#so you can see why everyone thinks i would die immediately in a horror flick.

[moodr1ng]

ive always been told id be the first person to die in a horror movie bc im always like "omg yay lets use a ouija board" "we should totally do this evil summoning ritual we found online" etc. and all my friends are like "we shouldnt do that in case of the horrors" and im like boo this sucks. whatever though. i think its just another of my endearing qualities.

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Death Does Not Discriminate Between The Sinners And The Saints

It Takes And It Takes And It Takes

Part 2

Tony Stark x Male Demon Reader

Word Count: 3609

@charliedakotariley I hope this is all you wanted in your original request. Sorry I took so long to get to the actual stuff you put in your request. I hope you enjoy this!

-----------

Y/n didn't know what was going on. One moment he had been fighting Thanos's forces in Wakanda, the next, everything was getting weird. Enemies were turning to dust all around him. Worse than that, so were some of his allies.

It was bad enough that he had been separated from Tony, but now he wasn't sure if he would ever see him again. Who ever had done this was going to regret it if Tony was dead.

Y/n took a step, but before his foot even connected with the ground he was gone.

The next thing he knew he was waking up in the fields outside the city, alongside all the others. Everyone was pretty much in panic mode until a man with a deep red cloak started floating and took control.

Apparently they had been gone for five years, but more than that, there was an even bigger battle ahead of them than the one that they had just been in.

The floating guy did some odd form of magic that opened up a portal into another place. Y/n knew that then was not the time, but he felt himself go all giddy at the thought of real magic! Maybe after all this he could learn some!

The floating guy had introduced himself at some point, Y/n was sure, but he hadn't caught it and now didn't really seem like the time, so he just mentally dubbed him 'Floating Man' and moved on.

Then they were all rushing into battle, and Floating Man was not wrong. It was brutal, but Y/n couldn't help but feel he was in the wrong place. There was somewhere he needed to be, a tug inside that was pulling almost to the point of pain.

Y/n growled and dropped his perception filter, it was just draining him and he had more important things to worry about. He used the pause in onslaught to do a spin that sent a large swathe of enemies flying. Thank God for his tail, he had missed being able to give his all in battle.

In the space he had just given himself, he spun slower, looking for where it was he needed to go.

Y/n knew immediately exactly where he was meant to be. Tony was about to tackle Thanos.

Y/n smashed his tail as hard as he could into the ground and using the momentum of the shockwave caused by it, he leapt over the battlefield.

His eyes widened in horror as he watched Tony sass the mad titan. He had those damned infinity stones just about in place on his Iron Man glove. He would die if he tried to use them!

Y/n slammed into Tony at full force and wrapped himself around the stupid self-sacrificing genius just as he snapped his fingers. The energy coursed through the two beings and Y/n could feel it trying to overcome them. He knew there was a price for holding such power, but he wasn't about to let Tony pay it on his own.

He held on tighter and let out a roar, forcing himself to hold on and not be torn apart by the power of the stones.

"Don't you dare give up on me Tony! We'll go out of this world together or not at all, do you understand me?"

And then it was over. Thanos's armies were defeated, turned to dust, as was the mad titan himself.

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

It had been five years since the Avengers had managed to bring everyone back and Y/n still couldn't believe how lucky he had been. If he had been even just a second later in getting to Tony, he might not have made it.

As it was his heart had taken some serious damage, and Y/n hadn't come out of it scot-free either. He had aged noticeably.

Where he had looked near his mid twenties for centuries, he now looked to be closer to forty than thirty, but he would never consider the alternative. What were a few hundred years to him when he would get to wake up in Tony's arms because of his actions.

But he could no longer ignore the thing that had been bothering him for the last ten or so years. Tony was getting older. And, ignoring magical space stones and stupid ideas, Y/n was not.

Every morning Y/n could see more differences. Tony was aging, and normally that wouldn't be a bad thing, after all, it means that he's alive to have the chance to age, but it was becoming more apparent as the days passed, and Y/n couldn't help but realise that one day in the not so distant future he was going to be without Tony once again. Forever this time.

Everyday as he noticed the changes in Tony, Y/n became a little quieter, a little more withdrawn. He didn't want to waste the time he had left with Tony, but the spectre of death was looming ever nearer, and this time there was no other realm to break into to solve the problem.

Y/n had felt a momentary surge of hope when he remembered the gift the Queen of Asgard had promised him, but that was extinguished when he remembered what had happened to Asgard.

The sinking in his chest was getting worse. There was a pain that was consistent, a deep thrum inside that wouldn't go away. Whenever he thought about the future, or Tony dying it came back. He could sometimes forget about what was coming, but he would inevitably be reminded and the pain would resurface.

Y/n thought fleetingly of his more carefree days, when all he wanted was to cause as much chaos as he could, and he could just swan away from it without a backward glance. Tony had made him so much more than that, without even trying. He had made him feel things and there wasn't a day that went by when Y/n could bring himself to regret meeting Tony.

But that sweet joy and love was now soured by the passage of time, and Y/n wasn't sure how much more he could take.

How could the mix of love and time bring so much pain and joy. Why could he not just have the joy, why did the pain have to come with it?

Y/n was standing in their kitchen when it happened. He was hit with a wave of pain so deep he buckled at the feeling. He had just taken another message from Tony's doctor about not putting too much strain on his heart, and he couldn't help the hopeless feeling washing over him.

He could feel time slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to slow it down.

His heart gave a particularly hard thump as his emotions got the better of him.

Y/n felt a searing pain starting in his chest that was physical rather than the almost unbearable emotional pain he had been dealing with. He gasped as tears dripped down his face. He only noticed when a hissing noise came from the ground by his feet, that the tears weren't the normal salty water, but actual lava.

It clicked suddenly, what was happening to him, but Y/n couldn't think through the fugue of his feelings. He had heard of it in stories but never seen it in person. Demons don't normally fall in love, so they aren't affected by things like the deep depression of watching someone you love die when there isn't anything you can do.

The thing is, demon's hearts are literally made of super heated volcanic rock. Demons were never made to deal with such strong emotions, so when a demons heart breaks, it happens literally. Lava erupts from anywhere it can force it's way out, then it starts to break down the rest of the body. As far as the stories are concerned, there might be a way to save them before they have broken down entirely, but no-one had managed it yet.

The stories hadn't prepared Y/n for the pain, but after so long only feeling hopelessness and despair, Y/n welcomed this new pain. Finally, something had come to save him from the eternity that was a future without Tony.

He could feel the lava in the burnt out husk that used to be his heart flare brighter as another wave of heat seared through him. The lava was actually burning away the blood that had been running through his veins.

Y/n had to get out of there. He couldn't do anything about the trails of melted stone that his tears were leaving behind, but he couldn't let Tony see this.

He would be with him again in their next life.

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

Tony was starting to worry. He had been sticking a bit closer to Y/n lately because he had noticed the other man acting strangely. He seemed more and more sad as the days went by. This was something that Tony had needed to keep an eye on. He didn't want to lose Y/n to something that he could help to fix.

He hadn't thought much of it when the other man had rushed out of the room to grab the phone when it rang that morning, but it had been a while since then and Y/n hadn't come back yet.

He heaved himself off of the couch and groaned at the distance.

"God, it's a long way up these days."

He had only taken half a step in the direction his wayward husband had gone when Friday alerted him to a news broadcast of unusual activity on one of the islands off the coast closest to where they were at the moment.

He watched in disbelief as the news caster reported a seeming impossibility. The island was apparently home to a volcano, which was erupting. It was pure luck that it was an uninhabited island, but there would be far reaching results of the eruption.

Tony turned up the volume with a flick of his wrist.

"This is particularly baffling for scientists everywhere as this island has never been on anyone's radar for volcanic activity. Apparently this is just another case of nature getting the better of our understanding of science, which will have our scientists scratching their heads for decades. We have managed to get some footage of the eruption from a distance, and it is a truly harrowing sight."

Tony was transfixed. It really was awe inspiring to see something like that right in front of him. He couldn't help but feel a sinking sensation. There was no way that it was a coincidence that his literal demon husband was missing right as this was happening, right?

"Y/n?"

Tony made his way into the kitchen, calling out for this husband at the same time. He was getting really worried now, but was trying to calm himself. Everything was probably fine.

Tony tripped over something and landed sprawled on the ground. He looked around to find the offending item, but was met with the sight of their kitchen floor melted in a trail that led right out of the room.

Tony followed it with mounting fear. It led out their front door. After that the trail got further apart the further away from the house it got.

Tony swore as he summoned his suit. He hated being right.

---------

Tony was starting to think that fate hated him. Okay, to be fair he couldn't fault fate for sending him Y/n, but the demon could be the biggest drama king. Yes, Tony was aware that that was kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, but that didn't change the fact that it was true.

He was circling the island now, because of course the trail of fire and melted ground had led him there.

Tony let out another string of expletives as he flew close enough to land.

The island looked like what Tony though hell would look like. There were puddles of lava everywhere, and anything that wasn't a melted pile of rock was on fire or long ago burnt to ash. Tony was sweating in his suit, but he also knew that taking it off, even just the head piece, would be a death sentence.

"Y/N!"

He yelled as loud as he could, which, with the suit already amplifying his voice, was pretty loud.

There was movement from something off to his left.

Tony shifted to face it and was confronted with a sight that broke his heart. His sweet husband, always so concerned for Tony, was clearly breaking apart.

He had burn tracks down his cheeks where his skin hadn't been strong enough to withstand the lava. Y/n looked every bit the demon he had been when he first showed Tony what he was. He must have dropped the perception field once again, because Tony could see all of his demonic features. The horns which had once been shiny and sharp enough to gore even super soldiers, were now dull and flaking, just as broken as the man they were attached to.

Tony could see Y/n's chest glowing with the reds and oranges of fresh lava from where he stood.

Tony was frozen. He didn't know what he could do to fix this. But there had to be hope still, Y/n had recognised his voice even if he might not have understood the word.

"Stay there! I'll be right back. We're going to fix this, don't give up on me yet Y/n!"

After some quick thinking, Tony managed to concoct a plan that was only semi-crazy.

He flew as fast as he could in a tight circle just close enough to the ocean to encourage some of the water to form into a whirlwind of water and air. Once he had enough (he hoped), he sent it flying in the direction of his husband and the island.

He stood back and watched, sick fear pooling in his stomach as he saw the water hit. There was intense hissing and a fog filled the air in response to the water coming into contact with such a hot substance.

Tony couldn't wait any longer, so he landed as close as he could get to the place Y/n had been standing.

He found him laying in a puddle of water staring up into the fog. Tony removed the suit's head piece and both gauntlets, discarding them without a second thought.

He reached out to Y/n with shaking hands.

"What were you doing? What happened?"

Y/n turned deadened eyes on Tony.

"Time is a cruel Master who we must all answer to."

Tony had no idea what to do with that, but he really didn't like the look in Y/n's eyes.

"Yeah, but not today. You see that bastard, you kick his ass, you hear me?"

That got a tiny spark of life back into Y/n's eyes.

"Tony? How?"

Tony could have sobbed in relief. Y/n was coming back to him.

"Hey babe, I should be asking you that."

Tony pulled Y/n up into his arms. It was awkward with him still mostly in his suit but he wasn't about to take the time to remove it. He had a husband to bring back from the brink of something he still didn't understand.

"You gonna be alright?"

Y/n just burrowed into the side of Tony's neck.

"You scared the crap outta me, Y/n/n. What was that?"

Tony let Y/n pull back just enough to be able to see him. He wasn't letting the other man out of his arms for a long time after this.

"You can't deny it Tony, time is passing. I just couldn't bear the thought that you will pass so long before I will."

Tony felt his brow crease in confusion, but he waited for his love to continue.

"As a demon I have a much longer life span as you know. When you die I will be all alone. You'll be gone, forever. How am I supposed to live without you now that I know what it's like to live with you?"

Tony felt his heart breaking for Y/n. He could understand where he was coming from, but that still didn't explain this situation. He opened his mouth to question him when Y/n continued.

"Demons don't normally feel emotions as strong as love, and the loss that comes with it. We aren't built for it. Our hearts can overload. When that happens, they literally melt inside us. I'd been told the stories, but to be honest I didn't realise there was any truth in them."

He took a shuddering breath.

"When I realised what was happening, all I could think was that I couldn't take you with me when I died from it. So I left."

Tony let out a long breath.

"Okay, there's a lot to unpack there, but a steaming crater in the middle of nowhere isn't the place to do it. Let's get you home."

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

True to his word, Tony had barely let Y/n go since they got back home. He had whisked him through the kitchen with barely enough time for him to take in the ruined floor before he found himself on the couch wrapped in a blanket with Tony wrapped around that.

"Next time, tell me. Next time something is bothering you like this, let me in. There might be something I can do to help, but even if there isn't, we would still shoulder that problem together. There's nothing I would rather do, than try to help lighten the load."

Y/n vaguely registered the words. They sounded familiar to some distant corner of his mind, but he was still feeling pretty numb.

"Together, or not at all," Y/n echoed his words from that long ago battle.

He was rewarded by a soft squeeze from his husband.

"Exactly. Now, before you get all mopey again, there's a message from someone in New Asgard on the machine."

Y/n's head snapped up. There was no way it could be related to this.

He turned to Tony, feeling hope well up in his heart.

----------

In the years since Valkyrie had become ruler of New Asgard, the kingdom had flourished. Perhaps their greatest feat had been the resurgence of magic in their peoples. Battle prowess had been the sought after trait for centuries on Asgard, but now they were on a planet that wasn't capable of inter-realm travel. There was nowhere to go and fight monsters to prove their worth.

Once they realised that their new ruler was trying to bring them back to their former glory instead of just making sure that they survived, they began to take charge of their own lives. They dusted off old tomes of magic that had somehow found their way into the belongings people had managed to bring with them, and soon the vast majority of them were once again using magic.

The reason this had been their saving grace, was because a young woman, a descendant of Idunn, had been playing around with her magic and followed a strange magical signature.

What she had found had brought the people of New Asgard hope. Hope that they could once again be great. She had found a single golden apple, buried in the wreckage of the Avengers compound. It had been protected by a spell strong enough to save it from the battle of Thanos, as well as the passage of time.

A note had been rolled up and stuffed into the box with it.

"Man of Iron,

The Queen of Asgard has bequeathed the enclosed item to you upon the occasion of her death. You are receiving it now, due only to the petty revenge it is to give such a boon to a human. Be grateful it is more pleasing to me to disobey the All-Father than to seek revenge on you for your part in my imprisonment on Asgard.

Loki, Ruler of Asgard."

The young woman had immediately taken the box, note and all, to Valkyrie. The decision would ultimately be up to her of what to do with it.

Valkyrie had decided that the needs of her people could be served at the same time as fulfilling the late Queens last wishes. It would just take a little longer to get it to Stark.

They had used the seeds to re-grow Idunn's orchard of golden apples. The Aesir would be able to retain their long life after all. Now that they had an entire orchard, they had enough for their people as well as fulfilling Queen Frigga's last wish that Tony Stark be granted the long life of an Aesir.

----------

When Y/n and Tony arrived in New Asgard they were amazed at the transformation the previously small fishing village had gone through. Y/n smiled at the area. It would never be the same as what they had lost, but they had the opportunity to build themselves a new future and they had taken it with both hands.

Y/n stood in the orchard, tears running down his face as he held out a single golden apple to his husband.

Tony had been unsure when Valkyrie had explained about the apples, how they were the source of the Aesir's long life and more sturdy bodies.

He hadn't known how he would feel about living a longer life than all the other people he knew, but as he stood in front of Y/n, looking at the life he was offering him, he realised he would never choose anything else. As long as he had Y/n he could survive anything.

He stepped forward and accepted the apple.

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 55- Hell’s Chosen

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

The hermits discover a dark past to their paladin knight, does this change their perspective of him, or will it save their unlikely ally? 

Warning: Some description of wounds (i think)

________________________________

All eyes were on Wels. Very few had a look of knowledge. TFC, for one. But Tango’s visible confusion gives way to a much softer, quieter version of the hellfire wizard. “Helsknight? You mean the marauder from years ago? But he died.” 

“You’re right, he did. And I killed him. I buried him so deep inside me, and vowed to do whatever I could to be a better man. When Helsknight died, Welsknight was born.” Wels’s fingers are tight in the bloodstained fabric, knuckles turned white as he’s forced to relive, to speak of his dark past. 

“No no no no. You’re joking, right?” Doc shakes his head. Even he feared Hell’s chosen knight. Wels can’t possibly be that same person. Wels, a quiet, collected paladin with the heart of gold and courage of a lion. “I mean...no one ever told the story of Helsknight with a tail.” 

“Less limbs to get cut off if it’s protected by armor.” Wels points out, flicking the lionesque tail. “You want proof? What was the last time anyone ever saw Helsknight?”

Doc cocks an eyebrow, then waves his hand. “Hels and his band of bad guys attacked one of Ventus’s- the God of Judgement- temples. But the attempt was failed, and Helsknight himself was left behind as he bled out...from his neck…”

The entire group stares as the scar that Wels reveals, running from his collar to his clavicle. TFC doesn’t stare like the others. He’s known all of this the whole time. Tango shakes his head. “But you’re nothing like Helsknight. He murdered and killed for fun, to cause chaos and bring hell onto Lairyon. Wels, you’re…” 

“A changed man. Just like Apatia can be- if you give him the chance. Like the woman who healed me did, like X and TFC. Tango, if you don’t let Apatia give his chance to change and rectify what he can, then you can’t let me be any different. You can’t be a hypocrite and pick and choose.” From between Wels and Tango, Apatia groans. The blood has stopped, Ren’s work healing leaving a sloppy open wound behind. 

Apatia was pale, paler than he already was. Almost the same color as Grian, as the latter continues to recuperate from the torture he faced. But unlike Grian’s shallow, soft breaths, Apatia’s runs ragged and harsh. His jaws are clenched, fighting off the pain. With the remaining bandages and healing salve, Wels wraps up the stump of Apatia’s tail fin. 

Tango and Doc are still quiet, trying to comprehend the news that’s been delivered to them. It all makes sense, but their eads still struggle to put the two completely different personas together. As if they’re different people all together. 

Everyone knows who Helsknight is- was. He appeared as if from nowhere, like a demon spawned straight from hell. And immediately, he began reeking havoc. His band of villains attacked and raided. They were more than just some lowly bandits, or even a mafia. Helsknight was a villain, killing without mercy, without remorse, and without discretion. It wasn’t until their botched attack on that temple that ended the reign of terror that Hell’s chosen knight left on Lairyon. Just as quickly as Helsknight appeared, he faded into nightmares and horror story. Kids were told to watch out for the knight with one eye, because he’d pluck out their own to replace his. 

But Welsknight? He’s calm and collected, if a bit snarky. Even when battling even the husks, he always hesitates to strike a killing blow if there’s a potential to save the life instead. Wels is jovial, and a great baker, and tells great stories. Sure, he’s a great knight, but Tango once saw Wels cry over a dead fish he found at the beach. He’s a paladin, not a barbarian. 

Helsknight supposedly died years ago. Welsknight joined the hermits a few years back. Though there’s a span of time in between the day Lairyon celebrated the defeat of Hels and Wels following TFC back to Eremita, it begins to all make sense. There's a reason why Wels never talks about his past. Never visits home. Never explains how he got many of his scars.

Like puzzle pieces, it all falls together and paints a picture. Doc’s jaw clenches. As much as he hates to say it, or even think it, Wels is right. If a monster like Hels can become the man before Doc today, then maybe, just maybe , theres hope for Apatia. 

So long as he lives. The hermits are so focused on Apatia, their argument on whether he should live or die, no one notices Grian rouse from the darkness that still grips him. No one noticed the sky open up, both in Grian’s eyes and the sky beyond the windows. No one notices him weakly clamber out of bed, nearly falling flat on his face, and walking over to join them in the group. 

“What are we on about?” Even when he speaks up, the other hermits are so used to his voice that it hardly registers. 

“Welsknight was once helsknight, and whether we should save Apatia’s life or not.” Tango shrugs, his red eyes glaring down at Apatia with distaste. He still hates the man, but at the same time… they’re supposed to be the heroes. 

“As your resident healer, I think we should. But...I’m not sure why he’s here in the first place.” Ren looks up, realizing who is speaking, and scoops Grian into his arms. His tail wags loud and heavy, banging against the other hermits with every oscillation. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, my dude!” Ren only sets Grian down when TFC reminds him that Grian is still working towards regaining his life, his color. He’s still slightly unsaturated, his skin missing the tint of pink, the red of his robest boarding the color of dried blood. Ren sets Grian back on the bed, trying to force the angel to rest. But now that Grian’s awake, he’s ready to cause trouble and start his day- even though he has no clue what time it is. 

“What’s going on? I...I don’t remember much. When did you guys save me? Why is Apatia here? How did you find me?” The questions fall like rain in a storm, impossible for the hermits to catch every last drop. 

It’s TFC that manages to slow the downpour. “Hold on, hold on Grian. Why don’t we start from the beginning? We’ll fill you in on everything, in time.”

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

All the hermits, once again under the safe canopy of the massive oak tree in their guild hall. Grian is wrapped in a warm, soft blanket- knitted by Stress- and a mug of warm apple cider rests in between his pale hands. “I can’t believe you guys came for me.” 

“Of course we were gonna save you, Grian.” Scar practically laughs at the mere idea of leaving him behind. But for Grian, who’s been kicked out of so many guilds for his troublemaking, it really shows how much they care. 

A rumble of agreements follow, and after a few more minutes of quiet comforting, it’s Grian himself that changes the subject. “Dolios is getting more powerful by the minute. I could feel all the energy flowing through those leylines, into him and that monster, Eurynomos. We can’t delay this any longer. Dolios has to go down.” 

“But we don’t even know how. We can destroy as many crystals as we want, but he’ll just keep making more. He has more power than a bunch of lowly mercenaries. He even beat Apatia, one of his own Councilmembers. One of the strongest guildmasters in all of Lairyon.” BDubs points out. Everyone goes silent as they remember the man in their infirmary. The stranger- he’s not a hermit, yet he’s among them. 

Grian looks up, pale face and hollowed eyes alarming for the hermits. He hardly looks to be among the living, but less like a dead man walking like he was before. “Xisuma, your brother mentioned something about the ancient ones. DO you think there could be a clue for us there? In the past?” 

X sighs, leaning back in his chair as he considers the question. “If the answer to ending Dolios’s dark reign truly lies in the past, then we’d have better luck finding the answer ourselves. Thousands of years, eroded by time, by kingdoms and cultures rising and falling, not to mention the disappearance of the ancient ones. There’s a reason ancient magic is dead- because none of the books teaching it survived.” 

“There’s one person we know who has studied the ancient ones for years.” Joe’s voice cuts through the crowd, looking around. Every other hermit is lost and confused, but Joe can see the mixed emotions raging in Xisuma’s eyes. “Besides Ex can take care of the island, of Apatia while we’re searching.” 

“Ex chose to leave Eremita. Why in gods’s names would he want to come back, to help us?” X growls. 

“Because he’s your brother. He helped us save Doc. He’s been helping us, helping all of Lairyon- in his own weird, Ex way. He’s not the villain here, he’s your brother.” 

X clenches his jaw. The scar over his eye burns at the memory of their fight. The words he said to his brother, and the worst responded in kind. Xisuma still received letters from Ex, but he only opened them when Cleo’s cider had clouded his better judgement. And he never responded. 

But he also remembers the moment, after years estranged, he laid eyes upon his twin brother, crammed into the bookstore he was running. The moment of relief, of happiness to see Ex alive and well. Their identical faces, like mirror images of one another. His hair pure white, like the bright sun in the sky. Even now Xisuma remembers how often he’d complain he could always find Ex hairs on his clothes. 

And that Ex helped them save Doc. All these years fighting, Xisuma can’t believe he’s going to be the one to concede defeat. But for the fate of Lairyon, he guesses he has to. He pulls off his mask, turning it over in his hands, running a thumb over the scratched out symbol. He swallows his pride, and stands. “I’ll get the letter to Phoebe. What’s one more stranger to the island?”

[no-worshiped-roads]

Though id take a crack at a short piece for @wisteriarotting and their horror au

Prepare yourself for the angst

So i know you said besides zuke and kliff, gigi would likely be the only other survivor

i kind of wanna include aunty and kayane

Anyway this is set after they’ve beaten all the artists and are getting ready to leave

Zuke walked out the front doors of NSR tower, the dull light in the city briefly stinging his eyes. The sun hasn’t shone in the city in a long time, but it was still brighter outside than it was in the darkness of NSR tower. His body was battered, exhausted, and sore beyond belief. But it was over. All they had to do was run for the main gates, finally leave this cursed city behind.

With everything and everyone they’ve lost, it would be a blessing. His companions trailed behind him, though Zuke only listened and didn’t turn around, no his focus was on the pathway that would lead them out. West flashed across his mind and he winced, wiping at his eyes. He was grateful that he had been able to reconcile with his brother, but it still ripped his heart apart that the very next thing had to be a final goodbye.

Zuke remembered how Yinu’s mother had been burying all the artists, giving them a funeral as best she could. She had known them all to some extent before the infection... yeah. She had even been kind enough to give his brother one, and would probably come collect Tatiana’s body soon. Zuke had been so grateful for her doing that for West.

He was also grateful to Mayday for being the one to put West down. He’d never would have been able to do it, but he didn’t to leave him suffering in a body that was no longer his either. He glanced behind him to see his companions. Kliff was right behind him, followed by Aunty who was helping Kayane and Gigi not fall behind. But then there was May, who was definitely trailing behind.

At first Zuke thought maybe she was just tired, after all she was as beaten as him. But he noticed it was like she was walking slow purposely. Her head was downcast, and she was gripping her arms in way that tucked her hands mostly out of sight.

“May? You good?”

Upon Zuke calling her name the others stopped to look at Mayday who had paused as well. Her body was trembling and she was breathing hard. Mayday still didn’t look up, but shook her head ‘no.’ Aunty took a step towards her and she quickly, clumsily, stepped back. Away from them.

“I’m sorry.”

It was said so suddenly and quietly that it didn’t really register to Zuke what she had said at first.

Kliff suddenly spoke next to him “What do you-”

Before he could even finish that sentence, Mayday suddenly stiffened like she was in pain.

And then she ran.

“Wh- MAY?!”

Kayane’s surprised shout snapped Zuke out of his stupor, and he ran after Mayday. Despite something being wrong, the girl was still able to run full speed. He could hear footsteps behind him as the group tried to keep up. Mayday dodged and weaved around trashcans and broken pieces of buildings and other structures in her way. Eventually she ducked down an alleyway, and Zuke found himself having trouble keeping up with her.

He hit down the alley just in time to see Mayday dive into sewers. Hearing the footsteps stop behind him, Zuke turned around.

“I’m gonna go after her, go ahead to the main gate.”

Not waiting for a response, Zuke climbed down the ladder into the sewers. He flicked on a small flashlight he had to see better in this darkness. His footsteps echoed in the tunnels as he followed May’s footprints.

“May!” He called out, his voice echoing back at him.

“Come on where are you?”

Sudden movement down a tunnel to his left had him shine his flashlight down it. He just barely caught a flash of red as it turned left at the end of the tunnel. Taking off after her once again, Zuke kept talking.

“May why are you doing this?”

“Just go away Zuke, get out of Vinyl City while you still can.”

“Not without you!”

“You have to!”

“Bull! Come on lets go!”

May said nothing as they kept running around the tunnels, Zuke getting frustrated with her.

“Why do you suddenly want ti stay?”

“I don’t.”

“Then come with us.”

Mayday paused on a ladder, halfway up to an open manhole. Her body shook and her voice cracked as she spoke.

“I can’t. Not anymore.”

Mayday rapidly ascended the rest of the ladder and was out of the sewers. As Zuke climbed after her, he heard startled shouts. Upon reaching the top and lifting himself our, he glanced up to see Kliff, Aunty, Gigi, and Kayane.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We never left, you all circled.” Gigi answered.

“Why didn’t you go to the gates?”

“We weren’t about to leave without either of you.” Kliff told him.

Zuke shook his head “Well where did May go?”

“Back to the NSR tower, but wait man-“

Zuke ran on ignoring whatever else Gigi might have said. He managed yo reach the tower and pushed his way through the doors. Mayday stood just ahead of him, hunched over, breathing even harder than before.

“You need to leave Zuke. It’s not safe here.”

“Yeah, I know. So why are you here?”

“I mean it’s not safe for you.” She paused glancing over shoulder a bit. “Any of you.”

Zuke looked behind him to see the others just outside the tower’s doors.

“And it is for you? Why are you acting so weird?”

“Just go, please.”

“Not without you!” Zuke stepped forward.

“Uh Zuke there’s something you don’t-“

Gigi was interrupted by Mayday “I told you I can’t leave anymore!”

“Why?!”

“Zuke wait!” Kayane this time. He still ignored her.

“I, I just can’t. I-“

Zuke grabbed May’s arm only to find himself shoved back. He lost his grip on her and stumbled.

“Don’t. Please Zuke. I’m going to be gone soon.”

Zuke startled at that and shone his flashlight on her to see better in the darkness. Maydays stared back at him sorrowfully. Scales had begun growing on her arms, and her feet had begun to change shape to something more animal like. Her breath rattled out in huffs and he could see her teeth looked mangled as they also started to change shape.

No.

Nonononono.

Not her, not Mayday too.

“When?”

Zuke thinks it was Aunty who spoke, but he was too lost in his spiraling thoughts to be sure.

“Since Sayu. It was small at first. Bad headaches, body pain. I just chalked it up to the horrible noises and the fights though.”

Mayday coughed, a strange sound accompanying it from her lower throat.

“But then with Yinu and 1010 my skin started to hurt and burn. Till i noticed the bumps. By the time we got to Eve scales started forming. I grabbed those shoes for a while when I noticed my feet changing.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Zuke finally found his voice.

“Because you would’ve stopped trying to escape.”

“Go, please.”

“But-“

“I SAID GO!”

May suddenly shoved him out the doors and slammed them shut. Zuke fell to the ground, hearing a latching sound. He immediately jumped to his feet and banged on the now locked doors.

“May don’t do this!”

“I have to Zuke. This isn’t curable, you know that.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

“No!”

“Like hell I’m gonna just leave you!”

“You are not throwing away your life just mine is done! Do you got that dammit?!”

Zuke paused at that. May spoke again before he could respond.

“I’m sorry. But you need to go. Our time together was great, and I wish it could keep going. But it can’t. I’m finished. But you’re not. Live your brother’s life, mine too. Do what we didn’t get to. Please, for me?”

“I-I can’t just-“ Zuke slammed his fists on the door, leaning his forehead on it.

“Aunty.”

Zuke suddenly found himself hoisted over Aunty’s shoulder, as she began to walk away.

“Wait no what are you-“

Aunty looked at Kliff who hadn’t moved.

“I’ll carry you too if I have to you better get moving.”

Kliff paused for a while longer before dragging his feet, stumbling, and glancing back again and again till the tower was out of sight. Zuke limply lay on Aunty’s back as it really sinking in that May was going to die. Sure her body would still be there but eventually it wouldn’t be hers anymore. She would just be the infection. And she was gonna die alone.

Zuke didn’t even realize how long everyone had been walking until he saw large gates shutting vehind everyone.

They finally made it out of Vinyl City.

I may make another small companion piece from May’s POV tomorrow. But for now, bed.



[petitelepus]

His Beloved And More, Part 6

You always live in Brainstorm's mind... Unless...?

WARNING: Blood and Gore.

When Brainstorm finally answered his crewmates' attempts to ask about the alien rodent onboard they were surprised to hear that the usually so cowardly seeker had personally taken care of the pesky little thing. Ultra Magnus offered to send someone to clean the mess in Brainstorm's habsuite, but the flier had refused, claiming that he would do it by himself. After all, a little alien blood wasn’t the worst thing at the moment.

The crew was informed about your capsule's disappearance, but no words were said that you were dead, everyone came to that conclusion themselves even if captains tried to keep their hopes up. Many close friends of yours and Brainstorm’s came to pay their respect to him. To everyone's great shock and confusion, the scientist greeted everyone with optics filled with joy and mirth.

”What are you saying? She is alright!”

”She never left! She would never leave me!”

”If she didn’t leave then she can’t be gone!”

”Everything is going great! 

Many mechs brushed off Brainstorm’s behavior with the conclusion that the poor mech had completely lost it and left, not wanting to spend their time consoling a mech stuck in a loop of false beliefs, but mechs who truly cared stayed beside the scientist.

Some like Nautica smiled sadly and hugged him long and hard, assuring him that it was alright. Brainstorm happily returned their hugs and agreed with them. Some offered help like Perceptor and Rung, the first one trying to talk hard sense to his colleague and the second one offering his private time for scientist to use any time he felt a need to talk about anything in his mind. One was brushed off and another one was kindly taken but never used.

Brainstorm kept going on with his life on board like you were never gone and you really weren’t! You were always there talking to him, assuring him how you still loved him despite everything that had and was happening! Others couldn’t hear you and they would look Brainstorm sadly when he spoke to you, but no one got involved. Nautica, Chromedome, and Rung tried, but the flier had quickly left, remembering that he had something cooking in his habsuite.

Humans were so far away from Cybertronian technology, but unlike Cybertronians, the little organic species had already practiced cloning living beings. Now Cybertronians never had such a need for that, but Brainstorm was happy to learn another way to do science! Especially if he got to hacker his way to Earth’s super-secret laboratories and computers! He put everything he learned to use and by that use, were you reborn again before him!

Brainstorm looked longingly at your glorious peacefully resting form in a tank full of chemicals to help your cells to grow. Just a week ago you were smaller than those Earth beans you sometimes flicked at unsuspecting mechs, a tiny ball of molecules and cells multiplying. And now, you were a glorious young woman again. A little younger than you really were with longer hair, but Brainstorm couldn’t wait any longer to be with you again physically.

He was so giddy as he drained the blue liquid off from your tank, looking at how your body slowly sank to the bottom of the tank, instantly shivering and convulsing in cold. Brainstorm opened the tank and removed tubes from your body. Without a tube giving you air, you would have to use your own lungs and wake up.

The reaction was instant, your eyes shot open and you started coughing and wheezing for air, your hands and feet flipping from one direction to another in shock. Brainstorm smiled, seeing the panicked look on your eyes as you tried to gasp for breath. He gently massaged your back and held you up. Once your breathing finally calmed down, he could hear it, your voice, clearer than before.

"Oil cake…” You didn’t react to his voice so he gave you a little nudge and tried again. ”Sweet spark, it’s me… Your brilliant Brainstorm…”

You looked up at him, your eyes so big and shiny and your sweet little lips slightly parted. He grinned in joy and looked at you lovingly. ”My little sweet spark… You look so beautiful… Just as I remembered…!”

Your lips moved and Brainstorm got excited. Were you trying to talk to him? Tell him something? Your first words?

A small squeal managed to slip past your lips before you choked and there was a splash and Brainstorm’s spark froze as blood splattered all over his hand. You kept coughing up more blood, the crimson liquid gurgling as it streamed from your throat to your mouth and all over him.

Brainstorm could only watch in horror how you slowly choked on your own blood, your body slipping past his servos on the ground and twitching before you weren’t moving anymore. The scientist sat there on his habsuite floor with your body and his hopes and dreams once again destroyed.

'It’s alright Brainstorm… You tried and it was your first time. You can try again.'

You were right. This piece of meat wasn’t you. It just looked like you. He could do much better. This was just a chance for him to make progress and find out what went wrong this time. With that in mind, Brainstorm lifted the body from the floor and carried it to his little side table. He would have to perform an autopsy to find out how to improve his attempt next time.

It appears that your lungs were too weak and your breathing raptured them. An easy thing to fix, time to try again! And so he did, only for the new clone to die again. Some organs were not developed enough to support your body and the stress it was put under. Again!

The third time was the charm or so he thought. He got you to breath and live, but when he tried to teach you to walk… your bones shattered under your weight. He tried seven more times with your encouragement, but each time something went wrong. Brainstorm was growing frustrated, but he never let it show, not to others or to you, but being an attentive person that you were you tended to notice.

'I’ll always love you, no matter what.'

You would talk to him, soothe him, and help him through his moments of doubt when he started doubting everything he was doing. He might have given up already and put himself into stasis if it wasn’t for you being there for him and encouraging him to continue. You were always there when he needed you.

But when his samples started to wither away he was starting to become more and more desperate. No matter what he tried, the samples of your cells were not as pure or strong as they should have been to successfully clone you.

The mech slammed his fists on his table and swiped all his datapads and vials across the room. Nothing went as he wished them to go and it was starting to show on him. He didn’t recharge or eat as much as he should have and it started to take a toll on him.

'What’s wrong Brainstorm?'

”Everything is falling apart! I have you but I don’t have the body for you!”

'Why not?'

”The samples of you are decomposing despite all my might to keep them fresh! I can’t create you a body strong enough for you to use…! I’m at my wit's end…!”

'Don’t worry Brainstorm! You’re a genius! If there is anyone who can reunite us it’s you! You just need to think outside the box!'

Brainstorm scoffed out a dry laugh. ”You and your silly human sayings… You never chang-!”

Then it hit him. Of course. The answer was before him all this time! Excited and back to his old self, he collected all his datapads from his floor, threw them on the table, and started to count everything from the experiences to results.

He had to wait for the results to grow for a week, but it was all worth it when he got to see you again. He held his ventilation as he watched you yet again hack and cough air. So far so good, you weren’t getting any blood on him.

”Sweetie…? Can you hear me…?”

To his great joy, your head immediately flicked towards him and you looked at him with your big eyes. You struggled to get on your feet and he was already moving to help you, but you pushed yourself up on all four on your own! No crunching or falling, meaning your bones were holding on together at the moment.

Brainstorm crouched down to your level and held his hand to you. You approached him carefully, every few seconds glancing at him in alert, but at least you approached him. When you were only inches away from him you took a careful sniff at his extended servos. The scientist couldn’t hide the excited smile even if he wanted to and he didn’t. You knew him. It was you.

A little drop of that alien rodent’s DNA mixed with yours and you’re as good as new! Sure, you looked a little bit different with your rougher hair, and sharp claws and fangs, but it’s still you! His sweet little sweet spark.

[ladyhallen]

I Am Not A Sacrifice (She Is A Gift)

Read on AO3 | FFNET

When Sansa was a fourteen, a dragon came to the North.

It was large, pale and blended terrifyingly well with the snow. It also ate its body weight in cattle, something that had Sansa’s father age ten years before his time.

“We cannot kill that dragon,” she remembered him saying. “Its hide is as thick as a boulder and our blades would just bounce off it. It breaths ice and snow and it causes an avalanche every time it moves its tail or its wings.”

There was despair in Winterfell and Sansa did her best to be extra behaved. It wasn’t fair to her parents to have to worry about Sansa when they had a dragon to worry about as well. She ushered her siblings into being careful and Robb, for the first time, seemed to understand and helped as well. He didn’t go about with Theon in Wintertown and instead took over some of fathers duties.

And then they received news that the dragon had asked for a meeting with all the lords of the North.

“It must be a trap!” Sansa’s mother said. Her red hair, usually up in a careful braid, was loose and frazzled, a reflection of how the dragon worried her.

“We have no choice,” Sansa’s father said. His face was grim and unsmiling. Not even Arya could make him laugh. “If we do not reach a compromise, that dragon will eat us out of food and all the winter stores in a week.”

All the lords of the North converged on Winterfell, and it was a testament to the size of the castle that it managed to host all the lords, and all the guards that the lords brought with them.

Sansa had been practicing being a hostess in a while and she did her best to help her mother. It made mother smile, which was something of an accomplishment in itself.

Then, the dreaded day came and the dragon arrived. Its wingspan blocked out the sky and a great cry of fear came up from everyone.

Sansa looked out of the battlements where she had sneaked out with her siblings, Robbs head beside hers and Arya’s fingers tight in her hand. Rickon wiggled and went still while Bran just gasped in awe. Sansa took deep breaths. Her siblings would make fun of her forever if she fainted.

“You are all here, good,” the dragon said, voice deep and roiling like a thunderstorm. “I will speak, and you will listen.”

“Not like you gave us a choice, you’ve almost starved us to death here,” GreatJon Umber bellowed back at the dragon.

The dragon reared back its great head and roared. “I will speak, and you will listen!” making everyone’s ears ring.

There was a moment of terrified silence, and then Sansa’s father moved forward.

“Speak then, and we will listen,” Sansa’s father yelled up at the dragon.

The dragon rumbled and there was a moment of panic, before they all realized that yes, the dragon was pleased. Purring, like a cat.

“My name is Gilgamesh, and I am here to give you all a warning,” it rumbled. “A great Winter is coming, a storm of snow, ice and hail that will envelope your country for long, long years. If you are not careful, you will all die of the hunger and the starvation.”

There was a great deluge of whispers, but under the dragons gimlet stare, went quiet again.

“I notice that there is a heart tree here, a proper one. Good. If a Stark Monarch bleeds on the tree during Winter, you can lessen Winters hold on the land,” the dragon pronounced. “A week for every cup of blood.”

“There are no Stark Monarchs,” Robb hissed in her ear. “Or Kings or Queens at all. Ever since the Targaryen conquest, there have been no Stark Kings.”

Sansa looked at her pale brother. He seemed to understand what the dragon was saying. Sansa too felt that dawning horror of the inevitable.

“Lastly,” the dragon rumbled. “I am dying. My child is coming and will be of great aid to you, for he breathes fire. You will all take good care of my child, for he was born the Eternal Flame of Summer. You will need his Flame during your Long Winter.”

With that, the dragon sat on his haunches and stared at them all, seeming to catch the Stark siblings hiding by the battlements. “Now, you shall speak, and I will listen,” the dragon announced.

The noise that erupted was insane. Sansa let go of Arya’s hand and covered her ears. She did not let her eyes away from the dragon. It seemed displeased at the noise.

“The Long Night,” someone said. “You speak of the Long Night. It is a myth!”

“Food stores that will last for ages!” someone else said. “How on earth do you expect us to save that much food? That’s insane! It would rot!”

“You can’t expect us to host another dragon willingly! You’re eating habits are going to starve us to death, we don’t have to wait for Winter!” Sansa’s mother yelled.

The dragon rumbled again, waiting for all the questions to stop.

“I will answer, and you will listen,” he said. “If the Long Night is a myth, it is the same in that dragons are a myth. Look at me, and tell me I am not real.”

He glared at all of them with great yellow eyes. No one moved, or breathed, their courage all deserting them as they all suddenly remembered that yes, dragon.

“I will teach you how to preserve food that will last for years,” he added, looking at Master Wolken, who looked incredibly pale under the dragons attention. “And lastly, it is an exchange. If I was to give you knowledge that was incredibly valuable, then I must also get something of equal value.”

Sansa felt that knowledge settle deep in her bones. Equal Value.

“My child will not eat as much, but he will still eat, since he is the Eternal Flame. But he will also hunt, so it will be a fair trade,” the dragon finished. “I will go now, but I will come back. You must all decide wisely, for my time here is not long.”

The dragon left, as though he had not rearranged their entire lives.

“The Long Night,” Bran said. “And people called Old Nan crazy!”

“Do you think it will be very cold?” Arya asked.

Sansa shivered. “I hope everything will be alright,” Sansa said. “But father will do his best.”

Robb’s hands were warm against her back but he looked terrified.

.

That night, Sansa dreamed. The dragon had looked at her, she knew. Looked at her and found her worthy. Sansa hadn’t realized how lonely she felt among her family, that with just a look, a dragon could make her feel less alone.

“Child,” he spoke, voice calmer and less of a rumbling mass of force. “Why do you weep?”

“There are no more Stark Monarchs,” she whispered. “And our people are divided. We may yet die. I will fight for my people, but I do not know how.”

He hummed. “If I teach you, you will know. You will learn.”

“But will it hurt? Equal Value,” Sansa whispered.

The dragons eyes gleamed. “You listen well. I admire that. But the price for what I will teach you is without measure. You will know what your payment is when my child arrives.”

.

Every night Sansa slept, she dreamed of the dragon.

He taught her about leadership, about duty and about Stark Magic.

“Monarchy for the Starks is less about the title and more about the Magic, and the duty to the people,” Gilgamesh lectured. “Luckily for you, you are almost of age. Once you have turned eighteen, do not kneel for anyone. You may bow, but you must never kneel.”

“Does that mean, that we lost the title of Kings of Winter when we knelt, not when the crown was melted?” Sansa asked.

“Yes, for kings and queens will only kneel when they are conquered,” he said. “Now, have you found the Heart of Winterfell yet, Sansa?”

Sansa had found the hot springs, and the lesson proceeded.

.

.

Sansa understood what Gilgamesh meant when, a few days later, they receive news that the dragon was dead and Lord Bolton started talking about taking off the head as a trophy.

She entered the meeting chamber, with all the lords present and her siblings behind her watching her in awe.

“No,” she said to all those powerful men. “Gilgamesh the dragon, the truth speaker, will not have his head made into a trophy. He deserves better than that. He deserves to buried, or to be left alone. Let his bones rest peacefully, for he did us a great service.”

Father looked proud and everyone else looked at her strangely. Sansa stood tall and remembered not to be afraid. She would miss Gilgamesh desperately, but she knew it was his time.

And all of Winterfell waited for the arrival of the Eternal Flame, the great dragon and child of Gilgamesh the oracle; they were unprepared for the arrival of a teenaged boy carrying a sword.

.

.

“My name is Cor Leonis,” the boy said, eyes slitted like a cats – no - a dragons. Other than the scales in his arms and the horns pushing through his hair, he looked like a normal boy. “My father, Gilgamesh, bade me to come here.”

“You are the Eternal Flame, the great dragon?” Eddard Stark asked. He looked the boy up and down appraisingly. “You are smaller than I expected.”

Cor huffed, and a curl of smoke escaped his mouth. “I thought coming as a dragon would be alarming and eye catching. Also, I eat less in this shape.”

Everyone relaxed at that last sentence and Sansa had to hold back her giggles.

Perhaps it wasn’t as quiet as she thought, since his yellow eyes flicked to her immediately. He stared and Sansa stared back. The little bit of scale she could see peeking out of his clothes were fascinating. Weeks and weeks of having Gilgamesh as her teacher and she no longer feared dragons.

Eddard Stark cleared his throat pointedly, making Cor’s eyes snap to him again. “Kindly do not stare at my daughter,” he said pointedly.

“She smells of my father’s scent. He has crowned her a queen,” Cor announced, to absolute pandemonium.

.

.

There was, inevitably, a meeting.

Father, mother, Robb and all the lords who were given instructions to keep quiet. Lady Mormont looked intrigued. And of course, Cor Leonis.

“Sansa, tell us everything,” Mother said. “Where were you meeting the dragon and when?”

Sansa shook her head. She placed her hands on her lap and stared at them all quietly. “I met him in my dreams. Gilgamesh asked me for why I was crying even in my sleep, and I told him I worried that everyone in the North was going to starve despite our best efforts, because there were no more Stark Monarchs ever since the Targaryen Conquest. He said that it did not matter, because he would teach me.”

“Why you!?” Robb burst out, looking frustrated and worried in equal measure. “Surely I could hold it better.”

Cor sighed. “Gil chose her, because when she heard about blood and the Heart Tree, she was willing to bleed to death at its roots, if only to provide her people with a bit of summer.”

“Sansa,” Mother whispered, face pale. “Dear one…”

Father rounded on Cor. “She does not have to die to provide us all summer. We can manage the food stores.”

“No, a good monarch chooses duty over all else, even family,” Cor pointed out. “That, and having a heart of compassion. Can you look at her and tell me that Gil chose wrong?”

There was silence and then laughter from Lady Mormont.

“Look at all you men, alarmed that a woman was chosen,” she laughed. “If it was your boy, Bran, chosen, this would not be so troubling. But because she is a woman, you are all questioning her. Leave her be. Teach her, she is already chosen by the dragon.”

“Gil has already taught me,” Sansa said. “And we need to dig under the Glittering Crag. It has silicone sand, Gil said. A bit of steel and glass, and all of the North will have glass gardens. It’ll be a bit of a stretch, but we can then have Glass Farms!”

Sheer, utter pandemonium.

Sansa watched Cor give a small smile and wanted to see it again.

.

.

Winterfell and Wintertown became a hive of activity.

Cor’s use became evident as he started sketching out diagrams, teaching people to read and then just overhauling their entire education system just so that he could have skilled workers.

He drew out plans, scouted out the terrain, hunted some deer and slept as a boy by the large hearth of the castle.

Sansa never saw his dragon shape and she yearned to. She wondered if he would be as big as his sire, and felt her cheeks heat when she remembered his strength in singlehandedly holding up the roof of the workshop so that the people could hammer in the nails.

But Sansa had no time to think about that, except in the dead of the night.

Now that she was announced heir, all the duties that Robb had fell on to her, and some of Fathers and Mothers as well.

In retaliation, she conscripted Jeyne to be her right hand and Beth to supervise what Cor and the workers were up to in making the glass farms.

Sansa was busy, so she neglected her siblings. This was a mistake, because the next thing she knew, Arya had launched a mud pie at her dress as she was crossing the courtyard.

She felt numb. She had embroidered the dress personally, and sewn on the bodice. The dress was her once a year allowance to buy cloth. And Arya had just ruined it. She went away inside so that she wouldn’t cry and continued to walk, ignoring the mud and everyone smiling meanly at her.

She would have started crying in her office, except that Cor immediately swooped in and scolded Arya, her other siblings watching and all the spectators who did nothing to stop it.

Sansa stopped and stared, feeling warmer and touched that someone, at least, understood.

And Arya had to ruin it by opening her large mouth.

“You’re just defending her because she’s pretty!” Arya said meanly. “You’re such a boy, even if you’re a dragon.”

Cor just. Stopped. His eyes contracted and his hands clenched. Behind him, there was a massive rip as his trousers tore and his massive tail manifested, an evidence of his loss of temper.

“What does that have to do with respect?” Cor demanded. “I would defend her even if she was a boy, and not just because she’s pretty. She’s working herself to the bone for all of you, and you, you spoiled child, are not even helping her. She is exhausted every day, and you throw mud at her. She has managed to singlehandedly allocate supplies for three years, more if I’m counting right. A couple more months and she can manage to store food for five. That’s just from what I’ve seen. Meanwhile, I have never seen you work a day in your life.”

Sansa continued walking and felt like she was flying.

.

.

Sansa never really talked to Cor alone, because their duties ran parallel and didn’t really intersect. Aside from that first meeting, she and Cor were rarely alone.

That changed, because as soon as Sansa changed her clothes and had a bath, she sought him out where he was checking barrels for storing barley and flour.

“Ser Cor,” she said. “Thank you.”

He stood up. He seemed to have changed trousers as well and his eyes shone in the dark of the cellar. “Not a Ser. And there is no need for thanks. I am sorry I lost my temper. My manifestation must have been a surprise.”

Sansa shook her head. “No, never!  I mean, you have been holding your shape for months on end. You must manifest sometimes.”

“You’re…not afraid,” he said, less a question and more a statement.

“No,” she said quietly. Up close, his eyes weren’t really yellow but a lovely shade of burnished gold that refracted the light. His hair was many shades of dark brown. “No. At the start, I may have been afraid of Gilgamesh, but as I knew him, I was no longer afraid. But you…I was never afraid of you.”

And then…he smiled.

.

In the dark of the night, when she was all alone and no one was around, Sansa remembered that smile and pressed cool hands to hot cheeks.

.

Later, many months later, when the Long Night came and Cor manifested fully as a grown dragon and breathed fire to keep everyone in Winterfell warm, Sansa would remember being the only one who did not cower at his size.

She held her head high and did not bow to him and Cor hummed in pleasure.

And when the food stores would get low, Sansa would bleed. The howling winds would lessen and her people would be able to hunt, watched and protected by Cor’s dragon eyes.

The first three years were fine and Cor continued to push people to salvage. Sansa knew that it would last longer than five years and agreed with him. Getting food from the other kingdoms would do for later, when the stores were almost empty.

The Glass Farms proved their weight in gold when it kept everyone in the North fed for years. Sansa was thoroughly sick of radishes and scallions, and so was everyone else, she suspected. She missed real meat that was not preserved or salted or broiled.

The last two years, as Sansa would remember, were the hardest. The glass farms had a leak from all the ice and stopped production for three months. Sansa finally had to asked her father to ship food from Essos.

“And if all else fails, we can ask the Reach,” Sansa said.

“They charge through the nose,” Father muttered. His cheeks were thin, but he was flush with health. The heat Cor produced just by being near was significant.

“Needs must,” Sansa sighed. “And we can sell all the wool we’ve been making.”

Given that some days, the snow fall was crazy, everyone had been spinning wool. Or carving.  Or sewing. Or some variation of all three.

.

Cor finally finished the copper tubes he had asked for and installed them in every house in the North. There was a great deal of grumbling as no carpenter or tradesman wanted to be out in the snow. But the promise of warm houses forever more was too good to pass up.

He breathed a long and sustained flame in every house hearth and the flame settled on the logs and didn’t consume wood. It sat on the wood, but did not burn. It was warmer than ordinary fire.

“Is that…the Eternal Flame?” Sansa had to ask. Both of them sat in her solar, as was their custom after a long day of work.

Cor shook his head. “It is just dragon fire. Gilgamesh was being poetic.”

Sansa giggled and Cor smiled at her fondly.

“Cor,” she said when the fire was winding down and her eyes drooped. “When the winter is over, will you stay?” With me? She wanted to add, but was too afraid to do so.

Cor’s eyes dilated, as they did when he was experiencing great emotion. “Sansa, my queen. I would stay until you tell me to leave.”

With her heart in her throat, Sansa held out a hand, and Cor held it carefully, aware of the scales in his fingers. She felt warm and it had nothing to do with Cor’s heat.

“As queen in all the North,” she told him, like she’s sharing a secret. “I can marry who I wish.”

“As a dragon of magic and fire,” he answered. “No one dictates who I marry.”

The first kiss tasted like heat and magic and Sansa finally, finally understood Gilgamesh’s price.

.

.

Staring down at her first born, Sansa looked at the golden eyes and dark scales.

“His name shall be Gillian,” she announced.

.

In the afterlife, Gilgamesh laughed.

[hawklanthebard]

Fractured Diamond Chapter Two

"Wakey, wakey, Diamond-boy~."

The first thing Mondo heard as he came to slowly and painfully. A singsong tone from a gruff voice he swore he'd heard once before.

Mondo was never the fastest Diamond in the gang. Always slept in, always arrived late at meetings, always slow with clever comebacks when criticized by other members, and worst of all always drove too slow. It was no wonder why he'd mostly get left behind after a heist, not that he'd expect anyone to slow down for him. It's every man for himself out here, and if Mondo were to one day cover for his brother's role as the leader, he'd have to learn how to carry his own weight. Otherwise, how would he be expected to carry the gang? Even if he'd have to find his way out of jail.

Getting arrested was probably the most shameful thing to happen to a gang member. It's bound to happen at some point to any criminal, but to a Diamond, its weakness unfolded. Diamonds are strong, everyone knows that. Nothing can ever break a diamond, except perhaps another one, a reason why infighting was strictly prohibited within the gang. Diamonds are stronger when they're packed together, but each one is made to be strong itself. No chips, no cracks, not even a chink. A weak link can break the chain, as they say. Mondo was a prime example of that. It was one thing to fall behind and get yourself arrested, it was another thing entirely to fall behind and get captured by a rival gang.

"I said, wake up!"

The voice burst between the cracks of Mondo's returning consciousness and struck him square in the stomach. Literally. With what felt like an iron fist.

Before light could pierce through his vision, shapes began to form and dance around his head. His throbbing head. It hurt like hell, and he was certain there was a pretty good-sized bruise on his temple. Although he couldn't for the life of him remember how he got it, either the ground or blunt force. Probably a side effect of his injury. He recoiled in pain, hoping to find at least some sliver of comfort after coming to, only to find he was standing uncomfortably upright. Most of his body weight seemed to be supported by his arms above him. He moved them and was met with what unmistakenly sounded like a chain rattling. He'd figured he was probably cuffed if it weren't for the obvious splintered rope eating at his wrists. Mondo realized his shoes were missing when the icy concrete under his feet surged through his body, but at least he was able to release the tension from his sore arms, finally able to comprehend his condition. Hanging by the wrists on a meat hook, maybe? Mondo recalled something like this happening in a horror movie he and Daiya used to watch on Halloween, only the victim wasn't hung by their wrists. Mondo was slightly grateful his captives weren't that fucked. Slightly.

As if his eyelids were anchored by boulders, Mondo was finally able to get a view of his surroundings and see the silhouetted owner of the gruff voice who brought him back from unconsciousness. The Diamond tried to speak but his throat was stuck together as if it was pasted with glue and shards of broken glass in some psychotic kid's art project. Only a hoarse groan escaped through his teeth.

"Ugh..."

"Well, looky here, boys. Sleeping Beauty awakens." the voice taunted. "Oof. That's quite a bump ya got there, boy." Mondo's face twisted in pain as a pair of fingers flicked his throbbing temple, earning a sea of gruff chuckles from the other men in the room.

Mondo swallowed, somehow managed to utter a noise through his hoarse, weighted throat as if he was speaking with a chest full of sand. "Hha...hoo ah...yuh..."

The man mockingly cupped a hand over his ear, grinning at the miserable boy. "Hm? A little louder, champ. I'm hard of hearing. 'Old man', as you said."

Mondo didn't try to figure out what the man meant by that. He didn't have the energy. He tried to swallow but to no avail. His tongue couldn't even produce saliva at the moment to help his parched throat. "W...wuhh..."

" 'Wuh'? 'Wuh', what, boy?" The man pretended to mull it over. "Wah...wah... Oh! Water? You want water, boy?"

Mondo licked his lips and let out a tiny hoarse cough as if to confirm the man's "guess". The man turned to the group behind him. "The boy's thirsty. Give him some water."

Another muscular man holding a plastic bottle approached Mondo with the same sick grin as the first man and unceremoniously poured the water over Mondo's head. His body slightly jolted at the sudden action as if naturally trying to get away from the cold liquid. Of course, no prevail, much to the men's amusement. Mondo's pompadour draped over his face, the water sticking no matter how many times he may shake it.

"Aww, you ruined his pretty locks." said the first man in mock sympathy. "So sorry, boy. Must've taken hours to do." He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a canteen. "Alright, here ya go, boy."

The man pressed the nozzle over Mondo's lips, who greedily began chugging. It was then when he was immediately struck with a foul taste on his tongue, and he spat out the beverage onto the floor, followed by the remaining contents of his stomach. He coughed and gagged, feeling much worse than before. The men laughed again.

"I guess some "men" just can't hold their liquor." the first man chortled.

"Fug yoo..." a whisper crawled from Mondo's throat. Even he didn't hear it, but sure enough, it met with the ears of the other men.

"What was that, boy?" the first man towered over Mondo, who scowled through his eyebrows and mangled hair.

"Fuck...you..." the Diamond hissed as if his voice was poisonous. A stupid thing to say in his position, but Mondo was prepared to die for it.

The man snatched a fistful of Mondo's wet bangs and forced his head back to meet eyes. Mondo heard a small metallic sound, followed by something sharp being pressed against his throat. It didn't take long to decipher what it was.

Before the man could do or say anything else, another male voice thundered from the lit doorway.

"He's awake, I take it?"

The first man's eyes widened before turning toward the new man. "Y-yessir." A superior, Mondo thought.

Sure enough, his suspicion was correct in a way Mondo could not be proud of himself for. The men parted, making a small path for their boss to enter. From the towering heads, Mondo was able to see the man in full form. A taller, brawny man with short black hair and piercing blue eyes as if they were made from hell flame. He was shirtless and wore bandages around his abdomen like the Diamonds and other gangs, but his shoulders were draped in a grey trenchcoat, and he was covered in tattoos. The vice leader of The Deadly Grey Reapers. Mondo remembered seeing a bigger man, the real leader, who always accompanied this one. For some reason, he was nowhere in sight.

"Good." the man approached Mondo slowly, making sure each step added more and more growing intimidation, if not to Mondo then to his subordinates. They all lowered their heads and stared at their feet. Mondo internally scoffed. How pathetic. To have to intimidate your members in order to control them. Daiya never had an issue with insubordination, and it wasn't because he was soft or weak as other gangs believed. Daiya treated his members as if he was one of them, and he was. He served them, not the other way around. 'A true leader walks among his people, not above.', Mondo remembered his brother saying. If he were here, he'd talk some sense into these so-called "men".

The grey-clad man finally reached Mondo, towering over him as if the Diamond was a mere insect that needed to be squashed. "Mondo Owada. Do you remember me?"

Of course, he did. It was only a few hours ago that night, longer depending on how long he was knocked out. A typical heist near the shopping district, followed by a classic case of wrong place wrong time, which in turn turned into a turf war. Maybe a few steps were missing, but those were the only ones that mattered right now. In the end, the Diamonds were victorious and made haste before the cops showed up. What happened afterward Mondo could take a few guesses.

He said nothing, furrowed eyes fixed on the man as if his looks could speak for him.

The grey man cocked a brow. He didn't smile. "What, they finally cut out your tongue?" he said unhumorously "It's disrespectful to stay silent when asked a question, boy. I took the effort to remember your repulsive name. Didn't your brother ever teach you to respect your elders? Oh wait, that's just not his style, is it?"

Mondo's brows arched deeper against his violet eyes. Still, he chose to be silent, although the need to smack talk the older man for disrespecting his brother was clawing its way through the back of Mondo's throat.

The man shifted the toothpick sticking out between his lips -Mondo had always thought about shoving that toothpick down the man's throat every time he sideglanced Daiya- to the other side of his mouth as he glanced down at the young biker's feet.

"Why is he all wet? And why is there vomit on my floor?" the boss asked coldly, barely turning his head to imply he was speaking to his subordinates. The men glued their eyes to their feet, making only subtle glances at each other, almost urging one of them to speak up before things got messy. Finally, the man that Mondo woke up to opened his mouth.

"H...he said he was...thirsty, boss." the man's voice quivered as something wet splashed onto the ground below him "S-so, we gave him some..."

The grey man glanced over at the empty plastic bottle and flask near the mens' feet. He let out an exasperated sigh with an almost disappointed tone. "I thought I told you not to harm him."

The first man gulped. "U-um, w-we didn't-"

"Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid?!" the grey man shot a glare over his sticking-up jacket collar with eyes like icicles shooting across the room and into the other man's chest. He was forced to look at his boss this time.

"Wh-wha-!"

"When I said not to harm him, did you think you could draw a loophole or somethin'? That I wouldn't notice if you did anything at all other than subdue him as I told you to? You thought you could get away with it?"

A shadow cast over the first man's sweating form. "Uh, w-well, boss, ah...h-he gave me and the boys a...rough time back there, a-an' w-we-I-I thought that m-maybe we could h-have some fun w-wi-"

KRRSK

Silence swept across the room. Mondo would've thought he'd gone deaf from the sickening crack if it wasn't for the sound of droplets falling from the grey man's knuckles and forming a puddle onto the concrete floor. The same color that stained the wall before him with the limp form of the first man. The back of his skull had been cracked open like a melon and blood poured from his face onto his lap. He was dead.

'One hit...he killed him in one hit...' Mondo thought. If he anything left in his stomach, he would've made a new mess over his old. Instead, all he could do was stare with unbelieved eyes and parted lips. He'd seen bloodshed many times, but not like this.

The other men barely flinched, which only deepened Mondo's growing fear. Was this a common occurrence?

The grey man flicked his hand, spraying the remaining wet beads from his knuckles before wiping them with a cloth he pulled from his pocket. Two other men made haste to drag the bloody corpse from the room, others followed behind, leaving only Mondo and the grey man alone.

"That give you a pretty good idea about how this works, boy?" he shoved the bloody rag back in his pocket, "I imagine this is your first time with a real gang, so I decided to give you an illustration. That, and I just hate wiseguys."

Mondo knew he had to look at the man in the eyes to avoid severe punishment, but he couldn't tear his vision away from the red stain on the wall. The longer he stared, the more he realized gruesome details like teeth and pieces of broken skull with dark hair still attached scattered across the floor. When Mondo was finally able to find his voice, he spoke as steady as he could.

"What do you want from me?"

"Glad to see we're on the same page. Maybe there's hope for you after all." The grey man began pacing back and forth, "It isn't about what I want from you, more what I want from your brother. He's done me a great pain this evening. I want to deliver the same onto him."

Mondo raised his brow, eyes fixed on the man as to assure himself he heard him correctly. "Pain? In what, the heist? It was a simple robbery. Just in and out the plaza. It didn't have shit to do with you, but you guys decided to turn it into a turf war, and we kicked your asses. None of us were stupid enough to stick around when the cops showed up. And here you are, taking it out on me like a pussy. If you want that shitty plaza in the middle of nowhere just barely off the highway, be my fucking guest, just leave me out of it."

A pair of boots stopped dead in their tracks. Mondo was facing the grey man's back, the aura darkened around the room as the man spoke in a voice like molten gravel.

"You think this is about that stupid plaza?" the man's knuckles turned white against the faded crimson. "Do you remember my brother?"

His brother? Was that the man Mondo remembered seeing with him all the time? The true leader of the Grey Reapers? That's his brother?

"Isn't he the leader here?" Mondo asked unsurely.

The grey man turned back towards him, eyes shadowed over his face. "He was," he said in a harsh whisper, making sure to put extra poison into that last word.

" 'Was'?" Mondo didn't really need to ask what he meant by that, he could figure it out quickly, but he had to be sure.

"He was killed. After the cops showed up, and you hightailed, the rest of us Reapers stayed behind and fought. We could've scattered like you cowards, but my brother wasn't having it, and we put up a pretty good fight. But one cop aimed his gun at me, and my brother jumped in the way. Bullet went right through his head. I still remember the cop's face."

Mondo's face widened, almost sympathetic. He knew he'd heard gunshots and the sound of battle behind him, later drowned by his bike engine. It wasn't a sound he was unfamiliar with, it was an adventure like he was living in one of those action movies. The thrill of gunshots behind him, police sirens, thugs shouting. It's almost euphoric. But it never occurred to him the danger, death, and loss, the true bloodshed that came with it. With being in a gang.

"But...why me? What does this have to do with me?" Mondo asked

"Your brother needs a lesson. A message." the grey man glanced over at the red stain "An illustration. Everything happens for a reason, I believe. My brother died so I could live and become the leader. Your brother left you behind so I could punish him through you. The pain and helplessness I felt that evening, your brother will never understand until he feels it for himself." He towered over Mondo with intense eyes.

"So, what are you gonna do, kill me?" The biker tried to ask with masked bravery, but he wasn't sure if it came off like that. He heard another metallic sound, the same one he heard before.

"It would send your brother a message." the grey man said pressing the pocket knife against Mondo's throat "But I'm not going to give you what you want, a quick death. Like I said, I want to give your brother an illustration. Do to you on the outside what he did to me on the inside."

"You're wasting your time. He'll come back for me." 'He always does.', Mondo thought the last to himself in shame. How weak he really was.

"I have no doubt he will. But when he does, he won't find his brother. He'll only find a broken kid who shares the same blood."

"You...you won't break me. I'm-"

"-A Diamond? No one can break a diamond, is that right? But I can see right through you. You're not a diamond, not a real one. You're just a shiny piece of glass. And glass can break just as easily as bones. For instance,"

Pow!

Mondo yelped in pain with a sharp gasp as something hard rammed into his abdomen with a sickening crack. His knees buckled beneath him as his wrists once again were forced to support his body weight. Mondo could only take in short breaths, he was sure a rib was cracked. Horror crossed his mind when he remembered how easily that other man died from one punch. He was holding back.

"See? A real Diamond wouldn't crumble like that." the grey man said. Mondo winced as he grabbed a handful of his hair, hoisting his head up to meet eye contact. "You're going to break, Mondo Owada. You're going to be cracked. And what happens to a diamond when it cracks?"

Another blow landed on Mondo's midsection, this time definitely breaking a few more ribs. Mondo could only let out a small whimper as he bit his lip, fighting back the urge to cry.

"It becomes worthless."

[realm-sweet-realm]

Sammy x Joey for 31

31: “I own you”

This prompt also uses the line, “your heart is racing,” which was requested by @threadedsafetypin for Norman and Sammy. (Sorry, I don’t know how to do the “put image of the ask in another ask” thing.)

---

Norman was a professed lover of drama and mysteries, and Joey Drew Studios was full of them. He’d learned all kinds of things from their loose-lipped janitor, and just by knowing the right places to stand out of sight but within earshot. A few months ago, Norman would have laughed any time he heard his fellow worker speculate as to what all the new machinery was for. Norman knew. He knew and he knew it would never come to fruition, because how could such a thing happen outside a cheesy horror flick?

And then it did. Everyone had heard the ink machine roar to life, but Norman believed he was among the only ones to have seen the beast trapped in the infirmary. The machine worked, it was dangerous, and that worried Norman, because he’d gotten invested in the people he’d watched every day, the same way one might get invested in the characters in a book. He wanted their safety- especially the one he’d found out was meant to be their first target- Susie Campbell.  

Of course, nothing would stop Joey Drew short of murder. But maybe if he could get through to Sammy Lawrence, Sammy could get through to her. In order to do that, though, he’d have to become the biggest devil in Sammy’s life- and lord knew that would be a challenge.

His plan started by pick-pocketing Joey’s keys from him and leaving them on Sammy’s desk.  Not while Sammy was around, of course. Norman had overheard a conversation of theirs in which Sammy had expressed a desire for his own keys to the very basement floor (a place so secret and mysterious that not even Norman could guess at its purpose). Sammy had framed it as being about trust and respect, but with the way Joey always kept the magic stuff vague to Sammy, Norman had the sense that Sammy wanted to make sure he wasn’t being lied to.

Of course, the plan would fall apart if Sammy chose not to take the opportunity Norman provided him. And, hidden in a room near the elevator just a while after everyone else had gone home, it started to feel ridiculous. Sure, he’d feel awful about letting Susie die, but...

Sammy passed by the door, and Norman yanked him in by the arm. The office door slammed shut behind him, and big, brown hands wrapped tight around his arms. Sammy’s heart stopped until he realized that Norman was the one who’d pulled him in and not Joey.

“Okay, what the hell?” Sammy yelled at him.

“Sorry about this. But we need to have a little talk. I’m going to let you go, let you take a seat, alright?”

“Fine,” Sammy grumbled. Norman slowly let go of his wrists. Unfortunately, Norman was blocking the door, so Sammy couldn’t just make a run for it. He sat down on the chair, resigned to whatever Norman had planned for him. And tomorrow, he’d report him to Joey for inappropriate behaviour.

“Alright. Now, I want you to stop doing what you’re doing with Joey Drew. I don’t know all the details of what you’re doing, but I know enough. I know it involves Susie Campbell, and I’m gonna tell you right now that if you hurt her, you’re going to regret it. And then I’ll find out and make you regret it more. You hear? And I’m sorry that I have to do this through threats, but you see, I know that Joey Drew is a devil in your life, and the only way to get you to listen to me instead of him is to be a bigger devil.”

Sammy stayed quiet a moment. “Are you done?”

“Can you tell me that she’ll be safe?”

“No. This might surprise you, but Joey is going to have plans for her regardless of if I participate or not. And while we’re here, I might not be with Susie anymore, but you need to stop watching her. It’s creepy enough when you eavesdrop on men, but when it’s women...” Sammy shuddered. “And aside from that, Joey isn’t a devil in my life! At least, after last night he won’t be.”

“What happened last night?”

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because you desperately want to tell someone.”

Sammy grumbled about Norman using his powers on him, then he told Norman everything.

---

Joey and Sammy were in the basement, learning to preserve and hide corpses from a book on the occult that Joey had bought (from where Sammy had no idea). Sammy wondered idly how what started out as a relatively innocuous hobby had led him to this. And yet, it did still fascinate him, and this was a necessary part of the process.

“It says that the formaldehyde will have to cool for ten minutes before it’s ready,” Joey said. “I guess this is a good time to bring up the other thing I wanted to. Sammy, I’m sorry for being so... uptight lately. I don’t want to be laying down all these rules for you to make sure you don’t stray, and I’m sure you don’t like them, either. So, I came up with a way to put my suspiciousness to rest forever! After this, all the rules will be gone! I’ll let you talk to whoever you want- gay men, single women, whoever! Heck, break up with me and go smooch someone else! And I’ll tell you about anything Satanism-related that you want! You see, I might like your body, but I care infinitely more that you’re loyal to me and what we’re creating together. You just have to accept a little favour from me first.”

"And what would that be?” Sammy asked, heavily suspicious.

“Well, you see- a while ago, I was diagnosed with cancer. I used a Satanic ritual to make me healthy again- it worked within a couple days. But it didn’t just make me healthy- it made me glow. Made me look and feel as young and energetic as I’ve ever been. I barely had to sleep. Whenever I tried to come off of them, though, I couldn’t. Even going a week without it made me so weak that I had to buy a cane to get around, and a week after that I was so sick that I could barely complete the ritual again- but I felt great again immediately afterwards and I haven’t tried to quit since. Now, the treatment is expensive, but I’ll pay for it. If you’re truly dedicated to this, I’ve just offered you a guarantee of health and youthfulness for the rest of your days. And it’s painless, I promise- we could do it together in my office every morning. The quitting part shouldn’t matter to you. So just do it, and I’ll never doubt your dedication again for as long we live.”

---

“...And you went through with it.”

“Of course I did! He offered me a blessing! I would have wanted to stay with him anyhow! There was no price for me!”

“Sorry, but no. Sammy, you yell like that when you’re wound up. You are terrified. Your heart is racing. You’re shaking like a leaf, and your eyes are the size of plates. That’s not me using my so-called powers- that’s me using my eyes.”

Sammy looked aside. “Fine. I guess a part of me knew that it was just him saying ‘I own you’ in a different way. But... it’s a better way. More convenient.”

Norman wished he could comfort him. “I’m gonna leave you with one more thing to think on. It sounds like Joey had been taking that spell for weeks when he tried coming off of it. You’ve had it what- once? Maybe if you stop now, there’s still hope.” Norman stepped away from the door. “Go. Sorry I can’t help you.”

Sammy got up and left without a word.

---

It was Thursday night and Norman had come home after work. He was just helping his wife out in the kitchen when he heard a knock at the door. It was Sammy holding a handgun in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

“HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS!” Norman yelled as he knocked the gun out of Sammy’s hand and then kicked it aside.

“Believe it or not, I’m not here to murder you,” Sammy growled, handing him the piece of paper. It read:

I’ve decided that I don’t want to live under Joey’s control anymore. He’s expecting me to meet up with him tonight to help with Susie’s ritual. Thanks to him, I know how to hide a body, but I could really use your help in making sure she’s not the one who dies tonight.

"I’m proud of you, Sammy. Let me get my coat.”

[sami-at-ciela]

Prompt 6: Avatar

Or: “There’s too much wild crap going on for one ‘or’ line.”

I had a long chat with a buddy about how the amaro are basically dogs, and I thought about making my dogs into amaros. Sparki was a miniature schnauzer who loved me to bits but had an incredible attitude problem towards everyone else. Clearly, she’s a model amaro (maybe, maybe not).

I want to apologize in advance for the leaning on the 4th wall that shows up later in the story, but also? Nah. Revel in it.

The village of amaros had one odd dragonbird in its ranks.

Sparki was a pygmy amaro with a distinct fluffy while beard and an attitude. The first thing she did when she left her roost that morning was argue with Seto.

“Hey, Seto,” she barked, flapping over his roost walls and landing right in front of him. “Got a question for ya. That jock-looking guy you always palled around with-”

Seto gave a harrumph befitting his stature. “His name was Ardbert, Sparki, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sparki grumped, flapping her wings in a dismissive huffy gesture. “Do you know if he had any kids who might have carried on the adventuring business?”

“No,” Seto grunted. “Why are you asking this now?”

Sparki gave a dracoavian shrug. “I dunno, I saw you with the pretty Viis lady in yellow, and she found your medallion and you got all mushy-gushy over it, and it got me thinking: I wanna go on an adventure, too. I remember, before I could talk, I always came by to yell at you and Ardbert and bite his ankles. It was a good time.”

Seto heaved his best exasperated sigh. “Yes, I remember as well, even if all we heard at the time was aggressive gweeing and the panicking of the rookery keeper as he came to retrieve you.”

“Meh. Idiot should have fixed the hole in the gates faster then. Too bad there is no gate anymore.” A beat passed, and Sparki changed her focus. “So! I think I’m gonna go on that adventure. I already packed some food and water, but what else do you think I need? Aside from a traveling companion who’s big and strong- or small and strong- and can make sure I don’t get my ass bitten by a Sin Eater?”

“How did you pack-” Seto shook his head. That bit of minutiae wasn’t important. “Sparki, you should be more willing to ensure that your companion isn’t bitten by a Sin Eater instead.”

“Oh, please! If I find a good buddy, they’re gonna be my ride or die. I swear it on my honor as an amaro! I wouldn’t be an amaro at all if I didn’t love people. Like, seriously.” Sparki huffed through her nose as her mind drifted. “Don’t get me wrong. I miss the hells out of my master. We went through so much crap together. No one else would make me wag my butt harder.”

“That has always been a strange habit of yours,” Seto cut in. “If you truly plan to seek a new master for whatever reason, I would advise visiting the Nu Mou some malms away. As faithfully industrious as they are, they may very well have a lead or two for you.”

Sparki raised one wing in a mimic of a salute. “Thanks for the tip, old pal! I think I’ll head straight for ‘em. See you when I make the big time!”

“What ‘big time?’” Seto scoffed, but it was too late. Sparki had already taken off and was cackling a most distinctive “Gwee-hee-hee-hee!”

From above, the Nu Mou settlement was easy to spot, and she whooped down right in front of one that nearly fell over from surprise. “An amaro? What brings you here?” they asked.

“I’m going on an adventure, my lop-eared friend,” Sparki declared. “I was told you folks might have a lead for me to go to or a person to meet. But I’m no idiot! I wouldn’t dare ask you for a favor without giving you patronage first.”

The Nu Mou cocked their head. “Normally it is the patronage of men we seek, but in these desperate times, any patron is welcome. I suppose, while I don’t know of any special travelers beyond the ones who slew the Lightwarden, I can make it easier for you to meet more people.”

“Oh? And how would you do that?”

“I would design a glamour for you to disguise yourself as a person.”

Sparki goggled at the notion. “Count me in! That sounds awesome! What do I gotta do to help with that?”

“I require a certain type of very reflective fish from the river,” the Nu Mou said. “If you find me three, I can begin the process.”

“A very reflective fish…? Oh yeah! I know those! They were supposed to be my lunch, but I can find more easy-peasy.” Sparki stuck her nose into a saddlebag and flicked out three sparkling fish. “How’s this?”

The Nu Mou surveyed the offerings and nodded. “I applaud your preparation. These are indeed the right kind. Allow me to set them up, and we can get started.”

The three fish were laid out in a line and accompanied by gemstones and special herbs. The Nu Mou waved their wand, and a projected image shimmered over the fish. “I’ve decided to start with a dwarf as a base,” they said. “Or… something like one.”

People from the Source would have called the not-quite-a-dwarf a Lalafell.

“Huh, neat. Do I get to pick stuff out, or are you gonna choose for me?”

“I have preset options, but you are free to choose from them.”

The next half hour or so was spent grumbling about hairstyles, eye shapes and colors, and the precise angle of eyebrows. Eventually, Sparki chose her glamour: a Lalafell with black hair that faded to grey tied up in buns, deep blue eyes, and the distinct lack of pupils of a Dunesfolk.

“This is too cool,” Spari beamed. “There’s no option for me to keep my beard though. Can you fix that?”

The Nu Mou shook their head. “It would require more coding than I am capable of.”

“Coding?”

“Yes, coding. Magical programming. It’s an emerging field and nothing you need worry too much about as a front-end user.”

“Huh… okay.” Sparki shrugged and shook herself off. “So, how do I put it on?”

“I do that for you.” The Nu Mou uttered a spell in fae-speak, pointed their wand at Sparki, and in a flash of aether, she took the form of the pictured Lalafell.

“Oooooooh!” Sparki squealed as she marveled at her new form, flexing her fingers and tapping her toes on the ground. “This is wizardry! Literally! You bet  I’m giving you another fish as a tip.”

The Nu Mou began to flail. “Please, we do not require or even accept tips! We Nu Mou ask for only our established patronages, no more, no less!”

Sparki stopped testing her glamour body out, dug around in what had been her saddlebag, and flung out an extra fish. “Take. the. Tip,” she grunted. “Either that or increase your prices. Don’t undersell yourself. Three shiny fish ain’t nothing compared to the awesomeness of this glam.”

“I-I wouldn’t feel comfortable raising my prices!” the Nu Mou sputtered.

“Fine, fine, just know what you’re worth, okay? And don’t be afraid to ask for coffee. Or tea. Or even a monthly payment of 500 gil!” Sparki looked to the sky. “Aw, crap, I can’t fly in this form- wait a second.” In a display unlike anything seen thus far, she made her wings clip through the back of her avatar. “There we go!”

The Nu Mou gasped in horror, clutching the extra fish close. “Y-you can’t request a glamour like that and then immediately break it!”

“Meh, I’ll figure out how to put ‘em back later,” Sparki muttered, ignoring how aghast the fae in front of her was. “Seriously? I owe you one. When I make it big, I’m gonna make sure you’re properly credited, just you wait!”

Before the Nu Mou could object, the amarofell took off, gwee-hee-heeing all the way.

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 8 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Chapter warning: some gets physically sick, discussions of death

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 8

"Hey, is it just me, or is the floor moving?" Danny questioned as he stared at the moving stone.

"No, it's not just you," Sam confirmed as she glanced at her friend. Although he was sitting rod straight as he watched, his coloration was still flickering, and there now seemed to be a green tinge to his cheeks.

"Don't you think we should run?" Tucker's question nearly made Sam snort. With Danny getting worse, there was no way he'd be able to escape with them.

Before anyone had a change to respond, the stone completely lifted and shifted to the side, exposing a hole. Seconds later, a furry head popped out. They watched in silent horror as it flicked one of its ears as if hear them and turned to face them.

The face that greeted them was terrifying. If Sam had to describe it, the appearance was like an angry polar bear who happened to have icy horns. Maybe calling it a yeti would be more accurate, but she could argue with herself about the semantics once she was out of this mess.

They just stared at the thing in the floor until it smiled at them. Whatever spell its sudden appearance held over them was broken, and they yelled in terror. There where several seconds of confusion as the three of them tried to escape. Tucker was halfway to the door while Sam tried to help Danny, who had fallen off the table, when the thing spoke.

"Children, please do not be alarmed," it gently requested as it raised itself up from the floor. Its entire body was covered in that same white fur, save for its one arm, which appeared to be made from ice. In an almost bemused afterthought, Sam noted it wore a blue clothing article which may have been a kilt. "We don't have much time before Plasmius returns."

When they didn't respond of move, the creature continued to speak as it tried to look as non-threatening as possible. "I am call Frostbite, the leader of the Far Frozen. I am lucky to have found out about you when I did. Plasmius has killed many humans in his experiments. If you allow me, I will help you return to your home."

"Why should we trust you? How do we know you won't take us somewhere and eat us?" Tucker demanded as he inched closer to Danny and Sam.

It laughed heartily at Tucker's question. "Myself as well as my clan do not eat people. We have made it the goal of our afterlives to try to assist as many wayward humans as we possibly can." Frostbite's smile faded. "However, I acknowledge your concern. This is the first time we have met, and if Plasmius has been your first encounter with the those of us from this realm, then you most likely do not think highly of us." It, possibly he, glanced at Danny as his coloration cycled again. "You are ill, and if you do not leave this place soon, you may not be able to return to the land of the living."

There was a tense moment as Sam and the boys stared at Frostbite. It… no, he… seemed genuine. Although his face was frightening, his eyes were sincere and almost seemed to plead with them.

"Alright," Danny eventually stated as he slowly stood, "but, you have to swear you won't hurt them!"

"I swear it on my honor, young one."

"Psst, Danny, what are you doing?" Tucker angrily whispered as he tugged on Danny's sleeve. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

"Call me crazy, but I think it's much less risky to go with him then it is to stay here and wait for Plasmius," Danny responded as he tested his footing. "He's a lot more honest than Plasmius, that's for sure."

"You noticed it too?" Sam was impressed he picked up on it. Although, Danny was often clueless when it came to certain social cues, particularly flirting, he did have an amazing talent for picking up on whether someone was being honest.

Tucker looked at both of them for a disbelieving moment before he shook his head. "Alright. I'll follow your lead on this, but if we get eaten, I'm blaming you."

"Young one, do you require assistance?" Frostbite asked as he eyed Danny, who appeared to be somewhat lightheaded as he tried to walk.

"It's Danny, and no, I can handle it."

A frown crossed Frostbite's face for a moment before he scurried forward and scooped Danny into his arms. "I understand your desire to escape on your own, but you are not well, and time is of the essence." Frostbite then instructed Sam and Tucker to enter the hole in the floor first. Once they were safely inside which was revealed to be a tunnel, he handed Danny to them. He then entered the tunnel and carefully replaced the floor's stone.

There was little light in the tunnel save for the slight glow Frostbite and occasionally Danny produced. As if sensing their concern, Frostbite held up his hand (or was it more of a paw?) and created a soft blue light. "This way, children," he instructed as he began to walk. "I am sorry I cannot produce a better light source, but if I generate much more energy, Plasmius may discover our location."

"I was wondering why we were doing things so old school," Tucker whispered.

As Sam rolled her eyes at him. If it wasn't for the fact she and Tucker were both supporting Danny as they walked, she probably would have smacked him for being rude. But, his statement did bring up an interesting point. "So, you could have gotten us out in an easier way, but Plasmius would have caught us?"

"Correct. Most sentient ghosts can easily phase through walls, unless the object is something native to this world or is coated in something that disrupts our powers or repels us. Plasmius' palace is unusual as much of it is created from materials taken from the human realm, but his reputation and the barrier he uses is able to keep most ghosts away. He is very unkind to trespassers." Frostbite glanced back at them. "I know young Danny's name, but I have yet to learn yours."

As weird as it sounded, Sam was embarrassed by that lapse in courtesy. She quickly introduced herself, and Tucker followed suit.

"Sam and Tucker! Such fitting names!" The strange ghost seemed pleased, but after a moment, he stopped walking, so he could turn and look at them. "Please alert me immediately if you notice you are not feeling well or notice something strange about yourself." After they promised, Frostbite nodded and continued forward. "This world can do strange things to those who unintentionally enter it, and there are many ways the changes can occur."

"Can… can I ask a question?" Once Frostbite agreed, Danny continued, "I'm sorry if this is a bit rude, but were you human?"

"That I was." The ghost didn't appear bothered by the question. "While many of my human memories have faded over time, I do remember that I was once an explorer. As for how I came this this realm, I am uncertain, but I do know that by the time I once again found a way back to the world of the living, I appeared much how you see me now. Many of my clan seem were also explorers or those who spent a great deal of time in the woods or mountains. We are not sure why we have taken this form, but we use it to our advantage. We often patrol areas where portal formation is common and try to scare humans away from them. However, more recently we have been finding more and more humans who seem to be looking for us." He seemed absolutely puzzled by the concept.

Sam shared a look with her friends. Did that mean that he and his clan were what people considered Bigfoot? Maybe she was reading too much into it, but that's what it seemed like.

"So, does that happen to everyone who dies? Cuz I don't know if I can handle the fact I might not keep these good looks when I die," Tucker whined.

The soft blue light flickered as Frostbite chuckled. "I don't believe you have to worry. While it is possible, you are unlikely to become a ghost if you expire outside of this realm. However, I am no expert regarding the mysteries of life and death."

"But what happens if you die here?" It was Sam's turn to ask a question.

"It seems to vary. Some die, but their souls do not remain here. For others, their body and soul mingle and change, creating a ghost."

"That almost sounds like a zombie," Sam mumbled to herself.

Frostbite chuckled again. "I understand why you would think as such. However, zombies can only exist in your world. They are corpses reanimated, often through magic, but lack a soul. For us, our earthly bodies are somehow a catalyst for the new form our soul takes, but even though I have seen it happen, I do not understand the process."

His explanation somewhat made sense, Sam mused. It also lined up with what Plasmius mentioned about how his experiments didn't always work. Although, it posed a more troubling question. What exactly would happen to Danny? If he really did die and become a ghost, did that mean there would be no body for his family to bury? It was a troubling thought that wouldn't go away no matter how much Sam tried to think of something else.

However, something Sam also noted was that Danny was avoiding asking questions regarding what was happening to him. Other than when his hands flickered in and out of visibility in the lab, he hadn't brought up the subject. It was possible he was focusing on escaping. However, with the new knowledge Frostbite had given them, he was probably in some sort of denial. She wasn't certain if she'd be able to be as calm if she was the one affected.

What seemed like an hour later, although her sense of time could have been altered due to the darkness, they finally reached the end of the tunnel. It wasn't a moment too soon as Danny had fainted when they had first caught sight of the exit. Once outside, she and Tucker carefully sat Danny down, so they could take a quick break. Once she was certain Danny was settled, she took the chance to look around.

In front of them was a think yet somewhat dead looking forest, like what they first found themselves in when they fled from the first ghost. Behind her was the tunnel which had been cut into what appeared to be a rock outcropping. If it wasn't for the strange coloration, it could have looked like something found in the forests back home.

She started when Frostbite gave a quick whistle. Moments later, four more ghosts who had similar appearances to Frostbite appeared from within the forest. They had to be part of the clan the ghost had mentioned while they were escaping. The group exchanged a few words before Frostbite beckoned to the humans behind him.

"Children, do not be alarmed. These are members of my clan, and they will be assisting us in your escape. However, we need to stop at our realm first as we have an object that will help us locate when and where a portal will open. I would also like to assess Danny's health." The ghost frowned at the form of the unconscious teenager. "You have probably guessed this realm has a grip on him, but he is resisting the change more intensely than I have ever seen."

"That means he'll be able to come home with us, right?" Tucker's question was full of a wary hope.

"I am… uncertain. We may have to seek the wisdom of an older entity to know for sure."

…

The world wouldn't stop spinning when Danny finally came to. After rolling over and relieving the contents of his stomach, he finally was able to think clearly enough to take stock of his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be some type of medical room. Although the walls appeared to be made of ice, there was a light and almost friendly atmosphere about the place.

A sound caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see white creature duck out of the room. Puzzled at the reaction, it wasn't until it returned to the room with Frostbite that he realized it was simply retrieving the other ghost.

"You've wakened, young one!" Frostbite seemed exuberant as he examined him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got spun around in one of those centrifuges at space camp way too many times," Danny replied as he rubbed his head. Although the dizziness had subsided, he still felt somewhat ill. "Where are Sam and Tucker?"

"They are resting in another room. They've been eagerly waiting for news of your awakening."

Danny sighed in relief at the news. "Will I be able to see them?"

"Absolutely, but first I would like to discuss something with you," Frostbite sat down at a chair near the bed Danny was using. Somewhat unnerved by how serious Frostbite seemed to be, he carefully sat up and gestured for him to continue. "Your circumstance is nothing like what any of us have ever seen before."

"My circumstance?" That didn't sound good. Did it have to do with something Plasmius did to him?

"Yes. Before I explain, I need to ask if you've eaten anything while you were here?"

Danny shook his head. "Unless Plasmius fed me something when I was unconscious, then no. Wait," he paused for a moment as he tried to remember what Plasmius had told him, "maybe? Plasmius said something about taking care of me when I got lost when I was six."

"How odd, but as you must have returned home afterwards, it might have something to do with the unexpected results. Did Plasmius explain what he wanted from you?"

"He wanted me as his heir? I think?" Before he or Frostbite could say anything else, Danny felt something clench in his navel. Immediately afterwards, what seemed to be a flash of light momentarily blinded him. Terrified, he yelped and tried to move away. "What-what just happened?"

"This is what I have need to discuss with you." The ghost then rose and picked Danny off the bed before carefully setting him down in front of a mirror at the far end of the room.

It was the first time since he had come to this world that he had a chance to take stock of himself. However, the image looking back at him wasn't what he was expecting. His eyes weren't his usual blue but were instead an unnatural green. His skin had tanned, but the color somehow seemed unhealthy. His hair was now a silvery white instead of his black, and if he wasn't imaging it, he was admitting a slight glow. "What's wrong with me?" he asked in a horrified whisper.

Before he could get his answer, he felt the clench in his navel again. When the light subsided, he was greeted with the reflection of how he originally looked. Uncertain if his mind was playing tricks on him, he checked his hands and what he could of his bangs. Everything appeared normal.

"Usually," Frostbite started, which caused Danny to pause his examination and look at the ghost," when this world claims someone, they can no longer return to their human form. If they do, they often end up dead. You are somehow able to keep your human form, yet you produce a ghost form. In all my years, I have never seen such a thing."

"What exactly does that mean? What am I?"

"Unfortunately, I do no know. From what our tests showed, you have both a functioning human heart and a ghostly core, which is our equivalent of a heart. You've been switching back and forth between forms for some time."

======================================

Notes:

1) So… the Bigfoot mention. This is something that I've heard before. There are 2 major lines of thought regarding the famous cryptid. 1) Bigfoot is a flesh and blood creature, and 2) Bigfoot is an interdimensional, extraterrestrial, or spiritual entity (I seriously had a professor who believed Bigfoot could travel through dimensions. He even wrote papers about it). For this story, I'm going with the concept that people are catching brief glimpses of Frostbite and his people as they patrol areas known for spontaneous portal openings.

Interdimensional aspects are popping up more and more when it comes to paranormal topics, and they're a major theory when it comes to unexplained disappearances and weird creatures. Personally, I find the concept intriguing, but it's not something that can currently be proven. Though… there are a lot of rumors about how CERN is trying to do that. I know that group is just supposed to be studying particles and quantum physics, but there are sooooo many weird rumors about CERN.

2) For this story, I'm borrowing the type of idea where a ghost can't be created unless its former vessel (body) is used as a medium. You see things like this for Revenants, Strigoi Mort (Romanian ghost/zombie/vampire thing), and Gjenganger (Scandinavian ghost/zombie thing similar to a Dragur), and others. For those stories, the only way to get rid of them is to damage/destroy the body in specific ways which vary from region to region.

3) human centrifuges are real things. They are used by to help test the effects of G-forces on people, and astronauts receive training to handle said forces in them. They do, at least used to have, a version of it at space camp.

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 11

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Heyyyyyaaaaaaa. I’m going to be honest with y’all. I have not been working on this story like I should have since I started posting. That being said, I do have a few more chapters completed but then things get a littleeeeee fuzzy bc I’ve been slacking. I’m going to try to keep up with the posting schedule I have rn, but if that doesn’t work out, please forgive me. I may need to pause for a few weeks to stack up some more chapters. BUT CROSS YOUR FINGERS I GET MY SHIT TOGETHER. As always, please like and reblog and leave me an ask if you can. :’) When you’re done reading, I would love for you guys to go find a petition you haven’t signed yet. All of my love. Xx

Melody still had nightmares. Horrible ones. Awful, haunting dreams that pressed at the edges of reality, blurring lines between sleeping and waking. But they somehow became less constant and more bearable within the next few weeks. Whether it was due to Harry’s constant, tender touches as she fell asleep every night, or to the ugly, unartistic paintings and incoherent writing she’d forced out, there were no clues. She thought Harry deserved the credit, but he thought it could be a mix of both.

Early snow dusted the city like powdered sugar, lightly enough to look pretty without making traffic a mess. Melody felt the cold dampen her mood, but Harry only seemed to brighten at the prospect of a blizzard warning. Snow dazzled him. Despite everything he’d experienced in his relatively short life, somehow winter had always remained a sort of sanctuary for him. And he’d softened himself toward everyone as a result.

“Ugh, do I have to go?” Melody asked aloud when she reentered the bedroom to find him laid out on her bed. He looked so cozy and warm in a pair of sweats with his hair mussed atop his head. She bent over him to plant a chaste kiss to his lips.

“No,” Harry said, “yeh don’.”

She smiled ruefully and stole another soft kiss from him. “Yes, I do.”

“Yeh don’ have to. Could stay here with me.”

“Harry.” Melody accepted his return kisses as he sat himself up, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress.

“Melody.” He ran a thumb over the curve of her chin and sighed.

“I need to go. Please, be nice to Bea.”

“Always am.”

“Sure you are.” She pressed her lips to his one final time and let them linger a few moments too long, until she felt his fingers sneaking around the back of her neck. If she let him touch her too much she’d end up late to her own match. “Okay, I’m leaving,” she insisted as she backed away. “I’m going. Bye.”

Harry watched her slip out of the room, collecting her gym bag on the way. He was relieved that she hadn’t told him she loved him. Every time he heard the words on her tongue he felt his very organs shift, felt them contort and fold in on themselves. He would never, ever tell her the way it made him feel, but he hoped that eventually, when he still wasn’t saying it back, she might just let the sentiment die. Wishful thinking, perhaps.

“Let’s go, Harry!” Bea called from the living room.

He sighed as he rose to his feet and lumbered out of the bedroom, his cane clicking on the hardwood. The door to the apartment closed before he made it past the threshold of the room. It was only him and Bea left. There was still an awkward air between them, but it was beginning to thin. Harry thought it was because of his help with Melody’s nightmares. He didn’t like the idea that Bea had ever thought he’d be useless in a situation like that. He didn’t like that doing the bare minimum to comfort Melody had somehow made Bea more open to him.

“You don’t look enthused.”

“I don’ like to bullshit,” Harry responded.

Bea grinned. She patted the cushion beside her and waited for him to sit. She didn’t seem bothered that he sat farther from her than necessary.

“Aren’t you wondering what we’re gonna watch?” Bea asked.

Harry shrugged. “Not really.”

“What if I picked a chick flick?”

“Then I’d just fall asleep.”

“You’re not falling asleep tonight,” Bea stated. “We’re watching The Silence of the Lambs.”

Harry’s lack of reaction seemed to deflate her. She clicked a button on the remote and the opening credits of the film began to roll.

“I have no clue how you’re with someone who writes and paints,” Bea murmured.

“If yeh figure it out, let me know.”

The pair lapsed into silence as the movie started. And didn’t even exchange a glance when Queenie appeared, curling up on the cushion between them.

Bea paused after a bit to take a call from Josie and microwave a bag of popcorn, and when she returned she found her cat sprawled across Harry’s lap, purring loudly, much to Harry’s chagrin. She had to consciously stop herself from spitting out laughter. Instead, she sat back in her seat and slid the bowl of popcorn into the spot that Queenie had abandoned.

***

“That was fucked up,” Harry eventually said, when the end credits of the movie had been rolling for a few minutes.

“Yes.”

“He wore the guy’s face.”

“He eats people. I feel like that’s the more fucked up of the two.”

Harry shook his limbs, as though he could expel the disturbing parts of the movie from his memory. Queenie, who hadn’t moved since she settled into his lap, took unkindly to his movement, stretched to the floor, and bounded into Bea’s bedroom.

“Glad Melody didn’t watch this one.”

Bea drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “Melody loves scary movies,” she informed him. "But that’s because she knows they’re not real. She’s not—It’s different when you live it, right?”

Harry fell silent. Whether she agreed or not, he was the one that had dragged Melody into a horror film of her own. Now she could barely sleep in her own bed because of his brother. And he didn’t know how else he could help, how else he could ward off the monsters.

“Speak of the devil,” Bea said as she caught sight of Harry’s phone, where it buzzed on the coffee table. “Mel” was spelled across the screen. Harry leaned forward to answer the call and bring the phone to his ear.

“Hi.”

“Hey, man.”

Sean’s voice sounded muffled and uneasy. Harry felt himself stiffen almost immediately, and his body language conveyed something to Bea. She unfolded her legs to place her feet flat on the floorboards.

“Wha’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

“Because yeh’re callin’ me from Melody’s phone and yeh sound like yeh’re about to get in trouble. Don’ fuck with me.”

There was a brief hiccup of a chuckle on the other end of the line. It was a nervous sound. Harry didn’t like it one bit.

“Uh, she lost her match.” Sean cleared his throat before he went on. “She’s about to get an X-ray of her torso done right now. I’m sure it’s just—”

“Fuckin’ Christ, Sean! Yeh could’ve led with that.” Harry was already on his feet, reaching for the arm of the sofa to keep his balance when he realized he was forgetting his cane. He doubled back and waved off Bea’s desperate vie for information.

“She’s probably fine!” Sean defended. “I don’t think she broke anything or she would’ve been a little more hysterical.”

“For fuck’s sake. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Harry hung up before Sean could respond. “She’s gettin’ X-rays at the hospital,” he spat at Bea, who was following him around and demanding to know what was going on. “Might have a broken rib or somethin’.”

So much for this strange bonding experience that Melody had insisted on. It felt more like something sorority sisters might do on the weekends than anything else, anyway. And Harry didn’t wait for Bea as he hobbled down the complex stairs, struggling into a jacket while supporting himself with his cane. But somehow she ended up in the cab with him, and their mutual silence felt unifying.

***

“Floor two,” the woman at the lobby’s desk said. Harry was already crossing to the elevators, so she nearly shouted the room number to him. Bea, despite being in perfect health, had to rush to keep up with him. Her curls bounced with every hurried step.

“Harry, I’m sure she’s okay.” She tugged the zipper down on her jacket as they waited for an elevator and tried to catch her breath. This felt like exercise, and Bea hated exercise. “Not that you shouldn’t be worried,” she continued, “but don’t act like she’s on the brink of death. She’s used to injuries.”

Harry snorted humorlessly. Melody didn’t know what injuries were. She told him once that she’d never been to the hospital for herself. It was always a cousin giving birth or her father getting stitches. She had never split her skin open far enough to get stitched up herself, or been hit so hard that her insides were bleeding, or snapped a bone.

There was a musical ding as an elevator reached the ground floor. Harry didn’t wait for the family on it to exit before he shouldered past them and jammed his thumb into the button for the second story. Bea was more patient. She allowed everyone out before she stepped in beside Harry and watched him smash the button to close the elevator doors. It was almost endearing to see him so concerned, but it was also too intense for her tastes.

There was no elevator music to lull the pair of them. They waited in silence until they reached the floor that Melody was on and then navigated through the halls quickly until they found the correct room number. Sean was just inside the door.

“Ah, I thought you’d gotten lost or—”

“Fuck you,” Harry snapped as he stepped past his friend. Melody was laying in a hospital bed. This setting was so familiar to Harry, but with the roles reversed, it felt like he was having a nightmare of his own.

“You don’t have to be rude to him, you know,” Melody muttered.

She had an awful, swelling bruise on her forehead, so close to her temple that it could’ve made Harry sick. She was in a sports bra, and for the first time he noticed Vanessa, who was meticulously wrapping up Melody’s ribcage.

“‘S not broken?” was the first thing Harry said.

“No,” Vanessa answered.

“Bruised.” Sean took a step forward, trying to insert himself back into the conversation that he had been ejected from. “She was doing really well and then—”

“I don’ wanna hear from you,” Harry interrupted. Melody rolled her eyes. Sean sighed.

“Fine, I guess I’ll go home,” he said. “I’ll let Goodman know you’re out for at least a month.”

Melody’s eyes widened and when she moved, the pressure on her ribs made her flinch. “A month?”

“At least,” Sean repeated.

“It’s a bruise.”

“‘S a bruised rib, Melody,” Harry snapped.

Sean left without any goodbyes. Bea leaned up against the wall where he’d been standing and lifted an eyebrow. “Thought you had defenses like a brick wall,” she teased.

“Shut up,” Melody mumbled as Vanessa finished her work. The room fell silent.

“Do you want some ice for your face?” Vanessa asked eventually, when Melody had been avoiding everyone’s eyes and the rest of them were sick of looking at each other.

“No, I can just—”

“Yes, she’ll take some ice,” Harry cut in.

“You tend to interrupt people,” Melody informed him. She laid back gently against the pillows that had been propped up behind her. “Have you noticed?”

Bea snorted. “Pretty sure he does it on purpose,” she said before wandering out of the room. Vanessa glanced between Harry and Melody and then followed Bea. The tension that had already filled the air seemed to thicken, settling over the two of them like an unnavigable fog. Harry sliced through it first.

“This is why I don’ want yeh fighting,” he said.

“You’re such a hypocrite, Harry,” she muttered. Then her voice rose. “If you were still in the ring you’d be getting injured, too. And I—”

Harry ignored the sting that he felt, the knowledge that he couldn’t box in his current condition. What if she wasn’t able to write? These days it seemed just that she didn’t want to, but if she wasn’t able to, wouldn’t she feel this same sort of despair? “Mel, yeh bruised your fuckin’ rib.” He took a step further into the room. “A little more pressure and it breaks. A little less luck and it punctures a fuckin’ lung and yeh’re chokin’ on blood. These are not just injuries. Yeh didn’ just fall off a bike and scrape your knee.”

Melody paused. She didn’t know how to respond. That sounded like her own fears spit back in her face. A half inch to the left and that bullet would’ve killed you.

“Are you going to keep yelling?”

“‘M not fuckin’ yelling. Do yeh want me to yell?” Harry’s brows knitted together and he shook his head. “What did yeh expect, me to lay down next to yeh and tell yeh ‘m so glad yeh’re okay? ‘S not happenin’. Think I’ve made my feelings pretty clear when it comes to this.”

“Actually, I didn’t expect anything. I didn’t want to call you.” Melody licked her lips as she studied the anger etched into the lines of Harry’s face, and then the minuscule shift as he realized that Sean was on his side. At least in this moment. “It comes with being a boxer,” she said after a pause. “You told me that once.”

Harry sighed. “Yeh’re not a fuckin’ boxer, Mel. Yeh’re a writer. Yeh’re a painter.”

“I can be whatever the fuck I want to be, Harry. And you’re not going to tell me what that is.”

His features hardened for a moment and then he glanced out the window. There was snow falling, slowly and gently, without the force of the brutal wind that would arrive in the coming weeks. It was so peaceful out there, and Harry wondered how he’d let himself become so resentful.

He stared outside for a few long minutes and then let his eyes wander back to Melody, who was already picking absentmindedly at the wrappings of her ribcage. His legs were growing weary and he was on the verge of needing to sit. Melody glanced up when she felt the weight of his gaze.

“Can we go home now?” she asked, and her voice was so soft, so at odds with the way she’d spoken her last sentence, that Harry could feel himself physically jarred by the shift.

“I can’ help yeh walk,” he said, though the words tasted like acid. “Yeh’re gonna need Bea and I dunno where she went off to.”

Melody chewed on her lower lip. She felt guilty for the short argument they’d had, and she could see that same feeling reflected back at her. The match had tired her out, her bruised rib hurt with every expansive breath. In vain, tears began to collect at the corners of her reddening eyes.

“Don’,” Harry said, taking a shaky step forward. He could sense the shift even before he saw her chin trembling. “Please, don’.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” she murmured, pressing her fingers to her eyelids, as if they could keep the water back like a dam. “Uh, how was the movie?”

“It was good,” Harry assured her, surprising himself. He hadn’t known that he enjoyed it until then, when he was put on the spot. Bea appeared like she’d been summoned.

“I heard that!” she nearly shouted. “He liked it!” Then her eyes fell to Melody and her snide grin tipped into a frown. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” Melody said with a discrete sniffle. “Can someone ask Vanessa if we can leave?”

“She said you just need to take it easy for a few weeks.” Bea shuffled past Harry and pried Melody’s hands from her face. “Which means no training.”

“Perfect,” Melody mumbled. She allowed Bea to begin shifting her out of the bed, gently twisting her limbs, trying not to tweak her rib. Harry had to lower himself into the chair a few feet from where he had been standing to give his legs some relief.

“The wraps are just for you to get home.” Bea paused as Melody bit back a whimper, waiting for her to straighten her torso. “And she’s hooking you up with some pain meds.”

“Yeh’ll need ‘em,” Harry muttered. He stood back up as the girls made their way toward the door. They were a conspicuous group, with a cane, a wrapped ribcage, and shuffling footsteps. Eyes followed them through the halls, all the way to a cab.

***

Melody’s lips grew white as Harry helped her out of her wrappings. She screwed her eyes shut and her fingertips curled into his knee.

“Okay,” he whispered as he tugged the final loop of fabric loose, leaving her skin bare. The sight of her flesh made him hiss. “Who the fuck hit yeh, the Hulk?”

“Mmm.”

Harry pressed a hand to her cheek. Her skin was hot, damp, and he could feel her jaw twitching, like she might be grinding her teeth. Her breathing was shallow.

“Let’s get yeh some o’ those painkillers, yeah?”

“No, I’m okay,” she whispered, though her voice shook.

“Mel.” He pressed a kiss to one of her closed eyes. “I’ve had a bruised rib before.”

She didn’t respond. He heard her try to take a deeper breath and then felt her neck quiver beneath his fingertips. She shook with the effort of stifling a cough.

“Don’ do that.” He pressed her backward and she gasped, clinging to his arm and letting out an agonized sob at the sharp intake of breath. “‘M sorry,” he rushed. “Love, ‘m sorry. Just sit back for me.”

She let him lower her away from him, eyes still squeezed shut and chin beginning to tremble like it had in the hospital. Her eyelashes were wet and Harry touched his forehead to hers. “Okay?”

“No.”

He let out a short huff of acknowledgment and then lifted the pillow from beside them, holding it tenderly to her chest as he leaned back. “If yeh need to cough just hold this to your chest. ’S still gonna hurt but it’ll be better.”

There was a pause before she wrapped her arms around the pillow and sputtered out a few gentle coughs. Her eyelids fluttered, nails biting into her palms, lips curling into her mouth.

“Melody, yeh don’ have to pretend yeh’re not in fuckin’ pain,” Harry told her, pressing a hard kiss to her cheekbone. He brushed hair away from her forehead, carefully avoiding her bruise, and then used his thumb to pry her lips back into place before kissing them. “Not on my account. ‘M sorry I got angry. I don’ want yeh to fight. But if yeh’re hurtin’ like this ‘m not just gonna tell yeh to suck it up.”

Harry stroked her ear and her tensed facial muscles began to relax. Her lips parted. She opened her eyes to glance up at him and almost immediately let them fall closed again as she began to cry.

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled. He didn’t know whether it was for her or for himself. And he didn’t know if her tears were solely from the pain or for another reason entirely.

The mattress shifted despite his best efforts as Harry climbed off the bed. He hurried into the kitchen, gathering Melody’s prescription, a glass of water, and an ice pack. He almost didn’t even realize he’d forgotten his cane until he was laying himself down beside Melody, who had pulled the pillow up to cover the bottom half of her face, stifling her shallow sobs. But this wasn’t a moment to celebrate.

“All right, love, take some o’ these.” He shook out a few pills and reached across her for the glass he’d put on the night table. She lowered the pillow enough to toss the meds back and swallow a gulp of water, but Harry had to tug it from her grip so he could position the ice atop her angry, swelling bruise. Somehow, he’d finagled her bra over her head before attempting to unwrap her, and her breasts erupted in goosebumps at the cold touch.

“It fucking hurts,” she whimpered out.

“I know, I know.” Harry settled his hand over the ice pack, pressing his lips to Melody’s shoulder. “Give the pills a little bit o’ time.”

He fell silent and stroked her wrist with his free hand until her tears began to ebb. The clock read one in the morning. Bea had gone to bed as soon as they’d gotten home because she needed to work on a group project the next morning. Harry was beginning to feel tired himself, and he couldn’t imagine how exhausted Melody was.

“Just one problem after another,” he finally said. “Just can’ seem to catch a break, can we?”

“Wouldn’t life be so boring?”

He chuckled against her skin. “Just a little break would be nice, though.”

Melody didn’t respond. Her shallow breathing was beginning to slow. Harry kissed her cheek to check that she was truly asleep before he removed the ice pack from her side and very carefully covered her with the sheets. And he hoped that the rest of her healing would pass more smoothly than this first night.

Chapter 12

[skinks]

hi!!! what are your favourite movies? like actually good ones but also any trashy comfort movies? is IT (2017) one of them?

Hello!! IT (2017) IS ABSOLUTELY ONE OF THEM oh man, thank you for this, I love talking about movies!!!! This is possibly the most difficult question you could have asked me. Apologies for how absolutely off the rails this got, I just... love movies so much lmao

I’ve said this before, but opening night of IT ch1 was the best cinema experience I’ve ever had, I’m so glad I got to see it with a fully packed audience who were all laughing and screaming together the whole way through. I’m a huge fan of... everything ch1 was doing, the 80s nostalgia, the summer-coming-of-age themes, the solid ghost train funhouse JOY of the Pennywise performance and scares, the washed-out cinematography, the tiny background details to make everything that much more eerie, the kids’ ACTING?!

Like, a lot of the time I find child actors can be really awkward and stilted to watch, but I remember leaving the cinema really impressed by JDG and Sophia Lillis in particular. I liked that they were all allowed to be little shitheads with potty mouths, it felt like a callback to 80s movies like The Lost Boys or Stand By Me. The whole thing worked to make me really care about what happened to the kids (even if I do still have issues with how they handled Mike. I understand even ch1 had limitations with juggling so many characters, but still). I saw it another 2 times in the cinema and have rewatched it at least, I dunno, 7-10 more times since then?

Add to all of that the retroactive CANON R+E baby pining subplot? I just love it, as if that wasn’t obvious by now given my Whole Blog. It’s a really special movie to me!

Anyway!! Ok, the main handful of movies I rewatch all the fucking time are:

Back to the Future, The Lost Boys, Pride and Prejudice (2005), Jaws, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Breakfast Club, Ocean’s 11, POTC 1, The Dark Knight, Inception, Die Hard, LOTR trilogy, Snatch, The Nice Guys, Logan Lucky, Mad Max Fury Road, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, Billy Elliot, Dirty Dancing, Tomb Raider (2018)...

Those are the easily consumable ones that I’ve seen so many times I don’t really have to concentrate or think about them, but I really love them and unfortunately often KEEP rewatching them instead of new stuff. It would take too long to go into why I love all these movies so much because I could write the same amount as I already did for ITCH1, and everyone already knows why those movies are good, so, lol.

I think I’m gonna have to subdivide and categorise this whole post because there are too many separate criteria for... goOD MOVIES, AUUHH 😩

Okay so first off, HORROR MOVIES? I’m especially in love with Re-Animator (1985) and its sequel Bride of Re-Animator, they’re such good examples of camp and batshit 80s practical effects, and also EXTREMELY funny. I’m actually just gonna post my list of my fave horror movies that I do actually keep on my phone at all times lmao. These are in no particular order:

Wholeheartedly recommend every one of these. I’ve never been so scared in my life as I was watching Hereditary in the cinema, hoo boy. Mother! by Aronofsky is one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had (and I actually saw it on the same day I saw IT ch1 for the first time!! That was a fun day)

Psycho (1960) and The Fly from 1986 should also be on there but I couldn’t fit them in the screenshot.

I’m a HUGE fan of a ton of martial arts movies too, like Kung Fu Hustle, Shaolin Soccer, Ip Man, The Raid movies, John Wick 3 is my fave of the trilogy, Drive from 1997 with Mark Dacascos is incredible, SPL 2, Ong-Bak, Operation Condor, Project A, Iron Monkey, and Zatoichi (2003) are some favourites.

My favourite Tarantino is Reservoir Dogs, fave Coen brothers are Raising Arizona, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and O Brother Where Art Thou. Love some old-timey colour correction and weird offbeat dialogue. I also love Goodfellas!!! And Donnie Brasco! And The Firm, I’m so easy for any good crime/law/gangster/heist procedural like that, especially if they’re from the 80s or 90s in a super dated way.

Fave Disney movie is Tarzan, favourite Ghibli movies are Spirited Away and Lupin III. I remember watching Spirited Away during a thunderstorm one time and it being.... god! Transcendent! Favourite Pixar movie is The Incredibles (the first one. ALSO the documentary “The Pixar Story” is great and well worth a watch, it’s very comforting for some reason) and my favourite Dreamworks movies are HTTYD1 and Spirit: Stallion of the Cimmaron.

I tend to watch more anime movies than tv shows, so stuff like Akira, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Summer Wars, Journey to Agartha, and my ultimate fave anime is Sword of the Stranger (2008). The climactic fight in that movie is fucking stunning and should be counted in “bests fights” lists right alongside anything live action

Also if we’re talking animated movies another hearty favourite is Rango, and a Belgian stop-motion (which at one time I considered my favourite movie ever) called Panique Au Village (2009) which is one of the funniest movies ever made imo.

As for TRASHY movies, I’m not sure if that’s the right word for how I feel about these ones but.. dumb/silly/slightly guilty pleasure movies? Ones that I feel need some kind of justification lmfao

Troy - something u must know about me is that I’m a giant slut for the Assassin’s Creed franchise, so if a movie smashes historical and mythological nonsense together with fun costumes and sword fights, I’m gonna enjoy myself. Even if they should have made Achilles and Patroclus gay. Other movies in this vein are King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, and Immortals (2011)

Gods of Egypt - I know all the reasons this movie is whitewashed bullshit. But it was already bullshit with giant Anubis mecha and giant snakes and bad acting and ridiculous CGI and frankly I had a blast at the cinema (my friend who I forced to come with me did not have a blast. Sorry H***)

Avatar - yes, the one with the big blue people. This movie gets a lot of flack nowadays but I really do enjoy it just for the spectacle. The full CGI world technology was so new at the time and I love to wallow in the visuals and daydream about riding a cool dragon around in the jungle

George of the Jungle - I’ll defend this movie to the death ok this movie shaped me as a person, it is fucking hilarious and Brendan Fraser is the himbo to end all himbos. It’s perfect. The song Dela is perfect. I still want to write a reddie AU about it. It’s one of the best movies ever made and I’m not being ironic

Set It Up - I KNOW this is a dumb Netflix original romcom but consider this; it was funny and the leads had great chemistry. I got butterflies. I once watched it and then literally immediately set it back to the start so I could watch it again

The Brady Bunch Movie - when people talk about great satires or parodies you will see them bring up the same movies over and over again, Blazing Saddles, This Is Spinal Tap etc, but they never talk about The Brady Bunch Movie from 1995 for some reason, which they should. It is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen and every time i watch it somehow it gets funnier

Some more general favourites that I do still love but don’t rewatch as often, and don’t wanna go into more detail about are:

Moon (2009), Crna Mačka Beli Mačor, The Sixth Sense, Parasite, The Handmaiden, Tremors, Wet Hot American Summer, Tucker and Dale vs Evil, What We Do In The Shadows, Hunt For the Wilderpeople, The Secret of My Success (I love kitschy 80s movies, is that obvious by now), The Green Mile, When Harry Met Sally, Rear Window, The Odd Couple, Breaking Away, Pan’s Labyrinth, To Kill A Mockingbird, The Eagle, Gladiator, The Artist, The Extraordinary Adventures of Adèle Blanc-Sec, Call Me By Your Name, Master and Commander, Pacific Rim, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Legend (1985), Emma. (2020), Flash Gordon, Trolljegeren, Hross í Oss, Beverly Hills Cop, Coming to America, WarGames, District 9, Ajeossi (2010), Tracks (2013), Sightseers, Mud (2012), Pitch Black, Four Lions, Shaun of the Dead, Starship Troopers, The Truman Show, Withnail & I....... Jesus Christ ok I need to stop

NOTABLE EXTREME FAVOURITES that I didn’t include in the regular rewatch list because they’re too heavy/not as well known/require more attention.:

Thin Red Line (1998), Badlands (1973) both dir. Terrence Malick

Malick’s brand of dreamy impressionistic filmmaking is something I find really appealing, both of these movies are gorgeous and unusual and poignant and, in the case of Thin Red Line at least, have a lot of things to say about a lot of rough subjects. I don’t totally understand all those things sometimes, but a theme with a lot of my favourite movies is that I’ll be more likely to love something long-term if it raises unanswered questions, or is surreal/esoteric etc. Plus the cinematography is incredible, and I wish there was a way to get Jim Caviezel’s narration from The Thin Red Line as an audiobook because it’s very poetic and soothing.

Let the Bullets Fly (2010) dir. Jiang Wen

This movie is WILD, it’s so much fun. It’s sprawling and intricate and epic and smart and really fucking funny, it! Has! Everything! A gang of very tolerant outlaws!! Jiang Wen’s beautiful broad chest!!! Chow Yun Fat absolutely DECIMATING the scenery, and the two of them outsmarting each other in order to gain control of a small Chinese town!!! Plus it’s long, but it packs so much nonsense and intrigue that it goes by really fast. Wow what a flick

A Field in England (2013) dir. Ben Wheatley

I know I included this in my horror list but aaaaahhh ahhhh Wheatley is one of my favourite directors (he also made Sightseers, and is directing the Tomb Raider sequel which makes me absolutely rabid.) This is a surreal black-and-white psychological horror black comedy set in the English Civil War about some deserters who may or may not meet the Devil in a field. People eat mushrooms. It’s bonkers. I love being blasted in the face with imagery that I don’t understand

Mandy (2018) dir. Panos Cosmatos

Speaking of being blasted in the face!!!!! This movie... I saw it in the cinema and I can’t even begin to explain the experience, but I’ll try. My favourite review site described it like this:

“...somewhere between a prog album cover come to life and a metal album cover come to life, and subscribes to both genre's artistic tendency towards maximalism: what it ends up being is basically naught else but two glorious hours of being pounded by bold colors...”

So, prog and metal are my two favourite genres of music. This movie opens with the quote “When I die, bury me deep, lay two speakers at my feet, put some headphones on my head and rock and roll me when I'm dead.” and then a King Crimson song, it is SURREAL to the nth degree, it’s violent and bizarre and Nic Cage forges a giant silver axe to destroy demonic bikers and there is a CHAINSAW DUEL. A galaxy swirls above a quarry. Multiple animated horror nightmare sequences. At one point a man says “you exude a cosmic darkness” and releases a live tiger. At another point Cage says, in a digitally deepened voice, “The psychotic drowns where the mystic swims. You’re drowning. I’m swimming.” and I haven’t stopped thinking about it for two years

Paper Moon (1973) dir. Peter Bogdanovich

Really fantastic movie set in the Great Depression (and also in black & white) about a conman and a little kid who may or may not be his daughter, running cons across the Midwest. It’s beautifully shot, so sharp and sweet and the progression of their dynamic is really well done because they’re played by an IRL father and daughter. Tatum O’Neal was NINE YEARS OLD and she’s so amazing in this movie she’s actually the youngest person to win a competitive category Oscar. I keep trying to get people to watch this fbdjfjdbf it’s wonderful

Alpha (2018) dir. Albert Hughes

THIS MOVIE IS A VICTIM OF BAD MARKETING ok, the trailers made it look like some twee crappy sentimental Boy And His Dog Adventure, plus it had voiceovers in American-accented english? That’s a total disservice to one of the coolest things about this film; the fact that they got a linguist to construct an entirely original Neolithic language that all the characters speak for the entire runtime. And yes, it is eventually a Boy And His Wolf adventure, but it’s COOL and fairly brutal, and it has some really incredible cinematography. The landscapes are so strange and barren and alien, you really get the sense that this is an ancient world we no longer have any connection to. And it’s also about like, the birth of dog & human companionship sooo it’s perfect.

Free Solo (2018) dir. Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, Jimmy Chin

The Free Climbing Documentary. I loved climbing as a kid, I love outdoor sports, and I love movies that elicit a physical reaction in me, whether that’s horny, scared, real laughter, overwhelming shivers, or in the case of Free Solo - HORRIBLE SWEATING TENSION. Like, I knew about Alex Honnold beforehand because of this adventure film festival I go to every year and I followed him on IG so obviously I knew he lived, but the actual climb itself was torture. My hands sweat every time I see it!! It’s incredible, such a cool look into generally what the human body can do, and more specifically, why Honnold’s psychology and life means he’s so well suited to free soloing. It’s such an exercise in getting to know an individual and get invested in them, before they attempt something very potentially fatal.

Brokeback Mountain (2005) dir. Ang Lee

I can’t even talk about this. When I was around 13 I snuck downstairs to watch this on TV at 11pm in secret, and my life was forever changed. I wouldn’t be who I am if I hadn’t seen Brokeback at the age I did. I seriously can’t talk about this or I’ll write an even longer essay than this already is

God’s Own Country (2017) dir. Francis Lee

The antidote to Brokeback Mountain, I’m so glad I managed to see this one in the cinema too. It makes me cry every time, as someone who’s spent years working on a cold British farm with sheep it was very realistic, which is expected since Lee grew up on a farm in Yorkshire. I love that this movie isn’t really about being closeted, but about being so emotionally repressed and self-loathing that the main character finds it so hard to accept love. Or that he deserves to be loved. The cinnamontographies.... lordt... but also the intimacy and sex scenes are fucking searing wow who hasn’t seen this movie by now. 10 stars. 20 stars!!!

Tomboy (2011) dir. Céline Sciamma

I saw this years ago but I’ve never forgotten it, it cut so deep. It’s from the director of Portrait of a Lady on Fire and it’s about a gnc kid struggling with gender and misogyny and homophobia in a really raw, scrappy way, it reminded me very much of my own... childhood... ahh the central performance is amazing for such a young age. I haven’t seen Portrait yet but I feel like if you went nuts for that, you should definitely check this out, it’s lovely.

Donnie Darko (2001) dir. Richard Kelly

EVERY TIME I WATCH THIS MOVIE I UNDERSTAND LESS AND LESS and that’s what I love so much about it. I love surreal movies, I love time-fuckery and stuff about altered perception etc etc and Donnie Darko scratches all my itches. I wish I could find a way to figure out an IT AU for it, because I know it would work! Somehow! Plus it’s got the subdued 80s nostalgia and I found it at an age when I was really starting to explore movies and music and the soundtrack FUCKS.

Offside (2006) dir. Jafar Panahi

I wish more people knew about this!!! It’s an Iranian film about a disparate group of women and girls who are football fans and want to watch Iran’s qualifying match for the World Cup, but women aren’t allowed into the stadium, so they all get thrown into the Stadium Jail together? They don’t know each other beforehand, but it’s about their changing relationships with each other and the guards and just, their defiance alongside hearing the match from the outside and WOW it’s so lively. Great dialogue and very funny, and such a different kind of story from anything you usually see from Hollywood.

The Fall (2006) dir. Tarsem Singh

This movie... I guess it’s the ideal. This is the platonic ideal of a film for me, it has fantasy, magical realism, glorious visuals, amazing score and costumes and production design and a really interesting, heartbreaking relationship at the core of it. I don’t know why so many of my favourite films feature incredibly raw performances by child actors but this is another one, Catinca Untaru barely knew any English and improvised so much because of that, and it’s fascinating to watch! Also the dynamic with Lee Pace is one of my favourites, where a kid forms a friendship with a guardian figure who isn’t their parent, but the guardian grows to really care for them by the end. It’s like Paper Moon in that sense. What is there to even say about this movie, it’s pure magic joy tempered and countered by genuine gutwrenching emotional conflict in the real world, it’s also ABOUT old moviemaking, in a way, and it’s stunning to look at!

Mad Max Fury Road (2015) dir. George Miller

I know I included this in my “most rewatched” section but it deserves its own thing. We all know why this movie is fucking incredible. I remember clutching my armrests in the cinema and feeling like my skeleton was being blasted back into the seat behind me and tbh that is the high I’m constantly chasing when I go to see any movie. What a fucking gift this film is

Théo et Hugo dans le Même Bateau (2016) dir. Olivier Ducastel, Jacques Martineau

I only found this movie last year and it became an instant favourite. Initially I was just curious because I’d never seen a movie with unsimulated sex before, but it’s so much more than the 18 minute gay sex club orgy it opens with. No, not more than, AS WELL AS. The orgy is important because this movie is so candid and frank about sex and HIV treatment in the modern day, it was eye-opening. Another thing that really got me is that I’d never seen a real-time film before. It’s literally an hour and a half in the lives of these two men, their intense connection and conversation and conflict in the middle of the night in Paris, with some really nice night photography and just!!! Wow!!! AMAZING CHEMISTRY between the actors. This is such a gem if you’re comfortable with explicit sexual content.

Ok. This is already over 3k but film is obviously one of my ridiculous passions and I can and do talk about it for hours. I’ve been reading magazines about it for years, listening to podcasts and reading review blogs and recently, watching video essays on YouTube because the whole process is so interesting to me and I want to learn more!!

Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of valuing form over narrative. The idea that story can often come second to the deeper physical experience and emotional reaction that’s created by using ALL the elements of filmmaking and not just The Story, y’know? Whether that’s editing, shot composition, colour, the sound mix, the actors, how it should all be used to heighten the emotional state the script wants you to feel. And so, I think for a few years now this approach has been influencing the types of films I really, really love.

I think I love surreality and mind-bending magical realism in films specifically because the filmmakers have to use all those different tools to convey things that can be way too metaphysical for just... a script? I’m always chasing that physical response; if a movie can make me stop thinking “I wonder what it was like to set up that shot” and instead overwhelm that suspension of disbelief, if I can be terrified or woozy or crying for whatever reason, that’s what I’m looking for. That’s why I watch so many fuckin movies, and why I’ll always remember nights like seeing IT (2017) for giving me another favourite.

Thank you again for this question, I didn’t mean to go so overboard. Also there’s no way to do a readmore on tumblr mobile so apologies to anyone’s dashboard 😬

[slimy-vore-bog]

Going Through Lots of Denial

Alternate title: Encounter with another Beast

Alright this story is definitely not to everyone’s taste... (pun intended) Let’s get the warnings/contains out of the way (mostly warnings this time)

Contains: prey Luz and Amity, feral pred, a tiny bit of lumity, (Luz is completely convinced Amity’s dead in one point in the story) assumed fatal vore (but both characters make it out alive) mentions of hard vore, mentions of digestion. (Luz also assumes she bumps into Amity’s remains after she’s eaten, but Amity quickly screams back, so it sorta becomes a funny scene?)

Either way... This is not much worse than a child accidentally seeing an 13+ animated movie on accident, in terms of how bad it is.

(most of the shock comes from the unexpected, but I don’t want to not warn people properly. Not since Worrying; I felt really bad ‘bout that one)

So the rating is 13+ for the somewhat unsettling imagery (and some minorly depressive tones after Amity’s eaten)

This is the pred character, but I do describe him in the story itself: The Beast I was too Lazy to Name

word count: 6.5 k

***

Luz and Amity were taking a stroll through the forest, Luz had gently grabbed the other girls had a couple minutes ago. Amity seemed nervous, but Luz did her best to convince the young witch everything was going to be fine. That was why she had opted to hold her hand. Totally not because she wanted to hold her hand and just the thought made her flustered. That was definitely not it. The only reason her heart was fluttering was, because it was dark and they were both nervous… Definitely.

Amity’s hand felt clammy against hers. The green haired witch’s gaze flicked to her and away again, but she never did anything to protest the hand holding. She even leaned a bit into Luz while they walked. But that had to be because the witch was anxious too.

Luz shifted her shoulders, feeling a bit awkward, “so, what about the forest is so dangerous?” Amity had mentioned some sort of beast that lived out there, but she couldn’t remember why exactly the beast was something to be feared. “The thing that lived out here hasn’t been spotted in a while, right? Maybe it’s dead?” They hadn’t run into anything scary yet, and they were quite far into the forest at this point.

Amity looked at Luz with an unreadable expression. “Or maybe the beast has just caught the last few witches that saw it.”

A chill went through Luz’s body. “There’s no way, Amity!” Luz spoke louder in her unease. “It can’t be that hard to not get caught by that thing you told me about.” Luz paused. “What does it even look like?” She couldn’t remember if Amity described the creature.

Amity thought about it for a couple seconds. “It’s over twelve feet from the ground to the shoulders… It looks like a manticore, but without the batwings and the scorpion tail… It has bird legs in front, and a giant underbite…” Amity let go of Luz’s hand while thinking about it. “I think there’s something about the tail… It’s scaly.”

They continued to walk beside each other, now more on edge than before. Neither of the girls made the move to grab the other’s hand again. “So it’s a lion with a scaly tail and bird legs? Does it have a mane?” Luz didn’t know if that meant it was male or female, having learnt about maned lionesses before, but she wanted to know what to look for.

Amity nodded. “It does have a mane.” She thought about Luz other question. “I guess it is like a lion, but it doesn’t have spikes across its back and two tails. A regular lion doesn’t have all the traits of the beast either.”

Of course, a lion wouldn’t look like an earth lion there. Luz should have guessed that. If there wasn’t a Boiling Isles equivalent, Amity wouldn’t have known what that even was. “There’s sure a lot of creatures that looks like earth lions here,” she stated with a bit of a laugh to her voice. Her smile faded, as a thought hit her. “But if it does find us, what exactly are we supposed to do?” Luz didn’t want an encounter with a twelve-foot-tall lion, but she wanted to know what to do if it did find them.

Amity tensed. “I don’t know…” She glanced over at Luz, before her a realization hit her. “You’re human! I don’t know what humans are supposed to do… If I get caught, please just run without trying to save me.”

Luz had no idea what Amity was on about. Was there a protocol for getting caught by a monster? “I’m not going to leave you to die! Amity, let’s just head back before anything happens.”

Amity nodded, relieved at Luz’s suggestion to head back. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

Luz wished that was how it had ended. Amity and her deciding to head home, maybe Amity and Luz having a sleepover at the Owl House due to how late it was. But, of course, she wasn’t lucky enough for that. She would have to live through something traumatic to ever get something half as good.

It was eerie to walk through the quiet and dark forest. Luz could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up at the slightest shuffle of pine needles. Even the ones that rustled under Amity’s shoes, nearly made her jump. Amity had suggested getting left behind for Luz’s sake and Luz wasn’t going to let that happen. She had grabbed a tight hold of Amity’s hand; there was no way Amity was leaving her side now.

Amity’s hand was holding onto hers too, but it wasn’t as tightly. They walked in silence, glancing into the forest and back out on the path they were following. Amity’s ears twitched and turned from time to time, her grip tightening when she heard something Luz couldn’t. But it turned out to be nothing.

“I think there’s something stalking after us,” whispered Amity, making Luz jump and eep in surprise from the sound of her voice alone. “Sorry…” she apologized quietly. “But I swear I can hear something walking out there.”

Luz couldn’t hear a thing, but there was no reason to take risks. “Alright; is it better to walk or run?” she knew that running from a normal lion would cause it to give chase, but maybe the Boiling Isles were the opposite.

“We need to walk, and seem like we’re not worth eating.” Amity let go of her hand. “We can’t match anything like that in size…” She thought about it for a few seconds. “I’m going to summon an abomination.” She cast the spell, as the abomination rose from ground. It was puny compared to the one she had made grom night, but it was still taller than her. “It can defend us, if anything is out there.”

It groaned behind them, staring down at them with the hollow sad look in its eyes.

Amity commanded it to be quiet. It stopped the noises immediately, but still stared down at its creator.

Luz grabbed Amity’s hand again, slowly moving towards the Owl House. But Amity didn’t seem to want to hold her hand anymore. Luz wouldn’t let go when Amity told her to. “I’m not going let you fall behind, if we have to run!”Luz couldn’t explain how horrible the thought of that was. She unintentionally tightened her grip on Amity’s hand. “If you get eaten; it would be my fault!”

Amity shushed her. “Please be quiet!” she hissed out. She spoke, after calming down. “If the beast hasn’t found us yet; it’s going to.” Amity’s ears twitched, as she heard something even Luz could hear. The quiet slow pats of something hitting the pine needles just beyond the trees.

They both stood completely still, watching as the creature stepped out from behind the cover of trees.

Amity’s description hadn’t done the creature justice. If Luz had known it looked like that, she would never had taken the risk of heading out into the forest. Luz took a step away from it, clutching onto Amity’s hand.

The lion watched them with intense orange eyes. Its mane was dark and matted, and so was the fur on its legs… At least where there was fur. Its front legs were birdlike and covered in thick reddish-brown scales, ending in long claws that could pierce through them with tiniest amount of pressure. It began to drool, as it watched them.

Luz took another step away, tightening her grip on Amity’s hand. Its tail, the same color as its legs, flicked, as it focused on Luz. It tilted its head, before she could see its nose twitch. Its mouth was wide. Luz noticed just how wide that was, as it dragged its split tongue the entire way across its mouth. A couple teeth stuck out towards end of it. It opened its mouth to adjust its huge fangs in the bottom of it over its upper lip. It was bone thin, even some of its spine was visible.

It felt like she watched the starved creature for hours, but at most a few seconds had passed.

Amity yelled her command to the abomination in a panic, “Abomination attack!” She tightened her grip on Luz’s hand, before she began running away from the creature dragging Luz after her. “Run, Luz!”

It took Luz a second, before she managed to get her legs to work, but when she did, she immediately outran Amity, dragging her behind her instead. The lion growled. Luz could hear splatting noises behind them, before it gave chase.

Its footfalls were loud, and felt like thunder in Luz’s panicked ears. Her adrenaline was in top gear, as she made the decision to run in between the trees. Amity had managed to match Luz’s speed. Luz wasn’t sure she wouldn’t get lost, but getting lost would be nowhere as bad as eaten.

She realized she would have to let go of Amity’s hand, if they wanted to escape. It was slowing both of them down to hold onto each other. “This way!” Luz yelled, after letting go off Amity, and changing directions sharply. Amity followed just behind her.

The lion barely took notice of the sharp turn it had to make.

It was catching up to Amity already, and before another second passed Luz heard the girl scream.

“LUZ!” The thundering footfalls stopped, and Luz skidded to a halt. She spun around to see Amity pinned under the beast’s claws, as it dragged her farther away from Luz.

Luz let out a scream of her own. No words could express the horror she felt as she watched the lion drag Amity away from her. She couldn’t even scream her name.

A burst of anger exploded in her.

She immediately broke out of her horrified trance, running towards the lion with a handful of light glyphs. It was not going to eat Amity.

She activated them two feet from the lion’s face, while it watched her in confusion. It let go of Amity, and Luz help her up to her feet again. “Come on! We can still get away!” Amity dizzily stumbled on her legs panting for breath, before she managed to stand up straight, still trying to catch her breath. Luz began dragging her away from the lion, and tried to get Amity to run. “Come on, Amity!” Amity finally got her legs working, but she was nowhere near as quick as before. “Please, I can’t leave you behind!” Her eyes stung, as she pulled on Amity even harder, trying desperately to get her to go faster.

The lion grumbled and snarled behind them; Luz knew they didn’t have long, before it would be chasing after them again. She knew that it was hopeless, but she would never be able to live with herself, if she didn’t try her hardest to save Amity. “Amity, please!” She hadn’t felt so desperate to save someone for a long time. She felt the tears stinging in her eyes finally fall.

Amity gave up completely. “Luz, you have to leave me behind. I promise I’ll figure out a way to get out of here alive, but if you’re caught I can’t.” Luz wanted to protest, but Amity continued before she got a word in. “Please, just save yourself.” The beast was ready to chase them again. Amity looked at the lion, casting a fire spell. “Get away, Luz!” She held the flame close Luz’s arm. “I’ll burn you, if you don’t run right now!”

Luz involuntarily took a step back. She tried to grab Amity, but she moved the flame to where Luz was trying to grab her. “Amity!” She couldn’t believe what the girl was doing. Was she trying to get herself killed? But Luz didn’t get a long time to think about it, before Amity tried to set her on fire again.

She backed away, watching the panicked look in Amity’s eyes. The lion watched what they were doing, carefully, before it hesitantly stalked towards them. “Luz, just go!” shouted Amity, before the lion sprinted towards them and grabbed Amity by the legs. It quickly began dragging Amity away again.

Luz stared in disbelief, feeling her skin itch after Amity had tried to set her on fire. She had hit her with the flame. The lion watched Luz with a scowl, before it flipped Amity over on her back, sniffing her hungrily. Luz ran towards the lion, but as soon as she did; it grabbed Amity in its mouth, running towards Luz, leaping over her.

Luz only registered happened, after the lion was running away from her. She sprinted after it, as soon as she realized what it just did. “AMITY!” She screamed after it and her friend.

It stopped to look back at Luz for a moment; it had already nearly put a two-hundred feet distance between them. Luz could still see Amity struggling in the beast’s jaw. At least the beast hadn’t killed her by biting her into her, when it landed on the ground.

The lion dropped her on the ground, letting her get up on her feet, before it grabbed her again, shoving her straight into its mouth.

Luz’s heart skipped a beat in pure shock. This was happening. Amity was getting eating in front of her eyes. She couldn’t move a muscle, as her body was frozen in horror. Any moment Amity would be chewed to a bloody mess, or ripped apart by the massive teeth and claws the beast had.

The lion tilted its head back, before more of Amity disappeared into its giant mouth.

It took Luz a second to realize what it was doing, but when she did, she could do nothing but stare in horror. She backed away, her brain still processing what it meant. Amity was being swallowed alive by the lion… The lion was swallowing Amity alive… Luz’s gaze fell on the beast stomach.

Luz couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe, and she was suddenly aware of how out of breath she was. She collapsed into the forest floor, watching as the lion jerked its head forward and Amity disappeared from the outside world. Luz squeezed her eyes shut in pain, letting her tears run down her cheeks. She began crying, sobbing in between the burning breaths she was taking. She couldn’t move an inch, even if she wanted to. Everything hurt. Her legs, her heart, her lungs, and her arms; they all hurt, and she was completely exhausted.

She looked up at the lion seeing the last of a bump on the its throat move farther into its body, before it licked its lips, its split tongue dragging across its whiskers. It barely took a couple more seconds, before a slight bump protruded at the low end of its ribcage. She squeezed her eyes shut once more, knowing that that bump on the malnourished creature’s body was Amity.

She could hear the creature step closer to her, but she couldn’t find the energy to fight for her life. The only thing she could feel was the dread as the creature moved closer. Her efforts in trying to save Amity had been in vain and now she couldn’t even live for Amity’s sake… She should have run the moment Amity told her to.

The lion slowly strolled over to her with a content joy in its orange eyes. It licked Luz’s face a couple times, before it grabbed Luz by the back of her hoodie, not trying to eat her just yet. It walked deeper into the forest, with the defeated girl limply hanging from the creature’s jaw.

Luz felt exhausted, but unable to sleep, as the beast carried her to its den. Amity was undoubtably dead in its belly now; there was no way she could breathe in there. It put Luz down next to some bones that were splintered beyond recognition.

Luz watched the lion, as it began cleaning itself. It dragged its snakelike tongue through its matted fur, but it barely made any progress in brushing out the knots. Yet it still continued washing its fur. Luz wondered if it knew how much it hurt her by eating Amity, as it groomed the fur on its chest.

It gave up after a couple minutes of this, and walked over to a big pile of pine needles, before lying down in it and yawning. It rolled over on its side, exposing its slight too round belly.

Despite feeling like crying again; Luz realized that if the lion went to sleep that could be her chance to escape. She could still make Amity’s death count for something. She was going to make it out alive for Amity. She had to get back and tell people what had happened.

It only took a minute for it to fall asleep. It looked like it was in the middle of the best sleep it had ever gotten, as its face relaxed into a “smile”. It almost made Luz want to kick it awake. It had killed Amity… It deserved it. But she had to stay calm and leave the cave it slept in without getting noticed.

She carefully got up on her legs, not making a single noise, as she took the first couple steps towards the exit. The lion didn’t react, other than a particularly deep sigh. Luz faced the lion, as she took another hesitant step toward the exit. The lion still didn’t wake up, but Luz wasn’t relaxing until she was out of that cave.

It went on like that, the lion peacefully sleeping, and Luz backing away, before Luz finally stood under the trees again. Her legs were aching from her adrenaline fueled run earlier, but she was convinced she could make it far enough that she wouldn’t get caught again.

She kept backing away, until she unwittingly backed into a tree. She slammed her head into it in surprise, but she managed to keep herself from crying out in pain. She finally decided to turn her back on the lion and the cave.

She couldn’t run, and she had no idea where she was. The fact that she had lost Amity to a hungry beast definitely didn’t help either. She wanted to wake up, but this wasn’t a dream; she knew it wasn’t. The burns on her arm were too real, and so was the pain in her heart from the loss of her friend. And her exhaustion. Nothing about this was a nightmare; everything was too real.

Luz shivered, feeling the cold night air on her bare arms. When she was with Amity, she knew that they could just snuggle up together, if they were really cold and lost, but now… Amity wasn’t there, and she would never be ever again. The thought itself weighed her down to the point of near collapsing, but she wasn’t far enough away from the lion’s den.

The only thoughts that kept her going was Amity’s last wish, and the thought of Eda and King waiting for her to come home. She would come home to them again. She had to.

She felt her legs shake under her, but she knew she could make it somewhere. Maybe she wouldn’t make it to the Owl House, but she could make it to town. Or another nearby building. She hoped she wasn’t wandering straight into another beast’s territory, or further into the forest.

She continued walking in the same direction, despite everything that hurt. She didn’t want to think about what happened to her friend. Instead, her mind felt hollow, as she barely had the energy to move on foot in front of the other.

It continued like that for minutes, and every step felt like it took all the energy out of her. She no longer thought of Amity’s last wish as her driving force; that would mean she had to think of Amity. She focused completely on getting home to Eda and King. Thinking of Amity took too much energy out of her.

Minutes turned to over an hour and she still had no clue where she was. Everything felt real and fake at the same time, but she had given up any hope of waking up from this living nightmare.

She eventually realized that she couldn’t move a step farther and slumped down against a nearby tree. She didn’t want to sleep, but after everything that had happened; her body knocked her out on its own.

She woke up to the snarling and growling from the lion, as it was barely a foot from her face. She screamed, slamming her head into the tree in her panic to get away. She tried to stand up, but the lion held her back with a single foot. It only took a moment to lick at her, before it opened its mouth.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately kicked against the creature’s leg. But it barely took any notice of her struggling, as it shoved her into its mouth. It lifted her up off the ground. It continued to lap at her as she felt it starting to feel it walking.

She swung her leg into the creature’s jaw, but it barely took notice of it. She felt powerless, as it threw its head back and sent her flying into its throat. She tried to squirm in its throat, but nothing could help her anymore. The lion was quick to swallow again, sending her farther into its body.

She tried to push herself back into its mouth by writhing backwards, but its throat kept shoving her down. She hadn’t even entirely realized what was happening yet; her mind was still half asleep, despite the panic.

Her legs were the only thing left of her in the lion’s mouth was her legs, but it barely took it a second to swallow them down too. It still didn’t click in her mind what was happening to her, the only thing that registered was how scolding hot it was to her cold body.

The smell of the lion’s gut nearly made her want to puke, as her head was quickly squeezed into the belly of the lion. But she knew something was off, as her head bumped into something that wasn’t the slime flesh it should have been.

Despite the heat of the creature’s body; she felt a chill running through her body, making everything hair stand on end, as she screamed. That could only be the remains of Amity’s body.

But to Luz’s shock; the thing moved, before it screamed too.

She stopped screaming immediately, and the last of her body was forced down into the creature’s stomach. Was that Amity? How could she possibly still be alive in there? There was no way it was her! But that scream sounded so familiar. She reached into her pocket, but the water damaged paper tore apart between her fingers.

The stomach lit up in a light purple shine, as Amity casted a spell. Luz felt weird, as small pang of something that felt like an electric shock went through her entire body.

Luz stared where she had seen Amity’s face just a second before. “Amity? How are you still alive in here?” Luz hadn’t believed her eyes in those few seconds she had seen Amity. But she was there; she felt it, as the small space forced Luz to lie on top of Amity.

Amity cast a light spell, her eyes wide in panic. The girl ignored Luz’s question “How did you get caught? I thought you got away from it! It’s been hours!”

Luz didn’t know how to respond. She took a breath, trying to ignore the foul smells. “I thought you died and I couldn’t bring myself to move!” She had a hard time processing what the hell was going on. “I’m sorry… If I had run; I could have gotten help.”

“That doesn’t explain why it’s been hours!” Amity looked past Luz. “The thing slept for two hours!” She held out two fingers, as she seemed more annoyed than scared. “And as soon as it woke up it growled and chased you down!”

The beast growled above them; it was probably annoyed by the fact that its belly was being so noisy.

Luz explained what had happened to her, before shifting back to the fact that Amity was still alive. “But I still don’t get how you’re alive…” It obviously wasn’t that she was upset with that fact, but she didn’t understand why Amity wouldn’t have told her she would be fine.

Amity shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry that I didn’t explain anything to you… I know a spell, but I didn’t want to give you false hope in case the beast ripped me apart.” She took a moment to look at Luz, before she looked away again. “I figured with its wide mouth; it would probably swallow its prey whole.” Amity looked back at Luz, who was a little baffled that Amity had put that much thought into it. “It’s standard procedure.”

Luz nodded, “so, what’s the plan now?” She hoped that Amity did have a plan. Or at least knew of something they could do.

Amity summoned her scroll. “Don’t laugh, but I had to message my brother and my sister over Penstagram.” She looked over the messages. “Hold on, Ed has seen it!” Amity stared expectantly at the magic device, but nothing was happening just yet. She looked up at Luz. “Do you think he believes me? Should I have included a picture?”

Luz couldn’t help being a bit amused at the thought of taking a picture inside a lion’s stomach. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” She suppressed a snicker, before continuing. “But if you think it’s going to help, sure, anything to get out of here sooner.”

Amity gave a quick nod, snapping a picture. “Do you have any idea where exactly its cave is?”

Luz thought about it. She was carried quite a while… They had run into the forest and then taken a turn… So they had been following the path. Problem was she had no idea if it were to the north, west, east or south of the path. “It’s to the left of the path from where we walked into the forest.”

“That’s in the northern part of the forest…” Amity wrote a quick message to follow the picture. “Do you remember any landmarks?” She looked at Luz expectantly, but she couldn’t remember anything other than feeling sorry for herself.

“The cave is pretty big…” She felt embarrassed. “I didn’t see anything else eye-catching.”

She gave another nod. “So the beast lives in a cave at the northern part of the forest…” She sent the message to her brother. “That could be enough for them to figure out where we are…”

Luz didn’t like the sound of that. “Could be? What are we going to do if they don’t find us?” She knew that Amity couldn’t keep them alive forever. “You do have a back-up plan, right?”

“I think the lion will throw us up eventually…” Amity looked up where the lion’s head was. “It’s hopefully going to realize we aren’t digesting properly…” she trailed off, looking ashamed. “I really don’t have any plans after that; there’s not a lot I can do…”

They both fell quiet after that. Luz had to think about what had happened. She and Amity had been out walking, before the beast attack them. She had thought Amity died. She realized how thankful she was that the girl was sitting right in front of her and alive. She threw her arms around Amity, squeezing her tightly. “I thought you were dead!” Luz felt tears build up in her eyes again, but this time it was out of pure relief. They could still make it out alive. Both of them.

Amity’s arms hovered hesitantly to Luz side, before she wrapped them around her. “This is really not a hug moment…” Luz heard her mumble.

Luz didn’t care, as she squeezed her tighter. “I never want to feel like that again…” She had been completely convinced her friend died. “Te quiero…” She whispered to Amity, as her heart ached with the thought of ever losing her again.

Amity sensed that Luz had said something important. Luz knew that when Amity’s hug started feeling even more awkward. “What did you just say?”

The words slid of her tongue easier than they should have. “I love you.” It wasn’t completely a confession; it was more so a statement. She loved Amity. She wasn’t trying to get anything romantic out of it. “I never want to lose you ever again.” It was her heart that commanded her to speak. It helped ease the pain to get the words out.

Amity was quiet; she didn’t even breathe for a few seconds, before she shook her head. “You definitely didn’t confess inside a beast stomach… What does te quiero actually mean?” Amity’s pronunciation was impressively on point from hearing the word once.

Luz thought about it… “I’m not confessing.” Her thoughts hit the brakes. “Wait, hold on.” Luz had a realization hit her that exact moment, before she wiped her tears away. She did love Amity… She wanted to hold Amity’s hand… Sometimes she had wanted to give Amity a kiss, but quickly had shoved the thought away again. “I wasn’t trying to confess,” she corrected, realizing now what she meant and had felt for a long time.

Amity stared at her, mouth agape in disbelief. She closed her mouth, before opening it a couple seconds later to speak. “You seriously confessed to me inside the stomach of a beast…” Amity slammed her fist into the creature’s stomach wall. “Couldn’t you have waited until we were out of here?”

The lion grumbled at the hit; at most it was mildly annoyed.

Luz wasn’t really sure what to think of Amity’s reaction. “Do you not like me back? I’m sorry!” It would be super uncomfortable to be pressed up against someone you didn’t even like, after they confessed.

Amity stared at her, slowly blinking in confusion. “You think I don’t like you back?”They didn’t get any further with their discussion, as there was a noise from Amity’s scroll. Luz had forgotten Amity still had it out.

“Edric has contacted someone!”

After Amity had replied, the two argued back and forth on multiple things. Why Luz decided that that was the best moment to confess and why she hadn’t picked up on anything on Amity’s part.

They argued for the most part, but after a while they fell into a gentler discussion. It was still odd to talk in the lion’s stomach, but they didn’t have anything else to do to waste time.

Eventually they heard the lion roar in anger, and people yelling commands to each other.

Luz had been worried about them needing to cut the lion open, but Amity had told her they more than likely would have a vomit inducer. She didn’t want to be covered in blood; she couldn’t care less about what they did to the lion.

It didn’t long, before they felt the lion fall to the ground.

They heard the lion roar and growl in protest, before it began retching.

Luz had thought being swallowed by a lion was bad enough, but this was unarguably worse; the only thing that made it better was that this was a way out of the creature’s gut.

Luz and Amity were both puked up in a matter of seconds. Both got up to scramble away as quickly as possible.

They both got up on their feet, staring at the beast.

The people who had saved them, however, were fixated on Amity Blight. With emphasis on Blight. “You know we don’t do this job for free, right?”

They both snapped their heads towards the person speaking. Amity was quick to reply. “I don’t have any snails on me.”

Luz felt a bit defensive of Amity. “Yeah, and how many snails do you think she could keep in her pockets?” Luz gestured to Amity, “I’m pretty sure her dress doesn’t even have pockets!” She lowered her arms again, deciding to crack a joke. “And besides; what are you going to do if we don’t pay you? Shove us back in?”

Nobody laughed. “We just might, if you keep being a little brat!”

Luz raised her hands, and took a step back. “Hey! I just meant that Amity can’t pay right now!” She realized it sounded like she meant they were trying to sneak their way out of paying. She didn’t understand why they would have to be paid, but she wasn’t going to argue. “And I was making a joke…” She was disappointed that Amity hadn’t laughed.

The person glared at her. “Well, ha ha, very funny,” he said, giving them another judging glance. “But we fully expect to be paid handsomely for rescuing a child of the Blight family… And whoever you are supposed to be.”

Luz felt a bit uncomfortable, even as Amity took the word again. “If you want to get paid; you need to get my parents.” Amity shuffled nervously. “If we pay extra, can you help us get home?”

The people looked around at each other. “You’re sure your parents will pay that much for a brat like you and her friend? This isn’t going to be cheap, little Blight.”

Luz could tell that hit a weak point on Amity, but she quickly shook it off. “My parents will pay to have me back home.” Her voice was confident, but she clearly wasn’t. “And you’re not getting anything if we get lost out in the forest.”

“Alright, you win,” said the leader of the group, “come on, let’s help them get home.”

They stood outside the gate to the Blight manor. “You know, your house is really fancy.”

Amity didn’t take much notice of her remark, as she seemed lost in thought. She turned to the rescuers. “I’ll go get my parents, and then you’ll get your money.”

Luz didn’t want to be alone with the people. “Can I go with you?”

Amity flinched, before she spoke, “sure.”

They walked up to the door of the house together. Luz pulled her hoodie over her head. She didn’t think Amity’s parents would be particularly happy to see their daughter with a human.

Amity’s parents opened the door, before they even got up there. “Amity!” yelled her father. “What were you thinking?” But his voice calmed as he noticed Luz. “Who is your friend?”

Amity was quick to respond, “it’s just someone from school. She got eaten with me, because we had something that needed settling.” Luz didn’t like how quickly Amity came up with the lie. That wasn’t a good sign. “But I got to know her a little bit and she lives a long way away from here, so I was wondering if she could stay over? Or at least borrow the shower?”

Her mother gave her a skeptical look. “What were you two settling out in the forest?”

Amity barely hesitated, as she lied again. “She challenged me to a witches duel, and I had to show her who was the better witch.” Amity thought for a few seconds, probably trying to find holes in her story. “But she is actually really nice. Can you let her stay?”

Her father gave Luz a cold glare. “What’s your name?”

Luz looked over at Amity. She decided it was better to lie. “Light!” she replied a bit too loudly. “My name is Light.” Maybe using the translation of her name was a little boring and risky, but she was only pretending to be this Light for one night. They both eyed her suspiciously. “Sorry, it’s just… you’re a really important family, and I got into a fight with your daughter…” Luz laughed anxiously. “I’m really nervous.”

The two adults looked at each other. Her mother spoke up. “You can use the guest shower, while we figure something out.” He stopped, before turning to Amity. “You take a shower too.”

Amity stood still for a bit and so did Luz. “Actually… The people who saved us need to talk to you… They expect to be paid a lot for saving me.”

They nodded coldly, and eerily in sync. “You two get inside. When you’re done showering; throw the clothes out.”

Luz and Amity nodded and rushed inside.

She borrowed some of Amity’s clothes, before getting shown which bathroom to use.“You should take this too.” Amity handed her one of her school cowls. “Just say that you don’t like to show the back of your head. Say you got an extra eye you’re insecure about, if they ask.”

Luz was still confused at Amity having such an easy time lying. Nothing about Amity told her “liar”. If anything, it was the opposite. She was not at all prone to cheating. She tried to tell on her siblings, and she was a top student. So something had to be going on for her to be a good liar. “Thank you,” was all Luz said. Amity definitely wasn’t ready to talk about her past or parents with Luz.

She was pretty sure she had never felt better after a shower than she did at that moment. Clean and insanely soft clothes on her body felt great. The only downside was that she had to wear the cowl up. But it didn’t bother her much.

Amity’s parents called on her a few minutes after she had gotten done showering.

Luz waited for them to speak, having a feeling they wouldn’t take kindly to her taking the word.

Amity sat farther away from her, also waiting for her parents to speak.

Finally, they did. “How far away do you live?”

Luz looked away from them. “On the other side of town…”

“Then you can stay for the night,” replied Amity’s mother. She turned to Amity, with an unreadable expression. “We’re going to have a talk tomorrow.”

Amity nodded nervously, her eyes flicking between Luz and her mother. “Do I need to get the spare room ready?”

Her mother’s response was short and simple. “Of course.”

Amity quickly got everything set up, refusing Luz’s offer to help. It wasn’t proper manners to have a guest fix up their own room, according to her.

Initially that upset Luz, but after a while she could only focus on the fact that she would have an actual bed to sleep on. And on top of that; it looked to be very high quality everything. At least higher quality than her sleeping mat.

Amity stood and watched for a few seconds after getting everything done. “So… Why did you call yourself Light?”

Luz shrugged. “My name means light, not much other reason than that.” She sat down in the bed, watching Amity tiredly. “Can I just go to bed now?” She tried to suppress, but it easily escaped her.

Amity yawned too. “Yeah, it’s fine.” She turned around just before she left. “Goodnight, Luz.”

“Goodnight, Amity,” said Luz, before climbing into bed, and even if she had something to change into; she wouldn’t have bothered.

***

That’s the end! I got bored... Sorry. I mostly wrote this just to be angsty, but then it shifted a bit and I just wanted to finish it. Yes, Eda and King are worried out of their minds, but Luz will get home... Eventually.

Also could have been really angsty and wrote “Luz opened her eyes, realizing that everything had been too good to be true. She was still under the tree she where had fallen asleep, and she had to face Amity was gone.” But that’s not actual ending; what’s above the *** is the true ending. I just like edgy stuff, but not actual fatal.

Te quiero are the right words here btw.  Te amo is a lot more meaningful and Amity and Luz aren’t that close yet. It’s mostly for long established partners and sometimes nearest family members.

[tempesrature]

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”

Pairing: Ride or Die | Colt x Ellie Summary: A highlight reel of the most important moments of their life. A/N: Highly suggest reading this in order (all even numbers for Colt). @lovehugsandcandy @dancingboba @choicesarehard

#29 Tucking their hair behind their ear to help them get it out of their face.

“Woah, this is a rare and nostalgic sight.”

Colt’s ears perk up as he wheels himself out from under the orange Zenvo ST1 he’s working on and immediately searches for Ellie.

“El, what are you doing here?” He sits up, blindly looking for a rug to wipe off of his grease-stained hands. “I thought you had brunch with your co-workers.”

“Cancelled,” Ellie shrugs before she hops on the hood of the car next to him, careful not to let her dress snag on anything, before she looks down at him with a smile. “Don’t let me stop you, continue.”

Colt rolls his eyes at her before he lays back down, wheels himself back under the car and goes back to where he left of. “So you’re bored and you’re here to bother me now.”

“Correct,” Ellie confirms, pulling out her phone before she starts to absentmindedly scroll through her Pictagram account. “The shops quiet, where is everyone?”

“On a job,” Colt confirms, grunting a little when he pulls out some wires and throws it to the side.

Ellie looks up from her phone, eyeing his lower torso in disbelief. “What? They’re on a job and you’re here just…fixing up a car? Not pacing and being cranky in the office like usual?”

“I don’t pace and I’m not cranky,” Colt refutes with a small huff as he blindly reaches out for the wrench he left near his thigh. “And Sam’s got it handled, it’s fine.”

“Oooh I see what this is,” Ellie snickers as she nestles her phone between her thighs. “You’re trusting Sam on his first solo planned job and you’re too nervous and worried to pace and be cranky so you’re out here fixing a car instead to distract yourself.”

Colt rolls out from under the car with a small glare, pushing himself up and off of the floor before he stalks towards Ellie with a small smirk. When he reaches in front of her, he cages her in between his arms and leans in with a smile. “Again, I don’t pace,” He captures her lips, nipping the bottom of her lip before he moves down to the side of her neck and leaves purposeful nips and bites. “And I’m not cranky.”

Ellie laughs a little, delving her hands in his hair and smoothing back the strands sticking on his forehead. He continues to line her neck and collarbone with kisses and Ellie flutters her eyes close, feeling a little giddy at the prospect of making out in the shop like they used to do. But when she sees him lift his grease-stained hand in her peripheral view, clearly moving to grip her hips, the feeling immediately vanishes.

“Colt, if you get grease on my one of my very few dresses with pockets. I’ll kill you.”

Colt groans in annoyance and leans back as he throws his hand in the air with a playful smile. “Then I’m going back to work.”

Ellie hums in agreement as she picks up her phone between her thighs and resumes scrolling through her feed. A calming silence settles between them while Ellie continues to scroll through the pictures. Most of it is just her co-workers pictures on weekend trips, old classmates showing off new engagements or vacation trips and…Ellie stops at a picture, her eyes looking up at the name before going back to the picture. An old classmate of hers in high school, holding a baby in her arms as she lays on a hospital bed. Something inside Ellie’s heart squeezes at the sight in a way she’s never felt before. Her eyes latches on to the small pink cap on the baby’s head and the almost scrunched up look on her baby face and Ellie is suddenly aware that Colt and her never really talked about having kids.

Sure, marriage was always in their plans. In fact, a month after Colt proposed, he immediately whisked her off to Las Vegas to finally get married (grumbling that he’s waited enough years to marry her).

But kids? That never really came up.

Ellie tries to direct the question to herself, does she want to have kids? A big part of her says yes but another part of her is…scared, terrified. Other than her hazy memories of her mom and the finer points of her dad’s earlier days of parenting, she never really had a good parental role model she could follow. Heck, for all her brains and intelligence she doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby, let alone raising one.

What if they mess up? What if they fail?

And what about Colt? Does he want one?

Ellie frowns a little, her eyes moving to Colt’s lower torso. She can always ask him right? He’s right there after all and the shop’s empty.

“Hey Colt, I need you to answer a question for me,” Colt replies with a mumbled What? and Ellie tries to think of ways to approach this delicately but realizes that there really is no delicate way to bring it up other than just cannonballing it. “Do you want to have kids?”

A pause.

Colt wheels himself out from under the car and quickly sits up, his confused and worried eyes landing to her face before they flick down to her stomach. “Why? Are you pregnant?”

“No, I’m not pregnant,” Ellie chuckles a little when he sees the subtle relief on his face. “Answer the question, it’s important.”

“Well what do you want El?” Colt asks, standing up and abandoning his tools on the floor when he senses the conversation will need his full attention. “It’s your body, you should get to decide.”

“But you’re my husband,” Ellie refutes with a small pout, leaning back a little on the hood of the car to look at him before she shoves her phone into her dress pocket. “Just…don’t think about me for a sec. Tell me honestly, do you want them?”

Colt crosses his arms in front of him as he leans against the car he was just working on. His face is impassive, his eyes betraying no emotion to the thoughts in his head. But he already has his answer, an answer he’s been dwelling on for as long as he can remember. Perhaps even before he met and fell in love with Ellie Wheeler.

“Yeah, I want them.”

Ellie blinks, her eyes widening a little. “Wow…really?”

“Yeah,” Colt shrugs a little, trying to sound nonchalance. “I’ve always wanted kids and not because of this,” He waves his hand around the shop with a small scoff. “But I want someone to carry on my memory when I’m dead,” Ellie gazes at him warmly, a little sympathetically, knowing that in some ways he’s talking about his own father and his death.

Of the lonely and solitary death of Teppei Kaneko.

A death where Colt couldn’t even properly hold a funeral for his father. Where no one that knew Teppei can find a grave where they can pay their respects to.

His existence—forgotten, almost erased, and only continues to live on in the memories of his son and those who knew him.

Colt awkwardly shifts his weight on his other leg, his eyes flitting to somewhere else in the shop before he continues. “…My old man wasn’t perfect but he did what he could. But I feel like—no. I want to be a better father and if it’s with you El,” He looks at Ellie as his eyes gazes into hers, his voice resolute and honest. “I know that I can be better.”

A smile tugs on her lips, her eyes warm and soft as all the fears she had seemingly vanishes in an instant.

“Do you think we’ll be good parents though? We didn’t exactly grow up with the most stellar of examples.”

Colt scoffs, flicking his wrist dismissively at the thought. “With your brain and my expandable income, the kid’s going to grow up like royalty.”

Ellie stifles her laughter as she looks at him playfully. “You forgot your pleasing personality and endless modesty.”

“Oh yeah,” Colt snaps his fingers with a smirk. “That too.”

Ellie rolls her eyes and pushes herself off of the hood of the car to walk towards him. She easily fits her hands behind his neck, leaning forward, and Colt loosely and carefully wraps his arms around her waist to avoid getting grease stains on her dress.

“I’d like for them to have siblings,” Ellie says with a smile, playing with the ends of his hair behind his neck. 

“Sounds like hell,” Colt replies, trying to sound dismissive but fails when the affection and happiness coats his voice. “How many are you thinking then, two? Six?”

“Six?!” Ellie exclaims, leaning back to look at him in absolute horror. “Do I look like I’m making my own crew here?! You try pushing out a tiny human out of your hoo-haw and let’s see how you’ll feel about six babies!”

Colt throws his head back with a laugh, the sound bouncing off the walls of the shop before he tugs her closer to his chest and buries his face into the crook of her neck with a sigh of bliss. “God, you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Yeah, well you married me so deal with it,” Ellie huffs with a smile, burying her fingers into his hair before she kisses the top of his head. “It’s gonna be tough work Colt. You have to be with me through every step of the way, you can’t half-ass this.”

“I know El,” Colt replies sincerely, placing kiss on her pulse point. “I’m all in, baby. Whatever you need.”

“I’m gonna work you so hard,” Ellie teases with a small chuckle, pushing his hair back with her fingers as she starts to imagine what a little Colt and Ellie baby would look like and she’s surprised that the thought causes tears to prick her eyes. “You’re gonna regret ever asking me for a kid.”

Colt leans back to look at her, his brown eyes boring into hers. “I never regret anything with you Ellie. Not then, not now and not in the future.”

Ellie bites down on her bottom lip, trying not to let her quivering lip make its appearance as she fits her face to the crook of his neck. She tries to think of something sweet and loving to say back but she draws a blank, so she resorts to the one thing that she’s always had with him—loving, teasing, and heartfelt banter.

“You are a sap, Mr. Kaneko.”

Colt chuckles as he turns to place a kiss on her temple, his heart feeling light and free in her hands.

“Only for you, Mrs. Kaneko.”

[29-pieces]

Whumptober day 14 - The Musketeers

Day 14: Branding Fandom/setting: The Musketeers (BBC), alternate version of S2E10 Trial and Punishment note: in this version, BBC!Milady has the brand that book!Milady was punished with - in the book, that's what Athos discovered to convince him she really was a criminal.  Torture TW

Read on AO3 Read on FF.net

~*~

Aramis tensed as he heard the door creak open behind him. His hands clenched into fists, subtly straining at the long chains securing his wrists to the wall��as though maybe this time they would give out.

They didn't.

"So," Rochefort's sickly smooth voice spoke up from the doorway, followed by multiple pairs of footsteps. "You have been convicted of high treason. You are a traitor, Aramis. And eventually, you will die like one."

"Eventually?" he couldn't help but ask through gritted teeth. Aramis had expected this. Why kill him quickly when Rochefort held all the cards? Aramis had dared to touch, to love, the object of Rochefort's obsession. A swift, merciful death had never been on the table. Slowly, Aramis turned on the spot with his chin raised high.

Rochefort was smiling, watching Aramis with that intense, chilling stare. It unnerved the musketeer, though not as much as the long metal rod in his hands, topped with a broad, flat symbol that glowed fire-white.

Aramis felt his eyes widen despite his intention to not react to whatever tortures were in store for him, and he took an involuntary step back. This seemed to be the cue the other soldiers had been waiting for, the four that had accompanied Rochefort in. They surged in towards him. Fighting back was an instinct driven in too fully for Aramis to resist, throwing a rattling punch to one and a kick to another. Without weapons, chained in place, and outnumbered, Aramis could do no more as they flung him against the wall then dragged him to the ground.

"Hold him there," Rochefort said, calm and content, slowly stepping closer.

"You're nothing but a snake, Rochefort," Aramis snapped, twisting against the hands that held him. The chains at his wrists weren't quite long enough to reach the floor, leaving them crossed over his head when they kicked him flat onto his back. Again, Aramis tried to kick his way back up, but with four guards, it was easy for them to hold him down, one on each limb. One of the soldiers jerked his doublet open, ripping it and Aramis's shirt down off of his shoulder.

"The king will see it in the end!" Aramis bit out, desperately trying to break their hold on him to no avail. His breaths came in fast, panicked gasps as he watched the brand coming closer and closer to his skin. "And the queen?" He laughed harshly, knowing what would hurt his captor the most. "She'll never love you."

Rochefort smiled down at him but there was rage and insanity in his gaze. "Hold him down," he instructed the guards again.

Aramis struggled as the grips on his arms and legs tightened, until he saw Rochefort's smile widen. He was enjoying this, smug bastard, he wanted the show, the helplessness, the useless struggle. Aramis would not give him that. He fell still against the freezing stone floor, looking up at the brand that would mark him a criminal. The musketeer swallowed back defeat. It wouldn't matter... he wouldn't live long enough for anyone else to see it. As well as he was able, Aramis lifted his chin again, meeting Rochefort's amused eyes.

The Comte's smile slid somewhat at the show of defiance. Without a word, he thrust the brand down into the musketeer's skin, searing the mark into Aramis's chest below his collarbone.

Aramis had wanted to remain stoically silent but the scream was ripped from his throat regardless. He thrashed and bucked against his captors, seeing and feeling and smelling the flesh blister and burn. His stomach turned and he thought he would pass out from the pain of it and oh god surely it had to stop soon, but Rochefort didn't remove the brand. He only pushed it more fiercely down, leaning his weight into it until Aramis was blinded by tears and agony and his whole body felt like it was on fire.

After an eternity, the pressure was removed, but the heat remained. Aramis choked on more frantic breaths, looking down at his chest to be met with the sight of the mangled, blistered form of the fleur-de-lis. Not as the proud mark of a musketeer, but as the shameful brand of a traitor.

"Hmm," Rochefort murmured from somewhere above him, and Aramis knew he was being shrewdly studied. "You know... I don't believe the Queen will think much of this look on you."

The men holding him down released his arms and legs but Aramis didn't try to move other than to curl in himself. Even that didn't work, the chains at his hands too short to give him enough leeway. The stench of burned skin filled his nostrils, choking the musketeer until he released a strangled sob. It echoed along with the slamming of the door and the cold promise that Rochefort would be back before too long. Aramis closed his eyes, praying only to be released—one way or another.

.o.O.o.

As it turned out, the way he was released was not by death, but by Milady. Aramis remembered little of the actual escape, beyond his terror at hearing the door open again, the shock at seeing her there instead of Rochefort come to torture him some more. Milady had paused for a moment, eyebrow arching gracefully up at the sight of his burn.

"It seems we're a matched set, then," she said with only the smallest of sneers, no true vitriol in her voice but also no pity.

Aramis only glowered at her, not bothering to protest that they were nothing alike, that unlike him, her crimes had been real. But he said nothing, because was it even true? He had endangered the queen, his brothers, Constance, so much blood on his hands because he had loved a woman he was not permitted to love. Despite how fiercely the fabric of his shirt hurt the fresh burn, he fastened his doublet tightly to hide the mark.

They didn't speak again after that, and Aramis was relieved to finally find himself back among his brothers. Even the normally stoic Athos immediately pulled him closer, a relieved kiss on his cheek speaking to just how close they had all come to losing everything, and still could.

"Come here," Porthos beamed, his own face an open book of delight compared to Athos's measured solemnity.

Aramis smiled wanly and leaned in to his friend but immediately gasped when the hug was too enthusiastic for his abused chest to handle. Porthos froze, then carefully backed up a bit, though he didn't let go of Aramis.

"You're hurt," he seethed. "Aramis? What did he do? What is it?"

"I wouldn't show them, if I were you," Milady spoke up, perching herself smugly on a nearby chair. "Athos might take it into his mind to have you hanged."

Aramis shot a glare in her direction, as did Porthos and d'Artagnan, but Athos turned pale and was immediately at Aramis's side—of course he would now know exactly what had happened.

"Let me see it," he murmured, voice both tremulous and gentle, as he gingerly peeled Aramis's shirt away to reveal the ugly burn. The room fell silent.

Aramis swallowed and looked away. "He..." Trailing off helplessly, Aramis shook his head. What words could be spoken to describe his horror, his shame? "If we make it out of this, don't tell An- the Queen," he whispered. "She would..."

"She would know how brave you are," Constance spoke up, guiding Athos aside so she could stand in front of Aramis instead, looking up at him in that earnest way of hers. "She would be outraged at what was done to you, yes, but she would never see you differently for it, Aramis. None of us could."

"Constance is right," Treville said from his position by the door. Only the slightest tightening of his jaw revealed his own fury. "Rochefort is the traitor, not you, and we'll see to it that everyone knows that."

Aramis closed his eyes, grateful for their support, but painfully cognizant that their opinions of him might not be the ones that determined his fate. "It's a brand," he said hollowly. "This won't- I can't wash it off, I can't- I'll carry it forever. Even if the King were to grant a pardon, the mark will still be there. How can I be a musketeer if-"

"Aramis," Treville cut him off. "As long as I am your captain, you have a place in our regiment. You know that. And anyone who takes my place one day will know the same." His eyes flicked to Athos, who nodded solemnly.

"You will get that pardon," the swordsman intoned. "And your friends will stand by you. You have our word."

"And I'll see Rochefort dead," Porthos spat out, clenching his fist.

"And I'll get your med kit," d'Artagnan offered as he eyed the burned skin. "You'll need to treat that. Wait here, I know where it is."

Aramis swallowed against the lump in his throat as his friends rallied around him. They would be lucky indeed to survive this intact, but he would be luckier still to count these men (and Constance) as his family.

As long as he had that, well... the rest would fall into place.

[darnloveablecharacters]

Prove Me Wrong, Part Twenty-Three: Treachery and Truth

Series Summary:  Caithwistë, born from the only known pairing of an elf and a dwarf has spent most of her life in hiding. When an old friend, (or a certain meddling wizard) finds her in the woods, everything changes. Now, she will have the chance to prove the world wrong about her value. A ‘The Hobbit’ fanfiction based off of the following imagines from @imaginexhobbit: This One is the basis of the story, and This One and This One will be added in later. If you recognize it, it belongs to Professor Tolkien or Peter Jackson. But, as usual, the story and all of the mistakes are my own!

Prove Me Wrong - Masterlist

Chapter Notes: Whew, finally got this one up! Took me a bit to work out, you’ll see why :P Italics are Sindarin.

Warnings for this chapter: violence, angst and mention of rape

Tagged: @imaginesreblogged @chevycastiel1967 @rices4me93​ If you want to be added just let me know!

The forest was even darker than Caithwistë had remembered. The Shadow from the South had grown even stronger and it was all she could do to keep her own mind sharp, let alone keep the Company on the path.

They were already slipping into the fog of illusion by the time they stopped. Shaking her head, Caithwistë stepped forward as Thorin questioned Nori who was leading them.

“The path… it’s disappeared!” Nori complained as she reached them. They stood in front of a steep cliff, with no sign of the path ahead.

“What’s going on?” Dwalin growled.

“We’ve lost the path!” Oín repeated in a daze.

“Find it. All of you look. Look for the path!” Thorin commanded.

“No, Thorin wait!” Caithwistë called to him. He didn’t seem to hear her, so she grabbed his arm and pulled him to face her. Thorin blinked a few times as if he was just recognizing her and she sighed. “Thorin, I do not think it’s wise to spread out right now. Take the time to rest and let me find the path. I am not as affected by this place.” She reasoned with him.

Thorin blinked again, clearly fighting the illusions and simply nodded. “Be quick then.” He said softly, squeezing her arm.

Caithwistë smiled and added. “Wait here for me, I will find it.” She promised.

“Very well. Everyone, we will rest here for now until Caithwistë finds the path!” Thorin commanded, resulting in a collective sigh of relief.

Caithwistë chuckled as she walked away, hoping that they would stay safely there until she returned.

It took her longer to find the path than she had hoped it would. She had been out of the sight of the Company for far too long and had nearly turned back to join them when she finally found it. She couldn’t help her exclamation of joy when she stumbled upon it, but her joy was quickly replaced with dread when a disturbing sound reached her ears.

She drew Emel-o Orcrist as a deep thrumming echoed through the forest. It was as if a tight string had been plucked, and the vibrations rang out through the trees. As quickly as it happened, another ring of vibrations called out and she looked up in horror.

Spider webs that were thickly woven through the branches were moving. Caithwistë winced, it would not be long until their makers moved toward the cause of the disturbance. “So, you have made it to the new path.” She muttered angrily, tightening her grip on the sword. Her mother had told her about the giant spiders but had assured her they remained near the Old Forest Road. They were one of the many dark creatures that had driven the Elves north and forced the creation of the new path.

Caithwistë turned on her heel and began to run toward where the Company had been but stopped in her tracks when she heard them. The scuttling of clawed feet, the clicking of pincer-like fangs. She was too late. She looked up just in time to see the first one drop toward her. She instinctively drove her sword up, effectively impaling the spider in the descent and it collapsed on top of her, dead.

Caithwistë was breathless underneath it and she let out a groan. She may have dispatched the one spider, but she knew that more would come, and she was trapped. She tried to push herself out from under the dead one, but it was too heavy. “This is not how I die.” She growled as another two spiders approached her, clicking menacingly. She pushed against the corpse again and managed to push herself halfway out before the closest spider dropped, an arrow protruding out of one of its eyes. She watched in shock as another arrow immediately pierced the second and it fell as well.

Caithwistë let out a breath of relief and gave one final push to free herself. She scrambled to her feet and drew her bow as her auburn haired savior stepped lightly toward her. “That was close.” The Elf said cheerfully, disregarding Caithwistë’s tension.

Caithwistë was suddenly distracted by movement and she released her arrow. The Elf maiden stilled as the arrow flew passed her, narrowly missing her, and into the spider that was sneaking up from behind. The arrow imbedded in its head and the Elf turned, watching the spider drop in surprise. “Too close.” Caithwistë agreed, nocking another arrow. She didn’t aim it though, suddenly uncertain of the Woodland Elf.

The Elf regarded her again, green eyes wide with curiosity. “Thank you.” She said, taking a step toward the first spider that Caithwistë had killed.

“You saved me first, it was the least I could do.” Caithwistë said warily, watching as the Elf pulled Emel-o Orcrist out with a sickening squelch.

“I’m Tauriel.” The Elf said with a nod. She raised her eyebrows as she studied the blade. “You must be Caithwistë.” She said, glancing back up to meet Caithwistë’s eyes.

Caithwistë gripped her bow tighter but still made no move to aim. Tauriel seemed more curious than anything and she simply hoped that she would be allowed to leave in peace. For now, she would play along. She nodded and Tauriel smiled.

Tauriel held the blade toward Caithwistë but frowned. Caithwistë had heard it too, another rustling in the trees. Something else was coming.

Caithwistë aimed in the direction of the sound, but Tauriel hadn’t moved. She simply huffed as they were suddenly surrounded by a group of Elves, all with arrows pointed directly at Caithwistë. Their blonde leader landed agilely in front of her with an arrow pointed directly at her eye.

“Legolas.” She growled, tightening her hold on her own nocked arrow.

He had been there the day they were cast out, watching coldly at his father’s side as the sentence of Exile was passed. She couldn’t help but feel the old bitterness creep up in her, and she found herself wondering if she could make the kill.

The Elven prince narrowed his eyes at her as if he knew what she was thinking. “Kill me if you can half-breed, but you will fall as soon as your arrow is released.”

Caithwistë glanced at the other arrows that were pointed at her and grimaced, releasing the tension of her bow in defeat. She simply glared back at him as he gave the command for her to be disarmed.

“Is this necessary?” Tauriel asked Legolas in frustration.

“She was exiled, it is our duty to uphold my Father’s laws.” He stated simply.

Tauriel rolled her eyes at that and gave Caithwistë a sympathetic glance before leaving the group. Caithwistë watched her leave sullenly, she was still carrying Emel-o Orcrist.

Legolas wrinkled his nose. “You reek of dwarf.” He said with disgust, drawing her attention back to him.

“You may recall, I am half dwarf.” Caithwistë retorted with a smirk, rolling her eyes. She hoped it would be enough to distract him, not wanting to let the Company fall under the control of these Elves.

She was wrong.

“I don’t think that’s it.” He said watching as her smile fell. “Take her to my Father.” He commanded the two elves that now flanked her. “He will decide what is to be done with her. We will search for the others, do not be afraid to kill them if they present a danger to any of us.” He commanded the group.

Caithwistë blanched. She knew that if they felt a threat then the Company would attack, and the Woodland Elves would not hesitate to kill them. “No, Legolas please! Please do not hurt them, they mean you no harm!” She pleaded as she fought against the ones who restrained her.

She noticed his eyes flick to where Tauriel had disappeared before he focused on her again. “Take her away.” He said with finality.

“No!” She cried as she was forcefully pulled away.

~

Caithwistë stood, devoid of all emotion in front of Thranduil. She had been forced into a cell when they arrived, left alone and starved for weeks. She had heard no word of the Company, and she feared the worst. Had they lived, she felt that she would have either heard the call to battle or at the very least, would have been joined in the cells by the survivors. She had cried at first when that reality had dawned on her, but now she felt as if she had nothing left.

Thranduil was pacing in front of her, shaking his head. “Your wretched family was warned, never to return to this place.”

Caithwistë crossed her arms and sighed. “Believe me, I have no wish to be here.”

Thranduil cocked his head to the side, watching her with distrust. “Oh? Then why are you here?”

“I…” She stopped as an unexpected wave of hope flowed through her. She still wasn’t certain that the Company was gone and until she knew for sure, she would not willingly give them away. “I got lost.”

“Do not lie to me.” Thranduil snarled. He backhanded her, hard, forcing her to the ground.

“You will not touch her!” Thorin’s voice boomed from behind her.

Caithwistë let out a breath as she rolled to her knees, glancing toward the stairs in disbelief. “Thorin? You’re alive!” She cried, scrambling to her feet and jumping into his arms as he approached.

Thorin hugged her tightly, letting out his own sigh of relief. “I thought I had lost you Amrâlimê.” He murmured.

“Love, is it?” Thranduil’s sneering voice called out from behind her, forcing them out of their reunion too soon. Thorin let her go then, glaring up at him. He stepped in front, gently pushing Caithwistë behind him and Thranduil’s menacing grin widened. “Oh, this is simply wonderful. Could this mean that you have both found your One, as the dwarves call it? I never expected Thorin, Son of Thrain to fall in love with a half-breed.”

Caithwistë sucked in a sharp breath, feeling sick and Thorin narrowed his eyes. “You know not what you speak of.” He said with a growl.

Thranduil glanced between the two of them. Thorin, who was standing in front of her glaring and Caithwistë who was watching the interaction with trepidation. He smirked and addressed Thorin. “You don’t know what she is, do you?” Thorin’s glare deepened and Thranduil nodded, expression shifting into a mask of understanding. “Then I feel I am honor bound to inform you.” He said with a mock bow to Thorin.

“Thranduil, please don’t.” Caithwistë whimpered.

Thorin still stood in front of her defensively and it felt as if her heart shattered at Thranduil’s triumphant smile. “She is the spawn of the unholy union with a dwarf, and an elf.” He began. Thorin watched him with an unbridled loathing as he continued. “Her father, Rofur, son of Lofur abducted one of our own. Calyniel Aranel was her name, she was beloved by all, but he poisoned her mind against us. He raped her and thus created a child. That child stands before you now. A disgusting representation of all that is evil within this world.” He finished, gesturing distastefully toward Caithwistë.

“Enough! That is a lie!” Thorin yelled. “Caithwistë, tell him.” He pleaded, turning to her. “Caithwistë?” He repeated, voice cracking when she couldn’t meet his eyes.

Caithwistë glared at the smug Thranduil before turning to Thorin sadly. He was watching her with tears glistening in his eyes. “I wanted to tell you.” She began softly, reaching out to him but he took a step away from her. Her own pain was reflected in his eyes and she bowed her head in shame. “He speaks the truth, but only partially.” She admitted before turning in anger to Thranduil. “My Dâd loved my Naneth. He would never have taken her against her will.”

Thranduil didn’t respond, only watched with amusement as the admission sunk in. “No, this cannot be.” Thorin said shakily, taking another step back.

Thranduil scoffed. “Oh, come now, Thorin. Even dwarves cannot be so blind to not see her for what she is. A filthy half-breed, an abomination within this world.”

“Thorin?” Caithwistë asked the motionless Dwarf King. He was now regarding her with disgust, and she felt as if she were being torn to pieces from the inside.

“Take her away.” Thranduil commanded. “There is much for me to discuss with the King Under the Mountain, this filth is not worthy of the knowledge.”

Caithwistë fought the grip of the guards as they pulled her toward the dungeons. What haunted her the most was the sight of a carefully expressionless Thorin turning his back to her as she was dragged away, begging for his forgiveness.

Authors Notes: Thranduil is a douche, I will hear no arguments. (Actually his story is super sad and I get it but… NO EXCUSES) Also, I am SO happy to have the reveal finally. *phew* Good show to those of you that called it 😊 I hope that doesn’t mean the story is overly predictable and not enjoyable 😐 Thank you all for following so far!!!