#like he was serving an evil witch who would have killed him otherwise

[skz-miroh]

Someone has to say it

I’m a Monty the Crow apologist

[fanfic-mind]

Blood on my hands (all that i've gained and all that i've lost)

pairing: merthur

warnings: non

status: fanfic draft, Part 1/? (~ 2300)

It’s yet again an hour of need for Camelot. But the weapon they need to safe kingdom and people comes with a price. Only those who prove that they are powerful and wicked can receive it. The knights of Camelot don’t have enough evil deeds to be worthy of the sword. They think everything is lost - until  Merlin speaks up...

A magic reveal story in which Merlin makes good use of being a morally grey character. Because, yea, Merlin-is-the-victim-reveals are swell and all but he is capable of making his own decisions and some of them are pretty shady. There is still a good amount of Uther bashing included.

Somehow they get into a situation that requires someone with blood on their hands - figuratively (otherwise it wouldn't be a problem because seeing how often Arthur and Merlin and also Gwaine get wounded by just existing they probably wouldn't even have to injure anyone)

Maybe a god of the Old Religion guards a weapon they need to kill the magic beast of the week or to destroy a cursed item.

In any case: they are really desperate. People are dying and this is their last hope, their last resort.

To their misfortune, this weapon is guarded by a very cunning and wicked god and they will only give their weapon to someone who has the power and the will to use it for evil deeds

There is a test that must be passed by the one who wants to receive the weapon. They must prove that they did enough evil deeds to be worthy of it.

Arthur quickly fails his test because despite some wrongs he's done he is way too just and noble to be wicked

The only knight that seems to get at least a few moments more of consideration is Leon who has done some terrible things - however under Uther's orders which isn't quite powerful enough

"Ahh, Uther Pendragon," the god muses, "Him i would have given the weapon. Such rage and blind hatred and, oh yes, so much blood."

Arthur grits his teeth and sets his jar. he wonders if his father would be disappointed in him for not living up to this legacy of his. he wonders - not for the first time - why he wanted to be like his father once and how he managed to end up being so different.

The knights discuss their strategy. non of them is wicked enough to pass the test. they have wicked people in Camelot's dungeons. But Camelot is three day rides off and their quest is really urgent.

They could separate and seek for wicked folk, but the chances seem slim and the risk of them keeping the weapon as they receive it seems too big

People are dying and they need to do something now.

"there must be another way to destroy it," Lancelot suggests, though they've been over this. His eyes stray to Merlin, but Merlin seems caught up in thought.

If there was an easier way to do this, Merlin and Gaius would have come up with it by now. asking the god had been their idea in the first place.

"What if there isn't?" Gwaine argues heatedly. "We can't have waisted six days for nothing. This is probably our last chance."

"so what do you suggest?" Lancelot interrupts somewhat irritated. They temperaments are heated at this point. And suddenly knowing each other’s worst deeds doesn’t exactly lighten the mood. "All of us failed the test. i wouldn't have thought that I'd ever be angry about being found too good and noble."

Gwaine shrugs with a grimace. He hadn't thought that he'd ever be deemed good and noble in the first place.

"maybe there's a way out of that," Arthur says. He hasn’t spoken in a while and all heads turn towards him.

"what do you mean, Sire?" Leon asks, looking uneasy as if he already knows and doesn't like it.

"If you're not noble enough, you proof your nobility by doing good deeds," Arthur starts matter of fact. "so, logically, if I'm not wicked enough, i prove my wickedness by doing an evil deed."

The god smiles a toothy smile.

"To murder just anyone obviously isn't evil enough" Arthur says, looking at the god with disgust. "so it must be somthing worse. murdering a friend, for example."

"My king, with all due respect, this is madness," Leon say carefully.

"sir Leon, that's the point." Arthur says sourly.

"is that really it?" Gwaine shouts at the god who watches his outburst unimpressed. "You want us to slaughter each other?"

the god laughs, distant and hollow and the earth seems to vibrate with it. "The weapon can only be taken by those of power who are wicked and cunning enough to wield it." the god repeats his earlier words.

"So there's not even a guarantee," Gwaine says, throwing up his arms. "Arthur, let's just leave and see if we can find something else."

"there is nothing else, Gwaine, you said so yourself!" Arthur returns. His expression is incredibly pained but determined in a way that makes them all shudder. Leon, Percival and Lancelot unconsciously get into fighting stance.

Gwaine takes a few steps to put himself between the king and Merlin who is the most vulnerable

Arthur nods to himself, seemingly coming to a decision in his head.  Tehn he draws his sword . "If either of you kills me while i try to kill you, that might be enough too" he muses

They all stare at him in horror, unable to believe that he will go through with this.

"My people are dying," Arthur says, his tone pleading, "if i have to sacrifice my good conscience to help them - well, it is a price i must be willing to pay. I'm sorry. But all of you swore to protect Camelot at all costs too."

Arthur halts for am moment then nods grimly. "Don't try to sacrifice yourself. I'm sure that's not what he's looking for" Arthur nods towards the stony god who smiles.

"you can't be serious" Mordred whispers.

"I'm afraid i am. Now, it's been an honour. truely. and i hope - i hope I'll still have your respect afterwards. Though, i can understand if you can't trust me again."

"that's enough."

They all turn around. Partly, because they had forgotten about Merlin who has been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time. and partly because they have rarely heard this sort of tone from him. harsh and demanding. a voice more fit for a king than his manservant.

They stare at him and he makes short eye contact with Arthur before he steps forward, in front of the statue that the god is using as a vessel.

"test me." Merlin says. his voice is determined and his shoulders are set.

Arthur let's out a short laugh, because clearly this is absurd, right? Merlin is the best and kindest of all of them. Actually, coming to think of it, if he's really honest, Merlin probably is the reason Arthur is not like his father. Merlin makes him better. Merlin makes him want to be better.

A few of the knights share his sentiments, laughing slightly hysterical with tension but still perplexed over this development.

Only Lancelot steps forward with a frown as if to pull him back, but merlin raises a hand without looking at him and he stops in his tracks.

Arthur who was about to say something stops too.

The god looks more alive than before he seems to stretch himself to his full height as if he has waited for this

"welcome" he starts as he has with all of them. "young warlock, tell me your deeds."

lancelot tenses, casting a worried glance back at the king who stands there, sword still drawn, eyes fixed in Merlin as if he doesn't understand any of this

Lancelot doesn't either. Even if Merlin is a sorcerer - what evil deeds can he possibly have done? Saving Arthur's life over and over without ever seeking credit doesn't have a ring of evil to him.

"I am Merlin, and they call my Emrys." Merlin starts.

Some of the Knights gasp. Emrys is a name they know by now.

Lancelot wonders whether Merlin considers his identity an evil deed in itself. The possibility breaks his heart a bit.

"I was born with magic. I am the most powerful sorcerer there is."

Merlin takes a deep breath.

"i lied to all my friends. I let them think they can trust me, that they know me. But they never will. I could kill them just by looking at them. I am magic and i killed many behind friends backs and before their eyes, but never revealed myself to them"

"I am a slayer of my own people," he continues, his voice hard, "I killed many creatures and men of magic to protect their murderers - the king and his son. I did it out of self-righteousness and out of selfishness because...” for a moment, Merlin halts, but then he continuous with the same hard tone as before, as if something is forced out of him, but he wants to stand for it.

“I loved Arthur more than my own people. i let many of them die even though i could have helped them if i had revealed myself. But i couldn't bear the thought to be separated from him so i stayed quiet and watched them burn."

The god nods Merlin on. They all stand in shock. They know from before that Merlin won't be able to stop telling his deeds before the god thinks he is done.

"I killed the witch Nimueh even though she told me i have to pay with a life to save Arthur's. Instead of giving my life as i promised, i killed her."

"I killed Mary Collins, Afanc, Aulfric, Sophia, Cornelius Sigan, Myror and many more. "

Merlin's voice falters a bit, but he seems to pull himself together visibly, because his voice is clearer again when he keeps speaking.

"My betrayal to my people is so great, my wickedness so deep, i considered to kill a child on the mere possibility that he could threaten what was mine in the future."

Mordred makes a quiet stricken noise.

No one dares take their eyes off Merlin, but Merlin himself turns his head slowly.

There is a gasp of horror when they all see that his eyes are glowing yellow with magic.

Up until now, no one except Mordred and Lancelot had truly believed it.

"I tried to kill Mordred when he was a child and i wish his death even now though he is kind and serves Arthur."

Lancelot looks at Merlin with complete bewilderment as Mordred sobs.

Merlin doesn't answer Lancelot's gaze, he just turns around again.

They can hear him take in another breath and it sounds more halting than before.

"I knew that my friend had magic and i saw her turmoil and her fear of being killed. of being burned by her own kin like all of the others. but instead of helping her, i left her in the dark. I told her to trust me - she trusted my - and then i poisoned her."

Merlin stops for a moment, his voice sounds rough as if speaking becomes quickly more difficult.

"I gave Morgana poison in full intend and watched her as she died and i regretted when she was healed."

"Only i had the power and knowledge to save her, but i turned my head from her suffering, i killed her when she didn't know better than to turn to her sister, it was me that made her what she is today."

There is another short pause. Lancelot is desperate to see Merlin's face. To demand how this all really went. Because though he knows that Merlin is bound to say the truth by the power of the god, he still thinks there must be a mistake or a trick. This is not Merlin. Merlin would never...would he?

"I conspired with and freed the dragon that attacked Camelot which led to the death of many innocent people. I attempted to kill Arthur on multiple occasions."

Lancelot frowns. This one he knows to be untrue. Merlin didn't want to kill Arthur. it was Morgana's doing that he went after him.

"i saved Uther Pendragon's life - more than once. I let him live even though he slaughtered my people. I saved his life even though i didn't have to. I never killed him even though i had many opportunities."

Merlin pauses then, looking up at the god.

"Do i really need to go on?" he asks and it sounds almost indifferent. except they know Merlin and they know how his face looks when he sounds this way.

The god leans their head to one side slowly. the stone his vessel is made of groans.

"You are worthy, young warlock. More than you know. Into your hands i command my sword."

Suddenly, there is noise and light and they cover their eyes, everyone except for Merlin and Mordred.

They can't be sure but they think they can hear Merlin's voice through it all, speaking a foreign tongue. Then, it's over.

When the air clears, Merlin stands alone, the stone vessel of the god has crumbled to pieces, a big sword in his hand. For just a moment, when he turns around to face them, he looks nothing like Merlin at all. His eyes are golden, and his face is grim, lips pressed into a thin line. His posture is straight and majestic and he holds the sword like a warrior. His appearance strikes them with fear. He looks like power incarnate.

The others notice from the corners of their eyes that Mordred kneels before him. and even as they are completely bewildered, they have an urge to do the same.

The next moment though, it's all gone, and Merlin looks like he's never handled a sword before. His eyes are blue and his cheeks messy with dust and tears. He sinks to his knees and the weapon falls from his hands - is pushed from his fingers as if through magic, landing on the ground with a strange sound.

Merlin looks after the sword with disgust clear on his face. Then he looks up and suddenly he looks afraid.

To be continued

[liesfallaciesfabrications]

Mr. Queen Analysis

My take on the rather heartbreaking and vague ending of the KDrama, Mr. Queen.

  Okay, I’ve been thinking long and hard on this subject (way too much) and have come to the following consensus:

Bong-Hwan and So Yong are both versions of the same soul. What got me thinking about this was that scene in episode 5 where SoBong talks about original and past lives but then mentions parallel time-streams. To illustrate, she draws two lines running side by side and explains how a past life can be in one and the original/current being in the other. This had me stumped a bit, and I thought it a bit random that they put that in there, but then I looked up “reincarnation and parallel lives” and there’s a surprising number of articles on it - though obviously not conclusive or scientific as it involves spirituality. 

Episode 5 also explains why time in the present is flowing at the same rate as the past, which we discovered when BH’s consciousness briefly reentered his body and explain why they chose to reveal that fact. Time isn’t linear here but more fluid with both versions existing simultaneously - harkening back to the two lines Mr. Queen drew to illustrate.

The reincarnation theory would explain many of the elements of the story that I found hard to accept. For example:

If So Yong’s separate soul was in there with Bong Hwan’s soul then why did he never feel her? In fact, the show repeatedly makes reference to the idea that Bong Hwan does not feel another soul and attributes characteristics of SY to the body (telling her after the kiss that the soul is in control of the body so she ought to behave and in another scene he tries to get her soul to return by addressing the lake - where he believes she is hiding).  The only time he accuses her of being a separate entity inside of him is when he wants an excuse for his feelings and reactions to CJ. The “it must have been her that took control. If I knew it was CJ I would have....still enjoyed it?!? What’s wrong with me?” moments. LOL What if the reason he couldn’t feel another presence was because there wasn’t another? He merely had his consciousness wake up in the body of his past life but didn’t realize it.

It would explain the gradual integration of both personalities. For example, when CJ returns the book to Mr. Queen, she never thinks of herself as NOT being the girl from the well as she did when he first confesses his love for her at the lake. As BH spends more time in her previous body, the lines become more blurred not just in memory but also in identity because he IS her. If they were two separate souls, I don’t think she would have that same reaction nor do I see anything to indicate that So Yong “took over” in that moment or any other. Memories were accessed, personality traits were mingling, but we saw SY come out in episode 20...that personality was immediately recognizable. Fantastic acting by SHS - especially as she had me loving the one and hating the other, despite being both.

It would explain why Mr. Queen falls for CJ so hard, despite his initial protests. I never liked the idea of his feelings being manipulated, but I can get on board with the idea that he accepts his feelings for CJ because this is a man that some part of him has always loved - and falls in love with “again” through their shared experiences and journey.

It would also explain the question of why Bong Hwan. What was the connection between this man and So Yong? They are reincarnations of each other. When So Yong was feeling hopeless and needed strength, she pulled upon her stronger version of herself to help her - made possible in that moment when she desperately wanted to give up on life and he desperately wanted to live. She came to him in that pool and appeared to the queen again when she was looking for answers in the lake. This does not give the impression of a soul cruelly imprisoned in her own body against her will. 

It would also explain why, when Bong Hwan briefly went back to his body, So Yong did not reappear. She wasn’t being suppressed. She purposefully had her reincarnated self come to give her strength and was not ready at that time to assume her life again. I found her choice of words at Byeong-In’s grave to to be telling. She said he always knew where to find her whenever she was hiding. It’s also why I believe BI didn’t realize Mr. Queen wasn’t SY - for the same reason CJ doesn’t at the end of the drama. These two men, both of whom deeply love her, could sense it was her, just in reverse order. CJ-SB-SY and BI-SY-SB.

It would also solve the pesky issue of why BH is an overall better person - not just at the moment of his return but before. Someone on Reddit mentioned the implausibility of CJ’s political accomplishments causing a ripple effect to change BH, and I agree. However, if we look at BH as SY’s reincarnation, then the positive attributes he now displays in the altered timeline can be accounted for because he prevented his previous incarnation from killing herself, therefore in his next lifetime his soul didn’t carry those grudges. This fits with the idea of reincarnation as a person’s life experiences and emotions/grudges/regrets/mindset at death will determine the psychological and even physical manifestation of their next life. 

SY was told by evil Kim that she had no power b/c she was a woman - next life is a man. 

SY had her love cruelly rejected - next life is a playboy who doesn’t seem to believe in love. 

SY felt that she was living a lie - next life is a man who doesn’t care who he offends with his opinion and does what he wants when he wants - to the point of selfishness - though this changes when he prevents many of these resentments by his actions in the past. 

Finally, it would explain why CJ is so “oblivious” at end of the show. He promised when he returned the book to SB that he would never fail to recognize her, and he doesn’t. While her personality has changed, it’s intrinsically also the same person, though this is the area I felt the writers dropped the ball in execution, but I get that they were pressed for time. The implications of this aspect also seem to be what KJH meant in his comment to a fan’s question of whether the king knew that BH had left.That it didn’t matter: SY or BH didn’t matter, only how CJ saw her.

So why send BH back? I believe they did it because it wouldn't make sense for him to live a life he essentially already lived as SY. Reincarnation is meant to be for a soul to grow and spiritually evolve, which it could not do by simply repeating what it had already done. Also, for some reason (I suspect so as not to offend Koreans by skipping over one of the most prominent historical figures in their culture - Queen Min), they still have CJ dying at age 32. This can be seen in the book BH is looking at when he's seeing his portrait, and is mentioned as early as episode 1. This was never going to be a happy ending for CJ/BH in the sense that many viewers wanted. Rather, he was going to facilitate the relationship of SY/CJ so that his previous life could run its course...ugh, I feel sick typing that out...with the hope that they meet again in another lifetime. Our SB is many things but trapped in Joseon without modern medicine, a miracle worker she is not. CJ dies without any heirs; his baby with the queen dies at just six months. If the BH decided to stay for love and then lost the baby and CJ, that would be just as heartbreaking for me as the ending I received. 

Wiki and other sources speculate the CJ was poisoned by the Andong Kims, but many historians (including Bong Hwan’s mother, it seems) dispute that fact as it would serve no purpose since he was a puppet king and since his death then allowed the Jo family to briefly take control until King Gojong’s father pretty much crushed both the Kims and the Jos. In reality, he probably died of unhealthy habits and a life of excess. In the show’s world, who knows...cancer or any number of possible illnesses that could not be treated at that time. During the banquet planning, we see CJ suffer a nosebleed. In the spinoff, Mr. Queen mentions how CJ is trying hard not to collapse from the strain of his burdens. These could be hints left by writers to indicate that CJ’s health has been compromised by the grueling struggles and stress he’s had to endure, not to mention allowing himself to get blown up.

They writers did give us the hope for another reunion - perhaps in BH’s lifetime or perhaps another one. It’s why I think they tried to imply a SY/CJ connection in the Bamboo Forest prequel (the only prequel in the spinoff) as well as end Bamboo Forest with a reincarnation wish. The setup seemed quite intentional and in specific order. The prequel created a sense of destiny. The next segment was about Mr. Queen confirming if it was just his body or his soul that was attracted to CJ...literally the words out of the character’s mouth...and they gave an answer to that with the last shot. The final segment introduced the wish for CJ to meet his queen again, and he is clearly thinking of Mr. Queen - so why the prequel, which would seem to introduce a separate love interest, unless it’s actually not because they’re one and the same with the middle segment emphasizing the genuine attraction and love for each other.

This might not be everyone’s cup of tea; it certainly wasn’t mine, and I think the writers should have handled the leaving better instead of going for an quasi mind-wipe of all the characters’ remembrances of Mr. Queen. I mean, CJ went from being horrified at Mr. Queen acting like a perfect little queen for a few seconds a mere handful of episodes ago to just asking "why the formality" at a more permanent display of temperament and seemed practically oblivious otherwise. Then Choi and Yeon were "shocked" when So Yong didn't revert to her witch of the palace act and chastise the maids that were laughing by the pond - as if Mr. Queen didn't already change that way of thinking months ago. Not to mention that they were also nonplussed by the fact that their relationship to the queen had gone from being regarded as family back to a servant/master status quo. Even with the soulmate angle, there was to much deus ex machina thrown in. The idea of soul mates is a romantic one, but the execution of it fell through.

They should have never gone with the reincarnation route, especially if they were never intending to let SY have a true voice in the drama, even if it’s just a final conversation between herself and BH before he leaves, made possible in that split second before true separation. Viewers never got to bond with her, and in those moments we did see her, she was either a watered down version of the personality we were emotionally invested in or emphasized the opposite characteristics (demure, feminine, etc...) that we loved Mr. Queen for rejecting. Also, this angle gives us no true feeling of completeness and satisfaction. SY is with CJ in the past - we won't see them develop their feelings for each other and grow to like them as a couple. BH is in the present but who knows if he'll find CJ's reborn soul and happiness with whoever it is. Promises without fulfillment demand too much from the audience to fill in the blanks. If that's the case, next time just give us a tag line and tell the audience to imagine the rest.

Even if they share the same soul, we are given two distinct personalities and not enough connection between them in terms of their recognizing each other, acknowledging their feelings for CJ to each other in some sort of passing the flame moment that would make it feel more homogeneous and prevent feelings of resentment at what we perceive as an injustice to a personality we adore.

Instead of creating an emotional divide between the two, they should have just have SY die before BH's soul enters, and develop the romance between CJ and HB's as the novel and even that cheap and campy Chinese version did. Having SY there just muddied the waters, and became a distraction and an excuse for every emotional milestone Mr. Queen experienced, negating that character's development and laying it at SY's feet or claims of deliberate interference.

They should have chosen a fictional king and not boxed themselves into a limited outcome. Granted, it gave them a valid reason for booting BH back to present times, but look at the result: limited number of years with someone the audience isn't really familiar with for our beloved ML (plus their baby dies) and a huge question mark for our F-turned back into ML in the present with the hope that maybe the reincarnation thing works in his favor but who knows because they couldn't even toss us that small crumb which would have alleviated some of our heartache for BH as well as give more credence to the fact that SY/BH are the same and thereby lessened the feelings of resentment to the SY character as well. Or they could have gone with a multiverse theory and left it wide open as to what sweeping changes would occur. BH being initially thrown back to the Joseon era as a result of his dying would have achieved that because then the audience would have no reason to revisit the present nor see that the worlds were linked via changes upon his return and stuck with the poisoning threat averted. Blow recorded history to smithereens and leave that to our imagination instead.

Yes, the fish-out-of-water hijinks were great fun, but the completion of the character arcs/relationship/etc...shouldn’t be an afterthought. 

The other element I would have liked to have seen that was in neither of the televised versions (though the Chinese one came very, very close) but was in the web novel is the king fully accepting that his wife is not the woman she was, believing that her previous body was a man, falling in love regardless and she with him. However, I think we all knew that wasn’t going to happen in a kdrama. 

[calliecat93]

Alrighty, In have a theory about what’s going on with Belos, Hunter being unable to perform magic without the artificial staff, Creepy Luz, and Phillip’s portal. I am basic all of this on what we know so far and Infully expect to be wrong and someone else likely already thought this uo. But so far, woth all the evidence we have and what Incan recall thus far, this is my theory:

From what we know so far, Phillip appears to have created the portal to Earth. How he did so is unknown or even how he got sent to the Boiling Isles in the first place. But lets not worry about that now. Let’s just assume that he succeeded. But whether he did so on purpose or accidentally, the portal had a side-effect: it created a copy of the one who passes through it.

Think about it. What if the portal created a copy of Phillip that remained on the Boiling Isles? Originally I thought maybe it was so no pne would miss him, but then I remembered Gwen confirming that as far as anyone knew, he just vanished. But IDT that doscredits the theory completely. What if this copy hid his face somthat no one would otherwise be the wiser? What if the copy became mad with power and in ways unknown to us, managed to take over the Boiling Isles and change the entire infastructure to how magic was used? Instead of using magic freely, it became controlled unless they swore aligencd to him?

What if this hypothetical copy of Phillip became Emperor Belos? A copy who appears human on the surface and looks like Phillip, so he eneds the mask. What if he can’t perform actual magic like the other characters can? Which is a theory that began at the end of S1 and this would explain why, especially since the recent episode confirmed that staffs with ‘artificial magic’ DO exist? If he got wxposed as a fake, those serving him may very wel turn on him and his plans for the Day of Unity come crashing down.

And if it is true that the portal can create a copy, this would explain Creepy Luz. When Luz followed Exa that fateful day, another Luz cane into existence. One that may very well have the same memories and knowledge as the real Luz. Thus she was able to simply fill in the slot that Luz left behind. She went to camp instead of Luz. She came back and since she had jo reason to suspect otherwise, Luz’s mother just assumed that she came home as she was meant to. Now whether Creepy Luz is evil or even aware that she’s not the real Luz is a mystery right now. We won’t know what her true intentions are until we see her fully. But if it’s true, it reinforces the theory that Belos may very well not only not be a witch, but not even be human.

Now this is where things get clunky. Because if the portal creating copies is true, why isn’t there a copy of Eda? She’s been through the portal. Now to be fair we don’t know for sure, maybe we’ll get a surprise an encounter a Creepy Eda at some point. But I have another theory. Unless the portal only causes copying to happen to humans and doesn’t affect witches, it may simply be that the copies are not able to sustain themselves for long. A fake Eda may very well already be long dead with her none the wiser about any of it and if the portal only does this once, there’s no need to worry about another being made. Which brings us to Belos’ condotion. Why he needs to drain Palisman’s magic. Why he’s decomposing into some kind of black slime thing. Simply put, Belos is LONG past the point thag he was meant to die. Maybe the revelation drove him madc I’m not sure. But he kills Palismans to keep himsef alice and without them or another source, he will die. Somif Creepy Luz is nearing her expiration daye… yeah it’s not gonna be pretty.

So then, what about Hunter? What’s his connection in all of this. Well here’s the other theory, maybe Hunter isn’t 100% a witch. Maybe, just maybe, he’s part human. My friend @vivalatoons who was kind enough to listen to me ramble about this already suggested to me that maybe he’s some kind of descendant of Phillip’s, and that would make sense. What if during his time in the Boiling Isles, Phillip got together with someone? What if he started a family or at keast tried to? We don’t know his age when he left the Boiling Isles, and even depsite always planning to go home, he likely formed relationships the same way that Luz is now. So maybe he and another concoeved a child, but due to being half human that child and those who came after were always powerless? Unable to perform magic the same way others could. Hunter is the most recent powerless child and maybe if Belos is wise to this, it’s why he took him in as his ‘nephew’. After all, if Hunter is a descendant of Phillip, then in a warp way, he is Belos’ ‘family’ and someone that he can use to his advantage.

Now again, I’m liekly wrong or someone did a far better job at explaining. We don’t know what Phillip’s life in the Boiling Isles was like. We don’t know how the portal came to be. We don’t know about Belos’ rise to power or Hunter’s family history. There’s a good chance that I am missing or outright forgetting something that throws a wrench into this whole thing. But with all the evidence so far, this is the only thing that makes sense to me. But for now, all that we can do is allow the rest of the pieces to show themselves, and then the puzzle can truly be completed.

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Abridged: 1968

The X-Men, those ever-so-slightly exhausting mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 40 - 51) - written by Roy Thomas, Gary Friedrich and Arnold Drake. Drawn by Werner Roth, Don Heck, George Tuska and Jim Steranko

Did you know Frankenstein’s monster was an android, sent to earth by aliens as an ambassador?

My English Lit professor LIED TO ME! (X-Men 40)

Whereas last year served up a cohesive narrative by making it all about Factor Three, 1968 gives us a hodgepodge of clumsy and confusing storylines. This might be due to the different writers at the helm: last year was all about Roy Thomas, this year we’ve got three dudes pulling it in different directions.

What doesn’t change is the prose. So much purple prose.

Anyway, this year is all about THE DEATH OF PROFESSOR XAVIER and THE RETURN OF MAGNETO! (If you think this is terrific foreshadowing and not something that kills all narrative tension, boy howdy, you’ll love reading comics from this era.)

The best kind of foreshadowing drags you into an alley, punches you in the nose and steals your shoes. Fuck subtlety and proper twists. (X-Men 41)

Anyway, Xavier is acting all out of character: cranky, angry, impatient, barely using his powers for immoral purposes… He pushes the X-Men to the brink and continually sequesters himself with a troubled Jean.

Meanwhile, Bobby and Hank’s date with Zelda and Vera is interrupted… again. At this point, I just have to believe that Zelda and Vera are embroiled in some torrid lesbian relationship, while Hank and Bobby serve as their beards.ANYWAY, their date is interrupted by the Grotesk, the last remaining heir to an advanced subterranean species who have recently been slaughtered by an earthquake machine of human making. Look, how many underground societies does the Marvel Earth even have? Did these Grotesks live next to the Molemen? I…

In defense of Grotesk, spinning him around like a fucking bola is one of the top three things I´d like to do with Angel too. (X-Men 42)

The X-Men try to stop the Grotesk from sinking the Eastern seaboard into the Atlantic, and in the end, the Professor sacrifices himself to stop him, paying pays the ultimate price!

OR DOES HE

To make it even more tragic, apparently Xavier was dealing with some mysterious illness that neither human medicine nor mutant powers could cure. But before he died, he somehow transferred his powers to Jean. (Either pretend this happened or retcon it him awakening Jean’s latent telepathy.) Anyway, Chuck wanted to prepare them for the return of… Magneto. (Also Pietro and Wanda.)

Quicksilver crashes Xavier’s funeral, unsure whether he should ask the X-Men for help. He doesn’t. Meanwhile, Magneto somehow has duped some hapless time-displaced TikTokker into filming the grisly affair. (X-Men 43)

What follows is a sort of confusing crossover with the Avengers where the X-Men mostly get sidelined in favour of some drama involving the House of M. Wanda has some temporary mental damage that only Magneto can cure? Also, Pietro hates humans now, which, given the state of the world in general, I can only concur with.

Magneto captures the X-Men in customized cages, designed to be unescapable, but Angel escapes by simply pushing the right button. He flies off to get help, stumbles upon a weird and ultimately meaningless side quest and finally returns with the Avengers!

But! Magneto turns the X-Men against Earth’s Mightiest Heroes! Just kidding: the X-Men pretend to go along with Magneto’s mind games, but this was all a plot concocted by the heroes to make Magneto feel like he’s winning. Instead, the heroes attack and drive Magneto back. Toad, who finally is fed up with Magneto’s abuse, emancipates himself and defies Magneto, kicking him out of the helicopter he, Wanda and Pietro flee in. Magneto seemingly falls to his death in the water.

OR DOES HE.

First of all: why would Magneto just make a non-ferrous aircraft? Second of all: why would he then BRING IT ALONG? Big mad. (Avengers 53)

Following Xavier’s death, Foggy Nelson reads his will. The Professor bequeaths the school to the X-Men! Fred Duncan, Professor X’s FBI liaison is also there! And then! Juggernaut briefly returns from the dimension of Cyttorak, stirs up trouble and is then sucked back into the ruby of Cyttorak thanks to a Professor Ex Machina from the grave. This somehow convinces Fred Duncan that the X-Men should split up, fearing they may be too big a target for evil mutants and thinking they might be better at responding to threats spread out over the continent.

Yeah, Angel will be so much more effective when he isn’t part of a team of much more powerful individuals. (X-Men 46)

So, the X-Men split up! In NYC, Bobby and Hank battle Warlock, the most forgettable villain ever, when he interrupts their date. They also get into a fight with hippies because of… poetry?

Yeah! Put the slam in poetry slam, odd beatniks! *aggressive finger snaps* (X-Men 47)

Jean and Scott ‘go undercover’ in California, with Jean becoming a model and Scott ‘pretending’ to be her superjealous boyfriend. So, instead of actually forming a relationship, they just pretend to have one? Fuck, these two are exhausting. Jean also forgot she attends a university, apparently. Which is just as well, because it means boring Ted and his boring brother disappear from the narrative.

They are attacked by an increasingly silly string of villains and it’s obvious that nobody really knows what to do with this book. They even skip an issue: the preview for issue 49 is something completely different than what we’re getting.

The year ends of a sort of high note, however, introducing two familiar faces. Mesmero,a hitherto unknown follower of Magneto, is amassing an army of would-be mutants by… hypnotizing them? Through their… X-Gene? Among them is a curious gal named Lorna Dane, who is rocking the brown hair. Bobby saves her from her drone-like state and keeps an eye on her while the rest of the X-Men investigate Mesmero.

Lorna meanwhile takes a shower, washed out the cheap dye and is revealed to have green hair. (Fuck yeah! But also maybe buy better dye?) Bobby and Lorna are captured by Mesmero and his cronies, and Bobby warns the other X-Men telepathically. They let themselves be captured by Mesmero too, figuring it’s the easiest way to find his lair. There, Mesmero awakens Lorna’s latent magnetism powers, and bestows on her two sweet titles:

Somewhere in Kenya, Storm is upset and doesn’t know why. (X-Men 50)

And, in another shocking twist (gasp²), Magneto’s alive!

You say ‘aura of unspeakable evil’, I say ‘prime dom top daddy’. (X-Men 50)

He fights the X-Men while Polaris tries to determine who she holds allegiance to: the father she just met or these other randos she just met. You’d think she would maybe not want to hang out with the raving demagogue, but hey. Maybe it’s magnetic attraction. The X-Men flee, forced to regroup, and we end the year there, with the ‘innocent’ Lorna Dane under Magneto’s thrall.

Didn’t you take Art History? Oh! Issue 50 has the familiar logo for the first time, created by Jim Steranko!

So one cape tassel goes over the shoulder and one goes under it? Why is there a little skull with horns in the middle? Why the strappy sandals? Mesmero, sashay away. (X-Men 50)

Ugliest Costume: It’s a toss-up between Mesmero and Polaris, but since I assume Mesmero designed Polaris’ outfit, we’ll just give it to him.

Best new character: I didn’t think she’d earn it, because I’m not the biggest fan of Lorna Dane (most writers use her as a plot device, rather than a character), but otherwise this would go to Grotesk and that’s never going to happen.

Most audacious retcon: Jean is able to psychically penetrate Juggernaut’s helmet, which used to protect him from Charles’ influence.

It’s also kinda funny how after years of retcons where Polaris, Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver sometimes are and sometimes aren’t Magneto’s kids, how it is right now is the same as when it started: Lorna is Magneto’s daughter, the twins aren’t.

What to read: Nothing. This is not a great year.

Death proof: ‘Chuck’ kicks the bucket for the first time.

[ifyoulovemeletmebinge]

We’re All Monsters

destiel au where everything in canon is used at the wrong time and oh also cas is a monster. 

RATED M 

read it on ao3 here: 

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Dean has Castiel pinned to the wall in a blink.

He’s disgusted and he feels dirty, and betrayed, and he’d rather Castiel had killed him 15 years ago.

“Shut the fuck up, man,” he hisses in Castiel’s face. Dean’s mind is whirling with thoughts, spinning in a hurricane, and he can’t make sense of much at this moment except John killed Cas’s dad, Cas has been stalking him for almost two decades, and now he wants Dean to help him become human?

Dean can’t even count the degrees of fucked up here.

“Dean,” Castiel grunts low, against the forearm over his windpipe. “You don’t have to trust me, you just have to help me.”

“I said, shut the fuck up. You’re lying.”

Castiel clenches his jaw. He grabs at Dean’s shoulders and spins them around, much stronger and faster, and then they’re in the same position back at the bar, and Dean is willing his dick to fucking behave.

“I’ve got no reason to lie to you. It serves me nothing. I need your help, Dean. You’re the only one who can turn me. You and your brother have connections I don’t, spells I couldn’t get my hands on. I need you.”

“How do you know about Sam?” Dean bites out.

“I told you,” Castiel lets up a little, takes a single step back. “I’ve been checking in on you every few months since we met. I moved to Lebanon a few years back when I saw you were here.”

“You’re fucked up, dude. Why would you do that? My daddy kills your daddy and you think we’re friends?”

Castiel looks down, frowns, and Dean sees something real there. “I wanted to keep you safe. Your father, as weird as this may seem… Dean, he saved me from a much harsher existence. I guess I felt I owed it to him. As a thank you.”

Unprompted, Dean’s mind goes back to that night and he sees the bite marks, their ugly texture again, feels the weight on top of his hips pinning him down as dinner on the ground. He’s looking at Castiel and all he can think of is how he’s a monster. One of them.

But if Cas is a monster, just like his father before him, why was he grateful John practically made him an orphan? It occurs to Dean that he has no idea what Castiel’s dad made him do, and then it occurs to him that it’s so ugly he might not want to know.

Dean clears his throat and responds quietly, “Well, Mr. Winchester really appreciates it.” He waits until Castiel looks back up at him to ask: “You said you were half-human?”

“My mother,” Castiel nods, his face somber in an instant. “She raised me until her death and then my father found me. And he tried to make me like him for years, until your father. Until you.”

Dean realizes then that he feels pity, and a lot of it. He realizes that the Castiel he met at the bar might have been covering it up but it was there, and it’s here now. He feels a little breathless because this is something John’s journal can’t help him with. Here, in front of him, is a monster, asking not to be, acting like he isn’t. He’s more than one hundred percent sure no hunter in the history of hunting has ever gone through this before. Castiel is one of a kind.

“What are you, Cas?”

Castiel swallows, turning and walking over to sit on the couch. Dean stays leaning against the wall, needing something real that will convince him to not kill the other (half) man in the room with him until he fully explains.

Castiel’s eyes are blue in all the ways they can be. “I don’t know,” he responds. “I just know I can’t be like this anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s eyebrows furrow.

“It means that you’re my only chance of living for the rest of my life. Otherwise, I’d rather die.”

Dean knows that look too well, sees it in himself sometimes, and before he can stop himself, he asks, “What the hell did you do, Cas?”

Castiel sighs, looking like his exhaustion runs bone-deep. He swallows, opens his mouth, closes it.

He takes a moment and tries again. “I almost killed a man. He was homeless, and I was trying to help. I bent down to give him some money, and I hadn’t eaten anything of real substance in months…” Castiel’s throat works uselessly. “I guess I lost control,” he finishes hoarsely.

Dean's brain is not connected to his mouth and it’s working on its own to ask the worst questions it can. But Dean tries not to feel too bad, because Castiel is a monster, as he prompts, “What kind of food do you eat?”

Castiel presses his knuckles to his eyelids, rubbing them. “I’ve never killed anyone, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’ve only had deceased bodies. With being half-human, I found I don’t need to eat as much, but if I want to keep living I need to eat eventually. The longest I’ve gone without feeding was 7 and a half months and I was on the brink of death by then.”

“You almost killed me that night.”

Castiel pulls his hand away from his eyes and glares up at Dean. “Emphasis on almost.”

Despite himself and the situation, Dean chuckles. Maybe it’s Castiel’s half-human side, maybe Dean’s still drunk, but it feels easy. It’s exactly like it was back at the bar yet everything’s changed. Dean’s not sure he’s gonna leave with Castiel this time. Dean’s not sure he’s gonna leave a decapitated body behind, either.

In this state of questioning, he decides to sit down next to Castiel on the couch.

“So that’s the why now. Why us?”

Castiel tilts his head, narrows his eyes. “You’re the Winchesters. Surely, you must know what that means within your own circle. Sam is a great sorcerer, and you’re the best hunter in history.”

Dean feels his cheeks heat up a little, embarrassed. “Sheesh, I thought you stopped the sweet talkin’ act at the bar, Cas. We’re just guys doin’ our best. We’re not all that.”

Castiel stares into his soul as he disagrees, “You’re worth more than you think.”

Dean wants to kiss him. He does. He doesn’t have air in his lungs because he’s never heard that from anyone before, and maybe the only source of oxygen left is Cas’s lips. Dean wants to breathe. But he grips his kneecaps tightly, and holds himself back.

He stands up again, clears his throat. Dean doesn’t know why, but he believes Cas. He’s gonna help him. If he can’t help him then…

“Dude,” he turns back to Castiel, crossing his arms. “Whatever happens, you gotta leave us alone after this. This stalking thing is just…”

“I understand, Dean,” Castiel says gravely, resolved. “In any scenario, you’ll never have to deal with me again after this. I swear it.”

****

All in all, it’s not surprising in the least that Sam was excited about the situation Dean found himself in.

He called Sam in the middle of the night, waking him up, and after the grumpy moose-witch sleepily groaned his frustrations out through the phone, Dean told him segments of the truth and what he planned to do. Sam didn’t need to know that Cas had been stalking them, or that they’d briefly met as teens, or that they made out before Cas kidnapped him. Sam just needed to agree to say some of his Latin crap, wave his hands around a little, and try to cure Cas.

Was it really curing if Castiel had never been… evil in the first place?

Dean didn’t want to think about monster ethics, he just wanted to see if Sam could help him solve the problem, so he could be rid of it. Getting rid of Castiel seemed like the best thing to do so he wouldn’t have to think about the mess his dad made. If he had just killed him back then, he wouldn’t be dealing with this now! Dean was having a tug of war in his brain, one side already swinging a machete at Cas’s neck, the other bringing him to the bunker to see where this went, to make him normal, and maybe give him a life.

He hunted to help people, and in a fucked up way, that’s what this was.

But this was also completely unprecedented. Dean didn’t and wouldn’t have anyone else to tell him what is the right or wrong answer. He had to figure this out himself. He had to go with his gut.

Well, his gut told him that Castiel seemed like a good person that just had the wrong blood running through his veins. His nature was good, no matter how much they tried to nurture him to be his worst.

Dean’s evidence? Apart from an excellent guessing streak and a trusty gut feeling that always got him out of the shit at the last minute, Castiel had confessed to have been watching him and Sam for… yeah, 15 whole years. If he wanted them dead, he could have done it by now. That’s just a fact.

Another fact was how… human Castiel was. Is. He is half-human. Dean has to remind himself that when Castiel effortlessly lifts up his living room couch. He also has to remind himself Castiel is half-monster when he delicately hands him a cup of warm tea. Dean only grimaces at it a little, and then he blows on it once, downs it impatiently, and they leave for the bunker. He ignores the burning in the back of his throat and on his tongue, and he lets Led Zeppelin fill the silence on the drive back.

Dawn is still breaking when they get to the bunker. Dean has not slept in over a day, and the back of his head is swollen, and he just wants his bed. He can wake up and deal with Cas after he gets his four hours.

Sam is practically jumping up and down, eyes wide and alert and assessing as he meets Castiel, like he’s the coolest science-experiment-gone-wrong he’s ever seen. Dean feels bad for Cas, who simply stands there in that trenchcoat and lets Sam stumble through asking his questions and studying him. Dean has to remind himself yet again that Castiel is a monster. Then he’s off to bed.

****

Maybe it was the borderline concussion, but Dean’s body ends up needing a good six fucking hours, and he wakes up like the birds are singing him awake. He’s not even that bothered by the thought that there is a human-eating monster in his house. Maybe the night made his newest problem seem worse than it is.

But maybe the monster problem isn’t it. The actual problem would be Dean’s attraction to said monster.

Castiel has stripped down to just his white collared shirt, sleeves rolled up. No tie. They’re in the basement when he finds them, where Cas is sitting on a dentist-looking chair, and Sam is barely fitting in a normal chair right next to him. There are various small vials on top of the table behind them, where a bunch of bowls and needles also sit. Dean feels a little sick at the sight.

“What’s goin’ on here?”

Sam is so engrossed in the conversation with Castiel, he jumps a little, blinking, and then he looks at Dean. “Oh! Mornin’ Dean. I got some blood samples from Castiel, and we were just talking about possible things we could use them for. Like spells and such we could try. He knows his stuff,” Sam can’t hide the surprise in his voice. “He’s actually studied a lot of witchcraft.”

Dean nods. When he looks at Castiel, he’s struck back by his little smile and his bright eyes. He looks… excited. Dean feels something behind his ribs twist.

“Good morning, Dean. How is your head? How did you sleep?”

“His head?” Sam whips his head to Castiel, furrowing his brows.

Subconsciously, Dean brings a hand up to the back of his head. “It’s fine.” Then to Sam, “I, uh. I backed into a tall shelf over at Cas’s. ‘S nothing.”

Castiel seems utterly relieved to hear, and Sam just shrugs after a few seconds of staring at Dean. He goes back to sealing the vial in his hand.

But Dean is looking at Castiel again, and Castiel at Dean. Dean has to swallow to start breathing again. He wants to kick Sam out and jump on Cas. He wants to sit down and ask him if he’s okay, how he’s feeling about being poked and prodded at (even if he said he’d do anything for his goal). Hell, he wants to hold his hand and put a bandaid on him. He wants to get the fuck out of there, where the air is suddenly too thin, and where he sees Castiel’s face fall after his own crumbles.

[snowbellewells]

The Case of the Heart in Armor {Part Six}

Summary: Killian “Holmes” Jones is rarely surprised or shocked anymore, but that all changes when he meets one very stubborn - and very beautiful - pickpocket, and trouble brews in the distance, hidden by the London fog…

Wow, I’ve finally reached the end of this tale (which was really only intended to be a one shot at the beginning).  I’m sorry that it has taken so long, but I absolutely appreciate all who have read and commented on this one, and especially @courtorderedcake who provided the artwork above which inspired it to begin with.  Thanks so much for sticking with me, and I hope you will all enjoy the conclusion!

From the beginning: Here or on AO3

Part Six

Blinking her way back into awareness was a difficult process when Emma Nolan sucked in a harsh, strangled breath as her eyes blearily opened, still clouded and unable to focus properly. A dark shadow leaned over her, someone in vaguely human shape; not one that she could recognize as male or female, but rather some sort of unknown threat. Instinct from years of self-protection kicked in and she tried to flinch away from an arm raised with a weapon. Yet, even as she moved to stretch a hand out in defense against the blow, to her horror, Emma realized in a flash of descending panic that her movements were brought up short by her being bound tightly to the surface on which she lay.

Gulping in a frightened rasp of air, she began to fight and wriggle more violently, to little avail; her breath coming with continued harshness as her heartbeat raced in anxiety. It felt as if the dark chamber she was in was closing around her, dwindling to only herself and the specter above her.

A low, sultry chuckle passed the stranger’s lips, her assailant leaning in close enough that Emma could at last make out a gleaming smile and painted lips, the abductor now obviously female. The voice which followed was silken, slithering over her skin like a menacing serpent. “Well, hello, Miss Nolan. Welcome to my workshop. This will be all the more entertaining with you awake to participate.” The deeply colored corners of that sinister expression turned up with evil satisfaction. One gloved hand stroked along the side of Emma’s trembling face, despite her determined attempt to remain still and stoic, not showing the true extent of her fear.

“So sweet,” the unknown woman cooed with false sympathy. “So needlessly lost. I do apologize, dear, but you were necessary to draw him out.”

It was then that Emma registered the sharp gleam of the blade in the woman’s other hand; the one which had been raised above her head when she first woke, but which had escaped her focus as she blearily tried to understand all that was happening. Her brow furrowed, unable to process what this woman could want, or how taking Emma would lure anyone else, even as her thoughts raced for a way to avert a painful and life-threatening blow.

Unfazed by Emma’s quickly whirling thoughts and inner turmoil, her tormentor shocked her once again. Instead of plunging the weapon into her chest as Emma had expected, the woman instead drew the knife sickeningly alone Emma’s collarbone and down her arm. A thin line of blood welled up in the wake of the cut, and Emma hissed through her teeth at the sting, in spite of her best efforts. She still pulled against her restraints, but it did little good; only seeming to bring her captor more enjoyment of the deadly game. The only comfort Emma could find within her predicament was that this witch seemed in no hurry to finish her off. The cuts the woman was making obviously hurt, but they wouldn’t kill her any time soon.

Her focus was stolen moments later as the blade sliced into the soft skin of her inner elbow, twisting cruelly and forcing a whimper from Emma’s tightly clenched mouth. She jerked her head away, refusing to watch the sadistic glee lighting those dark eyes looming over her, but a sharply manicured hand gripped her chin and turned her back to face her doom. “Ah, ah, ah, now pet, you can’t stop watching. We’ve almost reached the main event.”

As if on some unheard cue, the heavy wooden door across the basement room began to rattle and groan as something rammed against it; once, twice, a third time, with increasingly desperate force. “Hmm,” the shadowy figure mused. “Right on time.”

Suddenly, with an unearthly shattering and rending, the door burst from its hinges, wood splintering as it was caved in by three avenging forms charging through into her prison. With a howl of such raw emotion she wouldn’t have imagined him capable, Killian ‘Holmes’ Jones hurtled across the small, dank space in a flash, clearly intending to tackle to the ground the murderess holding her prisoner.

His charge was brought up short by the dagger suddenly poised directly over her heart and a coolly staying hand. “Not another step, Holmes,” that cultured voice ordered as calmly as if she were suggesting he sit down for tea. “Miss Nolan has served her purpose beautifully, but I can still cut out her heart if need be.”

Killian Jones… Emma’s breath stuttered again without her command at the anguished look on the gentleman detective’s face. He nodded his head grudgingly, wordlessly agreeing to this fiend’s demands and freezing in place. For the life of her, Emma couldn’t fathom why Jones cared so much, but he looked as if it might undo him should this woman drive her blade home. Beyond him, she could see David and Graham, both looking worried for her and at a loss; her brother practically vibrating with thwarted rage at the cuts which had already been made against her skin.

“You’ve made your point, Regine,” Killian spoke, his voice icily controlled, as he held the woman’s gaze. “What is it that you want? You have our attention; there’s no need to punish innocents further.” He gestured to Emma as he said so, not looking her way, struggling to seem as if she were just anyone to him, but his words were still a hissed threat. The implication was clear: Millsen would not get what she wanted if she killed the young woman under her raised knife.

Pursing her garish red lips in a sort of pout, Regine Millsen abandoned her hovering stance over Emma’s prone body. Seeming assured of the fact that Emma could not escape, Regine instead began to stalk toward ‘Holmes’ Jones with a sinister purr. “Really, you could be a bit less predictable,” she chided, as if playfully admonishing a willful lover. “You’re making this too easy with your honor and good form and such nonsense.”

As she spoke, seemingly focussing all her attention on Killian, Graham had stealthily attempted to creep around behind her toward Emma. Suddenly, Regine’s free hand shot out toward Watson, and he was thrown back against the stone wall with a single shout of surprise, a sickening thud of impact, and then silence. Shaking her head ‘no’, she arched a sculpted brow at David after, as if to question whether he wished to be next.

Eyes zeroing back on Killian’s in a flash, she questioned,“Now, Holmes, where were we? Oh yes… Are you ready to make a deal? If you’re so concerned for the innocent, I will allow you to stand in her place. It seems only fair.”  She shrugged lightly as if it weren’t of much consequence, the gesture fooling no one, as he had been her true quarry all along. “You failed to care so much for the death of my sweet, blameless Daniel. Not such good form after all, hmm? Still your unconcern came back to me as the final piece needed to solve my puzzle after all this time.”

Though certain his horrifying theory had been correct, Killian still had nothing with which to fight against her, not while Emma Nolan’s life hung in the balance. Unable to do otherwise, Killian paused any movement, holding fast just where he was with hands raised in patient supplication. With a nod of acquiescence, he gritted begrudgingly, “Aye, you harpy, you know I’ve no other choice. What is it you wish me to do?”

Holding his breath, he waited for this dangerously unbalanced foe to move her blade away from Emma before he did anything else that might unsettle her. Managing to subvert his expectations once again, at his compliance, the sharp, edgy rage and unpredictability that had painted Regine Millsen’s face eased and she straightened regally, moving toward the detective with what would have almost seemed a seductive sway and a simpering expression of satisfaction on her face. “I knew you would see sense, Mr. Jones. You are billed after all as a man of reason.”

Killian did not respond to her attempt at flirtatious distraction; holding himself rigidly still, and only with strict self-control, managing not to shiver away from her questing fingers as they traced uninvited along his jawline, down to his collar and grazed along his upper chest. For the first time ever, he found himself cursing his predilection to leave his top few shirt buttons undone; he wanted no part of this vicious creature’s touch lingering upon his skin. Clenching his teeth, he tried to focus on the fact that under different circumstances he could have heard Emma laughing at him in such a predicament, shaking her head with exasperated mirth and telling him it served him right if he left half his chest on display; some poor woman would have to touch it.

The thought of Miss Nolan in happier times immediately sent his gaze searching for hers over their foe’s shoulder. Even pinned down as she was, he could see that since her attacker’s focus was no longer solely on the younger woman, Emma was already wriggling and working at loosening her bindings and freeing herself from Regine’s knots of rope. The pickpocketing skills she’d honed for a lifetime -  her natural deft touch, slim build, and sleight of hand -  might just save them now if they were lucky and he could buy her a bit more time not under Millsen’s rapt observation.

Without further hesitation, Killian resolved to do just that, gritting his teeth against the snide comeback burning on his tongue and forcing himself not to enrage the woman, he continued to hold himself still rather than pulling back or pushing her away. Despite the disturbing feeling of Regine Millsen’s sharply pointed nails and chilled hand slipping inside his shirt front and mapping the planes of his chest in a possessive way that caused bile to rise in his throat - he would much prefer the intrusion than for her to go back to gouging and slicing at Emma Nolan’s pale and flawless skin.

It almost seemed as though Emma could read what was going on in his mind. Even if  he would once have labeled her as little more than a nuisance and thorn in his side - pretty, but a dishonest thief and an annoying distraction - he was quickly coming to realize that few people had ever as quickly seemed to understand his meaning, his thought process, and incisively glimpse right behind the protective veneer of cool detachment he wore like a mask, as this wisp of a woman had done at first meeting. It was the pocketwatch she had nicked, but those small, graceful hands reached inside him much further than that. If he were as given to the romantic bent as he had once foolishly been, he might have claimed she had pulled his heart out clutched in her sticky fingers as well.

A particularly unfortunate exaggeration to make in their current situation, he chided himself, snapping back to reality as the murderess before him finally removed her unbidden touch from his chest, and stood back to face him squarely, gauging whether or not she had his full attention. He needed to stop dwelling on more pleasant moments and focus on his opponent. Yes, he could physically overpower her in a fair fight, but he didn’t know what this woman’s next move might be, nor what sort of occult power she might throw at them next. He couldn’t risk trying to simply cuff her or disarm her until he was sure of the advantage - the opportune moment. If he failed, any of his compatriots, and most likely Emma, might well pay the price with him. Thankfully, he could see that Emma was making progress - one arm was moving much more freely than it had been, and with a couple more minutes unseen, she would hopefully free herself. He was banking on it, as he might or might not be able to provide much more than distraction if those few minutes went as he was beginning to suspect they would.

“Well, now we come to it at last,” he spoke up, forcing his voice to a low, smooth rumble and purposefully returning Regine Millsen’s blatant stare with his own, making certain he had her undivided attention while he noted a flash of gold over her head. Emma had her hands free and was working on the knot at her stomach. It might hurt, but if he could prolong this just a little longer… If the others were free to run when need be and he could still get Millsen in his grasp…

All he said was, “You have me right where you wanted, don’t you?”

“That depends,” Regine purred back with a  sinister quirk of her brow. “You know why you are here, and what I desire? And you mean to cooperate?”

Holmes gave her a condescending smile. “Possibly,” he shrugged, “if you answer a question for me first. If you admit what all of this has been about. Why hearts? What can you possibly hope to accomplish with a person’s heart cut from the body?”

“Why resurrection, of course,” she replied, as if it were as sensible and normal as any sane rationale. “You must have heard the theory… the possibility of reanimation… a man as well-read and learned as you. I have come so close to success so many times, and now the missing piece is right within my grasp; the single reason why each time before has failed. I needed the exact heart strong enough to withstand the procedure with enough armour to shield it until it can bring my Daniel back to me.”

Killian tilted his head, knowing he needed to keep her talking just a few moments longer. He could see Emma frantically working at the knots holding her ankles now; heard Graham stirring back into wakefulness over against the wall where he had landed and knew David could help him. Only a few more seconds, just a couple steps closer and he could reach her, hopefully grab Millsen and stop her, before she could retaliate. He attempted a look of curiosity as he asked, “And it’s mine? What made my heart so special? How did you even know?”

Shaking her head and clicking her tongue with a sort of feigned disappointment, Regine gave him a questioning eye. “Really now, Holmes. I’d think you might have that answer worked out for yourself. After I had made attempts with, shall we call them less-than-suitable donors, it became clear that only the most resilient of hearts, organs which could withstand pain, undergo trauma, and carry on beating, could possibly handle what the feat of reanimation requires. Once that was clear, I remembered our previous meetings long ago - the passion and depth in your eyes, though clearly guarded and walled for strength against easy temptations - even against a match as fine as I was then. At the time, true, I was offended. But now, I can only be grateful. I did not forget such reserve and discipline, and it was easy to learn it had only carried on and grown in your daily life and distinctions over the intervening years.”

Killian nodded sagely, as if truly taking her reasoning under consideration. Then he queried, “And I suppose I should simply submit to being the catalyst for such a remarkable event, regardless of the personal cost?” He couldn’t help a small amount of his contempt for her plan at last leaking through his voice. It was preposterous! The sheer arrogance of her presumption! How could she possibly imagine it would go? Would anyone offer oneself up gladly? But then he thought of the scene he had burst into moments before. If it stayed her hand from shedding Emma’s lifesblood - or that of anyone he cared for - then he admitted that he would submit to the woman’s most insane demand.

Luckily, he could see that Emma was even at that moment finally free of her restraints and climbing down from the worktop upon which she had been laid.. The pretty blonde - whom he might as well admit had captured his attention as no other in years - leaned against the table’s edge, looking a bit woozy and off-balance for a moment, either from loss of blood or whatever Millsen had used to knock her out, but then she straightened, eyes meeting his quickly and hardening with determination.

Now was the moment. Emma was on her feet and free to run; he simply had to hope, trusting the capabilities of the two men behind him to have each other’s backs. He only needed a moment to arrest the strike he was certain Regine Millsen would make with the blade still in her hand, to catch her while she was focused on removing his heart, rather than her seemingly magical abilities to fend off capture. Meeting the occultist’s hungry gaze, he finally blew out a short breath through his nose, hoping he looked sufficiently resigned, as if bowing to his choice and the sacrifice he faced. “Very well,” he acknowledged. “You obviously know I cannot save my own skin and allow you to stalk others if it is within my power to stop it. If I have your word that Miss Nolan goes free, that this is the end of your murderous reign, then do what you will.”

She smiled, dipping her chin slightly to affirm her agreement. “Of course, Holmes. You have my word. Once I gain this heart of yours, my work will finally be complete. I’ll have no need of any more.”

Muscles tensed, every fiber of his being at the ready to lunge forward and grab her as she prepared to strike the final blow to his chest, Killian’s focus narrowed. There was no margin for distraction or error. Regine Millsen’s arm raised in triumph; her deluded assumption that he was giving himself over to simply stand as his heart was carved from his body lending a crazed fervor to her actions, disregarding caution in her avarice and the nearness of her goal. 

The villainess swept forward, knife’s edge bared, and Killian crouched as she was in motion, raising his hands to capture her wrists once it was too late for her to pull back. Then, suddenly, a scream of rage and fear rang throughout the chamber and bounced off the stone walls. Regine’s form collided with his own, but with far more weight and force than her slight body should have carried. Both of them were borne to the ground; Killian’s head striking against the cement floor hard enough for his vision to swim and the solid mass of more than just the witch he had expected pressing down upon him.

He groaned involuntarily, trying to keep his vision clear to subdue their murderess while she was also stunned. Unfortunately, the blow to his skull was sharply compounded by a ragged, burning fire that flared along his side. Agony shot through him, realizing that the knife must have been caught between himself and Millsen in their fall, and though not dissecting his heart, it was still carving a painful line across his torso.

Regine had not moved, but suddenly Emma peeked over her abductor’s motionless shoulder. A heavy metal object he couldn’t identify was clutched in her trembling hand, and Killian was just aware enough to understand that she must have used it to render Millsen insensate as she had plowed into the other woman - saving herself and him too. Well, maybe, if only he weren’t so disoriented… “Emma?” he questioned, tongue seeming thick and too unwieldy to speak properly.

“Jones?” she replied, eyes shining widely with fear and concern. “Are you…?” Those intriguing eyes widened as she took him in, her chin wobbling only a second before she turned to cry out her brother’s name urgently.

Holmes suddenly felt highly unconcerned with everything but her face so near his own. “You - you saved me,” he managed to state awkwardly as he attempted to touch her face. His fingers couldn’t reach their goal, and his hand fell back to the floor, stained with blood.

“Just take it easy, Jones,” she murmured, threading her small delicate fingers with his own, despite the sticky residue. He grinned at her with a giddiness that was almost loopy, prompting a watery smile in response that wheeled alarmingly in his vision. “What can I say?” she added. “It seemed like the honorable thing to do.”

But her voice and all the other noise and movement in that strange, cavernous cellar was already fading away, growing softer and smaller, as if gaining distance from him - until there was nothing there at all.

~~~~~~~~~***

Two Weeks Later…

Upon leaving his London flat, Killian ‘Holmes’ Jones drew in a grateful breath of the crisp morning air, more than past his fill of Graham Watson and his physician’s orders to stay abed until the knife wound in his side was fully healed and his blood loss recouped - to say nothing of the fussing and smothering he had endured from Liam in the past fortnight. He would not have expected it from the man, but his elder brother was as overprotective as a crochety nursemaid since his injury, barely leaving Killian alone long enough to feed and dress himself, and rushing headlong back into his chambers if Killian so much as let a hiss of discomfort escape.

He could admit to himself, since he had finally been allowed to leave the house for a short walk in the fresh air, alone and under his own steam, as he had been promising he was capable for some days, that the wound where Regine Millsen’s blade had sunk into his flesh was indeed still tender. He held himself gingerly as he reached the bottom step and moved out onto the busy sidewalk. All the same, he was not about to let on to another soul. In fact, he would not in the least be surprised if he were to turn round and look up to find his sibling and Watson peeking out through the window curtains and keeping an eye on him. He would not even put it past them, after the well-intentioned but ridiculous mollycoddling he had endured, to find Nolan waiting for him at the corner, a police escort to see him home safely at the end of his stroll.

Still, as he found his natural gait and started down the familiar street, Killian knew despite his irritation, that they were only so anxious because they cared. He had looked to be in dire straits there for a moment on the floor of that vault. His head had struck the floor with enough force to bring on concussion, and once he had passed out, he had been utterly unresponsive to all their pleas. Added to the fact that the blood spilling from his side had been hard to stem at first, and he knew he had given them all quite a turn. And Emma, well…

Miss Nolan had been the only one who had not visited him in the hospital, or at his home afterward as he convalesced. She had sent a handsome bottle of rum with a note expressing her sincerest thanks for his chivalrous rescue, along with the cheeky reassurance that she had indeed paid for the fine liquor. He could just see the sparkle in those bright green eyes, and her challenging smirk as he imagined her teasing him with the words aloud. All the same, he wished to see her alive and well, and no worse for wear, with his own two eyes, regardless of his belief in her brother’s assurances. 

Upon pressing David Nolan further, the inspector had admitted reluctantly, with eyes downcast, that Emma blamed herself. Apparently she thought that he wouldn’t have been so badly hurt if she hadn’t tried to help take Millsen down. The very idea made a fissure split through the ancient and already weakening protection around his heart. It had been nothing of the sort. His own plan had been last ditch and slipshod at best, and that she would have thrown herself back into harm’s way to come to his aid, after what she had already been through, meant more to him than he could adequately express or comprehend. He would never begin to blame her for the effort.

If he could just tell her that!

Therefore, as he turned the corner and walked on toward the nearby park, Killian felt a smile break across his weary face at the sight up ahead. The brightly colored pushcart full of carnations, asters, lilies, and all variety of cheerful blooms was wonderfully familiar, and as he tried to pick up his pace, he could only hope that its lovely proprietress would be there as well.

When Emma Nolan’s bright golden hair caught the sunlight as he drew near, Killian knew his pleased grin must have stretched wide enough to make him look quite the fool - and he could not find it within himself to care. Her back was still turned to him while she counted out change for a customer, wishing them enjoyment of the daisy bouquet they had purchased. Her trim figure stood straight-backed and proud, as strong and confident, alert and ready for action, as she had proven herself to be time and again. The swelling in his chest as he neared her side and reached out to gain her attention told Killian he had missed her more than he would have ever thought possible.

Once her customer had moved on, Killian tapped Emma’s shoulder lightly, holding his breath in nervous anticipation as she turned his way. Her beguiling gaze met his the moment she did so, green pupils widening in surprise before quickly falling to her hands as they fluttered nervously over the blossoms before her, anything to avoid his concerned and all-too-knowing stare.

“Emma,” he breathed, his voice hushed and raspy, overcome at seeing her there before him again. Her obvious anxiety and the pained guilt in her bearing tore at him. Even if she did not return the deeper feelings he could no longer deny, Holmes was glad he had come looking for her. He could not bear for Emma to go on blaming herself.

“Please, Lass, look at me,” he begged softly, reaching shaky fingers out to touch her chin and tilt her face back up to meet his own.

Shaking her head abruptly, the jade of her irises welled with unshed tears and she tried to pull away, but Killian persisted, needing her to see his sincerity. “You’re so bloody brilliant, Emma Nolan,” he hastened on before she could stop him. “Truly. Do you not even realize how rare the person who could have kept their wits about them in that dungeon? You were drugged, injured, and still you managed to free yourself and think of another as well. Yet, you haven’t given me a chance to thank you.”

He tried to take her hand, to press it in gratitude, but Emma resisted, spluttering in disbelief. “Thank me?! Are you mad, Jones? It’s because of me that - ” 

“No, not another word of blame, Darling,” he interjected firmly, intent on seeing her let that burden go. “The way I see it, you stopped our foe and saved my life. I’ll not hear any talk against your actions.”

Deflating, Emma shook her head in fond exasperation, knowing it wasn’t worth arguing further. His mind was set, and she honestly felt nothing but relief. No longer than she had known him, and as mad as he had made her when they met, the image of him splayed across that cold stone, his blood pooling beneath him, had refused to leave her mind, haunting her night and day, and repeating cruelly that if they had lost him, it would have been her fault. Biting her lower lip sharply to keep uncharacteristically emotional tears from pouring out, she pulled Jones to her finally, embracing him tightly with all the emotion she had tried to hide. 

When she stood back to right herself, Emma offered the infuriatingly handsome detective a hopeful smile. “Thank you, Jones… Killian,” she whispered. “I can’t say how glad I am that you’re alright.”

He flushed a telling pink under the scruff on his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears at her words. Dipping his head at her show of affection, Killian prepared to leave her to her work. With a wink, he spoke once more before departing, a hint of his previous charm in the words. “Until we meet again, Miss Nolan,” he bowed and turned to go.

“Soon, I hope,” she answered knowingly. A grin was already crossing her face as he stopped abruptly, hand freezing while he felt curiously in his waistcoat pocket. Pulling an object from it, Jones turned to her with his pilfered watch in hand.

“How did you - ?” he began to ask.

Emma only gave him a mischievous wink of her own, a woman needed a few secrets after all. Shrugging playfully, she offered in a tease, “I think you more than earned it.”

Tagging: @csrolereversal @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @laschatzi @resident-of-storybrooke @thisonesatellite @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones @lfh1226-linda @stahlop  @drowned-dreamer @teamhook @revanmeetra87  @snidgetsafan @shireness-says @artistic-writer​ @hollyethecurious​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @winterbaby89​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @searchingwardrobes​ @cocohook38​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @gingerchangeling​

[buffyversefanfiction]

Slayer of Slayers

Warnings: I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the copyright or characters within the Buffyverse which includes but is not limited to the television shows Buffy and Angel, as well as the Darkhorse comics series’ continuation. 15+ Strong to moderate violence, Graphic to mild descriptions of gore, and torture, sexually charged scenes, sexual innuendos, mild to strong language, and practices of witchcraft. M/M, F/F, M/F, GEN, OTHER +

Part One: City of No Angel

After being away from Los Angeles for several years the brooding vampire Angel had been convinced to return to his former city under the advice of vampire slayer Faith Lehane who herself had been sent back to L.A. due to the witch Willow Rosenberg’s concern about a growing number of vampire slayers going missing within the troubled city that once had the evil law firm, Wolfram and Hart, pulling its strings. Angel, Faith, and old one Illyria arranged to meet at Angel’s old, haunted grounds The Hyperion Hotel which had once again become abandoned like it was when he first set up home in there with his friends who became like family, most of which were long gone now. After the unlikely trio consisting of a vampire with a soul, a former goddess in a human’s body, and a redeemed former rogue slayer, met up they soon discussed the facts of the mission which had brought them all together. “So, Willow’s big plan is for me to play the role I play best, the rogue slayer, thinking that whoever’s killing slayers is probably going to like the idea of teaming up with a slayer who kills humans or used to, obviously hoping they do not know any stories of all the things I’ve done while seeking some kind of redemption.” Faith informed Angel and Illyria. “I did the covert rogue slayer thing a while back for Giles and shit got pretty messy hence why I was not doing this one solo.” “If slayers are killing out other slayers, then maybe we should not interfere I mean after all there was only ever supposed to be one at a time whereas now you throw a rock and you have yourself some superpowered woman thinking themselves as something like a god insulting actual gods like myself,” Illyria complained while making it clear she was far from happy about the rise in the quantity over slayers over recent years. Both Angel and Faith did not bother to reply to Illyria’s choice of words having both got used to the way she speaks by now and how she viewed the world and despite her literal tough outer shell, the old one was always on their side without question having somehow become her friends. The three of them were determined to get to the bottom of the mysterious case of the slayer of slayers not realizing that this mission would change everything forever…

Elsewhere, in the city of Los Angeles, the slayer of slayers was eying their next target a Knight-haired vampire slayer looking something like Faith herself, as the girl believed she had the upper hand as she ran down a dark alleyway with a male vampire running after her, believing she was luring this monster into a trap not realizing that this vampire was luring her into one as part of his master’s own devious plan, to eradicate all slayers. “Unluckily for you, you seem to have no idea that I am not your average girl!” The young vampire slayer bravely stated as the male vampire closed in towards her with his full vampire face on display. The slayer wasted no time in charging towards her undead opponent as she pulled a wooden stake out of her black leather jacket during mid-run as she launched herself into the air, throwing her body into the night sky before launching her right clenched fist down towards the vampire, punching him with force across the face as her feet fell back onto the cold hard ground. The slayer continued to fight with the vampire each of them getting several good hits on the other before the young slayer eventually got the better of the vampire, kicking his body so hard the vampire fell to the ground as the slayer launched the wooden stake into the vampire’s chest causing the vampire to explode into nothing more than a big pile of dust. “They just keep bringing slayers to my city it’s like the big man no longer cares about his chosen daughters.” An unbelievably handsome man with short jet black said to the slayer as he too appeared from out of the shadows wearing a black fishnet t-shirt flaunting his chiseled abs with skin-tight black leather jeans that clung perfectly to his impressive body making this stranger look as sinister as he did sexily. The young slayer knew instantly whoever this stranger was, he was most definitely an enemy working alongside the forces of evil and so the Knight haired woman ran towards her next opponent not realizing that this opponent would be her last as it did not take long for the handsome stranger to quickly get the better of the slayer, punching her several times across the face before kicking her in the stomach with such force the slayer fell into some nearby bins amusing the man before her as she quickly began rustling through the rubbish as she pulled herself back up onto her feet defiantly. “You do not scare me, vampire!” She lied before charging towards this mysterious man once again, as she refused to allow her growing fear to get the better of her. “Not a vampire.” The man replied as he punched her once again before grabbing the slayer by her throat and lifting her up into the air into a chokehold. “You may know me as the slayer of slayers.” Before the slayer could muster any words while under the surprisingly strong stranger’s stronghold on her neck, he threw her across the street, her head hitting off a nearby wall before her body crashed onto the ground knocking the slayer unconscious in the process. “I swear you get sexier with every slayer you slaughter!” A short dirty blonde haired male vampire said as he appeared from out of the shadows eagerly making it clear to the two men knew each other very well. “Who would think little Theo will grow up to be the ruthless slayer of slayers?” “If only mummy dearest could see me now,” Theo replied as he walked over to the vampire with a seductive smirk on his face. “Killing slayers and sleeping with vampires.” The vampire, otherwise known as Tobias, pulled the slayer of slayers, otherwise known as Theo, in towards him until the two men’s bodies were grinding against each other’s as they began kissing passionately getting off on the carnage that Theo had just created.

After a rather successful night of Tobias hunting humans and Theo capturing a vampire slayer, the dangerous duo had retreated to a demonic dive bar that they owned together and often used as their headquarters for all their hellish operations, while their demonic and monstrous clients continued to drink and often join in when they were asked of by Theo and Tobias, fearing the two too much to even consider saying no to them. “I heard you’ve got yourself another slayer, is she on the menu tonight?” Asked one of the vampires that stood at the counter breaking up Theo’s kiss with his vampire lover as the two put their focus back on their customers. “This one’s going through a little processing right now before she gets served to our public no point drinking her blood while it's still poisoned now is there?” Theo replied with a sense of casualism that could only occur from doing what he did far too often. “Pretty messed up the things you do to your own kind Theo.” A demon with snake-like skin-colored red and a lizard-like tongue said to his bartender, laughing away in respect for the monster within the man in front of him. “I’m no vampire slayer, I am a slayer of slayers it's my destiny to eradicate them all and plunge this pathetic excuse of a world into pure and utter darkness it is just a bonus I get so much pleasure in killing each and every one of them,” Theo replied to the demon. “Besides slayer’s blood sells very well and who does not love money?” “My beloved Theo is unlike any before him, he not only lives in the darkness he thrives in it, and with him, on our side, the slayers will soon be nothing more than unfond memories.” Tobias chimed in while showing genuine affection for his lover. “My only fear of course is the one slayer who always defies the odds that perky blonde one who changed everything for her kind.” “Buffy Summers is more myth than truth Tobias, I have told you that before,” Theo said to the vampire, trying to reassure him that Buffy was nowhere near as much of a threat as she was in stories they had been told. “I would not underestimate the girl who killed Angelus and The Master not to mention that goddess who almost ended the world one time.” Another vampire at the counter said, adding to the conversation within the bar. “I have the upper hand when it comes to Buffy whether she is as fearful as they say she is still a woman, a woman who had seen love and loss in her time and will no doubt be thrown back to meet her only son.” Theo declared, revealing his identity as Buffy’s son to the shocked crowd within the bar, everyone except Tobias being stunned by the slayer of slayers’ admission.

The very next day Faith found herself riding on her motorbike down a somewhat quiet road on the outskirts of Los Angeles before pulling up on the middle of the road, climbing off her motorbike, and beginning to walk further and further into the hot desert, as she pulled out her phone from her jean pocket and dialed Willow’s number before putting her on loudspeaker while continuing to walk through the desert. “I know when you think dead bodies you reckon, I am the expert, but I was better at deserting them not looking for them in a bloody desert.” Faith said with her signature sense of sarcasm after hearing Willow answer her call. “This slayer got into L.A. not long before you did Faith, we’re not sure why any slayer would be rushing to Los Angeles these days but if we failed to safe her at the very least, we should try to find answers from her death to stop it happening again,” Willow replied to her. “I get it Willow, and I’m all for helping with the bigger picture but searching for a fellow slayer’s dead body before having breakfast is not all it’s cracked up to be.” Faith complained to the red-headed witch. “I will make you all the eggs on toast if you sort out the L.A. problem. You know you’re the main girl in action with Buffy being all M.I.A. since the incident.” Willow told her while trying to butter her up, only for Faith to be left silenced by finding the body of the young slayer who looked a little too much like her for Faith’s liking. “Looks like your right once again Will.” Faith admitted as she stood over the young slayer’s lifeless body all bloodied and wounded with injuries that told a tragic tale of torture. “Whatever’s killing us slayers seem to be taking real pleasure in it…I cannot wait to kill those bastards.” “Oh, goddess, this is far from good thank the heavens you’re not going solo on this one Faith,” Willow told the former rogue slayer. “I’ll call this in to the local authorities once you have got yourself a good distance from the crime scene, you should probably report back to Angel before going in undercover on this one… the last slayer we need showing up dead next is you.” “Thanks for the sentiment Will but this is even more reason for me to get my spy mode rolling!” Faith replied to the witch before hanging up the call to her. “Rather not wait around to examine the next dead slayer who happens to look far too much like me!”

Tobias walked into the bedroom of the apartment above the dive bar which he shared with Theo, shirtless and wearing a tight boxer brief as he willingly flaunted his tanned skin, muscular frame, and handsome body while walking over to Theo who was sat on the edge of their shared bed. “You know you anger me when you question my strength in front of the customers.” Theo, who was wearing just a pair of tight white boxer briefs himself, with the rest of his own impressive body fully on show, complained to his lover. “I am mainly looking out for you, fearing for you, worrying about you, like anyone who truly loved you would,” Tobias replied as he began softly kissing Theo’s neck. “I know you are capable of anything, but I cannot help but fear that we may lose everything we have worked so hard for.” “I love you too Tobias, but you have got to have more faith in the grand plan the last thing we want is for Drusilla to learn of your doubts,” Theo said through panted breath as Tobias began working his way down Theo’s chest, kissing lower and lower, slower, and slower, as he pushed Theo back onto the bed. “I would challenge the devil himself if his plans risked your safety!” Tobias promised the man he loved before he pulled Theo’s boxers down to his ankles, proceeding to take off his own boxers and climbing onto Theo’s naked body, their two bodies crashing against each other’s, kissing passionately, as they made love to each other.

The very next night Theo had taken himself just outside of the demonic dive bar he ran with his undead partner, to enjoy a quick smoke break as he stood in the dark alleyways smoking a cigarette only to be left stunned to find a Knight haired beauty appear from around the corner, clearly walking towards him, as Theo began to wonder if he had met this woman before, noting the similarity she had to the slayer he had recently murdered. “Don’t suppose I can steal a smoke from you?” Faith asked him, knowing damn fine that this man was the man she was looking for, determined to find out more about him so she could shut down his entire operation. “Here’s the thing love, humans do not normally come around this neighborhood unless they got a death wish that is,” Theo replied to her as he suspected this woman to be another slayer, another potential victim. “I’m not fully human, I’m a vampire slayer and even then, I’m much more than just any slayer I mean I do not mean to brag but I’m probably the most famous rogue slayer to ever live the original good girl gone bad although I was never that good.” Faith revealed herself, knowing no good girls made it out of this alleyway alive. “The name’s Faith, in case you did not already work that one out.” “Rumour has it you went back to the good side even helped Buffy herself destroy a Hellmouth along with her hometown,” Theo responded, clearly knowing a little something about the vampire slayer before him. “I hate rumors I’d like to get the guy spreading that lie and cut his tongue out!” Faith lied, ready to convince this man she was as evil now as she was back when she was evil. “Heard your part of this mission about killing all slayers and I’ve been trying that one long before you, in fact, I got pretty close to killing B until the bitch gutted me that is. However, a team-up could be just what I need to take her down once and for all.” “Well then Faith,” Theo answered with a smile on his face as he threw his cigarette to the ground eagerly. “How about a drink to discuss this potential partnership?” Faith had Theo exactly where she wanted him and he had her too, Faith being determined to take down his entire operation, and Theo wanted to test the theory of whether or not Faith was really the ruthless slayer she was claiming to be, neither of them liking the answers that would follow.

[aion-rsa]

WandaVision Episode 9: The Big Questions We Need Answered

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains WandaVision spoilers.

With just one episode left in the season – and technically the series – the finale of WandaVision has a lot of ground to cover.

Its penultimate installment was not just a heartbreaking retrospective of just how terrible Wanda’s life has been and how much she has suffered, it gave us an entirely new understanding of a character that’s been part of this universe for four feature films to date. Plus, there’s the whole thing where a secret government agency appears to have reanimated Vision’s dead body to use as a weapon, and Wanda herself is most likely a legendary, all-powerful witch. 

How the series plans to wrap up these dangling plot threads in addition to laying the groundwork for the upcoming Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and establishing what comes next is anyone’s guess. But there are a few things that WandaVision is going to have to tell us in order for this series to truly stick the landing as the MCU’s most ambitious – and best – project yet. (Which right now, with one episode to go, is a title it wins by a mile.)

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Here are nine burning questions we need the WandaVision finale to answer.

What is the Scarlet Witch?

In an episode filled almost to bursting with surprisingly rich callbacks to multiple MCU films, the biggest moment was still probably Wanda being directly referred to as the Scarlet Witch for the first time. But what that actually means is anyone’s guess. 

Sure, she’s powerful enough to literally rewrite reality and turn a run-down New Jersey town into a classic sitcom paradise. But that’s not exactly news – she did destroy an Infinity Stone and almost take down Thanos in the Avengers movies. Agatha bestows the name upon her as though it means something significant, as if Wanda’s some sort of magical harbinger that has a larger role to play in…something (and the Scarlet Witch costume Wanda sees in her vision would seem to back that up). But who or what is she?

What Does Agatha Harkness Actually Want?

Most of us have assumed that Agatha Harkness must technically be the Big Bad of WandaVision – I mean, the song says that she’s been pulling every evil string, c’mon – but “Previously On” hints that may not entirely be the case. The creation of Westview was clearly a result of Wanda’s chaos magic, so…what is Agatha doing there? And what is her ultimate goal?

Has she sought Wanda out simply to determine where her power comes from? To try and steal it for herself? To suss out another powerful witch to become besties with? (Agatha was Wanda’s mentor in the comics.) 

Are we meant to read Agatha as a true villain – or something more complicated? I mean, she does put Wanda’s kids in choke collar leashes, but whether that’s out of a desire to protect herself from the Scarlet Witch or to use her in some way is still unclear.

Is Vision Somehow Alive Again?

Well, there go our theories that poor Wanda has just been puppeting her dead boyfriend’s corpse around Westview (thankfully – that idea was always dark af). Instead, it appears that this is more of a Vision 2.0, a being created by a combination of an incredibly powerful dose of Wanda’s chaos magic, her memories of the man she loved, and the overwhelming grief she can’t seem to control.  But does that mean Vision is actually alive? Like, could appear in another MCU film, alive?  And if so, why can’t he leave the boundaries of the Hex? Does he even have a physical body, or is his form just a Wanda-powered projection?

What is Tyler Hayward’s Endgame – and Why Is He Trying to Blame Wanda for it?

One of the biggest revelations in “Previously On” was that Wanda did not, in fact, storm into SWORD headquarters and steal back her boyfriend’s dead body. Instead, she actually experienced a quietly shattering moment of grief in which she accepted that the Vision she loved was truly gone. So…why did SWORD director Tyler Hayward not only insist that she did, he literally put together a deep fake video to prove it?

Hayward has been a fairly shady figure since he first appeared on WandaVision, but this is some next-level mustache-twirling stuff. Has he just been trying to turn Vision’s body into a weapon – seemingly mission accomplished there – or has he been crafting a much larger and more nefarious scheme? 

After all, he is on record as hating the superpowered beings that he believes are responsible for both the Snap that erased half the population and the Blip that brought everyone back but ultimately devastated those left behind in the meantime. Is the White Vision his revenge on Wanda – and those like her – in some way? (Truly, so many problems could be solved in the universe of the MCU if people just got some help for their PTSD, but that’s a rant for another day.) Or is Hayward’s scheme more complicated in some way?

What is the Purpose of the White Vision?

The Dr. Manhattan-esque White Vision revealed in this week’s credits scene is both creepy and heartbreaking at the same time. The real Vision, after all, had specifically requested that he not be brought back or used as some kind of weapon after his death. And now he’s been made into what is likely some sort of soulless killing machine, using his soulmate’s magic and against his own wishes. How Hayward figured out how to reanimate Vision, what vibranium he was tracking in the Hex, and what he intends to do with this new weapon he’s made are all outstanding questions. But none of them likely have happy answers. 

Look, we probably have to start preparing ourselves now emotionally for the fact that Wanda is going to have to fight the reanimated body of her dead lover, who probably won’t even remember her name. And she’ll have to do it with the magical recreation of him she made in Westview at her side, in a battle that will more than likely destroy both Visions by the end of it.

And at this point, we’re going to need a WandaVision Season 2 in order to deal with Wanda’s trauma from all of that (that’s not a complaint, by the way).

Is Wanda a Mutant Now?

With the X-Men franchise officially part of the MCU, the question has to be asked: Is Wanda Maximoff officially a mutant now? Her exposure to the Mind Stone clearly triggered or otherwise activated some latent abilities – powers that the show implied would have vanished otherwise.

Wanda and Pietro appear to be the only two individuals who survived HYDRA’s attempts to create supervillains using the Mind Stone. Does this mean that Pietro’s survival also indicates that his powers were merely latent and then “activated” by their experiments?

Does this twist give Wanda back her official mutant roots, or is it just an origin story for witches in the Marvel universe? 

Where’s Monica?

When last we saw Monica Rambeau, she was getting busted for snooping by Agatha’s nebulously explained fake version of Pietro Maximoff. Since she doesn’t appear in “Previously On” we’re still not sure where she is, what’s happened to her in the meantime, or what role she has to play in the finale. 

One has to assume she’ll show up to fight at Wanda’s side – whether that’s against Agatha or the White Vision or both – but how? 

We also don’t know much yet about her superpowers. We’re all assuming she’s basically just inheriting her comics abilities as Spectrum, but will those abilities work outside of the Hex or without Wanda to power them?

What Does This All Mean for Pietro?

Though we journey back to the HYDRA base in which Wanda and her brother were experimented on, we don’t see any hint of Pietro in this episode (and, no, the child version doesn’t count). We know that the Evan Peters version is a fake conjured by Agatha to pry information on how she created the Hex out of Wanda – how is she powering that by the way? And how does Fake Pietro know so much real Maximoff history? – but what does all this new backstory mean for the Maximoff brother who died? 

What happened to Pietro when he encountered the Mind Stone? Were his powers also latent and only “activated” by the stone like Wanda’s (and thus making him a mutant)? And does any of this somehow open a door to bring Quicksilver back to the MCU?

Who is the Aerospace Engineer?

Yes, we’ve all apparently spent weeks thinking about a throwaway line from Monica back in WandaVision’s fifth episode, in which she references an aerospace engineer she knows who might be up for the challenge of figuring out the Hex. 

Maybe it’s nothing, but this is Marvel, so it’s almost guaranteed not to be nothing. 

Could Monica’s mysterious friend be Reed Richards and could SWORD serve as a way to finally introduce the Fantastic Four into the MCU? It’s more than possible – it’s practically likely at this point. There are other options – Victor Von Doom and Hank McCoy are also notable Marvel scientists we’ve yet to meet in the MCU – but doesn’t Reed just make the most sense?

How Will WandaVision  Lead Into Doctor Strange 2?

One of the few things we do know about the WandaVision finale is that it’s somehow connected to and will likely lead directly into the upcoming MCU film Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. At this point, it seems safe to say that Wanda is more likely than not responsible for both the multiverse and the madness parts of that title, and the finale will involve her somehow fully becoming the Scarlet Witch and unleashing some cosmic chaos powers. But where does that kind of ending leave  Wanda and Vision? Will Doctor Strange himself show up – either to defeat the White Vision or stop Wanda from ripping down the walls of reality? Will Vision have to die again? And how does Agatha Harkness fit into things? (At this point, she’s more than earned a place in Doctor Strange 2, if you ask me.)

The post WandaVision Episode 9: The Big Questions We Need Answered appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3uM3kTd

[captjameshookthoughts]

So this is something from the THING I am writing that’s actually from nearly the very beginning ad not just random fluff or angst or whatever. Makes a change

The water was cold and oddly still, each moment felt like it took an eternity to pass. This had to be the end, James thought, at last he could rest. He had fought, like he had so many times before, and he had lost like he had lost before. Unlike his previous losses, his previous failings, this defeat felt different. Final, he thought. The end. In the water, bleeding, the incessant tick-tock that had plagued him growing ever closer and the imposing silhouette of his ship fading further away. James Hook was not afraid. He had been afraid for so long, afraid of death, afraid of being alone. But now, as his end was coming, he was not afraid. The crocodile would take him. Of that, he was sure. The crocodile was bigger than any crocodile should be, big enough to swallow a grown man whole. Big enough that no hunter on the island had dared try to make a prize of it. It had haunted James for a very long time, James had once sought to kill the beast, he had come close to doing it too. This animal, like so many other entities in Neverland, was aligned with Pan - or at the very least controlled by him. It had been this way ever since James had lost his right hand, and now the beast was upon him, ending what had been started so long ago.

James closed his eyes, waiting for the jaws to encompass him, to break through his bones, destroy him completely and free him from this cursed life. Then, just as the beast opened wide, Neverland said 'No'. A huge wave grew beneath and crashed against the sandy shore, bringing both James and the crocodile with it. James coughed, the salty water exited his body just as violently as it had entered, and suddenly he was enraged. A storm brewed overhead, he stood and looked to the sky.

"What do you want from me?" James screamed.

He had never before acknowledged Neverland as something with its own desires. He didn't exactly believe in that. He had heard it said that Neverland was more than a place, that it was a living being with desires and needs. He had heard Neverland described as something like a god, but older than any god he had heard of. It was clear now that if Neverland was alive, if it wanted things, then right now it wanted James alive.

"Do you just want me to suffer?" He asked, still looking into the sky.

He swore loudly as the rain began to pour and the crocodile approached him once more. James reached for the large, and heavy dagger still attached to his belt. The calm he had felt in the water was now gone, all he had was rage. He wanted to fight, he wanted to kill. James moved swiftly, not thinking on his actions at all. Instinct guided him. His mind could barely keep up with his body. It happened quickly, the crocodile lurching forwards, its jaws closing around the hard casing that enclosed what remaioof Jame's right arm, and then a dagger plunged into the back of the beast's skull. The crocodile stopped suddenly, blood pouring steadily from the wound, and then the beast collapsed. Dead. James yanked his arm free of the beast and tried to remove his dagger from the lifeless body of his old foe, but it was stuck. The more he pulled at it, the bloodier his hand became and the harder it was to make the dagger budge. He took a deep and frustrated breath, considering his next move.

His ship was gone, but it would return - it always did. He was cold, and wet. Aside from the metal hook he had in place of a right hand, he was weaponless. As it stood, even his hook seemed useless, it had been blunted by the battle upon his ship. James screamed, and kicked the motionless crocodile beside him, feeling much more like a pirate again, feeling more like the monster people believed him to be.

"Fuck."

This was not how he thought his day would go. He had awoken as Captain James Hook, on his ship with plans of drinking his own weight in rum and forgetting his troubles for a while. Instead he had been accosted by Pan and his lost children for another battle he couldn't possibly win. For a brief moment he had thought it would be his last battle. No more Captain Hook on the seas. The water should have taken his body, washed the pirate away, leaving only a trace of the man behind. Hook had been ready for death, ready to shed his darkness and be just James once more. Neverland clearly had other plans. The fight had felt like an end, but really it had just been another beginning. The start of something else. The pirate groaned, his back ached, and he was cold.

"Fuck."

He stretched his arms in front of him, trying to ease the pain, but it was no good. Stretching didn't help, it hardly ever helped. He turned and looked to the trees in the distance. It wasn't so far, he thought, to the cave where he had left a chest for situations such as the one he was in. Only an hours walk for someone who knew the way.

Just as he made his first steps towards the forest, the pirate stopped. A bright light approached him. Many people would have thought this to be a fairy. James Hook knew otherwise. Neverland was home to many strange and mystical things. Fairies, mermaids, nymphs, ghosts, and the things that he knew as 'spirits'. He did not trust the spirits, he didn't trust many things, but he trusted the woman who they often worked with. He stared at the light, waiting.

It spoke in many voices all at the same time.

"You shouldn't leave the beach." It said

"It's raining. I'm cold, wet, I'm tired, and I'm covered in blood. I want to go somewhere dry to make a fire and get some fucking rest."

"She wants you to stay."

"I don't give a shit about what that witch wants right now. I'm going."

"As you wish, Captain Hook."

Hook's blood froze when the spirit uttered those last two words, it sounded more like a prison sentence than a name. Like he had lost an opportunity to be James once again without even knowing the opportunity was there in the first place. He stormed towards the forest, and away from the beach, full of anger. He was angry at himself for having become this way, and angry at the world he lived in for forcing him into this role. He thought he would have been better off had he just let the crocodile have him, death would have freed him. He would have died alone, and unloved, but he would have been free. Free of Neverland, free of Pan, and free of himself. He laughed, bitterly at himself. When he was younger, when he really was just a young man called James, he had believed piracy to be freeing in its own way. It had freed him from his father, it had freed him from much of his past, even in his earlier days in Neverland he had felt free. The gold, riches, and power he had accumulated in this strange land had felt like freedom. James hadn't noticed how he had been changed by this freedom until it seemed all too late. He hadn't been evil, of that he was sure. Sometimes he had even been kind, but stories of kindness and virtue were never so interesting to the masses as stories of violence and cruelty.

His reputation had become a cage that seemed impossible to escape, he had been a monster, a murderer, the devil, a warning to ill-behaved children.

"If you don't behave, Captain Hook will come and take you away."

He had been a demon, a thief, a nightmare, a criminal, and even fear itself. These were the stories that lived on, how few people remembered that he had also been a lover, an intellectual, an ally, someone who had provided food to the hungry. Sometimes he even forgot these things about himself. It was easy to play the part of a monster when that was all people could see in him.

Hook often had these thoughts about himself, his role, and his identity. It always sent him into a pit of melancholy and hopelessness. On this night, as he finally approached the cave, he felt lower than he had felt in a long time. Being without his ship, in the rain only served to emphasise the complete loneliness that appeared to be inherent to his very existence. Who could ever see a monster and want to come close? Who could ever see the man beneath when Hook could hardly see it himself? Who could ever love him when so many of those horrifying tales were true?

He tried to clear his mind as he entered the cave and began feeling around for the chest he had left behind. The cave was cold, but at least it was dry. As he fumbled with the chest latch, Hook found his thoughts to be more and more intrusive. He bit at his lip at an attempt to distract himself with the sharp pain.

"Just let me get this fucking fire lit."

He pleaded with himself, begging for a moments peace, to no avail. He swore loudly as he burnt his fingers, too distracted to keep the tinder still. He continued stubbornly with a set of strikers, after burning himself once more the fire was lit. Hook breathed deeply, soaking up the new warmth and then returned to his chest to take out an old bed roll and blanket. He doubted that he would sleep that night, but he had to try. If he was asleep, at least he wouldn't be thinking.

[tvdversefanfiction]

Canary Carnage

Chapter Thirteen: Killer Carnage

Warnings: I don’t own any of the rights, content or characters belonging to any of the DC content I use within the story along with not owning any rights, content or characters within The Vampire Diaries, Originals or Legacies.

18 Rating: Moderate/Graphic displays of violence, sexual innuendos, sexually charged scenes, SMUT, strong language and potentially triggering scenes.

Pairings: M/M, F/F, M/F.

Elijah Mikaelson couldn’t help but to be left feeling uneasy following Laurel Lance returning to New Orleans permanently although he definitely enjoyed having her back he could help but feel guilty for wanting her back in a city that held so much pain for the both of them.

However it was Lucas Lance’s return or rather the arrival of his Earth X doppelganger Lucas Wayne that Elijah was much more concerned by and so he wasted very little time in getting to know the infamous Blue Canary, quickly discovering that Lucas Wayne was a far cry from Lucas Lance.

Although there were similarities between the two doppelgangers other than their looks: Both Lucas’ were smart and calculating with a determined drive to stay alive, both had complicated relationships with their biological mothers and both had managed to capture the attention of Elijah’s brother Klaus Mikaelson much to everyone’s worries considering how bad the original hybrid’s curiosity with Lucas Lance ended.

“I see your settling into New Orleans rather well Mr Wayne.” Elijah greeted the Earth X doppelganger after vamp speeding into Rousseau's, speeding over to the bar counter to find Lucas Wayne serving drinks to customers with Josh stood by his side. “I believe your also living with the Lance sisters at their hotel.”

“I’ve got this,” Lucas told Josh before walking over to face off with the noble original vampire, leaving Josh to tend to customers as he spoke to Elijah. “The pristine suit which looks pricy as hell must mean you’re Elijah Mikaelson. I’ve met your brother Klaus he’s what I call an original stalker of sorts.”

“My brother Niklaus is merely being cautious you see your doppelganger Lucas Lance proved himself rather troublesome for everyone including himself and we don’t want a repeat of that for everyone’s sakes…especially your mother’s.” Elijah informed the Blue Canary.

“I get it Lucas Lance was the villain in your story but in mine people like you, your siblings and god even my mother were the villains.” Lucas replied to Elijah. “I’m here because I have nowhere else to go and I’m beginning to believe I’m here to save this city.”

“What is it you think that this city needs saving from?” Elijah scoffed at him as he took a seat at the counter.

“First guess would be the vampires who treat humans like walking snacks, the wolves keep themselves to themselves so they’re not on the agenda and the witches are pretty hit and miss.” Lucas answered him before going over to pour the original a glass of straight whisky before walking back over and serving Elijah his drink. “I’m not coming for anyone in particular but I won’t stand by if anyone or anything comes for the few innocents around here.”

“Are you threatening me Mr Wayne or are you threatening my entire family?” Elijah asked him before taking a drink of his whisky, only to smile at the taste of this whisky. “I guess you’re the kind of bartender who knows their customer’s drink.”

“I like Sara and I’m even fond of Laurel so when they tell me somebody’s good I’ll accept it until they prove otherwise however nobody has anything nice to say about Klaus Mikaelson and his stalking of me isn’t helping me think otherwise.” Lucas admitted to Elijah. “As for your drink consider it on me as a thanks for putting your brother in line…unless you want me to do the job for you?”

“My brother Niklaus isn’t someone who is easily handled especially considering how fond he was of your doppelganger…personally I didn’t see why.” Elijah informed Lucas before downing his drink and placing the empty glass onto the counter. “I much prefer this Lucas standing in front of me however morals are a rare thing around here and they tend to get you killed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind Mr Mikaelson.” Lucas responded with a sincere smile on his face before Elijah vamp sped out of Rousseau's and out of sight.

“Declaring war on the Mikaelson’s doesn’t end well for you trust me my friend Marcel once thought he could survive that family and let’s just say you won’t see him in New Orleans anymore.” Josh warned Lucas as he walked over to his new employee. “He was considered family to them as well.”

“I’ve dealt with murderous mothers, overbearing fathers, endless superhuman enemies and literally Nazi’s in my time I’m sure I can handle a vampire or two.” Lucas boasted to his vampire boss only to be met by Josh laughing at him.

“Funny your less evil than your evil twin but your just as foolish.” Josh scoffed at the Blue Canary. “Forgive me for my advice I’m just the only person in this city that doesn’t seem to have a death wish.”

Josh Rosza was far wiser than his years but hid behind an adorable yet admit-tingly dorky personality which had served him very well as a vampire especially considering everyone around him had died and yet he continued to advise his friends to follow suit only to see them take different paths.

His first greatest loss was the love of his life Aiden who fell victim to the Mikael’s ruthless aunt Dahlia before he found himself losing his best friend Davina several times before losing her for what seemed like for good and in the last five years alone he had lost his close friend Marcel Gerard again due to the Mikaelson’s.

When Davina first returned to New Orleans five years ago Josh’s biggest fear was losing her again to a doomed fate but instead, she gave up her need for vengeance against Klaus as she fell back in love with Kol and got married.

Although the wonder witch still lived in the city their friendship had changed and became strained as Josh made clear his distaste over their handling of Marcel Gerard. Josh was determined to find Marcel being the only one who hadn’t given up on the updated original and that put a strain on his relationship with Davina Claire-Mikaelson.

However, in the last five years he had found himself forming a new friendship with the Black Canary keeping in touch over his mission to find his friend and her mission to save the world and now he had her son, or at least some version of her son, working for him and feared Lucas Wayne would either follow the same path as his doppelganger Lucas Lance or his estranged friend Davina.

Five years earlier Klaus Mikaelson had found himself growing rather close to Lucas Lance despite a determination to do anything considering the Red Canary was selfish, reckless, manipulative and calculating, all the things Klaus used to be before he became a father. It took him time to realize that what attracted him most to Lucas was how much the canary reminded him of himself.

Of course it grew more complicated as he learned more about the Red Canary realizing the meta-human was nowhere near as heartless as he’d have liked people to admit and far more troubled than even he realized unleashing Klaus’ need to want to help Lucas find his way like his siblings and his daughter helped him but unlike Klaus’ long and immortal life the Red Canary’s life was cut short.

Lucas Lance was never a great love of his life and Klaus doubted he would’ve been had they been together longer but his memory did serve as a painful reminder of a time he failed somebody he actually wanted to help and therefore the arrival of Lucas’ Earth X doppelganger Lucas Wayne only served to remind the original hybrid even more and for that reason he had been avoiding the Blue Canary like a plague until he was told to do exactly that and Klaus Mikaelson never did what he was told.

“Listen up Klaus because I’m only going to say this once under no circumstances whatsoever are you to come near Lucas. The last thing we need right now is your undead ass fucking up my sister’s chance of getting to know her son.” Sara demanded as she walked into the compound to find Klaus stood waiting for her.

“Just because my sister has grown fond of you doesn’t mean I’m not going to tear your head off for the nerve of trying to make demands of me besides the last Lucas found more danger with you than he ever did with me.” Klaus snapped back at the White Canary.

“That was different…we had just lost our mother…we thought there was no going back for him.” Sara replied with a clear sense of regret in her voice. “This is our chance to do right by him.”

“The only problem with that logic is Lucas Wayne isn’t Lucas Lance which means he’s not your nephew or your sister’s son. You’ve just let some stranger straight into your home because he looks familiar.” Klaus told her with a hint of judgement on his face, knowing Sara, Laurel and Rebekah were to blame for Lucas Lance’s demise.

“He is Lucas though or at least the way Lucas used to be until everything went to shit. This version of him is kind, loyal and heroic just like the baby brother I grew up with.” Sara admitted to the original hybrid as tears formed in her eyes. “He may have a different history and he may not know me or Laurel but he’s so much like the Lucas I used to know it makes me feel…”

“Guilty that you gave up on the original?” Klaus butted in, all too eager to make the canary feel even more guilty. “He’s not your second chance Sara and he’s not going to make it right how you and your sister plotted to murder your own blood all because he had an episode or two.”

“He murdered our mother that’s not an episode or two!” Sara reminded Klaus, furious that the original would dismiss her mother’s death like it was nothing, also furious that she gave up on her adoptive brother so easily and that he was reminding her of how she failed him. “Please just stay the hell away from this Lucas!”

“I’ll take it into consideration Miss Lance.” Klaus lied, knowing damn fine he was now going to make himself well known to the Blue Canary.

Klaus Mikaelson initially had no intention to have any contact with Lucas Wayne following their initial meeting weeks ago but after learning how much Sara Lance wanted him to stay away he just couldn’t pass an opportunity to put the White Canary in her place still loathing her for murdering his elder sister Freya Mikaelson and holding her just as responsible for Laurel in the parts they played in Lucas Lance’s death.

In fact, Klaus genuinely believed he had moved on from Lucas Lance’s death but the idea of his family being so quick to embrace a purer version of him angered the original hybrid far more than he thought it would and now he wanted to teach the Lance sisters a lesson for dishonoring the memory of a man they helped murder.

Caitlin Snow was a powerful woman long before she discovered she was a meta-human working as a well-respected bio-engineer at S.T.A.R. Labs alongside her fiancé Ronnie Raymond who was a structural engineer for the company but everything changed for her upon her fiance's mysterious disappearance eventually turning her from a loving and caring woman to someone with an ice cold heart as Killer Frost was born.

Caitlin chose a life of villainy following her heartbreak after discovering her powers of thermometric cryokinesis taking on the villainess mantle as Killer Frost leaving Caitlin Snow and all she worked for behind which led to her becoming enemies with some of the most powerful heroes including the Black Canary.

Killer Frost had a long and complicated history with Laurel Lance having once been best friends with the canary only to later become obsessed in bringing her down always failing until the death of the multiverse gave her an opportunity to arrive on Earth X, a world which followed none of the rules that the other worlds did in the now dead multiverse.

The realization that the Black Canary currently residing within Earth X wasn’t the Black Canary from her world hadn’t stopped her obsession especially with Killer Frost’s new friends, all of which were determined to destroy at least one if not all three of the canaries within New Orleans.

“In such a big and busy city, it’s quite remarkable to find such peace in a quiet little place like this.” Frost stated as she walked into the quiet Rousseau's bar to find Lucas Wayne stood behind the bar wiping down the counter. “Either you’re a really bad bartender or people are scared to come into this establishment.”

“I guess you’re officially stopping me from having to close anytime soon.” Lucas greeted the long white-haired woman as she walked over to the bar and sat down at the counter. “You look strangely familiar…have we met before?”

“Nope you don’t exist in my timeline or my world which also doesn’t exist anymore.” She replied, making it clear to the Blue Canary that she was from the multiverse. “This world is quite intriguing, but the only downfall seems to be there’s one too many Lances around here.”

“I’m a Wayne not a Lance but I’m more interested in who the bloody hell you are?” Lucas wondered just as Laurel walked into the bar looking horrified to see Killer Frost, who instantly rose from her chair and turned around to face the Black Canary.

“Killer Frost…you’re supposed to be long dead not to mention the world itself died after you!” Laurel said in shock, clearly uneasy to see an old foe.

“I’m not exactly the Killer Frost you know but I hate you just as much if not more.” Frost revealed to Laurel, as she found herself stood between both canaries. “If you think your Earth X son was the only one to jump ship before the death of the multiverse than you thought wrong.”

“You should leave now before you wind up just as dead as your other doppelgangers!” Laurel warned Frost, with a look of hatred in her eyes, a look Lucas had never seen from the Black Canary but had seen from the Black Siren one time too many.

“My father told me all about you, you were long dead on my Earth too but you were quite the formidable foe before that…in my world you were my twisted mother’s closest confidant so it only makes sense you hate the good versions of her.” Lucas piped in, once again showing a vast knowledge about the multiverse.

“You’re so much more than just a looker if only you were a bit redder instead of blue we may have got along!” Killer Frost told Lucas before lifting her hand in his direction shooting out a large ice blast from the palm of her hands as Laurel released a canary cry in her direction, the ice blast hitting Lucas and throwing him into the glass cabinet filled with alcohol destroying it before throwing Lucas down to the ground, as Laurel’s canary cry sent the villainess Killer Frost flying across the bar before hitting a wall and crash landing onto the ground.

“I warned you to get the hell out of here Caitlin!” Laurel shouted at the doppelganger of her nemesis. “Now I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”

The Blue Canary and Killer Frost both rose to their feet at the same time, the Blue Canary ready to charge at the villainess white haired woman while the white haired woman had all eyes on the Black Canary but before anyone could attack Klaus vamp sped into the bar, speeding all the way over to Lucas before grabbing a hold of him and vamp speeding out of Rousseau's with the Blue Canary leaving a confused Laurel Lance standing alone in the bar with her nemesis Caitlin Snow.

“Well I was planning on killing you both, but I suppose I’m not totally pissed it’s just you and me now!” Killer Frost told the Black Canary before raising her hand to release another ice blast in Laurel’s direction, just as Laurel released a large canary cry in the direction of the villainess.

If Laurel was going to win against Caitlin Snow’s ruthless alter ego Killer Frost then she had better get her head in the game but with the doppelganger of her son just being kidnapped by Klaus Mikaelson she couldn’t help but worry about Lucas Wayne and what the original hybrid had in store for him.

Klaus Mikaelson had learned a lot about the canaries during the five years in which Sara and Laurel had clashed with him and his family and although his siblings had built friendships with the Lance sisters he had kept wary of them deciding to instead study the canaries and learn their weaknesses.

Klaus was forever paranoid about betrayals and potential feuds after all his family’s worst enemies tended to be close allies at some stage before turning against them and so he found it wiser to study all that came into his life knowing how best to take them both down if he needed to, which he always did.

He knew Laurel’s canary cry was pretty powerful so much so that it destroyed the hollow and their blood was special enough to restore Elijah’s memories and he also knew the canaries could die just like Lucas Lance died or be turned into a vampire like Sara Lance.

The canaries were powerful but only as powerful as their cry or at least that’s what Klaus believed and thanks to a brief alliance with Nyssa al Ghul he knew exactly how to deal with a canary cry putting the Blue Canary exactly where he wanted him.

“This should give us some proper time alone!” Klaus stated after vamp speeding into Lafayette Cemetery with Lucas and putting a power dampening collar around the son of batman’s neck. “Don’t want you getting any advantage over me with that damn canary cry.”

Lucas wasted no time in grabbing a hold of the original hybrid’s arm as he bent himself over and threw Klaus over his back until the vampire hit the ground with force while Lucas twisted his arm, popping the arm out of its socket before harshly stomping his foot down on Lucas’ throat, easing off just enough to let the hybrid speak.

“I don’t need a cry to kick your ass Klaus!” Lucas shouted at him before Klaus grabbed a hold of the Blue Canary and flung him over his body forcing the canary to land on the ground next to the vampire, as Klaus popped his arm back into its socket after a series of groans.

“I hate you!” Klaus furiously stated to Lucas as he climbed on top of his body, preparing to strangle the canary only to be headbutt in the face by Lucas, followed by Lucas kicking the vampire upwards, before Klaus finally found his footing as Lucas stood up to face him.

“You don’t even know me!” Lucas snapped back at Klaus before the original hybrid sped towards him, only for the Blue Canary to deliver a series of punches across the vampire’s face before Klaus threw him to the ground, Lucas grabbing a hold of Klaus, making the vampire fall on top of the canary.

“I…” Klaus said before pausing as he looked into the eyes of the Blue Canary, as hidden feelings began to rise and suddenly the vampire found himself kissing a stunned Lucas only for Lucas to respond by grabbing the vampire and throwing his body over his own, making Klaus hit the ground harshly once again as Lucas rose to his feet.

“What the hell do you think your doing?” Lucas questioned Klaus, as Klaus quickly stood back up, both looking as confused as the other.

“You just look so much like him…” Klaus reluctantly admitted to the canary. “I guess the only reason I want you dead is because your forcing me to feel something I don’t want to feel.”

“I surprisingly understand where you’re coming from I mean I’m not going around trying to kill then kiss people but it’s not easy seeing a doppelganger of my mother whose nothing like her so I can only imagine how hard it must be to see a doppelganger of somebody you were once in love with.” Lucas replied to Klaus, surprising the original with his kindness.

“I was never in love with Lucas Lance…I cared for him, but I never loved him.” Klaus revealed to the Blue Canary, admitting not only to him but himself. “I don’t normally try to be a hero, but I really wanted to save him and not because I loved him but because he reminded me of him.”

“Sara filled me in on how you used to be a lot worse than what you are now which is saying something if this is the filtered down version.” Lucas joked with Klaus as he sat down on a nearby wall. “I guess my doppelganger reminded you of just how bad you were, how far you’ve come and how much better your life is because of it. You wanted that for him because if he could get it someone who was probably nowhere near as ruthless as you once were then in some way it’d be like you deserved the life your living but instead he got took down and you can’t help but think maybe you should’ve been taken out too.”

“Are you seriously trying to psychoanalyze me because I can promise you, I’m nowhere near as deep as you’re assuming, I am nor do I regret any action I’ve made in the past.” Klaus argued with Lucas, refusing to admit there was some truth in Lucas’ words.

“Sometimes heroes last long enough to become villains and sometimes villains find their way back to heroes once more but that’s not on anybody if they don’t find their way back least of all a thousand year old vampire whose actions are morally questionable on a good day.” Lucas explained to Klaus, as Klaus sat down next to the Blue Canary, listening to him despite looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. “I’m not Lucas Lance but I’m not some pillar of purity and goodness either we live in a grey world Klaus although admittedly redder here on Earth Blood. I can’t say what happened to my doppelganger was the right way to handle him nor it was the wrong way but what I can say is he’s not me and he’s not you either…it’s time to let it go.”

Lucas was right about Klaus holding onto the past righter than he could have possibly known as Klaus realized the words coming out of this Earth X doppelganger were wise and if he was wise, he’d take the Blue Canary’s advice.

It was in that moment for the first time since Lucas Wayne had arrive on Earth Blood that Klaus Mikaelson had started to see the Blue Canary for who he was and not just who he reminded him of.

Laurel Lance’s history with her world’s Caitlin Snow was very different to the one she had currently found herself coming face to face with: they had never been friends just enemies and it wasn’t the death of Ronnie Raymond which led to the birth of her world’s Killer Frost it was the death of Barry Allen which was her world’s first flash before Wally West took over the mantle.

Laurel may have never seen a good side to Killer Frost but she knew people who did such as Cisco Ramone and Wally West and it was those friendships that constantly put her at odds with the villainess making the Black Canary very wary of the manic meta-human but not fully unaware of her potential to be redeemed.

The Black Canary and Killer Frost’s fight lasted for a long time much to the expense of Rousseau's which had been destroyed from the inside out with broken tables, chairs and bottles spread across the floor with planks of wood and glass scattered everywhere as Laurel found herself beaten, broken and bruised while laid on a floor covered in the ruins of Rousseau's as Killer Frost stood above her looking victorious.

“I’ve always wanted to kill Laurel Lance, but I never thought it would be this easy.” Frost said while taunting Laurel, ready to kill the Black Canary. “It’s just a shame you’re the one who made it here but oh well every Laurel’s practically the same even the not so pure ones.”

“You are better than this Caitlin! I may not know this version of you but every version of you becomes like this because you lose someone you love.” Laurel told the white-haired woman, hoping to appeal to some humanity within her. “I lost my son my actual son and it broke me more than I ever thought it would but what your doing isn’t going to bring them back it’s just dishonoring their memory and what they meant to you.”

“Yeah here’s the thing I no longer care about anyone or anything.” Killer Frost replied as she magically formed an ice pick above her hand from out of thin air before Lucas sped into Rousseau's and clipped the power dampener collar around the white-haired woman’s neck before throwing her to the floor much to Laurel’s relief.

“You’re not going to believe me when I say this, but Klaus Mikaelson actually comes in handy from time to time!” Lucas declared as he walked over to Laurel, offering his hand to her and helping her get back onto her feet.

“Funnily enough I do believe it he always did have a soft spot for that face.” Laurel admitted to Lucas before the both turned to look at a pissed off Killer Frost whose was slowly getting back on her feet as her white hair turned brown.

“What are we going to do about little miss frosty?” Lucas asked Laurel who surprised him with a smile on her face as she watched Killer Frost’s hair turn completely brown.

“We’re going to help Killer Frost find Caitlin Snow once more.” Laurel revealed to a surprised Lucas, who was in awe of this version of his mother’s sense of forgiveness and kindness.

“Okay…but we’re going to need a cage or something to keep her in the meantime.” Lucas suggested just as Klaus sped into Rousseau's with a sinister smirk on his face.

“I may have a prison or two I’d be willing to lend the canaries…pending negotiations of course.” Klaus was eager to inform them all.

“Of course, you do!” Laurel scoffed while rolling her eyes, as she noticed Lucas and Klaus sharing a smile that made her feel very uneasy.

Laurel Lance had to deal with a lot since arriving on Earth Blood firstly the Mikaelson’s, then her twisted brother, then the Mikaelson’s and her brother only to then find out that baby brother of hers was actually her son before having to watch him meet a grizzly end but as she stood in the ruins of Rousseau's feeling the chemistry between Lucas Wayne and Klaus Mikaelson she had finally realized this was her all-time low.

The Black Canary was never a fan of the original hybrid, but she couldn’t argue with his weird sense of loyalty towards her son Lucas Lance even if it did confuse her she was happy someone was on his side especially considering she couldn’t be. However the Earth X doppelganger of her son Lucas Wayne was kind, honorable and loving, everything she believed Klaus Mikaelson wasn’t and the last thing she wanted was for the Blue Canary to end up just as bad if not worse than the Red Canary.

[lady-divine-writes]

The Prince of the Sea and his Child of Fire - Chapter 12/15 (Rated NC17)

Summary: Blaine is a water sprite, prince of the undersea kingdom and sole heir to the throne. Five days away from turning seventeen and his big coronation, he decides to take a journey to the surface, to seek out a legendary flame said to be tended by an evil witch. Instead of a witch, he finds something else entirely ...

Kurt is a fire fairy, prince of a race of fire fairies and heir to the throne. Five days away from turning seventeen (on the night of a full solar eclipse when he will transform and become king), he sees for the first time in his life a water sprite - a member of a race that he's been raised to hate.

What will happen when these two mortal enemies fall in love? Is there any way for them to escape destiny and be together?

Read on AO3

Chapter 12

Kurt watches the guards gather twigs from around the meadow and quickly construct a second, slightly larger cage. When the structure is complete, they transfer the struggling sprite from one to the other. They lower the cage into the water of a hidden pool via several thick vines, securing it in the shadow of the briars. Blaine will be safe from the sunlight there, but he will have an unobstructed view of the meadow - and Kurt's coronation.

Blaine looks only at Kurt as they lower him into the water, begging silently with his eyes for the fairy prince to change his mind. Kurt mournfully shakes his head. He looks away from his love, his heart splintering like glass with the effort it takes to leave Blaine alone in yet another cold, dark prison.

"I'm so glad I raised such an intelligent son," Elizabeth says, tossing a handful of peonies into the flame and filling the cove with a soft, pink glow. "A son who can see reason, who knows his rightful place and owns up to his responsibilities. Oh, you may have strayed, but in the end, you understand your duty. You will be a virtue to the throne."

Kurt kneels in the grass, letting servants from the palace dress him in royal garb, put crowns of flowers in his hair and cover his face in powders and paints until he is nearly unrecognizable.

"There was a time when I would have done anything for you, Mother," he says, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Done anything to hear those words of praise from your lips. But now …"

"Now what, my son?" Elizabeth asks, barely regarding Kurt as she gathers more flowers for the flame.

"Now I do none of this for your empty praise, or for you." Kurt's eyes drift to the pool and the golden eyes staring at him. "I'll become king, but it's not for you or my kingdom. It's for him." He swallows back a sob, erases the grimace from his face, and tries his best to smile. "It's all for him."

"You are a fool," Elizabeth says of her son, gazing up at the darkening sky. "But soon it will not matter. You will be king. You will inherit my powers. And when the eclipse is over and everything is done, you will see things my way."

Within his cage beneath the water, Blaine tries to think logically, but he feels the eclipse draw near. It will change Kurt, turn him into a king, but it was meant to change Blaine, too. The moon inching close to cover the sun calls to him. Blaine feels his body growing stronger, though he is not strong enough yet to break free of his cage.

But if he can break free, what should be his next move?

If he comes up on land to appeal to the fairies during the eclipse, they will attack, with or without Kurt's command, and Blaine doesn't know if this new strength will be enough to defend himself from their fire. Most likely not, since he has never heard of an undersea creature with the power to withstand direct flame. Not even his father – at least, he thought not.

He knows nothing for certain anymore.

He could try to stop the army of sprites coming for the cove, but why would they listen to him? Blaine is no longer heir to the throne. He is nothing to them anymore. Trent won't be leading the assault. There would be no one for him to appeal to, and no doubt his father has given them instructions to kill him on sight if they encounter him. The only thing he can do is bide his time, keep an eye out for an opportunity to leap into the fray and do whatever he can to stop this battle.

Blaine hunkers down and lets the strength of the moon flourish within him, tugging the bindings on the cage every so often to see if he can wear them down. Otherwise, all he can do is wait.

And Blaine hates to wait.

The sky turns black as the water and Kurt feels his body call out for the sun. From what he remembers, once the moon covers the sun, the earth will be overrun by a dark radiance - a light only visible during the eclipse - which will give the royal heir to the throne their power. It's a form of rebirth – a metamorphosis from common fairy to king or queen.

But if it's going to turn him into the heartless, self-serving beast his mother has become, he doesn't want it – any of it.

Unfortunately, it's too late for him now.

Kurt had looked forward to inheriting a kingdom which had enjoyed centuries of peace. But here he stands, and his first command as king will be to annihilate an entire race – a race he had longed to call friend and bring under his protection. But fate and vanity had declared them eternal enemies, and no power on the planet could stop the rage of war.

Alas, no more words from a wise and cynical sea turtle will be able to save them now.

Kurt turns his gaze to the sun shining above his head as the shadow of the moon starts to blot it out. The world around him grows dim, and the dark light of the eclipse begins to glow. He feels it first in his wings as they start to lengthen. Then in his arms and legs as they tingle and fill with heat. Finally, his eyes burn silver with the full power of the Eternal Flame, fed by his mother as she fills it to the brim with flowers from the meadow – amaryllis for pride, iris for wisdom, callas for beauty, poppies for success, and roses for hope.

Kurt watches his mother and wishes for more roses – many more roses.

He can see his transformation reflect in his lover's eyes beneath the water. Kurt turns away, unable to stand their agony and wonder. He shifts his gaze to the horizon, to the ocean stretching out in all directions, and the rolling hills. Off in the distance, white flecks gather in great numbers, rising higher and higher into the sky. Kurt sees them – the pods of the flowers that the turtle told them about, bursting into the air and floating to the heavens. And as the strength of the flame flows within him, cementing his place on the throne, he feels his soul begin to break.

Hundreds of pods lift into the sky and not a one of them wait to carry him and Blaine along. When the last one disappears and the sun choked with darkness, Kurt looks back into the pool in search of Blaine.

But he sees only his own reflection.

No, he sees the reflection of a doomed king.

The fairy staring back at Kurt is not him, and never will be.

The fairies around Kurt fall to their knees, his many sins and transgressions suddenly forgotten now that he stands before them as their king.

"There!" Elizabeth raises her arms and bows low to her son in the presence of all so that they will know she gives him her blessing to rule. "I present to you all my son, Kurt, King of the Fire Fairies!"

"Long live the king!" the fairies chant as they toss their offerings of flowers at his feet and more offerings into the flame. "Long may he rule!"

Kurt feels a tremor in his spirit, the vibrations of hundreds of feet marching beneath his skin. Because of his new connection to the earth, he perceives what is yet unseen. He inhales deep and looks at the water. Ringlets form, the thinnest of disturbances impacting the water's surface as they start to arrive.

"There will be no peace," Kurt says to himself, opening his wings to rise high into the sky. Behind him, a regiment of fairies dressed in armor and carrying spears topped with flame fall in line, preparing for battle. "Today, the end begins."

Metal helmets poke through the water's surface like the fins of tiny sharks and head for land. Kurt searches the water for Blaine but his water sprite is gone, and Kurt doesn't blame him. Whether at the hands of the fire fairies or the water sprites, he surely would have become the first casualty of war with Kurt - focused on defending his kingdom - powerless to protect him.

Line after line of water sprites appears, crowding the shore, but only one sprite speaks.

"My name is Cassius," he says. "Supreme General of the Undersea Kingdom, under the command of King Malek the Great."

"And what have you to say to me, Supreme General?" Kurt asks, his voice a rumble over the earth and sky. "Why have you come to our shores on the eve of this sacred ceremony?"

"I have come to you," the sprite says in a stiff, commanding voice, but with more respect than Kurt would have expected, "with a declaration of war."

"And why does your king declare war on us?" Kurt asks, stalling as he tries, even now, to find a way out of this mess. If he can stall until the eclipse is over, the sun will force the sprites back into the water.

Not that that will stop the war, but it may delay it a little.

"Your realm has been charged with crimes against the crown," the Supreme General declares. "Specifically in the matter of His Royal Highness, Prince Blaine, exiled son of the king."

"I see. Then I will discuss this matter with King Malek himself," Kurt declares, "since it is because of me that your prince was exiled, and I would like the opportunity to defend my actions." Kurt looks down at the Supreme General, who stares back at him, unmoved. "Is your king with you?"

"He is not," the Supreme General replies, "but I have my orders …"

"Return to your ocean and tell your king I will speak with him on this and only him. I believe it is only fitting for a king to address a king on an issue as serious as declaring war. Do you not?"

"Be that as it may," the Supreme General says, conceited in his amusement at the young king's demands, "I carry the banner of King Malek, therefore I speak for him …"

"But you don't have his authority," Kurt cuts in, doing his best to draw this out a bit longer. "You carry his declaration of war, yes, and are given the authority to launch an attack. However, the burden of negotiation falls on the shoulders of the king and the king alone. And as I am not willing to endanger my kingdom, I demand negotiation, which I believe is my right. So go back to King Malek and tell him to come face me." Kurt waits, staring the general down with all the confidence he can muster to back his words. He anticipates another volley, a (hopefully) long-winded explanation of the Supreme General's position and his authority to represent the throne as granted by the king.

But the Supreme General does no such thing.

He calls out a command and the army advances. Kurt rises higher, spreading out his arms, his hands engulfed in flame.

"How far do you think you and your army will be able to come up onto my shores?" He reaches out an arm and calls for the flame. It leaps at his command, threading over the cove, lighting the grass and smoking wildly, forcing the sprites to retreat to the pool.

Kurt hears his wall of fire sizzle, a massive wave of smoke rising up from the grass as a tremendous line of sprites extinguish the fire at its base. Kurt reaches out to relight the grass, but it is soaked with water, and the flame doesn't catch.

"I think," the Supreme General says, a smug grin twisting his lips as he rises from the pool and marches his troops onto the shore, "that we can come up as far as we please."

Kurt feels his new power – his mother's power - luring him into battle, forcing his hand. He creates a wave of flame rising high into the sky, tall enough and wide enough to push every sprite into oblivion. The sprites see the fire coil like a viper, preparing to strike.

But the front line of sprites, ready to sacrifice their lives, is only a diversion. A regiment of soldiers armed with tridents and nets surround the cove, sneaking up into the grass behind the fairy king, preparing to strike once the whip of fire finds its mark. Their orders are to ambush the king and as many of his army as they can and drag them into the water.

And Kurt, who has never been confronted with the possibility of war in his life, has no idea such an attack is coming his way.

Completely engaged with his snake of flame, the sprites close in around him, waiting for their signal.

The fire lashes out.

The nets fly into the air.

And all at once, a belt of water dissolves the fire and carries the army of sprites back into the ocean, dragging them down into the deep.

Kurt spins around, fluttering high, startled for the moment that he was saved within an inch of losing his life, but he has no idea by whom. The smoke from the extinguished fire whip clears and Blaine is there – a transformed Blaine – an immense, imposing water sprite, as large as Kurt, the likes of which none have seen since the last time the Great Sea King Malek left the confines of his castle.

Before he became the vulgar blackened mass he is today.

The army of sprites rally behind him, preparing to press the advantage of this surprise, but Blaine glowers at them, golden eyes burning like molten rock.

"Enough!" he yells, waving a hand and washing the remaining sprites back into the water before they can release their nets again.

"Blaine?" Kurt hovers closer, looking Blaine up and down, relishing seeing him with his new eyes. "But, how …?"

"I became my father," Blaine says bleakly, "like you became your mother."

"But, you never said anything. Did you know …?"

"No," Blaine answers with a dry chuckle. "I can safely say no one ever warned me about this."

Startled cries rise up as the remaining sprites try to wage war around the two kings, but a potent wall of fire, and another ring of water manage to keep the warriors in their place. Kurt feels the mounting swell of black light fade. He knows the sun will soon return and bring forth the day.

"Blaine, you have to go! The sun will come out soon! Take your army back into the water and leave!"

"Not without you," Blaine says.

"But, I can't!" Kurt looks at his fairies attempting to breach the water and fire wall. "I have to stay here!"

"And wage your Mother's war?" Blaine asks. "Then the only choice for me is to stay with you, no matter what."

"But … you can't … and I … I have to …" Looking into Blaine's eyes, Kurt finds it hard to remember exactly why it is so important that he stay. What was going on around him that was more important than the water sprite in front of him?

"We can end this, my love," Blaine says with his hand outstretched. "Remember?"

"But the flowers!" Kurt sobs. "I saw them! They're gone! They've floated away and left us behind!"

"They don't matter. We'll find a way. We're strong enough to make it there together. On our own. Let's leave this all behind and start our new world, Kurt. What do you say? Will you come with me?"

Kurt looks at Blaine's hand beckoning him, fingers curled inward, inviting him to come along. There is his out. He still has a chance at peace.

Blaine is offering him the greatest gift in the world – a second chance.

And more than anything, Kurt wants to take it.

It's the singing of the sun in the sky that alerts Kurt to the trouble before he sees it.

Kurt could have saved him, could have rescued Blaine from the eclipse if he had only taken his hand, but as soon as a sliver of the sun shows its face, Elizabeth – standing aside, forgotten, hidden by the flame - sends out what is left of her power and strikes Blaine to the ground, sending him reeling into the single ray of daylight.

It strikes him in the eyes, its effect on the sprite instantaneous.

"No!" Kurt screams to bring down the stars in the heavens. "No! Blaine!"

The fairies disperse and the sprites run for cover, ducking into the water to avoid the daylight flooding the cove.

Kurt calls upon his power to pull every cloud above to the cove – every thunderhead, every cumulonimbus. He fills the sky over their heads with an infinity of clouds, but it's not enough to undo what has been done.

The wet earth cruelly holds Kurt's feet as he runs across it, his large, flowing wings slowing him down. Or maybe it's time slowing, since Kurt is sure it will stop if Blaine is actually dead. Kurt looks down at Blaine's limp body, his scorched eyelids, his face relaxed as if in sleep.

Peaceful in death.

"No," Kurt whispers, dropping to his knees. "No, no, no, no. Blaine?" He reaches for the water sprite, his hands gently touching his cold cheek. "Blaine, please … please, wake up."

Around the two lovers, the fairies gather. From the shore, sprites take tentative steps onto land.

"No," Kurt repeats, not knowing what to say. If he can't think of something that will bring him back, words are useless. "He had such a beautiful soul," he says, talking as if a multitude of eyes aren't watching him grieve, a multitude of ears not listening. He leans forward, kisses Blaine's lips one more time. Tears fall from his eyes, wetting Blaine's cheeks like a drizzle of rain, but they do not wake him.

"I did this," Kurt says softly. "I killed him."

"Kurt …" Elizabeth comes out of hiding and hovers over her son. Kurt's eyes snap up to meet hers - piercing blue eyes burning with hate.

"I killed him," he repeats, holding Blaine's body close to his chest, cradling the water sprite's head against his heart. "And you did, Mother!" he screams. His gaze sweeps the congregation around him, those turbulent eyes taking in the faces of fairy and sprite alike. "And you! And you! And you! All of you, with your hate! Your stupid, mindless hate! And for what? Who won!? Nobody! Nobody won!"

Kurt turns his back on his fairies, ignores the sprites creeping forward, attempting to claim the body of their fallen prince. With great reverence befitting a noble king, he lifts Blaine in his arms and walks away from his kingdom, heading with purposeful strides to the water.

Elizabeth follows behind him. "Kurt! What are you doing!?"

"I am returning Blaine to his home."

"But, you can't! If you go into the water, you'll die!"

"Then I die! And this debt of the fire fairies to the water kingdom will be repaid! And perhaps then this stupid war will be considered over!"

"Kurt!" Elizabeth screams after her son, but without her power, she can do nothing to stop him. He does not listen to her cries, and she does not follow him down to the water. He stops for a moment at the very edge, where gentle waves lap at the shore. His light reflects off it, a thousand dots shimmering over the surface, and for once, Kurt sees the beauty in it – not the reflection of the fire's glow, but the way the flame blends with the water. A shallow finger of water reaches out for him and wraps around his ankle, tugging at his leg. Each tug brings him closer, the cold whorling up his leg into his body, spreading icy hands toward his heart.

Kurt no longer fears the water. It rises up in search of its prince, but it will accept him as well, and they will be one.

"We'll be together," Kurt says, brushing a lock of hair from Blaine's face, "just like we planned. Just like we dreamed. You and me and our brand new world."

Kurt takes a step forward, and then another. The waves rise up to greet them, to fold the two children in its arms and take them under.

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt says, letting the final wave cover him and carry him into the dark.

The cove is hushed, the water motionless, the Eternal Flame dancing alone on its branch, burning lower and lower. The sprites, gathered at the water's edge, look on in shock, while the fairies have begun to cry out in mourning.

Neither notice the disturbance farther out, the deep water churning and bubbling from below, coming closer and closer. The pool swirls around and around. In its center, a crown of shimmering gray flesh rises. A face breaks through the surface, and then a hand – open flat, palm facing the sky. Two small figures rest in the center – Blaine and Kurt, still as if sleeping, wrapped in one another's arms.

"Malek," Elizabeth gasps, addressing her other half for the first time since Earth began.

"Elizabeth," he says, eyes focused solely on the bodies in his hand.

"We did this," Elizabeth says, looking at the body of her son.

"Yes," Malek says, gazing down at his own, "we did."

"He would have ruled in my stead," Elizabeth says.

"And he in mine," Malek says.

Elizabeth looks at the fairy and sprite lying side-by-side, fingers laced even in the gloom of death.

"So why don't we give them what is theirs?" she says, brushing the hair from her son's eyes with her fingertips, and then from Blaine's.

"How do you mean?" Malek asks, watching Elizabeth tend to his son.

"We'll exchange our fate for theirs. We will leave this world in their place. Then they can improve what's been made here, and we will create a new one." Elizabeth smiles. "We will watch them from above."

"They will rectify our mistakes …" Malek adds, taking the fairy queen's hand.

"… rebuild what we've torn apart …"

"… so that things may begin again, the way they were meant to be."

Malek raises Elizabeth's hand to his mouth - a mouth on a face that begins to look less like a putrid, indefinable mass and more like a sprite.

A handsome sprite with raven curls and glowing amber eyes.

Elizabeth smiles. "It's nice to see you again."

Malek returns her smile. "Likewise, my love."

Elizabeth turns to her children – the fairies taking to the air. She extends her hand and brushes through them with one final caress as she reaches past and takes hold of the Eternal Flame. She holds the fire in the palm of her hand and places it beneath the water. It sputters, dances. In a single burst, it shoots out in all directions, sinking to the ocean floor but does not extinguish.

"Your children will always be welcome here … in my son's kingdom," Elizabeth says, her body becoming translucent, shimmering like sparkles on the water.

"And your children will always be welcome beneath the water … in my son's kingdom," Malek says, placing the two bodies on the grass as his own form begins to fade.

Around the bodies of the two fallen princes a cone of light forms – one blue, twisting and spiraling in one direction, while another, soft and pink, spirals in another. They spin and twirl, faster and faster, fitting one another until they become one – a beacon that shoots to the heavens and lights the sky, filling the universe with its radiance. There's a moment when the light becomes so bright that everyone witnessing it must turn their eyes away or risk being blinded by it. It bounces off the ocean, reflects the stars, and makes the land around them hum with life. Soon the light disappears and the world becomes dark and quiet once more, except for one point of light that glows in the center of Kurt and Blaine's joined hands.

The silence that covers the cove is broken when two souls take their first breaths together as one.

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

His Father’s Son

Young!Sirius Black x Female Reader & NotSoYoung!Sirius Black x Female Reader

Request: Idk if requests are open or anything but can you write Sirius has a Slytherin son that's the twins age and hates him because Sirius likes Harry better

A/N: This awesome anon has sent me this mind-blowing request about Sirius. When I read it this morning I went Holy cow, how do I write THAT?! And honestly I even considered dropping it because I had no idea what to do with it. But then I went on a run, and it just came to me. I typed away, and this is what came out. Dear Anon, I’m not quite sure if this is what you had in mind. I hope the story doesn’t disappoint you. 

Synopsis: After the tragic events in the Hall of Prophecy in the Ministry of Magic, Alastair Black, Sirius’ only son, comes banging on the doors of his father’s ancestral home. What awaits for him there is his father’s friend Y/N, and her version of the past events might just make him question everything he thought he knew. 

WARNINGS: mentions of death, suffering, ANGSTY AF (I don’t know what happened to me there).

I hope you enjoy!  

The Beautiful & Damned will be back with a new chapter tomorrow! 

The night is solemnly silent, save for the roaring of the rain, assaulting the roof of the old, moaning house. Fists and jaw clenched tight, his eyes are fixed on the only glowing window, yellowed by time. Wet strands of hair cling to his burning front, and cold water is a blessing, hitting every inch of his skin, hammering the pain deeper and deeper inside of him, so no one sees. 

He’s weightless as his feet take him to the heavy doors - the doors he thought he’d never enter again. Inhaling frantically, he crashes both of his fists against the polished wood, the loud bang awakening something he long since locked in his rattling cage of a chest. 

The moment the sound reaches his ears, there’s is no stopping the rage that’s finally set free, painting his vision red. He hits the door again and again, bashing his fists in, until his hands go black and blue. The rambling in his head is getting louder, the shaking in his bones grows stronger, and the only way to stop it is to finally do it - blow the bloody doors of that piece of shit of a house, where he has never felt at home. 

He barely realises it when the doors slam open in his face, bright yellow light blinding him. Falling on his knees, his maimed hands covering his swollen eyes, he lets someone soft and warm wrap their hands around him. They don’t speak, and he doesn’t either, contenting himself with relishing the comfort of their touch. 

When his sensitive eyes adjust to light, he sees the empty corridors ahead, bathing in the welcoming glow. Dust floats in the musk-scented air, its playful light-stained thin whirls inviting him in. 

Hot tears welling up in his eyes, he tangles his sore fingers in Y/N hair, clinging to her fragile frame. She smells like Neroli and always, and her smell, coupled with the sight before his eyes, is enough for him to finally let go. 

“He’s dead!” the cry tears his insides apart, popping his veins open. “He’s dead! Sirius is dead!…”

She rocks him softly in place, littering his raven-black hair with chaotic kisses, her own cheeks glistening in the light of a full yellow moon. 

---

“Would you like something to drink, Alastair?” 

He blinks rapidly, his eyes sore and dry, his stare completely vacant. Y/N’s heart clenches, and she forces herself to go on:

“I still have a bit of coffee left… It’s either that or firewhiskey”, she drops into the chair across from the young Black, slamming a half-empty bottle of amber liquid against the table’s surface. “Pick your poison.”

Rubbing his nose with the back of a hand, Alastair quickly motions towards the bottle, and folds his hands in front of him. In booming silence, Y/N serves him a splash of the burning liquid and pushes the glass in his direction. His bleeding long fingers wrap around it as he downs the alcohol in one go, throwing his head back. 

Y/N watches him closely, as spider-web cracks on her porcelain heart become more and more prominent. In the dim lights of the Grimmauld place, Alastair looks so much like Sirius: he’s all bruises and blood, his beautiful stormy eyes dark grey, almost black, his jaw tense and his cheekbones sharp enough to cut her skin and bleed her dry. She crashes an unwanted whimper in its wake, as Sirius’ son raises his foggy orbs to look at her with a desperation of a man catching at straws, drowning in a bottomless river. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, his pale lips barely moving. “I didn’t want to wake you…”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Y/N interrupts, gazing at him, her eyelids each weighting a ton. “I was waiting for you. I was hoping you’d show”. 

Alastair nods, avoiding her gentle eyes. Fetching the bottle, he serves himself another drink, and noticing an empty glass a little further away, splashes a generous amount of alcohol inside, wetting its walls. Leaning over the table, he puts the glass in front of Y/N, still refusing to look her in the eyes. 

“It’s not like everything changed or anything”, he lets out, his fingers fidgeting with the rim of his glass. “He was long dead to me before that bitch actually Avada Kedavra’d him”, his nonchalance is a thought out act. Whiskey wets his lips. “He never loved me. He never loved anybody but his precious Harry fucking Potter.”

“Alastair…” Y/N gives her dissent a muffled try. “You know it isn’t…”

“Oh it is the truth, Y/N, so don’t waste your breath”, he chuckles bitterly, missing the rage already. Bitterness is worse than anger, because it lasts. “From the moment I was born, he didn’t want me. He blamed me for my mother’s death. All I wanted,” his voice trembled, but Alastair quickly got a hold of himself. “All I wanted was a fucking chance. I wasn’t given any. He abandoned me. He preferred to surrender and go to Azkaban for the crime he didn’t commit, than stay and fight and be a fucking father. And when he came out, he wanted nothing to do with me. Doesn’t come as a surprise, really - I am not a Potter, after all!” thunder flashed in his tempestuous irises. “I made peace with my orphanage, a very long time ago. I’m glad the Weasleys were able to see past my green and silver uniform…”

The lights in the room went out with a loud shattering sound, the glass from overhead lamps clattering on the floor. Alastair froze mid-sentence, Y/N rugged breathing echoing in the dark space. 

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, Alastair”, Y/N’s struggles through the sentence, her last effort spent on controlling her temper. “I’m going to fetch a candle and we are going to talk”, young Black hears the shuffling as she gets on her feet. “Well, I am going to talk, and you are going to listen, because I’ve got plenty to say”, having said that, she makes her way to the kitchen counter. 

Minutes later, a bright yellow-and-orange flame flickers in the dark, casting long shadows on the walls of the room. Darkness clusters around the two of them, and the whole world is put on hold. 

---

“…What you have to understand, Alastair, is that those were dark, hopeless times. With those who made it through alive, we prayed that no witch or wizard had to go what we went through. 

The war makes you think differently; the constant state of fear and knowing that each minute could be your last changes the way you look at things; it turns your entire world upside down. 

At first, just like you’re doing right now in regards to your father’s behaviour, we were looking for reasons. It took us thousands of lost lives to finally learn the truth - not everything had a reason - a rational commonsensical cause that comes from the faculty of the mind to distinguish good from evil and right from wrong. Merlin knows, Death Eaters had no reason to act like monsters. Merlin knows, Death Eaters had no reason to line up into a battalion, to aim their wands at other wizards’ chests and to yell an unforgivable curse at the top of their lungs. What they did have was command, and enough fear to obey.

Fear was living among us, following us everywhere we went. Fear turned some of the best of us into cold-blooded murderers, and it was hard to always focus on that fateful yet blurry line that separated us from Voldemort’s sidekicks. What I want you to understand is that fear pushed us towards choices we would have never otherwise made. Fear was what pushed James and Lily into the Godric’s Hollow, far away from their friends and family - I keep asking myself what would have happened if they’d stayed. Would we have stood a chance against Voldemort, as a strong, united front, together? Would they have still been alive?… Maybe, fear was what truly killed them both. 

Sirius always wanted to do what was right. But at some point, fear changed your father’s perception of right, and we - I - was in no position to argue, because I didn’t know what right was anymore, either. 

We were mourning your mother, Marlene, each in our own way. Voldemort wiped out her entire family, and if he didn’t touch you, it surely wasn’t out of the fucking goodness of his heart. Riddle did not know you existed, Alastair. Only a handful of wizards knew Sirius and Marlene were so in love, they wanted a kid, a ray of light amidst all that darkness. I knew. So did Molly. James and Lily knew too, of course. Remus and Peter - thank Merlin, Peter did not know!… Thinking about it now, I still can’t believe we didn’t see it coming, we didn’t kill him while we still had a chance, while the damage still hadn’t been done!…

You were four years old when wizards from the Ministry came for your father. I remember it clear as day, but what price wouldn’t I pay to forget. Sirius was tired of running. His thoughts were eating him alive. What kind of start in life was he offering you, his son? Days prior to his arrest, he told me, “You know what to do, Y/N”, and he squeezed my hand, ever so lightly… 

A notorious runaway murderer, he couldn’t send you to Hogwarts without surrendering. Upon learning that you, Alastair Black, were Sirius’ son, the Ministry would have kept you hostage to lure him out. He refused to drag you down with him, no matter how much it’d cost him… 

I left our hiding place with you under my robes hours before the Ministry came. I saw them burning the place to the ground, and every last memory of your mother with it… 

I was a mess by the time I arrived at the Burrow. Molly and Arthur kept asking me what happened, what was wrong… I couldn’t form words. I choked on them. You have to understand, Alastair, I watched as my best friend, the man I respected and loved more than anything in the world, was taken to Azkaban for the crime he didn’t commit. I finally had him, and I lost him, because I made a mistake. I should have never agreed to put my trust in Peter, I had a gut feeling about him, even back when we were at school!… I was disappointed in the entire world and I blamed myself. 

Molly and Arthur took you in as if you were one of their own. I watched you grow, and I was proud of the young man you were becoming, taking so much after your father! Watching you become  your father’s son was killing me slowly, while I still mourned the person who wasn’t even dead. A brilliant young wizard, be it a little on the troublemaker side, you, Fred and George might as well have been the new Marauders, carrying on your father’s legacy unbeknownst to you. 

Each time I came over to Molly’s over the holidays, I cried my eyes out upon returning here, in this very kitchen - Merlin, you were just like him!… At war with his true family. Just like Sirius before you, you hated everything that the Black family represented, and you weren’t shy to express your feelings - a very rebel-like move for a Slytherin, some said. Dressed in greens and silvers, you were the spitting image of the man I loved in every little line littering your face, too early for your age.

Why didn’t you take me in, then, you probably wonder. With me loving your father so much and all, I should have been the first in line to take care of you. The truth was, I couldn’t. The day your father had been taken, I swore to myself I’d find Peter Pettigrew, and I’ll make him confess,  before he takes Sirius’ place in Azkaban. I spent years on the move, blinded by my desire for revenge, while Peter….He was always right there, right in front of our noses. 

Every time I saw you at the Burrow, your smile never reached your eyes. So many questions were swimming in their stormy oceans, unanswered. You wanted the truth, and I was the only person who was able to give it to you. Yet I couldn’t. As much as it killed me, you were better off hating you father. Should I have told you the truth - just how much he loved you, and that he was innocent - it could backfire in the most unpredictable way. So I remained silent, and there were desperate times when I thought I’d carry Padfoot’s secrets to my grave. 

When Sirius got out, and the truth broke free with him, it took a while for it to settle in, even among the members of the Order. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like, learning that your father was innocent this entire time, that you were never the son of a murderer, but of a man wrongfully committed to Azkaban. When the news finally reached me, I dropped everything and set out for the Burrow: this time, I was going to give you all the answers you needed to hear, before you were to reunite with your father. 

I apparated at Grimmauld’s place at quarter past midnight, I remember very well. Not a single window was alight. I entered the house I almost learned to hate, for everything reminded me of you father here, cutting me open. I made my way to the kitchen. Something didn’t feel right, the atmosphere had shifted, it was almost like the house could breathe again. 

The moment I saw your father sitting in the very chair you are occupying, my legs failed me. I broke down on my knees, sobbing uncontrollably, like a little girl. Your father put your arms around me, placing feverish kisses all over my face, telling me that it was going to be okay now. He was back. 

We talked the night away, until the dawn coloured the sky light pink. He wanted to know everything about you - what kind of person you’d become, what you loved, what made you tick, what subjects at Hogwarts were your favourite… I watched a mischievous smile bloom on his chapped lips as I mentioned that your animagus form was a husky. He laughed out loud when I told him you were exceptionally good at blowing up school toilets. He cleared his throat, hiding his tears of joy when he learned you were proud to be a Slytherin, because it “came to show that not all Slytherins were Death Eaters in the making”. I swear I saw Padfoot come back to life that night, familiar fire melting the deadly coldness in his eyes away. 

We arranged for the old members of the Order to come to the Grimmauld place in the evening; I asked Molly to tell you to come too. Sirius was anxious the entire day. He couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t eat, threatening to go see you, claiming he had waited enough. Coming out there, even as a dog, was still dangerous, so I talked him down, time and again. 

I will never forget the tears rolling down his cheeks when he saw you, after all these years… When he held you in his arms… My heart stopped at the sight. Having seen his eyes, having felt his chest against your own that night, how dare you say your father never loved you, Alastair?… You were the only thing that mattered to him, the only thing that kept him going… Even if he was forced not to show it. 

That’s right, you heard me. The moment the members of the Order sat down at this table that night, we knew: many more meetings would follow. I’d been places and I’d seen things - there was no doubt left in my mind that Voldemort was planning his big return, his servants and all these creatures who worshipped him restless. We all knew the danger was coming, but we didn’t know from where exactly.  

Dumbledore and Sirius stepped into the hall after the meeting; they talked long enough for me to start to worry. When Sirius returned to the kitchen, we were still sitting at this table, do you remember?… A bright smile lit up your features as you asked your father if you could stay with him for the remainder of the summer. His answer was short and cold, and shook me to the core. He didn’t even say goodbye when you left for Burrow with Molly and Arthur. 

I was furious. I waited till we were left alone in the house to confront him. I came off a little stronger than I intended, reminding him that you were his son, for Merlin’s sake, and calling him heartless. Tears glimmered in his bloodshot eyes as he told me he was doing what was best for you. It was too dangerous for you to be close to him - he was still considered a murderer by the Ministry, only now the other side of the looming war wanted him dead as well. Being his son alone had already put you in danger; being a devoted, loving son would have surely killed you. I tried to talk some sense into him - he was making the same damn mistake we let James and Lily commit back in the day - he was yielding to fear. 

Please understand, Alastair, this wasn’t my decision to make. I wasn’t your mother. I was nobody really, and that’s exactly what your father told me, point blank. I stared at him in disbelief for what felt like an eternity, before I disappeared into thin air, apparating back to my place in London.  

I watched you grow bitter, while the skies above our heads grew darker with every single day. I tried to talk to you, to justify your father’s behaviour in your eyes, but you wouldn’t listen. I forced Remus, the only close friend I had left, to try and open your father’s eyes, Merlin knows, he’d been good at it when we were back at Hogwarts. Sirius wouldn’t budge, either. Like father, like son. 

I know you were jealous of Harry, I could see it just by looking at your face, don’t try to deny it. All because Sirius was treating him like a friend. What he saw, looking at Harry, was James. An equal, capable of fighting - not the most valuable thing in the world that needed to be protected at all costs. You were the quintessential reason he survived Azkaban. You were the only force that made him go out and fight, every single day. You weren’t just you in his eyes - you were the promise of the happy future he had to deserve by avenging your poor mother. I think he punished himself in a way all this time, he blamed himself for not having been there for the mother of his child when she needed him most. He blamed himself for leaving you. Under the weight of all this guilt and fear, your father got lost… And I wasn’t there to fight for him, to show him the way.

He came to see me… He came to see me a week ago, right before that night at the Ministry”. 

Y/N no longer looks at Alastair - her gaze is lost in the darkness of the hall, as tears roll down her cheeks. 

“…And I didn’t let him in.”

With his vision blurry, Alastair bites on his lips, his chest heaving. He is drowning in all-consuming pain, and no one’s here to save him. This must be what his father felt like. In agony and all alone. 

“There’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t think about him,” Y/N rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I know I could have saved him,” her voice cracks, and her entire body shudders. “Had I loved him a little less, just a tad less to forgive him for the hurt he had caused me, I could have saved him. I could have gone to the Ministry that night instead of him, I could have convinced him to stay here, with you, for he had so much to lose…” Alastair’s eyes meet hers - not a flicker of the flame is reflecting in their irises. He gets the feeling his are the same, void and dark, like his name. 

“I could have saved him,” he says, covering Y/N’s hand with his, squeezing it ever so lightly. “Had I loved him at his worse, when he needed me most”. 

Silence is a scary sound as it closes in on them - on a heartbroken woman with tear-stained cheeks who loved too much, and on the orphan with blood-shot, thunderous grey eyes who did not love enough. 

[crownedcroweprince]

A1, B1, C1, D1, E1, F1, G1, H1, I1, J1, K1, L1 for Una'to because I'm evil and want to ask all the questions c:

It got long so I put it under the cut.

A1) What of the Meyers-Briggs personality types they most fit into? INFP, ENFT, et cetera… : 

I just did the test for him and he got ENTP which is so far from my INFP/INFJ/ENFP that’s it’s kind of surprising. It makes sense he’s the debater. Look at him. He’s mostly going to try and figure out the best way to get what he wants and what he wants out of others. He also just really likes to poke at people to get reactions from them and figure them out. So it fits.

B1)  Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?:

Not particularly. He’ll give basic respect, but he doesn’t expect it back particularly. It just serves him better to give it, but if someone is too awful in respecting him they can expect some amount of retaliation. He doesn’t need it to give it really, he just... doesn’t care.

C1) Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?:

He doesn’t have much of one. He toes the line between Chaotic Neutral and Neutral Evil for a reason. Most of his actions are based on what will entertain him, what will give him what he wants the most, or what may save his skin in the long run. He mostly decides to stick with things out of self interest more than morals.

D1) How religious is your OC? What do they practice, if anything? If they don’t associate with any religion, what do they think of religion in general?:

He’s largely agnostic. After all the twelve weren’t there for him and his siblings. Though he does keep to some of the beliefs he was raised with regarding Menphina and will once in a while do the rituals himself as a comfort, mostly because he enjoys them and has a small hope that they make his condition slow. More than anything he practices witch craft learned from his time back home with ties to Menphina.  So gathering and crafting are religious in a sense.

E1) Would you say that your OC is intelligent? In what ways? Would your OC agree?:

I would say that philosophically and in a common sense way he’s intelligent. But he also goes chaotic stupid and self destructive when he gets too bored. Most of his fun is derived from having a quick wit and using it to play word games with others.

F1)  What sort of home do they live in now, if at all? How did they end up there?:

He lives in an apartment in the Goblet with his partner, though he still tends to stay in a lot of the Inn’s of Ul’dah out of fear of people trying to follow him home, due to his own paranoia of what he’s suffering and some run in’s he’s had before with unsavory types. Fueled all the more from said partner learning he lives in an apartment by breaking in through the window, and his friends with benefits doing something very similar. He mostly ended up there as a way to stay close to the South Shroud without actually living in the area. It’s proximity to Ul’dah also serves his divination business well, and should he need to perform old circus acts as a street performer, Ul’dah is the best place to do it. 

G1)  Is your OC close to their family?:

TW for child murder mention and child abuse mention. Generally? NO. Not at all. He ran away when he was ten as his mother tried to kill him out of her grief from losing his sisters to the “disease” they suffered from a year prior. His clan didn’t help when he was suffering with his mother either, so he’s really not fond of most other Bajhiri that could know or could have helped him. He is still in contact with his brother, his half-sister who is more child hood friend than sibling, and has recently started to interact with one of his distant relatives. He’s only really close with his brother however, and tends to push his half-sister away when ever she tries to establish sibling bonds.

H1)  What is your OC’s orientation, romantic and/or sexual? Has it ever been a source of stress for them? Have they always been pretty sure of their orientation?:

Una’to is polyamorous, pansexual, and pan romantic. It really hasn’t been a stressor for him, and didn’t require much soul searching on his part. It just is what it is to him. He was figured this stuff out as some kid being raised by and working for the circus. They didn’t particularly care as long as he was good at his job and listening to all his mentors.

I1)  What are their favorite kinds of flavors– Sweet, salty, sour, spicy, creamy, et cetera?:

Rich foods and foods that are kind of heavy. He’s had a lot of points in his life where food was scarce so to him the foods that are the best are those that make you feel full, even if it is a small portion. Otherwise he does enjoy spicy and creamy foods. The latter of which tend to be rich.

J1)  Where does your OC stand most politically? What would they align with most?:

Mostly, he doesn’t want to engage with politics. He doesn’t trust the systems in place for most of Eorzea as they struggle to help their own people more often than not. Though he is not a fan of Garleans and what they’ve done to the area’s he calls home. Were we to put him on a compass I would generally say he’s very left leaning. While not morally inclined, he’s not fond of people suffering since it breeds violence and problems he’d rather have a better chance of avoiding.

K1)  Does your OC have to keep their paranormal aspect (PA) a secret from general society? If so, how? I.e., they can’t discuss their abilities, they have to hide a tail, they have an alter-ego, et cetera. What would happen if society found out about it?:

He feels that he has to due to his half-sister Vizha putting it in his head that if he’s figured out he could get in trouble within the confines of Ul’dah or even be killed or quarantined in other city-states. Which is hard when he needs to poke at others to try and figure out a way to deal with it. He isn’t that well versed in voidsent or adventuring after all, so he needs to reach out for help. People are scared of voidsent after all, and he’s not too sure how many steps away he is from being considered one, even if he hasn’t fallen completely yet. Having others know can also just end up being a nuisance for him, as people, even strangers, are apt to worry which can make some of his methods of getting information in my dangerous places harder to do.

L1)  How have your characters changed since you created them?:

He’s made to change as he interacts with others and with which ever end it being approached. For example since it’s moving towards a bad end for this arc he’s getting more jaded, less trusting, and being more closed off to others. Giving warnings to stay away from him or they may get hurt should he fall. He’s more callous and less caring towards violence done towards him and others. The last one is only slightly, but it’s something that will germinate should this road be followed further. Originally he was just an ass who liked to flirt and torment people for his own amusement who was hiding their past and trauma. Now he’s desperately reaching out for help as fear threatens to devour him. A lot of pieces of him are the same though, such as not letting on his more negative emotions outwardly since he has weird control issues about his emotions, body, and the situations he ends up in.

[BIG OL’ HONKIN’ OC QUESTION LIST]

That took a little while, but I hope it’s a fun read into one very cursed catte. Thank you for the ask @gildedandgolden!

[sterek-bingo]

New year, new themes, we hope you lovely senpais out there will notice us!

That's right folks, the official Sterek Bingo 2019 themes are here!! A little delayed, as this year, we decided to release the descriptions and themes at the same time, so without further ado, click "Readmore" for our list of themes- we hope to see you in May!

The Raven- Quoth the raven, nevermore! According to Teen Wolf, there are three kinds of tricksters, a fox, a coyote, and a raven, in the series the raven bit fell a little short, but now with this theme you have the chance to fix that- if you want to! Otherwise, using a normal raven is just fine, perhaps a witch's familiar or even taking inspiration from the famous poem, anything you want, as long as it involves a raven of some kind, is accepted! You could even take a note from Teen Titans and use The Raven as a superhero name, sounds a little like Stiles if you ask me

Masquerade- Historically, masquerades have always been a great device used in literature, plays, film, and just about any other art form you can think of, a great way to move stories along or develop them from the ground up, with beautifull costumes and elaborate masks, now is your time to play with the creativity that the beauty and mystery of a masquerade will bring

Opening a door- Often times when people call out to spirits- through oujia boards, EMFs, and even ghost hunting- it's said that they're opening a door to the other side, letting evil in.... your job with this theme is to decide what door opens, what opens it, and what crosses over- or lies within- once it's ajar, it could be paranoia that says opening a door always invites evil spirits.... or it could just be the truth in plain sight

Astrology- According to the official Teen Wolf calander released with season 3A, Stiles is an Aries, and Derek is a Capricorn- the ram and the seagoat, what a cute combination! ... Ofcourse, other sources say that Stiles may be a Gemini and Derek might be a Scorpio, in the end though, you don't even have to use official sources, what matters is that astrology comes to play into your peice in some form, it could be real, or fake, or ambigous- it might not even apply in terms of birth dates at all, as long as astrology plays a role, this is the theme for you!

Revenge- Perhaps it's a dish best served cold, or perhaps the best kind is living well, however you take revenge, it's appropriate for this theme, use the theme however you wish- Stiles or Derek getting revenge for eachother, or for a loved one, or perhaps someone getting revenge on them, maybe revenge doesn't actually even take place, but is persuaded against, all that matters is that the subject of revenge pops up somewhere in your peice

Flower Language- Red roses mean true love, blue violets mean love between women, and those are just two of the most promising, despite it's name, flower language doesn't stop at just flowers, all plants have some sort of symbolism- grass represents homosexuality, Witch Hazel means magic, and there are thousands more where those come from! You can feature any plant, any meaning, as long as flower language is featured in some way, you're coming up roses for this theme

Music- Music is the language of love... and heart-break... and just about every other emotion, music can communicate what's often too hard to say in conversation or to express to people directly, music can make us feel, it can inspire us, and that's what you need to do for this theme- get inspired by music, or feature it smewhere in your peice, unlike other themes, music doesn't have to be directly featured, it can serve merely as inspiration if that's preferred

Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things- A popular tag on AO3, and an even more popular sentiment amongst Teen Wolf fans, Derek Hale has been long deserving of some nice things in his life, a break, a vacation, even a nap, your job for this theme is to give him some of those much desired good things, or atleast one of them, make up for all of the wrongs Teen Wolf did by giving this sweet boy something nice!

Foxes- Ever since the nogitsune, fox!Stiles has been a staple of the fandom, and now you have the choice to join the trend... or throw a curveball and do something else! Fox!Stiles, fox!Derek, or perhaps somebody else, hell it doesn't even have to be a werefox or fox-shifter at all, it can be a normal fix or even a toy fox- any fox will do, as long as it's featured in your peice

Vampires- From Buffy to True Blood, The Vampire Diaries to Twilight, vampire-centric media has often been apt to feature werewolves, but the opposite isn't necessarily true, one promise Jeff Davis came through on was that vampires would never exist in Teen Wolf, but now it's your chance to change that! Canonverse, AU, crossover, it doesn't matter, choose your opportunity to bring vampires to the world of Sterek

Disney- When you wish upon a star.... the dream of Sterek may come true, depending on who you ask, Disney could represent a great number of things, childhood innocence, dreams coming true, cooporate monopoly and the sustaining of puritanism... hopefully that last part won't play into your peice too much, be it a crossover with an existing Disney property, Disney-fying your art or writing style, or simply using Disneyland, Disney Studios, or some other real-world example of Disney as a part of your work, this theme offers as many different choices as there are stars in the sky

Chocolate- Mmmmm ... chocolate!! Milk chocolate, dark chocolate, white chocolate, hot chocolate, chocolate ice cream, chocolate sauce, chocolate cake, and just plain ol' chocolate candy, it's hard to come across a sweet treat that doesn't have an association with chocolate of some kind, all you have to do is choose your favorite flavor and design a peice around that, what a treat this theme is!

Murder Husbands- Though the phrase was popularized when Freddie Lounds proposed it in Hannibal, the theme of "Murder Husbands"- a couple, be it romantic or platonic, who kill together- has been around since atleast the 40s, with Alfred Hitchcock's "The Rope", and has even existed in real life, the cat-and-mouse aspect also can't be ignored, from Hannibal it's self to the more recent Killing Eve, there's definitely something to be said for the thrill of the chase, described by Rachel Roth of "Fansided" as "a modern day Hades searching for his Persephone; an innocent's descent into Hellfire", there are plenty of ways to go for a killer theme like this- partners in crime, vampire boyfreinds, a cop-and-killer chase, the only thing that can be truly certain is that this theme is recomended for those who like their Sterek with a darker twist

Games- From the intellectually stirring challenge of chess, to the athletic trial of lacrosse, to even the magical feilds of Quidditch or the strategy-straining Duel Monsters, games can be anything from a fun pass-time to a freindly competition, or, as seen with examples such as the Triwizard Tournament, Shadow Games, and even game-based horrors like SAW and Escape Room, trials of life and death, even these themes are a game when you think about it, all you have to do now is decide how to play this one

Dragons- Here be dragons! One of the world's longest standing magical creatures, dragons can be found all over the globe, and in every form of media too, from the dangers of Harry Potter and The Hobbit, to the excitement of How To Train Your Dragon and Avatar: The Last Airbender, it's hard to find fantasy media that doesn't atleast mention dragons... and yet, there's Teen Wolf, wich sadly, only ever came as close as kanimas, but now is your chance to fix that! Take to the skies and use any kind of dragon you like to make the world of Teen Wolf better, brighter, and more fire-breathing than ever!

The Lake- Depending on your personal veiws, lakes can represent all sorts of things, from a fun family vacation, to a romantic summer date, to a spooky atmosphere with something lurking just beneath the surface... your peice can be any tone or atmosphere that you like, as long as a lake is featured in some way, perhaps Sties is a merman living in the local lake, or the pack takes a vacation to Lydia's lakehouse, or maybe whatever is living in the lake in Beacon Hills finally makes it's self known, however you want to spin it, time to dive in with this aquatic theme!

Puppy Pile- Aww, puppy piles! What's cuter than a puppy? An entire pile of them, and what's cuter than a werewolf? Well, you get the picture, the fun thing about this theme is that you can use humans, werewolves, normal wolves, or even actual puppies! The choices for who piles up for a nap- or a night of sleep- in this theme is all up to you!

Triskelion- The sun, the moon, the truth; Alpha, beta, omega; past, present, future.... triskelions can represent alot of things, and that's just what they signify on Teen Wolf, in real life, there are even more things for triskelions to symbolize, this theme can be used in just about any way- Derek's tattoo, the mantra-disc he tried to use as a teenager, a rune, or even just what the triskelion means (IE: a peice about the past, the present, and the future) however you twist and turn it, all that matters is that a triskelion is somehow featured in your peice

Faeries- One thing I really wish had been better explained in Teen Wolf is the fact that banshees are technically a type of faery, meaning that faeries are canonically part of Teen Wolf- and everything they bring with them as well, from faery!Stiles, to "Faeries made them do it", fae folk are a common theme to be brought up in fanfiction, as well as in folklore, throughout history fae have been presented as everything from good to evil to morally ambigous, weather they have wings or magic or telepathic abilities, living in their own realms, communicating with nature, or controlling their size, there are a million different ways you can go with the faery theme, now's your time to take off and fly with it

Strangers On A Train- In 1951, Alfred Hitchcock's "Strangers On A Train" was released, featuring two strangers making a murder pact after meeting on a train, wile this theme is certainly one that you can use- it's been used ever since in both media and in real life, after all- it doesn't *have* to be, the theme can be much more fun and fluffy, or mysterious and strange, or dark and twisted, the idea of meeting someone on a train who ultimately changes your life hasn't dimmed with time, even if trains are significantly less common of a transporation system these days, they still make a splash in media, from the iconic Hogwarts Express to the setting of 2017's "The Commuter", it's time to get on board with this peculiar theme

Other Realms- One of the things that was touched on, yet not nearly explained enough, was that there are in fact other realms in Teen Wolf, The Wild Hunt made that more than clear, but what extent exactly does this go to? Faery realms? Atlantis? Afterlives? It's up to you to decide, you can use as few or as many different realms as you'd wish, and are as always, free to make it an AU, just as long as you feature atleast one alterante realm in some way in your peice

Cosplay- One of the greatest forms of expression in fandom, cosplay has turned "Dressing up" into an Olympic sport, be it a simple store-bought costume, a pain-stakingly hand-made costume, one that's affordable or one that takes your life savings, cosplay isn't about looking theatrical or professional, it's about having fun! Be it for Halloween, a convention, or a party, let the fan flag fly with this theme

Cabin In The Woods- Peacefull life of flannel and fireplaces.... or horror movie setting of death? The Cabin In The Woods, much like The Lake, has two very conflicting atmospheres to them, the peacefull, content relaxation of being away from society, in the woods or the mountains, surrounded by nature and without the stresses of every day life.... and being in the middle of nowhere, without the use of electronics, where anything can happen and no one can hear you scream... it's your choice for wich version of the theme you'll use- or perhaps you could even use a different one, alot can happen when your theme is only the setting after all!

Mechanic- Finding a good mechanic is every non-car-person's deepest desire, and that's probably even more so for Stiles- who drives what I'm generously calling a "fixer upper", and Derek, who's Camarao is probably worth more than my life value, now's the time to give them the car help they need- or perhaps allow one of them to be a mechanic himself! Fixing cars is no easy task, but hopefully finding a way to plug a mechanic into your theme won't be nearly so daunting

Unicorns- This theme is a very special unicorn.... literally! Much to my surprise and delight, unicorns are a pretty common theme in this fandom, and now is your time to make it your own, from unicorns who follow virgin "maidens", to those who are attached to folks with good hearts, or maybe they aren't necessarily attached to anyone at all, perhaps they're just minding their own business when Stiles or Derek stumbles upon them, maybe one of them is a unicorn herder, or possibly something else that I've yet to describe, the magic of this theme is that you can get as creative as you want

Urban Legends- From Diet Coke and Pop Rocks to organ harvesting in a bath of ice, urban legends have a tendency to be odd, macabre, and ... questionably realistic, after all, it wouldn't be an urban legend if there didn't atleast sound like a crumb of truth was contained inside, your job is to use any existing urban legend- or to create your own!- in your Bingo peice, it can be a rumor gone wrong, a legend disproved, or perhaps even that grain of truth inside the urban legends, whatever you decide, I'm sure it'll be legendary

Past lives- Reincarnation is definitely one of the most fascinating themes I can think of, it has the potential for everything from mystery to angst to even fluff, so when one starts exploring Stiles and Derek's past lives, you know you'll be in for a treat, or, perhaps, Stiles and Derek *are* the past lives being explored, it's perfectly possible that your peice focus on future incarnations of their souls as well, as long as we can tell that it's these two idiots in love, any incarnation is applicable

Pack parents- Pack Mom, Pack Dad, whatever you call them, it's clear that Stiles and Derek are the "parents" of the pack, even without either being the Alpha (though if you want to Alpha-nize either of them that's definitely fine by us) Stiles and Derek have, since the beginning, treated their packmates like children, and with good reason, now is your time to capitalize on that! Be they literal parents or just using that as a figure of speech- maybe even a sarcastic one- it's time to have a sit down with the pack parents and feel young again

Alpha & Emissary Gathering- Werewolf symposiums, supernatural conventions, Alpha & Emissary gatherings... they're all essentially the same thing, an opportunity to show off the fun of a convention with the stress of a supernatural hot spot, be it Alpha!Derek and Emissary!Stiles, Alpha!Stiles and Emissary!Derek, or some other combination to surprise us with, it's time to gather your ideas and ready one of them for this fun theme

Wild Card- This is the obligatory bingo square in the very middle where you can do absolutely anything you want! That’s right. There’s no restriction, no guideline, no THEME! It’s your freebie to do anything you may have been wanting to do, but haven’t really had the time or inspiration to do until now- here’s your chance. Now go forth and create Sterek!

[dramaplustautology]

Artemy and Nikolai Dragomirov

Some really messy notes from chats

The Dragomirov brothers, Artemy the older and Nikolai the younger, come from an intensely religious family that were amiable enough to their brood and cloth, but violent towards outsiders and other factions/interpretations of their faith. Not actually nobles themselves, they became rich through warmongering and pillaging in the name of their faith.

All of the blood thirsty, conquering tendencies funneled into Artemy, who has a deep sense of devotion to the church, and shame towards his ‘sinful’ urges. On the other hand, the baby faced Nikolai doesn’t feel much of a connection towards his family’s faith and is mostly in it for the perks of being rich. He’s got a smart mouth but would rather use it to chase cute nuns and alter boys.

Normally, their practices would alienate them from the rest of the church cause pillaging and taking prisoners for hard labour are bad no matter the reasons.

But they were in the right place at the right time when conflicts between countries intensified. The Dragomirovs were needed for the survival of their faith and the collection of kingdoms linked by it. As their victories grew, they were heralded as heroes by their church and lords.

Fearing that the flow of invaders would never end, the church decided to permanently keep the Dragomirovs as guardians. The archbishops came together and did a ritual sacrifice of a powerful demon/fallen angel to make the family extremely powerful (mega hornie) vampires.

This is kind of taking from when the middle ages catholic church said you could buy your way to heaven as long as you paid them enough, and did enough things in the name of the church. Then, you can pretty much drink wine out of duck pussy and still be guaranteed past the pearly gates.

As a reward for their deeds, and the feat of slaying that demon, they became immortal fanged monsters that could indulge in their bloodlust and regular lust as much as they wanted. Halos appeared around their pupils, glowing as a sign of their divinity, and their bites were addictive, forcing victims into complete loyal servitude. They are allowed to walk in daylight, and church relics can’t hurt them.

They’re weak to demonic things or people, though that’s relative to skill. Being demonic means having a chance at hurting them but their main profession is killing demons. They could be overpowered but there aren’t any countries or armies left to pose that much of a threat.

Despite being a kind of vampire, the family hates ‘evil’ vampires, and indiscriminately hunt them and other supernatural creatures. Witches and warlocks also get the torch, though that’s more of a formality since the family drinks them dry anyways.

That being said, the dragomirov’s own beneficiaries started to fear them cause they would go around turning people into their vampiric servants or gather a huge harem. That was mostly nikolai but Artemy periodically snaps and indulges in vice harder than his brother does.

It got worse after Artemy got antsy that conflicts were dying down, he wanted to do counter-invasions against the wishes of his parents. Keeping the borders strong was their priority, but Artemy’s bloodthirst was out of control. He killed them and went on to lead war campaigns that would soon earn him the title Warlord Saint. Countries he’s lead his armies through were know to burn for months, turning the sky gray with smoke, and turning the sun a ghastly red.

Nikolai, jealous little bastard, started getting jealous of all of Artemy’s fame. People feared him as much as they wanted to fuck him ajkgdldgds. The members of the church saw this growing  resentment as an  opportunity to end the chaos by supporting nikolai in his bid for power.

Getting the better of Artemy, nikolai defeated him in a duel but still cared about him enough to want to keep him alive. So artemy was pinned to the inside of a coffin with a sharpened demon’s rib. Nikolai had slashed his face during the duel, and the claw marks will never stop bleeding, which flows out of the locked coffin which got stuck under the alter of the family’s church building.

So, Nikolai didn’t go pillaging anymore or starting fights, but he went ham on his own brood and anyone that happened to wander into his territory. Became known as the Grand Hedonist by sticking his dicc in every priest and nun, indulged in the church’s riches which in turn cursed all of that shit.

The Kingdoms turned into a circus, with so much blood and nut spilling into the ground that it spoiled the soil and spread a horrible plague. What remained of the church members that  gave the dragomirov’s their power couldn’t ask for help from their lord because the family had served him so well. They had to instead turn to the king of lies downstairs to seal Nikolai and his followers in his  estate to be swallowed by the earth. All of this in exchange for forsaking their faith and becoming new demon lords.

That’s it, and peace gradually came back after much sacrifice but the next time conflict breaks out and  fresh blood is spilled on their  ancestral homeland, the brothers are prophesized  to break  out of their prison and spread their curse anew.

Side notes:

Dragomirov isn’t the last name of their parents. Their dad was named dragomirov and had a big ego so he gave his sons this surname. Drago means ‘precious’ and mir means ‘peace’ which is some added irony.

Artemy is very devout, all about following the good word to the T, and sacrificing every bit of himself for it. but can't stop himself from getting violence boners and will get randy while he’s in his nasty blood soaked armor, but is likely to break his partners bones when he gets out of control

Tho he denies it, Artemy has a taste for people with  green eyes and will make a beeline for them. Like, skips over entire areas cause he heard of someone with pretty green eyes. it's cause his combat teacher had green eyes but otherwise he likes gentle people cause even tho his parents were very strict, his teacher was fair and had a soft spot for him

Nikolai loves the polar opposite; fighters and people that take work to break down. Can’t keep his hands to himself when it comes to scars cause they tell him that he's got a fighter in a cage

Artemy uses his mind control powers a lot but Nikolai prefers not to cause he likes chasing and watching his prisoners try to escape

opposites going on where Artemy tries to be intense but gets very baby with his S/O, snuggling up to them and clinging to them even tho he's much bigger and bulkier. and Nikolai pretends to be a good boy on the clingy side but will bite down to make people do his bidding

The brothers both keep momentos/trophies from vampires or other creatures they’ve slain. Fangs, horns, and claws are stuff that Artemy likes to keep and wear for intimidation factor, but nikolai likes wet stuff which includes eyes, tongues, and organs for aesthetic decoration.

Nikolai loves keeping werewolves as pet dogsbut like, he'll fuck em too. his werewolves are trying to bite him through their mesh muzzles but he laughs and says that they're actually kissing him

usually, the brothers both zero in on the same person even if they’re jelly of each other but they'll DP if they're too horny to fight each other.

Artemy is covered in battle scars and in most settings, covers his face in bandages or a mask (with his eyes uncovered) to keep his permanently bleeding face gashes from getting everything wet all the time.

Nikolai doesn’t throw himself into harrowing fights as much as his brothers so he doesn’t have as many scars, but loves piercings. His parents didn’t tho so he couldn’t get face piercings or even ear piercings. Even after they had died, the compulsion still stuck. Instead he has tons of body piercings and is very proud of the ones on his dick.

Artemy is more of a classical gothic romantic where he takes his  S/O to hilariously emo poetic dates, like picnics at the cemetery. Nikolai can barely stand wearing a tie the proper way and would rather eat pussy under a truck.

The brothers’ fangs are so sharp that it even cuts up their own mouths, and their partners’ tongues when they make out. Specifically Nikolai’s fangs are slightly too big for his mouth so they stick out a bit and make his lip bleed when he’s not careful