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deejadabbles · 5 years ago

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Spells of Defiance (Atem x Reader x Yugi) Chapter 1

One: Atem

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// Five //// Six //// Seven //// [Eight coming soon]

Summary: The Circle of Magicians protects the world from rogue, murderous fey. The police who keep bloodsuckers and flesh-eaters in check. You've hunted vampires for years, earning a reputation as one of the best magicians in that field; but what happens when an encounter with a particular vampire makes your already fragile loyalties split?

Supernatural/Demon Hunter AU. Vampire!Atem x Reader x Incubus!Yugi (yes, a polyamorous relationship). Warnings for cursing, vulgar language, violence, and some sexual themes.

This is a fic I’ve already posted this on my AO3 but I wanted to spread the Yu-gi-oh x Reader love here on tumblr.

A.N: For those of you who are new to this story, I want to mention that I took commonplace supernatural/fey lore and mixed it with my own ideas. I also took some inspiration from the original Yu-gi-oh series, like calling magic users "magicians" instead of witches or sorcerers. Hope you guys enjoy the ride~

Warehouses and abandoned buildings. Why was it always one of the two? Honestly neither were all that abundant in terms of being empty and isolated enough to be a useful hidey hole, but this one had managed to find one worthy of a Batman villain. Boarded up windows, isolated from the brunt of the nearby city, and not queued for any restoration projects. Good. That meant you could let loose without worry for innocent bystanders.

The creature screeched as you threw him to the ground, sputtering and hissing at your feet, but stunned all the same. The ones who trained you to fight these creatures knew what they were doing when they branded your right palm with the magician's enchanted seal. It helped channel your magic and you called up a flame bright, hot, and particularly threatening to the fanged thing before you.

"Let's try that again," you asked evenly, despite the thundering of your heart and heat of adrenaline that a fight always gave you. "I'm going to ask a question about your boss and you're going to answer me. Simple as that."

Apparently recovered from your last attack, your target snapped his head back up at you, fangs bared, hissing, eyes bulging, and body taught for an attack. You were ready when he leaped and you threw your fire spell at his airborne form. The screech of pain didn't surprise you, what did was the fact that the beast endured the pain enough to charge through the flames and closer to you! A reflexive dodge wasn't quite enough this time and you felt the vampire's fangs sink in deep and hot into the flesh of your right wrist.

You stifled the shout of pain as both of you stumbled to the ground, him pinning you down with one hand on your throat, the other on the arm he was clamped to. Another surprise came in the form of white-hot pain searing through the flesh of your hand. That wasn't right. Vampire bites didn't cause such pain. You looked over to see the enchanted seal on your hand pulsating in time with the stabs of agony.

'What the-' Just as quickly as the thought came you shook it from your mind. 'Focus, damn it!'

Though the seal was there to help you channel your magic, it was not completely necessary and you charged another spell into your left hand. Fire crackled on your fist as you drove it into the vampire's temple. It reared back with another hissing wail and a second punch, this time to the gut, caused him to fly back and crash into one of the half-rotted walls.

Pain still throbbed in your right arm as you stood and you chanced a glance at the wound. As expected the fang wounds were healing instantly, the vampire's toxin doing its job. Still, the fact that your magician's seal hurt at all was cause for concern.

No time to think about it now, however. Your eyes snapped back to the vampire. He was poising himself on all fours, a malicious brand of mirth in his eyes as his tongue lapped at the smear of blood on the corner of his mouth.

"Hmm, you taste good, little magician. I gonna enjoy sucking you dry." His voice was like nails dragging across metal, just an add-on to make your skin crawl all the more.

Then he was leaping at you again, but your willingness to play the fighting game was gone with his last attack. Time to end this. He closed in, likely thinking himself victorious, but you pulled your dagger out in a flash. The silver blade slashed across his face, gouging and burning deep. The pain made him fall to your feet and you could actually hear the sizzling of his skin.

"Fire and silver, a blood-sucker's biggest weaknesses. Honestly, it's almost unfair how much advantage I have over you, vampire. Now," you grabbed him by the collar, his twig-like frame making it easy to hoist him up into the air, "unless you want me to start making fancy burn marks on your skin with my silver friend here, you're going to come with me quietly. Then, you're going to tell the Circle of Magicians all you know about Marik."

He struggled against your grip, his strength returning, though all you had to do to make him wilt was hold the flat of the silver blade dangerously close to his face. "If I talk, the Vampire King will kill me! Besides, if he doesn't get to me first, the Circle will kill me anyway! They burn any rogue fey they come across."

"True," you conceded, "they don't take kindly to human killers like you. But, if you came with me, I can promise a quick death." For dramatic effect, you quirked an eyebrow at him, "Will Marik give you the same if I throw you back to him?"

The vamp was sweating now, eyes darting all around, feet weakly kicking in a fit. Then, his posture stiffened, "I have a better idea."

Much like he had with the fire, he took the pain of the silver and kicked you hard in the gut. You dropped him reflexively and he took the chance to run at one of the boarded up windows. What was he- it was three in the afternoon!

"Stop! The sun-"

Too late, he crashed through the wood and into open sunlit air. It didn't take long for the sun to ignite his body in flames. He was just dust by the time you got to the window and looked at the ground below. You cursed under your breath, slamming your fist into the frame of the window. He was your only lead in this case and chose suicide by sunlight over facing Marik's wrath. The Council was not going to be happy about this.

Teleportation spells had never been your forte, but you were desperate to get back to the Sanctuary, take a long scalding shower, and dive into your next possible lead, given that your last had just thrown himself into the sun.

The Sanctuary was the headquarters for the Circle of Magicians. It was a sprawling structure, only two stories high but crossed enough square feet to be considered quite an impressive castle. Well, a human realtor might throw it in that or the mansion category if they even knew about the place. Enchantments assured that no one besides a magician with a palm seal, or a visitor escorted by one could enter the Sanctuary grounds. Why they called it that name was beyond you, the place was a haven for no one, truly.

The other magicians paid you and your bloodied clothes no mind as you walked the halls, knowing that unless you were collapsing on the floor from injuries, there was little cause for worry. Life in the Circle did that to a person. Made one desensitized to blood and gore, or just about everything horrifying really. One does not sling spells and hunt demons for a living without such a particular defense mechanism.

Still, the idea of rinsing off the blood was a heavenly concept. Luckily most of it wasn't your own, but vampire blood had a particular stench to it. You turned the water on hot and had just removed your jacket and shirt when the door to the showers was thrown open. A familiar voice practically shouted your name as a brunette rounded the corner of your stall.

"Mana, what is it, what's wrong?"

"We have to go, now! They got tired of waiting and they moved his hearing up- they're putting him on trial now!"

Ice filled your veins in an instant. "What?!" How could they possibly-

"Hurry! You're the only one interested in proving he's innocent!"

Mana took the liberty of shutting off the shower head as you threw your shirt back on. Somehow, taking off a wet, putrid garment only to put it back on was more uncomfortable than having it on originally, but that was only a passing thought as you bolted out of the door with your fellow magician.

To most, the idea that a member of the Circle was concerned with the innocence of a fey was laughable. The Circle and its members hunted fey who stepped out of line and when one was accused of crossing that line, there was usually evidence enough not to question it. Or so they liked to say.

This time there was evidence, however. The problem was that you were the only one who knew about this particular man's innocence and the Council seemed disinterested with your testimony.

You had been tracking the vampire cult ruled the mysterious Marik for a while and had busted several of the follower's hideouts. They were human killers and were trialed as such, but then, you had found him. He got to the abandoned house before you, already disposed of two cultists and had a third by the throat when you burst in. At first, he had asked you to leave the situation to him, much to your annoyance. Of course, when back up in the form of nearly a dozen vamps showed up to kill their intruders, he was all too happy to accept your help. Honestly, you would have been in bad shape if it wasn't for him watching your back as well.

It was a short battle, but he proved himself worthy of your alliance in those moments- but then your own backup had come. Seeing a vampire covered in blood had been all that the other magicians needed to pin him down and place a binding spell on him, so that he could be carried back to the Sanctuary and put on trial with Marik's followers. Mana was right to say you seemed to be the only one who gave a damn about his innocence.

The doors to the trial hall came into view, but so too did the last person you wanted to see right now. The built blonde was leaning against the wooden doors and he smirked that condescending, almost sickening smirk when he turned his shaded eyes toward your thundering feet.

"Well well, come to watch the show?"

"Out of my way, Keith," you didn't bother hiding the hiss in your tone, wanting every ounce of intimidation you could muster.

His smirk only lengthened. "Aw, are you mad that your pet's being put down? Seriously, why do you give a damn if they put the cross to him? He's a vamp, a pretty old one from what they can tell, too. Probably killed plenty of people in his day."

"He's innocent, the Council needs to hear what she has to say!" Mana pipped up, actually daring to step between you and Keith to glare up at the man. For such a small girl, she could glare like a champ.

"The Council don't give a damn. We found him at the cult house, he's a vampire, pretty obvious he's following Marik."

You let out a growl and started to push past the blonde, "I don't have time for this, out of my way!"

Even if you hadn't hated Keith to the bone since you trained together as kids, you still would have acted on instinct when he grabbed hold of your arm. Fire was called to the seal on your palm and you turned into the force he pulled you back with; using the momentum to ram the heel of your hand into his gut. The contact was brief, but your fire spell had enough to work with and his jacket quickly caught fire. He'd survive, but the profanity-ridden distraction was enough for you to push open the doors to the trial room.

They gave a resounding crash from the force you used, effectively drawing everyone's attention as you entered and threw the doors shut behind you. The Council was a gray-haired, wrinkled lot, who all donned the same robes as they sat on their chairs, raised high on a platform so that the one on trial felt small beneath them. Of course, even with the trouble he was in, you doubted this vampire ever felt small beneath anyone.

And oh had they tried.

Not only was he bound by the usual enchanted chains, but a binding circle glowed on the floor around him, something that was usually reserved for the most dangerous fey. You were surprised that he could move at all, but he still turned his head at your arrival and locked eyes with you. Even under threat of death, Atem's eyes looked so calm.

You couldn't get lost in those eyes now and you gave yourself a mental shake before you could. That's when you noticed a third precaution the Council had taken to keep Atem in line. A muzzle of all things. The fact that he had yet to fight back against any of his magician captors meant nothing apparently.

"What do you think you're doing?!" shouted one of the council mages.

You met his glare head-on, approaching the center of the room to stand beside Atem as you spoke. "I'm here to give my testimony to the Council. I stand by my initial report that the one on trial is innocent."

Silence for just a second, then some whispers, and finally: "Yes yes, we know what your report said. However, since you have yet to bring us a live member of Marik's cult to confirm that this man is not also a member, we must take action."

"Hold a moment," drawled a third voice, looking at you with a somehow lazy interest. "Wasn't she just on a mission to capture a solo agent of the cult? Were you successful in capturing it?"

Shame boiled up from your gut. The feeling was not unfamiliar, however, the feeling not being a result of the Council's disappointment was. You didn't care about your failure in their eyes. No, you were ashamed because you had failed the vampire beside you.

"No. When I apprehended him, he committed suicide by sunlight rather than betray his master."

The second who had spoken clicked her tongue. "I see. And do you have any other proof, besides your word, that the vampire is innocent?"

Again shame reared inside your chest. You could feel Atem's eyes looking at you out of their corners. Would you see disappointment there if you glanced back? Instead, you kept your eyes locked on the magicians before you.

"No. But my word should be enough. What reason would I have to lie?"

The one with lazy interest shrugged, "You would not be the first magician to cover for a criminal fey."

"But he isn't a criminal!" You tempered the volume of your voice in an instant, knowing that yelling would not make them hear your plea any better. To show composure, you took in a deep breath. "Our duty is to protect everyone from rogue, murderous fey. That protection doesn't end at humans, we're supposed to protect other fey as well. Force a truth potion down my throat to prove I'm not lying if you want. The vampire known as Atem is innocent."

The Council fell to whispering between one another again and in that reprieve, you noticed Atem shift beside you. Finally, you looked at him again, just a slight turn of your head. The muzzle prevented him from speaking, but he didn't need words, his eyes said all they needed to. The potent emotion behind them actually caught you off guard. Damn, you had only known him a few days but somehow, his eyes had this strange effect on you. Feelings that were foreign to you stirred and you clenched your jaw as if that would keep them at bay. He seemed so...thankful. You just hoped it was enough.

A councilman spoke your name and the two of you turned your attention back to them. "We have taken your testimony under great consideration. However, the other vampire we caught the day Atem was apprehended gave his own testimony. He insists that this vampire is also a follower of Marik's cult. We must be thorough in our purging of this threat. The vampire on trial will be executed in forty hours."

"No!"

Your exclamation was lost as the councilman clapped his hands and a boom echoed out from them like thunder; their version of a gavel. One by one the members rose from their seats and Atem was suddenly tugging at his chains.

"Best not fight, vampire," said another councilwoman, her tone cold as she waved her hand, casting a spell.

The marks on the chains glowed and Atem could only give a closed-mouthed shout of pain as he was brought to his knees. The light of the binding circle around him rose, making a transparent cocoon to further encage him.

No, no! This was cruel. This was wrong! They didn't give a damn about justice!

"Stop! You don't have to hurt him!"

The one who was so disinterested during the trial still sounded quite bored as he said, "Remove her, please, before she does something else foolish."

You had barely even registered the magicians who had been standing guard by the door, but now they closed in on you. You couldn't strike them like you had Keith, especially not with your superiors right there. They dragged you out with minimal force, but you could still hear Atem's struggles as they closed the doors behind you.

You had never been placed in security details, your gift for fire spells usually landed you on hunting missions for vampires and other fey weak to the element. Still, you knew the prison wing of the Sanctuary well, and it was not unusual to see you there. You used that to your advantage, leaning up against the wall by the door that led to the wing, waiting for the late shift to start. This time period would ensure the most privacy, the least likely for anyone to overhear what you had to say to Atem.

Finally, you heard footsteps and you knew the inspection crew was done making their daily rounds in the cells. Still wary that they might bar you from entering the wing, you took a step back, hoping to go less noticed by the group. The doors opened and the crew stepped out, barely taking notice to you as they continued down the hall, likely on their way to get something to eat. Only one gave you more than a passing glance.

Mahad was head of security at the Sanctuary and, though fair, was one of the more likely magicians to shoo you away, knowing exactly why you were there. He paused in his steps for a second, his blue eyes locking firm on your own. Then, he only sighed and gave you a very pointed look that conveyed a very firm order of: 'don't do anything you'll regret', before he continued on his way as well.

Even if you had planned some rule breaking plot, you knew there was little chance of executing it now. If his guards found Atem's cell empty, he would waste no time in telling the Council who he saw. He was a fair, good man, but ultimately a follower of the Circle's law.

The mark on your right hand allowed you to enter the prison wing without question after you pressed it to the flat surface where a handle would normally be on the door. The cells had a low occupant rate, like usual, but they had still shoved Atem deep within the prison; isolated even from the few other prisoners. The hallway was dark and you couldn't see Atem even as the silver-coated bars of his cell came into view.

He must have smelled your scent on their air, however, because even though he stood in the center of the cell, his back turned to the bars, he addressed you the moment you reached them. "You shouldn't have come."

"It's not against regulations for me to visit the cells."

Atem sighed before finally turning towards you. "I don't want you to get into any more trouble because of me."

You only shrugged. "I just...I needed to see you after all that. I'm pissed that they made a show out of your trial. We only take precautions like that with high-level fey and you've shown no violent tendencies since they arrested you. A muzzle for god sakes!"

The scarlet eyed vampire managed a smirk before his eyes glanced over your new, clean clothes. "You made quite the entrance. Fierce and bloodstained. You looked like Sekhmet incarnate."

His tone said that he was saying the last bit to himself, almost absentmindedly, but you found your curiosity piqued. "Sekhmet, that's the Egyptian goddess of war, right?"

Atem nodded. "In a way. She is a warrior goddess, but, also the goddess of healing. Strength and gentleness intertwined perfectly."

Something in his eyes said that the hearing was not the first time the comparison of you to a goddess came to his mind. Again, unfamiliar feelings bubbled up and you swallowed hard, throwing a very firm lock on the sensation. Still, him speaking of ancient gods of the sands said a lot. Hunt vampires long enough and you get pretty good at telling whether one was turned in the last few decades, centuries, or even farther back. Everything about Atem spoke of an old world neglected by time. His skin, though pale from centuries or more of having to avoid the sun, seemed to have once had a richer complexion. His clothes, though not unusual to the modern eye, had a timelessness to them. Plain cotton shirt, dark pants, and metal jewelry that looked forged by rough hands instead of a factory's machine. Had he possibly come from the time of Sekhmet and pharaohs?

"Thank you."

His words brought you out of your musings, and you had to blink a few times to realize what he'd said. "Why are you thanking me? Nothing I did seemed to make a difference."

Instead of a smirk, he actually gave you a smile, a soft, genuine smile. He stepped closer to the bars, close enough to stay just out of reach of the silver's burning effect. "Still. You did not give up on helping me. If I'm honest, I would have never suspected anyone in the Circle would care for a vampire at all. Yet, here you are, defying your leaders and putting your reputation on the line, for me. A creature you've been taught to kill first and ask questions of later."

And there it was. What most fey thought of your kind. Magicians were the worst of police, the kind who kept peace by any means necessary and told the very people they clenched their fists around that it was for their own good. You had been born into that life, spending your whole youth under the Circle and training to serve them. Even with either constant teachings that magicians did what they had to in order to keep the peace, you saw their prejudices and their cruelty for what it really was. Did you really deserve a thank you for being slightly less brutal than that?

"The Council is wrong," you whispered and if it weren't for the stone silence of the prison wing, he might not have even heard you.

"That may be, but you've done all you can, and I thank you for that."

Lies. There was more you could do and...and that defeated, resolute tone of his last words made your next decision firm. There was more you could do. You had thought about it every moment since the end of his sentencing. It was the only way and it didn't even seem that hard of a choice. You weren't going to let them kill Atem.

You almost acted on the thought now, but caught yourself quickly. You had to be patient. You had over a day to plan, and there were more opportune times than now to execute said plan. Besides, you figured that if you brought it up now, Atem would just deny your help and stubbornly stay in his cell. Await death rather than risk your safety like some damn chivalrous knight. Maybe when he spent all whole night in the cell as a condemned man, he'd be more willing to let you help him escape.

Again you were brought out of your musings when Atem called your name.

"May I ask one more favor of you?" he asked with some small hesitance. "There is someone very important to me, he is likely already frantic that he hasn't heard from me these past few days. Tomorrow, could you go to him and tell him what happened? Tell him how sorry I am that I let myself get caught up in this- that I let my need for revenge bring me here." Heavy emotion had marred his speech and Atem had to draw in a breath to steady himself. "I just want him to know that I didn't abandon him... And how sorry I am."

"What's his name?" you asked, the gentleness in your voice surprising even yourself.

"Yugi. He owns a magic shop in Domino. He is...very special to me. What I regret the most about all of this, is not being able to see him again."

You chose your reply carefully, you didn't want him to catch on to the plan brewing in your mind yet. You couldn't let him know how determined you were to make sure he saw this person again. Not yet.

"Don't worry, Atem. Yugi will know exactly how you feel." You needed another topic, so he couldn't analyze your words too much. Your eyes scanned the small cell and finally took notice to something odd. "They didn't give you any blood to drink?"

"No. I was assuming they would wait until hours before my execution to feed me. A last meal of sorts."

"Idiots. If they starve you too long you'll go into a blood-rage and they'll actually need that magic muzzle."

You had seen enough vampires in blood-rages over the years. It was a gory affair that should be avoided at all costs. Even a vampire as peaceful as Atem would turn into little more than a rabid animal when starved; the bloodlust overriding any sense of humanity.

Not only was that something to be avoided, but he would be weak as a sick child by tomorrow.

The bars of the cell were wide enough for you to get your hand through, so, you pushed back the left sleeve of your shirt. He must not have suspected you to offer, because shock flashed in his eyes when you slipped your hand passed the bars and bore your wrist to him.

"Here," you had to clear your throat, the words having come out as little more than a whisper for some reason. "You need to eat, take some of my blood."

Shocked turned into something hard and almost pained as he took your hand and pushed it back towards the silver bars. "No. You've done more than enough for me as it is, I won't take your blood too." He flinched in pain as the silver burned him, his fangs flashing in reaction.

"It's alright, Atem." You pressed closer to the bars, pushing him back out of the silver's reach, but did not withdraw your hand from his grip. "I need you at full strength and it's not as if I don't know what I'm doing. I trust you, I know you won't take too much. Besides," a playful grin lifted your lips as you waved your right palm at him, the seal there visible even in the dim light, "it isn't like I'm helpless to stop you."

Honestly, all you really needed to do if your blood tasted too good, was jerk him hard enough to slam him against the bars and he'd let go of you on reflex from the burning if nothing else. You decided to keep that thought to yourself though.

Those eyes of his burned into yours, a silent way of asking if you were absolutely sure. When you answered back with unwavering certainty in your own gaze, his shoulders finally relaxed just a bit and he closed his eyes with a sigh.

He turned your hand so the inside of your wrist faced him and he lifted it slowly, as if giving you even more time to change your mind before the skin met his mouth. You took in a slow breath as his lips parted, revealing long, thin fangs just a second before they bit down. The slight sting was nothing, quickly being replaced with the curative lacing his fangs that numbed any piercing sensation, as well as the feeling of blood passing through the wound.

Even if vampire bites did hurt longer than that split second, Atem had a special kind of gentleness about him. He held your arm in a firm grip so that the instinct to pull away would not tear the punctures any larger, and you blushed when you realized that his thumb was running soothing circles along your forearm just below the bite.

You knew that some vampires survived by making pacts with humans or other fey, offering some kind of service in exchange for letting them drink small amounts of said partner's blood to survive. You had assumed Atem was one who chose animal blood over a human or fey host, but the way he handled you with such care made you reconsider that assumption.

Finally, cold air hit your wrist as he pulled back. Though, even more heat rose in your cheeks when you felt his tongue dart out to collect any blood that spilled before his curative healed the wound. The hand that had run so gently over your arm moved to cover the place he bit, though there wasn't even a scar or sign of wound at all now. When he looked up at you, the hands cupped over yours tightened just a bit.

"Your face is flushed- do you feel alright?"

In his worry, Atem tried to step closer to you, but the bars ensured his distance. You were quick to alleviate the guilt and shame taking his features.

"I'm fine, Atem. Not even light-headed." You paused a moment, making sure he didn't need any more reassurance, then asked, "Think it'll be enough to get you through the night?"

"Yes, more than enough." His mouth opened to say something else, but he must have thought better of it, because instead he only said, "Thank you. Now please, go get something to eat, it will prevent any fatigue or dizziness."

You actually scoffed at that, "I know how to handle blood loss, Atem." Indeed, the aftermath of a particularly nasty fight with a murderous werewolf came flooding back to you.

"Still, I've kept you down here too long. Get some rest and...again, thank you."

#atem x reader #yugi x reader #yami x reader #yugi mutou #Atem #yami yugi #poly relationship #poly reader insert #atem x reader x yugi #yugi x reader x yami #series: spells of defiance

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royal-writer · 7 years ago

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dnd au short

And remember kids: do not write things when tired and zoning in and out of what you’re writing becuz it turns out like this. Bad.

plz keep me away from yuan-ti lore/backstory it inspires shit

It was the desert heat broiling their skin that made everyone so grumpy. Truthfully Essatha preferred this heat; the waves of sun felt like they were sinking through her skin and into her bone. It was funny to watch how the various skin tones reacted however; some were sunburned with welts, some acted fine, some darkened a bit like herself.

At the very least, they weren't going to die from lack of thirst. With Cackle's ability to create water, and careful rationing as hot days turned to cold nights, they survived. Even the pickiest of eaters of them had to eventually succumb to eating the lizards and birds of prey they could manage.

It was a brutal journey, but much faster than what they would have endured going around the desert to their next destination.

The lizard on the stick proved as bland and tasteless as the last one Essie had eaten. It was more like jerky; overcooked and tough. She dared to pass a smile to the latest cook for their mid-day snack in what little shade they could find by some tangled growth.

No one said a word. Dried cracked lips, parched tongues. They passed around any cantins on them filled with water to try quenching a thirst despite the gallons of sweat that seemed to leave their bodies faster than they could replenish at times.

Bags were repacked and into the desert they wandered once more.

Upon the horizon, there glimmered the heat waves baking the cracked and sandy earth. Sometimes Essie could swear she could see images but she said nothing of it. They were illusions of course. Sometimes she thought she could see the outline of buildings and sometimes trees, even a silhouette of someone wandering just as crazy as they among the dunes and crags.

But no amount of walking turned up any of these to be true. And no one else spoke a word.

Passing a bluff of blissfully shady jagged rocky outcrops, Essatha could swear she could see something moving over top from side to side. She'd pass a glance to the others; feet dragging a bit, eyes dry, dirt on their faces. They didn't seem to notice. She could swear Penimra and Adela glanced a few times themselves too towards the cliffside, but the idea of voicing her concerns seem paranoid.

Crumbling rocks fell from overhead. Slowly, some of them looked up.

"You think there might be big game up there?" Ravamora piped up in a raspy voice. "Maybe a goat?"

"A goat?" Abernathy snorted. "Unlikely. Though it could be a camel, or some wild dog or coyote."

Sulhadur, silent until the remaining pebbles hit the ground or landed upon the team, brushed his shoulders lightly. "Whatever it is, we should leave it be. Big game or not, we shouldn't carry any more weight than we already do or it'll slow our progress."

"A fair point," Adela agreed, exhaling into a small coughing fit.

"Onward!" Cackle cawed with insistence, startling Ilamin and Penimra who were closest to her.

Swallowing on the dry feeling in her throat, Essatha turned to glance over her shoulder as the others began to move forward. She could feel a prickly sensation on the back of her neck like someone was watching her.

Making some haste, she quickly went to rejoin the others, purposefully placing herself further into the middle to help ease her paranoia. After a while, the feeling seemed to subside until she forgot about it altogether.

As the sun fell to slumber and the moon arose, they set up camp for the evening. This time they got the delicacy of a couple hares to eat. Essie felt disgustingly tempted by the hot blood dripping from their hides as they were cleaned before being spitted, but thankfully Cackle provided the next round of water and they all allowed themselves a privilege of drinking a bit more than usual.

The stars were brilliant above. Shining clusters and the half-moon gleaming down. They spoke not frequently but words passed and exchanged with good cheer and fatigue. As the moon traversed the sky, they headed into their tents for the night.

Eyes unseen and silent, watching in the night.

Up came the sun into a new day. There was less shade to be had, and they made less strive because of it, but they managed to survive.

The moon arose.

The sun returned.

Over the next few days, the paranoia would return and falter over and over again. It was consuming. Looking over her shoulder, Essie would see nothing but desert and figures in the waves baking the ground. Uncertainty colored her.

But no one else seemed to notice. It had to be nothing.

Weary and tired, the troop took refugee wandering through an elaborate path splitting between two short cliffsides. Some mused aloud if this had once been a merchants safe path, or a criminal's, or perhaps the remains of a river bed but with little proof without digging what may be underfoot, there was no way of knowing.

"That's not true," Penimra snobbily stated. "We could tell by smoothed rocks, as water would have eroded any."

"Finally, he says something intelligent," Abernathy huffed, cuffing the high-elf lightly on the shoulder.

Between the conversation, Essatha rolled her eyes and dragged out a wheezy sigh. She loved these fools, she did, but sometimes they found the oddest things to bicker over. They were all going mad from the heat, probably.

Her boot scuffed up some dirt as she shuffled along, falling into the back of the line as they skirted around a bend. The buzz of the words from those ahead like flies in her ears. Slightly bothersome, but not enough for her to really do anything about it.

The eerie sensation of being watched made her feel an itch. She went to glance behind her, seeing nothing as she paused.

"Oh drat, it opens up again. Prepare for more glaring sun."

"Speak for yourself, it was claustrophobic back there. I can handle the heat."

Frowning, the Yuan-ti turned to follow the others. Nothing once again. She was losing it.

Rocks from the cliffside broke away to lightly fall around her as Essatha stepped forward to go rejoin the others.

She could swear she'd heard a blade unsheathing but it was too late to investigate.

The blade hit her in the shoulder as she went to turn the corner.

With a strangled gasp, she stepped forward and pressed herself against the rock face. One hand went to her shoulder, wincing as she grabbed the hilt of the blade and yanked.

"Essatha?"

Her head jerked towards the sound of someone calling her name, and another knife whizzed by her, striking the rock beside her face.

"Holy shit!" Cackle cried out in alarm.

Startled and having no back-up, no armor, no way of knowing what in the hell just attacked her, she ran in the direction of the others as they moved in her direction. Another blade flung past Essatha as someone dropped from the cliffside, knocked aside by Sulhadur's shield before it could hit anyone else.

The figure, cloaked in a loose white robe, darted forward with longsword in hand. He took a wild swing and missed by inches. As he moved to swing again, Abernathy and Sulhadur had already ate up the distance between themselves and the intruder as Essatha slid past them.

The dragonborn brought up his shield as the half-elven orc swung overhead. The figure was too fast; quick on his feet as he moved back out of range. With alarming skill and swiftness, they looked up and jumped, grabbing the cliffside to haul themself and swing over the armored duo.

Metal on metal slammed with a clammer of noise and sparks as the next fighter stepped forward. The figure grunted, and perried to swing Penimra's sword aside as their blades danced against each other. They swiped at Penimra once more so that he fell back, moving to leap over the high-elf just as Sulhadur and Abernathy turned to swing their weapons in his direction.

Bows drawn, Adela, Ravamora and Essatha fired. The later struck the stranger in the side, the former glancing their hood and tearing it from their face to reveal a human-looking face beneath, and the first connecting with their arm.

Giving a convincing battle cry, Cackle swung her mace as the man approached; missing by the sheer weight of her armor as it dragged down the speed of her attack. The nimble figure, though grimacing in pain, dodged around her. His arm reaching to break off the arrows as he moved past her.

It was Ilamin's chanting that did the trick as the furious gaze of the man suddenly turned to one of pain. He released a brief howl of agony, shaking his head as his steps grew to stumbles and uneven pacing moving forward.

Taking the opportunity, Abernathy and Sulhadur moved past the others to swing. Both missed as the man gave a shocked gasp, scrambling back to the cliffside.

Arrows flung past him or struck the rock face. Eyes glowing, the man made a gesture in the ladies directions as he muttered a harsh incantation. Their bow strings suddenly snapped in unison as they went to notch an arrow.

Having scaled back onto the jagged ridge, the man's eyes snapped in Essatha's direction. A clear look of disgust on his face as he looked upon her.

"You protect such vile putrid filth and villainy?" the man rasped, his voice clear and confident as he extended a finger in Essatha's direction.

Shaken, Essie pulled her damaged weapon close against her chest. Her eyes widened, confused. She hadn't done anything to this man. Why was he accusing her of anything? She didn't recognize them in the least.

On each side, she was being flanked as her equally confused but enraged comrades regrouped in the wider opening.

"Fine," the figure growled, watching as they all moved to protect each other. "Stand in my way, and you will all but brought down. That monstrosity you're harboring will meet an end by my blade, you have my word."

As he spoke, the man lifted his longsword. Essatha could make out the somewhat unkept surface. She really hoped those were rust stains, but she had a good idea that's not what they were. Her stomach churned.

"What do you have against our companion?" Abernathy bellowed, his voice a menacing challenge.

"You're protecting a demon in disguise," the man stated with fury. "It is my rightful duty and vow as a paladin to destroy such beasts. I am sorry you have all be lied to and charmed by your ally, but should you live, you'll thank me for saving you one day."

"Bastard," Adela seethed, grabbing her arcana focus as she drew her hand forward.

Essatha sucked in a sharp breath, catching the man's eyes as they looked to her. She felt frozen, her head instantly splitting with pain as a voice invading her thoughts.

'I WILL COME FOR YOU, WRETCHED FIEND.'

As a blast of fire leapt forth from Adela, the figure turned, cloak whirling. As the flames dispersed, there was nothing to be seen. The figure had simply vanished.

Exhaling, Essatha nearly jumped out of her skin as Sulhadur placed a hand upon her shoulder. He wasn't looking to her though as she glanced his way, but to the cliff. Everyone else she realized as she glanced around, was uneasily looking around after the sudden and strange assault.

Her pupils thin frightened strips, Essie looked down at the ground. She could feel her pulse in her throat and her head still ached from the alien voice echoing in her thoughts.

Quietly, Adela's voice carried through the group faintly as she whispered, "A paladin with a vow to... take out yuan-tis?"

Uncomfortably, Abernathy spoke up: "It's... not a vow I'd be familiar with. But it's possible they twisted their vow to a selfish desire of destruction..."

She could feel eyes on her. Familiar gazes; concerned ones.

She didn't dare look up. Her stomach did flips inside of her. Sure, they'd dealt with worse. Cults, criminals, killers, mages and necromancers, oathbreaker paladins and blood hunters who had lost their way, creatures of darkness and demons.

But there was something to be said about having a target on your back because of what you were. It was personal.

He didn't even know her.

What lengths would they go to to kill her?

Sul's hand on her shoulder squeezed tighter, but it did nothing to reassure her.

If it was the holy mission of this man to end her, if his goal was to eliminate Yuan-tis because of what they were, she had no clue what to expect next. It all made sense though; the paranoia, the feeling of being watched. He was targeting.

How long did they have before they could strike again? Could they even prepare for the unpredictability?

All because of something she couldn't control. All because of what she was. She hadn't chosen to be a yuan-ti. She didn't ask for this; didn't sacrifice or kill for this life and these abilities. Hell, she didn't /want/ them, frankly.

Despite the hot sun and friends surrounding, she felt alone, and cold, and more scared then she'd warranted in a long, long time.

#eci artz #Essie rw

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faekieren · 8 years ago

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drarry recs!

this is by no means a definitive list! as a disclaimer, I read some of these over a year ago and they may vary in quality, but I liked them all. fics by the same author are all clumped together but this is in no particular order. i have big preferences for certain authors. faves are bolded. super faves are italicised and bolded. under the cut because this is very long

Another Mask Behind You by lettered

“Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him. And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies. (And then more porn. Seriously, if you don’t want sex scene after sex scene you probably shouldn’t read this. And please read the warnings.)”

The Fall of the Veils by lettered

“This is the fic where Muggles find out about wizards, wars are fought, Apparition is abolished, political conspiracies abound, Draco is asexual, and Harry has Legilimency sex with him.”

The Pure and Simple Truth by lettered

“Harry, Draco, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, and Pansy go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Hermione go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione and Ron go to a pub. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Pansy―you guessed it―go to a pub. I could go on. In fact, I did. Harry, Draco, Hermione, Pansy, Ron, Blaise, Luna, Goyle, Neville, and Theodore Nott go to a pub. In various combinations.”

No Other Superstar by lettered

“Draco is sort of fucked up. Harry is sort of fucked up and really really famous. Together they fight crime! Not in this fic, though. In this fic they have sex.”

The Bound Prince by slashpervert

“In HBP, there is a pivotal moment where things could have gone very differently for Harry and Draco. In the bathroom sixth year, Draco is upset that Harry has caught him crying and throws a hex. It escalates and ends in blood, with Harry nearly killing Draco by accident. In this story, instead, unvoiced attraction to Harry motivates Draco to take a chance and kiss him. Once sparked, their mutual desire and exploration becomes the driving force in the alternative ending to the series. Draco's "mission" from Voldemort turns out to be more complex than that presented in canon and their solution even more difficult.”

This is just shy of a million words if you want something to really get into! Be warned that it is emotionally devastating at parts, and you could stop reading after the first fic in the series.

Simulacrum by slashpervert

“Draco sends a gift to Potter and finds himself in a difficult but erotic position.”

This ridiculous magical sex toys smut and nothing else but I love it jkdjdnfjkasl

To Give Everything by slashpervert

“Draco finds The Room, a torture chamber in the Hogwarts dungeons and longs for someone to submit to him. Harry finds he needs that and more.”

After Hours at the Ministry of Magic by birdsofshore

“It isn't precisely how Harry planned to spend Christmas Eve: trapped in a lift with his ex-boyfriend, somewhere between the third and the fourth floors of the Ministry of Magic.”

Higher and Higher (Temptation) by birdsofshore

“Only Harry Potter could manage to put on a magical collar on impulse and find himself unable to take it off again. Now following Draco’s direct orders gives him intense pleasure, and Draco has a whole heap of troubles to deal with, not least the way Potter looks when the collar has him gasping with bliss. The whole situation would test the morals of a saint... and Draco’s no saint.”

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore

“Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.”

One Night at the Leaky by birdsofshore

“Harry should have known better than to accept a drunken dare. Especially when Malfoy was sitting right there, looking like that and wearing those bloody tight trousers.”

Hungry by birdsofshore

“The first thing Harry knew about it was when he woke up lying on a bed in the hospital wing, with his arm firmly stuck to the scrawny, milk-white arm of Draco bloody Malfoy.”

All Life is Yours To Miss by Saras_Girl

“Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.”

Saras_Girl’s Fluffy!verse

this is just a lot of fluffy oneshots! they’re mainly under 10k and I’ve noted where they get longer. my personal favourites are:

Code-Cracking For Gryffindors

Hermione Granger and the Case of the Cherry Blossoms

Rainfall

Talk to Me (15k)

The Haunting (10k)

Turn by Saras_Girl

“One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

This story contains some het, a lot of slash, some epilogue-friendly stuff and a lot of AU. It is vaguely inspired by the film ‘The Family Man’ but in reality, is a variation on a concept that is, quite frankly, well old. I implore you to just trust me and enjoy the story.”

On a Clear Day by Saras_Girl

“Draco Malfoy is waiting for his real life to begin, and it appears that he’s not the only one. Coffee, charity, and the wisdom of the elderly.

This is a post-war, feature-length oneshot told entirely from Draco’s point of view. It is canon-compliant through DH but obviously disregards the epilogue. [What epilogue?]”

just. draco sings the smiths??? and i cried

Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl

“When the war isn’t quite as over as it first appears, a guilt-ridden Harry is sent to a mysterious safe-house. Among sandwiches, insomnia, and Mills & Boon, he discovers something quite unexpected. [Smoochfest 2012]”

Frost on a Park Bench by Saras_Girl

This is Draco's park. Harry Potter has no business being here.

Reparations, Foundations & all that follows by Saras_Girl

“Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

When one door closes, another one opens – with a bit of a push. Life, love and complications.”

my favourite favourite thing I’ve ever read is probably Còmhla, the very last fic of this series, but don’t read it without having read the rest of it

This Summer by Saras_Girl

“This is a summery romantic comedy featuring my favourite ensemble cast, in which Harry is confused, Draco is Draco, and Hermione attempts to eat all the things.”

Big Dick, Come Quick (pdf or epub) by calanthe

“Draco’s got a theory. About sex. And after much searching for the right candidate, it appears that only Harry Potter, his life long enemy, can help him test it out.”

The Logic of Dreams by Frayach

“J.K. Rowling meets Philip K. Dick. War hero Harry Potter suddenly finds himself guilty of a murder he hasn’t committed of a man he has never met. And worst of all, he has no means of confronting his accusers, all of whom are former Death Eaters. Could this be a set-up? Or something even worse? Loosely based on the short story The Minority Report”

On the Couch by Frayach

“It’s a Mind Healer’s worse nightmare to lose a patient to suicide, but Mind Healer Nick Nichols can attest to the fact that a murder/suicide is even worse. If only Dr. Freud had come up with a sure cure for love.”

it feels weird but trust me

let me see you stripped (down to the bone) by traintracks

“"So," Malfoy said. "Are you in? Or are you out?" He turned and looked at Harry squarely. Harry remembered the slow way Malfoy had slid his hand down his own stomach, into his pants – the outline of his long fingers gripping and stroking his own cock. The way his head had fallen back, exposing his pale throat. How he had owned them all. He took a deep breath. "I'm in," he said.”

Harry Potter and The Sexual Awakening by jrayoh23

“Harry Potter gets outed by Rita Skeeter in a recent Daily Prophet article and decides to take matters into his own hands. He decides to write a tell-all that everyone wants, the story of how he came to terms with his sexuality. What no one, especially Draco Malfoy, expects is this book doubles as a love letter to someone Harry calls, L.B.

In the midst of being assigned to read and review Potter's new book, Draco realizes that some of the stories Potter tells in his book seem a little too familair. Thus, bringing up old feelings about the man.”

Light as Iron, Singed as Pearl by Snegurochka

“The owner of the elite BDSM club M. had not gained his reputation as the most coveted Dominant on the scene by taking on just any riff-raff submissive who asked. It would take an unexpected letter to convince him to accept a new client, but it might turn out to be the biggest mistake he ever made.”

The Hogwarts Rebellion by Lumelle

“When someone apparently casts an enchantment upon Hogwarts that causes hearts to float around in the air whenever someone is near a person they have a crush on, it seems like a harmless enough thing.

Of course, this only holds until it hits a Potter and a Malfoy. After that, things get interesting.”

okay so this is technically a scorbus fic but it’s the cutest, fluffiest thing I’ve ever read and there’s some drarry and i love it

Double Take by kcstories

“The Yule Ball didn't go according to plan. An intrigued Draco follows a desolate Harry into a hidden room. Things will never be the same again. (An alternate take on Harry's fourth year).”

Side-Along by lumosed_quill

“If this wasn't a curse then it was Hell. Because surely, in Hell, all roads would lead to Harry Potter's living room.”

How to Handle an Enemy & Turnbout Is Fair Play by who_la_hoop

“Everyone knows that it's no fun playing truth or dare with a Slytherin. But add a little Veritaserum, a scheming duo of Slytherin girls and surprising things can be revealed. Particularly about the fine line between love and hate…

After a – cough – revealing game of truth or dare instigated by his fellow Slytherins, Draco Malfoy finds himself in possession of a). the interesting knowledge that a certain Gryffindor horror may not be as immune to his personal charms as hitherto suspected and b). the password to the Gryffindor Tower. But Draco makes a fundamental error when he decides to make use of these facts...”

The Potter-Malfoy Problem by who_la_hoop

The room of requirement's gone mad — at least, that's what Harry thinks. There's no way that Draco Malfoy 'requires' him, of all people, but why does it keep dragging Harry there like he's some kind of furniture, every time Malfoy enters it? Throw in Pansy the pervert and a clipboard-wielding Hermione, and things can only go from bad to worse. And that's not even mentioning the pirates...

there are plently of good fics by the authors included in this list but i’ve not got around to reading them all so have a look if you need new fics! i don’t often stray from ao3 so if you have recs from elsewhere please lmk!

i have read some straight up weird, kinky, and/or angsty fics but i didn’t feel like including them here, message me if you’re interested! i feel like i’m definitely forgetting some fics, so I’ll be coming back to edit this

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ohmytheon · 8 years ago

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there's something at work in my soul (1)

I can't believe I finished this monstrosity of a fic, but I did it and now I can finally focus on all my other projects without feeling guilty. This is the Soul Eater/FMA AU that no one asked for, but I couldn't get out of my head and I used this year's Resbang as an excuse to write it. What was supposed to be like 20k turned into almost 44k, so wow, that's absurd. Special thanks to @innocentcinnamonbun whose incredible and beautiful artwork you can see HERE. I'm absolutely in love with all and may or may not be using that first one as my phone's background because WOW it's brilliant. I AM IN AWE AND FLOORED. And also a shout out to @dollypopup who inspired me, helped me keep my steam rolling, and is an all-around awesome person and writer, no matter what she says.

Rating: (hard) PG-13 Warnings: depictions of violence and death, blood, unethical and illegal science experiments, kidnapping, scenes of murder, animal death, Madness, body horror, suspense, fear, flashbacks, war, language Pairings: Stein/Marie, minor Maka/Soul, past Spirit/Kami, one-sided Stein/Medusa Summary: (Fullmetal Alchemist Fusion AU)

Years after serving in the horrors of the Ishval War and seclusion, Stein, a State Alchemist whose alchemy is terrifying and unique, is forced to investigate a series of grisly murders alongside his old roommate and closest friend, Lieutenant-Colonel Marie Mjolnir, and former pal, General Spirit Albern. The mission: find and capture the Vector Alchemist, Medusa Gorgon, to stop her horrific alchemy experiments. But things become complicated as Stein journeys down this dark rabbit hole. Not only must he confront the terrible truth about alchemy, but he also must face his own demons, the mistakes of his past, and how his alchemy affected his relationships with Marie and Spirit. Is he any better than Medusa or is he already too far gone? As gruesome as Medusa’s crimes are, he can’t help but be intrigued by the alchemy and Marie can only remind him of his humanity for so long.

Chapter One: Deflagration

Rain was as familiar to him as, well, not a friend. Most would say that he didn’t know what friends were, but rain was a near constant for him in Central. He supposed that some people would find that comforting. Honestly, he didn’t feel one way or another. The rain didn’t soothe him and it didn’t hinder him. He was capable of doing most of his work and research inside anyways.

Currently it had been fifty-five days since Stein last left his home-turned-lab. He only knew that because he had made sure to buy enough food to last him approximately sixty days and he was beginning to come up short. Not that he counted his calories or watched what he ate. He just didn’t like the idea of being interrupted by something as simple as hunger and the need to grocery shop. His work was important, one of a kind. He already slept as little as possible. The government acted like his unending research wasn’t enough as it was.

But then, the government was particularly greedy when it came to alchemy.

Many of his fellow State Alchemists had dropped out of the program after the war ended. Stein didn’t blame them exactly, but he didn’t know how anyone could give up alchemy, something that was a part of him as much as his brain. Then again, he hadn’t been shaken nearly to the point they were. He had simply come back home, stitched up what little was left of his soul after committing so many atrocities, and gone back to his research. And if he had any nightmares, he didn’t sleep much anyways.

Just as he was finishing typing up a report on his latest test, a knock at the door echoed through the hallway. Stein ignored it at first, thinking that it might be one of the neighborhood kids. The older ones liked to bully the weaker kids into knocking on his door and running away in terror should he ever answer. He was considered something of a horror legend to the kids. It didn’t phase him much, but it was sometimes amusing to watch them flee or try to come up with an excuse if he ever caught them.

A minute later though, the knocking continued. It was a persistent and precise tapping on the metal door. The second he recognized it, he knew who was behind the door. Well, not who exactly, more like what. Stein sighed and saved his work before standing up and stretching. He hated being bothered by what he considered watch guards, but he was a Dog of the Military and so he had little to do but respond obediently.

At least they didn’t try to make him wear that irritating military uniform.

Not bothering with the lights, Stein made his way through his sparse lab to the front room. What would’ve been considered a living room by most standards held the barest semblance of one. The only reason he had a couch was because of his last roommate who moved out a little under a year after returning from the war. “Keep it,” she’d told him, “because I know you won’t buy another one.” He hadn’t planned on ever using it, but to be honest, he found himself sleeping on it more than his own bed.

Right as another round of knocking began, Stein unlocked the door and opened it, ready to tell of whatever poor Sergeant or Warrant Officer they’d sent to come fetch him. He had very important work to do, after all. Instead, he was left to stare down in mild surprise at his old roommate.

Marie Mjolnir was as small as he remembered, though not as bright. Her normally shiny blonde hair was a dirty blonde and plastered against her head due to the pouring rain and his house not having an awning to hide under. The blue eyepatch was new; she had left wearing the sparse black one the military had given her like an apology back in Ishval. It matched her uniform, which she somehow managed to make look attractive, despite being the same as every other soldier’s and hiding her curves. Maybe that was just her though.

“Are you going to let me in or are you just going to continue to assess me?” Marie asked.

Read the rest: AO3 (or keep reading and wait for updates)

A very direct question, how so very like her. Despite the fact that he had left her out in the rain and ignored her for a few minutes, she didn’t look mad. She didn’t look happy either though. Considering that she was still wearing her uniform, when he knew for a fact that she slipped out of her uniform the second she came home, this was not a personal visit. This was work. And they had sent her.

Stein stepped aside so that she could traipse inside. She cringed, muttering an apology about the water, but he only shrugged his shoulders in response. It would take little effort to clean it up. Instead of waiting for him, she found the light switch and turned it on to illuminate the room as he closed the door. Even after all these years gone, she didn’t need his help to find her way around the place.

“Do you need something dry to wear?” If it was anyone else in the world, Stein would not have bothered asking. Hospitality was a stretch for him even with her after years of not seeing her, but he knew that she would appreciate the attempt. He did not dwell on why her appreciation mattered. He especially did not dwell on why he had some of her old, dry belongings for her to wear still stored in a box in the back of his closet.

Marie smiled at him in the same sad way she did when she was moving out. “Thank you, but no, I’m afraid I’m here on business.”

“What do the Powers-That-Be require of me now?” Stein asked as he moved to sit on the couch. He sat right in the middle, lounging and throwing his arms on the back. A polite man would have offered her a place to sit, but Stein admittedly felt on edge. The government was requiring his assistance and they had sent Marie to get him, knowing full well what she meant to him. Or at least he thought they did. They had their eyes in everyone’s lives.

“It’s not necessarily you, per say,” Marie told him carefully, “so much as someone you know.”

Stein eyed her. She didn’t appear uncomfortable being under his scrutiny, but she never had been. While every other person averted their gaze from him or skirted around him, she never looked away from his gaze and was always upfront with him. She wasn’t afraid of him, despite his reputation. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had been; she had seen firsthand exactly what he was capable of.

“What do they want?” Stein questioned flatly.

“You’re familiar with Medusa Gorgon,” Marie said, not sounding a hint bitter. He remembered the times when they were younger and she would desperately try to avoid any conversation about girls with him. Such innocent times seemed so far away, like they weren’t even real. No, this was business for her. “Also known as-”

“The Vector Alchemist,” Stein interrupted. “Yes, I’m familiar with her.”

Marie folded her arms across her chest. “A little more than familiar, I would say. You’ve seen her work, yes?”

“Sure, along with every General that has their hands in the State Alchemist Program.”

“Actually, that isn’t true - or at least it hasn’t been in a while.” Marie sighed. It wasn’t often that the government admitted making a mistake. They liked to pretend that every bump in the road was a step in the right direction, like it was meant to happen. Tell that to the men and women that died during the Ishval War. “She disappeared a month after the last State Alchemist exam, taking all of her research with her. Many felt like she was holding out. You were in contact with her that last month.”

Fixing his glasses so that they reflected off of the light, Stein considered what was being laid before him. It was true that he had been in contact with Medusa the month after their exams, but that hadn’t been the last time he had seen her. That had been eight months ago, a full two months after she’d supposedly disappeared. She had been extremely secretive and they hadn’t met in the same location as before, but many alchemists were quite possessive of their research to the point of paranoia.

Apparently, she had been confident enough in him to show him some of her top secret alchemy research and now the government was expecting him to spill the details. Very smart of them to send Marie, who he hated lying to. He wondered if they had questioned her on her past relationship with him before sending her here.

“They need me to tell her what I know of her research?” Stein fiddled around in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes before pulling out a rather smashed up pack. Despite being a little bent, he found a usable one. “It’s not much, to be honest. She kept all of her work coded. I only saw what she me to see and only because I thought it might tie into my own research.”

“And did it?”

Stein placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it, taking a long drag and blowing out smoke before answering. “We had different views in the end.”

Apparently that wasn’t the exact answer that Marie wanted to hear, judging by the little frown on her face. Still, she didn’t push him. She knew better than to do that. Anyone else and they would’ve started trying to interrogate him. Marie knew that if he had something to say, he would say it, and if he didn’t want to, he wouldn’t. Alchemists were tricky lots to deal with. Having grown up around them, she knew how to deal with them. Most people in the government did not.

“Regardless, the higher ups don’t really care about what you have to say about her research,” Marie explained, not bothering to wave any smoke away from her face. He was careful to blow in the opposite direction. “They would rather hear about it directly from her.”

Ah, there it was: the kicker, the true reason why they needed him. “I’m the last known person to see her. They need me in order to find her.”

“She trusted you enough to show you part of her research,” Marie pointed out. She didn’t look away from him even now. Marie trusted him too, didn’t she? And yet from the way she spoke about Medusa, she clearly didn’t like this other woman. So what did that say of him? Years had passed since they last saw each other, much longer since he saw Medusa. She had to wonder how much he had changed, especially after the war.

She had offered to stay - if he needed any help - but hadn’t given her a reason to do so. Every now and then, he couldn’t help but wonder if things would’ve turned out differently if he had. No reason to dwell on that though, not with her standing in front of him now gazing at him expectantly. Even though he hated going to Headquarters and talking to his superior officers even more, she wouldn’t have had to push him to come with her. A soft look from that single eye of hers alone would have corralled him into following her.

Pushing himself from off the couch, Stein moved to grab his white jacket when Marie made a slight noise of disapproval. Stein glanced back at her, jacket in his hands, but he didn’t need her to speak to know what she was telling him. He couldn’t help himself; he groaned out loud. “I’m not exactly a proper member of the military. Is it really necessary?”

“Yes, Franken, it is,” Marie huffed. The use of his name was both foreign and familiar. It had been a long time since anyone had said it, but she always had. “Go put on your uniform. And we’re stopping by my place before we head to HQ. I’m not stepping foot in the Fuhrer’s office sopping wet.”

Once in the Fuhrer’s office, Stein tugged uncomfortably at his uniform, just barely avoiding Marie slapping his hands away. Even though he was the leader of the country and military, the Fuhrer was an oddly cheerful man made even odder by his very uncheerful nickname, “Lord Death”. The man that had taken over the government after the Ishval War was tall and thin, pale skin stretched thin on a bony face that reminded some people of a skull. He had a white, toothy smile and youthfully cheeky voice, but his dark eyes were sharp and attentive. There was no such thing as hiding from a man like this.

Stein had only met the man once before when he was promoted in a ceremony the month after the war. It had been more for show than anything else. Anyone that knew him would’ve said that Stein didn’t give a damn about how far up he was on the ladder in the military. He’d taken the title of Major for granted after becoming a State Alchemist. The fact that he was technically a Colonel, despite having no subordinates to order around, was laughable. He had only joined the military because of the abilities it granted him with his research. Serving in the war had been an...unfortunate consequence he had considered before taking the initial exam.

During the ceremony, Marie had also been promoted to First Lieutenant, not having the same advantage of having jumped straight to Major like he had upon first joining the military. She had beamed throughout the whole thing, graciously thanking the newly appointed Fuhrer and shaking his hand, even dancing with him at one point - only to cry in her bedroom later that night. He had heard her cries through the walls, torn between leaving her alone and trying to help her, except he hadn’t known how to help her. That was the beginning of the end for them, though he couldn’t say why he thought that or if it mattered now.

The Fuhrer did not look a day older than he did during the ceremony. It had to have been almost five years and yet the man looked no different. Granted, Marie didn’t either, except for being a little more defined and perhaps more subdued, but Stein was certain that he was marginally paler, skinnier, and grayer. Being constantly indoors did not help his appearance.

“Ah, Colonel Stein, a pleasure to meet you again!” the Fuhrer exclaimed, reaching out to shake his hand. Stein was used to having larger hands than anyone, what with his long fingers, but he was curious to see that the Fuhrer’s hand was bigger than his, almost comically out of proportion with the rest of his body. “I knew that if anyone was going to be able to get you out of that dark, creepy lab, it would be Lieutenant-Colonel Mjolnir.”

Stein arched an eyebrow at that and gave Marie an appraising glance.

In response, Marie tilted her chin up. “You didn’t think I would stay where I was, did you?”

“You said that you didn’t want to make the military a career,” Stein pointed out, though not accusingly. Those hadn’t been her exact words. It was more along the lines of her being concerned that it would be more difficult for her to find a husband if she was career military. Men tended to feel...threatened by a woman higher up in the ranks. He wondered if her advancing meant that she had found someone or she had given up. Neither option seemed pleasing for some reason.

Staring back at him almost defiantly, Marie simply told him, “Things change.”

“That they do, that they do,” the Fuhrer cut in. “I can see you all have plenty to catch up on, but time is of the essence. Luckily you two will be working together on this mission.”

Marie whipped her head back to gawk at the Fuhrer. “Pardon me, sir? Together?”

“Mission?” Stein questioned, his brain having even gotten to the ‘together’ part of his statement, freezing mid-tug on his jacket. The last mission he had gone on had been being sent to the frontlines. The higher ups had known better than to ask him to be part of one again, leaving him to his lonely but important alchemy research. Being dragged back into another military mess was not high on his priority list.

“I’m sure the Lieutenant-Colonel informed you that we are searching for Medusa Gorgon in order to learn the details of her research, but that’s not the entire story,” the Fuhrer explained as he sat down behind his desk. Neither Marie nor Stein followed suit, as they had not been given leeway to sit. Stein might abhor the military and all that it stood for and even mock some of the customs, but this was the Fuhrer, after all. “We have been...made aware of crimes committed with the use of alchemy and evidence suggests that it’s the Vector Alchemist’s work. Unfortunately we have little to no idea what we’re up against and any attempt at finding her has either ended with dead ends or, to be frank, dead soldiers.”

“So you decided to send a mad dog to hunt another one?” Stein drawled dryly.

The Fuhrer smiled and it did not come off as kindly as before. “Well, dogs are good at sniffing things out, are they not? And madness has such a particular stench, especially when alchemy is concerned.”

Alchemy was dangerous. There was a reason why the government was so interested in it.

“And the reason for Marie joining?” Stein asked. Marie stiffened at his side, but said nothing. If the Fuhrer had any thoughts concerning Stein’s use of Marie’s first name instead of her military rank or surname, he made no comments. Stein was about as close to a civilian as a State Alchemist could get these days. The anti-fraternization laws were strict, but it had never been of any concern for them before, especially since they had only ever worked together during the war.

“Well, you’re not exactly trained on military protocol or used to being on missions,” the Fuhrer said. “That’s where Mjolnir comes in. She’s going to run the mission.” In other words: she was going to hold his leash. “I imagine that her people skills might come in handy.” The man had the audacity to laugh as he leaned back in his chair and watched the two of them stand awkwardly next to one another. “Besides, I figured you would want to work with her versus a stranger. I know how...prickly you can be towards people.”

That might have been an understatement, but it was true nonetheless. If he had to work with someone, Stein would have only wanted to work with Marie. Everyone else was too squeamish.

The train ride out to Eastern took far too long. Stein stayed in their assigned compartment nearly the entire time, buried in his notes as usual, while Marie toured the train. Well, she said she toured the train when he knew for a fact that she merely got lost and forgot which compartment was theirs. When he finally found her while leaving for his one trip to the bathroom, she was peeking into the wrong compartment and apologizing profusely. She was not particularly forthcoming on what she saw and sat across from him silent and red-faced the rest of the trip.

“Our contact is to meet us at the train station rather than HQ to not arise suspicion,” Marie stated as they gathered their belongings and walked off the train.

Stein paused so that he could frown at her. Their contact? So there was to be someone else on this ridiculous mission then? Why hadn’t the Fuhrer told him about this other person? It seemed that the longer this went on, the more questions that came about. How were they find answers if their own government refused to provide any?

“Took you long enough to get here, Little Mjolnir,” a familiar voice called out to them.

Marie squealed in excitement as she rushed past him, dropping her suitcase in the process. Stein was left to stand and process the situation. Being so short and their contact being so tall, she had been forced to jump in order to throw her arms around the neck of him. She was practically glowing with joy as she beamed. Stein, for his part, did little more than pick up her suitcase and carry both of their belongings forward.

“You’re our contact out East?” Stein greeted. “I didn’t think the Fuhrer would let you out of his sight.”

General Spirit Albarn scowled as he hugged Marie. When she let go out of him, he carefully let her down to her feet so that she didn’t stumble. He looked as if he had aged as little as Marie, still youthful in the face and with vibrant red hair almost to his shoulders. The uniform looked good on him, especially those stars on his shoulder. Being promoted to the Fuhrer’s right hand man had done him well - and kept him out of Stein’s field. The two of them hadn’t worked together since the War and for good reason.

It was, after all, thanks to Spirit that Stein knew so much about manipulating the soul via alchemy, whether he had been a willing participant or not.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Spirit admitted, his glare at Stein turning into a softer look at Marie, “but certain circumstances have come up.”

“The witnesses,” Marie replied, already commiserating with him. She was much more empathetic than he was. When Stein made no reaction, both soldiers looked at him. “Did you even read the file?”

Stein slid his tongue across his teeth behind his lips and squinted at the sun. That was a sufficient answer enough for them and they both sighed in aggravation. Of course he didn’t. Stein read files only when they suited him and he knew more about the Vector Alchemist than anyone else in the military. They didn’t have anything that he didn’t already know and, even worse, they were lacking sufficient evidence. What else did he need to know?

“Trust me,” Spirit added as they walked out of the train station, “I wouldn’t be working with you if not for her.”

Stein arched a bored eyebrow. “The Vector Alchemist?”

“My daughter,” Spirit ground out irritably.

That was considerably more interesting than Stein anticipated. His other eyebrow rose in response, but he said nothing out loud. The Fuhrer had said that they had been made aware of Medusa’s crimes somehow, which he’d figured was most likely through a witness, and it appeared as if the witness was his old colleague’s daughter. Of course, if Spirit’s daughter was able to recognize Medusa’s work even a little bit, that meant…

“Your daughter is an alchemist,” Stein blurted once his train of thought finished.

Spirit smiled, looking somewhat dazed. “She’s absolutely brilliant, just like her mother.”

“How is Kami doing these days?” Stein asked.

He was not deigned an answer. Both of them knew that Kami was somewhere in Xing, traveling the world in order to learn more about alchemy. She’d been gone for over a year. The last time Stein had seen Spirit’s ex-wife, she’d been slinging a bag over her shoulders and telling him not to bother contacting her. He didn’t know why she felt obliged to tell him that. He wouldn’t have even if she hadn’t told him. She knew that. Maybe it was action itself.

“Arrangements have been made for you at the Mirage hotel near HQ,” Spirit said as if Stein hadn’t spoken. He started to walk out of the train station and they followed him to a military vehicle that was parked outside. “I didn’t think you’d want to stay in the dorms.” Before Marie could say anything, he quickly added, “Only one room, I’m afraid, but two beds. Cliche, I know, but it was last minute. I’m sorry; I’ll work to get it fixed as quickly as possible. I know that Stein is a terrible roommate.”

Honestly, Stein had benefited quite a bit during all the times Spirit had crashed on his couch whenever Kami kicked him out, much to Spirit’s own displeasure, but Marie would never have to worry about the same things as Spirit.

In fact, Marie smiled slightly at the implication. “I never had a problem with him.”

As Stein put their suitcases in the back of the truck, he caught sight of Spirit shaking his head. Spirit had never been able to understand how Marie was able to live with Stein in peace. Along with Kami, the four of them had grown close during the war, the taint on their souls bonding them in ways that even Stein recognized as different and perhaps even important. It had also torn them apart in the end. Stein never wondered what their lives might have been if none of them had been shipped off to the frontlines, but he knew Marie did.

That kind of thing left a stain on a person. He did wonder if that was when her dreams about getting married and living happily ever after had started to dissolve.

Even though Spirit held the front passenger door open for her, Marie shook her head. “I’ll take the back.” She wiggled a foot in the air, looking small even in her military boots. “I’m smaller.”

Spirit did not look exactly pleased at having Stein sit up front with him, but he didn’t complain either. Marie hopped in the back while Stein slid in the front. He’d forced his tall body into odd and uncomfortable positions before, but Marie was all about being a mediator. He had a suspicious feeling that she was trying to force Stein and Spirit together so that they might mend the tattered remains of their old friendship. Stein honestly didn’t know if it was worth it or if Spirit would be a willing participant.

“I’ll drop you off so you can get settled,” Spirit told them as he started the truck. “It’s late and a school night for Maka, so we’ll convene at HQ tomorrow at 8 and conduct Maka’s interview during her study hall.”

It struck Stein as interesting that they weren’t jumping on things immediately, regardless of Maka being in school, but he said nothing. The rest of the drive was silent, which suited Stein. Smalltalk had never been one of his fortes. Manipulating previously unheard of and volatile alchemy on the other hand was, which made him both a better and dangerous fit for this mission. While he had known right from the get go that Medusa was a horrible person, she was also a brilliant alchemist and, horrific or not, he’d like to get a glimpse of her research before handing it over to the government. It wasn’t like the government wasn’t going to try to use it for their own benefit anyways.

They’d used Stein’s alchemy research, after all, to dramatic effect.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, Stein caught Marie gazing at him, but she quickly averted her gaze to outside the window and the passing buildings. His fingers twitched on top of his thighs. How did it always seem like Marie knew when his thoughts were turning darker?

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lambpain82-blog · 6 years ago

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Cooking French Foods with Kids

In her new book In the French Kitchen with Kids: Easy, Everyday Dishes for the Whole Family to Make and Enjoy, Mardi Michels forgets the fuss and brings simple, elegant French dishes to life with a few tips to get the kids involved too. Cooking French foods with kids is a great way teach them about another culture while honing their kitchen skills.

From pastries to breakfast, lunch, dinner and even a hefty dose of vegetable dishes, this is a great cookbook to get kids involved and excited about making their food. Not sure if you’re kids will like French food? It’s not all frog legs! Start with something approachable, like a cheesy pasta bake, croissants or roast chicken. Then move on to more veggie-loaded dishes like ratatouille or fish cakes. We asked Mardi what a good way to introduce or entice a young eater to fish.

“Speaking as a former young tentative fish-eater myself, I can tell you that breadcrumbs are your friend! And cheese. And possibly some frying action! When I was younger I would only ever eat fish fingers (shocking, considering I grew up in Australia!) and from my work cooking with kids, I know that sometimes fish isn’t their favourite. There are two fish recipes in In the French Kitchen with Kids that I developed because I knew they would have appealed to me as a child – a plain fish fillet coated in lemon-y, cheesy breadcrumbs, and some fish and potato cakes which are coated in crunchy breadcrumbs and then pan-fried – and both are proving to be a hit with kids and parents alike!”

How do you encourage a child to get hands-on with a food project when they don’t like to have messy hands?

“I find that how fussy kids are about getting messy depends on the food. For example, if they are working with cookie dough (or pastry), they don’t tend to mind so much. It’s the things like meat and fish where they get squeamish. That said, it IS important that kids get hands on in the kitchen as so much of cooking is about using all your senses, including touch. I always have gloves on hand for those kids who are squeamish around things like raw meat because I don’t want them to miss out on the experience.”

Do you have a current favorite ingredient that you can’t get enough of right now?

“My favourite seasonal ingredient right now is tomatoes – I spent some time in France this summer and couldn’t stop buying, eating and cooking with all manner of varieties of them. One of my favourite French recipes to use up all those tomatoes is a Tomato and Mustard Tart (rustic so, perfect for kids to make too!)”

So get into the kitchen with the kiddos! And be sure to check out Mardi’s cookbook for more doable recipes and tips. Try the recipe below for quick croissants from the book.

Typically, croissants are made using a laminated dough, where layers of butter are rolled and folded into the layers of dough. This is a complex technique that takes the better part of a day to do properly and doesn’t really belong in a book of “easy, everyday” recipes for children, but I couldn’t write a French cookbook and not include a recipe for croissants. This one borrows a technique from the great Julia Child, who borrowed it from Beatrice Ojakangas (author of The Great Scandinavian Baking Book) for inclusion in Baking with Julia. It produces a fluffy, rather than super- flaky, croissant. This is definitely one of the more advanced recipes in the book, not because it’s difficult, but because it requires a bit of planning and some precision in the rolling and folding. But if you set out to make this a weekend project and take each step slowly, you’ll be thrilled with the results. These do require a bit of planning but they are so worth the effort! A suggested timetable is as follows: Day 1: 60 minutes’ hands-on time, in stages, 60-minute rest in fridge. Refrigerate overnight. Day 2: 45 minutes’ hands-on time (rolling, measuring), 3 hours’ proofing time, 20 to 25 minutes’ bake time. Have you ever wondered why even though the word “croissant” means “crescent,” many croissants are straight, not crescent-shaped? In France, shaping a croissant straight as opposed to rounded is a way of showing that it is made with pure butter (as opposed to margarine or another fat). You’ll often see them sold as croissants au beurre (butter croissants) and croissants ordinaires (ordinary, i.e., NOT butter, croissants). Looking for the croissant’s chocolaty cousin the pain au chocolat? You’ll find it on page 63 in the After-School Snacks chapter, as it’s traditionally enjoyed in the afternoon.

½ cup (125 mL) 2% milk

21/2 teaspoons active dry yeast

1½ cups (225 g) all-purpose flour

¼ cup (50 g) granulated sugar

1 cup (226 g) cold salted butter or European-style butter, cut into rough cubes

All-purpose flour, for rolling and shaping

1 egg, lightly beaten

1 tablespoon heavy (35%) cream

Heat the milk to between 110?F and 113?F (approx. 45?C) in a medium pot over medium heat (use a digital thermometer to measure the temperature). If heating in a microwave, use a microwave-safe bowl and start with 30 seconds on high. Continue to heat in increments of 15 seconds and be sure not to overheat.

Pour the milk into a large heatproof bowl and sprinkle the yeast over it.

Let it sit for 10 minutes. It will be slightly frothy on top after this time.

Meanwhile, place the flour, sugar and then the butter in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade. Pulse eight to ten times— you should still be able to see large chunks of butter.

Tip the flour/butter mix over the warmed milk and use a wooden spoon to just incorporate the dry ingredients into the milk. The dough will be lumpy, shaggy and quite dry at this point.

Use your hands to form a ball of dough. It might need a bit of work, but keep going—it will come together! Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap and place it in the fridge for at least 1 hour (don’t leave it much longer than this, though, because it will become too difficult to roll out).

Remove the dough from the fridge and lightly flour your countertop.

Knead the chilled dough gently until you can feel it becoming softer. Use your hands to shape it into a rough rectangle.

Lightly flour a rolling pin and roll out the dough until you have a very large rectangle (8 x 17 inches/20 x 40 cm). You should be able to see butter pieces in the dough. If the edges of the rectangle crack a little as you are rolling, simply push them together with your fingers and continue to roll until you have the correct size of rectangle.

Fold the top of the dough about two-thirds of the way down, then fold the bottom third up over the first fold. You might need a plastic bench scraper or spatula to help you scoop up the dough if it’s sticking a little.

Turn the block of dough clockwise so the seam (the open side) is on your right. This rolling and folding is known as a “turn.”

If the dough or work surface is sticky, lightly flour the surface, brushing off any excess flour with your fingertips or a pastry brush, and lightly flour the rolling pin again. Repeat Steps 7 through 9 seven times for a total of eight “turns.” Make sure you brush the excess flour off the pastry and the rolling pin each time, though you shouldn’t need very much extra flour. This dough is very smooth and elastic and rolls beautifully.

Wrap the dough tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for a minimum of 3 hours, but preferably overnight.

Line two baking trays with parchment paper. Remove the dough from the fridge and place a large piece of parchment paper on your countertop or table. Let the chilled dough sit for a few minutes so it’s not completely cold when you start working with it. Roll the dough until you have a rectangle that is a little over 8 x 24 inches (20 x 60 cm). This may take a bit of patience, but if you take it slowly, the dough will definitely roll out this large. Trim the edges of the rectangle so they are neat and straight—a tape measure and pizza cutter work well for this.

Working along the long sides of the rectangle, make a small cut in the dough on each side of the rectangle every 41/2 inches (12 cm). Place a tape measure across the width of the dough at the first mark. Use a long sharp knife or a pizza cutter to cut a rectangle across the width of the dough. Repeat at each mark until you have five rectangles.

Cut each rectangle in two diagonally to make two triangles. Use a tape measure (to make sure the triangles are even) and a pizza cutter to do this. You’ll have 10 triangles.

Gently stretch one of the triangles at each corner, then, working from the wide end, roll up the dough until you have reached the pointed end. Voilà, you have a croissant. Repeat with the remaining triangles. You might find that some of your croissants are not quite the shape you think they should be—again, practice makes perfect and they will still taste amazing!

Place five croissants on each tray and cover each tray with a clean tea towel. Leave to rest in a warm place for 3 hours. The croissants will puff up slightly during this time.

When the croissants have been resting for 21/2 hours, preheat the oven to 375?F (190?C). Whisk the egg and cream together and gently brush the tops of the croissants with this egg wash.

Place one tray in the top third of your oven and the other in the bottom third of the oven. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, or until the croissants are golden brown on top. Switch the trays from top to bottom and turn them from front to back halfway through baking.

Remove the baking trays from the oven. Let the croissants sit on the baking trays for about 10 minutes, then place them on a wire rack to cool completely (if you can wait). They will keep for 2 to 3 days in a resealable plastic bag (you can pop them in the microwave to reheat for a few seconds).

Honest Cooking

The Honest Cooking editorial team handpicks inspiring culinary stories to share with you that we think are beautiful. As an international online culinary magazine with the ambition to truly change the face of online food media we hope to create an inspiring place for serious culinary debate, salivating recipes, interesting food news and international food-fun.

Source: http://honestcooking.com/cooking-french-foods-with-kids/

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