#so of course in childhood a group of children held his face to open flame to see if he truly was a dragon after all :)))) spoiler alert! no

[silksworn]

not a daddy, but a Father

[afictionalwhore]

Little Miss Perfect

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A/N: I have so many plans for this bad boy that’s been sitting in the back of my mind for a hot minute now after a conversation with @jadequeen88. Thank you bby for reading over this!

T/W: dubcon/noncon; religious references and religious guilt; cheating

4.5K words

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There wasn't much at all in your little town in the middle of Nowheresville: population just over 300. The nearest Walmart was at least a twenty minute drive over to the next town, but you had a Dollar General Market to do your weekly grocery shopping. There was a school that ran from pre-k all the way up to high school, where you graduated from with a senior class consisting of a grand total of sixteen. The Dairy Queen down the road from your high school did best in the region, thanks to bored, local high schoolers on Friday nights. Your town also boasted the birthplace of the state's governor years ago, but no one remembered him, having three other governors since his last term. Despite the dullness of everyday life, you were happy. You had grown up best friends and high school sweethearts with the most respected boy in town: Natsuo Todoroki.

Of course, your quaint little town also had a church, as any well-to-do Southern town would. The church was like any other Southern Baptist affair, pristine, white, and much too large for such a small town. A long hallway behind the sanctuary led to a few classrooms, a choir practice room, and a stairwell to the basement. In the basement were the kitchens, a few more classrooms, and a large empty room where church events were held that doubled as the town’s community center. This was where bingo nights for the elderly members of the community were held, and the occasional baby shower or wedding reception could be held there. Pastored by Enji Todoroki, or Brother Enji as the town lovingly referred to him, the church congregation contained essentially the entire population of your small town. Even the local alcoholic your town was very hush about would make his way to Christmas and Easter services. 

Being Natsuo's sweetheart, volunteering at the church was naturally what kept your what would otherwise be boring life busy. There was always something to be done, be it a simple cleaning of the sanctuary or helping cook for the elderly's monthly bingo nights. Not only were you Natsuo's sweetheart, but you were the town's darling, working dutifully every Sunday by Natsuo's side with the church's children. You were a natural, studying early childhood education at a small, private Christian-based university just a few hours away where Natsuo had earned his pastoral ministries degree, aiming to take over the congregation when his father retired. The old ladies of the community constantly hounded you about when you and Natsuo would get married and give the church a baby to dote on. 

"After I graduate," you would say with a smile, dusting your flour-covered hands off on the aging pink apron that had to be from the 1950s before setting a timer for the hawaiian roll sliders in the ancient oven in the church’s basement kitchen. “I want to work a little, give back to the community before becoming a full time mom.” 

This was the only thing you dared fight Brother Enji on. Natsuo, two years your senior, had already been graduated for a year, and Enji had been adamant that you go ahead and marry after he had graduated, as eager as the old women that whispered to each other during bingo nights for you two to continue the Todoroki line. 

But you would not falter, stating that while you had every intention to marry Natsuo and sign your life off as a Todoroki, the least Enji could allow you was your education. You had dreamed since childhood of teaching at the school where you and Natsuo attended elementary together. You loved children, giving your all to the church children you worked with multiple times a week, but you were not at all ready for your own. You were just barely twenty-one years old; Natsuo a young and hopeful twenty-three. The thought of having children now scared you and Natsuo both. It scared you more than saying “no” to Enji.

You may not have had the loftiest goals of your small graduating class, but you were sharp and knew that education was not something Enji would take lightly. Surely, Enji wanted an educated woman as his first, and perhaps only, daughter-in-law, seeing as Shouto was likely to move across the country for college and never come back, and Fuyumi had no intentions of marrying. Touya, Enji’s oldest son with piercings and tattoos as numerous as stars in the coal dusted skies and his hair dyed black to match, was another situation entirely. 

Everyone, Touya Todoroki included, believed that he would have left by now. Touya had tried to leave, fleeing to a state university the moment he had graduated from your pitiful high school. Unsurprisingly to you and the rest of the congregation, Touya, with his undeclared major and runaway attitude, had been swept up in the party lifestyle of state school fraternities and quickly failed his way out of college. Brother Enji had been swift to bring him back home, ashamed and embarrassed at the congregation’s whisperings about what Touya had done to the Todoroki name. So here he was, Touya Todoroki, local rebel and stain on an otherwise perfect Christian family, begrudgingly coming to Easter service, listening to his father preach and watch his perfect brother, Natsuo, clean up the mess he had made of the family reputation.

You were there, naturally, front and center and practically glued to Natsuo’s side, in your pretty pink Easter dress. The pastel flowers decorating your dress seemed to float down the modestly lengthed skirt. Touya felt his blood boil, watching perfect little you with his perfect little brother listen intently to whatever biblical nonsense his father spouted off. He stretched, his suit feeling hot and tight, as though he were trying to discreetly scratch an awkward itch. You shifted in your seat, leaning slightly more into Natsuo, blissfully unaware of Touya’s hot gaze from the back row. 

Touya knew the routine, after a brief sermon to the entire congregation, his father would send you and Natsuo off to take the children to children’s church and youth group. You and Natsuo rose from your seats in the pews after Enji's final blessing on the children, your pretty skirt twirling with you as you spun to face the children. Your smile was as bright as a porch light on a Southern summer night, and the children flocked to you like little moths. They clung to your skirt and pulled you towards the door while the older kids trailed behind with Natsuo. Natsuo stood straight, as though he were a shepherd and you were his most beloved lamb. 

Touya made eye contact with his brother as you made your way down the aisle to the back of the sanctuary where he sat with Shoto. Natsuo looked at the older Todoroki with pure disgust and hatred, as though willing the gray ice of his eyes to freeze Touya to death on the spot. Touya broke the stare with his brother only to find that his bright aquamarine eyes met your own round ones just in front of him. Your brief surprise at his presence quickly melted into pity, a sad smile gracing your face, before you were swept out the door by the children.

The anger rose in Touya as you and Natsuo disappeared with the children out the back of the sanctuary. His blood boiled so hotly he felt he may burst into flames in the middle of Easter service. Before he could stop himself, Touya found himself rising from his seat. He needed a smoke, a drink, the floor to open up and swallow him down to hell like his father prayed it would. He just wanted out of the damned sanctuary. Shoto, who was feigning sleep beside Touya, cracked his eyes open to give Touya a quick glance, quirking an eyebrow in a silent question, “where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” Touya hissed. Touya knew Shoto could see straight through the outright lie, both of the youngest Todoroki's eyebrows now raised in further silent interrogation: "really?" Touya dipped his head below the back of the pew in front of them and mimed a cigarette. Shouto shrugged and closed his eyes again. Lucky for Touya, Shoto cared just as much about their father’s godly ramblings as Touya did, perhaps even less. Who would he snitch to that Touya had slipped out of Easter service for a smoke? If Shoto weren’t at least decently scared of their father, he may have even joined Touya.

Touya left the sanctuary and strolled down the hall towards the back entrance of the church, in no immediate rush to get back to his father’s sermon. He had almost made it to the back exit doors when he noticed a flash of pink fabric rustle down the stairwell to this left, accompanied by the graceful pitter-patter of your low heels against the hard stairs that led to the church basement. 

Touya didn’t mean to follow you. He really did mean to go out for a smoke. But he couldn’t help but overhear what was unmistakably your sweet, soft voice comforting who Touya guessed was one of your and Natsuo’s youths, egging him forward to eavesdrop and hoping to catch something he could one day use against you.

You and the girl from youth, a high schooler Touya would have to guess, finally arrived at an abandoned classroom in the basement.

See. There's nothing to worry about,” Touya heard you say. “If you want, I can get rid of it for you. Just go back to Natsuo and the others before they get suspicious.”

“Thank you so so much,” the girl sniffled. "But what about you?"

“Easy,” you laughed. Touya could hear your perfect smile in the gentle laugh. “Just tell them I had to stop by the restroom if they ask about me.”

"I wish I were as perfect as you," the girl said. Touya thought he would vomit.

"Nobody's perfect," you laughed. Touya thought he'd get a headache with how hard he rolled his eyes. How much more cliche can you get?

The loud scraping of the chair against the tile floor signaling that you were leaving broke Touya from his thoughts. Lucky for him, the basement hallway was dark with plenty of shadows for him to jump into as the youth girl made her way back to the stairs to join the rest of the youth. 

You had decided to stay behind for a few moments, examining something in your hands that the high schooler had given to you. When he was sure that the girl had gone back upstairs, Touya left his shadowy hiding place and slipped into the room, slamming the door behind him and clicking the lock.

You jumped up out of your seat at the sound of the door, turning quickly with a rustle of fabric and throwing your arms behind you to hide whatever it was that you were holding.

“Whatcha got there, doll?” He cocked his head to the side, as though his question were from an innocent puppy. The fire in his eyes and the smirking tugging at his face proved he was anything but.

“Oh! Nothing,” you stammered, stepping back into the table behind you as Touya stalked forward towards you.

“You sure about that?" he smirked.

It was as though the chairs parted themselves to make way for Touya.

"Drugs maybe? Ya know, if it’s weed you’re after, you can just come talk to me. I’ve got good connections still and can hook you up better than these high school wannabes. Maybe I could get ya something a little stronger even?”

You blushed at Touya’s insinuation. Your blush grew deeper, a perfect Georgia peach flush, when you realized the closeness between you two. It was the first time you got a good look at Touya. He was handsome, as all the Todoroki boys were, but there was a sharp edge to him. While Natsuo was handsome in the way that a freshly fallen snow is beautiful, Touya’s beauty resembled that of broken glass: dangerously sharp, potentially harmful, yet mesmerizingly beautiful.  

"No, it's nothing like that," you said, lifting yourself up to sit on the table in a pitiful attempt to escape him. His fierce blue eyes staring you down made you uncomfortable at the least. 

Touya didn't notice that he had reached you during his small speech until he was towering over your smaller frame, and you were scrambling to get away. You had to bend your neck back to look up at him. Touya felt a surge of power over you. This was the first time that Touya felt you were actually beneath him. Touya had gotten a taste of dominance over you, and it was something he wanted to savor and make last as long as he could.

Touya wasn’t obsessed with you in the sense that men like him typically obsess over pretty girls like you. Sure, Touya was a man with various unsatisfied needs, and he had thoughts of dreams of kissing you, of fucking you senseless. But his feelings for you went beyond just wanting to fuck you. Touya absolutely hated you and everything you represented. You were the exact opposite of him. You were actually wanted into the family by his father. You were loved by everyone you met. You were perfect, something that Touya could never begin to hope of being.

What Touya felt for you was something he’d never felt for anyone. Touya hated his family just as much if not more than they hated him. He hated your whole godforsaken town as much as they hated him. But you were different. The rage Touya felt towards you paled what he felt for his family or your hometown. He was used to being looked at like he was worthless, less than, a stain on the otherwise spotless community, and he was content with this. But you, with you perfect ways and perfect heart, never looked at him with that disgust, instead your eyes were filled with pity everytime they fell on him. Touya wanted you hurt just as much as he was hurting. He wanted to ruin you and your perfect world, and watch the pity in your eyes turn into a hate that rivaled his own. 

Touya grabbed at your wrist behind you, causing what was in your hands to clatter onto the table and bounce on the floor below you. Keeping you firm in his grasp, Touya looked down to see a pregnancy test on the floor: positive.

“Is that yours?” Touya inquired, his mouth pulled into a sneer that caused your stomach to twist with disgust.

“No,” you flatly replied.

“Okay,” Touya mused, mocking. “So if it’s not yours, then it’s the girl that just left’s?” 

“Why does it matter to you, Touya? Who are you to judge her?”

“I don’t care what the young slut does in her free time. Or should I say, who she does,” Touya laughed more at the discontentment in your face than at his crude joke. “But I know a lot of people who would care. Number one being my dad.”

“Don’t, Touya. Please don’t say anything.”

“Would you let that poor girl shoulder the blame herself?” Touya’s brilliant blue eyes were burning into yours, causing you to freeze like a deer in headlights. “Or would you help take up her cross? Isn’t that what a good little Christian girl is supposed to do? I guess you’re not really a good Christian girl though, what with all the lying and secrets. Does my brother even know about this?”

“No,” you dropped your head to break Touya’s stare. “Nobody but me and you know.”

“What are you going to do to keep it that way?”

“Touya, what do you want from me?” Your voice trembled at the thought of how Touya could wreck your reputation with just the slightest slip of his tongue. “There’s nothing I have that you could want.”

“You have so much I want and you don’t even fucking know it,” Touya growled. 

A feeling of dread rooted in you at the drop of Touya’s voice. You looked back up at Touya with wide doe eyes, blushing under his intense blue gaze. As Touya gripped your smaller wrist in his large hands he realized the one thing he wanted to see in your eyes more than hate—fear. Touya could feel himself growing hard at your fearful expression. 

Touya pushed you down onto the table so your legs dangled awkwardly off the edge and grabbed the fabric of your skirt and lifted up, exposing your white lace panties.

“What are you doing? Touya!” you exclaimed. 

“Oh lace? What a sweet surprise; though I think black would suit you more,” Touya said, ignoring you. 

“What’re you doing? Touya! Stop!”.

“You don’t want me saying anything do you? You said there’s nothing you had that I wanted. Well that’s a lie.” Touya smirked at you while pulling down your panties. “I want to wreck this sweet, perfect pussy. Now just stay still. You’ll feel so good.”

Touya hadn’t meant to take it this far. He had only meant to scare you a bit. But seeing your fearful eyes wet with tears threatening to spill over and ruin your perfect makeup was too much for him to continue holding back. He realized in that moment that his hate for you was just a sad attempt at burying the admiration he held for you at standing up to his father about marrying Natsuo so soon. He wanted to be the one to take you. You were going to be his, not Natsuo’s, but this would be the only chance he would get at having you. Touya wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity.

Touya’s long tongue flicked out against your newly exposed cunt, licking up and down from your tight hole to your sensitive clit, getting you sufficiently wet from your own growing and betraying arousal and his spit. The ball of his piercing rolled against your clit. You jumped with a small yelp and pushed your hips against him to get away, which he mistook as a sign of pleasure.

"Don't hold back, doll. I know you feel good." Touya said. You could feel his smile against your heated flesh.

You didn’t feel good, not at first. His tongue felt slimy and foreign. You weren’t used to being spread open, and your legs felt like they were going to cramp at the angle Touya had you pinned. You felt dirty, especially as you began to relax and enjoy the sensation of Touya’s tongue against you.

As the wet noises from Touya drinking in all you had to offer increased in volume, you found your hips bucking up not in an attempt to push him away but to draw him in more. Touya slipped a finger into you, and you gasped, having never been filled before. You felt like a harlot, but the pleasure Touya was giving you overtook the guilt.

“Touya, please,” you begged, praying for Touya to finish soon, that he would take your pleas as a begging for him to stop. You mostly prayed for forgiveness.

“You close, baby?” Touya asked. You nodded, despite having no idea what you were close to.

Touya inserted another finger, curling them against your wet, gummy walls as his mouth enclosed around your throbbing bud. The sound of your panting and the wet slopping noises coming from between your legs felt too loud. It was all you could hear along with the pounding of your heart.

You felt a twisting in your gut as Touya’s finger quickened their pace. It was like a knot forming deep within you that was threatening to break, stretched too taunt at your tensing muscles. Touya lavished you in sweet praises as he continued eating your dripping pussy, humming against your clit how good you taste.

That was all it took for the knot to break. Touya finally released his grip on your thighs to allow your legs to close tight around his head. Your inner muscles sporadically twitched around Touya’s fingers, attempting to milk him. Your vision grew hazy, and you couldn’t hear anything outside the distant voice of Touya egging you on as you rode out your very first orgasm on his face.

When you had finally come down from your high, you noticed Touya supporting your legs as they trembled around his head.

“Did you feel good?” Touya asked, sickening smirk still plastered on his face.

You only had the energy to nod.

“I guess you aren’t so perfect after all. I mean look at ya, doll, cumming all over your boyfriend’s brother’s face.” Touya chuckled as you turned away, face burning in shame.

How could you face Natsuo? As you turned away from Touya a poster of the Ten Commandments mocked you. You had no hope after breaking the seventh, “Thou shall not commit adultery”. You began to cry at the thought of betraying Natsuo. Even if it wasn’t originally by choice, you were still, in your mind, an adulteress. Never being one to keep your own secrets, you feared that you were also breaking the ninth commandment, “thou shall not bear false witness”, through lie by omission. 

“So is she keeping it or what?”  Touya’s unexpected question brought you out of your self loathing.

“What?” you replied, not understanding what Touya was referring to, brain still foggy from your first orgasm.

“That girl. She keeping the baby? Or is she ya know?” “I don’t know,” you slowly said.

“Would you keep it?” Touya pressed.

“Yes, of course,” you replied in your perfect godly manner, despite just having your boyfriend’s brother’s face buried in your cunt while Easter service continued in the sanctuary above.

“Even if it were mine?” Touya asked, taking you off guard.

“I don’t know what you—“

Before you had time to question him further, Touya had pressed the tip of his cock into you.

“No no. Touya please don’t. Please.” You cried, trying to piece together when he found the time to undo his pants.

You had already given away so much of your body away to Touya and felt yourself growing sick at the thought of Touya taking away what you and Natsuo fought to save for marriage.

“Now I know it’s big, much bigger than my fingers, but you’ll get used to it.” Touya grunted as he pushed himself to the hilt, hips flush against yours. You gasped at how full you felt, and your muscles squeezed around his cock at the larger intrusion, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Hey, hey. Just relax,” Touya said. “Didn’t I just make you feel good?”

You cried, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, as Touya fucked into you, his thick cock hitting every nerve. You clutched at Touya’s arms, nails digging into his tattooed skin as you tried to find purchase. The stretch to accommodate Touya burned and the slap of his skin against yours stung. With each heavy thrust, the head of Touya’s cock knocked on your cervix, as though he were the beloved asking to cum in. 

Eventually the pain subsided into pleasure and your sobs quieted into sniffles before turning into soft moans. Your tears had dried, leaving your makeup remarkably intact.

Touya pressed a hand against your mouth in an attempt to muffle the noises spilling out of you.

"I bet you thought your first time would be perfect, didn't you?" Touya punctuated the thought with a particularly hard thrust that had your body jerking like a ragdoll. “Bet you thought your first time would be with Natsuo. Slow, soft, perfect love making, right?” Another rough thrust that would have thrown you off the small table had it not been for Touya’s other hand holding a fast grip on your hips to keep you pinned 

You answered with a sniffle and moan, and turned your head away from him to hide your tears.

“Well, princess, we don’t have the time for that shit,” Touya laughed, noticing the fat tears threatening to roll down your flushed cheeks and effectively ruin your makeup.

"I may not be perfect, doll, but I'm still pretty good, right?"

You turned your head back to Touya, blushing furiously at the hungry look in his turbulent eyes and hating yourself for how your body had reacted to his touch. The knot in your stomach was forming again, making you desperate for release. Touya laughed as you involuntarily pulsed around him, your body’s traitorous attempt at pulling him in deeper. 

"Just hang on, doll. It'll be over soon." Touya leaned down to trail hungry kisses along your neck and jaw, nipping here and there at the modest amount of exposed flesh on the top half of your body.

You whimpered at how cool Touya’s wet kisses felt against your heated skin. With no real strength in your body, you weakly wrapped your arms around the back of Touya’s neck, desperate for something to hold on to as you and Touya quickly approached your ends.

As his thrusts lost their rhythm and became more desperate, Touya’s hand left your mouth to join its twin at your hips. Touya lifted your hips slightly, giving himself deeper access into you. The new angle had your head spinning and you cried as you felt the knot once again threatening to break.

“Just like that, doll,” Touya chanted as he rolled his hips into yours, pelvic bone hitting against your clit with each roll of his hips. Your warm, wet walls squeezing around him in waves like an earthquake had him toppling over the edge, spilling hot white into you, causing you, in turn, to follow him off that ledge.

Touya laid his heavy body over you, propping himself on his forearms so as not to crush you. You took a moment to regain your breath before reality came crashing down on you.

Touya assaulted you, and you enjoyed it. Touya took away your first time, and you let him. You didn’t fight him back hard enough. You didn’t want to fight him back. You fucked your boyfriend’s brother and loved it.

You started crying, kicking and beating at Touya to push him off of you. 

“Get away from me!” you cried. You sat up painfully straight and clutched at the fabric of your dress at your chest.

Touya chuckled seeing you act like a feral kitten. He tucked himself back in and fixed his pants, acting like nothing had happened. 

“You better hurry up before Natsuo asks where you were. You’re smart I’m sure you’ll come up with some lie, you perfect little sinner.” Touya winked and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head before exiting the room to join Shoto back in the sanctuary where their father was sure to be finishing up his sermon, leaving you to sit in confusion at what had just transpired between the two of you. 

You wept.

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[peanuts-and-pickles]

Glitches, Candles, and Knives

Summary: Five and Sloane (from the Sparrow academy) become (strictly platonic) friends. One day, while hiding out in a secret room, Fives trauma from the Apocalypse carries over and effects his power, making him “glitch”. He keeps it a secret from everyone, including Sloane, but little does he know Ben saw the whole thing. Later, on a mission, he gets injured, looses control of his power, and his secret leaks.

Warnings: Fighting, graphic violence, mentions of blood, a stabbing, Five in pain. This is my first writing piece, please let me know if I forgot any. 

Word Count: 1139

(Ok guys this is my first ever public writing piece, so i’m sorry if its bad. I would love constructive criticism, but plz don’t be mean, i’m sensitive)

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Number Five blinked to the hallway, making sure the coast was clear. He gestured to Sloane, who was peeking around the corner. The two of them crept down, through the old house, into the creaky basement. Five lifted the moth ridden carpet, which released a puff of dust into the air. Sloane coughed, waving it away from her face. She lifted the trap door hidden beneath, and together they slipped into the secret space they had both discovered when they were kids. 

The two had become secret friends, after she and him had bonded over the stupidity of their siblings on a mission. Once they realized they both had many things in common, they slowly opened up to each other. Their siblings had no idea, of course. Nether Sloane or Five had any intention of showing any weakness, which, to them, apparently meant making friends. (Also, it was likely they would be considered traitors by their respective families.) 

Both Five and Sloane had found the hidden room when they were young, separately of course. Once they discovered the other knew about it, it became their secret hangout. 

Sloane's finger burst into flame, and she lit a candle, the soft glow gently illuminating both their faces. 

Five snorted and clicked on a flashlight. He never was one to believe in unconventional methods. 

They talked for a long time, about life, their respectable childhoods, their siblings, and Reginald. 

While the Umbrella’s childhood had been miserable, the sparrows had been... tolerable. Reginald was still the jerk he always was, but seeing how the first batch turned out, he decided to try a different approach on the sparrows. By a different approach, he meant calling them by their names, instead of numbers. Also,  not locking any of his children in mausoleums. 

The pair talked long enough for the candle to burn low, until Sloane’s head dropped onto Five’s shoulder, and she began to snore. 

Five glanced at her, before focusing on the candle, the light reflecting in his dark eyes. 

But Five and Sloane were not alone. Across the small room, Ben  watched the two of them. He sat, his back against the wall, watching Five trace patterns in the dusty floor. He wished he could say something, anything, but there he sat, dead, and silent. 

Suddenly, Five doubled forward, clutching his stomach. He made a small sound of pain, and his body… flickered. The only way to describe it was like when a t.v. screen glitched, sometimes in two places at once, unfocused and pixelated. Ben started forward, calling his name. Of course Five couldn’t hear him. His body was still broken, flickering. Ben felt like he was seeing double. Panic crept up his throat. Should he get Klaus?

Five gasped, and the glitching stopped. He sat forward, his breaths quick, ragged and painful. He clutched himself, his body still shaking. He glanced over at Sloane, who was still mercifully asleep, her head leaning onto her shoulder.

Five hugged himself tighter, his knees drawn to his chest. He looked at his hands, and in the softest voice possible, whispered “What’s happening to me?” 

That was when Ben noticed the soft grey ash, drifting through the air, coming to rest on Five’s shoulders. 

                                             .         .         .

“Sloane. Hey, Sloane,” Five shook Sloane's shoulder. “Mm?” Sloane stirred, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Five watched her for a second, his hesitation clear on his face. Ben leaned forward. “Tell her,” He muttered.“Dads calling us.” Five said, getting up. “Better put out that useless candle of yours.” Ben sat back, disappointed and frustrated.  Five always was bad at asking for help. 

Later, the two academies stood in front of Reginald, dressed in their mission suits, masks on. The Sparrow and Umbrella academy stood noticeably apart from each other, giving hateful looks across the divide. 

“There is currently a bank robbery taking place at cornerstone bank. Nothing you can't handle. We must hurry however, as it would be ideal to arrive before the city’s incorrigible police department does…”

As Reginald kept talking, Ben watched Five. The others hadn’t seen what he’d seen in the room beneath the floorboards. If they had, they'd be bombarding Five with questions, trying to help in the only way they knew how. That's why Ben didn’t tell Klaus. Not even when he noticed Five’s hand, hidden behind his back, glitching just like his whole body did in the basement. 

Reginald’s pep talk ended, and the groups dispatched off on their mission. 

Luther slammed a robber over the marble counter, his skull cracking on impact. He turned, and sprung into the fight, his chest bare, all his monkey hair out in the open. 

While Alison dispatched a robber quickly, she tossed a broken pipe to Marcus, who made quick work of his own assailant. Throughout this all, Five and Sloane fought as a well coordinated pair, fighting efficiently, each person's power helping them in their own way.  When a robber pinned Sloane against the desk, Five kicked him in the small of his back, and then when he turned around,  punched him in the face. 

“Hey Five! Heads up!” Diego shouted, whipping a knife out of his belt. Five jumped back, and Diego threw with scary precision. He focused on the knife, curving it around the corner, heading straight for the unsuspecting robber. That's when the robbers friend tackled Diego, breaking his concentration. 

The sounds of fighting were suddenly broken by Sloane's scream. She stared in horror at the knife, sticking out of Five’s stomach. He was staring at it too. With one shaking hand, he touched the bloody wound, and stared at his fingers, dyed red. A strange quiet came over the group, teetered on the edge, and then fell. His sibling’s rushed toward Five. Unfortunately for him, the robber, who Diego's knife was meant for, got to him first. He slammed Five against the wall, and in one smooth move, yanked the knife out of Five’s stomach and held it to his neck. “Don’t move,” the robber growled, looking around at the group. Underneath him, blood dripped from Five’s lips. His whole body shook with pain.

 Ben was the first to notice the gradual flickering slowly taking over Five’s body. But soon Luther did too, and his voice joined those trying to reason with the robber. “What the hell is happening to Five?!” Klaus shouted. Because now Five’s whole body was glitching. This time, worse than before. 

Ash rained down around Five, and rubble flickered in and out of existence around his feet. Cinders joined the flickering ash. 

“What the hell?!” The robber backed away from five, who slid down to the floor. Five flickered, crying out in pain. 

“It's the apocalypse,” Vanya breathed. “He brought the apocalypse here. somehow,” 

As his siblings rushed toward him, Five flickered once, twice, and then disappeared in a flurry of cinders and ash. 

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To be continued???

[mommy-medusa]

Medusa’s Child

First chapter of Medusa’s Child! I’m posting this just as a test to see if y’all like it!

———————

She was first alerted of a presence by an uneven splashing against the nearby shore.

It was the early evening, and the sun was at its best point in the sky, raining down on Sarpedon in just the right way to make her scales light with painless flames. She stretched out on her branch, pressing her bare belly up to the warm rays. Her tail flicked lazily while her mane of snakes hissed and tugged in the direction of the noises. She swatted a clawed hand at them.

  “Let him come,” Medusa murmured in a husky, languid voice, not bothering to open her eyes. “You know he won’t stand a chance anyway.” She ran her black talons down her exposed breasts and stomach, chuckling deeply. “He may as well die with the image of a beautiful woman in his mind. We can give him that, at least.”

There were mixed reactions from her snakes, some spats of disapproval, some hisses of agreement, but they all coiled back down into quietness. Or, as quiet as a head full of serpents could be.

Compared to other creatures across the land, Medusa had a remarkably good childhood if she did say so herself. Her parents were the ferocious Ceto and cold Phorcys, ancient sea gods that kept the ocean seething with their monstrous children.

Phorcys was a grey-haired, fish-tailed mountain of a man, with rough red, spiky crustacean skin and huge crab claws that were strong enough to snap off the head of any mortal man that approached his territory. He was faster than any sea creature and stronger than any current in the existing waters. He could create a tsunami big enough to drown Greece with one splash of his mighty tail.

Ceto was quite possibly more terrifying than her father, however. She was a fair maiden with shiny, unblemished ivory skin she never covered up and long, wavy black hair that floated like Kraken tentacles in the water around her. Her eyes were green and sharp enough to cut through obsidian, and her voice was booming enough to crack the earth and drain the entire ocean. She was as venomous as her animal creations, but she taught Medusa discipline and respect at a very young age.

Together, the two of them brought forth a myriad of devilish children. Ekhidna, a dangerous she-dragon with the head and breasts of a beautiful woman and the body of a coiling serpent; Scylla, a giant crab that ate sailors; Ladon, a dragon with one hundred head; the Graiai, three grey hags that shared one tooth and one eye; and the Gorgons, a trio of women with the bodies of serpents and hair made of living, venomous snakes.

Medusa was a part of the final group. Which was the best, for the record.

Medusa and her two sisters were born on a dark day, where the sky seethed with storm and the sea seemed to wrath against its gods. Through crashing waves and spitting sea foam, Ceto dredged her soaked, swollen body from the hissing water and into a cave where it was dry. The tide tried to chase her, nipping at her heels like desperate piranhas, but could not chase her all the way up the sand.

Within the cave, the pelting rain and howling gales were muffled by thick stone. Droplets of water dripped from stalactites that hung from the ceiling like dozens of monster fangs. Small tidepools were laid across the ground like traps, seemingly existing to trip Ceto and make her crash down onto her thick belly. But she managed to avoid them, hissing strings of curses to the starfish and crabs and tiny fish that thrived within the wet sinkholes before collapsing to the ground, powerful cramps rippling through her body.

There, Ceto gave birth in the eye of a raging hurricane, her monstrous children writhing out of her womb, clawing and scratching for the world outside of her body.

Stheno was first, born thrashing and hissing and brimming with rage the moment she came out. She was a thin little thing, but her blood red tail whipped around with enough power to crumble mountains. Her crimson mane of snakes sprung to life instantly, fangs flashing, hissing so loud they challenged the whirlwind outside the cave. The scales upon her head and face made it look like she was permanently stained in mortal blood, and the boar tusks curling out from her mouth looked wickedly sharp. Mere moments after being born, she had lunged at a tidepool and ripped apart a small crab with bronze claws, devouring it in just a few snaps of her powerful jaws.

Euryale came next, sliding out in a slick of fluids and screaming so loud she threatened to bring the whole cave down on top of them. Her white and yellow tail lashed as she cried, sending clumps of wet sand flinging through the air. The mane of snakes upon her skull, which had red snouts that looked like they had been dipped in blood, wailed with her, strange, raspy sounds that vibrated through the air like static electricity. There were small horn nubs protruding from her forehead, which had explained the pain when she was coming out. Stheno tackled her, whacking their tails together, and began wrestling with her.

Finally, out came Medusa, green scales shiny and new-looking. The first thing she remembered was seeing her eldest sister chewing on her second eldest sister’s tail. She had blinked her golden yellow eyes at them, flicking her own emerald green tail like she was expecting something to be attached to it. And then, she was lifted up and she saw a beautiful woman gazing down at her. Her mane of snakes snapped at the long black hair cascading down onto her belly.

  “What peculiar little beast you all are,” She remembered her mother rumbling. Ceto scooped up Stheno and Euryale and held all three sisters in front of her. “And what slayers you will all be, indeed.”

And she was right.

Medusa’s childhood passed by in a blur of mortal blood and seawater. Her mother taught her how to strike fear into mortal men. Her father taught her how to swim and fly when all of their wings eventually grew in. And her sisters taught her to hide her prey or else it would get stolen.

She was raised in the darkest reaches of the ocean depths, where granite tunnels formed interlocking caves and caverns below the rolling waves. While most children grew up raising family goats and playing with dolls made of straw, Medusa and her sisters grew up taming sea monsters and playing hide-and-seek with venomous lionfish. They created crags of coral along the seafloor with their eyes alone and swept through the ocean currents on scaled wings. When they would go up to the surface, they watched the mortals in their wooden vessels, laughing at the way they attempted to overpower the waves that rocked them mercilessly.

That was when they discovered their deadly eye power.

Medusa was a monstrous teenager, floating along the ocean’s surface, when Stheno presented the idea to her.

  “Swim into their nets and pretend to be dead,” Her older sister had said. Sunlight glinted off her blood red scales. When she smiled, her teeth were like a shark’s. “When they pull you up, give them a scare.”

Medusa gave a laugh. The only thing better than observing a mortal’s stupidity was causing the mortal’s stupidity by interacting with them. Of course, she agreed.

She swam into one of the large nets drifting beneath the boat, startling off a cloud of slippery grey-blue fish. She let herself get tangled up in its loops, tugging on the ropes enough to alert the sailors. After a few moments, the net began to rise, and she faintly heard the giggling of her sister’s vibrating through the water.

Cool sea air hit her bare skin; a series of gasps exploded throughout the vessel. The rough feeling of wood chafed against the scales on her exposed back as the net was dropped into the boat. She struggled to keep in the giggles and play dead as loud murmurs whisked around her.

The men were wondering what she was, asking themselves how they managed to wrangle up a thing. One of them poked her tail with something pointy and she almost flinched, but managed to tighten her muscles and stay still.

And then, there was a hand grabbing her breast.

The man above her purred out something about her being beautiful and warm and the others should “give it a try.”

Her eyes snapped open wide. She ogled the man above her in shock and fear and disgust; he was a scruffy and flabby creature with hungry eyes and crooked yellow teeth. His hand remained on her breast as they locked gazes, and then his face did something strange.

It twitched. And his eyes went weirdly blank. And he sucked in a harsh breath.

The man’s entire body jerked like his soul was trying to claw its way out of his back. His brown eyes bulged and rolled wildly in his skull, and Medusa could see grey spreading rapidly over the eye balls.

Stone began to march across the man’s flesh like a swarm of fire ants. He tried to scratch it off, but his nails bounced right off. His movements quickly began to stiffen as whatever came over him took hold.

His chest froze solid first, then his hands and feet, his ears, his arms and legs, all the way to his throat. His eyes were no longer brown, rather blank grey. His greasy blonde hair did not sway in the cool breeze. His mouth was open, teeth blunted by rock, and twisted in an agonized expression. One hand was extended outward to his crewmates in a final gesture of desperation.

The man had been turned to stone.

The other mortals on the boat began to frenzy. Some ran away in fear, others brandished their weapons, but they, too, met the ill fate of their crewmate. One stare and they hardened into a statue against their will.

Stheno and Euryale had been alerted by the noise and they flew up to the ship. Both of them looked shocked at what was going on.

  “What is happening?” Euryale asked.

  “I-- I don’t know.” Medusa replied, slowly sitting up. She was absurdly confused at what was going on. “I turned them to stone.”

  “How?” Stheno demanded.

  “I looked at them.”

  “Hm.” Stheno lashed out at a fleeing young man and flared her giant red wings open, essentially trapping him. Medusa heard a short scream, and then silence. When her sister pulled back, the man was frozen in an encasing of stone.

The discovery of their power sparked great fear across the land, but amazement inside Medusa and her sisters. Stheno used it the most, killing more men than Medusa and Euryale combined. She kept her favorite statues in her lair as trophies, adorning them with her jewels and other treasures.

Euryale rarely ever killed, not because she didn’t like it, but because she never went out of her way to go around mortals. She rather watch them from afar, observing their strange hive mind mentality.

Medusa was a mix between the two. Sometimes she would simply stay away, other times she liked to see how dumb mortal men were when she came across them.

When they eventually came of age, the three sisters ventured off from the darkness of their homeland sea. Medusa went to an island called Sarpedon, claiming it as her own domain. Mortal men saw it as an arena, however, and often sailed to her home to challenge her. It wasn’t long before her island was filled with the statues of foolish men, decorating her gardens with the trophies of her success.

And another was about to be added to the collection.

There were crashes through her jungle; the stupid man was romping through her home and disturbing her nap!

Sighing, Medusa uncoiled her elegantly long body from the tree branch and carefully climbed down the trunk. Her emerald green scales and lucious brown skin shimmered in the sunlight filtering down from the canopy of leaves up above, dewdrops from the condensation of her garden sliding like melted diamonds down her tail. She slithered through the weeds, passing by ruined pillars and petrified statues, all of which were swathed with moss and vines. She admired them as she went by, as she always did, as she always would. It was quite lonely on her island, but she rather be alone than have the company of a man.

A spray of bright yellow birds exploded from the trees when she came slithering by. Sharp-tusked creatures of fur darted in and out of the bushes, poised and waiting to flee while they watched her. The boars always liked to test her. Perhaps that was what made them so delicious. The looks on their faces when she managed to snatch one and scarf them down was priceless.

There was rustling near the bay. Medusa pricked one of her pointed ears while her mane of venomous snakes hissed in alertness. She smacked the nose of one of them to quiet them down and then went after her prey.

  “Hello?” She called out in a purr. “Come out, come out wherever you are…”

Emerging from the lush underbrush, Medusa set her eyes on the small wooden boat bobbing slowly in the waves that splashed upon her shore. Even through the cracking of seawater and crackle of forest fronds behind her, she could hear small noises emitting from the vessel. A smirk came upon her face, flashing her fangs into the sun.

Medusa flicked her ears and slithered out onto the beach. A bright red crab saw her coming and darted into the splashing waves to hide. A mere crustacean was the least of her concern right now, though. She could eat later.

Right now, she had bigger prey to catch.

Nobody fled from the boat as she approached it, which she found odd. Usually the men ran towards her or at least away from her, none of them ever lied still like an animal in a trap, waiting for her to end their pathetic existence.

Well. At least it made her job easier. Rushing through the jungle wasn’t exactly her favorite pastime.

  “Here we go, ladies,” Medusa whispered to her snakes, earning a harmony of eager hisses.

Medusa sprang up to the boat, claws raised and brandished, fangs bared, wings flared out to their full size. Her snakes swelled up and hissed loudly, mouths loaded with potent venom. Her bright yellow eyes were flashing, ready to strike this man into stone, and--

--and she froze.

There was no man in this vessel.

It was a woman.

She was a mangy, bedraggled mortal, with matted brown hair, agonized amber eyes, and mud-slathered ashy skin. But upon closer inspection, Medusa realized that it wasn’t mud at all, it was blood. And the woman was absolutely dripping in it thanks to the giant gash across her belly, along with numerous other cuts from swords and holes from arrows. In her bony arms, she clutched a tiny bundle swathed in sheep’s wool to her heaving chest.

  “I apologize over intruding, fair lady,” Croaked the woman, her voice thick with her own blood. “You do have to understand my dilemma. I am afraid I cannot leave, though…there is not much time left for me anyway.” She coughed, and the wound across her abdomen strained so much that Medusa was surprised all her guts didn’t come bursting out. “I made it this far. Wrapping my wounds, washing them out with saltwater in a vain attempt to combat infection. But I am afraid my breast milk must taste like blood. And nothing will matter anyway. They treat us like SLAVES. Breeding cows owned by our husband. I had to kill him! I couldn’t let him arrange MY BABY--” A coughing fit consumed her, and blood gushed from her mouth as if her aorta had been severed. “I had to… I had to…”

Medusa was still. Not even her snakes were snapping or hissing, instead bobbing silently around her head. They, too, were stunned at the outpour of emotions spilling out at them.

The woman craned her head around slowly. When her body spasmed as if it had been shocked, Medusa knew the stone curse had taken hold. And yet, the mortal smiled.

  “You…” She rasped. The curse always started in the chest and spread like a wildfire throughout the rest of the body; her lungs were rapidly being devoured by stone. “You are no monster…”

Medusa reared back slightly. If this stranger willingly meeting her gaze wasn’t strange enough, then that certainly was. Medusa knew better than anything that she was a monster, it was what her mother taught her.

  “I didn’t expect the man-slayer to be so beautiful,” The woman went on. She pulled the wool-swaddled bundle from her chest and held it out as dark grey marched across her skin. “Well, Medusa, killer of men…now’s your chance to show the cosmos what you truly are.”

The woman’s entire body froze, locked in an eternal casing of stone. She wouldn’t be in pain any longer, for her gaping wounds had been filled in with granite. In her petrified grey hands, rested the bundle.

Medusa carefully peered over the wrapping of wool and to the tiny baby resting within it, undisturbed by the ill fate of its mother.

For a long moment, only the crashing of waves and distant sound of island fauna filled the beach. The crab from earlier came cautiously creeping out of the wet sand, but bolted the moment it saw Medusa move to scoop up the little mortal.

It had to be only a few months old, if mortals were anything like her and her sisters. She was now wishing she had studied humans as much as Euryale had. She had no idea if it was supposed to be this light or small or what gender it even was. What she did know, however, was that it was very, very white, as if it had never been in the sun before. She also noticed the tufts of ashy brown hair on its head and the constellation of freckles swirling across its chubby cheeks. Unfortunately, she was unable to see its eyes, as she had to whip her gaze away when its eyelids began to flutter.

Medusa stared intensely at a cluster of seaweed-tangled driftwood as the baby in her arms began to make little noises while it woke up. It shifted in its wool blankets, sending small tremors through Medusa’s arms, but then Medusa realized that was just from her own trembling.

What was she going to do with this thing? She couldn’t bring herself to gaze into its innocent eyes and infect its helpless body with cold stone. She couldn’t leave it to be eaten by the animals on her island, either. And she DEFINITELY couldn’t raise it herself, and yet…

Medusa held the baby to her chest and felt its soft cheek press against her skin. Its pasty flesh was warm against her own, and she couldn’t help but cuddle it closer. One of her snakes made a low hiss.

  “You will say nothing.” Medusa warned as she turned and went back into the forest.

Medusa began slithering through the dense brambles and interlocking thickets of lianas. The tangled trees seemed to be reaching for her and her mortal straggler with long trailing roots and branches like skeletal fingers snarled together overhead to create a canopy of sorts. Sunlight filtered in from above, casting pale yellow spots across the large boulders and ruined pillars dotting the foliage. They were all huge and just lied around like the remnants of an ancient landslide. A few packed together tightly against a tall fjord of earth, creating a rocky corridor of sorts. There was another path to get to the other side, beneath a log suspended in the air by two crags and through some weeds, but Medusa decided the crevice would be easier to traverse with the child she was holding.

Walking through the passageway felt like she was getting a hug from the Gaia herself. It was a slight squeeze to go through, she had to hunch her shoulders in to keep them from scraping against the walls, but it felt worth it for the sake of saving time.

Yellow and purple flowers were blooming from vines etched in the moss-matted bedrock on either side of her. Orange and green and amber were streaked through the rock walls, glowing beneath streams of water that glittered like melted pearls from a spring somewhere up above. Specks of sunlight bleeding in through the canopy above would hit the stone’s tears in just the right way to set them off in radians of iridescent and silver. The deep emerald moss was fluffy beneath Medusa’s fingers when she tentatively touched the patches. Ahead, she then saw braids of vine dangling down from a long, reaching branch that had itself draped over one of the boulders. When she pushed through the curtain, she was met with a small clearing full of scattered trees that broke down and folded into a field of rock crags that bordered a glistening river.

Medusa walked through the grass and down onto the shoreline. Most of the bay there were shallows that have leaked into the openings between stony ridges risen from the ground. She shivered as she waded through the water, feeling the cold jolt through her scales. She clambered up the first rock she could reach as fast as she could, doing her best to not splash the delicate cargo she was holding.

Medusa had to traverse the rock formations carefully. Usually she jetted across them, but now she had a fragile mortal baby in her arms. She didn’t want to accidentally trip and be sent sprawling onto the little one.

As she crossed over a fallen log that allowed access to the other side of the river that fed into the ocean and to the dense jungle bordering the shore, a dark green and yellow, blobby frog croaked from in a pool of bubbling mud, then bobbled at them with its big yellow eyes. Medusa’s mane of snakes hissed in a chorus and the frog nearly keeled over dead as it scrambled back into the depths of the mud. Medusa chuckled, then shifted the baby closer to her bosom when it squirmed.

  “I’m sorry, little one,” She said. “Hang on for a little longer. We aren’t very far.”

Through the vines and under the branches she went until Medusa broke into her gardens.

It was the greenest part of all of Sarpedon, bursting with flora and fauna alike. Pillars from fallen ancient ruins dotted the area, forming ledges and small places to hide when it would rain. One of the temples was just barely still intact, though overgrown with flowers and plants. Medusa always thought it was an eyesore in the midst of all her nature, but now that she was looking at it, she thought it would make a brilliant home for a child.

  “Urrg,” She shook her head wildly, causing her snakes to hiss in shock at being jostled. “Stupid.”

She set the child down on some flowers and began to pace throughout her gardens. She tried not to listen to the whimpers and hiccups up the baby, tried not to look over at it in fear of getting too attached to something she knew she could not keep, tried to stop herself from rushing back over and scooping it into her arms once again because she felt like it belonged there.

  “What was needed to summon her again?” Medusa muttered to herself. She looked at her snakes. “Palm trees, right?”

The snakes seemed just as clueless as she was.

  “It was palm trees. But hopefully palm leaves will do because I am not cutting down an entire tree for this.”

She did, however, end up hacking off a large piece of palm back on the beach, all for something she definitely did not care about or want to keep. She forced herself to stare at the fire as she burned the husk and fronds of a palm tree. When the flames grew high enough, she took a breath and spread her wings to the sky.

  “Leto, mighty Titanides, goddess of motherhood, bearer of Artemis and Apollo, lend me your aid. Receive my call, for I need you.”

For a moment, all was silent, and Medusa almost felt embarrassed for even trying such a measly summoning, and then the fire crackled and sparked, and a body formed out from the smoke.

Medusa had forgotten just how massive the Titans were. Leto was as tall as the trees, and as sturdily built as one, too, especially for someone who was known solely for giving birth for nine days straight.

Swathed in emerald green robes that were inlaid with silver and gold weaving patterns, Leto now stood before Medusa. Her wavy brown hair floated weightlessly around her head, as if she, too, had a living, writhing mane upon her scalp. Her eyes were a deep, piercing yellow-green color, seeming to drill into Medusa. Around her neck she wore the red-brown fur of a weasel as if it were a scarf and a sun and moon pendant, most likely in remembrance of her children. When she spoke, her voice was deeper than Medusa expected, but also sounded like molten honey that was slathering gold.

  “It has been a long time since I was called upon,” The Titan rumbled. The faint golden glow around her faded and her hair was released from whatever had been suspending it in the air, causing it to flow elegantly down her shoulders. She smiled faintly down at Medusa. “I certainly did not expect it to be from you.”

Medusa flicked her tail and gathered herself up to her full size, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to measure up to Leto’s height. “I have a problem.” She said, then turned to the baby lying a few feet away and picked it up. “This.”

  “Oh my,” Leto said, peering down at the child. She delicately scooped it up when Medusa held it out to her. “A strange situation you’ve gotten yourself into, indeed.”

  “It’s not mine,” Medusa said. “A woman washed ashore. She’s--she’s dead now, but she had a child with her. That child. I don’t know what to do with it.”

  “She.”

  “What?”

Leto looked up from having unraveled the baby’s blankets and smiled softly at Medusa. “It’s a girl.”

It took everything in Medusa to keep her tail from wagging like a damn hound. A girl! She was so happy it was a girl! She didn’t think she could handle a male.

Wait-- what was she saying? She couldn’t handle either male or female. She couldn’t keep such a thing!

Leto pushed aside one of the overlapping covers of fabric on her robes and held the baby to her breast. She gave a soft laugh when the infant seemed to latch onto the nipple instantly and began to suckle greedily.

  “What a hungry little beast you have here, Medusa,” She said.

  “I already said she’s not mine.”

Leto furrowed her eyebrows at her. “You aren’t going to keep her?”

Medusa actually laughed. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I would not joke in the name of a child, Medusa.” Leto said firmly. Medusa wouldn’t lie that she was slightly intimidated by how hard her voice had become.

  “No, I’m not going to keep her, Leto.”

  “But you want to?”

  “I do not! Why would I ever want to raise such a fiend?”

  “Because you’re lonely.”

Medusa was taken aback. She coiled her tail in close around her, glaring at the dirt as if it had wronged her for bringing the child to her shore and making her feel all these stupid, conflicting emotions.

  “I am not.” She growled.

  “You’re getting defensive,” Leto pointed out.

  “Because you’re bothering me!” Medusa blustered, flaring her wings up. She turned away sharply, whacking Leto’s ankle with her tail. “Go. Take the creature with you. I don’t want to see it.”

All was quiet for a moment, and Medusa actually got the sick sensation that Leto had listened to her, but then she heard the crunching of grass beneath bare feet and saw Leto circle around to be in front of her. The Titan kneeled on her knees before her, still holding the baby to her breast. Medusa couldn’t help but glance at it several times in what she could only describe as longing.

  “Medusa, how long has it been since you’ve interacted with another person?” Leto asked. “Not counting your sisters, of course.”

Medusa refused to look at her. “Why does it matter? I can’t keep--”

  “How long,” Leto repeated with the same firm voice from before, “has it been?”

  “I don’t know.” Medusa answered through her teeth. “Forever? It’s always been my sisters, Mother, and Father. No one else.” She clenched her claws until they drove into the tender green scales on her palms. “There can be--no one else.”

Leto frowned. “And why is that?”

  “You know why.” Medusa said bitterly. “Don’t play dumb, Leto. I know the Titans are smarter than that. It doesn’t take Athena to know why I can’t be around people.”

  “I’m afraid I do understand why.”

  “So why are you even asking me this?” Medusa looked up at her, yellow eyes stinging with unbidden tears. If she had known the meeting with the Titan would be the equivalent to physical and psychological torture, she wouldn’t have even bothered in the first place.

  “Because I wanted to prove my point.” Leto said calmly. “And I was right.”

  “How?”

  “You want someone.” Leto said as if it were perfectly obvious to everyone in the entire pantheon of gods. “You’re very lonely, Medusa. It doesn’t take Athena to figure that out, either.”

  “I can’t.” Medusa whispered hoarsely.

  “You can.”

  “I can’t!” Medusa flared her wings at Leto and brandished her claws, flashing her teeth in the sun right as it began to fall from the sky, her snakes a chorus of hisses and snaps. But Leto was unfazed by her outburst.

  “I will help you.” The Titan said patiently. She smiled down at the suckling baby in her arms. “After all, I don’t expect you to be able to feed her. And she still needs a name, you know. Did the mother tell you one?”

Medusa decided to ignore Leto. Perhaps that would finally end the wrenching anguish she was feeling.

  “I like Aretha.” Leto went on, pleasantly not taking the hint Medusa was trying to give to her.

Medusa scoffed. “Aretha? Really?”

  “I thought you didn’t care about the child.” Leto said, feigning her surprise. Medusa really wished she wouldn’t grin at her like she was.

  “Nemesis is going to come curse you into the body of a cow or something if you keep exuding your hubris onto me.” Medusa said.

  “Are you all full, Aretha?” Leto said to the baby, once again ignoring Medusa. She brushed the little girl’s face with a finger. “What pretty eyes you have.”

  “Stop that.”

  “You could strike an entire army dead with those eyes.” Leto continued. She smiled down at Medusa. “Just like your mother.”

Silence.

Medusa’s throat ached with pent up sobs. “Her mother is dead.” She growled.

  “You’re her mother now.”

  “I am not!”

Medusa whipped her head away quickly so Leto wouldn’t see the tears that came slipping free without her consent. She wiped them away harshly, accidentally cutting herself with her claws in the process, but she could hardly care. It could not measure up to the pain she was feeling from this awful interaction.

  “I never should have called upon you,” She hissed.

  “But you did.” Leto said, unfazed by the insult. “And now I am here and I am going to help you with this baby, Medusa. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

There was silence once again.

  “I’m a monster, not a mother.” Medusa said, her voice wavering treacherously.

  “If that were the case, then why is the baby still alive?”

  “What?”

  “If you truly were a monster, then you would have killed the baby on the spot. And not just by turning her to stone, you would have gutted her alive with your claws, ripped her tiny little head off, devoured her insides. That is what monsters do.” Leto’s stare seemed to pin Medusa to the ground. “And you, Medusa, are not a monster.”

Medusa swallowed thickly, trying to bury the emotions welling up inside of her like a volcano.

  “What if I’m not the mother she needs?” She whispered. She felt like she was drowning. “I don’t think I can do what is needed of me.”

  “Yes, you can. And you will. You’ve been so good with all of this so far. The only thing you can do is your best.”

  “And if that isn’t enough?”

Leto looked into her eyes, her own so soft and caring, so patient even in the face of Medusa’s pessimistic attitude. “Then you’ll learn.”

Leto extended a hand and thumbed away a few fresh tears running down Medusa’s cheek. She smiled warmly at her.

  “You’ll learn,” The Titan said again, this time softer.

Neither of them said anything after that for a long few minutes. Not until the baby began to coo softly, which made both of their gazes shift down to her. Leto pulled her hand away from Medusa’s face to brush the infant’s.

  “Theodora.”

  “What?” Leto looked back at Medusa.

  “That’s going to be her name.” Medusa said. “Theodora. Teddi for short. Not Aretha.”

Leto smiled. “I knew you would come around.” She said. “Would you like to hold her?”

Medusa internally cursed herself for nodding so eagerly. However, as she extended her hands out to take the baby from Leto, she jerked back sharply, as if she had touched fire.

  “I can’t look at her,” Medusa said. “I can’t look at my…”

Leto frowned, then looked down at the wriggling infant in her arms. A soft golden glow lit up in her eyes, and the baby’s did the same, causing her to coo at the sensation of godly powers now streaming through her veins. Leto then turned and gently pushed the little girl into Medusa’s arms.

  “Leto, didn’t you hear me--”

  “Look, Medusa.” Leto said. “Trust me. It will be okay.”

Medusa stared up at the Titan, then slowly brought her gaze down to the baby.

For the first time in her entire life, the flesh of a mortal did not harden to stone beneath her claws, and she was able to see the beautiful mossy green eyes her new daughter bore.

[flutteringphalanges]

                           Caught in a Riptide

Summary: After the infamous Count Dracula is discovered and taken into custody by the Jonathan Harker Foundation, former nun and now guardian to her young niece, Zoe, Agatha Van Helsing is tasked with keeping tabs on the vampire after a mishap leads to his release into modern day society. Can Agatha remain levelheaded, or will fate turn her onto a new path?

Pairing: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rated: M

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Hooray! Two story updates in one week! I guess this Spring Break is proving to be writing productive! Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! Feedback is greatly appreciated and fuels the writing mind! Thank you guys so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter! -Jen

                                            Chapter Eleven

Agatha wasn’t quite sure how long she stood in the doorway with her mouth ajar. A second perhaps? A few minutes? Hell, possibly a millennium? But the only comparison to this moment she could make was waking up from a dream and going straight into a nightmare. Her eyes wander around the room as she noted how every window in sight was plastered over with discarded newspapers and pieces of cardboard--some with scribbled drawings she could only attribute to being Zoe’s. The rat bastard had blocked the sunlight getting in. 

“Living room now!” She hissed, Dracula’s cheeky grin only causing the flames of fury to burn hotter within her. “Now!” 

Part of her felt as if she needed to grab him by the ear and drag him in there himself as the vampire purposely took his time to follow her out of Zoe’s earshot. Once they were alone, the former nun whipped around to face him. 

“Why the hell are you still here?!” She growled, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Not only are you not welcome, but you have overstayed at that!” Agatha motioned around her. “And you’ve desecrated my house!”

“First, I would like to say that I am rather disappointed in you.” Dracula smirked. “I had originally thought your intentions to be alone with me were for more...intimate reasons.” He didn’t even blink when Agatha slapped him hard across the face. “Clearly you should’ve had your breakfast before we had this talk. You’re simply...well, what’s the term the adolescence use nowadays?” The Count’s devilish grin only widened. “Hangery?” 

Agatha sucked in a sharp breath. “I...you…” Her fists clenched so tightly the circulation to her fingers was on the verge of being cut off. “If Zoe wasn’t in the other room, I would rip your stupid sun protection off my windows and watch you die a long, painful death. But I don’t feel like scarring a little girl!”

Dracula chuckled, his smile lopsided as he watched the woman fuming before his very eyes. He’d expected her to be upset, sure, but this...this was true gold. Agatha ground her teeth together, arms now folded over her chest as she continued to scowl darkly at him. 

“You do know if you kill me…” He paused. “And I know you very, very much want to. It would certainly be a breach of contract.” Dracula feigned a long exhale, looking towards the direction of the door. “Perhaps I’ll stay until nightfall. It isn’t as if I have much of a choice.” The Count shrugged, his false sense of apology quite evident to Agatha. “A true pity really. But it can’t be helped, now can it?” 

Over a hundred ways to slaughter Count Dracula began to manifest in Agatha’s mind. Yet he was right. Until nightfall, he couldn’t exactly leave without consequences no matter how much she’d like him to burn. Literally. Nostrils flared, her brows knitted together as she tried her best to ignore his obnoxious grin. 

“You may be forced to stay here.” She spat, not hiding the disgust in her tone. “But Zoe and I certainly don’t have to.” Agatha looked over her shoulder and called out towards the kitchen. “Zoe, go get dressed and put on your shoes, we’re leaving.” 

“Is Mr. Dracula coming too?” Zoe replied loudly, sounding hopeful.

“No.” Her aunt answered flatly, glaring at the Count. “Mr. Dracula is staying behind.” Still looking at Dracula incredulous, Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to go change now. Follow me, and you’ll regret it.” 

The vampire held up his hands. “Relax, Agatha. I assure you I can manage holding back my temptations to repeat last night’s...experience for another time. Feel free to go get dressed, I can bask in the memories…” He paused, his ever present smirk broadening. “For now.” 

Agatha said nothing as she shoved past the vampire, trying to block out his laughing as she stormed into her room. While her body craved a nice, hot shower, her mind convinced her the best option was just to throw on some clothes and leave with Zoe before she went completely berserk. Wearing an old, long sleeved shirt and some worn pants, she stepped out into the hallway to find her niece waiting there patiently. 

“You do realize you are wearing two different colored socks.” She noted, eyeing the little girl with a sigh. “And that shirt has a stain on it.” 

“So?” Zoe shrugged. “I like it that way.”

Agatha exhaled, shaking her head. “Nevermind. Let’s just go.” Taking Zoe by her hand, she walked briskly towards the front door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dracula standing back in the shadows. When he waved, she did not return the favor. “You better be gone when we return.” She growled, tugging on her niece’s hand. “C’mon, Zoe. We’re leaving.” 

“Where are we going?” The child asked, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the vampire. “Not somewhere boring, right?”

“To the park.” Agatha said, grabbing their windbreakers from the rack. “And then...maybe some ice cream, I don’t know. We’re just going.” 

“Hooray!” Zoe squealed, sounding far more excited about their sudden departure. “Goodbye, Mr. Dracula! See you soon!”

“Oh, I very much count on that, dear Zoe.” The vampire smiled. “Your aunt and I have some unfinished business.” 

When the little girl’s attention was preoccupied, Agatha flipped the Count off before opening the front door and slamming it behind them. Once they were outside, the former nun’s grip loosened around her niece’s hand. Zoe hummed to herself as Agatha fished around in her purse to retrieve her phone. Unlocking it, she scrolled down through her contacts before clicking on the one she desired. 

“Hello, Jack?” Agatha spoke, letting out a long breath when she heard the other end connect. “Can you meet me at Pannett Park?” She looked over her shoulder, holding the cell close to her ear. “It’s important.” 

                                                        XXX

Despite it being early in the morning, the park was decently packed by the time Agatha pulled up into the parking lot. She scanned the lot, looking for an empty parking space. Zoe had already unfastened her belt, against her aunt’s orders, and had taken to leaning over the side of the driver’s seat with the intention of helping out. 

“Zoe, sit back down.” Agatha instructed, trying to focus on the road and not her loose niece. “The car hasn’t stopped yet.” 

“I’m trying to help you.” The girl replied, frowning softly as she peered around. “What if we can never find a space?” She let out an exaggerated sigh and collapsed against her seat. “We’ve been driving for forever!” 

“Patience is a virtue.” But even Agatha’s tone was strained. “We’ll find one.” 

Zoe let out a huff and crossed her arms in annoyance. After circling the parking lot twice, Agatha finally managed to find a spot. It was right in the sun, of course, but it would work. Turning the car off, she barely had a moment to step out before her niece leaped from the back seat and out onto the grass.

“Zoe, stay where I can see you!” The former nun called out as the girl bounded towards the playground. “Don’t go too far!” 

But she was already out of earshot, her laughter becoming more distant the further she went. Shaking her head, Agatha walked over to an empty bench and sat down. Pulling out her phone once more, she unlocked the screen and located Jack’s number. 

“We made it. Good luck finding parking, the place is packed.” -Agatha

A few minutes passed by before her cell began to vibrate. 

“Sorry, couldn’t text and drive. But you’re right, you’d think there was some event going on. I ended up parking across the street. Where are you?” -Jack

“On a bench by…” Agatha paused her typing, glancing around for a landmark. Not too far off from where she sat was a large sign dictating the rules that all park pedestrians were instructed to follow. “...by a big brown sign closest to the swing set. Can’t miss it.” -Agatha

“Great, I’ll be right over then.” -Jack

Leaning back against the bench, Agatha stared out towards the playground. Zoe seemed to have found a group of children to play with. Her eyes followed them as they ran back and forth in what she assumed was a game of tag. She tried to suppress the thoughts of what occurred last night in her head. His face. His body. The way he made her feel. How she and Dracula had done deeds that would send Mother Superior to an early grave. A shiver ran down her spine at each thought. Memories that she felt conflicted about. The former nun was so focused on trying not to think that she failed to notice Jack taking a seat beside her. 

“Hey, you feeling okay?” 

Agatha jumped in surprise, turning her head so quickly to face him that she pulled a muscle in her neck. Wincing, she rubbed at the spot and let out a grunt. Just another thing to add on to the ever growing stack of problems she was facing. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” It was a lie and even she couldn’t hide it from her tone. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.” 

“Of course.” Jack smiled, his expression soft. “Gave me an excuse to get out of the house.” He inhaled, relaxing a little. “So what is so important that we needed to meet across town in a park to talk about?” 

Agatha averted her eyes, unable to meet his. “Something happened and I needed to talk to someone who I could trust.” She paused, her mouth suddenly becoming dry. “A secret rather...big.” 

“Oh?” Jack inquired, beginning to sound concern. “What kind of secret?” 

Agatha picked at one of her cuticles absentmindedly, a nervous habit she’d had since childhood. Her eyes focused on Zoe as the young girl when zipping down the long, curling slide on the playground. She knew Jack was staring at her intently, waiting to hear why exactly she had summoned him here of all place. And though, try as she might, she couldn’t yet muster up the courage to meet his gaze. Especially when it came to what was about to come next. 

“Dracula paid me an unexpected visit last night.” She said in a low, almost inaudible voice. “Or rather, showed up inside my house uninvited…by me at least.” 

“What?!” The alarm in the man’s tone was almost humorous. Certainly his next emotions would far surpass those when he learned more. “Are you okay? Is Zoe? Does Dr. Bloxham…” 

“We’re fine, and no…” Agatha answered, a small twinge of pain coming from the corner of her nail bed. “And that isn’t exactly why I called you here to meet me. Something else happened…” Drawing in a breath, she finally found it in her to turn and meet the young doctor’s eyes. “I had sex with Count Dracula.”

There was a long pause before Jack’s face contorted into an alarmed expression. “You’re joking.” But when Agatha failed to reply, his eyes grew wide. “You’re not joking?! Agatha, what...what were you thinking?!”

“Shh!” She hissed softly, glancing around her as if half expecting to see Bloxham pop out from between the bushes. “Keep your voice down. I said it was a secret for a reason!” 

“I can’t believe you would...did he force himself upon...what the hell were you thinking, Agatha?!” Jack stumbled, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Why…” 

“It was consensual.” It was no use trying to hide the embarrassment in her voice. “And I don’t know what I was thinking. One minute we were fighting and the next...and the next…” She shook her head, frowning deeply. “It was a mistake, okay? A dreadful, horrible mistake that I can’t take back.” 

The young doctor shook his head. “...Did he bite you or anything?” A look of horror crossed his features. “You aren’t going to become a vampire now, are you?” 

The former nun rolled her eyes. “Last time I checked, having sexual intercourse with a vampire doesn’t lead to one, well, becoming a vampire.” Sighing heavily, Agatha slumped against the seat. “What am I going to do, Jack?”

“You want my honest answer?” Her fellow colleague asked. 

Agatha nodded. “Yes!”

“Well, I have none.” Jack replied sheepishly. “I’m not sure what to tell you other than Bloxham can’t ever hear about this. If she knew...it wouldn’t be good.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You have no choice but to continue to work with him. Think you can act like it never happened?” 

“I'm quite certain he’ll likely make sure that I’ll never forget that it actually happened.” Agatha grumbled. “But maybe I can figure out a way to keep his hideous, fanged mouth shut.” She turned her attention to the playground, making sure that Zoe was still in sight. “She likes him, you know.” 

“Who?” Jack asked. “Bloxham?!” 

“No.” Agatha scoffed. “Zoe. She’s the reason he keeps getting into my bloody house! She’s befriended him. Or he’s using her...manipulating her...what difference does it make?” A small smile crept across her features. “She’s a Van Helsing. Being fearless in the face of the undead runs in her blood. Which, I suppose, has its advantages and disadvantages.” 

“Like inviting a vampire into your house.” Jack answered. 

“Exactly.” Agatha exhaled. “Like inviting a bloody vampire into my damn house.” 

“She means well.” Jack added, his attention now on Zoe as she proceeded to swing across the monkey bars. “She’s a good kid, even to those who don’t deserve her kindness. Despite everything she’s been through. I couldn’t do it.” 

“I know.” The former nun agreed. “That’s why I worry…” 

Before Jack had a chance to reply, Agatha’s phone began to ring. Frowning softly, she pulled it out and looked at the caller ID. Dr. Bloxham. Meeting Jack’s eyes, she unlocked the screen and answered. 

“Hello? Agatha Van Helsing speaking.” 

“Yes, good morning, Agatha.” Bloxham replied in a flat voice. “I hope I’m not pulling you away from anything important, but I need you to come to the Foundation at your earliest convenience. There is something that needs to be discussed and it cannot wait.” 

“What does she want?” Jack whispered softly. 

“I don’t know.” Agatha muttered, covering the speaker. “But it doesn’t sound good.” 

“Jack! Jack!”

Agatha and Jack both turned their heads to see Zoe hurrying over with a wide grin spread across her face. She immediately flung her arms around the young man, peering up at him with bright eyes. 

“Come push me on the swing?” She begged. “Please?!” 

“Let me watch her.” Jack offered, patting the young girl on the back. “I’ll take her back to my place and you can pick her up when you are done. Really, it’s no trouble.” 

“Agatha? Agatha, are you still there?” 

The former nun held her phone towards her ear. “Yes,” she replied. “I’m still here.” She glanced over at Jack who gave her an encouraging thumbs up. “And I’ll be there shortly.” Agatha ended the call and exhaled. “Thank you, Jack. You are truly a saint.”

“Quite a compliment coming from a nun.” The young doctor chuckled. 

“Former nun.” She corrected, smiling as she turned her attention to Zoe. “Monkey, I have to go into work for a little bit. You're going to hang out with Jack at his house. I want you to be on your best behavior, okay? Hopefully I won’t be gone for very long.”

“I promise, Aunt Aggie!” Zoe saluted before tugging on Jack’s arm. “Can we go swing now?” “I owe you big time.” Agatha chuckled, standing up from the bench. “I’ll keep you posted.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Jack assured her. “Just worry about yourself...or don’t stress...you get the idea.” 

She tried to force a smile as she leaned down and kissed the top of Zoe’s head. Giving one final wave, she turned on her heels and began making her way to the parking lot. Worrying. That was better said than done. A whirlwind of endless possibilities, mostly bad ones, of why Bloxham needed her now began to swirl in her mind. Swallowing hard, Agatha unlocked her car and got into the front seat. It was only the morning and today was already proving to be very, very long. 

                                                 XXX

Unlike the park, the parking lot at the Foundation was nearly empty. Agatha tried to focus on her breathing as she fished around to find her badge. Bloxham couldn’t possibly know about what happened between her and Dracula last night. Could she? Inhaling deeply, she made her way into the building that seemed far larger than usual. 

“Ah, Zoe, so glad you could make it on such short notice.”

Bloxham sounded surprisingly friendly as Agatha approached her boss, something that felt very unsettling. Feigning a smile, she nodded in agreement as the woman motioned for her to follow. Their heels clacked against the tiled floor as they made their way into Bloxham’s office. 

“I apologize for pulling you away from whatever it is that you were doing. But I wanted you to meet someone important.” The corners of Bloxham’s lips twitched into a grin that would curdle milk. “Someone I think who just might help us with dealing with Count Dracula.”

As she opened her office door, Agatha’s eyes fell upon a tall man. His blond hair, though thick, was greying at the sides and the look in his brown eyes was cold. When he became face to face with the former nun, he gave a small nod in greeting.

“Ms. Agatha Van Helsing.” He greeted, extending his hand. “It’s a true pleasure to finally meet you.” Bloxham joined his side and suddenly Agatha began to feel claustrophobic. “You might not know me by name, but my ancestors were responsible for founding this over a century ago.” A small smile crept across his features. “My name is Howard Murray, the true descendant of Mina Murray herself. And I would like to lend my hand in personally assisting you and the others with Count Dracula.” 

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Medusa’s Child (part one)

eyyyy, here’s the first part of Medusa being a mom!! sorry if it’s not very accurate to the myths, i am trying my best. feedback and comments are greatly appreciated! i hope you all enjoy!

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

She was first alerted of a presence by an uneven splashing against the nearby shore.

It was the early evening, and the sun was at its best point in the sky, raining down on Sarpedon in just the right way to make her scales light with painless flames. She stretched out on her branch, pressing her bare belly up to the warm rays. Her tail flicked lazily while her mane of snakes hissed and tugged in the direction of the noises. She swatted a clawed hand at them.

  “Let him come,” Medusa murmured in a husky, languid voice, not bothering to open her eyes. “You know he won’t stand a chance anyway.” She ran her black talons down her exposed breasts and stomach, chuckling deeply. “He may as well die with the image of a beautiful woman in his mind. We can give him that, at least.”

There were mixed reactions from her snakes, some spats of disapproval, some hisses of agreement, but they all coiled back down into quietness. Or, as quiet as a head full of serpents could be.

Compared to other creatures across the land, Medusa had a remarkably good childhood if she did say so herself. Her parents were the ferocious Ceto and Phorcys, ancient sea gods that kept the ocean seething with their monstrous children. 

Phorcys was a grey-haired, fish-tailed mountain of a man, with rough red, spiky crustacean skin and huge crab claws that were strong enough to snap off the head of any mortal man that approached his territory. He was faster than any sea creature and stronger than any current in the existing waters. He could create a tsunami big enough to drown Greece with one splash of his mighty tail.

Ceto was quite possibly more terrifying than her father, however. She was a fair maiden with shiny, unblemished skin she never covered up and long, wavy black hair that floated like Kraken tentacles in the water around her. Her eyes were green and sharp enough to cut through obsidian, and her voice was booming enough to crack the earth and drain the entire ocean. She was as venomous as her animal creations, but she taught Medusa discipline and respect at a very young age.

Together, the two of them brought forth a myriad of devilish children. Ekhidna, a dangerous she-dragon with the head and breasts of a beautiful woman and the body of a coiling serpent; Scylla, a giant crab that ate sailors; Ladon, a dragon with one hundred head; the Graiai, three grey hags that shared one tooth and one eye; and the Gorgons, a trio of sisters with the bodies of serpents and hair made of living, venomous snakes.

Medusa was a part of the final group. 

Medusa and her two sisters were born on a dark day, where the sky seethed with storm and the sea seemed to wrath against its gods. Through crashing waves and spitting sea foam, Ceto dragged her soaked, swollen body from the hissing water and into a cave where it was dry. The tide tried to catch her, nipping at her heels like desperate piranhas, but could not chase her all the way up the sand.

Within the cave, the pelting rain and howling gales were muffled by thick stone. Droplets of water dripped from stalactites that hung from the ceiling like dozens of monster fangs. Small tidepools were laid across the ground like traps, seemingly existing to trip Ceto and make her crash down onto her thick belly. But she managed to avoid them, hissing strings of curses to the starfish and crabs and tiny fish that thrived within the wet sinkholes before collapsing to the ground, powerful cramps rippling through her body.

There, Ceto gave birth in the eye of a raging hurricane, her monstrous children writhing out of her womb, clawing and scratching for the world outside of her body.

Stheno was first, born thrashing and hissing and brimming with rage the moment she came out. She was a thin little thing, but her blood red tail whipped around with enough power to crumble mountains. Her red mane of snakes sprung to life instantly, fangs flashing, hissing so loud they challenged the whirlwind outside the cave. The scales upon her head and face made it look like she was permanently stained in mortal blood, and the boar tusks curling out from her mouth looked wickedly sharp. Mere moments after being born, she had lunged at a tidepool and ripped apart a small crab with bronze claws, devouring it in just a few snaps of her powerful jaws.

Euryale came next, sliding out in a slick of fluids and screaming so loud she threatened to bring the whole cave down on top of them. Her white and yellow tail lashed as she cried, sending clumps of wet sand flinging through the air. The mane of snakes upon her skull, which had red snouts that looked like they had been dipped in blood, wailed with her, strange, raspy sounds that vibrated through the air like static electricity. There were small horn nubs protruding from her forehead, which had explained the pain when she was coming out. Stheno tackled her, whacking their tails together, and began wrestling with her.

Finally, out came Medusa, green scales shiny and new-looking. The first thing she remembered was seeing her eldest sister chewing on her second eldest sister’s tail. She had blinked her golden yellow eyes at them, flicking her own emerald green tail like she was expecting something to be attached to it. And then, she was lifted up and saw a beautiful woman gazing down at her. Her mane of snakes snapped at the long black hair cascading down onto her belly.

  “What peculiar little beast you all are,” She remembered her mother rumbling. Ceto scooped up Stheno and Euryale and held all three sisters in front of her. “And what slayers you will all be, indeed.”

And she was right.

Medusa’s childhood passed by in a blur of mortal blood and seawater. Her mother taught her how to strike fear into mortal men. Her father taught her how to swim and fly when all of their wings eventually grew in. And her sisters taught her to hide her prey or else it would get stolen.

She was raised in the darkest reaches of the ocean depths, where granite tunnels formed interlocking caves and caverns below the rolling waves. While most children grew up raising family goats and playing with dolls made of straw, Medusa and her sisters grew up taming sea monsters and playing hide-and-seek venomous lionfish. They created crags of coral along the seafloor with their eyes alone and swept through the ocean currents on scaled wings. When they would go up to the surface, they watched the mortals in their wooden vessels, laughing at the way they attempted to overpower the waves that rocked them mercilessly.

That was when they discovered their deadly eye power.

Medusa was a monstrous teenager, floating along the ocean’s surface, when Stheno presented the idea to her.

  “Swim into their nets and pretend to be dead,” Her older sister had said. Sunlight glinted off her blood red scales. When she smiled, her teeth were like a shark’s. “When they pull you up, give them a scare.”

Medusa gave a laugh. The only thing better than observing a mortal’s stupidity was causing the mortal’s stupidity by interacting with them. Of course, she agreed.

She swam into one of the large nets drifting beneath the boat, startling off a cloud of slippery grey-blue fish. She let herself get tangled up in its loops, tugging on the ropes enough to alert the sailors. After a few moments, the net began to rise, and she faintly heard the giggling of her sister’s vibrating through the water.

Cool sea air hit her bare skin; a series of gasps exploded throughout the vessel. The rough feeling of wood chafed against the scales on her exposed back as the net was dropped into the boat. She struggled to keep in the giggles and play dead as loud murmurs whisked around her. 

The men were wondering what she was, asking themselves how they managed to wrangle up a thing. One of them poked her tail with something pointy and she almost flinched, but managed to tighten her muscles and stay still.

And then, there was a hand grabbing her breast.

The man above her purred out something about her being beautiful and warm and the others should “give it a try.” 

Her eyes snapped open wide. She ogled the man above her in shock and fear and disgust; he was a scruffy and flabby creature with hungry eyes and crooked yellow teeth. His hand remained on her breast as they locked gazes, and then his face did something strange.

It twitched. And his eyes went weirdly blank. And he sucked in a harsh breath.

The man’s entire body jerked like his soul was trying to claw its way out of his back. His brown eyes bulge and roll wildly in their skull, and Medusa could see grey spreading rapidly over the eye balls.

Stone began to march across the man’s flesh like a swarm of fire ants. He tried to scratch it off, but his nails bounced right off. His movements quickly began to stiffen as whatever came over him took hold.

His chest froze solid first, then his hands and feet, his ears, his arms and legs, all the way to his throat. His eyes were no longer brown, rather blank grey. His greasy blonde hair did not sway in the cool breeze. His mouth was open, teeth blunted by rock, and twisted in an agonized expression. One hand was extended outward to his crewmates in a final gesture of desperation.

The man had been turned to stone.

The other mortals on the boat began to frenzy. Some ran away in fear, others brandished their weapons, but they, too, met the same ill fate of their crewmate. One stare and they hardened into a statue against their will.

Stheno and Euryale had been alerted by the noise and they flew up to the ship. Both of them looked shocked at what was going on.

  “What is happening?” Euryale asked. 

  “I-- I don’t know.” Medusa replied, slowly sitting up. She was absurdly confused at what was going on. “I turned them to stone.”

  “How?” Stheno demanded.

  “I looked at them.”

  “Hm.” Stheno lashed out at a fleeing young man and flared her giant red wings open, essentially trapping him. Medusa heard a short scream, and then silence. When her sister pulled back, the man was frozen in an encasing of stone.

The discovery of their power sparked great fear across the land, but amazement inside Medusa and her sisters. Stheno used it the most, killing more men than both Medusa and Euryale combined. She kept her favorite statues in her lair as trophies, adorning them with her jewels and other treasures. 

Euryale rarely ever killed, not because she didn’t like it, but because she never went out of her way to go around mortals. She rather watch them from afar, observing their strange hive mind mentality. 

Medusa was a mix between the two. Sometimes she would simply stay away, other times she liked to see how dumb mortal men were when she came across them.

When they eventually came of age, the three sisters ventured off from the darkness of their homeland sea. Medusa went to an island called Sarpedon, claiming it as her own domain. Mortal men saw it as an arena, however, and often sailed to her home to challenge her. It wasn’t long before her island was filled with the statues of foolish men, decorating her gardens with the trophies of her success.

And another was about to be added to the collection.

There were crashes through her jungle; the stupid man was romping through her home and disturbing her nap!

Sighing, Medusa uncoiled her elegantly long body from the tree branch and carefully climbed down the trunk. Her emerald green scales shimmered in the sunlight filtering down from the canopy of leaves up above, dewdrops from the condensation of her garden sliding like melted diamonds down her tail. She slithered through the weeds, passing by ruined pillars and petrified statues, all of which were swathed with moss and vines. She admired them as she went by, as she always did, as she always would. It was quite lonely on her island, but she rather be alone than have the company of a man.

Emerging from the lush underbrush, Medusa set her eyes on a fleeting boat in the crystal clear water. Strange, she thought. There was still a living person on the vessel. Did they think against their decision to challenge her? No, there were footsteps in the sand… Someone was here.

Medusa flicked her pointy ears and slithered out onto the beach. A bright red crab saw her coming and darted into the splashing waves to hide. A mere crustacean was the least of her concern right now, though. She could eat later.

There was blood in the sand. Small, red droplets clumping the white grains together. A trail led across the bay in spatters that looked like the man had been in a hurry, disappearing into the thriving overgrowth of Sarpedon.

Medusa turned and followed the trail. The man seemed rather smart; there were many hiding spots in the jungle, but she knew this island like the back of her hand. He would not stand a chance.

A spray of bright yellow birds exploded from the trees when she came slithering by. Long-limbed creatures of fur leapt from branch-to-branch, poised and waiting to flee while they watched her. The monkeys always liked to test her. Perhaps that was what made them so delicious. The looks on their faces when she managed to snatch one and scarf them down was priceless.

There was rustling to her left. Medusa pricked one of her pointed ears while her mane of venomous snakes hissed in alertness. She smacked the nose of one of them to quiet them down and then went after her prey.

  “Hello?” She called out in a purr. “Come out, come out wherever you are…”

There was no reply, though there had been before. That particular man had really thought he could swoon her. How could anyone fall for the grating voice of a male?

The rustling sounded again. Medusa whipped around, smacking a tree with her tail and sending a macaw flying off with an alarmed screech. 

  “You are a quick little rabbit, aren’t you?” She chuckled. Fine then. She’ll play with her prey before killing him.

Fleeting footsteps squelched through moist jungle mud. He was quick, but she was quicker. Legs were so hindering, while her tail could get her around with graceful ease. It also made a perfect entrapment tool. Nothing was better than constricting her victim and getting to look at them face-to-face while their life drained away from them.

A squeal caught Medusa’s attention. A smirk came to her lips, fangs flashing in the sun. Finally.

Peering through the leaves, Medusa could partially see the body of the man on the ground, sprawled between two trees. His right ankle was caught in some gnarled roots, trapping him.

It was perfect.

Medusa sprang out of underbrush, claws raised and brandished, fangs bared, wings flared out to their full size. Her snakes swelled up and hissed loudly, mouths loaded with potent venom. Her bright yellow eyes were flashing, ready to strike this man into stone, and--

And she froze.

This wasn’t a man.

It was a child.

[cloudywriter]

the best things are unexpected - 2

~~~

A/N: i realize i wrote part 1 over a year ago and said i would happily write a part 2. to be fair, i never said when i would get around to it... anyway, enjoy this little follow up! maybe i’ll write a few more. 

Part 1

~~~

Will was pacing back and forth outside of the doors of the infirmary. 

He knew Tessa didn’t like being in the infirmary but in the frenzy of everything it was the place his instincts took him. Charlotte was sitting near him, perched in a wooden chair in the hallway. 

“Sit down Will, wearing a hole in the carpet won’t do any good,” Charlotte insisted. Will took a deep breath. “We’ve called the Silent Brothers, she will be alright,” Charlotte put a hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort him but he only stared off into space, deep in thought. Charlotte sighed. 

The doors of the infirmary opened with a creak, Brother Enoch floated into the hallway soundlessly. Both Will and Charlotte stared at him anticipating his hollow voice to fill their minds any second. She is awake, you may see her now. 

The feeling of relief washed over Will as he dashed to Tessa’s side. He took her hand into his, kissed it, and looked up at her. Will was surprised to find Tessa looked, almost, pleased? She squeezed Will’s hand and smiled. “Is everything alright?” He asked her, still gripping her hand. “Yes, everything is just fine,” Tessa assured her husband. Will pressed his lips together and stroked her thumb softly. “I was so worried Tess… What happened?” 

“I’m just a little ill Will, it’ll be alright.” Tessa said, attempting to ease the man that hovered over her.

Of course she wanted to tell him about the baby so badly. However, she wanted it to feel like the right time, to be special and meaningful, not in a bare, sterile space amongst a sea of cots. Tessa decided she would wait until she felt that special moment click into place. 

She wasn’t worried whether Will would be upset or not. She knew better than that. He’d be over the moon and would probably race through the streets of London telling every passerby that he was going to be a father. Tessa saw the way he admired everyone else’s children, she knew he longed for a little pack of Herondales wandering around. It was hard to hold in how ecstatic she was that she could actually give him that. 

“Why are you smiling?” Will inquired, pulling a chair up to sit beside her bed. Tessa hadn’t realized that her lips had turned upwards as she let her mind wonder. She pulled Will down into the bed with her and snuggled her face into the crook of his neck, but didn’t answer the question that hung in the air. Instead, Tessa shut her eyes and let sleep engulf her. 

***

Will laid next to Tessa awhile. He loved the feeling of her being cuddled up next to him, it conveyed a sense of completeness, but he had to get up and make sure everyone else was alright. He walked out of the infirmary and down the hall when a little patter of feet came up from him. 

A small figure jumped up on him, “Uncle Will!” A young Charles Fairchild, Charlotte and Henry’s son, was hanging onto Will’s back. Will laughed and continued down the hall giving Charles a piggy back ride. “Where is everyone?” Will asked the little boy who shrugged, “the library, maybe.” Will nodded and headed into the library. 

Indeed, the group was gathered around the library’s fireplace. Will deposited Charles onto the couch and sat down next to him. “Is Tessa alright?” Henry asked Will. Will nodded, “she claims she was just ill.” Charlotte shook her head, “I shouldn’t have let her go.” Henry patted his wife’s shoulder, “it’s not your fault Lottie, she is alright.” 

***

Sophie and Tessa were sitting together sipping tea in Tessa and Will’s bedroom after Tessa had left the infirmary. 

“So?” Sophie asked Tessa, raising an eyebrow. 

Tessa rolled her eyes and put down her tea. “Yes Sophie, you were right,” she finally admitted. Sophie clapped her hands together rapidly and squealed, “oh, Tessa I am so happy for you! What did Will say?” 

“I haven’t told him yet,” Tessa confessed. “Why not? He will be elated.” Tessa shrugged, “I just want it to be the right time I suppose.” 

“Well that right time better be soon or Will will be upset if he finds out you didn’t tell him straight away,” Sophie stated drinking her tea. Tessa nodded in agreement.

“It’ll be soon, I promise.” 

***

Tessa wandered through the institute corridors with a silk, white dressing gown wrapped tightly around her. She had been walking aimlessly through the halls seeking her husband. She checked his normal haunts first - the library, Jem’s old bedroom, and the attic - but to no avail. Finally, she stood outside the tall double doors that would open into the training room, if Will wasn’t here she would have to go searching through the taverns of London. 

Tessa pressed her hand against the cool, splintering wood and pushed. The door creaked ajar and to her relief Will was positioned in the middle of the room. The room was dim but beams of moonlight came in through the windows illuminating him. He stood shirtless and glimmering with sweat, gripping a throwing knife in his calloused hand. Will turned to face Tessa and pushed his disheveled dark hair away from his face. 

“You should be resting.” Will advised. Tessa rolled her eyes. “I feel rested, William,” she reassured him. Will smirked at the sound of his full name, Tessa enjoyed using it when they disagreed. Tessa noted that something was clearly on Will’s mind. She knew him well, if Will was up in the training room at odd hours of the night that meant he was thinking long and hard about something. 

“What’s on your mind?” Tessa inquired. Will let out a low sigh and put the throwing knife back on the table. “I had a dream,” he confessed, meeting her gaze with his own. 

“About?” Tessa pressed. Will hesitated for a moment, but he knew he was talking to Tessa, he could tell her anything and he trusted her with everything. Plus, if he refused to answer her curiosity would take over and she would badger him until he broke. 

“It had my father in it. I was a young boy in the dream and trying to learn how to wield a seraph blade and failing miserably. Then my father walked in, dressed in black gear. He showed me the correct way to hold the blade, how to position my feet into the proper stance. It was a sweet father son moment I suppose. Henry, actually, was the one who originally instructed Jem and I. He was always nervous when we held blades and ducked when we threw knives.” Will laughed a little to himself, reminiscing fondly. 

“Eventually they hired an instructor who took over. When I first arrived at the institute and began my training I often fantasized that my father would magically appear, rejoin the shadowhunters, and teach me everything himself. Even though I knew I was cursed and he wouldn't be safe anywhere near me, I allowed myself those guilty thoughts every once in a while.”

Tessa listened to Will’s confession intently. Will’s face was set and filled with emotion. He could remember his training with Henry and Jem easily, but recalled his father and his childhood before declaring himself a shadowhunter with some hesitation and tension.

“But when I was a young boy and had those guilt driven thoughts, I promised myself that one day I would break the curse and train my son or daughter like I imagined my father training me-.” Will quickly shut his mouth and drew in a sharp breath. He realized what he had let flow out of my mouth too late. 

“I’m sorry, Tess. I, in no way, mean to make you feel responsible for the possibility of that not happening, I am perfectly content with it just being us until my life is no more.” Will tried his best to recover and reassure her. He knew it was a sensitive topic. Tessa had dreamed of kids, as had Will, and it came into question many times whether she could ever fulfill their dream and so far it had not been so. 

Tessa let out an airy laugh, “I don’t feel responsible, Will.” Will gave her a small smile and a nod, “good,” he said. Then and there Tessa decided it was as good a time as any. 

“I don’t feel responsible for Will because you’ll get that chance to teach your child as you wished your father had taught you,” Tessa carried on. Will looked up at her and pressed his lips together into a line. “Don’t worry about it, my love. I have you and that’s enough for me.” Tessa took a deep breath, Will had yet to catch on and she wasn’t sure of the best way to deliver the news. 

Tessa reached out to Will like a moth to flame in the dim light and intertwined her fingers with his own. She leaned closer to him until the tip of his nose was only a couple inches from her forehead. Will grinned and pulled Tessa completely into him, wrapping his arms around her small frame and pressing their bodies together. Tessa stayed quiet a moment and absorbed Will’s embrace.

“You have more than just me now,” Tessa whispered. 

Will pulled away the slightest amount, enough to tilt Tessa’s face up towards his. His facial expression changed as he processed what she meant by having more now. Will’s eyes searched Tessa’s face, “you’re-?” Will didn’t even manage to finish his question before Tessa’s eyes welled with tears and she nodded rapidly.

“I’m pregnant.” 

Will’s face shifted, becoming riddled with a sea of emotions, he gawked at Tessa as if she was the most glorious thing on earth. As if she had changed into an angel and beat Mortmain once more single-handedly before his eyes. Will tugged Tessa back into his arms and held onto her like she was the only thing keeping him alive. 

“Oh Tessa, my Tessa, Tessa, Tessa, Tessa,” he breathed. 

Will felt like he was floating a million miles above the world, frolicking among the clouds. 

[lucacangettathisass]

how the light gets in (ch.7)

SUMMARY: After your home is ransacked by a group of strange men, you and your cousin are taken in by a group of outlaws. And that’s when the trouble really starts.

PAIRINGS: John Marston x Fem!Reader, Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

CHAPTER ONE, CHAPTER TWO, CHAPTER THREE, CHAPTER FOUR, CHAPTER FIVE, CHAPTER SIX

TAGGING: @mountainhymn if you would like to be added to the tag list lmk!

NOTES: aayyyeee another update! man this leave is doing wonders for this fic lmao. slight tw for low self esteem, it’s only one incident bust just to be sure! as always please Reblog and be sure to send me any comments and questions you may have! have a nice day!

There was fire everywhere.

No matter where you looked you were met with flames so hot that you felt all the moisture in your mouth dry up with a single hacking breath, and the metal of your locket melting into your skin, becoming a part of your flesh.

You tried to run, but the flames were everywhere, obscuring your vision so badly you couldn’t even tell where you were. You brought your hands to your eyes, wiping away the tears, trying to find some way to see clearly. When you opened your eyes, you could just make out a silhouette among the flames, standing completely still.

Elated at seeing someone else, and terrified for their safety, you rushed to them. You couldn’t remember ever being able to run that fast, it felt like you were flying.

“You need to get out!” You somehow managed to force the words out of your smoke clogged throat, if it was only just a strangled sounding cry, sounding like a particularly sick cat. “You-”

The silhouette turned, and you froze in place.

Standing before you amidst the flames, was Jake.

His hair seemed lighter in the light of the fire. His eyes were empty, containing only reflections of the flames surrounding you both.

“JAKE!”

You tried desperately to run to him, but with each breath he seemed to be getting further and further away. You helplessly held out your hands, hoping that if you stretched hard enough, you would be able to grab some part of him.

Then, all at once, you were in front of him.

The flames still raged, but you could no longer feel the heat.

Head spinning and stomaching flipping, you gripped Jake’s shirt, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Jake! Where’s Sadie? We need-” You stopped mid sentence when you a drop of blood fell on your cheek.

You watched in horror as blood began to flow out of Jake’s mouth, like a waterfall. Holes appeared in his forehead and stomach, dark and gnarled around the edges and spilling just as much blood.

Within seconds you were knee deep in Jake’s blood.

You screamed, clawing at Jake’s shirt, trying to get a grip so that you might climb onto him and he would put his arms around you, like when you were a child.

But he remained still, and when you looked into his eyes, you saw your tear streaked face, mouth open to let out your horrified screams.

-

You woke with a start, heart pounding.

You whipped your head around and held your breath, expecting to see flames.

But there weren’t any.

Everything was fine and normal, because it had all been a horrible nightmare, and now you were awake and back in Colter.

“You ok?”

With a slight jump, you turned to see Sadie looking at you with worry. You glanced around and saw the other women had more or less the same expression.

Face flushing, you nodded quickly. “Of course.” Your voice sounded strangled, like in your nightmare, and you coughed to try and clear your throat.

As your heart slowed and the biting cold chased away the dream memories of the searing flames, you saw from the corner of your eye Sadie shifting closer to you. “What happened?” She asked, and you knew it would be pointless to pretend you were ok.

“I just...I had a bad dream.” You instinctively moved closer to Sadie’s side, leaning against her as she puts an arm around you. “I’ll be fine.”

For a while the two of you sit together in silence. You thought back to your childhood, where most days you would run into Sadie’s arms, sobbing over how one of the local children had tormented you. It was apparently a favoured hobby of theirs. In this moment, you felt the same kind of helplessness and despair that you had felt all those years ago. You thought you had grown out of it, but clearly not.

You brought your fingers to your locket, and wished that your mother was there to give some kind of guidance and comfort. Of course you knew that was pointless, what physical comfort could the dead provide after all?

You were pulled out of your melancholy by the arrival of food, brought in by Mr Matthews, Mr Pearson and, to your surprise, Mr Escuella.

While the older men went to the other women, Mr Esceulla approached you and Sadie, bowls of stew in each hand. “Hope you haven’t gotten sick of venison yet.”

You sat up straight, quickly smiling as you took both bowls, handing one to Sadie. “Of course not.” You assured him. “Thank you Mr Escuella.”

You expected him to leave with Mr Matthews and Mr Pearson, but he sat in front of the fire instead. Deciding that it wasn’t your place to question his whims, you began to eat, all too aware of the cold stare Sadie was sending Mr Escuella.

Now that you were able to get a closer look at him, you found Mr Escuella to be good looking. He kept his hair in a ponytail, which was something you were unused to seeing on men, but it suited him rather well. His finely trimmed facial hair indicated a sense of pride in his appearance and that he took care of himself. This was something you were used to seeing, but only in polite society, and it had never before occurred to you that outlaws and the like could be as well groomed as that crowd, but this whole experience was doing a lot to alter your previous world views.

“You settling in ok?”

His question brought you back to earth, and you nodded, still smiling. “Yes, everyone has been very kind and accommodating. Thank you.”

Mr Escuella snorted. “Not everyone.”

You furrowed your brow. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“I was talking about Micah.” The tone Mr Escuella used indicated that while they were in the same gang, there didn’t appear to be any kind of friendship between Mr Escuella and Mr Bell. Of course, the interaction they had while you were checking up on Mr Marston was a decent indicator of that too. “Listen, like I said, he’s a jackass. If he gives you any trouble tell one of us ok? Most of us don’t like him so we won’t mind shoving a boot up his ass.”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. The other women, mainly Miss Jones, had also told you to confide in them should the men prove annoying, and you of course knew that Sadie would be more than willing to lend an ear (and no doubt fist), but to hear one of the men, especially one that appeared to be as well respected and esteemed as Mr Escuella, say such a thing took you aback.

“It’s really fine Mr Escuella.” You assured him. “I didn’t take any offence to what he said.” In truth, you still didn’t know what he had meant. Sadie apparently did, but she still didn’t explain it to you, and you thought better of asking, lest it upset her.

“Still, it would be nice to have an excuse to knock him on his ass.” Mr Escuella pulled out a cigarette case, a rather fine looking one, and opened it, pulling one out. “You want one?” He extended the case to you.

“Oh no, I don’t smoke.” You smiled, feeling yourself warm at Mr Escuella’s friendliness. “But thank you.”

Mr Escuella nodded. “What about you?” His gaze shifted to Sadie.

She remained silent, only eating and glowering at Mr Escuella.

“Alright.” Apparently unfazed, Mr Escuella returned the cigarette case to his pocket, and pulled out a match. He struck it against the heel of his boot and lit his cigarette, tossing it into the fire.

The flames stuttered a little, and you flinched.

If Mr Escuella noticed, he didn’t react. “You did a good job with John.” He took a puff on his cigarette. “The stitches look real clean.”

A flush came to your cheeks, and your smile grew. “That’s very kind of you to say Mr Escuella.”

“Where did you learn to do that?” He looked you up and down. “You don’t seem like the type to get into scrapes with wild animals.”

“No, but an old friend of mine is.” You laughed lightly. “He loves to hunt, and has more boldness than sense, which isn’t a good combination. He would get wounded so often that learning how to tend to those kinds of injuries properly became something of a necessity.”

Mr Escuella chuckled, the sound coming from deep in his chest, and you bloomed with pride knowing that you did that. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” He took another drag. “Where’s he?”

“Russia.”

Mr Escuella raised a brow. “That’s pretty far.”

“His parents wanted him to return home.” You explained. “They felt he had spent enough time here.”

A pensive look came over Mr Escuella’s face. “Yeah. It can be hard being away from family.”

You remembered what the other women had told you about Mr Escuella, how he had more or less been forced into exile for rebelling against the government, leaving his family behind. He hadn’t seen them in years, and their fates were a mystery to him, just as his was to them. That was a despair that you knew was heavier than most. You wanted to say something, maybe even touch his arm or shoulder, but there was too much space between the two of you, both physically and in the sense of status, for you to properly do so. And of course Sadie.

“So what else did you boys find at that O’Driscoll camp, aside from the one we got in the barn?”

Everyone turned to Miss Jones, who was looking eagerly at Mr Escuella.

“Explosives and plans for what was supposed to be their next big robbery.” Mr Escuella sounded rather smug, and you didn’t blame him. You imagined it would’ve been quite the feat. “We must’ve killed a couple dozen of them, but it looks like it’s going to be worth it, because now we’re the ones who’re gonna be robbing Leviticus Cornwall.”

“Mr Cornwall?” You raised your eyebrows and you could almost feel your ears physically perk up at the name. “You’re going to rob Mr Cornwall?”

“Well not him directly, just one of his trains.” Mr Escuella took a drag of his cigarette, regarding you with a curious gaze. “Sounds like you know him.”

“Oh, well, not really.” You felt your face flush again, but this time it was embarrassment rather than happiness. “I only met him once a few years ago, but he left a rather distinct impression. I’ve seen him a small handful of times since, but we never spoke for very long.”

Mr Escuella seemed pensive again as he nodded. “Well, I better get back to the rest of the guys.” He rose to his feet, taking one last puff of his cigarette before it too was tossed into the fire, adding a slight tobacco scent to the air. He turned to you. “Like I said, if Micah gives you any trouble, just get one of us and we’ll take care of it.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary Mr Escuella, but thank you all the same.”

He nodded, his expression clearly showing that he didn’t believe that all, and left the cabin.

“Looks like Javier’s got his eye on you.” Miss Gaskill said teasingly.

You stared at her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous! I’m sure he was just being kind.”

“Oh yeah, Javier’s real good at being kind, especially to women.” Miss Jackson added, before bursting into giggles along with Miss Gaskill.

“Leave it alone you two.” Miss Roberts interjected, although she too seemed rather amused. “You’re gonna scare her.”

“If he tries anything he’ll be the one that’s scared.” Sadie said gruffly, which only made Miss Gaskill and Miss Jackson laugh harder.

“Oh Javier’s harmless, really.” Miss Roberts said. “I mean, he likes women well enough, but he’s respectful too.”

“He’d better be.” Sadie glowered at the fire.

“Sadie please, he really was just being friendly.” You said, in an attempt to calm her. Really, you did find the idea of Mr Escuella finding you attractive to be not just laughable, but utterly impossible.

Since when did good looking, well groomed men like him show any interest in ugly girls like you?

-

You were in the middle of hearing Miss Roberts regale the story of Jack’s first steps, which was funny as it was adorable, when you all received another visitor.

At first you didn’t look up, as you were too wrapped up in the story to really care about anything else, until you heard your name being called. When you did look up, you saw that Mr Escuella had returned, and everyone was looking at you.

Immediately you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You had no idea what was going one, but you doubted that it was good. “Is everything alright Mr Escuella?” You asked, trying to remain calm to hide how scared you really were.

“Dutch and Hosea want to talk with you.” He said.

You felt your throat and lungs constrict like in your dream as every worst possible scenario ran through your mind.

“What do they want with her?” Sadie was on her feet and wasted no time in getting to your side, glaring fiercely at Mr Escuella. “She hasn’t done anything!”

“It’s nothing bad.” Mr Escuella said reassuringly, no doubt seeing how badly things could go if he wasn’t careful. “They just want to talk. That’s all.”

Swallowing thickly, you slowly rose to your feet. “A-Alright.”

“I’m coming with her.” Sadie said firmly, still shooting daggers.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Mr Escuella sounded hesitant, and you didn’t blame him, with the way Sadie was looking at him. “Look, she’s going to be fine. Nothing will happen to her, you have my word.”

“Why should the word of a criminal matter to me?” Sadie hissed.

The atmosphere became tense, and you felt your heart pound against your rib cage.

“She won’t be going far.” Mr Escuella said, calm yet firm. “Just a few yards, if that. If anything happens to her, you can do what you like to me.”

Sadie continued to glare.

“She’ll be fine Mrs Adler.” Miss Grimshaw spoke up, clearly seeing that this wasn’t going to go anywhere without outside interference. “Just let her go. She’ll be fine.”

Sadie clenched her jaw, and for a moment you wondered if she was going to argue. But she didn’t.

Tentatively, you approached Mr Escuella. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sadie try to reach for you, but Miss Roberts grabbed her wrist just in time. You tried to remain calm, despite feeling distinctly like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf.

Mr Escuella held the door open for you, and when you were both out in the cold you let him lead you to Mr Matthews and Mr Van Der Linde.

“You’re really not in any trouble, I promise.” He said.

You nodded. “I’m sorry about Sadie.”

To your immense surprise, Mr Escuella chuckled. “Ah, don’t worry about it.” He said, and he sounded very genuine. “Listen, I get where she’s coming from. If I was in her place, I wouldn’t want you out of my sight either.”

An immense wave of relief washed over you, and you were even able to smile. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

Mr Escuella smiled. “Don’t worry about it kid.” His voice was kind, almost gentle, and you felt yourself becoming more and more endeared to him.

Just as he said, the house where Mr Matthews and Mr Van Der Linde had moved into wasn’t that far, making Sadie’s concern seem like a major overreaction. And just like before, Mr Escuella held the door open for you.

“Thank you Mr Escuella.”

You stepped inside, and was greeted by a burst of heat. For a moment, you held your breath.

“Here she is Dutch, Hosea.”

The two men looked up, and you saw that they were sitting in front of a contained fireplace, and you were able to quell your fears.

Mr Matthews smiled kindly at you. “Are you cold? You can come closer to the fire if you like.”

You eyed the dancing flames, feeling your heart rate spike. “I’m fine Mr Matthews.”

“Well if you change your mind, just take a seat.” Mr Matthews gestured to an empty chair off in a corner, beside a doorway, where Mr Morgan suddenly appeared.

“Oh, Mr Morgan!” You didn’t know he had taken up residence in the same house as Mr Matthews and Mr Van Der Linde, and seeing him made your face flush from surprise. “How are you?”

“Fine.” He was regarding you curiously. “So, I hear you know Leviticus Cornwall.”

For a moment, you were so wrapped up in your surprise, that you didn’t realize what he had said. “Oh well, I-I wouldn’t say that I know him.” You looked back over at Mr Matthews and Mr Van Der Linde. “Is that what this is about?”

“Yes.” Mr Van Der Linde’s eyes roamed over you, and he had the same look of curiosity as Mr Morgan. “Javier told us you met him once, and that he made quite the impression.”

“I-Well yes, that is true.” You kept your eyes on Mr Van Der Linde, although you couldn’t ignore Mr Morgan’s gaze, or the heat that rose up your neck because of it.

“Now see, that is what interested me.” Mr Van Der Linde smiled in a way that you couldn’t quite describe. “How did that happen?”

You hesitated. “Well, it’s a bit of a long story.”

“We ain’t goin anywhere.” Mr Morgan was leaning against the doorframe, the collar of his heavy blue coat partially obscuring his face, and making his already striking eyes even more disarming. “So go on.”

“Don’t rush her Arthur.” Mr Matthews gently scolded. “I’m very sorry about him, he forgets how to behave sometimes.”

“Th-there’s no need for apologies Mr Matthews.” You were only just able to tear your gaze away from Mr Morgan to look at Matthews when you spoke, but you still felt his eyes on you.

The feeling of being a rabbit in a wolf’s mouth had returned, but it was...different, somehow. Tinged with something you couldn’t name.

“Well, if you truly wish to know…” You trailed off, looking from Mr Matthews to Mr Van Der Linde and back again.

“We most certainly do.” Mr Van Der Linde replied, looking very eager.

You sighed. You supposed that they were all going to find out eventually, might as well make it now.

[storytimefromthecreed]

Altair’s Happy Ending

"There's something wrong." Arno frowned, setting down the cook book Elise had gifted him. "He hasn't been to Mosque since..." He thought hard, but couldn't think of the last time Altair had gone to prayer. "I'm concerned."

"We all are." Connor set down his cup, swirling the leaves inside and watching the shapes they made. Malik made the best tea in the house, and it was a special time where he allowed the others to join him. The time was spent with them all silently absorbed in their various hobbies enjoying their time and tea together, but today was different. Altair's unusual behavior had caught the eyes on his friends, and they were worried.

"I watched him training in the garden the other day," Jacob munched on his biscuit, "he couldn't get a set correct, and instead of continuing, he just gave up. I've," He sighed deeply, clutched the cup with both hands, hoping the warmth would make it's way inside. "He's not himself."

"Is he sick?" Concern colored Kassandra’s features.

“Not physically.” Connor said thoughtfully, sipping from his cup. “I do not doubt this is an enteral event.”

"Does he have anything he likes to do to relax?" Elise looked around the room. "Maybe he's just stressed."

"I've seen stress work it's way on men before, but not like this, luv." Edward shook his head, and, hesitant to speak his next words, spoke slowly. "But the heart, that's a beast whose strength is unmatched."

"The heart? Has something befell Maria?"

"No Kassandra, but Edward isn't wrong." Malik spoke from the head of the table. Having been silent the main of the conversation, his presence had been forgotten. With all heads turned to him, Malik stirred his tea and sipped slowly. Once satisfied, he opened his eyes. They were filled with sadness. "It's the time of year for it." The Elder explained, "Back home, this time of year would bring festivities. People would gather together under the starry skies telling stories, laughing, and generally enjoying each other's presence."

"Sort of like how we have our tea time." Elise smiled, and Malik returned the gesture. She was one of the few people he didn't glare at.

"Exactly! But imagine if all the Assassins and all the Templar joined together for a week of celebration that ended with a hearty meal, lots of wine, dancing, stories, and laughter."

“That sounds like a wonderful dream.” Arno said, leaning in closely. The rest of the room followed suit, and Malik knew he had hooked his audience. 

“Masyaf has, had, a festival every fall. At the end of the harvest, people from all across the land would gather and live. These were family and friends that hadn’t been seen the rest of the year, travelling was quite different in those days, so this was a speical event for everyone. Everyone. In their own ways.” The Assassins became whisked away in Malik's tale.

The sun beat down on the golden sands and heat the air until it was thick and humid, but the night calmed it, allowing a great number of them to remove their hoods and breathe deep. The smell of burning wood, cooked meat, and spices filled the air accompanied by cracking flames, laughter, and hushed conversation. Malik watched all this with a frown, his brother Kadar having dragged him away from the cooking women to join the older boys on the far castle wall. Away from the heat and light provided by the fire, young Malik shivered. Here there was worn stone wall with vines that grew up and over it. Behind this wall was a bigger, re-enforced one, but the Assassins kept this one for training. The children, however, used it for a game.

“Come on, Kadar.” Malik continued, his brother having ignored him the first several times. “We’re going to get in trouble.”

“Then go back, Malik.” Kadar pulled on one of the vines, testing it’s strength before half heaving himself up. Having not the ability to do so, he just hung against the vine, feet firmly planted on the wall, forming a weak triangle. 

Malik couldn’t do that. He’d never left Kadar and his troublesome friends before, and he wasn’t going to start today. Besides, if he left now, they would be wary of inviting him to play next time, and he couldn’t stand the names they would call him. Rama stuck his tongue out, and Bumi laughed at this.

“Leave him be, Kadar.” Another voice said. Malik’s eyes scanned the wall but could find no one else besides them. “Malik just isn’t cut out to play with us. Let him run back to the mothers with his tail tucked between his legs.” The voice was coming from on top of the wall, so Malik’s eyes searched upwards until they made contact with the arrogant gaze of Altair. His golden eyes pierced Malik’s. 

“You don’t even know what that means, Altair.” Malik countered. 

“Do too!” Altair growled.

“Prove it!” 

This made the boy pause. His friends below waited for a response. When none came, Altair smirked and said, “I don’t need to. Look what I can do!” The boy did a handstand on the wall, wobbling back and forth on each hand. 

The gasps of amazement from his group only egged Altair farther. He switched hands and again there was the sound of amazement. All this Malik watched from afar, and while Kadar and his friends were worshipping the ground the young boy stood on, Malik noticed another thing. 

“I don’t think you should be doing that.” Young Malik’s voice shook slightly. Not wanting to sound scared but actually being so, he knew not what else to say. 

“You can’t tell me what to do.” Altair did the switch again, and now the boys began to clap.

“Wow! Not only are you the first to climb it, you can also do tricks on it!” Rama’s amazement was easy to hear. He looked up to him.

But Malik saw the crumbling of the stone underneath Altair’s palms, the tiny fluffs of dust that feathered up whenever he changed hands. Again Malik said, “Altair! I’m serious! I don’t think you should-”

The sound of stone cracking followed by a crash filled the courtyard, and dust filled the air. Coughing it up and swatting it from his eyes, Malik blinked through the burning sensation in search of Kadar. He had been positioned on the side of the wall that collapsed inward. Little legs with familiar shoes poked out under stone squares, and Malik began to frantically toss back the stones. Each stone he threw was seconded by Altair, who was doing the same on the other side of the fall. Blood seeping from his knee and ran down his leg, but Altair didn’t seen to notice it. Malik kept going and didn’t stop until he came to Kadar’s face. The dust lightened it and he coughed once. A wave of relief overcame Malik, and he pulled his brother up. 

Across from them, Altair was still digging. The sleeves of his tunic turned dark brown. Malik and Kadar followed his lead, and returned to the task at hand.

“What is going on back here?”

“The children!”

“Rama!”

Voices behind them, adult voices. Angry adult voices. The boys Kadar and Malik were moved to the side as the adults removed the rumble and found Rama and Bumi. Bumi held his forehead, blood seeming from his palm, and Rama just lay there. Malik watched all this with an open mouth, unable to do anything more. Strong hands took him by the shoulder, and he and his brother were whisked away by their farther. The last thing he recalled was Altair, standing in the corridor with his head hanging, getting scolded at by his father.

Rama had broken a leg, but lived. It kept him back from training and he was a year behind his friends, but that never stopped him. The group of boys had remained the same save for a new member by the name of Beo, a family member of Bumi’s who’d come to visit for that year’s festival. Malik didn’t like him, not from the first time he’d met the boy, but that mattered little because the boy was older and faster and stronger than them, and the other boys really liked him. All his jokes were funny and all his stories were true. 

Giving a knowing look from across the courtyard as the adults readied for that night’s festivites, the boys melted into the background save for one. Altair remained by his father’s side, watching the older man talk. His father turned to him, picked him up, and put him on his shoulders. A huge grin spread across his face, and he rested his head on his father’s. It appeared Altair didn’t want to play today.

“It’s going to be fun.” Kadar whispered to Malik, who had serious doubts about that. “Not like that wall incident. At least this year, we’re older and wiser. And we’ll make sure Rama doesn’t break his leg again.”

“You’re going to do it anyway, so who am I to stop you?” Malik retorted, and his brother laughed. He recognized to familiar glint of competition in his brother’s eye as they neared the entanglment of trees clustered around a small pool of water at the base of a tiny ravine.

They were to play tag today, or their verison of it. Hiding in the trees, they would throw weapons at the others as they ran through the small maze of wood. The weapons were of course fake, nothing more than fabric stuffed with wool and shaped into triangles. In the minds of the boys, these were the throwing knives their fathers had. 

The game was divided into teams, the brothers verses the cousins. They were given time to make their own ‘castles’, safe places, and gather their ‘weapons’. 

“When I say go, you go for Bumi and I’ll go after Rama.”

“Why do I get Rama?” Malik watched the reflected shadows on the floor. A larger figure hunched a few feet behind their hiding spot. Too big to be Bumi. 

“Because I know he’ll be safer with you than me.” Kadar looked over his shoulderout of the hiding place, and returned with his back to the tree. A nervous giggle escaped him. Malik was not convinced. “What! You’ll go easy on him and you’re better at controlling yourself than I am. This way, he won’t get hurt this year and father won’t have our hides when we get home.” One year, Malik prayed, one year without childhood shenanigans. Kadar outstretched his hand, "Together then?” 

Malik took it. “Always.”

The pair leapt out from behind the trees and rushed the other ‘Assassins’. The sound of laughter filled the ravine as the boys darted and dove, mimicking the Assassins they’d watched for hours on end. ‘Daggers’ flopped harmlessly on the ground after ‘missing’ the boys, but they didn’t care about the rules anymore. They were just having fun. 

Kadar dove after Bumi who’d taken to charging after Malik who was hiding from Rama when a flash of gray blurred past him and buried itself into a nearby tree with a twang! The group froze, and looked up to see a lone figure, much bigger than themselves, leaning into their hidden area. Then a second blur of motion caught Rama’s shoulder, and pushed him to the ground.

“Rama!” Bumi ran to his friend. Blood ran down his arm, and a silver throwing knife pretruded from his shirt. Tears ran down his face.

Beo lolled slowly down the trail to their area. “Are you guys playing like Assassins? Because I can play too.”

“We don’t use real knives, Beo. Look, you’re hurt Rama.” With shaking hands, Bumi nudged the knife and it flopped to the ground. Beo hurried to secure it.

“What’s the fun in that?” Beo rolled his eyes and wiped the blood off his knife. “See? Not even a lot of blood.”

“That’s still not funny, and we’re not going to play with you if you think it is.” Bumi glared up at his cousin.

“You can’t talk to me like that.” Kicking out with his left leg, he tried catching Bumi’s jaw. Tried. Rama fell back and held his face. This turn of events made Beo laugh, an ugly, snotty sound. “What a baby. Real Assassins don’t cry. See? I’m a real one.” He exposed his set of small throwing knives, three in his hands, the fourth in the tree near Malik. “My father said these are mine for when I start training with the Assassins.” 

Kadar’s mouth was set in a hard line. Trying to keep himself unnoticed, Malik didn’t react. Kadar slowly looked over his shoulder, keeping a mental note of his brother, and finding him, furrowed his brows. Malik slowly jut his chin towards the tree that held the dagger, and understanding the circumstances, Kadar side stepped to cover his brother from unwelcome eyes.

“You’re not a real Assassin.” Bumi stood and faced Beo resulting in a shove.

“Yes I am!”

"No you’re not! You’re not playing nice!”

“So?” He shoved Bumi again, and Bumi took a wider step back. “Are you really so stupid to think Assassins play nice?” Shove. “They hurt people.” Shove. “Assassins kill people, and unless you’re tough, you can’t be one.”

It happened so quickly after that. A soft thump as the back of the boy’s shirt was lifted up and pulled over his head so that his arms were stuck in an upright position. The dagger dropped from his hand, Kadar dove for this one, Malik, the other. Behind them landed...

“Altair!” Beo pulled down his shirt, his face red with rage. Or embarrassment. He was an older boy who’d just gotten bested by a group of younger boys, afterall. “You little-”

“Leave my friends alone, Beo.” Commanded Altair, then followed up with a smirk said, “If anyone is going to bully them then it’s to be me.”

“You are so dead!” Beo charged across the area and grabbed Altair by the waist, picking him up and slamming him against a tree. It quivered, dropping leaves, and obstructing Altair’s view as he bobbed and weaved under the boy’s fists. A punch to the stomach. A hit to the shoulder.

“We’ve got to help him!” There was no opposition.

The idea clicked to all three at once, and they ran into the fray. Bumi went behind the fight, Rama positioned himself on all fours behind Beo, and Malik leapt onto Beo’s back. This wasn’t the plan, but he couldn’t allow Altair be hurt any more than he’d already had.

One fist in the air, Malik held it tight and pulled with all his might. Then came Kadar with the running kick. Laughter rumbled deep from within Beo’s stomach and out his throat. “You think that hurts?”

“Shut up.” Malik rolled his eyes, supressing his enjoyment of the next line. “We’re just distraction.”

Bumi rushed out from the treeline just as Altair kicked Beo in the stomach and rolled away. Bumi shoved his older cousin, who tripped over Rama and fell flat on his back. The group of boys looked at one another. Kadar was holding up a bruised Altair, Malik was holding Rama, and all of them beamed. 

Altair’s father approached from over the hill, a jar of dates in his hands, and this he almost dropped when he saw the seen. “Altair? Altair?!” A few bounds brought him to his son, and he got to his knees to inspect his bruised cheek and shoulder. “What is the meaning of this, son?”

Altair opened his mouth, then promptly shut it.

“Beo was hurting Rama and Altair came to help.” Malik spat out suddenly. All eyes snapped to him. His words flooded from his mouth, “He didn’t do anything wrong, Master Ibn-La’Ahad. He was just helping us.”

The Master looked back to his son, and then examined the other boys. Dirty and bruised, Rama bleeding, he nodded and smiled to them all. “And what a good help he was. Now, everyone, let’s keep this amongst ourselves and allow me to do the talking, sound like a plan?” Altair’s grin spread cheek to cheek, Malik and Kadar looked at one another nodded vigoriously, and Rama allowed the Master to lift him up as he began walking them back to the party

From his place in front of the father and son, Malik heard this;

“Father, why did that boy say Assassins hurt people? That-that’s not really what it’s about. Right?”

“That correct, son. Assassins protect those who can not protect themselves. They do good, they serve others, and they listen to their fathers.” Laughter. Then gentle silence.

“Like I did?”

“Just like you did, Altair. The best Assassin you’ll be.”

They drifted apart until the unfortunate events of when Altair turned the ripe old age of 15. Though they no longer got into trouble, well, much trouble, they all remained close. During the festival, that was. Malik, Kadar, and Altair were interesting in becoming Assassins but hadn’t yet been accepted. Rama was interested in knowledge and aimed to be a scholar, Bumi enjoyed the construction and invention part of the Brotherhood.

“Our tenth festival together.” Kadar threw an arm each over Rama, who now towered over them, and Altair, who was beginning to. “What should we do to celebrate? Talk to girls? Get into a fight?”

“When will your brother grow up?” Rama laughed, turning to Malik. Malik kept his face straight, staring at the communication between Altair’s father and his own. 

“As long as I am here to be his concious?” Malik grabbed his chin and began to think. Then, coming to an abrupt conclusion, pointed his finger to the sky and flicked his brother’s nose. Altair laughed. “Never.”

“Thanks, dear brother.” Kadar dropped his arm from Rama to rub his aching nose. “I’ll remember that when mother asks one of her favorite sons to put the goats away.”

Though he didn’t act like it, Malik knew the threat was real. The goats hated him, and after being chased countless times it had fallen on Kadar to gather them up as long as Malik milked the cow for him. 

The festival music sounded. Wine and flood would soon flow. Altair searched the crowds, and his eyes lit when he spotted his target. His father waved him over, and Altair untangled himself from Kadar’s arm and smiled.

“You’re really going to leave us for your dad?” Kadar frowned, “Come on man! How some fun with us!”

"My father loves this festival, and it’s the one week a year where he’s not training long enough for me to spend some time with him. We’ll get in trouble later, Kadar. I can always count on you for that.” Altair rushed over to his father, who threw an arm over him and guided him towards the other Masters.

“Hm, you think he’d leave us for them?” Kadar muttered to himself.

“All a part of growing up.” Malik tussled his brother’s hair, and lifted his arm so it draped over his shoulder. “Come. Surely we can find some girls for you to embarrass yourself in front of. Or the very least, a drink.”

The wine flowed freely that night, and the rest was a blur, but this he remembered; Kadar did trip and fall in front of a girl he’d come to fancy, girls giggled behind their palms when Rama began to dance with Malik and Bumi, darting their eyes whenever one of the three caught them staring, and Altair remained by his father’s side, smiling and laughing the entire night.

The next morning, trumpets sounded alarm, and Malik awoke with a fright. Kadar and he had shimmied into the guard tower and watched the events unfold. An army at the gates, Al Mualim shouting below. Then a pause. The air felt like it did before a storm.

“They’re after Altair’s father.” Malik mumbled. 

“We’ve got to get down there.” Kadar had read his mind. Years of learning the ins and outs of the castle walls, the brothers climbed the inner chambers until they exited into the courtyard. Altair ran past them, calling after his father. But Umar Ibn-La’Ahad walked out the gates without so much as a final look to his son. Altair fought his way through to him, but was held back by men much older and stronger than he, so he settled to the ground and cried out. Malik and Kadar didn’t need to see past the stone walls to know what was happening outside. They did the one thing they could. They took a knee at Altair’s side, his face hanging down as he clawed the sand, and they stayed there.

After that, they didn’t see Altair much. He was taken into by another family. He no longer went to festivals. The one time Malik managed to sneak up to his quarters to speak with him, Altair rolled his eyes and secured his hood soundly around his face.

“Those things are for fools and innocents. If I’m to be an Master, such petty things can not concern me.” Malik couldn’t read his eyes, hidden as they were, but left Altair with a jar of dates. Umar’s favorite.

They were scattered in the courtyard for the birds by morning.

After the fight with the Templars and gaining the Apple, Altair had changed, and yet, his feelings for that time of year remained the same. Suddenly, business seemed to take him and his from the festival each year. 

“Malik!” Altair rushed in, excitement clear on his face and in his tone. “The things I’ve seen out there! There’s a whole world outside of this place! You should come with us next year!”

Malik smiled fondly at his friend and tucked his good arm to his side. “Wish that I could, but Kadar’s family visits Masyaf but once a year, for the festival, and I don’t want to miss them.” Altair’s smile dropped, and Malik gave him a reassuring one. “Besides, the recent loss of weight has made me a terrible rider.”

A playful glint returned to Altair’s eye, though not fully. “A horse can finally bear your weight and your unable to ride?”

“Shouldn’t you be reading, Master?” Malik tossed a book at him which he ducked. It hit and landed on the opposite table, releasing a cloud of dust into the air. 

Just as quickly as his laughter had begun, it had faded. “Malik, if I may be serious a moment.”

“Just a moment?” Altair placed his hands on his hips, and rose a brow. “Fine. What have you to say?”

Altair chewed on his bottom lip before speaking, and when he did, his eyes were somber and his voice sad. “It just, reminds me of him. Every year. He loved it you know? Seeing all his friends, showing me off. ‘Look how big he’s grown this year.’” Altair mimicked his father perfectly, puffing up his chest to stand tall and grinning to expose all his teeth as his father did. “’Soon, he’ll be fighting alongside me. What’’- his voice shifted back, “what an Assassin he’ll be. I can’t do it, Malik. That festival reminds me every year that my father was taken from my life, and that he’ll never meet Maria. He’ll never meet my kids. I just can’t enjoy the things that he did, as he did. I’m not him.” Altair sighed deeply, looking down. “I’ll never be him.”

Malik absorbed those words as he went to his side, then he placed his hand on his shoulder. “Altair, you are not Umar. You will never be Umar. All you can be is Altair, and that is all any of us need from you. Pardon my jestering about the festival and let us speak of it no more. Free it from your mind.”

“Thank you, Malik, you’ve always been a good friend to me.” Altair dropped off the gifts from his travels, new books, before heading out the door. Then, he stopped, barely looking over his shoulder before quickly saying, “Maybe not forever. Just for now.” Then returned to his family.

....

“Are we to allow him his pain?” Arno spoke, and the spell was broken. Memories faded from Malik’s reality, and he blinked. More bodies had filled the space, and all of them expression concern.

“He would never leave one of us with this, we should do the same for him.” Shay said. Arno agreed.

“What’s the plan?” Elise rose, and dusted off her hands. “There has to be a plan.”

“Ok Siri,” Ezio spoke into his phone, “Where can I find good halal food?”

“What are you doing?” A small glimmer of hope entered Malik’s heart, it was alive in that room, a spark, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it. It could disappear if he did. 

“Connor, send out a mass text. Jacob, where are your keys?” Edward expertly caught the keys tossed his way and headed out the door.

“Altair has been sad long enough.” Haytham said, and passed Malik a cup. “Tea while we wait?”

Malik watched the cup and slowly shook his head. “How about we join?”

A wide grin spread across Haytham’s face, and they were off.

When Altair returned home, it was hard to ignore the number of cars in front of the house. Had he forgotten his birthday again? No, that had already happened. Altair bound up the steps and became even more confused by the music playing and the smells he was smelling. Food, good food. Allowing his nose to lead the way, Altair pushed open the door and found the entire house covered...

with people!

Malik stood at the forefront of the mass, a knowing look on his face. “Your Assassins felt you needed some celebration during this time of year. Keep in mind it’s no Festival,” Malik teased, hoping to soften the emotion in his words. “but we hoped...”

Altair was stunned. He took in the room, and then simply hung his head. Malik sighed, “This was a bad idea.”

“I- I love it.” Altair looked up, teary eyed, He tried wiping the back of his hands across his face, but this only made the tears roll down his cheeks and off his chin. Altair allowed them. “Do you, I mean, how could you know?” He looked around the room, Kassandra, Jacob, Shay, Adewale, Ezio, Evie, Bayek, Elise, Liam, Connor, Maria, Arno, Haytham, Desmond, Aveline, Edward, Henry, Alexios. Friends and family from around the world filled the room with such love, that Altair had no reaction to it other than light. The dark void in his heart left behind by his father’s death still ached him, but the love that had grown from it filled him completely. 

And Altair was happy.

[theincaprincess]

Shards of a forgotten past

I adopted this little plot bunny from the lovely @sdavid09 "Before Smaug, there was an Elf princess, Thranduil’s twin sister, who fell in love with a dwarf prince (Thorin). When the dragon attacked, she didn’t hesitate to go to the oblivious prince’s aid. What happens when she turns up later to help the company?"

So this is my spin on this plot bunny and because I suck at just writing one chapter this will be a few chapters long haha. 

Thank you to @amyf20 for the cover art darling, it was exactly what I was looking for! 

Also, I am tagging you lot and hope you don’t mind :D  @blankdblank @deepestfirefun @catthefearless @moonfaery @meyoko10 @tolkienprincess @starlightintherain89 @southsidesarcasticwriter  @nikolett3 @j25m18c24 @makingmischiefandcausingtrouble  @letsbeinspiredby @shanty-lol @miabee0706  

Word count 1,855

Pacing up and down the halls of his kingdom he waited for news about his wife, hearing the door open he turned to the small elleth “my lord, it’s a boy” smiling to himself he smiled at her but the smile dropped at hearing his wife scream the elleth turned and ran back in the room closing the door behind her, a few moments later the same elleth opened the door to see the king on his knees “King Oropher, you have a daughter” feeling his mouth growing dry he hoarse voice asked “how?” “Twins my lord, the Queen has given birth to twins, you can come in and see them” raising to his feet Oropher entered the room and turned to his wife who softly smiled at him and looked towards the second elleth holding the babies, holding his hands out he softly asked “may I?” “Of course my lord” handing over the baby boy He saw the pale blue eyes looking up at him “Thranduil” his wife whispered, swapping over he held up the baby girl and smiled at her bright shining blue eyes looking to his wife for her name, she smiled “you can name her Oropher” turning his eyes back to the baby he studied her small frame and wet his lips before speaking “the boy is older?” “Yes my lord” “then she shall be known as Thennith” looking for approval Oropher turned to his wife and saw her eyes shut “love?” He asked handing Thennith to the elleth, sitting on the bed he placed his hand over hers and draw it back at how cold it was “my darling?” He asked once again the panic building in him, the elleth by the door rushed over to his side as the one with the babies placed them in the cot, placing her hand under the Queen's nose she gasped “my lord, your wife, the Queen is dead”

....

Walking though the halls Thennith was on her way to the family dinner, quickly braiding her long platinum blonde hair into an elegant side braid, her father still had no idea she attended archery and sword lesions, Thranduil knew because it was his idea, not wanting to have a weak sister arriving outside the royal wing she straightened her long grown and entered already seeing her brother in his chair holding his wine glass ranting to their father about something “and here is the lamb to the slaughter” Thranduil spoke while smirking at Thennith “we’re vegetarians Thranny” she replied with her own smirk as she knew he hated her nickname for him, kissing her Fathers check she took her seat as Oropher shook his head at the sarcastic comments his children offered each other, “Thranduil, Thennith, as you are aware the young dwarf prince Thorin will be coming of age soon, and I need one of you to go along to represent our kingdom” “Thranduil can go, after all he is the oldest” Thennith replied smirking, “But you are the fairest dear sister” Thranduil smirked back causing her to roll her eyes, “can you two just listen for five minutes” Oropher shouted at the siblings making them both jump at they fathers outburst, “I have decided Thennith, you are going as Thranduil needs to be here, as acting king” sharing a look the siblings looked to their father for an explanation “there is a battle soon to the east and I am taking some of the armies there, I will be gone no longer than 6 months, and that’s my final order, now both of you go get any of your business sorted” “yes father” Thranduil and Thennith said as they rose from their chairs and left their father alone. 

....

Arriving at the front gates of Erebor a few weeks after her father left for the war to the east, Thennith and a few nobles from the woodland realm presented their invitation to the guards and was told where to go, following their instructions the group walked through the halls while the princess studied every inch of Erebor, she had never seen such great craftsmanship and was in awe of the dwarven kingdom, “Thennith focus” the older noblewoman whispered to her while handing her a box “we are to walk up to Prince Thorin, and give him the box, don’t speak to him unless you're spoken to” nodding Thennith turned to face the door “one more thing Thennith a messages from your father, don’t be sarcastic” hearing that she let out a giggle just as the door to the throne room opened. Looking a head at the throne her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the throne room, it was much bigger then she expected tuning her blue eyes over everything the finally landed on the young raven haired prince, sitting proudly in the throne, studying him she watched as his muscled chest rose and fell with his breathing, how his leg was moving up and down, probably due to boredom, she thought to herself and the way he was rubbing his thumb and index finger together, a nervous tick perhaps, getting closer to him she could now see his eyes more clear and when the light hit them the right way they were shining like the rarest sapphires, feeling a soft flutter in her heart she knew that the young dwarf prince was her soulmate, “ may I present Princess Thennith and the nobles of the woodland realm” taking a breath she walked up to Thorin and handed him the box and slightly bowed “thank you” the young prince spoke making her sightly shiver at his deep baritone voice “you’re welcome, Prince Thorin” she spoke flashing her lashes at him “may I present” the older dwarf started as the noble woman pushed her aside, leaving the room the group was making their way to the guest room when one of the guards approached them “Princess Thennith?” “Yes?” “I have a letter for you” taking it from the guard she opened it, and gasped turning to the group “we must return home right away, my father is dead” feeling the world around her closing in, the elven princess fainted.

*years later*

“Pull it back all the way, and visually the target, control your breathing and when your ready to let go, let go” with a swoosh an arrow was released from a bow and landed in the target bullseye with an exhale Legolas turned “I did it Auntie Thennith, I hit the target” “you sure did little leaf, and it’s the longest yet” “Father did you?” “Yes I did, now go back inside and finish your work” Thranduil huffed “but Father....” “Now Legolas” turning to her nephew Thennith smiled “listen to your Father, little leaf we will pick this up later” “I’m not little, I am of age” Legolas protested getting a glare from his father making him rush inside, collecting the bow and arrows Thennith turned to her brother “what has you so grumpy Thranny?” “The  scouts have informed me of a dragon on the move” “a dragon, it can’t be, I thought you killed them all in the north years ago brother” “all but the one who gave me my scar, Smaug the foul beast, they have tracked his movements his on the way to Dale and Erebor” “do the dwarves and humans know?” “No, but we must make our kingdom secure” “Thranduil we have to warn them” “it’s too late Thennith, he’ll be there by daybreak” “then at least gather the army and help them, Father would have done it, and if you don’t warn them, I will!” Listening to his sister Thranduil knew he would be fighting a losing battle, if he kept trying to disagree with her, after all, she was the general of the army, and would take them without his permission nodding Thranduil waved one of the guards over "call all the  nobles to the throne room" waving his hand the guard rushed off,  "I will meet you at the throne room in half an hour Thranduil” Thennith said as she rushed off as well, huffing as he watched his sister run off Thranduil knew he was only doing this because she would have taken the army and probably get herself and them killed walking back into his kingdom he made his way to the throne room, to inform all the nobles and make plans for Legolas to be crown king if anything goes wrong. 

....

Standing at the edge of the cliff she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, Dale was in flames and the dwarves of Erebor were fleeing their kingdom in terror, smoke raising from both city’s was feeling the air making the day dark, and ashes falling like snow, searching the fleeing dwarves with her elven eyesight Thennith felt her heart beating faster she hadn’t seen Thorin yet and started to think the worst till a formally baritone voice hit her ears turning to her left she saw him waving his hands screaming for their help, “Thranduil we must help them” she demanded “why should we dear sister?” Looking at the two city’s in flames Thranduil remembered the night Smaug almost took his life, and he didn’t want a repeat of it, “Thranduil there is a dragon in there, the one that marked you” “and almost took my life, if you haven’t forgotten” Thranduil hissed “they will die!” “And how is that our problem sister?” Thranduil asked coldly. 

Looking back down at Erebor Thennith saw Thorin still waving for help “Thranduil you know my feelings for the Prince” climbing down off his elk Thranduil stood next to his twin sister his icy blue eyes looking over the scene below them, landing on Thorin “what you feel for him is not real sister, it was only a stupid childhood crush” “don’t you dare say that Thranduil, I know how I feel” Thennith turned to face her brother anger flashing in her once bright eyes  “you know nothing of love Thennith” Thranduil snapped at how foolish his sister was, for years she pinned over the dwarf prince, sending him letters but got nothing in return, he spent many nights listing to her crying, and vowed to himself never to see her hurt again and Thranduil was not on the best of terms with the dwarves as they still had not returned his late wife’s necklace, hearing her brother words Thennith starred Thranduil in the eyes as her anger exploded “and neither do you brother, or your wife would still be alive” watching her words hit a nerve in Thranduil she regretted them at once turning to Erebor again as she couldn’t face the painful look she knew would be on her brothers face  “no but I can keep you alive” was the last thing she heard, before feeling the hit to the back of the head “return to our kingdom” Thranduil ordered the army as he pulled his sisters body up and across his elk as Thorin watched them leave, vowing to never trust another elf in his life time.

Part 2

[letswritefanfiction]

Lost in Halloweenia! Ch3

Crosspost from ffnet and AO3.

Summary: It’s Halloween! Ash and the gang are living it up trick or treating when they stumble upon a strange house with some strange artifacts. What mysteries do they hold and…wait, who are those three lurking behind them?

Word Count: 4,065/27,343

Previous chapter here

Next chapter here

Chapter 3: The Last Midnight

We left off last time with Ash and the gang in a strange land named Halloweenia, accompanied by their mostly helpful aid, Mantar. And Team Rocket was…Oh yes, this is a familiar sight.

Screams echoed as Team Rocket seemed to tumble through space, unable to see where they were going. Before too long, though, James landed face-first on the ground with his limbs all akimbo. Without so much as a second to right himself, Jessie landed squarely on his back, and Meowth straight on top of her.

“Ugh,” James groaned into the floor, “why do I always have to be the fall guy?”

“It was the chivalrous thing to do, James; it puts your childhood to good use,” Jessie grunted as she heaved Meowth off of her.

After Meowth finished seeing stars, he looked around in wonderment. “Whoa, where are we?”

They were in a cavernous room, or possibly a hallway, with strange plants of various sizes and the same kinds of Halloween relics as had been in the strange house, some floating in midair, some seeming to be almost alive.

Spotting a strange Ekans figure spiraling around a tree jutting out sideways from the stony wall, Jessie moved to get a closer look. But before she could get too close, the whole room started shaking beneath her feet.

“Oh no, what now?” James whimpered as he covered his head for safety.

Suddenly, the floor beneath them opened up; the ground simply vanished as it was replaced with a black pit. Jessie, James, and Meowth were suspended in the air for a moment of panic as they looked at each other before they shot their arms up and yet again began to scream.

“Team Rocket’s falling down again, again!”

Sounds of Halloweenia’s great party were reverberating throughout the land to the point that it almost seemed like the moss on the trees was bumping up and down to the beat. The music combined with the chatter and general merriment created a pervasive din and a quite happy atmosphere. Everywhere except for around Mantar and our friends.

Ash observed a Girafarig whose black half had almost entirely taken over its yellow half, leaving nothing but yellow dots up its neck to hint at its prior color.

“So that’s what’s gonna happen to Pikachu?” Ash asked cooly, stroking Pika-boo’s now luscious brown fur.

“It’s likely to some degree, yes,” Mantar answered. “But fear not, once you return to your world the effects should reverse just as they came on.”

“You mean it’s not permanent?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Oh, thank goodness!”

Ash took Pika-boo in his arms and cheered as Pika-boo quietly cooed, knowing that his still-Pikachu voice would be the only thing to give him away. Misty and Brock likewise smiled, looking at Pika-boo with abundant relief.

“It’s a shame there aren’t any Water Pokémon around,” Misty observed. “I’d like to see what changes they’d go through.”

“You’d just like to see any Water Pokémon,” Ash joshed. He turned to Mantar. “Water Pokémon are her favorites.”

As he spoke, Ash began reaching for a piece of carnival food that he and Pikachu had been eyeing. It was shaped like a Hoothoot, which would have been fun enough, but more than that, it was doughy and it smelled salty and fatty and divine. With a flash of his eyes, Mantar froze Ash and Pikachu, then turned them around so they couldn’t even look at the food anymore. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You have no idea what effect objects from this world can have on you.”

Ash whimpered a little bit. “So we don’t get to eat the whole time that we’re here?”

“I wouldn’t try i—”

“Wait, I still have my Halloween candy!”

Ash tore out his bag of tasty treats and began digging into it, only pausing to stop to give Pika-boo a piece. Pika-boo struggled to work out eating with his new fangs and his teeny mouth, but neither he nor Ash seemed to have too much trouble with shoveling away their snacks.

With a roll of his eyes, Mantar turned back to Misty. “I’m sure you could find a Seismitoad around here eventually if you keep your eyes peeled.”

Misty’s face faltered. “A Seismitoad. Oh, goodie.”

“What’s that?” Ash mumbled to Brock, his words hardly coherent through all the chocolate, nuts, and caramel.

“Let’s just say it’s not pretty,” Brock whispered back. “Like, worse than a Tentacruel not pretty.”

Misty suddenly popped up and pulled Brock by the ear. She scowled at him. “I heard that.”

“Ow, not the ear! I didn’t even do anything!”

“Let’s move along, children,” Mantar suggested.

Eager to get away from Misty’s cruel fingers, Brock hopped at the opportunity to follow Mantar, and Ash and Misty were quick to follow. Mantar explained things as he led the group further into the fray.

“Halloween is the biggest celebration of the year here, because it’s the day that our world was created. So, just like you, every year we dress up and have a festival in commemoration.”

Sure enough, everyone seemed to be dressed in outlandish costumes imitating various people, Pokémon, and other creatures, but they hardly seemed necessary. There was a man, entirely red with horns emerging from his face, dressed up like a Bisharp, a Bisharp dressed like a zombie, and that zombie girl from before was dressed in an all red evening gown like a lounge singer from back in their world.

“Mantar, can I ask you something?” Misty started.

“Of course.”

“Why aren’t you wearing a costume, then?”

Mantar frowned, his moustache twitching a little. “The gate between your world and our world must be guarded at all times. But nobody ever wants to work it on Halloween. So I volunteered for it. There was no party for me, so I didn’t bother dressing up.”

“Well, that’s no problem!” Ash grinned. “You can just enjoy the party now!”

Suddenly, Ash was wearing an frilly orange suit and bowler hat that looked like a pumpkin as he jumped into the midst of the party with Pika-boo. They danced away up against a Honchcrow dressed as a gangster, who was doing a pro body wave.

Everyone else sweat-dropped as they looked on, stealthily scooting away.

“We’ll just pretend we don’t k know them,” Brock whispered.

Misty nodded, looking off to the side and whistling nonchalantly.

“I appreciate the offer,” Mantar called out to Ash after letting out a nervous cough, “but I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Suddenly, Ash and Pikachu were back, breathing heavily from their mediocre dancing skills.

“Because it is my current duty as gatekeeper to get you all home safely. After that, I must immediately return to the gate; it’s bad enough as it is that I’m not there right now as I’m helping you.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ash stated firmly. “You said that Pikachu will be able to go back to normal when we get back to Johto, so there’s no rush.”

“I’m afraid that it’s not that simple. You have to leave by midnight, or else you won’t be able to return.”

Ash started. “Y-You mean we’ll be stuck here forever?”

“Yes. And when I say forever, I mean it truly, because people here don’t die.”

Ash, Misty, Brock, and Pikachu all looked at each other with wide eyes, gulping nervously, with nothing else to say, but:

“Uh-oh.”

“Run for your life!”

“I am, Jessie! I am!”

“Well, I’m running for all nine of my lives, ‘cause I was nevah meant to run dis fast!”

Jessie and Meowth had their eyes squeezed shut as they sprinted through the night. Only James dared a look back at their fiery pursuer. There behind them, but still far too close, was a full-grown Rapidash, flames ablaze. However, unlike an ordinary Rapidash, with a creamy, white coat, this one was that of a dark charcoal, blending in with the night so that the licking flames burned your eyes against all the dark.

That wasn’t the worst part, though. James let out a girly scream as he got another good look at the man riding the dark Rapidash.

A headless horseman.

James picked up the pace, as did Jessie and Meowth. The countryside flew by as the horseman continued to gain on them until he was nigh on their heels. With a flying leap, the Rapidash cleared their heads, landing on their other side and causing the trio to come to a screeching halt. Inches away from the horseman, Jessie, James, and Meowth held onto each other, barely holding back their whimpers.

Then, before they could even give a cry, the horseman cracked his whip of bones and the Rapidash spun around, kicking Team Rocket into the night with its mighty hind-haunches.

Still holding onto each other as they flew through the air, screeches being ripped from their bodies, they arched over the countryside, over the neighborhoods, and over the buzzing city until they crashed straight into the tallest building around.

Fortunately, the window was nothing but an empty rectangle in the gothic stone frame of what truly amounted to a castle. So, with limited crashing, Team Rocket tumbled onto a stone floor, a tangle of limbs and groans.

“Ugh, I feel like we’re being abused more this episode than usual,” James whined as he stood up, dusting himself off.

“New author,” Meowth commented, touching his charm to make sure that it hadn’t been broken in the crash landing.

“Both of you be quiet!” Jessie snapped. “What’s that sound?”

“It sounds as though it’s coming from downstairs.”

“It sounds like quite da party.”

Suddenly, the trio’s eyes lit up and triplet grins spread wide on their faces.

“A party!”

The stone room at the top of the tower gave way to a spiral staircase that the Team Rocket trio ran down, sounds of the party growing louder and louder with every footfall. They passed by many floors, all seemingly themed with some Halloween element or another, but the gang hardly stopped for a breath in their mission to find whichever floor was housing the party.

Eventually they stumbled upon a large banquet hall, and it was immediately obvious that it was party central. The room was decorated with rich harvest golds and metallic oranges, deeply opulent as well as all-encompassing of fall. And in the enormous room were hundreds and hundreds of people as well as Pokémon, not to mention games, food, drinks, decorations—all the trappings of a well-planned party.

“People certainly go all out with their costumes here,” Jessie observed as she spotted a mummy, completely wrapped in dusty bandages, save for his nearly invisible eyes. He was even carting a sarcophagus similar to that of a Cofagrigus behind him.

“Can I interest you in a drink?”

A Gothorita was standing beside them, holding a golden tray of variously colored drinks, far above her head so that it was on level with Jessie and James. She was dressed as a bat, wearing very angular wings out of her back and pointed ears on her pigtails.

“Wait, are you a person or a Pokémon?” James asked, pointing at her face.

The Gothorita laughed. “I’m a Pokémon, silly! Now, how about that drink?”

“Oh, well, don’t mind if I do,” James said politely, taking an orange drink.

Gothorita went off to continue milling about the party as James began to sip on his drink.

“Well, that’s strange;” Jessie observed. “I didn’t think that any Pokémon could speak except for you, Meowth.”

“I know,” Meowth said with a pout. “I don’t feel so special here.”

“Oh, like you feeling special is the biggest of our worries.”

“Uh, guys?”

“Well, I happen to tink dat one’s opinion of themselves is one of the most important tings to concern themselves wit.”

“Especially if they’re a walking, talking cat Pokémon, right?”

“That’s right!”

“Guys!”

Jessie and Meowth turned to look at James, only to find that he wasn’t where they last saw him. Or, rather, he was, but they just had to look a little lower.

“James! You’re a Raticate!”

“I know!”

“I hate rats!”

“I know!”

“Well, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know!”

James looked pathetic. He was trying to hold his head in his hands, but they could barely reach. His body was shaking and his eyes were becoming more tear-filled by the second.

“I think that drink I had was some kind of a potion!”

Jessie growled. “Well, then let’s find that dumb waiter girl and give her a piece of my mind! Right, Meowth? Meowth?”

Immediately assuming the worst, Jessie’s eyes darted around, looking for Meowth and whatever terrible thing could have happened to him. But lo and behold, he was still right where he had been, just thoroughly ignoring the both of them.

“Meowth! What’s the big idea?” James demanded.

One look at Meowth’s face, however, told the whole story. His mouth was drooling just a bit, but more dramatic than that, his eyes had turned to large, pink hearts that were beating quite fast.

“Me-yowza!”

Jessie and James-Raticate turned to follow Meowth’s gaze and saw a sassy Meowth with a blue-gray coat. She was twirling a curled whisker in her paw and batting her curled eyelashes and not one second later, Meowth was out of there, thoughts of helping his friend James left in his dust.

“Well, Meowth is nothing if not reliable,” Jessie grumbled.

Suddenly, someone dressed as a scarecrow came over to Jessie, black eyes wide as he zoomed in with no regard for personal space.

“Wow, your costume is so realistic!” he complimented as he poked and prodded her face. “What is it made out of?”

One good pinch to her cheeks was enough to send scarecrow boy flying away with a bright red hand print on his face.

A vein on Jessie’s temple was pulsing as she clenched her fists tightly. “I do not need to stand here and be insulted! Come on, James, we’ll figure out how to change you back somewhere else.”

Jessie dove into the party for just a moment to grab Meowth by the tail, away from the female Dark Meowth, leaving him kicking the air in protest before she too grabbed James-Raticate and booked it out of the banquet hall.

The stone staircase continued further down, even though they must have traversed dozens of flights by that point. But Jessie figured that eventually they had to reach the ground floor and, therefore, the exit to the forsaken castle.

Predictably, the stairs did run out eventually. But they didn’t leave off at an obvious front door. Rather, they opened up to a stone room, much like the one they had fallen into on the top floor, though this one was much larger.

And much spookier.

It was completely empty, save for some suits of armor lining the walls and some sconces lighting the way. The sounds of the party were completely mute from down there, even though they had been so roaring within the room that it seemed like you’d have to be miles away before the sound was drowned out. The only sound was that of their echoing footsteps upon the hard stone floor and the flickering of flames in the sconces. There were a few doors instantly visible in the large room. All were made of wood with thick, iron slabs screwed into them, and all were tall and formidable enough to be the front door.

Jessie sighed. “I guess we’ll just have to start trying doors.”

“Dat’s gonna have to be all you, Jess. Jimmy and I ain’t tall enough to reach any of the knobs.”

“Fine, fine, just choose one.”

“Um, how about that one?”

James pointed with his stubby paw to one that had gold plating rather than iron that shimmered in the dim light of the room. Hesitantly, Jessie reached for the gleaming knob and turned it, almost surprised when it was unlocked.

“For a castle, this place doesn’t have very good security,” she murmured.

Unfortunately, the door opened to reveal another room, rather than the out of doors. But this room wasn’t flaunting any great opulence, like the golden door suggested. Rather, in this room, the gray stone floor gave way to packed dirt, uneven with tree roots that dotted the floor. As the trio stepped in, they saw that the roots were all coming from one tree in the center of the room that was nearly seven feet tall. Not very large for a tree, but, at second glance, this was no ordinary tree.

The tree’s bark was ragged, even completely torn in places, giving way to a deep, black interior. And there were only a few tufts of leaves where the tree even seemed alive anymore. Despite the season, they were still bright green, and by far the most verdant part of the tree.

That wasn’t what the Team Rocket trio was looking at, though.

Nestled atop the small tuft of green at the tip of the tree was a magnificent crown. It was a pale, golden color, though it didn’t appear to be made of metal. The frame was nearly branch-like itself, with irregular golden sticks weaving together in zig-zags to form the cylindrical shape. Then, dotting the gold were colorful gemstones, glowing seemingly from the inside out. It was absolutely captivating to look at.

Jessie, James, and Meowth could barely tear themselves away from the object in order to look at each other. With the single glance, they knew they were all thinking the same thing.

They had to steal that crown.

“Now, it’s just a matter of how we’re gonna do it,” Meowth mused with a paw to his mouth. He knew he was the brains behind the operation and that Jessie and James were going to need him to think of a plan.

The last thing he expected was Jessie coming up with a plan first. She picked him up by the scruff of his neck, and heaved him in the direction of the crown.

With only a moment to gather his wits, Meowth reached his arms out for the crown. He only had once chance to grab it, and he had to get it right.

Fortunately, Jessie was a good throw. Meowth landed flawlessly right on the top of the tree and plucked the crown up into his paws. It was heavy, but not as heavy as if it had been pure gold or any other metal. For Meowth’s size, it was cumbersome more than anything; his arms had to be nearly completely outstretched just to hold on to it. Once he had a good grasp, he leapt off of the tree, and back beside Jessie and James-Raticate.

Standing on the same plane as Meowth, James ogled the crown. He reached his tiny hands to the crown, just touching it, since he couldn’t really manage holding it. Then, after a moment, James-Raticate disappeared into a puff of smoke. When the smoke cleared, James stood in his full height, good as new.

“James, you’re back!” Jessie exclaimed.

“Oh, thank goodness.” James’s voice was thick with relief as he patted his own body to make sure that he was, in fact, human again.

“Then why is da Pokémon the one stuck carrying da heavy crown?”

Jessie didn’t need any more convincing. She snatched the beautiful crown out of Meowth’s hands, marveling at it for a moment. Then, a rustling came from the tree in the center of the room and Team Rocket’s hearts dropped. They couldn’t risk anyone trying to take away the dear prize of this exquisite crown!

“We gotta get outta here!”

“Right!”

“Right!”

And, just like that, they absconded out of the castle, crown in hand.

Ash, Misty, and Brock were all talking over each other, all but yelling in each other’s faces. Maybe they were trying to figure out a plan, maybe they were talking about the dinner plans they were missing. Who could tell over all that yelling? Pika-boo and Mantar just looked at each other, sighing as they waiting for it to come to an end.

It didn’t.

Eventually, it all became too much and Pika-boo began charging up to use a Thundershock on the whole group. Eyes wide, Mantar clenched his spoons, and crossed them, letting them glow red before Pika-boo’s sparks winked out.

“Disable; temporary Attack,” he clarified when Pika-boo looked at him questioningly. “You can’t use an Electric Attack while in this form, Pikachu. People will ask questions. As for these clowns…”

Mantar shifted towards the still-squabbling kids and simply wacked them each on the head with his spoons.

“Ugh, I guess we needed that,” Brock groaned.

“You sure did.”

“Pikaa.”

“Thanks, Pikachu,” Ash said sarcastically, rubbing the growing lump on his head. “So then what is this portal thing?”

Mantar sighed. “That’s the hard part. Any object artifact from your world will do, but they’re rare. Furthermore, a spell is needed to go along with them, as far as I know. It’s not legal to pass through worlds, so the details are shrouded in mystery. But there are peddlers that do it, but I, personally, have never done it.”

“So, basically, we don’t know,” Brock surmised.

“Essentially,” Mantar answered regretfully.

“So,” Misty started, hope trying with all its might to remain in her voice, “do you have any idea where we should start?”

The gang was left hanging as Mantar’s eyes suddenly went blank. He was unmoving to the point that he looked more like a statue than a living, breathing Alakazam. Ash snapped in front of his eyes as Pika-boo waved his wing-like fluff, but to no avail.

“Nobody’s home,” Ash said as he put his face right up to Mantar’s, squinting into his eyes.

A moment later, Mantar blinked out of it, then glared at Ash, who quickly retreated.

“What happened, Mantar?” Misty asked.

“I received a telepathic message,” he explained, his voice grave. “There’s been a situation.”

“What kind of situation?” Brock asked as everyone looked at each other with concern.

“An object central to Halloweenia has been stolen. The king’s crown.”

“Do they have any idea who stole it?” Ash asked.

Mantar shook his head. “It couldn’t have been a Halloweenia resident. No one in their right mind would steal the crown. So there’s every reason for me to believe that someone came through the gate after you all. And, without me to guard it, they landed in Halloweenia without anyone knowing.”

Misty gasped. “You think another human stole it?”

“I’m afraid so. I need to return to the gate to see if it’s been compromised.”

“Wait!” Ash called out. “We need your help to find a portal!”

With a heavy breath, Mantar turned to Ash. “The truth is, I don’t know any more about portals in Halloweenia than I’ve already told you. The best advice I can give you is to get out of town. Tower guards are bound to be looking for humans all around the city.”

“But then how are we supposed to find a portal?” Misty asked, worry seeping into her tone.

“I’ll try and help you if I can,” Mantar said. “Just remember what I said and if you can ask for help without gaining any suspicion, then do it. That’s all I can tell you.”

“That’s all?” Ash asked.

“Oh, and this.” Mantar psychically projected a grainy image of the stolen crown. “This is King Trevenant’s crown, and that,” he pointed into the distance at the tallest building bursting through Halloweenia’s skyline, “is his tower. Don’t go there for any reason, whatsoever.”

“Okay,” Ash agreed.

“I have to go now.”

And before anyone could even say goodbye, Mantar teleported away. Then, in the distance, there was the sound of many gongs ringing out.

“What’s that?” Misty asked.

“It sounds like a clock tower,” Brock observed. “Ten rings.”

“Uh, Brock, that means it’s 10 o’clock,” Misty said with a gulp.

Ash’s eyes grew wide.

“We have two hours.”

As the clock strikes ten, things are looking worse and worse for Ash and co. Will they make it out before they’re stuck in Halloweenia forever? And what of Team Rocket? Is there more to that crown than meets the eye? All this and more in the next installment of Lost in Halloweenia!

[pyropsychiccollector]

Ultear x natsu x erza. 1, 3, 12, 13, 25, 26, 27 (ignore the last part question as its irrelevant) 32, 38, 39, 40. xD. Im sorry. I didnt know if i had a limit you dont have to do all of them xD I literally just jotted down numbers xD Much love, Darky ❤️ xD

1. - How do they fall asleep? Wake up? Any daily rituals?

            Well, goingwith an offshoot of my AU (Fervent Crimson Flame), Natsu’s a Wizard Saint, andso he’s a part of the new Magic Council. Ultear’s his assistant because Natsuknows nothin’ about politics, and he’d probably get Ishgar into war with thewhole world if left up to him. Mercifully, the new Magic Council doesn’t meetup as often (or, you know, meet up with every member, Natsu included, inattendance). Erza’s the successor to Makarov, so she can’t really “do” anythingabout official Council business thatUltear pulls Natsu away for.

            … The moresuspicious stuff – stuff she doesn’t hear about via frog-man messenger – shekeeps the two detained until she gets more concrete confirmation about Councilactivities. Wouldn’t do to let Ultear spend toomuch time with her dragon…

            With allthe duties piled on them, they rarely get a relaxing day at home. … At leastwith all three of them together. Sometimes, Erza gets to stay home with Natsu.Sometimes, Ultear gets to stay home with Natsu… And sometimes, Natsu just goesout to fish, because that’s way too much time spent in… bed… XD

            There is alot of snuggling involved with bedtime, of course. They needed to get a bed bigenough for the three of them because Erza doesn’t trust Ultear to share Natsuwith separate beds, and Ultear thinks her jealousy and suspicion are justadorable~ Plus, more often than not, Natsu’s head will find its way to betweenher breasts when they sleep, and waking up to that is always amusing,especially when Scarlet sees it happen more than once. And the redhead istightly wrapped around the Dragon Slayer, so it’s amazing how his head keepswinding up between those soft, firm “pillows”. n___n

3.- Are they open about their relationship? How do they feelabout public displays of affection?

            By the timeUltear started gaining traction, worming her way into Natsu’s heart, Erza wasin a relationship with Natsu and was pretty open about it. She didn’t like thedevelopment of Ultear becoming Natsu’s girlfriend as well, and there was alengthy rocky period of time for the three because of it. Hell, it’s still noteasy for Erza to accept she’s part of a harem with Natsu… But she’s gottenbetter at… handling it. She wouldn’t give up Natsu for the world.

            On Ultear’send, she’s pretty surprised she made it this far with Natsu. She really wasn’texpecting anything. She knew Natsuand Erza were close, knew that since her time on the Magic Council. She was justhaving fun with her teasing, lustful ways, but somehow, the Dragon Slayer hadmelted the ice around her heart, and to her surprise, she’d come to besignificant to the pyro as well. Because she wasn’t expecting to get this farwith Natsu, though, Ultear is more open about a polygamous relationship thanErza is.

            On Natsu’send, he just wants both the girls happy. Doesn’t want to hurt either one –especially not Erza. Though the thing is, he doesn’t pay attention to the factthat they’re watching for his happiness, too.

            Ultearlikes making her affection public. Natsu will be caught off-guard half the timebecause she flaunts it about so much, but he returns it easily enough. Erza ismore reserved, but is not above looping arms together, hand-holding, and theoccasional public kiss. Natsu, with his free spirit nature, is a bit closer toUltear in personality when he wants to show affection; basically, he has norespect for decorum. “Screw the rules!” n_____n

12. - Is there a wedding? What was the proposal like? Anykind of honeymoon?

            With Erzain the mix, yeeeah, there’s a wedding. She might not like to share it withUltear, but there is that desperation to be married~. Ultear kind of forces itwhen she helps Natsu throw together the proposal, taking place at Akane Resortwhile Erza’s enjoying strawberry cheesecake… The wedding is formal and held atKardia Cathedral, with everyone from Fairy Tail and the guilds they’ve alliedwith (Mermaid Heel, etc.). … Also, Kagura is Maid of Honor, and Gray is BestMan (mostly Ultear’s choice). The honeymoon is more harmonious, since there’smore of a willingness to… “share” – even if it’s grudging, on Erza’s end.Ultear’s simply more mature. They have a relatively… isolated time, as Ulteartook them to her old home in Isvan. To properly appreciate her new hubby, y’know?Weather’s cold outside, but hubby keeps her warm and tingling all the way downto her toes~

13. - What do they do for fun? Do they have a favoriteactivity or do they like to switch things up?

            Ultearlikes to taunt Erza by being openly affectionate with their dragon~. Beyondthat, this is a fairly unique OT3, with their similar and clashing personalitytraits. Sometimes they’ll go to a jazz club, sometimes they’ll go see a theaterplay, sometimes they’ll spar (well, Natsu and Erza will), sometimes they’llfish… sometimes they’ll cook (Erza’s not allowed in the kitchen), sometimesthey’ll just spend time in the guild… And sometimes, they just spend the day in…bed. XD

25. - How much time do they spend together? Do they sharetheir feelings, or hold things in?

            They spenda lot of time together – whether it’s just two of them or all three. Erza andNatsu are ready and perfectly willing to share feelings with one another,though Ultear is more reserved than them, and it takes some work for her to comeforward every now and then. Only when she has to, and it’s usually with Natsu…of course.

26. - How do their friends feel about their relationship?Their families?

            Meredy’sjealous. Jellal… tries to keep happy for them. Gray is… a little pissed forvarying reasons; most have to do with Ultear, and the fact that if Natsumarries her, they’ll be related. Kagura’s a little miffed as well, because toher, it’s as if Natsu’s saying Erza “isn’t enough”. Takes everyone a littletime to adjust to it, but thanks to the fact the dynamic between the threeremains largely unchanged, it’s a fairly easy adjustment period.

27. - Do they have kids? Grow old together? Split up?

            Erza andUltear have at least one kid with Natsu each; Erza being the more competitiveof the two, she might have a second child, or a third if they’re twins. ForUltear, she’s just happy she can bear Natsu’s child and give him or her a childhoodshe herself never had the opportunity to have. It’s similar for Erza and herchildren, and Natsu wants to make sure all of his children never lose theirdad. And definitely not lose him like he had lost Igneel. (ignored the lastpart of the question, as requested; for anyone curious, I think it’s fairlyobvious that these three stick together. XD)

32.- Do they ever get into trouble? Is it serious, or arethey just mischievous?

            Natsu andUltear are obviously the more mischievous of the two. Their troublemaking islargely smalltime, but sometimes, Natsu causes enough trouble that it affectsErza’s duties and reputation as Guild Master, so there’s definitely some “Punishment”that gets dished out occasionally. It’s just how it’s always been, though. Evenwith how rowdy he is, Erza can still rein in her dragon. n___n

38. - What are they like in the bedroom? Anykinks/fetishes/turn-ons? Anything they won’t do?

            Passionate.Things get heated pretty quickly, though Ultear is pretty firm in not lettingNatsu (or Erza) yank her hair or do anything super wild with her. She’ll allow Natsu’s instincts to take over andravage her body, but only after working him up first. In other words, she hasthis tendency to dominate at first and get him worked up, then she lets him have his hungry, lustful way with her nubile body,and makes damn sure he hits all the g-spots. n___n

            For Erzaand Natsu’s part, it’s not always about the lust, or even the lovemaking. Withthe two of them, they will do anything and everythingtogether, simply because they have this “need” for their bodies to bejoined together. Only when joined do they feel “whole”, and everything they dojust feels… right. Even whensomething Natsu does hurts at first, and Erza digs her nails into his skin, thepain eventually melts away, and she’s bouncing on him, hugging him for all she’sworth, and nibbling at his skin, leaving marks of her own. Natsu certainly hasno qualms leaving marks in inappropriate places on her that will beuncomfortable to answer later, when Gray or someone asks. XD

            A lot ofthe time, they’ll just take turns. Erza soon grows weary of Ultear “double-teaming”her, and it’s not like watching Natsu ravage Ultear is a bad thing… Okay, so she gets a little worked up when she sees thedazed expressions on Ultear’s face, and gets extra demanding when she renewsher carnal acts with Natsu, but that’s still a pretty good boon, yeah? Makesthem appreciate each other more~… A little jealousy goes a long way~.

39. - Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed whofirst?  When did they realize they werein love?

            As statedpreviously, Natsu and Erza were already in a relationship by the time Ultearstarted becoming part of the group. You wanna be technical, Ultear “did” peckNatsu on the cheek before Natsu and Erza were in a relationship, but that wasjust to set Scarlet off, and nothing was really meant. … Not ‘til later,anyway~. In this AU, Ultear and Meredy join Fairy Tail, and Zeref held offAcnologia on Tenrou, so there was no “seven year timeskip”, per se. Not atimeskip that the characters experienced; the readers still did, but nocharacters were “behind” any of the others. It was in the seven years beforethe GMG in X791 that Ultear started to become a part of the harem, and itlargely happened because Natsu had been so supportive in giving her a chance toturn her life around. Natsu was already aware that Ultear meant something tohim; he just didn’t think she reciprocated. Again, Erza wasn’t happy in makingit a harem, but the rough patch between them eventually ended, or at leastsmoothed out a bit.

40. - Any special memories? Do they have a special placethey like to go to?

            Erza willalways be thankful for what Natsu did for her at the Tower of Heaven, and allthe times he saved Fairy Tail and their allies. Similarly, Natsu cherishes allthe times that Erza smiles – and especially the times when Ultear genuinely smiles (not mischievous orforced). For Ultear, there was Tenrou Island, when Natsu (and Gray) helped showthe error of her ways; and then there was during the dragon invasion, when she’dbeen about to cast Lost Ages, and Natsu stopped her. Ultear still can’t getover how much Natsu cares for her.

            Specialplaces, they like to be out in the woods near Natsu’s home when they can.Ultear likes to bring them to Isvan, and Erza likes to revisit Akane Resort.

And Pyro answers this Ask with love~ ❤️ n______n

[ririban]

STRIVING FOR A WORLD ENVISIONED (Original Story)

So I wrote a short story for my Critical Thinking course’s creative project. I don’t usually go with such a story with such goody goody characters in any of my original works so this is actually a first for me. I thought that the story came out surprisingly well so I thought that I’ll share it here (don’t want it to end up among my less opened files...). I’d be pretty grateful if you guys’d give it a read :)

Agonized screams could be heard echoing through the empty streets. Black smoke was rising from the general direction of the screams. The town’s people were all gathered in the Central Square, the location of origin of both the smoke and screams. Two large pillars of wood had been erected and tied to them were two women, crying in pain as flames licked their bodies. ‘This is too cruel…’ ‘Aren’t they going too far?’ ‘It’s their fault! Not only did they go against the social norms for a low strata as theirs but they also took part in such activities!’ The crowd continued to murmur. Some pitied the two women, some did not. But regardless of their position in the matter, not one person lifted a finger to help them. They were too scared to do such a thing, afraid that they’ll receive the same punishment. Towards the back of the crowd, stood three people with dark expressions on their faces. ‘What had they done wrong?’, asked one of the three, a pretty little girl of around fourteen or fifteen who was standing on a box, being a little on the shorter side. She had long, straight dark brown hair tied into a low ponytail, which looked good with her short dress showing her slightly tanned skin. Her almond colored eyes directed a piercing glare towards a soldier who stood next to one of the burning women, standing on guard lest someone tried to free them from their punishment. Her thin lips pursed and her eyebrows drew together in what was a mixture of confusion and anger. ‘They’re punishing them for adultery after they were forced to marry someone they didn’t even love! The ones they loved were each other! Why can’t people just accept the fact that not everyone has to be attracted to the opposite gender!’ ‘That’s just how it is, kiddo’, spoke another of the three, this time a tall man in his early twenties. One could tell at a glance that the man was the older brother of the young girl, having the same hair, eyes and skin tone as her. ‘Those of the higher strata can have affairs with people other than their partners while the lower strata cannot. It’s ridiculous but that’s how it has been for a while now. And as for homosexuality, these people are just intolerant towards such things. They say that it’s unnatural. That nature made it so intercourse only between a man and woman can produce children. Since it doesn’t work unless the two are of opposite gender, it’s unnatural.’ The girl bowed her head in frustration. She knew all that. She knew that since the rich so called “higher strata” had enough money and power to bribe the lawmakers when they were accused of adultery, now it was as good as saying that they could always get away with it. It’s not that they were not considered guilty of anything, just that they had the judges and such eating out of the palms of their hands. And as for homosexuals, she knew full well how they were treated. When the rumor of her brother being interested in men had gotten out, she had seen the looks that people gave him. And she hated them. They looked at him like he was something disgusting. Like breathing the same air as him is poisonous. She felt her body shake with anger as she thought of those times. She was suddenly shaken out of her thoughts as a big, warm hand was placed on top of her head. She turned to look at the perpetrator and found herself staring at the third member of their little group. ‘Edward…’, she muttered. Edward, as he was called, grinned and ruffled her hair. ‘Why such a long face?’, he asked, his bright blue eyes bright with playfulness, despite the scenario of the location they were in. He bent down in front of her and looked up at her. ‘What are we fighting for, huh, Lisa? Are we not fighting for the freedom of the lower strata and the queer?’ ‘Y-Yeah…’, the girl, now known as Lisa nodded. ‘If we are the ones who end up losing hope, how can we hope to ever save anyone else, huh?’ Edward stood back up, at full height even taller than Lisa’s brother. He smiled at the other male, which on his creamy white skin framed by his midnight hair made him look as if he had come out of a painting. There was no doubt that he was beautiful. ‘Let’s go, Arthur. Lisa, what are you going to do?’ ‘I need to buy something so I’ll be back later.’ Lisa smiled and waved at her brother and friend as they walked away, hand in hand. Even though by this time the punishment was over, the people were still crowded in the square, talking amongst themselves because of which the two were not noticed. Lisa smiled sadly as she tried to imagine what it would be like to not even be able to openly show your love to your partner. Lisa walked away from the square, heading towards her destination. Heading in a direction away from the shopping district. ‘This is a city where everyone must pretend to be someone they’re not’, she thought to herself, ‘One must always follow the social norms set for the strata of society that they belong to. Even other than that, one must always act the same as their peers, like the same things that they like and do the same things that they do.’ She saw a girl nodding at another girl’s words with a strained smile and couldn’t help but think of her own childhood. She had lost her parents at a young age and had been raised by her brother, Arthur, as a result of which she ended up developing more masculine hobbies as compared to other girls her age. Rather than playing house, she was much more interested in climbing trees and pretending to be trying to survive in the jungles. But if she didn’t do the same things as others, she would have been ostracized because she was not normal. ‘It’s probably worse for big brother and Edward though…’, she thought, ‘Even though they love each other, they have to keep their feelings hidden from the world. I know that… but I’m still doing such a thing. I’m betraying their trust but… I must protect them.’ Lisa had reached her destination. She stood in front of a government building for a few moments until she was beckoned inside. A group of men, all known high ranking government officials, were waiting for her. On reaching them, she handed over some sheets of paper. ‘These are the details of the next public demonstration. The location and time are all specified here.’ The man closest to her took the sheets and looked them over, nodding. ‘Good. You may leave’, said he. With that, the group turned to leave but was stopped by a call. ‘Please wait!’, Lisa exclaimed, ‘You-You won’t hurt anyone, will you?’ The men smiled and one of them spoke. ‘You don’t need to worry. Even if things do get violent, your brother and his… boyfriend, I suppose, would not be harmed. Now, please leave.’ Before she could say anything else, the guard who had escorted her inside grabbed her arm and dragged her out. As the doors to the government building closed, Lisa came to a horrifying realization. ‘I made a mistake!’ She was wondering why the men had sly looks on their faces and remembered that she had jolted down a ‘likely to be the final movement’ on one of the sheets. Under Edward’s supervision, numerous demonstrations had been held over the past few months talking about a world where such pretenses are no longer required. People were all gathered in one place and influential members of their society would talk about how ridiculous all this pretending really was. They would talk about all the problems that were rampant due to citizens having to constantly pretend and about how much better life would be if everyone could be accepting about everyone else, about difference, and people could shed off the false masks they wore. Over time, more and more people had started to sympathize with their cause and with each additional sympathizer, the danger the government and higher strata felt of being overthrown grew greater. Even at the public punishment today, Lisa recalled hearing more comments against the execution of the women than in favor of it. This final public demonstration, which was to be held in the square, where all their festivities took place, on the day of the autumn festival, was supposed to be the final push. But, because of the information Lisa herself provided, all the government now had to do was prepare an ambush and everyone involved could be erased. ‘They’re going to kill Arthur and Edward!’ She felt herself trembling in fear, breaking out into a cold sweat. Her breathing got heavier as she realized the true gravity of the situation. ‘They’re going to die! They’re going to die and it’s my entire fault! Even though I swore to protect them! I-I should warn them! They’ll hate me but--!’ Because she lied, because she pretended to trust Arthur and Edward and support them while secretly working against them, even if it was to save them, she stood in the danger of losing them both. Suddenly, she jumped, feeling a hand on her shoulder. She turned around fearfully only to come face to face with her brother. ‘A-Ar…thur…’ Her throat felt dry. The thought that he might not be around her much longer crossed her mind again and her body reacted reflexively. She jumped up at him, throwing her arms around his torso. ‘I’m sorry!’, she cried, tears filling her eyes, ‘I only wanted to protect you! But now…’ Arthur gently hugged her back with a soft smile on his face. ‘Hush. You don’t need to worry. The information you gave them was incorrect’, he said. To say that Lisa was taken aback was an understatement. ‘Huh?’ ‘We knew what you were up to. You’ve been secretly giving them information about our movements haven’t you?’ ‘I--!’ ‘It’s okay. You wanted to protect us, didn’t you? Whenever the soldiers would show up, they’d make it a point to never hurt Edward or me. It’s because you made a deal with the government, didn’t you? That they won’t hurt us as long as you continue to provide them information?’ Tears had now started to flow freely down Lisa’s face. ‘I’m sorry!’, she cried again and again. ‘Ev-Even though oth-others were getting hu-hurt, even th-th-though you two are s-su-suffering right now, I-I just… I just didn’t want to be alone!’ She continued crying loudly, barely able to force her words out properly. Arthur and Edward quietly led her back to there home and sat with her until she calmed down. ‘Lisa, listen to me’, Edward said to her softly that night when she was about to fall asleep, ‘The two of us, we won’t ever leave you. We’re working hard right now to create a world where the three of us can live together happily. A world where people don’t have to act the same as others, where unfair social strata based on wealth don’t exist, where people are free to like what they like and who they like. It will be a world where people can freely be who they are. You won’t be subject to harsh words because your hobbies are a little towards the masculine side and Arthur and I won’t have to worry about execution for showing our love out in the open.’ ‘That would be a nice world to live in. But would that be possible?’ ‘Of course it would! Humans are kind, sympathetic creatures. They don’t actually want to hate. They’d rather love. And who doesn’t want to freely be their true self? Right now, the masses are on our side. These are people who don’t want to hate anyone because they are somehow different! These are people who embrace these differences and are willing to try and bring about a change in our society! And we will do it! The world all of us envision won’t be a dream for much longer!’ Lisa smiled and nodded sleepily at his words. He ruffled her hair, muttering a small ‘Good night’ and left the room. That night Lisa had a peaceful sleep, dreaming of her brother and friend walking in the crowded streets while holding hands, occasionally even kissing like she had seen many heterosexual couples do, and the girl she saw earlier that day playing with her friends while smiling and laughing from her heart.

[thenovelist101]

Wandered

Chapter Three-

The conflict of that day was not pretty. Soldiers ordered all people to go home and shut their doors. Mirai was hauled away by the two soldiers in dark blue uniforms. Vincent felt so helpless. His little sister was now being carried away to whatever hell was in store, but Vincent Rowan Merger was not the type to give up.

The group went into the courthouse, which seemed like a church for less holy reasons. On top of the large arched doors was a quote that said “To be punishable by death.”

Inside was marvelous. Vincent’s Village was known to be very wealthy in terms of money and industrialization, anything new always seemed to hit their home first. The floor was black marble and a large chandelier was at the top. You may have mistaken this for a slightly smaller ballroom rather than a place where criminals were punished. But that was where Vincent lived: a place that was far too extra.

Of course, where Vince lived wasn’t as grand. His house was big, but it wasn’t made of diamonds. There houses were made of wood rather than brick. The rich always seemed to get it all, didn’t they?

The Mayor seemed to look very much in distraught, particularly because his outfit and mood seemed out of place. He coughed into a handkerchief and yawned as if he just woke up for this village emergency ten minutes ago.

Vincent was now being seated next his parents all the way in the back, every adult talking over each other on what to do. One thing was for certain: no one had ever caught a child with magic. A baby nevertheless.

Vincent—who is still nine— would not understand the history behind magic people. Back in the older days magic babies would have been suffocated or killed off in an instant, however times have changed. No one had met a magic being in this village, so the topic was sensitive. Vincent could hear his parents frantically talking about how this affected their lives. Mrs.Merger was worried about the business and Mr.Merger was worried about their status. Has it even crossed their minds that Mirai will die? Vincent asked himself.

He felt like hiding, or being buried inside his Grandfather’s arms. The intensity of the moment felt too fake too cry, and she was still alive. He could hold onto that.

Suddenly a loud crash rang, and everyone’s attention went to the front. The Punisher was (as the title says) the one who founded people proven guilty or free, and what outcome the victims and criminals had in store. He wore a white mask, his face never shown for private reasons. In the line of Punishers, most deceased due to the vengeance of townsfolk, most didn’t live until 30.

“We have come to an agreement to not tell the Village about the situation. The children of this generation shall not be discouraged by the forces of magic, and live lives knowing of nothing of the abnormal sort.” Vincent was partially confused by this speech. What was so wrong with not being normal?

“Magic Hunters have scoured the area and approve the traces of magic.” Vincent’s mother led a horrible gasp. There was a terrible tension that Vince tried to ignore. He couldn’t help but wonder why everyone was so stupid. Then suddenly the two men in the dark blue uniforms were carrying Mirai inside a cage. She was lying on the bottom of cage sucking her thumb. Vincent’s jaw dropped. This was absurd! Never in his childhood years would he endure such craziness.

The Punisher cleared his throat. “The Mayor will sign this paper accepting that Mirai Merger will be punished by the person she claims to be, and-“ “WAIT!” Vince called. All eyes were glued on him. “Sit back down.” whispered Mrs.Merger. “No.” He snapped. Vincent turned to the men in the room. He swallowed hard. If he said the wrong things he may get hurt himself. “Surely... great superior ones... there’s another way we can fix this. I mean she’s only a baby. She hasn’t been exposed to anything bad.” The Mayor, Punisher, and soldiers looked to each other in confusion. Mirai giggled. “Maybe she can be useful.” Vincent said a matter of factly. Anything. Vince thought. Anything that can keep her alive.

“AGHAST!” The arched doors slammed open. A thin man with white hair and thin glasses opened the arched doors. It was a loud bang that everyone’s attention was brought too. “Ah! I’m late to the party aren’t I? Bring out the specimen!” Morecity’s finest Alchemist was here. Although he was rich for his breakthroughs and tragic failures, he was his very own outcast.

Mr.Merger stood up. “Sir Haberdash! I’ve heard so much about you!” “Yes, yes. I’m a very popular man if I do say so myself.” The soldiers dropped the cage and Mirai landed with a thud. The two men pointed their spears toward the cage ready for attack while the Alchemist fumbled with the lock.

Everyone waited quietly for the next actions. Vincent was so confused. Who was this crazy man? He seemed interesting, what would he do?

“Here we go darling, into my arms we go.” Mirai liked the old man. She pulled on his beard. Sir Haberdash laughed. He put on his monocle and looked at her body which tickled Mirai. To everyone else, this merely looked like an old man trying to make a baby laugh. The Mayor cleared his throat. “Sir, do you have any inquiries? We were about to give the punishment.” “Oh yes! I do have an observation.” The Alchemist sighed. The Mayor leaned forward. “That is?” Everyone waited anxiously for the next words. Even the soldiers looked expectingly towards the old man.

“She’s a baby!!” Sir Haberdash said excitingly. Mirai laughed, as if she and him were in some sort of bond. Even Vincent laughed, which was quickly stopped by the glares from his parents. The Mayor looked annoyed. “And your point is?” “Let’s experiment! I overheard that boy talk about keeping her, and I agree for his poor sake. If this baby won’t do any harm to this village, I will call this success. Bring samples of any genetic samples each year, such as hair and spit. Waste is not permitted. Makes me gag if I do say so myself.”

“But Sir, I don’t want their to be a child of magic in my village. It goes against the laws.” “Well I’m sorry Mayor but times have changed and this may be the breakthrough for a new type of anti-chemical. I could even fix what I did in the er- past.” The room went quiet. The Mayor grumbled and whispered something to the Punisher. The apprehensiveness of the room made Vincent tremble. He even felt his parents tremble. The Punisher hit the gavel onto the table. “Will you stop that?! We get it, you have a fancy mallet.” snapped one of the soldiers. “This is part of my job to ring an audience.” Punisher replied. “There is literally no audience!” “Everyone silence!” The Mayor yelled. Sir Haberdash sneezed. Mirai copied. The Mayor rolled his eyes. “The Punisher, as you were saying- DON’T use the gravel. There’s no need.” “Very well Mayor. It is now my humble decree that Mirai will not be sentenced to death and used for experimental purposes. The Alchemist, Mayor, and Punisher shall all sign this document.” Punisher held up the document for all to see. Vincent was elated. No, ecstatic. Words measure up to any equation of how overjoyed he was. However it was all short lived. Perhaps he was so happy that he forgot what happened after that.

——————-

Vincent woke up in his bedroom. Mirai was tugging at the side of his bedsheets. “Its night night.” She said. Vince ignored this for a moment.

His eyelids were heavy and filled with dust, exhaustion reaching every part of his body. Vince rubbed his eyes and grumbled at himself. He sat up, with his left arm feeling sore. He looked to see it wrapped in a gauze. His thoughts were scattered all over the place, and now he needed to add sudden injuries to his list.

Mirai’s whining to get on the bed became an annoyance, so Vince looked to her. “Hey Murray.” Murray: the name Vincent called her because of the way her name was spelt, it was difficult to find a nickname. It may have been rude to nickname her with a boy name, but it was a joke that she was okay with. He pulled her into the bed and she started rolling around. Vincent rolled his eyes and looked to his arm.

He unraveled the bandage to see a small little scar. His curiosity beat his confusion. “What...?” Mirai started jumping and falling on the blanket. “Mirai, do you have this too?” He pointed to the small scar. Mirai shook her head. “It’s a cut!” She said, trying to stand and then falling down on her back. The bed shifted. “Very funny Mirai...”

His bones were so sore, but he had to see what was going on. Mirai being hyper on his bed was a pretty good sign so far.

He swung his feet of the bed. Before his toes could reach the floor they lifted. “...what-“ He gasped. Vincent was in the mid-air. The air seemed to have failed him. But he was no longer on his bed or the ground. He expected to fall to his death yet he seemed to just levitate.

Mirai giggled and laughed. Her body was rotating around with her hair coming out in all directions. The blanket, lamp, and pillow levitated too. Vincent yelled in fear while Mirai giggled in happiness. His head bumped into the ceiling. He rubbed the back of his head.

“M-Mirai, put me down!” “Nu-uh!” She said, blowing a raspberry at him. Vincent sighed. Although this was sorta ‘fun’, he needed to get down. He put his arms on the ceiling and pushed himself down. His arm brushed into the pillow and grabbed onto the headboard of his bed. He pushed his feet firmly onto the mattress and felt the relief of being back on the ground. His body relaxed.

He turned to see Mirai falling. He jumped to the floor and caught her by her shirt. She laughed. The lamp dropped as well and caught it with a bare hand, and he yelped. The lamp burned in his hand and immediately threw it on the bed as a reflex.

The light in the flame caught flame to the blanket. In alarm Vincent put Mirai down and took away the lamp by its wooden base and put it on the table. He turned back to see the small flame die down. He slapped himself. Part of his blanket was now burnt, yet the flame looked like it was to burn his bed. Instead of growing, it disappeared. “Is gone?” Mirai asked. Vincent looked at Mirai, then at the blanket, and occasionally at the lamp several times. “Yeah...” Vincent was creeped out, that all this was made by her sister.

While he opened the door and it into the foyer, he wondered what she could when she was older. He went downstairs to see his mother at the door.

She was staring off into the distance, a bandage also was wrapped around her arm. Her face looked pale and her eyes seemed glossy. Vincent managed to make a smile.

“Mother...” He walked over to her when his mother pushed him to the floor. It was a great shock, and Mrs.Merger made her way upstairs. “W-what...” Suddenly the door creaked open and Mr.Merger came inside. His face looked zombie-like as well. He stepped over Vincent. Vince watched his father walk upstairs. A bandage was also being kept on his arm. “Father...” No response. Just the creaking of footsteps on the staircase.

There was a completely different aura in the house, Vince thought. It felt like his parents were less whole than they already were at the courthouse. He got up and walked upstairs. Her sister was on the top of the staircase. “Vincey, you okay?” “Yeah... let’s go to bed.” Vince said leading her into their room. Nothing makes sense, Vince thought. What is going on? That was the only question Vincent could never answer for a long time.

—————————

“Did you send them off?” A man with a white coat was packing syringes and a green liquors back into his briefcase.

The Mayor nodded. “Everything’s set and done. The baby is merely now a disaster by birth.” “As for the child?” The Mayor shrugged. He snapped his fingers for one of his servants to bring him his beer. “Let’s be honest, the amount of attention he’ll have is more than any wealthy boy could desire. He probably won’t think twice of her sister’s treatment. We must pretend their a normal family after all. Normal roles, normal family, normal life.” He took a swig. He held the jug out to the man.

“Want some?” “Um, no.” The man took his briefcase and adjusted his gloves. “It’s been so long since I’ve done these injections... almost feels nostalgic.” “Why yes. It must be very interesting to use similar concoctions for different purposes.”

The man with the white coat hesitated. “Does the Alchemist know about this?” “Of course not. And as far as we know he doesn’t need to know. I don’t want more failures in my village from that man.” The man nodded. “Yes Mayor.” He went to the door. The servant shuffled a little so he could reach the doorknob.

The man turned around. “One more question.” “Hmm?” “What if the girl... tries to run away?” The Mayor coughed and casted a wicked grin. “A weak little girl in a place surrounded with gates and surrounded by miles of forest? She wouldn’t stand a chance.” The man nodded. “Good point. Good night sir”. “Farewell.” The door closed.

[neverendinghorizon]

{CAL} Jack’s past for everyone that wants to read it!

The Galanardals

What started out as a small family of High Elfs, quickly grew into one of the richest families within the region of Argerhills. They quickly rose through their ranks with their mastery of enchanting and potion creation. Of course, very quickly they realised that they stood out due to not only their name, but their extreme level of skills in their arts.

Due to this, the earliest members of the Galanardals changed their name to make try and make them “blend in with human society” and drew back into some of the deeper woods on the continent. With that, the elven line of Highbridge finally came to be.

His Childhood

To Vorock and Lailin, Vilax’s birth was both a shock and a slight joy. Thinking that she was no longer able to bare children, to be given another child was a blessing. He was of course the middle out of 5 children, a younger brother and sister following in his wake.

As a baby, he would often be caught crying if he was left alone for too long. He would also found playing with his innate magic ability, unlike his siblings. Often his parents would watch with pride as this young child could make albeit minor illusions with little effort on his behalf.

But as he grew older, this changed.

His Adolescence

Growing up, that touch of magic seemed to almost fade from Vilax, as if he rejected that magic its self. And to a degree, he did. His father was constantly comparing him to his elder siblings, complaining on how his progress was slowing with each day. Eventually it just seemed like his mind shifted from this to the way of the shadow, the way of a Rouge.

The moment his hands first gripped a dagger, his mind felt at ease. Unlike the rest of his siblings, weapons training was his favourite part of his teaching. Rapiers, daggers and bows. All of these seemed to almost call to his hands, responding with precision the moment he called back.

This angered his father to end, and worried his mother to death. This was not the path of a trader, or even of a proud elven man. This was the path of a robber, or even worse, a killer. In an attempt to get him out of this line of behaviour, he was taken out on a trading mission to expand the family’s business options. As he was lifted into the cart with his sister, his mother and father taking positions in the cart in front of them, Vilax did not know that he would never see his home again.

The Fall

Not everyone had forgotten the Highbridge’s past, the power, money and influence that their older generations had created for the newer ones. Along their way to the capital of Argerhills, there was a smaller town by the name of Luxindale. The people there had been planning for a day when they finally left the safety of their estate, and to finally get revenge on the elves that had ruined the trade of their ancestors so long ago now.  

And so they struck when they had camped for the night. Drugged their guards, and struck down the Highbridge family that had travelled there. The young Vilax, waking up from his sleepy state, walked out for some water and found blood and flame to greet him. With no chance to fight back for himself, a blade cut along his eye and then sunk into his abdomen. In that moment, Vilax met death for the first time in his life, and this would not be the last.  

Re-birth

His eyes opened to pain all over his body. Not really understand the circumstances he had awoken in, until he reached down to the weight on his lower body. His little sister, dying as she sent the last of her energy through to him through divine magic. She had always been on the path to becoming an incredible cleric, but had wasted it all on him. Anger. Fear. Pain. Hate. All of this was all he had left as she breathed her final breath ontop of his form, instantly standing up and moving away from her. There was nothing left for him to go back to, he could not even remember how to get back home.

He was well and truly alone for the first time in his life. This just left him with one course of action to take… revenge on those who had torn all of this away from him. And so he worked, worked until he had enough money for formal training. Those who refused were instead intimated by this boy, who’s eyes had nothing but pain and anguish to stare back with.

Time passed, and with time came skill. An assassin was born form his broken remains, one who wielded his blades just as well as his proficiency in lock picking, stealth and lies. From this came a time where he was paid to aid a group of warlocks, in the process he was not only paid but given knowledge of the language of Abyssal. From this, and some well used clothing, he wore the identity of an undead sent by demons to purge this world of those who were unworthy, who could be swayed for a price. This earned him the title the Undead Assassin.

Finally, the time for his revenge came, oh did he relish in it. Slaughtering everyone who had defied and harmed his family, until finally he faced down a family who had just watched their father die. The youngest child ran to their form, tears streaming down their face, crying for them to stop…

and then it hit him.

He was just like them.

He allowed the guard to take him away in chains, realising that he deserved nothing better. The prison life suited him for a while, year after year of rotting away there thinking of what he had become… until finally the riot began.

Officers were slaughtered, men much worse then him ran amok, leaving him to just walk out of his cell and into the city outside.

From Vilax to Jack

When outside, he realised what these men were doing. Killing, slaughtering, pillaging… they were monsters. And so the empty shell of a man made his effort, killing those prisoners who dared to harm others. Eventually, even he was surrounded by the guards, being called the mastermind behind the whole thing due to those who had grown up despising this man.

One had seen his actions, and defended him. Defended him so much that when he ran, this brave guard held them off for him.

As the elf ran he let out a shout, “What’s your name?!“

”…Jack.“

And so it was that Vilax Galanardal was dead, and Jack Highbridge lived.

[devilsmagic]

butterflies around a flame (chapter one)

His plan to save his family is starting to come together, but Flynn can’t help but to be intrigued about the woman who wrote his journal. Deciding to kill two bird with one stone – learn more about Lucy and American history – he starts to attend her lectures. He knows he should stop, but he can’t help coming back.

Lucy is Rittenhouse royalty, although she doesn’t know what that means just yet. Her life is one monotonous day after another, until she spies a mysterious man sitting in on one of her classes.

[Set pre-series. Basically Timeless meets Romeo & Juliet, but our trash ship lives to tell the tale.]

AO3 link

It was a normal Friday afternoon on a normal week in a normal month. Lucy was standing at the front of the auditorium, conducting a lecture on the events surrounding the establishment of the Civil Rights Act. Her students were enraptured – well most of them were; some typing away at their laptops or tablets, while others couldn’t take their eyes off of the front of the room, at her passionate eyes and motioning arms. Of course there were the slackers, those only in it for the class credit, but Lucy counted roughly two-thirds of the room who were listening attentively, and that was more than enough for her.  

This was her favourite part of the day. The hours she spent with her classes, sharing her love for history with her students. Detailing how events years, decades, centuries in the past had shaped and moulded their reality. American wouldn’t be what it was without the American Revolution, President Kennedy’s assassination, the moon landing.   

It was during a particularly entertaining class discussion on the introduction of the Pill into American society and its effect on the Civil Rights Act amendment (never let it be said that Lucy’s lectures were dull) that she first noticed him. 

He wasn’t a student in her class, or at least he hadn’t attended the first two months’ worth of lectures, but he sat at the back of the room as if he belonged there. His eyes were glued to her, bodying leaning heavily towards the front of the room – towards her. Lucy got the sense that the subject matter wasn't the only thing that held his interest.

She could feel him analysing her every word, her every move. Suddenly she felt self-conscious in a way that she hadn’t been since her very first year of teaching. She cleared her throat before intervening in what was quickly becoming a very heated debate between a mansplaining hipster and the college’s head cheerleader, bringing the class back to focus on the topic at hand. She decidedly ignored his side of the room, refusing to look at the man again. Yet still she could feel his heated gaze on her skin.   

----  

That night, she inserted her key into her parents’ front door and let herself in. Throwing her keys onto the rack beside the door, she pulled out a Snickers bar from her handbag and hid it behind her back. Retracing her childhood steps, she made her way to the far end of the corridor where her parents were in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on their habitual Friday night family dinner.  

Her father sat at the island, tossing a salad with his special homemade vinaigrette while her mother stood before the stove, sprinkling a handful of chopped coriander on top of the perfectly cooked bolognaise sauce.  

“Hi,” Lucy announced as she walked into the room.  

Her parents echoed her greeting with smiles. She leant over to give her father a kiss on the cheek and then hugged her mother tight from behind. Lucy bit back a smile as she brought out the Snickers bar from behind her back and presented it to her mother.  

Carol laughed at the sight of her favourite candy bar dancing in front of her. “You’re spoiling me.”  

“You deserve it,” Lucy replied, giving her mother a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll set the table.”  

She had just begun to prepare the cutlery when her father spoke. “Actually, there’s something we need to discuss with you, Lucy.”  

Lucy looked up in time to see her parents share a pointed look. “Is everything okay?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.  

“Everything’s fine sweetie,” her mother leaned over and ran a hand through Lucy’s hair with a soft smile on her face. “It’s time we talked to you about something, that’s all.”  

“Okay,” Lucy shot her parents a look before grabbing the plates and cutlery and taking them into the dining room.  

They were well into their dinner before the subject was brought up again. Lucy had finished her meal and was eyeing the leftovers, trying to decide whether to serve herself a second helping of pasta. She grabbed her glass of wine and took a small sip instead.  

Her parents shared a secret look and Lucy sighed.  

“Alright, out with it. What did you want to talk to me about?”  

Her parents looked at each other again. Lucy’s stomach twisted in response and she was suddenly had she had decided against seconds.

“Your father and I,” he mother paused, “we’re part of an organisation.” 

“Okay?”  

“It’s an old organisation,” Ben took over, “we’ve been around since the late 1700s.”  

“Are you trying to tell me you’re part of the Illuminati?” Lucy deadpanned.  

“Funny, but no,” her mother replied.  

“The organisation is called Rittenhouse,” her father continued. “We’re an elite group. You can’t request to join; you have to be born into it.”  

“Born into it? So if you’re both members then I am too?” 

“In short, yes. Or rather, you will be,” her father took a sip of his own wine. 

“Why are you telling me this now? Is there something you need me to do?”  

“No. At least, not right now. It is tradition that the children of Rittenhouse members join the organisation as adults, but that doesn’t have to happen right away. We just want you to get used to the idea, to think about it.”  

“Okay,” Lucy said, trying to collect her thoughts. Her parents were making everything sound like a giant conspiracy theory. She couldn’t help but be unnerved by the entire conversation. “What exactly does Rittenhouse do?”  

“We have many aims,” Carol continued. “The most important is to help further each other’s interests; help other members to grow in the community.”   

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”  

“It isn’t. It’s a wonderful organisation with some truly powerful people. Thomas Edison was a member back in his day.”  

Lucy blinked. “Wow.”  

“But like I said,” her father moved to stack the dirty dishes, “we just wanted to tell you about it, make you aware that it exists so that when the time comes for you to join, you’re ready.”  

“Do I have a choice?”  

“It’s our family legacy, dear. You’ll see.”

----  

 That night, Lucy lay in bed, one word repeating itself over and over in her head.  

“Rittenhouse,” she said out loud, testing how the word rolled off her tongue, heavy in the air. “Rittenhouse.”  

Her head pounded with all the new information that had been crammed into it at dinner. Knowledge of a legacy older than the land she called home. A legacy she was supposed to be a part of.  

But despite everything her parents had said, she couldn’t help but wonder about what had been left unsaid. Why had her parents picked now to tell her about Rittenhouse? They’d clearly been a part of it for years, so what happened that made them want to include her? Did she even want to be part of Rittenhouse?  

Her mother’s vagueness when she asked about what the organisation did tickled at the back of her brain. She knew it couldn’t be anything terrible. Her parents were good people and there was no way she could imagine them condoning, or even being a part of, anything malicious. But still, she couldn’t help but wonder. And the wondering kept her up all night.   

----  

Coffee was the only thing on Lucy’s mind a couple of weeks later. The sun was shining but the wind was cold and she was so so sick of winter, even though it had yet to truly begin. She could practically taste the hot bitterness of the coffee; feel the warmth trail down her throat and deep into her core.  

The bell of the coffeehouse tinkled as she opened the door. It was much warmer than it was outside, and she could feel the heat blush her cheeks. She walked straight up to the counter, the café empty except for a few solitary figures huddled at their respective tables. It was still too early in the day for the morning rush, but she knew from experience that the café would get painfully busy in a few short minutes.  

She was standing at the counter, waiting for the pink-haired barista to make her double shot latte when she spotted him, the man who had been listening in on her lectures for the past few weeks. He always sat in the same spot, half in shadow, so she wasn’t able to get a good look at him. But she could tell by the way he was currently sitting, his intense gaze as he read from the notebook in his hands, that it was him. His dark hair was artfully dishevelled, longish strands falling down his forehead and obstructing her view of his face. 

It was a split second decision, but as soon as the barista placed her coffee in front of her, Lucy grabbed the cup and made her way over to his table.  

“Is this seat taken?” Lucy asked, startling the man.  

Surprise coloured his face as he quickly closed the notebook, slipping it into the large pocket of his coat.  

“Not at all. Please, sit.” He had a light accent; a trace of something Slavic coated his words.   

Lucy placed her cup on the table. Her stomach churned, angry at her impulsive decision to talk to this stranger. But it was too late to turn around and leave, and so she took the seat directly opposite him.  

“I’ve seen you in my lectures. Are you enrolled in my class?” Lucy’s head popped to the side as she studied him, her hand playing idly with the plastic lid on her cup.   

The man chuckled, dimples drawing across both his cheeks. Her heart gave a small thump and she took a deep breath trying to steady it. 

“No, I don’t attend this university.”  

“Oh? Then why have you been at the back of every single of my Friday night U.S. History classes for almost a month?”  

He shrugged casually. “I like to learn new things, and I’m very curious about the events that shaped America’s development.”  

“What you’re saying then is that you’re scamming yourself some free education?” Lucy smiled so he knew that she teasing.  

“I wouldn’t say scamming. I’m not getting a diploma out of this, am I?”  

“Touché,” she replied, taking a sip of her cooling coffee. “What made you choose my class?”  

“I like the way you teach.”  

Heat unfurled deep within her.  “And what is it about my teaching that you like?”  

The man, whose name she still did not know, smiled indulgently. “You’re very passionate. It’s clear to anyone who looks at you that you love history, love teaching it. History is important to you and you’re good at making me feel like it’s important to me too.”  

“You seem to know a lot about me,” she said, voice husky as she dug her fingers into the soft cardboard of her cup.  

“I’m very observant,” his voice lowered, as if he were sharing a secret with her.  

“And who are you, exactly?”  

The man’s face fell for a second, but the sly smile reappeared so quickly that Lucy wondered if she’d imagined it.  

“Gabriel,” he almost blurts. “My name is Gabriel Garcia.”  

A biblical name, a Hispanic surname and a Slavic accent. Pieces of a puzzle that just couldn’t quite fit together.  

“I’m Lucy Preston.”  

“I know.”  

“Of course you do.”  

Lucy was caught by his eyes, a strange grey or green, she couldn’t quiet decide. He was just as entranced with her, until he blinked and looked away, allowing her to come to her senses.  

“Well, I should get going. I have some prep work to finish before my classes today. I suppose I’ll see you on Friday, Gabriel,” she smiled as she stood, cup in hand.  

“Garcia.”  

“I’m sorry?”  

“Call me Garcia.”  

Lucy nods. “Don’t be a stranger, Garcia,” she says just before she walks out the door.