch in hand. The air was charged with electricity, waiting for a lightning strike.

Then he charged.

You and the other soldiers faltered backwards as he came closer, stumbling over your feet. Colonel Packard, however, stood still as stone. He watched Kong storm through the water, shaking the earth with his roar, and he waited. And waited.

And then he through his torch into the water.

The napalm that had been poured onto the surface of the water by Slivko and the other soldiers lit up, engulfing the giant monster in flames. 

You watched, horrified, as Kong let out a roar of pain. He struggled to fight through the flames before their heat engulfed him and he disappeared from view. Your fellow soldiers had similar expressions on their faces – terror mixed with sympathy. He didn’t deserve this.

Packard was completely enthralled by the Kong’s roars of pain. A mad grin was stuck to his face, stretched from ear to ear and completely manic.

He’d lost it.

Suddenly, Kong came through the fire again with renewed anger, and flung the boiling water at the riverbank. You shrieked and tried to duck away from the flames, falling backwards. You fell hard against the ground as your surroundings lit up in flames. A few of the soldiers immediately succumbed to fiery deaths. Their screams of agony filled your ears as a different fire burned in your leg, burning with renewed pain. 

Then Kong fell. 

Overcome by the fumes and the fire, his body came crashing down on the shore and the ground shuddered beneath his weight.

You tried to stand and gasped at the fresh wave of throbbing pain as it hit your body. Your bone had obviously shifted. You strained forward and peeled away the bandage with shaking hands, fearing the worst– that your artery had been cut off.

The world didn’t stop for you, and neither did Colonel Packard. “Men! Place your charges!” he shouted. “It’s time to show Kong that man is king!” 

“Armed one,” Mills said, as he turned on the charges.

“Armed two,” came another.

You grimaced at the sight of fresh blood on your skin, swallowing another wave of discomfort mixed with relief. Your wound had reopened, but it didn’t look like the artery had burst.

“Armed three,” Slivko said, looking at you with an expression of are you okay?

You didn’t see it. You were entirely focused on unzipping your bag as quickly as possible, finding a roll of gauze and wrapping your leg. Your hands found the fresh gauze when Conrad and Weaver charged through the trees and into the clearing.

“Packard!” Conrad shouted. Your eyes snapped up, and you froze. 

Packard looked up slowly, detonator in hand. Conrad raised his rifle, chest heaving, and pointed it at Packard.

The other soldiers raised their guns at him automatically. The sound of several firearms cocking at once made your heart jump into your throat. Your hands stilled, half-finished with their work, as you watched the scene unfold: the man you loved held at gunpoint by half a dozen soldiers.

Slivko stood next to you, his eyes darting back and forth as he struggled to stay composed. Seeing the hesitance in his face and the fumbling of his fingers put him in a different light: he was no soldier. Only a kid. 

Marlow appeared out of nowhere, catching Reles and Slivko by surprise. He pointed his pistol at Slivko, raising his eyebrows when Slivko’s aim left Conrad for Marlow instead. “I asked you fellas nice the first time,” he pointed out. 

“We don’t want to fight here, Packard,” Conrad said. His eyes flickered momentarily to you before he focused on the Colonel again.

“This thing brought us down!” Colonel Packard argued, pointing the detonator at the lifeless body of Kong strewn halfway up the bank. “It killed my men!” 

“Kong was just defending his territory!” Conrad snapped, exasperated and desperate. 

“We are soldiers!” Packard’s eyes twitched and his lips curled as the last threads of his sanity unravelled. “We do the dirty work, so our families and our countrymen don’t have to be afraid! They shouldn’t even know a thing like this exists!” 

“You’ve lost your mind,” Conrad said, shaking his head and breathing heavily. He took one hand off his rifle, holding it out. “Put that detonator down.”

Time stood still. Slivko sniffed audibly as he struggled to keep his aim straight, blinking the sweat out of his eyes. The moon hung in the sky while the fire burned in patches of grass, setting everyone’s silhouettes in blue and orange light. Nobody moved.

Packard’s face contorted in a snarl and he pressed the button on the detonator. It whined, rising in pitch as the countdown ticked.

“Stop!” Weaver shouted, breaking the terrible silence. “The world is bigger than this.”

“Bitch, please!” Packard scoffed indignantly. “Slivko, get her out of here!” 

But Slivko didn’t move. His hands were shaking violently as his eyes darted from face to face, the scales weighing heavy in his mind. He glanced at you in confusion and fear. You nodded, giving him a pointed look: Trust yourself.

“You know it’s the wrong thing to do, son,” Marlow encouraged gently.

Slivko stared at him for a beat of silence. You saw the moment when his eyes solidified, and he reached a decision.

Slivko turned his rifle on Packard. “P-put it down, sir,” he stammered, as bravely as he could.

Packard automatically reached for his gun.

“Packard!” Conrad urged. The Colonel froze, like he’d been knocked out of a stupor, and slowly let go of his pistol. 

Everyone lowered their guns, save for Conrad, who kept it pointed at Packard. You allowed yourself to relax by a fraction, gathering up the gauze in your hands. 

At that moment, the water in front of you began to bubble and smoke. There was a giant surge from beneath the river. A geiser of water shot up into the air. It evaporated into clouds of mist, moving away with the wind, and revealing the cause of the eruption: a Skull Crawler like you’d never seen, three times larger than the others.

“That’s the big one,” Marlow choked.

So much for a moment of safety.

“Fall back,” Conrad ordered. Nobody moved. “GO!” He shouted. This time, Slivko and the others obeyed, taking off into the trees. Only you, Packard, and Conrad remained.

The giant Skull Crawler’s throat clicked and warbled as its raised its head to look at the night sky, which was turning from blue to rosy with the dawn. It howled.

Conrad’s heart stalled in his chest. He turned to Packard and held out his hand, beckoning for him to run. “Colonel,” he urged desperately. The Skull Crawler howled again, loud enough to burst your eardrums. 

“Sir!” He shouted.

Packard didn’t move.

Conrad waited until he couldn’t anymore, his eyes darting between you and Packard until finally he shook his head and left him where he stood. He ran, scooping you up with one arm and grabbing your bag with the other. You shrieked at the sudden movement, clinging to him for dear life.

“Kong’s down, let’s go!”

You broke through the trees and Conrad set you down, chest heaving. You stumbled, holding onto him and blinking hard. There were white specks floating around your eyes, blurring your vision.

Conrad glanced down at your leg: the bandage was half-wrapped and reddening, hanging in tatters. He dropped to his knees, letting you lean against him while he tied it secure. His large hands shook with adrenaline, but they moved carefully so that he wouldn’t hurt you by mistake; Even in the most dire moment, he was tender in his care and conscious of your pain.

He tied the bandage off and lifted you up again, more carefully this time, and nodded to one of the nearby hills. “This is the edge of the island,” he said. “Weaver, get up on those rocks and fire a flare. With any luck, Brooks’ll see it.” 

There was the sound of something big coming through the forest behind you, and everyone jumped. Your breath shuddered and you tightened your grip around his shoulders. 

“We’ll buy you time,” Conrad promised. Weaver nodded and took off. Conrad adjusted his grip on you and beckoned for the others to follow him, heading into the wetland. “This way.”

You locked your arms around his neck as he ran alongside the bank, swallowing the pain of every jolting step. Behind you, you could hear the roars and crashes of the two monsters coming together in epic battle – but honestly, you didn’t care. All you were focused on was staying awake and hanging onto Conrad as he plunged into the water, wading towards the edge of the island.

You closed your eyes and buried your face in the crook of Conrad’s neck, wishing yourself away from it all. You were so tired: tired of pain, tired of running from things that wanted to eat you, and very tired of hiding your affection for the man you loved. Your heart beat slow and steady in your chest, and you breathed in deep. He smelled like home. 

You heard a sudden burst of gunfire and raised your head. Marlow’s boat come into sight around the bend: Brooks was at the helm, firing away at the machine gun anchored to the front of the boat.

“Come on! Let’s go!” Conrad urged, directing everyone towards the boat. The two monsters were fighting too close for comfort, sending shockwaves through the water that made it difficult to board.

Conrad lifted you up onto the deck and you pulled yourself into a sitting position, your legs hanging off the side. You grabbed Slivko’s hand and pulled him up, reaching for Mills. Your bandage was looking worse now – deep red and caked with dirt. The pain was beginning to sharpen like a blade, growing less dull with every stroke against the whetstone. 

You had no tolerance for it. Opening up your backpack, you pulled a syringe from its case and injected another dose of morphine without thinking.  

Conrad was lifting himself onto the boat, his muscular arms flexed, when the gun stalled and stopped firing. Brooks fumbled with the controls, trying to start it up again. 

Marlow pushed him aside. “I got it! She’s temperamental- watch out!” 

Suddenly, the Skull Crawler was coming towards the boat, undeterred by the ship now that the gun wasn’t working. You face paled and you grabbed Conrad’s hand automatically as anxiety rose in your chest and your throat constricted in fear. You noticed the absence of Kong to distract the monster from you.

You scanned the wetlands, finding Kong struggling to break free from the wreckage of several freight ships. Their anchoring chains were wrapped around him, holding him down in the water. He roared. Step by step, the Skull Crawler came closer. One by one, the chain links snapped.

Just before the Skull Crawler was within tail-swinging distance you heard Weaver’s flare gun fire again. The flare landed right in the Skull Crawler’s eye socket, exploding on impact. It screamed, raking its own claws across its face to try and dislodge the burning flare.

“Clear!” Marlow shouted, finally unjamming the gun. The rapid fire resumed, and you relaxed slightly.

The Skull Crawler howled in anger and snarled at you, coming towards the boat despite the array of bullets.

You felt Conrad’s hand leave yours. He pushed away from the boat without a word of warning, sprinting through the water.

“James!” You screamed, ripping at your own throat. The Skull Crawler’s massive head turned, and it followed him, leaving you and the boat behind.

Before you could move, Kong freed himself from the chains and threw something – a rusted freight propeller – lodging it in the Skull Crawler’s side. It fell with a deafening screech.

Conrad stopped running, gasping for breath and watching the two monsters resume their fight. They wrestled across the wetlands, dealing blow after blow with deadly intent, but neither could bring down the other. 

Your head was swimming. The cacophony of noise constantly vibrating through your body was making you sick to your stomach. Despite the humidity, your skin was covered in a thin, cold sweat.

Kong threw the Skull Crawler against one of the mountains and sent an avalanche of rocks into the water. You heard Weaver scream across the valley and turned, watching her fall through the air before she hit the water.

Your nurse’s instincts kicked in and you felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. “Head for shore!” You shouted frantically, snatching up your bag and bracing yourself as the boat sped up and turned. When it was a few yards away from solid ground, you dropped into the water, moving as fast as you could. The monsters kept fighting, sending huge waves across the wetlands that helped push you forward.

Conrad shouted across the water, catching up to you as you fought towards dry ground. “What are you doing?”

“Helping!” You responded, dragging your bad leg and coming up onto the shore unsteadily, duffle bag in hand. Conrad came up behind you and lifted you up, surging out of the water. 

You pulled away from his grasp and dropped to the ground in front of Weaver, who laid unconscious halfway on the shore. You pushed her hair away from her face and checked for vitals. 

She wasn’t breathing.

You took a pulse check with shaking hands and began CPR, pumping on her chest. As you tried to restart her heart, your own heartbeat felt dangerously slow. You were seeing double, but it was inconsequential– what mattered now was keeping Weaver alive.

Somewhere in the moment, the fighting had stopped. Everything around you was far too quiet– there was only the sound of your shallow breathing, and Conrad’s footsteps as he returned with Weaver’s camera in hand. 

Suddenly Weaver lurched upwards and you caught her, helping her onto her side as she coughed up water and choked on air. 

“Easy, just breathe,” you heard yourself murmuring, but it didn’t sound like you – your own voice was distorted and far away in your ears.

Weaver coughed. Her brown eyes blinked and came into focus, looking up at your face. When they did, her eyebrows pulled together. 

“L/N?” She asked, her voice laced with worry.

You opened your mouth to respond, but couldn’t find your words. It was like your tongue had turned to lead. You began to lose your grip.

Too little blood, too many injections – and the thought occurred to you too late.

“L/N?” Weaver repeated urgently. Her eyes darted from your face to your leg– the bandage was drenched with crimson. She looked up at Conrad desperately. “She’s falling–”

He caught you in his arms. “Y/N, Y/N, stay with us,” he urged, pushing your hair from your face. Weaver’s eyes filled with panicked tears and she stood up on wobbly legs, waving to the boat. “Help! Over here!”

Conrad lifted you up and ran towards the water. Slivko helped pull you onto the deck and lay you down on the surface. Your breathing was shallow. You could barely feel your heart pumping away in your chest. Your grasp on consciousness hung by a thread.

“What happened?” someone asked. 

“I don’t know,” Weaver’s voice came, sounding muffled and distorted. “She ... and then–” 

“–lost too much blood–”

“–find the bag–” 

“–nalo-something, there–” 

“Hang on,” Conrad’s voice came, like a gentle wave over the sand, pulling you back to reality. You could feel him holding you in his lap, the panicked rising and falling of his chest, the tender touch of his hands on your arms. The smell of sandalwood and smoke. Everything about him felt like home. 

Conrad watched your beautiful eyes unfocus and come back as you tried to stay awake. You were still fighting, bless your heart. Conrad’s chest tightened and he swallowed thickly, pushing down a wave of emotion. He tightened his grip around you, whispering assurances as Slivko shuffled through your bag. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you let out a shaky, jagged breath.

Conrad slid one hand down your arm and wrapped his hand around your wrist, feeling your pulse. He prayed silently to anyone who was listening: not her. Please. 

Slivko worked fast as his hands would allow, uncapping the orange bottle from your bag. Weaver helped, pulling away the splint and unwrapping your bloody bandage.

Conrad stroked your hand, feeling the coldness of your skin, the almost-indiscernible slowness of your pulse. Tears filled his eyes and he inhaled quickly, willing them away.

“You remember my promise?” He said, loud enough for you alone to hear. His normally steady, accented voice trembled with emotion. “We’re going home. You and I. Wherever you want to go, I’ll follow.” His lips trembled and he raised your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against your palm. 

“It’ll be alright,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head and fighting against his tears. His heart felt wrenched and pulled apart. “We’re going home.” 

You didn’t respond. Your eyes had closed, your breath scarce and fading fast. You were somewhere far away: somewhere deep and dark and painless, dreaming of the man you’d lost and found again, the man holding you in his arms while you faded, whose voice you could hardly hear. Dreaming of coming home. 

But they say no man comes home from war. Not really. 

--

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[loving-jack-kelly]

Javid story where Davey is slowly going blind and Jack is determined to show david all the beautiful things in his life

When Davey was little, his eye doctors had been hopeful that his vision wouldn’t get too bad. As he got older, they got less hopeful, and by the time he was twenty, they’d told him he’d probably be unable to see anything more than light and dark by the time he was thirty.

He met Jack when he was twenty-five and had to wear glasses as thick as his thumb to be able to see. He was an aspiring writer, somehow making a living in journalism while working on a book he hoped he could publish someday.

Jack was an artist who’d suddenly made it big with one sale nobody could have predicted.

At first, Davey was worried his vision had gotten worse since he woke up when he saw the painting in question. The colors were nice, but the shapes were hard to make out and honestly he had no idea how it was supposed to be a cityscape, though that’s what the label called it.

He hadn’t realized he’d already found the artist when he’d said that out loud and the person standing next to him started laughing out loud.

“You know, I almost didn’t put this one up for sale. I painted it in two hours at three am. I like the others much better, but hey, if you have enough money only ugly is worth it.”

Jack was much closer to a work of art than the painting they were standing in front of, in Davey’s opinion. He was dressed up for the occasion, some fancy gala hosted by the person who bought his painting, and he looked like he fit right in with the crowd around them. When he laughed, he threw his head back, and his hair quickly escaped the styling he’d obviously spent time on and left him with curls falling in his face no matter how many times he pushed them away. His smile took over his entire face, making it easy to picture where the creases would form as he aged, and he never stopped moving. His hands fluttered when he talked, and when they ended up sitting next to each other near the end of the night, he was constantly tapping his fingers or jogging his leg. He was easy to talk to. Funny. Charismatic.

Easy on the eyes, too.

Davey had always looked at his vision loss philosophically. He might have been going blind, but he’d had plenty of years to see things, and he’d chosen and was enjoying a career that he didn’t really need sight for. There were people who had it worse, and he had managed to stay pretty content with his lot in life.

But he was glad he got to see Jack Kelly.

Jack seemed glad to see him too, if their conversation was anything to judge by.

Jack made a joke, and reached out to brush Davey’s hair away from his face. Jack listened to what Davey had to say, and leaned in close in a way that could be excused by the noise around them but just a little bit closer than necessary.

And when the party was finally dying down, which Davey was surprised to notice since he’d been planning on leaving long before most people, Jack extended his arm and an offer to walk Davey home.

And like something out of a movie, or a scene Davey would never write into a book because it just seemed too cheesy, Jack kissed him outside his apartment’s door. There was a florescent bulb flickering overhead, and Jack gently cupped Davey’s cheek and stayed so close when he pulled back that Davey could feel his breath, and then squeezed Davey’s hand before letting go.

He put his number in Davey’s phone with a heart-eyes emoji and responded immediately when Davey texted him.

And dating Jack Kelly was the easiest thing in the world.

He hadn’t quite expected it to be, the first time Jack had asked if he wanted to go out. He’d kind of expected it to be awkward and weird and probably to fizzle out after a couple of dates. And instead, Jack asked Davey on a first date and it was to a planetarium and Jack whispered facts the program didn’t include into Davey’s ear. He held Davey’s hand and took him for ice cream while the sun was setting. They walked the High Line and Jack picked a flower and tucked it into Davey’s shirt pocket.

“You know, I forgot that I’m lactose intolerant,” Jack said thoughtfully, looking down at the last bite of his ice cream cone. After a second, he shrugged and popped it into his mouth. “Oh well.”

“Oh, well?”

“I’ll take a pill when I get home. Ice cream is too good to live without, you know.” He smiled and took Davey’s hand again, both of their fingers sticky from melted ice cream.

They dated for almost two months before Davey fully explained his eyesight.

Jack didn’t do the annoying thing a lot of people did where he suddenly started treating Davey differently, or throwing Davey a pity party he didn’t ask for.

Davey knew he would be blind eventually. He’d known that for a long time, and he was used to it.

Instead, Jack asked a couple of questions about it, and then he asked one Davey had thought about a lot but never been asked by anybody else.

“What do you want to see?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have time, right? So what do you want to see before you can’t?”

Davey listed off a few places, a few sights that had always been on on his bucket list, and Jack hummed thoughtfully, and then their conversation had moved on and Davey pretty much forgot about it.

Until he found an envelope slid under his door with a hastily written note covering a little doodle obviously done by Jack.

I wanted to see your face but I had to literally run but I know you’ll be home soon so happy Start of Jack’s Grand Plan.

Davey opened the envelope not exactly sure of what to expect. A clue to a scavenger hunt, maybe. A sweet drawing, a longer note, something small and sweet and romantic, the type of gesture Jack loved to give.

There wasn’t any kind of note. Not a single doodle in sight, other than the one on the envelope which Davey was pretty sure was somebody feeding the pigeons in the park.

Davey opened the envelope and pulled out two plane tickets.

Round trip, three days and two nights, from JFK to Flagstaff Pulliam Airport.

And under the tickets in the envelope was printed off receipt for a two night stay in the Grand Hotel at the Grand Canyon.

And then there was a small piece of paper with a list of places with a bold strikethrough cutting through “Grand Canyon” at the top with a bunch of other places listed underneath.

Five minutes into reading and rereading the tickets and the room receipt over and over again, Davey’s phone rang with the ringtone Jack had picked for himself (a frankly very strange cover of Never Gonna Give You Up that made everyone do a double take when it rang in public).

“Hey! I wanted to wait for you but Crutchie called and said he was having an emergency.” Davey could hear the smile in Jack’s voice and also Crutchie yelling something about fresh baked cookies very much warranting the emergency label Jack Kelly they needed to be enjoyed warm. “Do you like it? They’re far enough out that I can move them if the dates don’t work, but I’m pretty sure they do.”

“Jacky…I…you can’t-“

“Already did. Davey, I sold a painting for enough money that I bought an apartment. In Manhattan. And then I sold another painting for even more money. I want to spend it on something good. And you’re good. Plus, I get to go too. It’ll be wonderful, Davey darling, and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

Davey heard Crutchie say something to Jack and Jack laugh in response.

“Crutchie says if you don’t go he’ll go in your place and that would be weird because we’re brothers so you have to go.”

Davey laughed back.

“And you know you want to see the Grand Canyon. And it’ll be fun to get away for a little while. And-“

“Okay, okay, Jack, I’ll go with you.”

“We’ll hash out the details later, then. Love you, Davey, but more cookies came out of the oven three minutes ago and if I don’t start eating them soon Crutchie might murder me and that would spoil everything, now wouldn’t it?”

So they went to the Grand Canyon for the first week of April, and it was absolutely wonderful. Jack was wonderful, the trip was wonderful, and the view was wonderful and everything was wonderful.

And two months after that, Jack handed him a birthday card and inside of it were two tickets to Paris that Jack excused with “I’m going anyway for a show, so you might as well come, too.”

And over the next three years, Davey got tickets to Moscow, Hawaii, Yosemite. They drove to Maine and went through Niagara Falls on the way home. When they moved in together, Jack hung a bigger version of Jack’s Grand Plan on the wall and made a big dramatic deal out of crossing out every place they went to.

Davey laughed at every speech and pretended to protest every time Jack planned a new trip, but he knew he wouldn’t win any argument against going and he didn’t really want to stop going, either. He loved going on trips with Jack. He loved that Jack was determined to show him as much of the world as possible and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

How did he get so lucky?

Slowly, though, his vision was getting worse. He was getting tunnel vision, not in the figurative sense but in a very literal sense, and by the time he was twenty-nine, he finally stopped being able to see anything other than light and dark.

There was one stop left on Jack’s Grand Plan, and Davey was sure it wasn’t going to happen, but Jack still insisted.

So even though Davey wouldn’t be able to see the sights, he and Jack books tickets to Norway complete with a two day cruise in the fjords.

Jack was an artist, and he was just as good with verbal descriptions as drawings and paintings. He spent the entire trip describing absolutely everything he could see to Davey, from the outfits of the people around them to the towering stone surrounding them while they were on the boat.

It wasn’t exactly the same, but it was still pretty good.

Two weeks after they got home, Jack woke Davey up early and dragged him into the living room.

“I have a surprise and you’ll love it,” he said, offering no other explanation until Davey was sitting on the couch. “As you know, we recently completed the last stop on Jack’s Grand Plan. However, I can’t help but feel it wasn’t the same, and therefore, I have decided there has to be one last step before the plan can be declared complete. And that step happens…right now.”

Davey heard Jack pulling paper off of something.

Setting something down on the coffee table. Something big.

Jack took Davey’s hand and squeezed it before setting it down on the thing he’d put on the table.

It was rough. All ridges and texture, nothing smooth about it.

“It’s the fjords,” Jack said, obviously bursting with excitement. “It’s oil paints but it’s almost a sculpture instead of a painting, so you can touch it to see it. It doesn’t look like the fjords at all because I painted them and got the texture right and then added black on top because it’s meant to be touched, not seen.”

Davey ran his fingers over the entire painting, tracing the edges along the frame and feeling for details, surprised at how much he could identify. There was a patch at the bottom that felt the way choppy water looked, and tall patches of rough stone. Swirly clouds.

“It’s beautiful, Jack.”

“With that, Davey, Jack’s Grand Plan is complete. We’ve been to every place you listed, and you’ve seen them all. How was it?”

“Perfect, Jacky.”

Jack sat down next to him on the couch and kissed his cheek, wrapping his arms around Davey’s waist.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cause I was thinking we could maybe do a couple repeats. I could paint more like this. Still get to go on vacation together all the time but this time call it a business expense.”

Davey laughed and leaned into Jack’s arms.

“Sounds perfect to me, Jacky.”