#my idea is she was born into a family of witches and tried to resist that future but contracted tuberculosis and had to give in
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
lilystargazerwhite · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Nasty rotting dying stink stank ass patchipiulu
Text under cut with translation
Lunedì 8, 1911,
Il dottore è venuto di nuovo oggi. Non ha detto nulla, ma dal suo volto ho capito che le notizie non erano buone. Il mio corpo non ha alcuna linea di difesa, poiché la tisi ha cominciato a divorare i miei polmoni.
Sopravvivere significa rinunciare a quel poco di umanità che ho, come mia madre e sua madre prima di lei. Essere una strega potrebbe essere la mia unica scelta. Devo scegliere tra perdere tutto ciò che mi rende umana o essere lasciata a marcire lentamente in una stanza che nessuno vuole visitare.
Pensavo di avere più tempo. Anni, prima di fare il passaggio completo. Sono nata con sangue di strega quasi puro, ma non avrei mai pensato che il sangue dei miei polmoni avrebbe reso gli incantesimi sempre più difficili.
Lo farò stanotte, l'incantesimo per fermare l'età, la magia del sangue. Mi priverò di un futuro che non ero destinata ad avere, piuttosto che passare un altro giorno su questo letto, a marcire.
Non sono del tutto pronto, ma non lo sarò mai. Non posso aspettare oltre. Addio.
Translation:
Monday the eighth, 1911,
The doctor has come by again today. He said nothing, but I could tell by his face, the news was not good. My body has no line of defense, as the consumption has begin to devour my lungs whole.
To survive is to give up the little humanity I have, as my mother and her mother before her. Being a witch may be my only choice. I must choose between losing everything that makes me human, or be left to slowly rot away in a room no one wants to visit.
I thought I would have more time. Years, before I made the complete hand over. I have been born with almost pure witch blood, but I never thought the blood from my lungs would make the spells harder and harder.
I’m doing it tonight, the age halting spell, the blood magic. I will rob myself of a future I was never meant to have, rather than spend another day on this bed, rotting.
I’m not fully ready, but I never will be. I cannot wait any longer. Goodbye.
18 notes · View notes
studentinpursuitofclouds · 1 year ago
Note
I always have this feeling about Castle Village is that it’s not as lively as Pelican Town, like everything there is like an empty desert. There are not much trees growing there, no snow, no cold weather, flowers are rare over there.
What are your views on it? I wanna hear your opinion.
I have to disagree, dear anon, about Castle Village not being as lively as Pelican Town. Well, there's nothing in Crimson Baldlans but a perpetually howling bloody sandstorm and merciless monsters - that's undeniable. But thanks to wizards and witches (special credit to Camilla), people were able to find a home even in the literal hell on earth.
From the size of the concept-art that FlashShifter showed, and my perception before watching the interview, gave me an idea that the place is pretty big. Probably a bit bigger than Pelican Town itself (that's if you exclude the railroad area, the beach and the forest).
Of course, given the closed nature of the village itself and the fact that only Camilla decides who is allowed to enter, it makes it clear that you can't expect an influx of tourists. However, don't forget that the Castle Village is the main coven and gathering centre for all adventurers and wizards in the whole Republic, where you can buy a new sword, enchant amulets, stock up elixirs, sell valuable monster loot, learn to develop your magical talent, hone your swordsmanship, or just be in the company of people who work as hardened monster hunters. The many who have been given permission to step onto this land and purchase property, as well as the number of indigenous people who were born in the Village, will cumulatively make up the same number of people as in our good old Pelican Town.
As for the setting of the town itself - I always thought that the walls of Castle Village were built around a magical oasis that allowed people to live here, providing a source of fresh water and food resources, and protecting the oasis from corrupt magic was the job of the Ministry of Magic, Camilla in particular, since she was the one who lived here.
I always thought Crimson Baldlans was just an ordinary desert with unusual oases. Dark magic of unknown origin slowly but surely consumed the entire desert over a long period of time, but the magic that surrounded the oases tried to resist the dark onslaught. Unfortunately, it was not possible to resist for too long (to prove my headcanon, I will give the example of that black lake in Crimson Baldlans, where we could fish in the game). There was only one oasis left, the most important one, and the wizards of the time realized that their only hope of salvation lay in this little scrap of life in the middle of an already corrupted desert, as it held the secret to fighting this dark magic. The people built walls, put up a magical shield and began to study and guard the oasis. Some were immersed in the search for answers to this important question, others just wanted to live without worries, mages and adventurers settled here, started a family, the settlement grew, and we have what we have.
By the way, I'll add that one of my favourite headcanons that I've never written about here (or did, but forgot lol) is that once in a while Camilla opens up for a day or two for all the merchants that somehow know about the Castle Village to enter here so they can sell their wares and buy raw materials from the local merchants. A sort of event where there's a bazaar in the centre of the village, so there's even more people for a while (Thanks to this ambient that inspired this idea): 👇
https://youtu.be/8uRtW8lBe0I?si=19f49CEV1_IYIVg5
The climate is a bit more complicated, because time and weather in the village itself under the magic dome now flows differently: it's always, I think, a warm spring (late spring, when it should smoothly turn into a hot summer, to be even more precise), while everything outside the walls of the impregnable fortress has nothing that hints at life but a searing sun, a desert storm, and certain death. I swear, some of the natives are sure to complain that Crimson Baldlans has "heat worse than Hell".
I don't usually focus on comparing the world building of SDV and SVE with the real world, but the setting, buildings, objects that I saw in the latest teaser from FlashShifter about the Castle Village reminded me of Egyptian motifs, and the Middle East in general. I could be wrong, it's just my guess, so feel free to write about your theories!
So, conclusion:
For me, the Castle Village is provided as a hub for all monster hunters, adventurers, mages, wizards and people who are not sceptical or fearful of magic. Each house is an impregnable fortress of dark stone, the same as the walls of the Village. The main magical academy and the most imposing Adventurers Guild towers above this houses. There is sand everywhere, and only a few places have emerald grass, flowers, ponds and gardens of extraordinary beauty with many different plants and sculptures. Everywhere there is the smell of spices, the noise of markets, laughter in taverns, the clinking of blades, and the air is saturated with magic.
Nevertheless, there is gloom, isolation from the world and a huge graveyard, reminding all residents and visitors to the Continent of Galdora that this is not a perfect blooming paradise and how easy it is to lose one's life. That the vast number of graves are but a small fraction of those fallen heroes who gave everything to protect this place, for many of their fellows still walk around as soulless shells, shadows of their former selves. That almost all of the part of the place they call home is a cursed land that will spare no one.
10 notes · View notes
thedawntreaders · 2 years ago
Note
I know this probably seems odd and random but - assuming you read fanfic - what's an area you think hasn't been explored properly, in canon/near-canon/could-be-canon (books)? what would you like to see done that isn't done enough?
(full disclosure: I'm looking for ideas for my next fic xD so I went to see if I can find somebody who has interesting takes, read like one of your posts and went THIS PERSON. THIS PERSON LOOKS INTERESTING.)
Going anon mainly because I like to keep my tumblr separate from my fanfic :)
hope you have a lovely day and that you're not too bothered by this annoying random ask....
ahhhh my first anon, hello hello :D
i do read fanfiction, lots of it, in fact! not to mention i've been a writer for many fandoms as well so i'm familiar with both worlds, thankfully.
as for areas that i would like explored, hm... it really depends on what kind of fanfiction you're writing and where you want it to go. i'll add some stuff that encompasses the book/disney film versions (as those are the only ones i'm familiar with, sorry bbc) i haven't seen as of yet:
the golden age? or the gilded age? (plot intensive) running a kingdom since childhood has its ups and downs and it's nowhere near as golden as narnians make it seem. what i would like to see is the pevensies dealing with the ramifications of what they set up as a government right after they were newly coronated. the court, who they trusted growing up, turns slowly corrupt until there's no one but their original friends (tumnus, oreius, and the beavers) who they can count on. cue assassination attempts, angry mobs of narnians with pitchforks and lit torches, the whole drama! how will the pevensies react? i'd even throw in international opposition for a little bit of Spice™, but that's just me. if you find that you prefer no resistance from outsiders, imagine inner circle nobles showing their true colors and admitting there were no regents appointed for the pevensies because they expected the siblings to mess up so badly to the point someone new would ultimately assume the throne right afterwards. power struggle, baby!
undercover shenanigans (fluff) if you prefer something a little more lighthearted, choose a monarch of your liking and have them go undercover as a civilian and write an adventure for them. will the king/queen be able to pass through town undetected? why did they go undercover in the first place? are they treated the same as any common civilian would be? how do they react? do they run into someone special? is there something that gives away their identity? when this happens, is it to the wide public, or to one individual?
of visions and secrets (angst; reflective) susan was shown to be the only one who wanted to return to narnia rather than chase out the white stag or go past the lamp post in the books; wouldn't it be strange yet interesting if she had a dream of the same sort years ago? you can even build upon this — maybe she had the gift of foresight that followed her back into earth. the catch? she never let anyone know, even her siblings, for it haunted her. maybe she knew that one day she wouldn't be allowed back into narnia, maybe she knew that one day the rest of her family wouldn't be either, and when they try, they'll go past the point of no return. that would explain why she tried her best to regard it as a children's game, to protect herself and the others.
tropes (free for all) modern day au where the pevensies are born around the 21st century rather than the 20th, reverse au where a narnia friend (cough cough cough caspian cough cough cough) accidentally enters the pevensie's world and the siblings have to hide/assimilate the individual to avoid suspicion and panic, detective/spies au where every friend of narnia are somehow related to the private investigating profession and aslan assigns them to uncover jadis "the white witch" charn's crime syndicate and maybe miraz is a mob boss working for her (can you tell i'm freestyling at this point)
i hope this helps give you ideas for your new fanfic! best of luck :)
35 notes · View notes
readyplayerhobi · 4 years ago
Text
Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 02
Tumblr media
; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader
; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut
; Word Count: 6.5k
; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.
; A/N: After almost three months of no writing...I finished this chapter :) I hope you enjoy...please leave me feedback in the form of comments or an ask. The long break has made me worry about a bit about whether people will even read my stuff anymore lol
Last Chapter ; Next Chapter
-
The next two months pass by with only a few growing pains in terms of teaching. You’d discovered pretty quickly that a group of twenty students could easily turn into pure and utter chaos. Particularly when one of them accidentally turns another into a turnip.
That had not been the best first-week experience if you were being honest.
There had been a few minutes when you’d been convinced 
But you were certainly getting used to everything. It was odd being on the other side now, being the one who commanded attention from the students. You had an almost desperate need to be liked by them at first, but the other professors had quickly dissuaded you from that. They were not your friends, and you’d learnt that if you gave them an inch then they’d take a mile.
It had been pleasant though, and you were certainly enjoying everything. There was nothing better than the smile on a student’s face when they got a spell right, with the knowledge that you’d been the one to teach them that. 
The comments you’d been told on your first note about the house stereotypes had also proven to be true. You’d never seen so many Slytherin’s chatting happily with Gryffindor’s and so forth. Whole friendship groups were made up of varying houses and none appeared to be left out. Nor had you seen any house related bullying as there had been in your day.
Once typical insults of a Slytherin being home to a Death Eater had vanished for the most part. The one time you had seen it, hurled by a Hufflepuff of all things, had resulted in complete outrage amongst all the students. It had warmed your heart to see the younger generations working in far better harmony than yours or your previous generations ever had.
Chaeyoung had become the equivalent of your work best friend, bringing her marking over to your office and spending time chatting happily with you. Seokjin had also become a close friend or at least as close as someone could get in only two months. The two of them were fascinating, coming from vastly different lifestyles.
Her family were practically magical royalty in France, though she’d moved to the UK whilst only a child to live with her grandparents after the deaths of her parents. As such, she’d ended up attending Hogwarts and had been in the year below Hoseok. Despite her initial French upbringing, she had no hint of an accent though she’d spouted fluent French to you when you’d queried her language abilities.
She also spoke Spanish, which had led to her initially getting a job as a translator at a magical exporting company. It had amused you thoroughly that it had been based in Devon, along the southern coast of England with France just over the narrow Channel Sea. Chaeyoung had laughed at the time, acknowledging that the mild weather was much nicer than the temperamental mistress you had to contend with here in northern Scotland. 
It hadn’t proven to her liking though, and she’d soon ended up applying for the vacant History of Magic position. She’d been quick to explain that she’d taken up an extra qualification in her chosen area and that she wasn’t just randomly picked. You knew from Jisoo that muggles had a different way to education, but there were no real universities here in the wizarding world. 
Chaeyoung studied hard enough and was very knowledgeable about her chosen area, so you didn’t see too much issue regarding it. And she was a popular teacher, helping to turn a subject that many would often find dull into something fun and interesting.
Seokjin, on the other hand, was older than you. He was 36, with a wife of ten years and two young sons. He’d trained in astronomy in the Ministry and had brought his skills to Hogwarts three years ago. You’d ended up bonding together over your dual experiences in the Ministry; both lamenting over the different departments and positions you’d had yet the same bureaucratic headaches. 
He was a joyful sort with a smile always on his face for you and his students along with a genuine passion for the stars and the universe. You knew that he made it a goal to read much of what the muggles were doing, his fascination with the fact that they’d been to space bordering on an almost obsession.
It was no surprise to you that these have been the two that you had ended up so close with. Both had the experience of working outside of Hogwarts and that seemed to make you all different from the other professors. Everyone else had interned here immediately after finishing before taking on their chosen role.
Jimin came from a long line of auror wizards and witches that stretched back centuries. This meant that he had extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts inherited from their wise teachings. His mother and father still worked in the Ministry, which meant that he’d slipped into the Defence Against the Dark Arts position with ease. 
Which was a good thing as it had remained an awkward position after the Second Wizarding War. It was a role that was often hard to fill as some many witches and wizards felt that it would be best to ignore that the Dark Arts even existed. If no one knew about the Dark Arts, and all the horrific violence and devastation that had occurred with them, then there wouldn’t be any need to defend it. 
That was, of course, a most ridiculous idea and Hogwarts had firmly resisted any such attempts to whitewash both the history and the concept of the Dark Arts. By not acknowledging what happened, and teaching to both understand why it happened alongside how to protect against it, then it would just happen again.
But it remained an exceptionally unpopular position due to the intimate knowledge of the Dark Arts required. To know how best to protect against the Dark spells, you had to know what the Dark spells were. 
You had experienced at least three professors during your tenure as a student.
That had all changed five years ago though when Park Jimin had finally taken over when his predecessor had packed it all in to go and study the famous dragons in Romania. The handsome silver-haired professor was young, but he had won over the staff of the prestigious school with his astonishingly good spellwork.
The fact that he had also made short work of their hearts was because he was also incredibly good looking, much to his benefit when it came to dating you were sure.
Jimin wasn’t just a pretty face though; he was the best dueller in the school. From what you’d been told, he had yet to be bested. Which honestly, was to be expected from someone with such a prestigious bloodline as his.
But not only that, he’d proven to be sweet and kind to his students with a backbone of steel as well. While there may be no true bad blood between houses now, Slytherin still garnered an air of suspicion from other houses even to this day. 
Given the preponderance of dark witches and wizards that the house had produced over the years, it was a well-earnt suspicion, unfortunately. Still, you didn’t believe that the bad decisions and choices made by people long ago should have any bearing on your current students; all of them born long after those terrible events.
Jimin had proven to be an excellent example of why you should never stereotype people based on what others had done. In your opinion, he was an exceptional teacher and had taken on the helm of the Defence Against the Dark Arts role with the clear mindset of not only helping to protect his students but also to try and prevent them from making poor choices.
It was a tough subject to teach as it meant constantly walking a narrow line while also steering students true through narrow and murky waters. There were plenty of students who might find themselves a little too fascinated in the concept of the Dark Arts, after all.
According to Chaeyoung, Jimin tried to combat this by making sure to teach them about the history of the Dark Arts. From what you understood, he held no punches in making sure they all knew the horrific acts of murder and sacrifice that had been committed to preventing students from romanticising a dark part of wizarding history. 
Not only that, but he made sure to teach about the most infamous dark wizards in history; the Death Eaters and Voldemort. This was all to ensure that they did not repeat the mistakes of the past. He took his role seriously, whether it was through spellwork or simply enriching the minds.
Despite his relative youth, you’d come to know him as passionate and hard-working with a true love for his students. Whether they be in Slytherin or Gryffindor. It was just one of the many things that you had come to grow to love about Hogwarts in your short time here so far, the way the school had adapted and grown so quickly.
Hogwarts was a castle that had been built from stone carved centuries ago and housed ancient treasures of the wizarding world, but the Battle of Hogwarts had been a turning point for many. No longer did it constantly look at the past with pure pride, and to many - ignorance, but instead looked to the future as well.
It sought to teach well-rounded wizards and witches that would enrich the community. Which meant it had attempted to modernise itself as much as it could. Of course, it didn’t match the sparkling modernity of steel and technology that the muggle world had developed over the last two centuries but it was improving itself and working to develop new magics that would mirror some of the advancements that the muggles had made.
Perhaps the only thing you’d found a little awkward to embrace was teaching itself. You’d been eager to begin but had quickly realised that teaching was much more complicated than you’d imagined. For all of the good things that Hogwarts was doing lately, it seemed odd to you that they didn’t even bother teaching their professors to teach.
A few discussions with some of the others had revealed that they also had this issue when they’d started. It seemed to have been easier for those who hadn’t spent too much time away from the school after they’d graduated but it had been a long time since you’d been schooled here. Teaching methods had changed and you’d struggled to maintain a healthy balance of actually teaching, answering questions to help students, having open hours to encourage students who were struggling to have extra tuition and finding time to mark the essays that you handed out. 
In short, it had been a very steep learning curve for yourself. Thankfully, your students had given you the benefit of the doubt, which meant they’d been very accepting of any mistakes you’d made. You’d also worked with the other professors to establish a good teaching plan for each of your lessons while also cross-referencing to ensure students weren’t loaded with too much homework.
It was more work than you’d expected, which made you understand how naive you’d been. But you found it to be satisfying work and the reward of seeing students learn and retain their knowledge throughout their lessons was better than anything you’d done in your previous job. And that was to say nothing about the pure wonder and joy on the faces of the first-year students when you had begun their education.
Underlying all of your experiences so far though was one Jung Hoseok. Whilst you’d become quick friends with Seokjin and Chaeyoung, Hoseok was a strange enigma to you. He was friendly and always willing to help you whenever you got confused over something or were feeling a little stressed.
His job as the Care of Magical Creatures professor meant that you rarely saw him during school hours. A large portion of his time was spent outside in the Forbidden Forest or in the custom-built buildings that housed many of the fantastical creatures that he cared for. You knew that he did have a classroom though. It wasn’t anywhere near yours but it held a lot of the smaller creatures that didn’t do so well in the Scottish climate.
Hoseok’s commitment to his job was commendable as he often spent a lot of hours outside. Which meant that as the months slowly shifted to winter, he was finding himself in the cold and rain a lot more often than not.
More than once, you’d spotted him outside when peeking through one of your classroom windows and noted him completely drenched as the rain poured down. It made you cringe each time you saw it, knowing that his robes would be heavy with water. But he never complained about it, even though he was the only professor who also had to work on the weekends.
On top of that, he was also busy with being the Head of Hufflepuff. From what you understood from your talks with Jimin, it meant always being available outside of learning hours for his House students. Whether they wanted to talk about a problem they had or simply needed advice, he was there to help them with whatever they needed.
It also meant that he had to attend every Quidditch game, and you wondered how he managed to cope with such a full schedule. You felt exhausted after a week of just your normal work but knowing how much extra he put in was mind-blowing. 
Despite this though, you’d noticed over time that Hoseok always made sure to be present for every meal in the Great Hall. And much like the first meal you’d shared at the top table, he always sat next to you. You hadn’t thought anything of it until Seokjin had casually mentioned one day while you’d been at Hogsmeade with him and Chaeyoung that he’d never sat in that place before.
His old spot was actually on the other side of the table, next to Taehyung and Jimin. Seokjin hadn’t even thought anything of his comment but it had caused you to pause, wondering why Hoseok had felt the need to change his position. At the time, you’d simply shrugged and pointed out that you’d known him when he was younger and that his sister was your best friend. 
It only made sense that he wanted to be there to help you out and make sure you were okay.
But that excuse started to falter when you thought about the fact that he never mentioned Jisoo to you. Hoseok didn’t mention anything of the past that you both shared. Instead, he would talk about Hogwarts now and your jobs or ask about what life was like at the Ministry when you’d been there. Those topics often led off onto little tangents and you’d both find yourselves chattering away with each other as the meals went on.
The others would get involved too when they could, but there was something...singular about Hoseok’s focus. And that was to say nothing of how he always made sure to walk you back to your quarters after dinner. There was never much talk that happened then, instead, the two of you simply enjoyed the architecture and decoration of Hogwarts as you found different ways to get back, the company exquisite in its silence.
A comfortable silence that you hadn’t found with many other people.
Chaeyoung was convinced that Hoseok liked you. You’d tried to debunk that theory by pointing out that he’d fancied you when he was younger and it was probably just the allure of an older girl who was more accessible to him than others. You were always around given your friendship with his sister and he’d probably just transferred his teenage hormones onto you at the time.
If anything, he was probably embarrassed about how obvious he was back then. Poor Hoseok had never been subtle in anything.
Despite your defence, Chaeyoung had simply given you a look that you hadn’t been able to interpret. Nor did you understand the subtle glances and smirks that she exchanged with Seokjin whenever Hoseok sat next to you at the dining table. It was like there was a silent conversation happening between the two of them about you, only you weren’t included in it.
Thankfully, you weren’t the type of person to be too influenced by other’s thoughts and opinions. So you didn’t let Chaeyoung’s opinion on the subject impact upon your burgeoning friendship with Hoseok. So even though there was a voice in the back of your mind telling you that there was something more, you ignored it and chose not to ruin the fledgeling friendship you had.
You’d felt a sense of relief though that Chaeyoung had been too busy with marking papers to attend dinner last night, which meant that she hadn’t been able to overhear your conversation with Hoseok last night. The two of you had been discussing his lesson plans for the next few weeks and what creatures his students were going to be studying.
He’d suddenly gotten an odd look on his face before grinning. If there was one thing you had learnt upon being back at Hogwarts, it was that Hoseok’s smile was perhaps one of the prettiest things you’d ever seen. Which was why you’d smiled back at him immediately, even though you had no idea what he was so happy about.
But he hadn’t made you wait and had instead asked if you were tonight. You’d acknowledged it and confusion had been written all over your face but he’d just given an enigmatic shrug. All he’d said after that was to meet him at the entrance of the Forbidden Forest an hour after dinner. 
Which was why you were now standing in the dark. Your robes were wrapped tightly around you but it did nothing to stop the way you shivered, jaw tight as a cold wind rushed through the trunks of the trees before you. Part of you wanted to run back to the castle if only to grab your winter coat, but you didn’t want to look like you’d stood Hoseok up. 
Though you did wish he’d turn up quicker rather than later.
Huddling under your cloak more, you clasped the edges together with your hands and pushed it up to cover your mouth and nose. It didn’t do a whole lot against the cold, but it was better than being exposed to it. Even though the wind wasn’t strong, it was still enough to cause your robes to flap, the sound loud against the quiet of the grounds.
The only other sound right now was the wind as it howled through the Forbidden Forest, making the already dark and ominous area look even scarier. Even though you were now an adult, there was an underlying fear of the forest before you. Perhaps it was because it had been firmly ingrained in you as a student that this area was off-limits or something.
Still, you wouldn’t want to go walking around in it on your own anytime soon.
The sight of the trees suddenly moving ahead of you made you gasp quietly, body freezing in position as you squinted to try and see what it had been. You knew that the forest was full of many magical creatures; not all of them gentle and kind.
Swallowing hard, you stayed in place to try and avoid attention, gaze skittering around as you tried to find that shape once more. A branch cracking caused you to flinch, your hands tightening into fists around the material of your cloak and you had to clench your jaw to stop any noise from escaping.
The black shape formed once more ahead of you and you almost shrieked in fright, getting ready to run away until you saw a sudden flash of brighter colour. Frowning, you let your hands unclasp themselves until you realised it was a yellow scarf and realisation flooded through your body.
“Bloody hell!” You cursed, the syllables being spat with indignation. Hoseok looked up in surprise, his own eyes widening in surprise before concern etched itself onto his face when he saw the dual outrage and fear on you. Striding forward, you met him just as he was about to cross over the boundary of the trees onto the grounds of the castle and poked at this chest, a scowl on your face.
“You didn’t think to warn me you were going to be coming from the forest! Merlin’s beard, I almost ran away because I was afraid it was something that was going to hurt me.��� Hissing at him, you realised belatedly that you had to look up to him to do this. Damn him and his growth spurt.
Still, he at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.
“Sorry, I didn’t think it might seem a little scary. I was just coming back from checking on the centaurs; I haven’t been able to meet them in a while and wanted to see if they were okay.” His explanation was logical but it still made you scowl.
“Why aren’t you carrying a light or something?! Do you always just gallivant around the Forbidden Forest in the dark? Aren’t there dangerous things here?” You pepper him with the questions quickly, each one causing his brow to rise higher incrementally. It’s a good job that it’s dark because you don’t notice the way the corner of his lips quirks up in amusement at your tirade.
“I don’t use one in there, not normally. I know my way around very well. I have worked in this forest for years now. But I do have lanterns dotted around in case I need one and I can always use a lumos spell, like now. I figured you wouldn’t want to journey in the dark.” At that, he pulls his wand out of a pocket in his robes and mutters the spell, the tip lighting up with bright white.
Narrowing your eyes at the sudden influx of light, you’re momentarily startled by just how handsome Hoseok looks in the light. It casts an almost blue glow to him, his normally sun-kissed skin looking paler than you’ve ever seen it before. The shadows on his face only serve to highlight the sharp angles of his features while his eyes almost glitter.
It’s only then that you realise you’re staring, quickly averting your gaze away and focusing them on your hands instead. At that moment, another harsh wind blows through and you shiver in response, your shoulders lifting as you try to curl in on yourself.
Gripping your cloak once more, you’re too distracted to notice what Hoseok is doing. The only sign is the light going a little wonky for a few moments before you’re startled by the sudden feeling of softness on your neck.
Letting out a small ‘eep’ of surprise, you jerk away only to see Hoseok staring at you with wide eyes, his scarf no longer wrapped around his neck and instead being held out to you. The Hufflepuff colours look washed out in the odd light and you pause, giving him a confused look as you glance between the scarf and him.
Brows raised, he lifts the item before giving you a slow smile. “You’re cold. You can wear this if you want. It’s not as chilly in the forest but I don’t want you to get poorly because of it. I should have warned you, sorry.”
It seems like all he’s done is apologise so far and it makes you feel bad, causing you to nod your head and take the scarf from him. Wrapping it around your neck, you immediately feel a little warmer and you can’t help but take a deep inhale of the scent woven into the soft fibres. It’s a more concentrated form of what you get to smell every meal time; citrus and something with a slight hint of spice.
For a second, you wonder if it’s a cologne it’s bought himself or if perhaps it’s something a woman bought for him. It suits him, either way.
“Are you ready? You don’t have to come if you’re feeling uncomfortable or anything…” Hoseok trails off, biting his lip in an almost nervous way that makes you feel a little odd. Pushing the thought away, you hum and glance behind him into the forest. Your curiosity was too much and so you nodded firmly, giving him a gentle smile before gesturing for him to start walking.
Without another word, he turns around and begins to walk once more. You notice casually that he’s following a path cut into the forest, the ground level and even compared to the wildness all around you. Alongside the sound of your boots on the dirt, you realise that there are a few other noises all around you.
The gentle hoot of an owl is overwhelmed by a shriek far away, causing a chill to run up your spine. Shuffling forward a little quicker, you almost reach out to Hoseok as a tinge of fear takes over. As if he can tell, he turns around and gives you a concerned look.
“What was that?” Whispering, you glance around and wonder if you should talk loudly. Hoseok looks in the same direction as you do before shrugging slightly.
“Could be anything. This forest is full of creatures, both magical and mundane. Might be a bat or could be something else. Don’t worry though, there’s not usually anything dangerous around this part of the forest. It’s too close to the edge and the creatures that can do the most harm prefer to remain deep within the forest.” It’s almost casual the way he slows to walk alongside you, giving you the safety of his presence but you notice it all the same.
Not that you comment on it, of course. But you appreciate it nonetheless.
Giving him a noncommittal sound, you continue until he takes a sudden turn off the path. The forest floor is dense with foliage and tree roots, causing you to trip a few times. Hoseok helps you along, reaching you to hold your arm to keep you upright when you trip over one too many roots and you get the sense he’s enjoying this.
Maybe it’s because he lets out a soft chuckle when you swear loudly, scowling down at the deeply embedded rock that you’d accidentally kicked. Despite the fact your best friend’s little brother is leading you deep into a scary, dark forest, you don’t feel any concern about him. What could be in the forest, sure, but not him.
He gives off a sense of security that surprises you. All those years ago, Hoseok had been the perfect example of an annoying little brother to Jisoo. Always irritating her and doing things with the sole purpose of being a pain, which in turn meant doing those things to you as well. But now he seemed dependable and you got the sense that you’d want him with you if anything bad happened.
“Okay, we’re almost there. Now, I need you to stay very calm and don’t make any large or sudden movements. You might scare her.” Staring at him in alarm, you suddenly realise that you’ve not even questioned what he’s wanting to show you. Not that he’d have told you, you’re positive of that, but his instructions make you feel a little uneasy.
Upon seeing your face in the light of his wand, he gives a small smile and rests his hand on your arm reassuringly.
“Don’t worry, I promise, you’re going to like this. You’ll understand what I mean.” Frowning at him, you watch as he starts forward once more and realise he’s heading into a little clearing. Sighing deeply, you realise that you don’t want to stand there on your own so you follow him slowly, almost hesitant to see whatever he’s bringing you to.
You swear, if it’s one of those obscenely large spiders that’s supposed to live in this forest then you’re going to jinx him with something he’ll still be suffering from in a year.
The clearing is small and almost circular, though the position of some trees makes it seem a little broken in places. Long grass that is almost bouncy cushions your feet and you wonder if flowers would grow in the daylight, the canopy of trees above broken and allowing more sky through than elsewhere.
During the day it would get a lot of sunlight, but at the moment you couldn’t help staring in awe at the moon as it glowed brightly, it’s full body visible against the black of the sky. A few stars twinkled serenely alongside it, looking peaceful and creating a beautiful image. 
A pale, ghostly colour catches your attention from the corner of your eye and you find yourself pressing to Hoseok a little closer. His back is strong and solid against your hands as you tense in concern, peeking around him to try and catch what it was.
What you see causes you to gasp out loud, letting go of Hoseok’s robes abruptly as you take a wide step away from him to get a better view.
Long, sinewy legs move through the forest in an almost dainty manner, picking their way through the undergrowth with care and precision. There’s almost no sound as the creature moves towards the clearing, only the softest rustle of leaves that can’t be avoided. It’s fascinating how quietly it can move given its size and you wonder if it’s some magical ability that allows that.
Within moments, the shape coalesces into a clearer image as it passes through the edge of the trees on the other side of the clearing. A silver coat practically glows under the moonlight, giving the creature an ethereal feel that makes you feel that it’s not even real. That you’re just seeing an apparition instead of a real animal.
The horn on its head is long and spiralling, ending in a deadly point while the pale white mane and tail flow in elegant waves towards the ground. Golden hooves paw softly at the grass, glinting slightly.
A unicorn.
“Merlin’s beard…” You whisper, pressing a hand to your mouth before looking at Hoseok. “A unicorn...that’s a unicorn!”
They were rare creatures, even rarer now due to being hunted over the centuries by both muggles and wizards. Muggles thought them a myth now while you knew the rumour of the powerful properties that unicorn blood had. You hadn’t even known the Forbidden Forest had unicorns in them.
“It is. I haven’t named her, seems a little wrong to name her. They normally don’t really like men but I found her when she was injured two years ago. She was dying and I helped nurse her back to health. Unicorns have great memories and we’ve kind of become...friends? Or as much of a friend as you can be to one.” He finishes, smiling as he watches the unicorn snort almost in agreement.
Her eyes are a deep black in the moonlight but you note they look almost friendly and kind. Hoseok’s hand on your back pushes you forward slightly, causing you to start and look back at him with wide eyes.
“Move slowly...hold your hand out to her so she can see it and smell it. Be careful and like I said...no sudden moves. You’re a woman so she’s more likely to accept you anyway, but she’ll let you know if she’s not happy.” Gulping, you nod and take a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, you try to stop the trembling in your limbs.
Whether it’s from excitement at finally getting to see your favourite magical creature in the flesh or fear of being gored to death by that dangerous horn, you don’t know. But you follow Hoseok’s words, trusting him to be right.
Slowly, you walk forwards with your hand out, palm side up. Each step you take, you stare intently at the body of the unicorn to try and catch any movement that might be viewed as hostile. Given she had four legs, there was no way you could outrun her but you’d at least like to say you had a head start.
Despite your worry, she makes no threatening moves. If anything, she seems cautiously curious; her ears pricked forwards towards you and her eyes remaining focused solely on you. Not a muscle in her body moves, only the chilly wind blowing through her mane and tail.
Finally, you’re almost within touching distance of her. But instead of carrying on, you stop. Something inside you tells you that it’s a good idea to do that, to let her come to you and accept you. So you remain standing there with your palm held out to her, watching her closely.
Nostrils slightly darker than the rest of her body flare wide a few times, likely taking in as much air as she can to smell you. It isn’t enough though and she slowly extends her neck out, her refined head stretching out until you can feel the hotness of her breath. Not moving, you let her investigate until finally, she takes one careful step forward and presses the velvety softness of her muzzle into your hand.
Smiling, you let her increase the pressure before turning your hand and gently stroking her. There’s a moment of almost curiosity in her eyes, not that you can tell what a unicorn is feeling, before she lets out a huff of air and leans her head into your touch, obviously enjoying the feeling. 
Your smile turns into a wide grin as you run your hand along her face slowly, letting her get used to the feel of you before you gently scratch at her chin. Almost instantly her ears flatten and you feel a pang of panic, but she just lifts her head and lets out a nicker of contentment, giving you a better position.
“She likes you.” You hear from beside you, and you turn to see Hoseok patting the unicorn’s neck.
Turning away from you momentarily, the mare lets out a soft whinny as she looks behind her into the forest. Frowning, you crane your head to try to see what she’s looking at. Soft footfalls being and you look at Hoseok in confusion, tilting your head at the sight of his grin.
Before you can ask him what’s going on, there’s a high pitched neigh and the mare turns her head back to you, butting at your hand gently. Glancing to her side, your jaw drops once more and you can’t help but squeal lightly.
A foal is standing next to her, it’s coat fluffy with baby fur and a beautiful golden that contrasts completely from its mother. There’s no horn on its head, only a tiny nub that will one day grow long and tall. Gangly legs look too long for its body and the short, fuzzy tail make you coo in delight as it flicks it from side to side eagerly, those big eyes staring at you as it almost dances in place.
Looking at its mum, you almost ask for the permission with a hand raised in the foal's direction and you could swear the unicorn almost nods. Slowly, you move towards the foal and stroke along its short neck, marvelling at how soft and fluffy it is. The foal snorts, its entire body wobbling from the movement and you giggle in delight, completely awed by the sight of them both.
“She had this foal only a month ago, so he’s still pretty small. But he’s a sweetheart and so friendly. As you probably know, he’ll keep that gold coat for two years before paling out to silver.” Hoseok says casually, still stroking the mare and smiling at her fondly. 
For a few minutes, you’re too busy playing with the foal to pay attention to his words but they finally sink in.
“What do you mean, as you probably know?” Neither of you had discussed unicorns so far during your mealtime talks, so you didn’t know why he’d think that. Sure, you’d been taught about unicorns in school but that had been so long ago and it hadn’t even been a full class on them. 
Your love of them had meant you’d learnt much more about them, absorbing all the information you could find in books when you were a teenager. The fact that you were finally standing here, stroking not only a unicorn but also her foal was something that you’d always wished you could do. Given how rare they were though, you’d never expected it to happen.
“Well, they’re your favourite magical creature, right? Or they were, anyway.” He frowns slightly, unsure if he’s got something wrong and you simply stare at him for a moment.
Had he remembered that from when you’d been at Hogwarts? Given your love of them, it was only natural that he’d known about them back then given how often you’d spent time at his house to have sleepovers with Jisoo. But you’d have thought he’d have forgotten all about that by now.
Jisoo didn’t even remember this as you’d both grown over the years, the obsession of teenagers mellowing out. Unicorns remained your favourite magical creature, but you didn’t hold that deep passion that you did back then. The fact that Hoseok had remembered stunned you into silence for a moment though, causing you to frown down at the foal.
“Yeah...yeah, they are. I...I mean...thank you. For remembering and showing me this, this is amazing. I’ll never forget this, Hoseok.” You’re not entirely sure how to thank him properly, because you don’t know of anyone else who could show you a unicorn like this.
Before you can say anything else or Hoseok can respond, you’re both distracted by the way the foal lets out a squeal and butts his head into you lightly before jumping away. Taken aback, you watch him for a moment for he does it again, his impossibly slim legs wobbling slightly as he trips on a rock.
“He wants you to play,” Hoseok says softly, smiling as he watches you both. Glancing to him, you raise a brow before grinning back at the baby unicorn. Tilting your head at him, you purse your lips before jumping forward and raising your hands in claw motions. Almost immediately, the foal leaps forward before darting back to you and you giggle, already planning your next move.
Yeah, okay, you might be thirty-three years old...but you were going to play with the baby unicorn.
424 notes · View notes
lesbiansforboromir · 4 years ago
Text
Let me tell you all about a very personally satisfying HC I have that, whilst perhaps explaining some things within the books, is really just for my own enjoyment. 
So, the idea originates in the concept that everyone in the Dol Amrothian line are very spooky. The close elven lineage and living near an old abandoned elven haven had particularly mysterious effects on the whole family. Sure there are Dunadain in Gondor and they can develop certain spooky traits, but the Lords of Dol Amroth start out spooky and usually stay that way. It goes up and down depending on the individual, but generally they are all uncanny at the very least.
Denethor can see into the hearts of men, yeah ok cool I guess. Imrahil goes down to the Dol Amroth harbour at dusk and whispers to the swans until midnight, he answers questions you were sure you did not say out loud, he can make you weep with genuine grief over a sadness he hasn’t even mentioned. Speaking with Finduilas sometimes makes you feel like time passes in an instant, or incredibly slowly, or not at all... except no... really... how much time has passed? Wasn’t it just morning? How is the sun setting already? Or, oh my gosh, I’m going to be late! Or... not..? it’s barely been a few moments, yet I feel like I just lived a lifetime...
Ivriniel insists this is all nonsense, doggedly, she refuses to acknowledge it, no matter how many political rivals raise her considerable ire and come down with a mysterious and debilitating illness the next day. Grandmother Duilindes is just straight up a witch. ‘It’s all for the honour of Eru’ she says placatingly, as she enters her rooms in the Palace that she forbids anyone else from entering.
Denethor had heard these rumours before meeting Finduilas and, sure, he sometimes feels like he is being hunted, only to turn and find Adrahil’s eyes on him. But Dunadain are just a little strange like that! Surely it’s been blown out of proportion. He believes this up until he comes to Dol Amroth as Finduilas’ suitor. 
Denethor: Shall we take a walk after dinner? Everyone looks up from their plates in alarm Adrahil: Are you joking? Denethor: ??? Imrahil: It's the seventh day! The gardens aren't to be disturbed! Denethor, whispering to Finduilas: What does that mean?? Finduilas, chuckling: oh, Denethor! 
He sees Imrahil whispering to the swans at one point and is about to call out to him before Finduilas quickly gestures him silent.
Denethor, whispered: What is he doing? Finduilas: Shh, if the swans hear us we'll surely be attacked. Denethor: But then shouldn't Imrah- Finduilas: SHH.
One evening Ivriniel sweeps in with a stormy countenance, muttering over Lord Garahel’s stupidity. The next morning Denethor hears Imrahil mention that Lord Garahel has been taken ill with some fainting sickness. The look he gives Ivriniel is enough for her to know his mind. 
Ivriniel: Your imagination will run wild Denethor, I had thought you more reasonable. You think I, what? Cursed him? Don’t be ridiculous. Denethor, turning to Finduilas: Do you think... she knows she's doing it? Finduilas: Oh no, in fact she's determined to remain ignorant to it. Denethor: Can you... do that? Finduilas: I havent tried :)
At some point Finduilas had told Denethor that ‘Imrahil is the odd one of the family’ and by the end of the visit all Denethor can think is ‘by what metric??’
Denethor had to admit to himself privately that he was not at all put off by Finduilas’ nature, but he did have cause to worry what their children would be like. Finduilas came across Denethor, early after Boromir’s birth, rocking him to sleep and murmuring softly; 'I may have my failings as a father, I am sure I shall, but I swear they will be honestly meant, I love you so dearly my son... please do not curse me when you are older and I do not allow you everything you ask. I promise I only ever have your wellness in mind.' And she thought it was very sweet and proper, but she didn’t tell him he was wrong! And for very good reason! 
Boromir was an unnerving child. He learned to speak just a little too quickly, and when he did he would often say uncanny things, too knowing things, indecipherable things that became daunting the longer you thought about them. He had such a powerful grasp of complex feeling that he would often solve arguments between adults, explain emotions back at his parents or offer reasons for another child’s behaviour that were so accurate it became uncomfortable. 
3yo Boromir: (explains the reason Denethor’s secretary was distracted that day unprompted) Finduilas: (laughs) yes that's right! Denethor: It's.... TOO right. Finduilas: Oh well children are intuitive aren't they? Denethor, picking Boromir up: ... I feel under qualified to teach you things. Boromir: (baby-giggles but in a like way too knowing way)
And then sometimes Denethor would be sitting reading on a bench on a balcony in the early evening with Boromir contentedly playing with a fiddle-toy beside him, and suddenly his son’s voice would break the silence with; 'When I wasn't here I was colder, so I think I like it here, I'll stay. The air isn't as delicious but there's more to see.'
And then he’d go back to playing as though nothing was wrong whilst Denethor had an existential crisis. 
Denethor: W.. where were you, before? Boromir: Well I didn't know, because I couldn't know, but now I can know things, just not that. I haven't decided if I like it.
He asks Finduilas about it as soon as he can find her and she just laughs, ‘don't worry he'll forget he knows that in a few years’ she says, as though that helps at all.
But in general this is as far as Boromir ventures into the ‘spooky Dol Amroth’ territory. Sometimes he mentions things he CHOSE NOT to do that suggests he is capable of more, but other than randomly forcing Denethor to consider his position in the universe and reading him for shit, the first five years of being a parent is fine for Denethor.
At one point, when Boromir was about two, someone asked Finduilas if they were planning for another baby soon. Finduilas laughed ruefully, as though everyone would know that was a foolish question. ‘Oh no, much too soon for that’ she said. Denethor knew he had to follow up on what the hell that meant later. But when asked, all Finduilas said was ‘Oh you know! If siblings are born too close then they align their powers. Haven’t you heard my father talk about my uncles?’ She says it with the same tone as reading something out of a parenting manual. Denethor doesn’t want to hear about Finduilas’ uncles, but accepts this is important and stops thinking about it.
And it’s a good thing they did wait because, whilst Boromir was unnerving, Faramir is straight up terrifying.
What Denethor realised was that Boromir had been showing restraint. Faramir however was very comfortable with his powers and saw no reason not to use them. Denethor would find himself lost in baby Faramir’s eyes, feeling unable to move simply because of the weight of his stare. Finduilas and Boromir would have to save him from Faramir’s grasp, an act that would make Faramir look very put out. 
If people irritated Denethor when he was holding his youngest son, then just a glance from this child would make them drop whatever they were holding, Faramir grinning victoriously all the while. If Faramir did not want to take a bath then Finduilas would have to be present in case the baby decided to make Denethor relive his entire childhood. 
Sometimes Denethor would come outside to see his toddler just surrounded by the street cats of Minas Tirith, conducting some kind of incomprehensible tribunal that all the cats appeared to abide by. At one point Boromir was holding Faramir when Faramir grasped his brother’s face and pulled so that their eyes locked. Boromir passively held Faramir’s intense gaze for a while in this charged and tense moment, before calmly looking away as Faramir pouted. Denethor once again begged Finduilas to explain, but all she had to give was a fond sigh and a ‘Aw, Faramir just wants to get to know him, but our Boromir is too canny, Ivriniel and I used to do that.’ Denethor is used to helpless bemusement and concern by now. 
Now the SECOND part to this HC- YES I’M STILL GOING, THIS IS ALL IMPORTANT- the second part is that Dol Amrothians ALSO get a kind of ‘choice’. (This is likely not at all canon friendly tbh but uwu I can have a leetle canon noncompliance if it doesn’t effect the vast expansive canon... as a treat) It is far more unconscious and happens in childhood, but there is a point where a child will ‘decide’ to continue being spooky or to be more mundane. This never overrides ALL the spookiness, hence Ivriniel’s intermittent cursing and Finduilas’ occasional time dilation, but Imrahil still out spooks the lot of them. Amongst the family this is known as ‘settling’.
Boromir settles when he is eight. One day he comes to breakfast and Denethor looks into his son’s face and feels like he is suddenly more in the world, more in the moment. Boromir seems as himself as ever, but he makes friends easier afterwards. Whereas he had always been liked, now he is popular and has close relationships with children, rather than always seeming too distant. This also coincides with one of Gandalf’s rare visits. He had been trying to connect with Boromir, trying to engage him on very specific topics. Boromir had not been amused. 
Denethor would never say that Boromir hating Gandalf’s vibes was the reason he settled for mundanity. Boromir had many good reasons, he is sure. But the fact that he chose that moment to settle, so that Denethor was allowed to watch Gandalf also realise that Boromir was no longer ‘apt to his hand’, well he might have gleaned some little pleasure from it. 
The only aspect Boromir retains is his general resistance to such spookiness. Hence his frustration in both Rivendell and Lothlorien, the time distortion of those places not effecting him and the imposed rest not touching him, meaning he feels every passing day keenly. It also explains his resistance towards the Balrog’s doomful presence, as well as his heightened distress at Galadriel’s ability to see into his mind, where he had always been able to defend himself before. 
Faramir on the other hand is seven when he settles, thoroughly content with his spooky powers and wanting even more command over them. It is with this settling that he becomes able to sometimes cause people pain for lying to him. Denethor... struggles as a single father for many reasons.
143 notes · View notes
bookstantrash · 4 years ago
Text
A/N: This is an idea that has been living inside my mind for a really long time and I finally gathered courage to write it. But I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so every time I read and edited it I always found more and more faults in what I had written, so I said “To hell with this, I’m gonna post it before I delete the whole thing”
This ended up being way longer than what I had imagined and I have no idea how I feel about it. So buckle up folks, because this is going to be a ride.
Tumblr media
In which she makes a friend
After almost three months living in Illyria, Nesta could not recall a single conversation that had lasted for more than three minutes or that had been longer than two sentences. Not that she cared much in holding meaningless conversations about the weather and whatnot with the few Illyrians bold enough to talk to her. Because few were those that tried to talk to her, those that were not scared of her, whose voices did not whisper Other or Witch whenever she bothered to leave the house she now lived in.
So when Nesta sat on the lonely stone bench in front the house – the weather had given a break and gone from “insufferable bone cold” to “tolerable chilly” – to try and calm the raging fire in her veins, a sign that her power was trying to break free, a sign that she was close to breaking and destroying everything around her, she was very much surprised to find an Illyrian child walking towards her.
It was not unusual to have a few Illyrians knocking on the door sometimes, given that she now lived with him due to her sister’s order long ago in Velaris. But since her babysitter had gone to Cauldron knows where, to do Cauldron knows what a week ago, no one had come knocking on the door asking for that overgrown bat. Adding the fact that his house was a little secluded from the rest, Nesta could not imagine why that child was coming over.
“Good...good evening” the Illyrian greeted, stopping in front of her.
“He’s not here” Nesta said, eyeing the child in front of her. The boy – Nesta supposed it was a boy, not older than thirteen, with its short cut curly brown hair, bandaged hands, muddied clothes and scar free wings being the only clue she had – shifted nervously on his feet.
“I...I’m not looking for the General” the boy said “I heard there was a Witch living here. I take you are her”
For the second time of that day Nesta found herself surprised. The boy in front of her had called her a Witch in her face, something most did not.
“I wanted to ask for a spell” the boy’s voice had lost a bit of it’s previous nervousness, and he had squared his shoulders, wings slightly flaring “I don’t have much, but I’m ready to give anything in return”
‘You can’t possible have anything to give me’ Nesta thought, glancing at his ripped and dirty clothes.
“I’m no Witch” Nesta said, getting up and turning her back at the kid, making for the house’s door “Go back to your parents”
~•~
The next day, when Nesta was coming back from a walk in the woods – there was something about the ancient trees and the wilderness that helped her control her inner turmoil — she was baffled to see yesterday’s boy waiting for her.
“I’m sorry for yesterday” the boy blurted out before she could send him away “I didn’t want to offend you. I’m Kaelin”
Nesta’s only answer was a blink.
“I...I only said you were a Witch because that’s what the others said you were” Kaelin’s ears turned pink, no doubt embarrassed to admit listening to gossip.
“I don’t blame you” she said, and Kaelin’s eyes lit in surprise.
No. Nesta did not blame the boy for thinking her a Witch. Because long ago, before the war, before the empt void inside her was as big as the ocean, before she heard her father’s neck crack, she had declared to that annoying camp lord Devlon that she indeed was a Witch. But now, even though her powers were as loud as a beast’s roar in her ears, she did not want to touch them. Could not touch them.
And nothing, not even the hopeful look in Kaelin’s light brown eyes, would make her touch the wild beast that lived within her. She would not give the boy false hope. She would not fail another child. Not again. Not ever.
“If you have problems maybe you’d better tell your parents about it, instead of reaching for witchcraft”
After all, even thirteen year old Illyrians must have foolish mistakes that they would rather not tell their parents about.
“I don’t have parents. At least not anymore” Kaelin’s hard and sorrowful voice was enough to make Nesta resist prying further into his problem.
“I see” was the only thing she said, and she once again turned her back at him, entering that lonely and sad cabin, even though she was feeling rather inclined to talk, a feeling she had not felt for the longest time.
~•~
Kaelin appeared on Nesta’s door three days later, with a black eye, bruised cheek and a split lip that didn’t stop him from smiling and giving her something wrapped in brown paper.
“I thought about it and I realised that my apology was lacking” he started talking non stop, not giving Nesta a chance to say anything except gape at him and the gift on her hands “Father always said to treat everyone nicely, unless they were rude to you. He said it was what mother believed in”
Nesta could only nod and unwrap the paper to discover a pair of gloves.
“Did you steal them?” She asked, connecting the dots between the gloves she held — surely way out of the kid’s status of affordable — and his beaten face.
“No!” Kaelin replied, a bitterness in his voice “I know I’m just a lowly orphan but I’d never take something from another one in such an unhonoured way”
Nesta just grossed her arms, waiting for his explanation.
“One of the boys from the high families arrived at training with new boots” he gave a sly smile “I fought him for them”
“You did what?” Nesta’s voice rose and she was holding herself back from shaking the boy until he was back into his right mind.
“Fighting between Illyrians is not prohibited. But it’s best if you don’t get caught” Kaelin replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Nesta felt her temper rising.
“You. Come with me” she grabbed Kaelin’s arm and took him inside before he could protest.
She made him sit on sofa in the living room while she went searching for the medic supplies she was sure Cassian had. Once she found it, she went back to Kaelin and started treating his cuts, mumbling the entire time about how stupid and reckless boys were.
“This is nice” he said, wincing slight when Nesta touched his bruised cheek.
“What is nice?”
“Having someone take care of you” he answered “I... I didn’t know my mom. She died shortly after I was born. Father said she was quite fragile”
Nesta trying to not let show how his words affected her. She remembered another woman, dying in a lonely bed just a few years after her youngest child had been born.
“He died in the last war. Against Hybern” he practically spat the late king’s name, hate filling every syllable.
Nesta finished treating him and started organising the materials, to keep herself busy and have an excuse to buy time to know what to answer him. She had never been good at consoling others. And she didn’t know why, but she was afraid her bluntness would end up hurting Kaelin.
“He was a hero” he said firmly, his eyes shining with defiance “He may have been just a mere foot soldier but he was at the front line, keeping Hybern’s forces back”
“I’m sure he was” Nesta replied, trying not to think about who may have said otherwise to him, hurting a child who had nothing “But would he like to see his son picking meaningless fights?”
“It was to get you a gift” Kaelin looked down and poked at the sofa “I’m sure he’d have understood. Besides, I have to fight and stand out if I want to have a shot at the Rite”
“You mean the Blood Rite? I thought everyone participated” Nesta had gathered little information about the Illyrians for the time she had been living in Illyria. There were no libraries, no bookstores, and the books Cassian had about the Illyrian culture and history were scarce and outdated.
“The very one. You are not obligated to become a warrior, but that’s the path most of male Illyrians take. Not that we have many options to begin with” Kaelin’s voice had became serious “Most of the males from the richer families are bound to participate, but the rest.... we end up being mere foot soldiers. Expendable. So no point in making us take part in it.”
At his words, Nesta could not help but think about Cassian. He too was an orphan but had risen to be Rhysand’s Commander and had seven siphons. From what she had heard and seen at the war, that was rather unusual.
“It’s worse for females” Kaelin added quietly.
She knew that. Saw how females were treated on the rare times she got out of the cabin. A scarce number trained. And she did not know a lot about training, but was sure it was not near enough to make them part of the Illyrian army. Or even defend themselves were the worst to happen.
Nesta opened her mouth to say Cauldron knows what — she had to say something, she could not let the boy leave with such dark thoughts — when a loud noise interrupted her.
It was a sound Nesta knew quite well from her time as a human living in a shabby cottage.
A sound she had become reacquainted with after being Made. After that day at the battle field.
The sound of hungriness. The sound of someone who was starving, and had been so for quite a while.
And it was coming from Kaelin.
The Illyrian boy beside her blushed a deep scarlet, trying — and failing — to come up with an excuse. But Nesta knew better. She knew the signs of starvation. Saw them in herself. Had seen it in her younger sisters, when they were not older than Kaelin.
Thin wrists. Sunken eyes. Cheekbones way too sharp. Up close Nesta could properly examine Kaelin and notice that the boy was all bones and little muscle, his skinny built not a consequence of slow metabolism to gain weight, but rather the fact that he did not have enough sustenance to make it possible.
“I have way too much food stocked here. I was supposed to be living with an adult warrior that can eat for five people “ Nesta began, cutting Kaelin’s blabbering “It would be a crime to let it all get wasted”
Leaving him no window to reply, she took hold of his arm, hauling him towards the kitchen and making him to sit down while she gathered whatever food she came across. And she had enough fire in her eyes — she may or may not have lost a little bit of control of her powers due to her racing emotions — that Kaelin did not dare say a word, but just sit quietly and eat what was put in front of him.
~•~
Nesta’s routine had suffered a slight change after that evening. For the past month and a half, Kaelin had been having a meal with her after his training. Every day.
She had made sure to make it clear that she was expecting a visit from him after his activities were over.
He did not dare argue with her.
Today, however, was an unusual day.
Kaelin was late.
Almost two hours late.
Nesta had come to know Illyrian boy better, and one thing she learned about him was that he detested to be late. For him, his promises and commitment were everything, reminding her of another Illyrian she knew – which had not come back in two months. Not that she missed or was worried about him.
She tried and failed to convince herself that Kaelin may have been held back by training. But she did not know why she felt a strange feeling. Her powers were restless, more so than usual.
The air and the trees around her seemed different.
She felt it deeply in her bones.
As if the Cauldron itself — hidden far far away in a island that did not exist in any map ever written — dreaded whatever future thread the Mother was knitting.
As if something had been woken.
As if the winds of change had gone from a light breeze to a tornado, ready to wreak havoc in Illyria.
Nesta could not hold herself back any longer. She needed to know what was happening. To know if that strange song that spoke of a power strong and ancient was connected to Kaelin tardiness.
So into the woods she went.
She walked and walked, until the song in her ears got louder and a new sound appeared, a sound she would not be able to hear were it not for her fae ears.
The sound of someone whimpering.
Quickening her steps, Nesta followed the cries of pain until the wall of trees around her gave way to a small clearing.
And there, lying curled up in a ball, was Kaelin.
“KAELIN!”
Nesta ran towards him, falling on her knees beside his body.
“What happened? Did somebody hurt you?” she smelled blood, and feared the Illyrian whose boots he had “won” had gone after him for payback.
Her mind was racing, her thoughts overlapping themselves. She recalled another winged body, laying on the ground. She recalled another child, crying in pain due to its empty stomach, who had not seen food for weeks.
She would not fail anyone ever again. That had been her promise to herself.
“Kaelin...” Nesta slowly touched his arm, trying to soothe him “Talk to me. Tell me where it hurts”
Kaelin whimpered, slowly uncurling his body and tucking his wings. He clutched his abdomen, and Nesta dared to try and touch her power.
She would touch that dangerous beast if that meant she could help the young boy in front of her.
And so she tentatively reached inside herself for that source, trying to recall if any training she’d had with Amren may assist her in the current situation.
She scanned Kaelin’s body, and that’s when she noticed the small drops of blood beneath him. But her powers had not detected any wounds. No, he was not hurt.
However, she finally found the origin of the bleeding. And Nesta momentarily lost her breath.
Because she knew the reason why Kaelin was in pain.
“You are not a boy” she breathed.
Kaelin was a girl.
A girl who had had her first period.
A girl who was passing as a boy. Training like one.
And when Kaelin finally meet Nesta’s eyes, brown eyes shining with tears, she cursed the Mother for whatever future thread she had knitted.
Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth
198 notes · View notes
babeyvenus · 3 years ago
Text
The Wolf Among Us
Bigby x OC
Tumblr media
Summary: Sonya Blaze, A.K.A. Hell Rider, is a half fable, half mundy girl who comes to Fabletown to learn more about her side of the folktales. She works alongside Sheriff Bigby Wolf's as his newest partner and together they strive to find out who's behind the unexpected murders in Fabletown.
TW: Mentions of death, gore/blood, alcohol, smoking drugs, sex implications, suicide, guns and ofc language.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Chapter 12: Witches and Bloody Who?
1284 White Plains Ave
2:14 AM
14 minutes late
“Bigby! Sonya!”, Snow shouted, catching up with the two as they walked down the hall. “We’re late.” Snow said.
“Yeah, we know.”, Bigby said as they walked up to a door with the number 23. “This is it.”, he said as the three of them stood in front of the door. “Alright. How do you want to do this?”, Snow asked them. “We’re not storming inside, that’s for sure. We have no idea who this A.G. person is.”, Sonya said.
Bigby puts his ear on the door to listen for anything. “Anything?”, Snow asked him. “If anyone’s in there, they’re being awfully quiet….”, he says and knocks on the door. Right after, the door opens to reveal a little girl in a yellow dress and her black hair in pigtails. “Hello?”, she greets, drowsily.
Sonya covered her mouth at the sight of the little girl as the other two stared in shock. “Hi…” Snow greeted. “You woke me up.” The girl said. “Uh, sorry about that.”, Sonya said, kneeling to her height. The little girl rubs her eyes. “Sorry, there. Wasn’t aware this was a munchkin’s house.”, Bigby says, making the little girl make a confused face.
“Well, Dorothy, it isn’t.”, she responded with a smile, making Sonya snort. “She got you.”, Sonya says, making Bigby give her heel a nudge. “If I wasn’t so secure in my manhood, I’d have taken that as an insult.”, he says, smiling. The little girl giggled.
“What’s your name?”, Sonya asked. “Rachel. Who are you?”, the little girl responded.
“Well, I’m the Sheriff. And this is my partner,” Bigby started but Snow cut him off. “Uh, boss.” Snow said, annoyed. Bigby frowned at her, “I was referring to Sonya.”, he said, hushed. “Pleased to meet you. How do you do? Is there….Is there anything you need?", Rachel says.
"Is anyone at home? Does your mom live here?”, she asked her. “Does she ever…you know, make the nightstand levitate? Turn frogs into cats, that kind of thing?”, Bigby asked her.
“Is she a witch, dear?” Snow corrected. “Oh no, I would never call my mommy that. She treats me alright.”, Rachel says with a head nod. “Rachel, do you mind if we take just a quick peek around?���, Bigby asked.
“What are we looking for, specifically?”, Snow asked Bigby. “Crane. He could still be here.”, Bigby says, sniffing around the room. Sonya looked at the huge tree in the room. “This is ginormous for a house plant…”
“We’ll be super quick, and we won’t touch anything.”, Sonya said to Rachel and walked past her, looking around the cramped living area. “I’ve been here all night! Nobody’s been here!”, Rachel shouts at the three adults.
Bigby glances at her with a raised eyebrow. “Ok, Sheriff, I’m gonna trust you not to break anything…don’t get me in trouble.”, she huffs.
She glances at the record player and looks at Rachel. “Lemme guess, big band or...classical?” Rachel smiles, “Honky Tonk.”
“No accounting for taste….”, Bigby mutters, making Sonya gape at him and tap his arm a bit, earning a smile from him. He looks at a picture. “That your mom?”, he asked. “Uh huh.”, Rachel said, proudly.
“It’s pretty rare to see a burner like this.”, Sonya says, crouching down with a content smile. “Dowdy. That’s how we like it.”, Rachel grins.
Bigby sniffs around again. “Not here.”
“Your mom a hunter?”, Bigby asked as he looked at the deer skull. “Oh, no, she’d never…that was found in the woods around Dix Mountain. I think.”, Rachel responds.
“Why does she have such a huge tree?”, Sonya asked as Bigby turned to look at the tree. “Mommy uses that to carve her trinkets. It’s from the old world.”, Rachel says excitedly. “Trinkets? Like glamours?” Snow asked her, making her shrug.
“There’s no one here but me.”, Rachel repeats.
Bigby walks back over to the divider and looks behind it but sees nothing. “There’s nothing that looks like Crane was here, either.”, Bigby said.
��Great...”, Sonya mutters. “See?” Rachel said, smirking.
Sonya goes to the back of the room and sees a closet door. She opens it and sees a box with a label.
Deliver to Aunty Greenleaf
Return Address The Butcher
“A.G….”, Sonya steps back to look at Rachel. “Your mom’s Aunty Greenleaf?” She nods.
Bigby walks over to her. “The Butcher.”, Sonya muttered. “What?”, Bigby asked. “A package having to do with someone called The Butcher.”, she says, closing the door.
“Damn it.” Bigby mutters, shaking his head as if he was trying to get something off his face. “I keep getting whiffs of that aftershave of his.”
“Is that a glamour tube?”, Bigby asked, making Sonya and Snow stop. “Mommy really doesn’t let anyone play with that. Trust me, I’ve tried.”, Rachel warned.
Sonya sniffed in the air, frowning a bit. “I do, too.” Snow nods, “Me too.” Rachel rubs her eyes. “Can I go to bed now? Please?”
Sonya yawned. “It is pretty late…”, she said and started to follow Snow, who walked towards the door. Rachel follows, along with Bigby, but he stops once he notices a glamour tube on the work table.
Bigby walks up to the table and picks up the tube. “Oh, no no no no no, please please please just put that back exactly where you found it. No one is allowed to play with that.”, Rachel said, her eyes widening. “It’s alright, honey, Bigby’s not going to break it.”, Snow reassured her.
“No, you don’t understand. She will freak out if she discovers I’ve let people in here and let them touch her stuff, okay? She checks all the time to see if things move. I don’t wanna get in trouble.”, Rachel said, fearfully.
“I’m not gonna break it, I just want to open it.”, Bigby said, and started messing with the tube. “No! Put it down!”, Rachel shouted. Her fearful scream caused the room to shake which made Sonya and Snow look at her then at Bigby. “You’re pissing her off.”, Sonya mouths to Bigby. Snow holds Rachel back. “Please! Don’t! This isn’t what you think! You’ve gotta believe me, that guy isn’t here! I promise!”
“It’s gonna to be okay, Rachel.”, Sonya reassures her as Bigby starts to mess with the tube again, curious this time. “Please. I’m begging you. I don’t wanna…I don’t wanna get in trouble.”, Rachel begged sadly.
Bigby opens the tube, causing Rachel to scream in pain and transform into an old woman, “Auntie Greenleaf.”, Snow says in shock.
“It hurts…when you do it that fast.”, Greenleaf said, irritated as she rolled her shoulders. “You think we have time to waste on this shit?” Bigby asked, angrily, storming up to the woman. “You think this is some kind of game?”
“No. I don’t. But congratulations on winning it…if that matters to you.”, Greenleaf says, sarcastically.
“Look, now. We don’t have time. Start explaining! And from the beginning. ” Sonya says, crossing her arms as the old woman walks over to her couch and sits down. “I was born in the woods to a jackal and a deer….” Greenleaf started to explain but Sonya cuts her off, looking at Snow. “She thinks we’re joking around. You better get her.”
“Please, Greenleaf. Just help us catch Crane. That’s all we care about.” Bigby said, exasperated. “That’s not all we care about.”, Snow tells him, angrily. “I ain’t a fortune teller, Wolf. I have no heavenly idea where he went.” Greenleaf shrugs.
“You have to know something.” Snow said.
“You’re an accomplice to a goddamn murder, do you not realize that?”, Sonya fussed. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t help you. I have no interest in being turned into a skink and crushed under boot heels. There’s powers at work here beyond your pathetic authority.”, Greenleaf says.
“Whatever it is, Greenleaf….whatever it is that’s keeping you from saying something?” Snow said.
“We can protect you, okay? Whatever it is you’re afraid of….we can make sure that it won’t come to pass.” Bigby says, reassuring her. “You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” Greenleaf asked, making Sonya sigh harshly. “Y'all keep saying the exact same shit. We’re asking questions so we can know. We want to help.”
“Okay, you know what I think? I think we’ve been more than patient with you.” Snow said, angrily, storms up to Sonya and Bigby. “This witch has been selling illegal glamours that continue to undermine everything we’ve built….she’s harboring a fugitive that took advantage of it, and now she’s resisting every attempt to make things right. I frankly don’t give a crap if she’s afraid for her life, we can at least make sure she never hurts us again.”
She walks up to the tree and looks at it before she says. “We’re destroying the tree.” Sonya’s eyes widened. “Now, hold on-”
Greenleaf abruptly stands up and shouts. “No!”, she yells, causing the room to shake. Sonya stumbles to a knee, looking up at Greenleaf as she looks between the other three in anger.
“How dare you come in here and threaten to take from me the one thing that-” She takes a breath. “That tree is ancient, it’s part of the family, and it’s the only thing paying for this shithole apartment! And the Fables who can’t afford the glamours from you come to me for help. Without them, where do you think they could go?”
“Don’t give me that! You’re making money off of other peoples’ misery. Two Fables are dead because of this crap!”, Snow shouts, turning to Bigby and Sonya. “It’s too dangerous leaving this stuff with her.”
“You think I like being the old woman in these stories? The men are heroes, the ladies are whores…and the old hags like me get to watch everyone they love die!”, Greenleaf growls
Snow was about to say something but Sonya cuts her off. “Hear me out. You aren’t exactly in any position to want to destroy someone’s work, okay? Hell, I’m the one who should want her tree to burn but I won’t.”, she says, looking at Greenleaf. “There’s a better way to handle this.”
“We have very different ways of handling our fate.”, Snow said. “Very different means to handle it, too.” Greenleafs retorts.
“We’re not burning the damn tree.”, Sonya says, making Snow and Bigby turn to her.
Snow looked at her in shock. “You want this to continue?” Sonya hardened her look. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I said there is a different way to handle this.”
Bigby walked up to the tree. “Sonya’s right. Isn’t there another way? She’s a witch, can’t she just….work for us? That way she’d be official….”
“You want to reward her for criminal behavior? We can’t trust this woman on the Thirteenth floor.”, Snow said.
“It doesn’t matter cause I’d never do it. I’m not a house cat and I don’t play well with others.” Greenleaf said. “Oh, trust me, no one would confuse you for a cuddly animal.” Snow sneered at the witch. Greenleaf glares at her, making Snow turn to the other two. “Bigby, Sonya….this is an order. Burn the tree.”
Greenleaf runs in front of the tree and confesses. “No! Look, look, I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you…Crane was here, he was here and he left. He went to the Pudding n’ Pie to try to use my ring on the girls over there to get information.”
“What does the ring do?”, Sonya asked her.
“He thinks it’s the Ring of Dispel….you know, that it will pierce the protection around the girls’ speech. He says pulling the truth out of them will prove his innocence. It won’t, though….damned thing lost its power decades ago.”, Greenleaf informed.
“I’m sorry, but….we still can’t let you keep the tree. It wouldn’t be right after what’s happened.” Snow said. “Guys?”
“Please, Sheriff...Deputy….”, Greenleaf begs, looking at them sadly. “We’re not burning the tree.”, Sonya says.
“Today is your lucky day, Greenleaf. I’m hiring you as the Business Office’s newest witch in residence.” Bigby said.
“Bigby!”, Snow shouted in disbelief.
“The witches over there will keep her out of trouble, and–and we have a glamour shortage as it is. It makes the most sense, Snow.”, Bigby explained.
“Snow, people are out there without glamours. If anything, she can help us since apparently giving glamours aren’t working without her help. Because Toad still hasn’t gotten his, right?”, Sonya asked Bigby. “Just because you’re disappointed with Crane’s actions, doesn’t mean we have to punish her for his bullshit.”
She turns to Greenleaf. “You’re working with the other witches.”, she says, finally and walks to the door. “Don’t expect me to bow down to your queen over here.”, Greenleaf said to her. Bigby sighs, walking next to Sonya. “Don’t think for a second that this is over.” Snow threatened, following the other two.
“So what, are moving trucks gonna show up here or something?”, Greenleaf asked. “Something like that.”, Snow said. “We’ll call you.”, Bigby says and opens the door and lets Sonya and Snow out first before he leaves.
The cab pulls up to the curb of the Pudding n’ Pie, and hurriedly, Sonya and Bigby climb out. “I suppose you two can handle this. Get Crane and bring him back to the Woodlands.” Snow ordered before rolling the window up and letting the cab drive off.
“For fuck’s sake…”, Sonya grumbles. Bigby looked over and saw a familiar car. “That’s Crane’s car.”, he said, catching her attention. “Let’s go.”, she says, rushing to the door.
“No, it’s nothin’ you need to concern yourself with. I don’t think so, at least.”, they hear Georgie say pacing and talking on the phone. Georgie sees the two and rolls his eyes.
“Shit. Hold on.” He said to the phone and he removed the phone from his ear. “What do you want, Sheriff? Decided you wanted a taste of the wares?"
He glanced at Sonya with a smirk. "Oh, I see…come to audition your bitch.” Before Bigby could retaliate, Sonya socked him square in his nose. “We don’t have time for bullshit, Georgie.”, she growled.
“Tell me what you know! Now!” Crane’s voice shouts from the dressing room. Sonya and Bigby glare at Georgie, who gives a wavering shrug.
Sonya shoulder checks him as they rush to the door. “Hey! You can’t just go in there!” Georgie shouts after them, getting ignored.
They see Crane shaking Nerissa by her shoulders as he shouts. “Tell me who did it! Just tell me who did it, I know you know!”
“Mr. Crane, please, she can’t help–”
“I know you know what the plan is.”, Crane yells at Nerissa. Bigby glares at Crane, his teeth bared. “I won’t be held accountable for this!” Crane shouts. “I can’t-I can’t–I’m sorry, I-” Nerissa said, panicking.
Bigby storms up to Crane, spins him around and grasps the front of his shirt, raising his right hand into a fist. “Oh my God! Bigby!”, Crane exclaims, surprised to see him. “Wait!!”, Sonya yelled at Bigby. He looks over at her then lets Crane go.
Crane steps back, his hands raised. “I-I didn’t do anything! I promise you, I didn’t do anything! These girls— th-th-the girls, they’ll back me up, I j-just have to get this stupid ring working, that’s all!”, Crane explained, shaking his right hand that had a ring on his ring finger. “They can’t talk because of that spell, but once this ring gets through, I’ll know what’s going on and this whole thing will be over.”
“Th-That’s all, please. I’m innocent, completely, completely innocent!”, Crane exclaims. Bigby rolled his eyes and slapped Crane, leaving a large, red handprint on his face.
Crane cowers back and yells, “W-Wait, I’ll show you!” He raises his arm while Bigby holds him back, effortlessly. “Damn you, c'mon! Please! Tell me who killed her!”, Crane shouts as he points his arm towards Nerissa.
“My lips are sealed.”, Nerissa replied as Vivian held her. Crane crumbles to the ground and begins to weep in sadness and fear. “How long?”, Sonya asked Crane. “W-what?”, Crane asked, looking up at her. “How long has this been going on?”, she growled out her question. “Far too long...” Crane replied, looking away.
“But–I didn’t kill those women, Bigby, please, I had nothing, nothing to do with that. I just—I-I just….Oh God…”, Crane cries. “We found the photos of you and Lily.” Bigby said, crossing his arms with a glare. “I know, I know, but that’s—that was–I just…” Crane whimpers then he looks up at Sonya.
“I just love you, Sonya! I love you, I love you, and—and I’m sorry I’m not a mundy, okay!?”, Crane grovels as she stepped back. “I’m sorry I don’t do things that Mundies do! Its just- You’re so different and innocent! To know you were a half fable excited me, and I-”
Sonya had to stop herself from gagging. “I’m gonna stop you right there. What made you think that I’d ever get with an old creep like you!? And secondly, you’re not so different from Mundy men. This stalking, the pretending, they do that too. You’re fucking disgusting.” Her words made her lower his head.
She squatted down to glare at him. He looks her in the eyes for a moment then turns away to weep silently, making her eyes widen. She stood back up. “Bigby…I don’t think he did it."
"You’re shitting me, right?”, Bigby asked, shocked and confused. “The guy’s a complete coward. Look at him. Do you really think this man-" She paused. "Lemme rephrase that. Do you really think this child murdered these women?”, she asked him as she pointed at the sad man.
“He’s not…he wouldn’t be brave enough….”, she said, glaring at Crane.
“We’ve been chasing this guy ….why now?”, Bigby asked. “That’s my point. He sent us on this wild goose chase, pretended not to know anything, and cowered away the entire time. If he really was a stone cold murderer, he wouldn’t be here freaking out.”, she said.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Did you see how he was acting when you showed up?” Vivian asked her.
“Yeah, I get it–”
“Why would he even come here if he wasn’t covering his tracks?” Vivian asked.
“He thought he was being framed. And maybe he is.”, Sonya replied.
“This fuck-up knows more than he’s saying.”, Bigby said. “I don’t! I don’t!” Crane shouts. “Yes, okay, he probably does. But there’s a difference between being involved and being the guy who did it.”, Sonya says, shaking her head.
“Okay, but if Crane didn’t kill Faith and Lily, I’m sorry, but who the hell did?”, Vivian asked. “This whole thing is bigger than Crane. He wouldn’t have the stones to send the Tweedles after us. Somebody else is involved.”, Bigby said. “Well, shit.”, Vivian mutters.
“I didn’t intend for any of this to get so–”
She took a deep breath. “Ichabod Crane. You are under arrest for disrupting Fabletown's funds and the suspicion of murder. You’ll have the right to counsel and the right to depose witnesses. But as of right now, you’re coming with us."
“I don’t wanna hear your weak ass apologies. You’ve done so much screwed shit, you’re lucky you’re not down that damn well!”, Sonya yelled.
He looks at her fearfully then lowers his gaze to the floor. “We’re not going to kill you. So quit your shivering.”, she growled.
Sonya glanced at her boss. “Easy, Bigby. We don’t need the princess to have another thing to hold above our heads.”, Sonya rolls her eyes, making Bigby glance at her with a softened frown.
"You are extraordinarily lucky Miss Blaze was here to save your ass. Because if it was up to me….I’d have your head swinging from the Washington Bridge.”, Bigby snarled.
“You think…she has what it takes…to run that office? You think I didn’t make sacrifices? I made sacrifices! And Miss Snow won’t be in that chair one minute before she has to give up something she cares about just so the wheels don’t fall off the goddamn wagon.” Crane stands up and continues to fuss. “I did the best that I could with what I had. And the town took everything it could out of me. If I maybe took a little something back in return…then so be it. I have no regrets.”
Sonya frowned. "You took more than just a little. You went to a man who now gives you no choice but to pay him back or people get killed. That's not a little thing." Crane's eyes widened. "But-"
“Yeah, and see, the thing of it is….” Bigby starts, and grabs Crane’s collar, pulling him closer to him. “We’re also better at this than you are.” He turns Crane towards the door and pushes him forward.
They went through the side door, out to the alley. Sonya sighs, pulling her hood over her head as it was raining again. Crane walks out after her until Bigby shoves him off the stairs. Crane falls on the ground. He stood up and dusted himself off and muttered. “Stupid girls and their preposterous schemes….”
Sonya paused to glare at him over her shoulder. “You got something you wanna share?” Crane cowers and walks in front of her and Bigby. Suddenly, a car drives up and blocks their way out. The three of them looked at the cars in shock and stopped as the car started to slowly drive towards them.
“Back. Now.”, Bigby says as he holds his arm out, pushing her behind him. She walked around the other way with the two men only for two more cars to come up and block them.
They stop as the Tweedles climb out of one car while a woman, with short black hair with red highlights, climbs out of another car.
“Hi. Whatcha got there?”, The woman asked in a childish tone. Sonya's eyes began to glow a scarlet hue as the Tweedles pulled out their shotguns. Bigby growled lowly, watching them intently.
The woman pulls out a gun and loads it. “Look, it’s recently come under our attention that you’re, how shall I put it, attempting to claim what is the personal property of the Crooked Man.” She gives them a slight smile. “He’s about yea high, a hundred and twenty odd pounds, pissed his sheets until he was fourteen….sound familiar?”
“I haven’t told them anything!”, Crane cried in fear. “Not now, not now, shhhhh, the grown ups are talking.”, the woman says, mockingly.
“Who are you?”, Bigby asked her.
“No, no, no, no, no, that’s not how this works.”, The woman said, mockingly as if she were talking to children. “How this works is you are going to walk Crane over here….like a good doggie.”
“It wasn’t my fault!”, Crane exclaims. Sonya growled and punched him in the stomach. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth.” She steps up to Bigby’s side. “You’re interfering with official Fabletown business. Step aside.”
“Tweedle Dee, what’s the, uh, y'know, that thing the mundies call me?”, she hummed. “Wh–What?”, Dee asked in fear. “My nickname. You know what I’m talking about.” The woman said as she gave a side glance at Dee.
“Uh…Bloody Ma–”
“Bloody Mary, that’s it. Thank you.” Mary said, making Sonya’s eyes widen.
“And do you know why they call me that? Because some of them, they think it’s funny to have their little sleepovers and go into their little bathrooms and say my name five times in the mirror." She frowns.
"They find it less funny when I actually show up and feed their lungs to the family dog.” She lets out a small bark and smirks evilly at Sonya and Bigby.
Sonya gritted her teeth, “This night just can’t get any better.”, she muttered.
“And I do that for a hobby. Like golf, to relax. This is my job, I like my job. So think about what I’m gonna do to you, your girl, your princess and the rest of your friends if you don’t hand over the sockpuppet now!”, Mary said to Bigby.
“This was really the wrong day to try and pull this shit.”, Bigby growled.
“I told you he’d never just give him up.”, Dee smiled at Mary. Mary glared at him then looked back at the other three and shrugs. “Fuck it.” She walks away while the Tweedles step forward and raise their guns.
“Oh boy…”, Sonya muttered and was suddenly pushed out of the way once the Tweedles started shooting, missing Bigby purposefully before loading him with buckshots.
Bigby was pushed back until his back hit the wall and he slumped down. The Tweedles stopped to smirk at each other much to Sonya’s horror. She teared up. “B-Bigby?”, she whispered.
Bigby moves his head as he lets out a groan. He opens his eyes which were now red as he slowly gets up on his feet, shocking the twins. Bigby begins walking towards the Tweedles as they fire multiple bullets at him until one bullet hits Bigby's side, making him lean against a box as he regains his composure.
He falls to his knees only to get up, now transformed as a gray wolf. Bigby reaches to his left and grabs the dumpster and throws it at the twins. They fall and dodge the dumpster and get back up while Bigby goes to the right and grabs the high voltage container and throws it at them.
They dodge that as well and Bigby uses that as a chance to charge at them and jumps on Dum. He shoves his clawed hand into Dum’s chest and slams him in the air conditioner box multiple times. Dee shoots Bigby in the back, making him slowly turn to him and drop Dum.
Bigby back hands him hard and grabs him to look over at Mary, who was leaning against one of the cars with a smirk. Bigby throws Dee at her but she moves, causing Dee to hit his car. Mary stands there unfazed.
Dum goes to hit Bigby with his gun but Bigby grabs the gun, throwing it away. He grabs Dum and slams him against the wall and holds him up.
“Fuck….you….Wolf….”, Dum gargled as Bigby pondered about killing him. He lowers the Tweedle harshly and looks over at Sonya with a solemn expression. She looked at him, shocked that he stopped.
He opened his mouth but a shocked look crossed his face as he was shot. He felt a searing pain on his side. Sonya whimpered to see him stumble to the ground, glancing over the attacker. It was Mary who shot him, wearing a large grin on her face. “Bigby!”, Sonya yelled, in a panic.
“It was a good show, but, you know. It just didn’t know when to end.”, Mary shrugs as she puts her gun away then walks to the limo, opens the back door and pulls out Woody’s axe.
Sonya’s eyes widened and illuminated brighter as Bloody Mary walked over to Bigby. She pulled out a chain to whip at her, only for Mary to dodge the end that hit the limo behind her.
She rushed to stop her from getting close to him. Bloody Mary smiles wildly, clashing her forearm with Sonya’s. “Look at you, protecting your poor little puppy.”
Sonya growled as her face melted into a skull, the rain peppering her flamed engulfed head into steam. “You’re not touching him.” Bigby’s eyes widened to see his deputy shielding him. “S-Sonya…”
Sonya pushed her and sent a punch towards her face. Mary dodged and pulled out her gun and shot Sonya in her thigh, hardly fazing her at the time. Mary tried shooting her again, but Sonya caught her hand, preventing her from shooting at all. She tried swinging the axe to her side but Sonya caught her hand a little late, causing the axe to gash her side a bit.
Sonya winces before she kicks Mary’s knee, making her drop to the ground in pain for a moment before tackling Sonya and breaking her arm, causing her to let out a yell of pain.
She growled in pain, not wanting to move her bent arm, watching as Bloody Mary picked up the axe and walked over to Bigby.
“You know, you wouldn’t think silver bullets would work on anything but a pure werewolf, but…as it turns out….that’s just not the case. Right. Wolfie?”, Mary says, laughing as she places the axe on her shoulder.
Sonya looked into Bigby distant but pained eyes and turned over to grab Mary’s ankle, heating her hand up to burn the woman’s skin. Anything to stop her from killing him...
She looked down at her kicking her over on her back and stomped Sonya’s face, breaking her nose. Sonya chokes on her blood, coughing some out to breathe as much as she could.
“I mean….hey, look, I know it sounds ridiculous, but….really guys….Can you argue with these results?”, she asked as she kicked Bigby to lay him on his back. “Cause I know I can’t.” She aimed the axe at Bigby’s neck then raised the axe high over her head.
“WAIT! STOP!”, Sonya yells and coughs. “Fuck…” Mary looks over at her as Sonya glares at her. “Just….take him, okay? Take Crane.”, she coughed out. “Just stop. Please.”
“Mmmm….yeah. I don’t know.”, Mary said as she pretended to think, before placing the axe on her shoulder again. “Sonya….mmph–don’t….”, Bigby groans, stretching his arm a little to reach her.
Mary notices a certain hand motioning her to come. “It’s your lucky day, kid. The Crooked Man says it’s okay with him.”, Mary said, smiling. “Bigby.”, Sonya whispered, looking at him. “I’m sorry…”
“Hello, Ichabod. Got a stomach ache?”, Mary asked Crane as he tried to sneak away. He stops, turns around and walks towards Mary. “Oh, and just between us girls….Crane ain’t no killer.”. Mary says as Crane walks up to her.
“I mean, look at this face. Couldn’t stick a pig if his life depended on it.” She grabs Crane’s ear, pulls his face close to hers to give him a grin then lets him go. Crane begins to walk to the limo as Mary watches him.
Before she leaves, she turns to face Sonya and Bigby. “Kinda like your boyfriend here. Too pussy to ruin a Tweedle’s day.”, she says, walking up to Bigby and stomps her foot down on his left arm.
Bigby lets out a roar of pain, making Sonya glare at Mary for causing him more pain. She looks to see a bone sticking out of his arm and bares her bloody teeth at Mary.
“Well, this is gonna be….a beautiful relationship we have with you guys. Really. I mean it. I’m jazzed about it.” Mary bows.
“Out with the old….in with the new. Long live the Queen.”, she said as she walked away from the broken duo.
She turned her head to look over her shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll be in touch. See you around.” She salutes and gets inside of the limo and the two cars drive away.
15 notes · View notes
whereflowersbloom · 5 years ago
Text
Shadows and thorns
Part I
The ‘Princess of thorns’ they usually call her, among other names, cursed child, witch. Some said born with the gift, others the curse. The promise of a witch had been sacred for a long time. Ages before her birth, but unfortunately it comes with a high price. Her innocent mother suffered the consequences. Her dying mother weakly lifted her head to look at her, for the first and last time, a stormy night. The Queen closed her eyes, content, exhaled her last breath as the baby girl let out her first cries. Her wailing resonating through the empty halls. Born with unnatural powers, a girl with soft silver white hair, big stunning violet eyes, shinning like jewels, pale skin almost transparent and a gentle heart. Growing fast, possessing incomparable beauty, showing surprising powers that needed to be groomed with care. The people of her land utterly devastated by the loss of their last Queen. Fearing the cause. Her. Afraid of the uncertainty, no sovereign, the birth of a cursed child, with tremendous powers. A witch. Her people talked. She must be hidden from the other Kingdoms, the rest of the world they decided. Forced into isolation. She spent her days secluded, in her own castle, learning everything she could about plants, and the arts of magic, devouring every book she gets her hands on. Accompanied by the animals, they do not fear her powers. And the exception of a few servants and her guardian.
She’s the sole and last daughter of Azarath. Her nation was relatively small and poor compared to others. Nothing like Nanda Parbat which was vast, rich and extensive. Now she would be traded away to secure her territory. At the age of 16 years old, John Constantine declares she’s to be married to Wallace West, nephew of the King of a Kingdom not too far from her own. The King Bartholomew had no children, so he declared Wallace his heir. Her guardian assured her, the young man was a brave and powerful warrior. He was capable of protecting her, and her powers would remain a secret to the rest of the world. He’d guard her as his queen. Constantine gave her his word.
But will he love me? A silent question her heart whispered, full of thirst for deep affection. Unlikely. Her mind answered.
Constantine meant well, she knew it. It was such a sweet and empty promise. A bittersweet kiss of destiny. She smiled faintly and thanked her guardian for staying by her side all those years. She tried to find comfort in the idea of freedom.
~~~
“You asked for me, Grandfather?” The prince asked firmly with his deep voice as he entered the throne room. He was wearing his gold and green armor, the colors of the house of Al Ghul. He looked up at the king whose wild eyes seemed to scatter, looking for something in every corner of the grand room.
Ra’s Al Ghul scorned down at his grandson and spoke heartlessly, his expression showing disdain. “I did. Your safeguards should have informed you the banquet and tournament will be held in a month.”
The prince clenched his fists in frustration and annoyance. He did not wish for this. However, fighting his grandfather on this would lead to punishment. He subdued his discontent, wearing a neutral mask. “Very well.”
Ra’s eyed his grandson suspiciously, he wasn’t showing resistance anymore. “Heed my warning boy, you will choose a suitable bride by the end of this tournaments or I’ll do it myself. If you weren’t my only heir, I’d remove you from succession.” The prince narrowed his eyes, getting the message.
He inclined his head, showing respect to his grandfather and king. “I understand.” He wondered what his ancestors would think of the cruel monster ruling the empire they had build, the whole Nanda Parbat nation called King. There wouldn’t be need to take such drastic measures, he’d find a bride at the banquet and then he’d remove his grandfather as king. It was the only hope to save his people. Avoid the war his grandfather had planned.
“Do what is expected and do not bring shame upon the Al Ghul name, boy or I’ll have you killed.” His grandfather threatened anger reflected in his eyes. “GET OUT OF MY SIGHT NOW.” The king barked.
Damian Al Ghul bowed, not saying a single word,striding from the room, before his grandfather came up with new ways to torture him. His safeguard and spy master following, falling behind him like a shadow. Richard.
To the rest of the kingdom this tournament was the king’s way of boasting the wealth of their house, choosing a bride for the dutiful prince. To Damian and his loyal followers it was the first step in becoming the new monarch the land urgently needed, establishing his line.
A wife was all he required. Love wasn’t necessary.
~~~
Nanda Parbat was far from what she imagined it would be, larger, deep in the mountains, there were some charred ruins of epic proportions, each of its five main towers reaching into the sky. It possessed an ancient beauty. The castle was alive with activity, servants rushing past with bolts of cloth and platters of different kind of foods. Shadows as they called their assassins, sprinting back and forth with curved pieces of steel in their grip, royalty from other nations, high lords and ladies strolling the grounds, admiring the wondrous city carved into sandstone.
There she had met her betrothed, Wallace West from The Westlands. He was everything she had heard about him, rumors from commoners. Wallace was muscular and strong, with reddish locks and sparkling green eyes, he moved with the confidence of a man who knew he was the best sword in the capital, smiled at her as if he expected her to be impressed by it. Other ladies would describe him as charismatic and charming. Not her though.
Rhachel did not feel her heart hammer in her chest when she was in her future husband’s presence. She did not feel her palms sweat or heat rise to her rosy cheeks. She did not feel a ball of nerves ladies speak about, or desire and want pool in her stomach. She did not want to launch herself in his strong arms and stay there. She did not wish to engage in a conversation with him that lasted more than five minutes.
In her mind she’d gladly marry a commoner if she was in love with him. No seconds thoughts. If it meant it was her choice. Unfortunately, her duty consisted of being the wife of a prince. A queen to give him one or two heirs. That was her role to play from the moment she was born or so she had been told. She longed for freedom. Would she ever belong to herself? The wildness of her soul suffocated by the chains of her obligations screamed for release.
“You’ve been neglecting your soon to be husband.” Her guardian chastised her. “This alliance with Westlands is very important. A matter of survival.” Constantine hissed before he lowered his voice to a whisper. She felt like a mare sold to the highest bidder. She reminder herself she was doing it for her nation.
“I understand you wished for love. But it’s your duty. Azarath needs it. You may grow to like him.” John spoke directly, looking her straight in the eye. He rested a comforting hand on her bare shoulder. A gesture intended to give her hope. But I won’t, she gulped down those words that wanted to come out. She knows. Whatever he was willing to provide, he could give to her. It wouldn’t quench her heart and spirit.
With her fists clenched tightly, her blood boiling in her veins so hot it burned, a knot started to form in her throat, yet she refused to let a single teardrop leave her eyes. She was the last daughter of Azarath. She felt both anger and sadness started building up in her chest. She held her tongue. She couldn’t lose control here.
“So I have the rest of eternity to speak with him.” She says bitterly, over the muttering of the other visitors.
Rhachel saw members of the safeguard walking nearby, a man richly decorated in black and green standing in front of them, guards shadowing him, a massive sword to match his height on his hip. Midnight dark hair, olive skin and emerald eyes instantly caught her attention.
“Who is that?” Rhachel asked, fire and curiosity sparking in her eyes, pointing to the man.
Constantine snickered, pushing her hand down discreetly. “That, dearest Rae is Prince Damian Al Ghul.” Giving her a reproachful glance.
It was her first time seeing the Prince, if only she could get closer for a better look but a crowd of astonished nobles had gathered around, making it almost impossible. “I heard this tournament was a ploy for The Prince to find a bride.” She said quietly, eyes still fixed on Prince Damian, who was kissing the hand of a noble she recognized, Donna, the Amazonian princess. The epitome of a lady. She focused on the Al Ghul heir again.
She had only heard good things of the Crown Prince, Prince Damian was said to be everything the folk stories described: tall, imposing, brave and mysterious. A true maiden’s dream. He was said to be well read, chivalrous, a great swordsman, never lost a single match, loved by the commoners and nobles equally.
Her governess had taught her about all the noble families, the most important kingdoms, the lineages, everything she required to know. She read about the Al Ghul, they were said to have cursed assassins blood in their veins, with a large army of cold-blooded Assassins, called Shadows.
The moment she laid her amethyst eyes on Prince Damian she found him too beautiful. Rhachel could not imagine cursed blood or shadows being associated with him. She felt a strong and magnetic pull towards him. Questions running through her mind, if the rumors were true, if he was everything he appeared to be. Who was the real Damian Al Ghul? She shook her head, repelling those impermissible thoughts invading her. “I need some fresh air.” She let know to Constantine before leaving the palace.
~~~
The night was completely clear. The light of the moon gushed down onto Nanda Parbat and illuminated everything in such a romantic way Rhachel could not help but give a little sigh. It was so different from Azarath. Things looked entirely different in moonlight. She felt like a breath of fresh air had been blown across her caged soul. She wore her feelings upon her shoulders, carrying the weight of her duties and past. For a moment she wanted nothing but forget all about it.
Once out of the castle, she headed toward the royal stables. She looked around until she found her horse and smiled instantly. “I’m sure the stableboy will have a nice apple for you, Melchior.” she said, patting her horse’s neck and looking into his big dark red eyes. Melchior has been a gift from John after her twelfth name day. He had become her constant companion. “Maybe I can convince him to give you two apples. What do you say, my friend?” The white stallion nuzzled at her neck. “I see you’ve missed me. Two it is.”
One of the stable boys had mentioned her that buried deep in the trees there was a stream and that the banks were soft and clear enough for a horse to get up to full pace uninterrupted. Perhaps she could explore the unknown territory with Melchior tomorrow. “What do you say, want to go ride tomorrow?” Melchior exhales a deep fluttering breath through his nostrils. “I’ll make sure they give you enough apples.” Rachel promises, encouraging him. The horse seemed to sense her mood lifting and snorted in anticipation. She loved the white stallion, riding him. It gave her a sense of freedom. He’s the only one who understands she told herself.
She was running her fingers through Melchior’s hair when she hears the horse next to her own, nickering to her, as if it were calling her, seeking her attention. She looked at him, studying the beautiful creature. It was an elegant black stallion, huge, an Arabian purebred, dark as night with shinning amber eyes. Magnificent. “Hello, maybe you want some apples, too?” Rhachel smiled warmly at him. She reached out to touch him, slowly, carefully, showing him she meant no harm. The dark stallion lowers his head, allowing her to touch him. She rubbed his long neck gently. He seemed to be enjoying it. “What is your name?” She asked the horse as it were to answer her.
“I must admit I’m impressed. Goliath does not allow strangers to touch him. I’d even dare say he’s taken a liking to you.” A deep voice announced from behind her, startling her. Promply the princess whirled around to see Damian Al Ghul standing there in all his finery, watching her with an amused expression as she petted the horse and talked to it.
So first part of new AU 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🙈🙈🙈
What do you think about it? Questions, suggestions, open to anything.
@ravenfan1242 it’s here
113 notes · View notes
ajoy3fanfics · 5 years ago
Text
Kagome needs to go
The way Yuki and Suki saw it, this Kagome woman needed to go.
From the first day she came, they knew she was trouble. They had been playing a perfectly fun game of ‘who can annoy uncle the most’ (It was always Suki), when he suddenly stood up, passing them off to Shippo with a distant look in his eyes. Uncle was fast, there was no question about that, but unless there was a reason for him to be on high alert, he was downright lethargic. Still, Uncle Inuyasha needing space wasn’t anything new, so it wasn’t terribly worrisome that he took off at high speed; It did, however, raise a few red flags when Shippo shook them off and headed in the dog demons direction, screaming “it’s her! She’s back!”
Mama and papa had scooped them up in a hurry, scurrying towards the old well. Suki was worried, pouting like she always did, but Yuki, being the older of the two, knew something exciting and out of the ordinary was about to happen.
And then they saw it.
Uncle pulled a girl- an actual, live girl!- out from the well. They looked half-frozen, the pair not moving until Mama let out a noise, halfway between a gasp and a sob, and picked up her pace. She was wearing the strangest cloth, shorter than anything they had seen. Uncle Inuyasha held onto her, refusing to let her hand go- he looked almost scared, if such a thing were possible. Yuki wished he would move her aside so that way he could pull out some other sort of treasure. If he could pull out an entire person, what other wonders could the well produce? What was going to come out of the magic well next?!
The girls were sorely disappointed to find that uncle did not pull out a new doll for them, or cloth or even a sweet. He didn’t even try! He was too busy looking at Kagome to even see if they could even get a treat; its like his eyes are glued to the strange woman! Even when they tugged on his fire rat asking him to play tag or throw them high into the air, but he quickly dismissed them a promise to play another time. The whole night it was as if they were forgotten. Suki wanted Shippo to play hide and seek, but he sternly told them no; Stranger still, their big cousin Shippo who was so mature and ‘too big for baby games’ was cuddling up with this stranger, right in her lap! Mama and papa were so caught up in her stories and crying and laughing that they had no time to play. When they descended on uncle, full of energy and bored to death, he had very little patience for them. The hanyou, who normally let them do as they pleased was far too wrapped up in Kagome. Yuki had wanted to climb up him, to perch on his shoulders and pet his ears- something she had done a million times! So what if she had kicked that lady in the head in the process? Uncle never complained about them being too rough before. But one little kick and suddenly Uncle Inuyasha was angry? He picked her up and set her down, giving her a stern look and a warning never to do that again.
The rest of the night hadn’t proved any better, and by the time it was dark and sleep was sure to come, they were both glad to be done with the day and put this Kagome business behind them.
~.~
Uncle wasn’t mean, never scary. At least not to them.
They had heard stories, of course, about what a fearsome warrior he was; how he and papa had defeated the greatest evil the world had known. They had seen the power of his sword when he cleared the land for the construction of new homes. It was hard to imagine their uncle as the dangerous demon from the stories when he was more of a puppy than anything.
But when Yuki had asked when Kagome was going back down the well after an exasperated day of everyone fawning over Kagome, the look on his face made her think differently.
~.~
Over the next few weeks Yuki and suki began to see sides of him they hadn’t before. Uncle had always let them tag along, let them go where ever he did if they wanted- but now they had to stay at home, tethered to mama and papa.
“Uncle needs space.” Mama said. “Kagome has been gone a long time and they need to be alone together.”
“But why?” Suki had asked.
“They have a lot of catching up to do.” Papa has explained. “You girls need to let them be. Uncle is going to be upset if you bother them.”
Uncle had never minded them hanging around; and with the new baby, they were even more anxious to head towards his house and ask him to go for a run or to catch fish together. But when they arrived, they could hear Uncles voice, different from anytime they had heard to before, deep and serious in a concerning way.
“Woman, you’re driving me crazy.”
He said it himself! Kagome was no good, and making him nuts. If this woman wasn’t here, he wouldn’t be that way. They could play together again, and Mama wouldn’t spend all her time teaching Kagome how to cook (seriously, who doesn’t know how to make rice? Even they knew how to do it!).
Yuki had wanted to stay, to tell Kagome it was time to back to where ever she came from, but Suki had another idea, and with the way Uncle sounded, it was better to leave them be.
Besides, the two of them had work to do.
~.~
It had been nearly two weeks since Kagome had emerged from the well and their lives had been turned upside down; two weeks of that woman constantly barging into their home, borrowing Mama’s clothes or talking about seals and spells with Papa. Two weeks since Uncle had turned into a different person- maybe that’s why Kagome was so interested in Papas work- maybe she really was a witch!
She had seemed overjoyed when they asked her to go for a walk, complaining of being cramped in the house. She had practically jumped for joy when they turned to her, batting their eyelashes and smiling excitedly. They left swiftly after that, Kagome letting them lead the way to the ‘special spot’ they wanted to show her.
They had to give it to her, the woman knew how to talk; she was cheerful and chatty, asking questions about them they naturally wanted to answer.
When they came to the well, Yuki ran ahead, instructing Kagome to keep up. Suki fell behind a pace, and when Kagome came towards the wooden well, Sukis small hand reached out to push her down.
She had tried, but she had failed.
Kagome was sturdier than she looked.
“Were you trying to push me in?” She demanded, a deep wrinkle in her forehead making her look more fearsome.
Suki tried to hold her ground, bottom lip quivering even if her voice was steady. “Yes. You need to go back in!” She cried, gripping Yuki’s hand for support.
“Go back in?” Kagome echoed. “W- why?!” If Yuki had known better, she would have thought that she sounded hurt.
“Everything’s different since you came here!” Yuki said, stomping her foot for good measure. “I want things to go back to the way they were before!” She hadn’t meant to cry, but she couldn’t help the hot tears that sprang out as she fell to the ground, bringing her sister down with her. “It’s not …Not fair.” Yuki said between sniffles.
At this, her face softened as she slumped down to the ground. “I think I understand.” She leaned her head back against the old wooden well. “I felt like that a few times in my life.”
Suki sniffed, looking up at her with critical eyes. “Y-You did?”
“Oh yeah, of course.” Kagome said, waiving off her concern. “When I first came here and met Inuyasha, he was really stubborn- even more than he is now. I wanted to go back home and go back to my normal life.”
“That’s not the same.” Yuki said crossly.
“No,” she admitted, “But I did want to push him down a well.” When her joke didn’t get the reaction she hoped for, she looked up towards the sky and smiled, but somehow still looked sad.
“When my brother Souta was born it was a nightmare for me. I was an only child and suddenly everything was about him. I probably made a few comments about sending him back too.”
“What did you do?” Yuki asked, still skeptical.
“I tried to get along.” She shrugged. “What else could I do? And after a while I really liked being a big sister, even if he could be a pain at times. I really… really do miss him.”
“Then why don’t you go back?” Suki asked.
“Because I love Inuyasha.” She answered simply. “This is where I belong. And besides, your Mama and Papa are my family too. I hope someday, you’ll think of me as family.”
She smiled, and it was hard to resist someone so earnest.
“Will you play with us?” Yuki asked, still the hint of stubbornness in her voice that was all her mothers.
“Of course!” Kagome brightened.
“And you’ll make Uncle stop being so grumpy?” Suki crossed her arms now, angry at Inuyasha. “He never wants to play anymore and never takes us for runs.”
“I can try.” Kagome laughed, “But I wouldn’t worry too much, Inuyasha was planning on asking you two to go fishing later today.”
“Really?” They asked in unison, eyes large and hopeful.
“Really.”  She smiled. “He misses you too.”
Yuki stood up, full of energy. “We better go then!” She said, reaching out her hand. Without a word, Suki followed, her small hand extended.
They walked back home, hand in hand.
Maybe Kagome wasn’t so bad.
192 notes · View notes
tanjamikaelson · 4 years ago
Text
LOVE FOR ETERNITY - PART 89
MASTERLIST
PART 89: | BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WITCH FOR |
[FIVE YEARS AGO IN HELL:]
  - “Everything you’ve heard about hell is true, fire and torment all day.” Cade began explaining as they approached a big house and he continued as they walked in, “Everyone wants to be with me to escape it but they are just so ordinary.” he looks at Natali, “Well except you.”
  - Natali looks at him and gives him a smile and just then they hear a male voice, “Isn’t that the same speech you gave to me?” 
She turns around to see a handsome guy with dark brown hair who was leaning on the door frame and eyeing warily, wondering who was a new Cade’s sidekick.
  - He then steps closer to her, “What is she? Can I guess? She looks like a vampire.”
  - Cade looks at Natali and says, “This is Kai Parker.” he introduces him and they say to him, “And Natali here is just like you, a vampire and a witch siphoner, but much more older than you.”
  - “Oh really? Consider me intrigued.” Kai says, still looking at her.
  - “I can say the same.” Natali tells him, “How come I never met you? Or heard about you?”
  - “Well, probably because I was stuck in the prison world for eighteen years and shortly after I escaped Damian Salvatore killed me.”
  - “You mean Damon?” Natali questioned.
  - “Yes, yes. You know him?” Kai asked.
  - “Oh, I know all of them. And we’re not on good terms.” Natali tells him.
  - “Same enemies, I like you already.” Kai states and gives her devilish smile, which she returns.
⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡
MYSTIC FALLS
Last time Natali saw Kai was in Mystic Falls. They did a spell together that brought them to Mystic grill, but shortly after that they went separate ways. Now she was hoping that Kai was still here, harassing the Mystic Falls gang. 
Unfortunately she couldn’t find him, so she decided to find one person who can know where he is.
  - “Hello, Bonnie.” Natali saya standing behind her and as Bonnie turns around she contiones, “I need to know where your lover boy is.”
  - Bonnie narrows her eyes, “Enzo? What do you want with him?” she asked.
  - “I have no idea who that is. I was thinking about Kai Parker.” Natali tells her.
  - “Kai Parker? He is at a safe place.” Bonnie replied.
  - “You put him in a prison world again, didn’t you?” Natali questioned, “Well it's time for him to come back to the real world.”
  - “No way in hell I would let him out.” Bonnie protested.
  - “I don’t think you have a choice.” Natali threatened.
  - “Last time I saw you, you killed me, so-.” Bonnie was cut off by Natali, “And I can just as easily do it again, if you don't do as I say.” she looked at Bonnie and the flames of hell fire made a circle around her, “Now, you’ll give me the ascendant or you’ll end up in hell.”
  - “Why do you even need him?” Bonnie questioned.
  - “That doesn't concern you, little witch.” Natali 
  - “Even if I give you the ascendant you don't know the spell.” Bonnie told her.
  - “Well, I have you to do the spell.” Natali stated.
  - Bonnie scoffs, “Like hell I will.”
  - “Don’t make me lose my patience.” Natali tells her and steps closer, “Who did you mention earlier, Enzo is it? I’m sure you don’t want to lose him.”
  - “If you do anything to him-” Bonnie spoke.
  - “Then what? Hm?” Natali asks, “You know there’s no point in going against me, so you better give me what I want.”
After realizing that Natali is right Bonnie had no other choice then to cooperate. She did a spell and took Natali to the prison world. Kai was still in a karaoke bar chained to the chair. The chains only seemed looser due to his body slowly beginning to dehydrate. He could smell Bonnie's blood the moment they arrived. He was weak and in pain but slowly tilted his head up, his pupils were swallowed by black hunger and veins were writhing desperately along his cheeks.
  - Kai’s laugh was raspy, “You came.”
A small shudder passed through Bonnie’s spine as he grinned widely at her, his fangs dripping salaciously.
  - “Give him your blood.” Natali tells her.
  - “Not a chance he’s getting my blood.” Bonnie refused.
Natali reached her hand out to grab Bonnies, but she was surprised when her hand went straight through Bonnie.
  - “What the hell?” Natali exclaimed.
  - “The spell I gave you to chant was to trap you here and the spell I used only temporally teleported me here.” Bonnie explained, “In a matter of seconds you two will be trapped here alone, with no way out.”
  - Natali smiles, but Bonnie could see anger in her smile, “Congratulations Bonnie, you outsmarted me for the first and last time. I will get out of here and next time I see you, you will beg for mercy.” 
After that Bonnie disappeared and Natali walked towards Kai to give him her blood. She bit her wrist and placed it on his lips. He didn’t need a lot to recover. Few seconds later she pulled away her arm and freed him from the chains.
  - “Well, you can say you trapped your own self here.” Kai remarks the moment he was fully awake.
  - “Fuck you.” Natali spat out.
  - “Is that an insult or a to-do list?” Kai couldn’t help the childlike grin that cracked his features when he looked up at her. 
  - “Don’t get your hopes up.” Natali grumbled.
  - “Why did you come here? Isn’t you supposed to be with your boyfriend in Saint Tropez to kill your sister?” Kai asked her.
  - “I killed my sister and I don’t want to see Kol right now.” Natali tells him.
  - “Trouble in paradise?” Kai questioned.
  - “I found out that he killed my parents.” Natali told him.
  - “So what?” Kai says as he walks towards a bar.
  - “I completely lost control after that and I was left all alone.” Natali spoke, “It wasn’t easy to live like that, so I turned off my emotions after that and I’ve never been the same.” when she looked at him she saw that he wasn’t even paying attention to her, “Kai!” she exclaimed.
  - “Mmm?” Kai looks at her and smiles, “Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”
  - Natali sighed, “Why do I even bother?” she asks herself, before walking towards the door and leaving him alone.
⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡
[MARSEILLIES, FRANCE: 1002.]
Natali couldn’t stay in Marseilles anymore so she left. She felt heartbroken, she never felt the pain like this before. Because she was a vampire it was all heightened and it seemed like it would never end. She left that place and never looked back, not even to bury her family, she couldn't bring herself to do it, especially because she couldn’t find bodies of her father and sister, but she knew they were dead too.
As much as she wanted to control her hunger, that much she would lose control. It was driving her crazy, she couldn’t focus on anything. She wanted to find Kol, but she didn’t know how. His family was never seen again.
Then finally after realizing that her overwhelming feeling of hunger won't stop as long as she tries to sustain it, she decides to embrace her nature and becomes a new person who doesn't feel remorse or guilt for anyone she killed, so the darkness she became. It was better that way, she didn't feel like she would go crazy with every passing second.
And after some time when she got her life under control she went to find a coven in which she was born.
⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡
   - “What happened to my real parents?” Natali asked the woman that invited her into her home.
  - “They died, years ago. I was a very good friend with you mother.” The woman told her, “She told me about you seconds before she died. May she rest in peace.”
  - “Does this coven still go by the rule of killing my kind?” Natali asked firmly.
  - The woman looked her straight in the eyes, “Well your parents couldn’t change that rule and they were leaders, so..” woman began.
  - “So you still kill my kind.” Natali finished for her.
  - “Luckily for us, since you were born there wasn't born anyone who doesn’t have powers of their own. It’s very rare.” Woman told her.
  - “I suppose that I’m not welcomed here?” Natali asked.
  - “I personally don’t have anything against you, I loved your mother and I wouldn't harm you because you are different, but I can’t promise that for others.'' A woman tells her.
  - “Are you a coven leader?” Natali questioned.
  - “No, a sister of your mother has been a coven leader since your parents died.” Woman told her, “But she doesn’t even know that you’re alive, she thinks that you died at birth. Your parents did everything to keep you alive.”
  - “I see.” Natali muttered.
  - “You can stay here, try to keep a low profile. No one can know who you really are.” A woman told her.
  - Natali smiled, “Thank you. I’ll try my best.” she replied.
It’s been a few days now since Natali was living with her mother's friend. She was trying to keep her hunger under control, but the urge was getting bigger and bigger. One day when the night started to fall, Natali was outside of the house. Suddenly she started to smell blood, she was trying to resist but it felt like it was getting closer and closer. 
  - “Help. Please help.” Natali heard someone calling out.
A woman that Natali was staying with came out of the house to see what was happening. She was a girl approaching their house, blood was going down her keens, and she was barely standing. 
Natali who was feeding on animal blood for a few weeks, couldn’t stop her veins from coming out under her eyes. 
  - “Natali, can you help me?” A woman asked, when she saw that Natali was trying to leave.
  - “Uh, I don’t really like blood.” Natali told her without turning around.
  - “It’s okay, you can just bring me some urbs so I can put them on her wound.” A woman told her.
Natali did as she was told, she came back and was trying to avoid looking at any of them. A girl that was hurt looked up at Natali and saw something strange. She saw that her eyes were darkening and that something strange was appearing and disappearing under her eyes.
  - “Are you okay, what’s with your eyes? A girl asked.
  - Natali turned around, “I need to go. “ she said and quickly ran away from them.
Woods were close to their home so Natali went there. She was walking around feeling like she was about to faint. She never felt that way. She was really hungry for fresh human blood, she fed on animal blood only because she didn’t want anyone to find out the truth about her. But right now she doesn't know if she can resist the urge any longer. 
In order to satisfy her thirst she hunted a rabbit. She was feeding on him not noticing that someone was approaching her. It was a woman she was staying with, she realized that when she heard her scream.
Natali quickly let a rabbit fall from her hands and a woman could now see clearly that she was feeding on it. Blood was coming down her mouth and her eyes were dark red. 
  - “What kind of sick creature are you?” A woman questioned.
  - “It’s, it’s not what it looks like.” Natali spoke.
  - “It’s not what it looks like? You just told me you are scared of blood,”A woman told her.
  - “I know I did. I can’t be around human blood, because I need blood to survive,” Natali explained, “I’m not scared of the blood, I’m scared of what I could do.”
  - “You mean, you could do to humans the same as you did to that rabbit?” A woman asked.
  - Natali looks to the ground, “Yes.”
  - “Everyone was right. Your kind is an abomination.” Woman tells her.
  - “Please don’t say that,” Natali told her, continuing to feel hunger and anger.
  - “You don’t like to hear the truth?” Woman questioned, “I’m sorry but you are not welcomed in my home anymore. I was living with a monster all this time. ”
  - “I’m not a monster.” Natali tells her, rage could be heard in her voice.
  - A woman flinched, “I think that you should go and never come back.” She told her.
  - “No.” Natali replies sternly, “This coven is my birth right, I’m not going anywhere.”
  - “I don’t think witches will follow you when they find out what you really are.” A woman tells her.
  - Natali looked at her, it seemed like she didn’t have any emotions, “Then it’s a good thing you won’t live to tell them the truth.” 
As soon as she heard her say that, the woman began to run, but with a vampire speed Natali was quicker. She appeared in front of her and didn't think twice before she sank her fangs into her flesh. A warm fresh human blood filled her mouth and that feeling of ecstasy couldn’t be compared to anything. 
⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ MASTERLIST Tags: @mikaelsonsmagic   @p3nny4urth0ught5   @cute-freak27   @ias-born  @superhalsteads  @characterobsessed   @hinata7346   @luiza-4-ever  @huntress1428  @infiniteoblivion21 @watersenthusiast
21 notes · View notes
raptured-night · 5 years ago
Note
Alright here are other ones that I had asked for to deathdaydungeon but they seem to be occupied for a while... There is a theory saying that Neville had a Snape Boggart because Snape had threatened Trevor, which represented Neville’s “proof” that he wasn’t a Squib, as he feared so. In this case, why didn’t he have a dead Trevor as a Boggart instead? Do you think that Snape expressing his worry over how James fancies Lily could be consistent evidence he wanted to date her or not?
I do believe that @deathdaydungeon has shared a few of their thoughts on Neville’s Boggart before that you may find of interest since they’ve not yet been able to respond to your ask. Indeed, the entire discussion following their own thoughts is well worth a read, and here’s another version where I share just a few of my own thoughts. 
That being said, I’m going to cite from a much older and very lengthy discussion post I once wrote regarding Snape as I went into a great length and detail exploring the potential symbolism of Neville’s Boggart to Neville and some of the psychological implications. Because that particular meta covered such a broad range of topics concerning Snape and that particular bit came at the very end of what proved to be a 20k word essay simply linking you to it and expecting you to search through it all to find the sections that pertain to your ask seems less reasonable than simply quoting from that portion of the meta here (although if you find yourself with a bit of time and the interest for it, here is the link to that monster of a meta all the same). So, with that said, here are my thoughts on Neville’s Boggart, Trevor, Boggart!Snape, and Boggarts overall. 
I have often challenged Harry’s narrator as one that is intentionally designed to be biased or unreliable (notably it is a limited-omniscient perspective) in order to demonstrate how it can influence reader perception of characters and even the world the characters occupy. However, the discrepancy between Harry’s perspective of how he is treated by the Dursleys and Neville’s perspective of his own family and how he is treated is revealing exactly because it is made more apparent for being presented through Harry’s narrative. From the start of HP: PS, Harry’s narrative wastes little time in painting for the reader a picture of abuse and unhappiness where Harry’s life with the Dursleys is concerned. With Dudley serving as our counterpoint to emphasize the extreme neglect, abuse and more general mistreatment that Harry suffers while under their roof (e.g. being forced to sleep in a cupboard with spiders while Dudley has a second room, being bullied and beaten while Dudley’s is doted on, even having his hair cut in a humiliating fashion while Dudley receives a new school uniform, etc.), Rowling’s narrative also expresses to the reader Harry’s awareness of the injustice of his situation and his feelings of resentment, discontent, and helplessness. When it comes to the Dursleys and their cruel treatment of Harry the narrative does function as a mostly reliable gauge for the reader to go by. Thus, when the reader is confronted with Neville’s account of his own family experiences in HP: PS I would argue that what makes it the most jarring is the fact that it goes against the precedent set by Harry and his narrative, in that Neville does not appear to recognize anything out of the ordinary in how he has been treated:
"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me -- he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned -- but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced -- all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here -- they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."
Notably, Neville joins the other first-years like Seamus Finnegan in very casually relating details about his home life to his new peers and the reader learns that he would appear to come from a family that would risk potentially killing him over the possibility that he might have been born a Squib (the way that Squibs might function as an allegory for neurodivergence and disability is, in itself, an interesting subject to explore; especially given the attitudes of Neville’s grandmother and uncle, whose behaviors might be compared to those of modern anti-vaccers, so-called “autism awareness” groups like Autism Speaks that promote an idea of autism as a disease to be cured, and those parents who treat their disabled children in abliest ways). Indeed, it would appear that Trevor was a gift from the same uncle who had constantly tried to catch him off guard (in the same way Dudley and his friends always forced Harry to be on the defensive) and held him out of a window before thoughtlessly dropping him, which does add a new dimension to his emotional attachment to his toad (a reward from an abusive uncle just for not being so inadequate that he failed to get into Hogwarts). The stark difference between Neville and Harry’s perceptions of their families and their unique responses to how they are treated does give us some potential insight into their insecurities and measurements of self-worth.
Additionally, it gives us some potential insight into the possible sociocultural attitudes of wizarding society and might suggest that behaviors like those from Neville’s family are normalized and not regarded as abusive so much as they are accepted as just another extension of the “eccentricity” of their world. It is of interest that when Harry receives his first acceptance letter to Hogwarts addressed to “The Cupboard under the Stairs” the Dursley’s appear concerned at being caught out and move Harry to Dudley’s second room. They are also temporarily said to have tried to seem “nicer” to him, likely for fear of being watched. Moreover, the Dursley’s do show some indication that they may be aware that their treatment of Harry is abusive and would be viewed negatively by most of their Muggle society when Harry joins them at the zoo and Vernon Dursley reluctantly buys him a lemon-flavored ice cream to save face when the vendor draws attention to Harry being excluded. Overall, the very fact that Neville did feel so comfortable openly discussing his Uncle Algie’s treatment of him and the low opinion his family all appear to share about his magical capability does seem to support a point of contrast between Muggle and wizard societies and their views on abuse and child endangerment.
Furthermore, the different ways that Harry and Neville react to Severus is also revealing. Especially as there have been numerous discussions about the psychological factors that may have contributed to Severus’s seeming disdain for Harry and Neville but fewer discussions seem to be devoted to exploring Harry’s own strong animosity for Severus or the source of Neville’s potential fear of him. Significantly, we can observe that for Harry the protection afforded by Lily’s sacrifice does create a scenario where he must return to the Dursley’s at the end of each school year (in some ways, one could observe that the consequences of Lily’s death bind both Harry and Severus to an environment where they sustained most of their trauma). Thus, we see where any outward defiance within the household of the Dursleys is complicated by the requirement that Harry must remain with the Dursleys even after he learns he has magic. Instead, Harry has to mostly resort to cunning acts of self-defense (e.g. taking advantage of the Dursley’s ignorance of the Underage Secrecy Laws to lead them to believe he can use magic against them) or we see that his resistance assumes a more passive-aggressive tone (understandable given the retaliation he can expect from direct confrontation) with the exception of HP: PoA, when Aunt Marge’s sustained verbal abuse and threats over the course of two weeks manages to trigger an explosion of magic in Harry.
Whereas, at Hogwarts, we see Harry buck against authority more and more each year and Severus remains the focal point of his more active resistance. His refusal to address Severus using his title or forms of respect, even in the face of correction by multiple sources, culminates in Harry openly sassing Severus in his sixth year (”You don’t have to call me sir, Professor.”). He becomes more openly brazen in working around Severus, confronting him, and defying him when challenged. As the series progresses, Harry’s enmity toward Severus grows until we see a rancor of mutual proportions between them that culminates in Harry chasing Severus out of Hogwarts throwing curses in HP: HBP. Thus, where Harry cannot so openly defy the Dursleys, in many ways, Severus becomes a figure of authority (one who seems to unfairly hate him and who is biased against him and his house) that he can more safely (i.e. where resistance with the Dursleys might result in real harm or consequences defying Severus results in detention at worst and lost house points at best) resist in their place. Therefore, where Harry may function as a less threatening proxy of James for Severus to project onto, so too does Severus potentially function as a more secure stand-in for the Dursleys that Harry can lash out against and rebel from.
In the case of Neville, I would posit that Severus may also function as a representation of sorts. Specifically, he may serve as a symbol of the deeper anxieties and insecurities that Neville formed as a result of the pressure that his family placed on his magical capability. A pressure that the Hogwarts environment and its preferencing of a culture that fosters competition between houses and depends upon a performance-based reward system may only have exacerbated. As Harry observes in HP: GoF, McGonagall wasn’t the only professor while at Hogwarts to seldom compliment Neville, rather it would seem that “...Neville very rarely heard that he was good at anything.” His first-year alone began in an inauspicious manner, as we see Neville struggle in almost all of his classes from Charms to Potions to Flying (which lands him a broken wrist and Harry a spot on the Quidditch team). While we can debate the extent to which Neville’s magical struggles are the result of him being on a different level of skill and/or learning curve to some of the other children, we can at least acknowledge that his anxiety may have contributed significantly to many of his mistakes (”But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.”), just as Merope Gaunt’s magical ability was considerably hampered by the constant criticism and abuse she sustained from both Gaunt men in her household (notably, just as Neville’s grandmother implies that he was nearly a Squib, so too does Merope’s father criticize her magical abilities by calling her a Squib).
Which brings me back to the subject of Severus and the finer points of why he may have become Neville’s Boggart, specifically. Undoubtedly, for a self-conscious and anxious student, having Severus for a teacher would be a harrowing experience and I do not deny that Neville wouldn’t have found it difficult. However, as I’ve also established previously, Severus was not entirely unique in how he approached teaching nor even the only teacher at Hogwarts to criticize, be harsh, or single-out Neville. As such, one must ask themselves why it is Neville that perceives Severus as more uniquely terrible or to be feared. For starters, we could once again point to the unreliable narrative of Harry Potter and what it tells us about the public opinion of Severus, even before Harry had his first class with him, and how that may have also influenced Neville’s preconceived notions of him as well. Notably, when Harry asks Percy (a school prefect) about Severus he’s told this, "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to -- everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Thus, anxious already, it’s feasible to argue that Neville may have entered Severus’s first potions class with an idea of Severus’s “infamy” as well. 
More critically, however, one might speculate as to whether Neville even consciously connects his performance anxiety and fear of being perceived as a failure with the treatment he received as a child by members of his own family. Indeed, I would submit that the true source of Neville’s fears does stem from the traumatic experiences of his childhood and what they would have reinforced for him; that is, the idea that he would be better off dead than a Squib, a magical failure who can only become a burden to his family, and the conditioned expectation that any failure his part will always be connected to harsh corrections and/or punishments (such as having your uncle constantly torment you by trying to constantly catch you off guard or even threaten to drop you out of a window). Indeed, within a society where Squibs are treated as sources of shame and second-class citizens, and where you never speak of that “second cousin who became an accountant,” (HP: PS) Neville’s fears are legitimately validated and he would be more out to view other authority figures as capable of doing serious harm to him (if only by rejecting him from Hogwarts, declaring him a near-Squib, and sending him out into the world without a magical education). Thus, he might take them at face value as a genuine threat to his long-term acceptance in the wizarding world and regard his teachers (particularly the overly critical, stern, or harsh ones) with a deeper source of anxiety rather than test their boundaries, as we see with Harry vs. Snape. As such, the boy whose family hadn’t even entirely expected him to get into Hogwarts finds himself faced with the constant pressure of not disappointing them or proving himself undeserving of his place there among the other students. Returning back to Severus, we can find evidence of an interesting symbolism in him being Neville’s Boggart and how that might lend insight into these deeper fears Neville carries.
I do not believe it was a coincidence that Rowling placed the scene where Severus had Neville demonstrate the efficacy of his Shrinking Solution on Trevor before the Boggart lesson with Lupin as the reader is shown (i.e. between HP: PS and HP: CoS Neville is only shown making mistakes in Severus’s classes that would prompt him snapping at him or we are just told Severus was horrible) in more certain terms why Neville might fear Severus enough for him to credibly be his personal Boggart. As we know, Trevor was the gift that Neville received from his Uncle Algie for “surprising everyone” in his family with his acceptance to Hogwarts, which we could argue makes Trevor a symbol of approval from a family who formerly saw him as a disappointment. Moreover, Severus also functions as a symbol in that Neville may have come to associate him specifically with his anxieties over being singled out as inadequate. Quite fitting, as Severus Snape the biased teacher and Head of Slytherin House who hates Gryffindors, fancies the Dark Arts, covets the DADA position, has exacting standards and does not suffer fools lightly is both the safe (in that it’s likely easier for Neville to fear him than it would be for him to unpack all the psychological realities of the trauma his family inflicted on him) and the most obvious candidate for Neville to focus all of the anxieties and fears he may have formed as a result of his family’s treatment of him. Treatment that his world would appear to have normalized in such a way that, unlike Harry, he may not have consciously recognized --or even want to recognize-- it to be cruel, unfair, and even abusive. Ergo, when Severus uses Trevor as his “teaching moment” the symbol of Neville’s fears (i.e Severus) is seemingly threatening the symbol of Neville’s validation (i.e. Trevor) that he is not a complete failure and a total disappointment to everyone in his family.
Ultimately, Rowling does reinforce this psychological symbolism when she has Neville’s Boggart of Severus connected to an association with his grandmother. Also of interest is the fact that prior to Lupin introducing his class to the Boggart, Severus also makes an unexpected appearance in the staff room where he seems to caution Lupin in the form of mocking Neville (something I’ve theorized before may have doubled as a veiled warning about the wisdom of exposing children, especially those like Harry and Neville, to a creature that assumes the form of your fears). So that, once again, the connection between Severus as a source of fear and Neville’s insecurities are emphasized to the reader in such a way that by that point they are very present at the forefront of the reader’s mind and it makes it very easy to accept that Severus would be Neville’s Boggart at face value and leave it there. However, upon closer examination, the symbolic connection between Neville’s fear of Severus and his fears associated with his family is also very present. Notably, when Lupin singles Neville out to lead the class in demonstrating how to handle a Boggart, Rowling makes a point to have Lupin establish the correlation between Severus and Neville’s grandmother:
"Professor Snape... hmmm... Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"
"Er -- yes," said Neville nervously. "But -- I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."
Significantly, Neville first admits to Severus being his Boggart and when Lupin brings up his grandmother he acknowledges that he does not want his Boggart to turn into his grandmother, which might support my theory that Severus is a safer focus for Neville’s anxieties and fears than acknowledging any connection between them and his family would be. Nevertheless, his Boggart does become an amalgamation of Severus and his grandmother and it is only by confronting them together that he is able to overcome his Boggart. Interestingly, one can also observe that the majority of the forms the Boggart assumed in Lupin’s class were primarily surface-level fears that some might associate with childhood or more general phobias, such as clowns or spiders. Even Harry, who Lupin expected would see Voldemort, found himself confronted with a Dementor instead, largely because his most recent experience with a Dementor unearthed the traumatic memories of the night his parents died. As such, one can argue that Harry did not fear the Dementor so much as he feared what the Dementor had come to represent to him, which, while connected to Voldemort in a more intangible sense, had more to do with the trauma of the night when he lost his parents and was a more immediate threat for Harry to process and to fear (rather than the more distant and abstract awareness he would have had of Voldemort existing somewhere in the world, the uncertainty of when he would even return, and what that, i.e. actual war, might even be like for him to experience).  
In fact, Rowling presents us with another example of the Boggart functioning as a representation of deeper fears and anxieties much later in HP: PoA, which further supports the argument that Snape was not Neville’s Boggart just because he had managed to become the sole source of trauma in Neville’s life but rather because he had come to represent the more complex fears that Neville was not prepared --or potentially of an age of maturity yet-- to be able to consciously process or really confront head-on. It is noteworthy that Rowling makes a point to draw the reader’s attention to the fact that Hermione had not had an opportunity to face the Boggart by the end of Lupin’s lesson (He seems like a very good teacher", said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have a turn with the boggart --") and I would posit that it was an intentional build-up to the reveal at a later part of her book where we discover that Hermione and Neville would seem to share very similar fears:
Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming. ‘Hermione!’ said Lupin, startled. ‘What’s the matter?’ ‘P-P-Professor McGonagall!’ Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. ‘Sh-she said I’d failed everything!’ It took a little while to calm Hermione down.
Ultimately, we might question whether it was wise on McGonagall’s part to encourage Hermione to attempt such a rigorous schedule as she did third-year. Particularly as we see the evidence of the pressure (psychological, emotional, etc.) that Hermione has placed on herself knowing that McGonagall received special permission for her to use a Time-Turner as the third-book progresses and Hermione becomes more and more frazzled and anxious. Nevertheless, one is justified in applying some scrutiny to any assertions that McGonagall was Hermione's Boggart because she was a more literal source of fear or trauma for her, so much as one might argue that she had also become a symbolic focal point for the anxieties of a student and that the Boggart merely provided a representation of those deeper, more complex fears. As a Muggle-born, one might argue that Hermione does have certain fears about being found inadequate or unworthy of belonging to the magical world and that she compensates for those fears by placing a great amount of significance on her grades and the approval of her teachers. Therefore, where Trevor may serve as a symbol of validation for Neville, for Hermione it is her grades and the approval of her teachers that similarly assume a symbolic function and help her feel she has validated her right to be at Hogwarts. Thus, just as Severus served as a representation of Neville’s fears of inadequacy when he threatened Trevor or assumed the form of a Boggart in his grandmother’s clothing, likewise, could we argue that McGonagall functioned as a representation of Hermione’s anxieties about disappointing her teachers and failing to demonstrate she belonged at Hogwarts and, more subsequently, the wizarding world.
Both Neville and Hermione might be said to be very keenly aware of their privilege in being accepted into Hogwarts and, perhaps, the most self-conscious of their right to be there as a result. As a Muggle-born, Hermione was able to discover a world of magic despite not being born into it, and we see where the impact of that does seem to instill in her a conscious desire to prove herself and demonstrate that she has a place in that world and at Hogwarts. In contrast, Neville may have been born into the magical world but the pressures and expectations placed on him by his family would appear to have made his own acceptance to Hogwarts feel less secure; as if he were on shaky ground and the privilege could be revoked from him at any moment. It’s no coincidence that in HP: PS Hermione seems to regard being expelled from Hogwarts as worse than death (even if we do allow for hyperbole) or that Neville most demonstrates his courage when standing up for Gryffindor house to preserve the points they have. Rowling could be said to have drawn some intentional parallels between these two characters as early as the first book, and the similarity of their Boggarts and the anxieties that it reveals only further validate this connection.
Moreover, it also showcases for the reader the key difference between him and Harry as two characters who came from abusive family environments. Where Harry is able to acknowledge the wrongness of the way the Dursleys treat him, Neville exists in a world where such behaviors seem to be more normalized and, as a result, he could be said to project his fears onto Severus in lieu of being equipped with the recognition that he would need to acknowledge the more complex source of his fears. In conclusion, Neville may have been socialized to accept the treatment of his family largely because he does love them and he places greater importance on their acceptance of him. Whereas, Severus is a more safe option for him to channel his fears through given he is someone who already has a reputation of “infamy” --unless you’re a Slytherin-- and could be expected to do exactly what Neville most fears; reject him and belittle his competence as a wizard (a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts). Likewise, Harry can more safely push back against Severus than he can the Dursleys, so Severus does become a more convenient outlet for his feelings of powerlessness and anger and one who can be expected to play the role of antagonist that Harry counts on (until HP: DH when he suddenly doesn’t). This is why any contemporary psychological analysis does fall short unless one is prepared to go beyond the issue of Severus being Neville’s Boggart and fairly examine the matter of McGonagall being Hermione’s Boggart and the psychological underpinnings of Boggarts as a concept overall.
In regards to Severus’s reaction towards Lily, I would argue that it could be interpreted a few ways. One could choose to read it as evidence of Severus’s romantic attraction to Lily and his anxiety that Lily might prefer James as a romantic partner over him. Canon could certainly support such an interpretation and it would be more than valid. However, given the full context of the conversation that came before Severus displayed any anxiety, one could also interpret Severus’s response more platonically. Notably, prior to Severus becoming concerned by the idea that James fancies Lily and that Lily might not mind being fancied by him so much (because she fancies him back) they had been arguing over the behaviors of people from their houses and how objectionable they might be. Lily insisted that Mulciber had used “dark magic” on a classmate (which might be hyperbole given there is never any mention to teachers responding to a student using dark magic openly enough for other students to have a conversation about it later) and that Severus shouldn’t associate with him. In turn, Severus alluded to the very real dangers that the Marauders were capable of based off his own first-hand experience. 
Importantly, although he is forbidden to discuss the incident with Remus, he does noticeably try very hard to make Lily aware of the danger but she is not convinced. Interestingly, Lily also makes a point to single-out James and defend him specifically while Severus is criticizing all four Marauders. It is ultimately this that leads Severus to the issue of James and provokes his flustered observation about James’s infatuation with Lily. Thus Severus’s anxiety and his relief when Lily denies having any interest in James could also be interpreted through the lens of Severus’s experiences with the Marauders as bullies who only recently escalated the situation between them with Sirius’s prank to new and much darker levels of malice (and that they were able to do so and received no apparent consequences from any of the authority figures at Hogwarts; in fact, one could argue that from Severus’s perspective it would have seemed Sirius nearly killed him and Dumbledore responded by protecting the Marauders by enforcing his silence). Ultimately, the anxiety might also be read as Severus’s fear for a friend who has ignored his warnings about people he has a legitimate reason to believe can be dangerous and he does not want Lily to get involved with James for that reason. So, there you have it, two different ways of interpreting that scene from the book. 
Once again, thank you for your ask! 
Regards,
Raptured Night
62 notes · View notes
carewyncromwell · 4 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Hey guys! Meet Future!Carewyn Cromwell’s “son” -- Erik Apollo! I was telling ma cherie @dat-silvers-girl​ about this boy, and she asked if I planned on drawing him at some point, so...yeah! Here he is!
His fancast is Lucas Lynggaard Tønnesen as a teenager/adult, though I also used Ryan Buggle as reference while drawing him as a boy. And of course as a teenager, he’s got longer curls, because yeah. I’m so predictable, all of my kids have long hair and/or ponytails at some point. XDDD
Tumblr media
Erik’s full backstory is under the cut, but basically he’s a Muggle-born orphan who was rounded up by the Ministry of Magic during the Second Wizarding War and rescued by Carewyn, Jacob, and several other members of the Order of the Phoenix. After the War, Carewyn fostered Erik out of her own flat since he didn’t have a home to return to, and she singlehandedly supported him financially. Following Erik’s wishes, Carewyn has never formally adopted him or given him her name, but she is his legal guardian and Erik loves and respects her as if she were his mother. He almost always refers to her just as “Ms. Cromwell”, while referring to Lane as “Ms. Lane” and Jacob as...well, either “you,” “Jake,” or “Jacob” just to jibe him. XDD
But yes! Erik is a young wizard, born to a Muggle banker and his wife. When Erik was seven, his father was killed in a bank robbery gone wrong, and Erik took on a lot of extra responsibilities around the house to help support his mother, who was so overcome with grief that she turned to drinking heavily.
Things went from bad to worse, however, when the Ministry of Magic fell to the Death Eaters in 1997. All Muggle-born witches and wizards who were set to start Hogwarts that upcoming school year were rounded up by the Ministry so that they could be tried for supposedly “stealing” magic -- and Erik was no exception.
A group of Death Eater Ministry employees knocked on the Apollo family’s door and immediately grabbed Erik, preparing to take him away. In desperation, Erik’s mother attacked the wizard who had grabbed Erik by spraying him in the face with a bottle of insect repellent. Erik was able to pull free, and his mother screamed at him to run. A second later, she was cut down by a green Killing Curse, and one of the Death Eaters -- Thorfinn Rowle -- lashed a fiery black, rope-like curse that ensnared the eleven-year-old boy around the neck like an animal and yanked him backward so that the wizards could capture him again. The curse left a series of horrible bloody red burn scars around Erik’s neck, which never heal.
Erik was dragged into the courtroom of Dolores Umbridge, head of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission, and railroaded for supposedly “stealing” magic from real witches and wizards, even if the poor boy -- being born to two Muggle parents -- had no idea what was going on or what she was talking about. Despite his terror and confusion, however, Erik was determined not to let the people who had killed his mother see him cower, so he put on the bravest, strongest, proudest face he could, even going so far as to insult Umbridge to her face at one point.
“Don’t talk about my mother like that, you fat old toad!”
“You -- how dare you -- !”
“Say anything else about her and I’ll call you much worse, you -- you foul, ugly, old bint!”
Carewyn Cromwell, who witnessed the tail end of Erik’s trial, was struck by the boy’s courage, considering he was surrounded by about fifty dementors and visibly trembling. As Erik was led away, Carewyn followed covertly behind. As she had several times previously and would do several more times over, the young attorney was able to sneak several prisoners out while they awaited transport to Azkaban, including Erik. Tossing an Invisibility Cloak over the tiny boy, she hurried him to her office and magically shrank him and her other rescued prisoners so they could all fit in her white purse. After work she was then able to smuggle them out to her brother Jacob, who in turn escorted the four prisoners to several safe houses operated by other guards of the Order of the Phoenix. Erik stayed in hiding in one of those houses for the remainder of the War, and it was there that he learned more about the Wizarding World and about the magic he possessed.
After the War, Erik was one of many ex-prisoners awaiting proper compensation for the abuses they suffered at the hands of the Death-Eater-controlled Ministry. Carewyn, who never forgot the tiny boy with the curly blond hair and fiery ice-blue eyes, immediately took it upon herself to handle Erik’s case personally. When she and Erik met again, it was clear that the boy hadn’t forgotten the ginger-haired witch with the red lipstick who had helped him when everyone else wanted him dead. Carewyn represented Erik in court, fighting for proper financial compensation for the wrongful death of his mother and for the Ministry to seek out all remaining property and money in Erik’s parents’ names and place it in a Gringotts trust that Erik could access at age 17. She then filed for legal guardianship of Erik so that he could have a stable place to live and financial support while attending Hogwarts.
Despite his quiet yet blunt demeanor, Erik was deeply moved by Carewyn’s desire to help him, and soon came to see her like a second mother. He’s resisted being formally adopted or calling Carewyn his mother because of his enduring love for his biological parents and the still-painful trauma of losing his mother -- but although he, by nature, is a very reclusive, introverted, blunt, and snarky kid, he adores and deeply respects Carewyn and would probably throw hands with anyone who said a sour word about her. Erik also respects Carewyn’s mother Lane, though to a slightly lesser degree given how pacifistic she is. As for Carewyn’s brother Jacob, Erik likes to sass his face off whenever he’s around. Fortunately Jacob enjoys taking the piss out of Erik too, and so the two often end up acting like a pair of bratty, arrogant children when they’re in the same space, constantly talking smack and subconsciously competing for Carewyn’s attention. (When Erik ends up growing taller than Jacob, the playful rivalry only intensifies, because Jacob is like Edward Friggin’ Elric about his height.) Erik is also on good terms with several of Carewyn’s old friends from school, like Chiara (who, depending on how things go with how I write Carewyn in the future, might be Carewyn’s girlfriend or partner), Talbott, and Jae. He generally is still a bit of a snarky brat around them, but he does treat them with respect and is bluntly straight-forward enough that he won’t be too proud to call them friends of his.
On the note of Erik’s appearance, he started off very tiny, but not unlike Ben Copper, he shot up like a beanstalk at school. He also constantly wears turtlenecks and/or high collars to hide his burn scars, which he’s secretly very self-conscious about. Erik first started growing out his hair to help hide his scar better, as it’s more visible from the back: it’s long enough to be tied back in a small ponytail by the time he’s reached fourth year.
For his intense pride, ambition, determination, and dedication to those few people he lets into his inner circle, Erik is Sorted into Slytherin house when he starts at Hogwarts properly in 1998. Although he as a Muggle-born is pretty instantly a black sheep among his housemates, Erik pretty quickly adopts the attitude of “F*** it” and embraces it whole-hog. He’s actually quite proud of being in the same house that Carewyn was. His best subjects are Defense Against the Dark Arts and Divination, while his worst subjects are History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures. His Boggart is a Dementor, and his Patronus is a Siberian Cat. His other talents include dueling, Healing magic, and playing the trumpet.
Tumblr media
29 notes · View notes
angel-squid-trash-ghost · 4 years ago
Text
Parental Guidance Pt.6
            Hakoda had the children dressed and fed by the time his mother had woken up. She fretted and fussed that he needed to be resting so he can get back to his regular duties. But is seemed his cold had all but disappeared. And for the time, Hakoda was enjoying spending time with his family. It had been too long.
              Hakoda left to go get some burn ointment for Zuko’s burns. He found it strange how adamant they were of not going with him. Not even Sokka wanted to go. Smoke billowed from the small chimney of the healing hut. A noxious smell radiated from the entrance. Kehana always had reminded him of a ghost story Bato used to tell when they were lads. A tale of a winter witch that lived in the middle of nowhere. She never left her home until a blizzard came and would snatch and eat anyone who dared to venture out.
He entered the healing hut. Danak was inside holding a cloth around his thumb. It looked like he had cut it deep. The cloth was turning redder by the second. Danak tapped his foot impatiently. Kehana was hunched over her mortar and pestle grinding some green paste.
“Woman, I came for a bandage. By the time I get one I will have passed out from blood loss or the fumes of whatever poisons is in that brew of yours.” Danak sneered.
“You interrupted me. I will attend to your parchment cut in a moment.” Kehana mumbled.
Danak straightened his broad shoulders, “Parchment cut!? Woman, I am bleeding out here!”
“I do not think it is that bad.” Hakoda chuckled. “And Kehana with your usual Northern charm and impeccable bedside manner.” They both turned to face him.
“Good morning Chief Hakoda. Could you kindly tell this wicked woman that I am in need of aid? Seeing how she is the healer!” Danak finished shouting at Kehana.
Kehana ignored him throwing a dried plant in the pot. Hakoda shook his head. “So what happened to you?”
“I was trying to hold the baby and reached for my paring knife rather than the rattle.” Danak looked away embarrassed.
“How is the baby? No name yet. I bet Yise cannot choose just one.”
 Danak wrapped the cloth again as it was becoming too saturated. “Actually, she has her heart set on an Earth Kingdom name.”
“Well if she is insistent, then just agree you get to name the next one. That is what me and Kya did.” Hakoda tried to smile.
“So, an Earth Kingdom name would be alright?” Danak pondered.
“Of course not! Fire children and Earth kingdom names. Next you will suggest marriages between nations.” Kehana put another plant in the pot making the smell recede.
Hakoda narrowed his eyes. “Marriages between nations already exist in the North.”
“To immoral men who couldn’t resist the sight of opened legs and green eyes. Children born out of wedlock are a pitiful result of war.”
“Pitiful is your outlook of the world. Get this man a bandage before he starts dripping.” Hakoda bit.
Kehana rummaged through a basket of bandages of varying sizes. “Here!” She threw the roll at him, “Now get out and tell your dim wife that she should have proper supplies instead of listening to silly ideas from foreigners.”
“Old bitch.” Danak stomped towards the door, “Feel better, Chief.”
“Thank you, Danak. Well wishes to your daughter and Yise.” Hakoda waved off.
Kehana moved back to her mortar, “What do you need?”
“I need something for my cold.” Hakoda said.
“Then why are you here? Ask your mother to make you soup.”
“I also need burn ointment.”
“For whom?” Kehana paused her grinding.
He smiled in disbelief, “Does it matter? I asked for it.”
“I’m not wasting anymore of my good medicine on that ugly thing.”
Hakoda growled, “Watch your mouth. Stop your assuming and just give me what I ask for. ”
Kehana hissed. “Your affinity for him is concerning. You are Chief. You have an obligation to protect-”
“And your obligation is to provide medical help to my village! You left a man to bleed from a knife wound while you mind your concoctions.”
“Is it for him?” Kehana ticked her head. A wild look came to her pale blue eyes. “It is summer. Many firebenders bloom at this time. Best to stomp a spark out before it becomes a flame.”
Hakoda watched her face warp into something hideous. Monstrous. “The burn ointment please.”
Kehana took a step closer, “I suggest you take him out far and club him like a seal.”
Hakoda couldn’t believe his ears. He curled his lip, “You’re disgusting.”
“Then if you don’t have the… gumption, there are many plants here that will do the trick.”
“Give me the ointment. Now.”
“If he is a firebender, he cannot be here!” Kehana ran to his face.
“Kehana! Give me the ointment!” Hakoda would doubt if the next village over did not hear him.
Kehana glowered a few moments. She spun around rapidly almost hitting Hakoda with her hair. She snatched a corked jar and shoved it in his hands. “What happened to your beard?” She smiled showing her worn teeth.
Hakoda tilted his chin away from her, “There will be a village meeting tomorrow. You are not to attend. Am I understood?”
“Of course, Chief Hakoda.” The crazed smile became wider.
               He left without another word.
               It was a relief to be back inside. The village had given him odd looks on his way home. Someone was surely to come by later and ask what happened. In a small village things get dull. Gossip of a confrontation will be good entertainment for a few hours.
               Sokka was siting surprisingly still brow twitching as Katara and Zuko braided his hair. His mother was smiling softly holding a cup of tea. She was the first to see him. She had lost her smile. He called Zuko over. He looked very different from the distraught boy he held last night. He bounced over to Hakoda happy and affectionate.
“What are you two doing to Sokka?” Hakoda didn’t want the children to hear any of his previous tone.
Katara skipped over abandoning Sokka’s hair, “We’re making him pretty.” She sat next to Zuko.
“I’m already pretty.” Sokka rejected.
Zuko and Katara giggled. Zuko cocked his head, “Are you ok, Sir.”
“I am.” Hakoda said softly.
                 Zuko put his hands on Hakoda’s cheeks. Hakoda eyes drifted to his scar. Realizing this, he looked away. Zuko’s arms moved around his neck. The scar grazed his jaw. Zuko hugged him. Hakoda reciprocated. Katara joined with a kiss. And Sokka from behind. Kanna made her way over too. Her arms encircling them all. Hakoda breathed in deep. Their love radiating into him. He felt fulfilled. An image of cobalt blue eyes shining with delight, flashed in his mind.
When they broke apart Zuko was smiling, “Better?”
Hakoda nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” He took the jar from inside his pocket, “Let’s get this on just now. Shall we?”
               Hakoda unwrapped Zuko’s fingers. He could tell the boy was putting on a brave face as he revealed the raw and peeling burns. He uncorked the jar making everyone cover their noses. Did everything that hag made have to smell so terrible? Katara handed him a brush and he got to work on applying the ointment.
“Do they hurt?” Sokka asked over his shoulder.
“Not bad.” Zuko winced, “My face hurt more.”
Katara watched as if she were supervising his work. Zuko saw this and put a finger on her forehead. He said something in Fire’s Tongue, and she responded. Zuko said something else mentioning Kehana’s name.
“Was Kehana ever mean to you?” He watched their faces drop.
“Kehana is not nice.” Zuko said simply.
“She’s more than not nice. She’s horrible. She has witch’s fingers and rats in her hair! She’s ugly and I hate her.” Katara raved.
“She said bad things about Katara’s and Sokka’s mommy.” Hakoda barely heard Zuko say.
He distracted himself with his task, “Do not worry about her children. You do not have to go to her if you do not want to.” He set his jaw so he would not scowl.
“When I’m a master waterbender I can just make a snowstorm and whoosh her away!” Katara declared.
“Yeah. And I can throw my boomerang!” Sokka held up his fist.
“She will get a smack upside the head from me if she keeps messing with my grandbabies!” Kanna added.
The children laughed. Hakoda shook his head chuckling. Kehana should run for the hills.
“Well to be a master waterbender you need a teacher.” He said to his daughter.
“Yeah but there’s no one here to teach me.” Katara shrugged.
“Which is why I am going to send for one. The only waterbenders are in the North. It is our only option.”
“Zuko will need a teacher too.�� Katara looked at Zuko.
“No. I don’t want to firebend.” Zuko added quickly.
“Why is that?” Hakoda asked.
Zuko looked at him like he had three heads. “Firebending is bad.”
Hakoda put down the brush. He held Zuko by the wrists as he had done the night before, “Zuko. We have suffered much. All of us.” He looked around sadly. “By men who can control fire. They use their fire to burn towns and hurt people. What do you see there?” Hakoda pointed to the hearth.
Zuko paused, “I see fire.”
“Exactly. It keeps us warm, and cooks are food, and gives us light. We need fire to survive.” He released the small wrists, “You want to do good right?”  
“Yes!” Zuko said desperately.
“Then that is what makes you good. Do not loose apart of yourself to please others.” Hakoda put his hand on his silky hair, “Never forget who you are.”
“Well said my son!” Kanna smacked her knee and held her chin high.
“You should be proud to be a bender.” Katara put her forehead to his, “We can learn together.”
“But you still have to do weapons training!” Sokka tackled Zuko.
“I will announce a village meeting tomorrow. I want the whole village to meet you formally. And I will make the announcement that you will live with us-”
“Yay!” Katara flung herself to her best friend. “I’m so happy!”
“Me too!” Zuko hugged her.
Hakoda shook with laughter, “And then we will make you an honorary citizen of the Southern Water Tribe.”
“What’s that mean?” Zuko sat up.
Sokka gave him a firm pat on the back, “That means you’ll be one of us and no one can say otherwise! You’ll be a warrior!”
“And a bender.” Katara cheered.
Hakoda nodded, “And Water Tribe.”
“And my newest grandson! Oh! Come here!” Kanna scooped him up and gave Zuko the tightest hug he had ever received.
               The next evening, the entire village had gathered to the communal hut. Hakoda wore a ceremonial Artic fox shawl and a band of seashells. He carried his Whale bone spear unwrapped showing its sharp point. Kanna wore her favorite Snow Leopard Caribou stole albeit the season. She didn’t get to wear it often and would never miss a chance to dress up. She looked dignified on her favorite stool in her faint blue gown and silver jewelry. Both Katara and Sokka were dressed in darker blue summer outfits with a variety of beads strewn in their hair. And Zuko in an ashen grey. Gran-Gran had given him a braid wrapped in cord. A Water tribe symbol of humility and innocence.
               Family groups made a circle around the hut so everyone could be seen and heard. Hakoda sat at the point with his mother to his right and the children to his left. Once everyone was settled, dried meat was passed around. It was believed a full stomach would make for a better temperament.
“Good evening.” Hakoda began.
“Good evening.” Everyone responded in their own time.
“Some of you may wonder why we are gathered here today and other’s probably have already guessed.” He looked around the room, “Firstly, I would like to address that my daughter, Katara, is a waterbender!”
Many cheered and gave their congratulations. Katara gladly accepted the praise. She slipped her hand into Zuko’s
“Wonderful news!”
“We finally have a bender!”
“How will she be trained?” Vakita, Moak’s wife asked. Moak raised a brow.
“I will have to send for a teacher. I have written a letter to Chief Arnook. I will send this letter in the morning.” Hakoda said absolutely.
“Another Northerner?” This time it was it was Kursru to speak.
“I understand your concern. But we have no choice in this matter.”
“It will be good to have a bender. Send for as many Northerners as you need. We need little Katara to learn as much as possible.” Bato said. No one was more loyal and understanding than Bato.
“Thank you, Mr. Bato.” Katara held a regal pose, “I have accepted my duty as sole waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. I will train hard and endlessly until I am confident that I will be able to protect my people. I look forward to learning and mastering my element.” Katara recited the speech her grandmother helped her write.
“Does anyone else have any questions for me or Katara about this subject?” Hakoda asked.
“Yeah, can you not freeze us in an ice block again?” Noaluk groaned. Moak swiftly smacked the boy in the back of the head.
“That depends.” Katara said haughtily.
“That is enough. Any more questions? No? Ok. The matter is settled.” Hakoda pounded the spear to the ground. “Our next subject is probably something you all have been very eager to speak to me about.” He looked around the room again. Everyone stayed silent waiting for their turn to say aloud what they have been keeping to themselves. “We have had a guest here for quite some time. Almost seven months now. I understand that opinions about our guest have been divided. Some hateful even. I would like to introduce our guest.” Hakoda held out his hand.
               Zuko looked around at the faces of all the village. Big and small were all staring directly at him. He felt stuck but shifted slightly. He watched their eyes move with him. He felt like a mouse trying to creep around a Mink Snake. No matter which way he moved, he would probably end up bit.
Zuko curled inwards. “Don’t worry. I’m right here.” Katara whispered in his ear.
He moved to Sir and sat in his lap with a finger to his mouth and his eyes down. “Ah-ah. Sit up straight and face everyone.” Sir said pleasantly moving his hand away. “Speak clearly now.”
“Hello. My name is Zuko.” Zuko felt his heart would burst from his chest.
There were oohs and ahs from the circle.
“Why does he talk funny?” Someone asked. Zuko didn’t see who but it sounded like an older boy.
Sir gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I like to sew and play outside.”
“And hit people with sticks.” Zuko could guess who said that.
“I came on a boat from the Fire Nation-”
“We know this. When is he going back?” It was an adult’s voice.
Zuko didn’t think his heart could beat faster, “I look forward to being a productive…” Zuko couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say as the room got louder with murmurs and whispers. Zuko went to stand to run away.
Sir held him in place, “We do not run when things get tough.” He said into his ear, “We stand strong and face our obstacles. If one way does not work, then we choose another.”
Zuko took a deep breath. He looked to Katara. She nodded. “I’m here.” She said in Fire’s Tongue. Zuko barely heard it amongst the growing noise.
He stood from Sir’s lap. “My name is Zuko!” The village went quiet. “I like to sew with Gran-Gran and play outside with Katara and Sokka. Katara teaches me Water Language and Sokka teaches me how to use weapons. They are my friends. Gran-Gran and Sir teach me lessons and how to be good. I want to be good. I want to be Water Tribe!”
“He can’t be Water Tribe!”
“Is he crazy?”
“Did you hear that? He wants to be one of us.”
“I think that’s a good thing!” Yise shouted. Everyone turned to Yise who was cradling her baby. Danak tried to hold her still, but she snatched herself away, “Why would we send the boy back just to grow up and be another Fire Nation soldier? If he wants to be Water Tribe, let him.”
“You foolish woman! You have always not been all there in the head!” The widower Lohara cried.
“Do not speak to her like that!” Danak shouted, “Go ahead sweetie. Finish what you were saying.” He grimaced suddenly having a change of heart.
“All I mean is that he is a little boy! He is not a danger to us!”
“He is Fire Nation!” Kursru complained.
“He is dangerous. He hit my son with a stick.” Vakita pulled her son’s closer to her.
“Because they attacked me and Sokka! Zuko was being a good friend! Noaluk and Yoton were being bullies!” Katara cut in. Zuko looked at her in awe.
“What if he turns out to be a firebender?!”
“Then he will be a danger to us all!”
“I am a firebender!” Zuko yelled.
               Zuko with all his fury unintentionally summoned sparks to his hands. They did not spit like before but crackled like kindling when he clenched his fists. If Katara could be brave, then so could he. Several men stood. Zuko held his ground. Katara rushed to his side. Hakoda pounded his spear and demanded they sit. But when Kanna stood the men froze.
“Shame! All of you! Shame!” Kanna glared at every last man who stood.
“You say shame, but the Fire Nation killed my husband and left my children without a father!”
“And my brother and his son.”
“And my wife!” Hakoda bellowed. “We have all lost to the Fire Nation!”
Kanna took Zuko and Katara to sit back down with her. She kept them both firmly to her chest. “All of us. Even him.”
“More of reason he should stay. Look at what they did to him.” Yise pointed to Zuko’s scar. The baby started to wail.
Sokka rose. He couldn’t hold back anymore, “You think letting Zuko live here is the same as forgiving the Fire Nation! It’s not. I will never forgive the man who killed my mother! We’re sitting here arguing when there is no argument. Zuko doesn’t remember anything before the ship. How can he be loyal to people he doesn’t remember? But Zuko is loyal to us. He made a promise to my sister that they would be friends forever. And he really means forever. And I know he will keep that promise because Zuko is the most honest person I know! Yeah I’m looking at you Jiliruq!” Sokka pointed dramatically.
“I didn’t take your sharpening stone!” The older boy groaned.
Sokka shook his fist. “I know it was you! You were the only one near my stuff-”
“Sokka.” Hakoda warned.
Sokka exhaled, “Alright. When it all comes down to it, Zuko is going to stay with us. He is not gonna run around melting igloos, or eat babies, or steal people’s stuff. Katara froze the porridge this morning. Should we send her away too? Zuko’s a boy like me. Who’s lost just as much as we have and wants to be one of us. If an Earth Kingdom ditch digger washed up, we’d hand him a blue parka and a spear, right?” Some in the circle laughed, “Then we’ll do the same for Zuko. I mean he’s a human heater spit out by the ocean!” There was more laughter, “If La wants him here then I want him here too.”
                The crowd spoke quietly on their take of his point. Zuko eyes traced the faces of the families around the room. He saw Yoton quietly speaking to his parents and Ms. Yise to her husband. The air in the room had gotten lighter. Zuko felt like he could finally take an entire inhale. Katara seemed to relax too. Her grip on his hand had loosened some and her face wasn’t wound as tight.
“But Chief Hakoda.” Bato spoke, “This arrangement is very unusual.”
“Yes. I think it will be a good change of pace.”
Bato nodded at the nonchalant answer. He knew Hakoda had already made up his mind.
“Does anyone have anything else to say?” Hakoda surveyed the circle.
Everyone had digressed to reserved utterings.
Bato let out a dry laugh, “I suppose he is to stay then.”
“Then the matter is settled.” Hakoda pound the spear again.
Kanna kissed both of their heads. “Did you two hear that? No more worries ok.”
               Zuko let that sink in. No more worries. Katara beamed brightly. Sokka was smiling too. He came over to pat him on the back. Sir motioned for him to come over again. Zuko reluctantly untethered his finger’s from Katara’s and crawled to Sir. He directed Zuko in front of him and look out a beautiful porcelain jar. It was inlayed with mother of pearl in the shape of a Snow Eagle. Inside was a thick paint made of ash and squid ink. Sir dipped two fingers in and smeared two lines from Zuko’s hairline to his brow. He dipped one more time wiping his fingers across his forehead.
“This boy is now my ward!” Sir announced strong and proud. He turned Zuko around, “He is now known as Tulujok, child of the ocean!”
               Tulujok. Water language for Crow-Owl. Katara joined him again. She snuggled into his cheeks.
“You are happy.” Zuko giggled.
Katara squeezed around him. “Aren’t you?”
Her smile made him want to leap for the moon. “I am always happy when you are happy.”
                 Life had only improved for Zuko after that. Although he had to split his time between Sokka and Katara. In the morning he would go to weapons training with Sokka and sometimes Sir would join them. After a while, the sight in his left had diminished to nothing. He was constantly swiveling his head further earning his name of Tulujok. He had to work twice as hard with half his sight. Eventually ,with weeks of relentless practice ,his spear had flown straighter and his arrows piercing their practice target. Never dead on. But knife play was always his calling. With the help of Sokka and Sir he was quickly becoming a skilled knife wielder.
                 His afternoons were shared with Katara and Gran-Gran in the igloo. His knife experience was put to the test when he skinned his first Seal. Gran-Gran had guided him through the rite earning him respect from the other home keepers. After chores, Zuko would help Katara and Gran-Gran with dinner. There was nothing like sharing stew with family after a full day of learning.
                 As for Katara’s and Zuko’s bending, neither had made much progress. Their lack of direction made for lack of control over their elements. There were  accidents here and there. Zuko sneezing a flame or Katara hiccupping tea frozen were common mishaps around the igloo. And when Zuko and Katara had their first fight, Hakoda physically had to hold the children down before the igloo had caved in on them all. It had all started over something as trivial as a shared spinning top. Each of their screams either engorging the hearth or making cracks in the ceiling. It didn’t take them more than an hour for the best friends to make up. Each promising they’d never fight again.
                   Winter had come again. The ocean had frozen for miles out creating an icy labyrinth. There wouldn’t be another visitor for at least three more months. Zuko didn’t like the winter. He hadn’t before, but with the sun not giving him it’s light, something in him had weakened. Katara had seemed the opposite. She thrived under the silvery moon beams.
                   Snow steadily fell outside. Zuko was curled up by the fire. He had found a shiny black stone at archery practice. It was so beautiful. He knew Katara would love to see it. He traced over the smooth stone reflecting the fire’s light in its surface. The moment the furs moved Zuko was upright. Katara skipped happily to him.
“Zuko! Guess what? Ms. Vakita is going to have a baby!” Katara said excitedly.
“That is great news!” Zuko threw up his hands. The stone glinted.
“What is that?” Katara tried to grab his hand.
Zuko easily evaded her. He grinned, “It’s a surprise. Close your eyes.”
“Why? What is it?” Katara rolled to her knees.
“Close your eyes.” Zuko insisted in Fire’s Tongue.
Katara closed and covered her eyes, “Ok. I promise I’m not peeking.”
Zuko took her hand and placed the dark stone in the middle of her palm. Katara looked down to see the shining crystal. She gasped.
“Zuko! It’s so pretty! Where did you find it?” She too examined it in the light.
“At the archery range. Do you like it?” he was on his hands and knees quaking to hear her answer.
“It’s for me?!” Katara’s eyes glittered.
“Of course!” Zuko sat on his heels.
               Katara was just about to hug Zuko when a commotion came from outside. Men were yelling in alarm. Zuko pulled Katara up and ran to Gran-Gran. Gran-Gran was on alert listening for any news. Katara’s started to think dark thoughts. Another raid. After all the time of peace. Another raid. More murder. This time they would come for her. And take her away like all the other waterbenders. She looked at Zuko. They would take him too. They would make him a soldier and make him kill. Katara started to cry. Zuko clutched her face. The look in his eye was striking.
“Don’t worry. I will protect us.” Zuko showed Katara his knife.
“A ship! A ship!”
“Zuko get your parka on now! Katara grab a blanket. We’re going to the communal hut.” Gran-Gran gathered what appeared to be an emergency bag. “Hurry both of you!”
               Katara and Zuko did as they were told then helping their Gran-Gran pack water and dried food. She pushed the children out of the igloo with Zuko faithfully in front holding his knife ready to strike. Katara knew she might have to run. Scenario after dreadful scenario played in her mind. Flashes of her mother’s face kept appearing. The begging, the shrieking, the smell.
              There was a terrible cracking sound coming from the ice as it broke. The ship was getting closer. Other families were running to the communal hut. Katara could see Sokka running towards them with a real spear and not his wooden practice one. Sokka took the bag from Gran-Gran and went in front of Zuko. The cold stung her face nearly freezing her tears. Zuko locked his arm in hers. He was walking fast but not too fast in front of Gran- Gran. He turned his head back and forth trying to catch any and all movement. Katara steeled herself and did the same. She saw her father shouting orders. If the Fire nation were going to come back, she would be ready this time. She no longer had a mommy to cling to. But she had Sokka and Gran-Gran and Zuko. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to anyone she loved ever again.
“They’re Water Tribe!”
“They’re Northerners!”
               Katara fell to her knees in relief.
20 notes · View notes
vesperlionheart · 5 years ago
Note
Sirens of the Sea, 12, and gaasaku for a friend. If you do it thank you so much
The Spirit of the Oasis - GaaSaku  (5.5K)
There are stories of miracles that are whispered in shadows, behind hands, and over night time campfires because they need to be, and not because they are true or worth believing. Least of these stories are the ones of the oases that bloom for the pure of heart who are most in need of them. Magic carpets, cities of brass, and enchanted flutes were all a poor man’s fantasy and Gaara was no longer a poor man, so there was no use in believing in such stories. 
“You think you’re too good for old Baba’s stories?” Chiyo teased Gaara.”My grandson thought that way too.”
“I’m not going to end up like your grandson,” Gaara grumbled, hating how he had to show his elder such respect when all she did was tease him. 
“That’s what he said too, when I told him about my lover who said the same damn thing,” Chiyo laughed, slapping her knee while her brother fed another log to the fire from beside her, silent as ever. 
Gaara winced, unable to clear his mind of the mental image of old bad Chiyo having someone she could call a lover. It was such a dirty sounding word when she said it. 
“That’s...understandable I suppose,” Gaara forced to grit out.
“You ain’t gonna ask me what my lover did or what happened to ‘em?” Chiyo whined playfully.
Gaara really didn’t want to ask. 
“What happened, elder?”  
But he was a good kid.
Chiyo’s beady black eyes sparkles from underneath the sagging of her skin, heavy with bushy gray brows. “Hey commissioned a friend to map the desert for the brass rider and got that far before the way was no longer for them.”
“What does that mean, baba?” Temari asked. 
Behind Gaara his brother and sister sat on their own mats, drinking from the elder’s stash of wine and gorging themselves on her food. Gaara took only enough to be polite but did not consume. He was the head of his tribe now, he couldn’t afford to piss off an elder. 
“He had received the words of his elder, to travel across the desert, to seek the aid of the brass rider, and follow where it would lead. But with no faith, he relied on his friend the cartographer to map his steps. Without faith he was a lost one, as was my daughter, as was her husband, as was their child, my grandson.”  
Baba Chiyo reached into her sack cloth dress and pulled out the blue powder before throwing it onto the fire, changing the color of the flames and making their burning smell sweeter. Kankuro leaned forward in his seat, excited by the change blue powder produced. It was a simple traveler’s trick, nothing but small science, but to a people without education, Gaara understood how it could seem like magic. 
“It is a sin to seek without faith.”
“It is foolish indeed,” Temari agreed, always the faithful daughter. When the mystics had said the murderer of their mother and not she who was first born would lead their tribe she had bent her head in thanks for the prophecy and never questioned it. She should have hated him but her faith saved him from that life of neglect, so as much as Gaara wanted to sneer and think himself wiser than the superstitious sand witch, he would honor her words and listen. 
“Are we called to seek, wise woman?” Kankuro asked. 
Chiyo cackled and rocked back in her seat while her brother poked at the fire. “Are you destined for greatness, or does the bird long to fly? Which is easier to answer, I ask you?”
“It is a great honor to be so star blessed,” Temari whispered, watching Kankuro with soft eyes and softer thoughts. When she looked to Gaara her softness didn’t lessen and he felt all the safer for it. In the absence of their mother, Temari had been his maternal comfort for all those years. He would not deny her this. 
“Speak of our fate, elder,” Gaara said as he lowered his face to the sand and the ground. He touched it to his fingers and closed his eyes. “I beseech you, speak it.” 
Between them the blue fire crackled and the desert night spun on. Eventually, Chiyo breaks the silence and Gaara knows he is allowed to lift his face to her once more. 
“I will say this then, you own a great and vast land, and on that land you have built up your father’s estate so that is the envy of others, but it yet lacks three things. The first is this, a talking bird who speaks only wisdom, second is the tree that sings prophecies, and third is the golden water from the fountain without end. Come into possession of these three things and you will be made far greater than any that came before you in the tribe of the Wind.” 
“Oh elder, these are grade items indeed, but how would we begin to find them?” Temari asked, already sounding in love with the idea. Gaara stayed quiet, content to honor his sister with whatever she wanted within reason. 
Chiyo waved to the fire and the draft that followed her hand made the flames flicker. “You should travel for three days in the direction of the sun’s birthing, and then you will find a fallen king who has traded his riches for humility. Treat him kindly and he will tell you where to find your three treasures.” 
Gaara glanced sideways at his brother, grimacing at the star struck look in Kankuro’s eyes. Sometimes he was no better than their sister when it came to matters of fate. 
The night grew long and Gaara bid Chiyo and her brother farewell, departing with his siblings back to their tribe and back to their manor. They slept soundly through the night, but the morning had nothing but turmoil for them. 
As luck would have it, Kankuro became obsessed with the idea and in short order packed up and headed out on his adventure to seek his fortune, both for himself and for the family. And for all of Temari’s faith she did not want to risk the life of her brother. She begged Kankuro to reconsider, but the middle child was unswayable. 
“Take your hawk with you,” Gaara instructed. “If he should return to us for any reason we will know you have perished and mourn you properly.”
The suggestion only made Temari more upset but Kankuro gathered up the leathers and hood for his hunting hawk and promised the both of them he would return with enough riches to make them sultans.  
Yet seven days later his hawk returned itself to their garden and the whole house mourned for the loss of the firstborn son. 
“This is the price of faith,” Gaara said to his sister in his anger, only to regret his words hours later once his spirit had cooled. 
He tried to apologize but Temari had locked the doors to her chambers and forbid the servants entry. She kept her doors shut no matter the hour of the day. Gaara ordered her favorite dishes be made, her favorite coffee be brewed, and even burned her favorite spices to coax her out, but his sister was unreachable for days. 
Four days later Gaara had reached the end of his patience and ordered her doors be broken down. He refused to let his sister starve herself and leave him too. She was all he had left and the thought of life without her-
“She’s not here, my lord!” 
Gaara’s thoughts unraveled. “What do you mean?” 
The servant produced a note and bowed low. “She has fled and taken her hunting hawk with her. Mercy, my lord, we did not know.”
Kankuro’s headstone had not been planted yet and already he was to commission a second? The thought turned his blood to ice.
 “Make ready my horse.”   
Gaara rode for a day to the edge of his territory before he saw his sister’s hawk, flying to greet him along the way. In the wild desert he cried aloud, summoning it down so that he could weep over it’s feathers and scream for the audience of his animals. No one could hear him in the desert so he let his heart show. Nowhere else would he be so honest. 
“You have forsaken me, you have gone where I can not!” he cried into the sands for nearly the rest of the day. 
When night fell Gaara noticed his horse had run off and the hawk had disappeared with it, leaving him truly alone. He took shelter under the shade of a rock outpost and rested there. 
The morning came, and with it, thirst. All his food and water had been tied up under his saddle bags, leaving him with nothing more than his shoes and clothes. He had a small bag of money, but in the middle of the desert it was more worthless than dirt. 
“I have wasted too many tears on my family, soon I will join them. If only there would be someone left to miss me.”
Gaara stood and trekked in the direction of his home, not realizing his sense of direction was off.  At the end of the second day he was weak and too tired to rouse himself further, so he took shelter under some more rocks and cried without tears. 
He was the youngest, what were they thinking making him their chief! He had been the only one with enough good sense to resist Chiyo’s silly superstitions and look where that got him; his faithful sister lost, his older brother dead. 
His head swam with exhaustion and dehydration, so when he looked up and saw an oasis growing out of the dead earth he did not believe the sight of it. How silly for his brain to play such a mean trick on him. An oasis would bloom for the faithful in their time of need, the old stories said. 
 Out of all his siblings he had the least faith. What had faith done for Kankuro or Temari? 
But his body felt like something he no longer controlled as he roused himself and staggered towards the mirage, smelling wildflowers and water in the air. His feet touched the stone and then the earth, soaked and wet before he fell onto his knees and plunged his hands into the water, sinking them up to his elbows in the cool pool. He cried aloud, bringing some to his mouth to drink. He turned greedy for the taste of it and gorged himself until he felt like an ocean rested in his belly. 
“Satisfied?”  a voice teased from somewhere behind him. 
Gaara turned, stumbling to see, perched atop one of the rocks, a woman with pale hair, paler skin, and eyes as vibrant as emeralds. Her smile cut her lips into something spellbinding, as Gaara found himself transfixed at the sight of her. 
She laughed at his expression and rolled off the rocks, drifting more than falling. Behind her the long train of her dress trailed, curling with the breeze until she stood in front of him. Gaara felt his throat grow tight as he tried to swallow and keep his eyes off the way a slit in the fabrics cut all the way up to her thigh, showing off leagues of soft flesh. 
“You look even cuter when you’re startled, I think,” she laughed, kneeling down so she was closer to his level. 
Gaara’s eyes kept wavering, too amazed by the curve of her uncovered shoulders and bare arms. He could see so much of her, more than he was used to seeing in a desert landscape where sundeath was as common as thirst. 
She wasn’t human.
“Temptress,” he choked out. “I’ve been seduced into your lair and now you’re going to-to kill me here.”
She blinked in surprise and then burst out laughing, standing suddenly to better grab at her stomach as the mirth of his words shook her shoulders. “Temptress?” she gasped. “I’m not even an angel this time? You must be a heretic of some sort.”
“I know no spring or oasis would open itself for one with my miniscule faith. I am not delusional,” Gaara struggled to answer.  
“I’m not going to eat you, silly heathen.”
“Then you mean to deflower me!” he accused, backing away, face red and warm from the admission.
“A tempting offer, but no. I’m not in the habit of seducing half dead heartbroken boys so you may rest easy, Gaara of the wind tribe, I’m not here to do you any ill.” She swept the train of her dress behind her and dipped low into an old fashioned bow from before bows became reserved for men exclusively. “I am Sakura, and I simply wished to save your life.” 
“Wh-what benefit is there for you to do so?”
“Are you not wealthy?” she teased.
Gaara reached for the pouch of coins and tossed the bag at her feet. It opened and spilled, scattering glittering coins of silver, bronze, and gold. He eyed her warily to see what she would do next.
Sakura sighed and rolled her eyes, tilting her head back to better see the stars. Behind her the short cut of her sunset pink hair shifted, nearly ethereal in how it moved without touching her shoulders.  
“I have no use for your silver, boy, take these back,” she said, motioning with her bare toes to the spilled coins. “I risk so much for far greater rewards, such you could never pay.” 
“What do you want from me then?” Gaara asked, making no move to gather his money pouch. 
“Sit with me among the flowers and talk awhile. In the morning I will send you off with food and water. I swear upon the stars no ill will come to you from me here in this oasis.” 
Gaara hesitated. The creature before him was not human, she was a being of magic and starlight, one who could bloom waters in the desert and command the plants to flower with fruit. Beautiful as she was, Gaara didn’t want to make the mistake of thinking her mediocre. If she was truly a creature from Chiyo’s tales, he needed to show her reverence.
Gaara shifted, folding his legs under him until they were bent. He touched his face to the ground and bowed low. “Great spirit, I thank you for your mercy. I shall do as you bid me.”
“Sakura,” she breathed, chuckling. “Please just call me Sakura. Now stand and join me by the flowers. You must tell me of your quest.” 
Gaara climbed to his feet and saw her hand offered where he could reach and grab it. He hesitated before accepting, and Sakura led him to a natural stone table with benches on either side. A pair of goblets had already been set out with sweet wine and plates overflowing with ripe fruits waited for him.
He sat and told her the story of his sister and brother, about how he wanted to at the very least, find their bodies and bring them back. He told her of Chiyo’s stories, of the talking bird and other treasures. He told her of the Wind Tribe, of his people who were strong and vast. He told her of the prophecies around his birth. He told her of the elders who raised him. He told her of his favorite steed, and hunting bird. He told her of where he ran the fastest and where he meditated. 
Before he could help it, he was spilling all his secrets to her, eager to appease her and win a small smile. She was a creature of magic, maybe even one of the star children. It made sense to appease her like how he appeased Chiyo and the sultan. 
But he never wanted Chiyo to smile at him that much. 
He never wished the sultan to laugh at his stories or ask him more. 
Soon the dawn’s pale light cut open the sky and filled it with color. Sakura stood from their table and he watched her move, marveling at the way she seemed more like water than flesh. 
“Where are you going?” he asked, standing to follow her. She stopped at the edge of her oasis and pointed. 
“I will show you where to go. Three days hard ride from here there will be a humbled king who speak to you. Be kind and listen, for he will tell you what you need to know,” Sakura said. 
“What about you?” Gaara asked.
Sakura smiled coyly and cupped two hands around her lips. She cried out, loud and clear a whistle that cut the desert air in half. A moment later Gaara heard the whinny of his favorite mare. 
“Look, she approaches,” Sakura said of his horse. “And with her she brings Temari’s hunting hawk. Take them both with you.”
“Sakura.” When she didn’t respond Gaara touched her hand, drawing her attention once more. “What will happen to you now?”
“I will go to where I always go. Should you be in need of me again, call out at nightfall and I may just appear.” 
“Promise?”
“Never,” Sakura laughed before she melted under his hand into water foam along with the rest of her oasis. 
Gaara reached for her desperately, trying to gather her up, but the foam dissolved on his fingers and even the scent of her was a memory.  
“Sakura?” he tried calling. Only the wind tickled his face, teasing him as his mare whinnied for his attention. 
After calling and searching, Gaara realized Sakura really was gone and that he had best do as she instructed, so he mounted his mare and turned the horse in the direction of the humbled king. Fed and watered his horse carried him over vast distances until dusk fell and he turned in for the night, taking shelter under the stars. 
He made a fire to fight off the desert cold and ate and drank of his goods. Before the stars could come out he dared one more call to Sakura. 
At first there was nothing. He watched and waited but no oasis bloomed. There were no flowers there was no water and no Sakura. 
“Was it a silly dream?” he wondered aloud.
“Dreams rarely feed us, Gaara,” Sakura teased, sitting down beside him. 
He nearly jumped when her arm brushed his. “Sakura? Wh-what are you doing here? You didn’t come when I called.”
“I am not your servant, young lord,” she teased, batting at his face when he came too close. “I shall come and go as I please. You are lonely, you need company, don’t you?” 
“I am quite lonely out here. Who else would listen to my voice but the wind.” 
“Oh the wind makes horrible conversation, all it talks about is the same dull things.”
Gaara smiled and settled back into place beside the fire. “Will you tell me things tonight?”
“Hmm?” Sakura arched a single brow in question.
“I’m sure I bored you plenty with all my useless chatter. Tell me about yourself this time,” he said. 
Sakura’s smile was coy and teasing. “Oh, you wish to know my secrets, do you?”
“I wish to know more about my friend.”
 Sakura froze, utterly still as her eyes stayed wide, fixed on him. Then her lips moved but there was no sound, no voice to match their shape. Gaara knew what she meant to say.
“Yes, my friend, if you’ll allow it. I could also worship you, but i’m not sure how appropriate that might be if you think me a heathen. But, I think we could be friends if you will allow it.” 
After another moment Sakura stiffly nodded, seeming more human in her hesitance.  “A friend… I don’t think I’ve had one of those in a long while,” Sakura breathed.  “I’ll allow it.” 
Now it was Gaara’s turn to smile and Sakura’s turn to be thrown by the sight of it. “Now, will you tell me more about yourself? Do you have brothers or sisters?” 
“I have neither, or if I did, I do not remember them.” Sakura glanced towards the fire before waving her hand before it. The flames rand higher and thicker, casting long shadows. “It’s been a long time since I could remember my human days.”
“You were human?”
“Once.” 
Sakura waved her hand again and Gaara saw images in the fire begin the manifest. A small girl chased after a golden ball that fell into a hole. She cried and promised anything if only she could have her ball back, as young ones are bound to do. 
The flames shifted until a serpent came along, asking for a favor in return for the retrieval of her golden ball. ‘Anything, anything,’ the child promised. The serpent returned with her ball and promised her it would return for his favor when she came of age. 
The girl returned to her grandmother and learned the arts of her lineage until it was time for her to wed. That is when the serpent returned with his son, a prince who she would wed.
The story was pretty enough to be a fairytale children listened to before bed, but the serpent prince was not the hero he dressed himself to be. Instead of taking the girl as his wife, he took her to his city in the desert and dressed her in jewels before enchanting her along with the rest of the city. 
Before the enchantment could freeze her in place she begged her husband for the reason behind his crimes. He revealed himself to be a wicked creature, a demon long since freed from his ancient seal. The city was his trap, stocked with gold and treasures of the earth and flesh for whoever could find it. 
Many men tried, but the city was made by demon hands and trapped with trickery and evil. No one made it very far into the city before their sins consumed them. Men went mad on the walls, listening to the songs of siren voices. Adventures went insane at the sight of such treasures. The few who made it to the girl’s final resting place saw her on a throne and dripping with jewels. Those who reached for her with lust in their heart were struck dead by her bronz servants. 
And all the blood that ever flowed only fed the demon underneath the city further. 
“Then how are you here?” Gaara asked, looking away from the fire. 
“I don’t know what you mean,” Sakura joked, her shoulders sloped down and heavy. “If you mean the girl in the City of Bronze, well, I can’t speak on that. We’ve all been enchanted not to. See, what happened was-” 
Her voice was cut off, stolen away from her as she gasped aloud and shook her head, side to side. She waved to the fire and it turned blue with magic and then a new picture arose. Gaara saw the city of bronze collapse, crumble into the desert and be no more. 
Sakura breathed heavy and turned her face away. “There are too many sad stories, and I can tell you none of them. Only know that I am here now as real as I can be because of so much blood.” 
Her voice was tired and sad, making Gaara itch to pull her close and comfort her somehow. Whenever his sister was upset he would send her a plate of her favorite candies, or her favorite coffee. She was weak to good food. When his brother was upset he would send him something fine, a new javelin, a trusty steed, a fancy saddle. Kankuro was always cheered up by gifts. 
How could he lift Sakura’s spirits? 
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he pleaded. 
“Tell me a funny story,” Sakura said, glancing towards the fire as the blue flames bled red again, her magic sapped. 
“Have you heard the story of the old woman and the devil?”
“Is this a funny story?” 
“The devil doesn’t win,” he answered.
“Then tell it to me,” Sakura laughed. 
So he did. 
The next day Gaara raced across the desert and at night he summoned Sakura again, and the dined on desert flower win and told more stories. 
The third night Gaara called for her again and Sakura was there, highlighted by the star’s light. 
“Is that the reason you can only come to me at night?” he asked. 
Sakura nodded along. “I borrow the star’s magic to leave and manifest this form. I haven’t been human since oh, since too many years ago, but even before then I knew the secret histories and their languages. I knew how to steal and to siphon and how to borrow the magic left in this world.” 
Something in her words made Gaara pause. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s so little magic left in the world. It’s getting harder and harder to appear each decade. The stars are never changing in their nature, but what of it if there are no hearts to behold their beauty and marvel at their wonder.”
“How does magic work?” 
“How does science work?” Sakura countered instead.
Gaara bristled. “Science makes sense. There is a reason for every reaction. There are formulas and reason.”
“Of course there are. Why is magic any different? I can reach out and touch the very atoms of a creature or object and direct them to the desired change with language. You may use oxygen and fuel and heat to create combustion, but I just excite the log into burning.” 
“If magic is so easy, why is not more prevalent among the people?”
“Did I say it was easy? How many centuries did I have to perfect these wretched words, tell me my friend!” Sakura laughed, clapping. Her hands rang out a sound that echoed in the sky above her, turning the clouds over into thunderheads in the desert. “Oh, but I’d trade it all to be a girl again.”       
“Why can’t you?” Gaara asked. 
“I don’t know the words for such a thing, but maybe one day I will discover them,” she said. “Breaking free from another creature’s enchantment requires knowing the nature of their spell or their true name. Once you know that, you can undo all their magic even if they’re dead or gone from this world.”   
“I’ll free you.” 
Sakura went still. Gaara moved closer and touched her arm, startling her. “No,” she breathed. “There is nothing left to free. That city is nothing but rubble. The bodies all gone. Please, don’t. Be content with this.”
“Do you know how many friends I have in this world?” Gaara argued. “I have you and I have my family. I have traveled and nearly died for my sister and brother. You think I wouldn’t do as much for you?” 
Sakura’s face fall with a soft sadness that made her look so old even if her face was as smooth and youthful as her first day at eighteen. “Sweet friend, please forget me and sleep instead.”
“Sakura I-”
But he was already falling, sliding sideways off the log. Up overhead the stars spun in circles before winking out, one by one by one…..
When he awoke in the morning Gaara roused his mare and led her the rest of the way, discovering the humble king resting under a palm tree. He was kind to the old man and listened to the story of a young boy and then his sister who came through seeking the same thing.
“You must travel there, to the base of that black mountain. There you will hear a great many voices that taunt and cajole you to turn around but you must not, for once your head is turned you will be just another black stone at the foot of the mountain.”   
“Even with inhuman willpower I still might turn around if I’m startled,” Gaara said. “I should probably just stuff my ears full of cotton or pig fat to keep from hearing anything-whoa, man!”
“What brilliance!” the old king exclaimed. “How ingenious-never have I heard such a plan in all my days. You may yet be the one who saves the talking bird for his own. A man of science for the ages, woe to the mystics.”
There was the ghost of a memory in his brain about a conversation he had with...someone about magic and science...but that memory was from so long ago, it wasn’t worth remembering.  
Gaara grimaced at the old man’s volume but didn’t say anything else. Instead he bowed in thanks and did just that. He approached the mountain and heard the first voices, though there were no bodies and, like the king said, the voices could do nothing to him. He stuffed his ears full of cotton until he could hear nothing and then began his trek. 
At the top of the mountain there was a golden cage. He grasped it firmly and pulled until it was free. The bird inside the cage roused from sleep and spoke with the voice of a human, clear and polished. 
“You have pulled me from the mountain. In thanks I will tell you where you may find the golden water and where you will find the singing tree.” 
“That’s all well and good, but I just want to find my sister and brother. Where are their bodies?”
“They have been turned to stone and one stone is as any other, I can not tell. But, I will tell you how to revive them. The water under my cage, take it and sprinkle it on the black stones before you. It was free them from their curse.”
“Like a chemical reaction,” Gaara murmured. 
He moved to do as the bird bid him and the first few stones were transformed back to their human bodies, breathing and alive. They thanked Gaara and praised him even as he ignored them in favor of finding his sister and brother.   
The sun moved across the sky and in time he came to the last two stones who were his dear sister and brother, alive and breathing! He gathered them up in his arms and cried again, too happy to have his dead siblings back from the grave to care about treasures or riches. 
That day the three of them left with the talking bird, the branch of the singing tree, golden water from the fountain, and a small army loyal to the one who freed them. 
In short time Gaara’s fame at the head of the Wind tribe grew. The conquests of his private army turned on tribe into two, and two into four, and four into fifteen, until an entire country looked to him for leadership and wisdom.  
The talking bird was a creature of legend, star crafted from the days of old and knowledgeable of a great many things. With his council Gaara guided his people and grew his tribe into a successful country that eventually swallowed even the sultan’s lands.
And yet the more of his days he spent, the lonlier he became. 
What was he missing?
What couldn’t he remember?
There was something… something he needed to remember. What was it?
“Bird, tell me the thing I seek.” 
“You seek a memory, my sultan,” the enchanted bird sang, flying about in his cage. 
“What is the memory I seek?” 
“One that is forgotten!”
The way the bird laughed provoked Gaara to anger, so he shook the cage to rattle its contents. “Speak, creature, as you are compelled to do, and release me from this pain in my chest.” 
“I am compelled to speak only truth and to answer my master, but the memory will only bring you more grief. Do you wish it, still?” 
The pain in Gaara’s heard was fierce and the only thing he could think of from one day to the next. His sister and brother ruled more than he did by this point, and the only thing his advisors needed him for was an heir. But the thought of marriage made him…
“I need this memory, speak it, bird!” he all but growled. 
“Very well then. Her name is Sakura. I shall tell you how to find her.”    
Tumblr media
110 notes · View notes
theangriestpea · 5 years ago
Text
In the Shadows : Seven
Tumblr media
Summary: Jughead Jones, resident werewolf, just wants to protect his family and his pack from the incoming doom of The Red Circle. Sweet Pea and Lily join him to help keep the Southside safe from human tyranny. Meanwhile a demon princess named Myra and succubus named Lavender had a plan to bring on the apocalypse. <ao3> <masterlist> <playlist>
Rating: Mature // Explicit
Pairings: Jughead Jones x OC, Sweet Pea x OC, Kurtz x OC
Warnings: Depictions of violence, (very) minor character death
Word Count: 5k+
A/N:  This chapter felt a bit forced on my end and I apologize for that. Some much needed plot things had to happen and they were, quite frankly, a bore to write except the last scene. That I did have fun with. This chapter has a few warnings, please be mindful of them. Check out my release schedule for upcoming works!
Part Seven: Protection 
Lavender awoke to a new series of hot pain. Her eyes snapped open abruptly and she let out a startled cry only to find Sweet Pea hanging over her. He had been putting the burn salve onto her hand print shaped wound. He said nothing as she struggled to sit up in the bed, tired of laying down. “A little warning would have been nice.” She hissed at him angrily.
Sweet Pea resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead his gaze bared down on her. “Do you want her?”
Confusion washed over the demon’s face, “what are you talking about? Do I want who?”
“Our daughter.” He said, voice devoid of any emotion. She really had no idea what brought this on because he himself showed no interest in the unborn child within her womb.
Lav’s hand went to her stomach, her palm placed flat against it. She was looking down and visualizing the aura of the spell that continued to protect her. Somehow she had forgotten all about the pain in her shoulder with this new oncoming conversation. Did she want her?
“I do.” The succubus finally said in a small and defeated voice. “You have no idea what it’s doing to me knowing that she will be ripped from my arms as soon as she is born.” A single clear tear slipped down her cheeks that were stained from the blacks ones she had produced earlier. It looked as if she had cried off an entire tube of mascara. “I’m not all demon, you know. I’ve got half of a human heart still in me.”
Sweet Pea sat down on the edge of the bed, his back to her as he ran a hand through his hair. He let out a tired sigh, having not gotten much sleep that night….or any night since his soul departed his corporal form. Being reminded that she was a hybrid was a bit sobering to him. He supposed she did have human feelings after all.
“Why does she want the child?” Sweet Pea asked, having a feeling that he wasn’t going to get a direct answer. He was right.
Lav tensed at his question. “I am not at liberty to stay.” She stammered, not wanting to anger him when she was really too weak to fend for herself. This wasn’t like back in the storeroom of the Wyrm when she had the necessary power to flip the dynamics if she needed to. She was at a clear disadvantage.
He scoffed at her reply, figuring she would say something of the sort. “Would you fight to keep her? Or do you want to be a slut slave forever?”
She frowned at the back of his head, feeling the urge to push him off the bed with her last remaining willpower. Instead she gripped the sheets tightly in her hands. “I was tricked into slavery, you asshole of a human. I didn’t choose this. Of course I would fight to keep her but Myra...Myra could bind me to hell and make me the sex slave of any demon that wanted to purchase me at the snap of her fingers. Where I’d be starved until I was driven mad. Used in whatever way they wished. Despite what you think, my consent does matter in what I let you do to me. It doesn’t to other demons. I’m strong compared to anyone on Earth but not in hell.”
Lav struggled to get out of bed, having to hold onto the wall. She was so hungry that it hurt. “You think what happened at that shitty bar between us was some kind of revenge fuck against me? It was me having a bit of fun, Sweet Pea. I can make you do all kinds of things because at the end of the day you’re still nothing but a human.”
Sweet Pea stood, an angry breath huffing out through his flared nostrils. “You’re incredibly naive if you think that other demon will take any kind of care of our child. Demons don’t raise children. Your mother didn’t raise you. She abandoned you. Myra, whoever the fuck that is, will do the same. She’ll use her and then toss her into the trash. And where will you be? Still grovelling at her feet? You’re fucking pathetic. You say you have power but you have no power at all. You’re just a puppet.”
Her knees shook under her weight as her own rage surged at his words. She was just a puppet for Myra’s bidding, but that wasn’t at all what she wanted to be. Before she had wanted her freedom more than anything in the entire world. Now...now all she wanted was to raise her baby in peace. “What do you suggest I do then?” She asked, her voice no longer harsh and rigid. It was frail under the complexity of the situation, threatening to crumble with her mind at any moment.
“After I get my soul back, we will find a way to free you from your demon.” Sweet Pea said, moving closer to her, “and we’ll co parent like Lily and I do with Daisy. I’m not going to just throw my child away, even if someone like you is the mother.”
Someone like me, Lav pondered the ache in her heart at the sentiment. Was she really that bad? She figured to someone like Sweet Pea, she was. He grabbed her by the upper arms, pulling her up straight and baring her weight within his grip so she could finally stand properly. “If you’re right, if that dumb ass wolf is her soulmate, then Lily is going to be the most powerful witch in this shitty town. No one will be able to stop her, not even a demon. She can free you from whatever contract you’re bound under. She can protect us all.”
The succubus stared at him, exhaustion evident in her hazel eyes. “Would she do that? For me?”
“No.” Sweet Pea corrected, “She’ll do it for me.”
+++
It was mere hours before the full moon would rise and Jughead was anxiously pacing outside of the small cottage in Fox Forest. His pack was already within the woods, seeking shelter as they knew the threat would come closer and closer with the falling sun.
Lily, Sweet Pea, and Lavender were inside, sitting around a sigil painted onto the floor with various crystals and herbs placed strategically inside their circle of bodies. They were holding hands, their magical energies meshing together.
“Your wolf is ruining my concentration.” Sweet Pea grumbled angrily as they could all three hear him ranting his worries to himself just outside the door. He didn’t want them to see him change. It was not a pleasant sight and it was something he wished to keep to himself. But, the boxer clad werewolf was making way too much noise.
The white witch let out a small sigh as she broke their circle to go to him. She opened the door, closing it behind her as she approached him, “Juggie. Come here.”
“Lils, you should be getting ready for the spell, what are you-” She pulled him down for a kiss before he could continue. Jughead immediately stopped and kissed her back with great care.
Lily pulled away, “Calm down. We can’t concentrate with you out here cursing at all the Archie Andrews’ in the world. It will be fine. We have enough power between the three of us to protect everyone easily.”
He sighed, “I’m sorry. I’ll just...take a seat and wait. I didn’t realize I was being that loud.”
She smiled at him softly, fingers brushing the hair from in front of his eyes. “I know. It’s okay, just relax. We’ll take care of this. Everyone will be okay come sunrise, I promise. I should warn you though, it’s going to rain. Hard.”
“That’s fine as long as you don’t mind wet dog smell.” Jughead said. Although it came off sounding like a joke he was being totally serious. Lily chuckled at him before releasing him and going back inside.
Sweet Pea had a disgusted look on his face while Lavender was smiling brightly. Lily pretended not to notice either of them as she sat back down and held out her hands for them to grab.
Once their energies were well in sync again, Lily began to chant. They would have to hold this spell for several hours for it to be strong enough to last all night. It would also take an enormous amount of energy from all of them but Lavender had brought some kind of powder with her to take once they were done. She wouldn’t say what it was, but Lily had an inkling of what it could be.
Time passed and an unseen aura filled the forest through the veins of the trees. Only those with magical abilities could see the faint green glow on the thriving plants. The dense foliage was alight with a protective magic so strong that it was unprecedented in the history of Riverdale. Light and dark create such a bond that it cannot be broken.
While they were performing the spell, Jughead and the rest of the Southside wolves had turned into their truest form and were doing their monthly run of the woods. All but one ran in large groups for added protection. All but Jughead Jones, heir to the Jones pack, and the dark to Lily’s light. She had sent him on a special quest of his own. One that was important for him to complete if it was at all possible.
The rain came down so hard that the canopy of the trees provided minimal cover. The downpour came in waves, gentle thunder rolling in the background. On the edge of the forest, in the torrential rains were a band of humans led by one with fiery red hair. The Red Circle had arrived and the group were more on edge than ever as howl after howl joined the melodious sounds of the storm.
They attempted to pour the accelerant, but the rain washed it all away. The wind put out their flames as soon as they ignited. They tried for hours, waiting for the storm to subside but alas it only grew stronger with each passing minute. It was no use. The wolves would not perish on this night and the growling amongst the brush had them afraid for their lives. Sure they had their silver bullets but were any of them that great of a shot? Silver bullets were weighted differently, they shot differently, and there wasn’t enough ammo to practice with for anyone to become accurate in firing it. And no one wanted to put themselves at point blank with a werewolf. Not even the fearless Archie Andrews himself.
When the moon reached its zenith, the two and a half witches finally broke the circle. Lily’s energy was low but she was perhaps in the best shape of the three of them. Sweet Pea nearly passed out where he sat on the floor, barely able to keep his eyes open.
“Lily, may I trouble you for some hot water?” Lav asked as she picked up the vile of white powder from the floor. “I can’t even begin to describe how fucking hungry I am after that. If I could go out there then I’d take every last soul from that idiotic Circle of humans and still need more.”
Lily smiled as she stood. “Sure. I think we could all use some tea.” She gave Sweet Pea a sideways glance that he couldn’t quite decipher other than smugness at her remaining strength.
Lavender yawned. She was finally starting to feel the telltale signs of human pregnancy. Mornings were the worst in terms of sickness. All she wanted to do was sleep but she had to eat. She had to feed or Myra would force her to feed. The concoction she had created that was currently in Lav’s hand would do in a pinch, however it was incredibly difficult to make. It required...sacrifice. One that did not sit well with the demon.
She managed to stand and make her way to the couch, sitting down with a loud plop as she waited. Lily brought her the steaming mug and Lav carefully added about half the vile of powder. Tendrils of purple steam rose up from the water, curling with the air before disappearing forever. Lav drank and she drank hungrily.
Both witches watched her, wondering what kind of potion she had just consumed. Sweet Pea was a tad more interested as he was the acclaimed potions expert of the two. He always loved to learn more about new brews, especially unearthly ones. “What is it?” He asked, his curiosity beating his general distaste for her. Well, what he thought was distaste. It was actually just resistance to the fact that they were tied by fate.
“Souls.” Lav said, decided to be honest. “Concentrated souls. Tastes terrible and is most certainly not ethically sourced. I prefer not to resort to it but when I get too hungry Myra likes to pop in and see what exactly it is I’m doing. Obviously we do not want her here, especially after she forbade me from being in the presences of either of you.”
Sweet Pea looked at Lily who was attempting to hide her frown behind her cup of tea. He saw it but the succubus did not. “What do you mean, not ethically sourced. What soul is?”
“I don’t feed on innocent souls.” Lavender said, waving her hand in the air as if she was batting away the accusation that she did. “Full blooded succubae enjoy that, sure. But they were never human. I was a human for nineteen years. That’s why I don’t feed on children, or virgins, or people who have simply lived their lives without doing anything wrong. The list is far smaller than you’d think.”
“So the souls used to make that were from innocent people?” Lily asked, her displeasure showing.
Lav sighed, “which is exactly why I don’t like taking it but it can’t be helped. Myra can’t kill Lily but she can kill every other mortal in this house. Obviously that is worse than me consuming innocence this one time….”
Sweet Pea immediately went on the defensive, “It’s fine, Lily. She’s just keeping Daisy safe.” He didn’t care about himself dying. His soul was already in hell. All he cared about now was his daughter and her safety. Even without a soul he could not forsake her. Which is why a part of him could not forsake the demon in front of him either, as much as he wanted to.
The shorter witch relaxed, if only but a fraction. “Why use an innocent soul? Why not a soul from hell already?” She asked, her voice soft now.
“Because they’re not as strong. One innocent soul is more filling than a handful of damned ones. Myra wants me to feed on the innocent but I refuse. So far she has not forced me to drop my normal feeding habits, but I fear she will the farther along I get.” Lav paused, about to continue when Sweet Pea interrupted her.
“That is why we are freeing you after I get my soul back.” He said sharply. “So you can stop being some demon’s personal incubator.”
Lily nodded her head in agreement, “I should have enough power to break whatever bond you two have. It won’t be easy but it’s not impossible.”
Lav stared at her, wondering if she was truly powerful enough. “If you fail. She will kill everyone you’ve ever loved. Including Jughead. For some reason she can’t kill you but she’ll do something much worse.”
“That is the risk I’m willing to take.” Lily replied stubbornly. She was not about to lose in a battle of wills to some demon princess.
Deep in the forest, Jughead was trying to follow a quickly fading scent trail. The rain was making it incredibly difficult as it would wash away within moments. Luckily he was close enough that time was on his side. He crept through a cluster of bushes, listening to the sounds of teeth gnawing on flesh and bone.
He broke through the thicket and saw the large white wolf with matted fur feasting on a dead deer. The buck’s black eyes seemed to be staring right at the Jones wolf, daring him to make his presence known.
The vargulf was getting sicker. He smelled much worse than he had before, like a wolf knocking on death’s door. While he wasn’t necessarily weaker, his wits wouldn’t be about him as they once had been. Fighting him could easily be a fight to the death and currently Jughead was unsure if that was one he could win.
Despite the clear disadvantage, he knew what he had to do. The vargulf had attacked Lily twice now and it was prowling the trailer park more and more, probably due to Lily spending more time at his trailer. The wolf didn’t seem to recognize her when she was in her feline form. This had been her saving grace thus far.
Jug crept further from the safety of the brush. Once he was completely in the clearing, he put his weight back on his haunches before leaping forward with his mouth open to hopefully clamp down on a vital spot.
Before he could land the blow, the white wolf turned. His muzzle and chest were dyed red from the blood of the deer. He swiftly avoided the attack, quickly turning to launch his own.
Teeth and fangs clashed, claws ripped at weak folds of skin that gave way to blood. They were both strong but in the end only one was stronger...Jughead stood, the throat of the vargulf in his jaws. His grip was vice but it was not deadly. He did not want to kill despite how this wolf’s death would solve so many of their problems. No, in the end Jughead Jones just wasn’t going to be reborn a killer on this night. Instead he chose mercy.
There was a way they could save him, and that thought alone is what kept Jughead from snapping his jowls shut and thrashing his head to tear out the innards of the white wolf’s throat. The deepest, darkest part of him wanted this creature to perish. That part of him did not win on this full moon. Despite being so incredibly far from humanity at this moment, he did something that was perhaps more human than anything. He dropped the flesh from his mouth and watched as the vargulf scrambled to his feet before running away.
Lightning crackled above and the rain washed away most of the blood. He bent down and observed a long gash on his right foreleg. The taste of blood was thick on his tongue, however none of it was his own. He needed it for Lily so she could track the vargulf with magic.
As the moon began to set, Jughead limped back to the cottage. Once he was a few paces away, Lily threw open the door and ran to him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug, uncaring if she got drenched in the process. “I was so worried,” She murmured to him as her residual magic began to heal his wounds through touch alone. “I could feel every bite, every scratch. I knew you’d win but it still hurt.”
Let’s go inside. Jughead coaxed using their touch to push his thoughts into her. It’s still not safe to be out here.
Lily smiled, unafraid of the impending dangers of inside the forest. She stood and took him inside. “Come to my room so I can collect the blood. And when you change back in a few hours, I’m going to need a recharge.”
Sweet Pea elected to drive Lavender home as he did not want to listen to Lily “recharge”. He himself could use a boost but he found that the demon that usually had no qualms in tempting him into her embrace had been giving him the iciest cold shoulder he had ever received. He knew he had done plenty wrong but he still wasn’t sure why she changed seemingly overnight. After all, she did enjoy sex with him before so why wouldn’t she now?
Lavender was clicking her stiletto nails on the armrest. She could sense his desire and while she did crave the kind of pleasure that only he could give her, she knew she had to resist. Myra would know and the punishment would be greater than just the burning of hellfire on her skin.
“When are we going to tell Lily the truth?” She asked, breaking the silence between them. “Or does she already know?”
Sweet Pea’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Later. It can wait.”
Lav turned her head to look at him, “why not just confess? Are you worried she won’t help if she knows that you knocked up another woman during a one night stand?”
He grit his teeth. In fact, that had been the exact reason why he had chosen to omit the detail that he was actually the father of the hybrid growing within the demon. He honestly was not sure how Lily would take the news. If she would finally throw him out for good or not.
“Because she doesn’t need to know right now.” He said, “She needs to concentrate on getting my soul back.”
She rolled her eyes as he stopped outside of her house. After exiting she poked her head back in, “even when you get your soul back, will you be able to handle the weight of the guilt of what you’ve done? Think about it, troll brain, you won’t be able to escape those emotions you feel when you sleep at night. She will not be able to heal the damage done to your soul.”
Lav slammed the car door before going inside, hoping she could change before a very early morning meal.
On the edge of Fox Forest, a heap of mangled fur lay only moving with the flow of labored breaths. The demon princess Myra appeared, falling to her knees and cradling the head of the white vargulf of her own creation in her arms. “My love,” She whispered sadly, “I did this to you. I am so sorry.”
The wolf whined and tried to stand, however his weakness did not allow him to. He simply laid limp in her lap, bleeding out from the wounds Jughead had given him mere hours before. She could heal his flesh wounds but that was about it. His mind and the disease that plagued him...that she could not fix. Not with all the black magic in the world. What she needed was white. Pure white magic. Her tainted love was simply not enough.
After muttering an incantation, Myra was able to reduce his size enough for her to pick him up comfortably, cradling him in her arms as she took him to the closest place she knew. Sunnyside trailer park. The sun was rising but he would not change until she allowed him to. This form she could carry much easier than his human one.
She transported the both of them to the master bathroom as it had a garden tub that would be better suited for soaking him. Lavender had been in her room, adjusting her appearance so that she was blonde. Using makeup and magic to make fake wounds on her as if she’d been attacked. She planned on going after one of those idiot men in The Red Circle. Killing them off one by one would save them a lot of trouble in the future.
She smelled them before she saw them. Kurtz had begun to smell like rotting flesh long before now, but the rain had made it much much worse. Now his scent was worse than roadkill and she had no idea how Myra was going to fix him. She could sense her master’s distress, and was unsure if it was wise for her to check in on them.
“Myra?” Lav called out, appearing in the doorway. Kurtz was in the tub, human and naked now. He was covered in deep wounds that were slowly closing thanks to Myra’s magic. His lips were moving but no sound was coming out as his head lulled to the side.
“Go eat,” Myra hissed at her, hiding her despair with anger, “I don’t have time to deal with you right now.”
The succubus held in a sigh as she put on a pair of Jimmy Choo heels and walked out to find her next victim. Whatever soul she chose, she knew it would never compare to the one she took from her warlock on that night. She was beginning to feel the startings of her morning sickness but ignored it as she set out for breakfast. She realized how much she missed Charlie’s company, but had to tell the wolf to keep her distance for the time being. She didn’t want Myra to kill the one person in all the world who might actually be her friend.
“Kurtz,” Myra whispered as she gently cleaned his face with a washcloth. “Kurtz, please wake up. I need you to wake up now. It’s over. The sun is rising.” Black tears streamed down her pale face.
The man who was once nothing more than a human, opened his light brown eyes to gaze at her. Black rings of exhaustion circled them, making him look more like a raccoon than anything. The holes around his neck caused by teeth were healing, the bruised tissues returning to a more natural color. “What is happening to me?” He said in a struggling exhale. Speaking took more energy than he had at the moment.
She tried to smile, did her damnedest to, but it faltered and fell. “You are sick, my love.” She murmured to him. He had no idea what he was. All he knew was that time would pass and he’d have no memory of it. He’d wake covered in blood, unaware of the death and destruction he had brought. As the weeks went by he lost more and more time. Soon, he feared, there would be nothing but darkness.
“I will get you help, Kurtz.” She murmured, kissing his forehead, “I promise you will be whole once again and no more harm will ever come to you.
+++
“Help!” Lav cried out as she stumbled towards the group, holding one bloodied arm in her hand. “Please, someone help me!”
A tall, buff human man ran to her first as others gasped in shock. “You’re safe now, come on, we’ll protect you.” He would have taken his letterman jacket off and given it to her but it was soaking wet. The blonde wept in his arms, large crocodile tears rolling down her face as he had to carry her to get her to keep up.
“What happened?” Archie asked as his right hand man, Reggie Mantle, came closer with the crying girl in his arms. “Miss, did a wolf attack you?”
“It was a crazy white one, I thought it was going to kill me!” She wailed dramatically as she clung to Reggie, “please, I don’t want to be alone.” With her touch she traced the base of his neck where the collar of his shirt started, forcing her will into him. He wouldn’t be able to resist taking her home.
“You want to stay with me for a bit? You look like you could use some sleep.” He said, body tensing with desire. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“Thank you, thank you so much.” Lav cried, hugging him close and hiding the wicked grin that was spreading across her pink lips.
Once at his apartment, one thing very quickly turned into another. They were kissing passionately on his couch after he made her a cup of coffee that was quickly forgotten. His moves were sloppy and she felt like he was slobbering all of her instead of making out with her. Normally she found fun in the hunt but tonight the guilt of knowing she was hiding a dark secret from Lily was plaguing her.
Clothes were ripped off one another, their naked forms bumping and grinding until he hit his release fairly quickly after entering her. Since having sex with Sweet Pea, all of her little rendezvous with others seemed to fall so very...short. She took very little pleasure in any of this.
As he came she drank in his soul and shifted into her demonic form. Before Reggie could even scream, she was digging into his chest with her claws and ripping his heart out. She remained straddling his corpse as she took a large bite from the organ, savoring the taste of all the misdeeds he had done. At least it was one less idiotic brute to have to worry about.
Lav got off of him, standing and stretching as she found her phone tucked away inside the dress that had been so carelessly taken off her form. She dialed a number, sure that he and Lily would be done for the time being.
“Lavie?” He looked at the time and she heard him groan, “what is it?”
“Do you remember our deal, Jughead?” She asked, putting on a voice full of false innocence.
“You need me to do that now?” He asked, and she could tell how tired he was. It almost made her feel bad. Almost.
Lav was smiling as she made her way into the bathroom of the apartment. “Send some dogs over, it’ll be fine. Just make sure no one sees them. This one was….how do you say it...a VIP?”
The line went silent for a moment. “Who did you kill, Lavender?” Jughead asked, his voice suddenly serious.
She cut on the water, putting it on the hottest setting. “Some meathead named Reggie Mantle. You know, The Red Circle was so willing to help a girl in need. I just simply couldn’t help myself.”
“Lavender…” Jughead said, breathing out an angry sigh, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
The demon hung up the phone, placed it on the sink basin and stepped into the shower having never been more pleased with herself in her entire life as she was in this exact moment.
Tumblr media
Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen​, @lilhemmo​, @wayward-river​, @southside-vixen​, @princesweetpea​, @redhairdontcare732​  (comment/ask/message if you want to be added or subscribe to AO3)
Enjoy my work? You can now leave a tip!
18 notes · View notes
marshmallow-phd · 6 years ago
Text
Innocent Intentions
Tumblr media
Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe
Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au
Pairing: Tao x Reader
Summary: There was one thing you couldn’t stand in all your years at college: playboys. And the campus was riddled with them. So when Tao - a player with a particularly well-known reputation - inserts himself into your life, you come up with a plan to get rid of him, whether he makes your heart race or not. But the more he’s the around, the more you just might find there’s a hidden layer underneath all the rumors, including a secret you never could have guessed….
Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final
**
The field was decorated so beautifully you could have sworn it was done by professionals rather than a rag tag team of werewolves ordered around by their very particular mates. An archway covered in wildflowers pinpointed the end of the aisle that was flanked on both sides by round tables decorated with pure white table clothes and the most beautiful yet simple centerpieces you’d ever seen. You were so busy admiring the layout that you’d completely blocked out Tao’s voice trying to get your attention.
“Hello? Anyone home?” A blurred hand waved back and forth a few centimeters from your nose, making you jump.
You frowned at Tao. “What?”
That little snap made him pout. “I’m over here trying to compliment how nice you look and you’re completely ignoring me.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile burning your cheeks. “Thank you.” Reaching out, you fixed the collar of his white button down. The suit jacket he wore was probably a little too over the top for a wedding with its embroidered sleeves and hem, but you didn’t expect anything less from your wolf. “You look very handsome, too.”
“I always look handsome,” he teased, sending you a wink before kissing your cheek.
The two of you continued to walk through the field, joining the small group that had gathered at the end of the aisle.
“-just think we should be cautious, that’s all,” Jongdae was saying in a rather serious tone that was unusual for him.
“Cautious of what?” Tao asked as you approached.
Baekhyun, who didn’t seem as worried as the others, shrugged with his hands in his pockets. “Chanyeol remembered the premonitions that witch had. You know, the ones saying something was coming for us. I say it was Luhan’s mate and that it’s over now, but they don’t agree.”
You glanced over at Luhan and his mate. They were sitting with Hae In at one of the back tables, away from everyone else. A majority of the pack was still cautious of the ex-hunter, even though it’d been a few weeks since she arrived back with Luhan. You thought she was sweet and shy, but some instincts were hard to overcome, you guessed.
“She didn’t do anything that would cause for real worry,” Kyungsoo reminded the group. “We all came out fine and she made sure that no one else in her old organization could find us again.”
“If she wasn’t the ‘big bad’, then what could it be?” Chanyeol wondered.
“I doubt there is anything coming for us,” Sehun sneered. “The witches just like getting worked up over nothing. Remember the issue with Jiyoung?” The wolves nodded in agreement, but you were confused. Even after the time you’d known about the pack, you were still learning about how the different couples came together. After hearing about some of them, you were thankful that you and Tao had a much simpler story.
“Can we stop bringing that up all the time?” Jongdae whined. Sehun simply smirked before walking away to sit at a table he could have all to himself. Jongdae sent a glare in the youngest wolf’s direction. “I can’t wait until that boy finally joins the club. Then I’m going to get revenge. And then some.”
“That’ll be an interesting day,” Kyungsoo mused.
Baekhyun shook his head. “Sehun with a mate is just a weird concept.”
“Why?” you piped up. Wasn’t that a natural occurrence for all wolves?
“He’s been resistant to the idea for so long,” Kyungsoo explained. “I’m not sure how he’d react to finding his mate. Some tend to be a little more resistant than others.” A very pointed look was sent directly at Tao. You frowned, confused, and turned to glance up at the wolf who refused to return the gesture.
“I think the ceremony is about to start,” he said nervously, pulling you away from the others. “Let’s go find a spot.”
“But-”
Tao sighed. “I’ll explain later, okay?”
Your curiosity was burning, but the desperation in his eyes made you agree.
The table Tao picked was right near the front with a perfect view of where the bride and groom would be standing to exchange their vows. No one else was seated there, but you figured it was alright given the lack of “reserved” sign. The two of you sat down and Tao went in to distracting you from your earlier inquiry. He was talking about all the fun the boys had at the bachelor party last weekend when he suddenly stopped.
Lanie had told you about the other pack that would be arriving for the wedding and about how unusual they were for having a female wolf in their midst. From what she explained to you, the female wolf was not a common occurrence. When you asked how it was possible for one to be born, she said it was something about the mother also being a descendant of a wolf and therefore the gene was passed on from both parents, giving the girl the ability to shift as well. It was all very science-y and a bit confusing since biology wasn’t your forte.
Right now, however, your confusion wasn’t coming about because of the unusual guest, but due to the melancholy expression on Tao’s face as he stared at her. The two of them made the briefest of eye contact before Tao looked away. The female wolf had tried to offer him a small smile, but then turned her eyes to you. Unsure of what else to do, you gave a small wave. The smile disappeared and she turned her face away. Tao kissed your cheek, either to distract you or reassure you in regards to the exchange. Timing was on his side as the speakers began to play a soft, warm tune. Others began to join you at the table. You’d have to save that question for later as well.
Kris began to walk down the aisle with little Mei in his arms. She looked like a small angel with her ever-growing black hair and pure white dress. You giggled as Mei hid her face in her father’s shoulder, shy from all the people staring at her. Kris met Junmyeon – who’d gotten his license online to conduct the ceremony – under the archway and they both turned to face the white curtains that cut off the view of the house. Mei was wiggling, so he put her down and she clung to his leg.
The music began to change to a love song you’d heard sung around the house before.
I remember meeting you for the first time
I remember the mottled times
You are by my side
I'm finally no longer wandering
Everyone stood as the curtains were pulled back. Evie stepped into view and took your breath away.
She was beautiful, absolutely stunning. Her short veil fell to her elbows and her dress was simple, but fit in perfectly with the outdoor setting. Tears were evident in the groom’s eyes and you nearly started to cry yourself. Kris tried to wipe them away, but it was too late. The big, scary alpha was melting at the sight of his bride.
I remember familiar streets
I remember the beauty gone adrift
There is a place only you and I know
My heart is beating
Your smile
Is quietly giving me support
Tao grasped your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. Throughout the entire ceremony, he didn’t let go. You leaned your head on his shoulder, completely content. Both Kris and Evie choked up when reading their vows allowed and the audience laughed when Mei tried to take the microphone away from Junmyeon.  
From what you’d been told during set up the night before, weddings among wolves and their mates were unheard of since the couples were already committed to each other for life. But this was what Evie wanted and Kris was willing to give her anything.
Sitting through the ceremony, you couldn’t help but imagine you and Tao in their place, declaring in front of your friends and family to be together for the rest of your lives. As out of place as it might be, you decided right there and then that maybe you’d defy that tradition, just like Evie. You didn’t know when it would be, but you wanted a small wedding of your own, to make Tao cry as you walked down the aisle and have that first dance as a married couple. The perfect happy ending to the story of you and Tao.
398 notes · View notes