#me?? dusting off my old sabrina??

[doubledaybooks]

BAD CREE by Jessica Johns

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Before I look down, I know it’s there. The crow’s head I was clutching in my dream is now in bed with me. I woke up with the weight of it in my hands, held against my chest under the covers. I can still feel its beak and feathers on my palms. The smell of pine and the tang of blood sting my nose. My pillow feels for a second like the cold, frozen ground under my cheek. I yank off my blanket, heavy like I’m pulling it back from the past, and look down to my hands, now empty. A feeling of static pulses inside them like when a dead limb fills with blood again. They are clean and dry and trembling.

Shit. Not again.

I step gingerly out of bed, as though the world in front of me might break, and turn on the light, wait for my eyes to adjust. It illuminates my blanket on the floor, the grey sheet kicked into a clump. Every breath I take is laboured, and when I blink, my dream flashes onto the back of my eyelids. Running through the woods. The snow glistening in the clearing. The crows covering Sabrina’s body.Heart thumping in my chest, I kneel next to the bed, how I imagine I might if I ever were to pray. “Come on,” I plead into the covers. “Where are you?”

I feel across the bedsheet for anything: blood, feathers, twig-small bones. My fingers shake and search by touch in between pillows, into every crease and wrinkle of the fitted sheet. I turn on the flashlight on my phone and use it to look into shadows, but I find nothing. My shirt, when I bring it up to my nose, smells like the outside in winter, like pine trees and sharp cold.

“You son of a bitch, come on.” I kick the blanket to the side and put my cheek to the floor, scanning underneath the bed and bedside table. Dust and crumbs sit forgotten in dry corners. An old plate, mould forming along the ridges, lies next to holey socks. I close my eyes. My awake mind is trying to fog the dream over, shake it away, but I hold on to it. I know it was there, in my hand. As real as the floor still against my cheek, I was holding a crow’s head when I woke up. I can still smell the blood in the bedroom air and feel where its beak pressed into my palm, right above my heart line. Throbbing and hot.

I think of the dream while I shower. I lather shampoo into my hair and rinse, watch the brown strands circle the drain. This is the third dream in three weeks. The third time I’ve brought something back with me.

In the first two dreams, I brought back branches. I broke them off the trees as I was running through the woods in a panic. The first time it happened, the branch disappeared as soon as I woke up and looked down at it. The second time, the moon was big and full outside, and I caught a glimpse of the flimsy stick gripped between my palms. That time, I held on tight, but it still disappeared. I had hoped that if I held on hard enough, I would understand how I could have a pine bough in my hands when the last pine tree I’d seen was a thousand kilometres away in Alberta.

I close my eyes and let the warm water stream against my face, but I’m still shivering against the memory of last night. In my dream, I was in the middle of the winter woods, wearing only what I wore to bed that night: an old T-shirt and sweats. I cursed at myself for not following my idea after the last dream to wear shoes and something warmer to bed. At least it was better than the first dream, when I went to sleep naked.

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Excerpted from Bad Cree by Jessica Johns. Copyright © 2023 by Jessica Johns. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

About A Boy: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Dean gets turned back into a teenager and realizes one thing: his Mark is gone. Is this his salvation or his downfall?

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

"Yeah, we have that stuff in the trunk," Sam clears his throat. "So, we'll get you changed back and light Sabrina's ass up."

"About that," Dean chuckles. "It turns out, this whole freak show has an upside." Dean pulls his shirt sleeve up to reveal his arm doesn't have the Mark. "The Mark is gone."

"How?"

"This witch slammed me back into the body I had when I was fourteen. I didn't have the Mark back then. If we reverse this spell, it's gonna come back. What if we don't?"

"Wait a second. Are you saying you want to stay like this?" you ask.

"No, but if it's between a psycho rage monster/borderline demon or a teenager, well..."

"Really?"

"Look, I'm not a fan, either but this is a problem solved. I'm still me. I can still hunt. I'm just, you know, dewier."

"You kind of have a point, but--"

"There are no buts, Sam," Dean cuts his brother off. "Good news is I have a virgin liver. So, what do you say when we're done doing our hero thing, we take her for a spin?"

"Yeah, sure. I mean, you can drink again in like seven years?"

"That's not funny," Dean says seriously.

"That's kind of funny."

"That's not funny."

"It's kind of funny," you smirk.

Silence fills the Impala and something comes over Sam and Dean. Both brothers are thinking the exact same thing. If Dean never changes back, what's going to happen when they shove a fourteen-year-old soul back into your body? Did Dean's soul revert back to that age, too? If so, did yours? Does this mean your soul is purely white now?

Sam arrives at the house Dean was kept in and immediately follows his brother to the small window he escaped from. This window is too small for either you or Sam to fit through so you'll have to find another entrance into the basement. There is a light on inside the house indicating someone is home.

"Looks like someone's home."

"We gotta get Tina out first. The window is still open."

"There is no way I'll fit through that," Sam says.

"First time you ever had to say that, huh?" Dean smirks.

"Big talk coming from the dude wearing underoos."

"Okay, good one," Dean nods. "Go find another entrance."

"Come on," Sam says to you.

Sam finds the back door and easily slips in. Tina and the witch might be upstairs but Dean is downstairs in the basement. When you get there, some big man has Dean in a chokehold. Sam hits the man in the back of the neck causing him to let go of Dean. The man falls to the ground and Dean joins your side.

"Don't!" Sam yells when he is about to get up. "Where's the girl?"

"Upstairs. Alive."

"What did you do to us?" Dean asks.

"Nothing. I'm not a witch. I just work for one."

"Shitty gig," you scoff. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs. Her name is Katja and she's the worst person in the world."

"I don't know. I work with this one," Dean gestures to you.

"Yeah, truth be told, I'm as evil as it gets," you smile.

"I've been with her for centuries. The things I've seen her do. She made my sister and I hurt and kill people. When we tried to escape, she caught us and tortured me, then she made me eat poor Gretel's heart."

"Gretel? Witch? Are you saying you're Hansel? Gretel and Hansel? Like the fable? Like Brothers Grimm?"

"It wasn't a fable." Hansel gets up and dusts off his pants. "It was based on a true story. They just gave it a happy ending."

"Oh, okay. We get to barbecue a celebrity. Cool," Dean shrugs.

"You can't kill her. You're just men and a woman."

"We're more than that." Sam takes out the Molotov cocktail that will be used to kill the witch. "We're hunters."

"Then let me help."

"What's in it for you?"

"Because if you're going to fry that candy-coated bitch, I want in."

"Tell me how to turn him back," Sam says and keeps the gun trained on him.

"Sam, it can wait," Dean sighs.

"Tell me how!!"

"The hex bag that I'm wearing will reverse the spell. Squeeze it and you'll return to your proper age." Sam lowers his gun. "Look, we waste the witch, I give you the cure. Deal?"

Once both brothers agree to the terms, Hansel takes all three of you upstairs. Katja is cooking in the kitchen and Tina is tied to a chair with a gag over her mouth. Katja chops onions up and places them into the large pot that's on the stove.

"Your friend JP didn't have much meat on his bones," she chuckles, "but a good cook works with the ingredients she's given." She tastes the soup and grins happily. "Mmm. Wunderbar!" The witch is originally from Germany so she'll put a few words in German from time to time. Tina cries quietly and Katja sees this. "Oh, don't worry, liebchen. You're too good for soup. I'm thinking of a nice, sweet chili glaze with a few hours of roasting in the oven. Ooh! An apple in your mouth to top it off."

Hansel steps into the kitchen alerting the witch.

"Hansel." You three appear behind him. You have a knife in your hand, Sam has a gun, and Dean has the Molotov cocktail in his. "Well, our lost lamb. I thought we'd have to go looking for you. Maybe even abandon our home sweet home here. I never dreamt you'd be stupid enough to come back on your own. Hansel, take care of them."

Hansel doesn't respond and walks to the right side of you, between you and Tina.

"Yeah, he's not exactly your biggest fan. Maybe you shouldn't have made him chow down on his sister."

Katja smirks and looks at Hansel.

"I never made Hansel do anything."

Suddenly, the knife is knocked out of your hand and Hansel pushes you into the wall behind you. He kicks Sam and grabs his gun, disarming him. Hansel quickly grabs you and places you in front of him, putting the gun to your head. Dean curses and tries to light the Molotov Cocktail but Katja uses her magic and sends it flying against the wall. The bottle breaks which means the spell is useless against her.

"Now, who's hungry?" she grins evilly.

Sam tries to move but Hansel shoves the gun further into your head.

"Don't move or I will kill her."

You're not scared, obviously, but you do value your life. If you were to make a move, he'd kill you. You'd like to live to see another day so you don't move an inch. Katja walks up to Dean and feels his arm.

"Ooh, scrawny. We'll have to fatten you up."

"Don't fucking touch me," Dean glares and yanks his arm away.

"I'm gonna do more than that." She walks back to the kitchen island. "Children. They're so sweet and delicious. You'll see." She looks at Hansel and nods once. "When I cook him up, I'll give you some, hmm?"

"If you like kids so much, why not go after kids? What's with this whole fountain of youth?" Sam asks.

"In the olden days, if a child went missing, it didn't matter. The young died all the time. Now, with all your AMBER Alerts and your milk cartons, a person fillets one rugrat and people get so angry. So, I improvise. I take adults no one will miss and give them back their youth. It's the only way I can eat in peace."

Sam slowly reaches into his back pocket where his knife is. Dean sees this and decides to stall the witch and keep the focus on him.

"Is it worth it? I mean, the word on the street is people kind of taste like chicken."

"A bit. European children are more free-range and gamier. Americans, though, are Heaven... fattier. The meat is so finely marbled that it's almost buttery. I just can't get enough."

"Awesome," Dean rolls his eyes.

"No! I am in awe. This is my first visit to your country, and I have to say, God Bless the U.S.A!"

"Oh, so, you're a tourist?"

"No. It's business, not pleasure. An old friend is causing trouble and the Grand Coven asked me to take of her. Poor, stupid Rowena."

"Rowena?" you bark out a laugh. "That bitch? Does she have red hair and have a thing for ritzy hotels?"

Katja drops the vegetable she is holding in shock.

"How do you know that?"

Sam finally gets his knife out without anyone noticing but you and Dean. He immediately lunges for Katja with the knife while Dean tackles Hansel to the ground. You jumped out of the way just at the right time so you didn't go down with them. You back up and stand next to Tina to watch this unfold.

Katja goes to stab Sam with her knife but he knocks it out of her hand. She uses her magic and flings him into the bookcase by the door, and he crumbles to the ground along with everything else on it. Hansel elbows Dean off him and grabs him by the collar to repeatedly slam him into the ground. Tina looks at you to see if you're going to do anything but you wave her off.

"He's fine," you shrug.

Katja opens the fiery oven, and Hansel shoves Dean three times against the fridge. Dean slides to the ground and looks at Sam who is too weak to get up. He looks at you and sees no regard for his safety in your eyes.

"Now you'll burn!" Katja yells. "Turn them!"

Hansel turns to you and Sam with an evil grin on his face. He grabs his neck where the hex bag should have been but realizes it's gone. He turns to Dean and goes white when he sees Dean has the hex bag. Dean clutches the bag and squeezes it, giving off a pure white light that is too bright to look at. Dean, now in his normal adult body, grabs the knife Katja dropped on the ground and shoves it deep into Hansel's chest.

He stomps over to Katja and shoves the hex bag into her mouth so she can't use any spells against him. She struggles against him but he shoves her into the open fiery oven and closes the door. She screams and begs to be let out but Dean closes the little door that lets the smoke out.

Dean didn't use the Blade to kill someone but he did take two lives. Your Mark is tingling in the most delicious way.

With the witch and Hansel dead, Tina is let go and forced to face the gravity of the situation. The brothers bring her outside the house to talk while you're off to the side picking the bark of a tree.

"That was crazy. Like psycho crazy. You three do this all the time?"

"All the fucking time."

"Not all the time," Sam mutters.

"Can you turn me back?"

"The hex bag went up in flames. I'm so sorry, Tina." She looks disappointed but not as much as she should. "We may be able to reverse engineer the spell, though."

She looks at her reflection in the window and decides to come to terms with who she is now.

"Maybe you don't. I have three ex-husbands, fifty grand in debt, and not much else. I was kind of a shitty adult. Maybe I'll do better this time around. Get out of town and get a fresh start. This is my second chance. Everybody wants a second chance, right?"

Dean looks over at you but you're not paying attention to them. Do you deserve a second chance? When she shoves this soul back into you, you'll remember every horrible thing you've said and done. Does he really want to do that to you? He'll have to make a deal with Death and put a wall in your head to make you forget.

That will be your second chance.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Dean asks.

"Like I told you, I always am."

"Can we at least give you a ride somewhere?"

"To a bus station would be nice."

You and Tina head for the car and Dean sticks his hand out toward Sam.

"Give me the keys."

Sam and Dean take Tina to the nearest bus station while you stay in the car. Both of them give her all the cash they have so she can use it to get herself out of town. She thanks them and heads into the station, and the brothers return to the car.

"So, Grand Coven. Any ideas?" Dean asks.

"It doesn't sound good."

"It sounds like an 80's hair metal band. You know, a lot of hair spray, a lot of eye shadow, and a lot of keytar." Sam stares blankly at Dean. "No? Nothing? Come on, man. I'm painting a word picture here."

"Is it back?"

Dean sighs and lifts his sleeve to show that the Mark is indeed back on his arm.

"Look, I know what you're going to say, okay? But you were in deep."

"I know. You saved me, Tina, and Y/N. You pulled a Dean Winchester. Thank you."

"Anytime," Dean smiles.

"Do I wish the mark was gone? Yes, of course, on both of you," You roll your eyes, "but I wanted you back more. Here you are and you didn't Hulk out. I'll take the win. As for the rest of it—the mark, everything else--we'll figure it out. We always do."

"Damn right. Let's get out here." Dean starts the car and he smiles when she purrs. "I'm back, baby."

Dean turns on the radio and Taylor Swift's Shake It Off plays over the radio. Sam looks to Dean expecting him to switch the song but he keeps it playing. Sam continues to stare at Dean but the older brother shrugs and leaves it on. He peels out of the parking lot with it still playing.

"I don't know about you two but we need to figure out where the hell my soul went. I want my magic back."

"That's something considering you're out for blood."

"What can I say? I want to switch it up this time."

If you can get them to believe you want your soul back, then you can trick them into giving you the remote for the device on your neck. Your time is up on this ride, and you finally want off it.

x

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[dustedmagazine]

Listening Pest: The albums that disappointed, bored and infuriated us in 2024

We’re lovers, not haters, here at Dusted.  We’ll go to the mat for records you never heard of, records that you probably couldn’t find even with the old, functional Google Search, and a few records that, maybe, technically, legally, don’t actually exist.  We celebrate what’s good and mostly ignore what’s bad or mediocre, at least we do for all but one feature out of a year of them.

Readers, you have arrived at this feature. 

Here, Dusted writers reflect on the music that pissed them off, the songs that, when they turned up on “best of” lists, made us clap our foreheads in consternation, the albums that should have been so much better.  We recognize that these are personal views, and we sincerely hope not to hurt the feelings of people who love and esteem these records.  But we also relish the chance to let loose, for once.  The writing in this feature is some of the best you’ll read all year.  It’s my favorite thing to edit—not sure what that says about me, but there you go. 

Not everyone participated (see paragraph one), but Jonathan Shaw, Patrick Masterson, Jennifer Kelly, Bryon Hayes and Ian Mathers did.    

Blood Incantation — Absolute Elsewhere (Century Media)

A slab of maximalist prog and irritatingly supercilious “heavy” music, Absolute Elsewhere pulls off a notable trick. Blood Incantation has conjured (the better word here is likely “produced”) a variety of death metal that’s utterly bloodless, duller than dirt displaced from the grave. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so literal. Death metal doesn’t really have to be malodorous, moldy or mutilated — but it doesn’t hurt. But that suggests a more significant point: the best death metal hurts. It’s full of disgust, dreadful drama and rage at the human condition, which is always doomed to death. Blood Incantation seems to have zero interest in feelings of doom and diminishing concern with the fate of bodies and their meaty materiality. The band would rather get smoked out and gaze into the heavens, spinning Wish You Were Here (check out the near-quotations from “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” in “The Message [Tablet III]”) and paging through a pile of Orson Scott Card novels with sticky fingers. Whatever. You do you. But the concepts — a word the record’s arch sensibility just about insists on — are risible, and the music’s preening theatricals have all the charm of Rick Wakeman’s gold lamé cape ‘n’ cowl set. It’s death metal primed for an extended gig at the Las Vegas Sphere, and that might explain why Absolute Elsewhere has ended up on so many highly visible EOY lists: Pitchfork, The Needle Drop, NPR(yep, NPR…). It’s got spectacle, and there are a couple parts where it gets loud, but ultimately, it’s a safe bet.

Jonathan Shaw

Sabrina Carpenter — Short n’ Sweet (Island)

Truth be told, this should really go to Lake Street Dive for me, but I somehow managed to avoid actually listening to them for most of the year. Sabrina Carpenter, though, was much like Chappell Roan and Charli XCX in being unavoidable for several months during the summer. It didn’t matter what kind of place it was, if I stayed long enough, I’d inevitably hear “Espresso.” I couldn’t tell you when it first hit me because, unlike a good shot of the stuff, Carpenter’s sub-Ariana Grande pipes and the casual acoustic guitar plucks do anything but “hit,” the equivalent of aural wallpaper. I’m listening to this record again right now, repeatedly forgetting it’s on, and nothing has swayed my opinion — this is an album and a moment for people really going through it to the point that they can’t hear how boring the vindictiveness is. I’m not even talking about the “everyone except privileged white men” moment, either; I’m talking about your longtime girlfriend cheating on you with your barber and now you’re posting one-star Yelp reviews to get back at them. If that’s not you, if you’re just wallowing in the general malaise of being alive, you don’t count. Also, not for nothing, but I wrote all of this, and I still haven’t gotten to “Slim Pickins” yet. The longest 12 songs and 36 minutes of the year by a comfortable margin (and if Lake Street Dive put a record out, please don’t make me test that theory).

Patrick Masterson

Kim Deal — Nobody Loves You More (4AD)               

Kim Deal is responsible for some of the most monumental—and at the same time minimal—of all rock bass lines, from the ominous pulse of the Pixies “Gigantic” to the anarchic bounce of The Breeders’ “Cannonball.” Her first-ever solo album is very much NOT like that. Instead, it swathes fragile melodies in full-to-overtipping arrangements, with orchestras of strings, Hawaiian slack key guitars, and mariachi bands worth of brass, a lushness that only highlights the ordinariness of her voice and songs. Let’s put some more whipped cream on that turd, how about it?

Jennifer Kelly

Fontaines DC — Romance (XL)

The Dublin five-some swings wide on this fourth full-length, appealing to the masses with pastel colored choruses and limp indie flourishes. It works on a commercial level — after all, this is the disc that got them Grammy nominations, endless “best of” love and a slot on Obama’s play list — but excises everything that made Fontaines DC exciting. What if we took out the dank broody bits and fell in love? What if we ditched the Irish-ness and took a stab at Coldplay? What if we chewed down Fontaines DC’s dark magic into pablum, something so soft and ingratiating that even the Spotify addled masses could get it down? Rarely have I been so excited to listen and so quickly, bitterly disillusioned. One good song comes right at the end in “Death Kink” but that is NOT enough.

Jennifer Kelly

Mercury Rev — Born Horses (Bella Union)

I was so looking forward to this record, the first Mercury Rev album after an almost ten-year gap. I love both the harried brilliance of the band’s early records and the lush psychedelia born of their marriage with David Fridmann. My synapses were short circuiting in anticipation of Born Horses. This fact amplifies my disappointment with the record. Between Jonathan Donahue’s spoken-word delivery, which comes across as a hushed ASMR-inducing purr, and the band’s milquetoast reading of their once-grandiose chamber-psychedelia, I feel the bile rising in the back of my throat and I get choked up whenever I try to play the record. I get it: Donahue and Sean "Grasshopper" Mackowiak are looking for new directions to take their sound after decades of exploratory music making, and they’re lacking Fridmann’s guidance, but I’d rather experience another See You on the Other Side than this weak-limbed attempt at chamber-beat poetry. Let’s hope this is a mere meander away from the otherwise eclectic and intriguing trajectory traveled by these upstate New York weirdos.

Bryon Hayes

Jessica Pratt — Here in the Pitch (WV Sorcerer Productions)

In personal relationships, saying “it’s not you, it’s me” is commonly regarded as the mark of a cad and/or liar, a convenient excuse at best. But here, I swear I am being both sincere and (as far as I can tell) accurate. I know I first heard of Jessica Pratt around the time her second record, 2015’s On Your Own Love Again, came out and I’d been idly meaning to check out her work ever since then. She seemed to be having a real moment this year with Here in the Pitch, she seems like a cool person, and looking at her discography I deeply respect her commitment to the sub-32 minute LP (an underrated length). But after I hit play and quite enjoy the instrumental intro to “Life Is,” Pratt starts singing… and it just hits my ears wrong. I can’t explain it. I don’t at all think she has a bad voice (arguably I like several other singers that have various things in common with her, vocally). I realize, seeing Here in the Pitch show up on more and more year-end lists (including Dusted ones!), that I am in the minority here, and honestly, I think that’s good! But seeing comment after comment praising the singing here specifically is just a stark reminder that sometimes, people just hear things differently. I wish I did like Pratt’s voice; I suspect I’d enjoy this album quite a bit, maybe enough for it to make my own list. And to be clear, unlike some other acts I don’t enjoy, there’s no part of me that irrationally feels like everyone else is ‘wrong’; if anything, I feel frustratingly close to getting the appeal! But I just can’t seem to get past viscerally not getting her singing. I went back to the LP months after my first try, figuring maybe I just had to get used to it, but no. Really, truly: it’s not Pratt, it’s me.

Ian Mathers

Vampire Weekend — Only God Was above Us (Columbia)

The arguments over Vampire Weekend’s class tourism and cultural adventurisms are old and tired, but the band keeps making gestures that churn up the discourse. See the video for “Gen-X Cops,” which features Vampire Weekend riding a battered, tagged-up subway train, likely making the run to the Bronx — note the several moments at which the train rises into sunlight, onto Upper West Side elevated tracks. The graffitied car conjures a historical NYC, all grainy celluloid footage, lurid spray paint and flashes of urban spaces and experiences now lost to multiple forces: gentrification, trauma, mortality. The video rolls on, unbothered, and briefly Vampire Weekend’s three members sit facing us, having scored seats; the camera presents a further imaginary provocation, as Koenig (still baby faced, ever belying the impression that he should know better by now), Baio and Tomson suddenly wear NYC cop uniforms. The visual metaphor seems to ask: Who has the right to police culture? Whose cops work the history beat? Koenig sings, “It wasn’t built for me / It’s your academy.” The vaguely anti-institutional bent of the lyric is complicated by the video’s closing images: a crowd exiting the subway train in the density of a morning commute. It’s the masses. The camera shifts to a perspective that hovers over them as they make for the exits. One wonders if an additional metaphorical resonance were intended by that vantage: the band’s desire for a place above the press of humanity, observing its struggle but not in it. That’s on the nose for Vampire Weekend, a band that has never made music for those people, has never indicated any sort of an interest in them. Promo chatter about Only God Was above Us talked up the record’s “grit,” but I can’t discern any. The songs provide the usual gloss and gleam, distractingly slick surfaces and irritatingly bright tones. It’s mostly blithe, here and there preciously mopey, full of snide winks at “Prep School Gangsters” and love letters to uber-hip Soho gallery owners. Whose academy is that? The best Koenig can do by way of answer is in the chorus to “Pravda”: “Your consciousness is not my problem.” OK. Then please stop cluttering it with your effete quietism and get off the A Train. It’s public space, in which everybody’s consciousness is everybody’s problem.

Jonathan Shaw

[alparlaboratories]

To Another Abyss - Chapter 14: Struck a Nerve

(Chapters -which are usually between 500-1000 words- will be posted daily here first on Tumblr, and will later be posted in 7-8 chapter batches on AO3.)

-

Kanto has changed a lot in the past ten years. The League is no more, and trainers are now only tools for the rich and powerful, either mercenaries or dogs of the government.

Sabrina is the latter. She is to play the role of Gym leader in a sick, twisted mockery of the art she once admired, bearing the name of her childhood idol, a woman who is now wanted across the region. All for the entertainment of Kanto’s shadowy new rulers.

It’s a role she doesn’t mind playing. At least until an unusual challenger comes into her Gym, into the life she’s worked so hard to build, and begins to unravel it all.

-

Chapter 14 - Struck a Nerve:

Afternoon was slowly giving way to night, the last orange rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves of the only tree in Sabrina’s pitiful attempt at a garden. And there, resting against the trunk, the young Gym leader read a small, worn book. Her breathing was slow and automatic, thin wisps of cold vapor leaving her lips every time she exhaled.

The oak behind her remained as strong and healthy as ever despite the coming winter. A handful of Pokemon (both wild and belonging to the Gym) rested atop its many branches, including the infamous Abra who only knew Teleport, the first Pokemon she’d ever fought with in this place.

So immersed was she in the book that she didn’t notice the man’s presence until he knelt in front of her, peering over the book curiously.

“WH-!?”

Sabrina instinctively jumped, slamming the back of her head against the sturdy oak.

“Fuck! W-what… what the hell are you doing here!?” she sputtered out, rising to her feet in a panic. “There’s… people guarding both entrances, how…!?”

The man with the cross formed a careless smile, arms resting over his knees as he looked up at her.

“I have my methods,” he shrugged.

“What are you, a ninja?”

“Hehe.”

After looking around for a moment, the man let out a whistle and pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his knees. “Anyway, what’s this supposed to be? A setting for a horror movie? And what are you reading?”

Before Sabrina could stop him, the man was rifling through the small pile of books next to where she’d been sitting, inspecting the covers and authors.

“Robert Frost, Neruda, Stephen Crane…”

“T-that’s none of your business, bastard!”

Only then did the man turn to look at her, and the little O that his mouth became told Sabrina she’d forgotten a very important detail.

“Hey, aren’t your eyes a bit wet?” he said with sudden glee in his voice. “What, did one of these mean old books make the heartless Gym leader tear up?”

Sabrina’s reaction was as swift as it was predictable.

“Shut up! This is… I got some dust on…” Seeing that her excuses were pointless, each one only widening her rival’s amused smile, she decided to change her approach. “Bah! As if a brainless idiot like you could understand the beauty that lies in these-”

“Then teach me.”

The man wasn’t smiling anymore as he took a step toward her, staring straight into her eyes. And in that breathless moment, his usual childishness fell from his expression like a mask cracking, and beneath was the face of a more mature, deathly serious man.

“I want to see it too,” he said. “If what your eyes see is truly that beautiful… then I too…”

The Gym leader’s brain had turned off completely. It wasn’t until the man spoke again, that listless smile of him returning, that she could even take a breath.

“What’s wrong?” he said, tone teasing. “Your face is all red.”

[bordelinski]

If you follow my legacy blog and this one, I'm sorry you have to see this twice. I'm blowing the dust off this old save if anyone wanted to check it out.

This legacy is sort of separate from the legacy on my main with Kyra. I say "sort of" because it takes place in an AU. But Sabrina's maiden name was Martinez, she had a brother who was Everett's Grandfather. Everett is, of course, Kyra's father! LINK TO TREE

Makes me think I should do a family tree for the Martinez family...

It has been 2 years since I posted to this legacy blog. And during that time, Plum Tree closed and I did not save my tree! I thought to just abandon this save but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Six hours later (after digging through folders for old saves) I was able to recreate it!

The next few days I will be posting recaps for the first three generations. Then a general "who's who" and wrapping up those elaborate story lines I had going. Then it will be more of pure gameplay posts.

I am working on creating one of those nifty "pinned post" navigation for mobile users but I'm an old dog and it takes a bit for me to learn new tricks. So expect it in the next week or so. To those faithful still following this blog, bless you! And if you're new, welcome to chaos, where EVERY member of each generation gets played. :P

[witchaotics-archive]

I read the new Sabrina comic and it makes me wanna rp her again.

[whatagirlwants]

“decode” by sabrina carpenter analysis

i really love this track so i decided to write about it. everything is based on what i think so please take this with a grain of salt.

[Verse 1] You're good at the falling, not the staying there You're good at the giving too much, then getting scared You're good at impersonating someone who cares And you had me for a minute there

 sabrina feels deceived by this person as if their love for her was just a hoax because they didn’t stay. 

[Pre-Chorus] But now I wonder why I let your confusion keep me up at night I'm so tired Reread every single undertone, and I

sabrina wonders why she let this persons confusion on their relationship and how they feel keep her up at night. it’s a consistent thing we see sabrina mention throughout the album like in Tornado Warnings

“I deserve an hour in a week to focus on my thoughts Not so obsessed with yours, I can't hear myself speak I deserve my own consideration, but sometimes, I wish I kept Some of my feelings in the basement so I'd still have some left”

and in ”how many things”:

“I consider you, I'm not trying to It doesn't matter whether not I want to I can't help it, it's a habit Your corner in my mind is well established”

sabrina has spent so much of her time thinking of this person, living in her mind rent free. she considers them even if she doesnt want to because of how much they occupy her mind, that in “decode” she wonders why she even let it keep her up and night.

[Chorus] Overanalyzed it Front, back and beside it Where else can we go? There's nothing left here to decode Done looking for signs in The gaps and the silence It's just gettin' old There's nothing left here to decode

sabrina’s done trying to understand this relationship or wonder what the back and fourth means. she’s done analyzing the situation and asking herself why. theres nothing left for her to decode she will just accept the situation as it it. she thinks she and her partner have nowhere to go after this and it wont go far even if she tried.

[Verse 2] There's a weight off my shoulders now that I don't chase you Being myself, did that emasculate you? Learning from you that I can walk away too And you had me for a minute too

sabrina feels the weight off her shoulders now that she’s done with the chase. she’s wondering if now that she is being herself and not chasing this person anymore if it weakened them. I think the chase was a consistent theme in the album like in Tornado Warnings, she was lying to her therapist cause she knew she wasn’t supposed to be in the park with that person. 

“Learning from you that I can walk away too And you had me for a minute too”

sabrina’s learning to walk away from her this relationship just like they did after the consistent chase and in many songs sabrina hits or indicates that this person left first.

which reminds me of sabrina’s original song “space and dust”

Is it heaven, is it hell, in there without me? You've got your space and dust But don't you still need love? If no one's there To hear you scream You can still reach out Your hand to me And I'm floating there I'll always be The brightest star in your galaxy

sabrina has always kept herself available for this person even after they had left but in decode she is closing that chapter up and walking away from it all cause theres nothing left for her here to decode. she’s done with wondering and keeping herself up at night because of it.

“decode” is such a beautiful song i love how sabrina talked about it here so i will quote her

she said that this song is a reminder to herself to accept whatever happens in her life as it is. “You are past the point of asking questions and asking Whys and asking Hows. It just is what it is.” 

My favorite line in it is “Learning from you that I can walk away too,” because that was just a very interesting moment in my life where I was like, “This is an option.” I had never looked at it as an option because I don’t consider myself someone that would easily give up on a situation. I consider myself someone that would stay past the point that I should for love. That was a big moment for me, when I was like, “OK, this is also an option for me as well. And that might even be better for me.” It’s sometimes easier to stay in a situation that might not be good for you than it is to gather the courage to leave.

[iwillnotrevealmyidentity]

Thoughts on Chloé’s character and antiheroes

Note: i am no way, shape or form excusing Chloé’s blatant racism and bullying. I do not believe Chloé is an angel nor that she is a particularly good person. I just think that her character is being done dirty and is obviously being poorly written. This is gonna be a long one so maybe grab some popcorn

I’m gonna start off by saying that I am waaay older than the target audience and that I’ve been studying writing for some time now( not in a uni environment, but as in a pastime should-be-doing-my-homework-instead way so take what i say regarding everything related to professional writing with a grain of salt) and i am more than obsessed with character building and development.

In season one, chloé is introduced to us as the bully/ mean girl of the show. To emphasize this point she even resembles regina george with the blonde hair and bougie lifestyle. At this point she is pretty much one dimensional, much like the rest of the characters. That’s okay since a*truc has specified that season 1 is supposed to set the scene(in a tweet i can’t find rn and i am also too high to). We’re just being introduced to the world and getting used to the overall lore before everything is delved in deeper in season 2. Chloé’s story—to me at least—begins in the episode antibug, where we find out that she idolizes ladybug and dresses up as her in her free time. Now, someone (I wish I had screenshot the post and were able to give the person credit) has pointed out that if Chloé were truly cruel she would never idolize ladybug—the embodiment of good. This episode alludes to chloé having a softer side and possibly not being such a bad person all in all. Sure, she was mean to sabrina, but she had just been embarrassed on tv and in front of jagged stone. Friends can get into fights and say mean things, that they ultimately don’t mean. Chloé was acting out of fear of being ridiculed, and, as of the events of Style Queen, maybe fear of her mother being disappointed at her if she happened to have watched the interview.

We see this sort of behavior again in Despair Bear, when Chloé is enraged when people find out about her teddy bear. Now, the thing is that Despair bear is also the episode when we first get a glimpse of Chloé’s past. It’s the episode where it’s revealed that her mother left her at a very young age

Despair Bear, at the time of its premiere, was my favorite episode because we’re shown that Chloé is in fact traumatized and has a fear of being abandoned. When you establish that as one of your characters’ backstory, you have to take into consideration how this will affect them over time. Obviously they are going to have some trouble fitting in. Not to mention the fact that andre is a push-over… And you have to be very careful when crafting their development.

Chloé’s never had a strong authority figure in her life, therefore she acts on instinct knowing that she can walk all over people just like she does with her dad. Just like her mother did and repeatedly does.

In Style Queen piece of shit Audrey comes back to Paris and she cannot/ will not get her daughter’s name right. I’ve never had children, nor will i ever do, but if i ever had to carry someone for nine months then go through the trouble of giving birth i know that’s not something i’d forget!! So what Chloé does next is purely to impress her mother. Everyone knows how style queen ends, but what i want to point out is what chloé does before finding the bee miraculous. She plays the part of the submissive daughter, catering to her mother’s approval so that she won’t get turned into glittery dust. Audrey is the one person chloé would ever submit and degrade herself to, because guess what, she is a 13/14 year old girl that just wants her mother to love her. So, even if she doesn’t agree with her mother’s behavior, and is by the way terrified, she pretends to be her loyal servant. Mostly to protect herself, but also to help ladybug. She basically risks being caught and enraging her mother for her hero. Proving once again, that she isn’t a completely horrible human being. Reinforcing all that’s been established up to now.

Zombizu is another good episode that continues on with the season 2 theme of diving into characters’ backstory—particularly Chloé’s, but this post is already too long to analyze all of these. So, moving on to Maledikator… here the episode focuses on chloé’s relationship with her father and the fact that no one is useless, as seen in her being trustworthy with the miraculous. The show practically shoves it in our faces that chloé is capable of helping lb and she in fact deserves her miraculous. This is explored in the season 2 finale. So far everything in her character development working smoothly and pretty much as it should.

Finally bringing me to the point i’ve been trying to get to: Chloé is an antihero. Or at least this is what she was supposed to be.

An antihero is basically a person that does bad things, but ultimately for good.

Chloé had all the makings for that, she was working towards being better. Sure the trauma still lingered, but she was given a purpose, her all time idol trusted her. She was still horrible to her classmates but… baby steps . Which is exactly what an antihero should be. Chloé was mostly doing good so lb could keep trusting her with the miraculous, but for a girl who’s been rejected by her mother since birth, was it such a bad thing? In her nature, chloé is an idol pleaser ™ and she had finally found an idol other than her mom who cared. Her wish to be someone of value was attained through unorthodox ways, but it wasn’t a bad wish. Just like a true antihero.

Some of these concepts i have touched/ will be touching in my chlolix fan fiction For you.Always on ao3. I’m a shameless plug hehe. But seriously tho check it out, it’s kinda good ig

And i know what you’re thinking, this is a kid show, why are you bringing up this whole antihero argument? Well, because kids need to know that just like the way people aren’t always completely good, they aren’t always completely bad either. A little girl with abandonment issues could be watching this and think that season 4 chloé is exactly what’s going to happen to her; that she’s irredeemable and that she doesn’t deserve good things to happen to her. They might not grasp the concept at first, but since they can understand the romance aspect of the story, they can understand that Chloé is less of a threat than hawkmoth is at least.

What happened in the season 3 finale was expected, because chloé had to reach her breaking point. What infuriates me is that a*truc does not blame marinette. She was the one who oscillated between the bee miraculous and the dragon miraculous, then chose kagami just because she was jealous that she was spending time with adrien. The obvious choice would have been chloé because her parents had been akumatized. Marinette never gets called out on her jealousy.

Naturally Chloé is enraged and it leads to the whole miracle queen situation. As I’ve pointed out, chloé only ever gets this mad when she’s embarrassed. This time she felt useless that her idol couldn’t even trust her to save her own parents. (And don’t get me that hawkmoth knew her identity bs because hawkie knew ryuko’s identity as well so that wasn’t an excuse. A*truc hates chloé). One thing that stood out to me was in this episode was the way Chloé looked at Pollen before forcibly renouncing her miraculous. She gave pollen a sad look, almost as if she would miss her/ regretted the fact that she lost her.

Chloé is a child. She has yet to learn everything about the world or what makes a person good or bad and stuff like that. When I was fifteen I idolized shit that I shouldn’t have, but it was okay because if i hadn’t, i wouldn’t have had any room to grow. Kids that watch Chloé need to understand that people can grow. And even if Chloé is rude, there are reasons behind those shitty actions. Sure, they don’t excuse the racist things she’s done, but it explains her. For a*truc to compare her to donald trump is disgusting. Because unlike her mother for example , chloé has never psychologically abused anyone. She thinks that her actions are okay because she’s too blinded by her idol pleasing. She is antihero because of that, because she’s complex in the sense that her misguided behavior comes from never being good enough for the person that gave you life. I for one can relate to that. My parents never being proud of anything i do is no excuse for the shitty kid i was or for the shitty things i’ve said to others. But i am able to understand that what they did affected me and that i can learn to be better.

Season 4 Chloé suffers from bad writing because her rock bottom isn’t portrayed correctly and because zoé is being written as a mary sue. Her sister was supposed to be her foil character, or even her light at the end of the tunnel. Instead we’re being shown how awful chloé is and zoé isn’t. What i would like to point out is the fact that we don’t know anything about her dad and that audrey actually spent all the time away from chloé in new york, where zoé is from. Oh, and audrey never gets her name wrong. Obviously, her relationship with her parents is different. Also, we haven’t gotten as much of an in-depth look at her backstory as we did with Chloé. Chloé’s rockbottom is lazy as she is reverted to her season 1 self. As so many have pointed out.

In conclusion, the writers have realized that they were turning chloé into a somewhat likable antihero, that had more depth than the main character and decided to scratch everything depriving the audience of a good, psychological look into abuse and trauma.

[its-deputy-caleb]

please write something about soft micah and how he secretly shows affection in camp? btw love your work!!

i've returned from my holiday ya'll 😌😌and so i thought i'd start it off with some soft micah. this ask was so fun and for reference i rewatched one of my favourite films 'Sabrina' (1954) and the soundtrack to that kinda gave me some inspo for this fic so i hope you can enjoy it! it's gender neutral and i just wanted to do something light hearted and fun to return to writing. thank u anon for this ask <3333

------------------------------------------------------

It was celebration in camp, not unlike Sean’s return party however this time the gang was celebrating the success of a large train job which took almost the entire gang to successfully pull off.

Sean was dancing on the table, trying to teach Lenny (YnneL?) how to Irish dance while Uncle was proclaiming to a small crowd how he knew the secrets of being an amazing lover.

Everyone was singing and dancing to either Javier’s playing or Hosea’s old folk songs. There was boxes of liquor in every nook and cranny and it was being drunk faster than it was being poured. It seems that there wasn’t a soul having fun…

There was one exception to that matter however, and that was the broody Micah Bell who saw no intentions in getting involved and instead chose to sharpen his already sharp knife. From where you stood, you could see him mumbling under his breath and having known him for long enough you knew he mumbled when he was moody.

You stood from the crate you were sitting on, dodging a very drunk Bill to make you way over to him. Your hand came to hold his chin, tilting his gaze from the knife to your soft smile.

“Hey there…”

Micah perks up slightly, but you still notice his tired eyes and the slight sheet of sweat over his temple. Behind Micah you see Molly and Dutch as well as (and very surprisingly) John and Abigail slow dancing to the gramophone in Dutch’s tent.

“Common, come and dance with me.”

Your other hand that’s not holding his chin takes his hand in yours but Micah’s always been a stubborn one.

“Now sweetheart, ya know I ain’t one for dancing. Why don’t you go ask a charmer like Arthur to dance with ya.”

You sigh and playfully roll your eyes as Micah puffs his chest out, thinking he’s too tough for dancing.

“Well for one, Arthur ain’t my sweetheart, you are dummy and secondly I don’t want dance with anyone but you.”

Micah flipped the knife between his fingers before holstering it, mumbling about dancing being a pain in his ass but you both knew how much he secretly loved it. He stood, shuffling with his gun belt and begrudgingly took your hand as you lead him to stand between the two couples already dancing.

A soft kiss was placed on your hand before Micah placed a hand around your waist and walk in slow circles with you. Pretty much everyone had stopped to stare at the two of you but you didn’t have a care in the world as Micah clumsily twirled you in his arms. You couldn’t help the giggle that left you and it certainly caused a large blush to form high on his cheeks.

“Darlin’ it seems some folks are staring”

By now your extravagant dancing had slowed to a soft and slow swaying as you just took in each other, although you could tell Micah was still nervous about making a mistake while so many people were staring by the way his eyes were glued to his feet. Your cheek came to press along side his own, feeling his prickly facial hair as you closed your eyes and hummed close to his ear. The hand that was draped over his shoulder came to tangle in his hair and rub slow circles on the base of his neck.

“Hmm… let them stare—“

You drew back from Micah, giving his hand a squeeze as you looked at him with all the love and adoration in the world.

“—Micah I wouldn’t care if the whole world was watching, as long as your eyes are on me I am the happiest person in the world.”

You knew everyone could hear you and you certainly knew everyone was watching but you leaned in and gave a soft but extravagant kiss to Micah’s cheek and then his lips as both your arms came to sit around his neck.

His hands moved to your waist, holding you against him tightly as if you’d ever let him go.

“Ain’t gonna be looking at anyone else beside ya sweetheart— love ya too much.”

“Oh Micah, I love you too”

-

You spent the better half of an hour dancing slowly with each other and giggling like children at some of the sights around you. John had gotten frustrated at one point, making Abigail storm off but Molly and Dutch were still in their own little world much like you were.

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh as Bill tried to sweet talk Karen in front of Sean after Uncle had encouraged him and how Swanson was pestering Strauss who tried to turn in for a relatively early night.

Eventually, your head came to rest on his chest— not in a way that showed you were tired, but completely content and happy with just slowly moving in circles. His heart was beating at a steady rhythm, although it was still a lot faster than you own but it still soothed you nonetheless as it matched the beat of the song.

You stayed like that for a lot longer than you’d thought. Long after Dutch had turned off the gramophone to sleep and the embers of the fire began to burn out until finally Micah led you back to your tent where the two of you fell asleep.

-

The next morning you woke with you head tucked under his arm and couldn’t stop the smile that came to your face as you caught a now very embarrassed Micah staring at you.

The peaceful moment didn’t last however as you had to help Ms Grimshaw start on the chores since you were one of the few members who weren’t hungover and still sleeping it off. With that you made you way to Pearson’s wagon but not before you stole a kiss from Micah who was complaining about you leaving.

A few hours past and you were working away at vegetables and meats for the stew. The early morning sun was starting to show along with some of the other gang members including Micah who walked over to you with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“I uhhh… thought you’d want this since ya been working for a while now.”

Smiling and dusting your hands off, you traded a kiss for the coffee— a deal Micah was happy to give.

When you sipped at your coffee and went back to work you noticed how Micah stayed to lean on the table beside you. His mouth opened you say something every five seconds but closed it again, shuffling awkwardly as he stared at you in hopes that you understood what he wanted without him having to say it.

While chopping at carrots and potatoes you held your elbows up and created space for Micah’s arms to fit. He didn’t hesitate to either as he shuffled forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, hands resting over your stomach as his chin rested over your shoulder to watch you work.

“You feeling any better this morning?”

Micah scoffed like he didn’t know what you were talking about, instead choosing to litter kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“I don’t know whatya talking about sweetheart.”

You turned your head to look at him, that fake innocence he tries to play up to avoid emotional topics.

“Oh common now Micah— I know what goes on in that head of yours, I can only hope that dancing cheered you up.”

His forehead came to rest against yours as you noticed his arms instinctively get a little tighter around you.

“Don’t think it was the dancing that made me happy sweetheart— that’s all you.”

His accent was thick with that southern drawl that he has, not in the way that he was being sly, but in a way that you knew he was being raw and open with you no matter how many pet names he threw in there to cover how soft he is with you.

You turned in his arms, wrapping your own around his shoulders as you gave him a large and genuine smile with a hint of your cheekiness.

“Aw you flatter me Mr.Bell and to think you were gonna let Arthur have that dance!”

You make a dramatic gesture with your hand over you mouth to emphasise how sarcastic the statement was. Micah brought you in for a kiss that the two of you couldn’t stop laughing through but it bubbled away as the kiss depended and your tongue met his.

“Arthur ain’t ever getting his hands on ya darling— I’m the only one that’s gonna take ya dancing.”

Micah gave you a playful wink as you pulled him back in for another heated kiss by the collar of his unbuttoned shirt.

“Mr.Bell if you have nothing better than to do than distract those hard at work I suggest you go and make yourself useful!”

Both you and Micah pulled away, both of you shocked as Ms Grimshaw stood in front of you with crossed arms and a very angry look on her face. Behind her was Pearson who was rubbing his neck awkwardly, obviously running off to find Susan who could handle the two of you.

You had to muffle a laugh as Micah mumbled under his breath all too loud about Grimshaw being an ‘old hag who’s just jealous’ before he got up from leaning against the bench to face you properly.

“Don’t you be working too hard now sweetheart—“

Micah pulled you back in by the waist for another kiss which you happily returned. Out of the corner of your eye you see Grimshaw roll her eyes and poor Pearson who looks like he’d rather spontaneously combust then stand there for another moment.

When Micah pulled back he slowly backed way from the wagon, holding his hands up in fake surrender to Ms. Grimshaw.

“Alright alright, I’ll get out of your hair— got a coach coming in anyway, real work.”

You saw Micah saddle up Baylock and ride his way out of town, giving you one final wink and a smirk. You knew he didn’t really have a robbery planned, he always told you about it first and most of the time you went with him. This time he was merely getting out of camp chores and you rolled your eyes at the image of him waiting around at the saloon for hours until Grimshaw finally forgot about it.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of work either! The two of you cause enough trouble without you getting all lovely around camp!”

There Ms.Grimshaw goes with another lecture, you have no doubts that she was watching the two of you last night and couldn’t help the smile that came to your face at the new cherish memory you now have with the man you love. In reality, you couldn’t care who didn’t like the public affection or your entire relationship with Micah.

All you knew is that it made the two of you happy and seeing Micah smile was worth every single lecture and glaring gaze from your fellow members.

And with that you turned back to the vegetables, picking up the knife and getting on with the rest of the day.

“Yes Ms.Grimshaw”

[little-lemon-lattes]

The Scheme

🌛Zelda Spellman x fem! reader

—Word count: 1.9k

— Triggers: Mention of murder and burning in a non-violent context

— Summary: We have part 2 to The Set Up! You and Zelda spend a blissful day together since kissing the night before, and make the most of being together before the mortuary fills with life- and typical Spellman scheming- again!

You were on Cloud-fucking-9.

The previous evening, you and Zelda had kissed. It had been truly extraordinary, even better than the few times you had allowed your mind to indulge in that kind of imagery concerning her. You had never felt that good with anyone before; well, minding that you had neither felt for anyone like that of which you had been trying to cover for the astonishing woman.

She currently lay in the grass next to you, cheek resting tentatively on your belly, as you both just watched each other in comfortable silence. Gosh, kissing Zelda had felt SO good that it had been hard to stop at just one. Like now. Her stunningly bright and beautiful green eyes were boring into yours, but you really couldn’t tell if she was trying to send you a signal or was just unwittingly that gorgeous on the daily. Probably the latter. You also had to remind yourself that, EVEN though you two already lived under the same roof, you would take things one step at a time together. The last 24 hours with Zelda had been like a dream, and the Spellman mortuary had a new air to it now that you knew where you stood.

That morning, you had woken just before dawn (which was much earlier than you preferred), likely still on a high from the feel of Zelda’s lips. Rather than lay there attempting to force yourself back to sleep, you rose from your pillow. Perhaps it was your always-lingering insecurity pulling some strings, but it suddenly seemed desperately important to you- then and there at 4:56am- that you find a way of proving to Zelda that she hadn’t made the wrong choice opening up to you the night before. Just one more bonus of Hilda’s disappearance that weekend being that the kitchen was inevitably free, within a few minutes you had decided to make a spot of breakfast to share. You would never admit it out loud, but you were also buzzing to showcase your culinary ability; of which had been somewhat hindered by the unspoken acknowledgement that Hilda was the kitchen witch of the house.

With that, you were out of bed and clothed in a black turtleneck and mom jeans, as you put the finishing touches on a French braid: all by 5:15. THe next two hours flew by as you whipped up black coffee, almond cake, black sausage, eggs, salmon, bagels, mushroom, and tomato. You were just laying out bloody-fleshed plums and yoghurt when you heard gentle footsteps on the landing above you. Smiling softly, you stopped to admire as the woman padded down the stairs, wrapped in a silky black robe and wiping bits of sleep from her eyes. She stopped dead as she spotted the food on the table, hand still raised to her eye.

“Surprise...?” you peeped.

Zelda’s hand flopped to her side as she tilted her head adorably, treating you to a giddy smile. And you were hopeless to try not to smile right back. That there was enough to have made the last two hours worth it. “

“What’s all this, y/n?”

“I, uh... breakfast?”

Zelda couldn’t help smiling a little more at the cute way you had made it seem like a question. “I see that,” she laughed, “but why?”

You forced an expression of mock pain onto your face.

“I am hurt, Spellman, hurt! Does there have to be a reason?”

All she did was raise her eyebrows in disbelief. You supposed it was probably best to build any chance you had together on honesty.

“Okay, FINE. I just... wanted to show you that last night wasn’t a mistake, in case you were having any doubts.”

Zelda trotted, cat-like, down from her post against the railing, and came to rest just half a metre in front of you.

“Why, there was absolutely nothing of the sort. I hardly slept a wink all night; your lips have something of a memorable feel to them, if I am honest.”

And this time, it was her that closed the space between you, snaking her arms around your waist to pull you closer. One long peck later, the bubblegum-pink shade of your cheeks matched hers in perfect unison, as if in competition.

Breakfast was sweet and long, spent thigh to thigh next to each other, chatting about all the things you had been too afraid to ask each other until that point.

The rest of the day was passed laying next to one another in the winter sunshine, beneath an age-old willow tree. After what felt like just minutes since you had arrived (but had really been hours), you pointed to the sky with the hand that wasn’t clasping Zelda’s.

“Look, the sun!”

You received a lazy “hmmm” in response. Twisting to face her on your left, you couldn’t fight your sigh of content. The High Priestess was laying with her eyes closed in utter bliss, the final rays of Sunday’s sunshine dancing across those glorious lashes.

“It’s setting, Zelda. Everyone will be back soon.” you murmured to her. It was as if you had thrown a bucket of ice over her. Cloud 9 disappeared with the snapping open of her eyes. The soft expression that had occupied her visage all day visibly hardened into her more familiar, stoic one. She leapt to her feet, snatching up the open novel beside her and swinging out her hand to you with force. Time and Space closed in around you the moment you took it, and, the next thing you knew, the two of you were outside the mortuary once more.

You turned to her sharply.

“What was that about?” you demanded. Standing silent for a moment, Zelda’s ears visibly pricked. After a few more moments, she seemed appeased, and swivelled to you. Her shoulders were tense, and you took note of her fingernails digging into her palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I just... I am enthused about where you and I are headed, y/n, and I’m terrified that others may not share my enthusiasm. I want to enjoy things as they are at present for a while longer, before having to think about who needs to be involved in our business.”

It was understandable, you supposed, and admittedly: there was a certain appeal to keeping things 007-style, like that fantastic mortal film. You relaxed a bit, and instantly felt awful for raising your voice at her.

You reached for the woman’s shoulder.

“You’re right, Zelds. I understand.”

She looked unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You have every right to want to murder me right now, if you so wished. Although, only if you were to bury me in the Cain pit...” she added as an afterthought.

You had to giggle at that one.

“You’re safe for now, Zelda,” you teased, “now, come on! I need to find a good hiding spot for scaring the BANSHEES out of them when they get back!”

Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose literally stomped their feet in sheer disappointment when they arrived back at the house and hadn’t caught the pair of you locked in some form of intimate embrace.

“Aw man! What will I tell my friends?! I had Roz totally excited about y/n finally getting some action... Like, she seriously admitted that she had this big crush on her when she first met her; whiiiiich definitely earned a few looks from Harvey, to say the least. The take-away from it all is that we now know exactly how fragile that guy’s ego is, YIKES, is all I can say.”

All the while, Ambrose was muttering a consistent string of “fuck”s under his breath, and Hilda was deciding whether to scald Sabrina’s ass to Hades and back.

“Sabrina!” her aunt admonished in disbelief, “how could you be so careless?! If any of this gets back to your aunt Zelda, we should consider ourselves excommunicated from her presence for good!”  

All of them fought a cringe. Sabrina looked a bit sheepish.

Hilda turned to Ambrose.

“And what about you, mister? What’s with the constant profanities?”

Ambrose took a step back from his aunt, nobody was sure whether consciously or not. “Erm...hm. Yes. Well. I-” his sputtering was resembling a car trying to start up. Ambrose’s eyes suddenly seemed unable to reach past the witches’ knees.

  “-um. Damn. Hecate, yes, I have... just lost a particularly large sum of money to one Dorian Gray.”

Hilda’s eyes were ready to pop out of her head.   “I was so unequivocally certain that our plan would work! Now where I am supposed to come up with $1000?!”

He was a little manic. The only one of the three who seemed somewhat happy about Ambrose’s situation was Sabrina, sticking a finger at him. “HA! Now that makes what I did so much better!”

Her plum-coloured lips parted with glee, and without warning, her and her travel bag had disappeared. Ambrose made a furious mental note to pour formaldehyde in her evening tea for leaving him here alone. When he had finally built up the courage to look his otherwise cheery aunt in the eyes again, a flash of fear struck him at the murderous look in hers. A low growl exited her throat.

“Well,” she snapped, “I suppose there will be no more silly little attempts on our part to play Cupid.”

As quickly as it had started, her anger dissipated, and was replaced by a certain sadness. Her mouth raised just a fraction, into a tired little smile.

“ ’just thought that Zelds could do with something nice for once. We failed. It didn’t work.”

With that, she picked up her carpet bag and shuffled off up the stairs. Ambrose watched her go, now a lone silhouette in the entrance of their home.

Or so he thought. You waited until Ambrose had moodily trudged down to the embalming room before emerging from your spot in the broom closet. Sniffling a little from all the dust- those things hadn’t been flown for years, SO old fashioned- you felt a mix of emotion at what you had just heard. You hadn’t intended on becoming an audience to some type of scheme, and especially not one of which involved you.

At first, there was embarrassment. You hadn’t realised that your feelings were apparently so obvious! Paired with the fact that Zelda’s must have been too in order to warrant such a matchmaking scheme; along with that you had truly thought that you had done a superb job at keeping it all under wraps, you were left feeling a bit stupid. But then came the funny side of it all, imagining Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina sneaking about like the Pink Panther and holding secret meetings about your love life. And finally came the warmth, the realisation of exactly how much the Spellmans had grown to care for you- so much that they trusted you to love Zelda as much as they did.

The whole situation was entirely too much of an opportunity to just leave alone. Grinning with total delight and schemes cooking of your own, you rematerialised in Zelda’s study at the Academy. The loud CRACK that accompanied that particular piece of magic made the woman flinch. Her brow crinkled at the sight of you in front of her great oaken desk. She was a little taken aback, and (it delighted you even more) flustered to see you there.

“Y/n?”

“Zelda. I NEED to tell you what I just heard!”

A game was now afoot.

And your opponents weren’t finished yet either.

[fanartfunart]

Fly Away

Episode 6: Riposte

Ao3 - First - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

(Féline Sombre & Paon Lilas designs)

Summery: An AU where Adrien never went to in-person school, not getting the cat miraculous, and found the peacock miraculous. - Marinette and Sabrina try out for D’Argencourt’s fencing academy, and a mysterious person challenges Adrien for a spot in the academy.

-

“You've been reviewing the fencing rules all weekend, it's going to be great!” Tiki exclaimed cheerfully. Marinette smiled and nodded.

“Oh! Marinette!” Sabrina waved cheerily, holding her fencing helmet under her arm. Tiki squeaked and hid in a fencing helmet as the other teen ran up to Marinette. 

“Hi? Sabrina?” Marinette said slowly, looking around the room, “...Is Chloé here?”

They nodded, “Yep! She’s going to be watching!”

Marinette grimaced. Great, now she had to worry about Chloé judging her too. She shook her head, “I… didn’t know you were interested in fencing?”

“I thought it’d go well with my self defense training. It should be fun too! For lots of reasons! Chloé and I roleplay as superheroes sometimes... Well, actually, Chloé’s always Ladybug-” Marinette made a face, but Sabrina didn’t comment on it, “and I used to play the villains. But now that Paon Lilas showed up, I finally have a superhero to play as! …. Anyway, while I researched the sport, I noticed much of his combat style is informed by fencing-” she shifted into a fencing stance, making a few combat poses (which did in fact, remind Marinette of Paon Lilas), “You can tell by the way he moves.”

“You roleplay as… Paon Lilas? Why?” Marinette frowned, crossing her arms, “What about Féline Sombre? They’re cool.”

Sabrina straightened their posture, smiling almost nervously, “...You think Féline Sombre’s cool?” she shook her head, “I, uh, do too... but... I uh- I... Paon Lilas matches my color scheme! Blue and purple!”

Marinette sighed, “Of course… Well, good luck Sabrina-” She grabbed a fencing helmet, and dropped it on her head. Marinette yelped, stumbling back, noticing something inside the helmet. Tiki stared at her from inside with wide eyes. After the initial shock, the kwami had to cover her mouth to contain her giggle.

“...You okay Marinette?” Sabrina asked.

She gave Tiki a glance and took the helmet back off to allow Tiki to subtly hide in a better spot. “Yep. Yep, don’t mind me, just- thought a loose hair was a spider for a second…” she pointedly brushed some of her hair away from her face and grinned awkwardly. She ran from the room to get in place with the rest of the prospective students.

-

“I am the fencing master, Mr. D'Argencourt. Instead of the estimated one open spot, we have two, due to an… unexpected drop out…. The coward,”  Mr. D’Argencourt said, flourishing his saber, “So, in order to select the best possible candidates, I will observe the beginners performing a number of attacks on the experienced students,” he gestured to the group of the current students, “Get into position!” 

Marinette squeaked as one of the students walked towards her, “Actually, maybe I’m not cut out for this…” 

“If you’re worried about why Landon dropped out, it’s because of the akuma attacks, not because of the classes. He and his mom are moving out of Paris,” the fencer explained. 

“Oh thank goodness- Oh well, I mean, not for Landon because that must be hard- I- It’s just- I mean, the akumas certainly aren’t great- ” Marinette sputtered. She sighed, and offered her hand, “I’m Marinette.”

The fencer raised his helmet. Adrien smiled, “I know. It’s nice to see you here.”

“Wh-” Marinette’s brows furrowed, “Wait, weren’t you sick? Why are you doing sports?”

He blushed a little and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ve been feeling better since last week. And, uh, skipping class… wasn’t an option. Don’t worry, I talked to Mr. D’Argencourt beforehand. If I ever raise both of my hands in surrender, it’s because I got dizzy or something, and we’ll stop. He’ll get you rotated with a different partner.”

Marinette nodded firmly, “As long as you’re being safe.”

“Get into position!” D’Argencourt commanded. 

Adrien smiled at her and dropped his helmet back over his face. With a quick instruction on her form, Adrien stepped back into his side of the strip, waiting for Marinette to get a hang of what she was doing. They fenced for a while as Adrien explained how saber fencing worked. Eventually, he regretfully had to request a time out.

Marinette pushed her helmet up, “You feeling okay?”

He nodded, pushing his own up, taking in a deep breath of the unrestricted air, “Just winded, I’m gonna get some water and I’ll be good to go for another bout.” 

When Adrien returned, the class was bunched together. He easily spotted Chloé in the crowd (being the only person not in fencing gear) and walked next to her. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, Adrikins!” Chloé hugged him, and really, he’d rather not have had the air squeezed out of him at the moment, but resigned himself to it anyway. “This kid in red showed up and says they’re the best fencer everywhere they’ve been- but don’t worry, they’re obviously not as good as you.” 

He raised a brow but said nothing. 

“All right!” D’Argencourt exclaimed to the newcomer, “I may consider your admission, shall you defeat one of my students.”

The fencer in red strode forward, “Which one of you is the best combatant?” the fencer demanded. The crowd parted, and Adrien found himself alone in the center. He glanced towards Marinette, who gave him an awkward thumbs up.

D’Argencourt gestured to the primary fencing strip, “Adrien, please give our visitor a lesson in chivalry.”

He halfway suspected D’Argencourt had entirely forgotten he wasn’t at his best, but, if everyone thought he was the best here, who was he to disappoint? He nodded, “Yes sir.”

-

Chloé could care less about fencing. It’s all sweaty and involves clashing and clanging metal together. But, it's her Adrien's sport, and Sabrina seemed to think it was fun too. Least she could do was watch in support. With Marinette’s incessant questions and the answers other students were giving, Chloé could somewhat follow the bout. Really, who did this random red rouge think they were? Trying to take her Adrikin’s place as the best fencer in the Academy? 

“Uhhh… Abstention!”  D’Argencourt called. The fencers returned to their starting line.

Adrien pulled his helmet up to breathe, and looked up at the fencer in red, brows furrowed in determination. He dropped the helmet back over his face. 

“Tired yet?” The fencer taunted.

“Just getting started,” Adrien called back, straightening his stance.

“... Shall I request we do this the old fashioned way then?” they turned to D’Argencourt, “We'll be much more at ease without the machine.”

D’Argencourt considered it, “Adrien?”

He smiled behind his helmet, “Fine with me.”

Chloé focused on each move and clash and blow. Freed of their attachments, the fencers moved with agility and panache. Jumping, spinning, clashing. Some boring person muttered “Aren’t they supposed to stay on the strip?” The fencers raced up the stairwell and Chloé made her way to the front to watch them closely. Chloé didn’t pay much attention to the fact that Marinette was the only other person who had kept up with the fight. Nor did she pay attention to the fact that Sabrina had been clearing her path among the crowd before.

The fencer would lunge, Adrien would parry. Adrien feinted a step and pulled back, drawing them in, and the fencer would leap out of the way of his counterattack. Blades clashed and clamored. Adrien knocked the fencer through the doors of the Library. Marinette stood in front of the opened doors as the pair fought, watching intently.

“Out of my way,” Chloé huffed, shoving Marinette to take her spot in watching the pair fight. She yelped as a book cart was sent her way and she narrowly jumped out of the way, “Hey!”

Neither fencers paid any attention. (Which, ouch, really? Is she not important enough here?) 

“Let’s finish this!” the red-clad fencer announced, and they both lunged. Chloé blinked and both sabers were being pulled away from the other fencer’s chest. 

The fencers turned to look at Chloé. “Who got the first hit?!” The figure in red  demanded, “Who?”

Adrien pulled off his helmet and rubbed the spot he’d been hit, grimacing slightly.

“Er…” Chloé frowned and the group finally caught up to them, whispering curiosities. “Adrien?” 

“Wait, you’re not even one of my students….” D’Argencourt noted, “Are you sure?”

Chloé huffed, tilting her head up, "Of course! And I'm sure my father, the Mayor, would love to explain to you why I’m right~” she side stepped closer and lowered her voice, “You already lost the election to him, do you really wanna lose your job as well?"

Adrien frowned. “Actually, I think they touched me first,” Adrien said, turning to D’Argencourt.

“Er- Referee has the last word!” D’Argencourt exclaimed, “This victory is… certainly an honor to the D’Argencourt Academy!” He chuckled nervously as Chloé grinned.

Adrien frowned and watched as the fencer walked away and thrust their saber into the ground. “I’m going to offer them a decisive match,” he said, and raced after them. 

“Hey! Adriekins, why are you following them? You won!” Chloé sighed and followed him, rolling her eyes. 

Adrien pulled the fencer’s sword from the ground and ran towards the fencer’s car. “Wait! Your saber!” 

Chloé raced down the entrance, “Come on Adrikins, you won, what’s this...” she halted as she looked up. The red clad fencer removed their helmet and…well she was unfairly pretty. Dark hair and dark eyes and a dusting of freckles like stardust on her cheeks... “About…”

Adrien continued forward anyway, “Let’s do a, er, decisive match?” Adrien offered, smiling.

“Like she said-” The fencer said, gesturing to Chloé, “You won. There’s no such thing as second chances in my family. Goodbye.” She turned and got into the car. 

“Hey! What’s your…” The car door slammed and the car drove off. “...name.” He frowned and glanced down at the red saber. 

Chloé shook him. “Who was that? I must know immediately.”

He sighed, watching the car retreat into the distance. “Well… I saw her ring, it reminded me of something... Give me a second-” He grabbed his phone and looked up the imagery of the ring.

-

“Oh curse the passage of time,” D’Argencourt grumbled, “We will finish the last rounds of candidate selection next Thursday. Er, you four-” He pointed at Marinette, Sabrina, and two other students, “You’re in for the last rounds. Everyone else, farewell, no need to return,” he waved the group of prospective students away and the group dispersed. 

Sabrina was suddenly next to Marinette. Marinette yelped as she noticed the other teen so close. “You’re in the last bracket! That’s awesome!”

Marinette raised a brow, “Uh… Thank you. Congrats to you too.” 

They smiled, “Yeah! I’m super excited!” she bounced in place, “I can’t wait to master the blade.” 

Somewhere outside, Chloé screamed.

Sabrina gasped, “Chloé! I’ve gotta check on her!” Sabrina ran off, brow furrowed in determination. 

Marinette frowned and ran off in another direction, finding somewhere to transform. Chloé’s screams usually meant akumas.

-

“Adrien!” Chloé cried out as the akumatized villain pointed their sword at him. Adrien was on the ground, holding the red handled saber against Riposete’s sword.

“I’m taking you up on your offer for a decisive match!” Riposte exclaimed.

Adrien strained against the sword. He gave up and rolled out from under her. “I can’t fight you like this!”

“Fight!” she demanded with another slash. Féline Sombre tumbled in and knocked the sword away with her staff. 

“Hey now, play nice,” Féline said, shifting to get in front of Adrien. 

“I’m not playing,” Riposte said, “I will show you all just who the greater swordsman is!” 

Adrien groaned and scrambled to a stand, moving through a blur of dots in his vision, only to run into someone. Strong hands balanced him. “Careful,” Ladybug said.

“She’s after my Adrikins!” Chloé explained to Ladybug, hiding behind a pillar, “You need to protect him!”

“I can protect my-” his body decided this was a perfect time to betray him. He stumbled and coughed. ...Probably too much exertion today.

Riposte knocked Féline Sombre back, and rushed towards Adrien and Ladybug. Ladybug wrapped her yoyo around Riposete’s sword and yanked. Riposete’s arm was pulled away from Adrien, but the yoyo slipped off.

“It’s fused to her hand?” Ladybug exclaimed.

Féline Sombre got back up and vaulted towards Adrien and Ladybug. 

“I guess you can’t dis-arm her!" Féline Sombre chuckled awkwardly. 

"Puns? Seriously?" Ladybug shook her head, “Féline, get Adrien somewhere safe, I'll keep her occupied.” 

"Can do Bug, come on Adrien," Féline grabbed him around the waist and he yelped as they extended their staff into the air and the ground twirled away from him without his input.

Riposte growled under her breath and sliced a pillar and kicked it towards Ladybug. She stumbled back and lassoed the pillar before it could fall into her. Riposte was already bounding off after Féline Sombre. Ladybug sighed and hooked her yoyo on a nearby chimney to follow after.

"I really need somebody who's better at distraction than I am."

-

Féline Sombre landed on a bridge, gently dropping Adrien. She looked around, "Okay, okay, we're probably far enough to pause and make a plan of action. If she's looking to fight you then hiding might be your best bet, but that could become dangerous if she finds you and you're somewhere you can't escape-"

"No, hiding is great!" Adrien grinned awkwardly, already stepping away. He glanced around for places to transform. "I can do that! I'll just-"

Riposte landed just a few feet away from them before Adrien could run away. "Stand and fight, you coward!"

"I’m not going to fight you like this!” Adrien protested, “You're not yourself! What's the honor in this?"

Riposte lunged forward and he ducked, rolling out of the way. Féline Sombre twirled on their staff and kicked Riposte away. 

Riposte growled and slashed the lampposts. Féline Sombre’s eyes widened as the old metal lamps crashed and caged her against the edge of the bridge. They strained against the metal, “Adrien look out!”

Riposte immediately turned to him. She advanced quickly and he scrambled back, automatically shifting into a fencing form, red handled blade in hand. Riposte slashed at his feet, forcing him to leap up onto the edge of the bridge. 

Féline Sombre called for their cataclysm. Riposte prepared to strike at him. Féline wouldn’t be able to interfere fast enough. He knew it. 

-

“If you really are Paon Lilas, transform, Adrien,” Hawkmoth muttered under his breath, brows furrowed in concern. Because if he didn’t, what did that mean? His son was in danger and he put him there. Does he have to hope for yet another failure? Is it a failure if his son is safe? He practically growled under his breath, pushing such things out of his mind. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

-

Adrien closed his eyes. He jumped. Riposte’s sword crashed on brick. Wind whipped around him. He held his breath and splashed into the water below. 

It was cold. His lungs were already protesting. He opened his eyes and spotted a red figure dive in after him. Ladybug’s arm wrapped around him, securing him as she pulled him up and secured her yoyo to land. He hacked on coughs as soon as they breached the water.

Ladybug dropped him on the ground and he groaned.

"You're kinda reckless, aren't you?" Ladybug noted with some sort of half smile on her face.

His lungs hated him. He wheezed with a cough, "I trusted Féline Sombre not to leave me."

Ladybug frowned at him briefly. She glanced towards the bridge as Riposte looked down at the waters below. Féline Sombre gave Ladybug the quickest of a wave, and she ran out of sight, presumably to detransform.

"Come on," Ladybug said. She picked him up (really these superheroes have got to stop doing that, it's making his vision blur) and bounded away.

"What about Féline Sombre?" Adrien exclaimed, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on Ladybug’s shoulders to keep the dizziness from overwhelming him.

"They'll be back, we need you somewhere safe before Riposte figures out you're not in the water." Ladybug landed and gently put him on the ground. He looked around, finding she had brought them to a park. 

He coughed more, shaking from the wind-whipped, damp, cold settling in his bones. Ladybug frowned at him again strangely. 

"How are you doing? ...You seem ill."

He forced a smile, "Just the after effects of my little dive I think. I'll be fine."

Her expression changed strangely yet again and she nodded, “Okay…” she looked around and nodded to herself, “here,” she grabbed Adrien’s hand and tugged him towards a statue, “Hide behind here. I’ll uh, come get you when we deakumatize Riposte.” 

Adrien nodded and watched as Ladybug dashed to the edges of the park, activating the phone in her yoyo. “Duusu,” he whispered, “we should help them-”

“You’re sick,” Duusu said, coming up and pushing against his cheek, “I’m sure Ladybug and Féline Sombre can handle it from here, right?”

Adrien frowned, glancing back towards where Ladybug was talking to Féline Sombre on the phone. “Maybe…” he muttered, “but it’s also the easiest way to get Adrien out of the way while still doing something, right?”

“You’re not in the way,” Duusu whispered.

Adrien grumbled anxiously, watching from behind the statue.

-

“She’s coming your way, bye Bug!” Féline Sombre exclaimed as they ended the call.

“Bye Kitty,” Ladybug searched for the silvery akuma with a frown. “Hm, better safe than sorry- Lucky Charm!” Ladybug called. The charm produced a metal wireframe chair. She tilted her head. “A...chair. Am I supposed to sit around for Riposte to come attack Adrien?”

Riposte dove in, sword aimed, and Ladybug yelped as she tumbled out of the way. 

“Where did you hide him?” Riposte demanded, flourishing her weapon. 

“You think I’d tell you?” Ladybug scoffed, briefly glancing to where Féline Sombre was inching forward. Hidden. Waiting for an opening. “This is just between us. Unless you’re scared to test your mettle against me?”

Riposte huffed, turning her full attention to Ladybug, “Oh? I’ll defeat you swiftly and then I’ll take your miraculous!” Riposte lunged and Ladybug twirled to block with the chair, gasping as she noticed the sword slip between the backrest supports. Riposte was too fast however, and the sword slipped back out before she could do anything about it. 

Féline Sombre vaulted in on her staff and kicked Riposte from behind, into the park fence. They shifted into a fencing stance, staff aimed like a sword, “You wanted some fencing, right?”

“Who told you all these puns?” Ladybug frowned, glancing at her redheaded partner.

“Would you be mad if I said all the puns is because I’m kinda missing Paon Lilas’s jokes?”

Ladybug made a face, “What? No, but-”

“Your face says otherwise!” Féline Sombre exclaimed, chuckling.

“Oh hush!” Riposte exclaimed as she lunged towards Féline. Féline Sombre used her staff to block the sword and shifted to get behind her.

“So Bug, what’s our plan?” Féline asked, extending her staff to hit Riposte again. They twirled out of the way of the counterattack.

“The sword!” Ladybug said, “That’s got to be where the akuma is. But she’s too fast!”

Adrien frowned, “I- I can’t just watch. Duusu-” he was caught off by a cough.

Riposte huffed and leaped out from the middle of Ladybug and Féline Sombre, skidding backwards. She turned her head to the sound of a cough. “Of course,” she sent a slash through the statue.

Ladybug gasped, “Adrien!”

Adrien dropped to the ground, then leaped up over the broken base of the statue. He tightened his grip on the fencing sword, frowning towards Riposte. “You want a fight? Fine. Let’s fight.”

Riposte grinned, “Finally.” She lunged and he doubled back, towards Ladybug and Féline Sombre.

Ladybug looked between the fighters and Féline Sombre and ran forward to meet them, smiling. “Féline, I’m gonna need your ribbon soon.” Adrien continued to retreat and block.

The cat hero tilted their head briefly but pulled the ribbon off. Féline Sombre moved in around Riposte’s other side. 

With the heroes in the right positions, Adrien drew in another attack from Riposte and called, “Ready?!” He twirled, switching positions with Ladybug. Féline Sombre came around with the ribbon and secured the sword into the metal bars of the chair’s backrest. They ran and tugged backwards to keep it secure as Riposte struggled in the snare.

“Prêt, Allez!” Adrien and Ladybug announced as they both used their combined weight to snap the sword trapped in the chair’s back.

Ladybug grabbed the back of the chair as Adrien fell into the seat, keep him from falling with the chair. Adrien blinked, “Huh, handy.”

Ladybug smiled at him as she grabbed his arms and pulled him up to a stand.

He looked up and down at her and barely flickered a smile at her. He turned towards Riposte with a frown.

“Wow, impressive fencing,” Féline said.

He shrugged, “I’ve been in fencing since I was really young.” 

Ladybug caught and purified the butterfly. “Bye bye little butterfly...” She grabbed the Lucky Charm, frowning towards Adrien, “You didn’t have to do that. You put yourself in danger.”

“What happened?” Kagami muttered, looking up in confusion.

Adrien frowned and glanced down at the ground before shaking his head, ignoring Ladybug in favor of the fencer. Ladybug sighed and called for her miracle cure.

He leaned down to the fencer and offered a hand. “You were akumatized,” he said softly, “It’s… a… whole thing. It’s fine now though.”

Ladybug walked over to Féline Sombre. They high-fived and smiled at each other.

“Hey, Adrien,” Ladybug said, “...take care of yourself…” she smiled, and waved as her miraculous beeped, “Bug out!” 

Féline Sombre waved goodbye to Ladybug and turned towards the two civilians, “Do either of you need a lift home?”

“I have a chauffeur,” Kagami said.

“Same,” Adrien chuckled awkwardly.

Féline shrugged, “Alright! In that case, I should probably head out too. See you later!” She vaulted away and Adrien turned back to Kagami.

“So…” Adrien muttered.

“Listen I-” she sighed and glanced at the ground.

“I’m sorry” both teens said. 

Adrien laughed and offered the saber, “Here’s your saber back… Maybe, uh, we could do a proper rematch?”

She shook her head, pushing it back towards him. “No, I lost. Keep it.”

“Chloé really doesn’t know anything about fencing. I personally think it was your point. Besides… red’s not really my color.”

“She certainly acted like she knew.”

“She can be… enthusiastic, she just… she means well, just goes about things wrong.” Adrien sighed and shrugged, “but I… I think- If you want, we could uh, be friends?”

She looked almost shocked, “You… You want to be my friend?”

“Of course! I- Here, let’s start over-” Adrien huffed a smile and offered his hand, “My name’s Adrien. What’s yours?”

She paused, glancing between his face and his hand. She took the offered hand and shook it. “Kagami.”

“Nice to meet you, Kagami.”

“...Yeah. Nice to meet you too, er, Adrien,” she smirked, “You better get ready for that decisive match.”

He laughed, “Oh, I will.”

-

Fencing swords clashed. One fencer lunged, and the other spun and hit. The buzzer sounded.

“Point!” D’Argencourt called, “Sabrina Raincomprix, welcome to the academy!”

Sabrina pulled up her mask and smiled at Marinette as she disconnected herself from the buzzer cord. Marinette raised her mask up with a sigh. They saluted with their sword and Marinette did the same.

“Good game,” Marinette muttered with a sigh, preparing for whatever mocking she would receive.

“You did awesome! It was a close game, you almost had me there."

Marinette raised a brow. "Uh. Thanks?"

Sabrina sighed, "It's really too bad there's only two spots, I was looking forward to sparring more with you. Next time there's an open spot you should definitely try again."

"I… you really think so? Chloé would've hated seeing me outside class on a weekly basis."

"I- I’m not Chloé’s clone, I... don’t hate you. I’m...sorry if I’ve ever made it seem like that," they sighed, and offered a hand, "Seriously. Good game, Marinette."

She smiled awkwardly and accepted the handshake. "Same to you, Sabrina."

Marinette walked into the equipment room and Tiki zipped out.

"You did great, even if you didn't get in. You can always practice on your own or get Adrien to help again!" Tiki cheered.

Marinette sighed and nodded, "True. ...I think that fencer- Kagami? and Sabrina wanted it more anyway. I wouldn't change a thing… and… Sabrina was weirdly nice."

"Without Chloé around she seems much more open."

"Yeah, I guess. ...Actually- huh. I guess they've never exactly been outright antagonistic… I guess I just… associate her with Chloé that much…" Marinette shook her head, "Weird."

[curls-cat]

the house creaks a lullaby

For @grimmtober day 2: haunted house. Also on AO3 and ff.net under the same name, as per usual. Not linking so people can, y’know, see it. Sabrina/Red established relationship.

When Baba Yaga leaves the chicken house to Red in her will, everyone is surprised. Surprised, first off, that the crone has disappeared (not died, Daphne assures them. Just gone off somewhere). And surprised, again, that she had a will at all, that she didn’t just take all her stuff with her. And surprised, lastly, that she’d leave the place to Red, of all people.

Even Red was surprised.

“I didn’t know you two even knew each other,” Sabrina says. She tries hard not to make it sound accusatory. Just because they’re A Thing doesn’t mean they need to tell each other everything.

“She’s been trying to help me deal with the Wolf,” Red says.

And that makes sense. It makes sense that Red wouldn’t tell Sabrina, too. They don’t talk about the Wolf a lot. Red doesn’t like it, any more than Sabrina likes talking about the way her parents lied to her for a decade. They both have people that have hurt them. They’re both learning how to live with those people. And it’s still hard, even though they’re adults now.

Sabrina doesn’t ask how that went. If Red wants her to know, she’ll tell her. If she doesn’t want her to know, Sabrina can live with the worry. What she does say is, “So are you going to move in?”

Red shrugs. “I might as well. It’s weird, now that Granny’s gone. The house doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina says. She gets it. When she comes home from college, she tries not to stay overnight. Red comes to her more often than not.

“Do you want to help me move in?” Red asks, and she sounds kind of hesitant. “I thought maybe…” She doesn’t finish the thought.

Sabrina thinks she knows where it’s going, though. They’ve been seeing each other for nearly five years, now. Red has a drawer of stuff in Sabrina’s dorm, and a toothbrush. Her hair product is in a little caddy. Sabrina’s roommate has Red’s phone number. If Red has her own place…

Well.

Sabrina and Red are, in a lot of ways, a package deal these days.

*

“I swear this place is haunted,” Sabrina says. She’s brandishing a mop like a club, having just jumped nearly a foot in the air when a bookshelf full of jars of slimy Somethings fell over.

They’ve been trying to clean out the chicken house for about a week now, and it’s as bad as Sabrina had anticipated. Baba Yaga lived in freaking filth. The bathroom is buried in so much grime Sabrina can barely see where the sink ends and the wall starts, and the food in the fridge probably predates refrigeration in general.

“I don’t think ghosts are real,” Red says, but she doesn’t sound as sure as she did a week ago.

“Oh, they definitely are,” Sabrina says. “I’ve been possessed. It sucked.”

“You’ve been what?” Red demands, whipping around to stare her girlfriend in the face. She slips and falls into the slimy things, and hisses. She’s cut herself on one of the broken jars.

Sabrina heads for the first aid kit. It’s not the first time they’ve needed it. “It wasn’t that big a deal,” she says as she rips open an alcohol swap and reaches for Red’s arm. “When we went to the city, back the first year I lived in town? When Puck needed healing.”

Red nods. “Daphne told me about it,” she says. They can talk about Puck without it being weird for either of them, now. It probably helps that he’s not around a lot.

“Well, Oberon got murdered while we were there, and we were following all these stupid leads to find out who killed him.” As Sabrina talks, she wipes off Red’s cut. She needs to use more than one. Red’s arm has some sort of green jelly on it. “One of ‘em was Scrooge, and he did some sort of spiritual conduit, and it turns out I’m sort of a natural medium or something. Ghosts can possess me easier than other people.”

“Great,” Red says, and she sounds grumpy. “One more thing to watch out for.” Red has made it her personal mission to protect Sabrina from all the things in the world that want to take advantage of her. It makes Sabrina’s heart melt every time she does it, even though she’s tried to point out that she can take care of herself. There’s only so many times you can hear ‘but you shouldn’t have to’ in response to that before it makes you want to cry, it turns out.

“I think we should be a little more concerned about you getting some weird disease from this gunk,” Sabrina says. “I’ve been possessed a grand total of once in twenty-one years. Which is probably less time than whatever this stuff is has been fermenting.”

“I’ll be fine,” Red says dismissively. She swipes up some of the gunk and gives it a sniff. “I think it’s calendula, actually.”

“What?”

“For bruising. An old cure. My mother used to use it.” Red’s voice only barely breaks on the word ‘mother.’

Sabrina squeezes Red’s forearm, a sign of solidarity. She covers the cut in gauze, then wraps it with tape a few times. “Come on,” she says at last. “Get out of this mess so I can clean it up.”

*

Cleaning out the house takes a long time. They can’t do it all themselves, either, because Sabrina can’t touch the magic items. They still sing to her, even all these years later, a dangerous call for a power she doesn’t even want, really, much as it draws her in. And Red is always afraid of what’s going to interact with the already dangerous concoction of Wolf-and-girl-and-witchcraft inside her. So anything that calls Sabrina’s name is picked up with a very long stick and thrown into a bag for Daphne to pick over. She’ll be ecstatic, when they finally hand it to her.

In the meantime, they clean, and things keep falling over. It’s kind of helpful, actually. Nothing falls over that they wanted to keep, and aside from the times they trip and fall into the mess, there are no injuries.

“I think it might be a helpful ghost,” Red says, when a pile of rotting newspapers just happens to topple out the window. She leans against her broom thoughtfully.

“Maybe it’s the house itself,” Sabrina suggests. It weirds her out, but she’s getting better about that sort of thing. Magic isn’t the problem, she keeps reminding herself. It’s people, and how they use it. Look at Red. Someone this kind can’t be wrong, just because she’s got something powerful inside her.

“Would make sense,” Red agrees. “It is alive, after all.”

They’re keeping the house in the front yard of the house that used to be Granny’s, for now. At the end of the night, they’ll walk it as close to the nearby dump as they can get it without being seen, to lug out the day’s trash.

“Whatever it is,” Sabrina says, looking around askance, “I hope it can’t actually, y’know, see us.”

“Why?” Red asks.

“Because,” Sabrina says, and she reaches out and grabs Red by the waist, reels her in. “I’d like to know I can have some time alone with you.”

“Hm,” Red says, turning a smile on Sabrina, leaning in for a kiss. “I think I’d like that.”

*

Nothing falls over, and when they emerge from the bedroom much later, both streaked with way more dust than when they started and clothes askew, the house seems no different.

“So we can get alone time,” Red says brightly, looking around . “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina agrees.

“It’s especially great,” Red says, winding her fingers through Sabrina’s, “because I was wondering if you’d like to move in with me. Once you graduate.”

Sabrina knew this was coming. The question still melts her. She looks around the living room, the room they’ve been cleaning out together. The room they picked a paint color for together, too. The room whose floors Sabrina scrubbed and whose furniture Red has discussed picking up from goodwill. A place they’re rebuilding together. It already feels like it’s not just Red’s home, it’s theirs.

“Yeah,” she says, leaning in to give Red another kiss. “Yes. I’d love to live with you.”

[cassava-49]

Wedding Bells

This was it, she walks down the isle in her white wedding dress. Her veil was passed down from generation to generation, something old, her blue bracelet stood out, something blue, her hairpiece in a form of a white rose from her best friend, something borrowed and her white wedged heels, something new. She walked with grace and confidence as she searched for her groom. When her eyes landed in him she stared in shock. WHY THE HELL WAS FELIX IN ADRIEN'S PLACE!

Marinette remained in shock for a few minutes as her head pounded to the beat of her heart. It was a rather annoying beat. Wait, it was her alarm clock. Marinette then shot out of bed, surprising the red kwami. "Marinette, are you alright?" Tikki asked in a concerned tone. "I-I'm fine Tikki. Just a weird dream, no nightmare," she replied. Tikki then giggled and told her to get ready. "Tikki," Marinette called. "Yes?" she replied. "Is it possible to still have a crush on someone you haven't seen in years?" she asked. Tikki smiled and replied, "Well, your first love never dies, that's one thing." Marinette smiled and headed down stairs for breakfast. Felix Agreste, the name had haunted her ever since he left.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," a five-year-old Moroccan boy said between giggles. "No, no way. I did not agree to this," a five-year-old blond said as he tried to escape the grasp of the Vietnamese descent. "Come on, it's only a game," a four-year-old raven haired girl said. "No! No," he protested. "Fine, so you'd rather marry Mireille and get a beating from Theo?"

a red haired five-year-old boy said. "Fine," he huffed as he approached the girl. He took both hands and they both leaned in and shared a quick kiss. This earned squeals from the on lookers. They then separated with blushing expressions without facing each other. They then began the wedding rituals, eating cake, (cupcakes actually), dancing and gift opening (all the gifts were goodbye gifts for the groom). "Felix, it's almost time to go," a blonde woman said from afar. "I'm coming mom," he shouted back. "Well then, goodbye everyone," he said as he made his way towards his mother. "Wait," called a voice. She then gave him a kiss on his cheek to which it were dusted with a pink blush. "Don't forget us," she said. He then smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead and replied, "Never ever. I promise Marinette."

Marinette was already seated in class when she was relieved from her daydream. "Wow girl, you're early today," Alya teased as she sat down next to her. "Morning Alya," she replied. The two them slowly emersed themselves into conversation. "Hey dudettes. Wow Mari you're early," Nino joined. "Hey babe," Alya greeted. "By the way, did you hear, a new student's transferring," Nino said. "Really, who?" Marinette asked. "Well," Nino said hesitantly. "It's you know. Your husband," he says with a smirk. This caused her to combust leaving a confused Alya. "Wait, who?" she asked with urgency. "You'll find out. Good luck Mari," Nino said as Adrien entered the room. "Morning girls, Nino" he says greeting him with a fist bump. "Hey sunshine, do you know who the new transferee is?" Alya asked. "Yeah, actually he's—" he says but was cut off when Ms. Bustier entered the room with another student with her.

Marinette felt like hiding under her desk when she saw him. "Good morning everyone," Ms. Bustier greeted cheerfully. "As you know we have another student in class. He just transferred from UK, I hope you could all get along. Felix would you like to say something," she offered. He nodded and then said, "Good morning everyone. My name is Felix Agreste, cousin of Adrien Agreste. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said flatly. "You can take a seat next to Ivan over there," she instructed. He nodded and made his way to the seat but he was able to give Marinette a small smile causing her to blush again.

Classes seemed to drag along slowly for Marinette. Her traitorous heart kept on beating for the other blond in her life as she felt his eyes on her. When class was finally dismissed for lunch, she stood up from her chair without a moment to delay as she made her way towards the door.

"Not so fast Dupain-Cheng," Chloé said. "Chloé, I don't have time for any snarky remarks from you today," she replied. "Not that, that's for this afternoon. Do you really think you can just walk out of class without welcoming your husband back?" She said in a teasing manner with a smirk. For the rest of the class, the comment was foreign causing them to stop what they were doing, while Nino, Nathanael, Kim and Sabrina burst into a fit of laughter. "Chloé, please stop teasing Marinette or else she'll burst into a puddle of goo like last time," Felix joked as he approached her. Causing the five people, knowing what's happening, to laugh again. Marinette then approached Felix and playfully punched his arm. "I thought you were in my side," she said. "I hate you," she grumbled as she then began giving him a 'welcome back' hug. "I missed you too," he replied giving her a quick hug and then peeling her off.

"Wait, what are you all talking about? Husband?" Alya asked with a hint of anger. Nino them slung an arm around her shoulders and said, "Well to those who aren't aware of the situation. Felix is a friend of ours who left ten years ago. But before he left we had an impromptu wedding for Marinette and him since the two were obviously drooling over each other. Plus we love teasing the two relentlessly since their reactions are absolutely priceless. So you could call them childhood sweethearts." The rest still had their mouths open, still processing what happened. "Nino!" the two shouted in unison.

"Why didn't tell me that you used to know Marinette and Nino?" Adrien asked Felix, coming in-between him and Marinette, as he puts a protective front over her. "You never asked and it was not relevant information," he coolly replied. "Wow, so the two of you are like inseparable aren't you?" Lila joined in. "But wait, if Marinette married Felix, does that mean that she had been cheating on him?" she said. Marinette never felt this much urge to slap her across the face. She could take Chloé saying that, knowing that she only implied it as a joke but from Lila, she knows there's more to it, she can read it in her eyes. "Well, that makes two of us," Felix said as he took her hand, slipping pass a fuming Adrien. Marinette then calmed down and then said, "Wait, what?" He then chuckled and led her out of the room saying, "I believe that this conversation will be better if it were just you and me." This caused Marinette's cheeks take a brilliant shade of red.

Once alone Felix lets go of her hand, to her dismay. The two stood in an awkward silence. "So how was Angleterre?" she asked. "It was nice, but I still missed Paris," he replied. "By the way this is for you," he said taking out a gift from his shoulder bag. She then took it and began unwrapping it. Her heart stopped when she saw the album. She began opening it to give multiple pictures of them and their friends, with different captions. It was the last picture that caught her attention, it was their wedding. She then couldn't control the wave of emotions and hugged him tightly to which he returned it with the same force and emotion. "I missed you so much," Marinette said in between her tears. "I missed you too," he tried as he placed a kiss on her forehead like how he had done 10 years ago.

[rookvonhunt]

Once again I ask for Micah/Winona with the "😈 invite my muse to play with an ouija board with your muse" please :))

[ VILE ] YES YES OF COURSE

Villamania was easily one of the least festive of dorms. Even on holidays like Hallow's eve. Though . . . For such an uneventful place , it had the perfect atmosphere for such a holiday. Hence the reason many others from other dorms would come to visit. With some convincing from Archibald , Micah allowed the various domains of the village to be used as haunted houses. Or mazes. Under the clause that no one was really injured. On purpose , at least. And much to his dismay , many first years took him as a fright of its own , running for the hills as soon as he would appear.

He rubbed his temples. . . What a headache it was. Dealing with so many underclassmen was a big enough responsibility as his title made him the designated Lord of the village. Where. . . First years resided. For the most part.

Micah startled when a hand was placed on his shoulder , too absorbed in his thoughts to have noticed the fact Winona had made her way beside him with her two younger sisters in tow. He stared at her for a moment or two as she chuckled at him , holding up a finger as she rifled through her bag. A box ? Winona smiled at his incredulous look.

"Oh , I suppose you wouldn't know what this old thing is." She noted , dusting off the box to show a logo of sorts. Ouija. Hmph. No.

"Am I meant to?" Micah inquired , ignoring the snorts from Malvina and Sabrina. "It looks like one of those board games Moritz will try to rope the lords and myself into . . . Don't tell me you plan to do that. "

"It isn't a board game you silly man." Winona huffed , hands on her hips. He really was clueless. . . "It's a ouija board. It allows you to speak to the deceased."

Oh. Oh . . His eyes widened slightly , and his left ear twitched. A show of interest on his end. " Is that so . Teach me how it works at once. "

[wondereads]

Personal Recommendation (2/14/20)

The Sisters Grimm by Michael Buckley

I’m doing something new this week! I’ll be reviewing every book in The Sisters Grimm series. Each will get a small paragraph and get a rating out of ten, and then I’ll rate the series overall. Hope you guys enjoy it! Please keep in mind this will contain spoilers for the later books, so don’t read ahead if you don’t want some major spoilers!

#1: The Fairy-Tale Detectives     9/10

The very beginning! Sabrina and Daphne Grimm, after a year in foster care with some dubious caretakers, are being sent to live with their grandmother, who, until a few days ago, they didn’t know existed. Granny Relda lives in Ferryport Landing, a typical small town in almost all aspects except for the significant population of fairytale characters or Everafters. The first book serves as a good introduction to Buckley’s world. The sisters have been shielded from fairytales their entire lives, so it’s easy to insert explanations for the inexperienced reader. It also very quickly sets up Sabrina and Daphne’s characters by using their reaction to Granny Relda and her fairytale reveal. Daphne, being a younger, more sheltered child, accepts it wholeheartedly and is excited to get involved in solving magical mysteries. Sabrina, after protecting her sister from nutcases for a year, has a much more cynical outlook, and it takes an actual giant scooping Relda up for her to believe. There’s also some memorable introductions for other important characters such as Mr. Canis, Puck, Mirror, and Mayor Charming. In terms of the plot, Buckley consistently creates mysteries that have twists but aren’t too difficult to follow for late elementary students.

#2: The Unusual Suspects     7/10

Things are starting to get a little more intense. Sabrina and Daphne are required to go to school after being preoccupied with chasing giants around the countryside. Unfortunately, especially for Sabrina, who wants to regain some semblance of normalcy, something is killing the teachers at school. I forgot how gruesome the murders were. I also forgot that Sabrina is in sixth grade. This particular book always got on my nerves. Sabrina is clearly having some issues; her parents are missing, she’s trapped in a town with fairytale characters, she can’t see to escape humiliation either at the hands of Puck or her classmates, and now people are being killed left and right. And yet, her family refuses to see that she needs help and decides to reprimand her constantly instead. The villain for this book is particularly disturbing. I must warn readers-child manipulation and abuse is a common theme in these books. If you couldn’t already catch on in the first book, it becomes obvious here that Sabrina has some grudges against the magical community.

#3: The Problem Child     7/10

This book has a sort of in-between feeling to me. Sabrina comes upon a maniacal little girl dressed in red who is holding her currently enchanted parents captive. The little girl, obsessed with recreating her family, is convinced they are her own parents and controls a jabberwocky, her ‘kitty’. All she needs is a granny and a doggy-Granny Relda and Mr. Canis. Everything in this book pours into the next ones, while, unlike the other books, there isn’t much of a self-contained plot. Red comes more into play in Tales from the Hood and The Everafter War, the election sets up Magic and Other Misdemeanors, and the vorpal blade and Puck’s injury lead into Once Upon a Crime. This book, however, introduces Uncle Jake, one of the most interesting characters in terms of development, and it also begins the problem of Sabrina’s magic addiction. The events of this book contribute to Sabrina’s distrust of magic after she has some run-ins with her addiction. It is also when you maybe start to develop some affection for Charming, despite his over-inflated ego.

#4: Once Upon a Crime     10/10

This one is my personal favorite. After Puck’s run-in with the jabberwocky, the Grimms take an emergency trip to New York, Sabrina and Daphne’s old home. There they plead the king of Faerie, Oberon, to heal Puck. Unfortunately, Oberon is poisoned within hours of their arrival, and Relda, of course, takes the case. This book is so much fun because in Ferryport Landing they just sprinkle the whole town in forgetful dust. In New York, Everafters need real jobs and a way to cover their tracks as beings who don’t age. The Wizard of Oz works at Macy’s, Ebenezer Scrooge makes a living as a medium, and pirates such as Long John Silver feed off of Wall Street. It also addresses the downsides of that. Everafters don’t age; some of them don’t even look human. It comes as a shock to Sabrina, but her mother, Veronica Grimm, was secretly working with the New York Everafters to fix their problems. I feel that Sabrina finding a connection to her mother through the Everafter community is the first step she takes toward accepting her role as a Grimm.

#5: Magic and Other Misdemeanors     8/10

The conflict between humans and Everafters starts to take center stage. Someone in Ferryport Landing is stealing powerful magical artifacts, causing rips in time, but the Grimms have to split their attention with Mayor Heart’s new tyrannical rule. This is where the series begins to take a darker turn. The new mayor, the Queen of Hearts, and Sheriff Nottingham are set on running every human in Ferryport Landing out of town, and the divides between human and Everafter are becoming more pronounced by the day. The rips in time are particularly interesting, especially Sabrina and Daphne’s trip to the future, which really raises the stakes going forward. Also, the idea of a past Grimm arriving in town, giving Heart and Nottingham a chance to end the entire family, is very nervewracking. Also, the concept of Everafter-human relationships and how that would work presents some interesting conflicts.

#6: Tales from the Hood     10/10

There’s nothing I love more than a fractured fairytale. Intent on getting rid of the Grimms’ staunch protector, Heart and Nottingham put Mr. Canis, or the Big Bad Wolf, on trial. Some investigation in order to clear his name reveals that the story of Little Red Riding Hood might not be all true. Technically, the entire series is based on fairytales, but this is the first book where those stories are actually challenged. The actual story of Little Red Riding Hood is amazing, and it also ties into all the other stories the Wolf is present in. Also, I love Red, the sane Red, and I always get so happy when she’s cured. Once again, Sabrina clashes strongly with her family in this one, for understandable reasons. I’m less inclined to side with her on this one, but she definitely learns her lesson.

#7: The Everafter War     8/10

The Grimms are finally united! Henry and Veronica Grimm are woken up from their magical sleep, but Henry, having too many bad memories, wants to leave town immediately. Unfortunately, the Scarlet Hand has taken over all of Ferryport Landing and only a small resistance stands in their way. There’s a lot of family drama in this one. The dynamics of Sabrina, Daphne, and their parents are all out of whack after spending over a year apart. On one hand, they now have parental support again. On the other, Henry can’t seem to conceptualize that Daphne is, in fact, not five anymore. If that isn’t enough drama for you, Puck finds out he and Sabrina are married in the future, and Snow and Charming are caught up in a soap opera of their own. Also, not to mention the plethora of betrayals in this book. The plot is really picking up here.

#8: The Inside Story     8/10

This one took quite some imagination. After the reveal of the Master’s identity as their own beloved Mirror, Sabrina, Daphne, and Puck pursue him and Pinocchio through the Book of Everafter, a living book filled with fairytales that could actually change history. I find it absolutely hilarious that the kids absolutely refuse to follow the story no matter what. Also, this is where Sabrina starts coming into her own. She’s going through a rough patch in this book. As would anyone whose best friend turned out to be the leader of a magical terrorist organization. By the way, if you are connected to these characters in any way, Mirror’s betrayal will hit you like a punch to the gut. She’s having trouble trusting her judgement, which will have her come back stronger than ever. Also, it’s nice to see her and Puck get through a couple sentences without a barrage of insults. Finally, Relda was such a badass in this book. If you didn’t love her before, you definitely love her now.

#9: The Council of Mirrors     9/10

It’s time for a happily ever after. With Mirror running loose in Ferryport Landing and the rebellion in tatters, things are looking bleak. Especially when the twenty-four remaining magic mirrors issue a prophecy putting everyone’s fate in the hands of Sabrina and Daphne Grimm. Sabrina starts out pretty broken in this book. She’s been betrayed, her grandmother is possessed by an evil mirror, and now everyone is expecting her to lead an army. I absolutely love that when she gets the push she needs from the mirrors it plays to her strengths. She’s a master of planning and subterfuge, and it’s so nice to see it come out. On a less chipper note, I hate Atticus with everything in me, and I was so happy he ended the way he did. In terms of Mirror, I found it poetic, but also so typical of a kid’s book, that he was defeated by the one thing he never had: love. Finally, the reason this book doesn’t get a 10/10 is because I felt the epilogues were kind of rushed and unrealistic. However, they don’t have much impact on the book overall, and I still loved most of it!

Overall 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10

The Sisters Grimm is one of my favorite series from childhood. The characters are realistic, relatable, and get great development. Kids books are great because there’s no worries about the idea being too juvenile. This book could never be an adult book, the ideas in it are too silly. However, that doesn’t mean it isn’t amazing, and I find the crazy ideas and cheesy lessons absolutely charming. It gives some unexpected sides to some well-known characters, and the amount of thought that went into incorporating classic and even more obscure characters into the modern world was crazy and very amusing at times. I also suspect that this series is the root of my fondness for fractured fairytales. I would recommend this book to people who like modern fantasy, sibling relationships, and fairytale characters in a decidedly un-mystical setting.

The Author

Michael Buckley: American, 51 years old, also wrote N.E.R.D.S. and Undertow

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every two weeks, and I take recommendations. Check out my about me post for more!

[ellewritesathing]

Infernal  - VI

Summary: In your sleepy little town of Greendale, nothing ever slept for long. And ever since October, everything felt like it was waking up. Everything except for you, that is. One teensy trip to Hell (and an infuriatingly cute guy) later and suddenly you felt wide awake.

Word-count: 3.7k+

Masterlist Prev. | Part 6

A/N: so i just wanted to thank you guys for the support you’ve given Infernal!! it really makes my day to see you reading and getting feedback is just 💓💓 anyway this is the last part for this series until the next season comes out, but i have a few caliban wips. should i start posting those and tagging you in them?? thanks again and i hope you like this!!

Light streamed through the blinds when you woke up, landing softly on your covers and gently covering Caliban’s face. He’d never looked so calm when he was awake; always putting on a show, whether it was for you and your friends or for the courts of hell. Look at me, his face screamed when he was awake, I don’t care. I am in control.

Now it was silent. Dreamy. 

You reached out a slow hand and moved some blonde curls out his face, letting it rest on his chest when you were done. Smiling to yourself, you thought about how absolutely mundane this morning was. Nothing to do, nowhere to be. You wouldn’t change a thing. 

“I have the strangest sensation of being watched,” Caliban murmured as he stretched out next to you. His arms extended overhead and you watched how Harvey’s too-short hoodie crept up to his elbows. When you looked at his face, it featured a barely contained teasing grin. 

“Well, we’ll have to get that sorted out right away,” you said as Caliban rolled his eyes and propped himself up on an elbow to face you. Your hand moved from his chest to the side of his neck, thumb tracing his jaw. “Tell me, sir, what did the perpetrator look like?” 

“Beautiful.” 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, careful not to crash into you or get too tangled up as your hands rose to the sides of his face. His laugh tickled your face. It made your heart beat a mile a minute. 

You pulled away ever so slightly to look in his eyes. Breath caught in your throat as you asked, “Don’t go back to Hell.” 

Now his face said he was confused, something that he didn’t feel very often. Caliban sighed and rolled back to his side of the bed, slipping through your fingers to stare up at the ceiling with a half-open fist resting on his forehead. 

“I just mean-” you slid closer, getting up to your forearm to face him. You lifted your hand to his chest but your palm hung millimeters above it. Unsure fingers tapped at the air. “For one day, stay here. Sabrina won the challenges, right? So there’s no real rush and I- I could show you what it’s like to be human for a day. And you could-” 

Caliban took his fist off his forehead and wrapped his hand around yours, holding it to his chest as he took a breath. His eyes moved from the ceiling to you. Your heart stopped. “I’m not going outside looking like this.” 

“Deal. There’s a Target like ten minutes away and you can pick out whatever you want,” you said. Before he could argue, you turned and started climbing out of bed. “What do you want for breakfast?” 

Caliban looked at you with equal parts amusement and bewilderment before shaking his head and moving to his feet. “Surprise me.” 

You reached out a hand to lead him to the kitchen, but stood still in front of the door, shoulders tense as you turned to face Caliban. “I should warn you,” you said, looking at the spot between his eyebrows. Apparently, people couldn’t tell you weren’t making eye contact if you looked there. “My dad can be a little … much. Lilith said he has something like the cunning, but I think it’s more like early-onset dementia. He means well, he just- he gets a little confused.” 

Caliban’s jaw clenched as you spoke and you watched him make a conscious effort to relax it. In the most controlled voice you’d heard, he asked, “And does he hurt you when he gets confused?” 

You couldn’t even look at the spot between his eyebrows. Coward. “He doesn’t mean to. He just-” 

“That night you had a bruise on your arm, that was him?” 

“You remember that?” 

There was something fiery in him when you looked at Caliban again, slithering just below the surface. You cupped his face and drew his eyes off the door and back to you. His skin was hot to the touch. 

“He needs help. You can’t hurt him,” you said. He was going to say something biting so you talked over him. “Please, just for today, let it go.” 

Silence. His jaw clenched. 

One. 

If looks could kill, your door would be nothing but a pile of splinters and you would be dust. 

Two. 

“Just for today,” he conceded.

You held up a pinky and all that anger faded into amusement. He even laughed when you picked up his hand and forcibly intertwined his pinky with your own. 

“This means that I get to keep your pinky in a jar if you break your promise,” you said, sounding far too serious for someone making a pinky promise before nine o’clock in the morning. 

“Is that another promise?” Caliban asked, leaning down slightly. 

Still, after everything that had happened, the action made you nervous. In a (probably failed) effort to seem cool and unaffected, you dropped his hand and turned to open the door. As soon as you did, the smell of pancakes hit you in the face like a ton of bricks. Your dad was awake, and he probably wouldn’t remember the past few days. Would that make this easier or harder to explain? 

Too busy thinking to come up with clever and endearing things to tell Caliban about your house as you wandered your way to the kitchen, the two of you walked in silence while you absentmindedly gripped his hand. 

‘Silence’ wasn’t really the best word to describe it because, although neither of you were talking, the house was filled up by your dad’s music. When you got closer, you could even hear him singing along as he flipped pancakes. 

“Dad?” you asked hesitantly as you rounded the corner to the kitchen. The batter sizzled uncertainly as he looked up at you. All of the carefree happiness drained from his face when his eyes landed on Caliban. “Dad, this is-”

“That a monster should be such a natural.” His voice wasn’t quite as venomous as the last time you heard him speak, but it was icy. “Caliban, son of the witch-hag Sycorax. Native son of the-” 

“Dad, no.” You let go of Caliban’s hand to take a step closer, putting one hand on your dad’s and using the other to try and pry the angry spatula from his hand. “Caliban is a friend. He-” 

“O, it is monstrous, monstrous: Methought the billows spoke and told me of it-” Your dad broke eye-contact with Caliban to stare holes in your soul. He whispered to you like a child trapped in a horror movie, “The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder - that deep and dreadful organ-pipe-”

“Dad-” 

“Be not afeard. This isle is full of noises,” Caliban said. His voice was almost as gentle as it was when he showed you how to conjure light, and he walked closer very slowly and carefully. “Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices that, if I then had waked after long sleep-” He held out his hand, palm up, like someone would to frightened animal “-Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming, the clouds methought would open and show riches ready to drop upon me, that when I waked I cried to dream again.”

Your dad blinked once, twice. He looked at you. He looked at Caliban. He looked at Caliban’s hand. 

“Oh, crap, that one’s burnt!” He jumped out of your grip to shut off the stove and scrape out the burnt batter before something caught alight. 

Caliban held onto your shoulders in an effort to comfort you as you stared at your dad. No matter how often it happened, you still couldn’t understand what made him like this. One second he was making pancakes, the next he was cursing you in Elizabethan tongue, and then he was making pancakes again. 

“So let me guess,” your dad said with a wry smile as he turned back to the two of you, pan successfully scraped clean. “Long lost cousin of Sabrina’s-” he pointed the spatula harmlessly at Caliban and continued to the stove “-And you’re working on a … History project? Fell asleep at the desk?” 

“You’ve always been a good guesser,” you said through gritted teeth. 

Your dad laughed as he poured the next lot of batter in the pan. “Chin up, Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. There’s some pancakes over there and the syrup’s in the fridge.” He smiled over your head at Caliban. “Help yourselves.” 

“Thank you,” Caliban said with a thin smile. 

--- 

You sat in the car for five minutes, tinkering with the seat and mirror settings while Caliban sat politely in the passenger seat. Never did you imagine using the words ‘Caliban’ and ‘polite’ in a sentence without the words ‘is not’ sandwiched between them, but a lot of things had changed since then. Sighing, you sank back into your seat and looked over. 

Polite, amused. 

“Okay, you need to put your seatbelt on before we start moving,” you said. Caliban arched an eyebrow at you. “I’m being serious. Belt on or you can stay in Harvey’s old clothes the whole day.”

“Are you that bad of a driver or did you forget that I’m nigh-indestructible?” Caliban asked, making you roll your eyes. 

“Wanna find out exactly how indestructible you are?” you asked, leaning over the armrest and getting distractingly close to him. 

Caliban’s eyes dropped to your mouth. “Do you want to try?” 

“Nope!” 

You yanked the seatbelt forward and kept it with you as you flipped back into your side of the car, clicking it into the socket when you could breathe again. You shot him a grin and he shot you a glare. Oh well.

Switching on the engine, you tried to string together a coherent thought. “So this car is old - older than me, probably older than you - so she’s a little sensitive. She’s also a piece of crap who’s been stuck on the same cassette since I learned to talk,” you told him as you rolled out of the driveway. “The air con’s busted. There’s a spring sticking out of the backseat. Is that a cloud? We can only turn right if it starts raining.” 

Caliban let out a laugh next to you, craning his head to try and spot the cloud. “Why don’t you just get another car?” 

“Because she’s part of the family.” You smacked the dashboard twice. “Aren’t you, Sugar?” 

The speakers started blasting Tiffany’s I Think We’re Alone Now in response and it was the first time you’d ever seen Caliban look truly startled, even if it was just in your peripheral vision. It made you smile the whole way to Target. 

Despite your worries, finding Caliban something to wear was pretty easy, even if you had to coerce him into picking out a jacket. It didn’t take long for something to burst your bubble though: you heard Harvey laughing somewhere nearby. 

“Shit,” you whispered, grabbing Caliban’s arm. You pointed over some shelves to where Harvey and Theo were looking at graphic socks. “Shit. Scatter!” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Scatter! I-” You shoved the clothes into Caliban’s arms. “Go try these on. Don’t come out until I come to find you.” 

“Don’t you think this is a bit of an over-” 

“No!”

You pushed him back towards the changing rooms and got ready to confront Harvey and Theo when Caliban’s hand caught your wrist and pulled you back with him. You didn’t argue until he latched the door. 

“Don’t know how to get dressed by yourself?” you asked in a low voice. 

“If I said yes, would you show me?” Caliban asked, lifting the corners of his mouth. He sighed before lifting Harvey’s old sweatshirt over his head. “I didn’t think you wanted to explain all this to your friends. Hence the - uh, what was the word you used - scattering?” 

You bit your cheek as you weighed your options. Deciding it would be easier to think without looking at Caliban’s chest, you handed him a shirt. You focused on Caliban’s hands as he buttoned up the shirt, long and dainty-looking as he worked his way up the fabric slowly. 

And then there weren’t any buttons left, just Caliban watching you watching him. It made your heart stop. Again. 

“Right, all done?” you asked, moving your things so you could stand up. You became intimately aware of how small these changing rooms were. 

“Unless you want to stay for the pants part?” Caliban asked. 

“I think I’ll take my chances with Harvey and Theo, thanks,” you said and carefully stepped around him to get to the door.

While Caliban was busy, you did some impulse buying and tried to catch your breath. Thankfully, Harvey and Theo seemed to have left. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted; all you wanted was to tell them about Lilith and Caliban but you were scared that they wouldn’t understand. 

When Sabrina finally told you all about her being a witch … to say it didn’t go over well was an understatement. When you finally told them, would it go over any better?

After getting Caliban something to wear and something to eat, you took him to a parking lot of a long-abandoned strip mall. Still debating whether this was a good idea or not, you took a breath and turned in your seat to face him. 

“Don’t make me regret this,” you said carefully, resting your hands on the gearshift. “Do you want to learn to drive?” 

“That depends. Am I going to learn in this car?” 

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the front, the beginning of a biting comment coming out of your mouth before Caliban laughed and leaned over, placing his hands over yours on the ignition. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, stifling the rest of his laughter. “I’d be honored if you’d teach me to drive.” You didn’t say anything. He leaned in closer. “In this car.”

You turned your head to look at him, underestimating just how much he leaned in. Almost nose to nose, you said, “Say please.” 

“Please?” 

“Like you mean it.” 

A smile sparked on his lips. “Would you, please, teach me how to drive?” 

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you said dryly, unlocking the doors and stepping out while Caliban shook his head and did the same. 

Teaching Caliban was just as infuriating as you expected; he sped up when you said he couldn’t, he rode out the clutch, but - worst of all - he didn’t appreciate the background noise of the broken mixtape. Round and round the old parking lot he went, muttering swears and curses all the while. 

“Okay- okay, babe, you need to stop.” You put your hand on the gearshift, over his tight white knuckles. He let out a heated breath as he shut the car off. “You’re sticking the shift from second to third. Sugar’s old, remember? You need to be more gentle.” 

“I’m being plenty gentle.” 

“You’re definitely being plenty something,” you said. He didn’t appreciate the joke. “Take a breath. Let’s try again.” 

Caliban didn’t say anything as he started the car up again, but he did everything you told him when you told him to do it. With your hand guiding him, he didn’t stall for the first time in over an hour and he only swore once (at a pigeon, but in his defense it really was stopped in the middle of nowhere). 

Finally, Caliban parked the car squarely in the middle of four spots and turned to face you, much like you had some time ago but without propping up any legs. “We’ve been doing human things the whole day,” he said. “I’d like to add something to the itinerary.” 

“Oh, would you now?”

“Do you trust me to take you there?” Caliban asked, ignoring your teasing. 

“You mean, like, letting you drive on the road?” you asked. “Where the other people drive?” 

“Unless you’d like to teleport there,” Caliban offered. 

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Okay, you can drive but you have to listen to me exactly like you did just now. Deal?” 

“Deal.” 

Bad music blared over the speakers as Caliban drove, windows down, to his mystery location. You pretended not to notice whenever he damn near stalled the car, he pretended not to notice whenever you messed up the words to the music, and you both pretended not to notice how right it felt to have your hands intertwined. 

It was absolutely mundane. A drive for over-eager teens with nothing better to do. You wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

Caliban turned down a gravelly road that you were sure led to private property, but you didn’t mention it. He seemed very sure of himself in your piece of crap car. Even as he rolled to a stop and the car wheezed its way to sleep, he looked like he was made for this moment. 

“So is the part where you make me dig my own grave?” you asked, moving to face him and lifting your hand from his to the side of his neck. “Because you should know that I’d rather kill myself than do manual labor.” 

Caliban let out a laugh as he mirrored your movements, except his hand lifted to his mouth, thumb running across his lower lip. “No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for a while longer, love.” 

You weren’t entirely sure how to answer that one, so you took a breath and looked down at the gearshift. “So what exactly is the plan?” 

“Swimming,” Caliban answered. He unbuckled his seatbelt before you could ask more questions - of which you had plenty - and got out of the car. 

You had to rush to keep up, slowing your jog once you could grab his hand. “Woah, slow down. Swimming? In a Greendale Lake?” 

“Is that a problem?” 

“Uh, yeah. For starters, it’s January.” 

“I can cast a spell to keep you warm.” 

“You got a spell to protect me from Hep A?” 

Instead of answering, Caliban rolled his eyes and lifted his hand, palm up, in front of you. He nodded to it when you didn’t answer him. “Do you trust me?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked at his hand. Not everything had to be a show of how tough you were, and you got the feeling that Caliban already knew how tough that was. You put your hand in his, trying your best to memorize the changes in his face when you did. 

The two of you walked in silence, joined at the fingertips, until Caliban slowed down at the mouth of a cave and you made a disapproving noise. You held up your other hand when he looked at you, to show that you were trusting and not criticizing. At least not externally.

The cave wasn’t anything like the one you’d found Medusa in, nor was it like any of the ones you and Harvey played around when you were kids. It was smooth and dark, with air far less musty than you expected. Water was running somewhere and Caliban led you to the spot where it ended. A small, pitch dark rock pool. 

Then Caliban let go of your hand and started taking off his brand new shirt.

“Okay, what are you doing now?” you asked. 

“Swimming,” Caliban said without any hesitation. “Do you not remember?” 

“I-” You broke off. He said you were going swimming, did you think he just magically had a swimsuit in your size hiding out in this cave? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not taking off my underwear.” 

“It’s going to an awfully uncomfortable drive home,” Caliban said with a devilish smile as he threw the shirt at you. “But whatever you prefer.” 

You stood awkwardly as he finished undressing and slid into the pool. He was considerate enough to turn around after your first complaint and then you begrudgingly took off your layers. At least it was dark enough in here that he couldn’t see you blush. 

Dipping in your toes, you pulled away with a tiny shriek. “It’s fucking freezing!” 

Caliban laughed as he waded around to look up at you. It was unnerving, though he didn’t mean it to be. “It’s going to be cold for the first few seconds. Diving headfirst is the best way to do it.” 

“Yeah, if what you’re trying to do is get a concussion.” 

“Just get in,” Caliban said slowly, “And it’ll get better after that. I’ll warm you up if it doesn’t.” 

“No way in Hell. And I mean that with a capital H,” you said, refolding your arms over your chest. “The only way I’m getting in there is if you drag me.” 

Caliban’s head tilted to the side for a second before straightening up as he waded closer to you. When he was right in front of you, the water only came up to his naval, but he gestured for you to lower down to him like he was telling you a secret. In a dangerously low voice, he asked, “What was that again?” 

You blinked back your surprise. “Uh, what was what? That I’m only getting in here if you- Don’t you dare!” 

Before you could run away, Caliban had scooped you up and twirled you into the icy water. But you couldn’t focus on the cold when everything that he touched was on fire. And when the screaming and splashing and laughing died down, it was just you and Caliban alone in the dark. Nose to nose. Holding your arms to his chest. Too afraid to breathe and mess up the moment. 

Your heart was trying to break out your ribcage. 

“I think you were right,” you whispered. “Diving in headfirst is the best way to do it.”

Caliban’s heart was slow and steady, but you could swear it skipped a beat right there.

“You’re sure about that?” he said softly. 

“Without a doubt.”

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