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lqveharrington · 1 year ago

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Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

4: The 10th Annual Hunger Games (masterlist for series)

summary: Coriolanus comes up with a plan to secure his win as the winning mentor of the 10th Annual Hunger Games, but he makes a decision that changes everything.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: cheating (i’m so sorry), kissing, fluff, implied sex, mentions of blood and hurt, jealousy, mentions or murder and death, sejanus slander, italics are coriolanus’ inner thoughts.

word count: 4k +

a/n: this took a billion rewrites, but i wrote it sm better than i originally planned :) ty for your patience for this series

Coriolanus knew that winning the Hunger Games was impossible with Lucy Gray as his tribute. She could sing well and get any crowd to flaunt over her. She could care for those around her and get everyone and everything to fall for her charms. But, she couldn’t fight if she wanted to.

This led to Coriolanus sitting at his desk, eyes flickering between his father’s photo, a photograph of him as a baby with his mother, and a framed picture of him and you, looking at each other with pure adoration. He let a small smile slip through his messy thoughts, focusing on you. He loved everything about you.

Thus, he knew what he had to do to win for you and for his family. Even if it meant playing dirty. Even if it meant toying with another’s emotions.

“Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus whispered into the darkness, looking around the Capitol Zoo’s cage. “Lucy Gray!”

“You’re alive.” Lucy Gray whispered as she came over, gripping the iron bars.

“Hey, those bombs? They have changed everything.” He started, determined to get his plan through. “They blew the walls out, so that means you can escape up in the stands. There’s a hole down in the floor,” He flickered his eyes to her lips and back up to her eyes. “Leads down to some tunnels. I’ve tried it, you can disappear down there.”

She nodded, letting him clasp his hand over her own.

“So, the moment you hear that bell ring, you ignore the weapons in the middle and run, as fast as you can for that hole.” He spoke with urgency, squeezing her hand. “And you find a place to hide down below. Alone.”

“Alone? No, Jessup’s my friend.”

“No. The moment that bell rings, you can’t trust anyone, not even Jessup.” His eyes wander the rest of the enclosure. “Just lay low down there until it’s safe to come out.”

Lucy Gray shook her head in appreciation, looking between his eyes. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I can’t let you die. I saved you.” Coriolanus got closer to her, face merely a few centimeters away. “I saved you once, I’m not risking it again.”

A tear fell down her face, “I’m sorry. I’m more hopeful during the daytime, but when it gets dark…”

“It’s okay.” He wiped her face off with his father’s handkerchief, ensuring she was focused on him. “It’s okay. I am going to get you out here. I promise.” He smiles, “Back to the Covey.”

Lucy Gray studied his face. All she saw was true intentions. After a few beats, she leaned in for a kiss, one she somehow needed from the male presented in front of her.

And he let her.

Coriolanus Snow let Lucy Gray Baird kiss him. He let one hand reach to lightly cup her cheek, deepening the kiss ever so slightly.

He knew it was wrong. So wrong. But, he only did it for you.

I’m sorry.

“Is this real?” He asks her after separating, regret filling his mind. “Just tell me, if I’m going to risk everything… That song—“

I’m so sorry, beautiful. I promise I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’m so sorry.

“That song was payback, that’s all.” Lucy Gray cut him off, shaking her head. “My old boyfriend, Billy Taupe, he was cheating on me with the mayor’s daughter.”

I don’t love her. I love you.

“The girl from the reaping?”

“Yeah, she got crazy jealous. She had her Pa read my name up on that stage. And now everyone will know what they did to me.” She lifted her chin up.

“Yeah.” Coriolanus reached into his shirt, grabbing his mother’s compact. “Take this.”

“No. No, it’s too fine—“

“It’s not a gift. It’s a loan.” He grabbed her hands, squeezing them. “What’s in here, don’t touch it. Don’t even breathe it in because small amounts can be deadly.” He took her chin gently, forcing her to look at him. “Look, I can see what war does to people, okay? I’ve seen it. And there will come a time when you need this when you need to act. We all do things we’re not proud of to survive.” Coriolanus planted one last kiss on her lips, shutting his eyes.

This is all for you, beautiful, I promise. I’m sorry.

“Hey? We are going to win this, Lucy Gray.” He rubbed her cheek, wiping one last tear. “We are going to win this together.”

With final hugs and kisses from Grandma’am and Tigris, Coriolanus left the penthouse with an unbalanced conscience and the smallest possible amount of hope of winning the Tenth Annual Hunger Games. He was going to pick you up and then walk toward the Citadel where he was to be watching his tribute along with his peers, but the Lovett car was waiting right outside; Your tinted window rolled down with your head resting in your arm.

He did a quick jog over to you — despite the slight limp he had — and bent over to peck your lips. “Aren’t you a wonderful surprise?”

“Good morning, Coryo.” You return the gesture two more times, smiling. He stood there for a minute, admiring you before you spoke again. “Are you just going to stand there? Or do you want to get in the car?”

He shook his head at you and got inside, rolling the window up and shutting the divider between the driver and the backseats. “I was heading out to get you, my love.”

You shrug, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his arms. “Do you want me to leave? I can leave you here and let you come pick me up—”

“Don’t you dare leave me.” He locks you in his embrace. “Anywhere we go, you stay with me, remember?”

You hum and peck his jaw. “I know.”

Coriolanus smiles at your action tilting his head to meet your lips. He stared into your eyes, a smile etching its way onto his face. “What if we do something fun?”

“Hm, when?” You ask in between kisses, letting him bring you closer.

“Right now.” He brings a hand up to your cheek, pushing you slightly. “We have time.”

“Do we?” You wrap your arms behind his neck and wrap your finger around his curls, tugging softly. “I think we have twenty minutes.”

“Perfect.” He grinned, holding you close as you both fell on top of the backseat, an airy laugh coming from you. “Just enough time.”

The car ride was filled with Coriolanus’ desire to prove his worth of loving you, despite you not knowing what he had even done earlier that morning. Sadly, both of you did not take into account how short twenty minutes truly were.

“Miss Lovett? We’ve arrived at the Capitol’s Citadel.” Your driver knocked on the divider, shifting the car gear into park.

Coriolanus watched as your eyes widened, chuckling as a planted one last kiss on your lips.

“Thank you! We’ll be out soon!” You quickly reply and push your boyfriend off of you, sifting through the discarded clothes in the small space. “It would be nice if you helped and got dressed, Coryo.”

“Right.” He murmured, squeezing your hips.

Without fail, you both got dressed as swiftly as possible. You rubbed light lipstick stains of Coriolanus while he straightened out your blazer and top, adjusting it just right to cover the newly formed bruises across your collarbone.

After checking each other one last time, Coriolanus stepped out of the vehicle, waving to the cars waiting behind as a way to make peace with them. He set his hand out to guide you onto the concrete, nodding to your driver as you made it.

“Are you sure I look fine?” You ask with worry laced in your tone, looking across the area filled with Academy rouge.

“You look beautiful.” He linked your arms together and lowered his head to yours, kissing the side. “Thank god for your tinted windows, hm?”

“We’re done with this conversation now.” You reach for your necklace, face flushed. He chuckled at you before silence took over, only the shuffles from you and others emerged.

“Clemmie visited me yesterday.” You look up at him, tilting your head.

“She did?” Coriolanus questioned you, glancing over. “How is she?”

“She’s okay… She won’t be participating as a mentor anymore.” You look around before continuing, voice almost in a whisper. “She said Dr. Gaul was trying to kill her.”

“What?” He almost asked in disbelief.

“Coryo, she had scales appearing on her skin.” You shiver as you recall the memory. “It’s awful.”

“I’m sure Dr. Gaul didn’t want to kill her. I think she just wanted to frighten her.”

You look at him, confusion creeping onto your face as you enter the main viewing and seating area. “By letting her creations bite Clemmie? That’s not—“

“That friend of yours, Plinth,” Dean Highbottom interrupts your conversation, causing you both to whip your heads around to him. “You might want to find him a seat near the door.”

Coriolanus gave him a curt nod and led you down the stairs toward where the rest of the Academy mentors were stationed.

“What was that about?” You mutter, body close to his as he has his hand around your waist.

“I don’t know.”

You hum, flickering your eyes to the press and reporters stationed in every corner of the room, not forgetting the cameras that would focus in on Flickerman and the mentors’ reactions.

“Coryo. Y/N.” Sejanus calls out from Coriolanus’ right, making you both head in his direction.

Coriolanus flexes his hand on your waist, “Hey.”

“How’re you doing? You guys alright?” The young Plinth asks politely, squeezing your arm.

“We’re doing better.” You give him a small smile.

“Look over here please.” A photographer held his camera in front of the three of you, chasing your conversation to be cut off once more.

Coriolanus tightens his hold on your waist as you lean into him with one arm wrapped around his torso whilst the other includes Sejanus. The blond let a small smirk come across his face, you let a camera smile take over, and Sejanus kept a neutral face, capturing the essence of different Capitol students.

After the flashing of the camera, the photographer left, your smile fading and Coriolanus’ smirk dropping.

“Alright, later.” Sejanus nods a bye to the both of you, heading to his designated station.

“I’ll catch up with you later, okay?” Coriolanus tilted his head down to yours as the music announcing the start of the live stream began.

“M’kay.” You push on your tippy toes and peck his lips. “Love you, good luck.”

“I love you more.” He placed a chaste kiss to your lips then your temple.

Lucretius Flickerman began directing everyone on how they should behave, scolding Festus for not already being in his seat. Your leg bounced up and down as Flickerman continued his spiel, eyeing the screen with the bright letters reading THE HUNGER GAMES.

The livestream started and eyes immediately found Dill who was with Wovey and Lucy Gray, each being escorted by Peacekeepers. Your heart started to beat faster as her Peacekeeper pushed her with his rifle, shoving her over to her marker.

“Stay with Reaper.” You mumble as the camera view switches to the other tributes, clutching your silver rose in your hand.

The view then pans over to a District Three tribute, zooming in on her coughing, panicked state. She seemed to be staring at something in the arena that put her in such distress.

Finally, the camera finally shifts to what the girl is staring at making you silently gasp. The District Two tribute — Marcus — was tied up against two fallen concrete poles, the sight staying on the screen far longer than anyone would have liked.

“Oo, Marcus.” Flickerman looked back into the camera stationed inside the Citadel. “Guess we can all sleep better now knowing that he’s off the streets.”

You flinched when Sejanus stood and threw his desk across the front, screaming toward everyone watching the live and those inside the building.

“You’re monsters! All of you!” He yells as his eyes become glassy. Sejanus storms out of the room, your eyes following him in sorrow. You knew that Sejanus was friends with Marcus, so the heartache was just worse.

The host starts his countdown, his voice echoing throughout the room.

“Stay put.” You whisper as the horn blares, watching as the camera angles switch every few seconds. You blow out a breath when Reaper comes over to protect Dill, shutting your eyes knowing she is safe.

The bloodbath left 13 tributes left, Dill and Lucy Gray remaining. Truly you wanted Dill to get out alive, but how could she if Reaper was helping?

Would there always be one winner?

“Can I leave?” You ask Dean Highbottom as he walks behind you, fidgeting with the buttons on your desk. “I’ll be right back.”

“No one is stopping you, Miss Lovett.” He gestures.

You nod, standing and making your way over to Coriolanus. You run your hand from one of his shoulders to the other, bending down to his ear. “I’ll be back, Coryo. I’m starving.”

His eyes never leave the screen as he takes your hand, kissing the back of it. “Bring me something, yeah?”

“Sure.” You frown, hoping he would have gotten up to at least stretch.

You left the room and you headed to the dining area right outside, scanning the different food options for the day. Taking into account that you would most likely be staying inside the Citadel for much longer, you opted for the filling foods — also known as pasta.

“Y/N.” Sejanus finds you, a surprised look appearing on his face for a split second. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting food.” You say although it sounded more like a question. “What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to head home. I feel like it would be worse to deal with everything.” He crosses his arms, following you to a table. “Anything else happened while I left?”

You shake your head, taking a sip from your water. “Just the same things. I’m not sure anything else would surprise you too much with what happened.”

Sejanus hums, sinking down into his chair. “Are you… Are you really okay with the games happening? I mean, I know it can’t be easy watching all those deaths happen.”

Looking around the dining area before responding, you lower your voice. “I despise the games, Sej. Everything I said to Dr. Gaul was all for show, but I don’t have any power here. I’m just a woman in the Capitol. The only ones with power are those higher up.”

“I’m not asking you to stop the games right now. But would you join a rebellion against the Capitol, defending those living in the Districts?”

You search his eyes, “I don’t know. I don’t want to cause another war. You know how bad it was…”

“I know, I know. But imagine if we won? The games would be over and no child would ever have to go through this. Not a Capitol student nor a District child.” He sat up straighter and clasped his hands together, looking at you with seriousness. “Just— I can’t go through another game, flower. You know it best.”

“I know.” You look down, playing with your food. Suddenly, you had lost your appetite. “What would the plan exactly be, Sej? You can’t just go through with this with no plan.”

The smallest smile stretches across his face, “I can’t tell you. Only if you agree to help take down the games and such.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Sejanus, this is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

“It only takes one action to change something, Y/N.” He sighs.

You let silence take over, glancing around the dining area and meeting Dr. Gaul’s piercing eyes, staring dead straight at you. She gave you her signature sinister grin, nodding at you in acknowledgment. You give her a wry smile, tilting your head back down to the table.

“I have to go.” You mutter, pushing yourself out of the seat, and rush back to the viewing room — not before grabbing Coriolanus’ favorite snack.

As night fell over Panem, almost everyone left the Capitol’s Citadel. The only ones left were you and Coriolanus. You fell asleep at your station waiting for Coriolanhs while he fell asleep waiting for something to happen inside the arena. All the lights were shut down and the bright screen at the very front changed from its original design to the game footage again, Dr. Gaul took quick steps over to where Coriolanus was sleeping.

“Mr. Snow.” Dr Gaul stood before the male, Coriolanus immediately waking up from his seat.

He looked at her stone face, creasing his brows. “What happened? Is it Lucy Gray?”

“Unless you can put a leash on your deluded classmate, she might as well be dead as far as you’re concerned.” She leaned against his computer and shifted so he could see the screen encasing Sejanus inside the arena.

“Sejanus?” He whispers out.

“Bread crumbs.” She scoffed at the District-made Capitol boy. “I believe sustenance for a fallen comrade on his final journey. A District Two superstition.” She held the computer screen again and faced Coriolanus. “I’ll work on finding the Peacekeeper he bribed to get him in, and cut out their tongue. In the meantime, I need someone to get him out right now.”

Coriolanus averts his gaze to his left, “You should send Peacekeepers in.”

“Only to have him bolt and hide like a rabbit? Felix Ravinstill is fighting for his life in the hospital, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul catches his look toward your sleeping figure. “I will not have these rebels make a further mockery of my Games. Anyone sees us lose control of this arena, it might as well be sounding a horn to the districts to revolt.” She spits out. “You choose to be friends with this radical. You want him to end the Games tonight?”

“It’ll look a lot worse if the tributes kill two of us.” He spoke with confidence, not wanting to enter the area.

“Would you rather have your flower get him instead Or rather the both of you? It seems as if Sejanus cares an awful lot more about her than you. They did have a good chat in the dining room while you stayed here to watch the games.” She says as a twinge of jealousy and fury passes through Coriolanus’ features.

She hums at him, “Who knows? If you get him out unscathed, I’ll whisper your name in his father’s ear. You still want that Plinth Prize, don’t you? I’ll freeze the feed for an hour. I estimate that’s all we have until the people notice.”

Dr. Gaul gave him one last look before leaving the vicinity to freeze the video. Coriolanus waited until she left to go to you, softly shaking you awake.

“Beautiful?”

You hum, still half-asleep.

“You need to get up and go home, my love.” Coriolanus took your face in his hands and rubbed your cheek, needing you to wake up.

“Why?” You mumbled. “I’ll be fine here.”

“No, you’ll be here alone. I don’t want you to be.” He kissed your head. “Come on.”

“Why won’t you stay?”

“I have to get Sejanus out of the arena.” He muttered, making your eyes go wide.

You look over at the screen, watching Sejanus kneel by his fallen friend. “Why is he in there?”

“It doesn’t matter, but he’ll die if I don’t get him out,” Coriolanus spoke with a strict voice, sending an odd feeling to your stomach. “I need you to go home, beautiful.”

“No! I won’t let you go in there, Coryo.” You stand now, grabbing his arm like he would leave any second. “Why can’t someone else do it?”

“Dr. Gaul—“

You roll your eyes, “Are you seriously going in there just because she told you to?”

“She threatened to send you in there.” He whisper-shouted at you, almost as if there were people around to watch. “Now listen and go home, Y/N.”

You crease your brows and scoff, pushing away from him as you leave the Citadel. Coriolanus shook his head at you, but left, heading toward the arena to get Sejanus out.

But of course, you were stubborn enough to not listen and follow him closely to the arena. The Peacekeepers wouldn’t let you go inside, but they did let you wait until they came out.

“Open the gate! Open the gate!”

You heard Coriolanus’ scream from inside the arena, making you whip your head toward the Peacekeepers. He ran faster at your figure being present, quickly engulfing your body as he made it out of the arena, protecting you. Coral’s pitchfork hit the metal bars, making the both of you flinch at the noise.

“Coriolanus!” You grab his face in your hands, scanning his features. “Are you okay? I didn’t—”

“What are you doing here?” He spoke through his teeth, taking in sharp breaths. “I told you to go home.”

“I couldn’t just leave you, Coryo.” You frown, your eyes are glassy at the way he breathed heavily and his dirtied figure. “Everywhere we go, I stay with you.”

“You are horribly headstrong, my love.” He leaned his forehead on yours, shutting his eyes.

“Watch those screens, gorgeous,” Coral says as she bangs the pitchfork on the gates. “ ‘Cause I may have missed you tonight, but your songbird’s next on my list.”

She left as you stood holding your boyfriend’s face, still searching him for any injuries.

“Where did you get hurt?” You murmur as he winces at the sudden pain he received after the rush disappeared. He reached for his back, pressing on the wound he obtained from inside. You take his hand and remove it from damaging the wound any further.

“I’m… I’m sorry. Coryo, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Sejanus repeated from his knelt position. “For all of it…”

You give him a sad look, running your hand up and down Coriolanus’ arm. “It’s not your fault, Sejanus.”

“It’s all my fault.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry.” The sound of car doors opening catches your attention, Strabo Plinth and his wife stepping out. “My father… Let the buying begin.”

Sejanus’ mother rushed over to him, bringing him into an embrace as they exchanged words. Strabo Plinth nodded in your and Coriolanus’ direction before Peacekeepers grabbed the both of you.

Dr. Gaul had a car waiting for him at the front of the arena, sending him over to the laboratory. Coriolanus made sure you tagged along for two reasons.

One, he had to make sure you were safe now that it was really late. Two, he was far more distraught that he murdered a tribute, needing your around for comfort.

You held Coriolanus’ jacket as he held your free hand, rubbing circles to calm himself as you entered the Gamemaker’s building.

“Snow stormed down. Down in his head. It stormed down on his head. And now the boy is dead.” Dr. Gaul spoke from her desk, hands put together as she spotted the two of you. She chuckled, “You’ve had enough of the games tonight, I see. Come sit, I’ll stitch you up.”

“You should go home now.” Coriolanus turned to you, taking his jacket from your arm.

“No.” You insist, standing your ground. “I can’t. Not after what happened inside—“

“Beautiful, go home. Don’t worry about me.” He stroked your cheek, his eyes glassy this time. “Promise me you’ll go home?”

“You are insufferable, Coriolanus.” You wipe a tear from his face. “I promise.”

“Take the car.” He presses a quick yet tender kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

You nod, “Love you too.”

For now, you left with Coriolanus’ love and worry for him while Coriolanus stayed with a more ruined conscience and the thought of keeping you safe.

With every thought consuming both of your minds, neither of you would know how much shit was about to go down and how much it would affect your lives.

All because of a deal.

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emberdew · 7 months ago

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Trans Danny Fic Recs 🏳️‍⚧️

Hi! For Pride Month I wanted to make a list of a bunch of fics that feature trans Danny that I like! Here we go:

One-shots

What are you going to do, fight the sun? by TheBadDragon || 1k One-shot. It's one of the few stories I've read where both Danny and Vlad are trans and I love it.

For Whom the Bell Tolls by @raaorqtpbpdy || 35k One-shot. This features a really interesting AU. I love that it deals with the question "if Danny is trans and he and Dani are siblings, do people think Danny named himself after his sister?"

Original by between || 4k One-shot. This is the only story I can think of where Danny comes out as trans to Dani. It is really sweet.

Pregaming is only distasteful if the deceased is actually dead and/or a good person. by @ficauthor || 14k One-shot. This story is so funny! It has great trans jokes (written by trans author).

Wrong Feeling by @gh0stzonedarchive || 2k One-shot. A nice nonbinary Danny coming out story.

Unpacking ALL of THAT. by @kawaiijohn || 6k One-shot. A nice story about Paulina saving Danny and then having a conversation while trapped in a box. It features trans (and bi) Danny and lesbian Paulina.

making it through by @robotbeowulf || 2k One-shot. A sweet story where Mr. Lancer helps Phantom and also comes out as trans to him.

Closet Space by @ecto-american || 2k One-shot. A sweet story where Danny and Sam are both trans and swap clothes.

oh, simple thing (breathing such harsh air) by Possiblyenjoyable || 3k One-shot. A really good story where Vlad may be a villain, but at least he's not transphobic.

Multichapter and Series

A Lot To Learn by @vampyra142001 || 21k Incomplete series. A nice Vlad redemption story. I really like how Danny being trans is incorporated into the story. Plus Vlad is ace.

Friends in Strange Places by @sunnys567 || 100k Complete multi-chap. This AU is really good and I love that Danny's friends learn about their own identities during Vlad's "coming out" trip.

Lightning by @tourettesdog || 21k Incomplete multi-chap. This is one of my favorite No One Knows AU stories and one of the few fics I can think of from Sam's POV. It features the iconic line: “Phantom’s trans— what an icon.” TourettesDog has several other fics with trans Danny that I like too, including Phantom at Pride.

Cognitive Dissonance by @secretly-an-automaton || 9k Complete multi-chap. A super sweet Gray Ghost revelation story! Danny being trans is a part of the reveal, which I think is a cool concept.

the haunting murders of bristol mansion by @antelabbitsghost || 8k Complete multi-chap. A really funny Buzzfeed Unsolved inspired story. Featuring Danny calling it transphobic when furniture falls on him lol.

Casper High’s New Nurse by @thewiltingdaisy || 55k Complete multi-chap. This story features one of my favorite tropes- an OC adult who helps struggling children with their problems. Danny is trans and the OC nurse character is nonbinary, which is cool!

Food as a Love Language by GooseJacket || 13k Incomplete series. Another fic where Danny and Vlad are both trans (and pan), which I appreciate despite it not coming up in the story much. I really love Danny and Kyle’s relationship in it though; they’re really cute together.

Mundane to Monstrous Ghost by @goliath-de-senfina-sango || 75k Complete multi-chap (part of an incomplete series, but ends in a nice place). This canon rewrite is really cool! Danny uses a wish from Desiree to magically transition, which is amazing.

DPxDC

Unearthed, Reborn by @queenofthequillandink || 62k Incomplete multi-chap. An amazing story featuring soft Eternal Trio with Jason as their teen half ghost son. In addition to Danny being trans, Dick Grayson also transes their gender. Plus there are trans puns!

Rooftop Express by @cheezygoddess || 89k Incomplete multi-chap. A really good Dead on Main story featuring trans Danny and trans Jason.

Wanted: Dead and Alive by @aster-draws || 121k Complete multi-chap. A very angsty vivisection fic with a happy ending. Danny is both trans and intersex. And of course, the GIW are transphobic.

Unlimited Love by @oliveofvanders || 10k Incomplete series. Some nice one-shots featuring trans Danny and the Death Defying (Danny/Dick) ship. I especially like the second fic about the pride parade.

Of All the Things My Hands Have Held by @disillusioneddanny || 17k Complete multi-chap. A cute Dead Serious story where Danny and Damian raise a baby together. I think it's funny that Talia gives them the baby partly because she doesn't know Danny is trans. DisillusionedDanny actually has a bunch of really good fics with trans Danny, including Eat The Acid and Love Like You.

Phantom in Gotham by @artemismoorea03 || 320k Incomplete series. This series is incredible! Poor Danny has to deal with some upsetting situations, but everyone in the Batfam who learns that Danny is trans is supportive which is sweet.

Liminal Familiarity by @isitcowboytimes || 70k Incomplete multi-chap. A nice angsty AU where Danny helps Jason after he becomes half ghost. There's a scene where Danny transforms back to human after being only Phantom for a while and he gets hit with gender dysphoria and being human dysphoria at the same time, oof.

Stalking Astronauts: Gotham's Latest Social Media Craze! by @tachvintlogic || 54k Complete multi-chap. This is a really interesting twist on the usual DPxDC adoption trope where Danny is afraid of being adopted, and he doesn't need to be because he's an adult and a successful astronaut. Unfortunately because of his facial masculinization surgery, everyone thinks he looks a Wayne.

Barely Surviving in a World Antithetical to My Existence by DomesticatedOpossum and Vampirenote13 || 67k Incomplete multi-chap. Danny gets isekaied to Gotham and helped by Constantine and the bats eventually. I like that both Danny and Tim are trans in this.

Better Halves (and other such falsehoods) by @astereaes || 132k Incomplete multi-chap. An amazing fake relationship Danny/Tim story! Tim doesn't know that Danny is trans for a while but he also doesn't know a lot of things about Danny lol.

I'll be updating this list as I read/remember other cool trans Danny fics, so feel free to send recs or promote your own fics! Last updated: 9/16/24.

#danny phantom #fic recs #trans danny fenton

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mydearestbeloved · 2 months ago

Note

you know based on the latest updates so far, the system and reader, to an extent, seems to determine to keep things and comply with the canon timeline so this make me question one thing: why is reader here? is something about this timeline different than the canon that requires her to intervene and keep things running? I hope I don't come across as rude or hateful but since things haven't changed much that much compared to the main storyline, so far, reader being here feels rather... redundant? (besides making the lives of people around her easier of course) I'm not saying huge changes won't happen and i probably need to be more patient but i have my doubts when you mentioned potentially making one of the endings where jinwoo doesn't end up with reader and marry haein instead and follow up on that is the trial player au of solo leveling ragnarok, which, imo, kinda make adding reader pointless in a way if nothing major changes in the end. idk maybe i expect too much since i thought iseka'ing reader to SL means something significant and changes, epspecially the positive kind, mean she is needed but idk it's your fic so I'm sorry if i sound overbearing.

?System¿:

[ Ask reviewed as of (26/11/2024) . . .

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No, actually, you are thinking in the right direction! 💞

Since you’re onto something, I’ll give you a little bit more information without spoiling too much:

A Recurring Theme

You noticed the pattern, yes? That, for now, this AU doesn’t seem to change much from the original plot of Solo Leveling, only that it has a new major character who doesn’t even seem to change the trajectory of events, their outcomes, or the story overall. Even outside of the story, I, as the author, seem to fuss too much in my discussions about staying canon-compliant when this story is an AU, not a rewrite of the original. So let me tell you this one thing:

It’s all intentional.

The deeper plot of this AU of mine is related to why, for now, the story is staying mostly canon-compliant. This is also related to Trial Player!Reader’s actual role in this story.

Trial Player!Reader’s Role

“Why is she here?” That is one good question, my friend. Indeed, besides making small changes that don’t affect the outcome much and making the lives of people around her easier, in retrospect, her presence doesn’t change anything major.

“So far, Reader being here feels rather... redundant?” That’s exactly the first point of this story that I want to introduce to you all. Because, let me repeat, this is intentional.

“Is something about this timeline different than the canon that requires her to intervene and keep things running?” Instead of thinking like that, let’s try the opposite: In order to keep things running naturally, don’t intervene. But if that’s the case, then what’s the use of her being here? Especially with the power she has?

To that question, let me raise you another: If you have a plan, don’t you have a backup?

The point of a backup is to anticipate uncertainty, just in case something goes awry with the ongoing plan and the outcome is not as expected. But if the plan goes smoothly and the outcome is as expected, then the backup is instantly discarded, no?

Does this ring a bell, anyone? Because that’s exactly what TP!Reader is. But what uncertainty is she here for exactly? For the answer to this, we’ll have to see further in the story.

Trial Player, a Solo Leveling AU, and Its MC

“Is something about this timeline different than the canon?” No, they should not be different. Why?

This is already a recurring theme in isekai’d-to-a-story-I-know fiction, where the isekai’d MC tries not to change the story unless it’s for one reason or another (living the life they didn’t have, saving themselves from certain fate, saving others from certain fate, and so many more). I’m sure some people are bored of this, but then, why is it written again and again and again? Because it is the most logical approach.

Remember, we as readers view this story as purely fiction, a fantasy. However, we also view this story from the viewpoint of someone whose dreamy fantasy turned into cold, harsh reality. In reality, everything has consequences. We survive by learning to choose and bear the consequences of our choices. And when in the shoes of someone in a fantasy-turned-reality, isn’t it normal, wouldn’t it be safer, to anticipate what you already know will happen and its more predictable consequences instead of an uncertain future and its more uncertain consequences?

Of course, change is inevitable. Their presence where they shouldn’t have been is now part of the story, their new reality. So changes will happen. Then what can they do to salvage the security they’ve left? Minimize the changes, and improvise if the worst comes.

TP!Reader thinks this way. However, she was first and foremost human, a normal human like the rest of us. And humans seek to change and change others for one reason or another.

TP!Reader officially arrived in Solo Leveling’s Earth during the first S-Rank Gate tragedy, near the end of the catastrophe. Even if she didn’t directly participate, can you imagine how horrifying it was to witness the event, a real event, in person? Not to mention if you have this intrinsic urge to change, further pushed by being given the power to make a change, yet all of it is useless when it takes just one instance of you being reminded of something beyond your control. The helplessness—don’t we all feel that at least once in our lives?

TP!Reader chose to make life easier for Jinwoo. Note that the system didn’t force her, didn’t even give her a side quest to help Jinwoo (Why?). She did this out of her own volition, and perhaps one reason was to not feel that suffocating helplessness she felt before. So imagine, after finally feeling like you can help and make amends, you are reminded once again of how helpless you are. The first time the system erected that barrier to prevent her from changing Jinwoo’s mother’s fate, it left a permanent scar on her.

When you already think like someone who’s in fantasy-turned-reality, have invisible scars and deep trauma from just trying to survive, and then the system pulls a stunt like that—how would you react? For one, TP!Reader became even more convinced that she shouldn’t change the major events in the original plot. Which also aligns with the deeper plot of this AU of mine.

For those who already read Chapter 20, it might look like saving Min Byung-Gyu is a great deal in the road of changing the story. However, Min Byung-Gyu was already retired, so theoretically, his presence won’t change the story. But then, why did TP!Reader forbade him to join future battles if he’s already retired? The exact reason why he chose to participate in the Jeju Island Raid in the first place—his sense of duty. Min Byung-Gyu is an S-ranked healer, a capable hunter even with his distaste for violence. Even the slightest chance of him joining a future battlefield for his friends could bring about too many changes, minor or major, we don’t know.

So even when she wanted to help, to change his fate, TP!Reader, who’s already traumatized, will not take even the slightest chance of him being alive changing the story. The system also wouldn’t let her bring him back to life if his presence brought about those changes. Hence the ultimatum: If Min Byung-Gyu accepts being brought back to life, he will never step foot on the battlefield again. The moment he does, he will die, as he should have.

Let me repeat this one last time: There’s a deeper ongoing plot to why this story seems to revolve around the canon storyline so much for now. If ‘Solo’ is Jinwoo’s theme, then ‘Preparedness’ is TP!Reader’s. The Trial Player AU will have a Happy Ending. Discussions about other endings and ideas are conceptual, not canon.

_____

I think that's all I can say for now.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for sharing your thoughts!

I finally get the chance to geek out about this in another form beside the story, which still got a long way to go. 🥲

Thank you once again for giving my story a chance, for your interest and support. I really means a lot! 💞

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supercorps-imaginesetc · 2 months ago

Text

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal Playlist

Here's a bit from a playlist I made for Agatha x Rio (There's a lot of angsty songs) - Admin Cam

playlist link

master list

"Shake the Frost" by Tyler Childers

So if it'd make you stay I wouldn't act so angry all the time I wouldn't keep it all inside And I'd let you know how much I loved you every day So, darlin', will you stay right here and shake this frost off of my bones?

Post-Nicholas, Agatha is angry at Rio for taking Nicholas but also struggles with the fact that Rio is the one she loves. It's Angst City, essentially.

This could also be a pre-Nicky moment with Agatha learning how to open up and accept love after being burned so much by people before.

"The Prophecy" by Taylor Swift

Please, I've been on my knees Change the prophecy Don't want money Just someone who wants my company Let it once be me Who do I have to speak to About if they can redo the prophecy?

Ever since watching the show, when I hear this song, it just makes me think of Agatha begging Rio for more time with Nicky. But there's only so much Rio can do. Rio can't change the prophecy for even her love.

Makes me want to sob thinking about it to this song tbh

"Waiting Room" by Phoebe Bridgers

I wanna be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together Plus, I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better And when broken bodies are washed ashore Who am I to ask for more, more, more? But you're breathing in my open mouth You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

This gives me angsty Rio thinking about her and Agatha vibes. I can't explain it, but it just does.

"We're In Love" by boygenius

You could absolutely break my heart That's how I know that we're in love I don't need the symbol of a scar So, put down the knife We're not swapping blood ... If you rewrite your life, may I still play a part? In the next one, will you find me?

NO MATTER WHAT AGATHA AND RIO WILL FIND EACH OTHER.

Even after the heartbreak of losing Nicky, they will always find each other. Their lives are intertwined. Along with this, Rio and Nicky are literally the only people that could break Agatha's heart. They're the only ones that have ever and could ever have that power over her.

"In the Woods Somewhere" by Hozier

I clutched my life And wished it kept My dearest love, I'm not done yet How many years I know I'll bear I found something in the woods somewhere

Agatha finds her love, Lady Death, in the woods. This one also has the vibes of their relationship that I can't quite explain.

"The Ballad of Lucy Gray Baird" by Rachel Zegler

It's sooner than later that I'm six feet under It's sooner than later that you'll be alone So, who will you turn to tomorrow, I wonder? For when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own I am the one who you let see you weeping I know the soul that you struggled to save Too bad I'm the bet that you lost in the reaping Now, what will you do when I go to my grave?

Agatha will eventually die. There will be a time when Rio won't have Agatha, and that is heartbreaking for our star-crossed lovers.

"Where do we go now?" by Gracie Abrams

I know I changed overnight So I can't blame you for fightin' And I'd be losin' my mind If you lived in your writin' 'Cause now I'm half of myself here without you You're the best in my life and I lost you And we had no control when it fell through It was one-sided, hate how I hurt you If I could, I'd have changed every feelin'

Agatha regrets pushing Rio away after she takes Nicky away. Deep down, she knows Rio has to do it, but it kills her. In the end, Rio is the only other person who understands her pain and that she has ever loved besides their son.

"Chinese Satellite" by Phoebe Bridgers

Took a tour to see the stars But they weren't out tonight So, I wished hard on a Chinese satellite I want to believe Instead, I look at the sky, and I feel nothing You know I hate to be alone I want to be wrong

Post-Nicholas, Agatha is dealing with the loss of her two loves. She's trying to believe that Nicholas isn't disappointed in who she has become, and that's hard for her to do.

"cowboy like me" by Taylor Swift

You're a bandit like me Eyes full of stars Hustling for the good life Never thought I'd meet you here It could be love We could be the way forward And I know I'll pay for it

Imagine Agatha and Rio were both bandits and cons together. Like happy Agatha and Rio pleeeaasssee

"Like Real People Do" by Hozier

I knew that look, dear Eyes always seeking Was there in someone That dug long ago So, I will not ask you Why you were creeping In some sad way, I already know

This song gives major Agatha falling in love with The Green Witch. Especially an Agatha that is pre-finding-the-darkhold

"Please Stay" by Lucy Dacus

You tell me you love me, like it'll be the last time Like you're playing out, the end of a storyline I say I love you too, because it's true What else am I supposed to do? Maybe bar the door when you move to leave

This song is in fact, the song I cry to

Tell me this song doesn't give Agatha dealing with the loss of her and Rio's son (or dealing with the inevitability of losing them).

After she loses Nicky and Rio is gone, Agatha has to sing the song that she made with Nicky every day, and it reminds her of him and Rio. Every time she sings it and sees things that remind her of the two, it just twists the knife more in the wound of her being alone. After having everything she could have wanted, she's alone, being reminded every single day of what she lost.

#i hope this wasn't too boring #admin cam #playlist #agatha #rio #agatha all along #aaa #agatha x rio #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agatha harkness x rio vidal #marvel #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza

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goggles-mcgee · 9 months ago

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Bloom redesign!!

I said a while back that I would share them, so we will be going in season order for characters so I can explain parts of my rewrite that is being worked on. Meaning Aisha won't come for a bit but she will be present at some point!

Anyways, on to the headcanons and such.

As you can see, there are two different casual Blooms. The first is her before awakening her powers, and the second is when her powers were awakened. Her hair and pants are inspired by the 70s as I headcanon Bloom to be a thrifter and up-cycler. The bell bottoms used to be her adoptive mom, Vanessa's. She added the sunflower embroidery herself. Her shirt is a self-cropped City of Gardenia shirt, and she wears a green friendship bracelet that Selina made her. She will get rid of it at some point when she's at Alfea. Not forever, she just puts it away.

In her awakened form, she has a little flame that floats above her head. Not many know why, but it is a sign of her being the lost princess of Domino. When she realizes she is said Lost Princess, no one believes her at first because it kind of became a meme for people to claim they are the Lost Princess of Domino. Somewhat like an Anastasia situation where people did pretend to be her, but we're found to be fakes. It then turned into, "and I'm the Queen of England," type joke.

Her hair now resembles that of a flame in color, her nails are sharper, as are her canines, and she now has the elf/fairy ears. She also has new accessories. The silver bracelet she wears helps cool down her temperature since it fluctuates due to her powers being suppressed for so long. The necklace contains enchanted candy water drops that help soothe her throat as she is prone to breathing out smoke in her bouts of anger. These things happen because, as I mentioned in my original redesign post, each fairy and all magical beings have a drawback to their power. Even witches.

Small Headcanons:

• Has multiple versions of the Collections of Grimm Fairytales because the covers are different so of course she needs them.

• Loves Marissa Meyers, The Lunar Chronicles series.

• Sews pretty well and is self taught.

• Amazing artist but prefers to draw people more than anything.

• Anime lover, specifically Magical Girl Anime Lover.

• Is constantly baffled by the fact she and her new friends really do save the day with friendship and love.

• Starts a blog on the Realms Wide Web where she does a docu-diary of her time as a new fairy and such.

• Her full name is when she was born was Bloom Charlotte Feniatare, when she was found by Mike and adopted, it became Bloom Allison Gardner. Then, when she found out her origins it changed for the last time to Bloom Allison Charlotter Gardner-Feniatare. She wanted to honor all her parents by keeping the names they gave her.

• Not anything new, but she loves spicy food.

Next up will be Stella! I'll post her tomorrow.

#winx club #winx club fanart #winx club bloom #winx redesign #winx club redesign #winx club rewrite #winx club bloom fanart #my art #goggles art #character design #character redesign #digital artist #digital art

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annymation · 10 months ago

Note

What things annoyed and infuriated you the most in Wish 2023 (or Canon!Wish)?

OOOOH BOY! You just gave me permission to open a whole can of worms! Let's gooo!

Okay so here's a list:

I don't like how weak the reveal of what Magnifico actually does is. Asha finds out that he doesn't grant all the wishes, awesome, that would be a cool reveal, except, it's not a reveal, she freakin KNEW THIS! Asha herself said to a kid "It could be you someday" COULD! Asha, you said COULD, as in, there's the POSSIBILITY he'll grant that kid's wish, not a certainty! Not to mention if he only grants ONE wish per month then OF FREAKING COURSE not all wishes are granted. Okay, case in point, there's no grand reveal that the king is doing something no one knew, Asha apparently just forgot how their kingdom works.

Now hear me out, I am NOT one of those people that says Magnifico is a hero and Asha is a villain, I wanna make this clear, because although I find people who legit think like that kinda funny and I reblog their takes from time to time, I also find it frustrating that Disney managed to make a STRAIGHT, WHITE, MAN, IN A POSITION OF POWER, MORE LIKABLE THAN THEIR SECOND BLACK PROTAGONIST! ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? IT'S SO EASY TO MAKE US HATE HIM!!!-ahem- But, although Magnifico is the most likable character in the movie, I do not see him as a hero, no no no, keeping the wishes away from the people of Rosas is bad, pretending that he'd grant Sabino's wish only to say SIKE was bad, saying he'd never grant Asha family's wishes was bad. So, am I saying Magnifico is a villain?... No. That's topic number 2, Magnifico wasn't a villain, he was a jerk. A jerk does not a villain make. I didn't feel threatened by that man for not a single minute, and that's including when he was possessed by the evil book, speaking of which.

That dang book both ruined and saved the movie honestly, because yeah, although it's a stupid way to make Magnifico an actual villain, but in a way that makes us sympathize with him since he's not in his right mind, and the last thing you want is for the audience to feel bad for your villain... Well, there's exceptions of course, but that's a whole other subject. But even though the book caused all this damage, it also gave us King unhinged, campy, straight up evil, fruity, voiced by Chris Pine having the time of his life Magnifico, and I loved every second of it, I ate possessed Magnifico up, I was living for every cringe cliche evil dialogue that came out of him, like hell yeah, that's what I've been waiting for, that's what it's all about WOOOOOO!!! I loved him so much I just copy pasted his personality into the Magnifico in my rewrite, although, my version is actually willing to kill teens, while Canon Mag seemed more hesitant for some reason, my headcanon is that Magnifico was fighting the curse deep down, and that's why his magic actually didn't hurt anyone, so... That's sad, hope he breaks out of the mirror and kills them all Idk

We're on topic 4 and this is not even half of my problems oh my... Anyway, Asha is boring. And I mean like, in a way that feels intentional, how did they do it? It's fascinating how she has nothing going for her, she doesn't stand out, doesn't have any internal conflicts at the start of the movie, something ALL Disney princesses have: Belle doesn't fit in with her village, Mulan struggles to make her family proud, Mirabel struggles to make her family proud x10.000, Moana wants to explore the sea but can't, Ariel wants to explore the land but can't, Jasmine wants to get out of the castle but can't, Cinderella is a victim of domestic abuse, ya'll get the idea, all these girls get their struggles that make them compelling, what's Asha's struggle that has been with her for most of her life?... Uh... Her grandpa, this dude we just met and seems pretty happy... Doesn't have his wish granted yet... Ok, what else? Oh yeah everyone in town seems to love her and dance along with her to show tourists how cool the kingdom is... Uhum... So yeah she has no compelling struggles that hook us with her from the start, and the conflict she DOES get, as I explained before, feels underwhelming.

The setting, oh the setting. Like, don't get me wrong, the architecture is pretty, but nothing about it screams SPAIN to me, where is the cultural food? Where are the bulls? Where's the stuff we associate with the Iberian Peninsula? They did such a good job in Encanto, what the heck happened? Oh and did I mention that most of the animals that appear in the forest are not even native to the Iberian Peninsula, there would be no racoons in a medieval setting there, considering they're an invasive species that was brought there from North America, something that, I assume, wouldn't be possible back then, as I don't think the americas were even discovered yet, but anyway, there they are, racoons hanging upside down from their tails, something they can't even do. Sorry for expecting biology accuracy from my disney movie guys, but you can't just make Encanto, that was freaking amazing with it's inclusion of so many gorgeous latin American animals, and then do whatever Wish is, like bruh where were the Lynxes??? They're an endangered species there, Disney could've raised awareness!!!

The music...

Valentino was absurdly annoying, and it would be SO EASY to make a baby goat cute! Baby. Goats. Are. Cute. SO WHY DID YOU MAKE HIM UNFUNNY GOAT THAT MAKES BUTT JOKES???

Characters were unmemorable, Asha's mom didn't do anything, Sabino, whose supposed to be the backbone of the story, is barely a character, and again, it's not like Disney hasn't made likable elderly people before, Moana's grandma, Mama Coco, but my guy Sabino was just... There.

Aaaand I probably could go on and on but I can't think of anything else, feel free to share your own problems with the movie yall.

#wish star #wish disney #wish movie #wish #disney #wish 2023 #disney wish

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taevbears · 8 months ago

Text

Magic Shop - 13

Every coin has two sides

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Namjoon focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, found family, domestic/slice of life, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 10.3k ⤑ warnings: descriptive violence, body horror, near-death of a main character, prejudice and oppression of mages, heavy angst. ⤑ note: lol bc last week, i had already written out the entire chapter and just meant to edit and post it last weekend. but then another idea struck me while i was at work, and even tho i meant to just change ONE scene, it started leading to a completely different ending. so lol here i am, one week later, after rewriting half this chapter 💀 this chapter is also heavily inspired by "A Village Under Siege" and "The Attack at Nightfall" quests in Dragon Age: Origins + the world of necromancer bells from the "Old Kingdom Series" by Garth Nix

Chapters: Series Masterlist | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

From the distance, an old windmill is spotted over a hill. Its turbines spin slowly with the breeze, and the weathered bricks keep it standing tall after all these years. The distinct landmark signifies one thing.

Hawthorn Village. You’re finally here.

And it’s just as Namjoon remembers it.

Nostalgia hits him as you all cross the bridge that leads into the village. Thatched roofs and walls made of stone and wood. A large well near the center of the square where he used to make wishes upon as a kid. The elementary school he went to, the old church that his parents religiously attended, and the farmlands with livestock and crop mazes.

Much to his dismay, the aftereffects of the nightly terrors have taken its toll on his beloved hometown.

People are trying their best to get through another day, distributing produce to feed the hungry and burning the dead. A blacksmith with tired eyes insistently pounds iron with a hammer to make new weapons that will give them a better chance against the enemies. A militiaman tries to keep up morale, although most of the remaining men are just farmers and workers – none of them trained to fight. Survivors step out of the infirmary tents, wrapped in bandages but still in pain. A small child cries, looking for their parents.

Doom hangs in the air. Haunted and defeated are the faces of Hawthorn’s residents, as the looming threat of another unsettling fight is set before them.

“What’s happened here?” Seokjin asks one of the villagers.

A middle-aged man’s light up when he sees your group. “I haven’t seen you folks before. Have you come to help us? Did our notices finally reach someone?”

It isn’t long until the group is ushered to the local church. Gathered by the altar is the mayor of the village. Dark circles are under his eyes from sleepless nights, but he looks at you all with hope as the villager announces you’re all from a guild. Then, he explains to your party their dire situation.

Decomposing corpses return to life at night with the hunger for flesh, and they have been attacking this small village for the past few nights. From dusk until dawn, these attacks on Hawthorn are relentless. Each night, they come in greater numbers. Due to the necromancer and dark magic being involved, no one has been responding to their urgent calls for help. The local hunters have been summoned to the capital, and guilds often overlook their tiny settlement when they pass by.

All of Hawthorn fears that tonight will be the worst attack yet.

“You’re our only hope,” the mayor pleads. “Hawthorn won’t stand a chance otherwise.”

The Oathkeepers look at Seokjin, but his eyes are on Namjoon. He feels the rest of you looking at him too. As if it’s up to him to decide whether his hometown is worth saving, or if the quest at hand is deemed too dangerous to assist. Allowing him to back out now before they’re obligated to see things through, no matter what the risk.

“Of course we’ll help,” Namjoon decides without hesitation. “Tell us what you need.”

Tonight, things look pretty grim.

Morale within the village is at its lowest. After multiple perilous nights of terror and gruesome deaths, the ones still alive are worried they’ll be next. That nothing will remain of their beloved Hawthorn once the sun goes down.

“Someone has to know something about the necromancer. We have to find out who is terrorizing the village and what their motive is,” Namjoon concludes as you all gather outside the church to debrief. “We also need to help the residents prepare for tonight’s battle: teach them how to properly hold weapons, encourage every able-body to help with the fight, and inspire them to defend the land and their community.”

“Leave the villagers to us,” Seokjin offers, gesturing at himself and the members of his guild. “We’ll do our best to get everyone ready before sundown. You just focus on finding that necromancer.”

“Taehyung and I are going to look at their resources,” Hoseok informs, surveying the infirmary tents. “I might be able to make something for the injured.”

“We’ll check on the blacksmith,” Yoongi says, putting a hand on your shoulder. “He was in rough shape when we passed by. Half of the villagers aren’t wearing proper armor and are carrying broken weapons. Repairs need to be done if they want to stand a fighting chance.”

“Taverns are a great source of information,” Jackson mentions as he eyes the local pub. A smile touches his lips as he wonders out loud, “Maybe I can even convince the owner to give out free shots of courage to the fighters.”

“Then Jungkook and I will talk to the farmers,” Namjoon decides as he looks at his familiar, who nods his head in agreement. “The notice mentions that they’re the ones who suspect dark magic is at hand. Maybe one of them saw something that can give us a clue to where our necromancer is.”

With a solid plan set, the party breaks off to their assigned tasks.

Tonight still looks grim, but there’s hope.

With success, they might be able to turn everything around before nightfall.

“Any luck?” you ask when you see Namjoon and Jungkook circling back to the village square after a while.

“Not really,” Namjoon mulls with a sigh.

“They said the horde comes from all around the village. One night, they’re skeletons from the village’s graveyard. Another night, they’ve come from the nearby lake or from the thickets of the woods,” Jungkook explains with a frown. Whoever they talk to seems to have different descriptions of the undead creatures. “Most of the villagers are too busy trying to stay alive to keep track of what’s been causing the dead to rise.”

“They did confirm one thing, though,” Namjoon adds before he throws a glance at his familiar. “They heard the sound of bells.”

“Bells?” you echo, looking between them.

“It’s how the necromancers summon the dead,” Jungkook simply explains. “Without them, they’re just like any other mage.”

“Good to know,” you mutter, shivering at the thought of hearing strange bells in the middle of the night. At least, if nothing else, you’ll be able to take away their advantage.

Still, a mage that has the skills to control the dead must be incredibly powerful.

“How is everything here?” Namjoon asks as he looks around.

“Good. Jin is a natural at raising morale,” you reply, looking over to where a small crowd chants Seokjin’s name. The others in his guild have been teaching them how to use their weapons, and although they’re still clearly unskilled, their progress is still quite an improvement from before.

“Hoseok-hyung looks like he has things under control in the infirmary,” Jungkook points out. The nurses and patients around him are in awe at the simple potions he had given them, claiming that he must be a miracle doctor. They also look smitten over Taehyung, who’s soothing voice calms and comforts the bedridden a bit.

“Yoongi-hyung, too,” Namjoon notes when he looks at your familiar, sitting over an anvil and helping the blacksmith craft weapons of steel. With assistance, it seems like the blacksmith will be able to get repairs done in time after all.

Shouts and cheers from the tavern show that Jackson, somehow, persuaded the bartender to give out free ale to the villagers. Although tipsy, their spirits are high, and they seem eager to fight after a round of complimentary drinks.

“I’ll help Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook states, interested in what they’re doing. He approaches the blacksmith, who seems elated to have additional assistance.

“We should probably check on Jackson. Maybe he’s heard something,” you suggest, turning toward the tavern. But Namjoon grabs your hand and pulls you back.

“Actually,” he starts, suddenly a little nervous. He takes a deep breath before he tells you, “There’s something I need to do first. Before it’s too late.”

At age thirteen, Namjoon awakened the power of magic. The feeling of bestowment is like fire. The initial spark of energy courses through his veins and spreads within him. Mesmerizing, alluring, and dangerous. No matter how much he reads and tries to understand his abilities, there’s always something new to learn, to incantate, and to master through his connection to the Veil.

Magic is both a blessing and a curse. Two sides of the same coin.

At first, Namjoon hated what he was. He hated that he became a mage.

Every night, when he was locked away in Alterwood Keep or WIndshire Tower, he questioned what he had done to be damned with such misfortune.

Magic is what burned his family’s home to the ground. Magic is what got him taken away from his parents, his friends, and his village – everything he knew. Magic is what lured the hunters into killing Ignis, turned Adriel into a beast, and shunned him from his home for so long.

The same home he stands before now.

“This is it,” Namjoon tells you, looking at an ordinary-looking house.

It’s been rebuilt over the years. Shabby, but somewhat similar to what it used to be. The curtains are identical to the ones his mother had put on the windows, down to the same shade of color. The front has pots of flowers that she liked to grow, and as the weather warmed, she’d smile as they began to bloom. Inside, Namjoon is certain he’d find a small collection of books his father would’ve read, and upon his favorite chair, he used to emphasize the importance of education and the pursuit of knowledge.

Your fingers thread through his. “Are you ready?”

He looks at you and nods his head.

At age nineteen, shortly after he was transferred to Blackstone Castle, he finally started to see magic as a positive force in his life.

Magic is what brought you all together, intertwining your fates with each other like red strings of soulmates. Magic is what makes the ordinary, unassuming shop at New Haven come to life and keep you all safe and happy. Magic is what brings him back to where it all started, with you by his side.

Years have passed since that fateful day he was taken from his parents. He’s started to accept that magic is a part of him. For all its wickedness and destruction, and all its serenity and wonder. Two sides of the same coin.

He just hopes, as he raises his hand to knock on the door, his parents will accept him as well. Magic and all.

The door swings open. An older woman stands on the other side. “Yes, can I help you?”

There’s a polite but cautious smile on her face, and deep dimples on her cheeks that match Namjoon’s. The resemblance between them is unmistakable.

“Hi Mother,” Namjoon greets her with his own nervous, dimpled smile. His hand squeezes yours for assurance. “It’s me. Your son.”

Confusion turns to recognition, which turns from surprise to disbelief. You watch as the woman looks at Namjoon like he’s a ghost.

“Y-You. You shouldn’t be here,” she stutters, lip trembling as her eyes water. Her hand is pressed to her heart as she steps away from the door.

An older man notices his wife’s distress and comes to the door as well. He puts an arm around her and frowns at you two, not seeming to recognize the young man who has his height and strong build. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Father, it’s me,” Namjoon tries to say, but his voice is small. He’s starting to think that this is a bad idea. “Kim Namjoon. I’m your son.”

Like the woman, the man is initially shocked by the news. But then, his eyes narrow at Namjoon angrily. “What are the likes of you doing here, boy? Don’t we have enough to deal with?”

Namjoon visibly stiffens at the harshness in his father’s voice. “I’m here on a quest. I’ve come to learn that our village is under attack.”

“My village doesn’t need your help!” his father yells, spit flying as he holds his wife protectively. “Magic is what got us into this mess! Magic will make things worse!”

“Let’s get out of here,” you quietly urge, frowning at their hostility.

This is like his nightmares. Their looks of hatred and disdain burn under his skin, searing themselves into his memories. It’s hard for him to breathe, it’s hard for him to think. Suddenly, he feels so small. Like he’s a child again, standing before the fires that destroyed his home and took everything from him.

“Get away from him if you know what’s good for you, little girl,” the man warns, finally noticing that you’re there. “He’s something Wicked. His magic put us all in danger and ruined our lives!”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon chokes out. The words that he wanted to tell his parents after all these years. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Get out! Do not come here again!” his father interrupts as his mother bursts into tears, burying her face into her husband’s shoulder. He grabs whatever is closest to him and waves it in a threatening manner. “Get away from our house before you destroy it!”

Namjoon obliges, stepping away from the door. He looks deeply hurt as he tries again. “But Father—”

“Do not call me that!” he barks as he gives him one more hateful glare. “We don’t have a son. Not anymore.”

Then, he slams the door shut.

“That went well,” Namjoon comments, sarcasm thick in his voice. He sits on a broken crate in the alleyway the two of you end up in and sighs. “I feel like an idiot.”

Part of him had known that, maybe, his parents weren't going to give him the warmest welcome. Part of him even thought that, perhaps, his parents wouldn’t recognize him.

Still, it hurts.

It hurts that he had expected otherwise. That he had hoped his parents would listen to him and forgive him. That they’d come to accept him.

But they’ve made it more than clear that Hawthorn Village and the house he grew up in is no longer his home. And that the parents who raised him are no longer his family.

Namjoon always knew this scenario could’ve been a possibility. And yet, he foolishly wanted to be wrong.

“Joon…” Your voice calls out from behind him, but you seem at a loss of words.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes, feeling incredibly dejected as he keeps his back to you. “I shouldn’t have bothered. I should’ve known it’d be a waste of time.”

And it hurts. It hurts so badly.

Knowing that all his efforts to return home — and all the punishments he took for running away — were fruitless. That no matter how hard he tries to be good and understand his magic, nothing will change.

In the end, Ignis really died for nothing. And that’s probably what hurts the most.

Namjoon half-expects you to scold him for dragging you along. For you to comment how you knew this was a bad idea, and that you both have other important things to worry about right now.

Instead, you approach him and gently wrap your arms around his neck. Your body is pressed against his back, hugging him from behind. Neither of you speak as he stiffens under your touch. But he places his hand over your arm in a wordless request to stay.

And you do. You stay with him, kissing his tear-stained cheeks and wishing you could do more to comfort him.

But to Namjoon, this is enough. Being with you is more than enough.

When the sun goes down, the dead awakens.

Villagers of Hawthorn scramble indoors, locking themselves inside and barricading the doors and windows. The church bells are quiet, not to be rung until morning light. Everywhere is an eerie silence, and those left to fend off the inevitable enemies swallow their fears as they train their eyes on the horizon.

There, a green fog mixes with the misty air, and the putrid stench of rotting flesh slowly advances toward them. Death is coming, and with it, alarming numbers of the undead.

“All right, everyone!” the mayor begins, taking command of the last line of defense. The odds are heavily against them, but he has to keep up what little morale they still have left. “We’ve driven off this evil before. We can do it again for one more night. We fight, or we die trying!”

With that said, the villagers charge in. Battle cries ring out as they use their pitchforks, shovels, and scythes to attack the incoming herd.

But they only get so close before the fear sets in.

Death looks them in the eye. Corpses with lifeless, glowing eyes, flesh rotten and decayed, and bones visible as they unhinge their jaws and let out an unsettling groan.

Some of them flee the opposite direction, running away from their foes. Some stand frozen, panic seizing them in place. Some, unable to stand the horrid smell, drop their weapons and retch out their stomach’s contents.

The villagers don’t stand a chance.

Then, they begin to hear it.

In the dark, rural farmlands, the sonorous sound of bells toll. Yet, when their eyes gaze to the local church, the large brass on the tower is completely still. If it’s not from the church, where are the bells coming from?

A scream pierces the air. The mayor turns to see a woman swinging an axe around violently. Her eyes are wide with terror, fixed on something before her, but there isn’t anyone around her. She continues to scream at something to get away from her as she slashes the air.

Two friends suddenly turn on each other. The two men have been buddies for years, and it’s like they don’t recognize their friend. They have that same, wild look in their eyes as they grab each other and raise their weapons.

The mayor’s heart hammers in his chest as they turn against each other, mistaking alley for enemy. “Men, what are you doing? Stop it!”

But it’s too late.

Blood splatters. Followed by cries of agony.

Horrified, the mayor gets away before they try to hurt him as well. As he runs, he grabs a woman’s shoulders and tries to warn her not to listen to the bells. But when she turns to face him, her face is completely disfigured. The flesh looks like it’s melting off her skin, bone and muscle peeking as she smiles wickedly.

“What’s wrong, mayor?” the woman asks, but her voice sounds off. Another voice is layered over hers – deep and raspy, almost demonic – that clearly isn’t her own.

The mayor lets her go and shrinks back in fear. As he looks around, he sees that the undead have somehow surrounded him. They stand there and watch him with their lifeless eyes. Their rotting flesh. Pitchforks, shovels, and scythes in hand.

Mysterious bells continue to echo, drowning out his screams.

“Do you hear that?” Hoseok asks from beside you. The two of you are stationed a little away from the village, near a part of the woods that locals claim was one of the spots the dead have risen from. It’s foggy and creepy, and you’ve been eyeing the thicket and expect a horde of undead to stumble from beyond the trees.

But it’s been dead quiet.

Even as you hold your breath and stand perfectly still, you can’t hear anything.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice a whisper.

Hoseok glances over at you with a frown. “I hear the ringing of bells.”

The sound of footsteps crunching on leaves and twigs catch your attention. Seokjin calls out to you and Hoseok as he and Namjoon appear from the fog. “We need to regroup. Something is happening at the village.”

“What do you mean? Are they under attack?”

Neither of them answer you. The concern on both their faces only makes you worry more as you and Hoseok follow them toward the old windmill where the rest of your party is waiting. It’s a little closer to the heart of the village, and you can hear some commotion going on, like the villagers are in the throes of battle.

You spot Taehyung in his raven form, flying from the direction of the village and landing before you and Hoseok. When he transforms into his human form, he reports, “The recently deceased have risen, but they’re not the biggest problem.”

“Then who are they fighting?” Namjoon asks, eyebrows furrowing together.

Taehyung leans against Hoseok for support, bringing his palm against his forehead like he has a migraine. “They’re fighting each other.”

Silence follows the unsettling news.

Seokjin is the first to break it. “What the hell is going on?”

As if to answer him, you all hear it too.

The haunting, sonorous sound of bells in a nearby distance.

Hearing them sends a chill up your spine. And knowing that they’re beckoning death makes them even more terrifying.

“We need to get the bells,” Jungkook reminds you, turning away from the village to look you in the eye. “It’s the only way we can stop their madness.”

“We’ll have to be quick,” Namjoon agrees. “Or Hawthorn won’t make it to sunrise.”

There are seven necromantic bells. Each is more difficult to wield properly as their size and power increases. And, without proper care, the bells have a negative effect on the ringer that could backfire to certain death.

As you and the others approach the village, you hear the chime of the first bell.

It’s been a long day. Traveling the long roads to the village by carriage and on foot. Helping the residents prepare for the gruesome attacks tonight. Getting ready to face a powerful mage hiding somewhere nearby.

Sleep. The first bell sings. And you’re hit with a wave of drowsiness.

Yoongi catches you before you collapse on the ground. His eyes are tired, as if he hadn’t slept for days. In a slurred mumble, he commands, “Stay with me.”

The others aren’t faring any better. Long yawns and slow steps plague your group. Some of them look like they’re about to slump over and fall unconscious. You and the other mages ignore the lull of the bell and stay awake and alert. With tired eyes, you try to scan for the source of the sound and see a shadow slip into a building.

“There,” you point out, readying your wand. You follow after it with half your party close behind you. Seokjin stays behind with his guild, promising to catch up. Jungkook looks lethargic as he kicks open the entrance a few times before nearly tumbling inside.

A home abandoned is what you’re met with. The people living here seem to be gone, hurriedly leaving in the middle of making dinner. Flies swarm the rotting food, but it doesn’t look like anything else has been touched.

“Be careful,” Jackson warns, going further into the house. He uses his wand as a light, cautiously going from room to room to make sure the coast is clear.

It looks empty. But you know it isn’t.

You feel someone watching you all from the shadows.

When you turn to face the main room, your eyes widen when the figure emerges. Shrouded in tattered robes and carrying a bandolier of old bells is the necromancer. Deathly pale as a ghost, thin and bony like a skeleton, and decayed like the very creatures they summon.

The necromancer — a truly Wicked creature — isn’t human at all. It’s a phantom.

It towers over you, face covered in darkness. In its hand is the second bell, which rings and beckons the dead with every step it takes toward you.

A burst of flames comes from your wand, aiming right at the necromancer’s face. Fire catches on its robes, but the necromancer seems unphased. Even as it’s burning alive.

Behind you, wooden boards split and break, and arms of the dead reach through the window to grab you. A startled scream escapes your lips when something does.

You’re pulled tightly to Namjoon’s chest as he leads you away from the doors and windows. He keeps a wand pointed at the necromancer as he holds you protectively. From your peripheral vision, you see Jackson, Hoseok, and the familiars trying to keep the horde out.

Distracted, you don’t notice the necromancer tucking the second bell away and taking out the third one from the pouch. With two hands, it rings the bell – up, down, left right – each toll causing different sounds from one bell, but they make a dancing tune that compels your legs to move on its own.

“Namjoon!” you gasp, trying to hold onto him. Mechanically, one foot marches over the other. Against your will, you leave his side. Neither Namjoon nor the other boys could stop you as their own feet seem planted in place, unable to move.

By its command, you spin around and start to slowly head straight toward the window, into the reaching arms of the undead. The boys call out to you, and you try to resist the magic. Every fiber of your being tries to hold you back from being torn apart by their greedy hands and mouths.

But your body won’t listen. You continue to march forward.

With all his willpower, Namjoon leans as far as he can and reaches toward you. His fingers grasp the back of your clothes and he yanks you backwards. You stumble a bit, but you reach back and cling onto him, anchoring yourself as he pulls you closer.

“I got you, baby,” he assures you, wrapping both of his arms around you.

Relief washes over your face, even as your legs continue to move on its own, you and Namjoon hold onto each other. With the wand still in your hand, you manage to point it at the necromancer and cast a spell of frost, just as it takes out two more bells.

The necromancer freezes. Icicles form around it for a few seconds before it shakes it away. Namjoon’s eyes widen when he realizes something.

Magic is very effective against the necromancer.

Just as he realizes this, the phantom necromancer starts to rapidly swing the bell in its left hand.

Whispers from beyond the grave seem to float around the room with the fourth bell, disembodied and ambiguous. The voices are in every direction, layered with the quick and steady rings. And Namjoon swears one of the voices is calling out to him.

His eyes look for who is calling him, and his gaze turns toward the crowd of undead by the window. Then, his eyes widen when he hears the chime of the fifth bell.

One of the skeletal remains starts to look familiar to him. The clothes are tattered and weathered, but the scraps of what’s left are the same from that day, slightly charged from when the hunters burned him. Flesh and muscle start to form around the skeleton, bringing back the teenage boy Namjoon once left behind.

Impossible.

Ignis, alive and well, is among the horde. His first friend since he’s become a mage.

“Namjoon,” Ignis calls out to him again. His voice is echoing and weak, but it’s still very much the same as he remembers.

Hoseok, and Jackson are looking in the same direction, stunned. Namjoon would’ve thought they’re also seeing Ignis until he hears the names they call out.

“Mina?”

“Adriel!”

A sense of confusion draws Namjoon out of the spell. He doesn’t see Adriel or Mina in the crowd, but he sees Ignis. Are you two seeing someone different?

Taehyung grabs both Hoseok and Jackson before they could step closer to the window. “Don’t. You’ll get hurt.”

Yoongi and Jungkook block the window as well, trying to keep you and Namjoon safe. He doesn’t realize it, but Namjoon’s grip loosens around you from the shock. The spell from the third bell still lingers, causing you to move away from him again, but Yoongi easily catches you this time.

“Is that—?” you begin to ask, but Yoongi shakes his head.

“It’s a trick,” he says as he tightens his hold around you. “Whoever you see isn’t there.”

Namjoon’s heart drops a little when he realizes the fourth and fifth bell must’ve brought back memories of a deceased loved one. An old friend to each of you that had passed on. Their voices. Their likeness.

“Hyung, you have to get the bells, Quickly,” Jungkook reminds him as he glares at the phantom necromancer. “Before it uses the seventh one. That’ll cause death to everyone who hears it.”

That means there’s only two more bells left, and the last one is deadly. If there’s a chance to stop the necromancer, it has to be now.

The necromancer tries another combination. It exchanges the fourth and fifth bell for the second and sixth ones. With the second, it’s able to summon the dead, beckoning them to come to it from beyond the grave. And with the sixth, it has complete control over them, binding them to its will. Within its shrouded face, its eyes begin to glow an eerie yellow the moment it wields the sixth bell.

Namjoon casts a bolt of lightning from his wand, but the necromancer vanishes before it hits. The bells ring somewhere that he can’t pinpoint, and he sees you and the others regain control of your bodies and try to look for the necromancer all over again.

“It couldn’t have gone far,” Namjoon reasons, scanning around. All of you are on high alert, wands ready to strike the moment the phantom necromancer appears.

Then, he hears the sound of wood breaking. More reinforcements join the previous herd and start to come inside. Namjoon completely loses sight of you and the others, using gusts of wind to blow the undead back and knocking them against walls and furniture. He calls out to you, but the disembodied groans, the stench of rotting flesh, and the sight of disfigured creatures keeps him from looking for you.

One of the creatures he comes to face is Ignis. Or at least, what looks like him.

“Stop. I don’t want to hurt you,” Namjoon says, pointing his wand at him. It feels like his Harrowing all over again. Being forced to face his biggest regret.

Ignis has his wand pointed at him as well. It’s a broken stick. The old, dirty clothes that he wears barely covers his chest and waist, but there’s a deep wound where the hunters have stabbed him through the heart. There are burn marks from when they had set him on fire.

Namjoon feels a burst of hot air as a fireball flies past him. He counters it with a water spell, dousing the flames before it hits him. The two elements collide as steam fills the room, causing Namjoon to lose sight of his old friend.

Sparks of lightning flash to his right, and he barely dodges an electrifying bolt. The attack hits a picture frame behind him, and the glass shatters as it falls on the floor. Wind sweeps up the broken glass and hurls it toward him, and Namjoon levitates the broken boards in front of him and uses them as a shield to protect himself.

Spells after spells become a dance between offensive and defensive attacks between Namjoon and Ignis. He can feel himself getting tired. The overuse of magic is causing his hands to blacken. He’s breathing heavier, and pain shoots from his arm when it got hit with a critical ice attack.

But Ignis is slowing down too. He’s proven to be an incredibly difficult opponent. But like Namjoon, Ignis is panting for breath and from the tips of his fingers down to his wrist is inky black of magic overuse. The wound on his chest expanded, bleeding heavily, yet he still stands. Stubbornly, he continues to point his wand at Namjoon, still wanting to fight.

However, Namjoon knows he needs to end it now.

While in battle, it seems like the others have taken care of the undead herd, but the necromancer’s whereabouts are still unknown. He can hear them shouting at him, but he doesn’t know what they’re saying. All he can focus on is the opponent before him.

Needing to end the fight, Namjoon tries a new spell.

Keeping his eye on Ignis, he slowly crouches and puts his hand on the ground. The earth moves beneath his fingertips, and covering the house are thick vines. They come from one side of the house, through the window, reaching across the floor and ceiling, and finally snagging Ignis. He seems surprised when they wrap around his wrist and disarms his wand, and around his ankles to immobilize him.

The surprise turns to worry when one of the vines wraps around his neck.

Then, they begin to tighten.

Namjoon tries not to react as he watches his old friend die by his hand once again. He feels the sting of tears threaten his eyes as the wand falls on the ground and Ignis begins to choke.

As much as Namjoon wishes he could go back in time and undo his old friend’s death, as much as he’d like to think this is the real Ignis and not some undead creature wearing his skin, he knows his friend is long gone.

He points his wand at Ignis, the tip of it heating with a fire spell.

But before it’s cast, Namjoon is knocked to the ground. As he comes to his senses, he realizes three horrifying things.

First, the phantom necromancer had been there the whole time. It’s been ringing the bells, conducting them like a puppeteer. And Namjoon is its puppet with strings.

Second, it isn’t just Namjoon that was being controlled by the bells. His party has been immobilized, forced to watch as Namjoon fights Ignis. But Jackson – who was standing closest to the phantom – manages to break from the spellbound restraints, covering his ears to block the sound. Out of willpower and determination, he puts one foot over the other to sneak up on the necromancer. Until, finally, he yanks the hoister of bells before the necromancer has a chance to grab the seventh and deadliest one.

Third, the moment that the necromancer is no longer in control, Yoongi lunges at Namjoon with his hand curled into a fist. Jungkook manages to grab Yoongi’s waist, but they both topple over and knock into Namjoon. The three of them are on the ground, and Namjoon realizes that Hoseok and Taehyung are yelling at him too, but their voices are where Ignis is.

Or what he thought was Ignis.

It isn’t an undead creature caught in the vines of his spell.

It’s you. This whole time, it’s been you.

“Let her go, Namjoon!” Hoseok screams, trying to yank the vines away from you. Every time he pulls one away, another takes its place. They start to tangle around him and Taehyung as well. He can feel it grabbing his ankles and see it wrap around Taehyung’s hand as he tugs on the one around your neck.

Fuck, he doesn’t even know if you’re even breathing. Your body looks lifeless as they continue to constrict your chest and your neck.

Taehyung curses and tries to shake off the vine that’s spreading up his arm and toward his neck. Hoseok’s mind is spinning, wanting to use a fire attack to burn the vines, but afraid that it’ll hurt you and Taehyung. And Namjoon is still dazed from the effects of the bells.

Seokjin finally catches up after helping the surviving villagers. His eyes widen when he sees what’s happening and immediately rushes to you with his sword at hand.

“Hyung!” Taehyung exclaims as Seokjin carefully cuts the vines to free the three of you. Hoseok immediately catches you, and to his relief, you’re still alive. You’re still breathing, but barely.

“Is she okay?” Seokjin asks, his hand still around his sword. The Oathkeepers have jumped into battle with Jackson, trying to take the necromancer down with standard magic spells now that the bells are not with it.

“She’ll be fine,” Hoseok says as he sees Yoongi rush toward you. He hands you off to him. “Watch over her, hyung. We have to help Jackson.”

Yoongi merely nods. His hands are trembling a little as he holds you in his arms, taking you somewhere safe from the fight.

Namjoon finally snaps out of it when he sees Yoongi passing by. He catches a glimpse of you too, but Jungkook shakes his shoulder and urges, “Hyung, come on, let’s go. They need us.”

Slowly, Namjoon stands and his eyes narrow at the necromancer. The spells are aggressive as it targets Jackson, trying to get its bells back. The Oathkeepers surround him, protecting him as they use their weapons against the powerful mage.

“Push it toward the vines,” Namjoon instructs, and they do. Each swing of an attack that the Oathkeepers land, and each spell cast from Hoseok and Jackson causes the necromancer to step closer and closer to the vines where you were.

One of the vines manages to snag the necromancer’s ankle. Another starts to wrap around its arm. Everyone watches as a being associated with death struggles to free itself from the plants that are full of life. But that only tangles it up even more, constricting it until it can’t move at all.

Then, Namjoon stands before the necromancer. He still has a bit of magic in him, and with it, he unleashes a small fire. Just like he had accidentally casted all those years ago, when he first awakened his power.

This time, it’s with purpose as the flames engulf and destroy everything before him.

There’s an unnerving feeling that settles throughout the remains of Hawthorn Village.

All night, the Oathkeepers gathered everyone they could find and brought them to the church. They figured it would be easier to protect everyone if they’re all in one place.

Priestess and the faithful Devoted clasps their hands so tightly in prayer, their knuckles turn white. Mothers hold their young children close, comforting them as best as they can. Men guarding the inside of the chapel anxiously pace with their hands hovering over their weapons, anticipating that they’d be the last line of defense if your party fails to stop the necromancer.

It’s been a long night.

The fighting and shouting beyond the church door lasts for hours.

But beyond the horizon, there’s a silver lining of hope. Dawn breaks, and a new day begins. As the sun rises, so does their salvation.

Word spreads of what you and the others have done. How you all saved the village. How Namjoon defeated the awful creature that’s been terrorizing them.

“Didn’t you have a son named Namjoon?” one of the villagers asks, but Namjoon’s father shakes his head and denies it. There’s a frown on the old man’s face as others have gathered to talk about the news.

It’s finally over. Their village is saved. They’ve survived those perilous nights. And it’s all thanks to the guild that came to help them.

Stepping outside, the morning light greets them. Fighters return to embrace their loved ones after the long battle. Children cheer with joy for their heroes, and tears are shed from relief between reunited families and partners.

Among the fighters, there’s Namjoon and his group.

One of the boys – the one with a slender build and a sharp face – has you on his back. The others are worn and exhausted, but seem okay from the distance as they help support each other back to the village. And Namjoon, with two of his comrades holding him up, keeps trying to disregard his own injuries as he worries about yours.

The concern on his face, the remorse and sorrow in his expression – it’s just like when he was a kid on that fateful day.

“How do you reckon they did it?” another villager asks him, looking at the direction that Namjoon’s father is staring at. It would be easy to reveal the truth. That Wicked mages are among them, and the entire village would be full of distrust and anger toward them.

“Who knows?” the old man says instead, and turns away from the group with a frown.

Magic may have gotten them in this mess, but in an ironic twist of fate, magic is what saved them.

For the first time in days, Hawthorn Village is promised a good night.

The mayor and the surviving villagers hold a small ceremony to honor the deceased and to hail your party as heroes. It will take time for their tiny village to recover. Even with the threat of the necromancer gone, there’s still fear of the night and what it could behold. But the mayor is confident that they can rebuild.

You’re then taken to Hawthorn’s inn to recover. Luckily, no one else is severely injured, but you and Namjoon have the worst of it.

Hours pass, and you’ve yet to open your eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” Hoseok reminds him, wrapping a cloth bandage around Namjoon’s arm. “That necromancer made you guys attack each other.”

It doesn’t make Namjoon feel any better.

“I nearly killed her,” he laments. At Blackstone Castle, Hoseok once swore that if Namjoon ever hurts you, he’d kill him. Truly, this warrants his friends to turn against him like others have done before.

But somehow, they don’t.

Hoseok finishes up and examines his work. “To be fair, she did a number on you too.”

Namjoon is told to rest, but he can’t bring himself to let his guard down. He keeps thinking there must be a catch. That, perhaps, the others are still angry with him and are starting to resent him.

“Namjoon-ah, come eat,” Seokjin calls out for him, gesturing for the mage to sit at the table. He serves him a bowl of stew the innkeeper made. “Be careful. It’s still hot.”

“Hyung, are you healing okay?” Jungkook asks again – probably for the fourth time that hour alone. He frowns at the bandages Hoseok put on him, and there’s genuine concern in his big, doe-shaped eyes. “If you need anything, let me know. Got it?”

“Be careful, hyung. You don’t want to hurt yourself again,” Taehyung scolds when Namjoon nearly bumps into something. It’s the closest any of them have been stern with him all day, yet Taehyung frets over him like he does with you and the others.

Even Yoongi strikes up a casual conversation with him, flipping through a book of Devoted scriptures he’s found. “What is this garbage they’ve been teaching you?”

Namjoon frowns. “Hyung, what are you doing?”

“There’s nothing else to read,” he states with a scowl.

“I mean, why aren’t you angry at me?” Namjoon asks, his heart still full of guilt. You mean so much to all of them, and what he did is unforgivable.

“You didn’t mean to hurt her,” Yoongi simply replies.

“But I did it,” Namjoon protests, feeling a bit frustrated. He doesn’t get it. “Why are you all so nice to me after what I’ve done? Why don’t you hate me?”

Isn’t this how it always goes? Why is it so different this time?

“You’re family to us, Namjoon,” Yoongi tells him. “We could never hate you.”

Namjoon wants to believe that, but he doesn’t feel like he deserves to. Not after what he did to you.

Whenever he feels overwhelmed and stressed, Namjoon likes to run to clear his mind. Usually, it’s along the river near New Haven, where he can relax beneath the shade of a tree he liked afterwards. But as he lets his feet take him somewhere, he finds himself by the Hawthorn Lake.

Most of the villagers have gathered here as the late afternoon sun colors the skies with reds and oranges of twilight. To honor and mourn the lives that were lost the past few nights, they’ve decided to hold a small ceremony for them. And standing a short distance from them is a familiar face.

“Where’ve you been?” Namjoon asks, walking up to him.

Jackson is quiet as he watches them. The villagers pray and hug each other, and some sing hymns and play instruments by the shore. Paper lanterns are lit and sent off into the water, representing both hope and remembrance, as well as grief and loss. With the setting sun hitting the water’s surface, it matches the small flames being carried across the lake.

It’s a beautiful ceremony.

“I wish we could’ve done something like this,” Jackson quietly confides without looking at Namjoon. “For Adriel, Mina, and everyone else we lost at Blackstone.”

“We still can,” Namjoon tells him, facing the lake as well. It might be difficult now, but maybe when things settle down with the hunters, they could go back to the lake by the castle and hold a memorial for them one day.

Silence passes as the sun continues to sink. For once, it’s a peaceful evening. And the somber songs start to turn to ones of celebration as a relief washes over them. Tonight, they no longer need to fear the dark.

“You know, I wanted to take up this mission so I could bring them back,” Jackson confesses. “Adriel sacrificed himself to give us our freedom. I’ve been trying to enjoy the gift he gave us, but it isn’t fair that he’s dead while I get to live outside the prison he desperately wanted to escape from.”

Namjoon frowns. “Necromancy is dark magic, Jackson. What if it backfired?”

“I didn’t care. I would’ve used whatever they had to bring them back: bells, tomes, ritual circles,” Jackson lists as he looks at the stash of bells he’s been carrying with him. “Whatever it took. Wouldn’t you want to do the same for that old friend you told us about? The one you saw during the fight?”

Ignis.

Immediately, Namjoon thinks of how the bells convinced him that his old friend had come back. How it took his shape and form, and how it used his voice.

“If I did, he wouldn’t have been the same.” He’d probably be no different from any of the other undead they saw last night. A shell of a human with its spirit gone. A mere illusion of what he once was.

“I probably wouldn’t have been the same either. Had I tried, I would’ve lost a sense of who I am and become a monster like that necromancer phantom,” Jackson concludes with a frown. “That thing we fought… it wasn’t human. It was truly Wicked.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees. The necromancer felt like it had lost its humanity a very long time ago, and now just wanders into towns and villages to torment and cause chaos.

“Here.” Jackson holds out the bells to Namjoon. “Make sure to destroy them.”

Namjoon takes it, and he can feel the weight of its power in his hand. “What’s your plan now?”

“Don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out,” Jackson replies with a small shrug. “I might stay here for a bit and help them rebuild. The guys at the pub really liked me.”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep.

For a while, you drift in and out of consciousness. You feel the warmth of Hoseok’s healing magic before he applies an ointment to your wound. You hear the sweet tune of Jungkook’s song as he sings to you. You feel Taehyung brush the hair away from your face and press his lips against your knuckles. You hear Seokjin bargain with you – a kiss from your handsomest boyfriend if you open your eyes. When you do, you see Yoongi sleeping on a chair nearby, and you’re certain he hasn’t left your side since you were brought here.

But you don’t see or hear from Namjoon. You force yourself to sit up as the memories of last night come back to you.

In all the years you’ve known Namjoon, he’s always been a strong person. He has thick skin and a level head, and is eloquent and witty with his words. He shoulders a lot of the hard work so you and the others don’t have to. Whenever you need advice, comfort, or someone to rely on, he’s always the first person that comes to mind.

But Namjoon is also human. He can’t always be strong.

And while the details of the fight are still a bit foggy to you, there’s one thing that haunts your mind. The absolute horror on his face when Namjoon finally realizes it’s you he was attacking.

Yoongi stirs when he senses you’re awake. “Where are you going?”

Caught halfway to the door, you stop mid-step and ask, “Yoongi, have you seen—”

Just then, the door opens. Jungkook blinks in surprise when he sees you out of bed. “Oh? You’re awake?”

The others start to crowd in when they hear you’re up. You’re met with relieved sighs, lingering touches, and questions about how you’re feeling from all of them. But as you look around, you notice someone is missing.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

The boys look at each other, exchanging glances as if they don’t know what to tell you. Then, Jungkook speaks up. “He went to get some fresh air. He feels really bad about what happened.”

“I should talk to him,” you decide, determined to find him. You want to look for him anyway. “Do you know where he went?”

Soon, all of you are outside the inn. It’s incredibly empty by the square, and you learn that it’s because most of the villagers have gathered by the nearby lake. From what you’ve heard, it seems Jackson and Namjoon heeded over there as well.

“You’re the girl that was with that boy, aren’t you?”

For a second, you almost didn’t realize someone was talking to you. Then, you turn to see a familiar face. A woman that looked at you with terror and coldly slammed her door at your face yesterday. Namjoon’s mother.

“I am,” you answer, honest but a bit guarded. Now that you have a good look at her, you can see how much Namjoon takes after her appearance. He has the same high cheekbones, the same shape of her eyes, and the same deep dimples in his smile. She stares at you as well, but she doesn’t say a word. Self-conscious, you ask, “Is… Is something wrong?”

She blinks and shakes her head. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to stare.”

You don’t sense any hostility from her this time. Rather, you feel like she’s genuinely curious about you. Perhaps, after the battle and hearing people talk, she had a change of heart about her son.

“That’s all right. I must look terrible.”

You laugh awkwardly, trying to dust off any dirt from your clothes and fix your hair. Magic helps make you look presentable enough to go out, but you’re still exhausted from fighting all night. Your spells are still weak from overuse, your current clothes are battle-worn, and you’re in a dire need of a bath.

“Actually, you’re quite beautiful,” she quietly admits, and you’re taken aback by the compliment. She looks away from you. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she asks, “How do you know him?”

She doesn’t need to name him for you to know who she’s talking about.

“We’re…” Friends? Lovers? Housemates? Family? “Together. He’s my partner.”

She still doesn’t look at you, but you can see the frown form upon her lips. “And you know what he is?”

“That he’s a mage? Of course I do.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

You blink at her, confused. “Why would it bother me?”

Her gaze lifts to meet yours, and she stares at you for a long time. It begins to occur to you that, although she knows that Namjoon is a mage, she doesn’t know that you’re one as well. To her, it seems outlandish that a human would willingly love a mage.

“He’s a monster. At least, I believed so,” she finally tells you. “I blamed him for ruining our lives. Don’t you know how shameful it is to have a child cursed with magic? The whole village shunned us for years.”

“Perhaps that’s a problem with your village’s beliefs and not your son,” you retort with a scowl. “His affinity to magic isn’t the only thing that defines him. He’s a good man with a kind heart, and while he’s many things, a monster is far from it.”

Remorse flickers on her face. “Forgive me. It seems you care an awful lot about him.”

“Of course I do,” you tell her so earnestly. “Whether he’s a mage or not, he’s still Namjoon. And I love him.”

Again, his mother stares in silence. She seems baffled, and, perhaps, a bit guilty. For a moment, she hesitates, and just when you’re about to walk away, she asks, “And… is he happy?”

You glance back at his mother. “You can always ask him yourself.”

“No, no. It’s too late for that now. It’s better that he doesn’t know I talked to you,” she backtracks, but there’s a small hint of relief to know what’s become of her son after all these years. “Thank you for indulging an old, shameful woman. I’m glad that he has someone like you who loves him for all he is.”

Night has fallen over the village of Hawthorn. But for once, it’s met with laughter and festivities of celebration. Jackson spots his new friends from the pub and introduces them to him. A guy named Mark invites them both for a drink and to hang out as the lantern ceremony continues.

The moon shines brightly as its light reflects against the lake’s surface, and the glow from paper lanterns being carried across the water is a breathtaking sight.

“Namjoon.”

But despite all the people and festivities around, all you see is him.

Namjoon leaves Jackson and the others and sprints toward you, but stops himself before he gets too close. His hand reaches out to touch you out of habit, but he holds it back. He swallows the fear and hesitation building within him before he plasters a nervous smile. “Hey, baby.”

You look him over, not saying anything at first. Your eyes seem fixed on the bandages he has around his arm. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

His smile fades. A short chuckle of disbelief escapes his lips. “How is that the first thing you ask me when I’m the one that hurt you?”

“You didn’t know.”

“I could’ve killed you!” His voice raises, causing a couple passing by to look at you two. He steps a little closer and frowns. “I’m sorry, baby. I swore to myself that I’d always protect you, and I put you in danger. I don’t ever want to put you in that situation again.”

“Namjoon…”

“So, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

You seem to know where this is going. He could see the shakiness in your breath and the way your eyes water. “Namjoon, stop…”

“I think it’s better that I stay here at Hawthorn.”

This decision didn’t come easy. But after hearing that Jackson planned to stick around, he figured he’d stay with him. Help the villagers rebuild. Reconnect with old friends and maybe even his parents. Make this place feel like home again.

It seems like a reasonable idea, but the hardest part is leaving you, the family you brought together, and the shop that became your home. As Namjoon stands before you, he knows he doesn’t deserve any of them. Not you, not the others, not the shop.

“You don’t mean that.” You’re crying now, and even as you wipe your tears, you can’t bring yourself to stop.

In all the years Namjoon has known you, you’ve always been a strong person. You carry an admirable confidence when it comes to your magic. You’re as kind as you are protective of the people you care about. You’re capable of handling yourself when faced with difficult situations.

Before he realizes it, he reaches out to you again. His hand cups your face and his thumb gently strokes your cheek, wiping your tears away. “I’m so scared of hurting you again.”

“And I’m scared to lose you.”

But you’re also human. There are times when you’re not always strong.

It dawns on him that you, like him, are terrified that your magic has hurt him. That you think the reason he wants to stay at Hawthorn is because you attacked him.

“You’ll never lose me,” Namjoon promises. Because he knows, even if you’re far apart, he’ll always think about you. In his dreams, in his thoughts. You’ve already claimed every part of him like a fire. “I love you.”

“Then don’t stay here,” you tell him. “Come home. With me.”

And it strikes Namjoon that this is what he’s been searching for his whole life. All the times he’s tried to return to his family, and all his efforts to understand his magic were to get what you’ve given him all along. Acceptance, trust, love.

Namjoon nods his head, swallowing back his own tears. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat, smiling with relief. And on that beautiful night, with the moon shining brightly and the paper lanterns glowing in the water, he kisses you.

Hawthorn is just as Namjoon remembers it.

The small, farming village with a tight-knit community. Every morning, the villagers rise at the crack of dawn, tending to their animals and crops, fishing by the nearby lake, and selling their produce at the marketplace. His parents still live here, and so do many of his childhood friends and their families. And when he looks around, he sees the familiar buildings of the old windmill, the local church, and homes made of thatch roofs and mud and stone walls.

Even when he was forced away, he couldn’t imagine anywhere else could be his home.

Years later, after finally returning to the village, Namjoon realizes he couldn’t be any more wrong. He had once thought – while trapped in a tiny room in Alterwood Keep – if he ever made it back here, he’d never want to leave. That this place was his village. This place was and will always be his home.

“Ready?” Hoseok asks, looking at you, Namjoon, and Jackson. The three of you nod as all wands are drawn over the necromancer bells.

With the power of four mages, the powers are sealed away and their tempting call to beckon the dead is nearly silenced. They look like ordinary bells, but should anyone try to ring them now, it’d be muffled and mute. Its effect is significantly weak with the magical seal intact, and the bandolier of bells tucked away in Jungkook’s pack.

“Let’s get out of here,” Seokjin decides once the spell is done. His hand slips around your waist protectively, weary eyes double-checking that none of the villagers have seen you guys use magic.

“It was nice seeing you guys again, man,” Jackson says, hand clasping Hoseok before he pulls him into a quick hug. He does the same to Namjoon and adds, “I’m glad you changed your mind. It doesn’t feel right to separate you all for some reason.”

Namjoon smiles a little at that. “Feel free to stop by at the shop anytime, Jackson.”

“I’ll know where to find you.” There’s promise in his voice that he’ll keep in touch.

Your party heads out of the village, receiving final thanks from the mayor and some of the other villagers for your help. Namjoon pauses when he sees his parents among them. His father merely nods at him and says, “Take care of yourself, Namjoon.”

“Thanks. You too,” he replies, a bit stunned. His parents leave it at that, shuffling away as Hoseok calls for him not to fall behind, but for Namjoon, that is more than enough.

When he catches up to you, you’re at the bridge that enters the village. He pauses and takes one more look around at the old windmill, village, and the farmlands. It really hasn’t changed that much since he was a child.

But Hawthorn no longer feels like home to him.

“Ready?” you ask, offering your hand to hold.

Around you, the others state how they’re looking forward to going back to New Haven. Yoongi complains that he needs a bath and a long nap. Jungkook wrinkles his nose at his muddy pants and mutters how he’s eager to start his meticulous laundry routine. Hoseok and Taehyung invite the Oathkeepers for food and drinks at the shop once you’re all back, and Seokjin complains how he’ll end up doing the majority of cooking.

Namjoon smiles fondly as he watches you all. Then, he nods and takes your hand.

These days, home to him is a small, ordinary, and unassuming shop in a bustling trading town. It’s a building that’s much bigger and more extraordinary on the inside than it is on the outside, with a tavern, a parlor, a mysterious door by the entrance that fulfills a person’s greatest desires, and bedrooms on the upper-floor curated to their residents’ tastes and styles.

Lately, home is waking up to bread baking and coffee brewing when Seokjin and Hoseok wake up early to start the day. It’s afternoons when he’s reading a book and listening to Yoongi playing the piano in the parlor, or Taehyung and Jungkook giggling as they play games with each other. Home is evenings when Jimin stops by with a bouquet of flowers for you, and all eight of you are gathered together for dinner as the weariness of the day melts away in each other’s presence.

To him, home is picnics by the river with you, basking beneath the sunlight of a gorgeous day. Home is debating what fruit is the best at the marketplace, and ending up taking home both of your favorites anyway. It’s childishly teasing each other with pranks and mischievous spells, and then finding ways to be in each other’s arms by the end of the day.

Home is with you.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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#magic shop series #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #bts namjoon x you #bts namjoon x reader #rm x you #rm x reader #bts rm x reader #namjoon fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts magic au #bts fantasy au #bts witch au

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stargazing-imagines · 7 months ago

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Accident -- SAVED BY THE BELL REWRITE *Prolouge*

Description: You find out the worse news which prompts you to move in with the Kapowski family in the palisades area.

Warnings: Mentions of Car accidents, Mention of being alone, mention of death, let me know if there is anything missing! This one is sad, so buckle up.

A/N: If there are some editorial errors, I apologize. I cut my index finger and that Is the finger that I type with so I apologize. This is also not tied with the series what so ever, I'm just writing this to kick it off, so enjoy!

It was a rainy day in Dallas texas, and Y/N was sitting at home doing her homework. Her parents have decided to go out that night for a little date night, but what she wasn't expecting was to hear the worse news of her life...

Two police officers were standing at the doorstep, with grim expressions on their faces. The female spoke up.

"Are you Y/N L/N?" asked the female officer as she was trying to hide her emotions for the young teenager.

"That would be me... What's going on?" The male police officer sighed before whispering to his partner.

"We can't tell her... not like this."

"we have to George!" said the female police officer who muttered under her breath

The male police officer looked at you again before speaking, this time her took a deep frustrating breath.

"Both of your parents died in a car accident tonight..."

"And they were pronounced dead at the scene..."

At that moment, you felt your heart stop. With a hand clamped over your mouth, words tangling up in your mouth.

"Wait... That can't be true..." you said as you were straining to say something "They promised they would be back..."

"I'm so sorry, but we are here to take you to the hospital." said the male police officer, who was trying to hold it together "You can say your goodbyes when we get there..."

You were standing in a hospital room, adorned in white; not beliveing that this was happening. At this rate, your eyes were puffy red and swollen, yes you cried in the police car on the way to the hospital.

"We informed a family member to come get you... They will be here in the morning."

You nodded your head before looking back down at your parents.

You stayed in the hospital lobby, waiting. Knees clutched to your chest, your tear stained cheek aganist your cold knees, you were in thought until a voice spoken up

"Y/N!" said your cousin Kelly as she rushed over to you, sitting in the chair next to you. "I heard what happened... I'm so sorry."

at that, you didn;t say a word. Not even a peep, you just looked over at your cousin before giving her a big hug.

"Their gone Kel... There's nothing I can do to get them back." you said in between sobs "I'm... Alone."

"You are not alone... You have us now." said Kelly as she wiped a tear "You're going to live with me and my family in California, and we are going to have a blast." said Kelly "So don't think of that, you are not alone."

You smiled before wiping your tears. Maybe this won't be too bad.

It has been a couple of days, and it was the funeral. You were seated next to the Kapowski family as they all came down to give you moral support.

"They always tried to make my life great, as their only daughter, that was all they cared about." you said "Even though they aren't always here with me... they will always be in my heart."

you looked down at the double caskets, breathing deep before lookinh back at the crowd of people. Some were neighbors, co-workers, friends, and family.

"I love you Mom, and Dad..."

---

Saved by the Bell Rewrite Masterlist

#saved by the bell #saved by the bell rewrite #sbtb rewrite #sbtb

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robo-milky · 6 months ago

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It’s Not Vanity

[Feat. Cloche & Rollo NOT SHIP | 516 Words | Spoilers ]

A ficlet of how I imagine Cloche acquired Rollo’s picture, now published in celebration that he’s here in EN.

Cloche was unarmed, only holding the ghost camera strung around her neck. She watched as Rollo stood at the edge of the belltower, bathing in the amber glow of firelotuses. The scene would have reminded Cloche of a camper by a cozy campfire, if it weren’t for the barrage of screams drilling into her ears. She wasn’t sure who to feel more disgusted by, the boy who started the fire, or the girl who drowned out the noise as a nuisance.

“Master… Rollo,” Cloche voice dipped, trying to correct her indifferent tone, now that they were allies. Rollo’s head turned towards her, giving an expectant stare for her to speak. “Would you like a picture to commemorate this achievement?” raising the camera with an almost childish glee, she looked at him longingly.

“We can save the celebrations for later—actually, they won’t be necessary at all.”

“Why not?” Cloche stepped closer. “If it’s the other students you’re worried about, the flowers are well on their way picking them off.”

“You can’t get comfortable yet,” Rollo said. “Like cockroaches, they may even crawl up here headless.”

“They might as well…” Cloche hummed. “But it’s just a picture, nothing fancy. It’ll only take a second.”

“Cloche, I’m doing this to carve out a path of salvation for the people, not thanks or recognition. My aspirations are greater than any pursuits of vanity.” said Rollo. “To save Twisted Wonderland, Pyroxene, Fleur City, to save you.” His eyes scrolled over to the bells embedded in Cloche’ ears.

“I’m sure the Righteous Judge didn’t save Fleur City from its calamities for recognition either,” Cloche replied. “Yet his exact image is captured on statues. It was to document a time in history.” The corner of Rollo’s lip rose in a snicker, “I’m not sure if this is a deed I’d like to attach my face to—”

“Only if you fail.” Cloche insisted. “You’re standing here with pride, right? No regrets? We all know it is winners who rewrite history.” His eyes hardened, ”With absolute certainty.” He walked past Cloche, his cape fluttering behind him. He stopped at a point of the belltower where his figure bled into the fiery cityscape. It was a contrast of where he stood, darkness signalling absence of the danger. His sceptre stomped with a commanding thud as he tilted his head accordingly. “Well? You’re the one who suggested it. Make it quick,” Rollo said.

Cloche was quick to follow when she realized Rollo had not only considered but agreed to her idea. She scoped out the tallest platform on the belltower she could find to match his height and the scenery below. She raised the camera over her eye and clicked the shutter button when a breeze brushed past them. The anima card shot out from the camera. It was captured, Rollo posed in front of the mayhem with a menacing grin, his hand comfortably extended to brandish the parasitic flowers behind him. Cloche’ ears twitched, brushing her thumb over the print as it developed, “It’s perfect.”

#I don’t post writing for TWST but to think that my first one will be of r*llo 💀💀#this is integral to cloche lore so I guess this has a pass #wondering if I’m posting this too early for it to make sense #um…. it exists.#I’ve had this saved on word for a while and debated on posting it here #oc: cloche🎊#cat scratches 🌸#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twst writing #rollo flamme #twst Rollo #twst glomas #glorious masquerade #twst yuusona

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rom-e-o · 5 months ago

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I've always wondered how Connie and Scrooge (modern or otherwise) would react to my Percival and Thorne, considering how different they are as characters and the whole 'Marley is NOT dead to begin with and is also Scrooge's husband' thing.

Here's Percival's notes from my Google docs:

Born to Zachariah Winthrop Scrooge and Kathleen Quill Scrooge, conceived in a drunken tryst gone wrong, Ebenezer is the co-CEO of his and Jacob’s multinational, multi-billion pound tech conglomerate, Asplex Industries. Known as the Shark of London in the world of business, Ebenezer is renowned for his cunning and ruthlessness, tied only with his terrifyingly true ability in the art of inventing high-quality technological innovations, closer to the realm of madness.

And here's Thorne's:

Born to Gene Thorne and Lilith Knight under the name Alexander Thorne, and adopted by Abel and Lenore Marley at ten-years-old, Jacob is the co-CEO of his and Ebenezer’s multinational, multi-billion pound tech conglomerate, Asplex Industries. Known as the Snake of London, Jacob is known for his charismatic nature and silver tongue, able to predict market trends with incredible ease and convincing subsidiaries to sign with them by speaking only the truth.

I don't really touch upon it too much on the fic, though I will get back to rewriting it I SWEAR, but Percival ends up getting back on good terms with Belle and her husband Richard (Dick Wilkins) who were childhood friends of both him and Thorne.

And we also know how Percival ALMOST fucked up his relationship with Thorne (*cough* Percival didn't think they were married because it wasn't legal in England before 2015 but Thorne did and Thorne thought Percival didn't love him and that this was all transactional *cough)

They get therapy don't worry

Honestly I feel like Connie and Scrooge would see Percival and Thorne very differently, and Connie herself would feel some level of kinship with Thorne thanks to her experiences with Orin.

But honestly those are just some of my thoughts ngl- ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ooooh, this is such a fun question! There would be some interest, for certain.

My Scrooge and Connie’s personalities from their modern to classic renditions don’t vary too much in disposition (aside from their speech patterns, the presence of different amenities, etc.) so I feel both sets would react similarly in both timelines, but differently from each other, haha.

My version of Scrooge tends to lean a bit introverted, is a slight (intense) perfectionist, and can be a little shy and skittish. Some might even call him nervous, but only in his personal life, because romance is so new to him again, and it’s been a long time since he’s wanted anyone in his life. He doesn’t want to mess anything up. Professionally, he’s always charming, well-spoken, and a true gentleman. Handsome, too. An Adonis, which is his nickname, haha.

I think he’d see Percival and Thorne, firstly, with intrigue. His business partner is still alive, and they’re … together? When I started “Begin Again” I decided to make it vague if Scrooge and Marley were business partners or more, and to what degree. Their relationship is left extremely vague. After Isabel, he really had ONLY Marley as companionship. So, a version of him and Marley being a couple is not a concept that completely blindsides him. I hc him and Connie as both bi/pan (especially because Scroogey has so many lovers and OCs that love him across universes - it just feels right.)

I think he’d ask how he was still alive, and if there really was something he could have done to save his partner (in the classic verse or modern verse.)

Finding out about the car accident and aftermath would remind him of his own redemption, and I think he’d find comfort in knowing that he was given a second chance across many timelines. And seeing him reconnect with Belle and Dick, something he has yet to do in the modern verse but has in the classical one (I am in the same boat of needing to get back to writing fics, including this one, so I feel you lmao) would give him reassure.

“I must say, our backgrounds of ruthlessness are…similar. Your resilience is inspiring."

As for Thorne, I think he'd want to learn more about him and kind of compare him to the Marley he knows. How similar are they? He's got the same charisma, that's for certain.

The funny thing? My Scrooge LOVES sparkling water, and Thorne finds it refreshing, as we’ve learned from their dinner date. For some reason, I see him feeling victorious.

A: Haha, finally, someone else who understands that is a perfectly lovely beverage. Please continue to give your husband grief.

C: Darling! You shouldn’t inspire a married couple to fight. Especially you and Marley.

A: Normally, I wouldn’t, but like you said, it’s a version of me from another universe. Fair game, my dear. Trust me, we’ve all earned our fair share of teasing. 😌

Speaking of Connie, she’s never met Marley, but she’s heard stories upon stories. To meet him from another would would be like meeting a celebrity!

I think she would find kinship with Thorne, exactly like you said, because of what she faced with Orin. Also, he provides Percival with love and companionship, and they become a couple and family.

She adores Ebenezer, so to know that he found love in that universe with another, let along one he has such a storied past with, brings her happiness.

"I'm glad he's loved in your universe too." <3

Also, Connie finds out about the boxing, and begs to be taught, haha. She only know pilates, and promises to be a good student. "I have an ex-husband I may need to punch one day. Can you give me some pointers?"

I feel like I just barely scratched the surface, but I think there is a lot of fun stuff these four could get up to, haha.

I totally feel you about fic writing, haha. It's always worth the wait when you publish (the characterization, the banter, the imagery ... top-tier across the board), so please don't worry about taking those beats to make sure you love it! I will be SO READY to keep reading those updates!

#ask #thedivinelights #scrooge 2022 #scrooge x oc #oc constance dogoode

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emytellsrandomstories · 9 months ago

Text

Okayy hmmmm if I took this storytelling style:

youtube

And I was inspired by Lydia The Bard's proposal: A universe in which children were captured and taken to Neverland so that they would never stop believing in fairies...

(Check out the proposal in the video below)

youtube

...And so rewrite the Peter Pan play, transforming it into an alternative universe where, after Wendy's death, Peter fled to the mainland with a dead Wendy in his arms and, in revenge, "Tinker Belle" dominates Neverland using a dark magic powder, thus trapping the lost boys and then setting off in pursuit of Peter Pan on the mainland.But Peter would no longer be alone, as on his escape he would encounter a trio of abandoned children with tragic pasts and become attached to them, delivering magical treasures from Neverland so that they could use and help him save his friends and everyone from Neverland....

Would I be sued if I did this and posted it on YouTube?

Be nice to me, it's a genuine question.There are so many adaptations of the book out there, telling about Captain Hook or the villainous Peter, have they all really paid royalties? And the piece did not enter the public domain this year.

This would be just one of thousands of retellings of the story and, as a still unknown and independent artist who just wants to tell a story about grief and friendship, I ask myself: Will I get really screwed if I do this?

#peter pan #wendy darling #tinkerbell #original story #original writing #fall little wendy bird fall #neverland #Youtube

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marciabrady · 5 months ago

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I remember you pointing out how hypocritical it is to call Snow White a damsel for being scared in the woods (tho she's just been almost MURDERED mind you) but not Belle who was attacked by wolves and needed rescuing and it's SO true. Literally every princess after Walt's girls gets saved by a man or needs his help. Yes even badasses like Mulan and Tiana! Merida, Rapunzel and Elsa all get rescued TWICE! What is with the cognitive dissonance of Disney fans?

I think people just go along with being spoon-fed the popular narrative. Merida's the perfect example- by intentionally making her a character that wasn't "defined" by a man, they made her entire storyline centered around marriage and her refusal to participate- Jasmine's the same and even Belle. If you take the Beast or Gaston or Maurice away from Belle's story, what are you left with? Meanwhile, if you remove a Prince from Snow White's, it'll largely remain the same. Everyone's allowed to have their favorites, obviously, but I think people need to start examining the story structure of these films and holding them up against the criticisms.

Anika Noni Rose often says, and most recently has been reiterating, that Tiana was the first princess that wasn't centered around a Prince and this is almost laughable to me. Tiana isn't successful in her endeavors prior to her arc in the film because she doesn't understand the message her father left her with. She thinks hard work is the only thing that will take her to her goals and it isn't until she discovers that she's been neglecting the dreamy, romantic side of herself, through Naveen, that she's able to achieve her goals. Him kissing her and turning her into a frog is literally what sets the plot in motion and earns the title The Princess AND THE FROG. And this is nothing against Anika, she seems to be a thoughtful, intelligent person, but the way she talks about Tiana seems like she's only upholding pre arc Tiana and that's literally the inverse of what her own movie tends to tout and, to answer your question, the Disney fandom/pop culture at large tends to do the same thing. They marry their favorite Princess to whatever's en vogue at the time and rewrite their narrative/arc/etc to align with that while doing the inverse to the "unpopular" princesses.

#ask #anonymous

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dragonbabes · 4 days ago

Text

The Thorns that Bind

A/N | I had to completely rewrite this chapter because word didn't save any of my edits to the very rough draft, so that's what it took so stinking long. I also struggle to get anything done when I feel even the slightest bit of pressure to complete it...

Pairing | [OC]Crow!Rook x Lucanis, Solas x [OC] Lavellan

Warnings | Several, actually: death, and also very dark themes are going to start coming to play in these coming chapters, starting with this one...

Words | 8,490

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 (In progress)

Chapter 3 | How Deep It Cuts

“So?” Isehari couldn’t really fathom how large Bell’s eyes grew when she was excited. Those bright brown eyes were akin to Fiori’s; she’d hoped to introduce the two someday. They both were spurred by curiosity and had a predisposition toward looking for the bright side of things. “What do you think?” Bellara leaned forward in her seat at the dining table and cast a curious glance at the journal in front of Ise.

“It’s sweet.” Isehari smiled softly, rubbing the rough pages between her fingers and scanning the words on the page before her again. It was a romance — something Lucanis was much more adept at reading than she was — full of tension and longing, smoldering stares, and stolen glances. It was hitting close to home, and the assassin shot several sneaky glances to the other Crow perched two seats away. Suddenly, it was hot in the room.

Ise flicked to the next page, read a bit more and gasped. The others, who had broken off into their own small and quiet conversations, looked up and assessed the elf at the head of the table. The rosy color that had taken up Rook’s cheeks and the roguish grin on her lips piqued their interest; she always caused trouble when she dawned that look.

“Sweet and scandalous!” Ise laughed as Bellara noticed that she had read a bit farther than intended. Ise’s eyes greedily ate the next few words before the startled Veil Jumper could snatch her journal back; words about tongues traveling and hands grasping, desperately. “Oh my, Bell!”

“What is it?” Neve, ever the curious spirit, tore away from Lucanis and leaned over in her chair trying to catch a glimpse.

“Nothing!” Bellara blurted, and Ise snapped the journal shut, handing it back to her friend.

“That’s nothing?” Ise questioned with a teasing look at her friend, which only caused the red hue taking up Bellara’s cheeks to spread up into her ears. Rook bit back her giggle.

“Ise!” Bellara took to giving her friend a scrunch-nosed, narrow eyed look before giving Neve a significantly softer, bashful look. “It’s nothing, Neve.”

“Scandalous? From my sweet Bell?” Neve chuckled and, determined to not let Bell brush this one off, leaned her chin into her palm and batted her eyes at the Dalish elf, “I’d have to see it to believe it.”

“Oh,” Ise replied with a wink to Neve, “It’s always the sweetest ones you have to worry about.”

“Tell me about it.” Neve leaned back in her chair. Rook’s eyes, when panning from Neve and back to Bellara, snagged on Lucanis. All the teasing left her at that point, and she suddenly felt the need to apologize to Bellara. Staring at the object of her affections while laughing about roaming hands and adventuring tongues had Ise’s stomach up in knots; she couldn’t imagine where Bellara was. Her hand found her friend’s arm.

“I’m sorry for reading too far.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” There was a sheepish smile on Bellara’s lips. Ise squeezed her arm and leaned to catch her eye. When she did, she continued with a glint in her eye.

“If it’s any consolation, I thought it was good. I’d read more, if you’d let me.”

“Really?” The elf perked at that. Ise grinned back.

“Yeah! I am, after all, a fan,” her green-blue eyes returned to Lucanis, “of wandering tongues and grasping hands.”

He tore his gaze away from hers instantly, and Isehari giggled to herself under the assault of Bell’s playful smacks. There was a redness that settled in the apples of his cheeks that made Isehari feel that she was on top of the world. No god stood a chance against her, because she had made the Demon of Vyrantium blush. She drank in how he shifted in his seat, stared down at the drink in his hand, and then… Trailed his eyes to Neve.

What that look meant, Rook didn’t know, but it was a punch to her gut. It wiped the smile from her face and made her run cold.

“Rook!” Bellara cried. Rook jumped and only managed to return the sly grin to her lips, cooing and leaning back into her chair. She sucked in a huge breath and folded her hands over her stomach in a white knuckled grip.

“You wrote that?” Neve cried. “Let me read it! I love smut.” Bellara scoffed and crossed her arms, safely locking the journal under her arm; her eyes darted the length of the room, landing everywhere except for Neve. Ise tried to keep her attention on the two bickering in front of her, but she couldn’t help but check if Lucanis was still looking at Neve…

He was. With a fond smile tugging at his lip. Rook tore her eyes back to Bellara; she wouldn’t be looking again.

“No! I didn’t –“ She cleared her throat and gave another snort, “That is not what I wrote!” Bellara took the time that everyone shared their snickers to give Ise another sharp look. She shrugged back at her, but couldn’t form a sentence to defend herself from it.

Who cared who Lucanis looked at? If anything, she was glad it was Neve… Right? Neve was beautiful and strong and so, so smart. She was everything someone could want… If Lucanis wanted her… Rook couldn’t blame him. And if Neve returned those feelings? Ise looked at her friend; how her chocolate eyes shimmered and her rich, olive skin seemed to glow in the candlelight.

Well, she definitely couldn’t blame her, either.

“So, Neve,” Rook would do Bell the mercy of redirecting the rooms attention, “You read smut?”

The room falls silent as Neve deadpanned and processed her admission from earlier.

Ise giggled over her drink as she watched a devious grin curve Bellara’s lip.

“She wrote… Like you.” Isehari turns her head in Varric’s direction.

“Oh yeah? What about?”

“Scandalous things, really.” Ise hoped that a joke would snap her out of it, out of the dead stare she’s shared with the ground for the past… Well, she doesn’t know, really… it doesn’t matter anyways. “She wrote about love.”

Her hand finds a brittle twig, and begins to wring it between her hands… It handles her abuse surprisingly well, but after a particularly harsh twist, it snaps.

“And now, I won’t write ever again.” The elf flinches at the sudden echoing of words. That she won’t.

��I’m sorry.” It barely comes out as a broken whisper. She can’t bear to look at Bellara — even if it’s not really her — so she looks past and to the murky green clouds about.

She hopes the team will look for Bellara and Davrin first. If she has to return — if she can return — and face the world without them in it… Ise turns her eyes to Varric. She’s not sure she can stand that.

“That’s all you’ve got, huh?” The words spit at her sound unnatural on Bellara’s lilting voice. “Empty apologies, empty promises.” She’s not sure when it happened, but the stone figure had brought her face dangerously close to Ise’s, forcing her to look; she holds her breath with a wobbling lip and looks down.

“You can’t even look me in the eye.”

~*~

There’s a rumble that water makes when it collides against glass. Those currents — invisible to the eye — would be enough to sweep anyone away. Even the Demon of Vyrantium. He tenses when he hears it; the warble of a bubble traveling, water being cut by a fish’s fin, and the hissing rumble of murky depths.

The clinking of a chain, the sting of a cut around his ankle; the weight of cold metal around his neck.

Lucanis shoots up, reaches for a dagger, and finds none. His hands will do. Rigid and upright, the assassin takes in the cell about him with dilated pupils; a large window with golden trim, schools of fish and bubbles floating by just outside, an empty table with half burned candles, the figure of a halla on a small table to his left… The plush and soft green fabric of a sofa beneath him.

Lucanis slaps a hand against the sofa and lets out a relieved breath through his panting. Thumb tracing over the fabric, he listens closely to the sounds around him. No screaming. No moaning or whipping or rowdy guards joking the hours away. Lucanis snaps his mouth shut, forcing his rapid breaths out through his nose, and nods to himself.

Right. He left the Ossuary. He has been free from it for months. Rook… She freed him.

Turning his stiff neck to the left, Lucanis takes in the ebony mask placed at the center of the long dresser against the wall. He takes another steadying breath and stands on shaky legs. He really should take the mask to get the large gash on the point of it buffed out. He’d bothered her about it before — appearance is very important to a crow, after all — but she’d only snickered back at him. Something about her liking the look of it; makes her look a little more intimidating, she said. It had made him chuckle, wondering who would be scared of her.

First, he stops to run a finger along the edge of finely maintained daggers, laid out next to each other on the table behind the couch. Next, he looks through the collection of carefully labeled poisons on the worktable by the door. He sobers to the thought that Isehari really is a woman as dangerous as himself. He knows she is a force to be reckoned with, but when he’s heard the heavens sing through her laugh, seen how her eyes reflect the sun and the moon, the way the stars dim next to her smile… He pities her enemies; both for being at the end of her sword, and for never having the privilege of knowing her.

“Strawberry Keel Over?” He blinks at the name of the pink liquid swishing about in the bottle he picked up. “What even is that, Rook?” He mumbles. What sort of things does she mix up in her free time? He pops out the cork and wafts the liquid. A strong scent of strawberry and cream assaults him. The faintest hint of vanilla… No, honeysuckle?

“Belladonna.” Spite hums, suddenly appearing and inhaling deeply. Lucanis pops the cork back in, replaces the bottle, and closes the dark chest.

“She really is a de Riva.” He sighs to himself, tapping his fingers against the top of the chest affectionately, before turning back to the couch. The room is relatively bare, but there are small things about that sing of Rook. A stack of books here, quills and ink next to stacked parchment, a violin tucked away in the corner. Her scent hangs on everything. He begins to wonder just how he’s ended up here, since the last thing he remembers is reading in one of the most uncomfortable chairs in the dining hall, fighting the weight of exhaustion.

Taash, who is sitting on the ground halfway down the hall with their arms tucked and a light snore coming from them, clears up any confusion. Spite was back in action last night, it seems. He kneels silently next to the Qunari and gently shakes their shoulder til they stir awake.

“You should get to your room.” He says, “I’m fine.”

“Spite’s been coming through a lot lately.” He can hear the question in their words but ignores it. A tight smile and a short nod are the only response he gives while helping them to their feet. Since Rook went into the fade nearly a week and a half ago, the demon has been a lot harder to keep leashed. He thrashes about more, bangs against the confines of Lucanis’ body, and howls in his head day and night. Spite is a sore loser. From the day they met, the demon has had the habit of calling Rook his; one of the many reasons Lucanis pushed back against her little flirtations.

“He didn’t try to leave this time. Just went straight to Rook’s room; said he needed to find something.” Lucanis ticks his head to the side; what? “I don’t mind spirits… I’m-“

“Ravaini… Yes.” Lucanis finishes for them and turns to them with a smile. “Still, you should be careful. Spite is a demon. If I cannot control him,” especially now that Rook’s disappearance has him twisted up in knots, “I cannot say what he’ll do if you continue to stand in his way, Taash.”

“Is that worry I hear from you?” The young hunter asks with a lopsided grin. He waves them off.

“Don’t act so surprised. Go. Rest.” He shoos them away by jutting his chin toward their room. He waits until he hears Taash’s door click, and then spins on his heel, returning to Isehari’s quiet room.

He casts his brown eyes about again. Her wardrobe is shut and the clothes within nicely folded or hung. The books stacked atop her dresser, housed on either side of her ebony mask, appear untouched. As he turns to continue his perusal, he takes note of one of the books; leather bound and untitled. From the pages he sees scraps of parchment jutting out at awkward angles. Curiosity gets the best of him, and he is pulling open the covers before he can think of the intrusion.

Written in neat hand on the front page is a short note:

Ise, I hear you’re off to stop the Dread Wolf. I’m pretty sure Viago’s gonna rub a hole in his head already, so I guess it’s best one of us stays. No need to stress the poor talon out more, no? Since you’ve forbade me from coming (really, a terrible choice) you have to write everything down in this journal. You know how I love your stories. To think my own sister will be the hero this time!

Stay safe, Lethallan. Whatever you do, make sure to bring my home back… And don’t let the Dread Wolf take you; if he tries, give him my regards. - Fiori.

He begins to thumb through the pages. The first entry is dated to nearly a year ago, and in rushed script that he’d expect from Rook. It begins as a letter, addressed to Fiori, and details a day of traveling and a git at the bar that Ise had to knock some sense into. They continue like that, in the tone of an annoyed and impatient young crow, ready to complete her contract and make it back home. He is warm, reading her words, can almost hear her saying them, and lets out a soft chuckle.

Lucanis takes a seat on the couch and devours each word. She was positive – happy, even – in the beginning of it all; glad to be out and seeing the world in a way she’d never had the chance to before. This seems to be the part of her that she’s hidden – or tried to – from the rest, until he reaches a blank page.

Blank aside from eleven words:

Solas started his ritual. Varric is hurt…

What did I do?

Varric’s name rarely crossed Ise’s lips. He was her good friend; Lucanis has always wondered why Ise didn’t talk about him more. The others told him wonderful, extraordinary stories of their time with Varric… But Ise?

She only ever looked away, as if she could still see him. He always assumed that his passing affected Ise more than she could admit, and she only needed time… But he reads her words again.

Varric is hurt…

He wonders at it for only a second, before he continues to the next entry; just as short, it’s simply a bullet list of things they did, things she felt we’re important and she needed to remember, or things she needed to do circled frantically or crossed out. Between the frantic notes and scribbles, he would find the occasional address to her sister.

We broke the Demon of Vyrantium out today, Fiori. You should meet him… He has a sweet voice and even sweeter eyes. I think you’d like him.

Lucanis quickly slaps the book shut and blinks at the wall until the burning in his eyes goes away. Should he even be reading this? He turns the journal about in his hand, as if it would spout a mouth and tell him if he’s wrong or not… The words in here are things she didn’t intend for the others to see, things she didn’t want to say…

Things he didn’t allow her to say.

He curses in a thickened voice, as his mind escapes him like a mabari slipping out of its collar and runs to the memory of her last visit to him before Tearstone island. The rosiness in her cheeks, how she stared directly into his eyes and at his soul, how she has started to say it. Those dreaded words.

Those beautiful, dreaded words he’d cut off. He was scared of it. All of it, and what it might mean; for her… For him… He dreaded the thought that the first time those words were said between them could be a goodbye…

He hears his name on Neve’s lips from the lighthouse’s library. What Emmrich says back, he can’t quite make out, but he assumes the professor pointed her this way since her heels start clicking down the hall. Should he hide the journal? What would Neve do if she knew he was snooping in Ise’s journal? He’d never hear the end of it. He’ll hide it, then, back under the pile of books. Before he can stand, Neve lightly raps her knuckles on the door and enters.

“Lucanis?” His back is rigid, and his hands tighten on the journal. “Emmrich said I could find you in here.” The scent of coffee hits him and he turns his head to her slightly.

“Did you bring coffee?” She rounds the couch and holds the cup to him.

“I did.” Lucanis raises a brow.

“Did you boil it?”

“No.” She quips back, “I watched you do it the other night, remember?” He hums and slowly takes the cup.

“Thank you.” Neve turns her eyes about the room and lets out a heavy breath.

“Keeps a tidy room compared to the rest of us.” She comments. “I wouldn’t expect that.”

“Crows don’t make a habit of unpacking too much in one place…” He swirls the coffee around and watches the dark liquid; he’s wary of drinking it. But Neve made it for him. He brings the cup to his lips.

“What’s that?” She motions to the journal in his hand. His grip tightens until his knuckles are white, but she continues her slow walk around the room. She eyes the ebony mask, reads the spines of the books, pokes at the nose of the halla statue, and then picks up the small silver mirror.

“Isehari’s journal.” How can he hide it? He clears his throat, taps his fingers on its cover, and chances a look at Neve. She watches him from over her shoulder, and he swears he sees a flash of pity ghost over her expression.

“Are you reading all of her secrets?” There’s a teasing tone in her words, but a softness in her eye. “You find anything good?”

“I…” He opens the filled pages and flips to the entry of the day of the ritual. “Read this.” Handing the journal to Neve and tapping his finger on the short entry, he turns his attention to the coffee. Her expression crunches in confusion and her dark eyes dart back to his.

“She did take a bad blow to the head that day… She was out of it for a while after.” Neve bites her bottom lip and reads the lines again. “It’s no surprise that she didn’t realize when she wrote this…” Lucanis only hums back and stares at his rippling reflection in the coffee. The sound of pages flipping fills the silent room; he’s convinced she’s not actually reading what’s on the pages with how quickly she sifts through its contents.

“Oh.” Suddenly, she stops flipping through the pages, and Lucanis turns to see what’s caught the Shadow Dragon’s eye: a page with Neve’s name written along the top. A fond chuckle falls from Neve, and Lucanis takes note of the dimple in her right cheek. “Look at this,” she turns the journal toward him slightly and reads, “Neve knows people. Go to Neve for people things. Eats fried fish — lots.” She laughs, “Wisps of curiosity hang off her; can’t blame ‘em… She knows interesting things. Always finding answers.”

“She kept notes on you?” Neve’s head falls back with a laugh Lucanis rarely hears from her.

“She did!” She continues to read, the smile slowly melting off her face as she reaches the bottom. Turning the page, Lucanis reads Harding’s name.

“Every inch of these pages are covered with notes…” Neve turns the page, “Looks like she was keeping notes on all of us. Favorite drinks and foods, even our favorite colors. Emmrich’s is lilac, apparently. Who we work best with, what worries us…”

“Interesting.” Is all Lucanis can think to say back. He desperately wants to snatch the journal from Neve and read what’s written on his page; but he stays still, ‘peacefully’ sipping his coffee.

“Is it good?” Neve motions to the drink. “Do I pass?” Should he lie? He raises a brow as he takes another drink and considers the bitter and burnt taste blanketing over his tongue.

“If you want coffee, just tell me.” Neve sags

“Just say it’s bad.”

“Your effort impresses me everyday, Neve.” She laughs and smacks his arm lightly with a roll of her eyes. Her attention turns back to the book, and his goes to the untouched room. What was Spite looking for in here? The room hardly looks ransacked by a manic demon; Lucanis has nothing to go off of.

“What were you looking for in here?” He asks the demon suddenly. Neve raises her head to him, eyes darting around with a punch between her brows…

“You?” She points to the coffee, “I figured you’d-“

“Not you.” He shakes his head. “Spite. I woke up in here this morning… Taash told me that Spite had been looking for something in here…”

“Huh...” Neve turns herself toward him on the couch and holds the journal up. “Was it this?” Lucanis shrugs.

“Maybe? It doesn’t look like he was searching for anything in here… And I don’t think he would’ve cleaned up after himself.”

“Well… What did he say?”

“What did you want to find in here, Spite?” The demon appears before him, like an earie reflection the assassin is still adjusting to, and looks around the room, stopping on the ebony mask.

“Rook connected to Pride. Here… I was looking for Rook.” Lucanis looks to the journal.

“He was seeing if he might be able to find a way to Rook from here… Since this is where she meditated to reach Solas.” The investigator extends the journal to Lucanis and considers with a hum.

“Makes sense. I think you should be the one to read through this…” He gingerly removes it from her hands, as if it would burst into flames just from his touch. Lucanis doesn’t intend to argue with Neve on it, both because he wanted to read every line between the covers of the journal, and he knows Ise would trust him to read it.

He didn’t deserve her regard, but she always gave it. He rubs his thumbs over the leather-bound journal as if it was Ise herself. His hands tremble, and he opens the journal to where he left off…

For now, this is the closest he’ll get to hearing her voice again.

~*~

“What?” The sniffling elf — who usually holds herself quite high — is scrunched into a ball a ways away from where Bellara had just been tearing her a new one. Varric surrenders his hands and turns away.

“Nothing!” Then quieter, more collected, “Nothing… Just… Been here a while, huh?” His hands find purchase on his hips as he rocks on his heels and looks everywhere than at her blotchy face.

“Then, by all means, leave! I’d hate to keep you.” Ise feels worse after snapping that at him and rests her head on her folded arms. “You make it sound like it should be easy.”

“That it’s not just tells me I chose the right person.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“I have?”

“Yeah… And now look where we are.” Trapped in an impenetrable prison, never to talk to another person, never to touch someone. Never to see Lucanis or tell him… She’ll never get the chance to tell him the truth. “I’m stuck here, and you’re-“ she can’t say it.

“Dead.” He finishes for her. She flinches at it.

“Yeah…” She deflates again and continues to trace idle flowers in the dirt. Fiori loves botany, and spent all their quiet nights shoved into their small room reading textbooks that Ise “bought” (she stole them) and spewing every little fact to her… It’s no surprise that Ise always finds herself drawing the petals of a rose or azalea while mumbling their scientific names or properties.

She misses those days. When it was simple… well, simpler.

Who’s she fucking kidding it’s never been easy. Though, she guesses if she’s here, she won’t have to worry about much of anything anymore…

“There she goes again. Giving up. Just like that.” His voice sends a cold rush through her, as if she fell into a frozen lake.

“Had I known she’d be so weak, I never would have trusted her.” Bellara’s voice hisses around her.

“It’s a bad idea to trust Isehari… I trusted her until the very end. And look where it got me.” There’s a gasp from Ise when she opens her eyes. Directly in front of her lies a colorless form — small and twisted — with round cheeks and curly hair. It was red, like hers. His eyes were hazel, now frozen in a dead stare, suck her into an icy and desolate place.

“Illen.” That name burned on her quaking lips like salt in a wound. She hasn’t uttered that name in eighteen years. Her dirt and blood covered hands move to hover above the beaten form before her… As if she could still save him. Her body is tense and heart hammering like it did that night.

“You remember.” There’s a hint of surprise in that cherubic voice. Ise lightly runs a finger over the freezing surface of his cheek, and she looks over his body; she remembers the black bruises over his pale skin, can hear the thudding of the blows that made his lip break and swell like that, can feel the slippery warmth of his blood on her freezing skin.

Of course she remembers. She will never forget.

“How old was he?” Varric’s hand on her shoulder makes her start, and she shoots him a quick glance from the corner of her eye; she recognizes the rage, disgust, and pity mixing on his features… It looks unusual.

“Eight.” His jaw clenches.

“And you?”

“I was ten years old.”

~*~

Viago stares – with a frown – at the skeleton pouring him his tea. The crow is rigid, obviously uncomfortable with being in the same room as a possessed skeleton and not taking a weapon to it. Manfred hisses with joy and brings his face level to the cup, watching the steam drift up and up. Viago’s brows pinch, he looks Manfred up and down and pulls his drink away. The crow angles his body away from him on the couch and tries to keep his attention on Lucanis.

“Manfred, come sit here.” Emmrich pats the chair next to him, where his companion happily bounced to.

“We’re sorry to drop in so suddenly.” Lucanis shakes his head at Teia’s words while sitting food down on the table. “We have news on Solas.”

Lucanis stills.

“Good. Pride owes us.” Spite growls, suddenly appearing and bending to be in his view, “We will make him pay.”

“What news?”

“He was spotted in Minrathous.”

“I figured you would want to be there, Lucanis.” Viago leans forward, sitting his cup down.

“You’re right. I’ll go get ready.” He spins on his heel and begins to stalk toward the door. His heart hammers in his chest, that thudding beginning to spread into his fingertips, all the way down to his toes. His hands twitch with the thought of being able to wring that wannabe gods neck. He’d take more pleasure in stabbing the bastard, but he needs answers first.

How does he find Ise? How do they get her out?

How could he betray her?

Then, and only then, would the Dread Wolf answer for his transgressions against Rook.

“I want to be there.” A voice Lucanis doesn’t recognize sounds just as he begins to push on the doors. He quickly turns over his shoulder to find the owner, a young elven girl with curly blond locks framing her round face. He brings in a sharp intake of breath as he recognizes the hue of her eyes. Eyes identical to Rook’s. Teia is up within a second with a noticeably concerned expression.

“Fiori! How did you get here?” Teia takes to checking the girl for any wounds but finds her intact. Fiori begins to respond but stops when Viago’s towering form appears behind Teia with an expression that could wither a flower in seconds.

“Why are you here?” Lucanis watches the girl squirm for just a second, before she balls her hands into fists, and lifts her chin.

“She’s my sister. I have just as much of a right to be there as any of you.” She scans the others standing around the circular table, eyes stuttering on Manfred. She only brings her eyes back to Viago when the talon lets out a short laugh.

“You? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Why shouldn’t I go? I’m trained. I’m ready.” Viago laughs harder this time.

“You’re ready? To kill a god? You haven’t even taken your first contract, and you’re ready to kill Solas?” Fiori shifts.

“She is my sister.” She repeats. Lucanis raises his brow and looks to Viago. The talon places his hands on his hips and stares back just as stubbornly as Fiori is. There’s silence around the room until Viago snorts, spins on his heel and takes his spot on the couch again. He takes a sip of his drink – eerily collected – and sits it down before answering her.

“No.”

“But-“

“Fiori, do you know how dangerous it was for you to follow us through the Crossroads? Without any of us knowing?” Teia, knowing a lost battle when she sees one, begins to lay into the elven girl.

“I got here fine, didn’t I?” Fiori crosses her arms over her chest and moves to sit down in a chair as if she’s lived in the lighthouse her entire life.

“That’s not the point. You put yourself at an unnecessary risk-“

“A stupid risk.” Viago interjects, Teia doesn’t miss a beat before continuing.

“What would you have done if you came across Darkspawn? Or Venatori?”

“I would’ve been fine. I’ve trained just as hard as Ise.”

“You would’ve gotten yourself killed. It’s dumb luck you made it through.” Viago raises his voice, effectively getting the girl to shrink back in her chair with that stone cold tone, “Then what, Fiori? Ise comes back and finds out that all she has done for you was pointless, because you went and got yourself killed?”

More silence follows. Lucanis has studied every expression and every spark that would find its way into Rook’s eyes over the months they’ve been together. He recognizes the stubborn line that Fiori’s mouth settles into, and the genuine disregard for Viago’s warning in the girl’s eye. She is going to follow them no matter what the fifth talon says. Lucanis steps away from the door, and the girl jumps as he silently places himself a bit to her left.

“She’s going to follow anyways.” Lucanis raises his brow at Viago, and the way his friend sighs, tells him that he knew that as well. There’s a bit of a gasp from Fiori as she stares up at Lucanis with wide eyes.

“You’re the first talon? Lucanis Dellamorte?” He draws back slightly, but nods to her. She stands quickly and closes the distance between them.

“Teia said you and Ise were close.” Lucanis sends a lidded look to Teia, who has suddenly found the tips of her hair very interesting. “Did she ever tell you why she wouldn’t visit me?” Lucanis’ mouth opens and closes as he tries to find an answer for her.

“She wanted to keep you safe. She faced three gods… If they discovered what you are to her?” Lucanis rests his hands on her shoulders and gives a reassuring squeeze. “She absolutely would not risk that.”

“And you would just throw that away. Walk yourself before the very gods she protected you from.” Viago grumbles at her; Fiori shoots a very quick and very sharp look at the talon. “Now, can I get to what I came here to take care of, or would you like to waste more of our time, Fiori?” The girl rolls her eyes at him.

“Thank you.” She mumbles to Lucanis before taking her seat again.

“I’ll go with you, Lucanis. If Solas really is in Minrathous, the Shadow Dragon’s are sure to have more information on him.” Neve says, standing from her seat and nodding at the two crows on the couch.

“I’ll write the Inquisitor. She’ll want to know.” Harding stands and scrambles out alongside Neve. Emmrich takes to discussing with Teia and Viago the progress on the dagger. Lucanis quietly takes his leave.

~*~

The team travelling to Minrathous didn’t speak a word from the time they’d left the lighthouse to the moment they step out of the Minrathous eluvian. The sun is high in the cloudless blue sky. It’d be beautiful, he thinks, if it weren’t for the crumbling remains of the sitting area this once was framing it. He chances a peak to Neve at his side, and notices that she’s already started to stalk through the dark remains of the Shadow Dragons base. He waits until they’ve stepped through the threshold of the shop before speaking – something he’d picked up from Ise, after the dragon attack.

“Still no word on the Venatori?’

“No.” He watches her cast her eyes about. His right hand instinctively reaches to the hilt of a dagger, Spite seems to awaken as each of his senses are heightened, and he begins his own surveying of the empty Minrathous street. “The Shadow Dragons have taken to lying low with everything that’s happened.”

“It’s… Quiet.” Viago comments. The mage straightens, her own hand braced on her weapon and turns to the group slightly. The fifth talon suddenly reaches out and latches tightly onto Fiori’s arm. “Listen to every word that I say like your life depends on it,” Viago begins with his finger pointed at her, and bringing his eyes level to hers, “because it does. You are not trained to be a full-fledged crow. That was the deal between Ise and I. You make poisons, and you stay safe. You stay close to me. If you can’t, you are glued to Teia or Lucanis. Do you understand?” Fiori casts her eyes around the ruined streets of Minrathous, eyes widening on the bodies still left rotting on their noose. Lucanis steps to Neve as Viago shakes the young girl and repeats himself, “Do you understand, Fiori?”

“Yes!”

“Not even guards.” Lucanis mumbles to Neve.

“I was thinking the same thing…” Tossing another look about, she gives him a firm nod, “We move quickly and quietly. Get to the hideout and see what’s been going on here.”

“Lead the way.” He offers his own firm nod back and sets his shoulders. They begin a quick weave of Minrathous’ twisted streets. No guards, windows drawn. His ears catch the faint sound of fast footsteps in the alley parallel to the one they’re passing through. Their direction changes suddenly and heads straight for-

“Neve!” There’s only a moment to react before a small, scraggly form slams into her, and lets out a panicked shriek. In a flash, Teia has them by their hair, and a knife to their throat. It’s then that Lucanis notices the face; a young boy with tousled and knotted shoulder-length brown hair, dirty cheeks, and missing one of his front teeth. The boy is dressed in rags, feet bare, and bangs kept back by a fraying red sash.

“Oh,” Teia releases the child and sheathes her dagger, “Sorry about that.” The boy only backs away from her and bumps into Neve, who steadies him by the elbows, turns him to her, and looks him up and down.

“Hey.” She begins simply. The child seems to shrink under her gaze – which Lucanis notes is a surprisingly warm shade of brown – so she continues softer, “Are you okay?”

He begins a wide and blank eyed nod, before blinking and giving a vehement shake of his head. Neve kneels at this, and Lucanis moves closer. Viago and Teia take up positions on each side of them, so that every direction is under the watchful eye of a crow. Fiori, to Lucanis’ relief, stays close to Viago.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Neve asks.

“The Venatori.” The child whispers, as if he’s scared just speaking that name will bring the bastards. She waits for him to elaborate.

“The Venatori?” Neve urges when he doesn’t speak up for a few more beats. He nods, then leans forward, cupping his hand over his mouth.

“They’ve been taking people. Everyone’s hiding now. I lost my sister on our way home… I’m trying to find her, but the Venatori saw me first.”

“Where’d you lose your sister?”

“By the market. I was hoping to give them the slip over here, but they have eyes everywhere.” Tears line the child’s reddening eyes. Neve shoots Lucanis a look. He gives her a nod; they’d get the boy to safety and see if there’s any trace of his sister after they check in with the Viper.

“Listen-“ She stops short, shifts, then asks, “What’s your name?”

“Aulus.”

“And your sister’s?”

“Lora.”

“Good. Aulus, I’m going to take you to a safe place. With the Shadow Dragons-“

“The Shadow Dragons?” The kid seems to shoot to life, now housing stars in his honeyed eyes. Neve pops a smirk onto her lips.

“Yes, the Shadow Dragons. But I need you to listen to everything my friends and I say.” Her eyes cast to Lucanis, and Aulus’ follow. The assassin gives him a short smile; Aulus only stares back with a blank expression. “Okay?”

“Ok.” Neve stands and adjusts her gloves.

“Seems we’re collecting children today.” Viago grumbles. Fiori gasps at him.

“I’m almost twenty-one!” She exclaims. Viago raises a brow and casts her a sidelong glance.

“Really? Could’ve fooled me, with the way you act.” Her cheeks redden, and she purses her lips as she gives him yet another glare… Is that all they do in House de Riva? Glare at each other and dig their elbows into each other’s guts?

“Alright, now stay close and-“ Neve’s cut short by the explosion. Lucanis is flat on his back and blinking at that pretty blue sky – now slightly obscured by thrown up dust – in the blink of an eye. He sees the writhing form of a blight tendril craning above them, like a predator eying its meal before striking. The hair on Lucanis’ neck stands.

“Up!” His warning is short and breathless, “Move!” He rolls to his right, Neve rolls to the left, yanking Aulus with her just a breath before the thick tendril slams down, throwing up stone from the ground and buildings. The city that was once holding its breath in complete silence, is now wailing; its hiding citizens pouring out from their homes that are being torn to pieces by blight and shielding themselves from the falling debris with hands over their heads. There’s a flash of pale blue light before Lucanis is hit with a frigid burst of air. The tendril separating the two convulses, and he swears he hears some twisted sort of shriek come from it, before it begins to draw away from the ground. Lucanis presumes it’s rearing for another strike. Just when there’s enough space, Neve pushes Aulus forward, and ducks under it quickly.

“Vi! Fiori!” Teia cries, rushing closer to the groaning mass of muscle and flesh; Lucanis can see the relief soften the lines of her face as Fiori is shoved into her arms and Viago dashes out next. They scatter away from the tendril, and sure enough, it strikes again where they had just been standing.

The ground shakes, and there’s a distant rumble; another area of the city being ransacked like this part.

“It’s spreading fast!” The mage cries, eying its rapid growth through building windows and up their walls. A young elven woman scrambles past Lucanis and knocks shoulders with him; when she stumbles, a tendril lashes out and wraps around her ankle. His companion latches onto the girl’s hand and begins a futile tug of war with the blight. She’s being dragged away with the girl. Lucanis swiftly takes a dagger into his hand and lunges forward, cutting mere inches away from the girl’s ankle, at the thinnest point. The blight recoils as he slices clean through.

Lucanis quickly returns to Aulus, who is still frozen a few paces away, grabs firmly onto his arm, and checks the others. He looks to Neve who is helping the woman up.

“We need to get back to the eluvian.” She gives him a despairing look and opens her mouth as if she is going to fight him on this. “We can’t outrun this, Neve. Best we can do is get who we can out.”

“I am Elgar’nan. First of the Firstborn. Last of the Evanuris.” Lucanis runs cold as the gods baritone voice slithers through his head. Still as disgusting and disorienting as before. Lucanis looks to Neve with a knowing look, finding horror fresh in her expression as well.

He keeps her eye with his mouth in a thin and grim line as tears build, and spill over onto her cheeks. He moves to her and raps her firmly on the shoulder, and she seems to start out of that dreadful state he knows all too well.

“Come to reign over you with a fine and gentle hand. Citizens of Minrathous, give yourself to me…” The assassin snorts, and nudges at Fiori’s frozen form.

”Elgar’nan is in my head.” Her wide eyes turn to Lucanis, “You hear him?”

“Let’s go.” He says to both her and Neve.

“Right.” Neve’s voice shakes. She draws in a trembling breath before shouting, “Follow me! Everybody!” Some notice, some don’t, “Follow me!” Only a few more begin to tag along.

”And together, we shall unleash magic so glorious,” the building towering over them begins to groan as blight rapidly grows around it like a snake, and it collapses inward under the weight, “So limitless… That all the world will be transformed.”

They scatter as the rubble of the building comes crashing down around them; some people aren’t so lucky as they are in dodging the jagged stone.

They’d only made it a short distance from the eluvian, but weaving through the crumbling streets while dodging the swinging and crushing of blight tendrils, tiptoeing around pools of the sticky black beginning to ooze from larger boils of blight festering in the cracks of houses, and avoiding being snatched up and torn away like flies proves a slow process. Lucanis chews at Elgar’nan’s words; that the world would be transformed. Looking at the grotesque landscape, the blood and ooze now coating the streets that he’d once found a charm in, he wonders how any creature could find this desirable.

Heavy steps and a warbling growl warn Lucanis of the Hurlock that soon bursts through a crumbling wall on their right. He dives out of the way of the blow and angles his blade so that the darkspawn’s sloppy swing is angled upward, giving Lucanis just enough of an opening to ram his second blade deep through its ribs. It lets out a cry that deafens out the shrieks of the city. Putting both feet to its chest, he kicks off it while yanking his sword from it. It stumbles backward but doesn’t fall.

He hates how many times he must stab a darkspawn before they die.

“Lucanis!” He casts a glance to Neve, who is holding off an onslaught of ghouls of her own. He waves her off.

“I’m fine! Keep going!” Teia is quick to appear at his side, throwing a small smoke bomb that begins hissing out smoke immediately. She then turns to Lucanis and begins to push him with the flow of the crowd.

“No time!” Is the only explanation Teia gives. He didn’t need much of one, anyways. They scramble backward through the narrowing street – the door to the old Shadow Dragon hideout is visible and looks relatively intact to his relief – while throwing the occasional spell or dagger at the horde on their heels, and dodging falling debris loosened by the blight’s wrath.

Lucanis scans the head of the small group they’re ushering and finds his target; Fiori’s golden curls whipping around as Viago spins her away from another ghoul throwing their heavy, clawed hands at them. There are too many of them swarming at his friend.

“Teia, Viago.” Lucanis breathlessly nods toward them. She doesn’t give him any sign that she’s heard him other than shooting in that direction. Lucanis keeps at the tail of the group as they begin to shove their way through the doorway to the eluvian. It’s a frustratingly slow process, but as soon as he’s close enough to his fellow crows, he flings himself into their fight. Heavy pounding on the ground – nearing quickly – tells him they didn’t shake the Hurlock from earlier.

Lashing out at a ghoul’s throat, he nearly cuts its head clear off and then buries his other sword to the hilt in another’s chest. He can hear the hurlock’s large axe scraping the ground to their right and starts as another large blight tendril bursts from the buildings across the way. It would crush the hideout – and the eluvian – to smithereens in one blow. They would all lose their way out of this mess.

“We need to go! Now!” Lucanis grabs Fiori by the hood of her cloak and yanks her to him. He runs, with her held tightly under his arm, to the dark doorway.

“Viago!” She cries, trying to push away from him, but he has her in an iron hold.

“He will follow. You need out.” Lucanis growls at her, navigating the overrun and darkened rooms; the eluvian’s glowing and shifting glass is a welcome sight. Neve is hurrying people through and meets his eye as soon as he steps into the room. As the last of the civilians disappear, he guides Fiori to it.

“No! I can’t go until Viago and Teia-“

“Go!” Lucanis hisses at her, almost desperately. If Fiori died while under his watch, Ise would never forgive him; he couldn’t live with that, whether he sees her again or not.

“I won’t!” She tears his hand off her cloak and looks toward the door with a contorted and twisting tearstained face. “Viago-“

“Go!” Lucanis takes her by the collar this time, and meets her eyes with a blaze in his, and then he shoves her through. He’d apologize later. Neve looks to the doorway again, “Go, Neve.” Lucanis urges her through, and she listens.

“Mierda!” He hears Teia curse after there’s a huge rumble and the ground shakes beneath Lucanis’ feet. The curly haired elf slams into the doorway, with Viago close behind and guiding her forward.

“Quickly!” Lucanis yells, shifting his feet and casting his eyes up to the reddening sky; just as it did at Tearstone.

Lucanis steps through the eluvian with Teia and Viago. The sound of the blights screeching and the animalistic gargles that come with darkspawn is gone in an instant. But, with the stillness of the Crossroads, comes the wails from the people they’ve managed to get out. He counts the heads.

Ten. Only ten managed to make it out with them.

“No!” The scream has Lucanis drawing his blades again, but he stops short when he finds the older woman leaned over the body of a boy of fifteen, if he had to guess. Stepping closer, Lucanis notices the boys hand clasped over his stomach, and the blood trickling over his pale skin… Skin with black already beginning to cut jagged patterns - like a million lightning strikes – just below his skin. Lucanis’ stomach twists and somehow his frown deepens.

“He’s been tainted.” Viago quietly says, coming to stand next to him. Lucanis nods, and his eyes flutter.

“We can take him to the Wardens and see if they can perform the Joining for him. It’s his only chance.” Neve is quick to be at the mother’s side, one hand on her shoulder, and the other reaches to hover over the boy’s wound; a milky blue light emanates around her hand in a sphere. His struggling slows, and his rapid panting slows; but not enough. “We need to move if we are to help him.” Neve urges the mother, and the woman seems to snap out of her trance. Entire body visibly shaking, she nods.

“Yes. We’ll get you to the Wardens, darling. You’ll be okay,” Her quaking hands brush the sweat soaked, sandy brown hair away from his forehead, “We’ll save-“

“No.” The boy stops his mother and shakes his head. “No, mom. I don’t- I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. I promise-“

“I can’t live like that mom.” His face twists with a sob, “I would rather die.”

“You… you’re not thinking clearly right now. Once you undergo the Joining, you’ll feel better!” She begins to sit him up, but the boy pushes away from her.

“Mom, please… I cannot live like that.” The boy keeps his mother’s stare, and Lucanis’ own eyes sting as he watches her shoulders sag and her head fall.

“It will be painful.” Neve tells him, almost in a whisper. Then, the boy’s eyes are on Lucanis. Why is he looking at him? He can’t help the slight shake of his head as the boy’s eyes trail down to the sword in Lucanis’ hand, making his expression fall, along with his heart.

Lucanis can hear the mothers sobbing worsen. He sees the boy turn back to his mother. He says something. His smile is soft, chin wobbling. His mother’s hand wipes at the tears falling from his blackening eyes, but really, she just smudges the blood and dirt around. She kneels and places a long kiss on his forehead… Lucanis wonders what that feels like.

The kiss of a mother on the forehead.

Neve and Teia’s shadows shift over the boy as they take his mother by the shoulders and gently pry her from him. She holds him until they part at the fingertips. Again, he meets the boy’s eyes. Viago slaps Lucanis heavily on the shoulder, walks to kneel at the boy’s side, and takes up his hand.

Lucanis kneels. The boy looks from Viago to him and then smiles at Lucanis. The dagger is heavy in his hand…

“Mercy, please.” It’s but a broken whisper on dying lips.

Prev | Ch 4: Mercy, I Beg (In progress)

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