#it's bound to be a nightmare to anyone who has spent time in the real world

[navree]

after a week at a proper university for the first time in literal years, i am once again reminded that learning is fun but the other students can be Annoying

[baldurs-gape]

Worry Worms

A little shared fact about the party was that the worms were in communication with each other. Even with the Emperor's protection, the group were bound in a way, their worms connected to each other. Sometimes it was awkward, other times funny and sometimes frustrating. Yet the worst were the moments where flashes of the past and the pain it held flashed through the group.

The first signs of a shared existence were the pang of hunger. It wasn't obvious to start with, everyone migrated to the supply packs for snacks and ate with more gusto. Yet the hunger was left unsated. Bickering turned to annoyed disagreements and huffy sulks. Lae'zel refused to even look at Shadowheart over the simple fact that the berries they'd had stashed away were now mixed with nuts.

"Perhaps we ought to ask Astarion to feed?" Wyll muttered to Karlach quietly. "It's driving me insane."

"Urgh, yes. I can't eat another mouthful but I'm still starving. Is this what being a vampire is like?"

"Like what?" Astarion sauntered up to them, thumb rubbing at the corner of his mouth as though wiping away the last dribbles of blood after feeding.

An awkward silence held them all in suspense until Wyll cleared his throat. "This hunger. Is this your day to day experience?"

Of all the thing they expected, an honest laugh was not on the list. Astarion wasn't even mocking them, he was genuinely tickled by the question.

"Darling, this hunger isn't mine. It has been dogging me as much as you by the sounds of it."

Which just left one real suspect. The one who had been most graceful at handling the sudden affliction. That evening Gale sheepishly admitted to his affliction. Once he'd consumed a locket, the hunger faded from all their minds.

If only things could be as simple. For a while it seemed like it was. The weather was gorgeous, sun bright and hot. It burned fiercely as they wandered along their path. Armour was slowly stripped, so were clothes where possible. Any stream they crossed, most of them dipped into it with sighs of relief.

"It's hot as the hells themselves." Wyll was neck deep in a clear pool, eyes closed and head tipped back.

Looking around at the various states of undress and sweatiness, Karlach gnawed at her bottom lip.

"Literally. The old engine's been getting a bit too much. My bad."

"This is your doing?" Astarion whirled to look at her. "I haven't felt like this in two hundred years!" Despite not sweating like the others, his hair looked a little lacklustre and flat compared to its usual near-perfection.

"As I said-"

"Don't. I've missed this. Don't change."

Karlach's mouth snapped shut as she nodded and made a mental note to maybe linger closer to Astarion on nights where he looked more cold and alone.

Their adventures carried on. They bore the shared echoes of neck pain and head aches as Wyll got used to his new horns. Gale's mage hand was perfect to for those who preferred not to be touched and Karlach was more than happy to put her rather warm hands to good use too. Given her own horn, she was all too familiar with what muscles could cramp and hurt. Wyll was especially grateful for such knowledge.

Along the way they collected Halsin who was more than happy to tag along on the quest. Nobody was tactless enough to mention how he and Astarion gravitated towards each other, circling in tighter and tigther circles. They all pretended to believe Halsin's reasons were purely altruistic and maybe with a small amount of desire to learn. Nor did anyone mention that Astarion's tent had a tendency to be set up and then abandoned as he spent nights in Halsin's. It was a small comfort and they all knew they needed as much of that as they could get.

Nights tended to be rather monotonous. Once dinner had been eaten, they all drifted off to their respective tents for rest. Sleep came easy enough, so did the nightmares. Flashes of pain and terror. Revulsion and depseration. Hopelessness that hollowed out everything which was only filled by fear tamped rage. Lae'zel was the first to wake, cursing Shar and all she made her followers endure. Determined to wake Shadowheart, she left her tent. Only, Shadowheart was already by the dwindling fire, haggard and scratching at her back.

"Is this not the doing of your goddess?"

"She's much more thorough in taking the memories." The disdain in Shadowheart's voice was a blanket to hide her own discomfort. While awake, the flashes from the worm were no less distressing but the light of the fire helped a little.

"So who-"

Gale stumbled out of his tent and retched as a particularly sordid kind of pain echoed through them all. They all shivered in unison at it.

"We need to wake him." Even as he spoke, the worm allowed more memories to play out in their minds. "He wouldn't want us to know this."

"I don't want to know this," Karlach's voice joined. Next to her, Wyll looked harrowed.

As one they traipsed to the edge of camp where Halsin's tent had been set up. He was dozing, curled around Astarion with a smile on his lips.

"Hush, he's finally trancing." Warm pride made Halsin's words drip with affection. "Said he'd not done it since before being turned."

"With good reason. Wake him up." Wyll winced as new pains from relieved memories curled through him.

Resisting, Halsin watched the group and pulled Astarion into a protective embrace. The broke 'please' from Gale was what did it in the end.

It didn't take much more than a gentle brush of lips to his forehead and Astarion blinked awake. His worm silenced but not before a flash of panic could be felt by all as he stared up at the gathered group.

"I know I'm in high demand, but could we keep it to one or two at a time so I can make sure you all have a good time?"

If only it had been a joke. Before it would have been taken as one. Now though, the truth of his fawning in face of fear was all too easy to see.

"We just-" Gale seemed at a loss for words.

"They wanted to wish you a good night," Halsin helped out, even though he still wasn't quite sure what was going on. "And to make sure you're okay."

Tight blankness smoothed out Astarion's expression. He knew the others saw the memories his trance he brought to life. "Was I-" breaking off, he steeled himself, "Did I make noise to wake you all?"

"You were very peaceful, little heart." Halsin smiled at him and tucked him back against his chest. "Rest some more. I'm sure the rest of this conversation can wait until the morning."

Dismissed, the others filed out of the tent. They didn't sleep easy, kept up by the nightmare fuel of what they'd seen. At least Astarion didn't trance again so no more memories bled through into their shared connection. Come morning, nobody said anything. But if they were a little more gentle with Astarion after that, that was their own business and nobody else's.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Bound by hearts, not by blood

It's here! It's finally here! Happy birthday, darling @moonandstarlightsposts! DSJFBDSJ - I had so much fun writing this bday gift for you. Can you believe it? Before this, I've never written anything about our ladies - Kalina and Farah. Well, that changed now! I know how much Kalina means to you, so I hope I did her justice.

(This bday gift contains headcanon from a Redacted fan @/running-tweezers. You'll know which one when you read it.)

Anyway, happy birthday, wifey! I hope you'll have a wonderful day! And thank you @Broccoli for the fanart~

-

Summary: While unwinding with two of his friends, William Solaire is delightfully surprised when Bright Eyes crashes their night.

In scenes where old and new money rubs elbows underneath glimmering chandeliers, it's common knowledge that William Solaire is never without an attractive face at his side. No matter the event, a betting pool and a letter of invitation addressing the Frenchman go hand-in-hand with tongues wagging: "Have you heard who William Solaire is bringing tonight?"

They differ from time to time - flashes of the paparazzi's camera couldn't get enough of the Victoria Secret's model that was his plus-one during the Met Gala. His business associates at the Festival de Cannes flocked around; their inquires concealed by a barely polite veneer about the handsome actor clasping his arm. No matter where he goes, a man with a powerful sway in the international real estate market, a net worth beyond $1 million and air about him as if he steps out of a Renaissance painting, a spotlight will always shine on William Solaire and by extension, anyone he associates with. 

For the Empowered world, William's beaus never made it in the newspapers. What stirs every topic of conversation, though, is when the Solaire Patriarch is attended by two of his women. A pleasant evening can turn into a political nightmare whenever a Vampire King is accompanied by a pair of Old Bloods after all. 

But tonight, the world sighs in relief for William is with friends instead of bodyguards, basking in their company with vintage red wines on a silver tray.  A roaring fireplace lit up the leisure room, and warmth seeps through hidden corners. The chilly night air is Autumn's herald, but the three Vampires are tucked away inside a beautiful manor. 

"This is an excellent Pinot Noir, Kalina dear," Reclining on a plush armchair, William toasted his glass in appreciation. "Is this Cheval Blanc 1947?" 

Moroz Kalina, clad in nothing but a red lingerie and a pair of high heels, shakes her head. Her golden hair tumbles off her shoulders like a waterfall. The red marabou robe drape on her body paints an alluring image of the woman. "Penfolds Grange Hermitage from 1951. Thought you might like it." Her Slavic accent is thick and sensual, especially when she caresses every word that leaves her lips. 

As someone with a palate that had been delicately cultivated over the years, William raises his glass again. This time, to the Ukrainian Vampire for her immaculate taste in wine. 

"I do so enjoy these moments together. It's a welcoming reprieve from a tiresome day." William admits, setting aside his now empty glass. "I hope neither of you will take it to heart that I often relieve my burdens here." 

Kalina tries to shrug but can't because of the body leaning against her left side. So she waves a dismissive hand. "We have spent our years together for far too long to be petty. You need to complain, William? Then complain. The night is still young after all and we always have a spare room for you here." 

"You're cooking breakfast if you're staying, though," A new voice chimes in. The woman who has her head nestled on Kalina's shoulder yawns, shadows from the hearth dance across her glistening fangs. Unlike the two who had been drinking, she let the warmth of the fire lull her into a sleepy stupor with her legs tucked on the sofa-bed. In contrast to Kalina, who looks as if she just stepped out of a photoshoot, this Old Blood is wearing a tiny pair of black panties and a grey crop top that fails to cover her generous breasts; Simple in terms of sleeping garb but no less breathtaking when it comes to beauty. "I've been craving for something French ever since we came back from Champagne." Farah - William's second most trusted Old Blood - added. 

Kalina grins, lightly nudging her. "Did you not eat a Frenchman last week? Was he not enough?" 

"I meant food, Sayang (Love). I shouldn't have drunk from him, anyway. He was a chain smoker. That shit taint even the blood." Farah turned her nose up in a grimace.

"My poor Lady," Kalina coos. Her grin is then directed to an amused William. "There you go. We insist that you stay, William. It has been a while since you amazed us with your culinary skills. I am also looking forward to breakfast now."

"Then I best not disappoint. Do either of you have any special requests?"

The trio discussed the finer details of tomorrow's menu and compared it to what's available in the pantry and fridges. While blood will always be sustenance to Vampires, eating food is one of the aspects of humanity that none were willing to lose. Farah, in particular, has a fondness for the cuisines of the world. 

" - saw this one video from a Korean YouTuber. She made breakfast scrambled but the ingredients were Boujee. I think we might have the ingredients since I ordered some groceries from Whole Foods. I'll share the link - " Farah suddenly stopped rambling. Kalina makes a questioning hum when she detaches herself from her side and pads to the large window beside the fireplace. A cold breeze sweeps in as Farah takes a step back. 

The three silently watch as a body tumbles through the window in a mess of limbs and an oversized hoodie. 

A painful and muffled groan echoed in the leisure room. "I deserve that major L..."

William recognises that voice. He straightens up in his seat and with bewilderment coloured the low timbre of his voice, he asks, "Littlest one? Are you alright?"

Farah drops to her knees. She uses whatever healing Magic in her arsenal to close up the cuts on Bright Eyes' exposed skin - their face and hands. Bright Eyes roll to their back, making no move to get off the carpeted floor.

"Like a horse on Ketamine!" The youngest Vampire in the Solaire Clan declares with a thumbs up in the air.

William's eyebrows knit in concern. That becomes apparent when two of his dearest friends merely chuckle. He kept any reservations to himself and, instead, observed carefully how Kalina and Farah treated Bright Eyes; Frederick's Progeny and the ward of a very reluctant Sam. It's no secret to anyone in the Clan that the tension wove between those three is thicker and more complicated than any spider's web. No secret as big as a pair of young adults murdered by a trespassing Old Blood on home turf can be kept, so the grapevine exploded before William could even officially welcome the two new young Bloods. William would like nothing more than to step in, guiding Sam through a landmine of emotions (both his and theirs), but it wouldn't be ethical since he served as their leader first and foremost.

At times like this, William hates how the crown serves as his ball and chain. At times like this, he's grateful for Vincent's discretion and his ability to seamlessly slide himself into any situation without politics weighing him down. 

"Frederick is settling down at his own pace," William's Second Blood reports during a dinner together. William personally delivered a list of his Progeny's favourite blood type to his chef just for the occasion. Vincent had built a solid rapport with the young man, enough to be considered as a friend, and that deserved a reward. "He's thinking about enrolling at D.A.M.N; said he used to enjoy studying at his old university. Sam's probably gonna give him a crash course about it soon." 

"And what of young... Bright Eyes?" 

Vincent hesitated. "If they're not snapping their new baby fangs at me, they enjoy throwing words around like a flashbang. Most of the time, I think they speak English, but what do I know apparently? I don't live on Reddit or 4Chan's comment threads." He explained, playing it cool, but William felt the suspicion underneath. 

"And here I thought you're quite up-to-date with the modern lingo, Vincent." 

Vincent huffs. "There's modern lingo and there's thrash talk from the Internet. Bright Eyes has a Master on the latter because I can barely keep up when they start talking in gaming terms." 

And that's all William could get about Bright Eyes. A temperamental and wise-cracking Newborn with a hidden depth in them. 

Watching how wide Farah smiles as she carries a stammering Bright Eyes into her arms and dumps them on the sofa so she and Kalina can box them opens up a whole new perspective for William. First off: He had no idea that the three of them were close enough for Bright Eyes to break into their home through the window.

"Oh, Маленка(Kiddo)... while that was certainly more graceful than that time you tried to - hmm, what is that word? Wiggle? Ah, yes - down the chimney, what happened to the key that we gave you?" Kalina croons, her breasts smothering the Not-So-Newborn in a warm hug. A brutal combat medic on the battlefield. A head-turning 'ɡädəs (goddess) on the streets and Farah's Heart - those are the familiar labels associated with Kalina. Maternal never once made it into the repertoire, but here she is, lavishing Bright Eyes with all the comforts akin to a doting yet exasperated mother. 

"It accidentally fell into the toilet when I was flushing it along with his watch." Bright Eyes confessed with a dramatic gasp of air. Finally able to escape from the older Vampire's bosom. They didn't squirm away like William thought they would. Instead, Bright Eyes made themselves comfortable between them. 

"Aku lah... budak nakal betul!" ("Honestly... what a naughty child!") Farah retorts in her native tongue - Bahasa Melayu. Her smile turns amused as she perches her elbow onto the armrest with her head resting on her palm. "Vincent did something again to annoy you?"

"He came by when I was tryna helped Ricky study for a damned test paper - "

"The school isn't damned - " William can't help but mutter as an interjection but at the same time, he's too fascinated by Bright's ranting to stop them. 

"And he wouldn't stop hovering like a Karen in front of the cash register at Starbucks! It was annoying! I bet his orders are just like those caucasoidal femoids - "

Kalina snorts while William realises that it was a mistake to drink again. 

"And you'd think he took the hint when I dissed that he's 3 edges away from being a Sonic OC but the guy just stares at me as if he had a concussion!"

"And then?" Farah prompts. 

"Then I said the RGB lighting inside of his new car looks like a noob Twitch streamer set up so that was a major L for him and he ran to the kitchen but not before I pulled a Sneak 100 and grabbed his Patek Phillip." 

William blinks. Farah snickers. Kalina pats on Bright's shoulder, looking a bit proud. 

"I sympathise Vincent's plight now." For the first time in a long while, the Solaire King is utterly out of his depths. He had no clue how he should react to the verbal onslaught that came out from his Great Grandprogeny. 

Thankfully Farah takes pity on him, "Stick around long enough and they'll start making sense." 

"I... see." Well, if anything, William is quite good at rolling with the punches. Plus, nonsensical ramblings or not, he's not passing the opportunity to learn more about his youngest Blood, whether Bright Eyes acknowledges that or not. "Then please, treat me as your eager student."

William didn't miss the surprise flashes across their face. Like a veteran actor, a mask slides back into place to hide their minuscule reaction. William can hazard a guess that they thought he was about to rebuke them for making fun of Vincent. It makes him wonder if that is a habit of Sam's. 

"I-I didn't know you guys were busy," Bright Eyes stammers, clearly trying to figure out their footing against him. Their eyes sneak a glance to their sides, gauging Farah and Kalina's temperament even after receiving a warm welcome from William's most powerful enforcers. "Uh... sorry for crashing your pow-wow. You guys gettin' hammered?" 

"We invited dear William for companionship and good wine to celebrate his return from overseas," Kalina explains, picking up her glass again. It was still half-full so she threw another carefree toast at William. "He has worked hard for us. Our King deserves to rest his crown for a night, no?" She teases and downs her wine to the very last drop. 

William doesn't deign to roll his eyes but does refill his glass. An image of a curious kitten comes into mind when Bright Eyes leans into Kalina's now empty glass to sniff at it. 

"Whoa! It's like my nose being plugged by liquorice!" Bright Eyes exclaims. Childish wonderment shines through their nickname. A part of William - who suffers through turmoil after turmoil during the first few years of his Turning - is relieved. Despite everything, there's still some innocence left in his littlest one. A Vampire's heightened senses are a lot to take in, so William is glad that Bright found some humour in it. 

Meanwhile, Bright Eyes thrust their arms to the tray beside Kalina, making grabby hands at the wine bottle. One of Kalina's finely shaped eyebrows raises in inquiry even though the young Vampire's gesture is well understood. 

"Use your words, Маленка (Kiddo)." 

"Fine... can I please have the liquorice-smelling drink so I can get hammered too? C'mon, Kalina. It's a celebration, right? A party!" Here Bright Eyes cast a pleading glance at William. Though their lower lips wobble, a calculative gleam pierces through their eyes. 

William didn't verbally defend Vincent when Bright sort of bullied him. He can almost hear the gears running in their head: Just how far can I push this man who can easily rip my head off into drawing his line in the sand? It's a survival tactic; against an unknown threat, the best course of action is to gently push the predator - to gauge its reaction - and then pull back before it has a chance to attack you. William doesn't need a Seer to tell him that Bright Eyes will grow into a formidable Vampire in a couple of centuries with a mindset like theirs. 

However, Farah chose to interject. She rubs Bright Eyes' back. "Tell you what, I'm craving something sweet. We got some of those ice-creams that you like. Sundaes for a Sunday - what do you think?" 

Childlike glee overtakes cold, calculation on Bright Eyes. It's an endearing look to William. They sprint away, followed by Farah at a much slower pace. A reasonable distance rests between the kitchen and the leisure room so that William and Kalina can converse without having to mind Vampiric sensibilities. But just in case... 

"De toutes les choses que j'attendais ce soir, Bright Eyes a été une délicieuse surprise." ("Of all the things I expect tonight, Bright Eyes' came as a delightful surprise.") William comments, that tenor voice adds a layer of beauty to his native tongue. 

The three of them - William, Kalina and Farah - had lived long enough and travelled well enough that mastering languages became as easy as collecting foreign postcards. 

Wine forgotten for now, Kalina sets aside her glass in favour of eyes fixing on the door behind her King. "Ми з Фарах ніколи не мали звички відмовлятися від безпритульних. Особливо таких поранених, як Брайт." ("Farah and I are never in a habit of turning away strays. Especially one as wounded as Bright,") She drawls when her eyes turn to William, they hardened. "Ваш герц��г засліплений своїм горем, спричиненим вашою принцесою. Замість того, щоб залікувати свої рани, він зганяє їх на тому, хто страждає від наслідків, які він не може контролювати." ("Your Duke is blinded by his grief caused by your Princess. Rather than heal his wounds, he takes it out on someone who suffers consequences out of their control.")

William can't refute that he's blindsided by her observation, not when he harbours similar suspicion whenever he sees how Sam treats Frederick and Bright Eyes. The difference was a cause for concern and yet... 

"Qui doit intervenir ? Le roi ? Mais alors j'abuserais de mon autorité sur ceux que je considère comme ma famille," ("Who should step in? The King? But then I'd be abusing my authority on those I considered family,") William closes his eyes. "Samuel ne se sent pas à l'aise de me voir autrement que comme son supérieur et le jeune Bright Eyes n'a pas encore décidé si j'étais un ami ou un ennemi. Ni l'un ni l'autre n'apprécierait mon intervention." ("Samuel is not comfortable seeing me other than his superior and young Bright Eyes is still deciding if I'm a friend or foe. Neither would appreciate my intervention.")

Helplessness isn't a foreign concept to William; it's an old friend even. However, it's been a long, long time since it came to visit him. 

"Семюель встановив свої кордони з тобою. Брайт ще ні," ("Samuel laid down his boundaries with you. Bright has not yet,") Kalina surmised, her beautiful expression vacant as she pondered. "Я думаю, що знаю спосіб, як ви можете їх завоювати. Цій дитині буде корисно мати більше людей на своєму боці." ("I believe I know a way that you can win them over. It will be good for that child to have more people in their corner.")

William has been wanting to dote on a GrandProgeny for about, oh, a century now. Alexis and Vincent were so quick to fly off from the proverbial nest that he missed how noisy the mansion could be. Hmm. Perhaps if he's able to understand Bright Eyes, they in return, will indulge his doting. 

Seeing eagerness dawn on William made Kalina chortle. She likes him like this - free of the crown, allowing the ever-curious and ever-hopeful man to emerge. 

William leans forward and laces his fingers together, a picture of attentiveness. "J'adore les bonnes histoires. Dis-moi, quoi que tu prévoies, est-ce la même méthode que celle qui permet de ramener un chat errant dans un foyer chaleureux?" ("I do so love a good story. Tell me, whatever it is that you're planning, is it the same method that corrals a stray cat into a warm home?")

They both can hear footsteps and chatter returning to the leisure room so Kalina playfully leans forward to whisper. "Після того, як ви забезпечили їжу та ліжко, на черзі іграшки та ігри. Тобі пощастило, Вільяме - Брайт давно не грався з нами." ("Once you made food and bed available, next comes toys and playtime. You are in luck, William - it's been a while since Bright played with us.")

The door swings open just in time. Farah and Bright Eyes return with triumphant smiles akin to conquers. Kalina spread her arms wide and Farah assumed her prior position, only this time, she's carrying a tall glass of crisp rice treat sundae with a generous helping of maple syrup. Meanwhile, Bright Eyes is holding up two sundaes. They hesitate at the doorway before marching towards William. The Vampire King is utterly delighted when they thrust one of the sweet treats to him. 

"Oh my, thank you ever so kindly, littlest one," William smiles beatifically and accepts his sundae. A familiar scent twitches his nose. "Vanilla ice-cream topped with lightly grilled strawberries and glazed in balsamic, what an interesting combination." 

Bright Eyes chooses to perch on a window seat, not unlike that of a spoiled cat. Their sundae is peanut butter ice-cream topped with salted pretzel sticks and garnished with slices of bananas and drizzled with honey - a dentist's nightmare. "Yeah, I saw you snacking on strawberries during that dinner party. Vanilla 'cause... ya know. Balsamic to match your Boujee vibe." And with that, they quickly shove spoonful after spoonful of ice-cream into their mouth to avoid speaking further. 

How is it possible for fondness to bloom like a field of sunflowers? Bright Eyes' silliness inspires William to write poetry about the early years his Progenies came into his life, including Sam, Frederick and Bright Eyes. For now, he enjoys how flavours dance on his tongue. "Delicious. I do believe I have a new favourite dessert." 

Bright Eyes let out a tiny smile. They bit their lower lip, hesitant about something - only for a split second though. "I heard you spoke French just now. I'm sorry, by the way. That's got to be my least favourite disability."

William's spoon freezes in mid-air, in between his gaping mouth and sundae glass. The man is too stupefied to speak. 

"William?" Kalina suddenly chimes in, currently enjoying being spoonfed by a doting Farah and the look on William's face. The two women shared a beaming smile before mischievous eyes trailed to him. "Would it be too much of a trouble to reschedule the patrol roster tonight?"

"Not at all. Do you want to take over tonight's shift?" 

"It's a full moon tonight. WonderWorld will soon come alive, yes?"

Bright Eyes notices the change in expression on William and Farah - a secret smile is shared between the Old Bloods and it immediately hooked Bright Eyes' curiosity. "Aite. Emergency meeting: y'all look Sus with a capital S. Too bad this isn't my spaceship or I'd eject the three of you." 

"You can't eject 3 Crew members at once." Farah is quick to correct them.

Bright Eyes stick their tongue out, the perfect picture of petulant. 

"You have never been to WonderWorld on a full moon, have you?"

"Nada. Why? What's happening tonight?" 

"A rite of passage."

-

Tony is 14 years old. But tonight? Tonight he'll be a man. 

"Here we are brats. Wonderworld!" One of the older teenagers - Noah - spread his arms like an expert showman to the abandoned amusement park before them. If it weren't for the moonlight, darkness threatened to consume the entire area. Standing underneath the street lamps alongside the second youngest generation of the Shaw Pack, WonderWorld looks like a scene taken straight from a horror movie. For the Empowered World, that isn't too far off the mark. 

Tony did his best to ignore the anxiety threatening to stop his heart. If Noah and his gang knew just how scared he was, they wouldn't stop teasing him. 

Noah clapped his hands - it was so loud that it startled Tony and his friends who were lost in their own thoughts. "Alright, listen up! The dare is simple: each one of you will sneak into WonderWorld, do one lap and come back here, got it?" The older boy explains, his eyes scanning the pre-teens that followed him tonight. He relishes the sadistic glee at their terrified expressions. "The only rule is not to get caught by Vamps. Simple enough. So, Tony, you're up!" 

Tony's feet take a step back before he even knows it. Two of Noah's friends burst out laughing. 

He'd probably started running in the opposite direction (So what if the older teens drove them here? He'll walk back home if he wants to!) if it weren't for his best friend clutching his hand. Rachel squeezes it before narrowing her eyes at a grinning Noah with all the righteous fury Tony knew that burned in her kind heart. 

"What? Why does Tony have to go first!?" 

"It's what we all agreed in the car, remember? And by all, I mean me so chop-chop, Tony. The moon isn't going to wait for your ass all night." Noah made a show of checking the time on his phone with a bored look. 

"That's not fair! Who died and made you Alpha!?"

"Fine, by all means, you can go first then. And just for that, Rachel has to do a double lap." 

"You son of - "

"It's OK, Rachel. I-I don't mind going first." Tony softly interjects. The thought of Rachel walking around in the dark abandoned amusement park longer than she has to scare him more. 

Some of Rachel's ire disappear like smoke. Concern knit her eyebrows together. "You sure? I don't mind going first. Honest!"

Tony shrugs, putting on a brave face. "How hard can it be? I'm just going in and out ASAP while dodging Vamps." 

"That's the spirit, Tony!" Noah cheers and roughly claps Tony's back. He winces. Noah's friends waste no time separating Tony from Rachel and the others and shove him to the rusty gates of WonderWorld. "Good luck in there." He sniggers. 

Tony gulps. He tosses one last look at a worried Rachel before steeling himself. He then turns on the flashlight feature on his phone and takes the first careful steps into the park. WonderWorld saps all the light the deeper he treads inside, and soon enough, the light from his phone can barely pierce through what's behind the vegetated-infested carousel. His beating heart is so loud even to his ears and that just adds more fuel to his anxiety. 

Because if Tony can hear his own heart, surely any Vampires could hear him before they even see him. He shoves that thought aside before it paralyses him. 

The carousel marks the entrance and only exit of the park. So when Tony passes by a corner of ruined Bumper Cars and a broken sign that directs visitors to a decrepit Haunted House, he knows that he's halfway through WonderWorld. Feeling like he can afford a quick break, Tony studies the signboard in morbid curiosity. "Oh, I'm not going to be the first victim in any horror movie!"

The Ferris Wheel in the distance looms over as Tony continues his round. 

It's eerie, yes, but his heart gradually settles down. So far, his luck is coming through - no one knew just how many Vampires patrol the area each night but perhaps they're taking a break tonight? 

Tony is feeling good about this - 

 The rustling of chains nearby shatters the silent night. The hairs on the back of his neck stand attention. Tony's heart resumes beating furiously. 

He spins to where the sound is coming from, the brightly lit phone shaking in his grip. Sweat runs down his back when nothing but dangling chains hang from the rusted foundations of a fallen Roller Coaster. 

"It's just the wind..." Tony whispers to himself, his breath heavy. His eyes search wildly for any figures behind steel bars. "Just the wind... You're OK." Not wanting to push his luck, Tony jogs away. A tiny part of his brain is screaming at him not to make any noise against the gravel. 

Yet no matter how desperately he tries to silence the fear pumping through his heart and unstable footsteps, something is stalking him. 

They came in the form of heavy boots crunching on dead leaves behind him. A barely-there silhouette slinking on his left. A once lifeless wooden log suddenly topples from the water slide. The sound of it crashing to the ground nearly snatches Tony's soul. 

"Who's there!?" He squeaks, phone spinning in all directions with a paranoid, frantic edge. He can no longer recall where exactly he is in this expansive park. Is he close to the entrance? Did he loop around the familiar-looking carousel? And in the name of everything that's holy - 

Is something getting closer? 

Tony struggles to breathe now, legs rooted to the ground. His mind all but scrambled, trying to come up with a rational solution: maybe it's just a racoon... a racoon that can shove off a large, rideable wooden log... but still! It's possible! Because Tony and the rest all heard of what Vampires do against Empowered trespassers - they got chased away.  That's it. 

So whatever this something is? It can't be - 

"Hey guys, welcome to episode 666 of my Minecraft Let's Play!"

Tony's scream was so loud that it could jumpstart the heart of every Vampire in Dahlia back to life. 

Against everything that Tony assumed, that something turns out to be a Vampire! A Vampire that's grinning ear-to-ear while holding up a peace sign. 

"Greetings, traveller! I am the pitbull of this park."

"Mr. Worlwide!?" He squeaks, words just flying out without a thought. However, that just makes the Vampire's grin near maniacal.

"No, no - more of the das kindershredder version. It's from a German bedtime story, you understand, right?"

Tony could only gulp. 

"Anyway, legend has it that once a year, on the night of a full moon, a fur fest is conducted right here in our glorious crack den for the rejected, the incels and most importantly, the fuckbois. You can thank Vincent for that last one. And since life is just a Bulgarian, you must be tonight's unstolen car."

Now, any sane person who knew better than to live on the Internet would think that the Vampire lost a couple of their marbles but Tony is many things - hypocrite is not one of them especially since it's his life mission to make a career out of his TikTok account with his Hot Takes™ about Sigma Males.  

"I-I didn't mind going first..." Tony mumbled. His face then pulls a scowl, anxiety gradually leaving his body. "Though, did you have to try and kill me via jumpscare? I thought you Vamps just chased us off!"

The Vampire had the audacity to shrug. "I'm just built differently, very Willed Smitherently." They then lean down to offer Tony a hand. The crazed grin dimmed to a more... humane smile. 

Tony mentally debates with himself, only for a few seconds. While he can't quite get a grip on the Vampire's vibe, it's best not to piss them off. So he lets them pull him off the ground. "Are you going to chase me out now?" 

"Nah, it's not fun running around this place while you can't see and there's a maniac with fangs chasing after you," While their voice retains that devil-may-care tone, a flash of self-loathing morphs the Vampire's face. As the unofficial 'runt' of the litter, it's like looking in a mirror. A sense of understanding and camaraderie starts to bloom within Tony. "Anyway, I think that's enough OSHA violation for one night - what's your name, kid?" 

"Anthony Santoro. My friends call me Tony." 

"Mamma Mias and meatballs. I dig it. So here's the deal, Tony - can I call you Tony? - Mr. Solaire said that we're pretty tight with your Pack, so any wolfy trespassers aren't to be harmed. So since I'm not in the mood to run around after you, how about we just chill instead? We can grab the others and hang out at McDonald's or something. You game?" 

Now that they mentioned food, a fright can really make you go hungry, but - "I'm sorry, uh - "

"They call me Bright Eyes. The most certified crack-concentrated Earl of the House of Solaire."

"O...K? Um, while a burger sounds good right about now, I - we can't just leave in the middle of our dare. Noah and his gang would never live it down if I backed out now." 

The Vampire - Bright Eyes - folded their arms across their chest. For the first time since they met, their grin vanishes. "Now would be a perfect time for an exposition cutscene." 

Tony delivers just that. Some confessions come easier in the dark and with a stranger whom Tony has a strong suspicion shares more than one plight. 

" - but they're too chickenshit to do anything to us whenever the Pack is under one roof. Noah's a jerkface but he knows better than to do anything while Alpha Shaw is around."

Bright Eyes snorts. "Yeah, no shit. I've met him. Alpha Shaw has enough male hormones to transition someone just by standing beside him. You know, I think your Alpha would've been fine even without a Mate. He has so much testosterone oozing from every orifice that he can create a son via mitosis."

He can't help it; Tony immediately bursts a gut laughing. It's absurd to even imagine the Vampire and Uncle David being in the same room. "Uncle David might look scary but he's really n-nice," Tony hiccups, rubbing his wet eyes. "But whenever he's not around, Noah would drop his nice guy act. Rachel said he once grabbed someone's wheelchair handles without even asking for permission! He then pushed them around the store as if he was doing them a great favour. I think he just likes the look on their face."

Rather angered, Bright Eyes looks positively ecstatic. They clap their hands once, "He's an Ableist! That's awesome 'cause I'm a Cainist! BRB, these pockets need stuffing." Without another word, they squat on the ground and crabwalk away. All the while muttering themselves about 'biblically accurate rocks'. 

Tony is unsure if he should offer his help or not. This has been the most surreal night in his life! Turns out he didn't need to do anything because their conversation had attracted more Vampires. 

He hears before he even sees them. 

The definitive 'crunch' of a pair of high heels on gravel comes from the shadows of the run-down booths. A new Vampire stalks forward. She wears a simple pair of jeans and a red blouse; with her hair pulled up in a ponytail, cheekbones and eyeliner sharp enough to cut someone, it reminded Tony of those Empresses from SouthEast Asia that the school printed in history books. 

Once again, rooted on the spot, Tony could only gulp when the Vampire studied him with a wry smile. She then turns her head to the side and says, "You wanted Bright to make friends tonight. Unconventional means aside, I think they did a good job, Moonbug." 

From Tony's right, another Vampire emerges from the darkness - boxing him completely. This one is a tall, blonde beauty wearing a tight black dress and a pair of strap-on heels. If the one in red reminds him of an Empress, this one has a strong witchy vibe. As discreetly as possible, Tony's eyes flicker to Bright Eyes, still in the midst of perusing the best rocks for stoning. Is he on his own then?

"Of course they would relate more with the younger generations. Their fire burns with youthful vigour." 

Every instinct within Tony is screaming at him to run, to escape. Unlike Bright Eyes, these two are Old Bloods. It doesn't make sense, though; the Uncles and Aunts in the Shaw Pack mentioned that Old Bloods are a rare sight in WonderWorld. They didn't patrol nightly but no one really knows what they do in the Solaire Clan. 

The blonde woman pulls back her lips into a sweet smile, her eyes half-lidded as she bends to get a good look at him. "Your heart is beating so fast, дитинча (little cub) or should I call you, зайчику? (little bunny?)"

Should he Shift? But Bright Eyes said that the Solaire Vampires don't harm members of the Shaw Pack. 

The woman in red shakes her head fondly. "I think he has enough fright for one night, Kalina. Let's save it for the others." 

Kalina pouts but backs off. "Oh, very well Серденько (My Heart)." She clears her throat and some of that intimidating vibe is toned down. "Introduction is in order, yes? My name is Moroz Kalina and this is my everything, Nik Farah of Perak."

The other Old Blood inclines her head in greeting. "I mostly go by Farah after the 18th century. You can't exactly remain a Queen after you've Turned." 

So Tony was right! However, Kalina continues on. 

"And I believe you have already met Bright Eyes."

"A-ha! This looks good enough to give someone a concussion!"

Tony warily scans all three Vampires. "Uh... do I need to introduce myself again or..." His heckles rise once more when Kalina laughs. Did he overstepped!?

"Thank you, but no need. We all heard it earlier. It is very admiral that you could keep up with our littlest one." 

Farah chips in next. "This is Bright's first time, you know; patrolling on the night of your rite of passage. We thought it would be a perfect way for them to make friends outside of the Clan." 

"I see..." But Tony's first question remains unanswered. "What happens now? If you guys aren't going to chase me off, do we - " He makes a wide gesture to the empty park. " - just chill right here? Does McDonald's do deliveries to WonderWorld!?" 

"About that," Kalina takes over the conversation when Farah excuses herself and goes over to where Bright Eyes is. Tony absentmindedly stares as the Old Blood wipes their dirty palms with a handkerchief, lightly chastising them for picking up rocks with sharp edges. "While we would never step into the affairs of your Pack due to mutual respect and friendship, we would like to explain Bright Eyes' proposal further. I assure you, Mr. Santoro, we will personally drive each one of you home and at the same time, you can enact a bit of a harmless revenge against those older boys that you talked about."

Tony's eyes widened, and her words bounced in his head. Revenge against Noah and his gang? That... that does sound appealing but despite how good of a relationship the Pack is with the Clan, he can't just simply trust a bunch of strangers! Rachel would be so disappointed in him! 

Kalina tilts her head, her golden hair falls over one shoulder. Her smile turns to proud. "You are not convinced. Good. That is a smart brain on your shoulders, дитинча (little cub). William! Come introduce yourself. Your words weigh heavier than mine." 

Tony's heart plummets to the ground when a very familiar-looking man shows up. He and literally everyone in the Pack will always see this man at every important occasion that Uncle David hosts. Despite that, his smile is the kindest Tony has ever seen on anyone other than his Mum, no one can mistake how power drapes over his shoulders like a cape. So no matter how friendly he is, no one other than the Alpha, his Mate, the Beta and also his own Mate dare to approach him. 

Because William Solaire isn't a man anyone can approach. 

But here he is, approaching Tony instead. In fact, a panicking Tony has no idea why the Vampire King is coming towards him as if they're old friends! 

"Thank you, dear Kalina. I'm so very excited to meet Bright's new friend," Again!? Just how important is Bright Eyes to have these Old Bloods looking like they're two seconds away from throwing a party just because they made a friend!? "My name is William Solaire. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"H-hey." Tony squeaks. What is he supposed to do? Does he need to bow? Would it be rude not to look him in the eyes? Thankfully, he doesn't need to think too hard about etiquette.

The King doesn't seem to mind his stuttering. In fact, why does his entire demeanour remind Tony of how his Mum would fondly flip through their family album? "Please forgive my presumption, as it is my hope that you will take up Bright's offer. Making friends is always a joyous occasion and I would like to foster that for our littlest member of the Clan." 

"Oi! I don't need a playdate!" 

Instead of getting angry at Bright's attitude, the King is as confused as Tony when he stares at them. "Weren't you talking about wanting to eat everything from the McDonald's menu earlier? A...  mukbang, I believe?" 

"...Yes." 

"How wonderful! I have Alpha Shaw and Beta Talbot's phone numbers here. If it makes you feel better, Mr. Santoro, you can inform them of where you'll be at all times." 

You know what? At this point, Tony might as well roll with it instead of trying to make sense of what's happening. Besides, any form of suspicion and anxiety evaporates when Bright Eyes jog back with every pocket on their person stuffed to the brim with that maniacal grin.

"You're hanging out with us? Lit. Quick question: how loud can you scream?" 

"Can I call my Beta first? Maybe a lawyer too."

-

Noah's blood runs ice cold when he hears Jason's piercing scream. 

That's the third scream now. The first was Tony's. No one expected it, really - you either made a successful lap around WonderWorld or got chased out by Vampires. That's it! There was never an instance where anyone needed to scream in terror! 

"The runt probably got scared and pissed his pants." Noah rationalises to the group despite the waver in his voice.

"Fuck you, Noah." Rachel spits at him and runs into WonderWorld without even looking back before the older teenagers can even do anything. Her sudden reaction frightens the other Cubs. They fidget, they mutter in broken pleas to go home; how quickly the mood becomes miserable. 

"What do we do?" Noah has always played the role of the leader - the unofficially 'Alpha' of their year group - so it makes sense that one of his buddies would turn to him.

"Everything's fine," Noah insisted, trying his best to calm his racing heart. "Seriously! Why are you all freaking out about it? No one from the Solaire Clan would be stupid enough to hurt us - "

Rachel's scream was as loud as Tony's. Just as terrified. 

Everything goes downhill from there. His friends scrambled into the car and tears down the road, leaving Noah, his own car and the remaining group scared shitlessly. He never thought he would be abandoned just like that!

"C-Can we leave now? Please!" One of the kids sobs. 

"What about Tony? Rachel? They're still in there!"

"Do you think someone k-killed them!?"

"They're not dead!" Noah snaps, startling the poor pre-teens. He grits his teeth; focusing on the anger is better than being frozen in fear. "They probably got trapped somewhere or-or found a dead raccoon. Look, I'm gonna grab them and then we'll leave. Fucking brats, can't even do anything right..."

"You're just gonna leave us here!?" 

Noah can't believe this is happening to him, betrayed and now bickering with a bunch of baby Wolves that are seconds away from wetting their pants. Great. In the end, though, they all went in together. It was difficult walking in the dark when everyone huddled so closely but Noah kept his cursing to the minimum. The sooner they find Rachel and Tony, the sooner he can call his 'friends' out on Tiktok. 

The light slowly fades behind them as they head deeper and deeper into WonderWorld. The brats held each other hands so as not to get lost, and Noah smacked the one nearest to him when he tried to grab his hand. 

"Tony! Rachel! Where the fuck are you!?" Noah's shout echo through the park. One of the pre-teens whimpers in protest at the sudden loud noise. 

No reply. Dread creeps into his mind and heart no matter how hard Noah tries to deny it. He grits his teeth and wonders if he would need to comb through the entire park for the missing kids. And where are the Vampires that were supposed to be on patrol anyway? There's no way -

The hair on the back of Noah's neck stood up. Someone is watching him. 

He immediately whirls around, only for his heart to seize in his throat - he's completely alone. 

"W-When did they - " Noah's eyes widen in disbelief and horror. Every last one of the kids is now missing. They were just behind him! He couldn't hear any footsteps. It happened so suddenly. As if they were snatched - 

"Yo!" 

Noah didn't realise that he had been spinning around in his panic state, eyes searching out for unseen threats. Only for it to pop up behind him as suddenly and silently capably by a Vampire. 

He sees the fangs first. Then the crazed smile. The inhumane eyes. 

"Alright, buddy, I'm going to shit yourself."

Finally, and hilariously too late, Noah catches a glimpse of a rock in the Vampire's raised fist before he's knocked out. 

-

Dahlia's Daily Dirt | OCTOBER 17, 2023

Is William Solaire stepping up as a stepfather?

Written by Madelyn Talbot, a Buzzfeed journalist who covers film, TV, music, and celebrities. 

Ladies and gentlemen, hold on to your burgers and chicken nuggets because the most desirable billionaire in Dahlia is making headlines again. This time though? As a potential stepfather! Yes, folks, this writer couldn't believe her eyes when she spotted William Solaire at McDonald's last night. Spoiler alert: he wasn't alone!

The real-estate mogul, or the man who is known to ignite countless hearts with his sultry smile and gentlemanly charm, was recently seen within the Golden Arches with not one but two stunning ladies in tow. And that's not all; they weren't there for a romantic rendezvous. Oh no! The trio was accompanied by a lively group of pre-teens, sparking rumours that our leading man may be stepping up to the plate as a potential stepfather for this beautiful couple. 

Eyewitnesses inside the fast-food haven couldn't believe their luck as they watched an intriguing scene unfold. Our local Romeo was all smiles in his 3-piece Armani suit as he held up a phone, very kindly helping the kids to video record their mukbang. Could it be that this heartthrob is trading in red carpets for carpool lanes in his limousine?

The two glamorous ladies by his side seemed perfectly at ease with the situation. They laughed and chatted, clearly embracing the mayhem that comes with corralling a group of excitable pre-teens. We couldn't help but wonder, are they the lucky ladies who have captured the heart of Dahlia's most sought-after bachelor? And the question that I'm sure you all are wondering: 7 children? Really? 

While the ladies fed each other fries dipped with ice-cream, our man of the hour was ever attentive in attending to the kids with stories of the latest Met Gala, and from the looks on their faces, it seemed he had a knack for entertaining even the toughest critics - kids with discerning taste buds!

Now, we're not jumping to conclusions, but could this rendezvous be the start of a heartwarming love story? Or perhaps, it's just a glimpse into the philanthropic side of our favourite celebrity, treating some lucky children to a night out. Either way, it's safe to say that this impromptu McDonald's adventure has left us craving answers almost as much as the juicy McRibs.

So, will our media-acclaimed most desirable man be adding 'stepfather' to his list of impressive titles? Only time will tell, but one thing's for sure: Dahlia's hottest heartthrob is stepping up, and we're loving every moment of it. Whether it's rocking Wall Street or at the golden arches, William never fails to surprise and delight us. Keep your eyes peeled, folks - this Modern Family saga: Stepfather edition is just getting started!

RELATED:

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Gregory Keaton returns to his one true love - Spicy Wings! 

TAGS: Dahlia's Daily Dirt | News | Celebrity | William Solaire | More

[SHOW 1K+ COMMENTS]

[readychilledwine]

Hello lovelies! Long post regarding requests below the cut 💜

Tldr located at the bottom. 💜

I currently have over 30 things in my inbox 😬

I am in the process of trying to condense similar requests down to maybe give a few people who are requesting very similar things something that covers what both parties want.

I also am just going to be just responding to some instead of giving them full fics or drabbles. There's a few that are very similar to fics I've already posted, WIPS I already have, or their ideas for things I've made multipart fics.

If it's similar to one I've posted, I'm concerned with those that I may end up almost copy and pasting with a few name changes, and that's not the content quality I want to give all of you nor the expectation I have of myself, so I will not be fulfilling those requests at the moment, but I want your ideas to be out there for someone else. If it's similar to a WIP, I'm responding with a preview of what's written. If it's an idea for an existing multipiece, you may get a little preview, or just the side eye emojis if I'm trying to keep things sneaky sneaky (like I am with Bound by Fate and Cat and Mouse)

*heavy sigh here*

Warnings for this next part - discussion things in my inbox related to requests I'm receiving for (insert several SJM males x pregnant reader)

I really don't know how to address this next part without risking some people getting upset, but I have to. If this next part upsets you, please know this is a me thing, not a you thing, and I genuinely hate saying no.

There's a few requests I'm going to let sit for a little bit or just delete, and if you are one of those people who sent them, I'm so sorry.

There's a lot that would require me to address very real fears that I, as a pregnant woman and soon to be mother, am currently dealing with, counteract, and have to watch for. I know it comes off very excuse-y because "writing is therapy," but I don't think any amount of therapy really stops a mother from being afraid for the safety and health of their child, especially a newborn who relies so heavily on you.

I've tried multiple times to start a request that's started to affect my own dreams about my child, myself, and what my poor baby daddy would do if someone took us from him, and, to be frank, he's closed my laptop when I start doing the thousand mile stare, begin stage one of hyperventilating, and crying. He loves that you all support me, but we have spent the night talking about it, and this needs to be a temporary boundary for a little bit, and it may become a permanent one.

Again, I am so sorry, but I have to keep my emotional and mental well-being stable and safe for our daughter while she finishes baking to perfection the next couple of months. I will happily give you all nesting and warm happy pregnancy feelings and emotions. I'll address minor pregnancy angsts as well, like days with light movement, the anxiety that sets in between appointments, the fights my boyfriend and I and a ton of other expecting couples go through, but I do kindly have to ask that kidnapped pregnant readers enduring torture, kidnapped babies, killed off (via torture or death during labor) pregnant readers, and still birth requests stop coming to my inbox. I just can't handle them this late into my pregnancy.

Tldr and skipped below - Elizabeth will be going through and posting requests or responding to them. She loves requests and wants them, but she also has asked that people stop sending her requests regarding the following

Kidnapped newborns

Pregnant readers being tortured/forced into preterm labor

Pregnant reader dying during labor

Pregnant reader being murdered and the baby is taken

And my personal favorite nightmare inducing senerio- acotar male x pregnant reader with a stillborn.

Again, send requests. I love them. Please just consider if I'm actually the right person for it. Again, I am very sorry to anyone who may be disappointed now, but hopefully, I can fulfill your imagination other ways. 💜

[eclipsecrowned]

reposting from the old blog. not reblogging bc of the user who sent in the initial ask, so i’m rephrasing this from a meme response to a standalone meta on hel, mental health, and the ability to reach out for help.

Hel’s mental health is NOT GREAT. Her life is pretty much a series of distractions from her hopeless situation and the toll it takes on her health, physically and mentally. She is a carefully crafted facade that keeps all her varying issues buried so deeply they cannot possibly surface and fuck her over.

Her entire being is a creature of composure that she grew behind closed doors to serve others first and her own negativity never. And that’s a nightmare existence, especially because whenever the mask starts to crack, she either further isolates or turns to alcohol. Sometimes a combination of both. She is on record saying that alcohol makes the world more tolerable, which is just the tip of the iceberg.

She would have to admit to having internal problems in order to be diagnosed, so no, she is not presently diagnosed with anything. That said, she’s struggling when others aren’t looking.

Depression is a major issue, exacerbated by her dour and dim surroundings, which she can find some relief from in simply leaving her realm for a time. Even then, she is bound to Helheim, and can never truly be free of it. It also tends to surface whenever she has a bad physical flare up, when her nerves start to fray or she is confined to bed.

Anxiety is another major issue with her, though one she carefully covers. You see this most often in how she approaches those who try to get close to her, terrified of being seen for what she is, terrified of not being good enough, and going out of her head with worry that she never truly be able to hold on to anyone, or that people will be hurt for their association with her.

PTSD is the real silent killer here, and her trauma is always hanging over her. It colors every relationship she reaches friendship or beyond. She lives in constant fear that somehow, she will be made to lose again. Someone will be hurt because of her. Someone will leave her, whether willingly or by choice. She’s never going to get out from under the fate of her family, especially when avenging that trauma is stated to be the purpose her entire life is working towards. PTSD feeds into pretty much every other struggle she has mentally. It’s the undercurrent that tugs at every other facet of her mental health, even if it’s not outwardly displaying as such.

Depersonalization and derealization can serve to break her as well, this feeling that she is detached from this life she was forced to lead, or feeling that none of it is real. She is alive among the dead. She is in a place with its own logic and laws. And when her stress reaches its boiling point, her mind simply lets her disconnect to cope. This is happening to someone else, and she is merely the audience. This is happening to her, but she is only an actor on a stage, and soon she will be led back to the real world once the play is done.

Hel projects, and she projects hard. She buries her self-loathing such that she doesn’t present weakness, but she’s very eager to display it in what she thinks of others. Others, she thinks, must see her as she won’t admit she sees herself. You see this especially with her parents – She thinks Angrboda must be disappointed in her, this daughter of a she-wolf who allowed herself to be tamed by the work of the Aesir. She is sure that Loki should hate for all the years she spent doubting him under Odin’s influence. She hates herself, and her weaknesses, and she pushes it upon those that love her. She can’t grasp their unconditional love, cannot see how she deserves it, so she flips it to her own personal narrative of how she should be perceived by those she thinks she failed.

Sublimation is taken to the point of martyrdom for Hel. She does not get angry, she gets clever. She does not get upset, she removes herself from the situation. While these are good coping mechanisms, Hel uses it to the point of denying any negative feelings whatsoever. She does not express anger or sorrow for her own circumstances. She thinks this was the downfall of Sigyn’s sons, and so she has stifled it so tightly that the feelings cannot even be understood any longer. And that is unhealthy, no matter what she might use as alternatives. Anger and sadness are natural emotions, and she refuses to see them as anything but a way to surrender control.

At this point, anything is better than Hel’s grin and bear it attitude. Therapy would be an absolute miracle for someone like her, but that would mean admitting there is a problem and letting someone else in – something her various issues have barred her from doing for so long.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

📋 Hello I am putting a formal request in for more Chris Saves Himself AU ft Mama Nakamura taking him I’m home only to realize the full situation

Continuing the Chris Saves Himself AU: One | Two |

CW: Grief, memory loss, recovering whumpee, some very brief and very vague references to noncon, minor whumpee (OC is 17), angsty fluff, reunion

It takes six days for the cops to let Akio's mom bring Tristan back to their house.

He's ready to be discharged from the hospital by day two, but there's nowhere for him to go. WRU is still saying there's no record of his existence, even with the barcode on his wrist. Tristan's only known living relative, Joanne Botham, is claiming he ran away from home and she had no idea what happened to him, that what she had told the Nakamura family was out of frustration and anger at Tristan for disappearing. The governor is out on bail facing charges for keeping Tristan in the mansion in the first place.

There are a lot of charges.

Akio feels by turns numb and enraged when he hears a news anchor read them out loud, bloodless words that don't seem to reflect at all how serious their meanings are.

The first few, he can process - false imprisonment, bodily assault - but then they keep going, and they get worse in ways Akio can barely even begin to imagine.

What Tristan has lived through... Akio's brain refuses to let it coalesce fully, but he has nightmares, dreams about Tristan screaming for him and being on the other side of a door Aki can't open.

He dreams about hands on Tristan's body and the way he might have screamed for help. Akio wakes up crying, retching, running to the bathroom to throw up whatever he's eaten that day as if he can rid himself of the poison of knowing.

His mom calls a therapist.

His father tells him to stop watching the news.

Akio just waits until they're in bed and searches for everything he can find on twitter, on reddit, on every-fucking-place anyone is talking about this. And it's everywhere.

He stops telling his parents about his nightmares after the second night.

Oliver Branch says WRU sold him a product they knew was outside the bounds of the law and lied to him about it. WRU says they don't know what he could possibly mean by that and they have no paperwork or documentation that Tris was ever in the system at all, and if he was, then there must have been a mistake about his age. They swear they'll do a total review of every single Box Boy, Babe, or Buddy to ensure absolute compliance.

The soundbites make Akio's mouth dry.

How many are there, then? If they have to keep looking to find more? How many like Tristan?

How many?

Joanne Botham, who never answers Aimi's furious calls and then changes her number after the second day, goes on TV and says she did nothing wrong and there's no proof that anything happened except maybe Tristan lying about his name and age to make WRU agree to take him in. Oliver Branch says he has the proof WRU knew, and he'll provide it in exchange for immunity.

They all point fingers at each other on national television, in press conferences and through their attorneys.

Through it all, Tristan sits in a hospital bed staring out the window at the blue sky as though it will be stolen from him all over again, waiting to be told where to go, what to do.

And it takes Aimi nearly a week to get the police to agree to allow her to take him home. She brings everything she can think of to meetings with the detectives heading up the case, shows them reams of team photos and home movies, folders and folders of everything Aimi and Mrs. Higgs had ever talked about or done together with the boys.

The hospital needs the room, needs the bed. The detectives don't want to put him into foster care when he barely seems to understand he's a person. The social services people won't take him because they're not equipped to handle a situation like this one. The adjustment houses don't want him because of something to do with what kind of Boxie he was, and Aimi doesn't elaborate and something in the set of her expression makes it clear Akio shouldn't ask.

After a week of mostly just being able to look at him through the small little square window in the hospital room's door, Aimi finally gets legal permission to take him out of there.

Akio isn't prepared for the slew of news vans that are there when he and Aimi arrive, someone having tipped off reporters that they might get a glance of the governor's secret Box Boy today. Aimi, though, simply sets her shoulders, slides a pair of dark sunglasses on, and walks through the crowd like a queen with her head held high, a small duffel bag handle in hand.

Akio hurries behind her, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched, hood pulled over his head, trying to ignore ten thousand camera flashes. It's so much worse than the leadup to the Olympics would have been, if he were still performing at elite.

Or at all.

He has a strange, surreal hope that Tris won't be disappointed in him for quitting after Tris died.

Even though he's not dead.

They step into the hospital room around 10 in the morning to find Tristan not in the bed, but sitting on the couch built into the wall under the window, curled up on the crinkly plastic cushions to look out the window, humming low, soft and tuneless.

The hum makes Akio's heart ache with a sudden realization that this odd waking dream he's been living for a week isn't a dream at all. Tears flood his eyes and he has to blink them away as fast as he can. He's heard that hum in his ear as kids during sleepovers, he's heard it when Tris was nervous before performing a new routine, he's heard it while they waited anxiously for scores or studied for school.

"Hey, sweetheart," Aimi says, her voice low and soft, but even so Tris jumps and turns to look at them with wide, startled eyes. One hand goes up to his neck, and Akio swallows when he sees Tris has wrapped gauze around his neck to sit like the collar he was wearing when he fell from the governor's bedroom balcony.

Akio watched the cell phone video that made the rounds over and over and over again. The flash of red hair, shirtless, the bruises he was covered with, his hazy drugged eyes. Over and over and over again.

Watch him fall, watch him land, watch the people run to him and get him out of there when Akio has been sitting here crying his eyes to red half the time for a dead best friend who wasn't dead at all.

"H, Hello," Tristan says, but he doesn't know them. Akio can tell, the way his eyes move between them is uncertain, unsure. "Hello, ma'am. Can, can, can I, what..." He swallows, shivering, and Akio watches the fear move across his face. "What... what can I... do for you?"

His slowed-down voice makes Akio feel sick. He's only ever seen Tristan do that when he's with people who don't understand him or love him for who he is. Now it seems like it's the only way he remembers how to talk.

All Tristan's muscles from gymnastics are gone, leaving only faded shadows of his strength behind. He's skinny, so pale he nearly reflects the light from the ceiling. His freckles are faded, and his hair is shorter than Tris ever liked it.

Being so thin makes his eyes even bigger, they seem to overwhelm the rest of his face.

"Honey, we're going to take you to our house," Aimi says, keeping her voice the same low gentle cadence. "While we figure out what happens next. Aki and I will be taking care of you for a while. How's that sound? Would that be okay?"

Tristan looks between them again, and something shifts in his face. A kind of desperation moves there, and he turns more fully to face them, leaning over a little to look up at them. Hair falls over his forehead, and his hands move to rub over the texture of a loose pair of sweatpants someone gave him to wear under his hospital gown. "To... your house? Would I be... yours?"

He looks at Akio again, and there's something in his face that says he sees that as the best case scenario, that he was ready for far, far worse than simply changing owners. That he's... hoping he'll be Akio's property now.

Akio's stomach flips at the thought and he has to put a hand over his mouth and turn away, catching the sob before it can make its way up out of his throat.

Aimi's arm moves around his shoulders instinctively, and she leans over, pressing a kiss to her son's short black hair. "It's okay," Aimi whispers. "It'll be hard at first. But it's going to be okay, Aki. Saishūtekini wa daijōbudesu. Tristan wa mada anata no shin'yūdesu."

Tristan, sitting on the little couch, blinks a few times. "Friend," he says in English, a little haltingly. "Shin' yu. Means... best friend." He scoots closer to them along the couch, and his eyes are so big and so very, very green. Just how Akio always remembered them.

Aimi's head raises and turns to look at him, her arm tightening around Aki, breath catching in her throat. "You remember that?"

"No." Tristan shakes his head. Scoots a little closer, even. "Yes. I don't know why. Are you..." He looks at Akio. "Wa-... watashitachiha... sh-shin, um, shin-shin'yūdeshita. Yes? Did I-... did I say it right?"

Tristan's Japanese was never great, he'd just picked up some here and there from all the time he spent around the Nakamuras at home and in their car. They used to lay awake at night during sleepovers practicing over and over until Tristan had a new phrase to impress Aimi with.

But hearing his voice, his living breathing real live voice, sounding out the words...

It's too much.

It's too fucking much.

"Yeah, um, y-yeah, you-..." Akio's words are suddenly gone. He chokes on his fear that this somehow is a dream he will wake up from to find Tris still cold in some unknown open grave, and he can't keep the tears back any longer.

His knees buckle under the onslaught of grief and hope and fear and love, and he drops to the cold tile hospital floor, hands pressed over his mouth until his lips are pushed painfully into his teeth, and he wails, muffled but loud enough that there's rustling as the cops guarding the door turn to look inside through the viewing window.

Aimi drops into a crouch behind him, rubbing at his back as he curls over himself. Her voice trembles with tears she doesn't shed. Akio remembers the days after they were told Tristan was dead, how she would cry in her room at night with Aki's dad when he was home from work, but somehow when he and Emi were bawling their heads off, her voice stayed calm, she kept her composure.

Right up until she was alone.

Now, though, she's barely hanging on as her son sobs on a hospital room floor before the emptied-out shell of his best friend.

Bare feet pad along the floor until Tristan drops down in front of him, reaching slowly out. Cool fingertips touch the back of Akio's hand, and he pulls them slowly down to look and see Tristan only a foot or so away from him, kneeling, watching him.

"I know you," Tristan whispers. "It hurts, but... I know... you. Don't, um, don't I?"

Akio can barely see him through the tears that have turned the world to watercolor suggestions. Nothing's in focus. But he grabs onto Tristan's hand, those familiar always-cold fingers, and holds tight.

"You know m-me," He manages. "You do, Tris. You know me. We-... we know you. We want to t-t-take you h-home."

Tristan tilts his head to the side, and it's such a familiar gesture, one he was so sure he'd never get to see again. "My... name is Baldur," He says, softly. "My Sir named me-"

"Please don't call him that. Can you... can you answer to Tristan? Please?" Akio is the one to reach out this time, touching Tristan's shoulder, hesitant. Waiting for him to pull back and away, to flinch like he's been doing when they watch him with the nurses.

Instead, Tris takes a breath and leans into the touch.

"It hurts," He says. "But, but, but, but-... but I can try."

Akio nods, and then Tristan is moving forward, and their arms are around each other and Akio is scared of himself for a second, scared of the welling of feelings he can't control. He's afraid he'll crack Tristan's ribs with how tightly he holds on.

Tristan's face buries itself against his neck, into the crook of his shoulder.

"I missed you so much," Akio whispers against the coppery hair. He's going to start crying again. He can hear his mom sniffing behind him, digging into her purse to pull out the little pack of tissues she always has in there. "I missed you so, so much, Tris."

"I think... I think I, I, I missed you, too," Tristan whispers back, and Akio isn't sure if he can even know if he means it, but he also knows that it's so good to hear the words that he doesn't even care.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @what-a-whump @whumptywhumpdump @downriver914 @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

[lesbianjunimo]

OM Brothers as Hozier songs

I am a cottagecore lesbian, therefore this post was inevitable. Anyway here are the Hozier songs I think resonate most with the boys and their relationships to MC! Each will have a little explanation blurb (tho I am writing this before I start so I’ll probably get carried away asjdgkdj)

this is very different from my usual style so feedback would be greatly appreciated!! thanks :D

Lucifer -  As It Was

You are the home Lucifer comes to after losing his first one. He can never go back to the Celestial Realm, the place he was born and raised. But he doesn’t even want to when you are with him. 

You, and all that you are, are home. Being with you makes Lucifer feel a joy like he did before the otherness, the War, came. He never thought he could feel that way again. You are as bright as the lights of the Celestial Realm; a light he thought he would never see again. A light he thought he had dragged both himself and his entire family away from forever. But here you are, in front of him, shining with a light he had almost forgotten despite his best efforts to remember. 

And your love for him is unmoving. You know his past, you know his present, you know the worst sides of him. Hell, he tried to kill you before! And yet...your heart remains unmoved. He will never be able to express his gratitude for the way you waited for him, waited for his pride to subside, waited for him to realize the depth of his feelings for you. You welcomed him with open arms when he finally came home.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Just as it was, baby Before the otherness came And I knew its name The drug, the dark, The light, the flame The highs hit the heights of my baby And its hold had the fight of my baby And the lights were as bright as my baby But your love was unmoved

Tell me if somehow Some of it remains How long you would wait for me How long I've been away The shape that I'm in now Your shape in the doorway Make your good love known to me Or just tell me about your day

Mammon - Sunlight

Your love is sunlight. Pure and simple. Your love is sunlight to Mammon, who has not known a soul like yours since the Celestial Realm. He loves his brothers, and he knows they love him, too, but their love feels conditional. Your love for him is unconditional, and you tell him so every day through the way you look at him.

He still doesn’t know how you put up with his waffling for so long. With the way he ran away from your affections, the way he put up walls between you to protect his aching heart. If your love was like his brothers’, if it required him to change...he didn’t think he ‘d be able to bear it. 

But you were stubborn. Almost as stubborn as him! And when you finally reached a stalemate you confessed. The moment “I love you,” left your lips, Mammon knew he was lost to you. He was lost in this foreign feeling and the only way out was in your arms. And from that moment he knew he would never leave your embrace, never leave your wonderful heart. 

He would sooner die before he let his sunlight be taken away.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Oh, the tale is the same Told before and told again A soul that's born in cold and rain Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight At last can grant a name To a buried and a burning flame As love and its decisive pain Oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight All that was shown to me, sunlight Was something foreknown to me, sunlight Oh your love is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight But it is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight But it is sunlight Sunlight

and

Each day you rise with me Know that I would gladly be The Icarus to your certainty Oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight Strap the wing to me Death trap clad, happily With wax melted I'd meet the sea Under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

Leviathan - Like Real People Do

Levi has never cared for the company of others who are real, who are not figments of some grand author’s imagination. All they do is hurt him. He has had too many heartbreaks in his life to let anyone else into his story. He is a lone side character.

But then you came bounding into his book and tore apart every page with self-loathing words written on it. He fought you tooth and nail, but you just kept digging, straight to his heart. You dug yourself in deep, so deep he couldn’t move you even if he wanted to. Which, of course, he can’t even imagine doing now.

You’re real. And so is the love you have given him. With each kiss you prove to him that he is not some side story. He is the protagonist of his own adventure. You are his love interest, written to fit perfectly against his side when snuggling on dark nights. 

It took your arrival for him to realize just how much he longed for the company of real people, for the affection of real people. And I don’t mean in the literal sense of real- I mean people who are real with him. People who are truthful, who won’t hurt him with stinging words, barbs aims right at his psyche. You use your words to guide him without crippling him, and he is so thankful for that.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask and neither should you Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

Satan - Shrike

Satan had no idea there was any goodness in him. No idea he was capable of anything with a shred of goodness in it. That was, until you came along and showed him just how long his stone heart had only been lying dormant. It was never useless, as he had suspected. It just needed a skilled stonesmith to chip away at it carefully, which is exactly what you did.

Even as he felt you cracking away at his walls, he would not tell you how he felt. He knew from the first tap of your gentle hand on the rough rock of his heart that he was yours. That he always would be. But he could not utter his love. How was he to know if you did this to everyone you met? Was he as special to you as you were to him? Or was he just another sculpted heart in your collection?

He couldn’t hold out for long, though. Not when you were housing him in your heart’s warmth with no mention of reciprocation required. What was your scheme? Why were you showing such goodness to him, and at the same time revealing he was capable of the same? 

But when you whispered words of love to him, it all fell apart. The last chip of stone covering his heart shattered, as did his resolve to hide his love from you. He knows that you two will always be together, even after this lifetime ends. Perhaps the two of you will return, him as a thorn and you as his shrike.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

I had no idea on what ground I was founded All of that goodness is going with you now Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted All of my goodness is going with you now

and 

I was housed by your warmth Thus transformed By your grounded and giving And darkening scorn Remember me love when I'm reborn As the shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

Asmodeus - Nobody

Asmodeus, unlike his brothers, has known love. He has bathed in love, breathed in love, slept in love. He knows love. And yet, in all his years, he has known no love like your love. 

Your love is a wholly new phenomenon to Asmo. So pure, unfiltered, unconditional. Surprise picnic dates you spent all weekend planning, bouquets of flowers waiting for him on his bedspread, hugging him when you’re all sweaty after a jog because you know it bothers him. There is a fondness in your every action, even when you simply pick a nail polish shade for him to use for the week. It is an unfamiliar sensation for Asmo to feel such love through an accidental brush of the fingertips.

Because of this, Asmo never wants you or your relationship to change. Damn everything he has known before, damn the opinions of anyone he knows, damn what he knows of love! Your love is the only love he cares to know, now. Your love and everything that comes with it. 

Asmo has had many adventures and love affairs in his time, and yet you are the only one he never wants to end.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

And I think about you though everywhere I go And I've done everything and I've been everywhere, you know I've been fed gold By sweet fools in Abu Dhabi And I danced real slow With Rockettes on dodgy Molly But I've had no love like your love Ooh from nobody I'd be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave But I want you to know that I've had no love like your love

Beelzebub - NFWMB

You are part of Beelzebub’s family. You have been ever since you slept beside him, holding his hand to keep his nightmares at bay. You are his family, and nothing fucks with his family.

Beelzebub’s family is his heart and soul. You are his heart and soul. He would do anything for you. Your little finger is stronger than any arsenal in the Devildom, because you have Beel wrapped around it. But part of the reason you have him in the first place is because he knows you would never use that to your advantage. You do not see Beel as a weapon, or a hungry beast, or a danger, nor even as an annoyance who empties the fridge every two days. No, you see him as Beel. And that’s all he can ask for. That’s all he wants.

Your affection for both him and his brothers is something he cherishes more than anything else. Nothing will harm you as long as he can help it. He has lost his family before, and he will not lose any ever again. The second your fingers interlocked with yours the night you slept at his side, he knew no harm would ever come to you from that moment on. 

Lucifer started a war for the ones he loved once long ago, and now Beelzebub knows that he would do the same.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing can get a look in on my baby Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing If I was born as a black thorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you Fuel the pyre of your enemies Ain't it warming you, the world goin' up in flames? Ain't it the life where you you're lighting off the blaze? Ain't it a waste it watch the throwing of the shade?

Belphegor - Would That I

Ever since the death of Lilith, Belphegor feared the fires of love, the fires of feeling, of emotion. He stomped on the embers of his heart and vowed never to light them again. It was easier to feel nothing than it was to feel her loss.

And then you...you and your blinding light, arrived. He hated you at first. He killed you, tried to put out your fire the same way he put out his own. But even death couldn’t douse your flame. You were a wildfire, one that had already spread to all his brothers and rapidly came to set him ablaze too.

It didn’t take you long to light him up. He knew it wouldn’t, but he still tried to fight it at first. The first word you spoke to him in the attic told him that if he were to ever burn bright again, it would be by your hand.

And that’s exactly what you did. Even after he had killed you, you fought to ignite the long-dead pyre of his heart. Your persistence wore him down until his lazy nature decided it would be easier to give in and let you burn him. He expected pain, expected scars, but instead he simply felt warmth. Your warmth. All the years he spent in the cold without even realizing it were suddenly over. He was warm in your arms, and he never wanted to leave again.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet Like the ashes of ash I saw rise in the heat Settle soft and as pure as snow I fell in love with the fire long ago With each love I cut loose I was never the same Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Laying waste to my loving long ago But that's not tonight  Where I'm set alight  And I blink in sight  Of your blinding light  And it's not tonight  Where you hold me tight  And the fire bright  Oh, let it blaze, alright, honey 

[pedrosbrat]

Sorrow You Are My Light {Pero Tovar x Max Phillips x F!Reader}

CHAPTER I : Insomnia

AU - Vampire Hunters

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Angst, Nightmares, Language, alcohol, yearning, violence (fight) , mention of murder, sword, blood …

Summary: You and Pero were united by fate in your youth due to a tragic event. You will seek revenge from the creature that caused your common suffering all your life without success... Until you cross paths with Max Philips, forcing you to form an alliance with an enemy to destroy a common foe...

Little Comment : Hi everyone, it’s my first series, I hope you will like it (if you see any mistakes let me know and I will correct it) - 1 chapter will be published every week, every Saturday⚔️ Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

1440- Transylvania

You have been travelling on horseback for a little more than two days now, with a weather changing from very hot to very rainy, and usually it doesn't bother you, at least not really, because Pero has the decency to take breaks, it has always been like that. But for the first time in decades of travelling together, he has refused to take any breaks, because he says you are close to the goal.

You can understand it, and you feel it too, but you would still like to be able to rest, not feeling your legs or even feeling your buttocks... You don't even know if you don't feel them anymore because of the total absence of sensation from sitting on your horse for this long, or if the pain you felt yesterday has taken over and has become a friend, and the only company you feel at this moment.

Because despite his presence, Pero is far too absorbed in the mission. This is nothing new, in fact, he has always been like this, only usually he has the good sense to admit that sleep is important for a good fight, as well as a somewhat adequate physical form...

"If we are attacked by a vampire now Pero I won't be able to fight". You say as you catch up to him slightly at a gallop. "Stop complaining," he says, slightly grumpier than his natural temperament, which is bound to be an effect of lack of sleep. "I'm not complaining, I'm just right! You know very well that the lack of rest will eventually kill us, if it is not the horses that die long before us! You say, slightly annoyed by his behaviour.

He stopped short, and turned to face you, grimacing, probably aching and exhausted, unconsciously proving your point: "If he runs away, he'll kill more people! You seem to forget what this thing is capable of!" "Forget?!" you say, widening your eyes, increasingly annoyed.

Vampires: demonic beings that have occupied the lands of your country since your childhood. At first, in your youth, their presence was only a myth, which some people described as mad swore they had seen, but as time went on, the world realised that it was all real. These decaying beings, who have no chance of finding the light again, their gaze completely absorbed in the darkness, surrounded by veins resembling the shade of smoke enveloping the sky and covering all traces of the sun. They are the shadows that will hide the light of all normal life since your youth... Since that night sixteen years ago...

You know that Pero can be stubborn, but he is not so deeply stubborn that he tries to pretend to anyone who doesn't know him, although he hides it quite well, he is a gentle man and a good man... Except when he really decides otherwise, as he has done for the last forty-eight hours. So you don't try to argue or have a simple debate with him on the subject, because you know very well what he's talking about and you don't want to talk about it... You've already had enough nightmares since you were a child, so you don't need that.

You gallop alone towards the big city, from where you are not so far now, determined to make a big turn, to let your horse rest, and to rest at the same time in a real bed, and not stones under a sheet for a pillow or an old tavern of the village where you were hunting.

It doesn't matter if he follows you or not, you're far too tired and suffering to care at the moment, and being a very good tracker, you know you'll be able to find him if only a few hours separate you from each other, and at least you'll be able to fight effectively if something happens.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The city is not as jovial as it usually is. You don't know why, of course, but there's a sort of silent restlessness that mingles with an almost empty square, leaving a black shadow over all those little houses, like a feeling deep inside you that you can see floating over the city.

"Anything interesting in the sky Paloma?"

You turn, coming out of the thoughts that had completely absorbed you, to find that Pero is at your side, handing you a piece of cheese, which he must have bought at the entrance of the city, and that you grab without hesitation the rumbling belly for any substitute of food... His way of apologizing and telling you that you are right, even if he will never admit it out loud...

Pero will never admit it, but he doesn't like to see you turning your back on him. He likes your presence, even if he doesn't express it, he likes to see you smiling, annoying him, lecturing him. He likes the way you've been waddling around on your horse for the last few days, and he knows it's only because of the pain he's putting you through, and that he shouldn't like to see that, he feels a little bad about it at times.... But you are so beautiful... And that ass, God only knows how many times he's dreamed of it bouncing off him...

"Nothing special, just a bad feeling" you say, taking a bite of the end of your feeble dish, "...I don't really believe in feelings you know, but for once I have to give it to you..." he says, kicking the sides of his horse to start galloping "No we should let the king know we're back, maybe he'll explain what's going on.

You nod and follow him, speeding up in your turn, not missing the crosses on the front of each house, as well as some silver objects in front of the windows, which normally would have been looted by the small thieves of the city, but even they don't seem to want to touch them... You start to understand what is going on but don't go forward, hoping that the bad luck hasn't come to your place of living once again, where you and Tovar have decided to stay for more than two years now.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The throne room which is usually decorated with berries on every table, and bright silk draperies falling from the chandeliers to the ceiling, adorning the sides of the windows are not present, leaving the room in a dullness and sadness that the king and queen usually do not like. But they don't seem to mind, in fact in this room where all the lords are gorging themselves and filling up, they think it is much more agitated than the atmosphere outside. An almost incomprehensible hubbub envelops the room, leaving the king before you, not uttering a word, eyes fixed on you, nodding towards a guard at the back of the room, leading to the inner corridors of the castle, a neutral look on his face, leaving his wife and lords to shout complaints and fears into every ear.

He stands up curtly as the others in the room don't take the decency to stop talking as they usually would, leaving the king to walk out the back door, with you on his heels.

"Where were you?!" He says before you can even close the door to the large hallway, "On the trail of one of them my king" Pero says, bowing his head slightly. "And?" Said the king as he placed his index finger and thumb on his nose, as if trying to relieve a headache. "We had a trail... But we got away from it because of me" you say as you look the king in the eye, not flinching, assuming that a disaster may be looming over the city because of you.

The king doesn't answer and starts pacing in front of you before continuing silently, in a calm and gentle manner that must have always been endowed with "It's nothing... I think you might have guessed it when you returned to the city, but one of them is attacking an area near here..." "And no one was AVAILABLE to stop it?... Dios mío..." says pero a little annoyed that everyone is waiting on you two. "Oh, there were many volunteers... But none came back."

You turn your gaze to Tovar understanding without him actually saying it, what the king is asking you. He nods and you do the same before turning to the king, "Where? Where did you send them?" you say, already beginning to think you're going to regret it, "The Singing Mountain... There was... If you had seen what happened there...".

He couldn't finish his sentence and squinted hard, as if to chase away painful memories buried behind his eyelids. "We've seen it all our lives," Pero said before bowing and walking out to cross the throne room. You do the same, "It will be dark soon, we can't leave now, it would be too dangerous. But at dawn we'll get started. You don't share any contact with him, out of royal respect, and simply turn on your heels to join Pero, already far away, probably thinking of a plan for tomorrow.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

Your little house is on the outskirts of the village, a little out of the way, not that you don't like the presence of other people, but you are simply used to living like this: just the two of you.

You had already tried to live in separate houses in the village when you arrived two years ago, but every night was cut short by panicked screams and the search for comforting warmth next to you, visions and nightmares that you hadn't had in years, memories that were buried in the depths of your mind, every moment and every night that you spent in Pero's arms.

And you know that it was the same for him, even if he never mentioned it. He didn't have to. The simple fact that he would leave his house at one end of town in the middle of the night to join you under the sheets without saying anything and just let you snuggle up to him as you have done since you were children. So, you drifted away from the villagers, refusing to attach yourself to anyone else, only needing each other, sleeping together to hunt and seek comfort from the demons that plague you both when night falls. And sometimes even sharing each other's presence you feel that you are missing something... It's weird, and you don't know what it is. You don't talk about it... But you both feel it as well...

After setting up silver dust, under foliage all around your home and bringing back some stew that an old lady gave you in the village, thanking you for protecting them, and drinking a large pint of beer that Pero had left out in the house, you both finish your well-deserved meal in silence, savouring every mouthful of stew with a deliciousness like you've never tasted before... Or maybe you're just so hungry that everything would seem like a delicacy right now.

The same goes for the bed, having obviously finished before Pero who always takes a second bite and calls you "paloma", which according to what he told you simply means that you don't eat much for someone who is always crying out for food, like a little bird. You quickly head for your room so that you can have a nice bath without being disturbed by his lack of patience who you know would be there asking you every thirty seconds if you were almost finished, wanting to take a bath as well. So you were able to enjoy it fully until the water cooled, letting your muscles relax from the tumultuous journey and the stress dissolve for a short moment you cherished.

"I heard people talking about this mountain when we first arrived..." says Pero from the bathroom, waking you from your near sleep, now lying on the bed "Mmmh..." you reply far too tired to utter a word. Eyes still closed, you sit up slightly, knowing that he won't stop there. "The villagers always said that the devil lived in his heart... I didn't really pay attention to it, since there was never a murder... At least until now.”

You open your eyes hearing his voice much closer than it was a few seconds ago, and the reason being that he is standing by the bed, with only a sheet around his hips, placing his weapons beside him as he always does before going to bed. And for your part you try to look away as you always do before going to bed. At least when you sleep in a bed with him. At first it was quite simple and automatic not to look at him when you were younger and when he is only "dressed" like that... But lately it has become quite difficult... It has become quite difficult to avoid the vision of his broad shoulders and that torso getting thinner and thinner towards his waist, that aqualine nose that you imagine between your legs, before placing kisses on it as on his perfect lips and this goddamn perfect little line on it... And that scar on his beautiful obsidian black puppy-dog eyes, even if you're almost sure he doesn't like it, that scar on his face...That scar gives him a crazy charm... And everytime it become impossible to avoid to look at the droplets falling from his deep chocolate curls, sliding down that nape of his neck that you wish you could mark with your lips, to end up around his pure silver cross, shining on his golden and bronze skin...

It's become so hard to ignore this man who's practically become a god under your hungry eyes, as hard as it is to ignore the coming arousal that you feel between your legs as you watch him walk around in his armor or the mere sight of the veins and muscles in his neck give you unholy thoughts...

You turn around and help yourself to your sheets, crossing your legs to try and forget what you'd like him to do to you in that room and bed right now, thinking about how you probably wouldn't have the energy for it, and you fall asleep quicker than you thought you would, already with your mind bent on what you might find on that mountain tomorrow...

Pero watches your body rise and fall slightly with every breath you take and exhale, as he has been doing every night for the past few years... Since he was old enough to understand that you were no longer just a friend to him, that he was no longer indifferent to your curves, that he would watch you come out of the bathroom out of the corner of his eye and bend over the bed to admire your buttocks that he always imagined grabbing tightly in his hands... But he never did and was content to watch you fall asleep with your back to him, now that he can no longer see you come out with a simple sheet around you, your hair wet and your skin steaming from the good bath he would have liked to share with you... He is only content to fall asleep following your breaths, wanting deep down, much more of his Paloma...

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

You have galloped and walked all day to get to this cursed place, making you arrive around mid-day, when the sun begins its descent towards the west.

The forest is not dancing as usual, and the birds, being the reason why this mountain is called the singing mountain by their chirping, have seemingly disappeared singing no more from this cursed place under a river now red with blood. A putrid, foul smell that you can't miss is present on the scene. No bodies. Lots of blood.

"I've never seen this..."

You don't respond to his remark, but you know exactly what he is talking about. A river turned red with blood, accompanied by the smell of death, yet showing no sign of a body near the water or even in the forest you've just passed through.

Vampires kill, and abandon the corpse, having no interest in keeping the body, or if they really want a use for it, they transform the person, but in this case if, the smell of decomposing corpse and the river of blood should not be present at the scene.

"I don't like this Pero...".

He doesn't answer and just grunts before pulling out his sword and pushing you back slightly. You do the same and pull out your sword, never having doubted his ability to sense the presence of another being, other than the two of you. "It's not dark enough for it to be one," you say, watching carefully around you. "The king would never send his men out in the middle of the night," he says, passing you some silver powder. "How..."

You don't finish your sentence and freeze. Your hands tighten on the hilt of your sword, and you look into the shadows of the forest at the glowing yellow eye sockets. A man you can't make out is watching you without moving. Pero notices this too and pushes you behind him, instinctively as he does every time, even though he knows you can defend yourself, he never misses an opportunity to throw himself between you and the danger... And you will do the same for him when the opportunity arises.

"Come here!" he shouted with a smile, taunting this bloodsucking bastard, who for his part did not move a muscle. He's watching both you, and you're getting more and more worried, not understanding why he's not attacking you, as they all do. This is not a usual behaviour from them... What is going on here...

Your question evaporates as he evaporates, not approaching you, or attacking you. You tug lightly on Pero's arm, asking him to return to the horse. He didn't insist and followed you, sword in hand, running and climbing on the horses as fast as he could.

"What was that?!" you shouted at him at a gallop not far from him, who stopped dead in his tracks a few paces away from you "Pero what..." "I don't know!" he says, a growing frustration in his eyes that you know only too well, a look he gets when he is about to do something impulsive. "Pero you're not going back!" "He didn't attack us..." "That doesn't mean he won't next time! What's wrong with you?!" You say completely dumbfounded by your best friend, willing to risk his life to prove a point.

FUCK PERO!

You follow him in spite of yourself, knowing that you couldn't forgive yourself for leaving him to die alone in those woods, whether it was his choice or not.

A million thoughts go through your head as Pero is hit by something. You jump off your horse and swing your sword at a man in your path, a man who did not flinch at the shock of a galloping horse. You throw a sword at him which he quickly avoids and disappears again, but you know this kind of technique well, you have fought them all your life. You grab a dagger in your other hand and stand back-to-back with pero who has just straightened up.

"I told you we should have left," you say, more than a little frustrated by events that could have been avoided. "This is not the time." He says as he begins to fight the creature in front of you, moving far too quickly for you to anticipate any movement.

He's faster. Smarter than anything you've encountered before, and despite Pero's ability to inflict some cuts with his pure silver sword, the vampire doesn't give in. But it doesn't kill us for all that... A sentence that goes through your head thinking that it could kill you both in a few seconds if it really wanted to... No, this thing is looking for something...

You don't take any more chances and grab your powder and throw it at the thing, which is screaming in pain, looking at you with reddened eyes, sharp fangs and black veins around its eyes like you've never seen before... "PERO THE HORSES!". He thinks for half a second about killing this thing here and now, but sees the powder starting to dissipate and prefers not to risk both of you getting killed here and now... Not to risk YOUR death here and now which would ultimately be his fault...

You gallop off without looking back, not understanding what you just saw.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

"PERO WHAT DID YOU DO THERE?!" you say as you slam the door of the house and drop your weapons on the floor "You could have gotten us both killed! You saw what that thing did!" "It didn't kill us... Why?" he says as he sits down on one of the chairs calmly, too calm for what just happened "Is that really the only thing that bothers you about what just happened Pero?!" you say as you bang on the table.

He straightens up curtly and approaches you with a dark look in his eyes, "Aren't you even asking yourself that question? Don't you want to know why he left us alive? Why didn't he kill us or just jump down our throats and kill us like they all do? ¡Miénteme! LIE TO ME?! TRY LYING TO ME!" He says, banging on the table in turn.

You don't respond, knowing he's right, but you can't help it, impulsive behaviour like that could have killed you both. "I shouldn't have gone back there I know that Paloma... But I don't understand..." he says more calmly trying to apologize in his own way. You take him in your arms, understanding that he acted in incomprehension and panic "I also wonder Pero but don't ever do that again... He was smarter... Faster... And seems to control himself in front of living people... We never had to deal with that" you say holding him tighter, also needing a little comfort, adrenaline gradually coming down.

"She's right!"

You flinch and Pero pulls his sword straight out pushing you behind him, hearing a voice coming from your kitchen. Your eyes widen as you realise that the vampire you fought a few hours ago is the man in the room...

"Your powder has no effect on me, cuties... Should you have tried the wooden stakes?" he says, leaning slowly against one of the walls in front of you. "The wooden stakes are too big, a risk. You have to get too close and we're not stupid enough for that," Pero says dryly.

Those features... A protruding jaw, puppy dog eyes that dominate a fierce rage and that aquiline nose... You turn to Pero and move from him to this man, noticing that your friend, has similar features with this creature in front of you even if his hair is longer than pero, but he doesn't seem to really care or even notice it, it's actually the least of his concerns "Why are we still alive? "He says, putting his weapon on the table behind him, understanding that this creature does not intend to kill you, that if it really wanted to, it would not have bothered to let you go and then follow you and interrupt you... Or would have simply killed you in this forest.

He took a step closer but changed his mind when he saw that Pero was keeping a hand on one of his weapons. "Because I'm not the one you're looking for" says the vampire. Pero looked at you wide-eyed and started to laugh, a dark laugh, far from being amused by the situation. "Do you hear that? Now they're coming to our house to haggle," he said, jostling you slightly, still not making you smile.

You know that side of Pero. That unstable side that loses control of itself and doesn't know how to deal with the information and emotions it receives, which are far too numerous to process quickly enough for events that are far too unfamiliar to its eyes. And you don't blame him because you yourself don't know how to deal with it all. "I'm not happy about talking to you..." you say, trying not to play on each other's nerves. "...But you haven't killed us yet, so I'll give you a minute to explain what you want from us."

He stares at you for a few seconds, examining you from head to toe, not missing the look of disgust and hatred on your face. "You're looking for my creator... And I need you to kill him" he said, staring into your eyes, a teasing smile on his face, very sure of himself, yet very serious about the words he just said "Vampires are normally very attached to their creator, I think you're setting us up" you said, crossing your arms "She can't understand that if I wanted you dead you'd have been dead long ago!

He disappeared for a few seconds and found himself next to you, making you jump up and grab tovar's sword behind you to point it at him. He stared at the blade and ran his finger over it, causing smoke to billow from his skin, like at the end of a fire. "I'm not one of the little vampires you usually fight, which makes me... superior to what you're used to..." Tovar rolled his eyes and stepped in front of you, again, instinctively offering his body as a barrier to protect you, letting the man finish, always having a thought of skewering him at any moment "... I'm not dependent on him... At least not completely. But I don't serve him like all those vermin you hunt every day, who don't know how to control themselves or even think for themselves."

He loosens his last words with a more than visible disgust, arranging his clothes and slowly walking around the table without taking his eyes off you. "I don't depend on him. I'm not attached to him in any way... At least not emotionally... Physically it's something else: I can't kill him, not with my own hands." he says, staring deeply into the wood of the table, as if he could see his own reflection there.

"And you need us for that?!" Pero laughed a dark laugh like you've never heard, now less and less amused by the situation, knowing that he could launch himself at the thing in front of you at any moment. You grab him by the arm before he does something stupid and pull him away from the vampire "We should do it Pero." He widened his eyes and reached up to your face, grabbing your cheeks, as if to check that you hadn't been bewitched. You clapped his hands and told him you were fine before continuing, "If he leads us to his master..." "HE'S NOT MY MASTER!" he shouts from across the room letting you know that he can hear anything you say.

You look at Pero and let him know you'll explain the rest later by miming dust between your fingers, as you've done since you were little, before continuing "When he leads us to his MASTER, we can at least find out where he is and kill him! That's what we've wanted for weeks, Pero."

He's not thrilled. He realizes the danger you're going to face and knows that you've already faced a lot of such danger in your life... But he's not excited. He doesn't know if he can trust the information this thing has just given him, and if he should trust it at all. He doesn't want to have to trust it, and he can see in your eyes that you don't want to either... But he also understands that you have no choice after the king's request. So he lets his gaze shift from yours to the vampire's. "Okay. We leave tomorrow morning," he says, stepping around you and approaching the vampire, a more stern look on his face than he usually wears "... But if you were foolish enough to betray us, know this..." "... That you'll kill me?" he cuts Tovar off with a laugh and moves closer to him "And I'll let you do beautiful."

You chuckle and cross your arms and squint your eyes, amused "We already don't trust you..." "I know that sweetheart" "...BUT that's no reason to lie to us" you say, raising your voice, slightly annoyed by his condescending air.

He tries to get around Tovar, who won't let him pass, and shakes his head to let him know he's definitely not going to approach you. "Believe me..." he said as he put his gaze into yours, a serious, not amused gaze "... If I tell you I'd let you do it it's simply that I'd rather it be you than him."

He nodded to you, then to Tovar, and walked towards the front door.

"Oh, and I'd rather be Max Phillips than 'that thing'," he said as he closed the door behind him, leaving you and Tovar in a state of anxiety and nervousness the likes of which you hadn't had in a long time, leaving you both that night alive to the slightest background noise, the slightest shadow passing through the thin draperies of your windows...

•

Chapter 2

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Mystery Of Pixie Hollow by GleefullyCaptainSwan - Sneak Peek

Chapter 3/11

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Chapter 3: Story Time

“I asked who you are, and you have yet to give me a name.” He growled again in her ear.

“My name’s Emma Swan. I just want to talk to you about your daughter.”

“What do you know about my daughter?”

“I know she went missing just like my son, Henry.” She felt his entire body flinch. “Please, right jacket pocket, there’s a picture of him. I just want to talk.”

She felt him dig into her jacket, pulling the photo free and stepping away from her. He stared at the picture, a frown slipping on his stubbled face. “How old is he?”

“He’s six. He went missing on his birthday a few days ago.”

He was waving the knife around, tucking it under his chin as he talked to himself. “It’s the appropriate age range…makes sense…hmm...few days ago…where were they…went North…” He stopped moving and stared at her. “Storybrooke, not again...”

“I’m sorry?”

“They were in Storybrooke last weekend, correct? The carnival.”

“That’s right, how did you know that?”

“I track their movements, keep an eye on where they go, look up any missing person reports after they leave.” He stepped into the boat, gesturing for her to join him. Emma stood nervously on the pier as he disappeared into the belly of the boat. She looked around at the empty pier. If she went missing now, no one would have any idea where she was.

Shit.

He poked his head up through the stairwell. “Are you coming or not, lass?”

She sighed, stepping onto the boat, and following him cautiously down the stairs. When she got to the bottom she gasped. In every direction she could see there were photos on the wall with string connecting them. It was like an art project had exploded in the small area, except it wasn’t art, it was some low-tech stalking shit if she ever saw it.

She knew she should turn around and get the hell of this man’s boat, but curiosity was eating at her. What did he know? Why was he so obsessed with the people on the walls?

“This is where I started doing my research, Alice, she went missing five years ago. We found Pixie Hollow just walking through the neighborhood and Alice loves fairytales, so she just had to go.” His voice trailed off sadly, as if he didn’t even remember she was in the room and then suddenly he spun around on his heels. “This one went missing shortly after, it’s harder for me to get information on anyone that disappeared before Alice, I tried, but my research skills aren’t that great. I hate computers, Alice always did everything…” He trailed off as he turned around again.

“You can see that they all fit the age range, around 5 to 8 years old usually.”

“You’ve been collecting all of this information for 5 years?” She finally spoke.

“I’ve had to be resourceful; the cops are useless.”

“Tell me about it.” She said with a snort.

He turned around and stared at her. “Where did he go missing at?”

“I told you, Storybrooke.”

“No, what attraction?”

“It was a mirror maze, you know, filled with mirrors, can’t find your way out.”

“Mirrors…that’s a new one. Alice, she went missing from the Jolly Roger Adventure ride, she got in the cart, she was only in for a few minutes, but when it came out the other side, she was no longer there. Vanished.”

“I don’t remember that ride being there.”

“I’m sure they change them out to avoid suspicion, just like the name. When we went, it was called Neverland Adventure Park. I believe they go by Pixie Hollow now.”

“How do you know it’s the same park?”

“You have to follow the money, love.” He said with a smirk. “And this one.” He turned toward the board on his wall. “She’s always with them.”

“Who’s that?” She stepped closer to the photo of a woman with short hair, wild eyes.

“That’s Tink. If the park opens near you, she’s sure to be found nearby.”

“Wait, like Tinkerbell?” She laughed.

“The one and only.”

“This is ridiculous. Next you’re going to tell me Peter Pan owns the place, and all his lost boys operate the rides.”

“Well done. You’re quite perceptive love, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to need to tell you.”

Her mouth dropped. “You’re insane.”

“Ouch, you wound a man, I can assure you I have my wits about me.”

She turned to leave. “I just want to find my kid, I’m not here to play pretend with a man who believes in fairytales.” He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist.

“I can assure you love; this is no fairytale; this is the stuff nightmares are made of. Pan is dangerous, and if he has your boy, you best start believing in him.”

She shook her head and pulled her hand away from him, turning to leave before something caught her eye near the stairs. She stepped closer to the photo. “I know this idiot.”

She felt him hover behind her, his breath at her neck. “That’s Felix. Real jackass that one.”

“He’s the assistant manager at Pixie Hollow.” The idiot who told her that Henry must have run away. He was there. No. Emma closed her eyes. This was insane. “I have to leave.”

“This isn’t some fantasy I’ve made up, Swan. It’s all real.” He called after her, letting her run up the stairs and away from the boat. “It’s all real.” She heard him shout as her feet hit the pier and she hurried back to her car, slamming the door shut behind her.

She tried to slow her breathing, the thought that perhaps what she had witnessed was just an elaborate nightmare and soon she would wake up in her bed and Henry would come bounding into her room and everything would be alright but as she drove home that night, thoughts of what she witnessed in that boat, she knew that no matter how crazy he seemed, the man was just desperate to find his kid.

Henry had only been missing for a few days, Killian’s daughter had been gone for 5 years. She wasn’t sure how crazy she would look if she hadn’t found Henry after that long of a time.

She stopped at a station when she was halfway to home, she filled up the bug and bought some snacks to eat on her way. She was starving and realized that she had skipped eating since she left her home that morning. As she stepped into the light, leaving the gas station behind her, she recognized a black car that she swore she saw parked outside Ashley’s house.

The sunlight gleamed across the front window for a moment and Emma walked casually to her car, she opened her door and sat in the front seat. Glancing over at the black car she saw movement in the front seat. She pulled out of the gas station, turning onto the road as she watched the black car behind her do the same.

Whoever this asshole was, they were definitely following her.

Emma drove a few miles until she spotted a convenience store on her left, turning quickly she dashed into the parking lot and parked her car. The black car squealed to turn into the lot, parking a distance away from her. Emma watched it in her rearview mirror and then swung her car open, grabbing the tire iron next to her on the seat.

She marched toward the car, gripping the tire iron in her hand. As soon as she got close to the vehicle, the door opened, and Officer Nolan stepped out of the car with his hands in front of him. “Hello Emma.”

“Are you fucking following me?” She yelled as she lowered the tire iron.

The passenger door opened, and Officer Locksley stepped out, his hand firmly on his hip where she knew his gun sat.

“We weren’t following you…” He said and Emma rolled her eyes.

“Are you kidding me? I spotted you miles ago, are you really going to try and convince me that we all just really had a hankering for some snacks miles away from town?”

“Well, we weren’t following you earlier, we just…” Officer Locksley started before his partner interrupted.

“We were following Killian, so imagine our surprise when you showed up.”

“Jones? Why are you following him? He’s just some nut on a boat.”

“You need to let us do our job, stay away from Killian Jones.”

“Why, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Look, I can’t get into specifics with you. I get it, you’re desperate.” Officer Nolan began and Emma found herself wanting to toss the tire iron at him. He flinched and held up his hand. “I’m sorry your kid hasn’t come home, but this isn’t the way to find him. Jones isn’t all there.” He said pointing to his head. “His daughter’s been gone for a long time now; we’ve been keeping tabs on him.”

“Why? I’m pretty sure you’re outside your jurisdiction.” She said with a laugh. “Why are you so obsessed with the guy.”

“Alice went missing in Storybrooke five years ago. He moved out here after a while, but we’ve always kept tabs on him. He was in and out of shelters with that little girl. Working as a fisherman with men he never should have trusted around his daughter. He’s dangerous, stay away from him.”

“Wow, judgmental much? So, if you’ve ever had the unfortunate experience of not being able to provide for yourself, of needing to ask for help somehow that makes you a bad person? Is that why you don’t believe someone took my son either? You looked me up and don’t like my backstory either?”

“Look Ma’am, we don’t want to see you get murdered too.” Officer Locksley added.

“Murdered?” She exclaimed

“Why do you always do that?” Officer Nolan yelled at his partner before turning back to her. “Look, just stay away from the man, let us do our job.”

Emma laughed and turned away from them. “Try doing your job first, maybe then you can give me advice.”

Emma took the backstreets home, satisfied when she didn’t see the black car following her anymore. How dare they judge someone because they had to live in a shelter. Emma had spent a few years in one herself before she was able to provide for her and Henry. Things weren’t always easy for them after Neal left them high and dry with no income and no clothes on their backs. Emma did what she had to do to survive. She hated to think that because of that, she was viewed as a bad mother.

She would do anything for Henry.

Emma tossed her keys on the table, shutting the door behind her and locking the latch. She went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping the top and dropping down on her couch. She reached over and pulled the laptop toward her, clicking the button as it blinked to life.

Pulling up Google, she typed, “Killian Jones Storybrooke.”

The search was quick and efficient, the first story came with an older photo of the man she met today. He was younger, probably in his early 20’s. The photo was of him being taken into custody, and another of his mug shot, steely blue eyes staring into the lens with a look of anger. The article was from 15 years ago.

“Killian Jones arrested for manslaughter.” The title caused her eyes to grow, she clicked the link, digging into the details. It appeared the man worked for a criminal mastermind, Mr. Gold, who operated outside the lines of Storybrooke. Killian appeared to be the muscle, hustling people for money that was owed to his boss. The story told of a love affair with the bosses’ wife, Milah. Apparently love was enough to set him straight and he turned on Gold.

From what she could gather from the court case notes, Killian had interrupted a fight between Mr. Gold and his wife, a fight so brutal that it left the woman paralyzed and unable to walk. The ensuing fight ended with Mr. Gold’s death and Killian’s incarceration for manslaughter, with time served and good behavior, Killian served five years.

Emma searched again, “Killian and Milah Jones.” A grainy photo of a wedding was all she could find, the man smiling as he stood behind the woman in the wheelchair. She bit her lip, clicking onto the next article. “Woman dies in car crash leaving behind husband and infant daughter.”

Emma made an audible noise as she clicked the article, reading the story about how a drunk driver had crashed into the couple who were returning home from a quiet dinner. Milah Jones died at the scene leaving Killian alone with his infant daughter, Alice.

Emma wiped the tears from her eyes, clicking on the search bar. “Killian Jones missing daughter”

The photo of the carnival caused her heart to stop. She recognized the lettering on the sign in the background. It said “Neverland”, but she remembered the way the letters of “Pixie Hollow” lit up the night she had arrived at the carnival. Reading the article, she found that the story matched the one that Killian had told her earlier that evening. His daughter had gone into the ride and never came out.

Whatever Killian had become in his life, a liar wasn’t one of them.

Emma didn’t know what it was about the man on the screen in front of her, blue eyes staring back at her as if he had a sad story to tell, but more than anything, she saw understanding behind his eyes. He understood what she was going through more than anyone else.

She reached for her phone sending off a text to Will.

Emma: You were right, it was a wild goose chase going after these parents, no one wanted to talk to me. I just need a few days to get right in my head. I’ll text you soon. Love you.

Before she could stop herself, she was in her car, driving down the highway on her way back to Boston. She glanced in the rearview mirror making sure there wasn’t a black car behind her, the officers who had found nothing about her son in the time they had been looking.

When she pulled up to the dock, she looked at herself in the mirror. “This is crazy.” She said with a laugh.

Crazy was all she had, she thought.

Getting out of her car, she made her way toward the boat parked at the end of the slip. She creeped onboard, unsure of the etiquette for alerting the resident of a houseboat to her presence. “Hello?” She called out nervously, hoping he wasn’t brandishing his knife at this hour. “Killian? It’s me, Emma Swan. We met earlier today.”

There was a creak below her, and she froze. “Hello?”

“It’s bad form to sneak into a man’s home in the middle of the night.” She heard the voice below her; his boots tapped against the boards as he ascended the stairs, moonlight dancing against his dark hair as he reached the deck.

“I’m sorry. I uh…I needed to talk to you. To warn you.”

“Warn me? What do you have to warn me about, love?”

“When I left here, I was followed by the cops.”

“Of course, you were. I’m honestly surprised it took Mills this long to send those two out for a visit. Pity they involved you, my apologizes, Swan.”

“Wait, you knew you were being followed?”

“David and Robin have been keeping an eye on me ever since I left Storybrooke. They are determined that one day they will catch me slicing young children to pieces and put me away forever.” He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you believe, love?”

“I think you just miss your daughter.” She said softly.

“You mean the boys didn’t tell you all about my sordid past?”

“No. Well, I mean yes, but I don’t care. I read all about it, Mr. Gold, Milah, Alice, if you wanted to hurt me you would have done it earlier when you held a knife to my throat. The way I see it, everyone has a past, that doesn’t mean we don’t miss our kids.”

He stepped toward her. “You’re not afraid of me, Lass?”

She shivered as his lips practically danced off her neck. “N..no.” He stepped back and stared at her as if he were examining every inch of her.

“Then you believe my little, how did you put it earlier…fairytale?”

“I don’t know what I believe, but I know my son didn’t run away.”

“Very well, then it’s story time.”

~*~

“Daddy I want to ride the Jolly Roger!”

“Ok starfish, but first daddy needs to get you that churro you wanted.”

“But I want to ride the ride, there’s isn’t any line.”

“But you can’t take food with you on the ride, Alice.”

“I can go on it by myself while you hold my churro, daddy. I’m a big girl.”

“Are you now, love?”

The little girl smiled brightly, and Killian knew he could never tell her no. He paid for the churro and the man handed it toward him as they walked toward the Jolly Roger Adventure ride. They approached the attendant and he handed over the tickets.

“Is she alright to ride alone?”

The man laughed, “Ah yeah, it’s not scary, in one door and out the other.”

He nodded to the man, looking around at the quiet ride, there wasn’t a single child in line. “Alright, starfish, get in your ship and enjoy the ride.” The little girl wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him.

“Love you daddy.”

“I love you too, my darling.”

She ran toward the ride, looking back one last time. “Don’t eat my churro.”

Killian’s eyes darted around the room, watching as the woman examined the photos he had amassed in the belly of his boat. He didn’t know if the woman believed everything he had told her about his dealings with Peter Pan and his traveling carnival, but he knew that she was desperate to find her son and if he knew anything it was that desperate people would believe almost anything.

If Pan had this woman’s son, he would need her to believe him. It was the only way he was ever going to get Alice back. He’d been doing this alone for five years, maybe it was time to try something else.

~*~

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?” Alice asked Henry as they sat in the dark.

“I’m going to eat the biggest piece of birthday cake I’ve ever eaten. I might even eat an entire cake.” The girl laughed. In the few days she had known Henry, he had always been at her side. He was scared and missed his mother, but more than anything else, he seemed to feel comfortable in her presence.

Alice had been here longer than most of the other children, she had remembered that terrifying feeling of being alone, knowing that you were trapped and couldn’t get home. She missed her father more than anything in this world but growing up she had learned a lot from her father about accepting your circumstances, learning to adapt to your environment.

She had done just that, adapted. She didn’t cause trouble, she made friends with all the children, and she knew when to speak and when not to. She felt it was her job to take the children under her wing, to keep them out of harms way.

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?” The boy asked.

“I’m going to sit down with my dad and eat a churro.” She laughed, smiling fondly at the last memory she had of her father standing at the entrance of that stupid ride, holding a teddy bear in one arm and a churro in the other. The smile on his face as he watched her disappear into the black void was the last thing she remembered every night when she went to sleep.

One day, I’ll find you daddy, she thought.

One day, I promise.

[thatonecitykid]

I bet on Losing

Hey everyone! Sorry this is so sad.. was already crying so might as well make everyone else cry.This takes place after Endgame but during the same time as Far From Home. Listen to "I Bet on Losing Dogs" by Mitski for the full experience. Word Count: 2517. Have fun angels :)

Peter had finally left for his class trip, Pepper and Morgan had gone to spend their summer in Malibu, the remaining avengers were either in space or had completely disappeared from your life. Here you were after five years of your life had evaporated, and after all this time you had to play your fathers role for all the remaining avengers. You hadn't had the opportunity to cry when you first learned about what had happened. You couldn't cry at the funeral, not because you did not want to, but because you felt as if your father wouldn't want to see it. No one wanted to leave you alone, but after months of trying to dig some type of emotion out of you they had assumed that the death and slow disappearance of your makeshift avenger family had unaffected you.

You finally had the opportunity to exist alone. You had also finally mustered up the strength to visit secluded cabin your father had lived in for the last five years of his life. Although you had been given the keys immediately after the funeral, something about visiting the area made you feel uneasy. Not necessarily creeped out but just as if you did not belong, after all it was something your father invested in after you had already blipped away for several months.

You drove up to the cabin alone, slowly unlocking the door as if to not start or whoever may be inside. Before even entering the cabin, it looks clean, you assume that Pepper has had people cleaning constantly to maintain the cabin. It made sense, it was something she's cherished. You stepped into the cabin slowly and began to look around. The walls were lined with framed pictures of Morgan, family pictures of Pepper, your dad, and Morgan, and random posters and vintage albums. Although you were not the one to complain about it, having no evidence of your existence in the main areas of the home caused your heart dropped. As you wandered through the kitchen and the main family room, there is no evidence of Tony's life prior to the blip, just a somewhat normal family of three.

You decide to wander to the basement area, leaving the office and bedroom spaces upstairs for later. There was a large sitting area that you assumed they watched movies in. There was also a playroom painted pink featuring all sorts of gadgets very similar to those you grew up with that Tony had made for you. Towards the back hall of the basement, it was a glass door to your father's workshop area. You open the door gently and made your way in.

Despite looking like somewhat of a mess, you knew that behind the madness there was a method. You could tell that although your dad left in a hurry, things were placed in specific spots very similarly to how he did in every other one of his workshops. You walked towards his swiveling chair, noticing a metal box with a button on the worktable. You press the button and jump back as a life-size hologram of your father appeared in the room. He began

"Hi Pepper. My love, my muse, my boss. If you are listening to this then I did the one thing you have always told me not to do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the worry I've put you through, and I am sorry for taking myself away from you. I was a gift wasn't I. You've already seen another version of this message, but it never hurts to see your face again my darling."

The tears in your eyes begin to form, not because you had not expected to see your father. At this point you had already seen the message he had left after the funeral; It was only really meant for Pepper and Morgan, never addressing you.. At the funeral you refused to enter the cabin but as you watched the message while standing outside, Happy looked over at you with remorse but you kept a straight face again. Who were you to complain at your dead dad's funeral? Yet this message radiated the same energy.

As the second portion of the message began to play tears began to fall faster. It almost feels like an out of body, sure your dad had taken up different kids during your time growing up, but this message made you feel as If you had been completely replaced. Although it felt like a dumb theory there was no evidence as to your existence prior to Morgan.

"Hello my little scientist. How's my favorite person. Daddy is really sorry I can't be there right now. Be a trooper and hug you mom for me real quick. Now you must be surprised because I'm supposed to be the strongest dad in the world but let me tell you kid, sometimes crazy things happen when put on the ironman helmet. My little minion I love you 3000. My love for you is infinite. You have been and will forever be daddy's best friend."

Here you were crying over a child who had also lost her father, filled with jealousy over the fact that you father had chosen her and failed to consider your return but had prepared for Peter's return, still had projects waiting for Harley, and had in fact set up a stable plan for Morgan's future. At this point you were sobbing, what had all felt like a bad nightmare and jumping to conclusions had started to feel way too real. This emotion was even stronger than when you watched footage from your father suit as the snap happened, this emotion felt like a stab in the back.

Maybe he never loved me.

You tried to collect yourself but were still sobbing when the holographic figure of you father disappeared. You might as well finish the house tour before leaving. The upstairs portion of the house featured Tony and Pepper's room, Morgan's room and two other doors. The main bedroom was tidy and organized, with a closet full of clothes that both Pepper and your dad had left. You walked into Morgan's room and did a quick look around, not wanting to invade child space. Returning to the hallway you opened the door to your father's office. Inside there was a rather simple with a desk, a leather chair, and two matching chairs. The plants in the room were growing well, meaning someone still came to water them. There were a few pictures on the wall, including Peter's Stark internship picture, and a random picture you took of the original Avengers after their first New York battle. On the desk there was another metal box similar to that in the workpace. You argued whether or not you wanted to potentially break your heart more before giving in, siting in the leather seat and pressing the button.

A slim beam of light scanned over your face, confirming your identity, and the box began to play. To say you were shocked is an understatement, as your father's hologram appeared across the desk sitting in one of the matching chairs.

"Hello Munchkin. If you've found this box, then I just going to have to accept that I've failed you. You've been gone for five years and regret every moment leading up to when you snapped away. You really did want to come to space with me, and honestly you would have been helpful, but I don't think I could see you Blip away and have the will to continue. That being said because I am already admitting I was wrong, I should not have had your suit take you to the bunker room, where you eventually snapped away alone. I regret that decision y constantly. On another note, I'm sorry I didn't hug you as soon as you got back, I clearly I cannot really hug anyone."

You had finally given up on holding in their tears. You didn't have to be strong in front of your dad. He had always held you when you cried and this time he couldn't. You tried to wrap your arms around yourself, but nothing felt the same.

"I hope you are crying, because if I'm crying alone during this part, I'll be embarrassed, his image continued as it stood up and leaned against the back of the chair. Munch I know you've probably walked around this house and have found no evidence of yourself. You've probably beat yourself up about how much I love Morgan, but think about it. The amount of time I've spent these last 5 years essentially idolizing you would not have been good for her to experience. "

You rose quickly from the chair. Not even one damn picture?

"Now I know you're wondering not even a single picture. Pick up the projector box and follow me ."

You did as the digital version of your father told you and followed it back into the hallway.

"Put the box down and put your hand on the center of the door. "

This activated a scanner which opened up the door to the room. As you walked in you recognized that this was an exact replica of your room back in the Malibu house. You were still a kid when the original house was blown to pieces but somehow everything was exactly as you remembered it. As you walked further into the room you noticed the large screens, placed like picture frames, which played videos and pictures of you and your dad throughout the years.

Your father walked towards the center of the room, bounded by how far the projector was.

"You see kid, me and you have somewhat the same grieving styles. I have a feeling you didn't cry at the funeral. I have a feeling you haven't cried, at least in a way that someone else could have noticed. You take after me in that sense."

The hologram started to sniffle, your dad had actually started crying when recording this. You really wanted to hug him, the reality of his death hurt even more. You had finally allowed yourself to start grieving.

"Look, I know you used to listen to the song about betting on losing dogs when you wanted to cry, but that does not apply to you at all. You may have gotten a more complicated stick of life, but I can tell ya, this does not need to be your villain origin story. From the first day I took you home I could tell you were a fighter, but I need you to feel as if its ok to cry. I've spent hours on this floor in shambles wishing you were here. The small things that Morgan does that remind me of you throw me into sadness pools constantly. You are my motivating force. I really hope you allow yourself to cry about it so that you can continue in life. I don't think I can stand in this room for any longer before I cannot speak at all, so please take the projector back to my office. "

As you lifted the projector you thought about how much this must have hurt your father to record. Maybe he didn't want anyone to encounter this box except for you. As you placed the box on the desk, you sat back into the leather chair as your father's holograph sat across from you.

"On a different note, you are probably wondering why I seemed to set up a game plan for everyone but you. With Morgan I just made sure she had a comfortable, who am I kidding, lavish funding behind her. I can't dictate what a five-year-old should do. For Harley you know that I've always looked out for him, a position in Stark industries honestly should not have surprised you. Peter is what I feel most conflicted about. I'm not setting him up to become the next Ironman, I'm setting him up to become the greatest version of Spiderman he can be. Well, I know the media is probably going to take it and run having known that Spiderman and Ironman we're friends at some point, but I'm really giving you the biggest responsibility. I don't expect you to live in my shadow, I want you to outgrow it. I think you might be surprised to see everything that I left you, besides Stark industries itself. That's a conversation for another day."

"I know I've been speaking for quite a while, but my baby, my baby yes I called you that. I know how much this has all affected you, and I'm sorry, I am completely sorry and do take full fault for it all. But now because we cannot change the past, let's focus on the present. I want you to know that I loved you with my entire being. I'm not sure how to emphasize this enough but I do want you to know you were cared for, you were loved, and you were thought about for every minute. If you don't get to see this message, and I'm already gone, that means this message will never have to play for anyone. Either I found you and I've given you a new message, or I'm rolling in my grave. Either way my darling I cannot emphasize how much I love you. I do hope for the best for. Before I have to go, I want to see you smile. Sure, I can't physically see it right now, but I can imagine it."

As the recording choked out that last sentence, you flashed a weak smile. A face sticky with all the tears that you have been crying.

Now I know you need to get back home, but when you get back to the city, stop by the shawarma place and get something to eat. you gotta eat Darling. Also don't act like you don't like Peter, you two idiots keep pushing each other away in cannot take it. Now I'm gonna say goodbye mini me. Watch over Pepper and Morgan for me, okay? I love you."

You took one final sweep of the house before heading back to your car. You had cried so much that your eyes physical hurt. You almost felt a sense of comfort having finally released some of the pent-up emotion. As you drove towards the city and towards the Shawarma place you almost felt kind of sad, knowing that all of your friends were in a foreign country. Yet you still felt as if your best friend, your Dad was watching over you. And in all reality that felt as if it was the only thing that mattered.

[andypantsx3]

in cinders | 4 | machinations

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 24,362 words / 9 chapters

summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.

tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

Kamiko was a nightmare the next morning.

She draped herself obnoxiously all over the kitchens, declaring to anyone who would listen that she had overheard a provocative rumor as she changed Countess Asui’s bedwarmer that morning. When asked, she would refuse to share, claiming it was too big to spill until everyone was gathered for the morning meal.

You let out a disinterested yawn as you rolled out the dough for Rikido’s famous morning buns. This was your favorite of your duties when you couldn’t be with Ochako, rolling out pastry crusts or--when it was for bread--shaping the dough into various knots and boules. Rikido didn’t yet trust you to mix the dough itself, but you liked kneading it and setting it into the ovens early in the morning. Leaning into the warm stone of the ovens and letting the yeasty scent of baking bread wash over you was a good way to wake up in the winter months, particularly after nights like the one before.

You hadn’t slept well, after everything. In the middle of the night you’d awoken, feeling Prince Shouto’s fingers at your sleeve. You’d sat up in bed, your blood pulsing in your ears, and stared into the darkness, listening to Ochako’s heavy breaths.

It occurred to you that you should have made her stay longer. The little time you’d spent at the ball, you’d taken too much of the prince’s attention and not nearly enough had been dedicated to her. It had been clear from the moment he’d set eyes on Ochako that he’d found her beautiful, looking her over and complimenting her necklace. Then she’d possibly run from him in shyness, and you swooped in to complicate the whole evening, sticking your foot in your mouth and almost blowing your cover.

If only you’d kept your head and forced her to stay behind, she could have asked him to a dance for real.

You gnashed your teeth, the fantasy of Princess Ochako fading before your very eyes. How were you to spend your days languishing in her chambers with a good book, calling on Kamiko for increasingly more unnecessary things now?

Finally, the swell of servants in the kitchen seemed to satisfy Kamiko’s appetite for theatrics. She stationed herself at the head of the meal table, tapping her fork on her glass to call for attention.

“I’ve heard a very interesting rumor,” she announced, and every pair of eyes snapped to her. Despite yourself, yours did too.

“Lady Asui overheard the prince last night at the ball. Apparently, he was looking high and low for a maiden who’d caught his fancy.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Kamiko continued, unwary of your inner turmoil. “He described her as a lady of unusual tastes, and from what he could tell, quite pretty.”

“Welcome, Lady Uraraka. I must compliment you on your choice of jewelry. Your necklace is quite unique and beautiful.”

Your heart shuddered back to life, pounding heavily in your chest. A warm feeling like hope blossomed within you.

Ochako. He was looking for Ochako.

The sound of your heart pumping in your chest seemed to drown out the rest of what Kamiko was saying, and you bit your lip to hold back a smile.

This was your chance to make it up to Ochako.

As discreetly as you could, you slipped out of the kitchens, bounding down the staircase to the small room you shared with her. You let yourself in, finding the room empty, and leaned down to dig beneath her mattress. Finally, you felt what you had been looking for, pulling back with her ribbon necklace in hand.

You stowed it in your apron and made your way back to the kitchens, your plan singing in your veins. There was no way for someone like you to access the prince directly, but there was a shortcut to lead him down into the kitchens and straight to Ochako.

Kamiko was still holding forth at the table when you returned, though she spared a moment to toss you a nasty glance.

You let it roll off you and you retrieved the morning buns from the oven.

You made sure to watch Rikido carefully after he returned from his breakfast, pretending to peel carrots as you stealthily observed him plating up the prince’s breakfast. None but Rikido was allowed to touch the royal family’s trays before they were carried up to their quarters, as he trusted no one but himself to arrange the food pleasingly and deliciously. But even he couldn’t watch the trays forever.

In the spare minute between when Rikido turned his back and the servers came to call, you crept surreptitiously over to the counter, tucking Ochako’s necklace carefully out of sight beneath the large morning bun on Prince Shouto’s tray.

Then you returned to the sink, picking up your carrots to begin shucking for real.

The servers came to pick up the trays, and for the next half hour you waited excitedly, watching Ochako scrubbing out pans in the corner. In only moments, you were sure, the prince would sweep into the kitchens and take her into his arms. Then they would be married, and Ochako would live happily ever after.

Only, it wasn’t the prince who turned up in the kitchens.

The door smashed open, and a squadron of the king’s guard poured into the room. Behind them, Captain Katsuki Bakugou himself stalked into the room, blood-red gaze sweeping the occupants. He exuded raw power at close range, and you understood immediately why Kaminari had been so scared to leave his post the night before.

“Everyone who touched the prince’s food this morning, line up against the wall,” he growled. The entire room stood frozen, staring at him.

“NOW!” He yelled, and like a dam breaking, everyone rushed to obey. In mere seconds, Prince Shouto’s waiter, Rikido, and another kitchen girl were up against the wall, everyone else backing away to the other side of the room. You stood frozen at the sink, too terrified to move.

Captain Bakugou turned his crimson gaze on you. “You, girl. What do you do?”

You stammered, “I clean, and I--I help bake the pastries.”

He gestured with his sword. “Up against the wall.”

You moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other kitchen maid. The king’s guardsmen stepped up to you and the other servants, and one grasped your shoulder in an unyielding hold. Then you were moving, being led out of the kitchens and up into the bright light of the castle.

Your stomach twisted like the series of halls and stairways you were ushered through.

Why had the prince sent the commander of the guard? Wasn’t he supposed to be in love with Ochako? Why hadn’t he come for her?

Before you knew it, your small group was standing before the door to the prince’s apartments. You’d never been this deep in the palace before, and everything seemed to dwarf the cramped hallways of the servants’ wing. Even the door you stood before was twice a man’s height and almost as broad across.

Captain Bakugou rapped firmly on the door and it opened inwards.

You were tugged in by the strap of your apron and thrust to your knees with the other kitchen staff.

The prince’s chambers spread out before you, so large they could fit the kitchens three times over. You looked to be in a sitting room, peppered with low tables and couches overstuffed with bright pillows. A large, ornate writing desk sat against one corner, covered in papers. On the far wall, a series of double doors lay open, leading deeper into his apartments. You caught a glance of a four postered bed deep within, covers dripping off the sides to lay crumbled on the floor like they had been kicked off in haste.

Prince Shouto himself sat on one of the couches, looking as though he’d dressed in a hurry. He was accompanied as ever by Izuku Midoriya, and at his right sat Lady Camie Utsushimi and one of her ladies-in-waiting you didn’t know.

“This is unnecessary, Bakugou,” the prince sighed in his soft tone. “It was a necklace.”

The captain snarled. “It could have just as easily been poison.”

The prince closed his gray and blue eyes. “But it wasn’t.”

Bakugou scoffed. “They try anything funny and I’ll run them straight through.”

You shivered on the floor. You felt miserably sorry to the other staff on their knees beside you, threatened with death here on the hardwood because of a stupid choice you’d made. Of course the royal guard would work themselves into a frenzy over something in the prince’s food. Why hadn’t you thought this through?

Prince Shouto turned to the four of you, holding up a familiar pink pearl necklace. “I found this on my tray this morning. I believe it belongs to a lady I met at the ball last night. I promise you no trouble if any of you come forward with information.”

If ever the time to speak up were to come, it would be now. But found yourself holding your tongue, eyeing Captain Bakugou’s sharp sword.

You looked up into the faces of the prince’s companions. Lady Utsushimi’s eyes were wandering carefully between the faces of the staff, and she seemed to stop in surprise when her gaze flicked to you.

You felt yourself stiffen under the guardsman’s hands.

“Please,” the prince continued. “She has a companion who I must find. She seemed rather insistent that I talk with the lady to whom this necklace belongs. Did she ask any of you to place this on my tray?”

Your heart leapt into your throat. He was talking about you. Dear god, he was talking about you.

What had you done to make him so keen to find you? Had it been the rough way you spoke to him or the stomping on his toes? Did he guess that you were a servant acting above your station? What was he going to do once he found you? Was Captain Bakugou here to deliver the prince’s justice upon you?

A silver ribbon appeared in the prince’s clever fingers. “Last night, she was wearing a blue dress with these about her sleeves. Camie tells me she might go by Lady Ito. Have any of you seen her?”

You looked up into his handsome face, feeling sick. Please don’t say Kamiko’s full name, please don’t say it. Not in front of the staff.

“Your highness,” Rikido’s shaky voice came from beside you, “I was the last to touch your tray. The fault of this is mine. I will accept any punishment you see befitting of my inattention.”

In the corner of your vision, Bakugou’s sword hand twitched. Rikido was going to get himself killed!

Before you could think, you had shot to your feet. “Please, it wasn’t him! It was me!"

Then the reality of your words washed over you and you quickly backpeddled, "I mean - I was the last to touch your tray. I - I sprinkled more sugar over your bun while his back was turned. But I swear, none of us were asked to add this to your tray!”

The prince’s cool gaze turned on you. You stared back, heart hammering.

If you made it through this alive, you were never trying something this stupid again.

His eyes wandered over you slowly, and you felt your face burn. You hoped your mask had covered enough of you last night that he saw nothing familiar to him. You hoped the sight of you now, covered in flour and carrot shavings, was enough to throw off any suspicions.

“Tell us, why should the prince believe you?” Lady Utsushimi’s attendant spoke up. Her tone was high and cruel. “It’s clear that one of you must have done it.”

You swallowed. You pitched your voice a little lower to hide it, now that the prince’s attentions were on you and you were thinking a little more clearly. “If I touched the tray while Rikido’s back was turned, there’s no reason why someone else couldn’t have done the same. Perhaps they were laying in wait.”

The lady sniffed, but Prince Shouto held up a hand.

“If I’m to trust your word, I’d like you all to swear to it,” he said.

You nodded, and other kitchen staff quickly did as well.

“You swear that no one asked you to add this necklace to my tray?”

Your voices blended together as you answered, “I swear it, highness.”

I wasn’t asked. I added it myself.

After that, the purpose seemed to drain from the prince’s lean form, and he waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your morning. Captain Bakugou, please return them to the kitchens.”

Bakugou made an angry noise, but the guardsmen picked your fellow servants up off the floor to their feet and ushered you to the doorway. Your blood rushed in your veins as you stepped back through the massive doors, staring fixedly at Rikido’s back ahead of you.

As the doors closed, however, you swore you could sense a pair of eyes boring into your back.

[minijenn]

Keys Comm #6

Finally! The last baby of the bunch! This is another one for @rosie-drawss, who wanted a third part to the sort of ongoing series I've been writing for her in which Sora is brought back to the lights early in Keys. So if you wanna catch up to what the heck is going on here, I suggest you read:

Part 1

Part 2

Before reading this one! And with that, enjoy some family feels!

***

Sora sleeps far longer than Riku and Kairi do--understandably so for someone who’s gone without sleep for as long as he has. They lay in bed alongside him for a long time after they awaken, soaking in the peaceful silence as they both watch Sora peacefully sleep in between them. In many ways, it's almost too good to be true, like a dream they’ve both been having for such a long time now, finally coming true before their eyes. But this isn’t a dream; this is real. Sora is really here, really back in the space between them, back in their reach after so many months away. And even if it isn’t perfect, even if there’s still so much that needs to be done to truly save him, they still savor this moment for all its worth. They still savor being with him, even more now than they did before.

The quiet calm of their morning is soon interrupted by a soft knock on the door. It’s enough to finally wake Sora up at least to some degree as he lets out a tired groan, rolling over as he shoves his head under his pillow, muttering “five more minutes’, much to Riku and Kairi’s shared amusement. In the end, however, Riku is the one to encourage whoever’s at the door to enter, eliciting another loud moan of protest from Sora.

“Sorry,” Aqua whispers with a small smile as she pokes her head in. “We wanted to wait as long as we could to let you three get all the rest you need. But…” she smiles as she fully enters, toting a tray laden with pancakes, eggs, fruit, and hot drinks. “I did bring breakfast, if that makes up for it.”

Before either Riku or Kairi can thank her, Sora suddenly sits up, still clearly half asleep as he takes in a whiff of the appetizing meal Aqua brought in. “Did somebody say breakfast…?” he asks with a drowsy, hungry smile.

The others all get a good laugh out of this as Aqua sets the tray up for the trio, allowing them to eat it in bed as she prepares to leave to let them enjoy it in private. “Take your time, but as soon as you’re done, head on up to Master Yen Sid’s study,” she instructs. “He’s called a special meeting so we can talk about… e-everything.”

The trio’s mood quickly shifts at this, all three of them tensing up as they exchange apprehensive glances. Sora’s is by far the most anxious as he looks between Riku and Kairi, his fear palpable enough that they can both practically feel it themselves. Which is why they both rush to quell that fear as quickly as they can. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Riku assures.

“Yeah, we can always tell them you wanted to get more sleep,” Kairi adds just as supportively.

“...Well, that’s not really a lie,” Sora manages a smile, though it's soon broken as he lets out a long, loud yawn. “I… kind of have a lot of that I need to catch up on…”

“I’ll let the others know then,” Aqua says with an understanding smile. “Also, Sora, your mother wanted to know if you were up to a visit later on. She said she could be up right after she finishes cleaning the kitchen from making breakfast.”

“I figured these pancakes were hers,” Sora notes with a small smile. “Yeah, you can send her up. But I can’t promise I won’t be asleep by the time she gets here.”

“You can sleep after you eat,” Kairi grabs him by the arm before he can ease himself back under the covers. “And we’re not leaving until you’ve finished every last bite.”

“Alright, ‘Mom’,” Sora jokes as he takes the plate she’s offering him.

“Better curb that sass,” Riku says just as playfully. “Or we’ll tell your real mom.”

“Aw, come on, you guys,” Sora grins between bites of breakfast. “We’re not little kids anymore.”

“Then stop acting like one and eat your breakfast already!” Kairi shoots back as Sora sticks his tongue out at her.

Aqua leaves the room as their “argument” continues, laughing quietly to herself as she closes the door behind her. “I have a feeling that no matter what happens next,” she says to herself, hope filling her heart where there was little the night before. “Those three will be just fine now that they’re together again…”

***

Most of the meeting is largely a blur for Riku and Kairi. They stand toward the back of the study, solemnly listening to the guidance Yen Sid has to offer for their most pertinent plight. Occasionally, one of them will pitch in, largely for the sake of updating the others on Sora’s status based on what they’d seen this morning and last night. But other than that, they say nothing, allowing the others to debate on what they need to do and where they need to go next. Eventually though, they have no choice but to weigh in on the conversation, especially when the inevitable question finally arises.

“So… is there any way we can stop what’s happening to Sora?” Naminé is the one to ask it when she senses that Riku and Kairi are both far too anxious to.

Yen Sid is silent for a long time and the others all largely hold their breath as they wait to hear his verdict. In the end, however, it isn’t exactly one any of them were hoping for. “I’m sorry to say that there is no method to setting Sora’s heart free that I have been able to find in my extensive studies,” he informs them, his eyes shut and his tone pensive. “But that does not mean there is no hope in saving him. It simply means that we must resort to cutting down the darkness invading his heart at its very source.”

“Then it looks like our mission hasn’t changed,” Riku speaks up gravely. He pauses for a moment when he senses another nightmare about to befall Sora, one that he swiftly chases away so that he can continue sleeping in peace. But the mere audacity of that nightmare’s attempt at getting to him at all is enough to sharpen what Riku has to say next even more. “We have to defeat Xehanort, no matter what it takes. Even if there’s even just a chance that taking him out will set Sora’s heart free, it's a chance we need to take.”

“But… what about the rest of the Keys?” Mickey asks. “There’s still several more we need to find before the Organization does, and now that we have Sora back, they’re bound to try and take him away from us too.”

“If they’re dumb enough to to try that, then they better be ready to deal with every last one of us,” Roxas hisses, more than resolved to keep his other safe.

“That’s right,” Aqua readily agrees. “We’ll protect Sora and we’ll find those last few Keys. Even if we have to go our separate ways to do it.”

“No,” Riku counters, shaking his head. “Splitting up has never worked well for us before. That’s how we lost Sora in the first place. We need to stay together from here on out. We need to be a team.”

“So… what? Are we all just gonna cram together onto that tiny ship every time we need to go somewhere?” Axel asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “I like all of you guys well enough, but I don’t know about getting that close into everyone else’s personal space.”

“We don’t have to use the Gummi Ship,” Kairi suggests. “I can summon light gates we can travel through. They might be an even faster way of getting around, which is a good thing if we want to find those Keys as soon as we can.”

“The sooner we get them, the sooner we can confront Xehanort and hopefully put a stop to all of this,” Terra points out.

“But is it really safe for us to take Sora with all of us?” Ventus asks, worried.

“Even if we’re all together, then the Organization could just as easily come together to attack all of us to try and take him away,” Xion adds just as fretfully. “And if we can’t protect him from them, then-”

“Aw, phooey!” Donald suddenly snaps. “If they wanna get their hands on Sora, then they’ve gotta go through us first!”

“Yup!” Goofy boldly chimes in. “We’re not about to let anyone else, not Maleficent, not the Organization, not even Xehanort himself, take him away from us ever again!”

“No, we won’t,” Riku nods, resolute. “And not only are we going to keep Sora safe, we’re going to make him feel safe too. When I found him last night, he was so… terrified. I’ve never seen him like that before, and to be honest, I don’t want to see him like that again. He’s not just scared of what’s happening to him. He’s scared of the possibility that he might accidentally hurt any one of us too. That’s why we have to make sure he knows that won’t happen. He’s safe here, with us, and it's up to each and every one of us to help him really believe that.”

The others all immediately agree to do exactly that, to help Sora ease his way back into the fold of family and friends he’s spent such a long time running from. To help him feel like he’s finally back to where he truly belongs. As the others begin brainstorming ways to help provide him with that comfort, Riku and Kairi exchange a small smile, glad that they have such reliable friends who are all every bit as dedicated to Sora as they are. Glad that they aren’t alone in wanting to not only set his heart free, but helping it heal as well, no matter how long that healing might take.

“Do you want to fill Sora in on the game plan or should I?” Kairi whispers, aside.

Riku shakes his head, his steady smile widening as he takes in the air of warm earnesty spread by his fellow lights. “We’ll all tell him,” he says simply. “Together, just like how we’re going to be from here on out.”

***

Himari is nothing if not an incredibly patient woman. She’s waited for her son to return to her before, waited to hear any sort of word on where he is or how he’s doing, waited for Riku to bring him back as soon as she arrived at the tower last night. And now, she waits for her son to awaken from his slumber, a soft, if not somewhat sad smile resting on her face as she hums the lullaby his father used to sing to him, stroking a gentle hand through his mostly white hair.

“Oh Sora…” she whispers, more to herself than to him. “I know you said I have nothing to be sorry about, but… I can’t stop thinking about how different things would be if I had just kept you home… If I never let you leave then… m-maybe… maybe you wouldn’t be…” She cuts herself off as she fringes on a sob that she only narrowly suppresses. “What kind of mother am I?” she shakes her head, forlorn. “I can’t even do a single thing to help my son when he needs it most… If only you were here, Ki…” Tears finally slip down her cheeks as her fingertips ever so softly skim the crown charm resting around Sora’s neck, a necklace that used to belong to her husband before him. “You’d know what to do about this. And even if you didn’t… at least you’d know what to say to make me feel better about it…”

Himari starts, a surprised gasp slipping out of her when Sora suddenly lets out a small laugh. “C’mon, Mom, Dad was never the one who knew what to say,” he remarks as he opens his eyes, smiling as he sits up in bed. “He always used to say you had ‘a way with words’ or something like that. I never got what he meant back then but I-” He stops himself, his casual manner falling to pieces when he meets his mother’s tearful gaze. She forces back those tears as best she can, a hand held over her mouth as she struggles to be strong for him… and fails miserably at it all the same. “P-please, Mom,” Sora implores her as steadily as he can. “Don’t cry. I don’t want to… I-I’ve already cried so much by now a-and if you cry then I know I will--even if I try to stop myself, I can never stop myself anymore--and I just-”

Himari cuts him off abruptly when she throws her arms around him, pulling him into yet another tight, yet comforting hug. “I’m not crying about that,” she tells him in a whisper. “I… it’s just… it’s been such a long time since I last saw you. You’ve grown so much in just a year… I’ve missed out on so much…”

Sora sighs, his guilt growing to the point that he soon finds he can contain it no longer. It pours out of him the same way his tears do, rapid and remorseful as he struggles to say everything he knows he needs to, everything he knows he owes her after how long he’s been gone. “Mom, I… I’m so sorry… When all of this started to become… t-too much for me, I wanted to come home, just like you told me to, but I was so scared that you wouldn’t want me if you saw me like… like this, so I ran and I-”

“Oh, Sora, sweetie, no,” Himari cuts him off, her voice soft and kind. “Even if you do look different, even if you have changed… you’re still you… You’re still my son, a-and I still love you so, so much, Sora… Please,” she pulls away, still holding his face in her hands as she offers him a tearful smile that’s as bright and warm as the sun itself. “Don’t ever forget that…”

“I-I… I won’t…” Sora says, despite his amazement, despite his awe that she could still love him after he’s strayed so far from home, so far away from her. But she loves him all the same, every bit as much as he loves her, and for as safe and secure as that love makes him feel here and now, that’s something he has no intentions of letting go of again anytime soon.

It isn’t long after this that a knock sounds at the door. Sora and Himari compose themselves quickly before Riku and Kairi enter first, though the other lights soon file in after them. The bedroom is a rather small one, but they all cram in to make space, each of them wearing hopeful smiles as they prepare to share their newfound plan with Sora. A plan that they have the utmost faith in, despite how uncertain everything else surrounding it might seem.

“So we’ve decided that we’re all going to look for the last few Keys together,” Kairi begins brightly. “And that you’re coming with us, Sora.”

“If you want to, that is,” Riku quickly cuts in, knowing the last thing he wants is to force Sora to do something he’s not comfortable with. Not now when he’s still clearly struggling to trust them all again. “If you don’t, that’s fine. We can always take you and Himari back to the islands, and a few of us can stay behind to make sure the Organization doesn’t-”

“No,” Sora interrupts. He stops briefly, offering his mother an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, Mom…” he whispers to her. “But… I have to go again. They won’t be able to find those Keys without me, they need my help, I-”

“I know,” Himari says with a sad, tired sigh, far more used to this than she knows she should be. “Just… come home to me quickly this time, ok?”

He smiles when she skims the side of his face again, her gentle, loving touch a comfort he can’t help but cherish after having gone without it for so long. “I will. As soon as we have that last Key, I’ll be home on the islands with you again. I promise.”

Himari nods, accepting that promise as she offers a hand to help him stand. “I’m going with you,” he tells the other lights, his tone as determined as it can be. “I-I want to go with you,” he corrects himself, not wanting to sound like he’s doing it out of obligation. Even if he is. “I’m sorry I ran away before, but… I want to be a part of the team again, i-if you’ll have me, after… everything.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Axel speaks up with a small, incredulous laugh. “We weren’t much of a team at all without you around.”

“You were our missing piece, Sora,” Ventus adds, smiling kindly. “You’re the one who helped bring us all together to begin with. We wouldn’t have stopped until we brought you back too.”

“So quit feeling sorry for yourself already,” Roxas teases, crossing his arms. “And just accept the fact that we all missed you way more than you thought, ok?”

“And that we’re all so glad you’re finally back safe and sound,” Naminé chimes in warmly.

“And that we’re gonna stick right by your side,” Goofy concurs.

“No matter what the Organization might do to stop us!” Donald pipes up resiliently.

Sora can’t help but let out a small, practically elated chuckle at their shared enthusiasm. As he realizes just how wrong everything his master had told him had been. As he realizes just how much his friends really do care after all if they’re willing to go to such great lengths solely for him. “So,” he says, looking to Riku and Kairi as he takes the hands they’re both extending out toward him. “I guess we’re doing this together then?”

“Yeah,” Kairi smiles as Sora slips his hand into hers, more than ready to embark on whatever journey awaits them next.

Riku does the same when he takes Sora’s other hand, determined to do everything in his power, to give anything he has to just to make sure he’ll never have to let him go ever again. “Together.”

Commissions are Closed!

[mercuryislove]

1, 4, and 9 (for whichever story, I’m not picky 😊)

because I'm unable to shut up about anything ever I answered two for each..... I hope that's okay lol

1. Which character is most devoted to another character? Is that character equally devoted to them?

This is hard to say because undying devotion is like. my thing. I'm obsessed with devotion, especially when it morphs into something beyond loyalty and dedication. (basically I'm obsessed with the idea of love driving people to insanity lol I could talk about that shit for days) UM. If I had to pick just one, I would say probably the way Andhira (and her brother and mother) is devoted to the Sovereign. It's kind of a cop out and also kind of contradicts the fact that Andhira like. tried to get him killed once to take his place (listen, a thousand years is a long time. Of course there's going to be insane family drama. Give her a break), but she loves him. They all love him. He's the reason they exist. He's the reason there are any vampires left at all. He's the primary reason that the world hasn't torn itself apart in spite of it all. She would do anything for him. She would fall on her sword a thousand times if he asked. Even if he didn't ask. If she thought that was what he wanted, she would do it. And he absolutely is as devoted to her. If not more so. Everything he has ever done was for her. (well. Technically everything he has ever done was for Tahire, but like. bear with me.) He would give up anything for his daughter without a second thought because she is the reason he lives on despite well..... not always wanting to. He would gladly live forever if that was what would make her happiest, but he would die at a moment's notice too.

Honorable mention also to the devotion between Ciaran and Anwei because um. Imagine living through hell together and being the only thing the other has and growing to resent that you're the only thing the other has and then coming to understand that your resentment was only misguided loneliness and misery and heartbreak over so much lost and ultimately finding peace with each other through that fact.

--

4. Are there any characters who don't realize just how strongly another character feels about them, whether those feelings be positive or negative? Over the course of the story, does anything make them realize? If so, what?

LMAO well. Vera and Andhira really fucking hate each other. Until they don't. They definitely hate each other initially for good reasons. They both are a paragon of what the other hates most. Vera hates Andhira because vampires ruined her entire fucking life (even if she personally had nothing to do with it), and Andhira hates Vera because humankind has spent thousands of years trying to wipe vampires off the face of the earth (even if half the time vampires are the ones who called for the hunts). Over time, they both learn that their preconceived notions of each other's lives are mostly false, and that they... kind of directed their hatred at the wrong targets lol

Honorable mention goes to Yixing being like “damn okay I only thought Ciaran was like. in love with me or whatever. Not that he wanted to burn down the world in my name to keep my delicate mortal body safe.” He didn't realize shit was getting out of hand until it was too late ._. I mean. It's not his fault because nobody else did either and Ciaran made a series of very logical leaps and bounds from “okay I will do anything to keep you safe” to, um “I'm going to rip the soul out of every person who has ever or could ever hurt you and I will find the only god left and I will rip out her soul too for good fucking measure because it will make me better at keeping you safe.” Like. We've all been there lol

--

9. Are there any two characters who pretend to feel differently about each other than they do? Does anything force them to reveal their real feelings?

Um lol Vera lies to everyone about how she absolutely most certainly does NOT care for Andhira in any way because “she's so. Ugh. Like. What? No. I hate her. I mean, yes I did return to the job I swore I'd never do again because she broke into my house and asked me very nicely and because we both share horrific nightmares. The fact that she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen has nothing to do with it. It's actually because my uncles told me I should help her. Nothing to do with anything else. Did I mention she fucking sucks. Blood. Get it? She's a vampire and I hate her.” It doesn't take long for either of them to warm up to each other but they're both super in denial about it for a whole host of reasons, and what finally happens is that (in dramatic gay fashion of course) Andhira basically takes a bullet for Vera, and she's all upset thinking she's been grievously injured and is like “why tf would you risk your life for me? I thought you fucking hated me” and Andhira is like. “Well. I did it because I'm virtually impervious to harm but also why do you think I hate you? I care about you, even if you're a huge asshole to me at every turn” and then they're both like. hm. Maybe we don't hate each other as much as we thought we did. And we were just keeping up appearances because we thought the other still felt that way.

And my honorable mention goes to my closeted gay climbing girl Wren who thinks she is just very good friends with her supremely dykey world-famous climbing friend. She doesn't realize that like. it isn't just friendship until they're climbing together and Ulli offers to tie her in because she's already chalked up (which. Having someone tie you in or untie your rope before/after a climb is like. unbelievably intimate lol yes I speak from experience). And they're both looking at each other like. um. is anyone else getting a gay vibe?

[sinnhelmingr]

reposting from the old blog. not reblogging bc of the user who sent in the initial ask, so i’m rephrasing this from a meme response to a standalone meta on hel, mental health, and the ability to reach out for help.

Hel’s mental health is NOT GREAT. Her life is pretty much a series of distractions from her hopeless situation and the toll it takes on her health, physically and mentally. She is a carefully crafted facade that keeps all her varying issues buried so deeply they cannot possibly surface and fuck her over.

Her entire being is a creature of composure that she grew behind closed doors to serve others first and her own negativity never. And that’s a nightmare existence, especially because whenever the mask starts to crack, she either further isolates or turns to alcohol. Sometimes a combination of both. She is on record saying that alcohol makes the world more tolerable, which is just the tip of the iceberg.

She would have to admit to having internal problems in order to be diagnosed, so no, she is not presently diagnosed with anything. That said, she’s struggling when others aren’t looking.

Depression is a major issue, exacerbated by her dour and dim surroundings, which she can find some relief from in simply leaving her realm for a time. Even then, she is bound to Helheim, and can never truly be free of it. It also tends to surface whenever she has a bad physical flare up, when her nerves start to fray or she is confined to bed.

Anxiety is another major issue with her, though one she carefully covers. You see this most often in how she approaches those who try to get close to her, terrified of being seen for what she is, terrified of not being good enough, and going out of her head with worry that she never truly be able to hold on to anyone, or that people will be hurt for their association with her.

PTSD is the real silent killer here, and her trauma is always hanging over her. It colors every relationship she reaches friendship or beyond. She lives in constant fear that somehow, she will be made to lose again. Someone will be hurt because of her. Someone will leave her, whether willingly or by choice. She’s never going to get out from under the fate of her family, especially when avenging that trauma is stated to be the purpose her entire life is working towards. PTSD feeds into pretty much every other struggle she has mentally. It’s the undercurrent that tugs at every other facet of her mental health, even if it’s not outwardly displaying as such.

Depersonalization and derealization can serve to break her as well, this feeling that she is detached from this life she was forced to lead, or feeling that none of it is real. She is alive among the dead. She is in a place with its own logic and laws. And when her stress reaches its boiling point, her mind simply lets her disconnect to cope. This is happening to someone else, and she is merely the audience. This is happening to her, but she is only an actor on a stage, and soon she will be led back to the real world once the play is done.

Hel projects, and she projects hard. She buries her self-loathing such that she doesn’t present weakness, but she’s very eager to display it in what she thinks of others. Others, she thinks, must see her as she won’t admit she sees herself. You see this especially with her parents – She thinks Angrboda must be disappointed in her, this daughter of a she-wolf who allowed herself to be tamed by the work of the Aesir. She is sure that Loki should hate for all the years she spent doubting him under Odin’s influence. She hates herself, and her weaknesses, and she pushes it upon those that love her. She can’t grasp their unconditional love, cannot see how she deserves it, so she flips it to her own personal narrative of how she should be perceived by those she thinks she failed.

Sublimation is taken to the point of martyrdom for Hel. She does not get angry, she gets clever. She does not get upset, she removes herself from the situation. While these are good coping mechanisms, Hel uses it to the point of denying any negative feelings whatsoever. She does not express anger or sorrow for her own circumstances. She thinks this was the downfall of Sigyn’s sons, and so she has stifled it so tightly that the feelings cannot even be understood any longer. And that is unhealthy, no matter what she might use as alternatives. Anger and sadness are natural emotions, and she refuses to see them as anything but a way to surrender control.

At this point, anything is better than Hel’s grin and bear it attitude. Therapy would be an absolute miracle for someone like her, but that would mean admitting there is a problem and letting someone else in – something her various issues have barred her from doing for so long.

[mshermia]

LYKHIW Timeline - WIP Page

Welcome! This post records the status and progress of my work expanding my Post-Endgame (MCU) series to “Like You’d Know How It Works”.

I left the cinema post-Endgame incredibly mad and disappointed. After I aired my immediate frustration with the movie in two One-Shots, I decided for my own peace of mind, I had to try and salvage the mess that was Endgame somehow, because I simply like the characters too much, not to. A week after I started writing, I published the first chapter on AO3. About a year later, I felt the need to expand on the original fix-it. I have and will continue to add to this timeline, writing different adventures that will mostly focus on Tony Stark and Peter Parker.

Genre: MCU fanfiction

The Fix-It

Like You’d Know How It Works (completed)

Setting: sets in right after the battle at the Compound is over, supersedes the concluding events of Endgame.

Premise: Straight after the battle is won - or lost, depending on your perspective - Peter tries to convince the Avengers to save Mr. Stark by going back into the Quantum Realm.

Tropes: time-travel, quantum realm, protective Peter

Mood: grief & loss, hope, family

Someone had organized this room at Metro General hospital for them to sit and talk. Sitting was not an option for Peter though. He couldn’t bear to sit. He couldn’t bear to have anyone look at his injuries either, not when there were more pressing matters to attend to.

“You said that whatever we do in the past will not change our present!” Peter’s fist hit the table with a crash. They simply weren’t listening. His face felt grimy and tight in places where the dirt from the battlefield stuck to the tears he had cried over Mr. Stark’s body. Maybe he should have thought of washing the traces off his face before confronting a few of the Avengers and Doctor Strange. It might have made him seem a little more collected. A little more rational. “That’s what you just said!”

Chapters 9/9 | 42 K | Teen and Up

Follow-up Shorts and Multi-chapters

Just Outside The Door (completed)

Setting: Days after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise: Peter did it. He found his mentor and brought him back, but sometimes it all just seemed too good to be true. Sometimes, his mind played tricks on him and he just couldn’t sleep, wondering if he had really brought Mr. Stark back or if it had all just been a desperate dream.

Tropes: nightmares, PTSD, protective Tony, Whumptober 2020: No. 23

Mood: fear, working through trauma, comfort

There was only silence in his room now unless you were to count the frantic beat of his heart and the deep shaky breaths he sucked in and blew back out. It hadn’t even been a nightmare this time, not truly. He hadn’t really fallen asleep in the first place. Exhaustion was tugging at the edges of his consciousness and that’s where his thoughts had started to spiral.

Mr. Stark was okay. Peter was… he was pretty sure of that. He had succeeded, had brought him back home and now he was okay. But there was a little voice in the back of his head that kept nagging, that kept telling him that maybe… maybe he was wrong. Maybe it had all been a delusional dream, too good to be true, Peter wishing something into reality that was unobtainable. He had seen his mentor die after all. He had died right in front of him, the memory etched into his memory, right there whenever he closed his eyes. Dimensions, time travel… was that really real?

Chapters 1/1 | 4.2 K | Teen and Up

Nothing Left To Lose (in progress)

Setting: 2 weeks after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

The reversal of the Snap added an additional 3.5 billion people back to Earth’s population. 3.5 billion more people to house somewhere, 3.5 billion mouths to be fed, 3.5 billion people who return to a world that was not expecting them to ever come back.

Tropes: food shortage, starvation, looting, blurred lines of good and evil; Whumptober 2020: No. 3

Mood: anger, desperation, conflicted who to help 

Tony groaned, rolling his stiff neck from one side to the other as the gate clicked shut behind Pepper. “Remind me again… Why did we agree to this?”

Pepper didn’t bother to send him a scolding look as she wrapped the security seal around the gate’s locking mechanism. “Because we’re good neighbors?”

“We are?” He smelled like damp fur. When did wet fur and barn animals become his life? “Since when exactly? Was there a house meeting? Did I miss it?”

“Mh… do you need a reminder of the process of negotiation?” She took a step towards him, one hand twisted in his shirt pulling him close against her, their lips almost close enough to touch. “You smell like wet alpaca.”

He pulled in an affronted gasp. The hand that was still holding his shirt pushed him away from her, her lips stretched wide in amusement. “Come on, Cesar. Maybe I’ll remind you after a hot shower.”

Chapters 1/2 | 3.4 K | Teen and Up

Unnamed WIP (unpublished)

Setting: 4 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

For months, Peter has been commuting between the city and the Stark’s remote cabin in the woods. But now that life in NYC has regained some normalcy, he really wants to show Morgan what the greatest city in the world has to offer.

Tropes: power outage, panic attack, PTSD; Whumptober 2020: No. 27

Nope. “Not going down that rabbit-hole, Parker,” he muttered to himself.

“What rabbit-hole?” Morgan was sitting opposite him, munching on the cookies Pepper had put out.

“Nevermind.” Peter scooped two tea spoons of sugar into his coffee, then added another one just to be safe.

“Mommy says coffee corrupts the soul.”

“Please, like you even know what ‘corrupt’ means….”

Morgan tilted her head to the side, just like her mom would do. “I know it’s not nice.”

Peter gave her a look. “Well, your dad says it’s the elixir of life.” And Mr. Stark would know. Peter gave his head one hard shake. Tony. Tony would know. One sip of the black brew and Peter’s teeth hurt. Definitely too much sugar. “Okay, remember what we talked about?”

Morgan sat up straight, her eyes wide. “Ask mommy first!”

“That’s right! Make sure you use those puppy eyes, too.” Morgan nodded along enthusiastically while he quickly nicked her glass of milk and poured a generous potion of it into his mug. “We wait till, you know, till Tony’s gone downstairs or something and then—”

“And then you’ll ask me what?”

Chapters -/2 | - K | Teen and Up

Christmas Eve - At Peace (completed)

Setting: 5 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

Just a couple of months after they defeated Thanos, Tony and Pepper throw a Christmas party. Instead of a partying kid, Tony finds his Spiderling outside in the snow at the grave he has been trying to ignore ever exists.

Tropes: anger and grief, blame and fear, no prompt

Mood: wholesome, family, frustration

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "I mean it!" For good measure, he took a healthy gulp from the cup, positively burning his throat in the process. But it wasn't until Harley threw his hands in the air and turned his back in defeat - for now - that Tony allowed his face to cringe at the sting. Those little trouble makers were not helping with his heart condition. Speaking of trouble... "Where is Peter?"

Harley crossed his arms in front of himself, his mind clearly brooding on a new strategy. "No clue."

Tony's next sip of the hot wine was a lot smoother than the first. "What do you mean, no clue?"

"It generally means that the person doesn't have any information about the subject that you are—"

"Alright, short stuff..." Tony's eyes were searching the room but the little spider was nowhere to be seen. "A bit less of the asshole routine please?"

"Listen, if you want me to babysit, same rules apply as they do for Morgan." Brazen in his brattiness, the little shit ladled a good helping of mulled wine into a new cup. "I'll need a heads-up and generous compensation that I'm happy to re-negoti— Hey!"

Harley tried to hold on to the cup that Tony once again just plucked from his hands. "You've had enough of this!"

"That one is for Rhodey," the boy scowled.

Chapters 1/1 | 3.8 K | Teen and Up

The Winter Air (completed)

Setting: 6 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

Tony, Peter, and Morgan spent a winter day outside the Stark residence.

Tropes: accident, hurt Tony, hurt Peter, Whumptober 2020: No. 13

Mood: fun to fear, injury, accusations, blame

Well, it wasn’t that easy. Because things were apparently never just easy in the life of one Peter Parker. Turned out, there were still some assholes out there. Not the Thanos-kind. Not for now at least. The regular kind though and Peter for one saw absolutely no reason as to why anything should have changed in his responsibility to stop them from being assholes.

His aunt somehow disagreed more often than she didn’t. Annoyingly now though, she managed to drag Mr. Stark to her side a lot more than she used to, too.

Peter shook his head at himself. Tony. T-O-N-Y. It wasn’t that hard, was it? He still slipped up every so often. But as much as that bugged him, it was the others who bugged him even more. Colonel Rhodes and Hawkeye among them the most willing to tease Peter about it. Him, and Tony too, for his mentor never commented on it with more than a crooked smile. When it was just the two of them, that was often the only indication for Peter, that he had said it again.

It made the times when it really was just them so enjoyable. A new ease between them. They had never had this, this kind of bonding. Sure, they’d spent time together before everything had gone downhill on their little space adventure, in the lab or on a normal earth-bound mission. Not like this though, not like Peter staying over at the Stark residence for a few days at a time. Not like him sliding along-side Morgan on the ice on the lake, trying to catch Tony. Not like Morgan falling over and taking Tony right with her and the way Peter’s stomach hurt from laughing so hard when Mr. Stark’s sweet little Morguna drowsed him with two full hands of snow and he just hadn’t seen it coming.

Chapters 3/3 | 14 K | Teen and Up

Unnamed Multichapter WIP (unpublished)

Setting: picks up where The Winter Air ended, 6 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

First time all of the Avengers come together after the Snap was reversed. With Tony retired, Peter has to find his place in the team and learn to work with the other Avengers without Tony. Tensions are running high with the events of Civil War still largely unresolved and lingering resentments stemming from Peter’s multidimensional rescue mission to save Tony.

Tropes: Avengers mission, mistrust, growing as a team; Whumptober 2020: No.7

Tony’s eyes went wide. Was it possible that…

“Hey, FRI?”

“Good morning, boss. It’s 10:16 am on February 5th, 2024. The temperature outside is—”

“Yeah, just… can you stop for a moment?” He waved her off. “Send Dory out to the lake, would you. There’s some stuff still lying out there on the ice.”

“Right away, Sir.”

Tony watched as the little blue drone circled the lake, getting closer and closer to what he was sure were the Spiderling’s clothes still lying out there, where he had taken them off to—

“Hey, what are you doing out of bed!”

Despite himself, he twitched as Pepper made her way into the room. She had pushed the door open with her hip, balancing his breakfast on a large wooden tablet.

“Here, let me—” Tony stepped towards her, arms at the ready to take the tablet but she held it out of his reach.

“What do you think you’re doing? Get back in that bed!”

Chapters -/- | - K | Teen and Up

There... And Back Again (in progress)

Setting: about a year after Tony was brought back to life

Premise:  The Starks drive upstate to the old Mansion where Tony grew up. To Tony’s horror, the trip takes him and the kids a lot further down memory lane than anyone could have predicted.

Tropes: time travel, Howard Stark’s A++ parenting; Febuwhum2021 Day 12 - Who Are You

“Pete, seriously…” Tony looked up into the review mirror trying to catch his eye. “Can you not? I don’t want Morgan up all night, terrified of some dumb ghosts.”

“Come on, it’s just a story, Tony. Morgan knows I made it all up, right?” Peter winked at her, then wiggled his eyebrows in a way that seemed kind of familiar.

“Yeah, daddy.” But Morgan was full-on ignoring Tony, her eyes on Peter trying to imitate the wink and wiggly eyebrows he had just sent her way. “It’s just a story.”

He could do little more than groan as Peter continued to spin a tale of spirits and witches, ancient pacts and promises that had to be kept, ransoms that the spirits had vowed to retrieve.

“It was a night very much like tonight,” Peter continued, his voice low and full of dreadful foreboding, “that the witches broke that pact they had signed with the blood of the innocent…”

“Morgan’s gasp morphed into a giddy giggle while Tony could only rub a hand across his brow and mumbled, "Blood of the innocent, give me a fucking break…”

Chapters 1/3 | 4,4 K | Teen and Up

Are We Out Of The Woods Yet?, (completed)

Setting: 4 years after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

 Peter takes Morgan into the depths of a National Park so she can collect samples for a biology project.

Tropes: Peter & Morgan, protective Peter, hurt Morgan, hurt Peter, Whumptober 2020: No. 12

Mood: disappointment, mistakes, anger, angst, comfort

“There are so many reasons why online classes are better than going to school.”

Peter shook his head. “And there are plenty of reasons why learning in school with other students is preferable. How it helps retain the material better than—”

Morgan groaned without even looking at him, her nose in the air, eyes on the leafy trees above them. “You can learn the same things at home, only then you could have dinner at night with us instead of in your stinky room in Boston.”

“Hey,” he craned his neck to see where she went, then walked after her. “My room doesn’t stink.”

“It’s a boy’s room.” She said it like that alone was a valid argument, when it couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, the girl’s dorms he had been in—

He stopped himself. Not the time and place.

Chapters 2/2 | 8 K | Teen and Up

[fanfalc-616]

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Twelve

(Prevoius chapter here)

(Discord Here)

Happy 10th Anniversary!!

Kai is done. He so fucking done with this shit.

He’s getting Zane out, and he’s getting him out right this very minute. It’s already been a month and a half, he’s not going to wait for some long term plan, not when he could be busting Zane out right now!

Kai had spent days and days studying every government file he could possibly get his hands on until he finally figured out where they were keeping Zane.

Some of the things they had written were just plain disgusting.

‘Original has yet to perform as expected, but this is not a large complication as said subject appears to be reaching appropriate behavioral status. Even so, it will require much more regulation before it begins functioning optimally.’

It had taken time to be able to figure out what the hell they had been talking about, but when he translated it he had felt almost sick.

Zane isn’t doing what they want, but they’re starting to make him behave by straight up torturing him. But the worst part is that they don’t even seem to have a problem with that kind of thing.

And even after he had found and translated the files, he had still had to come up with a plan to get inside the near-impenetrable fortress.

There��s a large open field around the base, likely so that they can see anyone who would try to break in or escape.

As a ninja, it’s not even that difficult. He just hides under a truck and hopes he doesn’t fly off as it goes up to the base.

In all honesty, he never thought that the underside of a car would smell so bad. How does Jay enjoy working on these things?

When the truck finally pulls up, Kai carefully unhooks himself and sneakily creeps away, doing his best to not be spotted by the guards.

They scout out the perimeter, but he manages to find lapses in their patterns that let him just barely avoid being seen as he gets inside- though he did have to use Airjitzu at one point.

Caution is the way to go with this. Every step he takes has to be precise. He can’t afford to slip up- not with Zane on the line.

Kai carefully sneaks around, trying to find the cubby that Zane is being kept in. The files he had found gave him a lot more information than he should probably have.

A mission has never been so stressful before. It really shouldn’t be so difficult, but his unease and worry are starting to get to him. Even things as simple as hiding behind a box are leaving him shaking.

If he’s being honest, he probably should’ve told the others about his plan. But they would’ve tried to stop him, probably worrying that he’d get put in jail again.

But this time, he’s not being reckless. This time, he’s putting his best foot forward.

This time, he’s going to save Zane.

It takes him some time to figure out where these cubbies are- because they seriously just put him away like an object on a shelf- and even longer to figure out which one is Zane’s.

Even then, it’s not over. Checking over his shoulder repeatedly, Kai carefully picks the lock, thankful that he had managed to convince Lloyd to teach him.

When he finally opens the locker, he feels relief flood through him.

Then it’s mixed by horror as he sees just how damaged his boyfriend is- they tore his face off. They seriously tore his face off what in the name of the First-

“Kai.” Zane breathes out, a series of conflicting emotions on his face- but they’re all nothing compared to the fear overlaying them.

He looks like he’s near tears, and Kai takes a step forward, ready to finally comfort him, to take his boyfriend home.

Finally.

This nightmare is over.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Zane punches the faux-Kai in the stomach, somewhat upset the fact that his hands are still cuffed. It will be difficult to fend off the one in place of his love like this, but he will manage.

The false Kai stumbles back, clutching his abdomen. “What was that for?!” He chokes out, trying to move closer again.

Wedging himself further back in the locker, Zane glares heavily. “I will not be fooled by your lies!” He snaps. “This facade of yours won’t trick me!”

Pseudo-Kai glances around, slight panic forming on his face. “They’re gonna hear you!” He hisses quietly. “C’mon, we need to get you out of here!”

He tries to grab Zane, but the white ninja resists to the best of his ability. He is unsure what they have planned in store for him, but he knows for a fact that he will not allow himself to be fooled any longer.

“Release me!” Zane demands, managing to get a kick in hard enough that sends the fake Kai skidding back.

“Zane, we have to get you out of here!” Faux-Kai insists, a look of fear and confusion about him as he attempts to grab the white ninja once again. “We don’t have time for this!”

Zane continues to fend him off, and though he is pulled from the locker, he refuses to give any more ground.

“I would rather be tortured than go anywhere with the likes of you!” He snarls, silently cursing the fact that his hands are bound.

It’s difficult, it’s so difficult to hold his ground when he sees the look of hurt and pain on his love’s face.

But Zane shakes his head, trying to dispel the feeling. No, this isn’t Kai, this is an imitation of him, a false version generated by his deluded sensors.

“Zane, I don’t want to fight you! Please, we need to get you out of here! The guards will be back soon, we can’t-“

That’s it. The guards! If they truly want him to believe that this is Kai, they will take him away when they show up.

But they would not listen if he called for them. They never listen to anything he says or does, so they likely would ignore him. So how could he-

As the pseudo-Kai still seems to be figuring out what to do, Zane darts over to a wall and pulls an alarm.

The guards had come when Cryptor had done such, and they will have to show again for the sake of authenticity.

The false Kai stares at him with a look of borderline horror. “Why would you do that?!” He demands. “We can’t-“

In that moment, the guards appear, quickly surrounding them.

Zane glares at them. “Get him out of here!” He demands. “And you plan to punish me for this defiance, so be it! I have learned from my mistakes, and I will not be fooled again!”

While they start dragging the faux-Kai away, Zane turns and heads back to his locker. Even as the simulated version of his boyfriend yells after him, he doesn’t listen, he doesn’t even look back.

When he steps inside the locker, he closes the door, allowing them to re-lock it.

He will not be fooled again.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Kai shouts after Zane, but his boyfriend doesn’t reply, he willfully goes back inside his tiny cell, not even bothering to look back at him.

“Zane!” Kai calls out to his boyfriend as he tries to resist the guards, but not only are they skilled, there’s just too many of them! “Zane, what are you doing?!”

He’s roughly put in handcuffs and dragged away as he struggles to comprehend what has just happened.

What had they been doing to Zane? What could they possibly have done to make him not even trust the sight of Kai?

He continues to resist, but no matter what he does, he can’t make any progress.

Even when he’s taken outside and put in the back seat of a police truck, he still doesn’t stop fighting, he doesn’t stop trying to get back to Zane, to get that locker open and save him-

But nothing works. The cuffs are vengestone, and the guards are just too strong.

He’s once again taken to the police station, and Kai curses under his breath when he sees it.

Not only did he fail to save Zane, he’s also going back to jail, where his teammates will have to pick him up- again.

When he’s put back in the cell, he sighs, still trying to wrap his head around what had happened.

They need to save Zane. Every moment they wait, he goes through more and more.

But his plans aren’t working. He only gets in trouble whenever he tries.

… maybe he should try actually listening to the others.

“Zane…” he mutters to himself, “Zane, I promise we’ll get you out of there. Just hold on a little longer.”

“Hold on.”

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Zane is taken to the training room not long after the fake Kai had been taken away and he sighs as he realizes that he will likely be punished for not allowing himself to be tricked.

Martha steps into the room, a rather intrigued look on her face.

“I’m glad you’re finally starting to see your place. You really do belong here.” She smiles, sounding somewhat amused.

Zane scoffs. “I would not be fooled by such an imitation!” He snaps, annoyance taking over him. With all the manipulation they had done, do they truly believe that he would continue to fall for their obvious lies?

“Original…” Martha shakes her head, “if he was an imitation, why would we have taken him away?”

Sighing, Zane decides to hold the conversation, even though it seems to be only to bother him. “To make it seem as though he was real when he was not, to delude me into thinking-“

“No. In what situation have we ever ended an illusion because you wanted us to? We would have created an excuse, claimed that he drew them away.” Martha explains, and Zane hates how her words ring true. Everything they had done so far points to the fact they would do that.

“This- you lie!” He argues against her despite that. He would not have fought off the real Kai, he would not allow himself to stay in this wretched place, he-

“Claim what you will, Original. But you know that I’m right. That was your teammate. And now, you’ll never see him again.”

While Zane knows they can manipulate his sensors, every scam he runs proves that she’s not lying, and every thought process points that what she says is true.

“I… you- it…” He finds himself fumbling for words, desperately trying to find a way to prove that she’s wrong.

“Take it back to its locker. It did good today; no training is necessary.”

Horror has fully taken over him when he’s returned to the locker, and he tries to struggle against them, though he knows it’s futile.

That night, he cries himself to sleep.

He really is just a stupid metal box.