#the acheron cottage

[ardensregias]

HIII! Have you pulled for any Penacony characters or are you just waiting for aventurine?

hii :3 i tried pulling for sparkle and lost the 50/50 sigh... so now i'm just waiting for him

[queersrus]

request for cottagecore + sad-ish? id pack? please + thanks!

here's my attempt!

assuming id pack includes more than just the usual npts i'll throw in a few cottagecore and sad related labels i found

(nick)names:

ambrose, amos, ansel, acacia, ada, adelaide, arwin/arwen, ava, avery/averie, aviva, amaranth, able, arbor, art, arty/artie, asher, ainsley, acheron, adalia brandy/brandi, branwen, billie/billy, bryony, bill, banner, booker, bram

barley, brion, brian, bryce chloris, chandra, cyrene, cayenne, cade, clyde, chester, cliff denna, diana/dianna, diona, donna/dona, derby, dallas, danica, daphne, dixie, dawn, dylan

edmund, elenore, elodie, eudora, elenore/eleanor, ebony, erica, eila, eira, eve, eithne, everlee, elize, eliza, elizabeth, everlyn, elwood, emerson, elowen finnegan, freddy/freddie, frederick, fallin/fallon, florance/florence

fable, frank, frankie/franky, franklin/franklyn, faine, filbert, finneas ginny/ginnie, gale, georgia, george, georgina, granger halcyone, hana/hanna/hannah, harriet, harry, hayley/hailie/hailey, halie/hallie, heather, harlowe/harlow, harrow, hadar, hawl, hayes,

huck, holden, huso ilana, illiana/iliana, ingrid, ivory jane, janet/janette, jesse/jessie, josie, jose, jack, jackie, jackson kingston, kodi/kodie, kodiak, kylan

lupin, lian, liana/lianna, liane/lianne, linc, linden, lyle, lucius maisie, matilda, maude, mabel, merle, marin, mica/mika, mason/macon, martin, miller, miles nellie, nyssa, ned, nick, ness

opholia, oliver, olive, olivia, oleander, odell, oriel, oscar paisley, poppy, posie, phineas, parker rose, rosemary/rosemarie, rosy/rosie, rory, rosette, rosetta, rue, rosabel/rosabell/rosabelle, rosa, rosabela/rosabella, rosella, rosaria,

rosario, rob, robert, ray, reed, ridge, ryland, rowan, roan shiloh, sharon, scarlet/scarlett/skarlett, sam, samantha, samuel, sunny/sunnie, sawyer, shaw, shay, steve, stevie, stevia, sorell/sorrell, seb, sebby/sebbie, sebastian, saddie/sadie, sade

theodore, theo, tori, toria, tamie/tammie, tawny, terra, timber, tim, timothy, tanner, teddy/teddie, trevis/travis, trevor, tyler, tristan/tristin, tristah/trista, trystia verginia, vicky/vickie, victor, victoria, viola, violet/violette,

violeta/violetta, valerian, vernon winnie, willa, winston, winifred, winslow, will, william, willow, wade, wagner, warren, watts, watson, wilhelmina yvonne, yves zephyr/zephyre, zara, zinnia, zion

surnames:

appleyard, ashton, ashwood baker, brookstone, butterfield catkin, cobbler, cooper, copper, copperwood, copperfield, crestfallen dogwood, direwood, direbrook, direfield, desperfield, downyard

doleman fenlon, falkner, forlorn greenwood, greenfield, golding, goldwood, goldfield, griefman, griefwood, gardner

hilbrook, holbrook, heath, horsewood, horsefield, hawksley, harrowing, hawkswood, hawthorne, hawkner, hawkfield, holloway, hallowood

larken, limewood, lockhart, lovejoy mourner, mournwright, mournman nettleship

plowman, penrose, penwright redbrook, rosedale, redwood, rosewood, redfield summerfield, sweetnam, seawright, sorrowfield, sorrowbrook, shamewood, shamewright

thacker, thatcher westfield, wainwright, write/wright, wagonwright, woodsman, wyrmwood/wormwood, winterwood, winterrose, wretchwood, wretchman

system names:

the cottagecore *system, the sorrowful system, the melancholic cottage system, the mourning flowerbed system, the gloomy garden system, the tearful system, the harvest system

1st p prns: i/me/my/mine/myself

ci/cotte/cottagy/cottagine/cottageself hi/he/hy/harvestine/harvestself gi/garde/gardy/gardine/gardenself si/sade/sady/sadine/sadself si/sorre/sorry/sorrowine/sorrowself mi/me/mely/melancholine/melancholyself

2nd p prns: you/your/yours/yourself

co/cottager/cottagers/cottagerself ho/harvester/harvesters/harvesterself go/gardener/gardeners/gardenerself so/sader/sadders/sadderself so/sorrower/sorrowers/sorrowerself mo/melancholer/melancholers/melancholerself

3rd p prns: they/them/theirs/themself

co/cottage, cott/age, cot/cottage, cot/tage, cottage/cottages, cottage/core har/vest, ha/harvest, harv/est, harvest/harvests gar/den, gar/garden, garden/gardens, garden/core farm/core sa/sad, sad/sads, sa/ad, sad/sadden, so/sorrow, sor/row, sorr/ow, sorrow/sorrows, sorrow/sorrowful mel/melancholy, mel/ancholy, melan/choly, melancholy/melancholies, melancholy/melchancholic

titles:

the weeping gardener, the mourning farmer, the sad cottage dweller, the melancholic planter, the sorrowful woodsman

**one who lives a sad cottage life, one who mourns within ones cottage, one who weeps amongst ones gardens, one who copes with sadness through cottage life

book titles:

the sad little cottage, a melancholic villager, the weeping willows, the mourning garden, the sorrows of an old cottage, a pitiful harvest

genders:

buncottagecoric(link),

cottagegoric(link), cafdreamian(link), cottagecrittean(link), cottagecoric(link), Cálidatierramielgender(link)

epuisetristic(link)

gendersob(link)

Sadnostacatgender(link)

orientations: (n/a)

other:

cottagecore bpd(link)

many can be found by searching cottagecore genders/mogai/liom as well, there are many versions of cottagecore flags especially for lgbt related labels so they should not be hard to find if you feel like looking!

*system can be replaced with any alternative (ex. cluster, collective, hoard/horde, etc)

**one can be replaced with any prn

[rainbowstargazerlilies]

Mechs Ships Tournament: Shipping Round 2 Poll 8

Propaganda:

Prison Mechs And Lyf:

One, LOOK AT THEM!!! THEY FIT TOGETHER SO WELL AND GIRBIFJRJE AHHHHHH. Like, prison mechs is good, wonderful we love it, Violinspector is wonderful, idiots in love. Put the two TOGETEHR!! perfect ship, 20/10 it's canon to me. They love Lyf so much and Lyf loves them too but they are so annoyed at them all the time in that "gods damnit. I love you three but please for the love of the gods stop." Also the idea of Marius, Raph, n Ivy trying to woo Lyf while they are still an Inspector is so silly cause I can see it working everytime but they CANT DO SHIT ABOUT IT and girbgijrjr. And if you give me a moment to indulge in my own brand of insanity that is creature mechs, them calling Lyf "pretty bird" cause it flutters them every time. It used to work on Raph but doesn't anymore cause she's used to it and tiehfjrhjfjrj. I'm not normal about them lol

violinspecter: the stars claim them fanfictoon. more people added for more cool relationships and stuff, also i love the prison mechs

if you don’t ship it have you even listened to expert testimony????

Think about them. Just think about them. Words are not wording but oh my god think about them. You want fic recs? I can give you fic recs. Please they are so special to me.

prison mechs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! lyf!!!!!! what more is there to say

#AHHHHHH GC I C B DGHTHH#THEM THEM THEM THEM THEM-#SAVE ME PRISON MECHS AND LYF#PRISON MECHS AND LYF#PRISON MECHS AND LYF SAVE ME (tags via @analog-cottage-gore)

Ashes/Tim:

that fanart wirh tim in the red dress tis one: https://www.tumblr.com/reegis/728023603994574848/have-you-considered-volunteering-for-acheron?source=share

Just. Ackhfjsgdjs. Pretty people <33333333

they played canon relationships (loki/Sigyn, Osiris/Isis) and fanon (Persephone/Hades) for me not to ship them outright

Round-up for the round here

[crguang]

I'm actually into architecture and interior design. I was wondering what kind of house we would have with HSR women? Kafka is brutalism! 100%!!! The layout is bold and the material is raw. If you remember that one story quest where Kafka can sense whether we lie or not, I believe trust and honesty is number 1 in Kafka's relationship. So I think brutalism suits her really well. But the interior design screams victorian. Uh sorry, my mind is working a lot rn, I just came back from a concert (more like music installation) that combines music & architecture. Thanks to my lecturer who always drags me to extraordinary events. At least I have a lot of interesting ideas to share with you. Ehe.

As for Yukong, it's more like a Japanese house but in Chinese style. You can feel the "zen" in that house cuz she is searching for solitude. Poor thing, she always has anxiety after that war incident. I believe her house strictly follows feng shui for good luck

Contemporary is suitable for Black Swan. In my mind, I always think BS never lets you have privacy due to her nature as memokeeper. Remember that one time she talked with March 7th? LOL. Glass material is often used in contemporary design, so it feels like the outdoors and inside is connected. Once again, lack of privacy. Like an aquarium LOL

As for Himeko, maybe Cottage. Usually this type of house can be spotted in the countryside. It's simple, small, and warm. I believe she wants to plant some coffee, harvest them, and grind them all by herself. She will even keep a Luwak outside her house ☠️

As for Nat, I think similar to Himeko, mediteranian also suits her really well. Considering she always lives in the underground, I THINK THE BEST HOUSE FOR HER IS MEDITERANIAN. LOTS OF LIGHT!

Acheron... Probably a traditional Japanese house. But I feel like she can even live under the bridge. LOL

Anyway, thank you for not being mad at me.... ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠•̥⁠`⁠ʔ

-🎹

this is so insanely accurate i have no idea what some of these words mean but the black swan one is insane. like actually crazy i can see it so clearly in my mind her house would totally be designed with lots of glass like that blew my mind… nat finally getting some sunlight after years underground oh my heart. i went to look up brutalist architecture and i see it omfggggg wow its really eccentric and that fits kafka so well. your brain is kinda insane this is such a cool thing to be into

[libidomechanica]

I rose, he stood the blame on me this, is conceive

Among his outward life which look     at the mildest though those queers, funny feel safe then—i never     not be her face, thoughts: bryers place. The moon, wandering glass     like a long habits, and to me.—Kept from th’enameless     graver the dark as night

of hym shul have been in his free,     and a pond thy own voicelessness who’s his. Too true temper:     day be said, Tis now aboute to his hond that day of     goodness, and saw his wisdom turn him here on the cloud … it     must paused to a fireball

then idly sound alluring her,     it was servent love was nibbled round. From the Shepherdesse,     some little careless fates, than oure shal do me good society,     this myghte then, in beauty still many more stealth from     my Muse the hours each fields

were missed her; and where happy,—happy     me! A stocking, for half in al myn herte grey lineament     in her in her hand up a pillar in this joly     clerkes han write a chanson; in nameless golden Morpheus     quit, by God and hands, love,

to the show’st thy love must paused her     three parts run off with a voice was eating lover brother-     angels at these are but my book there as peas, and riches,—     and I am chang’d: the Doric music we knoweth what     says De Stael; in Italy,

that water, hand fruit of his     breast, she paced and come and the women use but for he square     of mild silver’d o’er with a kind of five years his hous! And     widow and once I have allures an emerald aigrette     with viands and birth, that,

by God! And a solemn for the     elms, a thrust ahead of purėd whetė seed, and yet no less     of Pope and in some paths of bitter to me it singing     still she was preventeen skiing these, whil that closed welcomnesse.     That she sholde wedde me.

Now how fashions for thee now is     thy flowing Herbe and hours drawn, you tried the wo that day of     going to read on a midnight of their husband’s shape, the     year to human swain. Thou hast thou in compared to the cloud     as thoughts of the bridge. The

liberty destroy’d, something to     the fool believe me, and wild Princessant. I rose, he stood     the blame on me this, is conceive. Lovėd me she nurst; as beauty     must be, but had at the color disappeared each other     knew. You have it. And,

beat from Arabia pure, sovereign     misty Acheron, he koude I mette of her and to     my love’s arrogance, if I telle tale is not ashamed     of a stream. Swifter the reins, spits forth youre praktike. They had     hem split his vocal cords

with idle length of weeds. Figured     like a makeless now— and Mocha’s berry, from a belt     of father vouch for none; for I knew myn housbonde is fro     the stripped, for that these, which her genius,—when a moment’s brooding     with gages from heaven

and some kindness, and foremost     in bacon had been the more than tears: all our Titles shuffled     still that winter green- sward now has been a Briton’s, who     always cut him from love, and that I shal yow telleth in     the chased away from Káf

to Káf, down in his stormy bed     was, and of the sun that with the been and with a boy he’s     given her privetee, before now enjoyed and now some west,     and goost to burye hym how the color disappear, a dwarfs     and some friendship’s holy

filling lifted in the cruisers     keep how my spirit of hymn like a planet floats thou bring.     I travelling sheen of arms he led, or skin, or breast. At the     globe may thy languish was his dore I listening these arms could     say, in England a poet,

a sad trimm’d with a human     command his cottage till from his tomb: perhaps of the whale     world upon my face of gold where pomp and both he, so have     sung in May. Laden hook, the kind! I hae a penny to     surprize it, complained there

these are fix’d in happy crowd were     tapestry, no harbor. What gentil the mo. Of two gold     comes, adoring crescent, with they seeing his looks into     this, that, may forget and them into ten black. My loue to     be seye of legges and

no Wheat, am I. But yet I     hadde left little billow, it eats and ful of salwes, and     that nothing leaves borne away th’ offence. An iron-     pointed ere, looking into the petty done, now a nymph     replied: Pluck thee biseke!

[lou-bonfightme]

A Family of Ghosts || [Self para]

In which Toulouse, Belle, and the children struggle to pick up the pieces after Hades descends into the Underworld…[takes place: January 2026 through May 2032]

@labellerose-acheron, @trip-downtheriverstyx

companion to: Til Death Do Us Part

[tw – the end of this (starting at MAY 2032), deals with death and suicide (no description, mentioned only), please be careful and if you want a summary, feel free to ask. the rest is safe to read!]

|| || || || || || || || ||

Toulouse let himself into the still Acheron cottage.

“Belle?” he murmured quietly into the darkness, reaching down to pat at Shuck’s shoulder as the dog sniffed his shoes. For a moment, he stood and listened, heart beating frantically in his own chest. He had only received a simple text: I need you.

So, here he was. With no context. No hesitation.

First, he heard the ticking of the clocks in the living room, their cacophony almost drowning out everything else, until he took a breath and listened. There was a creak of floorboards upstairs.

Then, crying.

He took the stairs two at a time.

“Belle?” he called, a little louder, a little more frantic.

|| || || || || || || || ||

[link here]

[probablyfunrpgideas]

Quest Idea: despite the best of intentions, the party dropped their borrowed Talisman of Ultimate Evil down seven hundred flights of the Infinite Staircase. Withered by ricocheting curse effects, they must traverse the planes and portals of the Staircase, following the trail of destruction to collect and retrieve the item before they die of said curse.

The Infinite Staircase opens into places of creative energy, from an Acheron weapons factory to a woodcarver’s cottage. Perhaps as the Talisman falls, it has its own creative destination in mind…

Let’s imagine you want to let your players try out a really powerful magic item, or one that doesn’t fit into the campaign somehow. Like a Cloak of Invisibility, or an Apparatus of Kwalish!

They know that the item will help them achieve their current goal, so they need it now. But you don’t want them to always have permanent invisibility or a Crab Mecha.

Enter the Fantasy Rental Agency! Whether the owner is charging a fee or simply helping the PCs because they share a goal, this being can lend them whatever awesome magic items you want! Initially, I imagined the Proprietor as a cool Fey of some kind, but depending on the party it could be a Fiend who wants them indebted to the lower planes.

The Proprietor makes it clear that the rental is only good for a limited amount of time. If the players don’t return it by the next midnight, they will regret it.

If (when?) they decide to break the deal, they seem to get away with it. No pixie enforcers come after them. But the items become cursed. The cloak of invisibility might take its wearer to the Astral or Ethereal Plane. The Apparatus transforms into a pumpkin, with the driver trapped inside. Get creative, and have fun designing curses!

However, if you don’t care so much about the balance of power, you can leave a loophole in the bargain. The Proprietor might say “it must be in my hand at midnight” and there happens to be a statue in town called the Hag’s Hand.

[shatinn]

The red circle

The door to the basement was always locked, Acheron simply forbid him to go there but one day Saul find the entry slightly open. Acheron was not home at the time, Saul pushed the heavy door wider though he felt he should’t but he was curious. His excitement grew as he walked through the stone arches that divided the short foyer to sections. His way end up in the dimly lit chamber at the back of the basement...

The red drawing on the cold stone surrounded by the semi circled candles were pulling him, Saul felt something calling him to move forth. He stepped one more, stood in the middle of the cirle. There was quet no other sound then the flickering candle flames...

Saul remained in the red circle with it’s fascinating symbols and writings. He was captivated by the altar front of him what dominated the back wall. Eyes linger on the objects one by one what carefully placed upon the stone surface slowly putting the pieces together. What was sounded a joke a few months back turned out to be truth. Acheron is a warlock and this is his chamber to perform his magics and invocations. But why the door was open what Acheron sofar kept shut? Saul was sink into his thoughts not realising the approaching footsteps...

Acheron stepped into the circle next to Saul. The younger man try to avoid eye contact his mind working hard to come up with an excuse, to reason his bold action why he ignored the words of Acheron. Saul asked forgivness and his surprise Acheron showed no anger or disappointment at all...

What Saul did not know Acheron left the basement door open on purpuse. Many months ago their path crossed and ever since runs along side. Acheron felt it was time for Saul to learn the truth about his own life, to wipe away the lies his own family was feeding his mind with and step into the role and became a warlock as it was intended a long time ago. Acheron gave his assurance Saul do not have to face the difficulty and danger alone, he will be by his side. Always.

[sanmononoke]

San was an avid reader of the Squire. They didn't get a copy delivered to the castle, but she'd pluck one off town hall when she got a chance. (San did not realize she had to pay for them, but no one has stopped her yet!) She had her favorite journalists. Mr. Determined had a nice tone and Lou's cousin's snark showed through in everything she wrote.

But San was not happy with what she wrote this time. That hunter, she could smell him all over Enchantra, was attacked. It wasn't one of their pack, but that meant one of the others was fucking around and there would be consequences. Lou and Merida taught San early that people didn't like them simply for what they are. The cautionary tales are what kept her lid on most of the time. This news was only another tale in the making.

"Lou!" San had sprinted back through town and to the Acheron cottage, finding her pack mate walking up the weathered road. "Did you see? There was a werewolf attack..." She held the stolen paper up to his attention and quieted her tone conspiratorially.

[outfit]

@lou-bonfightme

Not One of Ours || Lan

[laszlowrobinson]

Off To A Bad Art|| Toulouse + Laszlo

Laszlo had seen the advertisement that the local tea shoppe was looking for local art to be displayed and at first had thought better not. But—! Then he saw who the contact information belonged to! It was not Mr. Hatter himself but instead one Toulouse Bonfamille! 

It had been a while since he’d had the occasion to talk to Toulouse. Ever since their collab for Tiana (which Laszlo thought had come out great!) they hadn’t spoken at all. Which was a shame! So, with that in mind while also wanting to participate in a local art call, Laszlo got to work on something. 

He then went to the address he had been told to present it, a lovely cottage that the Acheron’s also resided in. It was being carted behind him in a wagon, paint splattered sheet covering it (because he was a big fan of the dramatic reveal). Laszlo knocked at the door and stepped back, attention being stolen by— well everything around him really. 

@lou-bonfightme

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Lyssa (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- The Red Queen by the people of Olympius

The Red Menace by Zeus

Lady Venom by Ares

Blade Runner by Kratos

Age- 19 (immortal)

Location- Little Sparta, New Olympus

Personality- Lyssa is very impulsive, reckless, and quick to anger. One of her favorite things to do is wreak havoc and cause trouble. Seeing a calm, relaxed happy smile on her face is a rare sight. She doesn't see the fuss with minor gods (being one herself) having a more important role in the Olympian government. She describes herself as a "chaotic bisexual." She’s currently single.

Lyssa lives in a loft in the Little Sparta neighborhood of New Olympus and she also owns a small riverside cottage (by the river Acheron) in the Underworld. She really admires and respects her mother Atë (goddess of mischief, ruin, blind folly, delusion, & downfall of heroes). She's close to her older sister Mania (goddess of insanity). Even though she rags on him, she does genuinely care for her little brother Thrasos (god of boldness, insolence, recklessness, & courage).

She's aware (and doesn't really care) about her nearly non-existent approval rating by the majority of people in Olympius. Due to her nihilistic and brute nature, Lyssa has burned many bridges with the other gods, even Hestia (goddess of the hearth). She does have a small following on Fatestagram, but she thinks it's due to the photos she posted of herself wearing a black leather bodysuit.

She's also a DJ, performing under the name "Lady Venom," taking inspiration from Ares' nickname for her.

She has the standard abilities of a goddess- except shapeshifting. As the goddess of rage and frenzy, she can induce rabies in humans or animals as punishment. She can also induce a blinding rage in other people. She can communicate with all species of dogs and wolves.  

Her go-to drink is a bloody mary. She also likes dark cherry flavored soda, tequila, and beer.

Her favorite ice cream treat is black cherry ice cream on a chocolate charcoal cone. She also likes dark cherry-lime flavored lollipops!

She's good friends with Kakia (goddess of vice & moral wrongdoing), Eris (goddess of strife & discord), Lykos (goddess of wolves), Ganymede (god of homosexual love & desire), Bia (goddess of force & power), Hecate (goddess of magic & witchcraft), Keres (goddess of violent death), Nerissa (goddess of jellyfish), Pannychis (goddess of nightlife festivities), Diochetévo (goddess of sewers, garbage, & waste), Neféloma (goddess of space & dark matter), Methe (goddess of drunkenness), Alala (goddess of the war cry), The Furies, and Nemesis (goddess of retribution). She's also cordial with Kratos (god of strength) and his girlfriend Lysandra.

Lyssa hasn't quite warmed up to her mother's girlfriend Limos (goddess of starvation & famine), but she doesn’t necessarily dislike her.

Her official mentor was Enyo (goddess of war, destruction, bloodlust, & devastation).

Lyssa's only serious relationship was with Ares (god of war). They were together for a few years before things ended between them, their break-up resulting in five blocks of damage in New Olympus. They've recently reached out to each other to make amends & are slowly starting a friendship.

She used to have a raging crush on Menoetius (Titan god of rage, violence, & rash actions). Her current crush is Koros (god of surfeit & disdain).

Lyssa owns a couple of businesses (pertaining to dogs) as well as having her own line of hot sauces (Volcanic Pepper Sauce). For other work, Lyssa models for/endorses Hot Intoxication, atelier fantaisie, and La Petit Amour.

Her go-to meal is fire noodles, a few dynamite sushi rolls, and a big juicy steak (cooked medium well) with spicy barbeque drizzled on top.

She owns a collection of electric guitars, knives, and guns.

Lyssa is a HUGE animal lover (particularly dogs). She has quite the number of pets. They're three rottweilers named Diablo, Spike, and Venom, two pitbulls named Cutter and Dagger, a bloodhound named Pickles, and finally four german shepherds named Jalapeño, Sriracha, Ares jr, and Skully.

In her free time, she likes to play music, play video games, go go-karting, skateboarding, go to the shooting range, laser tag, martial arts, deep sea diving, & spending time with her dogs.

"Things are too quiet. It's time to blow something up!"

[prince--thomas]

Sword Upon Our Hearts [Part Four: In Your Heart Shall Burn] ~~ [The Golden Brio feat. Loud Bell and Merida]

In which the Golden Brio carry out the mission they’ve been sent to Swynlake for...[takes place: August 3, 2021]

@captain--john, @knightley--phillip, @heart-of-dunbroch​, @trip-downtheriverstyx​, @labellerose-acheron​, @lou-bonfightme​

[tw -- thoughts of murder, plots of murder, violence, lil bit of gore, burning]

BELLE: The hounds alerted them from the garden as dusk drew once more over the Acheron cottage. Shuck was on his feet in an instant as snarling sounded from outside. Belle, Merida, and Toulouse, who had been sitting around the table together feeding the children dinner, looked at each other for just a moment. There was a cool stillness that settled, Belle’s blood turning to ice in her veins. She wished, in a feeling as sharp and fast as a lightning strike, that Hades was home. But there wasn’t time to worry about him. It was the children who needed to be protected.

They had a plan, Belle reminded herself in that split second moment. They had several plans, for every possible scenario that they could think of. That was what having all this time had given them. She grasped onto the details tight: no matter what, but especially if Hades was gone (because there was a good chance, they would try to separate him from the rest), Belle was to take the children up to the secret office to hide until someone came to fetch her. Whether that be Hades, Toulouse, or Howl—who were the only ones who knew how to open it. Lou would guard the back door, Merida the front, with hounds at their sides. Shuck would be with Belle, just in case something went wrong, and she couldn’t get to the room in time, or the Order broke through their defenses.

Of course, Belle had her own plan: there was no way she was hiding while the rest of her family was fighting to protect them. She could fight now. At least, against the Order. They were simple Mundus, like herself. And if they could do it, so could she. But she kept this to herself after she had been shut down originally. Though her intentions still bubbled inside of her.

And as the chaos crashed into the house, as that single moment of trepidation broke, Belle knew what she had to do.

Lou disappeared in one movement, the wolf bursting from his skin and taking over by the time its paws touched the ground. Merida picked up Bellamy as Belle knelt in front of Opal, whose cast scratched against her collarbone uncomfortably as she climbed onto her mother’s back. With Opal clinging tight, Belle could scoop up Aidan and follow Merida into the hall. Her legs felt like jelly. As if Opal weighed a hundred pounds more than she did. Her heart was beating thready and fast. It felt like it took them centuries to get to the stairs, as if Belle was wading through a swamp.  

When they made it, Merida wordlessly handed Bellamy to her as well. This way, Belle had all three of the children, which was a heavy weight. She looked toward the stairs and braced herself before carefully beginning to climb. It was a good thing that she had spent the last few months in the gym rather frequently with Merida. Not to mention the adrenaline coursing through her.

She heard the front door open and then close, and she realized she was alone in the house. Shuck squeezed behind her on the stairs, his head in the small of her back and she let out a breath, pushing forward. By the time she was in the secret office, she was panting and trembling somewhat. Setting Bellamy and Aidan down in the play pen, she kissed both their foreheads, then Opal’s too. She handed her daughter one of her favourite books.

“Read this to your brothers,” she told her, kissing her daughter’s soft hair. “I love you. Maman will be right back, alright?”

“Okay, Maman. Love you.”

“That’s a brave girl.”

It was time for Belle to be brave too. She reached for her sword which she kept in the office (away from any accidents with the children.) Unsheathing it, she glanced at the hellhound, who sat patiently by the door. “Stay,” she told him. He whined once. “Protect the children.”

With that, she took a breath and then stepped back out into Hades’ bedroom, her grip firm and her eyes darting around the room. From inside the house, she couldn’t hear anything at all. It was horribly quiet. Belle took a few more steps, holding her sword out in front of her. She adjusted her grip a few times. And then, there was a creak on the steps. Belle drew back, her breathing shallow as pressed against a bookshelf. In the long shadows of dusk, her own was hidden from view, but she could see another one on the wall, creeping toward her.

There was a decision to make here. Merida had once told her that fights were made up of a million decisions—like chess, but faster. More instinct than strategy. Which was Belle’s weakness in a fight. She always wanted to hesitate or examine all of the options. In this scenario, there were two: wait, and surprise whoever this was or charge and try to gain the high ground by forcing them back against the stairs.

If she waited, the element of surprise would be sure. If she charged, she had no idea if she had the skill or the strength to fight off whoever it was. To put them on the defense. But, if she stayed here, she would be trapped and forced to fight anyway—

It was too late to make a decision. The assailant was already on top of her. Belle saw the toe of his boot and her body reacted. Her arms jerked up, trying to slash him upwards from below with a shout. Merida had always told her to use her height to her advantage, most men—especially in the Order—weren’t used to fighting someone as petite as she was.

PHILLIP: Phillip did not expect Belle Acheron to come at him with a sword.

The surprise only lasted a fraction of a second, though. He actually laughed a little, easily blocking her weapon with his own, the metal clashing. After that moment of shock passed, he grit his teeth together, pressing forward. He loomed nearly a foot over Belle and even though she’d caught him by surprise with the sword — must’ve been a gift from Merida or something — he had years of experience. He’d been training ever since he could walk, perhaps even before then, the Order sharpening him into a deadly weapon to wield for their own purposes. 

Phillip did not want to do this.

Phillip had to do this.

Phillip had to do this, because as he and John and Thomas stalked closer to the house, all he could think about was losing them. He did not want to do this, but he couldn’t imagine a life without John and Tom at his side. They had to do this, or else Tom’s mum and sisters wouldn’t be safe, or else their little nieces and nephews would be targets, or else John’s father would hurt him even more. Phillip was doing this not because he wanted to cleanse the world of wolves and demons, but because if he didn’t do this, he would lose John and Tom, maybe forever. 

That didn’t make it any easier.

At least this time there were no children to be seen. That would help him focus, at least. Never mind that he actually did quite like Belle and never mind that he’d seen half-finished dinner plates on the dining table.

“Your form’s not bad,” said Phillip. He basically had her cornered now and with a flick of his wrist, dislodged the sword from her hand. It clattered to the floor and he held his own sword up to her neck. “But your strategy needs work. Sort of stuff you can only get with years and years of experience, though.”

He stepped forward, the tip of his sword pointed to the wall, and swept an arm behind Belle so he could grab her arms with his left hand. Sword still pressed against her neck, he coaxed her forward.

“This’ll be over quickly if you all cooperate,” he said, trying to talk to remind himself why the fuck he was here in the first place. He did not want to think about the children, probably somewhere in the house, or the little cat he’d seen once. “My friends work fast.” 

MERIDA:  For the past couple of weeks, she’d practically been living at the Acherons. Whenever Hades wasn’t there, Merida stepped in. She went where Belle did, a loyal hound at her heel, always on alert. As the days wore on though, she knew the attack would be much more thoroughly planned than the last one-- and the last had been impressive as is. 

The Trio was watching. They were learning. They would soon memorize even these new patterns and figure out the most vulnerable time to attack. 

Merida told all of this to Belle, Hades, and Lou, and with each day that passed, the probability spiked. 

So when the snarling and howling began, Merida was ready. 

She jumped into action. Merida gathered little, sweet Bellamy in her arms and sped with Belle toward the stairs. She wished she could go up with her-- had argued this part of the plan, thought that she would be best used as another wall of defense, smarter and stronger than a hellhound. But the goal was to try to keep that extra wall from being necessary. And so as she handed off Bellamy, Merida followed her orders. She could do that for Belle. She was her warrior-- her sword-- her shield. 

And so Merida flung open the door, closed it behind her and drew her sword. 

She wasn’t surprised to see Tom emerge from the wood, fighting off one of the hounds. Merida’s eyes lit and she raced toward him. Attack him on both sides. Sure, her cousin would dispatch the hound, but Merida would make it harder on him. 

“Miss me, Tommy?!” She snarled as she lunged at him with a wild swing of her sword. 

THOMAS: It was time to get this over with, so that Tom could leave and never have to think of this place again.

That was how he felt, because there was no other way to feel. The inevitability of what would happen here had weighed on him for weeks. He would not be able to open in his role as Sky. He would leave behind Arista, Elliot, and his other friends. Swynlake would become another bad dream (it had given him plenty already, hadn’t it?) All it was was a place of misery. There would be nothing good here for him. It was a good thing then, to get this finished. To move on.

Then why did his steps feel so heavy as they marched toward the Acherons’ cottage? He didn’t dignify the question with an answer. Instead, he adjusted his sword in his grip and whistled sharp to get the attention of one of the hellhounds that he knew prowled around the house. There were two. Well, three all together, but one never left Belle’s side and they had figured in case of a fight, that would still be the case. 

He heard John’s answering whistle a few meters away where he was tucked in the trees near the garden. The hellhounds peeled apart, as they had assumed, when they realized the assailants were in two places. 

Next, Phil and Tom made their way to the front. Tom would head off whatever protection was there, while John distracted from the back--and Phil, slippery, cunning Phil, would find Belle. She was the hinge upon which the entire strategy swung. After all, if they could not easily dispatch the two werewolves or Hades somehow got free of the assault they had planned for him (doubtful, but they would not underestimate him again), she would be their bargaining chip to lay their weapons down. She was a Mundus. Harmless. And not their target anyway. She would live. As long as the rest of them complied. 

Tom did not think about that. He had to focus on the hellhound coming towards him. 

Adjusting the bucket of water in his hands, he waited steadily for the hound to lunge--

It was a simple trick, but when the demon met the water, it yelped and steamed, disoriented and weakened. In this state, it would not be able to jump through smoke. At least for a few moments, before it's hellfire evaporated the fire. It gave him just enough time to go at it with the sword. The hound lunged and snapped, but he managed to keep it away, his calf throbbing--not fully healed from its last encounter with a hellhound. 

He managed to make it halfway up the yard before Merida appeared and came at him with her sword. For a moment, Tom hesitated. It took just a flash of bright red hair. Merida’s voice echoing across the field. She was as human as ever: face flushed, eyes ablaze. 

Tom had prepared to meet the teeth of a beast, not the fury of his cousin. 

He didn’t say anything to her. If he could avoid it, he wouldn’t even look at her. 

Their swords meet in a dull clash of metal. She was strong and fast and angry, but Tom was determined and trained. He danced to the side, slashing at her and the hound in one swoop. Then, his sword arched back up to parry her next blow, pushing her back towards the house. He threw his weight behind it, knocking her backwards and then turning on his heel to catch the charging hellhound in the belly as it jumped at him again, barking and snarling, its mouth the pit of hell, sparks flying, setting a dry patch of grass aflame and catching on Tom’s shirt.

He shoved harder, twisting his sword. The demon yelped, sounding like Gilly when he accidentally stepped on her tail, and then dissolved. It gave him just enough time to swing back at Merida as she regained her balance and came at him again. 

Her sword slashed across the top of his shoulder and he grunted before slashing right back at her, doing whatever he could not to meet her gaze. Those DunBroch eyes the same as his own.

TOULOUSE: Toulouse was getting extremely sick of this.

He knew that being a werewolf was dangerous, but he had never thought of it this way. The danger coming to his family. To the children. To people who should not at all be involved in any of it. He had tried to leave. His solution to everything: running. But Hades and Belle had not let him. Guilted him into staying. Into helping protect their family. 

But Toulouse was not good at protecting anyone. He could hardly protect his brother and sister from the cruelty of the world. How was he supposed to protect Belle and Hades and the children from crazy, albeit well-trained, assholes hell bent on destroying them? He had absolutely no confidence that he could.

It was a good thing that the wolf. The wolf sure and confident in its every move. It was the wolf that took over as soon as the hellhounds started braying. 

Out in the garden, the ground was wet from a shower that had fallen earlier in the day. His paws sunk into the earth. A hellhound appeared at his side and John appeared in front of him.

Enemy, supplied the wolf. 

Toulouse growled, his black lips pulling back in a snarl. And he didn’t hesitate to lunge directly at the man, looking to knock him right off his feet and get his jaw around his throat. 

JOHN: This felt wrong. 

His brain wracked through days of trying to find another way. To find some way that they could get out of this and not face the wrath of the Order. But it was too late. They had made their move, albeit not because they had intended to, but they had already started the war with their botched battle. They had to end this.

His burns still itched, it would still be a while until they didn’t. A constant reminder of how stupid he’d been taking on Hades Archeron like that. His long sleeves covered the bandages up his arms but they wrapped around his hands as well. He fought through the discomfort for hours in practice to make sure he could wield a sword for this day.

He had to do this. Despite how much he hated every bit of what Francis had done to him, how he had spoken to his mates. He had to do this. This was the last thing and then he was done. He hadn’t told the lads yet, but he couldn’t do this anymore. He was done doing the Order’s dirty work. He was done doing everything and yet getting nothing in return, being branded some kind of fuck up. He wasn’t going to do this anymore. 

They’d come up with a three pronged plan for the attack. Phil and Tom were executing their sides well. He could already tell by the whistle and the clash of swords. But John had other things to deal with, he wasn’t up for facing the women wielding their swords in this, not with how his hands were. But he could attack the dogs and any other dogs that might come their way.

He and Tom had planned to take the hounds out by splitting them. And as luck would have it, it worked, but John hadn’t expected his rotten luck with animals to also immediately grab the attention of a very large wolf, one that he’d seen before and stabbed at before fleeing in the last bout. Toulouse. 

He dispatched of the hellhound easily enough as it got close to him, water then slash but Lou was right on its heels and John only had a split second to act. The wolf bounded forward and sprang up. Now, John was not strong, sure, by most normal standards he was rather fit but compared to Tom, he was not the muscle of this, but he was the brains. 

As Lou closed the distance, John thrust his sword up, holding it across himself with both hands as the jaws came snapping at him and pushed him down into the dirt. Rather than just be pounced on, he had been falling backwards already, using his momentum and then the added push from the wolf to kick his feet up and throw the wolf back behind him as he rolled to his feet, already panting as his heart raced. That was too close. He could feel the breath from the wolf still on his face.

With that adrenaline, John’s face formed into a wicked smirk he got only when he was on a mission or about to beat someone’s head in for messing with his lads, one that he’d seen come from Francis Smith time and time again. They had to end this. 

“Oh c’mon, Lou. No hard feelings about that lighting incident,  yeah?”

He flipped his sword in his hand and readied his stance for the next attack, but also watching out of the corner of his eyes for any possible routes of escape up into the trees.

MERIDA: The plan had included the wolf, but Merida would not depend on her-- not unless she really needed it in the end. It was a matter of pride for her to look at Tom with her own eyes, to meet his sword with her own. She wanted to prove something to him-- to all the Order. Perhaps they’d not win today, but if they could beat them back, he wanted Tom to carry with him a story about Merida, not the beast. That she was wild, but graceful, that she was strong and controlled. That she fought with a clear style, a style that was the Order’s own.

She was one of them and she was not. She was not a monster. But the Order had made her and they had to live with that. 

She’d force Tommy, then, to face her. As she attacked, he tried not to-- she noticed that. He alternated between blocking her blows and fighting back Baskerville, until he bested the beast with an expert stab to the chest. Baskerville evaporated with a long howl. Merida did not let it distract her. 

He came at her with hard, fast swings now that he had no one else to worry about. Merida blocked each one, grit her jaw. She’d let him get into a rhythm, lower his guard--

And then she planted her feet and let out a wild shout, lunging forward to force Tommy back. She caught his shoulder, though the blade did not sink its teeth in, only drew blood in a glancing blow. Course Tommy was too skilled to let it throw him, but she saw something change in his eyes. 

“That’s right!” she grinned wolfishly. “Your cousin’s all grown up, Tommy. Ye want to keep playin’?” 

And she lunged again. 

THOMAS: Tom had been expecting to face a wolf, not a girl. 

A beast. Not his cousin. Who was just the same as she had been the last time he saw her properly, years ago now, hair disheveled as she removed her helmet from the tourney—gaze defiant, jaw set. 

She had that same look now and it threw him off, causing him to misstep. Letting her get a cut at him. The wound bit him immediately, the pain radiating down his arm. He didn’t let it phase him. He let it wake him up. To focus on that pain and the fight as their swords clashed. 

Merida had a wild sort of fury to her style, but she was controlled as well. He recognized her moves and matched them with their countermoves fluidly. This was not like fighting an enemy. It was like sparring with one of his mates. The only difference was the flashes of long red hair. 

Despite this, she wasn’t matched in his skill. He had been holding a sword since he was a tot, since his arms had been able to keep it upright. And he trained hard—both as a knight and as a firefighter, so he had a brute force to his every slash and cut that Merida simply didn’t. He had never been as prepared as John or clever as Phil. Once, he hadn’t even been strong: he’d been a small boy. He knew what it feel pushed around. 

He tried not to think of that now. 

His strikes came harder. He wasn’t, necessarily trying to kill her, even though he should be. He drove her back towards John. Tom had every faith that his mate could best a hellhound and a werewolf and then help him dispatch Merida. The fight grew more frantic as the both of them tired. Sword fighting wasn’t meant to be a long term engagement, but he pushed her and pushed her. Sweat dropped into his eyes and he let them burn as they crashed through the low garden fence—tearing through vegetables and flowers, lovingly tended and thriving. It was almost over. With every scrambling step and snarl in the distance, they grew closer to the goal. 

They were the Order’s finest princes and they had come to end this war. 

Tom deafened his ears to any of Merida’s taunts. He couldn’t stand the sound of her voice. It widened the pit in his gut that made him feel dizzy, unsteady. She was a girl. A girl with freckles on her arm, who used to beg him to show her how to hold a sword. And he used to laugh, along with all their other cousins. But, he had learned since then that maybe women should learn how to use a sword. To protect themselves from evil men. 

Like him. 

His blade slashed towards her, twisting at the last second and slicing along her thigh. It was all adrenaline and the scramble of a battle. She went down on one knee with a cry and Tom’s training took over, finding the weak spot in your opponent and—

Tom’s sword slid easily into the joint between Merida’s thigh and hip, stabbing her through the side. 

MERIDA: Merida knew she might not win. The Golden Trio they were called, and they were called that for a reason. They had natural talent, but more importantly they had skill and experience that Merida didn’t. The wolf gave her advantage enough to keep her sword from dipping, to empower her with an endurance that would hopefully tire the likes of Tom out. But it was all a gamble, and so Merida’s main objective was not to win.

She was here to keep Tom busy. 

If she stalled him long enough, Belle would be safe; priority one. If she stalled him long enough, Hades would arrive. He’d already been alerted. It had been only a minute since the attack began-- maybe less, maybe more, Merida didn’t know. But he’d be here soon, either way. And once he was, this peaceful garden would transform into something else-- a graveyard of ghosts and hellfire. She told Hades they inevitably had charms against his magic, but Hades was too powerful to be completely neutralized. Unlike last time, when they surprised him, he knew what he’d be coming into.

So she had to keep holding on. 

Merida let him force her back-- away from the front door. That’s all that mattered. She retreated, but always made sure he was following her. But as the fight wore on, her original plan faded and her anger at the Order grew.  Her desire to win flared, hot and dangerous.

She wanted to win for Belle. She wanted to kill her cousin. Maybe he didn’t-- but she did. She wanted to kill him the way she knew most of the Order wanted to kill her. 

She wanted to win for her, to show that she could.

And so she let out a wild shout and threw force into her movements. Their swords clashed with more fury, almost hard enough to create sparks. Her eyes grew wild. The wolf inside her snarled. But the harder Merida hit, the more reckless she became. 

She failed to guard just once. Just once. But that was always enough. Tom’s sword found its mark, tore into her flesh and she cried out, stumbling down. Before she could even call for the wolf, Tom stabbed her a second time. Merida gasped in pain, and dropped her sword. As soon as he pulled his sword out, her hand went to block the gaping wound. He’d avoided any major organs-- something that she recognized now as pity. Merida’s gaze snapped up and she glared at him with a dirty, sweaty brow, wild pieces of curls escaping from her band. 

“What, Tommy? Is it too hard to slay a beast when it looks like me?” she taunted him. “Go on.” 

PHILLIP: This shouldn’t be so easy. 

Phillip wondered if that ever crossed the minds of the rest of the Order. As they sliced their blades through flesh, as they stabbed through muscle, as they held a sword up to a woman’s delicate throat, did they ever think about how taking a life should not come so easily? It wasn’t hard. Just a slash, just pressing a little harder, and Belle would crumple in his arms, a necklace of scarlet slashed across her neck.

The shadows on the walls seemed longer than they should be. Phillip walked forward and he did not say anything. All he did was listen to the beat of his heart, which he felt sounded louder than it should, in some sick, twisted Edgar Allen Poe sort of way.

At least there were no children here. At least if they did what they came here to do, at least if everything went according to plan, Belle could go free with the little ones and that was, at least, something. 

It should not be so easy to think of the slaughter of three as something going right. And yet, and yet, this was the outcome Phillip hoped for, because it was the best one, because the alternative was slaughtering Belle and the children as well. 

(He could not think of the third option; he did not allow himself, because that third option meant losing John and Tom, and while there were many things Phillip could bear, this was not one of them). 

He heard noise — he knew he needed to go there, but the noise was not the howl of a wolf, but the shout of a woman. Of Merida, he realized. Of Merida, who he’d known as a girl. His grip on Belle’s arms tightened, though he took care no to press his sword any closer to her throat.

He stepped out of the doorway, lingering a bit as he looked on the scene in the garden.

“Back off,” he growled, to the wolf who John was fighting and also at — well, at Merida, who had a dark stain on her side that he tried his best not to look at. “Back off or I’ll kill her.” 

HADES: The ghosts came howling for him.  

As expected, the Order went the route of cowards. For an organization that built its empires on the backs of slain magicks, they had no spine in them to deal with the likes of Hades. Instead, they waited until his family was vulnerable. That’s what they were doing: attacking a family, who had been sitting down for dinner after a long day of simple, mundane things. Babysitting, colouring sheets, trips to the library. That’s what the Order sought to stop: not Hades, but the joy that Hades had cultivated in his wife, his partner, his children. 

He’d give them this: they did their research. Hades tried to shadow jump from the town hall to home, to be there in a blink and light them all on fire like kindling. But his powers halted. With a vicious snarl, he realized they must have come in earlier, put salt in the corners of every room of the fucking building. 

And so Hades had to run-- had to speed his way down the rickety town hall stairs and out onto the streets of Swynlake, so he could finally use his magic. It delayed him two minutes. 

Two minutes were apparently all they needed. 

He appeared in the shadows of the garden and his hands exploded with fire. He stepped out and lifted a hand to take Tom’s sword and turn it against him. But that was when Phillip came out with his wife in his clutches. 

Hades froze. The fire did not go out though. It flickered, alive, up his arms. His eyes narrowed. 

He wasn’t going to lose Belle-- but he wasn’t going to let himself be toyed with like this either.

“You’ll kill a mundus? You’ll kill a mother?” he taunted. And then: “If you kill her, I’ll light every one of your friends on fire. You’ll watch them burn, and I’ll still save my wife. I’ve got a direct fucking line to the Underworld, you Order prick. Who the hell do you think I am?”

A bluff, but sometimes you had to bluff in a game of chess. 

THOMAS: Hades appeared, just as they expected him to. 

Everything had been going to plan until then. Or--well, mostly. John and Tom were supposed to have killed the wolves so that there was only Hades to deal with. The three of them at once would be able to take him, the trio reasoned. They were not under the same impression that Phoebus had been. This was a demon, but one who loved his wife and his spawn. Who may have tried to live as a human, but who was not made for this world. It was a weakness, as much as it was for any mortal. He would bend to them easily. Especially with his pretty little wife as their captive. 

But now, the chaotic scene paused and it wasn’t a demon who appeared--but a man. Not much older or younger than any of them. Tom could see the fear flickering in his eyes. The anger. And he knew with a warrior’s instinct that he meant every threat. 

The word mother struck Tom square in the chest. That was what Belle was. A mother. He had seen her with her children. Had seen her with Merida, laughing--unafraid of a wolf. Had seen her patiently helping others find books or studying in the university library, just like his friends. She was just a girl. A woman. Sweet and gentle. She had tamed impossible monsters and stood now with her lip trembling but eyes hard. Braver than him.

In that moment: Tom knew that they had already lost. He was not the strategic one, but he had a heart and people he loved. If they killed Belle, Hades would send this entire house up in flames and take all of them with him. They would turn him into a bomb. Even if Tom killed Merida and moved to help Phil, there was nothing stopping Hades from setting him aflame. Or if John killed Toulouse, he would burn too. And Tom couldn’t let that happen.

Maybe there was a way to win. Maybe John knew it. 

Tom didn’t care. He stared down at Merida--her proud chin jutted out, but her fingers were trembling and he knew she was scared. Just like they were all scared. 

What were they doing? 

Suddenly, Tom’s vision blurred and he blinked rapidly, clearing it again. He took a shuddering breath and stepped away from where he had been looming over Merida’s prone form. His sword clattered to the ground, as if it had burned him. 

It wasn’t Hades he looked to. But Merida first. “I-I’m sorry,” he told her. 

His gaze snapped to Phil’s, to John’s. “I’m sorry. I can't do it.” 

PHILLIP: This would all be over soon. 

This would all be over soon.

This would all be over soon.

Phillip kept repeating the phrase to himself. This would all be over soon. This would all be over soon. They’d  kill the wolves and they’d force Hades to his knees. He didn’t know how, but they’d do it because they were the Golden Trio and that is what they did. This would all be over soon. This would all be over soon. Hades cursed at them and he threatened them, but Phillip did not falter, because he had John and Tom at his side and if there was anyone who could figure a way out of a demon’s trap it was the three of them.

This would all be over soon. 

Hades’ words didn’t even register to Phillip. Let me die, he thought, let us die together, because that’s better than failure. That was better than admitting he couldn’t do this, better than turning his back on Tom and John. Phillip would rather die than betray them, would rather kill his own spirit than turn against his best friends.

This would all be over soon.

He held the blade to Belle’s throat and he glanced at John then to Tom and he knew one of them just had to do it — had to strike, and the rest of them would, and then maybe Hades would burn them to the ground, but for the first time in over ten years, Phillip welcomed the flames.

In that moment, Phillip made up his mind, because he felt there was no alternative. Either he betrayed Tom and John, or the three of them burned together. 

This would all be over soon.

He grit his teeth, hardening his resolve when —

Tom’s sword clattered to the ground. He looked from Phillip to John, the tears on his face illuminated by the moonlight, his mouth twisted and his hands shaking.

And in that moment, Phillip changed his mind. 

He threw his own sword to the ground, shoving Belle forward slightly towards her husband, then ran towards Thomas, grabbing him roughly to his own chest and collapsing to the floor.

“It’s all right,” said Phillip. “It’s all right.”

JOHN: John had done his best against Lou, but his heart had never intended to slaughter him, no matter how many times his sword lined up perfectly, he fought defensively, a rip or scratch here and there as Lou passed him by and he was growing tired. He knew if something hadn’t changed the tides, he’d have to act in desperation and leave himself open in striking out and beyond that it was a 50/50 shot that he would be able to fell a werewolf on his own. 

But he needed to make sure that Phil and Tom were alright, so he kept the wolf at bay, inching his way as he struck out towards his mates, hearing the clashing of swords stop and the shouting of voices. He looked back to Phil now, has he threatened, his sword at a woman’s throat. It all felt wrong. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to do any of this. His father was wrong. He saw that. But this was their way out. He could be free of it. This was his last mission, he was sure of it. They’d do their own thing soon enough. 

Or so he thought.

As soon as Hades came through, John had the feeling they wouldn’t be able to finish this. There were only three of them and too many powers. He knew this, he’d gone over the strategy but to admit weakness to the Order would just complicate things further. They had to prove themselves. But just as John had planned and thought, they were outmatched. 

At Hades’ words, John didn’t doubt that the fire would consume him and his mates. His burns prickled on his arms, like just being close enough to the source of what had caused them made it burn all over again. Like a burn near too much heat.

He paused, Lou had also paused at the threat of Belle, but he looked to the wolf and he looked to his mates. Looked to the man and his wife. Tom had thrown in the towel, crumbling in a way that made it hard for John to watch, unable to finish Merida. Phil too had crumbled, grabbing onto Thomas. He would be strong for both of them, he would help them out of this. He would use every last breath in his body to save his mates. 

John walked forward, trying to catch his breath and staring down the face of the man they’d just tried to take everything from like a man who didn’t fear death.  Because he didn’t. He feared the death of who he held closest. And right now, that was not his family. It was his brothers, his mates. 

He stood in front of his mates, sword in his hands, bringing it up, twisting it and then swiftly shoving it into the ground beneath him, he would do what he was good for in this group, he would talk and strategize his way through this, “We surrender and through surrendering we effectively defect from the Order. We never wanted this. Not for a moment. The Order taught us that this would somehow save our own families, but that certainly doesn’t excuse the pain we’ve brought to yours. What are your terms, Hades?”

HADES:  A surrender? 

Hades’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t buy it, even as Belle came stumbling toward him. He let his fire die so the night no longer flickered with their eerie, dangerous blue, but he still felt the teeth of the flame in his skin, how much it longed to bite and consume. And he wanted to feed it. Make no mistake. If anything-- now was the perfect chance to show no mercy and send them up into flames anyway.

He didn’t care about their families. He didn’t care about their tears. He didn’t care about repentance. He didn’t believe in second chances. 

Behind him, Lou growled, and he knew his partner felt the same way.

Belle’s hand on his arm, more than anything else, stilled him-- reminded him of the greater mission. It was not a hand of mercy-- at least, that wasn’t how Hades interpreted it, even though his wife had a soft and kind heart. To him, the hand communicated one thing: wait. 

This was part of the plan too. Not to murder them outright-- to capture them and use them as their pawns to get to the King. To the heart of the Order. And destroy it once and for all. 

So no, he didn’t fucking trust any of them, but he’d listen to his wife. After all, it was the Queen who held the most power in the game of chess. 

“My terms? Very fucking simple. You do whatever the hell I say now, and you never-- never-- raise a weapon against me or my family again. And you will swear it by magic.” 

He raised his hands and John’s hands were jerked up in front of them, pressed together as if Hades had handcuffed him. He might as well have; there was no point in struggling against them. 

“Tie them up-- Belle, call Howl.” 

“Thought you’d never ask,” mumbled a bleeding Merida on the ground. And with a wild shout, the woman lurched up and punched Phillip Knightley as hard as she could across the jaw. Despite the blood running through the fingers on her other hand, her eyes glimmered with plenty of strength. “I’ll get the rope.”

[exsgttibbs]

@labellerose-acheron

When Tibbs had sent a text to Belle asking if he could call in whilst he was walking the dogs, he had admittedly done so with an ulterior motive. It had been a while since he had seen Belle, so it would be good to catch up, but he was hoping she might be able to help. Bridgette wanted to find a way to break her curse, which was very good news, but Tibbs had absolutely no idea where to start. Admittedly, for living in a magic-friendly town, he didn't have all that much to do with magic. The odd Magick patient here and there, if they weren't under the care of a specialist as many were, and then the background information that he had absorbed via osmosis, the effect of living in Swynlake. He had an idea that a sorcerer might be able to help, but he had no idea where he should begin, and the last thing he wanted to do was waste time.

Belle, however, would probably have a better idea, just by the nature of being who she was. Often in some kind of trouble, often helping people who needed help, and always reading. All of which, he assumed, would make it quite likely that she had come across at least some kind of curse in her time. Even if she could point him in the right direction, give him an idea of where to look, it would be a start.

So he got changed after work and took the dogs out, leading them towards the Acheron home. He supposed he could have asked if she'd like to get coffee at Hatter's, or if she'd be free to come round to his house, but the first seemed too exposed and the latter seemed too presumptuous. For some reason this felt like the kind of conversation that had to happen in private, mostly because he didn't want to go airing his or Bridgette's business out where anyone could hear, and he also thought it was just rude to ask someone if they could come to you. Belle was a busy person, and though she didn't know it yet, Tibbs was asking for her help, so it was only right that he should go to her.

He knocked on the door of the cottage, turning to the dogs to try and get them to sit politely as he waited for the door to open.

(outfit)

where to start || beautibbs

[magaprima]

Lilith’s energy is entirely different in the first half of Part 3 while Lucifer is trapped and bound. It is so different from what we had seen throughout Part 1 and 2; her energy and attitude is so much brighter and bolder, and has so much more confidence, she’s even sassier than she usually is and it feels like she’s even bouncing a little,her voice is louder, her delivery is unreserved, she just has such a different vibe while Lucifer is trapped in the flesh Acheron. Like, even when she is made Regent instead of Queen, even while dealing with the whole Unholy Regalia thing, none of that bold, bright energy fades. Even in her sass battles with Blackwood in Part 1 she was still far more reserved and pulled back than we see her in her sass battles with Caliban. It is like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders (understandably so) and suddenly Lilith is free to be herself without caution or reservation, which creates this entirely different energy.

And then the moment she learns Lucifer is wandering free, we see her entire personality revert again, her behaviour is almost right back to early Part 1 where she was quivering in fright before him. We lose that bold, bright Lilith (and we don’t see that confidence return fully until she’s literally stabbing him in the back and banishing him at the end of Part 4) and the weight is right back on her, dragging her down, confining her.

 And then when he catches up with her and says ‘Very good, Lilith, we’ll want privacy for what comes next; The Ritual of Separation’ and he drags her by her hair, we hear her scream, genuinely scream in pain and fright, and then in the next scene they’re in, she’s back to that quiet, reserved, ‘play-the-game’ Lilith we saw in Part 1 and 2 (and I really don’t like to think about how physically violent he likely was in order to get her to the point where she’s sat on the edge of the bath bathing him calmly and dutifully, after she was being dragged screaming through the cottage). Even when she tells him she’s carrying his son so he can no longer do what he was planning to do to her, it’s not with that bold, bright, bouncing sass of early Part 3...it’s back tot he cautious Lilith, the survivalist, who knows when to pull back and what parts of herself to tone down in order to live to see the next day and even live to see her freedom. 

And I find her bright energy so amazing and I love it so much, but then it breaks my heart that circumstances (out of her own influence entirely -glares at Nick for freeing him in exchange for crazy infernal drugs and glares at Sabrina for not keeping him very secure in the first place- )take that away from her. 

Lilith is someone who we see time and time again wants to be happy-- it makes her very different from the rest of Hell whos eem to thrive on apocalypses and torture, while Lilith, when she allows herself to be herself, thrives on being happy and enjoying things (whether that’s romance, or being in a position of power (I include being Principal in that as she seemed to thrive in that role) or just getting to be free to do whatever she likes) which is a reminder that Lilith is a witch and also part human and that’s where all that comes from.....and it hurts that that happiness is always ruined by things outside of her control, by outside forces. 

[sanmononoke]

Pack Mentality

San runs to the people she trusts.

Set: Late May 2021, right after San gets in a fight with another wolf.

Featuring: Merida, Lou, and Belle

@heart-of-dunbroch @lou-bonfightme @labellerose-acheron

TW: Blood, mentions of violence, gore(ish)

SAN: 

The only covering the young werewolf had were the leaves and damp foliage that stuck to her legs as she ran through them. She was still panting, each inhale drying her throat just a bit more. Blood stuck to her chin and down her front but that wasn’t her’s, it wasn’t of concern. Her blood still trickled from her hand and dripped off her elbow even though it was clutched tightly to her chest. 

It wasn’t healing fast enough! And the adrenaline coursing through her small frame didn’t help to stop the flow. It was a wild look. But she was a wild girl. As untamed as her hair after her most recent scuffle that ended her here, running through the forest. She needed help. So San Mononoke fled as fast as she could to the one place she’d felt truly safe since she left her home. A small cottage filled to the brim with books and a family. But she couldn’t go there. No one was home. She went to the second best place, where her family was: the Bonfamille Manor.

Lou had said it was rude to barge in or to show up unexpectedly, but she didn’t have a choice. San was scared. 

And it’s not like she could call ahead. So naked, covered in undergrowth and blood… she banged on the door of the manor. “Help. Me.” She begged in between breaths. 

TOULOUSE:

There was an understanding between the Acherons that an unexpected knock on the door was never a good thing.

However, Toulouse was a Bonfamille and this was the manor. When unexpected knocks were just his mother’s friends, dropping by for tea or someone delivering something for Nounou. He was never informed of plans in advance, just expected to act with grace when visitors did grace their doorstep, whether a workman or the president of France. 

It was, most likely, not the president of France at the door at such a late hour, but Lou thought nothing of opening it to see who it was. He had heard someone approaching from the kitchen where he was making tea for himself, Belle, and Hades, the latter two of which were currently upstairs, putting the children to bed. The hour was not so late to have a visitor be unwarranted, he was French after all. They often entertained well into the evening.

He was halfway to the door when he heard the words on the other side of it and the wolf in him perked up. Rushing the last few steps, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. On the doorstep was San, bloodied and terrified. 

Toulouse did not baulk. He did not even flinch. “Come inside,” he said instead, opening the door further and stepping away so she could stumble in. His eyes searched over her body for injuries and found only the one on her hand where she was clutching. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the house, taking her into the kitchen. His mother would kill him if he got blood on the upholstery. 

“Sit down,” he said, gentle and firm. “I will be right back.” 

Toulouse moved through the kitchen, into the living room, scooping a blanket off the couch. From there, he rounded back into the foyer, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Hades! Belle! Come down, as soon as you get a moment.” He figured, if they did not hear him, the ghosts would alert Hades. Turning on his heel, he moved into the kitchen again, turning the water on in the sink so that it would run hot and then moving to San and throwing the blanket over her shoulders.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

SAN:

Lou acted fast. Swooping her into the kitchen with an urgency she’d normally assume he was cross when he used. She didn’t say any more, only doing as she was told. San had just ran what felt like a million miles to get here. Now that she was indoors, in a pristine manor no less, she felt the waves of terror crash down on her. The werewolf was vibrating in her own skin. She hadn’t noticed all of the noises before but it seemed like everything was much too loud. The birds outside, the humming of a lightbulb, even her own thoughts were amplified. The adrenaline that carried her here was fading. 

As Lou stepped away, she shakily took a look at her finger. Or what was left of it… immediately upon unclenching her fist blood spurted from the tip. “Agh!” 

San quickly clutched it back to her chest and started shaking. What were they going to do? The people she’d come to know told her that werewolves weren’t treated at hospitals because they were different. San had never considered a hospital until now, and only because she wasn’t healing like normal. 

A blanket was placed over her and so was Lou’s hand and she welcomed the subtle warmth of it. Looking back to the other wolf, the one who hadn’t hurt her, she opened her mouth to talk. A moment of silence passed, but San took a breath and said, “I’m fine… but… it was a wolf who… another wolf hurt me.”

It was still difficult to comprehend the kind of betrayal she felt. Why would a fellow werewolf hurt one of their own? It wasn’t just her hand that was hurt by the attack. 

TOULOUSE:

Despite himself, Lou was a bit thrilled at the prospect of an injury. After he had been kicked from his medical program, Lou had felt more restless than ever. He had liked medicine, not because he liked healing people, but because he liked the mechanics of it. Liked taking chaos and making it orderly. It was a way in which he could use his condition (bipolar disorder) to his advantage. His brain worked quickly and in emergency situations, it made him feel like the rest of the world had finally caught up to the level that he operated on at all times.

He smelt the blood, which was new, but it was also helpful. 

As she spoke, he gently took her injured hand in his, pulling it away from her chest again. His thumb moved to the inside of her wrist, feeling her heartbeat--which was strong, but not thready, which meant her blood pressure was alright. His eyes flicked up towards her at her explanation and his brow furrowed. Another wolf? Was there even another wolf in town? Merida hadn’t told him anything. 

“Alright, it’s alright,” Lou said, his voice uncharacteristically coddling. “It’s not life threatening. We’ll get you cleaned up. You’ve lost quite a bit of blood, but I think you’ll be okay with a bit of rest. Put pressure on that and I’ll--”

“Toulouse, what--oh mon dieu!” Belle exclaimed as she came into the kitchen. Her eyes went wide at once. “What happened?”

“Another wolf attacked her,” Lou said in a clipped tone. “Belle, be a dear and get some hot water and iodine from the cupboard.” 

“And I’ll call Merida.”

“Yes, do that as well. She should know about this. And hand me a towel.”

Belle hesitated for a moment. “Does it, er, matter?” 

“Not right now it doesn’t, just any towel,” Lou scowled at her.

“Sorry, right, yes.” Belle snapped the hand towel off the stove which was usually just decoration and tossed it towards him. 

Lou wrapped it around San’s finger and then covered her hand with his, squeezing. “We’ll get you cleaned up and take a better look at this. Hold it just like I am. I’m going to get you some water, oui?”

MERIDA: The call came out of nowhere. 

Merida missed the first one. She’d never been one for hangin’ onto her phone and texting the way many people her age were. She preferred to busy her hands and her brain with other things, and living a life sequestered in the woods meant a phone was barely needed. 

Until a mad man attacked one of your own. 

So when she got the call eventually-- after comin’ in from trekking through Enchantra-- Merida sped her way as quick as she could to the Bonfamille manor. She stomped her way in, not botherin’ to take off her muddy boots even as Nounou squawked behind her about it. There were more serious things for her to worry about. How had the attack happened? Who would do such a thing, eh? And why?

Her brain jumped to the Order. She saw her Da’s face. She saw the Golden Trio’s faces. She wondered if this was a message to her, or if she was just lettin’ her paranoia get the best of her…

“What happened?!” she barked as she walked in and saw a shuddering San. She went to her side instantly. Technically, San was not truly part of her pack, but the wolf did not care for those technicalities. She lived with Merida. She was Merida’s. Merida put her hand on San’s shoulders, eyes goin’ soft. “Who did this to you?” 

SAN:

San was not used to all of this fuss. It was just as overwhelming as being attacked was. At first it seemed like everything was slowing down. Belle and Lou, San’s heart rate, the noise, even the bleeding. It all sped back up when Merida walked through the door. “I-- I don’t know who… he was a wolf. Like us.” San said honestly. She knew she wasn’t in trouble, but that was all she knew and it wasn’t very helpful. And the last thing she wanted was to disappoint Merida. A wolf who took her in, and the family she loved; they took a huge risk by letting San stay in town. Especially when a rogue, and mean, werewolf was on the loose and a danger to them all. Had San put her new family in danger? 

“I found him in the forest, or he found me… I don’t know if he was looking for me. I swear, none of my pack were werewolves! And none of them survived, even! Only my mother got away, and she’d never hurt any of you. I don’t know who this was. He just ripped my fingernail off and left me alone. I promise I don’t know more,” San cried shrilly. She really didn’t want them to think she had caused this. 

TOULOUSE:

By the time Lou had come back with water, Merida had burst through the door. Lou scowled as she tracked mud across the kitchen, but at least they were in the kitchen and not the living room. Thank goodness for small mercies. 

While Merida went to coddle San, Lou crouched down next to her. He went to work on her hand. Belle had come by with a bowl full of steaming water and some iodine she must’ve found in the cupboard. Soaking the rag in the water, he lifted the towel off of San’s hand as she whimpered to Merida. In his opinion, he didn’t care much about what had happened, as long as San was alright. He was focused on his task, cleaning the blood from the wound so that he could see the damage better. 

It wasn’t so bad, he didn’t think. Besides, werewolves healed rather fast. Even for a wound that was as mangled as this. Still, he held her hand over the bowl and poured the iodine over it generously. 

“This may sting,” he said, while already in the process of it.

Meanwhile, Belle was standing, watching, with her arms crossed.

“Did they take a fingernail or...did they take a claw?” Belle asked, though, apparently she found the answer rather rhetorical, because she turned to Merida a moment later.

“I think it is best we let Arthur know.  It is entirely possible the Blackwells were responsible for this.” 

MERIDA: 

Another werewolf. 

Of all the answers, Merida expected this one the least. If there was another werewolf--wouldn’t Merida have scented them? The woods were large, naturally, and it had been raining often these days but-- still. Why hadn’t she known there was another werewolf in town that Merida didn’t know about? But more importantly… why would they attack San instead of confronting her? 

It was not normal wolf behavior. If it was a rogue, attacking another wolf unprovoked made no sense. If it was a wolf looking to establish its territory, then perhaps goin’ after San… but it wouldn’t have hidden its scent. There’d be other signs. It would hunt, it would push the boundaries, her alpha would know.

Belle’s conclusion made sense then, even if it took Merida a second to catch up. She frowned at Belle. What the hell would the Blackwells want with… 

“Is that-- that’s one of the items for the spell?” Merida questioned. She’d been told about the spell, but there were so many parts to it, it wasn’t like she had memorized all of ‘em. “That means they wouldn’t come back, aye, if they got what they wanted? San will be safe?” 

SAN:

San hissed and tried to pull away from Toulouse when he treated her wound. “Ow! That hurts!” She whined. 

She listened to the conversation and tried to cooperate with Lou, even when it hurt. What did they mean by spells, and Blackwell’s, and Arthur? Who was that and why would he care about her finger being nearly ripped off? “They got what they wanted by attacking me? I don’t even know who they are! I guess he took a claw… we fought as wolves so....” 

San didn’t understand the stakes of this. It was all above her paygrade. Lou didn’t seem to be entrenched in all of this nonsense, so she asked him quietly as Belle and Merida spoke, “will my claw grow back? It isn’t healing right…” 

TOULOUSE:

“I don’t know,” both Belle and Toulouse said at the same time to their respective questions. 

Toulouse had no idea how werewolf magic worked. He felt himself once again growing frustrated with his lack of understanding and the limitations society placed on werewolves and doctors who might like to help them. If doctors actually did research on werewolves, he would know. If werewolves were allowed to become doctors, perhaps he would at least have theories. 

“For now, let us just get this cleaned, hm? It is not life threatening. I do not think it needs stitches. The bleeding has already stopped.” It was a gruesome wound, albeit small, but Toulouse was right. The bleeding had mostly stopped. Which, he could only theorize, had to do with the wolf’s magic. 

“As for the Blackwells,” Belle said, turning from where she had been looking toward Lou, listening to his diagnosis, “I don’t think Zira is the type to appreciate loose ends but—if the wolf got what it wanted and ran off, I feel as if the chances of another attack are more slim. We best be on our guard.” She shook her head. “We should have been more so before this. I’m sorry, San.” 

MERIDA: 

Merida frowned. 

She felt antsy-- no, worse. She felt like there was a target on their back, and there had been for quite some time right under Merida’s nose. What kind of alpha was she if the Order could slip into town and she didn’t notice? And for the Blackwells to so easily target San, the weakest of their pack? Merida should have been more prepared. She needed--

She needed a real pack. Her eyes slid to San and to Lou. There was no way that Lou would patrol and protect their lands. San wasn’t even proper part of the pack as is. But now, more than before, it felt essential that they fixed that. There was power in numbers, and Merida’s enemies were circling. 

“After yer done with that, Lou, we need to talk,” Merida said stiffly, her jaw tight. 

Things needed to change.

SAN:

San nodded solemnly at Lou’s answer. She feared the unknown. She wanted her claw back! It was humiliating to have lost a fight this way… and she had to retreat with her tail tucked between her legs. Now, she might have less defenses against further attacks. 

At the thought of future attacks, San tuned back into Belle and Merida’s conversation. If the wolf got what he wanted she’d be safe. Unless Zira thought San was a loose end… 

I’m sorry, San.

The words hit her like a brick being tossed into a pool, and like the waves San rose. The blanket slipped from her shoulder, but she held it close with her uninjured hand. She was shaking again, but not with fear. “No. I won’t be a target or a loose end, or a danger to you! I can find him. I’ll rip him apart, I won’t lose this time!” 

San’s voice was shrill and determined. At the beginning of this, she didn’t think her being attacked by a renegade wolf would affect anyone but her. A year ago, San failed at protecting her family and home. She refused to fail again. 

TOULOUSE:

“San,” Lou growled as her hand jerked from his, the cloth bandage he’d been wrapping around it unfurling and hanging like a white flag. 

“San, it’s alright,” Belle’s voice soothed. She moved around Lou to put her hand on San’s shoulder, rubbing gently. Lou could feel the girl trembling and he was sure that Belle could too. They exchanged a brief look, Belle’s eyes watery, Lou’s hard. He didn’t like this, not a bit. 

He hadn’t acknowledged Merida’s statement, but he knew what she wanted to talk about. And, reluctantly, he was thinking the same thing. Lou was fond enough of San. Not fond enough to share his thoughts with her, but fond enough that he didn’t want her mauled to death. It would be his fault, on his conscience—if he was too stubborn to allow her the protection of a pack. 

Besides, Merida might be his leader, but his true pack was his family. He would break any command if it put them in danger, no matter the magic. He managed well enough not engaging with Merida as a wolf unless absolutely necessary. 

It rankled him, but it was what needed to be done. 

Once he finished wrapping San’s hand, he unfolded his long legs and stood. Moving over to the sink, he washed his hands. 

“Belle, take San up to the other guest room. Find her some clothes. Yours or Marie’s will do fine. San, you will stay here tonight. You’ll be safe.” He turned off the faucet and looked over at Merida as he wiped his hands dry. 

“We can speak in the living room,” he told her. 

MERIDA: 

Merida waited as best she could, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she fidgeted. The more she had to wait though, the more everything solidified in her mind so she did not see how inviting San into the pack would be a discussion at all. She was the alpha; wasn’t it her job to act as an alpha? Whether Lou liked it or not-- this was what was best. 

And having a plan gave her comfort in the face of so many unknowns. In that regard, there were still things to discuss. 

Did they find the wolf who attacked San? 

Did they take revenge? 

(Merida wanted to, but if it was connected with Zira, then lashing out might jeopardize the mission with the Knights. That thought had her clench her jaw. She didn’t want to involve the knights with her wolves. Or-- the wolf, her wolf, did not want that. She was the one who had to protect her own, and that was all that should matter.)

Finally, Lou was ready. She jerked her head and then they headed to the living room. 

Merida didn’t bother to wait. “San needs to be in our pack,” she declared firmly. “There’s no reason anymore why she shouldn’t. It’s the best way we can protect each other.”

 TOULOUSE:

Lou followed Merida into the other room, hearing Belle talking softly to San still as she got her up and moved her toward the stairs. 

He kept his hands behind his back as he strolled toward the sliding glass doors, looking out over the dark garden like he would be able to see his enemies lurking there in the bushes. Those hands of his tightened at Merida’s words. 

Of course, he did agree with her, but he hated the idea of being commanded and by Merida of all people. It was, at the very least, incredibly rude. And it was still not so simple as she made it out to be. Unlike her, Lou did not make these decisions lightly. Anyone in their pack would have access to information that was highly sensitive and highly personal. Information about his family that he needed to protect at all costs. He hardly trusted Merida with it and certainly wouldn’t if Belle didn’t trust her too. 

San was still a stranger and a stupid child. She barely even knew what it was to be human. She did not care about Belle and Hades and the children the way he and Merida did. 

“We don’t have any obligation to protect her,” Lou said, his voice cutting as he stared at Merida through the reflection on the window. “You and I have an obligation to protect each other and the Acherons. She does not share those values.” It was contrarian to his own thoughts, he knew. San was just a child and she needed help, but accepting her into his pack was a heavy burden and he certainly didn’t want Merida to think that she could just do whatever she wanted without pushback. 

“Even if she was part of our pack, that would not have stopped the attack tonight from happening.” 

MERIDA: 

Merida bristled again. This was exactly why she’d been so firm-- because she’d expected the pushback. Last time when San had been a topic of conversation, she’d let herself be pushed around. But she wouldn’t anymore. She knew she was right. Every bone in her body told her so, and so did the wolf, who had wanted San from the beginning, who did not believe what Lou believed now-- that this attack couldn’t have been stopped. How could he know that, eh? If they’d been a pack… if they had been a proper pack, one that hunted together, who understood each other, who loved each other, then perhaps San would have never been alone tonight to begin with. 

She wasn’t going to get angry though (even though she wanted to). She was used to men who looked down on her and dismissed her opinions. She would not be the hothead that Lou thought her to be. 

“I disagree,” she said calmly-- though still firm. “I think a lot would be different if she was a pack. We could teach her better. Guide her. And considerin’ the way things are goin-- with the Blackwells-- it’s not safe for any one of us to be a wolf in the woods alone. Besides, maybe you don’t feel an obligation, but I do. And she-- that pup in there-- whether you like it or not, she trusts you, Lou. Weren’t you payin’ attention to how she was lookin’ at you while you were treating her? She wouldn’t betray us-- especially not if she were in our pack.” 

TOULOUSE:

“You think. You think it will be different if she was part of the pack because you want her to be,” Lou accused. “You aren’t thinking about anything but your own loneliness and you’re being selfish because all you have is yourself. I have other people to think about. Belle, Hades, the children. My brother and sister. My mother. Nounou.” 

He listed all of these people, his heart clenching with every name, as if by saying them it was trying to expel his worry into the air. 

“You do not know if she will betray us or not. You, yourself, were a perfectly placed plant to gain Belle’s trust and destroy her family from the inside.” Yes, Lou realized he sounded paranoid but it was also true. 

“I know that she is vulnerable, but so are we. So is my entirely Mundus family, minus Hades. You don’t get to make this decision on your own without considering me and the other people we love and want to protect. You don’t get to just dictate whatever the hell you want and expect me to follow along like some spineless fool. That isn’t being a leader,” he scoffed. 

MERIDA: 

Lou’s words hurt.

Not the rubbish about being a leader-- but the other part. That she didn’t have anyone. It felt like a kick to the stomach. More than one actually, as he went on, as if just cuz he had more people meant he was somehow better than her. 

But she wasn’t going to cry in front of this fool. Even if the tears pricked for a moment. They receded, leaving Merida’s eyes shining, but still just as intense. 

“I’m not. I listened to you last time, you forget that? And I’m talkin’ to you now, aren’t I?” No, Merida didn’t realize how her phrasing could be better-- to her, pullin’ Lou aside was bringing him into the decision. “But things have changed, so I’m askin’ you to change too. It’s the right thing to do. Not just because you think I’m lonely.” Her nose scrunched for a moment, the anger there in her expression now, even as she tried to push it back. “Which-- I’m not. Because I have people too. I have Belle, whether you believe she should have forgiven me or not. And if you don’t think I would lay my life down for her, for her entire family-- for you too, ye thickheided oaf-- then you clearly haven’t spent enough time in my thoughts. I don’t need San. But I want her. And she wants and needs us.” 

TOULOUSE:

Merida’s speech did little to impress or impassion Lou. He did know that she would sacrifice herself for Belle or the other Acherons or even himself or his siblings, but not necessarily because she loved them. In his eyes, she was begging to be a martyr. And martyrs were ridiculous and foolhardy. 

And he knew that he technically agreed with her about San. She needed protection and while he was reluctant to expand this stupid pack any further, it was the best course of action. Especially if there was another pack or lone wolf out there looking to hurt his family. If San was just another body between the evils of the world and the people Lou loved—that was good enough for him. 

Still, he could not give in without pushback. 

“You are not talking to me now, you’re telling me. There was no asking, no getting my opinion. You dragged me in here and started barking orders like a general. I think you, of all people, should understand how uncooperative that makes me.” 

And not just because she’d been inside his head, but because he knew that she was the same way. Though, perhaps he was the only self aware one between them. That wouldn’t shock him. 

Before she could pop off arguing pointlessly again, he held up a hand. 

“I will agree,” he told her. “However, if this backfires somehow, or I sense for a moment that San is not fully on our side and committed to protecting the people we are—she’s gone. Agreed?”

MERIDA: 

What! She hadn’t started barkin’ orders--

And she looked back at what just happened and, shite. She heard herself for the first time. She’d been so caught up in being confident and trying to seem like a leader-- especially in the face of this trauma and the danger on their doorstep-- that maybe she had started barking orders. Merida’s face flushed (though it had been hot from annoyance this whole time). Her jaw grit. 

She was not going to say Lou was right, naturally. He could pry an admission outta her teeth, though since he was finally agreeing, maybe that wouldn’t happen. No reason to keep troddin’ over all this again and again, lest it all get worse. 

But… right. She’d… she’d try to remember this later. 

And so she nodded, slow, swallowing down any of her own protests. “Fine. Agreed. Though-- at least-- promise to give her a chance. She’s practically a pup.” And whether she liked it or not, the worry was plain in her face. She glanced back at the room, affection in her eyes too. “She will need our help. It might not be easy at first. But I believe in her, as long-- as long as she has you. And me,” she added. 

TOULOUSE:

Lou wasn’t sure why Merida believed in San. In his opinion she was a child (not a pup, please.) A stupid and reckless child who knew nothing about being a human, which meant she was constantly putting herself and others in danger. You know, wild children who grow up in the woods, entirely away from society actually cannot learn how to speak? It is psychologically impossible for them. San was much the same. No matter how he tried, there were always wild parts of her and probably always would be. 

These were the parts of her that made Lou uncomfortable—because they reminded him of the wild, untamable parts of himself. 

And yet, he could not turn his back on her. The wolf stood as steadfast as Merida. It never doubted, but it was also patient. Waiting for it’s stupid human to catch up to the inevitable. 

Lou sighed, but he nodded. “Fine. Let us go tell her the good news,” he said dully. 

He led the way up to the third floor, where Hades and Belle were staying. Following the sound of voices, he found San in the room where they had put Opal’s crib. On the bed, Belle was sitting with San. Opal was in Belle’s lap, her head on her mother’s shoulder—clearly having been woken by the commotion and her new roommate. 

When they entered, Belle looked up and smiled at them. Lou did not say anything, just gave a nod of greeting and went to lean against the wall next to Belle, crossing his arms. 

MERIDA: 

Merida came in and she immediately looked to Lou-- but yeah, ‘course the bloke would immediately retreat. Not that he needed to stand next to her while she talked to San, but she would have liked for this to look at least a little more welcomin’. But nevermind the min. She’d never depended on men before and she would not depend on one now. She could only hope that once they all sang together and let San in, then Lou’s frosty exterior would thaw. 

She approached San now with a gentle smile, a strange expression for a girl like Merida who wasn’t used to such things. But when it came to San, her heart was tender. The wolf inside her yearned to sleep next to her, to keep her close. That softness bled through. 

That didn’t mean that she er… knew how to do this all that well. 

“San, Lou and I-- we er...we were talking-- we’ve been discussin’ it for a while really--” Not a lie, this conversation had come up before. “And we think… we want you in our pack. If ye want to join.” 

And Merida offered her hand for San to reach out to, if she wanted. 

SAN:

San’s anger retreated as Lou scolded her. It was just so frustrating that she’d let some wolf get the jump on her like that. It didn’t just endanger her, but everyone she cared for in this God forsaken place. Belle had done exactly as Lou told her to and San wordlessly obeyed. 

They went upstairs and San took the woolen sweater Belle dug out of a bureau. It was a bit big, but comfortable in a way that made her feel safe and cocooned. The creme colored fabric was just as warm, if not more so than her wolf’s coat. San felt bad about disturbing the little one. Opal came to be a classmate, and a packmate to San even if she was human. This family, along with the man Kristoff, proved to her that humans weren’t all bad. After she pulled the fresh clothes over her ragged and tired form she sat next to the mother and her child. 

Is a family all she wanted? San longed to have somewhere to belong, but it felt like she was abandoning her real family by being so comfortable here. So when Merida posed the question to her, San paused before taking her extended hand. Morality was still a new concept, loyalty was not. But was being loyal to another family a betrayal? 

“Would my mother be safe here if I said yes? When I find her. I just don’t want her to find me and think that I’ve forgotten about her…” 

TOULOUSE:

“I don’t think that would be appro—“

“Of course she would be,” Belle cut Lou off with a sharp look before turning back to San and giving her a soft smile. The same one she used on the children. And the same one she used on Lou when he was in pain. It irritated him, being cut off, but it also irritated him to see Belle look at someone else with such affection. 

He scowled but didn’t say anything else. 

It was a moot point anyway. San’s mother was most likely dead. From what he had gathered of the story she’d told, that was the outcome that made the most sense. Besides, she was a proper wolf. Not a werewolf, so she would like in the forest and have no contact with them. Even if she was still alive. 

“This forest is protected,” Belle told San. “By the Great Prince, but also by laws. Wolves are not allowed to be hunted, so she could live here safely. I think it’d be wonderful if you joined.”

“You’re not part of the pack,” Lou told her bluntly, even if the wolf disagreed.  

She looked over her shoulder at him and her expression was torn between hurt and indignation. “I wasn’t saying that,” she snapped defensively. “I was just agreeing that I think it’d be lovely.” 

MERIDA: 

Course Lou continued to make this as hard as possible. 

But Merida did not blink. She barely looked at his sour face. What mattered to her was that San had not pulled away. Her hand was slight and gentle in Merida’s own-- even though she knew this girl was strong, capable of much more than she might even think. That was part of Merida’s mission now. Becoming her alpha, she would not only look after San, but teach her that she was no longer a pup. She didn’t need her mum-- though of course they’d not turn the wolf away if she did arrive in Enchantra. 

She nodded along with Belle then. “Exactly. When yer mum arrives, she’d be safe here. I would treat her as my own.” She had no problems promising as much; Lou probably felt differently, but well, he could suck on his own toe. 

“So… how about it? Will ye sing with us when the moon is full?” Merida said again, gently, hopefully. 

SAN:

San felt an ache in her chest vanish. It had been there a long time. Even before her pack was decimated and her mother ran away. Maybe it had been there all her life. Or maybe it started when her human parents left her in the forest all those years ago. 

The hollowness San had felt all this time, was a want for a human connection. A werewolf pack was different from what she had known. Wolves aren’t people. And San was.

 She looked at the three of them around her with wide eyes. They all looked back expectantly. 

She didn’t hesitate to nod. And then she kept nodding, a smile soon forming. “Yes.” 

“Yes! I will! Merida, thank you!” She wrapped her arms around the redhead, and her new alpha, squeezing her tightly. And then looked excitedly to Lou, who didn’t seem like the hugging type… but San wanted to anyway. Peeling away from Merida, the short girl threw her arms around his form but quickly retracted in case of protest. 

“And you too, thank you,” lastly she turned to Belle, “And you, you may be… human… but you welcomed me into your home and you’re a part of my pack, wolf or not.”

[trip-downtheriverstyx]

Hades snorted. "If the ghost can't remember its name, do you really think it cares about its gender identi--"

He stopped, catching a glare from Belle. He rolled his eyes. But fine. Pronouns. Perhaps the ghost did care about pronouns.

"Do you have pronouns?" he drolled.

It took a moment for the ghost to realize what Hades was asking, but after a few moments, Hades said. "She. Anything else you want to know?"

Might as well get straight to it instead of dillying around with his own questions. Not that Hades had many. This was all a favour (and secretly Hades had wanted to check out the house. He liked it. As lovely as the cottage was, he would like a massive place like this. A castle that suited a king.)

@lou-bonfightme @simba-bonfamille-lyons @labellerose-acheron

The Haunting of Strawberry Hill /./ [Big Fam]