#it took her a while to understand what I meant with Donovan

[quibbs126]

The good thing about having a new roommate is that I can spend an hour explaining the lore of whatever my hyperfixation is

This time it was Berserk

[inafieldofdaisies]

"Sooner or later, you'll understand. I had to do this. This is for your own good, okay? Let me take care of you." please please please please for John x Sabrina?

It felt fitting for the snippet to be a continuation of this one from a while back.

Prompt from this post.

"What am I going to do with you?", John's tone revealed he was more amused than angry at the way Sabrina had dragged him underwater for a kiss when she had gotten fed up with his brother's voice and preaching. As they stepped out of the Henbane and onto the shore, she muttered quietly, "You will figure something out, I'm sure." In a couple of steps they reached Joseph and she smiled sickly sweet as she said aloud for everyone to hear, "I'm sorry. I think I slipped on the rocks, my head feels a bit strange.", and for full effect she stumbled forward a little, making John catch her. How's that for a Cleansing, "Father"? She could feel the Bliss taking over her system for real, but she was set to push through it, refusing to show actual weakness. Joseph's eyes narrowed as he stared at Sabrina through his yellow glasses, smugness written all over his face at overlooking her "Baptism". Mathias stood on the side, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, barely containing his worry. "Welcome to the family, my child.", Joseph finally announced, putting a hand on her shoulder. She stood unflinching, steeling her gaze despite her whole being wanting to step away from the touch. His tone made her feel sick. Only one person has the right to call me his child. And he's dead. And no matter how much he tried, Joseph could never be even half the man Scott Donovan was.

But for now, if it meant Savannah would be safe, she'd play the part. John cleared his throat, probably sensing how bad of an idea it would be if his brother remained too much longer in her presense. "This one was the last Sinner for tonight, brother." Rude, Jonathan. Though she knew it was all an act, keeping his distance to protect her and Savannah, pretending she's not important in any way. Joseph's stare finally moved away from Sabrina as he looked at his brother. "You did well, John.", he paused before saying, "We need to talk." The two walked away, the conversation too hushed for her to make anything out from it. "You're with me, Sinner.", Mathias joined her then, taking hold of her arm and leading her to an Eden's Gate truck. The rest of the "Sinners" had already been escorted back to the Bunker, where Joseph believed she'd go as well. Sabrina climbed in the back as Mathias took a seat behind the wheel, but didn't start the engine, instead both of them watched the Father parting ways with his brother before he entered another vehicle and left the Baptism spot, headed for his precious Compound.

It was then that John opened the door and sat down next to her, pulling her into his embrace swiftly and inhaling her scent as he buried his nose in her hair. "You smell of Bliss.", he whispered. "So do you." "Thanks to you deciding I'm in a need of a Cleansing, too." "My service is free of charge. No cult obligation." Sabrina laughed as a shiver ran through her body thanks to her soaked from the cold waters hair and clothes, the fabric sticking unpleasantly to her skin. John caught the reaction, his gaze darkening, as he muttered, "That white shirt was a bad idea." She shook her head, "Your idea. "All black is not a good color for a Cleansing, Deputy.", you said.", she mimicked his tone before adding, "And I'm wearing a top underneath. Don't be dramatic." "Still a bad idea. Mathias, pass me the jacket. And drive." The man complied, silently watching the two in the rearview mirror before staring the truck as John covered Sabrina with the jacket, despite the fact he was just as soaked. "You're going to freeze, John." She felt bad for having pulled him in at that moment, no matter how funny it was when it had happened. "What's your favorite line? Ah, "I'm fine." And I am, Deputy. Not my first time.", he retorted as he put a hand around her. A giggle escaped her, "I knew it. Someone did try to drown you, didn't they? Mathias said "not again", too." "Nothing of the sort has happened.", he tried to sound dimissive, nonchalant. "Liar.", she said in his ear, "Your hair was wet then. Oh, I was right." As Mathias drove to the ranch, she leaned her head on John's shoulder, still feeling dazed from the Bliss his men had dumped in heaps in the river.

The ride passed in a blur, the silence and vibrations of the truck must have made her drift off, because the next thing she heard was the door opening again before John gathered her in his arms. "Good night, Mathias.", he called out and the truck sped off, leaving them in the driveway of the ranch. "I can walk, you know.", she argued despite the fact she didn't feel very confident she'd be able to, when her eyes barely managed to remain open. "I've got you. Staying true to our tradition and all that.", he whispered, his breath fanning her face before he placed a kiss on her forehead. Sabrina sighed and wrapped an arm around his neck as he carried her over to the front entrance, "You weren't joking about the Bliss. Fuck." "I'm… sorry. It was the only way.", his voice was conflicted. "I know." "Sooner or later, you'll understand why we're doing this.", he whispered, cautious not to wake Savannah up as he climbed the stairs to the second floor, carrying Sabrina to his bedroom. "I doubt it.", she huffed as he left her to stand by the foot of the bed and turned to close the door, "But…I don't want to argue, John." She grabbed the metal frame for support as the room spun around slightly and John was in front of her again, worry clouding his gaze. "You're a lightweight. I- I didn't think it would be that bad." "I'm fine.", she blinked, willing her head to be rid of the vertigo. He groaned, "That word. The bane of my existence. You look like you're about to drop at my feet any second." "Is this your discreet way of calling yourself drop-dead gorgeous or something, Seed?", she quirked an eyebrow. "At least your humor is still intact.", he shook his head as he reached for her shirt. "What are you doing?" "Getting you out of these clothes and into the shower, the sooner you wash it all off, the better." The shirt fell to the floor, then he kneeled down, instructing her to hold onto his shoulders as he took off her boots, her jeans followed suit and she was down to her underwear and top as he rose back up. "If you wanted to undress me, all you had to do was ask… instead of throwing me a drowning.", she joked. "Sabrina.", her muttered in a warning, taking a deep breath as he ran his hand through his hair, "I'm sorry." His eyes met hers, the sincerity visible in the blue depths, "I had to do this." Sabrina erased the distance between them, grabbing his face and kissing him softly, whispering against his lips, "I know. We agreed to it."

"I'm going to shower.", she made a move towards the bathroom but his hand remained on her waist, holding her in place as his gaze ran over her. "I said I'm helping. This is for your own good, okay? Last thing I need is for you to pass out on me." "My head is a bit better, I can handle a shower.", she argued, ignoring the dizziness that still ruled over her body. John's palm found her cheek, his thumb stroking her freckled skin as he said, "Let me take care of you. It will make me feel better." He didn't wait for her response and led her to the bathroom and into the shower, turning on the water while he stood outside of the stall. "Might as well join me, Seed.", she uttered out as pulled him under the stream by his shirt, her lips meeting his before she added, "Someone has to make sure I don't lose my balance."

[kokorowoutsu]

-- RP: @skullboneandunown

skullboneandunown:

Mew was silent for what seems like forever as he waits for Ashe's response. He knew Hisui was a sore topic for her, so that's why it took so long to tell her. His fur bristles as she slides off into the water, and hovers over the water, worry in his eyes. Closing his eyes, he turns away a bit in shame and clutches his tail like a child in trouble. "I....I wasn't there for everything in Hisui, so I had Donovan tell me everything. He didn't want to at first, considering what you went through. A-and that's why I waited so long! Hisui was a source of great pain and negativity for you, and I didn't want to remind you. Another reason is because I didn't want you to agree to this without your consent. I don't want to force you into this...I understand if you don't."

Ashe stares at Mew for a long time before it falters into something emotional -- almost childish as she sniffles loudly and pulls herself up into a sitting position. She extends her arms for the Mew almost like a child would seek comfort from a parent. In this case, he was the missing piece to finally join as one with her -- as it should have been.

She was Mew's Chosen. The first, the original, and while still not entirely special being there were still so many Mew... a Chosen.

"I just... All this time... I thought no legendary wanted me... because... I was already a Changeling." She already had something 'special' to her credit as she saw it. She wasn't... meant for center stage, but... Mew was proving her otherwise in this regard by saying she was his Chosen.

"Hisui... was painful... but I made it out. I... don't care about that anymore. I just care about now... about today, and the fact you finally found me. A piece of me that felt shattered... came back to me..."

So many pieces that made up her as a person were coming into sight recently, but it felt like each of them had been paved for a path to Mew. While some part of her wanted to grill him with the distrust she felt towards most people in general, she was deciding to put her heart on the line and reach out to the legendary and hope this wasn't a lie or deceit on his part.

( She knew he was mischievous just as most legendary pokemon were. )

"... Please don't be lying to me."

[frankieking]

Meet the Parents

Taggings: @august-atwood A/N: Frankie meets their dad and they think it goes well but there are other plans in orbit. 

The talk was going easier than Frankie had initially imagined. In truth, they didn’t really follow any religion and the thematic dinner held by their father’s wife was a little over the top. It came as a relief to learn that Donovan felt the same. Chuckling softly at their father’s joke, Frankie leaned back  into the chair in his study . “She was probably nervous. You know, having me and August here.” 

“Mm hmm.” Donovan pointed to Frankie with their drink in hand . “You’re probably correct but the private chef? Maybe a little too much?” 

“A tad.” Frankie responded and they both laughed before letting some silence fall between them. “But I should be going.” August had been waiting in the living area and Frankie didn’t want to leave their spouse out in the company of Aoife and Kennedy for too long.  “Before I go, there is something I need to bring up. And it’s the reason I came.” 

Donovan cleared his throat, appreciative of the honesty even if it meant his offspring didn’t want to actually be there at first. He was glad they came at all and hopefully today was the start of them coming around more. “I understand. But yes, go on. Is everything alright?” 

“For now. Well, with me? Yes. It’s about Kennedy. I think he may have a drug problem. And I think you should provide some help. I know some great rehabs although you probably can afford nicer ones than the one...” Frankie paused and took a deep breath. “Than the ones I attended.” They looked up at their father. “They say addiction is genetic...I don’t want Kennedy to go through what I went through. And as much as I’d like to get into that now, this has already been incredibly over-stimulating and Auggie and I have work in the morning...so...please talk to your son.” 

How should he respond? Donovan knows about Kenney’s drug problem though, he really wouldn’t call it that. He know this conversation could go south quickly if he didn’t answer right away and hearing that Frankie had a drug problem at some point really surprised him. He chose shock and shook his head. “I--suspected something was going on. Aoife and I will speak with him. I’ll pretend one of the maids found a stash somewhere. Your name won’t be mentioned.” But curiosity remained. “Why bring it up to me?” 

Frankie’s eyes widened, surprised he’d ask such a thing. “he’s my brother. I couldn’t let that go.” 

That was enough to give Donovan even more hope that his family may have won them over. With a nod, he finished off the conversation, assuring his other kid that he’d be taking care of Kennedy. 

Frankie made their way out of the study, smiling when they saw their spouse, whispering to them that they should probably go. While this wasn’t the most terrible meeting, it did leave them feeling exhausted. Once goodbyes were exchanged and the three remaining Gallaghers dispersed, Aoife pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her dress and dialed a familiar number. She looked out the window, watching the newest members of her family strep into their car. “Hello? Hi! Donna, hello. Oh, I’m doing well. Donovan and I would love to donate to the pilgrimage for Easter Sunday. how much does the church need? Mm hmm. great. I’ll send a check. Frankie and her husband just left. She mentioned something about doing a public school tour, talking to kids about being non-binary...” Aoife sighed. “You know what you have to do. The longer she thinks she needs Kennedy’s bodyguards, the closer she’ll become. The easier this whole thing will be. See you in church, Donna. Always a pleasure.” 

[snelbz]

Lost Time {12}

A/N: Another chapter written with @tacmc.

Enjoy!

Azriel woke up as the early morning sunlight began streaming through the window, and this time, Elain was still sleeping soundly in his arms. He was careful not to move too much, careful not to wake her, but he couldn’t help brushing her hair back from her face and pressing his lips softly to her neck.

She stirred, but her eyes remained shut, her long, dark lashes pressed against her pale skin.

He snaked his arm tighter around her as he trailed those lips further down her neck, her shoulder, her back. His head went beneath the blankets as Elain stirred, yet again, and rolled onto her back. When she opened her eyes and lifted the blanket, she found Azriel, hair a mess, laying over her legs, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin propped on her abdomen.

“Good morning,” he whispered, pressing his mouth to her skin, just below her belly button.

“If that’s how you’re planning on waking me up every morning, they’ll all be good,” she laughed quietly, brown eyes still tired.

He pressed another kiss to her belly and then to the top of her sex, earning a quiet gasp from Elain, but instead he trailed his lips up to her own, laying over her and kissing her softly. His weight pressed her into the mattress, but Elain had no intentions of going anywhere. “How’d you sleep?”

“Amazing,” she said, a content smile on her face. “Better than I have as far back as I can remember.”

“Me too,” he mumbled, capturing her lips with his again. They stayed like that for a while, losing themselves in each other’s arms, each other’s kisses, each other’s love. It was like the world was frozen outside and it was just the two of them.

And then Azriel’s stomach grumbled.

Elain pulled away and giggled. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” he breathed, then arched a brow. “I had a long night, full of exercise.”

“Exercise,” she repeated, and giggled as she ran her hands through his hair. “Why don’t we get ready and go to your mom’s for breakfast?”

He groaned and dropped his forehead against her chest. “I’ve been dying for mom’s pancakes, hell yes.”

She laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “And we need to go pick up our son,” she said, carefully, gauging his reaction.

He lifted his head and looked up at her, hazel eyes shimmering. “Our son…” he breathed. He swallowed hard and smiled. “I know we need to wait to tell him, and I understand why, but gods... I want him to know.”

“Me too,” she whispered, and easily rolled him over. Azriel fell back against the blankets and she straddled his waist, her hands splayed across his chest. Her delicate fingers trailed across his skin until they were wiping the dampness from under his eyes. “Soon.”

Azriel brought himself up and wrapped his arms around her before kissing her, softly. “I’ll be patient.”

She ran her fingers through his messy hair and pushed it back off of his face and kissed his nose. “I need a shower.”

“Is that an invitation?” He said with a breathy chuckle, trailing his lips down her neck.

She wet her lips, tilting her head to the side and giving him better access. Yet she said, “We can’t,” even as her fingers dug into his shoulders.

“We can,” Azriel whispered, gripping her hips and grinding her up and down against his hard length, always present in the mornings. “What’s stopping us? Hmm?”

A quiet, little moan fell from Elain’s lips and she said, “No, we need to get ready and go.”

He gripped her chin and forced her gaze to meet his. With add eyebrow raised, his voice was a purr as he breathed, “Did you just tell daddy no?”

Elain’s grin widened and she pushed against his chest, but fell into him, nonetheless. She met his lips with her own as Azriel swung them both off the bed. Her legs easily wrapped around his waist as he trailed them into the master bathroom. He never let go of her as he started the shower and stepped inside, beneath the hot water.

With her pressed up against the cool, tiled wall, Azriel made love to her slowly, until she was moaning those sweet nothings, those names that made him wild.

And when they were done, and washed, then hopped out and slowly got ready - there were too many distractions.

It didn’t matter what Azriel was doing, he would always be hopelessly distracted by Elain.

A little over two hours after they woke up, they climbed into Elain’s little car and headed to Miryam’s. Azriel entered without knocking like he always had and he found his mother at the stove, the smell of bacon and eggs and butter surrounding him. Elain just shook her head as she ascended the stairs to wake Donovan. Azriel pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Please tell me you’re making pancakes, too,” he asked, stealing a broken piece of bacon from the top of the pile.

He loved Miryam’s cooking. She was modest about it, but she was undoubtedly the best cook Azriel had ever met. Luckily, he was blessed enough to be her son.

Miryam turned around, completely surprised. “Az? What are you doing here? Not that it’s not a lovely surprise, but I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“I can’t stop by for breakfast?” He joked, turning around and pouring both himself and Elain a cup of coffee.

“Of course, I guess it’s a good thing I made extra,” she chuckled.

“Extra?” Elain asked, coming around the corner with a sleepy Novan, his thumb in his mouth. It was a habit Elain had tried to break, but there were days where there was nothing she could do to keep it out of his mouth.

The back door opened and Cassian said, “Holy shit, the door didn’t creak,” as he stepped into the kitchen.

“You’re welcome for that,” Azriel said, handing Elain her cup of coffee.

Nesta followed Cassian into the house and froze. “What the fu-.”

Elain interrupted and said, “Little ears.”

“Sorry,” she said, looking at Elain, and then back to Azriel. “Shouldn’t you be in jail?”

Feyre and Rhys were a step behind and Rhysand asked, “Az, what the hell happened the other morning? Where did you go?”

It was chaotic and Azriel’s eyes were wide as he looked from person to person. Everyone was staring at him expectantly. He paused and took a drink of his coffee before saying, “Why don’t we get our breakfast and sit down and then you can all berate me with questions.”

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” Miryam sang. Azriel just shot her a look, but that look quickly faded as he turned to look at Novan, who was looking up at Azriel, his head resting on Elain’s shoulder.

“Hi, buddy,” he said, quietly.

Novan yawned before replying, “Hi, hi.”

Azriel chuckled before turning to face Nesta, who looked like she wanted to set him on fire with her eyes. Azriel stilled, and cleared his throat before joining the others in line with a plate.

The room was nearly silent as everyone loaded their plates up and Miryam made pancake after pancake. When everyone had sat down and Miryam had placed a smiley face pancake in front of Novan before taking her own seat, Azriel said, “Who’s first?” Miryam, Cass, Nesta and Feyre all began talking at once. Only one person politely raised a finger, indicating he would like to speak. “Rhys, go ahead.”

Rhys asked the same question. “Where did you go when you left the police station? Your truck was still at that bar when I drove past at lunch.”

With a shrug, Azriel said, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted the fresh air. I decided to just walk back to the hotel instead of the bar. They were setting up breakfast when I got in, so I decided to have a cup of coffee, but then I sat there for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Feyre asked, possibly the first thing she’d said to him that didn’t sound angry or pitied.

“An hour and half, give or take. But then I went back up to my room and I found that I had a guest.” Azriel’s eyes flicked to Elain, who blushed and continued cutting up Novan’s pancake. He was happily eating the blueberry smile while she did so.

No one said a word.

All of them were looking between Azriel and Elain - all but Cassian, who was still stuffing his face.

“Wait a minute,” Nesta said, at last. Elain wouldnt meet her gaze. After she finished cutting up Novan’s pancake, she glanced beside her at Azriel before nibbling on a piece of bacon. “You,” Nesta went on, pointing at Elain, “how did you get into his room? Why were you in his room?”

“I was making sure he was okay,” she replied, voice light, although she still wouldn’t meet her older sister's gaze.

“Is that why you didn’t text me back until last night?” Feyre asked, her eyebrows nearly to her hairline. “You were with him all day?”

“I must admit, Azriel,” Miryam cut in. “As happy as I was to see you, I wasn’t expecting you until much later in the day. Especially considering your evening before.” She gave him a sidelong glance that said they would be having a stern conversation later. He averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

The silence in the room built. Finally, Az glanced at Elain and then back to everyone before he said, “Cass didn’t tell you guys I was at Elain’s last night?”

As one, Miryam, Nesta and Feyre said “Last night?!”

Cassian paused with his fork full of pancakes to his mouth, still stuffed from his last bite. He shrugged and mumbled, “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

Nesta smacked him a few times but then Novan asked, “So you guys had a sleepover?”

Elain choked on a piece of bacon as Azriel nodded, slowly. “Yeah, buddy.”

His eyes lit up. “I love sleepovers!”

Elain, having collected herself, smiled and patted Novan’s hand. Then, she looked at Nesta pointedly. “Let’s not talk about this right now. Cassian is right. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not?” Azriel frowned.

Elain’s eyes softened. “That’s not what I meant.”

The room got quiet for a moment and then Feyre asked quietly, “So does that mean you’re…back together?”

Elain was staring at her plate when she felt Azriel’s scarred fingers brush against hers in her lap. She glanced up at him, into his kind eyes, and she could see the truth of his words there.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

I’m not going anywhere.

She looked over at Novan, who was still focused on his pancake, and then back to Azriel and around to her family. She nodded once.

Azriel’s shoulders sagged as his hand around hers tightened. Nesta’s lips also tightened, but Miryam was smiling, softly.

“Well,” Cassian began, his mouth full. “Personally, I’m happy for the two of you.”

“Me too,” Rhysand agreed, but he was watching Elain, carefully.

Elain and Azriel were watching each other though, having their own little silent, comforting conversation. He smiled at her and she blushed as his thumb rubbed circles into the back of her hand.

Nesta stood and tossed her napkin over her plate, a hand clamped over her mouth. She rushed to the bathroom and they heard the door slam shut.

Miryam looked over her shoulder to where Nesta had run off. She turned back to Cassian who was still eating. He didn’t even look up at his mother, knowing her eyes were on him. “She won’t let me in. I’ve tried.”

“Cassian, she’s pregnant-.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He asked, taking a drink of his coffee. “I’ve spent hours knocking on the bathroom door, listening to her puke in the mornings. She will not let me in to- where are you going?”

He was looking at Elain who’d stood. “I’m going to check on her. She’ll let me in.”

Cassian scoffed. “Good luck.” They heard a quiet knock on the door and then it opened and closed again. “Are you kidding me?” He asked. “It’s my baby inside of her.”

“Yeah, you’re not very comforting in times of need,” Rhysand muttered.

Cassian shot him a vulgar gesture, and it was only when Novan repeated the gesture that Miryam was scolding him.

“So,” Miryam went on, after telling Cassian to knock it off. “Are you going to tell us what happened?”

Feyre seconded that notion.

“Starting when?” Azriel mumbled, taking another bite.

“How about from the time you walked in and found her in your hotel room?” Rhys asked.

Feyre asked, “How did she even manage to pull that off?”

Azriel cut another bite from his stack of pancakes and said, “She told them she was my girlfriend and she came to surprise me. They didn’t even ask for any proof.” He pointed his forkful of pancakes at Cassian. “If Elain was planning to murder me, you probably could have charged that girl working the front desk with accessory to murder.” He finally ate his pancakes, raising an eyebrow at Cassian.

“Did you two have sex, Azriel?”

He nearly choked, turning to look at his mother, just like both of his brothers did.

“Mom,” Azriel said, after he managed to swallow his food. “Really?” He glanced at Novan, who was humming to himself and playing with his tiny dinosaur figurines while he ate, completely oblivious to the conversation going on around him.

Miryam shrugged. “It’s a valid question, considering.”

“True,” Rhysand agreed.

“I’d like to know the answer,” Feyre followed.

Cassian was still stuffing his face with food, his eyes going back and forth between all of them.

Azriel blinked a couple of times, stammering. “I’m an adult.”

“You’re still the baby,” Rhys said. Feyre and Miryam nodded.

He cleared his throat. “I plead the fifth.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Overruled.”

“Meme, can I have more juice, pease?” Novan picked up his cup and held it out.

“Of course, sweetie,” Miryam said, standing and kissing the top of his head. She looked at all of them. “This conversation is on hold.”

Azriel sighed, taking another drink of his coffee.

Elain returned and said, “Nesta will be out in just a minute. I gave her some ginger tablets to soothe her stomach.” She sat down and began eating again, before noticing the quiet in the room. “What?”

Miryam came back from the kitchen and set Novan’s sippy cup in front of him. “Okay, Azriel, answer the question, please?”

“What question?” She asked.

“Whether or not you two had sex,” Miryam said, sitting back in her chair.

Elain gaped, then quickly looked to Novan, who was not intrigued with his juice. “Why are we talking about this at the breakfast table?”

“Because mom is nosey,” Azriel muttered. “So are the other three adults at this table.”

“Mothers tits,” Cassian mumbled through his food.

“Language!” Elain shrieked.

“Of course they had sex,” Cassian continued, continuing to eat as he talked. “A lot, judging by how red Elain’s face is.”

Elain sputtered before putting her face in her hands and groaning. “This is not breakfast talk.”

Azriel cleared his throat. “Can we all stop talking about Elain and I’s....romantic life?”

The bathroom door opened from down the hall and an exhausted Nesta plopped back down next to Cassian. “Sorry. What’d I miss?”

“Mama and Azriel had sex,” Novan said, having no idea what he was saying, but clearly proud of himself for contributing to the conversation, as he used his fork to scoot pieces of his leftover pancakes around his syrup covered plate.

Nesta's eyes opened wide and she demanded, “In front of him?”

“Of course not!” Elain groaned. “He stayed here last night.”

“Can we drop this conversation, please?” Azriel mumbled, his face pressed into his hands, muffling his words. “I want to die right now.”

“Good.”

Azriel removed the hands from his face and looked across the table.

Cassian rested his hand on her arm and quietly said, “Nes.”

“No,” she bit out, not looking at him, not taking her eyes off of Azriel. “You don’t just get to waltz back in here and act like you didn’t destroy her when you walked away from her. You don’t get to come back and pick up right back where you left off.” The room was silent. Elain was biting her lip and it was clear she was trying not to cry. “You didn’t have to deal with the fallout. You weren’t here when she’d wake up in the middle of the night shaking, crying so hard that she’d get physically sick. You weren’t here when she found out she was pregnant. You weren’t here when we had to admit her to-.”

“That’s enough, Nesta,” Elain whispered, tightly clutching Azriel’s hand under the table.

“Like hell it is,” she snapped. “He deserves to know what he did to you.”

“Then he deserves to hear it from me,” she said, looking up at her, tears shimmering on her face.

She opened her mouth to reply, but Cassian said, “Sweetheart,” and she looked down at him. “Now's not the time.”

Azriel pushed himself back from the table, his hand falling away from Elain’s.

All eyes were on him as he said, his voice low, “I have to use the restroom.”

It was a lie, they all knew it, but it didn’t stop him from numbly padding down the hallway and locking himself in the bathroom. He turned on the sink, just for the noise, as he braced his hands on the porcelain, his knuckles turning white.

He had it coming.

He deserved Nesta’s wrath.

He deserved the hateful words, deserved to know the truth, even though the truth would surely destroy him.

He deserved to be destroyed.

Excuses aside, he had walked out on Elain, and now he was back to see just what damage he’d caused. He let the water run as he wept, as he tried to control his anger and self loathing and failed.

He could hear raised voices in the other room, could hear that one of them was Elain’s and he could only assume the other belonged to Nesta. His head hung in shame as he knew Elain was out there defending him, regardless of the fact that he deserved the hatred he saw when he looked in Nesta’s eyes. It was the same thing he saw when he looked in his own.

Hatred. Disappointment. Anger. Pity. Regret.

These were the things he saw when he looked in the mirror every day. The things he saw when he looked up and gazed at his reflection. And it made him sick.

Without thinking, he pulled his fist back and slammed it into the reflective surface. It shattered, shards ricocheting across the small, tiled bathroom. All other sounds in the house ceased. Azriel stared at his fist, watching as blood welled along knuckles.

There was a frantic knocking at the door. “Az, baby? Are you okay?”

He blinked a few times, hesitating to let her in, but he promised. He promised he’d be there, and that included the hard times. Even when the hard times were his own.

He opened the door and she took in the tears streaming down his face and the blood dripping from his hand.

She stilled, her face going pale. Azriel opened his mouth but nothing came out. What was there to say? He’d repeated himself over and over and over again, and it wasn’t good enough.

It was never good enough.

So, he said the same thing he had said a million times already. “I’m sorry.”

His voice was a broken, miserable whisper, and Elain’s eyes fell as she took Azriel into her arms, holding the back of his head as he buried his face into her neck. His arms wrapped around her, tightly around her waist, careful not to get his bloodied mess on her sweater.

He sobbed, uncontrollably, hoping and praying that someone had taken Novan away during the chaos so that he didn’t have to see.

Azriel didn’t want Novan thinking any less of him than he probably already did.

The thought made him sob harder.

He just repeated his words, the mantra ringing truer and truer each time he said the words.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

Nesta had given up smoking when she was a teenager, but she hadn’t wanted a cigarette so damn badly in a long time.

Too bad she was pregnant.

Regardless, she sat on the swing on the front porch as far away from everyone as she could get.

Elain had never raised her voice with Nesta like she had today and Nesta had never yelled at Elain like she had. Nesta had never spoken her mind so freely either. She couldn’t understand how everyone could just welcome Azriel back after everything he’d put Elain and Donovan through.

But the sound of glass shattering from across the house made everyone freeze, and Elain was out of the room, calling for Rhys to take Novan down the street to the park.

The screen door opened and Miryam stepped out, offering Nesta a mug.

“No caffeine,” she said, her words clipped. “Bad for the baby.”

Miryam chuckled, although her eyes remained sad. “It’s a good thing this is tea then.”

When Nesta didn’t reach for it, Miryam set the hot mug on the little table next to the swing then sat next to Nesta without waiting for an invitation.

“Want to talk about it?” Miryam asked, at last.

Nesta didn’t respond. No, she wanted to snap, but she couldn’t snap at Miryam even if she wanted to. Not when the woman had stepped in and become the closest thing to a mother since her own died.

Miryam sighed and leaned back in the swing, looking out at the vast, calm landscape. “You’re wondering how I could welcome back Azriel so quickly. How we all can.”

Nesta didn’t say a word. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of being correct, even if Miryam already knew she was right.

“You have a right to be mad, Nesta,” Miryam said, quietly. “And you have a right to be scared.”

Nesta shook her head, slowly. “You were there. You saw Elain after he left, how broken she was.”

“Yes,” Miryam agreed. “I was. I did. I also hardly spoke to my youngest son for four years, my son who I was close to, because he was so deep in his self-loathing once he ran away.”

Nesta’s lips snapped shut and she turned her face away.

“I won’t excuse what he did, because it was wrong,” Miryam went on. “He shouldn’t have left. But, there’s one thing you need to know about Azriel, and it’s that he feels things a lot differently than his brothers. He feels too much. His life before us was…we don’t talk about it, but his self-worth has always been fragile because of it. When he was younger, he never handled his emotions correctly. When he felt too much, he hid, or he ran, like he just couldn’t help it.”

Drakon had found Azriel at the park with nothing but a suitcase packed with toys and snacks on more than one occasion.

Nesta shrugged a shoulder, although she neglected to meet Miryam’s gaze. “Doesn’t change the fact that he ruined my sister, who deserved a hell of a lot better.”

Miryam’s eyes softened. “Sweetheart, I haven’t seen the light shining in your sister’s eyes since Azriel left. Today, I saw that sparkle back in her eyes. If she was ruined, that light wouldn’t be shining anymore.”

Nesta swallowed hard. “What if he leaves again?”

“He won’t,” she said, and her voice was confident, even if it were soft.

“You don’t know that,” Nesta said, standing and beginning to pace, her tea forgotten on the table. Though her stomach was still flat, she placed a protective hand over it. “We never would have thought he would leave the first time, much less leave her at the altar.” Nesta’s eyes flashed as she looked above Miryam’s head and into the living room.

“Don’t you want Donovan to know his father?”

She looked back to a woman who’d become a mother figure for her. “Of course I do. I just want his father to be around without fucking my sister’s life up again.”

For a moment, Miryam said nothing, but then she said in the gentlest of voices, “I love Elain, too. I wouldn’t encourage a relationship with Azriel if I wasn’t sure his intentions were true. But when he looks at her, and when he looks at Novan... I know he means every promise that’s been coming out of his mouth.”

The screen door opened just a smidge and Cassian stuck his head out. “Glass is cleaned up.”

Miryam smiled sadly. “Thank you. How is he?”

“With Elain upstairs.” It wasn’t necessarily an answer to the question that was asked, but it was an answer, nonetheless.

Cassian looked at Nesta, noted the stubborn crease between her brows, and went back inside.

Miryam laid a hand on Nesta’s knee. “You don’t have to forgive him today. You don’t have to ever forgive him, but give him a chance. Let him prove himself before you write him off.” Nesta only nodded, unable to promise she’d do that. “I’m going to check on Azriel, but are you okay?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. She hadn’t realized, had no way of knowing, but Miryam had come to check on her before she’d even gone to see her own son. Without saying anything, Nesta wrapped her arms around her soon to be mother-in-law.

Miryam’s arms tightened around her, an answer to her silent request for the comfort she’d never received from her own mother.

[gothicwidowsworld]

Father Peter #2

Sitting at the oak bar Y/N winced at the sticky placemat but she couldn’t afford to be picky. It was either the sticky bar, near the loud pool table or with Niall O’shaughnessy the local slightly handsy drunkard. “Is this seat taken?” rolling her eyes at the interruption Y/N was about to give the intruder a piece of her mind but the sight of a dog collar shut her up really fast. “Of course Father.” Smiling thankfully the man took a seat. “You seemed more approachable than... him.” The dark haired male trailed off waving his hand in the direction of Niall. Taking a sip of her pint Y/N chuckled “Yeah you haven't got a pair of fucking tits so you’d be fine.” Realising her phrasing Y/N gulped. “Shit sorry Father.” Laughing Peter took a sip of his Guinness. “No it’s alright.” Smiling shyly Y/N nodded her y/h/c curls bouncing. A comfortable silence fell over the pair, an old hurling match replaying on the tv perched just behind the bar. “You’re new around here aren’t you?” Y/N quizzed already knowing the answer. 

“That obvious?” Peter asked awkwardly. Shrugging the girl faced the man. “Oh no just an observation. Call me the Derry Sherlock.” She joked but in reality she knew if he knew anything about Derry he’d know about Niall and more importantly her. “Can I get you another?” The older male pointed towards her empty pint glass. Checking her watch Y/N panicked realising the time. “I can’t I’m sorry.” Grabbing her jacket she’d delicately placed on the stool next to her Peter sighed nodding in understanding. “Ah boyfriend?” Stopping in her tracks Y/N tilted her head in confusion. “What?”. Turning to face her Peter smiled awkwardly. “You’ve got a boyfriend?”. Shaking her head wildly Y/N giggled. “No Father I don’t I’ve just got places to be and someone I don’t want to see.” Hoping to keep her identity anonymous just a little while longer. Technically her Da had threatened and would kick her arse if he saw her here even if Patrick didn’t care about her being there. Patrick often said she brought more traffic into the pub but that just meant men came to stare or flirt with her. Something that usually made her skin crawl but it was this or drinking at the bridge like a loser. 

And if she hadn’t come in she wouldn’t have met Peter. Much to her Mother's displeasure Y/N refused to go to church anymore. Patting her pocket for a pen the y/h/c girl leaned over the bar to grab a post-it note and scribbled her number across it. Brushing her hair away from her face she hadn't the note over before kissing his cheek and leaving. 

Smiling down at her Nokia Y/N reread the text that had just come though. Since she’d give her number to Peter they had been talking all weekend. Munching on a piece of cremated at best toast Y/N ignored her Sister and friends as they all scrambled about going on about their exams or something. She hadn’t wanted to stay at the Quinn’s since the exams weren’t hers but with her Sister and Cousin going her Ma and Da wanted a night off. 

The detour to school pissed her off so she left them behind babbling on about a smirking statue or something else pathetic. Now if you hadn’t guessed by now you would probably mirror Peter’s shocked expression when the girl he’d spent all weekend fantasising in multiple situations most of which were not family friendly walked through the office door holding a stack of paperwork donning the green uniform of a school girl.  “Sister Michael here’s the letters you wanted. I noticed Mrs Donovan had a couple of spelling mistakes in there so I fixed them up for you.” Nodding in approval Sister Michael smiled. Ground breaking I know but Y/N Mallon was the only student she could actually spend time with without wondering what on God’s green earth made her go into education. “Thank you Miss Mallon. This is Father Peter… Something or other.” The Nun waved her hand in a dismissive way. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear the young girl smiled. “It’s nice to meet you Father.” Subtly sending a wink his way before leaving Peter breathless yet again.

[lostinthemazecalledmyhead]

Part fourteen Lost in regret

Part one   Part two Part three   Part four   Part five   Part six    Part seven Part eight  part nine  part ten Part eleven  Part twelve Part thirteen

Previously: “Magic?” I asked not able to think of anything else that could explain the fact that I could not see what Hook was seeing. Hook nodded. “Where did you get this?” “That’s not important.” Hook said. “I want you to borrow this. Keep this safe for me.” I was getting the idea that it wasn’t just any magical book for him. It must be something personal. The part where the pages were blank made it kind of hard to decode the book, but still I was going to try. It probably must be activated by some kind of soul searching type of shit. Hook left me alone with the book. Since it was a nice sunny day I decided to go up and enjoy the sea breeze while trying to figure out what to do about the blank pages.

“If I was in my world I could have just typed this into google and gotten the answers I needed.” I said, frustrated that I hadn’t been able to come up with a solution for the blank pages. I looked up into Hook’s face to see that he was completely confused. “Just imagine that you could ask someone a question who has all knowledge in the world and they give you results that you can read yourself. Google is a bit like that, and that way you can save so much time searching books.” It’s hard to explain something to someone who has no clue of anything in your world. 

“Your world sounds… complicated.” Hook said unsure. “Believe me, it is. But at least we don’t have magic.” I said. “James,” Me using his first name told him I was about to cut a more serious subject. His eyes, blue as forget-me-nots, stared into mine. “who did this book belong to?” I could feel that it was something he would not be too happy to talk about, but it was something I felt like I should know. Indecisive he rubbed his hand across his mouth. “That is not important, Emily.” He said. I took his hand into mine and looked at him. “After what we have been through together, why won’t you tell me?” Hook pulled back his hand from mine and got back on his feet. “You don’t need to know everything. I can have my secrets, like you have yours.” With this he left. “What was that all about?” Cecco sat down next to me. “I’m not completely sure.” I mumbled watching Hook going through the door leading to below deck. His words had been a jab to the stomach. He thinks I am still hiding things from him. And in all fairness, maybe I was. “Before my family threw me out, I had my brother, Andre. He was only 11 months younger than me, and he was one of the many children my mother had given birth to.” Cecco said with a grin on his with hate wrangled face. I’m not sure why he was telling me this, but in my mind I was thanking him for the distraction. “So, how many children did she have?” I asked curious. “When I left she had twelve children and one on the way.” Cecco said. “I was the second oldest, but I was closer with the brother younger than me. Ten years ago, I was seventeen back then, Andre and I began as apprentices at a bar.” He paused, staring at the ocean in front of us. “Why do I feel like this isn’t a particularly happy story?” I asked dreadful. The fogy look in his eyes told me that his mind had drifted somewhere else entirely. He turned his head to look at me. I had never seen Cecco look vulnerable, but at that moment he just laid his heart in my hand and told me to look out for it. He was ready to bare his soul. “Because it wasn’t.” He said. “Andre had gotten into trouble and owed money to the wrong people. So one day he had decided to steal money from the tavern we learned at. Of course they realized something was gone. They came to our house, searched it and found some of the stolen pieces underneath my bed.” “Wait, Andre framed you?” I asked confused. Cecco nodded. “He did and I said that I was the one who had stolen from the tavern. No matter what happened, he was still my brother and I needed to take care of him.” “Sounds like you really cared about him.” I said. “What happened to you?” “I served a short sentence in jail. When I got out and wanted to come back home, I couldn’t. I had nothing to go back to.” Cecco told me. “And you know what happened after that.” I nodded, not knowing what else I could say to him. My fingers trailed the engravings on the leather bound of the book. “It took me some years until I realized that my way of helping my brother might not have been the best way. I just did what made sense to me at that time.” Puzzled I looked up into his green eyes. “What are you trying to say?” “He might do things you don’t like, but it comes from the right place. I’ve never seen him like this.” Cecco took my hands and held them in between his. “You changed everything for the captain, for me, for all of us. I don’t know how you did it, but you did.” “So, you are telling me you are not a bunch of lying, stealing, murderous pirates anymore?” I asked grinning. “One step at a time.” He said grinning back at me. “Baby steps.” I corrected.

“Cheers to the captain and miss Donovan!” Starkey shouted raising a bottle of rum. The crew raised their drink and cheered with him. I was standing in the back, hidden by the shadows, watching the pirates drink. There was a part of me that didn’t feel comfortable joining them completely. So I just stood there watching them, sipping from my drink. Cookson approached me. Even though he was built similar to Alf Mason I couldn’t help but feel on edge whenever Cookson was this close to me. Maybe it was because I knew more about Alf Mason than I knew about Cookson. “Hey.” I greeted him. All I got was a growl back in return. Then he just stood next to me without saying anything, making me more nervous than I already was. “What game were you playing?” I asked him trying to break the to me awkward silence. “Bone-ace.” He answered. No further explanation or words slipped his mouth. “Never heard of it.” I said. “Are you any good at it?” “I just lost three times.” Cookson said. “I can teach you how to play.” He offered without even once adverting his gaze from the group of pirates surrounding the table at which they were playing the game. “Maybe you aren’t the best person to teach me since you lost three times in a row.” I joked, but the look Cookson gave me quickly wiped the smile off my face. “I’d appreciate you teaching me.” “What you want is to get an amount of cards that add up to 31 or close to it. Every three cards you get dealt will be out in the open. With every deal you can decide if you want to keep the card or not. When you go over 31, you lose.” Cookson explained, but it was hard to understand the layout of a game without actually seeing it. “Sounds a bit familiar.” I said while trying to figure out which game I knew with similar rules. “You should play.” Cookson said. “I should what?” I asked overwhelmed. It was one thing to stand here watching and another to play a game I’ve never played before with pirates. Pirates weren’t exactly the most trustworthy type to play games with. “Go play.” Cookson said in a way that sent me walking over to the table without protesting. I pushed my way through the crowd surrounding the players. “There you are!” Cecco exclaimed happily drunk. “Here I am.” I said uncomfortable. A pirate whose name I didn’t know stood up so I could take a seat. “You play for money.” I realized seeing the silver coins on the table. The only thing I had on me that was worth any money was my jewelry. Some cheap silver rings I bought at the boutique in my town, those I could miss. But I also wore a gold ring with a ruby in the middle, that I never wanted to lose. My mom gave it to me when I turned sixteen. She said that I was the same age as she was when her aunt gave her that ring. Also the neckless I wore meant too much to me to lose. It wasn’t so much emotional value as it was a reminder. On the chain around my neck hung an anker, a heart and a cross. Hope, love and faith. Reminding me to always have hope, even when I felt like I lost it all. To love unconditionally and bravely. And to always have faith in myself, have faith in others. To have faith in others, maybe I unnoticeably lost a bit of that on the way. “I don’t have anything.” I said. “You have those jewels.” Smith said viciously. I got the feeling he never really liked me. But why, I couldn’t figure out. I slid off one of my rings and placed it on the table. “Let’s play.”

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore Guy - where are the heads?

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Kai Parker x fem!Reader slowburn

word count: 819

warnings: I DON’T KNOW WHERE THE HEADS ARE

music: n u a g e s - missing

Ever since Matt died, she’s been feeling empty. Y/N never dated him and never had any feeling for the guy except sisterly. They were a team in the physics class, two dumbasses unable to tell water and soda apart. Together, they managed to row through the two whole year of that nightmare.

They never found who did it to him. Matt was found on the floor of his house, with his neck snapped. Clean, quiet murder, no traces, no marks. It’s like he was sleeping. Only, this time Matt Donovan was finally dead. After all the tricks their vampire-hunting-monster-slaying-ghastly-compromising life offered, somebody was bound to die forever, at least once. They were just not ready for the day it actually happened. And nobody knew why. It was insidious, sudden like a blow in the dark, and tragic.

Then Y/N took on a strange habit of watching each and every single sunset she could grab, when the weather was clear. Not out of sentimental feelings, although each of them was unmistakable, every time. But it must have meant something to her, something from her past life, and she didn’t know why. Like there was a piece missing, and once again, like when Alex died, Y/N was stunned, wounded by realization that she didn’t even know how much it would hurt to lose somebody.

Maybe the pink clouds reminded her of arterial blood, or just made her want to listen to slow ambient which was soothing her soul; it very much made her think of her childhood, too, all that before Mystic Falls. That would not return ever. Her father was dead, his throat slit on the floor of her own room; her mother did not speak to her – and Y/N did not have a wish to change that. Her childhood friends were all adults now and seemingly they lost all memories of her, like she dipped in Malivore and got out by a mistake.

On her only day off, that she spent with Caroline, choosing drapes and decorations for the party, she got away by the evening and went to the football field behind the school. May was thinning, and the team trained early in the mornings. Kids felt like studying was the worst thing ever while the weather gets better and better every day. Point is, in the close of the day, a very rare jogger or a bunch of school kids sniffing stuff wondered here, so Y/N could sit in peace. In majority of cases in May it was so, but that evening her phone dinged with messages, one after another, seven times in a row, no less, like somebody’s been shooting them from a rifle.

Where are you?

It was Mal, and his texts cried distress.

Pick up

Someone butchered a bunch of ppl

At the Salvatore house, they’re like

Your friends?

Y/N lol

U alive

Seriously though

 She read it again. And again. Then she called Damon. The vampire picked up almost immediately.

“Where are you?”

“Damon, are you all okay? What the hell’s happened?”

“Is that on the news, or what? Where are you, Y/N? Why’s it so quiet? Are you okay?”

“I’m at school, on the field. Mal’s just texted me that there’s a bunch of dead people? What does it mean?”

“Dammit. Listen, go home, and don’t let anybody in. I’ll talk to you later”.

She shifted on the bench, feeling a sudden gush of cold wind out of nowhere.

“No, you won’t! Tell me now”, Y/N tried not to sound too pushy. “Is everybody okay?”

“Well, as far as I know, our bunch is fine”, Damon’s voice started to shake with rage, “but I’m having a difficulty to tell who’s dead, because they’re all currently residing on my front lawn lacking heads. And I’m chatting with you on the phone instead of looking”.

Y/N’s mouth went dry.

“Heads? You mean they have no heads?”

“Y/N”, Damon took a deep breath, audibly trying to keep his wits about him, “little one, somebody took their heads. Somebody ripped the heads off of no less than twenty people and put them all below our windows for a beautiful view. I just woke up from a nap about five minutes ago when I realized I can’t fucking breathe because of all the CORPSES. But I called everybody else and was about to call you, and everyone seems fine. I certainly don’t recognize these bodies yet, because they LACK HEADS!”

He hung up so suddenly Y/N didn’t understand it until after a couple of seconds. She put away her phone, forgetting about Mal completely. That mistake soon turned her back pocket into vibrating nightmare as her phone exploded with notifications.

That’s nuts

I mean now I get why you’re so obsessed with morbid stuff

This town is unbelievable

We’re still doing that party though?

Message me back so I know you’re alive and we’re still doing the party

I found a sick lamp that changes flickering from orange to blue

!

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Everything Has Its Price || Montgomery and Kaden

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @therealdeville and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Just some friendly hunter bonding time. 

The wind was still tonight. Not a good sign in Montgomery’s opinion. Even the worst hunter knows that you always stay upwind of your prey, that way they can’t catch your scent when you’re stalking it. When there’s no wind, the wind can change direction at any moment. A guttural howl was released into the night, followed by screams as the Pricolici that they had been hunting tore one of their party in two. Bloody fangs sinking into the neck of the creature as it’s razor sharp claws rended flesh from bone and dragged their torso apart with a visceral squelch. Montgomery didn’t even blink, merely pulling a silver stake from their belt and tossing it to Kaden with a smile that was perhaps a little too excited for the moment. “It’s time to really hunt,” Montgomery said all but stopping himself from licking his lips in anticipation as they watched the two other hunters that he’d brought along drive the Pricolici further down the alleyway that they had trapped it in with silver tipped spears that seemed to do little more then irritate it.

When Berger told Kaden he had a job for him, honestly he was a little shocked. Kaden’s sudden exit from the Bullet the other night had all but been forgiven or maybe just forgotten, who knew. Pricolici, didn’t see those every day; he could hardly turn it down. Not a fight that good. Even if he might have considered walking away if he knew who he’d be working with. The fuking asshole who killed his friend only a few weeks ago and was keeping her head somewhere. If there wasn’t a monster in front of them, he had half a mind to take the stake and ram in through the fucking hunter that tossed it to him. As Berger’s bones crunched and flesh twisted under the monster’s teeth and claws, it was clear there was no time for squabbles or any question what side he was on. This was hunter versus monster, no matter how much he might want to see the head ripped off of one of the hunters in question. The only way to survive was to work together. His fingers wrapped around the stake in one hand, gun full of silver bullets in the other. “Let’s go,” he said, a trace of a smile on his face as he charged into the hunt.

Montgomery had been itching to hunt a Pricolici, but they weren’t exactly common. So when word that one of them was haunting the forests and alleys of White Crest had reached him he had set about contacting those he could trust. Berger had brought in Kaden and so far the younger hunter had proven himself more capable then Berger. Shame the way his spine crunched in the darkness. Montgomery pulled a stake from their belt and moving forwards, Montgomery watched as the Pricolici darted forwards and snapped one of the spears with ease, swiping at the hunter in front of it. Donovan darted backwards? Was that her name? Montgomery couldn’t be sure. Either way she dodged just fine and Montgomery scooped up the broken end of her spear, jabbing it into the Pricolici’s bicep. It let out a guttural howl of pain that reverberated through the close confines of the alley. The noise bouncing from one wall to another. “Keep it busy, keep wounding it, don’t let it focus on one of us, it’ll pick us off.”

There was nothing to focus on other than the hunt. Personal feelings had to be set aside. Kaden would make sure his anger found a target either way. He let off a shot or two at the beast as he ran in towards the action. Too much movement to hit the heart or even a decent artery somewhere, but the Pricolici still twitched at the pain all the same. Gun hastily holstered as he got closer, he slipped past Donovan and stabbed at the monster’s leg by it’s knee. Its claws lashed out at Kaden’s head but he twisted away to avoid them. The howls of pain were fine but they weren’t enough. As Donovan darted in for another attack, Kaden took a second to reach for his silver knife, Slicer, before lunging around at the creature’s back. He could see a glimpse of the other hunter’s silver hair out of the corner of his eye as he reached up and pulled himself onto its back and dug the knife in, twisting the blade as he pulled it out and drove it back in, gripping tight as he could at the creature’s shoulders. There’s no way he’d be able to hold on for long, not with the snarls and teeth turning back towards him, but he’d get in as many fucking hits as he could until then.  

Donovan darted forward, aiming for the heart. But Montgomery watched with a cruel indifference as the Pricolici snapped at Donovan and caught her in the shoulder. She collapsed against the wall with a yelp of pain and Montgomery darted forward with their stake, driving it up and through the creature’s rib cage and into it’s heart. They had used Donovan’s demise as a distraction, but they were also now more then sure that they were going to have to dispose of her. The Pricolici tried to move, and Montgomery looked at Kaden who had gotten on the beast’s back and helped keep it still. “Do you want to do the honours?” Montgomery asked. It was always interesting to see how a Hunter completed their kill.

As the stake drove into the beast’s heart, Kaden felt the monster go limp and still below him before it collapsed to the ground. He wiped a spot of blood beneath his eye, smearing it surely but getting most of it out of the way. That was done. Good. They could go home. Call it a day. Collect whatever money might be in this if someone had actually posted a bounty. Kaden was a second away from congratulating them when Montgomery locked eyes with him. Do the-- His brow creased. “Do the honours? Of what?” he said as he used the toe of his boot to kick at the limp arm splayed on the ground. There was a little twitch but no real response. “Thing’s dead. You took that, already, old man. Too late for me.” Revelling in a kill wasn’t really how Kaden approached a hunt, anyway. Sure, hunting a monster, fighting it, taking it down, killing it and knowing the world was a little better off, that was a hell of an adrenaline rush. Nothing like it. But rarely was he angry enough to languish over the killing blow. There was no need to prolong death. Unless he meant… Putain. Of course this asshole was taking a trophy. “Don’t tell me you’re fond of keepsakes. Isn’t that a little trite or something?”

Shrugging gently, Montgomery set about quickly and expertly skinning the creature, the claws and fangs went too and Montgomery looked up at Kaden. “I’m a trophy hunter,” he replied as if this fact should have been obvious, “of course I am fond of keepsakes it is a good proportion of my income.” The hunters nowadays didn’t have the same spark as they had once. They were too oblivious to the going’s on of the world in Montgomery’s humble opinion. Turning to Kaden Montgomery quickly packed their keepsakes away. “We can’t leave the body here for some local bumpkins to find and tell the cops about, I’ll need a hand getting it out of here and someone needs to take Donovan to see someone who can stitch up that wound, Langley you’re with me, Griffith get Donovan some help.” Montgomery turned to Kaden, help me get this in the back of my truck, I’ll burn the body in the furnace at my cabin.”

“Good for fucking you. Some of us just get day jobs.” Kaden looked on as the other hunter collected his kill. It’s not like he didn’t know this shit happened. Having a fucking day job was a recent development for him as it was. Hell he knew the people paying the bounties got the money somewhere. And he knew ful well the hunters over they years who’d been able to pay him for assistance only were able to do so by collecting fucking trophies. Didn’t mean he planned on participating. And it didn’t quell any of the rage boiling inside of him as he watched. It would be so easy to just take his knife and ram it right into the hunter’s back while he bent over the beast. Sure, he’d have to deal with two other hunters after but who fucking cared. The moment was gone before he could take it. Probably for the best. If he killed Montgomery now, he may never know where to find— Kaden rolled his shoulders back and nodded, gathering Berger’s body just as he was told. Easy enough to follow orders and fall back into his training. It could almost be comforting in a way. If the circumstances weren’t quite so fucked. With everything ready and loaded, he climbed into the truck and did his best to memorize every detail on the drive to Montgomery’s cabin, every street sign, every road, and every twist and turn. “I’m guessing you have an impressive collection all your own. Does it rival the Bullet?”

Raising an eyebrow gently, Montgomery laughed in reply. “Why have a day job if you’re so naturally good at something like this? You could make a lot of money just by hunting things that you would take care of anyway.” Montgomery didn’t understand why the others didn’t take up the hunt. He had been born to do this. It made sense. Not just the supernatural either, anything that could be prey, the thrill of the kill invigorated him. Slipping behind the wheel, Montgomery drove without much concern. After all the major danger of the night had been dealt with and it was time to relax, a little at least. “I’ve been hunting for many years, I’ve had the pleasure of doing so on six continents, my collection isn’t as impressive as I would like, but it’s a work in progress and it is starting to get there. This will be my 453rd trophy, though those aren’t all unique trophy’s. Hunting sometimes requires that you repeat your work. Not every kill becomes a trophy either, some of them aren’t worth it. It’s only the memorable ones.” Montgomery had given instructions for Griffiths to join them after attending to Donovan, Montgomery planned to share a drink with their fellow Hunters. “We’ve got a bit of time before Griffiths will return, would you like to see the collection?”

Kaden shrugged. Getting paid was nice but the whole sacred duty bullshit always made demanding money feel pretty fucked up. At least that was how he saw it. “Well I’m animal control so I managed well enough.” Without making it some kind of fucked up sport or competition or cash cow, whatever the fuck this guy saw it as. “Four hundred and what?” Shit. That was-- Hell, even if he did have plans to try and steal Bea’s head while he wasn't looking, he’d never fuccking find it fast enough to get away with it.  Though to be honest, if he really sat and thought, decades of hunting, it might have added up to something of the same. More than enough to lose count, at least. Shit, why did that leave a pit in his stomach? “Guess you’ve settled in well and good in one place, then. Enough to keep a collection like that anyway.” If he’d had any plans to kill this connard or just find the head and take off running, that was gone as soon as there was mention of Griffiths returning. Putain. “Sure, I’ll take a look. See if there’s anything I don’t recognize.”

“At least you work in a similar field to your strengths,” Montgomery had never felt a duty to do what they did. Maybe others did. But the truth was that they did what they did because of the pleasure of it. He enjoyed his work and he was good at it. That was why people paid him top dollar for his wares when he decided to part with them. “If I didn’t hunt I’d be a doctor,” Montgomery said eventually, “but the medical profession was too restrictive for me to really flourish.” Medical ethics and Montgomery’s morals didn’t exactly run in parallel. “I’ve been doing this for a number of years, I’ve been successful enough to set up homes across the world. I’ve got the cabin in White Crest, the old family home in South Africa near to Durban and a lodge in the Black Forest in Germany. But this is where I keep most of my prized possessions, after all, White Crest is well stocked with exotic prey that are usually more than willing to die.” Leading Kaden through their house, they paused to collect glasses and fill them with single malt before leading Kaden through the cabin. Cabin was an understatement of course, but Montgomery had never liked to call this place anything less. He headed down to the basement, taping in a code on the large metal door that protected his basement before letting Kaden into a room devoid of windows. The basement was full of glass cases, stands, racks, hooks and shelves. Trophies from decades of hunting decorated the room and Montgomery couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in his stomach.

A fucking doctor? This guy? A guy with seemingly no empathy in a position meant to help people? The thought sent shivers down Kaden’s spine. Not nearly as many as seeing the trophy room in its full glory, though, he could count on that. “Fair enough. I’m from Lyon so I’ve been through most of Europe, a little bit of Africa and the Middle East but not much. Only found myself stateside rather recently. This town is something else. Lyon has a lot of monsters, but nothing like this.” He really hated how easy it came, being this friendly and on some sort of similar grounds as anyone this morally bankrupt. The room was worse than he could have imagined. Contained, in a basement, with a large metal door. He noted the security system but there was no way he’d be able to track or remember that code. He’d have to warn Nell. One quick glance around the room, he’d have to warn Nell about a lot of things.

Kaden tried not to go slack-jawed but he figured it might be preferable to a look of horror that matched all he was feeling. He practically ran into a life-sized siren, mounted and posed as if in the heat of battle, fully transformed and covered in feathers. Not far off was a sword with feathers wrapped around it, likely shriken. The far side was lined with cases full of teeth and fangs, different sizes and lengths, some tusks and claws, too. The back had a very large skull with three eye sockets, likely from a biess if the antlers were any indication. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a section full of pinned wings and tried not to visibly wince. He’d expected at least one set, but that was… If there was a pair that looked like Regan’s, he didn’t know, he refused to spend enough time staring at them to know. Nearby were all sorts of fae related keepsakes. Lungs, nails, tongues. Kaden gravitated towards the section with all the horns, it seemed distant enough from anything or anyone he knew. There was no way he was approaching the rack full of selkie pelts. Maybe he would just ask Nell to bring those back with her, too. The spot he chose had been a mistake. He caught a glimpse of a case lined with shelves. Jars and jars of heads. Kaden felt the bile crawling up his throat and darted his eyes away back to what looked like lampade antlers. And a set of eyes just below. Killing monsters was one thing, but this? He had to play along. “Impressive collection, not sure I could see it all in one go if I wanted to.” And he sure didn’t fucking want to. Nor did he ever want to come back here unless it was to rescue what he could and burn the rest to the fucking ground. “Got a favorite?”

Studying the younger hunter, Montgomery had to admit that he wasn’t entirely convinced that Kaden had the stomach to see the full collection. Perhaps he was one of those hunters who was somewhat selective about what he killed. “Yes,” Montgomery turned and headed to the back of the collection, pulling down a perfectly shined silver urn. “This is the ashes of an elder vampire that I put down in Prague.” Montgomery had been much younger then and it had been the first trophy that they had actually felt truly proud of. “It was nearly six hundred years old,” Montgomery replied with a shrug, “when I put him down I collected the ashes, unfortunately the other hunters that I pursued him with weren’t as fortunate as me, but survival of the fittest and all that.” Montgomery placed the urn on the shelf once more and smiled. “Though there are perhaps more exotic pieces, that one has sentimental value.”

“Elder vampire, nice.” Kaden’s eyes kept drifting towards the rows and rows of heads across the way. Was Bea there? Stuck on a fucking shelf? Intended to be some part of a morbid museum forever? Fuck, how many loved ones were hanging here on display? How many people out there somewhere mourned over what these proudly displayed keepsakes represented? He blinked it away. They were monsters. For now, for his sake, every single one of them were very dangerous monsters. Even Bea. “Good thing you brought a dust pan with you on a hunt,” he quipped, turning to walk through a bit more, trying to keep the wings out of his line of sight. “I’ve only ever assisted on hunting one, briefly. I usually leave those to the slayers. Give them their big moment, all that.” The more he walked through, the more he noticed stuffed wolpertingers littered throughout the place. It was almost possibly endearing. Only really not. “Elder vampire is far from the rarest thing here, though. Didn’t take you for a sentimental kind of guy.” Not while looking around the collection, that was for sure.

“A hunt is -- as I’m sure you well know -- a very visceral experience and one that can be truly shaping of lives,” Montgomery couldn’t help but think that his statement were true on more then one level. “Either way, whatever my reasons this is my favourite, I’m not sure I can entirely explain it myself, but I have a gut feeling. Always been drawn to this one.” Looking fondly at the collection around him, he led Kaden deeper into the room. “Of course, it makes sense to let those who are best suited to hunting the undead do their work, I’ve never been satisfied hunting a single thing that’s all. I’ve always believed,” Montgomery raised the whiskey to his mouth and swallowed, before licking his lips and continuing, “well I believe variety is the spice of life.”

Looking at the urn one more time, Kaden was reminded of the first vampire he was shoved into a room with, forced to stake it or die himself. At age ten. Sorting through what hunting meant to him used to be simple. Not so long ago, he was proud of how young he’d been when he’d accomplished that. Now he questioned what in the hell his parents were thinking. As he turned the corner, he saw what originally looked like a preserved human body. Only not quite human. A werewolf in partial transformation. “Shit,” was all he could manage at first. “Must have gotten her at the exact right time. Looks like a clean kill, too.” It was hard to see a wolf right as they transformed let alone kill it. Kaden took a small, unsure sip of the whiskey in his hand. He should be in awe. He could look like he was in awe, right? There was no reason for him to feel horrified. She was just a werewolf. “Griffiths is probably going to be back soon, right? Probably shouldn’t keep him waiting too long.”

Nodding, Montgomery decided that it was best that they head upstairs. After all, Griffiths would be joining them shortly and there was something about a mystery in Montgomery’s collection that he liked to do his best to preserve. After all, the mystery of the hunt was what had kept him hooked for so long. Would he succeed or would his prey prevail over him? Montgomery nodded. “Aye, that was a difficult kill, she’d ripped out three other hunters throats before I collected her bounty, was down in a small town in El Salvador, the locals claimed she was a chupacabra but honestly it was clear that she was just a wolf that was out of control. It was a mercy really.” A painful mercy, but mercy nonetheless. “Please, head upstairs, Griffiths will certainly be joining us soon.”

[afteriwake]

Back To The Beginning Of It All (6/6 - A “The Past All Over Again” Story)

And the last chapter! I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride, and stick around for the next installment, a rewrite of “The Blind Banker.” Many thanks to @greenskyoverme and @strangelock221b for their support!

Back To The Beginning Of It All - Mycroft sent Sherlock, and Molly as well, on an assignment he thought was not much more than the delusions of a madman. It turned out to be so much more than that, as the three of them as sent back to 2010, with all the knowledge of the last eight years ahead of them...but only two of them are aware they were not meant to go back as well.  

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 6 | SERIES PAGE | BUY ME A COFFEE?

There was no shot through the window.

When Sherlock had calculated in his head everything that could happen, he hadn’t counted on John not figuring it out quickly enough. But Lestrade and Donovan had come in with an armed tactical team, and the cabbie was arrested, and John was…

Taking a call, it seemed, while he sat on the floor of the ambulance, a shock blanket around his shoulders. There was a bandage on his hand, evidence of the lone misstep on his part, as the blade had slipped from his grasp when the cabbie had grabbed his wrist. He should have had a blade with a handle. He’d remember that next time.

Lestrade was busy giving instructions to the other coppers around, and it was Donovan who came over to him. “You’re an idiot,” she said.

“I know.” He flexed his hand slightly, wincing at the tightness of the bandage.

“But you were right, much as I hate to admit it. He seems...broken. If he doesn’t find a way to off himself in his cell, I expect he’ll spill the entire story.” She looked down at him. “What do you get from this?”

“A sense of relief,” he said, looking up at her. “I proved I was right, and one more bad person is taken off the streets.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Your acquaintance has a gun on him. I think if we’d been just a bit slower, there’d have been a shot taken and your brother would be pulling strings to keep Dr. Watson out of jail. Tell him to get rid of it, or stop using it when you work together. For his own good, of course.”

“Of course. Thank you for the sage advice, Donovan.”

“You’re not putting me off, are you?”

“I’m dead serious.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’d say you were replaced with a pod person if I wasn’t so sure you were actually you. Midlife crisis?”

“New relationship,” he said. “And I’m about to have the riot act read to me as soon as I collect my colleague and go to her home.”

Sally seemed to have a satisfied grin on her face after he spoke. “Shame I won’t get to see it.”

He took off his shock blanket as John finished the call. "Come by Barts tomorrow and you may see me trying to make amends.”

Her eyes got wide. “You and Molly?”

“First name basis?” Sherlock asked, surprised. He knew they knew each other, but…this early? Not just after his return from the dead?

“Acquaintances, really, but yeah. You hurt her, I’ll drop you in a hole so deep MI-6 won’t be able to find you. Understand?”

“Loud and clear.” He set the blanket on the floor of the ambulance. “If Lestrade needs me no further, I’ll go home to lick my wounds.”

“She’ll forgive you. You’re alive, after all,” Sally said before turning and heading back to the ring of police cars by the ambulance. Sherlock turned away and headed to John. From his own memories, Mycroft had paid this visit in person so already, changes were happening by the score.

“Important call?”

“Your brother,” John said. “Said I should take the flat. Offered me money to spy again but I turned him down.”

“Really, you should have taken it. Would have made a nice padding to your pension.”

“I don’t tattle on my friends,” John said, looking up at Sherlock with a grin.

“So we’re friends?” Sherlock asked, a grin on his own face. John nodded.

“Close enough for government standards, which by that I mean your brother is part of the government, and by his standards we’re friends.”

“It’s more like Mycroft is the government. I’ve never really tested how much power he truly holds.” That was an out and out lie but past John didn’t need to know yet how much power Mycroft truly wielded. Then he held out his phone. “I need to make a call.”

“I know you have your own phone,” John said, digging his mobile out of his jacket pocket. “You texted me to come to Baker Street.”

“I know, but you have whatever burner phone number my brother is currently using.” John handed Sherlock his phone and Sherlock pressed redial on the last number in John’s call log. It rang twice before it was picked up with no answer. “I’m alive and well, John’s taken the flat, and I insist you take out all surveillance in my bedroom. Molly will be staying over at times if she doesn’t kill me for getting injured tonight.” He hung up then and gave the mobile back to John.

“You are more serious with her than I thought.”

“We’ve been acquaintances for a long while, and that became friendship and more. Neither of us wishes to wait to enjoy the benefits of a relationship with each other. I’ve found it easier to sleep with her than alone.” He nodded to the bank of police cards. “Let’s see about going to her home. I told her I would.”

“What about me?”

“She’s got an excellent guest bedroom. Comfortable, from what I understand.”

---

She hugged him tight the minute she opened the door and Sherlock waved his bandaged hand to wave. She may have sniffled a bit into his Belstaff, but when she let go she hugged John, too.

“I didn’t do anything,” John said, hugging her back awkwardly.

“Oh,” she said, looking at Sherlock. The look in his eyes said he would explain the full events later, but for now, she got them each something warm to eat, a drink to take the edge off, and the conversation drifted between the events of that evening and other topics of conversation until John began to yawn. Molly showed him to the guest bedroom and then came back to find Sherlock finishing his whiskey and then taking the glasses to the sink to rinse them.

She started to ask a question but he put a finger to his lips and then reached for her hand. She carefully grasped his bandaged one, letting their fingers loosely slide into interlocking positions, and he led her to her bedroom. She’d taken the opportunity while he was gone to hit the local store to get a pyjama set for him, and some boxers and a vest for when it was hot. He stripped down to his pants and then put the pyjamas on before getting into bed. She did likewise, knowing tonight was a night for comfort and not shagging, at least not at the moment.

Once she was cradled against him, her head on his shoulder, settled into the crook of his neck, he joined his good hand with hers. “It all went sideways. I was overconfident. John...he wasn’t there in time. The cabbie must have driven faster this time because I didn’t play along the way I had before. It must not have been enough for him, so he wanted to get me to take the poison more quickly.”

“We can’t do everything exactly the way we did before,” she said softly.

“No, we can’t. Things have changed even when we can’t anticipate them. Maybe I didn’t let the cabbie brag enough. I may have lingered too long at Barts with you. John may have left Mycroft’s side too quickly. There are a myriad of reasons why the timing was off, but if it hadn’t been for luck, I could have been injured far worse.”

She tightened her grip on his hand and he brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “So what do we do?” she asked.

“We try to stay as close as we can to the events of our past but we accept that things are never irrevocably going to play out the same. We have some knowledge of the grand scheme of things, which gives us an advantage.” He lowered their hands. “My enemies are dangerous, but I have ideas that we can change as needed about how to use our future knowledge to its best advantage.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’ll keep us safe, Molly. I promise.”

“Don’t promise me that,” she said. “Promise you’ll do your best to keep us safe.”

He nodded then. “Then I promise I’ll do my best to keep us safe.”

“And I will too,” she said, letting go of his hand and wrapping her arm around his waist. She held him close and he shut his eyes, savoring it. He had come closer tonight to losing everything he had ever wanted, and it had scared him. But he wouldn’t give in to fear; he’d take his lessons, learn them well, and move forward. It was the intelligent thing to do and Sherlock Holmes was nothing if not an intelligent man.

[lynyrdwrites]

Changeling

I managed to get it done!  Here is my contribution for Day 1 of the AU week put on by @klaroline-events. I did the Fae. Because. Cross posted to AO3.

---

She was running about five minutes late for class, and it was irritating.  Not because she worried it might affect her mark; this professor didn’t care about attendance, but even if he had, Caroline had learned how to use her particular brand of charm to get around things like attendance grades.

              She just didn’t like to run late.

              Sort of like how she didn’t like clutter.  Or poorly planned events.  Or anything that required her having to work with other people as equals.

              She had an ex boyfriend who had once called her a neurotic control freak.  Caroline preferred natural leader, but Tyler hadn’t been entirely wrong. She just liked to make sure things were done right.  And that everything was in its proper place.

              And today, she was late.  It made her grate her teeth as she slid into the lecture hall. She took a seat in the back, a row she never liked.  She was always in the center, where the view was the best, but she didn’t come across a teacher’s pet.  No one, including teachers, liked the teacher’s pet.

              But the back?  That was reserved for the slackers or the late ones.  Sitting there made her skin itch, and she gritted her teeth. Caroline had never liked interruptions to her routine, and this interruption was going to throw her whole day off.  She found herself scowling at the front of the class and not hearing anything the professor said.  Everything felt wrong, and it had since her alarm had failed to go off that morning, forcing her to cut her morning routine short.

              And someone was watching her.

              She ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth, over her teeth.  It slipped over a sharpened canine, the sharp tang of bloody metal hitting her tongue, while her fingernails – painted a metallic pink that didn’t detract at all from their abnormal sharpness – tapped out a staccato on the desk next to her laptop. Her gaze darted to each side, but the others in the class were all focused ahead on what the professor was saying, or not focused on anything at all.  

              None of them paid attention to Caroline, except for the girl in the seat right next to her, who glared when Caroline’s unrest disturbed her from staring blankly at the YouTube video she was watching. Caroline gave a sugary sweet smile in return, one that showed just a few too many teeth… and how abnormally sharp they were.

              The girl paled and turned by to her screen. Caroline continued to shift, even as she tried to pay attention to the professor.  

              The feeling of being watched persisted throughout the whole class, and when it ended, she was on her feet, whip fast, looking at the back wall of the class, certain she would come face to face with her observer.  

              There was no one there.  No matter how long Caroline continued to stare, ignoring classmates as they moved around her, heading for the door, no one looked back at her.

              Yet the back of her neck continued to itch.

---

              Caroline could not recall a time when she wasn’t aware she was different.  Her teeth just a bit too sharp, her nails dark and even sharper.  The only one that hadn’t been at least a little afraid of her had been Bonnie Bennet.  That had made her Caroline’s best friend, even though others assumed it was the town sweetheart, Elena Gilbert.  

              No, Elena had been too nervous around Caroline. Always wary of those sharp nails. But Bonnie had shoved Caroline down for not sharing her ball on their first day at pre-school, not caring that all the other children kept a wary distance, and that had earned Bonnie her eternal loyalty.

              She had become ever increasingly aware of the fact that she was different and her parents didn’t like it as she grew older. As Bill Forbes began to spend less time at home, until he disappeared entirely, and Liz put in longer hours at the station, and when she did come home, it was reeking of cheap whiskey.  Maybe Caroline should have felt guilt over it, but she’d never been inclined towards self-loathing.  Instead, she had simply felt distaste.  

              Bonnie Bennet could accept that Caroline was a little… weird.  But the people meant to parent her couldn’t.  Caroline decided at the age of fourteen – when she found out her dad wanted to marry another man and had e-mailed Liz the divorce papers instead of calling either of them – that their weakness was on them, not her.

              She was meant to be spectacular.  She wouldn’t force herself into some narrow hole just because they didn’t like that her teeth and nails and entire character were too sharp for Mystic Falls.

(If part of her, the part that was a lost girl, cried over this… well, no one but Caroline and her pillow needed to know.  The world had no right to know her heart’s secrets)

              She had survived Mystic Falls.  She had graduated.  She had left her father with his new family, and her mother in the bottom of a bottle.  She had hugged Bonnie.

              And then she had left.

              She had a whole, huge world to explore after all.

              And it all started with college, and a journalism degree.  Because journalists got to see things and people in a way no one else did.  It was their job to truly understand, and Caroline wanted to understand everything.

              But now she had an itch on the back of her neck, and a feeling in the pit of her stomach that said a storm was coming. Caroline’s instincts had always been right.

              And now they were screaming that something – someone – wanted to ruin her dreams, and that couldn’t be allowed.

              Yet for all her instincts and careful attention to the world around her, a week passed after that first class, the one where she was late, without Caroline identifying who it was that was stalking her.  She knew they were there, but couldn’t see them.

              It might drive her mad.

              It might drive her into a bottle, just like Liz.  

              That one was particularly annoying.  Caroline had never wanted to be her mother, not even before she had realized how much the woman feared and disliked her own daughter.

              “You seem out of it.”

              April’s voice interrupted Caroline’s rattled thoughts, and she almost snarled at the other woman.  But April didn’t deserve that.  She was a bit boring, and probably didn’t deserve much thought at all… but she definitely didn’t deserve one of Caroline’s snarls.  Not when she put on a brave face and pretended not to notice the fangs or the nails, even if she was terrible at pretending anything.  

              At least she had invited Caroline to the study group for their shared English course.  It had taken several sessions before the other members of the group became as adept at hiding their fear of Caroline’s abnormalities as even April was.

              But since her studies were important, Caroline kept her smiles that bared her teeth to a minimum, and made sure she painted her nails in bright, cheerful colors, to ease the way.  Now they hardly ever shivered in fear, unless Caroline wanted them to.

              Her paranoia made her want to make them shiver. Those that feared her wouldn’t dare to mess with her.  

              “I’m not in the mood for studying,” Caroline said shortly, pushing herself back from the table they had claimed in the library.  Her chair screeched across the floor loudly, and for a single second, paranoia was forgotten when Matt Donovan winced and hunched his shoulders, and Caroline allowed herself a pleased grin that showed off her fangs.

              Matt whimpered, and Caroline chuckled, even as her neck itched again and she stalked away, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

              As she headed for the exit, a shadow detached itself from the shadows of a nearby book shelf.  She continued to walk, but breathing was suddenly easier.  

              She hadn’t just been paranoid.

              The shadow followed her, as she weaved across campus. Other students moved out of her way, instinctually sensing that she was not one with whom they should mess.  She travelled quickly between two buildings, taking shortcuts that only a well-established student would know.  The shadow followed the whole time.

              It was finally in the agricultural sciences building that she led it into an empty room.  She had taken a communications course in that room, and had learned that it was always empty on Tuesdays and Thursdays from one until three.  She had often used it to study.  The agricultural science building tended to be relatively quiet. Theirs wasn’t an agriculture school, so the students and faculty that frequented the building were relatively low in company.  

              “What do you want?” she asked, moving to the front of the classroom, so that the professor’s desk was between her and the shadow, and one of the exits was to her left.  

              “I am here to take you home.”

              The shadow was a man.  Dressed entirely in black, which made Caroline want to roll her eyes.  Apparently her stalker was a drama queen, when he wasn’t getting her paranoia ramped up to extreme levels.  

              “I don’t need someone to take me home.  I know where my home is.  I even have the keys.” She considered tugging them out of the pocket of her jacket, but then decided against it.  This mean, this shadow, there was something off about him.  

              Caroline recognized it, because it was the same off people sensed about her.  

              He eyed her curiously, and cocked his head to the side. After a moment, a slow smile curved his lips, cutting dimples into his cheeks.

              He had fangs.

              They weren’t like hers – dainty points on her canines. No, these were larger, twinned fangs that turned that smile, that should have been charming, into something monstrous.

              His eyes glowed amber.  They hadn’t been before.  Just a second ago, they had been blue; but now they were amber surrounded by black.  Caroline should likely be terrified, but she had never meant someone else that was so clearly other.

              Despite her better judgment, she found herself curious.  

              “Who are you?”

              The man stepped towards her, and it took all of Caroline’s considerable stubborn nature not to take a step back.  Even before the fangs and the eyes, something about the man had screamed predator.  Now that she could see it as well, all of her instincts screamed at her to run.

              But those were the instincts that had been created before her parents had begun to loathe her.  The one formed on hunting trips with Bill.  Those were the instincts of a human.

              The Other in Caroline was fascinated.  She want to run a claw down the man’s neck, and see what color his blood was.  

              Caroline’s was red, but not the usual red.  It was a red so dark it almost appeared black. She still remembered the way here parents had turned so pale, when they had seen that blood.  More than her fangs or her claws, it had been that blood that had made them hate her.  

              She wanted to know if the man’s blood was almost black as well.

              He stopped on the other side of the desk, just inches away from it, so the wooden surface was all that separated them.  He still watched her, and Caroline tensed. Her fascination wouldn’t get her killed. If he made a move, she would go for the door.  If he tried to get in her way, there were chairs she could use as weapons.  

              Instead of attacking, he suddenly gave a flourished bow, as though he had stepped out of one of the stupid fairy tales Caroline had once sighed over, before she’d realized the Other was always the villain and always lost.

              She had lost her taste for princesses and castles and happily ever afters after that.

              “They call me Klaus,” he said, glancing up at her with that wicked grin and those inhuman eyes.  

              “Okay,” Caroline replied slowly, contemplating him with narrowed eyes.  “And who are they?”

              “The Fae, of course.  My people.  And yours.”

---

              When Klaus had come to the Realm of Humans to find the Lady Caroline – the real Lady Caroline, not the fool of a child that had been brought to replace her – he had imagined it would go rather simply. The humans were weak, simplistic creatures.  What Fae would toss aside the promise of Faerie to stay amongst those that would shun them?

              No one.

              So he would find her, swoop her back to their home, and the plans he had been putting into play would allow him to claim the power of the Fire Fae, just as he had already claimed that of the Shadow Fae.  

              And all seemed to be going perfectly.

              “The Fae, of course.  My people.  And yours.”

              And here was where she would fall into his arms, believing him the savior, and he would gain all he wanted.

              And then she laughed.

              Right in his face.

              Not a little chuckle, or the delicate titter of the ladies of the Courts.  No, this was a belly laugh, one that made Caroline bend in half, tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes.  She stumbled back two steps, until she could let the wall at her back take on her weight as she continued to laugh.  

              “You… my… oh my God.”

              Klaus failed to see what she found so humorous.

              “Surely,” he said, his voice taking on a cold undercurrent, one that made everyone within Faerie shiver and fear his wrath, “you didn’t believe you belonged here.  You, who are so clearly inhuman?  I had thought you an intelligent woman after observing you this past week.  Perhaps I was mistaken.”

              Caroline was still chuckling, even hiccupping a little, but her laughter had calmed somewhat as she wiped tears from her eyes, careful not to smear the kohl that she had lined them with.  She wore it daily, that dark kohl; in their Realm, such things were usually only worn for special occasions.  

              “I mean, no.  It’s pretty clear I’m not exactly normal by the standards of this place,” Caroline stated once she’d wiped the tears away.  “But why the hell would I go anywhere with you?  Much less to a place that didn’t want me.”

              “Didn’t want you?” Klaus asked, puzzled by this new roadblock in his way.  

              “I mean, obviously.  Liz and Bill believed I was theirs.  You’re telling me I’m a Fae.  I can put two and two together pretty easily, Klaus.”

              She sauntered out the door to the room, and Klaus had to follow her, feeling as though his world had tilted.  This wasn’t at all how this was supposed to go.  He had thought there might be some confusion, that would quickly give way to relief, when she realized she would get to leave this wretched place.  But instead of being adrift, Caroline seemed entirely too comfortable in this place, even with the knowledge that it wasn’t hers.  

              “And what is it that you’ve put together?”

              “I’m a Changeling.  A Faerie child left in place of a human one.  What happened?  Did my counterpart die, and now my birth parents want a replacement?” Her smile was nearly as sharp as Klaus’ own, her fangs bared in a way that made him feel near instant lust.

              There was nothing so attractive as a woman that knew how to use her fangs.  

              “Your parents were unable to conceive again after you,” Klaus said after a moment, still trailing after her.  She paused, her eyes glancing over a board that had papers attached to it, but he had the distinct feeling that she wasn’t really seeing what they said.  “Some say it was because the Gods turned their backs on them, for discarding their heir so easily.”

              “A bunch of superstitious religious quacks,” Caroline murmured darkly.  “Because that’s totally what I’m into.”

              “I doubt the Gods would bother themselves with such things,” Klaus continued, ignoring her mutters.  “More likely they were just unlikely.  But the human child, even if humans were allowed to inherit, is foolish and selfish.  She can’t rule her own emotions, much less a kingdom.”

              “Well,” Caroline tapped a finger on a paper, her expression contemplative.  Finally, she shrugged and turned to him with a bright smile.  “Sucks to be them.”

              Then she turned and all but bounced out the exit of the building.  Klaus remained in her wake, wondering if this was what it meant, to feel flabbergasted. It felt as thought someone had planted a fist in his stomach.  

              He rather didn’t like it.

              He stood there for what must have only been a handful of seconds before charging after her, determined to explain to her that this was her chance to return home.  To be welcomed into the loving arms of her family.  

(To win him a kingdom)

              Outside, there were several students walking along the sidewalks, but none of them was blonde, dressed in a cheerful dress.  

              He had lost her, and it made him snarl.  

              Then it made him smile.

              It had been… far too long, before he actually had to work to get what he wanted.  Perhaps it would be a novelty.

---

              She considered ditching Klaus in the Agricultural Science building to be a win.  Of course, she hadn’t expected it to last long, so when that persistent itch at the back of her neck began again in her Rhetorical Criticism course, she wasn’t really surprised.  

              What did surprise her was when Klaus slid into the seat next to her, lounging and looking around the room with distaste, as though he were some sort of prince.

              Perhaps he was.  Apparently that was a thing among the Faeries.

              “If you’re going to take up journalism, we should likely discuss internship options,” she murmured as she added a notation to her online notes.  “I’d rather you not try to compete with me for any.  Losing might destroy your ego.”

              “You underestimate the size of my ego, Love,” Klaus murmured in reply.  He glanced at her laptop screen, and sneered.  “The people of this realm are far too reliant on their technology.”

              “Parents that abandoned me and no wifi… wow, you’re doing such a good job of making me think I really want to be a Fae.”

              “You’re a Fae whether you live in Faerie or not. There you would simply be amongst your own kind.”

              Did he know? She had to wonder for a moment. Did he know about those nights, when she had cried into her pillow.  Before she had decided her fangs and sharp nails would become her armour.  Back when her parents’ distaste and her classmates’ fear made her desperate for just one person who understood her.  

              She had given up that dream so long ago, yet his words still managed to make something in her chest pang.  And it made her grit her teeth and flash a fang at him.

              “I prefer being one of a kind,” she said, expression sweet and completely fake.  “But please tell mommy and daddy that their little girl is doing well.”

              Klaus chuckled low, the sound making her shiver, just a bit.  Caroline had messed around with a few boys, in high school and in college.  The brave ones, who would dare her inhumanities because she was otherwise beautiful.  But none of them had made her shiver, or feel any real desire.  They had reeked of fear, and while the hunt could be fun, it tended to ruin bedroom games.

              But that chuckle made her shiver, and so did the finger he ran up her arm.  He didn’t have claws, and with his lips closed and his eyes blue again, he could almost pass for human.

              Except there was no fear.  There was only lust and the wild glint of a challenge accepted.

              “I’m not a messenger, Caroline.  I’m afraid if you wish your parents to receive that message, you’ll have to pass it on yourself.”

              Caroline paused in her typing, as though contemplating the thought.  Next to her, she felt Klaus’ gaze on her.  Disappointing him, she decided, was going to become a delight for her.  She gave him another bright grin and shrugged.

              “Then I guess they’ll never know.”

              He let out another low chuckle as Caroline turned back to her laptop, fingers flying across the keys. He leaned in close, and Caroline’s fingers stopped, and her breath caught in the back of her throat. He was far too close.

              He wasn’t nearly close enough.

              She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, gaze catching with his, and those dimples made another appearance.  A monster shouldn’t look so cute, yet somehow Klaus did.  

              Monstrously cute.

              “You’re a challenge, Caroline,” he murmured, her name rolling off his tongue.  She wondered if everyone in Faerie had an accent like his.  Would she have, if she hadn’t been abandoned in favor of that bright, but useless, human?  “I like a challenge.”

              It sounded like a warning.  

              But Caroline had always liked a challenge, too.

---

              She was clever, his little Fire Princess.  Clever and wicked and not at all afraid of him. That was a unique experience for Klaus. The King of Shadows was feared across Faerie.  Caroline’s own parents were terrified of him.  The little human that she had been exchanged for?  She couldn’t even speak to Klaus, much less meet his eyes.

              Yet Caroline grinned at him to show of sharp fang and refused to even hear him out.  Since he had started to claim whatever seat was next to her in her classes, she had even begun to type him sweet nothings on the screen on which she took notes.

              If I told you to go to hell, how long would it take you to get there?

              “I was under the impression I was already there,” Klaus muttered, because while Caroline might be charming, the rest of these humans weren’t.  One had tried to touch him, with what he supposed she had believed was a seductive smile.  She had been blond haired and blue eyed like Caroline… like the human that had replaced her.

              The scent of her fear had been thick when she had fled, when he had bared his fangs, let his eyes go amber.  

              “God, you are such a drama queen,” Caroline muttered in reply, erasing her comment and replacing it with whatever nonsense the man at the front of the room was lecturing about.  They all spoke too much, these people at the front of the room.  It irritated Klaus.  

              “I’m a drama king, if you must use a title,” Klaus replied, giving the slightest of sneers, which made Caroline’s lips quirk rather than making her fear.  

              He was… okay with that.  If she had been anyone else, he would have torn out their liver to make them see that he was a thing to be feared, not mocked.  Only Caroline was allowed such freedom.  It made her unique, even amongst the Fae.  

              “Really?” she had done such a good job of keeping any curiosity about Faerie under wraps that the glint of interest in her eye actually caught him by surprise.  “That’s the closest thing to something personal you’ve told me.”

              It was, Klaus realized with some surprise.  He didn’t tend to tell others anything about himself, if he could get away with it.  His siblings knew far too much, and liked to use it against him whenever they could, and at least they shared ties of blood with him.  Sharing with outsiders was dangerous.

              And it also might be the way to getting to Caroline. He could keep it surface level. Make her believe he was baring his soul, when really he was simply telling her what would be common fact about him.  

              “I got the throne by killing the man I had believed to be my father.  Everyone believed it because I am hungry for power; truly, I just didn’t want to fear him anymore.”

              Caroline blinked at him, her lips pursed in surprise.

              Klaus blinked back.

              Well… that wasn’t at all what he had meant to say.

---

              “Okay, so your mother had an affair with, like, a werewolf?”

              Caroline was perched on a bench next to Klaus, actually finding herself fascinated by the whole thing.  It was way more interesting when she was learning all the gossip about other people’s dramas.  Then it was just learning about Faerie, instead of hearing about the people that had decided she wouldn’t be nearly as fun as a random human kid.

              “A Moon Fae,” Klaus corrected.  

              “Yeah, but they can shape shift into wolves.  So werewolf.”

              Klaus rolled his eyes, but his lips kicked up, just a bit, at the edges, and Caroline grinned back widely.  She knew it left her fangs bared, and Klaus’ eyes darkened at the sight.  He reached out, and it should have been weird, to have someone stroke her tooth like that.  But it wasn’t.  

              Instead, it made her breath catch.  

              “What kind of Fae am I?” she found herself asking.

              Shit.  She didn’t want to ask that.  She didn’t want to know.  It didn’t matter.

              “A Fire Fae,” he said before she could take her words back. “A creature of heat and flame, who thrives in the sun and has an… admirable temper.”

              Caroline didn’t say anything.  Instead, she looked past his shoulder, trying not to listen. Not to think about parents that had left her with humans that had… stopped caring.  Because Caroline wasn’t what they wanted.  They wanted a human.  Just like her parents had wanted a human.  

              “Why do you even care?” she finally asked, looking at Klaus, who seemed to be the only one that actually wanted her, and even then, it wasn’t actually her.  It was the throne that should apparently be hers.  “If I’m here or there.  You said you’re a king, so my parents couldn’t have hired you.”

              Klaus considered her thoughtfully, twirling a twig he had picked up at some point between his fingers.  

              “I had intended to use you,” he said at last.  “To gain access to the powers of the Fire Fae. I would take you home, and you would be so thankful you would give me access to the sanctum of your kingdom, and I would take it for my own.”

              “What?  World domination?” she asked, giving a bitter chuckle.  “I guess I ruined all those plans.”

              “You did,” Klaus agreed, still twirling the twig. “Although I find myself surprisingly blasé about it.  You should know I’m rarely blasé about anything.  My siblings wouldn’t recognize me.”

              “You mean the crazy, murderous siblings you mentioned?” Caroline tugged her knees up to her chest, rested her chin on them.  “So, my parents don’t really care that you’re here?”

              “They need you,” Klaus replied after a beat.  “They’d send someone.”

              Eventually went unsaid, because they hadn’t, not yet. Or maybe they had, and that someone wasn’t as good at finding her as Klaus.  

              “You should go home,” Caroline said at last, dropping her legs and getting to her feet.  “Return to your kingdom.  I can’t give you that power, because I don’t want to go there.” They don’t want me? Well I don’t want them.  “I’m happy here.”

              A lie, bitter on her tongue.  At least those old stories weren’t true, the ones that said Fae had to be honest.  Caroline’s life would suck if that were the case.  She made it through far too many days by lying to herself.

              “No,” Klaus said.  “You’re not.”

              Caroline shrugged uneasily, and began to walk away. Then, her hand was in his, and he was twirling her around, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into his chest.  Her hands rested against it – warm and solid beneath her hands – and she stared up at him in surprise.  

              “Marry me.”

---

              “Marry me.”

              Saying things he hadn’t intended to seemed to be becoming a habit around the Lady Caroline.  But though it had been a sudden demand, Klaus realized he didn’t regret it.

              Some events were meant to be.  Fae were raised on fate and destiny, and Klaus was no different. And he fully believed he and Caroline were destiny.  It would gain him the power of the Fire Fae, but more importantly?

              It would gain him that clever, clever mind as his partner.

              “You’re insane,” Caroline said after a beat of silence. “We don’t know each other.  I don’t even want to go to Faerie.”

              “No,” Klaus corrected, “you don’t want to go to being that don’t want you.  That’s not what you would be doing.  I want you. And I want to tear power from your parents’ hands, and take it for our own. Don’t you want the same?”

              “No,” Caroline denied immediately, but he knew it was a lie.  She knew it was a lie, too, and her gaze didn’t meet his.

              “Really?” Klaus purred, leaning down towards her. She looked up at him, and he brushed his lips over her own.  Once, twice, thrice.  And then he kept a careful distance between them.

              Her move.

              “No,” she said again, and he wasn’t sure if it was an answer, or a repeat of her previous denial.  But she followed his lips, claiming them for her own.

              Claiming him for her own.  

              “No?” he asked when they finally broke apart.   She pulled him in for another kiss, fierce and hungry and commanding.

              Only by Caroline, would Klaus allow himself to be commanded.  

              “Yes,” she said this time, when they broke apart. And at first, Klaus dazed and confused, and didn’t quite understand.  But then he met her gaze, which was fierce and direct.

              “Yes?”

              “Yes,” she said again, with a sharp nod, and yes, he knew they were fated.  Because he could hear the rest of her words.

              Yes, I will marry you.

              Yes, I will take power away from my parents.

              He kissed her again, already plotting the wedding they would have, once they destroyed the entirety of the Fire Court.

[brideylee]

Anti- Fan Fiction: James Woods and Robert Blake at Dan Tana’s

           The air inside is hot, full of dust, and too many rotting mouths had ordered the lasagna. James Woods sits in his corner booth at Dan Tana’s in the main room with his eyes on the bar full of shouting men in suits. Some are West Hollywood slick fratties  and others more smelly and introspective in itchy tweed from the land of 70s character actor city. Squeezed in between these men taking up more space than needed with either their narcissistic sadness or their loud, cologned  bravado are some young women desperately trying to enjoy a martini at the historic restaurant, but instead are resigned to hear a bald someones life story and feeling many passing hands needlessly touch their bare backs as men hover and spill around them.

          Woods watches disgustedly, he watches everything disgustedly: babies being born, the sunrise, an elderly woman saying “Hello, Deary”. It all makes him sick. His belly protrudes forward as he holds back a sudden burp and he releases some air through his famously skeezy lips as though exhaling cigarette smoke. He is repulsively sexy in his stony confidence. He checks his watch and decides to complain about something. Dead eyed with his arm stretched out, he points at a maitre de who is pushing 90 and is only meant to be looked at by tourists as a part of the ambiance. The command of Woods pointing hypnotizes the ancient man and he walks over in submission thinking this could hopefully be death itself beckoning him home. 

            Woods gives him his iconic half smile, where one side of his mouth stays in place while the other curls up his cheek as though being lifted by a fish hook, his head tips forward and his round dark eyes look up at him like an alcoholic father who “doesn’t want to have to discipline.” “Hey sarge, the bread is a little chewy, mind popping it in the microwave or something. I could break my teeth on it. And heat the butter up. It’s fresh, its just not soft.” Woods gets bored with himself half way through his criticism and winks at a woman at the bar whose glance regrettably fell on him. The maitre de with no capacity left to hear, nods and takes the bread away, disappointed to still be breathing. 

Woods spots Tim Allen alone in a four person booth holding up a plate to his face, licking it feverishly. They lock eyes and give each other big, knowing smirks, like two people who both know where the body is.  Allen gleefully goes back to lapping up the rest of the marinara, grease all over his chin, his napkin bib coming into good use. “Funniest man in America” Woods thinks to himself before being distracted by some plastic cleavage walking by.

           Suddenly, the air in the restaurant cools as the door wafts open and a small shadowy figure enters with the silhouette of a miniature cowboy.  “Finally.” James Woods says as Robert Blake plops down across from him “Are we angry?” Blake says defiantly with his headed tilted back, his lids hanging low and heavy across his beetle eyes. “There is this thing called time, Robert. I’ve been waiting here an hour.” Blake laughs with a childish grin crossing his face, and somehow in the smooth red lighting of Tana's, he looks twenty years younger, though still disturbingly gaunt, and getting more pale by the minute like a man whose only sustenance is the unease he inspires. He’s wearing a black velvet cowboy hat that looks too big for him, making him along with his small stature appear like an elderly child. “Time!” Blake regales with impish laughter as though hearing an old joke he hasn’t heard out loud in years. Woods stews, his eye twitches and he chews on the inside of his mouth.  Blake’s laugher continues, even Tim Allen interrupts his slurping to peak at where this sinister chortling is coming from. 

              After a few minutes, Blake calms down and stares at Woods lovingly. “You were always funnier than me, Woods. Never give that up, you can fall back on it.” Blake was full of these little jabs, always insinuating that Woods acting career never amounted to anything. Rehearsing a hurtful father son dynamic was one of the only ways these men could show their love. “How’s the old lady?” Blake is referring to Woods’ twenty-two year old girlfriend. “Driving me nuts,” says Woods gazing off, then he leans in towards Robert. “In all the right ways.” He winks at Robert. “Pet a pussy cat on the head too much, and they go bald.” Blake warns. Woods blinks, confused. He had a love-hate relationship with Blakes morsels of wisdom. On one hand it’s why he enjoyed his company so much, on the other hand, Blake had a way of making him question everything, particularly Blake’s sanity.  Woods decides to change the subject. 

“Some shrimp cocktail I ordered us an hour ago. They might be too dead to eat.” He slides an ornate glass rimmed with withered shrimp in front of Blake. All the ice inside the glass is melted and the shrimp look like they know how pathetic their fate is. Blake knocks all the shrimp off the edge of the glass towards the center and gulps them down like he’s taking a shot of vodka before going bear hunting. 

“So, what do you make of this 'Covid 19'” Woods puts Covid 19 in air quotes and his head bobbles with cocky indifference. “It’ll go away.” Blake states between sips of the shrimp water. “Everything goes away, James.” Blake studies the menu. “Not quite Vitello's…” James didn’t want to get into a Dan Tana's versus Vitellos fight tonight. For one, Blake hadn’t been there in decades since he took his wife there before having her killed and more than that Blake was just biased because Dan Tana's never named a pasta after him. Woods lets it slide, he understands the irrelevancy Blake feels to the modern world and the pain of being pushed farther and father back inside Hollywoods skeleton closet. 

         Yet, although Woods sees Blake as an oracle, his secret virus fears remain. There is a social distancing trend hyped in the media and a possible impending lock down for Los Angeles; a city full of the most insecure egos on the planet. A city that needed to love, use, and discard people so regularly that the notion of a lockdown seemed to go against its code of conduct. Furthermore,  Woods cant stand being in his house with his girlfriend for more than three hours, two if there was no oral sex involved, but even worse is the idea of being alone.

His anxiety is spiking as Blake with half glasses on seemed completely engrossed in the menu, ignoring him just like his old man. Woods dips into the pocket of his blazer and dabs his pinkie into a tiny bag of coke, neatly putting it away and rubbing the gums of his front teeth expertly discreet. Blake raises his eye brows. “They’ve got a chicken named after Sidney Beckerman. Did you know him?” Woods shakes his head, and gestures to a waiter to bring more water with an agro snottiness only he could pull off. “He produced Kelly’s Heroes. Good guy, but I never liked him.” Blake starts singing “Que Sera Sera” by Doris Day under his breath, while perusing the menu like it’s a gun catalogue.

Woods patience runs out, he blows a  long grey hair out of his eyes and grabs the menu from Blake. He smacks a passing waiter on the back with the menu. “We’re  gonna split a plain cheese pizza with a side of spaghetti, and two Roy Rogers. And lots of grenadine for this one right here.” Blake smiles like a school boy brat, pleased.

            “So listen, have you been following it at all?” “Following what?” Blake says with a gentle, Warhol deadpan. “The virus horse shit… Robert, they’re saying that we all need to go into isolation. That it’s airborne.” Blake whips the red napkin into his lap. “Get a hold of yourself. Will you? Fear is airborne. Do you know how many motherfuckers, here, still believe in Lincoln?” Blakes shifts were dramatic. Sometimes, he felt like you were talking to a screwy relative of Yoda and other times he had the grit of a  dried up cowboy that had made love with Joe Pesci. 

“FUCK YOU! NO!” The volume of Tim Allen shouting into his Motorolla razor silenced the place for a good twenty-seconds.  “500 million dollars in CASH or you can take your Santa Clause 6 and…make Santa Clause piss!!” The manager started a clap to diffuse any tension. After a smattering of applause, the place went back to normal. “Can I get a big brownie?” Tim Allen screams towards the kitchen like a kid at his grandparents house.

         Their Roy Rogers are placed on the table. Woods is sweating as the coke is hitting, and he can feel his phone vibrate with texts from his often pilled out girlfriend. Texts like “Can you remind me where the refrigerator is?”

  Blake raises his glass, admiring the red flesh of the maraschino cherry and the slow dance of the grenadine syrup descending towards the bottom, surrendering to him like a wounded lover. “Cheers! May we remember to lock the doors and make the baby swallow the key.” They clink glasses. Blake does a long exaggerated gasp of refreshment, his tongue  wagging out of his mouth for a long time. 

            “Woods, what do you think it was that got in the way of your success?” Triggered and high, Woods replies, coke speed with spit collecting at the corners of his mouth.  “Well, I think it was a lot of things. Particularly, that I am a man who values his freedom of speech and I don’t like my rights trampled on by so called “progressives” and  you know I thought I was pretty good in Ray Donovan, but I really wasn’t given much of a script, but, ah, fuck.” He wipes his forehead and collects himself. “Blake. I have a serious question.” They stare at each other. Blake has a gravelly distance between his soul and his eyes, but something in Woods reaches him. Their cheese pizza and spaghetti ruptures the eye contact, but Woods can’t give up.

“Say there is a lock down, and this virus is serious. I can’t be alone with the kiddo for that long, you know what I mean? I need a friend. Someone I can pal around with. Someone that gets it. Man to man. Blake, do you think we can live together? Either at the Ranch in Burbank or my place, wherever you feel the most like you can be you.” Woods heart is racing, this is the most vulnerable he’s felt since since the scene in The Virgin Suicides after his daughters die. 

         Blake stares at him coldly and takes a bite of pizza. “This virus frightens you.” Woods frustratedly digs into the pizza, his heart; a little more vacant, and confused. “Don’t worry.” Blake reaches into his pocket and takes out a vile of clear liquid and places it next to the spaghetti. “I got a cure for that.” Woods examines it. “Is this-“ “A vaccine” Blake says satisfied. “One sip and everything goes away.” 

       “CHANGE OF PANTS? PLEASE, CAN I GET A CHANGE OF PANTS” Tim Allen roars with a lap full of chocolate brownie. His face and khaki pants are covered in chocolate.  But Woods stays transfixed on the vile. “Where the hell did you?…” “We had to make vaccines during breaks on Little Rascals. Bastards always put us to work any way they could. Learned a thing or two though and this one is special… everything goes away. “Have you used it?” Woods asks, his head cocked to the side, watching the liquid float like the clear lip gloss his girlfriend….Kelly? Katy? wears.  “Used it plenty of times. Plenty of times.” Says Blake with the resigned faith of a Southern preacher.

          “Well, even so, if there’s a lock down, can I bunk with you? Forgive me, you’re single now, right?” “I’m dating,  but nothing to write home about," the eighty-six year old answers. Woods looks up from the vile, expectantly. “Listen, kid. My space is sacred. It’s between me and God. I don’t know if you think I can get you a bit part in something or…” “No, I just would like your company that’s all.” Woods assures him. “A man who can’t sleep alone, sleeps while awake. Take the vaccine. You’ll be free.” Woods leans back. Blake  always cuts him open and leaves him smelling like the chicken broth that seemed to emanate from Blakes pores. But that’s often the medicine Woods needs. He uncorks the vile, holds it up dramatically,“Salud!”

            Allen is standing in his boxers by his booth with his arms crossed waiting for the waiters to bring him pants while Woods finishes the last drop. The blood red walls moist from poor insulation seem to pulse around Woods as Blake stares at him. “Hows it feel?” “Like…uh..like nothing. I mean… like it was water, a placebo?” Blake giggles shaking his head. 

           Pants-less Tim Allen walks over to their table. “Hey Robert! I haven’t seen you in ages!” They high five. “You know me, keepin’ busy back at home.” Allen turns to Woods, “How ya doing, bud?” and then turn backs to Blake. “You know you’d be perfect for the next Santa Clause movie. You haven’t been in any of them yet, right? “Not yet!” “Well, right on,Cowboy!” Allen and Blake high five again. Woods gets dizzy and starts blinking slowly trying to steady himself. Perhaps taking a vaccine manufactured by Robert Blake was not smart, he didn’t know for sure. He barely knew anything. “Woods, isn’t it time we scroll through our imdb pages?” Blake baits him with their tradition. Woods nods and types his name into his phone. “I love this game! Can I play?” Tim sits down. 

           Woods can’t focus his eyes very well, but he has typed his name into imdb four times and nothing is coming up. Tim Allen can’t help  himself “Ok, so this is a show I was on where I played like a handy man…” His mouth hangs open as he excitedly awaits  the men to guess what show. “Garfield.” answers Blake without sarcasm. “It’s not working….” Woods interrupts. “Whats with your friend?” Tim Allen asks annoyed. Blakes eyes don’t leave Woods who is squinting at his phone. “Ok, I’m a dad and a handyman…” “My credits are all gone.” James’s voice seems to morph an octave lower the walls seem to run into the leather booths and booths seem to melt  into the floors and drip into the basement where a drunk couple are fucking among cans of tomato sauce.

Woods psyche seeps further into the earths crust, mantle and then core where he watches his entire identity burned in the furnace of mother earths blazing kiln. Alone with himself. To Allen and Blake, his body sitting at the booth looks like a prosthetic suite empty of an actor inside. “The vaccine works.” Blake thinks to himself sipping his pink drink through a straw. Allen whips his head from Woods to Blake and in his classic broad Tim Allen way says “Uhh, am I missing something???”

[icariamusing]

CHARACTER BASICS

FACECLAIM: Katie Cassidy

NAME: Vivienne Holt

AGE: 33

BIRTHDAY: October 18th, 1987

OCCUPATION: Family/ Emergency Medicine Doctor at Icaria Hospital

HOMETOWN: Charleston, South Carolina

PETS: A fluffy black cat named Felix.

POWERS

Supernatural Voice (Manipulation, Sonic scream ect.) & Psychokinesis. (Lesser ability: Enhanced Intelligence/ w/ Medicine)

BIOGRAPHY

Donovan Holt was never one to settle down, which is why he chose the fast-paced life of the medical field. This led him to Doctors Without Borders, a profession allowing him to travel constantly and help save lives in the process. That is, until one day while he was working in a small village in South America  he met one of the locals, one of the most striking women he’d ever laid eyes on. She was stunning in every sense of the word, and her intelligence only baffled him further. The two became instantly close during his time in the village, so much so that their relationship became romantic. Donovan spent 6 months in that village, and everyday of knowing the woman that went by Jane were some of the happiest of his life. The day that he was assigned to leave instantly filled him with grief. The two ended things mutually, but Donovan couldn’t shake the feeling of regret. It wasn’t until a few months later, while he was home visiting his family before his next assignment that he received a gift, the most important gift he’d ever receive. There, in a vine-weaved basket on his doorstep was a child, and a note which read, “She deserves a life I cannot give her, and the love I know you can -J.” Donovan was stunned, and ultimately baffled at the child he now held in his arm, and later he would feel eternally grateful.

Now a father, Donovan quit his position with DWB and took a posting at one of the local hospitals in the area where he had grown up, Charleston, South Carolina, to raise his new daughter. Vivienne grew up with a big family, one that cared for her unconditionally, although they always did have reservations about the nature of her birth. It was just her and her father outside of her extended family for most of Vivienne’s childhood, until he eventually remarried, and gained a step-mother, and eventually a baby brother. Vivienne never hated her step-mother, as many tend to do in the fairy-tales, but she just never felt a connection to her. She always felt closer to her grandmother and father than anyone else.

From an early age she was quickly recognized for her intelligence and curiosity. She was always fascinated with how things worked, learning something new, and assisting others. Her father attributed those traits to her mother, but little did he know that they were more than just traits, but gifts. For most of her life Vivienne was unaware of her lineage, or who her mother truly was, and that’s exactly how Athena wanted it. She wanted her daughter to have a normal life, and to grow into her gifts without Athena’s intervention or intrusion. Vivienne excelled at many things that she put her mind to, and later decided to follow into her father’s footsteps of medicine.

It wasn’t until Vivienne had just began her college years when her gifts really began to take off. As she came into her gifts, her curious nature embraced them, doing all that she could to explore all the new possibilities. It wasn’t until Vivienne and her college boyfriend, Charlie, were in a car accident, one that she shouldn’t have survived, where things took a turn for the worst. People began to question how Vivienne walked away from such a terrible accident, and she herself began to feel the guilt gnawing at her. Eventually this lead her down a dark path, one that nearly had a tragic end until the intervention of her mother. This was the night Vivienne was finally introduced to her biological mother, the Greek goddess Athena.

From this visit Vivienne began to understand who she truly was, and as if the final pieces were falling into place. Once Vivienne had time to process, she tried to form a relationship with her mother, trying to learn everything she could about who she was and what this meant for Vivienne. This, however, was short-lived, and her visits became shorter and less-frequent until Vivienne barely ever heard from her mother. A small part of her felt as though she had been abandoned again, until one day, years later when her mother  told her about a safe-haven for her kind. This is what brought Vivienne to Icaria, to be with those who would understand what it’s like to be a demi-god, and to hopefully be closer to her mother once again.

Vivienne has now been on the island for close to a year which has brought many trials and surprises along the way. As she began settling into her new home, making new friends and catching up with old, she began to really enjoy the life she now lived. This included learning of her godly siblings and growing into who she was truly meant to be. This also brought along many ghosts from her past including her first love, a dangerous old flame, and someone she never thought she’d see again- who is now the man of her dreams.

JESS | She/Her | 24 | CENTRAL

[kasdeyathebitterwoman]

A Ninja Warrior Love Story - Part 7

You guys, we’re already on part 7. I’m so glad you all are enjoying this series! Be on the lookout for a Henry Cavill drabbled (or two) pretty soon! Also, let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list or send me an ask! 

taglist:

@maeleeme @andyrazzledazzle

CW: confrontation, crying, flashbacks, shaving

Word Count: 2,437

Wednesday morning, Lily woke up with a vulnerability hangover from hell. After her conversation with Mar, she turned her phone off and cried for the rest of the night. She knew in her heart that Mar was right, but it still was painful to hear. Lily hated that she couldn’t be angry at anyone but herself.

Rolling out of bed, Lily got dressed in a fog and left for the gym. She felt like she’d been hit by a truck, but she was hoping she’d be able to hide it. She pulled up to the gym to find no one there. Sighing with relief, she hopped out of her truck and trudged into the facility. Inside, she dropped her things off in the locker rooms. Coming out, she found Henry and Kal walking in. A pit formed in her stomach when he noticed her, smiled and began walking towards her.

“Good morning, Lily,” he called out behind Kal, who was already by her feet. “You went radio silent last night and I was worried I wouldn’t get to see you today,” his smile faded when he got closer to her. “Lily,” he started, alarm in his voice. “Have you been crying?” Lily shook her head no, but when she spoke, she gave herself away.

“No, I,” her voice was groggy, filled with excessive tears and lack of sleep. Henry’s brow furrowed deeply as he stared at her.

“Did something happen yesterday?” he asked. Lily could feel more tears pushing at the back of her eyes. She looked to the ceiling and sniffed, hoping to hold it all back.

“No, I mean, yes, it just,” she stumbled over her words. “Going to see my dad is always hard,” she said. “And then I haven’t been sleeping because I’m having nightmares, so I’m just. I’m tired,” she finally said. She couldn’t look directly at Henry because if she did, she knew the tears would come pouring out. She couldn’t stand to see the pity in his eyes at her sob story. Gently, he reached his hand out and took hers. Lily looked down at her hand in his. It filled her with so many emotions, they all bubbled up to the surface and she couldn’t contain them. Pulling her hand away, she apologized, turned, and ran for the locker room.

“Lily,” Henry called out after her, but she didn’t stop. In the locker rooms, she pushed her sobs down and best as she could. Shaking, she stood at one of the sinks and mirrors and did her best to compose herself. After a few moments, Megan entered the locker rooms.

“Lily,” she called out. “Don sent me in to check on you,” she stopped when she saw her. Lily glanced over at her.

“Hey Rapunzel,” Lily said sardonically. Megan stood there, her brow furrowed. “Just tell Don I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Megan, still looking very concerned, nodded and began to turn to leave, but she stopped suddenly.

“I’ve always admired you, Lily,” Megan started. “You’re so strong. I know what you’ve been through - I heard what your dad did. I think it’s incredible how you didn’t let that stop you. Whatever you’re going through, you’re strong enough to deal with it,” and with that, she left. Lily stared at herself in the mirror. Puffy eyes, blotchy skin, and tear marks streaming down her face. She chuckled a little thinking there was no way Henry would think she was beautiful.

Washing her face and taking a deep breath in, Lily decided it was time to head back out to the floor. Staying near the locker rooms, Lily took a survey of what was going on. Tom, Henry, Don, and The Dude were at the rock wall going over, what she assumed, was grip strength and technique. Megan was at the free-weights doing her own thing and Kal was lurking near Henry. Kal spotted her and immediately trotted over to her. He sat at her feet and leaned gently into her leg as if to comfort her. She smiled and gave him head scratches. Moments later, Henry was there.

“Lily,” he started. Lily looked up at him. Concern was written all over his face. “Are you okay?” he asked. Lily nodded.

“I’ll be okay,” she said and meant it. Gently, Henry reached out again, but instead of taking her hand, he cupped the side of her face. It was so sweet and kind, Lily closed her eyes and slightly pressed her cheek into his hand. For a brief moment, she felt relaxed. She didn’t want the moment to end, but it did.

“Lily,” Donovan called out as he trotted over to her and Henry. As inconspicuously as possible, Henry dropped his hand. Lily did her best to not look guilty. “Lily, hey, are you going to be okay to train today?” he asked, not acknowledging or noticing the moment between Lily and Henry.

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Lily replied. Don nodded and told them to get over to the wall so they could all get started. Henry smiled gently at Lily and she smiled back. Together, with Kal in close pursuit, they walked over to the rock wall. Donovan explained the importance of grip strength and how rock climbing helped build that up. Lily was tasked with demonstrating certain moves that would help with grip, flow, and overall movement. Despite how she felt, Lily executed some of her best attempts. Overall, Tom was very impressed with her abilities.

“Lily,” he said when she dropped down from the wall. “Do you have any experience with stunt work?” he asked. Surprised, Lily raised her eyebrows and shook her head no.

“Uh no,” she started. “I was an English major in college and I ran track in high school.” Tom was surprised by this.

“Really?” he asked. “You definitely seem like someone that would do well in stunt work. You too, Don. I want to talk to the both of you later about some stunt work for this project Henry and I are working on.” he left it at that when they agreed to speak, then got started on his own attempt at the rock wall. Don and Lily stared at each other, shocked and excited. Lily looked at Henry who was beaming at her.

“Did that really just happen?” she asked him. He smiled wider and nodded.

“Yes, it did,” he replied. Lily suddenly felt very awake and very alive.

—

During a lull at the barbershop, Lily sat at her station and checked her phone. She had a missed message from Henry.

I didn’t get a chance to say it, but, congrats beautiful. Not just anyone gets offered an opportunity by Tom Cruise himself. You really are quite special. I think this deserves a proper date night to celebrate. Lily smiled at his text, feeling very special indeed. She replied.

I agree, but you need a shave first, mister

While she waited for his reply, Lily checked her shaving kit. In it she had her three straight blades, a natural bristle brush for applying shave cream, and a strop to correct the blade. Ray had recently had her blades taken in to be sharpened, so they were good to go when she needed them. Her phone buzzed, so she checked it.

I was REALLY hoping you’d forgotten about that. Lily laughed out loud, then looked around the shop.

“Sorry,” she called out to a room of muttering men. Lily grinned as she replied to Henry.

I have not once stopped thinking about getting to shave your face since I won that bet. Come by the shop tomorrow around 11. I’ll have a spot available for you. She hit send, then walked over to the front counter where the schedule was. On Thursday, she had open availability most of the day, so at the 11 am mark, she wrote in Henry’s name and her initials.

Back at her station, she checked her phone.

Fine, but tomorrow night then I get to take you out on a proper date. Lily smiled.

Deal. She replied before suddenly realizing she wasn’t sure she had anything to wear.

—

The bell on the front door jingled announcing Henry’s arrival. Lily looked up from her station to see Henry standing there looking slightly worried. She smiled and walked to him.

“Don’t look so nervous,” she said as she got closer. Henry smirked.

“I could never be nervous at the prospect of you touching me,” he replied. “Even if you will be holding a blade to my throat.” Lily rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Come on,” She gestured to her station and walked back with Henry following in close pursuit.

“Good morning, young man,” Ray called out from his station where he was trimming Mr. Ortega’s hair. Henry smiled.

“Good morning, sir,” Henry replied, smiling a little at Ray. Ray moved his gaze from him to Lily.

“What brings you in?” he asked, returning his gaze to Henry.

“I’m going to give him a shave, Ray,” Lily replied, giving him a stern look. Ray looked at her, grunted a little, then went back to his own customer. Lily gently rolled her eyes, then gestured for Henry to sit down. He did and Lily took stock of the situation. She examined his face, turning his head gently from one side to the other. “Alright, give me one minute. I need to grab some things from the back,” she said. Henry nodded in understanding.

In the back, Lily grabbed a few clean towels, a cup of water, a bowl, and a hot towel from the steamer. She balanced all of this in her arms as she walked back to her station. Henry watched her with great interest before asking,

“How did you get into this?” Lily smirked at him through the reflection in the mirror.

“I was really into Sweeney Todd as a kid,” she replied and laughed as Henry, at first, was horrified, then laughed when he realized she was joking. “No, my dad taught me and then Ray had me trained so I could work here,” she said. Henry bobbed his head.

“Tell me about your dad,” he said. Lily froze.

“Well there’s not much to tell really,” she said, her mouth getting dry. “Besides, you need to go under.” Henry looked at her confused. “Under the towel,” she said, grabbing the hot cloth. Pushing the chair back so Henry was lounging comfortably, Lily began to wrap the towel around his face. “Let me know if this is too hot or if you need anything,” she tapped his hand resting on his abdomen. “Just raise your hand, I won’t be too far away,” Henry muttered something she assumed was agreement from under the towel.

While he was steaming, Lily prepped her materials. She started with the shaving cream. Mixing equal parts water and cream so it created a frothy mix, perfect for shaving. Done with that, she pulled out a blade and the strop from her kit. Attaching the strop to the hook near her station, she began running the blade over the leather to correct it and make it ready for use. When all of that was done, she checked on Henry. He hadn’t moved since she put him under, so she hoped he was okay.

Placing a hand gently on the towel, she decided he was ready to go. First, she grabbed one of the clean towels and placed it across his chest. Then she unrolled the hot towel from around his face and used it to gently wipe the skin down.

“You okay?” she asked gently. Henry nodded, clearly relaxed. She smiled and grabbed the shaving cream. As she applied it, Henry stirred.

“That’s cold,” he muttered, as she swiped cream across his upper lip. She hushed him then continued applying everything to his cheeks, jaw, and neck. When she was satisfied with the application, she set the bowl down and grabbed her straight razor. Starting on his neck, she meticulously pulled the blade in fluid, upward motions. When she got to the right side of his jaw, she gently moved his head to the left so she’d have a better angle. Again, with fluid motions, she pulled the blade across his skin, removing the hair. After each pass, she wiped the blade on the towel across his chest. Henry’s breathing was steady and occasionally she could feel his heartbeat and it sent off fireworks in Lily. She watched as he relaxed into her hands and let her have complete control of the situation.

Finally, when she was done, she used the hot towel that she’d initially wrapped around his face to remove any leftover shaving cream. Satisfied, she removed the towels and grabbed the bottle of aftershave. With a small handful of the liquid, she turned back to Henry and began massaging it into his jaw and neck. He smiled a little, making it difficult for her to keep working.

“What?” she whispered. With his eyes still closed, Henry replied.

“I’ve been waiting patiently for your touch and you literally can’t go any further than my neck,” he said quietly. Lily snorted and giggled a little, making Henry smile harder. Finally done, Lily sat Henry up so he could get a good look at himself.

“Holy shi-,” Henry started, leaning forward in the chair to look at his face closer. He ran his hand over his cheeks and jaw repeatedly. “This looks like when they CGI’d my mustache off during the Batman reshoots,” he said, laughing. Lily chuckled a little and watched him enjoy the finished result.

As soon as he was ready, they walked to the front counter to ring him up.

“How much do I owe you, Lily?” Henry asked. Lily shook her head.

“No, Henry,” she started. “Don’t worry about it.” Henry looked back at her with determination. From the back of the shop, Ray called out.

“Shave is $30, plus tax and tip,” Lily dropped her shoulders and looked over at him. Ray knew he was in trouble, so he didn’t look at Lily, but stayed focused on his crossword puzzle. Henry smiled.

“Thank you, Ray,” he said, pulling out his wallet. Lily sighed heavy as Henry handed her a $100.

“Henry,” she said quietly, her eyes pleading for him to take it back. Henry reached out, grabbed her hand and placed the bill in her hand. Then he leaned forward and said only to her,

“If you do something well, don’t do it for nothing,” then he winked and said, “I’ll pick you up at 6:30,” 

[four-loose-screws]

FE4 Suzuki Novelization Translation - Chapter 8 Part 4

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations - Ko-fi

———————————

Chapter 8 - The Birth of the Second Generation

Part 4

All text is under the cut for spoilers.

Once her unit killed the last member of Mahnya's unit, Pamela landed by Andorey's side.

"So, what did you think? Silesse's pegasus knights are nothing compared to the might of the Beige Ritter! Just as I told you!"

"They certainly aren't…"

"I will continue traveling to Silesse Castle to seize it. And you can cross the mountains, and seize Torve Castle. Does that sound like a good plan?" Andorey suggested.

However, Dakkar had ordered Pamela to conquer Silesse Castle. "My unit is supposed to attack Silesse as well…"

"No, conquering Silesse was the role given to me. So my unit will do it alone. Got it?"

The way Pamela saw it, the reinforcements from the Grannvalian Beige Ritter had been the unit to defeat Mahnya's unit. But she also sensed strong conviction in Andorey's words.

'To say that so confidently, Dakkar must have made an agreement with him. And it is true that we must take Torve, however we do it. By the time my unit would reach the castle, Sigurd's army would be traveling to Silesse to provide reinforcements there, leaving Torve mostly unguarded.’

"Understood." Pamela answered, and told her pegasus knights they would head towards Torve Castle to conquer it.

Andorey watched Pamela's unit take off, then ordered the Beige Ritter to march to Silesse Castle.

When Rahna learned of Mahnya's total defeat, she was overcome by grief, but acted quickly.

First, she called in the commander of the remaining soldiers, and declared Silesse an open city.

"With Mahnya's unit gone, we have no reason to resist here any further. I don't want your nor the citizen's lives to be lost in a hopeless battle. You are to take all the soldiers here, flee the castle immediately, and go to Sailane Castle. There, you will join Prince Sigurd's army. If possible, I'd like for you to return and retake this castle with Prince Sigurd, but you are not to decide what you do. Leave all the decision-making to them. If you understand, then leave at once!"

"But what about you, Queen Rahna…?"

"I will stay here. It is my duty as lady of this castle."

"But…"

"This is an order from your queen! Go quickly! You are wasting time!"

"Yes, Your Majesty. ...We will pray for your safety."

The commander left, then Rahna gathered together the soldiers to relay the same message to them.

"Your duty is to inform the citizens that Silesse has been declared an open city. Those who wish to evacuate, you may do so immediately after informing the citizens. Those who wish to stay should prepare for pillaging by hiding their valuables. Any court ladies who wish to remain here, please clean the castle."

"Queen Rahna, what shall we do about the valuables inside the castle?"

"Leave them where they are. I don't mind where you hide your own valuables, even if it's in a place you normally shouldn't. Now, please hurry! Oh, and someone stand guard atop the castle wall, and tell me when the enemy is near."

-

Rahna received the message late that afternoon that a calvary unit was approaching.

She opened the castle gate, placed the key on an ornate pillow, and waited for the enemy to arrive.

She walked up to who appeared to be the leader, and bowed.

"I am Queen Rahna of Silesse. I will not resist, and give this castle to you." She said, then stepped forward and handed him the key to the castle gate.

Andorey took the key and dismounted his horse. "A wise decision, Queen Rahna. In that case, I will be spending the night here.”

"Only the night?"

"Yes. My orders were to capture Silesse Castle, not occupy it. So tomorrow, I will leave this castle and return home. This key is proof that I fulfilled my duty."

“Do as you please. Now then, I shall show you around the castle.”

Andorey had received Reptor’s orders orally, so he’d repeated them over and over again to etch them word-for-word in his mind.

“Go to Zaxon Castle, work together with Duke Dakkar, and conquer Silesse Castle.”

But in reality, Reptor had not meant for his words to be taken that literally. Capturing the castle would of course mean occupying it, and if he were to fully work together with Duke Dakkar, it could very well end up meaning that he would march to Sailane, if the circumstances called for it.

However, the cowardly Andorey had interpreted the words in the most narrow sense possible.

‘I went to Zaxon Castle, worked together with Duke Dakkar to wipe out the entire enemy pegasus knight unit, and captured Silesse. There’s nothing more to be done! I’ve completed my orders perfectly! With this, there’s no chance I could disappoint Reptor. This is my first responsibility, so I must follow it word-for-word.’

With that, he fully enjoyed the Silessians’ hospitality, then left for home with the Beige Ritter the next afternoon.

-

Pamela’s pegasus knight unit neared Torve Castle.

There were no enemies in sight.

‘I knew it! The castle is empty!’ Feeling confidence in their safety, she flew in closer.

Suddenly, a large group of archers appeared atop the castle wall.

‘Dammit!’ She saw them all too late.

Brigid shot an arrow with Yewfelle, and pierced through Pamela’s chest.

‘I-Impossible… How could I be taken down… with one arrow…’

And so, Pamela’s unit suffered the same fate as Mahnya’s.

The Silessian pegasus knights were trained not to retreat unless their commander ordered them to, so Pamela’s unit continued their futile attempt at resistance until none of them were left.

If, and only if, Pamela’s unit and the Beige Ritter had crossed Silesse River together, they would have had a chance at conquering Sailane Castle. However, Andorey’s cowardice had ruined the chances of that happening. So Sigurd’s army was able to hold down Sailane without suffering any damage, and the fleeing citizens all made it to safety.

-

While that was happening, Dakkar panicked and deployed General Donovan’s unit to occupy Silesse Castle, but it was already too late.

Sigurd’s army pushed on without even stopping to rest, and crossed Silesse River all at once to retake Silesse Castle.

Their morale was as high as could be, as they felt they must save Queen Rahna, who had saved them.

Donovan’s axe fighters and wind mages were powerful foes, but no match for Sigurd’s experienced army that was traversing the country like a wildfire.

In a fight that lasted just three hours, they retook Silesse Castle.

Sigurd killed Donovan, then was the first to rush to Queen Rahna’s side.

“Are you okay, Queen Rahna? I’m sorry we’re so late.”

“No, Prince Sigurd, you did well. You have no reason to have any regrets. It was my helplessness that got so many people killed. Losing Mahnya was especially difficult…”

“No way… Lady Mahnya was…?”

“Yes, she was lost. By Grannvale’s arch knights, I’ve been told...

“Queen Rahna, please don’t blame yourself. I will avenge her. But first, we must take care of Duke Dakkar. Please let us go to Zaxon.”

“Those of his men that occupied this castle killed many Silessian citizens, many of whom did not resist, even after I declared it an open city. That man is a murderer. Of course I would want him to pay for his crimes!”

“Understood. Then we will leave to attack Zaxon at once! Stay calm and wait here. Prince Lewyn also contributed greatly during the last battle. I will call him in now, so please quell your anger towards him.”

But Sigurd didn’t even have to do that. Lewyn was already waiting just outside the door.

“Mother, nothing makes me happier than to see you safe. I could hardly bear how worried I was for you, but seeing your face just now has calmed my mind completely. I will fulfill all my promises to Silesse from now on.”

“You’ve finally grown up into a wonderful person who can keep his promises. Do I have Prince Sigurd to thank for all of this?”

“Still you jest? I won’t go anywhere else ever again. I promise to stay by your side, always. And you already knew I can keep my promises now, didn’t you?”

“Well, I can’t deny you when you’re being so nice.... Did you hear about Mahnya?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping. The door was open, but I would never…”

“That’s fine. That’s not what I was trying to imply. She did something very pitiful. She died in my place.”

“Then I will protect you in her place.”

“Thank you. That’s all I wanted to hear. Please continue to aid Prince Sigurd. He needs your power.”

“But then what about you, Mother…?”

“I will be fine, Lewyn. As a descendant of Wind Sage Ced, you must work hard to lead this world down the right path. I think… this is the right time to entrust Forseti, the Holy Wind Tome, to you.” Rahna said, then handed Lewyn the tome that had been beside her. “I’d decided to give it to you the moment you came here, so I kept it by my side. Now, please take it.”

“This is… Forseti, the tome passed down through our family?” 

The moment she put it in his hands, a strange power flowed through his body. “Ah… this power… this warmth…”

“Lewyn, you cannot forget. The wind is sometimes strong and violent, but most often, it blows calmly. The Crusader of Wind is the same. He is violent in battle, but that is not his only purpose.”

“I understand. While I was away, I always thought about my purpose. I am the wind. I will never stop… I will lead the world in a new direction…”

“Yes, you are truly a child of the wind. I have done all that I must do. Now go!”

“I will. But… there’s one thing I want to ask you before I go.”

“What is it?”

“Please wait a moment.” He said, then left the room, and quickly returned with Erinys, leading her by the hand.

“Mother, and Erinys, please listen to me. I am in love with her. I wish to marry her. ...Erinys, will you marry me?”

Erinys froze in shock, and repeated the meaning of his words over and over again in her head. ‘He loves me… He wishes to marry me…’

“What’s wrong? I’m able to keep my promises now, so Mother will give us her blessing. I love you, Erinys. I want you to marry me.”

“Um… I… I… But Mahnya…”

“I did like her. But that was only a crush I had in my youth. Now, my heart knows what it wants. Erinys, the only person I want to marry is you.”

“Oh, Lord Lewyn!”

Tears flowed from her eyes.

“What do you say, Mother? I think this means she’s agreed to my proposal. Will you give us your blessing?”

“Congratulations, Lewyn, Erinys.” Rahna said with tears sparkling in her eyes. “If you think you have fulfilled your duties, then you should be free of your worries, too. Nothing would make me happier. I cannot wait to meet your children!”

ー

Sigurd’s army marched towards Zaxon.

When Dakkar learned of this news, he deployed a mercenary group, led by Lamia the Heartless, to face them.

As her name suggested, Lamia was a warrior to be feared, and all her subordinates were seasoned fighters.

However, Sigurd’s army still had more experience.

After cleverly baiting the mercenaries, they completely wiped the group out.

Dakkar had sent the units fighting for him out one after the other, and had no soldiers left to defend Zaxon Castle.

Sigurd’s army attacked the castle in a full frontal assault, broke down the gate, and flooded inside.

Sigurd headed for the main building to continue the fight, but was held back by Lewyn, who shouted out to him from behind.

“Sigurd, leave Dakkar to me!” Sigurd stopped when he heard his name, allowing Lewyn to pass him. “Mahnya was very close to me.”

Dakkar stood tall in front of the throne.

When he saw Lewyn coming towards him, he sneered at the prince.

“So the runaway has finally returned home?”

“I made a mistake. But now, all I can do is look forward. ...Oh, and by the way, I inherited Forseti.”

Dakkar’s face turned white.

“You dragged the Granvallian arch knights into this, and killed Mahnya! With my first use of Forseti, I will have my revenge against you!” Lewyn raised his arm, and all of the air surrounding him condensed in his hand. “Go to hell!”

The compressed air flew towards Dakkar, and the tremendous power in that small ball pulverized his body.

“Mahnya, are you watching? Can you feel what I’m feeling right now…?” A light shone in Lewyn’s eyes.

[divine-conquer]

( KATIE CASSIDY, FEMALE, SHE/HER ) ⌇ have you seen Vivienne Holt around icaria? they are the 33-year-old child of ATHENA. they remind me of SHARP KNIVES, A BOOKS EMBRACE, AND A GENTLE, HEALING TOUCH. ( Jess / 24 / Central / She-her )-New Emergency/ Family Medicine Doctor at Icaria Hospital

Basics-

FULL NAME: Vivienne Leigh Holt NICKNAMES: Viv, V, Vivie SPECIES: Demigod PARENTS: Donovan Holt & Athena PETS: Fluffy Black cat named Felix D.o.B: October 18th, 1987 AGE: 33 HOMETOWN: Charleston, South Carolina PROFESSION: ER Doctor/ GP at Icaria Hospital SEXUALITY: Bisexual SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English & Greek

HAIR COLOR: Blonde with highlights EYE COLOR: Green HEIGHT: 5’ 8" WEIGHT: 137 PIERCINGS: 3 in each ear, an old nose ring that’s mostly healed up Tattoos: Back, ankle, arm, thighs

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good ZODIAC: Libra EDUCATION: M.D. in Emergency and Family Medicine TEMPERAMENT: MBTI: ENNEAGRAM:

STRENGTHS:

Enhanced Strength, Speed, and Durability

Enhanced Intelligence/ Eidetic Memory/ knowledge of medicine

Precognitive ability to warn against danger/ hyperawareness

Gift of persuasion and making peace/ calming aura

Expansive knowledge of strategy, especially in battle and combat/fighting skills

Some expert knowledge of weapons

WEAKNESSES

Vulnerable to weapons and other methods of injury

Tries not to let her emotions get the better of her so she sometimes becomes closed off to others

Very protective and stubborn at times

Has a martyr complex so can sometimes be left vulnerable trying to care and protect others.

Biography

Donovan Holt was never one to settle down, which is why he chose the fast-paced life of the medical field. This led him to Doctors Without Borders, a profession allowing him to travel constantly and help save lives in the process. That is, until one day while he was working in a small village in South America  he met one of the locals, one of the most striking women he’d ever laid eyes on. She was stunning in every sense of the word, and her intelligence only baffled him further. The two became instantly close during his time in the village, so much so that their relationship became romantic. Donovan spent 6 months in that village, and every day of knowing the woman that went by Jane were some of the happiest of his life. The day that he was assigned to leave instantly filled him with grief. The two ended things mutually, but Donovan couldn’t shake the feeling of regret. It wasn’t until a few months later, while he was home visiting his family before his next assignment that he received a gift, the most important gift he’d ever receive. There, in a vine-weaved basket on his doorstep was a child, and a note which read, “She deserves a life I cannot give her, and the love I know you can -J.” Donovan was stunned, and ultimately baffled at the child he now held in his arm, and later he would feel eternally grateful.

Now a father, Donovan quit his position with DWB and took a posting at one of the local hospitals in the area where he had grown up, Charleston, South Carolina, to raise his new daughter. Vivienne grew up with a big family, one that cared for her unconditionally, although they always did have reservations about the nature of her birth. It was just her and her father outside of her extended family for most of Vivienne’s childhood, until he eventually remarried, and gained a step-mother, and eventually a baby brother. Vivienne never hated her step-mother, as many tend to do in the fairy-tales, but she just never felt a connection to her. She always felt closer to her grandmother and father than anyone else.

From an early age, she was quickly recognized for her intelligence and curiosity. She was always fascinated with how things worked, learning something new, and assisting others. Her father attributed those traits to her mother, but little did he know that they were more than just traits, but gifts. For most of her life, Vivienne was unaware of her lineage, or who her mother truly was, and that’s exactly how Athena wanted it. She wanted her daughter to have a normal life, and to grow into her gifts without Athena’s intervention or intrusion. Vivienne excelled at many things that she put her mind to and later decided to follow into her father’s footsteps of medicine.

It wasn’t until Vivienne had just begun her college years when her gifts really began to take off. As she came into her gifts, her curious nature embraced them, doing all that she could to explore all the new possibilities. It wasn’t until Vivienne and her college boyfriend, Charlie, were in a car accident, one that she shouldn’t have survived, where things took a turn for the worst. People began to question how Vivienne walked away from such a terrible accident, and she herself began to feel the guilt gnawing at her. Eventually, this led her down a dark path, one that nearly had a tragic end until the intervention of her mother. This was the night Vivienne was finally introduced to her biological mother, the Greek goddess Athena.

From this visit Vivienne began to understand who she truly was, and as if the final pieces were falling into place. Once Vivienne had time to process, she tried to form a relationship with her mother, trying to learn everything she could about who she was and what this meant for Vivienne. This, however, was short-lived, and her visits became shorter and less-frequent until Vivienne barely ever heard from her mother. A small part of her felt as though she had been abandoned again, until one day, years later when her mother told her about a safe-haven for her kind. This is what brought Vivienne to Icaria, to be with those who would understand what it’s like to be a demi-god and to hopefully be closer to her mother once again.